Sunday, December 18, 2005

Friday, December 16, 2005

The Sad and Awful Truth

We were making predictions last night over pints of fresh brewed-on-the-premise beer at Copper Creek. The topic: scarves. Who of the people we knew would be most likely to wear a scarf. And not wear it with that joking hey-look-at-me-i'm-going-out-in-a-scarf attitude (which, I can only imagine is similar to the hey-look-at-me-i'm-going-out-in-basketball-shorts-and-a-polo-shirt attitude), but just randomly show up ready leave for downtown with a scarf draped around the neck and everyone in the room cocking their head and narrowing their eyes thinking is so-and-so really wearing a scarf before ensuing with an onslaught of insults.

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

Directory of Nicknames

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

Allen, Ben:

Bensama Ben-Allen, Grandpa, Ballen, B. Allen (like B. Rabbit of 8 mile), The Plagerist

Altman, Kevin:

Feivel, Diesel, The Drill, Witness

Armistead, Ben:

Army, Amistad, Armistice, Ben-er, Benweiser

Barnet, Fred:

Ferd, IV, Sam Camino (alias), the Frederal Express, Fake Fred, PH, Derf, North Pole Brain Freeze, Fred Bear, Nut Boy, Clint Eastwood

Berrier, Steven:

Bubba, Bubbubbubbubba, Bad Beat Bubba, Bubbalicious, Berrier (pronounced the French Canadian way, like Perrier), Bubs

Brockwell, Roger:

Rodg, Podactor, The Nodge, Noger, Massey

Campbell, Ryan:

Easy Street, Camp-easy, Easy, Hurricane, Progresso, 51

Campbell, Trenton:

T-Rex, Iceman, Trent Vick, Bizarro Ping Pong Table, Soup

Carse, Steven Andrew:

Carl, SAC, Steve-O, Bufa, Crazy Carl

Cassimus, Chris:

Cass, Casmonstah, Cassanova, Dirty Olive, Bob Sacamano (alias), C-Cass, Greeky McGreekerson, Sir Edmund Hillary, Diamonds, Pickle Boy, Dough Boy, John Malkovich

Club, Civy:

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

Gupta, Sabina:


Harris, Brent:

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

Holowiak, Nick:

Nick’s Burgas, Nicholas, Nicholai, Burgosity, Anger Management Nick, Recreationial Nick, Fucking Nick, Effin Nick, Gnick, Nick Van Winkle

Hopkins, John:

Hop, Herpkins, Herpsperps, Hopdog

Johnson, Chris:

Poonhound, Cock Johnson, Anal Fister, CJ

LaFleur, Tyler:

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

Ledford, Nathan:

Nasty Nate, Baby (only Shari says this), Natey Nate, Nathan Scott Philips, Nate Dogg, Nate Dizzle, Nizzle, Nathan "The Ass Rapist" Ledford

Lewin, Philip:

Angry Phil, Philtrol3030, Phil2768, The Mad Communist, Comrade Philski, The Angry One

MacDonald, Ashley:

A-Mac, Satchel Face, Corndog, Surge Tower, Sashley, Ashmac

Massey, Joshua:

Maddog, Breadbox, Shocker, The Mad One, Makeout Kid, Fingers, Three Fingers McGee, Sticky Fingers, The Pisser, Grandma Babushka, Seven Iron, The Pisser, Figley Nuttington

McGarity, John:

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

Noll, Arthur:
Artemis, Artemis Prime, Artemis Clyde Frog, Art Fellatio, Artman Knollski

Riddle, Jason:

Dubbs, J-Dub, Dub-a-Dubs, The Riddler, Dutch Oven

Seaman, Craig:

Craigstand, Craigory, Craiggers, BMC (Big Momma Craig), Massey

Titolo, Julia:

Who-lia, J-Tits, Boo-lia, Jules, Gulia

Vaughn, Robert:

Hawk, Turnbull, the Bull, RTV, Michael Rappaport

Wei, Dichao:

Frank, Frizzle, Franklin, Dirty Frank, Crabby Frank, Asian Chris Tucker on Speed, Bizarro Massey, Dorm Boy, Lieutenant Reach around

Chris Cassimus collaborated extensively on this post.

Thursday, November 03, 2005


A work in progress of the official dictionary of things we say:
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

The Greatest Danger To America

Friends, Civitonians, random visitors:

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

Ladies and Gentlemen: Sir Nate Torrence

There are a select few actors in Hollywood who command multi-millions per film. They are the elite. The best of the best. Producers know that even though the script might be garbage (see: Collateral), or that the director might be a child molesting coke addict (see: Man of Fire), these actors can and will cause the film to make a profit. Because they are the elite. Their names transcend both space and time. Their mere presence on the screen causes women to swoon, gods to be created, and kingdoms surrender to their eternal glory. They are Jack Nicholson. They are Robert DeNiro.

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 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.

Feech. out.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

A new old favorite

I just returned from the greatest course I have ever taken in my educational career. This includes elementary school all the way through the semester in college I am currently in. I am talking of course about the amazing bowling course that the University of Georgia offers. I can only describe the class as "totally balls." You walk in, grab some kicks, find your ball (in my case its the 12 pounder with the large finger holes), jump on a lane and throw rocks, baby. Today was a fairly good day as I bowled a 136 and a 129. However, one of the greatest days of my life occured only last week on October 3rd when I bowled a 185. It felt as though the bowling gods themselves were guiding my green orb down the lane and annihilating those helpless, wooden pins. I almost felt sorry for the little fellas until I glanced up at the scoreboard to see a big X. For those unfamilar with the sport, the X is the sign of a strike which, of course, is the most glorious moment a bowler can experience. You may be thinking, "why the hell would someone like myself want to bowl?" And to this I would merely say Bowling rocks. In addition, I have found that alcohol does not impair your skills. In fact, I would argue that I have thrown some of my better games following a binder the nite before and won money while drinking heavily and bowling. All in all, bowling is a fabulous course and I suggest any of those who have not yet taken it to do yourself a favor and enroll in it. You will not regret it, I promise. As I conclude this, the latest entry in the Civy Times, I have only one thing to add. In the words of the legendary Walter Sobchak, "Fuck it, dude. Let's go bowling."

Monday, May 02, 2005

Where do we go?

Ah, another school year is about to come to a close. On the eve of the last regular day of school I'm afraid I don't know what is next. After succesfully failing to attain an internship I am looking forward to a summer of cottan candy sales, fourth of july fun in Nebraska and any other random money making adventures. In a way I'll have my loyal roomates with me, but at the same time I will be completely alone. While they all have some type of plans, I will be aimlessly wondering around the civy. In a way it will be nice, I will have a chance to learn of the many nuances of my current residence that I have not yet understood. I will grow as a person, but more importantly as a civitonian. What once seemed like a curse now may turn out to be a blessing. Either way, all of those that have frequented the hottest spot on the east side has had a chance for the Civitan Club spirit to touch you. Now it is your job to go out into the world and embrace what you have learned. 154, 156 and 158 Civitan Club Drive may one day be a grocery store or maybe something more exciting like a hover craft assembly plant, but either way we will all have memories and something that they can take with them forever. What I've learned so far is that civy club is not a place, but a state of mind. I hope that those who will not be in athens next year know that the doors are always open and coaches always available. At the same time, I hope that the adventures that take place next year are greater than ever. As only Maddog can put it "we must protect this house." I guess what he is trying to say is: Live each day to protect, but also help others to see that everyone has the capacity to learn a lil sumthin' sumthin' from the place/mindset that we call Civy Club.

Sunday, April 10, 2005

2v2 Bball tourney

It is almost time. The first ever Civy Club 2v2 basketball tournament will take place within the next month. The plan is to have about a $10 entry fee. Half of the money will go the winners and the other half toward a keg for afterwards. It is street ball and expected to be treated with the same respect that we have toward civitan club drive. If you have any suggestions about day, time, entry fee, awards or ideas please let me know or post in the comments area. I hope to hear from you soon,


Sunday, April 03, 2005



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 Mean Bean

It is a shocking and surprizing that you left The Mean Bean out of your burrito contest. It's most definetly in the top 3 in Athens and in my opinion the best. If you have not been I suggest you give it a shot, it will not disappoint.


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 noon 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 Tyler said looked like "coagulated cow's blood."

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 Noon on channel 96 (Telemundo).


BCS: Burrito Championship Series

BCS: Works much like the College Football BCS in that it really doesn't make any sense. The lower the score, the better. Compromised of three criteria, equally weighted. Computer polls have been eliminated.

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.

The Analysis:

BURRITO #1: The Joey Bag of Donuts (MOE'S)

Price: 5.99.

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)

Price: 2.79

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)

Price: 5.49

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


Price: 5.49

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

1. Qdoba 4.01
2. Moe's 4.34
3. Taco Bell 4.79
4. Barberitos 4.81

Thursday, March 31, 2005


For those of you who haven't heard, comedian Mitch Hedberg was found dead this week in his hotel room. He was one funny son of a bitch. If you don't know who he is, you need to go out and download some of his shit or ask me and ill let you borrow some. I got to see him live not long ago and dude was funny as nutz. A real genius.


The Dude Abides

Monday, March 28, 2005

I have a problem. . .

They say that recovery is a long process with many steps and that the first step to recovery s admitting that you have a problem. well, I have a problem. A very real and very serious problem.

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:

Space Jam
The Mighty Ducks
The Nutty Professor
Blank Check
Houseguest (which I had seen less than 10 days earlier)
Jury Duty
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

Who is that Fat Guy, and What Did He Do with the REAL Kevin Smith?

Last night I fell asleep early. I didn't go out and get McWasted. In fact, I didn't drink any booze at all (unless you count that beer I had with dinner--which I don't). I fell asleep early after watching Louisville and Illinois come back from twenty and fifteen point deficits respectively. By the time Salim had showered and got onto the bus and yelled at Hassan for taking that stupid shot, I was knocked out.

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:
  1. Owe Kevin Smith big time.
  2. Are being blackmailed because Kevin Smith has pictures of them doing it with a Russian prostitute on a pile of trash.
This is not what I was expecting. Kevin Smith, in the timespan of one film has transformed from that slapstick, obscene, joke-a-minute friend we all have and like to be around, and into that guy sitting in the back seat of those Nissan commericals singing "Man, it Feels Good to be a Woman." I liked Kevin Smith's other movies because they were funny. They wern't the same predictable bullshit you get when you go see How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. They have lines like "You are the ones who are the ball-lickers!" They refer to Stink-Palming. They are about dorky guys who read comics and work crappy jobs and sell drugs and generally are not productive members of society. And they are hilarious.

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:
  1. 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.
  2. 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, 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."

Feech. Out.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005


Yo Whazzup my Civvies!

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

Gonzo T (left) with a Douchenheimer. Posted by Hello

Regardless of my soon to get tattoo (NO FAT CHICKS), I found a diamond in the rough in Miami at tha hotass clizzub. Holla. Posted by Hello

Shocking Research On "The Douchenheimer"

I recently spent a totally kickass week in Miami, FLA, and on the ride down, I found myself constantly thinking of one thing: the Douchenheimer. I had noticed that in Athens there seemed to be an increase in the Douchenheimer population, but where was this flood coming from? It was leading me to less sleep.

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

Miami--Part I

Yo whazzup Civitans! Its halftime now for the Kentucky Cincinati game and so i'm gonna write the first of what will probably be many post-Miami articles.

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
Baja Fresh
and more!!!


Sunday, March 13, 2005

the drunkard

what the fuck dudes. I'm pretty wasted, but I envy you for the fact of getting wasted 3 times before me. I love you for that. The thing is that im totally wasted adn you guys are totaly cool. Keep it reail I love you guys so andkeep it ril...



On the ride down today, Tyler started off the most wasted competition strongly. At a rest stop, T bought a 6-er of Busch tall boys at about 2pm. I wasnt about to get arrested for open container so Tyler was forced to drink the beers from a small Burger King water cup (12 oz). T started drinking, and not too much later, we began stopping for bathroom breaks. Every time after a break it would be like 20 minutes before T would start crying about how his "pea sized chick bladder" was full and he had to piss NOW. But John was driving and wouldnt stop even though T was really in pain and John's own bladder wasnt any biggerthan T's. In fact, John went to the bathroom 3 times compared to T's 4 times, but John wasnt drinking.

arrive...dinner... HAROLD AND KUMAR STILL ROCKS MY MOTHERFUCKIN NUTZ!!!! (5 times in a week, but im still second to T's 7 times)

After a sweet night of drinking, Carl was named MOST WASTED for the 1st night of Spring Break 2K5. To claim the crown, Carl destroyed McGarity in a Wasted Off. The first contest was a 12 shot beer drinking contest. Even though everyone agreed that Carl won, it was given a tie based on a scoring error. In the rematch Carl, McSmoked John, finishing all 12 of his beers in a single breath while John struggled fiercly and left 5 behind. 10 minutes later (no shit) John finally finished his beers after a lot of McBitching and Douchenheimering around. John couldnt accept defeat and challenged Carl to a liquor drinking.

Carl was supposed to drink two shots of Seagrams Gin while John was drinking two shots of Evan Williams. John got off to a quick start, but Carl quickly slammed his shots and claimed the crown.
Rather than accept his humiliation, John whined and bitched like a Jewish mother with PMS (trust me I know).

p.s. As I am writing this, Steve is mad wasted and i have no idea what he is talking about and John has been sleeping the entire time I have been typing

p.p.s John is a sore loser and a douchenheimer


Thursday, March 10, 2005


When many of you were still suckling at the teat that is Shiloh High School, I, along with Big Carse, Grassy and Straight Nate, procured a room at Chez Civy. There was a palpable tension on the street the day we moved our belongings into those hallowed halls. Curtains from adjacent houses were peeled back and nervous eyes stared back at us from the safety of neighboring units- units similar in appearance, but oh so drastically different on the inside.
"The sweetest girls used to live in this one," said the realtor, giving Carse the key.
"That's nice," said Straight, putting out his cigarette on the realtors forehead.

You could almost hear the neighbor's putting the police on their speed dial that day. Who knew it was completely legal to leave a futon and a keg in the front yard for 3 months, but illegal to leave a trash can in the same yard for more than 24 hours? Who knew a '97 Maxima could take down a large tree, but that it could not overtake that same trash can? At the time, none of us knew, but we all learned together that first year. Roommates, neighbors, police, Clarke County Marshal's, drug dealers, et. al.

I won't bore you with tall tales from our years there. No doubt your own adventures are your favorite, but remember one thing: we made it possible. Carse did mainly. Big Carse. Thats the great thing about Civy Club - it truly IS a club. No one knows what it is until you tell them about it. We told you about it. You're welcome.

Wassup wit dat

Hello everybody. I am pleased to award phil with the blogger of the week award. The Knock is in a close second, but dissed me so I guess you don't win. Anyway I'm proud of both of you. Keep up the good work

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

a brief disclaimer regarding eric cerny

eric cerny, to eschew circumlocution, is an anomaly of a nature- a freak, a mutant...arguably he is a monstrosity. whisimically wandering about 164 civitan club and its proximities, one will occasionaly encounter the antics of this bizarre creature who summarily demands blankets, silence, and above all, respect. to avoid confrontation, in luckless cases that oblige one to interact with him, accustom yourselves to his typical behavior for the purpose of eluding shock and subsequent psychological trauma, which involves clandestinely lurking through the woods to pursue apocryphal drug dealers, brutishly smashing random objects in driveways and streets, and terrorizing locals for offenses that include flushing toilets after excreting and dwarf trepassing. when not pillaging civitan club, he regales in gorging vulgar quantities of food, frightening young children, conniving to sell fraudulent insurance policies to those who cannot afford them, and cultivating an increasingly sexual relationship with his collection of fresh water fish. his appearancew is austere, his origin is unknown, and his demand for the blanket is inexorable...he is eric fucking cerny. approach with caution.>.

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

I think Nessie got him.

I think Nessie got him., originally uploaded by camelink.

I don't know how this "fearless" leader ever got you guys to do anything. I mean look, he's scared of the water.

Friday, March 04, 2005


I think that the meaning of the Civy Club Times is to promote camraderie and a healthy living space among the 20 some odd roommates. Nobody actually knows how many people are currently living there or have ever lived there in the past. The most that I saw during a glorious 2 years on the Drive was about 7 in the neighbors' house. I guess that would be 156 Civy Drive? Anyway, throughout the years since the Civy has been with it's current owners I have remembered some interesting times and wish i had remembered a lot more (rib jab if ya know what i mean). From the early days when Grassy didn't drink and we had to feed him Mike's Hard Lemonade to the upstairs vs downstairs wrestling matches to the heritage cups i don't know if i can count the number of holes i have had to patch in those (oh so thin) walls. Now i go back to visit being called 'Big Carse' and playing flip cup a drinking game foriegn to me during my years of residence. Ahh i think back on all the times, all the great folks, and all the weirdness that the Civy has brought into my life. Ya gotta love it.

Thursday, March 03, 2005

Sports aren't so bad

By Steven Carse

The Superbowl has passed, football’s national signing day is over, basketball is in full swing and baseball’s spring training is about to begin.

Too much? Has America’s obsession with sports gotten out of control?

Are we making heroes out of people simply because they can run fast, jump high or throw a football?

Have we Americans – sports journalists included – distorted what life is all about?

As a journalism student who hopes to become a sports writer, my curiosity was sparked when the National Hockey League cancelled its season. Life did not come to a standstill. Nothing changed.

Are sports really that important?

You would think so if you turned on ESPN or read sports pages, as I do for hours every day. Veteran sportscasters talk seriously about high school students, some only sophomores or juniors in high school, and their future on the field or the court. Newspapers interview teenagers thought to be the next Herschel Walker or Lebron James.

Are sports, my passion for 21 years, just trivial games after all?

As an aspiring sports journalist am I mapping a future of reporting on steroid abuse and collegiate sports corruption? Is that a worthy career path?

Those thoughts caused me to think back to my days at Shiloh High School in Snellville and “walk” forward, recalling the young athletes I knew and the games we played.

Bottom line: I think organized sports in America offer more than they take away from the experience of growing up and fitting into a high school or university environment.

Yes, some athletes ignore the classroom and everything else in their lives but their sport. And, yes that can lead to massive failures as human beings in later life.

But I know that sports motivate many people to stay in school and keep their grades up so they can stay eligible.

I saw this first hand, as teammates who could care less about algebra hit the books so they could play in front of their classmates. Sports teach the value of hard work and discipline, two concepts that do not come naturally to teenagers.

Entering high school, a 14-year-old lanky freshman, I was convinced to run cross country by my soccer coach. Running, an activity I despise, became an important part of my life. I wanted to be a motivation to my teammates – as they were to me – improve myself and please my coach.

In four years, I pushed myself further than I could ever have imagined. The feeling I got when I crossed the finish line knowing I could have gone no harder, was something I never will forget. Sometimes I collapsed and threw up crossing the finish line. Yet, those were the races I cherish most. I knew I had exerted myself until I truly and nothing else to give – and that was an achievement I have seen many other teenagers realize.

Sports also create togetherness, an opportunity for an entire school – book worms as well as athletes – to cheer.

Sports teach teamwork and show first hand that success is bigger than any one person.

Sports are a stage for all the ideals held most high in this country to come together and be displayed.

The chances for any athlete to make it to the professional level is incredibly slim, but even those who fail to reach that goal do not lose. By simply going along for the ride athletes, talented or not, are better for it and so are we as a community.

Saturday, February 19, 2005

Mission Statement

The Civy Club Times is dedicated to you. We hope to provide valued opinions and breaking news, as well as a glimpse into what life on Civitan Club Drive is really like. ENJOY.