Southerners Are Funny

I don't fancy myself one of those hardy Midwesterners. I lived in Ohio for 5 years and that was enough for me. I don't play euchre on weekends; I'm not completely enthralled with the Ohio State-Michigan rivalry; I don't like NASCAR; I don't think Kid Rock is an actual artist; and I loathe Toby Keith.

But living in the South has taught me one thing: Midwesterners are a hardy bunch.

Example: this "storm" we're supposed to get tonight. People all over Atlanta are in a panic. We "might" have some rain which "might" turn into sleet or an ice storm. I say might because we would be on the very southern, southern, southernmost tip of this front.

But don't tell people in Atlanta that. They're in full panic mode. People are hitting Kroger and Wal-Mart to stock up on batteries, bread, milk, and so on. People were taking work home in case we can't get in to work in the morning.

Me? I don't think we'll get anything at all. The last 3 times we were supposed to get hit we got a great big goose egg. We "might" get rain ... but it'll be fine.

The funny part? Anyone who has lived in the Midwest or in the Northeast is treating this like any other day. Those folks were talking about what they were going to bring in for lunch tomorrow while true Southerners were lacing up winter boots, mittens, scarves, and parkas.

Aaaahh, these Southerners make me feel like a hardy Midwesterner.

Top 5 Tuesday

I'm sure most of you out there have those "dry periods". You know, where you haven't had sex for a bit. Of course, my dry periods are more like epics on scale with The Odyssey. I think I chronicled in my New Year's Resolutions that it's been since July since I have seen a breast (other than Skinemax on cable or when I "accidentally" find porn online). I say that my dry periods are on par with a Greek tragedy are that in order to get laid, I would have to go through like 6 feats of strength and cunning combined with the proper sacrifice to the Gods of Debauchery. Or ... I could be just like my man in this pic and pull 2 slags at once!!!

But in my continued public service, I have decided to compile a list of the Top 5 signs that a guy is trying to get you in the sack. SO ladies, if a guy is pulling these moves, do your good deed for the day and give in from time to time. Hey, if I'm not getting laid, at least a few of you will!!

Top 5 Signs A Guy Is Trying To Get You In The Sack

5. He Starts To Increase Your Booze Intake: It starts off innocent enough, he buys you a beer. Then the next thing you know, you're shotgunning cans of PBR over a pool table with his hand down your pants trying to figure out your religion.

4. He Cleans Up: He tries something different with you. He puts on something like Axe body spray. He might even put on enough of that fancy toilet water to make layers of paint peel off a wall like a banana. BTW, if you want to know what the Devil smells like, go here and sample it next time you're out.

3. Sexy Voice/Heavy Breathing: As if wearing good smelling stuff ain't enough, the male on the prowl will often employ tactics that he thinks are guaranteed to get your juices flowing. I've often employed the "leaning myself close to your neck" with the mistaken belief that my exaggerated breathing will elicit that "drop the panties" response. Plus, the whole "You're so hot baby" talk that we males employ is guaranteed to make you giggle with your girlfriends next time you meet up.

2. The Rubbing: What woman can resist a man rubbing himself all over you? Admit it, you're powerless once that simulated act of intercourse is ongoing. We'll start humping you in the midst of foreplay like a frantic chihuahua going to town on a chew toy. Or when you cuddle with us, you get the 3-inch killer rubbed all over ya' ... see, you're completely in our control when this happens!! Submit to our will ... I command you!!!

1. He's Breathing and Has a Penis: Yeah, this is the sure sign we're trying to get into your pants. Any breathing man is almost always certainly trying to get into your pants. I know this is a very "When Harry Met Sally" revelation, but work with me here people.

So if anyone has any other sure signs, let me know. Remember ladies, give in every once in a while. It's your civic duty.

Reunion Of My Bands

I'm not a fan of bands reuniting. Let's get that straight up front. The problem with reunions is that one of two things happens: 1) the reunion blows and everyone remembers why they should have never gotten back together in the first place; or 2) the reunion goes really well and the band decides to record new material which more often than not ends up sucking ass.

However, I was made aware of a pending reunion by the ultra-sexy gun toting Lindsay. It appears that Rage Against the Machine will be doing a one-off reunion at Coachella.

Now, Rage Against The Machine wouldn't be one of those bands to reunite and put out a shit album. It's not in their blood to put out shitty music. It would be hard, heavy, and political. It is the shot in the arm that free-thinking, pissed off, alienated liberals like me need. We need Zach to start taking open shots at close minded fucking right-wing fucksticks and calling out the Anti-Christ and him minions.

Recently another one of the bands of my debauched youth is reuniting ... well, not so much reuniting as bringing back the voice of the band while letting go of the rhythm. Van Halen has confirmed that they are reuniting with David Lee Roth to bring back the Van Halen that fucking rocked the late 70's and early 80's. This is a welcome respite from the Van Hagar era and that fucking abortion of a rock band with the pussy singer from Extreme.

However, this won't be THE Van Halen that I grew up with. It's complete except for one piece. Michael Anthony, the bassist's bassist, hasn't been invited to the reunion. The driving rhythm of this band has been left out to be replaced by Eddie Van Halen's 15 year old son. So what does this hold for the band that once had signs outside their dressing room reading "No virgins allowed"? Does this mean that when a 45 year old woman gets riled up to "Unchained" that she can't flash her tits because there's a minor on stage?

Let's all hope Diamond Dave rocks it and Eddie's son doesn't blow it.

Beautifully Sad Fairy Tale

Last night, I was supposed to go to one of these ultra-hip places to "be seen" in Atlanta. It's one of those martini bars where you pay like $15 to get in with overpriced and watered down drinks. The sort of bar where if you ask for Grey Goose vodka, the bartender looks at you like you ordered at pork rinds at while dining at the Waldorf. Naturally, you're supposed to order the vodka that is made by blind Russian monks in bathtubs using potatoes grown in imported soil that only like 3 people have ever heard of at $400 a bottle.

But last night was one of those "blah" nights where no one wanted to go out. So I decided to not let the night be a complete waste. I went to catch a movie and I'm glad I did.

I finally saw "Pan's Labyrinth". Let me tell you, this movie is beautiful, scary, and sad all at the same time. This ain't your kid's fairy tales. I won't give away too much because no one wants to read what happens but you will figure out what is going on in the movie after a bit.

But that didn't stop the audience from being hushed the entire movie. I'm serious; during the last 40 minutes of movie, there wasn't a peep from the audience. No errant cell phones. No couples talking. Only dead silence and a few people wiping away silent tears. It's not often that a movie gets the whole crowd to shut up. Hell, that alone was worth the price of admission. But, it is a great movie and I highly, highly recommend it.

One of Those Mornings

This morning, I woke up sore as hell. As part of my punishment for carrying all of the shit food I regularly eat around what would otherwise be a nice flat tummy, my trainer is sadist who loves to see me suffer for my sins. So I slowly, piece by piece, roll my tubby ass out of bed and make my way through my morning routine.

One of the worst part of the workouts that I've been doing are the sore muscles that I've never really worked. For instance, my ass. First of all, I have an ass that would be jealous of a nine year-old girl's posterior. In other words, I need a belt with my boxers. So for whatever reason (possibly because I've been using my ass to compensate for my severely sore quads), whatever little ass muscle I have burns all day. I take an extra 20 minutes to get ready because I just can't move as quickly as I would normally, so I'm running late at this point.

I make the drive to work and I forgot there are like 3 conventions going on at once today. I believe it was some sort of right-wing, Neo-Nazi rally with Colin Powell, Guiliani, and the Trump whipping up the brain dead into a capitalistic fervor. Plus, some sort of dairy convention so all the hayseeds in Georgia were trying to manuever their giant extended cab trucks through downtown Atlanta as if it wasn't crowded enough. And ... there was some sort of evangelical "Jesus is love but he hates the gays" convention as well. SO you can imagine the venom I was spewing as I tried to navigate through this mess.

I get into the ghetto-ass parking lot some 6 blocks from work. At this point, I get to listen to my music which is a brief respite during my foray of being surrounded by the lowest common denominator of intellect. I put in my MP3's earbuds and start walking. I can't figure out why they're so uncomfortable. I adjust .... readjust. Still, one of the earbuds feels like it's scraping the inside of my ear.

Turns out that one of those little silicone sleeves that help the bud fit your ear fell off. The seal is horrible and my ear is hurting. In other words, no music on my way in. So this is a guarantee that my bane of my existence will hit me up for change on my way in. And .... they did. It seems even the homeless respect that unwritten law of you don't bug someone when they have their headphones on!!! Note to self: get new earbuds.

Flesh Eating Lawyers, Crackheads, and Bums!!!

I swear ... sometimes, I really love my job. We get on these weird topics that somehow lead us in all directions that typically leave us laughing our asses off at stupid shit. Let me give you an idea of some of the topics of the past two weeks:

How everyone thought Bobby Brown was the crazy one, but that after some time, it was Whitney who was really the crackhead.

Various stories that homeless have given to get change out of us.

Is Kirsten Dunst hot?

What legitimate reason could anyone give for having church services that last more than hour.

Why is it that watching a guy get it in the balls is hilarious.

Today's topic was a good one though: In the hypothetical, the entire law department is on a trip to South America when our plane crashes in the Andres. Of all our co-workers, who would we eat first?

This was a tough question because how does one set criteria for this? Would you base this on looks? What about some of the bigger people: is there too much fat?

This just goes to show your tax dollars are hard at work!!

The A,B,C's of Me

I have had this post sitting in edit for a while and I can't even remember whose blog I stole it from. Anyways, here goes .....

A- Available or single? - If you're cute, hell yeah.
B- Best Friend? - Got a few.
C- Cake or Pie? - Pie; nothing beats pumpkin or key lime pie. Besides, pie sounds dirtier!
D- Drink of Choice - Coke Zero or Tecate (in the can of course with lime and salt) or Newcastle
E- Essential Item? - My MP3 player
F- Favorite Color? - Either one of several shades of blue or green
G- Gummi Bears or Worms? - Haribo Gummi Bears
H- Hometown? - Dalhart, Texas but New Mexico is always home
I- Indulgence? - Buttery, salty popcorn that costs like $9 at the movies
J- January or February? - January because Valentine's Day sucks
K- Kids and names? - I've been told that kids have names
L- Life is incomplete without? - Family
M- Marriage Date? - Are you kidding? I'd be happy to just find a girl to talk dirty to me at this point.
N- Number of Siblings? - 2 sisters and one brother
O- Oranges or apples? - Fuji apples are the best fruit known to man
P- Phobias/Fears? - I hate, hate high open places; I'd never be able to be climb Everest
Q- Favorite Quote? - "Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, son."
R- Reason to Smile? - Because I'm always thinking dirty thoughts
S- Season? - Fall is the best; still a bit warm in the day and cold at night
T- Tag three people! - 3 people don't even read my drivel
U- Unkown Fact About Me? - I was once on Wheel of Fortune.
V- Vegetable you hate? - Squash; who the fuck likes squash!!
W- Worst habit? - I spend money in various amounts way too often and don't keep track of it
X- X-Rays you've had? - Wouldn't you like to know?
Y- Your favorite food? - Carne asada tacos ... just corn tortillas, onions, cilantro, lime, and grilled steak
Z- Zodiac? - Gemini

You can do this if ya' want!! If not, just make fun of me with my list.

Top 5 Tuesday

Last weeks Top 5 Tuesday was sort of a downer. So this weeks will be a real pick me up ... or should I say "prick" me up. Oh me!!

Top 5 Porno Titles With Mainstream Inspiration

5. "Sperms of Endearment" - A touching movie where one member is slowly fading away. Or is that a movie where one is touching his quickly rising member?

4. "The Legend In Bagger's Pants" - Finally a movie that makes watching golf exciting. We'd love to see the hole-in-one in this one!

3. " Batman In Robin" - This movie finally answers the question of why a grown man would take in some street urchin into his home. Let's see: Bruce Wayne lives alone in a big house and he wears tights. 'Nuff said.

2. "The Bad Nudes Bared" - Just how did the coach got his last name "Buttermaker"?

1. "Sorest Rump" - I won't even go into the analogy of how "life is like a box of chocolates". Actually, any chocolate reference isn't going to sound good at this point given the title of this masturbatory-piece.

Some other finalists include "The Brady Munch", "Caddysnatch", "Diddle Her On The Roof", "Honey, I Shrank Your Clit", and "Men In Back".

So folks get on it and give me some of your five faves!!

I'll Sue That Crazy Guy Pissing In The Street

I know they're a target of some of my most venomous attacks and I'm sure you have gotten tired of my incessant droning about them. But finally someone has gotten more fed up with the homeless than I am.

A New York antiques dealer is suing a group of homeless that sleep and urinate outside his shop. He's not just suing for any ole' amount ... no, no .... he's going for the gusto. A cool mil.

I think I'll take the same approach here. I'll sue for the pain and suffering I must endure as I walk to work through the wafting aroma of piss in the air and ass.

For tomorrow, a new Top 5 Tuesday topic! Stay tuned ... this one is going to be fun!!

Sports Get Me Too Worked Up

I swear, I'm gonna have a heart attack one of these days. You think I'm kidding? Follow me here a bit ....

Today I'm watching the AFC Championship game. Now, let's get this straight. If you were reading me this time last year, I was jumping like crazy when the Steelers won the Superbowl. I have been a Steelers fan since I was old enough to hold a football. I was 10 years old when they won their last Superbowl, so 26 years later it was sooooooo sweet.

However, all of my love for my team often isn't as passionate as my hatred for the teams I truly loathe.

Example, the New York Yankees. Fuck I hate this team. They truly are 'The Evil Empire'. They are the Wal-Mart of Major League Baseball. Every year these fucksticks have the money to buy the best players in baseball and bully around nothing teams like the Royals or the Devil Rays. Few things warm my heart more when a team that has to sell off old office equipment, like the Minnesota Twins, get to the playoffs and go further than NY. SO, when the DBacks beat the Yankees, I was happier than a pig in shit. I was ecstatic that the DBacks won, but I was happier that the Yankees had lost.

Second example, the Lakers (sorry Jen). No one is a bigger whining bitch on the face of the earth than Kobe. I love seeing him struggle now since he truly believed the hype that he was the anointed one that could lead that team by himself. I wasn't a Shaq fan, but guess who got a ring Kobe? It wasn't your bitch ass.

These pale in comparison for the hatred I have for the Cowboys (sorry YNH) and the Patriots. I FUCKING HATE THESE TWO TEAMS. I loved that when Michael Irving landed on his head in the old Veterans Stadium, Eagles fans cheered when he was wheeled off the field on a stretcher with a neck brace! I loved watching Ted Bruschi with that look like he was going to cry today when the Pats blew it.

First of all, Dallas has the audacity to claim they're "America's Team". Right, I forgot that America's Team would have a guy involved with a stripper, coke, and a cop. America's Team would need a guy to get busted transporting hundreds of pounds of weed .... twice!!

Next, the Patriots have get every questionable bullshit call starting with the now infamous "tuck rule" which makes no fucking sense to anyone except the ref that called it. I swear it's as if the NFL is doing everything to give them another title. No other team gets away with taunting or shit talking like the Patriots. I'm sick of them proclaiming that they get no respect from the press and that they're always the underdogs. Nothing turns my stomach more than watching a press conference with Bruschi and that fucking flat head of his. Guess what though? You jackfucks won't have the Lombardi trophy this year ... FUCK YEAH!!

See what I mean? I got worked up just typing this. Like all good Americans, we like to see the successful fall down. I just happen to love it more than most when it comes to these teams.

Help Me On This One

I'm trying people. Really, I am. I value myself as an open-minded, progressive liberal who really tries to see both sides of the story. But I am beginning to wonder about Islam.

It stated with an article that came out today about the new season of 24. It seems that some Islamic groups are upset at being portrayed as terrorists this season. So there will be the usual around the Islamic world: protests and boycotts aimed at stopping Muslims from being portrayed as terrorists. They will be organized, articulate, and convince many of the true ideals of Islam.

Yet, I fail to find this same sort of organized response towards the violence in the Middle East with Muslim killing Muslim, nor will I see this same response towards radical Islamic groups in places like the UK who profess that they will carry on a jihad there.

A political thinker once declared that until mainstream Muslims denounce the violence associated with these fringe Islamic groups, no amount of firepower around the world will stop it. I take this thought seriously. I'm not saying that Christianity doesn't have its sins. We're all too familiar with the Catholic church's lack of response towards the holocaust, the Inquisition, the Salem Witch Trials, and how Christianity was used to justify Jim Crow in the South.

But how do moderate Muslims justify the violence that has occurred in the UK? What about the Madrid subway bombings? What about the sectarian violence in Iraq? When a sacred and ancient mosque was destroyed in sectarian violence, the only real voices outside of those directly affected to be heard were archaeologists! I didn't see or hear about mass protests in Montreal or New York or London denouncing this senseless destruction.

Yet a small cartoon comes out in a locally distributed Dutch newspaper and Muslims everywhere are in the streets protesting and rioting. If Catholics protested anytime an unflattering cartoon appeared about the Pope or the Church, we'd never get to mass on Sundays!

I wonder if it's the whole strong arm tactic with violent groups within Islam. If you speak out against them, then you're not a true follower and no Muslim wants that. It's almost as if a very, very small faction of Islam has hijacked an entire religion.

Perhaps it's almost that American sorta of response. You know that whole "Yeah, we fight amongst ourselves but leave us the fuck alone or you'll be sorry."

Maybe it's the whole renaissance of Islam itself. I like to think that this is what Islam is going through. The world is becoming smaller and those that can't deal with new ideas are going to react violently towards the inevitable death of their closed experience. I truly, truly hope this is what is going on. But if you can shed some light on this to help me understand, please, please, please do so!

Ex's Back In Texas (well ... really mostly in New Mexico)

A friend of mine was recently on a reality show. He didn't do quite well and was "fired" immediately. The funny thing is that once the show was over, he was deluged with calls from the Exes.

Oh yes, that funny little creature known as the Ex that somehow has a nose for those times when you've lost that 50 lbs to look better than ever or you've hit the Powerball. He's been besieged with calls from Exes he hasn't talked to in over 10 years and it's even gotten so bad that the mother of one of his Exes has called him. All in a days work for someone whose image has national appeal.

The funny thing is that I think I'm hitting that time when my high school classmates are beginning to reevaluate their lives. Yep, the 20 year reunion is next fall.

I'm beginning to get emails from girls I went to high school with. Girls that really didn't pay me any attention other than as friends are now emailing me. I've had a couple of ex-girlfriends from back in the day get in touch with me. One ex was one of my first girlfriends ever and she moved after our 8th grade year. Another ex went to my mom's work and asked for my new number!!

I wonder if this is something that everyone at this age goes through. I just found this to be a curious oddity of getting older.

Top 5 Tuesday: A New Tradition

Joel started his Film Vault Fridays which I absolutely loved. He critiqued movies and directed us to certain points in the movie to pay close attention. Since he hasn't blogged in a while, so I'm starting my own recurring theme.

In honor of one of my heroes of the literary /cinematic worlds and oh so oft referenced here, Rob Gordon, I am beginning Top 5 Tuesdays.

So each Tuesday, I'll take a topic and do a Top 5 list a la High Fidelity and run with it. For those of you who still read my drivel, please feel free to post your own Top 5 on your blogs or comment on mine.

The Inaguraul Edition will start off on somewhat of a down note but it will get better each week, I promise:

Top 5 Songs To Be Played At My Funeral

5. "The Cowboy Rides Away" - George Strait : Having grown up out in the hinterlands of civilized society, I still pine for mountain vistas, blue skies, the smell of dust and sage in the air, and those wide open spaces (yes, I do see the connection between this song and the Dixie Chicks song; believe it or not, there are a few ... a very few, country artists I can stomach). Anyways, this is one of those great songs that make me miss Eastern New Mexico and the Texas Panhandle.

4. "Many Rivers To Cross" - Jimmy Cliff : One of the quintessential great reggae tunes of our time. Jimmy seems to penetrate my soul with lyrics like this:

Many rivers to cross

And it's only my will that keeps me alive

I've been licked, washed up for years

And I merely survive because of my pride

Preach on brother Jimmy, preach on. This song hits you where it's supposed to hit ya' and I'm grateful for it. And yes .... I stole this idea from High Fidelity but I do love the song.

3. "Finnegan's Wake" - the Dubliners : My fascination with the Irish culture will continue after my death. I have informed my family and in my will that I want a wake in the style of the Emerald Isle. In other words, I want my friends, family, acquaintances, enemies, one-night stands, etc. together to hit a bar and celebrate my life with the sort of drunken debauchery that someone with a life as dull as mine could merit. It probably will be a Coors Light kinda night but at least this song is hilarious. The first time someone spills booze, they'll fully expect to arise from the dead to admonish the offender!

2. "My Way" - Sid Vicious : Few tunes could sum up a life that burned bright and quickly to end with a huge bang. But Sid's lack of vocal styling make this song sound as if I led this crazy, rebellious life boozing and partying … well, I sorta did in undergrad. Yeah ... that's the ticket. I did do things my way and damnit, it's paid off ... somewhat. So yeah, I did do it my way!

1. "Arizona State Fight Song" : Yeah, it's kinda cheesy, but when Gerald Ford died recently and the Michigan fight song was played at his funeral, it just struck a chord with me. After all, many of you know me as Cincysundevil so it's only fitting. Besides, when I'm buried in my sweet maroon & gold coffin emblazoned with Sparky, this will be the icing on the cake .. or the first handful of dirt on me .. or whatever. You know what I mean.

There are some songs that almost made the list like "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie, "Happy Trails" by Van Halen, or "Danke Schoen" by Wayne Newton. But I've got my 5. Any thoughts? Comments? Are you prepared to meet your maker with your 5 in hand???

Whose Name Goes With Whom??

In California, a guy is attempting to take his fiance's last name once they get married. Mike Buday wants to take his future wife's last name to become Mike Bijon. Apparently it is a long, expensive and burdensome process to take your wife's last name. Of course, it isn't anything but a 5 minute trip to the justice of the peace to take your husband's last name. Granted, if my last name were Buday, I'd want to change my name as well.

When I was with ML what seems like ages ago, we had this discussion. It centered around whether she would take my last name if we got married. She insisted that she wanted to keep her last name (in her case, I honestly wonder if it wasn't more a case of just not wanting anyone to know she was married rather than the convenience of changing licenses, stationary, etc. that professionals that get married face). I never once insisted she take mine.

Then she asked why I wouldn't take her last name. I simply replied that I was proud of my last name and that I was happy with it. She said that now I understood why she didn't want to take mine.

That left me wondering why legally it is so much harder for a man to take his wife's last name. I can't imagine a sound legal basis for this. I know that in the past, a wife was considered a man's property and so on. But in this modern age, one has to wonder why hasn't the law caught to resemble what is now a firmly held belief in American society: that no one is another's property.

Americans Fall For Anything

We live in a nation ruled by those who can scream the loudest and make you the most scared. Don't believe me? Look at these jackfucks to my right; do you really think they're all that smart? Don't you think that they really believe that Cheney-Bush-Nazi message that if you don't vote for the Darkside, the other guys would just allow terrorists in at every port in this nation?

Of course, this is all the fault of Beverly Hills 90210. This is the show that started all of this bullshit with superlatives. Superlatives have ruined America for anyone who can think beyond a Toby Keith commercial. You see, it was this "program" that always ran this promo:

"Brenda must decide what to do after lunch while Dylan combs his hair so as to not look so old. On a very special 90210."

How in the fuck can every episode by a "very special 90210"??? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of special, meaning that it is out of the ordinary? If every episode is very special, then it's commonplace and it's not fucking special!!!

This goes on all the time. With everything from Victoria's Secret to American Karaoke. If you want these slogans to have some meaning try this:

90210: Kelly gets a train run on her at a house party on a pool table while frat boys take their turn with Brenda. On a Very Special 90210.

Now, wouldn't you watch that one? Hell, you'd TiVo it for posterity! That would be a very special 90210; just like that special 90210 I left in the bathroom at Jethro's Deli in Alabama after all you can pork sphincters and chicken innards (why hell, in Alabama there there is fine dining!)

Victoria's Secret: Come to Victoria's Secret at 11:38 AM on Thursday morning for our biggest sale ever.

Is it bigger than the last "biggest sale ever"? To compensate, Vicky's should insist that all sales people look like they should be in Hustler and they have to try on all items for customers. Biggest sale ever? I don't know about that one, but I'll sure have my biggest chub ever.

America Fuckstick: Watch this week for the Most Important American Idol ever!

I forgot, the welfare of the free world depends on whether the Wal-Mart crowd can punch their cell phones with their fat fingers enough times. I've got an idea to make it really important: the bottom two contestants each week get sodomized by Ron Jeremy on Pay-Per-View. They get a dick the size of a freakin' Pringles can up the wazoo.

Maybe I should become a reality show creator. Whadda ya think?

My Newest Love Who Will Reject My Advances

Just who is this cute little minx with that sultry smile? Just how angelic is her voice? Just how sauve and cool is she? This my friends is the new love of my life, a little English chica named Lily Allen.

She's a great new songmistress from the UK. Her sound is a little eclectic, but definitely something I found myself bobbing my head to in the car. She's got a cute voice and mixing reggae/calypso beats with great lyrics does the job quite nicely.

Definitely check out her song "LDN" which is a great little tune with a great horn sample from a Harry Belafonte song (I think). Definitely go out and check out this song (I think Chelle will really like this if she hasn't already heard this).

Yeah, she's only 21, but that's okay. Sure, she'll probably fall in love with some 23 year old guy with washboard abs ... but hey, I've got life experience ... that's got to count for something, right?

And The Gators Weren't Supposed To Be Here????

A few weeks ago at the end of the season for Ohio State and Michigan, Michigan coach Lloyd Carr lobbied and whined that they deserved another shot at the national title considering how close the game was between No. 1 and No. 2.. Nationally everyone questioned whether Florida really deserved the shot at the title.

First Michigan get their asses handed to them by USC. This is poetic justice for me after having to listen to everyone in the rest of the nation piss and moan how USC doesn't have to play any competition all year long. The fact is, my beloved Sun Devils played USC better than Michigan did in the Rose Bowl.

Now, I'm beginning to really wonder whether Ohio State had just been overrated all year long. I'm a big fan of a really good game ... unless of course it's my Sun Devils; then I want them to blow out anyone they play. But this was a good game for the first 3 minutes of the game.

Troy Smith ... Heisman winner? Wow, this guy spent more time on his back than a Republican lobbyist. The Ohio State offense has their asses pinned to the bench more often than Paris Hilton's ankles are pinned behind her ears. The vaunted Ohio State defense was about as solid a foundation as is any movie that is dependent upon Lindsay Lohan's acting skills.

This all begs the question of the playoff system. I really think that Boise State could've handed Michigan their ass just like USC did. I think a playoff would've pitted USC vs. Florida or LSU in the title game. Instead, we'll just get more lopsided games because of the good ole' boy system. Until we get a playoff, we'll never get a true national champ.

I'm The Trix Magoo Of Love

Steve Miller's "The Joker" was the gangster of love, a smooth guy who was suave and a playboy. Now most people typically weave in and out of relationships. They pick up on the signals. They flirt at the right time with the right people. Next thing you know, they're dating someone seriously for months on end. Imagine that your love life is like a movie. Compared to my love life, 99% of the dating population is like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie effortlessly gliding through the flotsam and jetsam.

In the movie of my life, the actor who would play me would either be Mr. Magoo or the Trix rabbit. You see, my love life is a series of bumbling misadventures that leave me in some incredible quagmire flailing like an idiot. Unlike Mr. Magoo or the Trix rabbit, I don't end up with the bowl of cereal or with the girl at the end. So let me illustrate this with a story involving a character that represents your truly: The Trix Magoo, a combination of the blindest man and a sad sack character who can't win no matter what.

My most recent series of misadventures starts with Trix Magoo meeting some great people at an event. One very cute lady emails our hero out of the blue to ask if he going to another event in the near future. Over time, she tells him things like how a guy could get to her, how she hopes that she might meet someone who really likes her kids, etc. All the things that our hero Trix Magoo is all about.

However, true to form, Trix Magoo misreads the intentions of the Vixen. The Vixen explains that she isn't looking for a relationship and that she actually digs another fellow. Just like Mr. Magoo falling off the edge of a building or the Trix rabbit having that bowl of processed sugar snagged from his grasp as he is about to get that first taste, he is cast into the friend zone (cue the wah wah waaaahhhh sound indicating another misstep).

At this point in the movie, you can cue the bloopers reel as the credits pass by showing Trix Magoo misreading what he thinks are flirtations and ending up with egg on his face. I think Trix Magoo could use some classes on reading women because he is truly hopefully.

Silly Trix Magoo, cute girls are for everyone else!!

My College Football Year In Review

This year's college football season is almost over and once again, the only thing certain is that my school didn't live up to expectations.

In the preseason, Arizona State started off in the top 25. Although I never heard the prediction myself, some told me that Lou Holtz declared my beloved Sun Devils would win the BCS.

But hey, this is my team coached by that useless assclown named Dirk Koetter. The only thing certain with a Koetter coached team is that it will not live up to any expectation. This year was no different. He starts the year with the infamous flip-flop that forced a senior QB Sam Keller to leave ASU for Nebraska. We play USC tight, but get blown out by Cal, Oregon, Oregon State, and in our bowl game. God must've loved me this year because the assclown was fired at the end of the year. We hired Dennis Erickson who has won a couple of national titles and coached in the NFL. The good thing about this hire is that he was hired to get us to national prominence. Anything less will be unacceptable to not only us alumni, but to the president and AD.

The bowl season this year was tough for me. Not only did ASU get blown out, but so did my Irish as well. The funny thing is, the one team I didn't expect to win a bowl game did. Cincinnati won their bowl game with a new head coach coaching his first game.

Next season? I'd love to see my Sun Devils finish in the top 20, then the following year, the top 10. But ASU has broken my heart several times. Maybe they'll deliver next season (which when put together are my two least favorite words ever .....)

I'd Better Have Manly Milk With My Latte

In a desperate attempt to further polarize this nation and turn attention away from real issues, a conservative zealot has decided to unleash his venom on an innocent enough medium: food.

This is a popular tactic among the extreme factions of either the right or the left. They'll make an outrageous claim by attributing it's effects to a reviled behavior or to a marginalized segment of a population. According to Jim Rutz, soy is making American kids gay.

Of course, this is the same sort of paranoia that the extreme right wing has used to force its agenda on Americans. It's sad but Americans as a society don't progress enough sometimes. We allow ourselves to be led about by anyone who wraps themselves up in either the flag or the Bible.

It was the same at the turn of the century with the Irish being portrayed as a horde bent on anarchy and destruction. This is the same paranoia that whites in the South and elsewhere used to justify the methods of the KKK from those newly freed black hordes. This is the same sort of jingoism that is pervading the national debate on immigration.

Rutz is one of those people who believe that for this nation there is only one religion that fits: his. This is why I'm so opposed to people of his ilk. If you're willing to use the flag or God to obtain your personal objectives, you're a threat to any free society.

Even Spicoli Has To Grow Up

It's funny how much you change as you get older. As we get older, we desperately try to hang onto any semblance of cool. I've seen 40 year old men at the gym trying to bench press twice their own body weight (which only results in pulled muscles and no desire to come back after the soreness has worn off). I've seen 45 year old dudes complaining about the noise levels at concerts nearly reduced to tears at the realization that he really has no business down in the pit. And we've all seen the 50 year old guy cruising around in a new sports car, sunglasses, 25 year old Hooter's girlfriend, and a balding dome bright enough to harness solar energy for small 3rd world countries.

However, it's not just men who suffer through this. At Target, we've all seen suburban moms driving demon-spawn vehicles (fucking mini-vans) who buy a Red Hot Chili Peppers CD for that one slow song only to realize that these are the guys who wore socks over their schlongs. We've seen 45 year old women still trying to wear hip huggers sporting enough ice on their fingers to fund the state of Rhode Island. And yes, we've seen 50 year old women at the club with her 25 year old daughter, both trying to pick up the same 30 year old guy.

I finally fell victim (albeit ever so slightly) to my aging phenom. In the midst of my red eye infection, I needed to pick up my prescription at Target. Being my first time at this particular pharmacy, I have to fill in the questionaire prompted by a young pharmacy tech who was reminiscent of Cedric the Entertainer with the only real difference being that she was actually entertaining and funny.

As we go through the quick form, we come to a question about booze and if I used it regularly. I found myself stumbling to explain that I would have a couple of beers a couple of times a month, but no more than that. I'm a social drinker you know. I mean, I get a little tipsy now and then, but nothing crazy. This went on for a good minute or two as I tried to justify the damage I do to my liver on a regular basis.

As she left to get my prescription, it hit me how much I've changed in 10 years. At age 26, I might have said something like "Hell yeah, I drink. Shit, I'm drunk now! Tonight the Monastery has $1.50 Coronas. You and your friends should go meet us out there."

Now, the one-time Spicoli wannabe from a small town in New Mexico is reduced to justifying the 3 or 4 beers he has during a monthly outing. Getting older sucks ass.

Resolutions and I'm Not Dying Just Yet

Today I went to work with my crimson orb lighting my way as if Rudolph were lighting the way for Santa's sleigh. A few people are left with the hideous image of my red eye burned onto their retinas and I'm pretty sure it will ruin their dinner tonight as well.

Being new to the ATL, I have yet to find a doctor or an optometrist that I trust. This mornings first order of business was to get an appointment to see an eye doctor. At first, the optometrist wasn't going to be able to see me until Monday. I told the male receptionist about my eye. He puts me on hold and the next thing I know, he's got me coming in for a quick appointment in the afternoon.

The optometrist was a pretty cool, low key kinda guy who reminded me of an urban Dr. Katz. He admitted his initial thought was that a simple blood vessel popped in the eye was nothing to worry about. But I started to get worried as his quick examination started to involve a couple of different machines and then some sort of yellow eyedrops that smarted a bit. This quick examination turned into a full blown half-hour extravaganza of lights, bells, and whistles.

Turns out that I didn't pop a blood vessel, rather, I had some sort of infection in the endothelium which is part of the outer portions of the eye. Long story short, it was an actual infection of the eye and I certainly needed to go into the optometrist. The optometrist said that he was sure it was only a busted vessel from what I said on the phone, but he was glad we caught this thing since it is a bit more serious than we both thought until after the examination. I was given a prescription for some steroid eye drops and with that, here I am.

Now onto more relevant issues: My resolutions for the New Year!!

1. Keep up my blog: Sounds simple enough but one lazy night always leads to 2 or 3. Next thing you know, I haven't posted in weeks. This is sort of like my gym schedule lately.

2. Keep in touch with everyone: I'm notoriously horrible at this one; just ask JHD, S, and any of my other friends who keep me in their good graces through patience and charity.

3. Work out consistently: I hate this sorta thing right now after the holidays because everyone gets back into town, so you're going to dinner with someone one night or there is a college bowl game every night of the week. It's over next week, so time to get serious.

4. Allow myself to fail: This is the big one. Fear of failure/rejection keeps me from doing so much more with my life. I think we all need to give ourselves permission to fail. To sorta paraphrase Wayne Gretzky: you can't score if you don't shoot the puck.

So that is what is new with the Devil. Now, post your resolutions por favor!

Red Eyes and Resolutions

You know ... I had a whole great post idea of what I was going to post on Monday night. I had a few resolutions, a few bitches or complaints, and a few of my oh so hilarious observations.

As with all things at the holidays, I got sidetracked with a few other "important" projects, such as chatting late into the night with people who didn't have to work on Tuesday. So this morning, I expected to arise with eager anticipation for a new year.

Only that didn't happen. Instead, I woke up with a headache that for whatever reason I couldn't decipher in the pre-dawn darkness. I hemmed and hawed but couldn't shake the headache. So I called in sick to work. A few ibuprofen and a few extra hours of sleep, the headache was mostly gone but not completely.

Around 6 PM tonight, I was washing my face and just happened to notice that my eye looked like a roadmap outlining my past debauchery. I have no idea what happened other than I possibly popped a blood vessel in my eye. The only question is now how did I do that if that is what I indeed did.

Did I pull a Stewie and fart too hard? Was it this pic that blinded me? Who knows what caused it but I'm going to try to hit my optometrist to see what he says. I'll keep you updated and give you my resolutions.