Sunday, September 30, 2007
Welcome to Walmart!!!
Generally speaking, I make it a habit to avoid shopping at Walmart. But every so often, for whatever reason, I find myself dodging loose carts, fat people and apparently orphaned children as I search their lot for a parking space. I had to go 2 times in the past week, here is a brief description of my visit.
9/22/07 9:30 am – Parking lot ridiculously full. Looking for a mini fridge for a gift. To their credit Wal-Mart did stock the item. After getting a few related items I made my way to the check out lane. There were like 3 lanes out of the 25 open. I picked what looked to be the shortest one.
The lady was rather large, and had a cart full of frozen pizza’s, ho-ho’s, chips and like 3 cases of diet coke. The Diet Coke was key, I was glad to see she was watching the calories. As she went through the line, her jabba-eyes peered closely at the register. That’s when I realized how bad of a decision I made. Little did I know that Wal-mart has a price-match guarantee. This lady however, was very aware. Like an NFL coach with unlimited challenges, she threw the red flag at almost every other item, and then would pull a stack of competitive ads out from under her slab-like arms and spend 5 minutes searching for the proof, saving pennies with each successful throw of the flag. I thought, “Hmmm… maybe all those pennies she’s saving go into a piggy bank to fund that triple bypass and the diabetes monitor she’s going to need after eating the contents of that cart.” I almost wanted to just hand her $10.00, which would be twice what she had saved to get her to move on.
“Here, take this. Get your ass out of my line, and consider buying a jump rope and a cook book.”
It took me 5 minutes to find and take my items to the checklane, it took me 30 minutes in the lane…I was the second person in line. You would think, I’d be done with Walmart for a while, but 7 days later, I find myself back inside.
This time, we were burning a gift card.
9/29/07 2:30pm – Cars circling everywhere like vultures looking for a carcass to land on. We parked in the next county, and hiked in.
On entering, it was like we walked into a dysfunctional anthill. People swarmed everywhere, up and down every aisle and row in the store. But instead of the orderly, efficient movement of ants, it was total chaos. Kids were darting in and out of traffic. Five people blocked an entire aisle while they tried to choose from 15 different toasters all at $9.99. People drove carts down the wrong sides of the rows. Others wandered aimlessly, shell-shocked and apparently unable to process the size of the store, or perhaps the savings. They just stumbled through the store, trance-like, their small heads on a swivel. People, People, People Everywhere! It was a social experience, whole gaggles of people, whole extended families team-shopping. All stopping and clustering around a display, blocking the aisle, bringing traffic to a complete stop.
Somewhere Sam Walton was having a post-mortem orgasm.
We were blocked at every turn, stuck behind people moving at glacial speed down every row. We got lost once trying to find cotton balls. I almost had a panic attack. We put less than 20 items in our cart, all located in different area codes within the same store. By the end I was gritting my teeth as I ambled behind an Extended Crew Cab Ford-load of shoppers as we slowly worked our way to the register.
I’m writing this to remind myself not to go there again. If you’re reading this, consider this a public safety notice. It could happen to you or me or anyone. We could wind up like those poor souls just wandering, our minds overcome by a whirl of smiley faced icons, blue vests and people in denim. We could go in, and never come out. We would shuffle together, and occasionally mumble, “Look at all those toasters…they’re only $9.99!”
9/22/07 9:30 am – Parking lot ridiculously full. Looking for a mini fridge for a gift. To their credit Wal-Mart did stock the item. After getting a few related items I made my way to the check out lane. There were like 3 lanes out of the 25 open. I picked what looked to be the shortest one.
The lady was rather large, and had a cart full of frozen pizza’s, ho-ho’s, chips and like 3 cases of diet coke. The Diet Coke was key, I was glad to see she was watching the calories. As she went through the line, her jabba-eyes peered closely at the register. That’s when I realized how bad of a decision I made. Little did I know that Wal-mart has a price-match guarantee. This lady however, was very aware. Like an NFL coach with unlimited challenges, she threw the red flag at almost every other item, and then would pull a stack of competitive ads out from under her slab-like arms and spend 5 minutes searching for the proof, saving pennies with each successful throw of the flag. I thought, “Hmmm… maybe all those pennies she’s saving go into a piggy bank to fund that triple bypass and the diabetes monitor she’s going to need after eating the contents of that cart.” I almost wanted to just hand her $10.00, which would be twice what she had saved to get her to move on.
“Here, take this. Get your ass out of my line, and consider buying a jump rope and a cook book.”
It took me 5 minutes to find and take my items to the checklane, it took me 30 minutes in the lane…I was the second person in line. You would think, I’d be done with Walmart for a while, but 7 days later, I find myself back inside.
This time, we were burning a gift card.
9/29/07 2:30pm – Cars circling everywhere like vultures looking for a carcass to land on. We parked in the next county, and hiked in.
On entering, it was like we walked into a dysfunctional anthill. People swarmed everywhere, up and down every aisle and row in the store. But instead of the orderly, efficient movement of ants, it was total chaos. Kids were darting in and out of traffic. Five people blocked an entire aisle while they tried to choose from 15 different toasters all at $9.99. People drove carts down the wrong sides of the rows. Others wandered aimlessly, shell-shocked and apparently unable to process the size of the store, or perhaps the savings. They just stumbled through the store, trance-like, their small heads on a swivel. People, People, People Everywhere! It was a social experience, whole gaggles of people, whole extended families team-shopping. All stopping and clustering around a display, blocking the aisle, bringing traffic to a complete stop.
Somewhere Sam Walton was having a post-mortem orgasm.
We were blocked at every turn, stuck behind people moving at glacial speed down every row. We got lost once trying to find cotton balls. I almost had a panic attack. We put less than 20 items in our cart, all located in different area codes within the same store. By the end I was gritting my teeth as I ambled behind an Extended Crew Cab Ford-load of shoppers as we slowly worked our way to the register.
I’m writing this to remind myself not to go there again. If you’re reading this, consider this a public safety notice. It could happen to you or me or anyone. We could wind up like those poor souls just wandering, our minds overcome by a whirl of smiley faced icons, blue vests and people in denim. We could go in, and never come out. We would shuffle together, and occasionally mumble, “Look at all those toasters…they’re only $9.99!”
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Its Monday Night....do you know where YOUR Special Teams are??
My dog is an unrepentant eater of feces. She will jauntily come towards me with her tail wagging, her tongue lolling and with a big dog grin on her face. By the time I realize what she's been doing, it is too late and her repugnant poop-breath surrounds me. Not only does she do it, but she relishes in it, and she wants me to know it. She's eaten crap a long time, she's never stopped eating crap, but when she walks towards me all smiling...I fall for it every time!
You may be thinking, "OK Chris, where are you going with this?"
Much like my dog, The Bengals have sucked for a long time. They've sucked less the past few years, but we've always been just "this" close to winning. We've always played exciting games, that came down to "a handful of plays." The Bengals have been learning to finish games since they lost their last Super Bowl appearance. Thinking rationally, one begins to suspect they may never learn. But here comes Sunday, and my jersey beckons from my bottom dresser drawer. I try to ignore it, I look the other way, put my hands over my ears. But in the end I put it on, and I take my seat in the stands or in front of the TV and hope that this time, things will be different. This play, this game...this season will be different. I fall for it every time!!!
This Monday Night, we take on the the 3-0 Patriots. A team with a league leading defense, and a bookend league leading offense. Brady, Moss, Junior Seau and a host of others all guided by the future Hall of Famer Bill Belicheat. They are the the gold standard, they represent what the Bengals want to be and they showed us how far we had still to go when they thumped us last year at PBS.
We're banged up, our special teams have been terrible all year, our defense inconsistent, our offense unable to compensate and/or keep up. If you looked at the schedule at the beginning of the year, we would say 2-2 would be a good ending record after the 1st 4 games, and after laying an eg g in Cleveland and Seattle...we need this game. So sit down and take notice as I give you the reason why the Bengals will win this game. Simply stated, Tom Brady cannot be allowed to sleep with Gisele and remain undefeated, it is not acceptable, the Football Gods will smote him for reaching too high and Cincinnati will move to 2 and 2.
I will see you at the game,Who-Dey!
You may be thinking, "OK Chris, where are you going with this?"
Much like my dog, The Bengals have sucked for a long time. They've sucked less the past few years, but we've always been just "this" close to winning. We've always played exciting games, that came down to "a handful of plays." The Bengals have been learning to finish games since they lost their last Super Bowl appearance. Thinking rationally, one begins to suspect they may never learn. But here comes Sunday, and my jersey beckons from my bottom dresser drawer. I try to ignore it, I look the other way, put my hands over my ears. But in the end I put it on, and I take my seat in the stands or in front of the TV and hope that this time, things will be different. This play, this game...this season will be different. I fall for it every time!!!
This Monday Night, we take on the the 3-0 Patriots. A team with a league leading defense, and a bookend league leading offense. Brady, Moss, Junior Seau and a host of others all guided by the future Hall of Famer Bill Belicheat. They are the the gold standard, they represent what the Bengals want to be and they showed us how far we had still to go when they thumped us last year at PBS.
We're banged up, our special teams have been terrible all year, our defense inconsistent, our offense unable to compensate and/or keep up. If you looked at the schedule at the beginning of the year, we would say 2-2 would be a good ending record after the 1st 4 games, and after laying an eg g in Cleveland and Seattle...we need this game. So sit down and take notice as I give you the reason why the Bengals will win this game. Simply stated, Tom Brady cannot be allowed to sleep with Gisele and remain undefeated, it is not acceptable, the Football Gods will smote him for reaching too high and Cincinnati will move to 2 and 2.
I will see you at the game,Who-Dey!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Browns Wrap Up and Advice for Chuckie....
It was a treacherous, topsy turvy week in the NFL. The 49ers beat Seattle. The Redskins beat Philly. New Orleans was sacked by the Buccaneers. But the most painful of all, was the stunning defeat of my beloved Bengals by the Cleveland Browns.
Derek Anderson, just days ago voted most likely to be replaced in the second half is now on the verge of being voted AFC Player of the week. Our defense which shut down the Ravens in that delightful Monday night game, had more holes than a donut factory 6 days later. Our Special Teams for the second week in a row, was decidedly un-special. Our Special Teams Coach, Darrin Simmons, still has Joshua Cribb’s cleat prints on his forehead.
Marvin Lewis, never chatty with the media, was even more terse and dismissive during this week’s press conference. He basically boiled down the loss to 5 plays. I could put 5 plays on rookie Leon Hall’s tab alone. Our Defense looked so ugly, it was like watching Romeo Crennel at a Golden Corral. Oh…the carnage! Missed assignments, un-plugged gaps, failure to execute the… list goes on and on.
To make matters worse, this week we head to Seattle. Home of the 12th man, and one of the NFC’s leading offenses. Carson and company showed they can keep the pace with 6 touchdown passes in a losing effort, but will the defense even get off the plane??? My wish list for Defensive Coordinator Chuck Breshnehan and the girl scout troop posing as an NFL defense:
1) Show Up. (first things first…)
2) Put the Cookies away, ( No Shaun Alexander doesn’t want a Thin Mint)
3) In fact, Hit Alexander in the mouth
4) Hit Hasselbeck in the mouth
5) Hit Deion Branch in the mouth
6) Hit anyone with a blue helmet….in the mouth.
Moreen is in 1st place for the week. No Thursday game so get your picks in by Saturday….Tyrell!
Derek Anderson, just days ago voted most likely to be replaced in the second half is now on the verge of being voted AFC Player of the week. Our defense which shut down the Ravens in that delightful Monday night game, had more holes than a donut factory 6 days later. Our Special Teams for the second week in a row, was decidedly un-special. Our Special Teams Coach, Darrin Simmons, still has Joshua Cribb’s cleat prints on his forehead.
Marvin Lewis, never chatty with the media, was even more terse and dismissive during this week’s press conference. He basically boiled down the loss to 5 plays. I could put 5 plays on rookie Leon Hall’s tab alone. Our Defense looked so ugly, it was like watching Romeo Crennel at a Golden Corral. Oh…the carnage! Missed assignments, un-plugged gaps, failure to execute the… list goes on and on.
To make matters worse, this week we head to Seattle. Home of the 12th man, and one of the NFC’s leading offenses. Carson and company showed they can keep the pace with 6 touchdown passes in a losing effort, but will the defense even get off the plane??? My wish list for Defensive Coordinator Chuck Breshnehan and the girl scout troop posing as an NFL defense:
1) Show Up. (first things first…)
2) Put the Cookies away, ( No Shaun Alexander doesn’t want a Thin Mint)
3) In fact, Hit Alexander in the mouth
4) Hit Hasselbeck in the mouth
5) Hit Deion Branch in the mouth
6) Hit anyone with a blue helmet….in the mouth.
Moreen is in 1st place for the week. No Thursday game so get your picks in by Saturday….Tyrell!
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Don't Be This Guy!!
On the way to a friend's house yesterday I witnessed the self-expression of a complete asshole as embodied in his vehicle. Carefully review my description and make sure that a) you're not this guy and b) you aren't friends with him.
If you look in the mirror and realize I am describing you, my only advice is to pull a George Costanza (props to Yiz). You obviously cannot trust your own judgement, so do the exact opposite of your natural inclinations.
If this is your friend, plan and immediately stage an intervention. Its for his own good.
The desciption as follows:
Huge Red, Two Wheels on the Back-Axle havin' diesel smoke belching, Dodge Truck.
Massive Trailer Hitch made to haul a battleship??
Hitch festooned with flesh colored dangling latex balls the size of apples. So its a boy truck...I would have never guessed!
Masonic Lodge license plate. If anyone ever tells me theMasons rule the world, I will use this guy as exhibit A of why they don't.
Heavily Tinted Rear Window.
Harley Davidson Eagle Logo Sticker in Right Rear Window. This always confuses me. I am driving a truck, but I want you all to know, I am also a bad ass biker.
Finally, the last straw. In the left (driver's side window) was a 12 inch "Shocker" symbol. For those of you who do not know what this is, its a hand held palm in, with fingers and thumb held together and extended, wth the ring finger bent in at the knuckle. (Do a Google search). Lets just say the extended pinky finger and the extended index and middle finger are supposed to align and be inserted with corresponding holes in the female body. I don't even have to comment on the type of person who would post this sticker prominently on his car, behind his head.
Final summation, the testosterone machine this guy was driving either compensated for
A) A penis the size of a tinker toy or
B) An inescapable addiction to web based gay porn, or I suppose
C) He is a complete asshole.
You decide.
If you look in the mirror and realize I am describing you, my only advice is to pull a George Costanza (props to Yiz). You obviously cannot trust your own judgement, so do the exact opposite of your natural inclinations.
If this is your friend, plan and immediately stage an intervention. Its for his own good.
The desciption as follows:
Huge Red, Two Wheels on the Back-Axle havin' diesel smoke belching, Dodge Truck.
Massive Trailer Hitch made to haul a battleship??
Hitch festooned with flesh colored dangling latex balls the size of apples. So its a boy truck...I would have never guessed!
Masonic Lodge license plate. If anyone ever tells me theMasons rule the world, I will use this guy as exhibit A of why they don't.
Heavily Tinted Rear Window.
Harley Davidson Eagle Logo Sticker in Right Rear Window. This always confuses me. I am driving a truck, but I want you all to know, I am also a bad ass biker.
Finally, the last straw. In the left (driver's side window) was a 12 inch "Shocker" symbol. For those of you who do not know what this is, its a hand held palm in, with fingers and thumb held together and extended, wth the ring finger bent in at the knuckle. (Do a Google search). Lets just say the extended pinky finger and the extended index and middle finger are supposed to align and be inserted with corresponding holes in the female body. I don't even have to comment on the type of person who would post this sticker prominently on his car, behind his head.
Final summation, the testosterone machine this guy was driving either compensated for
A) A penis the size of a tinker toy or
B) An inescapable addiction to web based gay porn, or I suppose
C) He is a complete asshole.
You decide.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Rick's Moving to Vegas
One of my best friends since high school appears to be on the verge of a dream come true, or atleast a start at making a dream come true, by joining another good friend as part of the crew for one of the Cirque shows. The following is the series of texts when I got the news today:
Carus: The boy was just given the unofficial nod. Who Dey my good buddy!
Me: That's awesome. Does he know yet?
Carus: Yep. Texted all Fools at the same time....
Me: When's it become official? I am so happy for him.
Carus: Monday. I think it will be good for him and maybe even more for April. Maybe she will find something that will be more fulfilling.
Me: Rick is kinda small. I barely walk funny after.
Carus: Thats why she needs to find some Injun. Those natives have the big cocks. Custer didn't die from the Arrows.
Me: No doubt. More like I Left My Bone at Wounded Knee
I will miss Rick, just like I miss Carus. But if it means I get 2x the ridiculous text messages. I might be in. Plus is gives me 2 more reasons to go to Vegas. And I loooooove Vegas.
Carus: The boy was just given the unofficial nod. Who Dey my good buddy!
Me: That's awesome. Does he know yet?
Carus: Yep. Texted all Fools at the same time....
Me: When's it become official? I am so happy for him.
Carus: Monday. I think it will be good for him and maybe even more for April. Maybe she will find something that will be more fulfilling.
Me: Rick is kinda small. I barely walk funny after.
Carus: Thats why she needs to find some Injun. Those natives have the big cocks. Custer didn't die from the Arrows.
Me: No doubt. More like I Left My Bone at Wounded Knee
I will miss Rick, just like I miss Carus. But if it means I get 2x the ridiculous text messages. I might be in. Plus is gives me 2 more reasons to go to Vegas. And I loooooove Vegas.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Things seen in the 305 Monday Night
The first game of the season is always special. When the 1st regular season game is also a Monday night....you know its going to be on. We sit in a pretty rowdy section, which is good, because my wife and I fit right in, but I knew it would be extra special.
Some things seen:
d) All of the above
The Correct answer is all of the above.
Some things seen:
- A girl in a 84 jersey and a bright orange bob wig flashed the crowd a couple times before being tossed. While I didn't see her, I saw a group of guys we refer to as the felons chanting "Show your tits!," while raising their shirts to expose their pasty, bloated, beer-nurtured hairy bellies and corresponding man-boobs. The closer was when the head felon disappeared and came back with her wig....which he wore the rest of the night.
- (Pick One) The guy in front of me at one point got so excited he:
a) Fell over and knocked over my beer.
b) Ripped off his jersey in a burst of euphoria and began windmilling it madly, striking me, my wife and anyone within a 4ft radius.
c) He started finishing my signature cheersd) All of the above
The Correct answer is all of the above.
- The "Dirty Stinking Cheaters" cheer is catching on, with several fans participating. I feel like Jim Jones...soon I will prepare the Kool-Aid.
- My section name is apparently "Malkovich" as in John the actor, my very first nickname. It started last year and has survived the off season so I think its official. I don't know why.
- On seeing my Pregnant Wife, King of the Felons reached out his hand and gently patted my wife's belly and asked with a huge grin, " Look at Malkovich's Old Lady! What have you been doing during the off season?!"
- I replied with a leer, some swagger and wink, "That's right." Then I thrust my hips forward a couple times....not really but it would have bee funnier if I did.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
The noise last night was deafening. The hits were devastating, with players from both teams leaving the field battered and bruised. But perhaps the biggest hit of all, the most satisfying smash, was the one that Peter King and the rest of the National Media took right in the mouth when the Cincinnati Defense caused at least 5 turnovers and our offense put enough points on the board to outscore the geriatric Raven offense and beat their much respected (and feared) defense. So many questions surrounded the Bengals heading into Monday Night: Does Cincinnati even have a defense? Who is Cincinnati’s number 3 receiver? Who’s their 3rd down back? I have a question for you Peter King, Jay Glazer and company: Who’s your Daddy Now…and do you have the balls to admit you might be wrong?
With a goal line stand that lasted for what seemed like hours and where the Ravens had at least 8 shots at the end zone, our Defense stood up and made a statement. Marvin was almost giddy at the post game conference. Michael Myers and his diving end zone interception officially marked the transition that has been 3 years in the making.
This morning workers were cleaning the stadium, players reported for treatment and deep in the bowels of Paul Brown Stadium, a lone man carefully wrapped a package. In the box, he placed the entire decade of the 90’s. He put photos of Coslet, Lebeau, Shula. He placed in Warrick’s number 80, and then Klingler, Akili and Ki-Jana’s jerseys all barely used, all carefully folded. Finally on top he placed the well worn cloak of futility that draped this franchise for oh so many years. He carefully sealed the box, and addressed it to the next worst franchise in football: The Cleveland Browns, c/o Phil Savage. It was originally addressed to Romeo Crennel, but it’s likely he may not be there when the box arrives. The last thing in the box was a small note signed by Mike Brown, "Dear Browns: Thanks for firing my Dad. Karma Sucks! See you next week!"
With a goal line stand that lasted for what seemed like hours and where the Ravens had at least 8 shots at the end zone, our Defense stood up and made a statement. Marvin was almost giddy at the post game conference. Michael Myers and his diving end zone interception officially marked the transition that has been 3 years in the making.
This morning workers were cleaning the stadium, players reported for treatment and deep in the bowels of Paul Brown Stadium, a lone man carefully wrapped a package. In the box, he placed the entire decade of the 90’s. He put photos of Coslet, Lebeau, Shula. He placed in Warrick’s number 80, and then Klingler, Akili and Ki-Jana’s jerseys all barely used, all carefully folded. Finally on top he placed the well worn cloak of futility that draped this franchise for oh so many years. He carefully sealed the box, and addressed it to the next worst franchise in football: The Cleveland Browns, c/o Phil Savage. It was originally addressed to Romeo Crennel, but it’s likely he may not be there when the box arrives. The last thing in the box was a small note signed by Mike Brown, "Dear Browns: Thanks for firing my Dad. Karma Sucks! See you next week!"
Monday Night
I knew it was going to be a good day when I looked out to the tailgating area outside of Paul Brown and saw the Storm Trooper walking up the sidewalk. For those who haven't seen him, the Storm Trooper is a Bengals Season Ticket Holder who comes to big games dressed in a bright Bengal Orange painted Star Wars style Storm Trooper Outfit. I knew it was going to be a great day when I saw what was coming down the same sidewalk from the other direction. Bearing straight towards the Storm Trooper is a tall, large man, dressed in a purple unitard, the spandex working overtime to contain his beer belly. He wore a pair of black Speedos overtop, and what I hope was a sock stuffed inside. He had on black knee high boots, a silken purple cape and a matching mask. It was.... Super Raven??? It was like He-Man meeting Skeletor in Castle Grayskull's kitchen or Batman bumping into the Joker at a cocktail party. There was suprise, a wary examination of the other, and then finally an admission of mutual admiration. They stood there, arm in arm and posed for pictures before man hugging and heading towards their seats. Kickoff was in 30 minutes, and looking back, the only thing that could have made it better, was if they got into a fight in the stands later and it wound up on National TV. Sadly, apparently that never happened.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
