Friday, June 27, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Road Rage
A guy in a Lexus cut me off the other day because he didn't want to be stuck behind a bus at a stop light. Would it be considered road rage if I had gotten out of my car, tapped on his window and called him a dill weed? No bad words, just dill weed. I wasn't sure so instead I got up alongside him at the next stop and gave him the I haven't had sex/food/water/beer in a month and I'm really fucking pissed. The dude in the suit with the blue tooth jobby on his ear looked at me and quickly turned his head back forward. He knew what he did. And he knew I wasn't happy about it. Somehow we each ended up with two cars in front of us for the next three stops. Not once did he pull up alongside me again.
Fucking dill weed.
Fucking dill weed.
Georgia, Home of the Southern Women
After watching history take place yesterday as Fresno State became the biggest underdog in NCAA history to win a national championship (I know some people were watching soccer), I had to go online and check out the enrollment at both schools. I was surprised to find that Fresno State had 22,000 students. I knew Georgia would have more (34,000) but usually your “big underdogs” come from schools like Davidson (1,700) who knocked off my beloved Badgers in this year’s basketball tournament. Man, it seams like that was way more than three months ago. Anyway, I found another interesting stat on Georgia’s website. 57% of the students are female. 19,283.67 women only have 14,547.33 men to choose from. That’s a difference of 4,737. Assuming a one guy/one girl hook up ratio (snatching two girls would just be greedy, and yes, I said snatch), what do those 4,737 women do for sex? Yes, you’ve got it: me! My enrollment application for grad school is in the mail.
Changing The Blog Name
Would it like totally fuck everyone up if I changed the name of the blog? Would anyone even care? Job for the day: think of new blog title (I'm thinking, seriously, don't bother me, this shit isn't fun).
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
That’s Just Retarded
Oh, you missed it. My mom dropped by unannounced.
Really, when?
About ten minutes ago. She said she called but its Sunday and my phone is off.
Why did she stop over?
She brought my retarded cousin over to see the puppy.
Retarded cousin?
Yep, retarded cousin.
She must be from your mom’s side of the family. So why is she weird?
Everyone on that side is weird but this one is actually retarded.
What? I thought you called her retarded because she was odd. That’s just mean to call her retarded if she’s really retarded!
Humph.
Really, when?
About ten minutes ago. She said she called but its Sunday and my phone is off.
Why did she stop over?
She brought my retarded cousin over to see the puppy.
Retarded cousin?
Yep, retarded cousin.
She must be from your mom’s side of the family. So why is she weird?
Everyone on that side is weird but this one is actually retarded.
What? I thought you called her retarded because she was odd. That’s just mean to call her retarded if she’s really retarded!
Humph.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
96 Hours
I’m going to tell you a little story here. It’s a story about something I’m really proud off (unlike that story about the economic stimulus check going straight to the Indians - fuck). It’s a story, maybe an accomplishment, that I’m guessing most of you have never been through. I’ve done it before not in the civilized world.
The story starts out like this. I took a shower last week Thursday before I went to work. I lifted weights like usual during lunch, lifted office furniture for an hour that turned out to be more of a workout than the weight room, asked for Friday off and went home. It took me an hour and a half to drive six miles; traffic just sucked ass. That night I had some beers and went to bed.
Friday, as the weather man had indicated, was freaking beautiful. The 80 degree temperature and cloudless skies left me basking in the sun on the deck with the puppy and a cooler full of beer. I was sweating my ass off. I stayed up till 6:00 in the morning (the birds were chirping) while enjoying a campfire on the deck.
Saturday I went car shopping with the Renter for what seemed like forever. It was still pretty warm outside. After four or five hours I finally got to go home to my beloved deck. Only made it up till 3:00 Sunday morning as I got pretty hammered after being stuck inside all day on a Saturday.
I sat inside watching TV all Sunday recovering from the previous rough three days. I sucked down whatever non-alcoholic beverage I could get my hands on. Eventually I made it up to the bar and played a couple games of while enjoying a couple pitchers of beer.
Monday morning I showered…
…for the first time all weekend…
…having never changed my clothes…
…not even my underwear.
Pretty impressive, eh? 96 hours without showering while not being camping or living on the streets. I even went out like normal, just made sure I had a hat on to cover the grease mat that my hair was becoming. I’d toss on a little deodorant, spray on a little cologne, and head out the door. You’d think after sitting by the fire for so long and not showering for so long that someone would have said something but nope.
Then again, I probably just smelled like normal.
(For the record, ladies, if we were like dating or something that involved me taking my underwear off, well, I can guarantee you 100% that there's a 50% chance I would have showered at some point that weekend.)
The story starts out like this. I took a shower last week Thursday before I went to work. I lifted weights like usual during lunch, lifted office furniture for an hour that turned out to be more of a workout than the weight room, asked for Friday off and went home. It took me an hour and a half to drive six miles; traffic just sucked ass. That night I had some beers and went to bed.
Friday, as the weather man had indicated, was freaking beautiful. The 80 degree temperature and cloudless skies left me basking in the sun on the deck with the puppy and a cooler full of beer. I was sweating my ass off. I stayed up till 6:00 in the morning (the birds were chirping) while enjoying a campfire on the deck.
Saturday I went car shopping with the Renter for what seemed like forever. It was still pretty warm outside. After four or five hours I finally got to go home to my beloved deck. Only made it up till 3:00 Sunday morning as I got pretty hammered after being stuck inside all day on a Saturday.
I sat inside watching TV all Sunday recovering from the previous rough three days. I sucked down whatever non-alcoholic beverage I could get my hands on. Eventually I made it up to the bar and played a couple games of while enjoying a couple pitchers of beer.
Monday morning I showered…
…for the first time all weekend…
…having never changed my clothes…
…not even my underwear.
Pretty impressive, eh? 96 hours without showering while not being camping or living on the streets. I even went out like normal, just made sure I had a hat on to cover the grease mat that my hair was becoming. I’d toss on a little deodorant, spray on a little cologne, and head out the door. You’d think after sitting by the fire for so long and not showering for so long that someone would have said something but nope.
Then again, I probably just smelled like normal.
(For the record, ladies, if we were like dating or something that involved me taking my underwear off, well, I can guarantee you 100% that there's a 50% chance I would have showered at some point that weekend.)
Subs
I was on Circuit City’s website a couple weeks ago and stumbled upon this:
I did a little research and found the 10” subs were going for $60 a piece and the amp was worth $150. That’s $270 for the amp and the subs not to mention the enclosure. The package from Circuit City, completely assembled as shown, went for $150. Hell, I couldn’t turn that down. I got it, installed it, and tugged on my penis a little after hearing it for the first time. The $150 sub/amp combo sounds better than some of my past setups that have cost four times as much. (For the record, it’s a toss up between the best systems I’ve ever had: four 10” Rockford Fosgate Power Series subs – currently in my living room housed in custom tower speakers – with two 300 watt cheapo amps vs. two 12” RFPS subs with a Power Series amp that put out 1,000 real watts; that one used to make quarters jump a quarter of an inch on the roof of the 2002 Toyota Tacoma which I rolled and totaled with 3,000 miles on it.) It’s not like I drive around with the stereo cranked listening to Young Jeezy or anything. Strictly rock ‘n roll for me, buddy. I’m fucking Kid Rock white trash like that.
But the thing is I can’t really get on it as much as I’d like (kind of like with the womens). For one thing Milwaukee County has issued an ordinance that anyone can call in your license plate if they think you’re stereo is too loud and you get hit with a warning for the first time, a $100 ticket for the second, and life imprisonment (complete with big black lover) for the third. Yeah, that’s ok, I really don’t want to take it in the ass. Then there’s the problem with my listening habits. In the morning I’m listening to Bob ‘n Brian talking to Steve Czaben as he does his daily sports report. Driving home from work I’m partially in “da hood” for three of the six miles home so I don’t like to crank it then (I consider anything east of 35th and Wisconsin Ave. the hood – I know, I’m a pussy). That leaves me with 2.5 miles in which to crank the stereo. I don’t want to do it close to my house and I certainly won’t when the puppy’s in the car. So I have this $150 sub/amp combo that weighs a good 70 lbs in the back of my Jeep that I can fully utilize for five minutes a day and which decreases my gas mileage ever so little (when you’re getting a whopping 16 mpg another 1 mpg off doesn’t even make you flinch).
I tried looking for the receipt yesterday; couldn’t find it. I was tossing around the idea of returning it after I received my $600 economic stimulus check and blew it all at the casino the same day (we won’t get in to that here, way too depressing). (Fuck, like really depressing.) I’m afraid if someone tries to steal it they’re going to slice open the new $500 top I put on the Jeep. I thought of putting the $40 Bazooka Tube back in there instead but the Renter pointed out that someone would slice the top trying to get at either of the sub combos. The other downfall is that the new sub pretty much takes up the back half of the Jeep. With the new top I had to take the sound bar off the roll cage and stick it in the garage. I went out and bought two 6x9’s and two enclosures and they sit right behind the center console (I know, no stereo effect but it sounded the best there). The 10’s enclosure sits right behind those and that’s about it for storage space. If I wanted to go camping I’d either have to take the sub box out (and miss out on some quality highway crankage) or strap all the camping gear on top on the rear deck cover with bungee cords. But I guess if I can’t find the receipt I’m pretty much stuck with it. Don’t get me wrong, I like it a lot, but it’s not exactly something that I really need.
Something else I don’t really need: a second penis. While it would be kind of cool having something for my left hand to play with I’d never get anything done and develop carpal tunnel in both my wrists.
I did a little research and found the 10” subs were going for $60 a piece and the amp was worth $150. That’s $270 for the amp and the subs not to mention the enclosure. The package from Circuit City, completely assembled as shown, went for $150. Hell, I couldn’t turn that down. I got it, installed it, and tugged on my penis a little after hearing it for the first time. The $150 sub/amp combo sounds better than some of my past setups that have cost four times as much. (For the record, it’s a toss up between the best systems I’ve ever had: four 10” Rockford Fosgate Power Series subs – currently in my living room housed in custom tower speakers – with two 300 watt cheapo amps vs. two 12” RFPS subs with a Power Series amp that put out 1,000 real watts; that one used to make quarters jump a quarter of an inch on the roof of the 2002 Toyota Tacoma which I rolled and totaled with 3,000 miles on it.) It’s not like I drive around with the stereo cranked listening to Young Jeezy or anything. Strictly rock ‘n roll for me, buddy. I’m fucking Kid Rock white trash like that.
But the thing is I can’t really get on it as much as I’d like (kind of like with the womens). For one thing Milwaukee County has issued an ordinance that anyone can call in your license plate if they think you’re stereo is too loud and you get hit with a warning for the first time, a $100 ticket for the second, and life imprisonment (complete with big black lover) for the third. Yeah, that’s ok, I really don’t want to take it in the ass. Then there’s the problem with my listening habits. In the morning I’m listening to Bob ‘n Brian talking to Steve Czaben as he does his daily sports report. Driving home from work I’m partially in “da hood” for three of the six miles home so I don’t like to crank it then (I consider anything east of 35th and Wisconsin Ave. the hood – I know, I’m a pussy). That leaves me with 2.5 miles in which to crank the stereo. I don’t want to do it close to my house and I certainly won’t when the puppy’s in the car. So I have this $150 sub/amp combo that weighs a good 70 lbs in the back of my Jeep that I can fully utilize for five minutes a day and which decreases my gas mileage ever so little (when you’re getting a whopping 16 mpg another 1 mpg off doesn’t even make you flinch).
I tried looking for the receipt yesterday; couldn’t find it. I was tossing around the idea of returning it after I received my $600 economic stimulus check and blew it all at the casino the same day (we won’t get in to that here, way too depressing). (Fuck, like really depressing.) I’m afraid if someone tries to steal it they’re going to slice open the new $500 top I put on the Jeep. I thought of putting the $40 Bazooka Tube back in there instead but the Renter pointed out that someone would slice the top trying to get at either of the sub combos. The other downfall is that the new sub pretty much takes up the back half of the Jeep. With the new top I had to take the sound bar off the roll cage and stick it in the garage. I went out and bought two 6x9’s and two enclosures and they sit right behind the center console (I know, no stereo effect but it sounded the best there). The 10’s enclosure sits right behind those and that’s about it for storage space. If I wanted to go camping I’d either have to take the sub box out (and miss out on some quality highway crankage) or strap all the camping gear on top on the rear deck cover with bungee cords. But I guess if I can’t find the receipt I’m pretty much stuck with it. Don’t get me wrong, I like it a lot, but it’s not exactly something that I really need.
Something else I don’t really need: a second penis. While it would be kind of cool having something for my left hand to play with I’d never get anything done and develop carpal tunnel in both my wrists.
Young Jeezy – Dumb Fuck
ATLANTA (AP) -- Rapper Young Jeezy was charged with driving under the influence and speeding after he was pulled over on an Atlanta highway early Wednesday.
The multi-platinum-selling artist, whose real name is Jay Jenkins, was driving a Corvette when he was stopped about 2:30 a.m. on Interstate 85, police department spokesman Officer James Polite said.
The arresting officer noticed the vehicle did not have a license plate, but Polite could not say how fast Jenkins was driving.
Jenkins was charged with speeding, driving with no proof of insurance or license plate, having an open container, reckless driving and driving impaired by alcohol or drugs.
He was released from the Atlanta City Detention Center a few hours later on a $4,100 bond. He is scheduled to appear in court July 17.
His attorney, Scott E. Leemon, said in a news release that Jenkins was arrested after leaving a recording studio, where he was working on his new album.
Yeah, because those rap guys work to the wee hours in the morning working on their so-called “albums.” Show your average rapper a piano or a guitar. I can almost certainly guarantee you the first thing they’re thinking about is how they’re going to smash the piano over your head (because the guitar, you know, with the handle with the knobs and everything, well, that’s just too hardcore white trash rock ‘n roll to actually touch. God knows what you could get from touching one of those).
Friday, June 20, 2008
Vacation Friday Part #46
Yeah, I saw the weather forecast and had to take today off. Wisconsin summers don't last very long and you have to take the good days off when you can get them. And since I probably won't be taking a real vacation this year (economic stimulus check gone, I'd rather not talk about it - involves a newly renovated casino, which I pretty much funded 100% of it), I plan to use my vacation days here and there based on the weather this summer.
At my last job I got four weeks of vacation. I went to Cancun twice a year for two weeks at a crack for three years. That was pretty freaking cool. But I was kind of a peon there; I don't think I could take two weeks off at my current job. Getting old and having responsibilities sucks.
(I'm not sure if the puppy likes me being home. She's just sleeping on the deck on the shade. Guess she'd be sleeping anyways.)
So I'm sitting out here, in the sun, finally exposing the titties to the sun - been wearing a tank top all summer - wondering if I have the funds to go to Cancun for a week (yes), but not wanting to spend the funds for a Mexican vacation (definitley), and contemplating how mad the Renter would be if I went to Cancun and didn't invite her (she and I don't get along well outside of Milwaukee county).
I heard passports are going for $100 now-a-days. Fuck that.
I've spent enough money at the bar on my credit card that I can get a free flight on American. In October. But you know me, it's going to cost another $400 in beer while I'm down there sitting on the beach and in the clubs (i.e., dive bars with some dude strumming a guitar in the corner - I don't do clubs - unless some hot Chicano is making out with me like the last time I went to Coco Bungo).
(Seriously, that happened, why don't you believe me? She was way out of my league but I was white, she didn't speak English, and wanted to bear my children and come to the States. Legally. Like getting married. Or so I thought. She didn't put out. Fucking cunt. I tried to tell her that's how kids came about - even anally - but no, didn't seal the deal.)
So, as it stands, I'm stuck on the deck (not that I'm complaining), with a cooler full of beer and a sleeping puppy. Things could be worse. I could be a 20 lb overweight wanna-be weightlifter who drinks too much - oh fuck.
If you are any kind of a weightlifter, try the Update #2. Three days a week, every body part, low sets and reps - give it a shot. It's been working for me, even though I've only gotten in the gym twice a week for the past month. Don't give me shit for not following the three day thing, I've been drunk/hungover. But I'm good.
So, to conclude this drunken post on which I've hit the backspace key more than any other... well, I've got nothing. I'd like to see New York and since I've been sleeping on the floor next to the puppy's crate for the last week I wouldn't mind camping out in your living room for a weekend if you'd offer. And as much as I hate airports a parking spot would be nice - I just don't fit in airplanes and a long drive with the top off of the Jeep would be nice - I'd gladly pay the bill at Third and Long on a Monday or Tuesday (yes, Swandad, I'll be sure to tip the tenders).
Till then, or tomorrow, peace out.
At my last job I got four weeks of vacation. I went to Cancun twice a year for two weeks at a crack for three years. That was pretty freaking cool. But I was kind of a peon there; I don't think I could take two weeks off at my current job. Getting old and having responsibilities sucks.
(I'm not sure if the puppy likes me being home. She's just sleeping on the deck on the shade. Guess she'd be sleeping anyways.)
So I'm sitting out here, in the sun, finally exposing the titties to the sun - been wearing a tank top all summer - wondering if I have the funds to go to Cancun for a week (yes), but not wanting to spend the funds for a Mexican vacation (definitley), and contemplating how mad the Renter would be if I went to Cancun and didn't invite her (she and I don't get along well outside of Milwaukee county).
I heard passports are going for $100 now-a-days. Fuck that.
I've spent enough money at the bar on my credit card that I can get a free flight on American. In October. But you know me, it's going to cost another $400 in beer while I'm down there sitting on the beach and in the clubs (i.e., dive bars with some dude strumming a guitar in the corner - I don't do clubs - unless some hot Chicano is making out with me like the last time I went to Coco Bungo).
(Seriously, that happened, why don't you believe me? She was way out of my league but I was white, she didn't speak English, and wanted to bear my children and come to the States. Legally. Like getting married. Or so I thought. She didn't put out. Fucking cunt. I tried to tell her that's how kids came about - even anally - but no, didn't seal the deal.)
So, as it stands, I'm stuck on the deck (not that I'm complaining), with a cooler full of beer and a sleeping puppy. Things could be worse. I could be a 20 lb overweight wanna-be weightlifter who drinks too much - oh fuck.
If you are any kind of a weightlifter, try the Update #2. Three days a week, every body part, low sets and reps - give it a shot. It's been working for me, even though I've only gotten in the gym twice a week for the past month. Don't give me shit for not following the three day thing, I've been drunk/hungover. But I'm good.
So, to conclude this drunken post on which I've hit the backspace key more than any other... well, I've got nothing. I'd like to see New York and since I've been sleeping on the floor next to the puppy's crate for the last week I wouldn't mind camping out in your living room for a weekend if you'd offer. And as much as I hate airports a parking spot would be nice - I just don't fit in airplanes and a long drive with the top off of the Jeep would be nice - I'd gladly pay the bill at Third and Long on a Monday or Tuesday (yes, Swandad, I'll be sure to tip the tenders).
Till then, or tomorrow, peace out.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Kardashian
Kim Kardashian has her own production company: Kimsaprincess Productions, LLC. I hearby proclaim her the dumbest/snottiest/most worthless rich bitch on the planet. But I'd still fuck her even after supreme pussy getter Reggie Bush has rummaged around in all of her orifices.
Contacts
Woke up this morning and I could see clear as day. Left my contacts im overnight. Had to have been a good evening. I'd tell you about it - if I could remember it.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
3 Homers
The Brewers had three homers with two outs in seperate innings. Talk about clutch. I think thier bats are coming around.
Garnett's Foot
..was on the ground when he made that shot after getting fouled in the second quarter.
Popcorn Popper
As you know from the previous post I don’t like folding clothes. After I pull them out of the dryer I normally toss them in a pile on the floor and put other dirty clothes in the hamper. Sure, they get a little wrinkled on the floor buy hey, I really don’t care that much. But I do still like them to be clean when I go to put them on the next time.
Last week I went to go put on a t-shirt from the clean clothes pile. After pulling it over my head I was engulfed with this wicked stench. I took it off, examined it for spots and sniffed around here and there. Sure enough, the little puppy, who I thought was making it all night without peeing while sleeping on my bed, well, she was peeing on my clothes. I had to re-wash the whole pile.
The little puppy is a needy puppy. She follows me around everywhere. If I go take a shit she has to be in the bathroom. If she’s sleeping on the couch and I get up to go to the kitchen she has to follow me. Whatever room I’m in she has to be there, too.
The only way I could get her to stop peeing in the middle of the night was to put her in her kennel. Knowing how needy she is I knew this wouldn’t go over well at all. So Thursday night I moved the kennel to the bedroom with me. I put her in with her bed and toys and turned off the light. You’d have thought I was sticking her with a fork if you had heard the yelps coming out of the kennel. I did the only thing I could think of to rectify the situation. I grabbed two pillows and a blanket and slept on the floor with my head six inches away from the kennel door. She calmed down, fussed in the kennel a little more and eventually went to sleep. The second night I did this she went right to sleep.
This seems to have been working as far as not peeing in my room is concerned. I’ve noticed that she pees a lot more in the mornings than what she used to do – like twice as much. So, cool, right?
Wrong. My back, butt, and hips have been sore ever since. I haven’t slept in my bed since Wednesday. Each night I’ll put her in the kennel, situate the pillows on the floor and lie down. I wake up two or three times a night with shooting pain from sleeping on the carpeted floor. On Monday I snagged a sleeping bag to sleep on from the parent’s house and this seemed to help a little. I think I’m going to have to put the kennel on the bed till she gets used to sleeping in there without my face being right by the door. I hope that happens soon. I don’t want to bring home some random woman and end up bouncing the puppy around in the kennel like one of those popcorn poppers everyone had as a kid.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Folding Underwear
I remember back when I was a wittle kid my mom used to fold my clean underwear every Saturday. But since I've been folding my own underwear for the past two years (I know, it's been a rough two years) I'm starting to wonder, what's the point? You get up in the morning, take a shower (well, I heard that's what most people do), slide the suckers up and you're done. Does it matter if you didn't fold them the last time you did a load? They're not like socks where you have to match them up or anything. So anyway, I'm going to protest folding underwear and see what happens. If you spot me walking funny either the underwear is protesting back or, more likely, I've crapped my pants (I better knock on wood on that one, it's been a while, I'm probably due).
(And for the record, that's #7 in a row off my numeric cell phone. Lot of fucking key strokes.)
(And for the record, that's #7 in a row off my numeric cell phone. Lot of fucking key strokes.)
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Mobile Posting
I've put up the last five (now six) posts using my cell phone - which doesn't have an alphabetical key pad. I know, stone age shit. And I think having my phone right by my crotch while I punch "7" four times to get an "s" is why my testicles have been shrinking lately (not that they were all that big to begin with).
Stamina
When women talk about sex they always have "stamina" at the top of the list of what they want in a man. What is stamina? Is it not cumming 30 seconds after insertion? If that's the case I have stamina to burn. Or is it a test of endurance? I'm fucked if that's what it is. I had to take two breaks today mowing the lawn that usually takes 20 minutes. (For the record, ladies, I did this at 10:00 this morning after a very good night of drinking. I'll be back to my prime later this evening.)
Friday, June 13, 2008
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Van Gundy
Jeff Van Gundy just down played Donaghy's comments about fixing the Rocket's series against the Mavs. Yeah, he got his $100k check back earlier today. NBA, NFL, it's all a big conspirasy, except it's for real. (I had a black sedan circle my house three times now, I think they're on to me.)
No No In The Men's Locker Room
I heard some guy whistling "Dancing Queen" in the locker room yesterday. Seriously folks.
Update #2 to The Beer Drinker’s Guide to Weightlifting
Yeah, I should have used a different title like Check Out These Titties! or The Best Head Ever! or Free Beer! or I Had This Boner That Just Wouldn’t Go Down - And It Was Fucking HUGE! as I’m sure most of you don’t even read these updates to my little weightlifting guide (besides, all those other titles would be lies - and I wouldn't lie to you - well, except for that "huge" part). But I feel like it’s a public service announcement that I’m obligated to share with you. I really don’t think there are that many people out there like me who have taken the pussy off the pedestal and replaced it with alcohol but yet still enjoy a good workout in the weight room. [In my best Allen Iverson voice: Pussy? Pussy? Come on, what are we talking ‘bout here? Pussy? Pussy. We ain’t talking about games here, we’re talking ‘bout pussy.] [In my best Jim Mora voice: What’s that? Uh – pussy? Don’t talk about – pussy? You kidding me? Pussy? I just hope I can get some beer!]
So I’ve been trying this new routine for the past week and a half. Instead of doing 12 sets of chest exercises one day and 12 sets of back exercises the next I’ve been doing everything in one day, just in smaller amounts. Using a Monday/Wednesday/Friday schedule I’ve been able to hit all the body part three times a week without over fatiguing any muscles. The key here is to not overdo it. My new workout looks like this:
3 sets chest
3 sets back
3 sets shoulders
3 sets biceps
3 sets triceps
2 sets shoulder shrugs
By doing only three sets for each body part you’ll still feel the ache the next day but by the second day you’re ready to workout again. I’m still using heavy weights and aiming for the 6-8 rep range, just cutting the number of sets down. The order of this workout is very important. After doing three sets of chest you give the shoulders and triceps a rest by doing three sets of back. Once you’re done with the back exercises your shoulders will be somewhat recovered from doing chest that you can go straight at them. Since you use your triceps while doing most shoulder exercises (overhead presses) you hit the biceps next and give the triceps a little breather. Hit the triceps and do a couple grueling sets of shoulder shrugs and you’re done. Finito.
When you go in for your next workout switch up the exercises, not the order, to get an overall well rounded week in. If you did flat bench the previous time hit the incline bench. If you did pull-ups for your previous back exercise change it to a dumbbell row. Changing the exercises up for each body part will ensure that you get them from every possible angle throughout the course of the week.
There you have it, yet another update to The Beer Drinker’s Guide to Weightlifting. Give it a shot for a week or two and switch back to a previous installation to be really diverse. If you do a workout long enough your body will get used to it. You’re better off changing it up from time to time.
(On another note, I read somewhere that UCLA’s Kevin Love benched 185 lbs 18 times at the NBA scout camp down in Florida. I know the guy’s like 6’10” and 290 lbs but fuck, look at him; ain’t a whole lot of muscle bulging on those flabby arms. Sure, he could have hit the gym hard since I last saw him in March and he probably did considering he’s entering the NBA draft this year but 18 times? Now I don’t recommend anyone adding this to their workout but I’ve been on a mission to top this. On my first set of benches I’m trying to do 185 lbs as many times as possible (currently up to 15). Doing 18 reps of any chest exercise is a bit much but I’m just trying to see if I can do it. I’m sure that he trained specifically for this weight for the scouting camp. Putting up 185 lbs more times than the next guy might impress NBA scouts; not me. I’m sure he’d fail miserably with 250 lbs. Just wait till he has to go up against Orlando’s Dwight Howard who can bench 365 lbs (not to mention Dwight can actually jump higher than six inches).
(Yet another note - Kevin Durant couldn’t bench 185 lbs once last year.)
So I’ve been trying this new routine for the past week and a half. Instead of doing 12 sets of chest exercises one day and 12 sets of back exercises the next I’ve been doing everything in one day, just in smaller amounts. Using a Monday/Wednesday/Friday schedule I’ve been able to hit all the body part three times a week without over fatiguing any muscles. The key here is to not overdo it. My new workout looks like this:
3 sets chest
3 sets back
3 sets shoulders
3 sets biceps
3 sets triceps
2 sets shoulder shrugs
By doing only three sets for each body part you’ll still feel the ache the next day but by the second day you’re ready to workout again. I’m still using heavy weights and aiming for the 6-8 rep range, just cutting the number of sets down. The order of this workout is very important. After doing three sets of chest you give the shoulders and triceps a rest by doing three sets of back. Once you’re done with the back exercises your shoulders will be somewhat recovered from doing chest that you can go straight at them. Since you use your triceps while doing most shoulder exercises (overhead presses) you hit the biceps next and give the triceps a little breather. Hit the triceps and do a couple grueling sets of shoulder shrugs and you’re done. Finito.
When you go in for your next workout switch up the exercises, not the order, to get an overall well rounded week in. If you did flat bench the previous time hit the incline bench. If you did pull-ups for your previous back exercise change it to a dumbbell row. Changing the exercises up for each body part will ensure that you get them from every possible angle throughout the course of the week.
There you have it, yet another update to The Beer Drinker’s Guide to Weightlifting. Give it a shot for a week or two and switch back to a previous installation to be really diverse. If you do a workout long enough your body will get used to it. You’re better off changing it up from time to time.
(On another note, I read somewhere that UCLA’s Kevin Love benched 185 lbs 18 times at the NBA scout camp down in Florida. I know the guy’s like 6’10” and 290 lbs but fuck, look at him; ain’t a whole lot of muscle bulging on those flabby arms. Sure, he could have hit the gym hard since I last saw him in March and he probably did considering he’s entering the NBA draft this year but 18 times? Now I don’t recommend anyone adding this to their workout but I’ve been on a mission to top this. On my first set of benches I’m trying to do 185 lbs as many times as possible (currently up to 15). Doing 18 reps of any chest exercise is a bit much but I’m just trying to see if I can do it. I’m sure that he trained specifically for this weight for the scouting camp. Putting up 185 lbs more times than the next guy might impress NBA scouts; not me. I’m sure he’d fail miserably with 250 lbs. Just wait till he has to go up against Orlando’s Dwight Howard who can bench 365 lbs (not to mention Dwight can actually jump higher than six inches).
(Yet another note - Kevin Durant couldn’t bench 185 lbs once last year.)
Monday, June 09, 2008
Guess It Was Kind Of Serious...
Hell, I was outside grilling steaks. My house is on a hill, no flooding at all.
And yes, that's my ass in the window, I'm mooning all you fuckers.
Friday, June 06, 2008
Roger Goodell - NFL Conspiracy Theory
I’ve always said that Roger Goodell, the commissioner for the National Football League, is the second most powerful person in America (behind only the President). And now, ladies and gentlemen, I have substantial evidence to back my claim.
David Jacobs was a known steroid dealer in the Dallas area. After getting busted by the cops and sentenced to three years probation on May 1st he singled out one NFL player who he had sold tens of thousands of dollars of performance enhancing drugs (I guess he and Matt Lehr had some kind of falling out, that’s why he was named). Matt Lehr was suspended for four games after failing a drug test in 2006 when he played for the Atlanta Falcons.
Jacobs said NFL officials were knocking on his door at 9:00 am the day after his sentencing. On May 21st the NFL security officials (you know, those guys with the dark suits, shades, possible bulges revealing concealed weapons) met with Mr. Jacobs. Jacobs and his lawyer, Hank Hockeimer, discussed which other NFL players Jacobs had supplied with anabolic steroids. He handed over canceled checks and other evidence to the officials.
The Dallas Morning News reports: A few weeks ago, attempting to turn things around after his legal troubles ended, Mr. Jacobs was thrilled at the positive response to an online audio interview he gave. "God I really do need to write a book ..."
Yeah, that’s what the NFL really wants.
There are conflicting stories on how the police came to find both Jacobs and his girlfriend, Amanda Jo Earhart-Savell, shot to death in his home. One report said Jacobs’ father received an anonymous phone call at his home in Georgia telling him to call the police. Another report said Earhart-Savell’s family filed a missing persons report and told police that she might be with Jacobs. The anonymous phone call reeks of foul play.
And finally there’s the medical examiner’s report. Yep, go figure, murder/suicide.
From the Associated Press: “The medical examiner said Friday that Jacobs suffered a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the abdomen and another to the head. They didn’t say more about Earhart-Savell’s death.”
First off, who’s to say that she didn’t shoot him twice and then shoot herself? Secondly, who the fuck shoots themselves in the stomach before going for the money shot in the head? That just doesn’t make sense in my book. Why would you inflict severe pain on yourself before ending it all?
I went on the Milwaukee Journal Sentinal’s website. They have a salary database for all the state, county, and city employees. The top county medical examiner makes $79,000 (the director of the medical examiner’s office makes $215,000 but it’s unlikely that he actually sees any of the stiffs that come in). Who’s to say Roger Goodell didn’t cut a handsome check to cover up the mob-like hit?
Here’s how I think it all went down. David Jacobs was hurting for cash. His natural supplement business was floundering after he was arrested last year. He had lawyer fees to pay and the $25,000 fine he was given at his sentencing. The best opportunity he had left to get his hands on some cash was by writing a book. Once the NFL found out about the online audio interview they had to put this to rest (as in rest in peace). The before mentioned security officials went to his house, shot him in the stomach, off'ed the girlfriend, and had some choice words for him before wrapping things up. They paid off the medical examiner and now it appears to be another roid rage travesty just like the Chris Benoit incident.
What, sounds to wild to be true?
The neighbors didn’t hear any gunshots. The police haven’t released anything more than what I’ve written here. And the multi-billion dollar franchise that is the NFL will avoid any steroid controversy like Major League Baseball just went through.
Remember those Spygate video tapes that former New England Patriot’s video assistant Matt Walsh turned over? Yeah, those were “destroyed,” just like David Jacobs’ testimony and other evidence will be shortly if it hasn’t been already.
Roger Goodell don’t take no shit.
(And now, after writing this, I have this strange feeling that I’m going to be super paranoid and triple deadbolt my house just like Mel Gibson’s character did in Conspiracy Theory. There aren’t any random drive byes in my neighborhood. If something happens to me you’ll know that I was at least somewhat on target here.)
David Jacobs was a known steroid dealer in the Dallas area. After getting busted by the cops and sentenced to three years probation on May 1st he singled out one NFL player who he had sold tens of thousands of dollars of performance enhancing drugs (I guess he and Matt Lehr had some kind of falling out, that’s why he was named). Matt Lehr was suspended for four games after failing a drug test in 2006 when he played for the Atlanta Falcons.
Jacobs said NFL officials were knocking on his door at 9:00 am the day after his sentencing. On May 21st the NFL security officials (you know, those guys with the dark suits, shades, possible bulges revealing concealed weapons) met with Mr. Jacobs. Jacobs and his lawyer, Hank Hockeimer, discussed which other NFL players Jacobs had supplied with anabolic steroids. He handed over canceled checks and other evidence to the officials.
The Dallas Morning News reports: A few weeks ago, attempting to turn things around after his legal troubles ended, Mr. Jacobs was thrilled at the positive response to an online audio interview he gave. "God I really do need to write a book ..."
Yeah, that’s what the NFL really wants.
There are conflicting stories on how the police came to find both Jacobs and his girlfriend, Amanda Jo Earhart-Savell, shot to death in his home. One report said Jacobs’ father received an anonymous phone call at his home in Georgia telling him to call the police. Another report said Earhart-Savell’s family filed a missing persons report and told police that she might be with Jacobs. The anonymous phone call reeks of foul play.
And finally there’s the medical examiner’s report. Yep, go figure, murder/suicide.
From the Associated Press: “The medical examiner said Friday that Jacobs suffered a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the abdomen and another to the head. They didn’t say more about Earhart-Savell’s death.”
First off, who’s to say that she didn’t shoot him twice and then shoot herself? Secondly, who the fuck shoots themselves in the stomach before going for the money shot in the head? That just doesn’t make sense in my book. Why would you inflict severe pain on yourself before ending it all?
I went on the Milwaukee Journal Sentinal’s website. They have a salary database for all the state, county, and city employees. The top county medical examiner makes $79,000 (the director of the medical examiner’s office makes $215,000 but it’s unlikely that he actually sees any of the stiffs that come in). Who’s to say Roger Goodell didn’t cut a handsome check to cover up the mob-like hit?
Here’s how I think it all went down. David Jacobs was hurting for cash. His natural supplement business was floundering after he was arrested last year. He had lawyer fees to pay and the $25,000 fine he was given at his sentencing. The best opportunity he had left to get his hands on some cash was by writing a book. Once the NFL found out about the online audio interview they had to put this to rest (as in rest in peace). The before mentioned security officials went to his house, shot him in the stomach, off'ed the girlfriend, and had some choice words for him before wrapping things up. They paid off the medical examiner and now it appears to be another roid rage travesty just like the Chris Benoit incident.
What, sounds to wild to be true?
The neighbors didn’t hear any gunshots. The police haven’t released anything more than what I’ve written here. And the multi-billion dollar franchise that is the NFL will avoid any steroid controversy like Major League Baseball just went through.
Remember those Spygate video tapes that former New England Patriot’s video assistant Matt Walsh turned over? Yeah, those were “destroyed,” just like David Jacobs’ testimony and other evidence will be shortly if it hasn’t been already.
Roger Goodell don’t take no shit.
(And now, after writing this, I have this strange feeling that I’m going to be super paranoid and triple deadbolt my house just like Mel Gibson’s character did in Conspiracy Theory. There aren’t any random drive byes in my neighborhood. If something happens to me you’ll know that I was at least somewhat on target here.)
Brookfield says ‘no’ to Aldi store
From the Milwaukee Journal Sentinal:
So, you’re saying all the white people in Brookfield with their $300,000 homes don’t want black people shopping in their hood? I didn’t think you could blatantly print something like that in today’s day and age.
Hey, FA, what do you say?
The Town of Brookfield is rejecting plans by discount supermarket chain Aldi to open a store on Bluemound Road. Officials say they're concerned about the grocer's reputation and the type of customers the store would attract to the community.
So, you’re saying all the white people in Brookfield with their $300,000 homes don’t want black people shopping in their hood? I didn’t think you could blatantly print something like that in today’s day and age.
Hey, FA, what do you say?
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
What Would You Offer?
I read today that New York is raising its cigarette tax by $1.25 to a total of $2.75 a pack. The cigarette tax is supposed to bring in $1.3 billion for the state budget. Fuck that, dude.
Being the nice guy that I am, I truly feel sorry for all you New York smokers. $10 a pack really sucks. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to rent a U-Haul trailer, buy as many cartons that will fit in it and drive it on over to your fair state. I’m going to set up shop on the corner of 3rd Ave and East 35th St. and sell them to you for $8 (or sexual favors). The only problem here is that I think transporting tobacco over state lines is like illegal or something if your sole purpose is to sell them in a different state (didn’t read anything about the sexual favors being illegal, hint, hint). Therefore I’m going to propose a new plan. In exchange for two beers at Third and Long I’ll give you two packs of smokes and some quality conversation time (or making out, ladies, which ever you prefer). Now I know everyone’s going to mob that corner so we’re going to have to set up a signup sheet. The signup sheet is going to fill up fast and my Jeep Wrangler doesn’t have much towing capability so there won’t be a shit load of packs available. So, in order to make sure you make it to the top of the list (you had to see this one coming), I will be taking special “offers.” What you offer is up to you. I’ll need a place to stay so if you offer a bed you’ll be right up there at the top. You might not be ahead of those two 5’10” models who are out of work and don’t have anything to offer but their bodies but I’ll make sure you get your cigs. The most interesting and creative (and sexual) offers will most certainly make it on the list.
The best offer will get something very special. I’m going to offer a special four-pack of smokes on Monday and Tuesday ($1 draft nights at Third and Long). In exchange for $40 worth of cigarettes you’ll get my company all night long while you supply me with only $24 worth of beer. That’s right, a $16 dollar savings (!!!) and at least eight hours of fart jokes complete with actual farts!!! I know, pretty fucking sweet! We just have to make sure we blame the odor on that black guy with the gray goatee. Besides, he just looks like he’d be stinky.
So send in your offer. The estimated time of arrival will depend on the best offers and your availability. Oh, and don’t forget to tell me what brand of smokes you want.
(This is going to be awesome!)
Being the nice guy that I am, I truly feel sorry for all you New York smokers. $10 a pack really sucks. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to rent a U-Haul trailer, buy as many cartons that will fit in it and drive it on over to your fair state. I’m going to set up shop on the corner of 3rd Ave and East 35th St. and sell them to you for $8 (or sexual favors). The only problem here is that I think transporting tobacco over state lines is like illegal or something if your sole purpose is to sell them in a different state (didn’t read anything about the sexual favors being illegal, hint, hint). Therefore I’m going to propose a new plan. In exchange for two beers at Third and Long I’ll give you two packs of smokes and some quality conversation time (or making out, ladies, which ever you prefer). Now I know everyone’s going to mob that corner so we’re going to have to set up a signup sheet. The signup sheet is going to fill up fast and my Jeep Wrangler doesn’t have much towing capability so there won’t be a shit load of packs available. So, in order to make sure you make it to the top of the list (you had to see this one coming), I will be taking special “offers.” What you offer is up to you. I’ll need a place to stay so if you offer a bed you’ll be right up there at the top. You might not be ahead of those two 5’10” models who are out of work and don’t have anything to offer but their bodies but I’ll make sure you get your cigs. The most interesting and creative (and sexual) offers will most certainly make it on the list.
The best offer will get something very special. I’m going to offer a special four-pack of smokes on Monday and Tuesday ($1 draft nights at Third and Long). In exchange for $40 worth of cigarettes you’ll get my company all night long while you supply me with only $24 worth of beer. That’s right, a $16 dollar savings (!!!) and at least eight hours of fart jokes complete with actual farts!!! I know, pretty fucking sweet! We just have to make sure we blame the odor on that black guy with the gray goatee. Besides, he just looks like he’d be stinky.
So send in your offer. The estimated time of arrival will depend on the best offers and your availability. Oh, and don’t forget to tell me what brand of smokes you want.
(This is going to be awesome!)
Broken Bats
I thought I was seeing a lot of broken bats this year, about time they started to look in to it.
Monday, June 02, 2008
28
When you buy a 30 pack and you have two left in the morning, exactly how many beers did you have that day?
Yes my friends, that's exactly what I did on Saturday. I was a little disappointed in the morning when I saw that there were two left but still, kind of impressive.
I'll bet that's better than all you other bloggers out there can do. Fucking pussies.
(For the record, I'm not a blogger. I'm just some guy who has too much time on his hands. I mean, you can only masturbate so many times a day.)
Yes my friends, that's exactly what I did on Saturday. I was a little disappointed in the morning when I saw that there were two left but still, kind of impressive.
I'll bet that's better than all you other bloggers out there can do. Fucking pussies.
(For the record, I'm not a blogger. I'm just some guy who has too much time on his hands. I mean, you can only masturbate so many times a day.)
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