Monday, May 21, 2007
For a while, the Civy Times has been dead, but I hope that my tale of the greatest week of all time will inspire someone else to post here and resurrect what was once a place full of witty writings.
My awesome week started Thursday night at work. The associate I have working under me is a total fuck up. He is absolutely insane and he walks around the store all night singing "c is for cookie." He is honestly the dumbest person I have ever met and he is also crazy (if I was a chick, I would be afraid to work with him. I would also bleed from my twat monthly, which would also suck). But like the good guy that he is, he decided to leave his wife and 2 year old daughter and move to Miami. Sucks for them, but at least I didn't have to work with him anymore. they replaced him with a girl who actually works hard and doesn't annoy the shit out of me. The week was getting off to a great start.
This wasn't the only thing to happen Thursday night though.
I have this douchebag customer who comes in every few nights. He is a limo driver and several years back, someone made the bad decision of letting him wash glasses in our back room. The guy is a total asshole and I cringe every time he comes in the store, but this week, things were different. He walks up to the counter and asks me: "Do you drink beer?"
I respond (in a Millhouse-esque voice): "Do I?"
Phred: Yeh I do
Limo Dude: I only drink liquor and I have like 15 beers in the limo that I'm about to throw out. Would you like them?
Phred: Um yeh, that would be great. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.
Limo Dude: Well, they are Bud Lights. Is that ok with you?
Phred: That's perfect!
There turned out to be 19 cold, crisp, refreshing Bud Lights!
19 Beers and a new associate? Can life get any better? Actually, these were somehow the two worst things to happen to me this week!
I went into work on Freday night expecting to quit because this jackass wouldn't promote me. Long story short, I demanded a promotion and told my boss that I deserved it. I got him to not only promote me, but transfer me out of his area so that I would have to deal with his shit anymore. So instead of driving 30 miles to work, the trip will be about 10 miles. And my hours will be much better. No more nights, and I'll be off every Saturday night!
Sunday, I was feeling good and went to the QT down the street to buy some juice. While I was there, I decided to buy one of those $20 scratch tickets. Well, I scratched that bitch off and won $1,000!!!
Plus, the stock market has been on fucking fire for me since Thursday.
And how fucking awesome was the Sopranos last night?
Best of all though: I watched Houseguest on Thursday. Which is what I think brought on this deluge of great luck.
This coming Saturday, we are having a party, and my dad sent me 18 bottles of liquor. This party will be off the chains, and Homer is flying in from Denver to attend. We are planning on cooking the little bastard and eating him. Yesterday, he told me that he expects the part to be so awesome that he won't care if we eat him at the end of the night because it will be worth it. I was always just kidding about killing and eating Homer, but since we now have his approval, I say that we fucking do it.
This week has been superb and will only get better. It has even been slightly better than the week that Sabina gave me pink eye.
Monday, September 04, 2006
I know that some of you heard me say this on Saturday, but I wanted to put it on the internet so that the whole world will know.
This is my ultimate fantasy. I have thought about this every night for a year now, and I hope that one day my fantasy will become a reality.
I am sitting on the couch one afternoon, all by myself watching Sportscenter when my door swings open. Sabina Gupta walks in to my apartment and smiles, not saying a word. I look up at her and I notice that there is something different about her… not her hair, not what she’s wearing… just something… different. I can’t quite figure it out until I look her in the eyes. Her eyes are both unusually pink and are surrounded with a yellowish crust. Oh my God, Sabina has pink eye!
Now I started to get excited because I know that Sabina will be giving me pink eye again, unless she is hear to tease me by giving me “blue eyes!” I’ve had Sabina give me pink eve before, and ever since my recovery, I’ve wished for some kind of Sabina induced relapse!
She grabs the remote and turns off the TV and then winks at me with her left eye. As she does this, the smallest bit of eye crust falls off and drops slowly to the ground. Sabina then licks two fingers on her right hand. She takes these fingers and begins running them gently and circularly around her right eye, making sure to transfer the conjunctivitis to her fingers. Then she does some kind of erotic finger dance that is hard to describe using words, moving her fingers back and forth seductively in front of my face, getting closer and closer. Oh my. I am so excited now… it’s really happening!
As she touches her infected hand to my right eye, I let out a slight moan of joy. She starts rubbing my eye, not too rough, but not too gentle.
“Yeah Sabina, that’s how I like it.”
“How do you like it Fred?”
“Make my eye crusty and nasty baby!”
She continues working my right eye until there is no way that I am not infected, and then when she is finished, she does the same thing to my left eye. After she is finished, I fall asleep, content and spent.
The next morning, Sabina gently nudges me to wake me up. As I try to open my eyes, I realize that I can’t because they are crusted shut! I have pink eye! My fantasy has come true, I can now die happy. But wait, Sabina wipes the crust off of my eyes, and holds one of them open. I look up at her, smiling as she squeezes an eye drop into my eye.
“Oh yeah, baby, no one can make my eyes burn like you,” I say.
I think to myself: its gonna be a great week!
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Following, is a list of some of the players, and though you know many of their resumes, I will provide them anyway.
Carmello Anthony: NCAA Champion. Third overall pick in the NBA draft. Current member of the Denver Nuggets
Raymond Felton: NCAA Champion. 5th overall pick in the NBA draft. Current member of the Charlotte Bobcats
Rashad McCants: NCAA Champion. Top 15 pick in the NBA draft. Current member of the Minnesota Timberwolves
PJ Tucker: Big twelve player of the year. Big 12 regular season champion. Current member of the Texas Longhorns, who as of this post are playing in the sweet sixteen.
Chris Paul: Former starting point gaurd at Wake Forest. 3rd overall pick in the NBA draft. Leading candidate for NBA rookie of the year.
Justin Gray: 4 Year player with Wake Forest Demon Deacons.
Trent Strickland: Current player with the Wake Forest Demon Deacons.
Eric Williams: Dominant 4 year big man with the Wake Forest Demon Deacons.
Cameron Bennerman: NC State Wolfpacks best player this year
Others members have played smaller roles at Miami, Florida, Duke amongst others.
Like I said HOLY SHIT!
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
I was sitting around my apartment early last night--West Virginia still couldn't figure out Syracuse's extended 2-3--and I was bored. You're familiar with this feeling, I imagine, living in Greensboro brokering mortgages and crushing Sudokus and watching an obscene amount of ESPN's college basketball coverage.
So I pick up a pizza, a six pack, and the remote control, and prepare to melt my ass into the cushions of my couch. The only problem was this: there was nothing on TV. People say that, there's nothing on, all the time even when there's an SNL rerun on E! or a decent B movie they've seen a thousand times on HBO, but last night there really was nothing on. I just sat there for minutes, eating pizza and staring at some commercial, hoping that God would see my plight and put something watch-able on the five hundies--I wasn't even asking for Casino or Deerhunter, hell, I would have been satisfied with Con Air. He didn't. Ben, I'll be honest, as I exhaled and sank back into my couch with crusty tomato sauce clipped to my chin, I thought of you.
There I was sitting around doing nothing, like you're probably doing right now (I should state, though, that later on, maybe an hour or so after, I ended up going downtown to drink while you were asleep). And do you want to know what my boredom brought me to do?
I watched my first episode of House. You might remember my recent article about the show House, MD (which can be seen on this very blog a few posts down). And let me tell you, even though, at the time of my initial review,I had never seen the show, I was dead on. There is however, one important thing I missed; something that makes much more sense when you stretch it out thin and look at it against the light. In the previous House article, I ridicule Dr. House and his unorthodox ways, and now think I know why.
Dr. House (1) always has the perfect amount of facial hair to make him look grizzled, but not to have a beard. I would like to mediate my facial hair in this manner, but this Greekness I've been handed won't sanction it. (2) Dr. House never wears the conventional doctor's scrubs, rather, opting for a colorful t-shirt wrapped inside of sports coat. Certainly, as I pass the period of my life where accumulating cool t-shirts is a priority, I dream of sitting at a conference table in a t-shirt surrounded by heads and suits. I bet you wish you could wear your go-to Vail shirt to work, don't you? Most importantly (3) within Dr. House's human exterior lies a volcano of sarcasm constantly on the verge of eruption. He's got something smart to say to his boss who doesn't approve of him, the other doctors who question him, even the guy who's daughter is in a coma (a House induced coma, I might add). Shoot, this is guy is sarcastic to the measly assistant who is getting House a cup of water! It's a nonstop sarcasm parade! I want to be that sarcastic in my natural, daily speak, but I often come up with stupid lines that fall flat, or I mess up the delivery by giving away the punchline too early, or I try and get it out too fast and stumble over the words, becoming, in essence, unintelligible.
Ben, at this point you may not understand why I'm writing this letter to you. After I watched House, I went upstairs to change, brush my teeth, and write a quick article about how I watched finally caught an episode of House, and now envy Dr. House. And I did, and proceeded to go downtown and drink cold cans of p-binski, among other beverages while I played Ms. Pacman.
Because I watched House, and decided to write about it, I put my other article to the side for a minute. That other article was tenatively titled BCS Redux. Yes, a sequel to my infamous Burrito Championship Series. I only consider myself slightly self-absorbed, but BCS Redux would certainly have been the greatest article in human history.
Forget the fact that I coined the term Burrito Championship Series (BCS), that I came up with scientifically designed formula which calculates it's standing--including the world renowned Aluminum Foil Test, where I discovered that the size of aluminum foil used is an industry standard thus creating a constant in the scientific method. Forget that I wrote the first article on the BCS, bearing the brunt of the attacks of those who disagreed with me, people would approach me on the street and say things like Moe's rules you jackass or You must have been drunk when you wrote that Qdoba is better than Barberitos. Forget that I can't even get a burrito in this town without thinking about taking a picture of it or calling Fred to tell him how huge it is, that burrito eating is more than consumption to me, it's a ritual, a rite-of-passage, a monument to success--whatever.
I just wanted to write you this open letter to tell you that I understand. You, stuck pretending to be jungle gym in North Carolina where there is more Pepsi, less Dawgs, and that weird kind of barbeque--you know, the kind that has an almost clear sauce and has a distinctly different taste (I'm sure it has a name, something like Carolina Style Barbeque)--needing to write about a familiar place in order to relieve each and every burrito bite.
I'm sorry, no matter how unlike Athens a city like Greensboro is, you can't have the Burrito Championship Series. Sorry, it's mine. Earlier in this letter I wrote that I was jealous of Dr. House. I get jealous all the time: at guys talking to hot chicks in bars, at people who make more money than me, at anyone who has one of those new video iPods. Well I'm jealous significantly less than I'm selfish. Mine, mine, mine. I'm not jealous that you decided to write a BCS article, I'm just self-centered, unwilling to share any of my BCS magnificence.
So if you're going to call me selfish as I file a CEASE AND DECIST ORDER to you're weaker, flimsier, BCS article, at least do it to my face so I can smile, and continue to bask in my own egotistical glory.
1. The Queso sauce is delicious, however last time I went there with Ben, they did pour way way too much on his urrito, making it soupy. This has never happened to me.
2. Barberitos is certainly not generous. Last week, I went there and the dude scooped me an already small scoop of chicken, then gave me only about 2/3 of that small scoop. I thn watched him pour MY excess chicken back into the tub.
3. I think we can all agree that the employees at Barberitos on the Eastside are dicks. This point has been made by many, and I don't think that too many people will disagree. Almost everyone there seems like they hate being at work and that they are pissed off to see you. Maybe there is better service at the 5 points one, but not at the one closest to Civy, which is the one that most of us visit.
Criteria include: Price, Aluminum Foil Test, Tasty-Nugishness, Flavor, The Chicken/Steak Question
Cass's definitons of the terms still apply, and the flavor addition is pretty self explanatory
The Chicken/Steak Question: How much meat do they provide when asked for a mixture of steak and chicken. Do they give you two half scoops, or do they just say fuck it and put a full scoop of steak and chicken in the burrito for the same price.
The scores will be tallied slightly differently. The four competitors will be graded individually in each category. The best in each category will receive 1 point while the worst of each category will receive 4 points
The competitors remain the same, but I think you will find the results to be shocking.
Qdoba'a Chicken Ranchero Burrito:
Aluminum Foil Test: Passes consistently. These guys make some huge burritos. It should be
noted that much of this bulk comes from the ample beans and rice they supply, which slightly detracts from its mammoth size.
Tasty Nugishness: The free drink with student ID is definitely a tasty nug. Their Queso sauce is delicious, though I disagree with Fred's assertion that it should be added to the burrito. I have found that the addition of the queso sauce causes the Burrito to become more or less a chicken or steak soup surrounded by a tortilla rather than a bowl. At 2 dollars and change the queso sauce is a little pricy on the side, but its mere availability combined with its deliciousness merits the award one quarter of a tasty nug point. They give you free chips though not the industry's best, = .75 tasty nug points.
Flavor: This is the category where I belive the Qdoba falls a little short compared to others. The use of white rice detracts from the flavor, and the fact that the burrito is top heavy with rice and beans drowns out other flavors.
The chicken/steak question: I have found that the employees of Qdoba will grant the two full scoops of each around 50-65% of the time. I guess it just depends on who you get.
Conclusion: Cass has asserted that passing the aluminum foil test will gaurantee that your burrito will be delicious. I maintain that passing the aluminum foil test will gaurantee that your burritio will be huge. If you are hungry as balls, this is the burrito for you. These guys pass the aluminum foil test nealry 100% of the time.
Taco Bell's Grilled Stuft Burrito:
Price: Depending on beef, chicken or steak, 1.99-2.79
Aluminum Foil Test: Again, no aluminum foil. But these are decent sized burritos, so the ration of price to size will be taken into consideration, as to not eliminate this burrito from contention.
Tasty Nugishness: The drive through = .75 tasty nug points. Most will agree that T-Bell sauce is the tits = .5 tasty nug points. Late night availability = .5 points.
Flavor: With a little fire sauce, this burrito has a surprisingly solid flavor, especially for a fast food restaurant.
The Chicken/Steak Question: Not applicable because I even if I asked for both I would not really be able to see the distribution of steak and chicken.
Conclusion: This is a burrito for those on the go. Or for those that have to resort to finding change under the couch cushions.
Aluminum Foil Test: Passes extremely rarely
Tasty Nugishness: Best chips in the industry = 1 point, several convenient locations = .75 points
Flavor: Flavored rice, and the best of the chicken/steak allows this burrito to provide a party in your mouth. They also give a lot of cheese, which is a plus in my book.
The Chicken/Steak Question: The employees of Barberitos will grant you two full scoops nearly 90% of the time. Lots a meat.
Moes' Joey Bag of Donuts:
Aluminum Foil Test: Passes, but inconsistently.
Tasty Nugishness: Non industry best free chips = .75 tasty nug points, subtract .25 tasty nug points for the stupid colors. = .5 tasty nug points. Only 8 stamps for free burrito = 1 point. Subtract .25 points because the last time I was there, those assholes threw my 75 cents in change into the tip jar without even asking me.
Flavor: This burrito is average in flavor.
The Chicken/Steak Question: The employees of Moe's will grant you the two full scoops around 75% of the time
Conclusion: Moe's delivers an average burrito for an average burrito eater.
Aluminum Foil Test: 1
Tasty Nugishness: = 2.00 1
The Chicken/Steak Question: 3
Aluminum Foil Test: 3
Tasty Nugishness: = 1.75 2
The Chicken/Steak Question: 3
Aluminum Foil Test: 3
Tasty Nugishness: = 1.75 2
The Chicken/Steak Question: 1
Aluminum Foil Test: 2
Tasty Nugishness: = 1.25 4
The Chicken/Steak Question: 2
Taco Bell 12
Note: If you are one who values size over flavor, the top two spots might be reversed.
Monday, February 20, 2006
True about the job thing... I don't think Homer I don't think that is a part of Homer's 5 year plan. While you are spending your time working and you have expressed your desire to someday move back, Homer spends the vast majority of his time getting high and eating, while saying that he will stay in Colorado forever.
Let me say for all to read: I am not now, nor have I ever been a Homer-sympathizer!
Oh, and I meant to end my last article with this:
Alpha Dwarf of Athens now and forever
It is incredibly soft of Homer to desert his fellow Georgians for so long. He has abandoned his friends, drinking partners, and apparently his ability to defend himself. I understand the need to go "home" and reconnect with the family and old friends, but Homer should have considered the fact that in a few short months he will be leaving Georgia permanetly to move back to Colorado. That said, I think Homer is being a "Softie McSofterson" by returning to Colorado for so long prior to his permanent departure. This means that after his long trip he will probably appear in Georgia for only a few weeks before leaving us forever.
QUOTE FROM BEN: "He claims that Colorado is sweet. Yet I must assert that the fact that no other member of the collective Civy resides in Colorado makes it inherently unsweet." Well Ben, you should know that I am a lifetime member of the Civy and I did reside in Colorado, and I would take offense to what you had written if I did not find Colorado to be unsweet myself. However, one thing that Ben did not consider when typing this is that if Civy is soft (it is), and all of the people that currently live there are soft (they are), then I do not see how fleeing a soft zone can be inherently unsweet.
Despite all of this, Homer, you are soft. To paraphrase Ben: What could you possibly be doing in Denver that you can't do here?
One final thing to cosider is the source of the last post. If I remember correctly, Ben Allen has moved to North Carolina, leaving us all behind. I must also point out that no member of Civy resides in North Carolina, and that at least Homer does drink and gamble in Colorado, while Ben has become nothing more than a "Jungle Gym."
Ben Allen calling Homer soft is like the Snuggles Bear calling the Charmin Ultra with Aloe Grandma's Quilt!
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
So keep that in mind.
I've never watched the Fox hit drama HOUSE, MD. Not once. However, being a regular viewer of Fox's Sunday NFL coverage, I am subjected to an onslaught of overzealous network self promotion; promotion that uses phrases like you won't wanna miss this week's all new or the most riveting episode of the season or with an ending you won't forget all while giving away an entire series' worth of plot lines. Which, of course, makes me miss or forget them all.
This phenomenon is not limited to crappy network series'. Anyone who has skipped school or work to watch fourteen straight hours of basketball during March Madness has endured the barrage of the Masters: a tradition unlike any other commercials. These networks, they never want viewers to be happy with they're doing or what they're watching. They want us always thinking there is something much, much better coming soon.
As I stated above, I've never seen HOUSE, MD. But from all of the ads I've seen, I feel I have an excellent grasp on the show. I know that:
1. Dr. House walks with a limp, and often times, a cane.
2. His colleagues and supervisors seldom approve of Dr. House's unconventional methods.
3. Amid all of his unorthodox medical procedures, Dr. House rarely finds time to shave.
4. The stresses of work often cause Dr. House to slip into an English accent.
And the plot, too. Please notice how in the previous sentence the word "plot" is singular. Though there are many episodes in two seasons of the show, there is but one plot. A person is ill/injured. That person seeks medical treatment, only to have it fail. Dr. House steps in, uses some method that his colleagues don't approve of, and, of course, saves the patient.
The night is late, and moist. Around a large table in a poorly decorated conference room sit a team of writers, working on the next episode of the hit show HOUSE, MD. They are amid serious discussion.
WRITER #1: Well team, we've been at it for hours, but somehow we can't think of anything for next week's HOUSE, MD. It's about time to call it a night.
WRITER #2: Wait...I've got it! A patient comes into the hospital with some kind of rare disease that no one on earth can cure!
WRITER #3: Like cancer?
WRITER #2: No, some kind of rare heart disorder. The patient will come in, and first be seen by the Token Hispanic Doctor, who will be unable to properly diagnos or treat the patient. And then...
WRITER #4: [interrupting] And then Dr. House limps in and saves the day without using common protocol!
WRITER #2: That's exactly what I was thinking!
WRITER #3: It's genius!
WRITER #5: I dunno guys. Maybe this week we could have the Token Woman Doctor or the Token Black Doctor save the patient through practical methods used in hospitals every day.
[a long, extended silence]
WRITER #5: I'm fired, aren't I?
WRITER #1: Oh yeah.
But again, this is not an isolated incident. The next show that comes to mind is the CBS crime drama NUMBERS, where a mathematician is called on to help solve crimes. The commerical first shows a series of crimes. Followed by a law enforcement agent saying either this doesn't make any sense or everything is....random! Followed by the appearance of our mathematician hero. Followed by him doing a bunch of calculations on a blackboard. Followed by the voice-over guy telling us what day and time to watch. I've never watched NUMBERS, but I've got a good idea of how it ends.
As for HOUSE, I've come up with a few suggestions based on my familiarity with the show--which is miniscule--that would increase the popularity of the show, or at least make waiting for the football game to return from commercial more bearable:
1. A developing habit of Dr. House to refer to all of the nurses as "sweet tits."
2. Dr. House begins deferring to his conservative supervisor in the late hours, after the crack wears off.
3. Just once, Dr. House's unorthodox methods end up killing anywhere from two to five patients (and the Token Black Doctor, if he isn't dead already).
4. A season ending thriller: Dr. House may or may not have a first name, and if he does, there's a good chance that his first name is actually "Doctor."
Someone told me, as I was writing this, that HOUSE, MD "isn't that horrible," and that I "shouldn't write about a show you know nothing about."
But I do know something about it. A few things, actually. And I'm comfortable enough with myself to make fun of this show until I'm forced to sit down and watch it.
And on that day, probably because there was nothing else on, I'll give HOUSE, MD the due that it truly deserves--whether it be bad or good. For now, I'm going downstairs to watch TV--and to have commercials for crappy TV shows that won't make it to next fall flung at me every seven to nine minutes.
Truly, a tradition unlike any other.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
the time during which we must hustle or die, gentlemen. and i hope you'll fight with me on this day, and every day henceforth, to preserve the kingdom, the power, and the glory of the civitan club forever and ever.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
In a way each of us at Civy are like the taps that delivered the sweet nectar to 10 oz. plastic cups. We strived for was a good time for all, but as time went on, like our taps, some of us got lost and others were worn down. Sure, we tried to tape it back together, but it was never the same. Our once party driven souls had paid their toll.
But as the sun begins to set on another Civitan generation it becomes apparent that in a year from now we will not be living within five miles of dozens of friends, and our houses will not be equipped to handle the abuse that Civy Club has so graciously.
There must be another great party. Not for me. Not for my roomates or friends. Not even for all the hot freshman chicks that never got a chance to see what Civy was all about.
But for a house that has given so much, while asking for nothing in return.
I cannot do this alone, and I do not know what day it should occur. But I do know it will require the hard work and planning of those outside of Civy. Like a broken tap we Civitonians will continue to try to serve, but in order to give Civy the departure she deserves there needs to be a group effort.
Please be active and vigilent in this cause.
Friday, December 16, 2005
So we sipped the Kolsch and the I.P.A., and discussed the topic. Who we ended up deciding on didn't matter then, and it doesn't matter now. Because five minutes after we stapled the Scarf Discussion shut, Cerny walked in with a long and slender piece of cloth constricting his neck.
Scarves are not what this article is about. During our pre-Cerny discussion of potential scarf bearers, a certain trend emerged:
All of the people we contemplated were from Civy.
The importance of this revelation lies in its existance as a microcosm to the sad and awful truth. It represents the gradual deterioration of what once was full of energy, kegs, and (at least) flip cup. The sad and awful truth is this:
Civy is soft.
How did this happen? How did parties that lasted until five or six in the morning; parties culminating with a final handful inventing drinking games on the go in order to finish the keg; parties that would be packed with people we barely knew cheering on Maddog as he would breakdance in a puddle of water; parties that my brother would call and ask about to see if he could bring his friends to (they had heard, though some sort of fruit-laden vine, that Civy was the place to be); how did these parties become ten or twelve of us sitting around betting on reruns of GUTS while waiting to go downtown?
There was a time when people used to go to Civy instead of going downtown. When regardless of what time of the day it was, there was someone drunk--or at least drinking--at Civy. There was a time when gravity bongs were made on the whim, and pinata fiestas were a regular occurance. There was a time when kegs flowed like wine.
But that time, the Golden Era, as I call it has made way for another time, with different morals, different ideals:
The McSanderson Era.
(p.s. Chuck Norris is lame)
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Much like the last post, this is also a work in progress. This is a compilation of the nicknames of our friends. Based on this post and the last one, you should be able to understand exactly who and what we are talking about at all times. I know I have left out quite a few people. This is either because you dont really have any nicknames, or just because I got tired after coming up with all of these. If you arent on here, let me know and I will add you.
******NEW: Names for Civy Club itself and Universal Nicknames for all Current Residents
Bensama Ben-Allen, Grandpa, Ballen, B. Allen (like B. Rabbit of 8 mile), The Plagerist
Feivel, Diesel, The Drill, Witness
Army, Amistad, Armistice, Ben-er, Benweiser
Ferd, IV, Sam Camino (alias), the Frederal Express, Fake Fred, PH, Derf, North Pole Brain Freeze, Fred Bear, Nut Boy, Clint Eastwood
Bubba, Bubbubbubbubba, Bad Beat Bubba, Bubbalicious, Berrier (pronounced the French Canadian way, like Perrier), Bubs
Rodg, Podactor, The Nodge, Noger, Massey
Easy Street, Camp-easy, Easy, Hurricane, Progresso, 51
T-Rex, Iceman, Trent Vick, Bizarro Ping Pong Table, Soup
Carse, Steven Andrew:
Carl, SAC, Steve-O, Bufa, Crazy Carl
Cass, Casmonstah, Cassanova, Dirty Olive, Bob Sacamano (alias), C-Cass, Greeky McGreekerson, Sir Edmund Hillary, Diamonds, Pickle Boy, Dough Boy, John Malkovich
The Civy, Softie Club, Softville, Athens' Very Own TCBY
Club, Civy (Residents):
These names are universal names that you can use to refer to anyone at Civy. When you see a _______, that means that you can insert any Civy member's first name in that slot, ie: ______ Softawitz can be Tyler Softawitz.
Charmin, Stay Puff Marshmellow Man, Grandma's Quilt, Softserve, Softie McSofterson, Snuggles, Cotton, ______ Softawitz, _______ McSoftenheimer, _________, Puffs Ultra, Beanbag
Homer, Heemer, Orf, The Dwarf, Don Vito, Remoh, Mombatu, Homer Paulson, The Little Guy, Dwarfism, H-Bomb, H-Bizzle, Bizzle, H-Bizzle Tele-vizzle, H, Domer, Flomer
Nick’s Burgas, Nicholas, Nicholai, Burgosity, Anger Management Nick, Recreationial Nick, Fucking Nick, Effin Nick, Gnick, Nick Van Winkle
Hop, Herpkins, Herpsperps, Hopdog
Poonhound, Cock Johnson, Anal Fister, CJ
T, Fragile Leprechaun, Pretzel Stuffer, Scrappy T, Sweet T, T-Bag, Yler, Tyler (pronounced Twy-ler), Bagel Slicer, T-Money, The Flower, Taylor, Boo-yler, The Laundry, The HBO Kid
Nasty Nate, Baby (only
Angry Phil, Philtrol3030, Phil2768, The Mad Communist, Comrade Philski, The Angry One
A-Mac, Satchel Face, Corndog,
Maddog, Breadbox, Shocker, The Mad One, Makeout Kid, Fingers, Three Fingers McGee, Sticky Fingers, The Pisser, Grandma Babushka, Seven Iron, The Pisser, Figley Nuttington
Horse McWilliamson, McGangsta, Gangsta, McGarnigle, McGrupp, Big Bad John, Makeout Bandit, Scuba John, McGillicutty, McG, Juan, Splinter (Because he is a huge rat), Captain Reach Around
Artemis, Artemis Prime, Artemis
Dubbs, J-Dub, Dub-a-Dubs, The Riddler, Dutch Oven
Craigstand, Craigory, Craiggers, BMC (Big Momma Craig), Massey
Who-lia, J-Tits, Boo-lia, Jules, Gulia
Hawk, Turnbull, the Bull, RTV, Michael Rappaport
Chris Cassimus collaborated extensively on this post.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Balls 1. (n.) something awesome. Have you heard the new Franz Ferdinand album? It’s the balls. 2. (ex.) when you do something stupid, or forget something, or are really drunk and have nothing else to say: Oh balls!
Boo (n.) – a person who you have shared familiar relations with. Like that song by Missy or whoever, My Boo. Where is that girl? You know who I’m talking about. Your boo.
Boo-urns – what you can say when a bunch of people are saying “boo” to try and be funny. [booing ensues at the Budweiser tour b/c the tour guide brings up prohibition] T: Boo-urns Bubba: Were you saying Boo, or were you saying boo-urns?
Bring It – a phrase said when you want to gather others to play video games. [trying to get people together for a Halo or Bond match] Let’s bring it.
to Bronsky (v.) – the action of a person minutely shaking their lips while some chick presses her tits on said person’s face. Did you guys see the bronsky that Asian stripper laid on me at Toppers last week?
_______ City – when you’re eating, it’s the place you go (the mental state, not like a restaurant or anything). [having stumbled upon the idea to make Easy Mac] I’m hungry, I think I’ll go to Easy Mac City.
Cold Thuggin’ – the act of wearing pants, a short sleeve shirt, and a hoodie or toboggan or whatever you call those hats that people wear over their heads when they are cold. You also have to be drinking too. We were cold thuggin’ upon our arrival to Jacksonville.
to Crush (v.) – quickly and coherently depleting a resource or a set of DVDs. Ben crushed the Sopranos Season Five DVDs in a couple of days or My Pepperjack Doritos always get crushed by everyone when I leave them on the coffee table.
D-Bag (adj.) – an abbreviation of the word douche bag. That guy was such a d-bag!
Douchenhiemer (adj.) – an douche bag to the nth degree. Apparently, the douchenhiemer cannot survive without hair gel, which is why they use so much of it.
the “Do Her?” Question – when debating a whether or not a chick is hot, the “do her” question always comes up. One person says some chick is hot. Another one says she isn’t. The first person might ask: Would you do her? At which point the second person usually concedes their stance that the chick in question was not hot.
Drake (adj.) – something cool. Man that Qdoba burrito was drake.
Flavor Country (n.) – a place that a person goes to when they are eating something delicious. As soon as the waitress brought him that Fat Elvis, Homer was in flavor country.
to Give the Business (v.) – to get busy with, to do the hibbity-dibbity with, etc. I would totally give Lindsay Lohan the business.
to Go Bonkers (v.) – to excel, in an extreme manner. DJ Shockley went bonkers against Boise State. Note: can also double as "going nutty."
Go to Move – something that person willfully does a lot. That Aspen shirt is Ben’s go-to.
Gritty (adv.) – describes a competition that either competitor could emerge victorious from. Can someone check and see who is winning that gritty match-up between Frank and Nick’s fantasy teams?
the Guy on the Phone – you might be in a situation where people around pick up their phones and pretend to talk to someone. This occurs when one person has a characteristic that others want to make fun of. Let’s say that on a particular evening, T is looking like a big time hipster. Fred might take his phone out of his pocket and say: Hello? [pause] Yeah, he’s here. [another pause] Ok, I’ll tell him [hangs up]. Yo T: Uberhipster Biquarterly Magazine called. They want you for their cover.
Hasmat (adj.) – a person who has one of the following characteristics (a) a tongue ring (b) a truck with a ridiculous lift (c) one or more earrings (d) dates a hot chick and won’t give her the business. He has a tongue ring? What a hasmat!
Hella (adj.) – a qualifier, meant to intensify an adjective (not as extreme as uber). Because I’m hella cool, that’s why.
Hipster (n.) – a person who wears tight jeans, non-primary color t-shirts, black rimmed glasses, and may or may not have tattoos. They listen to Indie music only—most notably Death Cab for Cutie, Bright Eyes, and various Elephant Six bands. They claim to despise all things corporate but they drink coffee that costs three fifty a cup at Jittery Joes. They claim to be non-conformists, but they all wear the same clothes, listen to the same music, and hang out in the same spots as one another. Camp-easy and T made a bet on how many hipsters would be at the upcoming Bright Eyes show.
Ice Grillin’ – having tons of questions asked to you in rapid succession. Carse kept ice grillin’ Frank about the chick who slept over the night before.
In Your Cage – a phrase that coincides with being rattled. If you are rattled, then the people who are rattling you are In your cage!
to Kick Upstairs - to snag a fry or an onion ring or some other side item off someone else's plate. That hamburger looks good. Kick one of those fries upstairs. [grabs a fry off the plate and consumes]
Little _______ Action - substitute food, drink, TV show, video game for the blank, and it refers to what another person is doing. [If Craiggers is eating a Totinos pizza as I walk in] Little Totinos action, huh Craiggers.
to Marinate (v.) – to have something secret, waiting to be unleashed on everyone else. [knowing that a person is about to play Pepper by Butthole Sufers on the iPod they would say:] I got next song on the iPod…I have one that’s been marinating.
the “Mc” Qualifier – adding Mc to the beginning of something increases it’s importance, but is not as severe as the stand alone word itself. If I were to tell Carse McFuck you! I would just be saying it because he did or said something to me. If I straight up said Fuck you! that would be more serious. Other common uses: McBlows, McGay
McSanderson (adj.) – a name applied to someone who is lame. All that McSanderson ever does is dress up like a cowboy and eat pudding.
Nug (n.) – see: Nugget.
Nugget (n.) – something that you’re sitting on, but that you know is the balls, and when you tell everyone else what it is, they will acknowledge it as awesome. [Ben has snuck a bottle of Jim into a football game without anyone else noticing] I’ve got a nugget in pocket.
to Own (v.) – 1. to lay temporary claim to an area or event. Our car owned the highways after mooning Brehobs car and throwing sunflower seeds at that d-bag’s car. 2. to claim victory in a fantasy league. After drafting Paul Pierce in the second round, I claimed that I would own the fantasy league.
P-Binski (n.) – slang for a Pabst Blue Ribbon. I'll have a royal sampler please. Oh, you don't know what that is? It's a vodka/redbull and a p-binski. You don't know what a p-binski is either? It's a PBR--that's Pabst Blue Ribbon.
to Peep (v.) – to see, or look at. Have you peeped the new season of Arrested Development yet? or You should peep my new rap on the fantasy message board.
to Rattle (v.) – to get under someone’s skin, and cause them to make a rash decision. Because of everyone screaming at him at the flip cup table, McGarnigle got rattled and could not flip his cup in the first few tries.
Royal Sampler (n.) – a modification of the Sampler, consisting of a Vodka/Red Bull and a P-Binski. Must be ordered and consumed simultaneously.
Sampler (n.) – a drink, rather, a set of drinks consisting of a Vodka Tonic and a P-Binski (see above). They must be ordered and consumed simultaneously.
Satchmo (adj.) – a really douchey person, who is also a tool. Yo Frank. Look at that Satchmo over there. No, not him. No, not him either. The one who has a pink shirt with his collar up.
to Serve (v.) – the action of making someone else feel like what they just said or did warrents them being made fun of. Homer totally served those Florida fans who walked by our tailgate by asking them if they had a spare pair of jean shorts.
Service (ex.) – an exclamatory remark that is said when another person is serving up people repeatedly. (Usually used after three or more consecutive swishes). [Campbell has just served a few people consecutively and is in the zone] T: Service!
Snare (adj.) – something cool. Fred says that the show South Park is snare.
Swish (ex.) – an exclamatory remark that calls attention to the serving (see above) of another person. Homer: I can’t believe I found Duce Staley on the waiver wire Cass: Yeah, I can’t believe a third string running back was just sitting there! T: Swish! Note: a person cannot give themselves a swish, it must come from a person who is not directly involved in the serving.
Tasty Nug (n.) – a nugget that is so delicious that it needs the tasty qualifier. [Bubba sees a good fantasy player sitting on the draft board in round eight and is in position to draft him] I’ve got a tasty nug coming up.
Uber (adj.) – a qualifier, meant to intensify an adjective. Fred has not eaten in hours, he must be uber-hungry.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Today I must address the greatest danger to America and our way of life. This is an evil that has been plaguing us for several years now. An evil which has employed increasingly hostile methods to further its own cause. I know that this blog has never been a forum for political discussions, and I see no reason to change that, however, I feel that the problem must be properly addressed.
We are all familiar with this problem. Many of us deal with it daily. His name is Chris Cassimus. To many, Chris is known as a loyal friend, a funny guy, and a Greek-American. Don't let his witty man fool you. He is a danger that must be dealt with. Chris is a wolf in sheep's clothing, the bad apple that spoils the bunch, the HIV virus on the tip of the used heroin needle.
My fellow Civitonians: do not be taken in by his "charm."
You may be wondering what would posses someone to sit down and write about Chris in this manner. Well, my friends, allow me to explain. Chris is a deadbeat, a plagerist, and a hoodlum.
Chris would probably not want you to know that he currently owes me $50. This money has been owed to me for over a month now, and I am starting to believe that I will never see it. I have mentioned this to Chris several times, yet he has still not blessed my wallet with the money. In fact, one time, I was at Chris' apartment with him for sevearl hours. While there I asked him for the money, and when I did, he simply laughed and said that he would pay me. Well, Civitonians, this was over two weeks ago, and I have yet to see a dime. Remember that the baseball season is over and I will not be earning any more money until mid-April, so it is important to collect my debts promptly.
Fifty dollars is a big deal, yet, by itself is not enough to declare Chris to be a poison. In fact, I probably would never have realized the truth about Mr. Cassimus if it hadn't been for an incident that occurred over the last several days. This weekend we were at Civy and one of our favorite discussion points was brought up: Moose. I said that someone should write a blog article about him, and Tyler and Chris both immediately "assigned" me the topic, saying I should write it. On Monday, I honestly spent over 30 minutes online trying to find out any information on Moose. Yesterday, (Tuesday) during a stressful day of playing Madden and watching TV, I began to think out how I would address the topic, planning out much of the article in my head. When I became satisfied that the article was properly outlined (and after the World Series of Poker was over), I went into my room to type the article. The first thing I saw was a message from Chris that said "Are you gonna write it?" As soon as I saw it, I responded with "yeh." He then told me that it was "too late" that he was already stealing my topic and that he was "too deep" into writing it to stop.
This is not the only example of Chris stealing ideas. Sophomore year, I started an anti-police group known as PAP (People Against Pigs). Chris became overwhelmed with intense feelings of "jealousy and envy" (in his own words) and started a rival group called PACK (People About Cop Killing). Tsk Tsk Chris, violence is not the answer.
Another time, after becoming extremely covetous of the fact that several of his friends held membership in the underground organization known as CARL, Chris started another unorigonal group called Anti-Carl. This led to a prank war that began with the juvenile act of toilet papering my room, then moved on to me valiently putting shaving cream on his jeep. Chris then caused a massive escalation of the war by SMASHING MY CAR WINDOW, AND ATTEMPTING TO STEAL MY STEREO! I'm not saying that I responded to this, but you should ask Chris where in Georgia he was when his car engine blew up.
I want to make it clear that I do not hate Chris. He is a good friend of mine and a fellow Viper (sssssssssssssssssss), but he is a problem that must be dealt with, if only for the good of America and all of humanity.
The Dude Abides
P.S. I didn't even mention above that during the past year, Chris has been attempting to steal my own father away from me.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
They are Toms, Cruise and Hank.
They are Denzel Washington and Brad Pitt.
They are the elite.
The best of the best.
Ladies and Gentlemen, let me unleash upon you the next actor to join that exclusive list. The English--who knighted him several years ago--know him as Sir Nate Torrence. But the rest of the world will know him by another name:
Nate Torrence was destined, from birth, to be one of the greatest actors in human--or any other kind of life form's--history. He was born in a quaint hospital in Canton, Ohio, under the supervision of Dr. Kenneth Noisewater, the same doctor who delivered both Leonardo DiCaprio and George Clooney. By age three, young Nate was already reciting lines of Hamlet, which annoyed his mother to no end--especially at dinner parties when he would approach her and say "Lady, may I lie in your lap. I mean, my head upon your lap. Do you think that I meant country matters?" Nate was scolded, and was told that Shakespeare was like Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny. He didn't exist. Young Nate was undeterred.
By age eleven, Nate was already drawing comparisons to Marlon Brando, having had the lead in the school play locked up for seven years straight (the principal was considering moving him up, to the sixth graders play--Nate was that good--but he didn't). But one night, one fateful night, Nate's mother walked into his room to find him acting out one of the less-than-hetero parts of Milton's Comus on his favorite stuffed animal--a bear named Mr. Twinkle Britches. He was banned from acting, and his mother forced upon him competitive trampoline gymnastics, which he also excelled in--winning multiple national championships in a span of a couple of years. But Moose would charge (or whatever a moose does, charge? trot? stampede? slowly meander?) on.
So fed up with life, gymnastics, and acting, he fled from home at age sixteen. After years of living in a cottage in New Hampshire, writing a twelve act play about snails, Moose reappeared on the acting landscape.
Who is Moose Torrence? He's rugged. Deviant. Moose doesn't stay tied to one project. No sir-ee. That's why he's guest starred on hit shows such as "Las Vegas," "House MD," "Quintuplets," and "Malcolm in the Middle," delivering All-Universe performances in the roles of Private Turner, Pizza Guy, Moviegoer, and Keith.
Who is Nate "Moose" Torrence? He's the strapping young blond who defies the evil David Spade in those Capital One "No!" Commercials. Determined enough to risk certain death for a Roy Williams Cowboys jersey (when he could just go to NFL.com and get one). Powerful enough to yell like a madman in that VW Bug commercial. Portly enough to make audiences actually think that taking an enterprise rent-a-car to a high school reunion--I mean come on, an enterprise rent-a-car to a high school reunion--is not only a good idea, but the only choice available if you want all those stupid hot chicks who would never make eye contact with you during high school to stop their materialistic and mundane lives and think "Hey: this guy is the balls!" He's just that good.
Tom Cruise. Brad Pitt. Nate "Moose" Torrence.
Get used to it.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Monday, May 02, 2005
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Sunday, April 03, 2005
I POSTED THIS UNDER COMMENTS FOR FEECH'S BCS ARTICLE, BUT REALIZED NO ONE WOULD SEEE IT THERE:
The Q-dubb is my top choice too. For an even better burrito eating experience, order your Q-Doba burrito with the "queso sauce" its a warm gooey, cheesy, yummy, wonder. It doubles the quality of an already fine burrito. Another thing you can do is to get your Q-Doba burrito with the works, which includes the Queso sauce, Sour Cream, and Guacamole forjust about the price of just getting one of these additions.
THE DUDE ABIDES
Whattup Civy dudes and guests!
I am pleased to report that I have a new favorite show. I would be willing to bet that no one reading this, other than the people who watched the show with me yesterday have ever seen it before.
I was flipping through the channels Saturday about or so, bored as shit and unable to find anything cool. This quickly changed when I reached channel 96, a Spanish language channel. And saw a show which I later learned was called "Mega Match." What I saw both shocked and excited me. Before describing the show, I must promise you that I was not under the influence of any drugs or alcohol, and that there were witnesses who watched some parts of the show with me.
Imagine a long row of monkey bars, like 25-30 rungs long. Now there were two teams, one wearing yellow shirts, and one in green. The teams were lined up on the bars, hanging down and facing off towards each other. Right after I began watching, a whistle sounded and the first competitor on each team climbed towards the middle. When they were on consecutive rungs, the dude started kicking the fucking shit out of each other. I mean these fuckers were going at it hardcore. Most of the kicks landed directly in the face or neck, while others struck players in their chests and stomachs! When a player would fall off the rung, his opponent would jump off too and they would both run to the end of their lines. This even went on for three full minutes and was brutal as shit. The highlight of this event was when one player swung his leg around his opponent's neck, and used his other foot to repeatedly kick his opponent in the face. Although he was kicking really hard and rapidly, this opponent actually hung on longer than any other player. It was over 45 seconds before this dude finally lost his grip and was pulled down! Talk about perseverance.
The next event was really sweet too. On this event, there was a long Slip-N-Slide style contraption. It was elevated about 2 and half feet in the air. There was a ramp on the front and back of this Slip-N-Slide, and there was water being pumped onto it so it was completely soaked. Contestants were given two large buckets of water, and the goal was simple: run across the Slip-N-Slide and dump your water into a huge bucket, the whole time, trying to avoid falling. Whichever team got their bucket filled higher would win. Each team was allotted three minutes to get as much water in the bucket as possible. Sounds kinda tough, but still manageable. However, there was catch. While you tried to run across a wet, slippery surface and carry two large buckets of water, the entire other team was positioned below the Slip-N-Slide. The other team would kick up into the Slip-N-Slide, spraying water everywhere, and knocking opponents on the slide. If this wasn't brutal enough, once you fell face first into the slide, the other team continued to kick you. I saw many players get kicked in the face and balls after they had fallen. Some players were kicked so hard that when they lost their balance, they were thrown entirely of the Slip-N-Slide and crash landed on the floor (usually landing on their backs or necks). Needless to say, there weren't too many players who made it safely across.
This was the last of the violent games that I saw, but the final game that I watched on the show was some weird-ass contest where two players would slide across a layer of ice and ring a bell. Whoever rang the bell first would sing karaoke to the crowd. If they did a good job, (which was very very rare) they were rewarded by getting confetti dumped all over them. But, if they did a bad job singing (which happened about 9 out of every 10 times). A trapdoor would open above them, and they would get completely soaked in this red, chunky solution that
Soon after this, the power went out and I was unable to see any more kickassness, however, in advertisements for the show, there appeared to be tons and tons more violent events for me to watch. This show may not sound so kickass to you, but for those of us who watched it, it was completely fucking awesome. At times, I laughed so hard that tears were coming down my face, while at other times, I thought I was gonna have a heart attack.
The only way to honestly describe this show would be to call it a violent version of the show Double Dare.
I only watched for an hour, but the show lasted for 2 or 3 hours (I forgot which). Plus the hostess was really hot and I hope to marry her one day.
I believe that Mega Match airs on Saturdays at on channel 96 (Telemundo).
THE DUDE ABIDES
The competitors: Moe's, Qdoba, Barberitos, Taco Bell.
Formula components: Price. The Aluminum Foil Test. Tasty Nug-ishness.
The PRICE is self explanatory, unless you an idiot, in which case you should stop reading this. Now.
The ALUMINUM FOIL TEST is a scientifically designed test that is the best judge of determining whether or not a burrito will, in fact, be delicious. When the Burrito Artist is finished with his/her work, they wrap the burrito in aluminum foil. The Aluminum Foil Test states that if the aluminum foil does not cover the entire burrito--meaning there is a little strip of freedom that is left unprotected--then it is a guarantee that the burrito will be delicious. For scientific purposes, it should be noted the aluminum foil used is PRE-CUT, meaning that the size of the aluminum foil sheet is an industry standard and therefore can be accurately used for measurement.
TASTY NUG-ISHNESS involves the little things that each competitor does to make every burrito eating experience more enjoyable. For example, if tortilla chips come with my burrito, that is a Tasty Nug. If I can get the chick making my burrito to give me extra beans by flirting with her, that is also a Tasty Nug.
BURRITO #1: The Joey Bag of Donuts (MOE'S)
Aluminum Foil Test: Passes occasionally, but not with the consistency that burrito eaters expect.
Tasty Nugs: Free tortilla chips with burrito (a HUGE plus--this counts double). Only 8 stamps necessary for a free burrito.
Overall: They have a vegetarian burrito called the Art Vandalay. I have no idea what Art Vandalay has to do with vegetarian burritos. The name thing (Joey Bag of Donuts, Art Vandalay, Homewrecker) is different, but too gimmicky. Other than that, Moe's is solid all around, and really steps up it's game with those tortilla chips. BCS SCORE: 4.34
BURRITO #2: Grilled Stuffed Burrito (TACO BELL)
Aluminum Foil Test: Fails. They don't even use aluminum foil.
Tasty Nugs: Can get it drive through, if you like that sort of thing.
Overall Assessment: I can not recommend the Grilled Stuffed Burrito unless you are in hurry and really need a burrito! BCS SCORE: 4.79
BURRITO #3: Chicken Ranchera Burrito (QDOBA)
Aluminum Foil Test: Passes consistently and thouroughly.
Tasty Nugs: There are many. If you flirt with the blond chick, she'll give you extra beans or chicken. If you bring your UGA card, you get a free drink. It takes ten stamps to get a free burrito, but only five to get a free chips and salsa.
Overall Assessment: Delicious, with many Nugs. The epitome of burrito eating. BCS SCORE: 4.01
BURRITO #4: The Fatty (BARBERITOS)
Aluminum Foil Test: Almost always fails. Will pass if you know one of the people working and get them to hook you up.
Tasty Nugs: I think they're supposed to give free chips, but they didn't. Either they forgot, or don't give chips, or something. But I didn't get chips. So no Nug.
Overall Assessment: Skinny burritos. Asshole workers (If you're pissed off because you work at Barberitos, quit. Don't take it out on me). No Nuggets. I cannot recommend Barberitos to anyone. BCS SCORE: 4.81
CURRENT BCS STANDINGS:
1. Qdoba 4.01
2. Moe's 4.34
3. Taco Bell 4.79
4. Barberitos 4.81
Thursday, March 31, 2005
REST IN PEACE
The Dude Abides
Monday, March 28, 2005
I am addicted to old children's movies!
Now I know what you're thinking: "Big fucking deal, thats not really a problem, so you enjoy the Sandlot and Home Alone... so what." Well I wish it were that simple, but I must admit that I am officially out of control. Sure everyone has had a perod in their life when they watched a ton of kid's movies, but for most, this period was called childhood.
Since I have graduated from college, I have regressed to my youthful ways. As the grey hairs multiply, so does my love for children's movies.
You probably think that my problem is not too severe, but allow me to explain. Today is Monday. Since last Wednesday, I have watched no less than 8 childhood classics! I wish I were lying, or exaggerating, but I am afriad that I am not. In case you think I'm lying, I will now list these movies:
The Mighty Ducks
The Nutty Professor
Houseguest (which I had seen less than 10 days earlier)
and The Bad News Bears
I must admit that Wednesday was the first time that I had ever seen Space Jam, but I have watched all of the others countless times (except for Ladybugs which I hadn't seen since 5th or 6th grade, honestly). You would think that watching just one of these movies would satisfy any feelings of nostalgia that I might have been having, but like any addict, with each viewing, I only wanted MORE MORE MORE!
At least drug addicts can get help. Currently, there are no group like "Children's Movie Fans Anonymous." Nor or there public service ads on tv about the dangers of such habits that might warn those who are not yet addicts of this drug.
And yet I still want MORE; like I said above, each movie I watch leaves me wanting to see another.
Since January 1, I have also seen both Home Alones, the Sandlot, Mighty Ducks 2, and countless others that I can't remember.
I need help and I don't know where to turn. PLEASE HELP ME!
I Gotta go now though, I think 3 Ninjas might be on. . .
The Dude Abides
Sunday, March 27, 2005
At this point you're probably asking yourself why does this matter. What does this have to do with Kevin Smith? Nothing. Everything. Because I went to bed early, I woke up early. And only in the early, eyes-half-opened mornings do people see Jersey Girl on the channel guide and think it's a good idea to watch it.
What. The fuck. Was I thinking?
This movie (calling it that weakens the term itself) was terrible. Awful. I don't want to bore you with the details. I don't want to bore you by telling you that it was sad, predictable, poorly written, unfunny garbage. I don't want to bore you by telling you all of the unfunny appearances by celebrities who either:
- Owe Kevin Smith big time.
- Are being blackmailed because Kevin Smith has pictures of them doing it with a Russian prostitute on a pile of trash.
Jersey Girl was bad. Real bad. Bad enough to make me sit down and re-examine my life. I wish I was joking about this. I own, on DVD, Clerks, Chasing Amy, and Dogma (my brother has Mallrats), and have watched the director commentaries on them all. I don't know that I could define High School without these films. We were watching one of them all the time. The summer before our senior year, when we'd get bored someone (usually Chad) would bring up the idea of watching Mallrats in his basement. And because nobody could think of anything better to do, we'd do it. I never even thought about regretting any of those nights until now.
I'm not afraid to admit that I fell asleep the first time I watched Chasing Amy, even though, at heart, it is a chick-flick. I want to focus on this viewing of a film i've seen--and remained awake for--twenty-plus times, because after seeing Jersey Girl I think I might have been onto something. I'm not a psychology major, but I took PSYC 1101, and on occasion I went to class. Freud says all sorts of stuff about the ego, the superego, and the id; and although I don't really remember what those are, I'm pretty sure that at least one of them roughly translates to this: If you didn't think Chasing Amy was good enough to stay awake for the first time, then you knew Kevin Smith has always sucked, but hadn't acknowledged it until now.
And if this is true, part of my high school experience was fake. But I don't want to go that far. Seeing Jersey Girl, did, however, make me come to two conclusions:
- Jersey Girl is so bad, that it falls into the realm of Films that I'm Afraid to Admit I've Seen. See Little Women (yes, Little Women) for a more in-depth explaination.
- Aliens have abducted Kevin Smith, created a robot clone of his body (ala the Evil Bill and Evil Ted Robots) which is controlled by those little, funny-talking aliens who smoke cigars in the Men in Black movies. Seriously.
Now, according to viewaskew.com, Evil Kevin Smith is returning to his roots: making another Clerks movie. I can only hope that the aliens return the real Kevin Smith in time, before Evil Kevin Smith ruins Clerks 2 by trying to make it a "real" movie with things like "plots," "character developement," and "Ben Affleck."
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Those of you who went to Miami on Spring Break will remember Brandon. He was one of the black dudes we hung out with on our last night. He was wearing the blue Kobe throwback. He talked big about how he was a stud basketball player for St. John's.... well... BULLSHIT!!!
St. John's basketball website and not only is there no player named Brandon on the team, but in the entire history of the St. John's basketball program (at least going back to the 60's) there has never been a player named Brandon. Also Trent saw pictures of all the players on the team and no one matched so we were had.
The Dude Abides
Then, once in Miami, I made a startling discovery. Now, this is some serious research and I am thinking of contacting a medical institute in hopes of curbing future generations of Douchenheimers. Upon entering our hotel, which was totally bitchin', we soon met our neighbors. Now, right away I knew something was up because I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was a feeling I only got when in the presence of Douchenheimers. After peeking into the room, I nearly vomited. There must have been 12 of them. Douchenheimers everywhere.
It was at this point that I began to piece together the exact science that is the Doucheheimer. And know I will divulge this information to you, my loyal readers. First off, the gene which causes Douchenheimerness orginates in the New England region. How do I know this? All our neighbors were of this region of this great, great nation. However, it is Boston which is the focal point, or "hot spot" if you will, of the Douchenheimer.
Now that we have pinpointed an exact origin of the gene itself, I must now give you the characterists of one, so that you yourself do not encounter one. Or even worse, become one. From the top, there is the hair. The more gel the better (in the case of the Douchenheimer). They douse themselves in that shit. And the hair must not lie on the head, but rather stick up. If the hair lies down, then the gel must hold it in place like some sort of helmet from a 1930s football team. From there, we have necklaces. Thats right men. Necklaces. With an s, as in plural. As you proceed, you come to the shirt. Button down shirt, however, you would think that they were missing top buttons. That is because they have no use at all for atleast the top 2. In fact, the 3rd and 4th were often missing as well. In addition, a popped up collar. For what reason you may ask, I myself have not unlocked this portion of the Douchenheimer, but trust me, if I find out, you all will be the first to know. So there we have a heads up on what to look for.
Now that I have laid out a look and an origin, I must suggest that something be done. Perhaps it is the water there in the region and if that is the case, we must inform the proper authorites. Friends and colleauges of Civy, I implore you to stay away from Douchenheimers and please, please, do not fall victim to the disease itself. Together, if we hold strong, we can win this battle. I know we can.
Also note the picture below and you yourself will be able to get a visual of the Douchenheimer I have described.
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Frist off i gotta give a lil apology to McGangsta. Even though you did get beat like a redheaded step child by carse in the drinking contest you still were pretty wasted. also sorry for all the seemingly anti-mcgarity comments on my last post but carse and tyler were sitting on both sides telling me to add certain things... anyways...
As soon as i finished writing my last article, carse tried to read it aloud. tyler and frank were witnesses to this and it was hella funny. it took about 20 minutes and a lot of it was repeated over and over. also he struggles with words , basically sealing his MOST WASTED status.
that night i was sleeping when i heard a noise. i looked at the clock and saw 3:33. i looked to my right and i saw Mcgarity holding his penis. he was standing over tyler who was sleeping on the couch. I yelled out "john what are you doing?" he said "peeing" i said "you cant do that... stop!" and i started yelling at him. he put his junk back in his pants and then quickly pulled it back out. he moved about a step to the right and stopped. i started yelling again about how he cant just pee on tyler. john replied with the funniest thing i had heard all day "i'm just gonna go on the couch, not on tyler so its cool." i yelled at him to go to the bathroom, but instead he walked outside. well... about 10 minutes later i was still awake and john hadnt come back yet so i went outside. i wasnt too surprised to find john sleeping flat on his back in the grass outside! after a few minutes of trying to convince him to come back in i finally said fuck it and went to bed. about an hour later john came in and started bitching about how freezing it is outside. i asked him if he remembered almost peeing on tyler and he said "shit yeah i do!"........
The next day was Miami and the sweetest thing was probably going to tha bitchin club. Someone came up to the room and and some wrist bands that were suposed to get us into a hot club for free. So we all went down and walked for like 45 miles following behing this shady dude who just kept meeting up with more shady people and saying that we were almost there. When we go tthere of course the club wasnt free and the wanted $20 for the dudes.... McFuck that! So we went to another club where thay said it was $5 to get in and we would get a free drink voucher. I paid the money but half the peope didn't (FUCK YOU T). I went in the club to find a small ass club with like 3 people in there. Phil told me and T that the free drink was just orange juice, so T decided to take matters into his own hands and piss all over their bathroom floor. Well... I was the fourth person in the bathroom and it was fucking disgusting, but i noticed that one wall was bare so i finished off the job.
By far the sweetest thing that happened there was when this Ecxtasy'd out retarded looking bitch started dancing with T. Oh man, it was so funny! This was one of the scariest bitches i'd ever seen and they were dancing pretty close when T started petting her hair. The funniest though was when she started trying to play with his McPenis. This scared T off, but when he left her along, she came over and stuck her hand up my shirt and tweaked my nipple. I just turned around and ran off laughing. When we left we saw her walking with a couple of black dudes... can you say "gangbang?"
Another thing that ruled about the club was that we all go to dance with this huge black chick and by huge i mean about 2.5-3 bills big. We all danced with her and her gigantic ass almost knocked us over. She loved T the best though and there is a sweet pic of him with her. Other cool things that night were DJ Alex and also the induction of the first female member to the Makeout Posse.
man... this kentucky cinci game is sweet... i gotta watch the rest now
i'll be back tomorrow or monday with part 2 of miami...
look forward to reading about:
The Douchenheimer Convention
Jocelyn's Bro's Adventures
My sweet-ass hat
THE DUDE ABIDES