Wednesday, October 31, 2007

B to the…’s Hottie of the Day

The FA and his wife went out with some friends for Halloween and he directed me to one of their Myspace pages that had some photos. Actually, this isn’t just anyone’s Myspace page, but someone that I’ve held close to my heart (and crotch) for quite some time now. So here you have it, B to the…’s Hottie of the Day!!!

And seriously, K, call me, we should hook up.

(Now I know that she’d never call me even if her car broke down in front of my house. You see, I have this way with women. Either I wow them with my charm and they drop their panties on the spot or they grow this serious disdain for my humor and personality. K falls in the latter category. If only she knew more about my good qualities, for example, my unending stamina in the bedroom (cough, cough), my foot-long wiener (mini hot dog), and my vast experience (with myself)).

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Talk About a Game

Last night the Green Bay Packers played a hell of a game in upsetting the Denver Broncos. There had been some talk of Brett Favre not having the arm strength that he used to but he proved everyone wrong before a nationally televised audience on Monday Night Football. After the Packers defense couldn’t hold the Broncos and their legendary kicker Jason Elam in regulation, Favre came out and rifled a bomb down the sideline to Greg Jennings on the first offensive play in overtime. Way to go Pack. I hope this shuts up some of his critics because they wouldn’t have a team if it wasn’t for him. Come back next year, Brett, you’re good in my book.

And talk about having it good. They provide food during halftime of the Packer games. Usually it’s some Mexican dish from the restaurant next door. Usually it’s pretty damn good although some people complain about it. Hey, free food always tastes better to me, I would never complain. But a couple weeks ago I had mentioned to the head chef how good the little Chinese egg rolls were. So last night he was walking around and asked me if he should put some of them out for the spread. Of course I said yes and tried to keep an eye out for when he brought them out. They tend to go pretty fast and the old vultures in the back are notorious for taking more than they can eat. Just before halftime I felt a tap on my shoulder. There was the head chef with a two foot round tray packed with egg rolls. There had to have been 40 of them. He set it down in front of me, slapped me on the back and walked off. I figured he was going to make some and put them on the buffet table but this was not the case. Everyone was looking at me with jaws open. “Dig in!” I had arms and hands flying in front of me so fast, and then screams of “Ouch, that’s hot!” before I finished saying “in”. Oh, those little suckers were pretty tasty. I ate and ate, probably had about ten before everyone else stopped eating them leaving me three more to try to choke down (of course I did it). Being the thankful patron I took the dish back to the kitchen and thanked the cook many, many times – without getting on my knees or bending over, you sick fucks.

I don’t know if I’m that much fun or that entertaining or if my jokes are that funny or if I’m just a nice guy in general (probably none of the above), but I do my best to keep everyone at the bar happy and entertained. Mr. Head Chef, you made me feel special and very happy. I owe you one buddy.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Fucking Ronald McDonald

The only way I can describe the state that I was in this weekend is, well, pretty freaking loaded, even for me.

Let’s see, Friday… Yeah, I don’t remember too much of Friday. Actually I don’t remember anything from Friday. Seriously, nothing. Must have been damn good.

The Renter started talking to me again on Saturday. It’s not like she really had much of a choice. I’m that fucking entertaining.

Started out down the road where they carried the Big Ten Network. My prediction was correct that the Badgers would play well and pull out a win (by more than 7.5). Not a bad start to the weekend of football.

The Renter got hungry so we swung by McDonalds. I wasn’t on my best behavior. There are now incriminating pictures of me floating around out there of me fucking Ronald McDonald. But he had a smile on his face so he must have liked it.

The next stop was Fun World (yes, that place with all the arcade games). Played some ski ball, some air hockey, and some shooting game. On the way out I fucked the giraffe they had by the door. And bent underneath the elephant’s ass. Yes, there are pictures of that, too.

Ended up at the corner bar for a bit. Someone suggested going to see the movie Saw IV. I really don’t like scary movies but for some reason I kind of like this series. But there was one major problem: I was loaded. I don’t remember a damn thing from the movie. Nothing. Guess I’ll have to go see it again sometime.

I tried to watch the longest regulation baseball game ever but once again I failed. I was loaded.

I think we played pool somewhere during the day but I’m not quite sure. But you’re getting my drift about the weekend so far, right? Uh, it was rough.

Sunday I was just going to lounge around the house and watch some football. Two weekends in a row without a Packer game (they play on Monday night) was pretty painful. A little after 1:00 my doorbell rang. Weird, nobody rings my doorbell. And then I saw them: little people dressed up in cheesy outfits. Damn trick or treaters. Even though I had the TV blaring I hid in the kitchen and didn’t answer the door. Five minutes later the doorbell rang again. By 1:15 I was at the corner bar. The little bastards had effectively driven me out of my house. And they say size matters – bullshit.

The bar was pretty dead except for the bartender and a couple other people. I got to watch the Colts lay the smack down on the Carolina Panthers (yet another good job of picking the right team to back). And then the Patriots absolutely killed the Washington Redskins. I’ve only taken the Patriots once this year. Not that I’ve gone against them ever, but I’ve only taken them once. So when I say “oh, I made this pick and this pick” it’s really all just luck.

I was in bed by 8:30 for my weekly Sunday hibernation. Eleven hours of straight, solid sleep is absolutely awesome after a rough weekend.

But then this morning it started. I woke up just before the alarm went off and noticed it was a little cold in the house. I got up and looked at the thermostat: 59 degrees. You see, I don’t like paying for heat. When I first bought the house back in 2006 I got my first heat bill at the beginning of March. I have a 300 gallon tank in my basement that holds the oil for the furnace. In March they came by and filled it since it was ¾ empty. That cost me $300. That got the heat turned off. Since I was living by myself and I’m a cheap bastard I just flicked the switch to off and never thought about it again. Sure, it was 50 degrees when I’d wake up in the mornings but who cared, I was just leaving to go to work anyway. By 6:00 the sun would heat up the house a bit and even then I was just off to the bar. Then the Renter came along and she wanted some heat so I set it at 55. You know, when I first started writing this I felt a little bad for leaving her at home all day in 59 degrees but hell, that’s 4 degrees more than it was all last winter. She probably danced around in shorts all day long. Actually I kind of doubt that. The Heat Nazi lives on!!!

Saturday, October 27, 2007

How Would You Rate...

I need a little reader feedback here. I know I haven't posted anything really good on here for a while, but based on the average production... how would you rate this blog? On a scale of 1-10. Just curious. I'm sure the wet t-shirt contest photos were a plus for the guys, maybe not so much for the girls (you never know). But do I provide entertaining shit or no?

This is also a post to test the reader's willingest to put up a comment, anonymous or whatever.

9:00 and Still Drunk

Nothing like being awake at 9:00 on a Saturday and still being drunk. I mean fuck, I can't go anywhere, can't drive, just gotta wait till noon or something before I head out to Wal-Mart. So goes the life of a recovering (from last night) alcoholic.

Cal Snoop

I got this email on Friday. I figure it couldn't be spam since it said "Cal Snoop" in it and I know Snoop from California frequents this site from time to time. So, is this the masked maurader? Oh, and the email said I should wear an outfit like this so I could get some good tail. Actually had me thinking for a bit.

The email was: MR. need one of these to help you score some real tail!!

Snoop, if that's you, you've got some serious junk in the trunk. Elephantitise like.

Early Saturday

Why I'm up at 8:00 on a Saturday morning after a very good night of drinking I don't know. But fuck.

My boy Genarlo Wilson should have been released from jail yesterday after doing two years for receiving a blow job from a 15-yr-old when he was 17. Talk about some crazy shit.

Unfortunately this story about young-uns reminds me of something that happened at the corner bar on Wednesday.

I think I’ve mentioned that the corner sports bar is attached to a Mexican restaurant. Lots of Mexican families go there for dinner. Wednesday there were quite a few little kids running around the lobby. After pitcher number two I carefully waded through the tykes and made my way to the bathroom. The bathroom was empty and I stepped up to a urinal. I heard the door open behind me but didn’t think anything of it. Halfway through doing my business I heard the door open again. And then the bathroom was filled with loud screaming. I turned around and saw some little kid about three feet tall running around the bathroom balling his eyes out. I pretty much froze right then. There I was in a ten by ten bathroom with my hand on my penis and a screaming kid running around behind me. I couldn’t do anything but stare straight ahead and finish my business. After what seemed like an eternity the kid’s dad came in to see what was wrong. Oh, and two of the kid’s brothers. I zipped up and turned around to them all huddling around the screaming kid. Turns out the kid got his finger pinched in the door. I made my way around them, washed my hands and left the bathroom.

That scared the shit out of me (well, at least the pee).

Oh, and the Renter still isn't talking to me.

Somebody found this site doing a Google search for "too fat" and "unbuttoned pants." Seriously, I have no response to this. But the posting they found had this in it: I started playing pool around 10:30. By 10:35 the back of the bar by the pool table smelled like, well, just a lot of stinky farts. It was bad, even for me. Walking around the pool table and lining up the next shot and BAM!, you’d run into this wall of stench that filled your nostrils and put stars in your eyes. The Renter refused to play pool with me and called me Mr. McNasty. I passed out from the fumes. Somebody peed on me.

God I used to write well.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007


I have to start watching me some tennis.

The History of the Middle Finger

Well,'s something I never knew before, and now that I know it, I feel compelled to send it on to my more intelligent friends in the hope that they, too, will feel edified. Isn't history more fun when you know something about it? Before the Battle of Agincourt in 1415, the French, anticipating victory over the English, proposed to cut off the middle finger of all captured English soldiers. Without the middle finger it would be impossible to draw the renowned English longbow and therefore they would be incapable of fighting in the future. This famous English longbow was made of the native English Yew tree, and the act of drawing the longbow was known as "plucking the yew" (or "pluck yew"). Much to the bewilderment of the French, the English won a major upset and began mocking the French by waving their middle fingers at the defeated French, saying, see, we can still pluck yew! Since 'pluck yew' is rather difficult to say, the difficult consonant cluster at the beginning has gradually changed to a labiodentals fricative F', and thus the words often used in conjunction with the one-finger-salute! It is also because of the pheasant feathers on the arrows used with the longbow that the symbolic gesture is known as "giving the bird." IT IS STILL AN APPROPRIATE SALUTE TO THE FRENCH TODAY! And yew thought yew knew every plucking thing.

Byron Leftwich

Byron Leftwich is having surgery for his sprained ankle. They say that he should be able to return in two weeks after they put two screws in his ankle. Screw that.

Do you know how many times I’ve sprained my ankles playing basketball? Hell, one bends less than the other because it got jacked up more. But fuck, it’s just a sprain. It will heal over time. I know the NFL season is only 16 weeks long and that every game is important but I don’t understand having surgery for a sprained ankle. But then again I’m not a doctor. You could call me a doctor of love… with oneself.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007


So I yelled at the Renter last night. Not yell like loud or anything, that shit is uncalled for. But certain things have been irking me lately and I don’t really know what to do about it.

The thing is, she’s always there; there being wherever I am. The Packers didn’t play on Sunday so I watched three scary movies on the Sci-fi channel. The Renter was there. At 8:00 I took a shower and went up to the bar. 8:30 she was there. Monday night I went up to the bar at 7:00. 7:30 she was there. I left the bar at 11:00. 11:15 she was back home. It’s getting to the point where I can’t do anything by myself.

It’s been well documented that I’ve been living my lifestyle for quite some time. Yes, I go to the bar every day. Yes, I bought a house 62 steps away for this exact purpose. This has all been planned out very well (if you ask me at least). But the plan was set up for me, not me and my shadow.

Seriously, she knows all the people that I do and yet, even if there are open seats everywhere, she has to sit right next to me. I’ve been chatting with women who abruptly stop talking to me when the angry Asian sits next to me (“angry Asian” is just a reference to the Renter’s makeup, and no, I didn’t coin the term).

People think that we are together. If I leave at 11:00 she leaves at 11:00. It doesn’t matter if its 11:00, 12:00, or 1:00, it’s always at the same time which gives the appearance of togetherness. Not that I’m actively scrounging around for some poon or anything but if I were this would be a major issue. This does not play that much into my frustration.

For some reason she doesn’t like many people at the bar. I’ve taken shit for how this ex-girlfriend or that ex-girlfriend talked her ear off about nothing in particular for three hours when I haven’t been there. I can sit there for hours on end talking to pretty much anyone who walks in the door; heck, even those damn karaoke people. That’s why I go there every single fucking day. Why would you go there if you didn’t like the people?

This all leaves me bound up like Chuck E Cheese. The Renter, while she puts on this show that she’s all tough on the outside, behind the scenes is a different story. I’d ask her to move out but I don’t know where she’d go. Sure, she’d find someplace, but she probably wouldn’t be happy. And I’d be out $400 a month.

So what’s a brother to do? I just want a little space. If I wanted to share my life with a woman I’d get married. Remember, I’m single. That’s the way I want it and that’s the way I want others to see me.

Monday, October 22, 2007


I just couldn’t do it. Usually I’m good with self-discipline. Well, I’m good with self-discipline on most issues.

You might be reading this now and are thinking, “self-discipline from the guy who drinks 20 beers a night without thinking anything of it?” Yeah, well, I choose to drink 20 beers a night. I never said I wanted to cut down or anything so there are no discipline infractions there. God I love my beer.

But lifting weights at night in the basement just ain’t hacking it. Usually I get home from work and the parent’s house around 6:30. I’ll write in the blog for a bit while I eye up the other half of the basement. Before you know it it’s 7:00 and, like tonight, there’s some sporting event on TV that I want to watch at 7:30. So what are my choices: lift weights for a measly 20 minutes and take a shower to catch the show or put it off till tomorrow when I’ll have lots of free time to lift? Lately I’ve been putting it off. And putting it off some more. Then it gets to the point when I can’t remember the last time I lifted. Needless to say, this isn’t the ideal workout structure.

I came across a little cash this weekend. I went to the casino three times, one time against my wishes. Friday I won $200, Saturday afternoon I won $300 and Saturday night, after the non-gambling Renter begged me to go, I lost $400. I’ll never do that again. Just because someone isn’t tired and wants to do something isn’t a reason to go to the casino. I could have been up $500 for the weekend. As it sits I’m only up $100.

After a good weekend of drinking I ended up spending that $100. But that $100 was bonus money; I still had my two week budget in my pocket. So today I decided I’d break down and join the gym again.

I walked in to the gym and was delighted when the college kid behind the desk informed me it would be $57 till the spring semester, $65 if I wanted the towel use (which my sweaty body definitely needs). Halfway through the registration process the gym manager walked around the counter and shook my hand.

Gym Man: Where have you been?

Me: Ah, I thought I could lift weights at home at night but I just can’t do it. I have enough equipment but like tonight there’s MNF on so I won’t be lifting.

Gym Man: Well, it’s good to have you back.

I can’t wait to get started again. After reading too much shit on the internet and screwing around with my workouts I’m going back to the tried and true method that got me to where I was: Tuesday chest, Wednesday back, Thursday shoulders, and Friday arms. And don’t give me shit for not including legs in there; I’m still hobbling around like Dr. Frankenstein’s assistant. At least I don’t look like his assistant – yet.

Saturday, October 20, 2007


Won $300 last night. Woke up this morning and had a fit because I lost my cigarettes and lighter. Yeah, I'm not normal.

Got a bit on Northern Illinois today. They usually play the Badgers pretty well. Oh, and I'm getting 23 points.

You know how you go to the dentist and they give you the free toothbrushes that you leave in your car for six months because you don't need a new one? Well, I dropped mine in the toilet yesterday and I can't find a toothbrush for the life of me.

Missing Something in Life

I’m usually content with everything that happens in my life. I have delicately crafted my environment and lifestyle to give me a steady and stable base to stand on. Without this base I’d be a wreck. I’ve seen what happens to people who aren’t stable and I didn’t want that to happen to me.

For starters, I have a good job. I love my job as much as anyone can love their job (although I must say those porn guys have it pretty good).

I live cheaply. I don’t just go out and buy shit that I don’t need with the 61” TV being a huge exception. My Wrangler is paid off and I have no plans of getting rid of it. I haven’t really taken a vacation in two years. I recently paid $30 for a pair of Adidas.

Living cheaply allows me to spend $25 a day at the corner bar (God that’s $9,000 a year – fuck). This, my friends, gives me great pleasure. I’d be lying to you if I said it was mostly the atmosphere that gives me pleasure because come on, I love my beer. Hell, I’ve actually broken up with girlfriends in the past over beer. You have to keep your priorities straight. Since I like everything stable and constant, what’s more stable, some broad who takes it in the ass or a nice cold pitcher of Miller Lite? Yeah, I don’t need any drama in my life. But some wild anal sex every once in a while wouldn’t hurt.

But something still seems to be missing. One might point out that I don’t have a significant person in my life. You’ve read this blog, am I really marriage material? And not to brag or anything, but I’ve been good with my money over the years. I don’t plan on giving half of it away.

My family life is as good as it can be considering my sister is four hours away and my parents don’t talk to each other. Hey, I still get dinner at night and bag lunches packed for the next day. I consider that to be a good family life but then again I value food pretty highly.

My house is, well, my house. It’s stable. It’s not exactly clean or anything – some nooks and crannies are downright disgusting – but cleaning sucks. Cleaning ranks right up there with eating pussy, two big no-no’s. I have the deck to enjoy on sunny days and the grill to cook my meat on. While my house isn’t huge or fancy it works pretty well for me. And its 63 steps from the corner bar. Hell, that’s the main reason why I bought it.

Maybe it’s the whole stability thing that leaves me wanting more. Yeah, that’s not it. Knowing you have beer in the fridge, Southern Comfort in the cabinet, frozen pizza in the freezer, and enough money to go out drinking every day is pretty comforting.

Wait a minute, I think I’ve got it. The thing that’s missing from my life is not apparent to the naked eye. Sure, you could observe my daily routine and name a dozen things that most people have that I don’t but that would just be your opinion. It might be right, it might be wrong, but it wouldn’t be the thing that’s truly missing in my life. So ok, are you ready for it? Are you sure?

My left ACL.

I went to the doctor’s office for a follow up visit for the cartilage tear surgery. I sat down, showed her how much I could bend the knee, and assured her everything felt fine. Then she brought out some photos that were taken during the surgery. I had never seen anything like this before and was amazed at the clarity and quality of the pictures. She showed me where the cartilage tear was and how she cleaned it up. And then she flipped to the last picture.

“This is the front of your knee. See this space right here? This is where your ACL should be.”

Huh? Should be?

I guess back in 2001 when I flipped my truck over, besides the broken leg and ruptured spleen and kidney, I tore my ACL. Nobody had ever told me this. I was just under the assumption that my knee was weak due to the rod they stuck in my leg or the MCL surgery I had at the same time. Nope, yours truly has been walking on three ligaments for the past six years. Not only walking but jogging and lifting weights. Well, I guess that’s all going to come to a stop now that I know my ACL is gone. I never did like jogging that much anyway.

The doctor said the procedure for the ACL surgery is much more complex than what I just had done. They take a ligament from a different part of your body and sew it in where your ACL should be. Crutches for three months, no sports for nine, fuck that. I figure if I’ve made it six years without it I can make it another six till I keel over at the ripe old age of 36. Now I have an excuse to not go jogging or do squats.

I think I’m starting to run out of body parts that you can live without when they’ve been removed. Let’s just hope the next one is a pinky toe and not my penis.


I got the call at 3:00. It was the Renter. At least it sounded like the Renter. There was a squeaky scratchy voice on the other end of the line.

“They won’t let me leave till I… (something, something). They want me to stay here till Friday.”

Wow, that sucks. No one wants to be in a hospital that long, especially for what you thought was a day surgery.

So I finished what ended up being a three hour marathon weight lifting session (actual lifting time – 30 minutes), took a shower and headed up to the bar. I knew my good friend bartender was working and I figured I’d chill with him for a bit. To my joy the bar was empty except for the bartender and the manager. We sat and chatted for quite some time before anyone else walked in the door. And then my phone rang.

“Can you come get me?”

“Huh? You said Friday.”

“No, I said 5:30.”


By this time I was two pitchers in. I don’t drive after having anything to drink. Someone had some issues back when he was younger. Not like I don’t have any now.

“So can you come get me?”

“Ah, no, not really.”

The Renter hung up on me and called her friend crying because she didn’t have a ride (women cry way too much). Five minutes later my buddy Jeff walked in the bar. Jeff said he’d drive me over to the hospital. I tried calling the Renter but she didn’t have her cell phone on. Then the bar phone rang and it was the Renter. Who calls a bar looking for a ride? Anyway, the bartender told her we’d be over in five minutes. We left, picked her up, threw her in bed and went back to the bar.

(Jeff, if you’re reading this, thanks again.)

The Renter was in pretty bad shape. I’m guessing she had her surgery at 1:00 and by 6:30 she was still wobbly as hell. I don’t know what’s all involved with going under but it must affect everyone differently. When I had my surgery I went under at 8:00 and by 11:30 I was hobbling around and downing two double cheeseburgers from McD’s.

And now everyone thinks I’m an ass because I was drinking and couldn’t pick her up when I fully believed she said Friday. Damn oriental people and their fwied wice and shit.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

No Sports

Not a damn thing on TV for sports tonight. What's a brother to do?

The Renter's Turn

So I just dropped the Renter off at the hospital for her tonsil surgery. She's never had surgery before so she was pretty nervous. Pretty nervous is putting it lightly. She didn't say a word on the drive there. I was surprised when she didn't explode when there wasn't a single spot open in the first parking structure I tried. I had to go to the roof top of the second structure before I found a spot. Since I could tell she was nervous I tried doing what I always do when I'm nervous: tell bad jokes.

"See that dry erase board on the wall? When they can't revive you they just draw a line through your name, kind of like a flat line."


"I was just kidding about the line thing. They just erase your name like it never happened."

Yeah, I don't think I helped much.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

NFL Cheer TV

I still think they need a channel dedicated to sideline coverage of NFL cheerleaders. I’d watch.

Oh, and any cheerleaders who might happen to stumble upon this website, I showered this morning, first time since I had knee surgery. I’m ready for you.

Email: Halloween Party

The FA sent out this email about a Halloween party he plans on hosting:

What to Bring: If you're not happy with beer, something to drink
What to Wear: A costume of some sort unless you feel you feel that your general appearance already qualifies you as wearing a costume. It will be assumed as such if you don't wear one! Additional Info: If you're female and short on a costume idea, we'll be keeping the pole up. Hopefully that helps you decide ;)

To which someone replied:

What about some guys that might need and Idea. do we get to use the pole too? Im kind of short on cash!

To which the Renter replied:

keeping the pole up and giving us ladies ideas for a costume. what kind of party are you trying to have? Looks like you are just looking for women in slut/whore gear.
guys with no ideas for a costume--come as a drag queen--go thru your girlfriends closet and go wild. we all can come in slut/whore gear. will be some
party! Lol

All of these emails used the “reply all” method of response. And then the FA started getting the hate mail. The first one I saw was from the FA’s wife’s brother who’s an aspiring rock band lead singer. “Please remove me from this list.” Uh, rock star? I always thought he was light on his feet anyway.

And then this morning I got another one from the FA:

Rule of thumb: If you don’t know “everyone” on a link. Don’t hit reply to all, especially if you choose to use offensive comments. A lot of people only use one email for work and play, and also have big brother looking over shoulder…

To which I had to reply:

Geez, just because the "Rock Starr" brother in law has a little hissy fit. I always thought he was leaning to that side.
And then the truth came out:

It wasn’t him. I had 3 or 4 people that complained after your renter threw around “sl*t” and “wh*r*” so loosely. That’s what tripped off all the sensors. Would you have wanted that going to your other email account? Then when anyone else replied to all those words kept getting flagged because they were in the text from before. Everything else with you, Karl, and T.J. was fine…

Ha, I knew it, the Renter was at the bottom on this.


So yeah, I went back to work on Monday. Goodness gracious, I couldn’t take another day sitting at home with crap on TV. At first I figured I’d sit at home the whole weekend recovering but after two days I was ready to get out. Get out and have some beers!

Since I was somewhat hobbled I had to monitor the drinking just a bit. For example, on Thursday I only had 16 beers compared to the usual 24. Quite an accomplishment if you ask me.

But after Thursday the knee started to feel better, and I started to get bolder. Before you knew it I was back to staggering home looking like the scarecrow from that “there’s no place like home” movie. I can’t remember the name of any movie that was redone in Technicolor.

By Sunday I was back in professional form for the noon Packer’s game. Oh, that was a good day. “In bed” by 8:00, good twelve hours of sleep. Nice.

The only thing that’s really new this week is that I’m driving Pop’s Grand Cherokee to work. The knee, while it’s doing well, isn’t well enough to push in the clutch on my car. At first I wasn’t really thrilled about this. I still remember the day back in 1996 that we picked it up brand new from the dealership. Now it has over 200,000 miles on it. So here I am, Pimp Master B, going from a Jeep Wrangler with under 20,000 miles and fat ass tires to some grandfather Grand Cherokee that’s seen better days. But you know what? It really ain’t all that bad. Back in 1996 dad had a Cadillac with the big V8 in it. Somehow dad’s 19 yr-old son convinced him that he should get the V8 in the Jeep since he was used to having one in the Cadillac. After three minutes of thought dad agreed, probably the biggest reason why the vehicle is still on the road today. And the fucker still has power. Not power like the FA gunning his V6 Mustang after watching The Fast and the Furious. We’re talking power like holy fuck I didn’t mean to do that power. The first day I drove it I put my foot down and was promptly planted in the back of the seat to the point where my fingers were barely touching the wheel (seat all the way back with the knee). Today it’s Tuesday and I’m starting to get the hang of it. In the Wrangler I used to feel every bump. Hell, I knew every bump on the way to/from work and would avoid them. Pop’s Grand Cherokee glides over everything with a dull thud. But along with this comes another evil: speeding. I swear that car will not do anything less than 40 miles an hour. With my car I know how fast I’m going without even looking at the speedometer. Third gear with this much gas and this much engine noise is 30 miles per hour. You just get used to it with a stick. But with the automatic and the V8, fuck, I think I spend more time checking the speed than I do watching the road (kind of like a woman only it’s the speedometer and not the makeup mirror – aka rear view mirror). I’m getting the hang of it and hopefully by this weekend I’ll be able to drive mine again. I’ve been flexing my knee in preparation for it; flexing my knee at the corner bar while watching football. It’s amazing how much I can bend it after a pitcher or two.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Just Weird

Pops dropped off his Grand Cherokee today since it isn't stick shift. Going from a Wrangler with big tires to a 200,000 mile Cherokee, just wrong. But I'm thankfull.

Friday, October 12, 2007


My buddy Joe sent me these photos. Kept me busy for a while. But then at the end of his email he had one of those "send this to ten guys" thing that made it totally gay. Nice pictures though.


And in case you feel like commenting today, you will have near instantanious approval of your comment as I have nothing better to do than hit refresh on my hotmail account.

Florida State/Wake Forest

Did anyone see that Florida State/Wake Forest game last night? I've never seen worse officiating in my life, all in the first two minutes of the game. Florida State punted, one of their guys got blocked in the back (flag), it hit their player and then bounced off a Wake Forest player, Forida State recovered (even though it was technically down when it hit their player), after a fifteen minute official review they called the penalty on Florida State, counted off ten yards and gave them the ball on their 40 when it should have been Wake Forest's ball on their 30 after the ten yard penalty. (that was a long sentence, can we say "run on"?) I didn't have any moola on the game but still, pretty ugly.

Feed the Squirrels

I have a squirrel who's nesting in my black walnut tree. He/she hopped on my deck this morning when I was having my coffee and cigarette. All was cool till it got within six feet of me. With the knee I'm as helpless as a one year old. I started to panic just a bit but it ran off. I put some sunflower seeds out on the deck for it. Should keep it busy for a couple of hours.

Gotta Call This One Out

Someone from The Moody Bible Institute was on this site and checked out the 2007 Hooters Swimsuit Pageant photos. Seriously.

I Hereby Do Declare...

The Renter knows her fried eggs. Not scrambled eggs, not omletts, but fried eggs she can do. I was kidding around today and told her to make me eggs and she did, all before she had to leave for work. I felt bad at first, until I tasted the eggs. And then I wanted more. So thank you, Renter, for the delicious breakfast.

And I'm still bored as hell, you'll probably get a bunch of boring posts again today.

Thursday, October 11, 2007


If I have to watch another commercial for the birth control YAZ I think I'm going to puke. Or pop one of these pain pills.

ACL Tear

I'm not a doctor or anything, but if you're going in for a cartilage tear and they find a tear in your ACL can't they fix them both at the same time? Like I want to go through all this again.


And yes I'm bored so you will probably be getting more boring posts like the last one. Just be happy that I'm thinking about all of you.

October 11th

8:37 am - #1 (do I have to spell it out for you?)

Did you know VH1 and MTV actually play videos early in the morning? I've seen Bon Jovi, Bruce Springsteen, Common, and Kanye West so far. Yeah baby, I'm jamming.

How about a couple emails from the 40 yr-old from the gym who just happened to email me after I had the knee surgery yesterday?

40 yr-old: Hey B to the...! How have you been?

Me: Funny getting your email today. I was thinking about going back to the gym. It's too tempting to not lift weights at home. But... I just had surgery to repair a cartilage tear in my already messed up knee. Those stairs going to the locker room and then up to the gym would kill me right now. Surprisingly I can walk without crutches and I've been told I should have full range of motion in six weeks so we'll see. Has it been busy in there?

Other than that I've been doing aok. Not much really new. I broke down and bought a 61" TV a couple weeks ago so at least I have that to watch while I'm laid up.

Oh, and still single, as always.

And how you doin'?

40 yr-old: Morning!

How did you tear your knee up? Ouch! Sounds like you're recovering rather well...all that working out paid off!

Well, if you decide to return it would be great to have you back, I miss your sense of humor. :) Students (or as you call them, eye candy) have returned so the place has picked up some, but not to a point of craziness. Mike still takes jabs at everyone...he's funny.

You "broke down and bought a 61" t.v." LOL That is quite a break down....Now the po-x-n videos will be like life size! LOL

I'm doin okay. Work responsibilities are increasing, which is very cool. Should equate to bigger raises.

Still single????? What is up with that??? You are such a cutie and fun to hang with, I find that so hard to believe! Jeez, If I were five years younger I'd be making the moves on you boy...

[Seriously, five years? She could outlast me by far in the bedroom. Unless she's talking about five years of maturity, in which case we're actually fifteen years apart.]

Me: Hmmm, what does five years have to do with anything?

Yeah, the 61", started drinking one Saturday at 1:00 and by 11:00 am the next day they were delivering it. Just in time for the Packer game! But it was totally unplanned. No research or anything. Walked in, found a pretty one, checked out the price tag, went down the line and found a cheaper pretty one and signed on the dotted line. Some of those things are expensive as hell.

Bigger raises are always good. Size matters, right?

Today is October 11th, I'm guessing I'll be doing stairs ok by the end of November and you should be able to sign up right when the fall classes end you'd think. I'll have to look into that. I was doing well at home but then the Brewers were doing well and I got wrapped up in that. Oh well.

What's up with this weather?

Hey, the doctor said I can't shower till Saturday. I wonder if I can get a sponge bath out of the gym lady. Hmmm, I'll have to work on that. But seriously, Saturday? My junk smells so bad already that even I don't want to play with it.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Hospitals Scare Me - Thoughts and Prayers

I went to the hospital on Monday for some pre-surgery tests. As you know I really don’t like hospitals and going to one I’ve never been to made matters even worse. First I got lost. They had little maps of the hospital by the elevators but I swear they were drawn by a woman because even with my engineering/architectural background I couldn’t figure out where the fuck to go. I had to kindly ask a member of the cleaning crew where to go and she politely showed me the way. Just a minor hitch so far.

They showed me to a room where this gigantic black woman took my vitals. I mean huge, like a good 300. I started some light banter with her and had her laughing in no time. Unfortunately the light banter was more for my benefit than hers; I’m like Chandler from Friends and I make pathetic jokes when I’m nervous. And boy was I nervous. She took my blood pressure three times. Normally the healthiest man to walk (hobble) into the hospital, today I was showing a sign of high blood pressure. And my temperature was over 100 degrees. Eventually all the readings got down to an acceptable level and she went to go get the doctor.

I heard a knock at the door. You know I like to make racial jokes and everything on this website but that’s all they are, jokes. Who walks in but this young Indian woman with a huge zit right in the middle of the forehead. I swear I had to check it out several times to make sure it wasn’t some religious symbol or something but no, it was a zit. She went through the usual questions about family history and any past surgeries. After 20 minutes we were done and I was free to go. As I got up off the paper covered examination table I noticed wet marks where I had been sitting. I had sweat through my Dockers and left two damp lines on the paper. I quickly turned around and examined the back of my pants and to my relief they appeared ok. I left the hospital, hopped in my car and lit a cigarette pronto.

Today I had the surgery. I got up at 5:00 am (yuk), got to the hospital at 6:00, and went under the knife at 8:00. To my surprise I was awake (kind of) at 9:30. I was out of the recovery room at 10:30 and on the phone to Pops at 11:00. I didn’t have much pain right away due to the local anesthesia they put on it (in it?) during the surgery. Pops arrived, I picked up my Vikes at the pharmacy and was wheeled out. We swung by Kmart and bought a DVD player since the Renter’s just took a shitter and picked up some subs. The nurse said I should be careful with eating after being put under but Mr. Chicken Wing was starving.

And now I sit here. I don’t think I’ve written it on here but I’ve given the Renter shit for watching shit on the new TV. I mean, come on, it’s my TV, it’s fucking big so it has to cost more to run, the bulb is expensive and has a shelf life, and I can set up her TV so she can watch Rock of Love. But today, fuck, I watched shit. There ain’t much on TV at 2:00 in the afternoon. Around 3:30 some sports shows came on ESPN and I’ve watched two hours of that so far. Damn I’m bored. I wouldn’t write a boring post if I wasn’t.

Eight hours after the surgery and I still really don’t have that much pain. I can hobble on it without the use of crutches pretty much like I could before. I’ve had ice on it the whole time but I really don’t see any use for any pain killers at this point. Which is good; I don’t like taking stuff like that, not even Tylenol. But you should see how many sunflower seeds I’ve gone through. The Renter called and asked if I needed anything. Just sunflower seeds, just the seeds.

I thank you all for your thoughts and prayers at this time. Specifically your thoughts and prayers for my poor penis as I have a brand new DVD player and 15 porns that the Renter bought me last March. I hope the little guy makes it out alive.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

2007 Hooters Swimsuit Pageant

If you haven't checked the 2007 Hooters Swimsuit Pageant photos yet you're really missing out. I hope to beat it to every one of them while I'm laid up with the knee. Wish me luck.

Hudgens Again...

Somebody please show this girl how to hold a bowling ball. Seriously, your naked photos are on the internet and you got shot holding the ball with your first two fingers? That reminds me, I have to work on getting my naked photos on the internet one of these days...


I was browsing the halloween ads today for costumes. Damn it, you got me, I was just looking for women with fake hooters dressed in some slutty outfits. So, which would you take, Angel #1or Angel #2?
Yeah, that's what I figured. But for me, an angel isn't going to do it. Since I'm going under the knife Wednesday morning, I figure I'll be needing one of these.


Usually when you come to this site you know what to expect. It’s usually either some story about me whacking off or getting drunk or falling down or whacking off while getting drunk and falling down suffering life threatening penile injuries. Seriously, there isn’t much to me besides the animalistic need to fondle my junk and chug a beer. Lately I’ve had this tourettes-like reaction where I yell “titties” every time there are boobs on the TV. Every time. 30 second commercial for Miller Lite = 5 shouts of “titties” with each one getting progressively louder. But come on, you can’t blame me; large pushed up titties on TV deserved to be recognized.

Which brings me to today’s topic – recognition. First, let me introduce you to the FA (financial advisor). FA, can you wave to everyone? Yeah, he’s that goofy guy in the back with that funny grin. FA’s wife, can you please stand and wave to everyone also? No shit, I wondered how he landed her too; dude must go down on chicks or something.

So I got my statements from the FA’s company last night. I’ve been keeping tabs on the market lately and I knew it had jumped quite a bit in the past month so I was eager to open them. I ripped open the envelope. I yelled (more like shrieked). I crapped my pants (and I wish I was kidding on this one). I ran to the bathroom laughing all the way because the numbers were impressive and now I had another shitting-my-pants story to put in the blog. I know how much you guys like those.

Anyone’s retirement strategy should be to earn more money off your investments than you spend so you continually build on your assets. Well my friends, my investments earned more than I spent last month. Fuck, my investments earned more than I did going to work every day. Unfortunately I’m only 30 and can’t rely on the market to do that every month. Good thing too; I don’t think my penis could take all the free time.

We’re talking over 5% here. In one month. FA, if you were here right now I’d kiss you, tongue even.

Wait, the DOW went up 7.2% and the NASDAQ went up 7.6%. FA, you suck! You owe me a 5’3” Asian hooker!

(I can just see the look on his face now. After getting all that praise at the beginning to getting slammed in front of a national audience – priceless!)

To be honest, I was quite impressed with the results and always have been with the FA’s advice. While I didn’t make 7% last month like the indexes did I won’t lose 7% if the market goes back down. My port is pretty stable – something has to be in my life, might as well be it. The FA knows what he’s doing and I appreciate his services.

But I’m not letting him off on the hooker. On second thought, let’s go with a Puerto Rican.

Which brings me to another story. Last Saturday my dad and sister came over in the morning. Dad mowed the lawn and we sat down and watched the Badger game. The game was at 11:00 and they ended up leaving around 3:30. After being cooped up for four and a half hours I needed to get out. And the corner bar wasn’t open yet.

I convinced the Renter to drive to the old Sunday free pool bar. Since we bought the new pool sticks from Wal-Mart we’ve been playing pool more often. The results are still the same (with me kicking her ass), but I think she just likes prancing around with her pink pool stick.

After a while a guy named Mark came in and he and I played eight or so games. We pretty much split the games which was surprising. I don’t think I ever sobered up on Saturday and by pitcher number three I was starting to fade. We took a break so Mark could eat his burger. And then it happened.

“Are you Kent?”

“Nope.” I shook my head no and turned around to see the hottest little Asian girl I have ever seen. 5’3”, maybe 100 lbs (probably less), and cute as a button. She was there for some modeling promotion they were running in the back room. She was wearing a tight tank top and a short mini skirt with high heels. Trust me, if she was offering I was paying, big time. She walked away and eventually found Kent.

For the next hour Mark and I yelled back and forth, “My name’s Kent!”

Cute little Asian girl who was looking for Kent: you have posed and danced in my dreams for three nights now. Please don’t be a stranger. My name’s B to the… but you can call me Kent if that turns you on. I can provide shelter and all the rice you want. I might even be able to scrounge up a cat or two from the neighborhood.

Monday, October 08, 2007

Blockbuster Coupon

The FA’s wife sent me this bogus ass coupon for Blockbuster. I sent her the following email.

Come on, get your facts straight before sending something like this out! I only have 24 hours in a day, 8 of which I'm sleeping. That only leaves 16 hours during which I can play with my penis. Now that I have spent 45 minutes driving to Blockbuster only to have the clerk laugh in my face about this fake coupon, well, the way I see it you owe me 45 minutes of play time. Noting the fact that you are married to the man who has access to a lot of my money I suggest we work out some other form of repayment. How about your cousin Katie? You know how she sneers and spits and glares at me every time I see her? Well, that's love, true love baby. Those looks she gives me are just for show. Deep down inside she has a soft spot for me. And I have a hard spot for her. I know I bought the house that she was looking at buying but I think she's forgiven me for that by now. But if you think about it we'd be the perfect match. Seriously, just think about it: I'm having knee surgery, she's a nurse. Dat-da-da-dah!!! Booyah!!! A match made in heaven. I mean, besides strippers and hookers, who sees more penises in their professional line of work? You'd think she'd pretty much know what to do with it. And unlike that black hooker that left me bruised, battered, and beaten (all with a smile on my face), Katie would know how to nurture, caress, and provide for me in my time of need.

I don't like breaking legs or punching women, but there's a debt to be repaid here. Please be prompt in making these arrangements. And tell Katie to bring lube, we're going to need a lot of it.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Somebody Reads This Blog!!!

Well no, not really, maybe but I doubt it. Maybe I should have gift bags and contests and prizes or something. Or I could give out free condoms (unused of course).

But I did get a phone call today from someone who actually wanted to use my penis. Yeah, I too had to read that twice after I wrote it. After I put the last post out there I figured I’d get at least a couple hundred emails from women who wanted to do me (yeah right). Emails with hot and steamy photos attached (even more far fetched). This stupid blog will never get me laid and more than likely will prevent me from getting laid. Good thing I have porn.

Around 3:00 today I got an email from an ex-coworker. It was one of those hey, how are you kind of emails and I didn’t think much of it. 3:05 my phone rang. You know someone’s pretty damn anxious if they can’t wait five minutes for a response to their email.

Yeah, like with most of my ex-coworkers, we used to do it. I shouldn’t say most of my ex-coworkers; it was only six, seven if you count the woman who put my hand on her breast in the stairwell. Talk about making my hand look small. Some of them I actually dated while others were just for fun. I believe only one of them was married. And as you can guess, none of them ended too well. (Uh, I had to pass one of them every time I had to use the bathroom, that one sucked – but she was hot.) This was all back in my younger and dumber days. But two of them have managed to acquire my number and email address as I have changed jobs and moved – two satisfied customers.

The phone conversation started out slow. I could tell she was testing the water. And then BLAM, the words dry spell and therapy and a woman has her needs came out all in the same sentence. This actually sent me backpedaling for a bit. It’s not every day that a woman calls me up looking for sex (but God that would be great). I didn’t know what to say. If you know me, you can probably guess what happened next.

Think you’ve got it?

Yeah, I declined (fucking pussy).

I don’t know why I declined. I made up some bullshit about having to lift weights (true) and do laundry (did it last night) and that I already had other plans tonight (complete bullshit). I could feel the disappointment in her tone after that. We ended the conversation that we’d put it off for another time.

Man, I turned down sex.

I’m ok, really. I still have the $10 co-pay ball handling/annual checkup coming up in November. Maybe. She wanted me to not drink for 10 days and redo some blood work. That was last November. I might have not drank for 10 days total in that time span. Yeah, I’m kicking the bucket at 40.

Packers Vs. Bears?

How are the Packers 3 point favorites at home against the 1-3 Chicago Bears? Granted the Packers aren’t a super power like the Colts or the Patriots but they’re still 4-0 and playing a team that just swapped one bad QB for another bad QB. I usually don’t like betting on the Packers (home team and all) and if I did it would probably be for $20 or so, but since it’s the late game… CATCH UP BET TIME!!! I’ll be going with the green and gold, baby.

In other news, Stifler is 31 today. Happy birthday Stiff Meister.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

FA - Coming Out of Closet?

Just click on the comment.

Update on the MRI

Since the NFL season is upon us it only seems fitting that the MRI results came back the way they did: inconclusive. I got a call from the doctor’s office today. I guess the radiologist thought it was a cartilage tear and my doctor thought it was the ACL. They’re going to go over it together and call me tomorrow (Wednesday). Either way I don’t think it looks good. The knee doesn’t hurt much anymore and the swelling has gone down but I don’t think either one of those injuries will heal on its own. I’m just hoping that if surgery is necessary that I’ll be off of crutches by the time the snow starts to fall. I’ve done that before, not fun.

What’s up with the New England Patriots? They only scored 34 points last night after scoring 38 in each of their first three games. Not that it mattered; they still won and covered the 8 point spread. I started the day up $6, ended the day up $11. Yeah, I laid the lumber on the Pats.

Sitting at the bar last night the Renter asked me what I was going to get her for her birthday. Boy, wrong question to ask me. I look at birthdays like I do Valentine’s Day: fuck ‘em. I don’t ask for or expect anything from anyone for my birthdays. It’s just another day for me, nothing special about them. I bought her breakfast but she’s lucky she got that. And I was hungry and needed a ride. Worked out nicely.

I wish I had some good, nasty stories for you but life on the corner has been pretty tame lately. Which isn’t a bad thing at all, kind of nice for a change. I haven’t been to the casino since the spending spree where I bought enough toilet paper to last me for three months. I haven’t puked or crapped my pants or peed in the kitchen sink in quite some time. I think I might be house trained now. Hell, the Renter’s DVD player hasn’t been working so I haven’t even whacked off in who knows how long (oh God, I do remember, twice last Thursday, it’s been four days now). Ladies, any takers to help me out? Seriously, get your emails in quickly, first cum first served. Anyone? Hello?

(Email must not be working.)

Anyway, tonight is weights and wash. I have a big ass pile of clothes in my room and I haven’t touched a weight since last Thursday. While I’ll be limited in the exercises I can do with the knee and all I still need to do something in order to keep my feminine figure intact. God I’d be an ugly woman, 6’5” and 230 lbs. Fuck.

But, sadly, I think I am picking up some feminine qualities. A week and a half ago I bought a 61” TV. I bought underwear and tp and deodorant and razors the same day. You’d think I’d be sick of the shopping thing. But then the unexpected came in the mail yesterday: 30% off coupon at Kohls. Besides the daily necessities that I buy at Walmart, Kohls is the only place I shop for clothes. Kohls is the only place where I can find jeans that are actually long enough for my chicken legs. Every day at work I’m wearing 100% Kohls clothes. I could use some new socks, shirts and pants for work. I could use some new jeans but there’s just one problem: the waist. My waist has been going down lately and I don’t know if it will keep doing that or what; kind of has a mind of its own. Unlike my stretch fit old man pants that I wear for work, jeans don’t stretch. And my ass was getting bigger (muscular) from doing squats but now that the status of the knee is up in the air I’m sure my ass will go back down to normal. Fuck, listen to me bitch, whine, and moan. I’m turning into a woman.

But I’m going shopping for 30% off!!! Wee!!!

Bets and the G-men

Oh, Jenna Jameson. Oh, Jenna Jameson. Oh, oh, oh…

[Ready? Action!]

[Lights go on.]


Welcome back ladies and gentlemen for yet another exciting episode here on The Gravitation to the Corner Bar. [Cheers, applause.] Yes, yes, thank you, thank you very much. In today’s show we are going to cover a topic that I firmly believe in and practice on an all too often basis. The topic for today is the catch up bet.

The catch up bet occurs when your weekend bets on college and pro football totally suck donkey dick. Worse yet, Afghan donkey dick.

My weekend started with West Virginia losing to South Florida. Who? Yeah, that’s exactly what I said till I found out that South Florida was ranked. Whatever, I can let one game slide. Saturday afternoon I watched highlights of Penn State losing to Illinois. Since when did Illinois have a football team? And then the Ducks of Oregon lost to the Bears of Cal. After watching Oregon tear apart Michigan I figured they could beat even a good PAC 10 team. Nope. Fuck, down $88.

Sunday didn’t fare much better. First the Jets lost to the winless Buffalo Bills. Then the Atlanta game went over the total (who knew Joey Harrington could throw TD passes?). In the afternoon games I had Seattle (winner!) and Pittsburgh (loser). I was up $40 from the previous weekend but after this weekend’s slaughter (1-7) I was down $94. Tired, dejected, and drunk, I did what any true gambler does in these situations: the catch up bet.

I mulled over the Eagles/Giants game for the good part of an hour. The Eagles had just had an outstanding game against the Detroit Lions but their starting running back was out. The Giants were coming off a second half rally against a decent Washington Redskins team. I was torn between the two teams. But then I started thinking; there were a lot of home dogs that had won outright and the Giants were a three point home dog. In the end the time of possession for the decision was Eagles 55 minutes, Giants 5 minutes, with the Giants claiming the final 5 minutes. I took the G-men for a hundo.

After sitting at the bar from 11:30 to 7:00 I was pretty much beered out so I packed up my shit and headed home. To my giddy delight I found the game on one of the funky digital channels way up in the hundreds. The game came in bright, crisp, and clear. Yeah, it was good.

The Giants played a damn good game. Towards the end I started feeling sorry for Eagle’s quarterback McNabb as he was sacked 11 or 12 times. I was surprised he could still walk after the game with his surgically repaired knee and all. But the Giants won and I was a happy camper. Instead of being down $204 I was up $6. Just a little bit of a swing there.

(During the game my doorbell rang. It was pretty weird because nobody rings my doorbell and certainly not at 9:00 at night. Turns out it was one of the next door neighbors. Early on Saturday I had stopped one of his friends to find out who owned the grey Mercury that’s usually parked on the street. At first his friend was like “What Mercury?” till I told him I saw another neighbor back into his door and drive off on Friday morning. Good thing for that early MRI appointment otherwise I still would have been sleeping. So I gave the guy a pen and paper since I was pretty much done by that point, gave him my info and wished him good luck. I guess the broad who backed into his car was denying it all.)

(And then the Renter’s car almost took one on Saturday, parked in the same spot as the neighbor’s on Friday. Some broad in a full size pickup was backing up while talking on her cell phone. Pops and I couldn’t believe that the Renter’s car didn’t get hit. I had started to walk over just incase the woman decided to drive just like the one on Friday. You won’t find me parking my car there ever again.)

All in all it was a good weekend. Pops and I fixed the rotten boards that were falling off the garage on Saturday and watched a close Badger game. I got shit loads of sleep after getting shit faced early on Saturday and Sunday. And we had good weather in the mid 60’s. Couldn’t have asked for much more.

Oh, and the FA did some research on the TV bulb. After 10 minutes on the phone he too agreed that I should conserve the bulb so BOOYAH!!! (Although he did mention that I’m a dick and an ass but I can live with that.)