O.K. I know its been a while since my last posting, but I've been busy. For the four of you that read this, you may recall the last "quirky" thing I tried (straight razor shaving) in an attempt to save money. Needless to say, it was disastrous. This time, I am trying to save the planet by using reusable bags.
Its seems like a very simple thing. Use these canvas bags, so you eliminate the need for environmentally harmful plastic bags. Theory and practice, though are always two different things.
Attempt 1: On the way the store. Arrive and get a great spot near the door. Not the far door, but the one closest to the liquor store. Proximity to the liquor store is key. I get out, get a cart and realize I forgot the bags. I turn around, go back to the car and decide to save the planet next week. This spot is too damn good.
Attempt 2: I actually make it the store with the bags. A crappy spot, but I have the bags. I do my usual shopping. The first problem I encounter is where to keep the stupid things. I have my daughter in the kid area and food in the cart. I settle for the bottom, but they keep falling off. Then I get to the checkout lane...
I actually thought this part out. I've seen how these motley collection disinterested teens, retirees and Jerry's Kids bag normally and I knew they would need all the help the could get. I actually offloaded my cart in the following order: Plastic bottles, jugs and cans, followed by all boxed, non squash able goods, meat, produce, bread and chips. I passed my 5 sacks down to the baggers, who looked at them like they were recently pulled from a men's urinal.
I encouraged them, " Hey, I'm trying to save the planet. The bags will carry a lot of weight though so load them up....by the way I also sorted the groceries for you so it will be easier to bag..."
No response.
What ensued was what always happens, they put 2-4 items in each bag, regardless of smashability, packability or my well though out system. They then used 14 more plastic bags to handle the rest. My personal favorite was when they sarcastically double bagged a roll of paper towels and a lime. It was their little way of saying, "Fuck you....and Fuck the Planet, I get paid $5.00 an hour, which simply isn't enough to motivate me to help you with your meaningless attempt at Being Green..."
Attempt Three: Not one to be fooled twice, I tell the waiting baggers "OK why don't you guys take a smoke break and I will bag these on my own." The cashier smiles and begins ringing groceries at an inhuman pace. My neatly organized supplies are smashed in an in comprehensive heap as I scramble to keep up. I see the scowls from the people in line behind me. By the end I am frantically stuffing whatever I can grab into the nearest canvas bag. Can bread ride with canned good....sure. Fruit with fresh chicken....why not?!! Nobody said saving the Planet would be easy, and if it takes a raging case of salmonella to do it, at least I can say I did my part.
I am still using the bags, I do save a nickel for each bag. I wonder what they'd do if I brought in like 20 bags, and then bagged them like they typically bag. 2-4 items per bag. I would save $10.00 every week....hmmmm.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Ugent Care!: Some times the Dog Bites You.
To set this up a little bit, in a severe lapse of parental judgement, I let my son watch Rambo II early in the week. Lets just say he's never looked at his toy guns the same way.
I was in the kitchen, cooking dinner and trying to keep my dogs from stealing my infant daughter's teething biscuit. They had taken up position on either side of her high chair in a high stakes bet on which tiny arm would toss the biscuit. It would be winner take all. They were waiting for the inevitable moment when she would drop it. I asked Jonathan to make sure they didn't get that biscuit. They had alreay stole 3 this week.
Never one to do anything half way on a normal day, my young Stallone took his responsibility very seriously. I heard him roar in suprisingly throaty, gutteral tone for a four year old, " Alex!" He charged my shepard-mix Alex, who immediately turned tail and ran....right into a corner. (No doubt shocked by the ferocity of his battle cry!) In a panic she, rolled over in submission. Focused on his mission, Jonathan continued the attack and dove head first into Alex's huddle mass. She yelped, bit and ran upstairs to hide. The whole thing took 3 seconds. Before I could put my wooden spoon down, Jonathan was crying and holding his face, with blood streaming between his fingers.
So off we went to Urgent Care. We walk into the lobby, and I am sure we made quite an impression. My son with his lacerated face, me in a dirty shirt and flip flops, Emma covered in Sweet Potatoes and strapped in her carrier and my wife, who had just come from work. I am sure the Nurse on Duty would later comment, "Didn't they looked like a family that would bring their kid in with a dog bite and then blame the kid for it! And what was up with that poor filthy baby?! Fucking Red Necks! Probably had mean dogs in the house to guard their meth lab!"
The Doctor came into the treatment room, at least I think he was a Doctor. He was of Eastern European decent. He looked like a poor man's Luka Kovac from ER, except no personality and apparently no one was on set to tell him how to dress. I was half convinced he had escaped from a gypsy caravan or a used car lot and had just stayed at a Holiday Inn Express last night. Strange shiny dress pants, a maroon shirt with embrodery stitching on the collar and cuffs, and scuffed up brown work-shoe looking things. He walked up to Jonathan and started poking and prodding the cut. No introduction, no words, no reassuring banter with the little patient.
He looked at me in disbelief when I told him the family dog bit my son. I then added, that it really wasn't the dogs fault. After some super glue, antibotics and a $50.00 credit card charge we were on our way. He quickly went to the next treatment room. I sure he was thinking, "How many filthy hill jacks do I need to treat before I can return to my mother land?"
Whatever Luka, don't they have dogs in Bosnia?
I was in the kitchen, cooking dinner and trying to keep my dogs from stealing my infant daughter's teething biscuit. They had taken up position on either side of her high chair in a high stakes bet on which tiny arm would toss the biscuit. It would be winner take all. They were waiting for the inevitable moment when she would drop it. I asked Jonathan to make sure they didn't get that biscuit. They had alreay stole 3 this week.
Never one to do anything half way on a normal day, my young Stallone took his responsibility very seriously. I heard him roar in suprisingly throaty, gutteral tone for a four year old, " Alex!" He charged my shepard-mix Alex, who immediately turned tail and ran....right into a corner. (No doubt shocked by the ferocity of his battle cry!) In a panic she, rolled over in submission. Focused on his mission, Jonathan continued the attack and dove head first into Alex's huddle mass. She yelped, bit and ran upstairs to hide. The whole thing took 3 seconds. Before I could put my wooden spoon down, Jonathan was crying and holding his face, with blood streaming between his fingers.
So off we went to Urgent Care. We walk into the lobby, and I am sure we made quite an impression. My son with his lacerated face, me in a dirty shirt and flip flops, Emma covered in Sweet Potatoes and strapped in her carrier and my wife, who had just come from work. I am sure the Nurse on Duty would later comment, "Didn't they looked like a family that would bring their kid in with a dog bite and then blame the kid for it! And what was up with that poor filthy baby?! Fucking Red Necks! Probably had mean dogs in the house to guard their meth lab!"
The Doctor came into the treatment room, at least I think he was a Doctor. He was of Eastern European decent. He looked like a poor man's Luka Kovac from ER, except no personality and apparently no one was on set to tell him how to dress. I was half convinced he had escaped from a gypsy caravan or a used car lot and had just stayed at a Holiday Inn Express last night. Strange shiny dress pants, a maroon shirt with embrodery stitching on the collar and cuffs, and scuffed up brown work-shoe looking things. He walked up to Jonathan and started poking and prodding the cut. No introduction, no words, no reassuring banter with the little patient.
He looked at me in disbelief when I told him the family dog bit my son. I then added, that it really wasn't the dogs fault. After some super glue, antibotics and a $50.00 credit card charge we were on our way. He quickly went to the next treatment room. I sure he was thinking, "How many filthy hill jacks do I need to treat before I can return to my mother land?"
Whatever Luka, don't they have dogs in Bosnia?
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
The Championship Game
There's been some tough decisions, and some upsets and now its time for the final game. Willie vs Geathers. In many ways its the best of the past vs a bright light for the future. Bright lights can and do burn out before they reach their potential, and the Past is simply that...the Past.
The case for Willie: One could argue that during his tenure, he has represented the best of the Bengals. His number, and his name stand for something. It stands for preserverance in the face of adversity, it stands for diligence, reliability, excellence. Willie may be the last player left from the really bad teams of the 90's. The fact he didn't quit in disgust is in itself amazing. Willie's value is brought into focus, when you compare him to knuckleheads like Dillon, Chad Johnson, Pickens, Henry, Odell. As a team, there hasn't been much to celebrate. It got exciting there in 2005, but other than that, its been a long dry spell with some very bad football played.
Summation: Willie's stengths lie in the fact that his jersey, to me anyway would represent the attitude and the type of player on and off the field we should be heralding. His weakness, lies in the fact that during his tenure the Bengals haven't done anything and appear to taking backwards steps.
The Case for Geathers: I really like his athleticism, what he's shown to date and continued room for development. He to me represents the hopes of what the Bengals could be. Fast, Physical, Adaptable, Aggresive. His weakness: Will he develop to his potential?
Summation: Geathers is all about the Believers, and The Hope. The fan that looks to the future and sees the promise of a better tomorrow. The Optimist who sees the very best, and quickly forgets the very worst. There are two kinds of fans and season ticket holders: The one's who have hope, or the one's that sell their tickets to Steeler fans or whomever else is buying that week.
The winner: I cannot believe this. I was thinking Willie the whole way, but the promise and hope of a better tomorrow is as much a part of the American Dream as it is a part of being a Bengal fan. I am a homer. I am sucker, and fool who has been blinded by his love for his hometown team. Please, Mr. Brown, let me write you another check! When I bring my money to the stadium in the near future, I will come home with Geather's jersey. Not for what he has done, but for what he represents.
The case for Willie: One could argue that during his tenure, he has represented the best of the Bengals. His number, and his name stand for something. It stands for preserverance in the face of adversity, it stands for diligence, reliability, excellence. Willie may be the last player left from the really bad teams of the 90's. The fact he didn't quit in disgust is in itself amazing. Willie's value is brought into focus, when you compare him to knuckleheads like Dillon, Chad Johnson, Pickens, Henry, Odell. As a team, there hasn't been much to celebrate. It got exciting there in 2005, but other than that, its been a long dry spell with some very bad football played.
Summation: Willie's stengths lie in the fact that his jersey, to me anyway would represent the attitude and the type of player on and off the field we should be heralding. His weakness, lies in the fact that during his tenure the Bengals haven't done anything and appear to taking backwards steps.
The Case for Geathers: I really like his athleticism, what he's shown to date and continued room for development. He to me represents the hopes of what the Bengals could be. Fast, Physical, Adaptable, Aggresive. His weakness: Will he develop to his potential?
Summation: Geathers is all about the Believers, and The Hope. The fan that looks to the future and sees the promise of a better tomorrow. The Optimist who sees the very best, and quickly forgets the very worst. There are two kinds of fans and season ticket holders: The one's who have hope, or the one's that sell their tickets to Steeler fans or whomever else is buying that week.
The winner: I cannot believe this. I was thinking Willie the whole way, but the promise and hope of a better tomorrow is as much a part of the American Dream as it is a part of being a Bengal fan. I am a homer. I am sucker, and fool who has been blinded by his love for his hometown team. Please, Mr. Brown, let me write you another check! When I bring my money to the stadium in the near future, I will come home with Geather's jersey. Not for what he has done, but for what he represents.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Jersey Tourney: Final Four
I think I need a new jersey for the 2008 season and have been working a NCAA tourney style bracket to decide my purchase.
The Final Four:
Geathers vs Jobu 12: I suppose the key question here is could Geather's be a God of Defense? Because and I quote Ghostbusters, " Are you a God?" Ray of course answers, "No." Gozar replies, " Then DIE!!!!!!!" The divine typically punish those who aspire to higher heights than allowed. See the Tower of Babel or Icarus. Geather's is coming back to his natural position. We have a new D Coordinator - which could be good or bad. Could Geather's dominate off the line? I think he could but there are so few that are game changers, The Freak in the day, Strahan certainly comes to mind. Its a pretty tall order. But in the end, It was Cerano who hit the curve ball, not Jobu. I shall put my faith in mankind and Geathers will advance to the Championship match.
Willie vs Old Faithful a.k.a. Justin Smith: I like my battle worn #90. But this isn't even close. Its Willie beating Justin the way Kansas beat UNC or Memphis torched UCLA.
Championship Game: Willie vs Geathers...Who Ya Got?
The Final Four:
Geathers vs Jobu 12: I suppose the key question here is could Geather's be a God of Defense? Because and I quote Ghostbusters, " Are you a God?" Ray of course answers, "No." Gozar replies, " Then DIE!!!!!!!" The divine typically punish those who aspire to higher heights than allowed. See the Tower of Babel or Icarus. Geather's is coming back to his natural position. We have a new D Coordinator - which could be good or bad. Could Geather's dominate off the line? I think he could but there are so few that are game changers, The Freak in the day, Strahan certainly comes to mind. Its a pretty tall order. But in the end, It was Cerano who hit the curve ball, not Jobu. I shall put my faith in mankind and Geathers will advance to the Championship match.
Willie vs Old Faithful a.k.a. Justin Smith: I like my battle worn #90. But this isn't even close. Its Willie beating Justin the way Kansas beat UNC or Memphis torched UCLA.
Championship Game: Willie vs Geathers...Who Ya Got?
Friday, April 4, 2008
Suggestions for the Workplace...
Most of us go to work everyday, and spend at least some time on the internet, so I think this topic is relevant to the internet community at large. I was recently forwarded an email by a friend who works for a large company in the area. The email basically asked their employees how long it had been since they had a sober weekend, and then challenged them to try it. It also directed them to an internal hotline for counseling if the failed the "challenge." Now, 1st of all...I am of the firm opinion that seeing Saturday Night Live with double vision is not only an unalienable right, but it also makes SNL better. In fact, drinking makes many things better. Now that idea really got me thinking.
Perhaps this major company has it all backwards. In stead of going all Henry Ford on their employees and trying to regulate their personal life, how about embracing the consumption of alchohol at home and in the workplace! People, I am talking about real change here! I submit to you, dear reader, that perhaps if the practice of the baccanal arts were permitted in the work place, it would be more productive, and most certainly a happier environment.
I give you the British Navy as my example. In the 18th and 19th centuries, they owned the high seas. Aside from the occasional buggery below decks, the ships ran on booze. Since water was unreliable, they drank beer...lots of it. And once a day, all hands received a grog ration consisting of a pint or more of rum. Yet, British warships were the model of efficiency and productivity as demostrated by their nearly 200 years of dominance on the waves.
Think my friends, of what we could do, if only we traded our coffee cups for beer mugs and our water bottles for flasks.
Perhaps this major company has it all backwards. In stead of going all Henry Ford on their employees and trying to regulate their personal life, how about embracing the consumption of alchohol at home and in the workplace! People, I am talking about real change here! I submit to you, dear reader, that perhaps if the practice of the baccanal arts were permitted in the work place, it would be more productive, and most certainly a happier environment.
I give you the British Navy as my example. In the 18th and 19th centuries, they owned the high seas. Aside from the occasional buggery below decks, the ships ran on booze. Since water was unreliable, they drank beer...lots of it. And once a day, all hands received a grog ration consisting of a pint or more of rum. Yet, British warships were the model of efficiency and productivity as demostrated by their nearly 200 years of dominance on the waves.
Think my friends, of what we could do, if only we traded our coffee cups for beer mugs and our water bottles for flasks.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Jersey Tourney: The Elite 8
And Now you know why Chris Henry was never selected to the field.
Ahmad Brooks vs Geathers: Tough call. Brooks has all the physical talent in the world and maybe now with a headset on defense he can get in the right position and be where he is supposed to be. For now though he hasn't established himself yet and I am not sure of his long term future with the team. I love how selfless Geathers was in moving to linebacker last year. I also love it when Dave Lapham calls Geathers "Jumpy Junior." Plus he was plenty of time left on his new contract, Ahmad, I am sorry but you're out. Jumpy is going to the final 4.
Shane Graham vs Jobu (jersey #12): With Chad playing his games, (what was the ESPN phone interview all about anyway?), Chris Henry gone, Perry and Irons still on the shelf and a defense that at a minimum is questionable, it may take divine intervention to craft a winning season. Jobu, of Major League fame, could give this team the spark they need. If its one place where a Vodoo God would fit in...its in the jungle. Shane is money in the bank, provided the snap and hold are good, but even as much as I value Special Teams( Come on Special Teams....Be Special!!!!) , I just cannot bring myself to wear a kicker's jersey. Jobu...Welcome to the Jungle.
Palmer vs Justin Smith: I cannot bring myself to buy a Palmer jersey. I had a heated conversation with my friends on this topic. My opinion is, if they make a pink girls jersey and sell it at Dick's, I cannot follow the herd and wear it. Nothing against Palmer, I think he's awesome. But I gotta be me, and if its between buying nothing and keeping old tattered #90 and putting on the number 9 with everybody else. I'll stick with 90.
Willie vs TJ: Geez. I really like both of these guys. Its like #1 seeds facing off. I think they make pink 84 jerseys, that's a strike against TJ. Willie cannot be around much longer, do I want to invest in a player who won't be on the field in 2009? Willie has seen it all, done it all lived through the bad, the not so bad and the terrible. In stark contrast to some of his teammates, he has always done it with quiet, workman like class. Willie Anderson's 71 will stand for something long after he's left the field. Welcome to the Final Four, Big Man.
Ahmad Brooks vs Geathers: Tough call. Brooks has all the physical talent in the world and maybe now with a headset on defense he can get in the right position and be where he is supposed to be. For now though he hasn't established himself yet and I am not sure of his long term future with the team. I love how selfless Geathers was in moving to linebacker last year. I also love it when Dave Lapham calls Geathers "Jumpy Junior." Plus he was plenty of time left on his new contract, Ahmad, I am sorry but you're out. Jumpy is going to the final 4.
Shane Graham vs Jobu (jersey #12): With Chad playing his games, (what was the ESPN phone interview all about anyway?), Chris Henry gone, Perry and Irons still on the shelf and a defense that at a minimum is questionable, it may take divine intervention to craft a winning season. Jobu, of Major League fame, could give this team the spark they need. If its one place where a Vodoo God would fit in...its in the jungle. Shane is money in the bank, provided the snap and hold are good, but even as much as I value Special Teams( Come on Special Teams....Be Special!!!!) , I just cannot bring myself to wear a kicker's jersey. Jobu...Welcome to the Jungle.
Palmer vs Justin Smith: I cannot bring myself to buy a Palmer jersey. I had a heated conversation with my friends on this topic. My opinion is, if they make a pink girls jersey and sell it at Dick's, I cannot follow the herd and wear it. Nothing against Palmer, I think he's awesome. But I gotta be me, and if its between buying nothing and keeping old tattered #90 and putting on the number 9 with everybody else. I'll stick with 90.
Willie vs TJ: Geez. I really like both of these guys. Its like #1 seeds facing off. I think they make pink 84 jerseys, that's a strike against TJ. Willie cannot be around much longer, do I want to invest in a player who won't be on the field in 2009? Willie has seen it all, done it all lived through the bad, the not so bad and the terrible. In stark contrast to some of his teammates, he has always done it with quiet, workman like class. Willie Anderson's 71 will stand for something long after he's left the field. Welcome to the Final Four, Big Man.
Hung Over with Kids: Part II
There are three things that I want to do when I am hung over. They are as follows: 1) Lay on the couch all day, until guilt or necessity propels me forward. 2) Eat McDonalds French Fries and wash them down with the largest Coke they sell. 3) Have delightfully lazy sex. There was a time in my life when all of my wildest Hang Over Dreams could come true. That time was before children. On the bright side, I was reasonably sure that I could get my son on board with the McDonalds part of the plan.
Sex is completely off the table. For some reason, my wife has difficulty getting in the mood while holding a 5 month old in her arms. For me it was our son careening through the house with not one but two light sabers engaged a vicious and loud duel with the cunning (and invisible) Darth Vader. Assuming we surmount those obstacles there is also the issue of privacy as it's hard to use the bathroom without our son barging in to ask questions like " Ummm....Have you seen my Spiderman Mask? Dad....It really stinks in here."
I can only imagine the interruptions if by some miracle, my wife and I were to go upstairs. We would soon hear his steps on the stairs and then hear him grabbing at the door knob.
"What are you guys doing?"
"Can I help?"
He starts knocking on the door and jiggling the cheap brass door knob.
"Ummm...my power ranger, the red one....he's fighting my alligator."
He then realizes he's locked out.
"Mom.....you shouldn't lock the door."
"Mom...are you OK?"
"Dad...(he's thinking of something else to say)...Ummm Dad...I love you."
If all that wouldn't kill your Mojo, then you are more motivated or desperate than I. Having seen all this in my mind's eye, I knew there was no way in hell there would be Hangover Booty.
Well, at least there's the couch and glorious HDTV. Only the couch didn't really work out either. I abandoned that after Jonathan vaulted over it in an attempt to get the upper hand on his nemesis. When he saw me get up, the torrent of talking began.
Daddy....D-A-D-D-Y (he spells it out now too) do you want to play light sabers?
Dad, Dad, DADDY! Look at this Hot Wheel ...isn't it Crazy!
Mom, watch this!
Guys! Look at Me!
Hey, I farted!
Dad....can you fix this?
Can...Ran...THAT RHYMES!!!!
Dad Dad Dad Dad Daddy DADDY, D...A...D...D...Y
Mom.....(a long pause, as again he's run out of things to say)...I love you.
There was only one thing left to do. I grabbed my keys. "Hey Jonathan, do you want to grab some McDonalds?" Of course he did, and so we went. Half an hour later, with my greasy fingers clutching the 48oz tub they served my drink in, I slupped the last drops of ice cold sugary goodness. I was feeling better.
Jonathan stared at me from across the table. "Hey Daddy....now can we play light sabers?"
Sex is completely off the table. For some reason, my wife has difficulty getting in the mood while holding a 5 month old in her arms. For me it was our son careening through the house with not one but two light sabers engaged a vicious and loud duel with the cunning (and invisible) Darth Vader. Assuming we surmount those obstacles there is also the issue of privacy as it's hard to use the bathroom without our son barging in to ask questions like " Ummm....Have you seen my Spiderman Mask? Dad....It really stinks in here."
I can only imagine the interruptions if by some miracle, my wife and I were to go upstairs. We would soon hear his steps on the stairs and then hear him grabbing at the door knob.
"What are you guys doing?"
"Can I help?"
He starts knocking on the door and jiggling the cheap brass door knob.
"Ummm...my power ranger, the red one....he's fighting my alligator."
He then realizes he's locked out.
"Mom.....you shouldn't lock the door."
"Mom...are you OK?"
"Dad...(he's thinking of something else to say)...Ummm Dad...I love you."
If all that wouldn't kill your Mojo, then you are more motivated or desperate than I. Having seen all this in my mind's eye, I knew there was no way in hell there would be Hangover Booty.
Well, at least there's the couch and glorious HDTV. Only the couch didn't really work out either. I abandoned that after Jonathan vaulted over it in an attempt to get the upper hand on his nemesis. When he saw me get up, the torrent of talking began.
Daddy....D-A-D-D-Y (he spells it out now too) do you want to play light sabers?
Dad, Dad, DADDY! Look at this Hot Wheel ...isn't it Crazy!
Mom, watch this!
Guys! Look at Me!
Hey, I farted!
Dad....can you fix this?
Can...Ran...THAT RHYMES!!!!
Dad Dad Dad Dad Daddy DADDY, D...A...D...D...Y
Mom.....(a long pause, as again he's run out of things to say)...I love you.
There was only one thing left to do. I grabbed my keys. "Hey Jonathan, do you want to grab some McDonalds?" Of course he did, and so we went. Half an hour later, with my greasy fingers clutching the 48oz tub they served my drink in, I slupped the last drops of ice cold sugary goodness. I was feeling better.
Jonathan stared at me from across the table. "Hey Daddy....now can we play light sabers?"
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Second Round Match Ups - Jersey Tourney
Boomer vs Palmer: 1988 vs the future. Will Palmer get us to the Super Bowl? I believe he can. For the record, I believe he can do it with out Chad. Palmer advances.
Akili vs Graham: I am not sure which is lamer. Can you wear a kicker's jersey if you are not related to him? I have to go with it though, as he stands to be the most prolific and productive kicker in Bengal History and with our defense in transition and inability to run lately, he's been a key component of our offense. Shane it is...
M. Brown 00 vs Jobu #12: No commentary needed, I am over people blaming Brown and will not participate any more. Jobu #12, bring me a winning season please.
Geathers vs J. Smith (bye candidate): This is tough as I already have the jersey and it has that worn tattered look that says, "I was here before you and will be here after you" credibility you cannot get from buying a Palmer jersey in the Pro Shop before the game. But Geather's could be a stud....Since I need another filler candidate (since I suck at making brackets)....both advance)
Munoz vs Willie: Tough matchup. I have seen Willie play in person and followed his career. I was a pubescent nerd who didn't really get football in when Munoz was at his brightest. I know, I know...my loss. But I have to go with Willie on this one. He was there in 1999 at my first game, and he's still there now, and he is and always will be one of my favorites.
James Brooks vs TJ: Very similar players. Heads down, getting the tough yards. Sometimes over shadowed by peers. How much more does TJ have in the tank??? Lets find out...TJ wins.
A Brooks vs Leon Hall: A pretty boy corner 1st pick vs a supplemental pick that may or may not be. I like defense, and I like linebackers more than corners. Corner's are the Wide Receiver's and thus the Prima Donna's of the Defense. Ahmad Brooks.....don't let me down.
Who Ya Got!
Next round match ups: Ahmad Brooks vs Robert Geathers, Shane Graham vs Jobu 12, Palmer vs Justin Smith, Willie vs TJ.
Akili vs Graham: I am not sure which is lamer. Can you wear a kicker's jersey if you are not related to him? I have to go with it though, as he stands to be the most prolific and productive kicker in Bengal History and with our defense in transition and inability to run lately, he's been a key component of our offense. Shane it is...
M. Brown 00 vs Jobu #12: No commentary needed, I am over people blaming Brown and will not participate any more. Jobu #12, bring me a winning season please.
Geathers vs J. Smith (bye candidate): This is tough as I already have the jersey and it has that worn tattered look that says, "I was here before you and will be here after you" credibility you cannot get from buying a Palmer jersey in the Pro Shop before the game. But Geather's could be a stud....Since I need another filler candidate (since I suck at making brackets)....both advance)
Munoz vs Willie: Tough matchup. I have seen Willie play in person and followed his career. I was a pubescent nerd who didn't really get football in when Munoz was at his brightest. I know, I know...my loss. But I have to go with Willie on this one. He was there in 1999 at my first game, and he's still there now, and he is and always will be one of my favorites.
James Brooks vs TJ: Very similar players. Heads down, getting the tough yards. Sometimes over shadowed by peers. How much more does TJ have in the tank??? Lets find out...TJ wins.
A Brooks vs Leon Hall: A pretty boy corner 1st pick vs a supplemental pick that may or may not be. I like defense, and I like linebackers more than corners. Corner's are the Wide Receiver's and thus the Prima Donna's of the Defense. Ahmad Brooks.....don't let me down.
Who Ya Got!
Next round match ups: Ahmad Brooks vs Robert Geathers, Shane Graham vs Jobu 12, Palmer vs Justin Smith, Willie vs TJ.
Hung Over.....With Kids
I did something Saturday night, that I haven's done in what seems like an eternity. My wife and I went out with friends and bar hopped. We drank....alot. We took shots. I played drunken pool with stangers and smoked at least 12 cigarettes....maybe more. The cab dropped us off at 3:00am.
The next morning, I felt like I had just walked through the Gobi desert, snacking on Cigarette butts from an old ashtray while someone banged cymbals right behind my head. I stumbled to the bathroom, drank about a gallon of water from straight from the faucet and immediately ingested 3 Advil. My first though..."Hmmm....where's my pants?" I squinted at the alarm clock and knew I had a precious 90 minutes before both kids were back. My thoughts immediately turned to food and an overwhelming urge for Grease.
After a delicious breakfast of bacon, fried eggs, gravy...more gravy, biscuits... lots of coffee, I retreated to take a shower. As soon as the water hit me and the steam floated up, I smelled the stale smoke as if I were wearing a cloak of all the disgarded butt-ends consumed by the entire bar. I looked at my feet expecting there to be a small pile of Camel Light filters around my feet. I thought about the previous night. Seriously...did I really speak French to some strange girl and did she really claim to be in the wine industry....in Ohio???? Did I really sing along to Journey and drum on the table to Jame's Laid?...(Great song though!!) Did I really seriously discuss the moral delima of fighting skinheads? Why did I do that 4th jager bomb??
A ringing doorbell interupted my hazy recollections....Crap!!! They were back!
The next morning, I felt like I had just walked through the Gobi desert, snacking on Cigarette butts from an old ashtray while someone banged cymbals right behind my head. I stumbled to the bathroom, drank about a gallon of water from straight from the faucet and immediately ingested 3 Advil. My first though..."Hmmm....where's my pants?" I squinted at the alarm clock and knew I had a precious 90 minutes before both kids were back. My thoughts immediately turned to food and an overwhelming urge for Grease.
After a delicious breakfast of bacon, fried eggs, gravy...more gravy, biscuits... lots of coffee, I retreated to take a shower. As soon as the water hit me and the steam floated up, I smelled the stale smoke as if I were wearing a cloak of all the disgarded butt-ends consumed by the entire bar. I looked at my feet expecting there to be a small pile of Camel Light filters around my feet. I thought about the previous night. Seriously...did I really speak French to some strange girl and did she really claim to be in the wine industry....in Ohio???? Did I really sing along to Journey and drum on the table to Jame's Laid?...(Great song though!!) Did I really seriously discuss the moral delima of fighting skinheads? Why did I do that 4th jager bomb??
A ringing doorbell interupted my hazy recollections....Crap!!! They were back!
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