Chris goes to the hood!

December 30, 2008

Being that I am the luckiest man alive, I got stuck steering the ship at work, all by myself this year, for that wonderful gap in between Christmas, and New Years. Everyone else has taken vacation days to pretty much make it a two-week holiday. Not me. Yeah, I took a few extra vacation, sick, and personal days this year. For things like, trips to the ocean, opening day for the Reds, watching a sick child, and Boomer Esiaison’s Birthday (the holiest of days). This means I am pretty much all by myself, manning the retards at work. I was looking forward to it, since the two holidays landing right in the middle of the week, it really only meant about 6 days of work, over two weeks. Then the news arrived, that we would be starting a new project, in a less than ideal neighborhood, at a H.U.D. project, doing things our crew had never done before. This pretty much meant I had to clear an entire day to not only supervise, but pretty much teach as well. I was to find the materials we would need, research the methods we would be using, find out the various codes we had to follow, and then find a way to put it into action. All while trying to keep an unhappy clan of laborers from spending their Christmas bonus on a crack whore down the alley from where we would be working. I was told the house itself was pretty scary, and the neighborhood more so. I had heard rumors about the family living there, and secretly prayed they were exagerated. Then I got to the job. I was a block or two away when I started to regret the fact that I was un-armed. Most of the houses were sporting the newest fad in window technology. Rotted plywood. I saw a lot of busted forties, some aboandoned vehicles, maybe a dead guy, and some stray dogs. Yeah! The house next door had at least 12 dogs in the backyard. Most of which seemed to be some type of pitbull mix, and had either just had puppies, or were about to have more. I arrived at the house and discovered my resourceful crew had taken advantage of the playwood window thing, by kicking it out, and loading tools into the basement that way. This was a wise move, because once I went inside the house, I was certain there was no way the flooring would support the weight of our tools. I began to wonder if breakfast from Sonic was a good idea this morning. I was greeted by the soon to be owner. He was a mix between Andy Dick, and one of the bad gremlins. His wife was super hot also. She was a mix between a young Roseanne bar, and a John Belushi’s corpse. I was super glad to be there. On one trip out to my truck, one of the neighbors dogs had gotten out, and was walking my way. I debated sprinting for my truck, and slamming the door, but opted for the “play it cool” approach. This kind of worked, as the dog did not attack me, but was still getting closer. It had that confused look evil dogs get, when they can’t decide whether or not to bite a chunk out of your fat ass. I was at my truck, door open, and the dog was right behind me, sniffing my leg. Maybe the Sonic from earlier in the morning would help after all. My tire iron was on the other side of the back seat of my truck, all I had to fight back with was a Lowes sack with several boxes of nails in it. I was ready to strike the first blow, when somewhere down the way, either a car backfired, or someone was shot, and the dog scattered. Threat was over. I went back in, and got my crew back on track to get the job finished. Before I could flee, I got stuck talking to the people who lived there. It kinda broke my heart seeing little kids live like that. Their baby was roughly my kids age. They were nice folks though. They were doing the best they could, had just bought there first house, and were trying to fix it up. It was a shithole though. If you took a crayola 64 pack, you could match each color up with a stain on the carpet, and not have any crayons un-used. You could bring in a team of scientists, who even if they stayed there a month, doing every study known to man, could never, guess what the original color of the carpet was. There is no way in hell, that I would spend one night in that house. Even if you promised me a Billion dollars (Billion with a B), and showed me a signed contract, where my wife had agreed to a three-way with myself, her, and Tom Brady’s girlfriend, there’s no way I would ever find myself in that area after dark. In the end, we got all the work done, had provided much needed improvements, and did it all for a good cause. Money from the real estate company.

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Merry Christmas Everyone.

December 24, 2008

God Bless us Everyone! The immortal words of Tiny Tim, who eventually lost his battle with his addiction to airplane glue. Strong words then, and just as strong now. I send out wishes for all of you out there reading this, to have a very merry Christmas. For those who don’t read this. Go fuck yourself. I do hope everyone can be with family and friends, and enjoy the Holiday to it’s fullest. Enjoy the day, enjoy the season, and most important of all, enjoy all the cool shit you will get.

I am super stoked to be celebrating my first Christmas as a parent. You can’t imagine how sweet it is to be able to buy toys for presents again. As bad as it sucks trying to get around in a toy store at Christmas time, it will be totally worth it to watch the “Big D” play with all his cool new toys. As I was haphazardly wrapping the gifts I bought, while watching Bowl games, I rememberred something from my childhood. The harder it is to wrap, the shittier the wrapping job looks, the cooler the gift. If something is in a nicely proportioned box, with tight fitting paper, and little visible tape. It’s gonna suck. It could be a Nintendo, or a Blue Ray player, but more times than not, the prettier the packaging the shittier the gift. A box holding a sweater is always wrapped nicely. A huge train that makes about 79 different noises, and is motorized, and can support the weight of a small child, cannot be wrapped neatly. If it has multiple angles, a dozen or so corners, sides, and paper seams, It’s gonna kick ass. If it took an entire roll of paper, and then some scraps of an entirely different kind of paper to cover the ends. It’ll be the best gift you got. If it comes in a bag with pretty tissue paper inside, the person who got it for you doesn’t really like you. Kids get the coolest gifts, and I am looking forward to being able to give them for years to come. This year, our son may be too young to notice, or really care what the hell is going down, but the time will come where two clashing ideals will be tested. You see, even though I was a little bastard as a kid, santa loved and respected me. My Santa growing up, was not lazy. When I would come down the stairs (usually in the middle of the night while everyone was asleep). I would discover that Santa had not only already been there, (usually it was up in the air as to whether or not I was “nice”, and caused a lot of lost sleep for young CT) but he had taken the time to not only get my sweet new toys out of the box, but the assembly was taken care of as well. My Santa loved me. He knew I had no time to “unwrap” my toys, let alone wait for my parents to put them together. New bike: ready to race. Star Wars Ewok Village: Ready to trap people in the little net. Electric Football: Ready to figure out it actually sucked. Nintendo: Ready to turn Mario loose. All my toys were ready to rock. I was able to sneak down at night, discover that somehow, some way, santa had actually not been seeing me when I was naughty. All the bad shit I had done had gone under the radar. My stack of presents were down there, in between my two siblings gifts. They never had to swaet it out like I did, they followed a lot of rules. I’d sneak back to bed, try and fall asleep, and then when the sun finally had come up, and my parents said it was o.k. I would sugar up, and get to playing with all my new stuff. My spouse on the other hand, was visited by a far more lazy Santa. A more half-assed version. Her presents were still in the box, not put together, and by some miracle, in the same wrapping paper her parents had used for their gifts. The debate has already started at our house. Which Santa will come see our children. The coolest, most thoughtful santa of my youth? Or, the just do enough to get by, socialist Santa that visited my wife as a child? I always knew the reason my Santa had hooked me up with the V.I.P treatment, because I had left carrots for his reindeer, as well as cookies for him. I always left Santa a note to give extra carrots for Blitzen, he never got enough credit. He was the Bill Laimbeer of reindeer. This is what got Santa to actually take the time to assemble my stuff, I know it. 

So someday soon, the question must be answered. So I ask all of you to help us decide this once and for all, before it gets ugly. Which Santa should visit my kids.

Merry Christmas to everyone out there. For those I will be able to be with, I’m looking forward to it more than ever. For those I will not be able to be with this year. I’ll be thinking of you, and pouring out a forty in your honor.

Happy Birthday “DRF”

December 23, 2008

Today marks the anniversary of the accidental birth of our own Disgruntled Reds Fan. If you see him, buy him a beer, and kick him in the junk. “DRF” hope you have a good one, and since you are so old, know this. All the presents you got for your birthday, count as Christmas presents too. That’s how life is, getting old sucks.

Today, I got scammed by a sporting goods chain whose name rhymes with “Bick’s” As with most really really cold, or really really hot days, the people I am in charge of magically call in sick. Today the amount of people who didn’t have “funerals” the “flu” or “herpes” left us with too few workers, for too much work. Couple this with the short week, heavy rains scheduled, and people’s vacations. This meant I was going to get dirty, and freeze my grapes off. The plan was for me to meet one of the more “slightly” dependable guys out on the jobsite, and be his bitch. Since I had to go home and change, I had time to think about the options at my disposal, as far as sub-freezing weather clothes that I could trash go. It was looking grim, as other than expensive ski pants, my lower limbs would only be shielded by denim, or cargo pant. “What material is that one suit made out of” I thought. “There is that one pair of thermal underwear I’ve had since 8th grade” “Did I finally let my wife convince me I was 80 pounds bigger than I was 15 years ago, and threw them away”? What was I to do? As I made the call to my wife, letting her know I would not be able to keep up my half of the Daycare dropoff/pickup bargain, I darted into the parking lot of a major chain sporting goods store. I used to like this place when they were under the Galyans chain. Now, they blow. I was just there a few days prior, Christmas shopping, and it sucked really, really bad. SO bad, that I vowed to never go back. This would be my shortest boycott since the riblet incident of ’02. In I went, looking for either some affordable over-all’s, or what used to be called “long underwear”. Apparently when you ask some gay dude where the “long underwear” is, he assumes you are hitting on him, and making references to his package, and he gives you a very, very uncomfortable smile. “Cold Gear-Base leggings” is what “long Johns, and thermal underwear used to be called. It’s pretty much only made by Under Armour, and one pair costs $50.00 (when on sale). I laughed when the 3rd gay dude I had talked to showed me this. I asked if they had a 3-pack of of a similar product, possibly made out of cotton, by like Hanes or Fruit of the loom. He looked at me like I was stupid, and enlightened me as to how “cotton is a no-no”. Apparently “Cotton is the enemy, it makes you sweat, and doesn’t wick water” I don’t know about you, but whenever I have to be outside in sub-10 degree weather, leg sweat is always what ruins it for me. What kind of retarded world is this, where Under Armour has decided what we can, and can’t wear? Not all people are gay dudes with shaved chests. Some of us actually are real dudes. We don’t buy shiny material-ed shirts with the sleeves already removed. We don’t generally care if we look cool when we are either trying to not freeze to death, or working out. I myself am fat, and hairy. You know what always comes with those two? Sweaty. Where it goes when it leaves my pores, I could give a shit. For me sweating is just another way of giving my liver a break. I think my actual legs have broke a sweat like 7 times my entire life. Knee pits, feet, crotch, maybe. But legs? Even if they are sweating, I gotta guess the sweat will be somewhere in the 98 degree range, thus making it about 92 degrees warmer than the outside air. Sounds like I need that sweat. I found what may have been the only hetero employee they have. He was stationed in the hunting section. Imagine that. He told me they used to have brown, green, and camo colored cotton thermal undies, but since they don’t wick that deadly shin sweat, they stopped selling them. He found another pair, not made by Under Armour, for the low low price of $39.00. On sale! What a deal this was. I went home put them on, and then I got really pissed. I had just bought a 40 dollar pair of dudes pantyhose. At least they were supposed to wick sweat. So there I was out in the 8 degree weather, with a fancy pair of man stockings on underneath my pants. Judging by the disappearance of my genitalia the one time I tried to pee, and the fact that I could not feel my legs, the high tech fabric was almost as effective at keeping me from freezing, as a good bottle of Bourbon. When I showered tonight, I noticed the water was turning black. I wasn’t that dirty. Really just trying to smell a little better, and get warm. The retarded leggings had soaked into my skin, turning it black. Even after 30 minutes of scrubbing, my legs are still gray. From here on out, the Boycott of Dick’s sporting goods is in full effect. And for Gods sakes people, bring back cotton long underwear. We may not look like a male model, and we may end up with a nice damp crotch ring, but come on.

Player of the year

December 22, 2008

He might not get all the credit, and most fans may have never heard of him, but there is one guy in the NFL that should be the player of the year, the MVP, or something. Shaun Smith of the Cleveland Browns. The defensive tackle gets overshadowed by some of his teammates, but yesterday he was able to do something that puts him over the edge of his competition. Something that every red blooded American male has wanted to do at least one time in his life. Punch Brady Quinn. Apparently yesterday after loosing to group of walk-ons, has beens, and who-the-hells? known as the cincinnati bengals, the Cleveland locker room came un-done. At least one fight broke out, mainly the one between the 2nd year pretty boy franchise QB, and the soon to be released defensive tackle. From what the reports say, it wasn’t much of a fight. The man twice the other guys size came out on top. Even though it probably cost Smith his job, good for him. Who hasn’t wanted to punch Brady Quinn at some point in time? Most Browns fans would even admit, they’d like to take a shot at the golden boy. Smith was just living the dream, and it’s gonna cost him dearly. Not only will he be cut as soon as it becomes financially safe for the Browns, he may have pretty well screwed his future in the league. A few years back the Bengals finally had returned to the playoffs. All was well. The whole Bengal nation had waited over a decade for this day, and then it all went to hell. Palmer, and Henry both went down for the count on one play. Odell Thurman fell off the wagon, and Jon Kitna was just Jon Kitna. The steelers ripped their hearts out, on the way to the title. After the game, reports swirled about a fight between Ocho Cinco, and one of the coaches. They said Chad had to be subdued. Luckilly the Pittsburgh defense was there to do that. After about the 900th question about the rumored fight, Marvin Lewis snapped. Saying it was all not true, and that he was going to find out who told people all that, and make sure they never play for the Bengals again. Basically a promotion for all but a few people on that team. As soon as the clock struck midnight the day teams were allowed to make cuts, Shaun Smith was gone. Shortly thereafter word got out that Smith was the one who told everyone about the fight. Strike one for a guy who never found his way onto the field for one of the leagues worst defenses. Mix that in with punching, and injuring the already banged up franchise QB, and reaking sheer chaos in the locker room on the only team that gave you a second chance. I think Smith may be coming to a CFL team near you. I say good for you Shaun Smith. You may be a total retard, with no future in the only thing you are good at, but at least you got to bust Brady Quinn in his pretty little mouth.

We did it!

December 21, 2008

Take that Cleveland! Not only did my Bengals even up the season series against their rivals to the north. But, my personal curse is either been broke, or just gone away for the Holidays. All year long I’ve picked against my favorite team, and rooted for them to fail. Once I switched back, I was expecting the worst. Instead, I got to enjoy sseing them win, and felt the much appreciated gamblers boost when they did win. You had to see it coming. The game was close the first time when the Bengals were using mainly reserve’s, and the Browns had all their starters. This time, each team was using backups, but ours had several weeks of practice under their belts. All everything/Bi-polar nose Tackle Shawn Rogers had just been selected to the Pro Bowl. You had to know that dude was gonna have twice as many penalties as touchdowns. He’s the best defensive player in the league when… He is playing against the Lions, someone calls him out, or he has a contract extension on the line. He’s an asset to his opponent when… He had a huge game the week before, he’s not on national television, or he just got a contract extension/selected to the Pro Bowl. Today he was good for two first downs, when he jumped offsides on 3rd and less than five. Another time he he took a 3rd and long to a manageable 3rd and 3. Throw in the plays he took off, and he was one of the better players for the Bengals. Today the patchwork group of forgotten Bengal Jackasses, were the better team. Apparently the Cleveland coaching staff doesn’t know that when it’s in the single digits, with strong winds, that you should run the ball, and the other team will do the same. Maybe this is why the Cleveland fans want to steal away my beloved coach Cowher. All in all, I’d like to thank the Cleveland Browns for giving me yet one more early Christmas gift.

Going all in

December 20, 2008

As usual, this year I took part in an NFL “survivor” or “suicide” league. The basis of these leagues are simple. Every week you pick one NFL team to win a game. You can only choose each team one time. Every year, I get off to a great start, find myself in the minority of unbeaten players, and then it all goes to shit. Usualy my downfall is directly linked to either picking all the good teams, and being forced to pick the lesser of two shitty teams. Sometimes I get to confident, or too worried, and try to save teams for later in the season, bypassing them in games they are sure to win, and then blow it on picking, the lesser of two shitty teams. This year, I was just plain screwed by the system. I got off to a great start. A good chunk of the competition was eliminated early when teams like Indy went down, or when Dallas lost in St. Louis. I was rolling. By about week 5 I had a clear path to victory. I had still saved all of the teams that are now in first place. I had used up dangerous teams like Miami, and Arizona, and had plans for each week as what middle of the road team I would use. The pick against the Lions or Bengals every week system was going to win me a sizeable chunk of cash. By week 9, I already had decided who I was going to pick in each of the final weeks. Victory would be mine. Week 10, cut the competition to just myself, and one other unbeaten team. Several people had picked the Eagles to beat my Bengals, not knowing that my presence in the Queen city would drive my Bengals to a tie. The only other unbeaten player, had used up most of the good teams, and was certain to go down. Then it happened. Not wanting to get too cocky, I decided to not enter the rest of the weeks picks until the friday of each week. This gave me something to do at work, and gave me a chance to change my mind in case of injuries. Week 11, the NFL, and it’s shitty thursday night games, that nobody gets to watch, took me out. Pittsburgh over Cincy, who had just went an entire overtime a few days earlier, had suspended ocho cinco, and had no carson palmer. It was a no brainer. Except one thing. I hadn’t entered my pick when the game started. And that was that, game over. There was one guy still undefeated. The league is set up so it’s not the last man standing. If everyone has one loss, the winner is whoever was the last person undefeated. This is done so that it isn’t all over after week 3 if everyone goes down early. The final guy lost this past week, giving everey one at least one loss, most people have at least two. There is still an outside chance of me winning it all, but I need a ton of help. I figure that since I have no luck at all, the more logical I am with my final two picks, the harder I’m gonna fall, so I might as well enjoy myself. Right? This week, I’m picking my Bengals. Since it will likely be the last game televised in Columbus, and they have no shot at getting the #1 pick, I’m going all in. I’m going to resume rooting for my favorite team. No more trying to get the coach fired, no more hoping certain lineman, and or running backs get killed during the game, I’m going to root for my Bengals, to beat their hated rivals, in what i consider the last game of the season. My hopes and dreams as a fan all ride on this, shitty, un-watchable game, and any hopes i have at winning a few hundred bucks as well. For the Bengals, it’s a chance to feel like actual NFL players. For many of the guys who joined the team midseason, due to injuries, this is a job interview so to speak. For Marvin, it’s about pride. Neither team has a quarterback, or a running game. Both rosters are filled with dissapointing performers, and back-ups. The way I see it, it all comes down to one man.

Braylon Edwards. At the start of the year, the talk was of the bet Edwards had made with Olympic hero, and the most famous Michigan athlete to never actually attend Michigan, Michael Phelps. The bet was simple. Braylon would have double the ammount of touchdowns as Phelps did gold medals. This will be the motivation for Edwards, and the browns. Braylon only needs 13 more TD’s to double up Phelps, so he’ll need at least 10 this week. If he can score 10 TD’s it’s gonna be tough for the worst offense in the NFL to keep pace. Seeing as how they’ve scored just 10 TD’s the last 10 games, if Braylon can score 10, the Bengals may be in trouble. Only time will tell. Can Edwards put together the best two week stretch in the history of sports? Can The Bengals screw themselves out of another slot in the draft order? Tune in and see.

GFY Toronto!

December 19, 2008

I’ve been forced to put the entire city of Toronto on notice. Last night my Blue Jackets travelled to Dallas, after defeating the best team in the NHL at home, in overtime the night before. Dallas sucks, but whenever you play the second of back to back games on the road, nothing is set in stone. The game went to overtime, 5-5. 13 secs. in, my man manny malhotra broke full speed towards the Dallas net, fired a shot off of their goalie, who was lungng forward. In order to avoid a stoppage of play, manny had to try and dive over the goalie, and out of the way, keeping the play alive for one of his teamates following him up, to finish it. The puck bunced off of manny’s skate, as he was parrallel to the ice, looking nowhere close to the puck. A miracle, it bounced into the back of the net. Goal! Game over, chris can go to sleep happy. As the Blue jackets celebrated, the officials got on the phone to the league office in Toronto, to review the play. This is done whenever a puck is sent into the net by anything but a players stick, and on any goal that is close to not crossing the line. This was a no brainer. The rule says, there must be a distinct kicking motion, to overturn a goal scored off of a players skate. Manny’s feet were moving away from the momentum of his body, game over. No. The shitheads in Toronto screwed the jackets, taking away a win, an extra point, and giving all the momentum to Dallas. The stars basically got a do-over on a game they lost. Sloppy seconds, as some of their former players like to call it. Overtime ended in a fake tie, forcing a shootout. Dallas, at home, more rested, with their first goalie. Columbus, having played the night before, halfway accross the country, and already having won the game once, was using their back-up goalie. We lost it in the shoot-out. That was as shitty of a call as you will find. All I can say is, “Go Fuck Yourself Toronto”

Chris’ 2008 X-mas list

December 18, 2008

Usually every year at thanksgiving, I make my Christmas list. This year, there was no time, and not enough booze. So instead of writing it out for a dozen or so people (whom never buy me anything from the list) I’ve decided to post it on line. This way any strangers out there know what to get me.

1. Bengals “He Hate Me” Jersey

2. Circuit City Gift cards

3. General Motors stock

4. Hunting trip with Dick Cheney, and Plaxico Burress

5. Stephon Marbury’s job

6. To be the guy who opens the door at wal-mart, the day after thanksgiving

7. A hockey stick with a nail in it

8. Casey Anthony’s book on parenting http://z.hubpages.com/u/458035_f520.jpg

9. A Blue Jackets game sweater with jessica Alba inside

10. The money back that I had sent to the Illinois Governor, when he had promised me an “awesome job”.

11. The money back that I sent to England to help that former African President transfer money to the U.S.

12. The money back that I spent on that “miracle enhancement” cream.

13. Real Miracle Enhancement cream

14. Makers Mark Bourbon

15. Corey Patterson to sign a lifetime contract with an iron-clad no trade clause, with any team but the Reds.

16. C.C. Sabathias weight loss video

17. John Daily’s book on marriage.

18. Terrell Owens teambuilding instructional video

19. Middle-eastern throwing shoes

20. Season tickets to the Arena Football League’s Columbus Destroyers

21. Job as a bengals scout

22. Colt McCoy to develop a debilitating case of herpes

23. The Reds to sign a free agent pitcher under the age of 39

24. Make your own Bologna kit

25. Make your own gin kit

26. Bengals playoff tickets

27. A dog named “Beanie”

28. A few favorable loop holes in Ohio’s sex offender registration laws.

29. More roofies

30. A damned casino.

31. A snuggie (as seen on t.v.)

32. Full body speedo swimsuit, like Michael Phelps wore

33. Thong swimsuit

34. Charlie Weis’ swimsuit calendar

35. A pony

When does it start?

December 17, 2008

Quick note: Dylan went back to the ENT surgeon dude today. Still no hot nurses in that office if anyone was wondering. Everything is good to go. Both ears are perfect, and baby boy is as happy as ever. Merry Christmas to us!

On this beautiful central Ohio morning. I awoke to discover that all through the night we were visited by that magical winter-time visitor. Freezing Rain! Apparently this time it was just freezing drizzle, according to whichever homo-weather dude was on my t.v. at o-dark-thirty. What the difference is? Who the hell knows? My guess is, freezing rain makes you fall on your ass within 15 feet of your front door. Freezing drizzle, you make it at least 20 feet before you wipe out. Just plain cold covers that 5 foot buffer zone in between. Since I had parked my truck outside, and have to leave early for a meeting that I had postponed once already, I needed to get moving, and the first step, was to scrape my frozen windows. The best part about freezing rain, is it is actually bulletproof, and can’t be scraped off of vehicle glass without using some type of I.E.D. or saying ‘fuck’ a bunch of times. Lucky for me, I use F-bombs like some people use oxygen. One of my neighbors was also in the midst of scraping, while the neighbor to the other side seemed to be backing out of her garage without a care in the world. Hearing her tires make that screeching noise that spinning rubber on ice makes, was the second sign that today was going to be one big shit pile. I decided that a few minutes late wouldn’t hurt anyone. So I put the defrost on full go, went inside to mellow out, and wait for the laws of science to melt away my ice covered hell. As I sat trying to think of ways to postpone this meeting yet again, my mind began to wonder. When exactly does one fully hate the hell that is a mid-western winter? This year for me, it was ass slapping my bottom two steps after totally under-estimating my traction. It was later reinforced when I was mid-air, deciding which was more important. A $2.00 coffee, or the back of my skull. I chose the coffee, and, am glad I did. I may be selling myself short though? Maybe I decided winter sucks during that 3 minute period when I was hacking away at the layer of solid ice on my windshield like a spider monkey on redbull. Or was it when my finally thawed out window had become so murky with road salt, and brine, and I realized the mechanism that squirts washer fluid, was still froze over. Of course it could have been when I parked at my office, and realized that I could not get from my car to the front door, because the iced-over blacktop sloped away from the building, and mere mortals can’t walk uphill on ice, while carrying coffee, and paperwork.  Yeah winter! Of course tomorrow will be different. The roads will be clear, the ice melted away, and all hope will be restored. I actually do enjoy winter. The cool air in your lungs. The snow covered landscape. The holiday feel we all grew up to know and love. College basketball, hockey, and the promise of spring. A true winter is tough to beat, and I actually do look forward to it every year. Sitting on your ass all day watching bowl games is not the same for people in warm climates. It’s like Porn stars. Do they get exited about the possibility of getting laid, when they do that all day, every day? No. Having to work for it is half the battle. A bright, snow covered winter day is a thing of beauty, and can’t be taken for granted. The bad part is, it seems like one out of every 4 days during the winter, Jack frost reaches up and bites you in the ass. Mother nature bag-tags you just when you think it’s safe. A ski trip, a warm fire, and a bottle of booze, is something I long for every year. Falling on my ass, and doing 180’s in my vehicle I do not. So if anyone else out there had a day like mine. let me know. When did you remember you fucking hate winter?

On a side note. Terminator 3 is on tonight. What the hell ever happened to the hot terminator? How can someone like the hideously deformed and repulsive Maggie Gyllenhal get to be in the batman movie, when that chick is nowhere to be found? Life is unfair. And my Jackets won on an awesome O.T. goal against the best team in the NHL! The run begins now. look out 12th place, here we come!

Regional Dialect

December 16, 2008

Today I had to have a meeting with some turd who was trying to sell me stuff. Nothing too out of the ordinary, some times I even get a free lunch out of these things. Not today. I like to be wined and dined. I want the salesman to make me feel like a lady. Or a dude, who’s getting free shit. This dude did none of that. For the better part of an hour, he just rambled, on and on, about his crappy life, and his crappier products. A total waste of my time. As he chatted away with a co-worker of mine about when he lived in chicago (details I was just dying to hear about), the regional dialect card came in to play, and it sparked my interest. As he was talking about the Chicago highway system, he refferred to his usual route to the office as, the 55. Why is this? Why do folks refer to highways as proper nouns, and not just roads? Around these parts we call Interstate 71, just plain 71, or even I-71. What makes people in other parts of the country refer to all their highways as “the” like it’s a big event, or some huge deal? We say, “take 71 north” they say, “take the 71, all the way to cleveland”. I always just thought it was people out west, putting an article in front of their nouns, to make them feel important, in their shallow, useless lives. I never understood some things about regional dialect. I get that some people say pop, others cola, and for inbread hicks in the south, everything is just a coke. I get that. I get people of rural upbringings will sometimes put unnecessary r’s or remove g’s from certain words like warshington, or swimmin’. I never will get the Highway thing. Call it what it is. Route 30 is either Route 30, new 30, old 30, or just plain damn 30. Not, “the 30″. If you live in Chicago, you either took I-90, or 90, not the 90.

I’ve decided I can no longer tolerate people who talk this way. Life is too short. From now on, anybody who puts a The in front of their highway, is getting  kick to the balls. Now their will be exceptions. For instance, the hershey highway, will still be the hershey highway. Any expressway with an actual the in it can get away. I implore everyone to help me rid the world of this problem.