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.