The Best Words in the English Language

All words are not created equally. In fact, it's not even close. Some words are far superior to others. To be clear, I appreciate all words...they're all necessary at some point. Take for example the word "it." It's not exciting.  But...it would not be easy to communicate without it, now would it?  I submit not.  That being said, some words stand alone atop the literary world.  The following is my Top-5 list of words, including slang.  You may not like these words at all, but at the very least, it may get you thinking about the terrific language we take for granted.  BULLET POINTS:

• 5)  "Party"  --   Defintion (Dictionary.com):   1. a social gathering, as of invited guests at a private home, for conversation, refreshments, entertainment, etc.: a cocktail party.  Definition (UrbanDictionary.com):  6.   Music + Food + Drinks + at least 3 people of at least 2 sexes.   Why I like the word:  Well, I like to party.  Responsibly.  It's fun to simply yell, "PARTY!!!"  It's fun to say, "I like to party."  It's fun to ask, "Do you like to party?"  Nothing says fun like the word party.  And as if that's not enough, there's this video:

• 4)  "Lunatic"  --  Definition (Dictionary.com):  1.  An insane person.  2.  A person whose actions and manner are marked by extreme eccentricity or recklessness.  Definition (UrbanDictionary.com):  4.  A bug that lives on the moon...That definition is in no way accurate, but it's flipping hilarious.  Why I like the word:  This word is fun to say, and it is inherently amusing in my opinion.  Give it a try.  And since I've already brought one 80's movie star into the fold, I might as well continue the trend with the best example of a lunatic known to man: 
  
  
  
  
  
   
• 3)  "Psycho" --  Definition (Dictionary.com):  1.  Slang-A psychopathic or neurotic person.  Definition (UrbanDictionary.com)  4.  The ex boyfriend/girlfriend  Why I like the word:  My group of friends affectionately refer to each other as "psychos."  It's said in a joking manner, but to a scary extent, it's pretty accurate.  Listen up; we've all got some "psycho" in us, and we need to let it out every now and then.  It's healthy. Don't quote me on that, but just go with it.  When you're driving down the road and someone cuts you off, yell "PSYCHO!!!"  See if you don't feel better.  When someone raises their voice at you or says something rude or mean, call them a psycho, and see if that doesn't shut them up.  When Tom Cruise goes on Oprah and jumps on a couch like a meth-head, be thankful that you're not that psycho.  One of my favorite all-time UNC basketball players, Tyler Hansbrough (Psycho-T), is the coolest psycho in sports.  Lastly, speaking of psychos and basketball, you can't go far without talking about this nut job:

•  
•  2)  "Giggle" -- Warning: the official definition is priceless. Definition (Dictionary.com):  to laugh in a silly,often high-pitched way, especially with short, repeated gasps and titters, as from juvenile or ill-concealed amusement or nervous embarrassment.  Off topic, quickly...What the heck is a titter?  Definition (UrbanDictionary.com)  4. Using Google to search for web sites with jokes, funny images or otherwise amusing and laughable content.  Why I like the word:  Why wouldn't anyone like the word "giggle"?  Seriously?  The word giggle makes me giggle.  The word giggle makes me smile.  I know girls AND guys that don't hardly ever laugh; instead they giggle.  When it comes to girls, nothing is cuter than a giggle.  When it comes to guys, nothing is less manly or more pathetic than a giggle, but it is hilarious and it raises the spirits of everyone within earshot.  It makes them think happy thoughts of leprechauns, elves, sunshine dust, and magic.  Check this Jimmy Dean commercial for some awesome-leprechaun-giggle-action:
  
  
  
  
   1)  "Dookie" -- Definition (Dictionary.com): No dictionary results  Definition (UrbanDictionary.com):  See:  poop  Why I like the word:  Here's the deal, "dookie" is the coolest non-word in the English language.  It's even cooler than "ain't."  Have you ever seen a kid in discomfort and anguish yell "I've gotta dookie!!!"?  I have.  It's the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life, and I immediately said, "Go to the bathroom!  Now!"  The bottom line is this...As an adult, if you ever find yourself in a situation where it's difficult to leave (i.e. an annoying acquaintance is talking your ears off, and you can't shut them up; you're at work, and you need to take a break but your boss is pressuring you to keep working; you're visiting in-laws; you're on a date gone terribly wrong and you want out--immediately)...if you're in one of those situations and you want the situation to end, you say this: "I GOTTA DOOKIE!"  See if anyone stands in your way after dropping that gem.  Not a chance.  Write this down:  If you say the magic word (dookie), you will Confuse, Diffuse, and Amuse.  Let me explain further--You will Confuse whoever is in your company, because only those in the 8 and under demographic are socially acceptable users of that word-even at parties.  You will Diffuse any volatile situation you are in, because turmoil and warfare in one's colon trump all situations.  Nothing expresses that turmoil like the word "dookie."  Lastly you will Amuse.....yourself.  Everyone else will be embarrassed to know you, offended by you, or they'll think you're a lunatic or a psycho.  But you will get the last laugh, because you just said "dookie" in public, and you're an adult.  Good job, you.  Good job.  Feel free to giggle wildly. 

If animals were smart...

Lots of people think their pets are "really smart," and that's fine.  Some pets and animals are smart...relatively.  Dogs can be trained to do amazing things...and they also lick themselves.  Cats can open doors and windows, and scientists say they can recognize people they met several years before...They also climb trees they can't get out of.  Dolphins can regonize themselves in mirrors:  CNN Dolphin Video.  Monkeys and honey badgers are known to use tools.  On an on.

But what if animals were REALLY smart.  Like, smart enough to screw with us.  Seriously, some of them could jack us up if they got together and planned something.  I'm most worried about eagles, monkeys, and lions.  BULLET POINTS:

• Eagles:  Can you imagine if 3 or more eagles teamed up for an aerial attack???  We'd have no chance.  If they simply got together and picked out a single unsuspecting human victim, that human would not make it out alive.  With those powerful talons, they could easily slice a jugular or pick a small person up...and then drop them.
• Monkeys:  These guys could really screw with us.  They already wreak havoc in the Caribbean-->
 

What if they decided to make life miserable for some poor schmuck?  They have opposable thumbs for goodness sake.  They could tie you up, and then slap you in the face, just for kicks.  Frightening.  

• Lions:  Whoa nelly.  Freaking lions.  If they gang up and decide to dominate the human race...we're dead.  It's so simple, it's scary.  I hope they don't read this.  First, they team up on a zoo keeper.  Boom, 3 or 4 of them are free.  Then, they hop on a bus and go to another zoo in America and convince those lions to kill their zoo keeper, too.  3 or 4 more escape and then you've got a posse of angry, blood thirsty lions.  At this point, they would have at least made the news so they'll have to start working at night.  But still, they could slowly make their way across America freeing all the lions.  At that point, they could surround houses and eat people all day.  Even if you had several guns, you'd need a hefty caliber to drop a daggum lion.  And if 1 or 2 of them goes down, another is swatting you in the face with a paw the size of your head.  Lose-lose. 

My golly, I hope these animals' brains don't evolve much more.

Long Walks on the Beach...

When people introduce themselves and tell you a little bit of their background, they always think it's hi-larious to add, "and I like long walks on the beach."  Everybody then laughs as a result of a pathetic trained social reflex...except me. 

First of all, that joke is just as old, if not older, than responding to the news that a 16-year-old just got their first driver's license with, "Uh oh!  I better stay off the roads!  Hur, hur, hur!"  Idiots.  I was personally offended when people used the "stay off the roads" with me at age 16.  I would not laugh or smile.  I would blankly stare at them until they awkwardly walked away.  Neither the beach joke nor the driving joke would be funny even if they weren't as old as Regis Philbin.

Second, I love long walks, but haven't you ever noticed the slightly (sometimes moderately) sloped landscape of a beach?  It makes it feel like you're walking without one of your shoes on.  It drives me nuts.  Also, at many beaches, especially Myrtle Beach, there is a constant heavy wind that does NOT blow in from the ocean but instead parallel to the coast line.  This means when you walk one way, you feel like you just snorted a line of cocaine and you're walking uber fast, like an Olympic speedwalker.  BUT, when you turn around, you get dominated by the wind, and it feels like you just snorted tons of antihistamines like Benadryl, and you're walking up a steep hill.

All that being said, I love the beach.  I prefer the beach to the mountains or to bare flat lands.  I simply don't enjoy long walks on it. 

Happy New Year!  Suckers.

Things in my Christmas stocking

It's a safe bet that you didn't get what I got in my Christmas stocking. My brother and I are constantly looking for rare and outlandish items to make each other laugh. He got me good this Christmas. Laughed for a good solid 4 minutes after discovering these dandies:
1) Scorpion Sucker-Banana Flavor

Yes, that's a real scorpion inside.  And, no, I don't know what you're suppose to do when you get to it.

2) Edible Crickets-Bacon and Cheese flavored

Again, the items inside are real.  Real dead.  And edible.  Quite luxurious with the bacon and cheese flavoring.

My father and mother are also good at picking out gifts.  They know lots of people that make wood carvings and other hand made stuff.  That led to this gem:

3)  A hand-carved wolf sling shot:

 Apparently, no Christmas is complete without something that can shoot your eye out.  I like it a lot.

Woodchucks

This commercial makes me giggle.  Hard.


That's all I got. Happy Monday!

You Just Got Skunked

Animals amaze me.  The way they look and the way they act keeps me entertained.  We'll get to the skunk in a minute, but let's look at my top-6 animals first, for no particular reason.  The list fluctuates, but today, here's how it stands.

6. Horses

5. Dogs

4.  Panthers

3.  Monkeys

2. Zonkeys (That's right, a freaking Donkey mixed with a Zebra!!!) 

1.  Honey Badgers

The skunk is getting props today for several reasons; mostly its incredible ability to stink.  Also respectable is its resemblance to the aforementioned honey badger, which is the king of the animal kingdom.  

-What animal other than the SKUNK can drop a bomb that stinks up 2 miles of interstate highway on an otherwise pleasant road journey?  I submit, none, unless they're dead...Dead animals stink pretty bad.  The real question is, do skunks realize the unholy power they possess?  That stench is terrible.  What if a certain skunk was just a jerk and started spraying people and spraying highly populated recreational areas just for laughs???  We have to hope this never happens.  They could take over the world. Their stink is not worth admiration but it is worth respect.  It is highly unique in the animal kingdom, and it is one of the most distinctive things in the animal world.

-However, just to be clear, skunks like every other animal on the planet, are nowhere near as awesome as honey badgers.  The skunk may have a matching majestic white mullet like the honey badger.  And the skunk may have an incredible and unsatisfiable hankering for honey which drives it to invade live bee hives just like honey badgers.  BUT, have you ever seen a skunk do this:

or this:  

No, no you haven't.  Skunks can not match the honey badger's lust for fear and intimidation.  

 -Welp, see ya later!

I've outdone myself

 When I go out on the town late night, I don't try to pick up girls.  It's not my style. I've never gone home with a girl, and I've never had one come home with me.  I never will, either.  "Hook-ups" are for the birds.  I prefer the circa 1950s model.  Dating.  If you enjoy the dates, hell, you can "go steady."  Anyway, when I'm out and about, I'll talk to everyone in an attempt to either entertain them or entertain myself.  Now, this is not to make an excuse for my awful way with words when it comes to girls.  Rarely, I'll actually meet someone I'd like to get to know better.  When I'm actually serious about trying to get to know someone, I make the same terrible comments, but it's not quiet as entertaining.  I digress.  Let's move on.

My friends have long been entertained by my conversations with the ladies.  At first, I was annoyed because I couldn't talk to any gal without having my friends listen in and giggle like school girls when I unknowingly dropped odd/horrible lines or offended someone without even trying.  One good "friend" said, "watching you talk to girls is one of the most entertaining things I've seen."  This was not a compliment.  He went on, "It's like a train wreck.  Absolutely horrible, but I can't stop watching, and I enjoy it."

I've got good friends.

After a while, I embraced it...maybe a little too much.  I wish I could apologize to some of the girls I used as guinea pigs just to get laughs from friends.  It always started the same way.  I'd spot one, tap my friends on the shoulder or get their attention and say, "watch this."  Then I was off.

Anyway, most of the time, I wasn't consciously trying to get laughs or offend anyone with my comments, but I did.  Here's the short list of lines that didn't come out or work out the way I planned.  I would like to forget them, but my good friends make sure I don't.

-"Hey, you're feet are bigger than mine!  That's interesting."  Reaction:  offended

-"You look really tired. What in the world have you been doing?"  Reaction:  offended

-"Do you like to party?"  Reaction:  frightened

-"Do you speak Spanish?"  Reaction:  speechless

-"I can't dance.  Not at all. If I could, I would ask you to dance.  I can snap my fingers...What's up?"  Reaction:  amused-not in a good way

-"Dannnnng!  Yo, what up?"  Reaction: she said, "Have you ever had a drink poured on your head?"  Reaction to the reaction:  I said "No, but I've been slapped at least 4 or 5 times."  Reaction to the reaction-reaction:  Rolled eyes, walked away (a victory in my opinion).

-And the personal favorite of a couple of my friends:  I was watching "Coneheads" with a girl, and it got to the part where Chris Farley took the conehead girl to the dance or prom or whatever the heck it was.  Then Chris Farley and the conhead started kissing.  So I turned to that poor girl and said, "So--uhh.  You wanna try that?"  Reaction:  Confused-very confused...but we kissed, suckers.  Damn, I'm good. 

-And today, I may have outdone myself.  I was at the gym.  I wasn't even interested in this girl, mind you.  She was at least a half a head taller than me and skinnier than Skeletor.  When I'm at the gym, I rarely talk to anyone because it's the one place where I'm all business.  I want to get in and get out in 50 minutes; casual conversation does not fit in.  But today, I had nowhere to be so I was taking my time.  I was on the stretching mats, which at the gym at Alabama are on the second floor down a long hallway that leads to an emergency exit.  It's adjacent to an indoor track where creeper dudes stare at girls doing ab workouts and stretching.  The girls are justifiably on guard when they're on the mats and I don't blame them.  Now.  I knew this, but for some reason, it didn't strike me that the following comment could have been taken the wrong way.  I was stretching right beside this girl, and all I did was make an observation.  It was not meant to be dirty or sexual, and I wasn't trying to hit on her.  Honest.  I said, "You are really flexible!  That's cool."  Reaction:  she said, "Wow." and got up and walked away.  Skank.

Plants and Pickle-sicles

So here are pictures of the houseplant that refuses to quit.  You know, they actually say that talking to plants helps them grow better.  I heard that nearly everyday when I was landscaping, and there's actually literature to back it up...But, I don't know how true it is when I'm looking at it every morning saying, "Why don't you just hurry up and die so I can add you to the compost pile out back."  Here's a shot of it:

Not too bad from that angle...But:

Tough son of a gun.  I'll give it that.  Oh, and check this out.  I left a pickle from McAlister's Deli in my refrigerator for a couple of weeks.  This is what happened.  OMG, right?  Right? Nobody?  No?

Right after I discovered this petrified pickle, I immediately walked it over to the houseplant and told it, "you're next."

!Choco-Milk Price Alert!

This mainly concerns Tuscaloosa residents; others are encouraged to keep reading for poops and giggles.

I wanted to give a brief report on current choc-milk market prices in Tuscaloosa.  I've been getting shafted until today.  Here's a short list of prices for 1-pint Dairy Fresh Chocolate Milks in the University area (taxes included).

• University dining/library cafes & bistros:   $1.84-absolute travesty, and sometimes they don't have any 
• Exon (or is it Mobil or something else?) on University Blvd. close to gym: $1.54-still too pricey, and they also experience horrid stock-outs occasionally
• Kangaroo on University Blvd. close to gym:  $1.41-getting better, but not even close to the Tuscaloosa Choco-milk Price Champion
• Shell on corner of Hackberry Lane and Black Bear's Way:  $1.08-Woooooo!  Son.  Jackpot. Choco-milk party in T-Town.
• Publix on the strip:  $1.06-Important to note this is the price of Publix's own brand of chocolate milk.  It's not bad.  I put it right up there with Dairy Fresh.  The problem with Publix is that getting in and out of that parking lot makes me want to choke-slam people.

Here's to you, Old Man Winter

With all due respect, and I am saying with all due respect--If you're reading this Old Man Winter, I'd like to pass along a message: go to hell.

This Old House [Plant]

--Shortly after I moved to Alabama last year, a female friend told me something insightful.  She said my apartment looked like a 12-year old boy lived in it because of the sports collectibles and the assortment of toys I keep on hand (they're awesome toys in my opinion).
--But, she was right.  I needed a re-modeling of sorts.  So I added curtains, a couple of delightful lamps, and last but not least, a house plant.  It was real nice-I got it at Wal-mart.  A half gallon bucket within a tiny, hand-painted globe, and a plant that looks something like miniature liriope (aka monkey grass). 
--After about 2 years of landscaping a groundskeeping, a houseplant seemed like an easy task.  The little plastic information thingy sticking out of the soil suggested the same thing:  "Needs some sunlight, temperatures between 45 and 105, occasional watering based on look and touch."  Aight.
--Well, about a year later, I have neglected the house plant and it looks terrible.  If it were a human, it would be in the hospital, and they would have called in the family.  I haven't watered it in about 3 and a half weeks, and honestly I've just been hoping it will die soon.  But it hasn't died.  I think it's staying alive just to spite me.  Seriously, I walk into the kitchen every morning, and it's just staring at me.  Some mornings I think I actually hear it saying, "Look at what you've done to me. Kill me.  Douse me in gasoline or put a black sheet over me."
--I'll post a picture shortly, but let me try to describe it via the use of literary symbols first.  It's once "kelly green glow" is now more or of a "vomit green."  It's once perky leaves now sag terribly and most are wilting with brown tips.  Most hideous of all is a strange fungus or ooze that has developed right on the top of it.  It looks like someone hocked a loogie on my dang plant.  I shouldn't be mad though; it's my fault it looks like absolute crap.
--Anyway, judging from my plant care, I guess it's a good thing I didn't get a dog instead. 

Love at First Stride

"My momma always said you can tell a lot about a person by their shoes, where they go, where they've been. I've worn lots of shoes, I bet if I think about it real hard I can remember my first pair of shoes." -Forrest Gump

When running shoes wear out, it's a quick and ugly process.  The first sign that they're coming apart is also usually one of the last.  Soon after you notice a problem, they're done for.  That's why I'm already beginning to dread the loss of my favorite pair of running shoes to date--these New Balance 719's:
 

I got them in August of 2008, and somehow they're still holding on.  I did some quick math.  Say, I average 10 miles a week...that's 104 weeks from when I bought them to August 2010.  Then, add another 12 or so to get us where we're at now.  So, 116 weeks at an average of 10 miles = 1,160 miles on these guys.  They have absolutely molded to my feet; they're like socks with soles on them.

I'm not partial to many physical objects.  I use to love all of my baseball cards, autographed baseballs, and collectibles, but none of that really means much to me any more.  I also use to love some of my old t-shirts because they reminded me of specific times in my life, but that wore off too.  I'm blessed to have received a different perspective on material things.  This life is a mist; storing up things down here is as silly as roller skating in a buffalo herd.  That's very clear to me these days, and I'm thankful that Jesus has hammered that home to me.

But.  If there is one physical item that gets to me, it's this pair of shoes.  Running is like therapy.  I think about everything when I run:  life in general, my finances, school, the job market when I get out of school, my family, my friends, relationships, my biggest fears, my biggest disappointments, my greatest joys...everything.  I also pray a ton when I run.

They're just shoes, but I feel like they know more about me than anybody else...except God.  Seriously, there are things I think about when I run that I don't tell anybody else.  Maybe I should, but I'm thinking everybody has some things that they like to keep to themselves...not bad things, just things they aren't comfortable talking about with other people.  Or things they're embarrassed to admit to other people, or things that are too sad to get out when talking to other people.  Whatever it may be, I hope I'm not alone here...

Anyway, they're just objects, but I feel like they're the best listeners I've ever had for sure.  I run when I get stressed, upset, mad, or sad.  It's an awesome release.  Eventually, I get to the point where I can't run any more, and then I just walk.  When I get done running, it's like my shoes are asking me, "you feel better?"  And then, I'm like, "yeah, New Balances, I do.  Thanks for asking.  Now get off me, and get back in the closet. We'll see ya' in a couple of days."  .....Maybe a little bit strange or creepy, but that's how it goes down.  Deal with it.

I'm going to miss these guys.  I can see the soles starting to peel off towards the side.  It'll be a long time before I find a pair this awesome.

Out of Context

Today, my Stats class was great. Our professor had some awesome one-liners and he didn't event know it. You see, I pay attention about 67.87% of the time, but the other part of the time, I blackout. So today, during the "blackouts," our professor caught my attention with some seemingly inappropriate comments.
The first one that caused me to take notice was this:

"You know what?  I just hate relationships that aren't straight.  They make me sick." 

Now, originally I thought this was some deep South rhetoric against homosexuals.  But upon asking my classmates for clarification, he was just talking about scatter plots that had curved distributions. He wanted them straight so he could set a model for them.  I'll take their word it.

Next, I heard this gem:

"You just throw some stuff in the front, then do some work, and blow it out the other end."

I really wish he meant exactly what I thought he meant, because I would vote him professor of the century.  Anyway, if you don't think that quote's funny, then 1 of 2 things are happening.  1.  You are more mature than me (highly, HIGHLY likely) or 2.  You have a "crappy" sense of humor...

Rolling With the Tide: How we wound up in Columbia, SC. Quite an Unlikely Party

Guess what? I don't wait for parties to show up.  I make parties happen.  If you remember one thing, remember that.

I didn't think it was possible to go two days without sleep.  Honestly didn't.  But I just did it this weekend.  Never want to do it again.  Never, ever. BUT, it was well worth it this time.

People say stuff about having no sleep all the time: "I haven't slept all week!"  "I didn't sleep at all last night!" etc.  Most of the time, these people have had at least minimal shut-eye.  They're engaging in hyperbole, if you will.

On Friday night though, me and my friend, Frank started what would be the most intense, party packed, college-football infused, sleepless weekend bashes imaginable.

On most Fridays, I start getting Eric Church songs stuck in my head, and I have to get to a bar for at least one or two "cold, cold beers."  As the former manager of the Burlington Indians, Kevin Higgins often told me, "it's nice to break down the week or break down a day over a beer."  True dat.

 This Friday was no different.  Met up with Frank and another friend, Ryan at the Houndstooth for a couple rounds to celebrate the end of another good week.

At this point, it's necessary to explain the fact that I get these "ideas" all the time that are a little bit out there.  Like Butch from the movie "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," I'm thinking all the time.  That's what I'm good at.  Thinking.  Doing? Not as often.  But man, I've got these ideas.  I'd love to tell you some of them.  Just ask me for one.  Seriously.  Set aside 5-minutes, though

Anyway, I heard tell of a good friend in Columbia, SC that was having a bachelor party this weekend...The Tide just happened to be playing South Carolina the same weekend, so I thought it might be nice to shout at them real quick and catch the game.  Either way, it just made me start thinking about the feasibility of getting to and from Columbia and back.  Generally you want to plan these things in advance, and generally you would have wanted to head to Columbia earlier in the day. But, I threw the idea out to Ryan and Frank, and all three of us laughed it off.  At first. 

At about midnight, I threw it out there again.  I wasn't standing for another weekend of marginal fun.  Didn't want to sit around waiting for something awesome to happen.  This time, I could see it in both of their eyes.  We were on to something.  Phone calls and texts started to be made.  We began to get preliminary market value figures on tickets, and the next thing you know at 12:30 am on Friday night, we're talking about how soon we can leave.  Frank said, "I'm going home to pack.  We can't waist any more time.  If we're going, we need to get on it.  If not, I'll just go to bed."  Ryan and his gal, Kelsey understandably opted out.  I went back home and was about to get in bed.  Then I thought about how awesome spontaneous things are.  You really nail it if you do something you didn't even expect.  You know how some girls talk about liking dudes that are "spontaneous"?  Those girls better watch their mouths around me, because I will blow their freaking minds. I don't even know what I'm going to do most of the time.  Just imagine how in the dark everyone else is.  Anyway, I called Frank and said, "let's do this."  He said, "O.K. let's go.  Are you serious?"  "Yeah, I'm dead serious.  I'm serious if you are."  Frank then responded, "I'm packed. I've been serious."

The rest is history.  We left Tuscaloosa at 1:30 am CT, and arrived in Columbia around 9:30 am ET.  Tailgated all day with some awesome Alabama randos, and went to the game at 3:30 ET.  Got back to Tuscaloosa at 1:30 am this morning.  Hadn't had sleep since Thursday night.  Stupid?  Yeah.  Poorly planned?  Absolutely.  Worst idea we've ever had?  Close.  Simultaneously the best idea we've ever had?  Yeah, I think so.  And yes, Alabama lost and South Carolina won.  But guess who else won? We did.  Suckers.

So long, summer. I love you. More than you'll ever know

It's finally over. Summer has come and gone. We'll occasionally get the day in the upper 80s, maybe 90s...In October, we'll probably get an "Indian Summer" where it's hot for a whole week.  But, for all intensive purposes, it's gone.  This is always the saddest part of the year for me because I love Spring and Summer so much.  For the last time this year, I would like to share my favorite movie clip of all time:



To see the pools closing and the grass turning brown just kills me.  And the temperatures...What can I say? I get cold easily.  I'm just a wittle guy.  My entire family is small.  Maybe we're descendants of South American rain forest tree house dwellers. Alabama was suppose to solve the cold weather dilemma for me, but I think I'll have to keep moving south.  Jackets don't belong in my wardrobe.  Neither do scarfs, winter hats, or mittens. Either way, I've got my eyes on some warmer locals...Looking at you, New Zealand.

Having fewer hours of daylight stinks.  Having to bundle up in 5 layers (Charlie Jones can attest to this) stinks. Being an even pastier white dude with the lack of sufficient sun rays, stinks.

Yeah, the Holidays are alright.  College football is cool.  But i prefer swimming pools, road trips, baseball games, tank tops, and sunglasses.

I'll get over this.  I always do.  But it will take time.  About 6 months to be exact.   

The day I met Dick Vitale

 
You know how lots of people love to say, "I don't really get star struck."  I'm not going to blatantly lie to your face and say that.  Famous people occasionally give me pause.

When I was reporting on the UNC basketball team 2 years ago, I ran into lots of sports celebs, and if I would have had a camera phone at the time, I would have clicked some pics.  Among others, I met:  Roy Williams, all the UNC basketball players, Phil Ford, Coach K (loser), Gary Williams (Maryland), Andy Katz (ESPN), Seth Davis (CBS), and Erin Andrews.  These were brief encounters.  Don't get me wrong; I wasn't partying with these people.  Actually, I was...They just didn't know it.

Anyway, I also met Dick Vitale.  This was not a brief encounter.  I feel like I know him very well now...Too well, maybe.  He came to broadcast a couple of games in Chapel Hill in 2008-2009, and I had seen him already, but on the night Clemson came to town, I got to meet the man, the myth, the legend.

Aight, so it was halftime, and I needed to use the restroom, so I made my way into the UNC media room bathroom.  It is not an adequate facility.  2 stalls for about 50 users.  I go in there and hear what sounds like a man in serious pain.  It sounded like a dude was A) constipated B) giving birth C) doing an intense workout in the stall or D) dying.  All I heard was "ohhhhhaahhhhwhoaaa!!!  Oh!  OOOOOOOO!"  Needless to say, I was confused.


So, like any good man...I ignored it, and acted like nothing was happening.  I do my thing, and get ready to wash my hands.  Next thing I know, I hear "Woo!" and out of door number 2 walks Dick Vitale.  Awesome.
It was just me and him.  Mano y mano.  He exclaimed with excitement:  "I BEEN HOLDING IT ALL DAY, BABY!!!!"  Incredible.  I laughed loudly.  Mind you, Dick Vitale doesn't know me from Adam.  Then--without washing his hands--he puts his right hand on my back, gives me 2 pats and 2 shoulder squeezes.  Awesome.  Gross. But awesome.  I'm now drying my hands, and I left the water running because I thought to myself, "Dick Vitale will wash his hands now, so I will leave this faucet running to impress and befriend him."

Instead of immediately jumping to the sink, he just stands there and says, "how's it going?"  I said, "just hanging out at the Dean Dome and getting paid for it.  Another day at the office.  You?"  His face lit up.  And then, just like he was reading from his own quote book, he said, "Oh, what an office!  What an office!  How lucky are we?  We get paid for this?  Are you serious? ARE YOU SERIOUS?  Incredible!"  I immediately thought, "you get paid a lot more than me, but I'll buy that."  This was an unbelievable conversation, and I wasn't taking it for granted, but I was still thinking that any second, Dick Vitale is going to wash his hands.  I mean, the faucet was still running... 

At this point, I'm completely done but I'm just standing there.  With my hands in my pockets.  In the bathroom.  Talking to Dick Vitale.  NBD. 

Finally, he steps up to the sink.  He puts both hands in the running water.  Clearly I'm thinking, "there it is!  It's hand-washing time for Dickey V!!!"  Instead of reaching for the soap, he wets his hands and puts them on top of his bald head...."IT'S HOT IN HERE!  GOTTA COOL OFF!  LITTLE SPLASH WILL FIX IT.  THIS BALD HEAD GETS HOT!  YOU GOT HAIR.  HOW HOT ARE YOU?"

I didn't know what to say.  So, I didn't say anything.  I gave him a confirmatory nod with my lower lip protruding.

He then wiped his unclean hands on his pants.  "Nice talking with you.  Enjoy the office!" he said.  Then, he walked out.  If this story were a western, he would have rode off into the sunset.  I never saw him again.  So long Dick Vitale.  So long. 

Wash your hands. 

Save the Date

I've got a "Save the Date" more important than any magnetic wedding announcement on your fridge...

July 4, 2076.  The frickin' tricentennial, baby.  Simple math tells us that most of us probably won't make it to the tricentennial.  Dates of birth, life styles and life choices make the likelihood for some much less than for others.  For me, it's the only thing that would be cool about being 91years old.  I give myself a near 0 % chance of making it that far, but if I do, I'm going to set off enough fireworks to singe everyone's eyebrows within a 2-mile radius.  

As a fan of America, the reasons for getting pumped about this date should go without saying.  But aside from celebrating 300 years of independence from those pricks on the other side of the pond, I'm curious to see what fantastic coinage the US mint thinks up to celebrate the event.  Of course, the United States may not exist in 2076, but if it does, you can guarantee the mint is going to be busy. 

In 1975, the US mint had three separate $5,000 prizes up for grabs for whoever could come up with the best designs for the bicentennial quarter, half dollar, and silver dollar.  Jack L. Ahr submitted the design of the colonial drummer for the bicentennial quarter.  Fantastic.  Maybe I'll submit an idea for the tricentennial quarter design way ahead of time in hopes of winning a prize for that contest.  You know, something classy and American like Dale Earnhardt Sr. driving the number 3 Goodwrench car with an outstretched hand and a middle finger directed at an etching of Great Britain.  Who knows?  I'll keep working on it.   

Kitty Cat Nightmare

Last night I had a nightmare about cats.  I woke up, and after I had time to calm down from a feline frenzy, I laughed it off thinking, "this is going to seem so silly and funny later on." 

Well, right now I'm still thinking that dream was flipping scary.  In the dream, I was just hanging out in some old house, and three gangly cats came in looking for trouble.  I was like, "oh, look, little kitties.  N.B.D."  But then they started attacking me.  One bit my ankle, one bit me on my thigh, and one bit my arm.  None of them would let go, and then they started scratching me.  Awful.  Just awful.  Finally I shook them off, and they ran away, but then an animal control dude came out of nowhere and was like, "Yeah, you've got rabies now.  We're going to have to take you in".....

And then I woke up. 

The only reason I can think of for having a bad dream about cats is that 3 out of the last 4 mornings that I ran, black cats ran out in front of me.  I'm not superstitious, but still, it was odd and mildly creepy. 

Welp, that's all I've got.  If you didn't think I was weird before, you probably do now.  You know what?  Everybody's weird.  C-ya later

Nothing beats an entertaining lunatic

99.99 % of the time, pop up advertisements are a waist of my time and anything but entertaining.  But sometimes, advertising agencies with deep pockets convince lunatics with histories of brain damage and drug use to do a commercial for an online marketing blitz.  The result is a masterpiece by Vitamin Water starring Gary Busey.  The easiest way for someone to act convincingly like a wild psycho is to actually be one.  Bravo, Gary Busey.  This is Oscar-worthy stuff:



This is quickly becoming my favorite commercial of all time.  Homeboy makes a donkey noise at the :58 second mark.  Gary Busey reminds us all to never ride motorcycles too fast or without helmets, and to never try crack.  Thank you, Gary Busey.  And thank you Vitamin Water.

Found it

The navy Duckhead shirt was resting comfortably beneath my navy suit jacket.  Sometimes, my favorite shirt plays games with me like this.  Oh, navy Duckhead, how I love you.  Playing hide and go seek and what not, just because you think it's funny when I get worked up. 

While my shirt is safe and sound, I would like my previous post to serve as a warning.  To summarize quickly:

~If you tread on my navy Duckhead,  remember what I said, 'cause you'll end up dead.~

 In other news, there is a dude in the library right now 5 computers down who is eating a muffin of some sort, and he keeps looking at me like I'm an FBI agent out to get him or something.  He's about 5'3" and probably ways 120 pounds dripping wet.  He has bug-eyes and thick glasses.  Apparently, my presence makes him uncomfortable which in turn makes me uncomfortable which in turn makes this whole dang thing uncomfortable.