Sking

Skiing is hard. Skiing is hard and dangerous. Therefore, skiing is perfect. Thanks to an ingenious plan hatched by Kim in the comment section of my last post I had finally hatched a way out of bridge inspections for the next three months. Having never skied before, hurtling down a mountain on a sheet of ice was a sure fire way for me to sustain an injury serious enough to keep me confined to my awesome desk with my work bff, the internet. Everything was set up perfectly. We had a sweet house on the lake, everyone was having a great time, I got pretty drunk the night before so the hangover was throwing my ski game off a little bit. Even my right boot was too small resulting in intense arch pain most of the day. I was certain to fly off the side of a mountain and break a bone. It was going to be awesome. There’s only one thing that wasn’t factored in, my superior athleticism. I forgot that I’m money at most things I try*. I had a rough start but by the end of the day I was kicking ass. Skiing is totally easy, it was really a forgone conclusion. Dammit, I can’t even suck at something right. I was pissed. And you’re reading comprehension is not off, I’m might be the only person you’ll ever here express disappointment in not breaking a bone. Now I have to work outside dodging pigeon shit for the next three months. It’s going to suck.

This creates an interesting anomaly that is my life, my friends were kind of enough to point this out for me. How is it that I’m pretty good at most everything I try, and yet suck at life as a whole? Is that even possible? Apparently it is.

There is one great thing that came out the weekend. Most of the car ride up, because I’m super arrogant, I keep telling everyone how easy skiing is and how awesome I was going to be. It got to the point were a lot of people were eagerly anticipating see me fail. They would’ve taken a lot of pleasure in watching me fall on my ass all day. They were pretty pissed I was good. It was great. It almost made pigeon turds and sucking at life tolerable for a few hours.



*Except golf. Golf confounds me. Why is it that I can (could) hit a ball hurled at me at 80-90 mph but I can’t hit a stationary one sitting right in front of me? It might be the most frustrating thing I’ve ever experienced. I’ve been to a driving range 3 times. My best golf shot ever, one of the few times I’ve actually made solid contact, was when I threw a ball up in the air and swung away. I suck at golf. It’s killing my ass kissing ability with my bosses.

Oh hey

I know what you’re saying right now: Eric, you’re blog sucks, you haven’t written anything in weeks. I know, I apologize. I can’t really argue that fact. Only, I will. Watch this.

What do you want from me? Am I the only one that realizes this is the absolute worst time of year? Football’s over, baseball hasn’t started yet, and college basketball is in the boring part of the season. Writers have been on strike for the last three months so there’s nothing on TV. The weather is too bad to do anything outside. Basically there is absolutely nothing going on in my life. Unless you want to hear about a trip to the gym, the 50,000th (and probably worst) recap of Lost on the internet, or a random drunken Saturday night, I got nothin’. I can’t even write about the nights out because to be honest I haven’t remembered the last few (perhaps I could turn this into some sort of self help blog, I may have a drinking problem. Would that be something you’d enjoy?). Here are the two most interesting things that happened to me so far this week:

• I was riding to work the other day and passed a Tahoe or Suburban or something pimped out with the usual accoutrements: 24” rims, tinted windows, something thuggish written on the back windshield in calligraphy, and a loud, rattling stereo system. Pretty standard stuff, only their musical choice threw me off. They were blaring polka. And the guys inside were really pumped about it, they love the ole squeeze box.

• I had a Jolly Rancher stuck to one of my back teeth for a solid 45 minutes to an hour yesterday afternoon. Which actually isn’t interesting at all except for paradox of feelings it caused. It is both infuriating and delicious at the same time. Weird.

Don’t worry though, loyal readers, there is a lot more adventure on the horizon. Tomorrow I have to leave the office for the next two months for bridge inspections, which is going to suck. Working outdoors isn’t really my thing, especially in February. Also I’m going skiing for the first time in my life this weekend. Despite being a spectacular athlete I’m pretty clumsy (Another paradox? Am I using that word right?) The combination of me hanging in a bucket 85 feet over a river and me hurtling down mountains increases my chances of serious bodily harm and/or death exponentially. So I think I might have a story or two to tell soon.

Celebrities are A Holes

I may or may not have heard a few good TWSS said jokes this week. I really can't remember. I been in a drug induced haze for the last 4 days because something vaguely fluish and things are foggy. As a result I will be forgoing That's What She Said Friday, instead enjoy this video of Chris Berman being a total dick (NSFW, Boomer has a potty mouth). In case you've been wondering what it's like to play baseball at a certain university in Washington, DC (and I know you have), you're in luck because in this video Berman is practically channeling the coach. It's eery.




Thanks Val

Reasons Why Tennis is Awesome...

There's really only one reason why tennis is awesome. I awoke early Saturday morning kind of hungover. While lying in bed channel surfing I came upon the women's Australian Open, and the only reason to watch tennis on television. Because the finals in a Grand Slam tournament can consist of the following matchup:

Ana Ivanovic v. Maria Sharapova

It was a great match. Needless to say, I was riveted.

RPTWSSF

Reader Participation That's What She Said Friday was a rousing success last week! Ok mild success. No? Not even that? Well I don't care, we're doing it again. Here it is, try and figure out what I was talking about:

Me: It was right on the tip of my tongue but it's not coming, I'm going to have to go with something else
Matt: That's what she said.


Have at it. A challenge to my friends (I'm looking at you in particular Mike, Baha, and Wendy) no BJ jokes.

Blah Blah Blah

By now I'm sure everyone has heard the nonstory about Tom Brady's pretend ankle injury. Half of New England had a stroke Monday when TMZ released some pictures of him in a walking boot on the way to Gisele's with some flowers and pastries. Turns out it's nothing. Shocker. Anyway, in that regard I decided to write a post about Tom Brady. I had it written in my head. It was funny. It was going to be all blah blah blah I'm Tom Brady, I'm the best quarterback ever, and I bring my supermodel girlfriend flowers when I visit, and I thwart terrorist attacks with my steely gaze blah blah blah. Ok maybe it wasn't that funny but whatever, thats not the point. The point is it was all written (in my head, which counts) and I couldn't find the damn picture. I searched everywhere. And by everywhere I mean I spent 3 minutes on Google (Ed. note: I'm lazy* and don't try hard).

For some reason my inability to find this picture really pissed me off. I realized I'm in one of those whiny, self pitying, everything sucks and I hate you kind of moods. It's weird, I'm not in a bad mood. I'm actually in a pretty good mood but at the same time have a hard time fighting the urge to say fuck a lot. I guess on edge would be the best way to describe it. You know the feeling, you're going along with your day, everythings great, you're smiling, then you pump your knee on a chair and want to blow up a Starbucks. Anywho, as a result of my setback I decided to scrap the Tom Brady post. I do have one question though. The Cowboys had two weeks off before their first playoff game. Wade Phillips gave the team the first weekend off and Tony Romo chose to spend that weekend at the beach with his girlfriend. Because that girlfriend is Jessica Simpson some pictures came out and the media had a shit fit. According to sportswriters (who are mostly idiots) he showed a lack of committment to the team, he didn't care about winning, he wasn't preparing the way he should. He was being crucified for going to the beach. So here's my question: Tom Brady got the same weekend off two weeks before the Super Bowl. He chose to spend that time in New York with his famous girlfriend. The trip from Dallas to Cabo is not that much longer than the trip from Boston to New York, how come there isn't a huge uproar about Brady the way their was about Romo?



* Here's a fun anecdote regarding my laziness: I got dressed for work this morning and realized my shirt still has the telltale creases of a newly purchased shirt. I think this is only the second time I've worn the shirt so I guess that somewhat explains that. The only thing is, I got this shirt for Christmas. Two years ago. How have I not ironed out the creases, or at least taken it to a dry cleaner.

TWSSF

What's up mofos? So everyone loves That's What She Said Friday right? I know I do. But really how often can you turn benign conversation into sexual innuendo? Forever I think, but it still gets a tad repetitive. That's why I adding a twist this week. You guys have been sitting on my fastball to long, it's time to mix in a changeup. That's why this week is Reader Participation That's What She Said Friday. Or RPTWSSF for short. Instead of setting the scene then revealing the conversation I'm just going to tell you the joke, and then if you like fun you can guess what I'm talking about in the comments section. Sounds awesome right? No? Well humor me. Here goes:

Me: I kind of like that I can just stick it in for 5-10 minutes and forget about it until its done.
Aaron: That's what she said

What the heck am I talking about?! Crazy. Have fun

Answer to come whenever I feel like it.

TWSSF

Doesn't the first full week back after the holidays also seem soooo long? It's excruciating. Really I could get used to 3 and 4 day work weeks. How can I arrange that? Until then I can think of only one thing that can make then long week feel a little shorter, the triumphant return of That's What She Said Friday! Here goes:

My roommate Aaron works for Enterprise Rent-A-Car. Apparently now they offer navigation systems to people renting from them, the removable kind that you suction cup to the windshield. For liability purposes employees are not allowed to physically install the GPS for the driver. Which makes sense because could you really put it past someone blaming a little box in their windshield for driving their car off of a bridge of something (or driving into a lake a la Micheal Scott). I wouldn't, this is America after all. Anyway, one of my roommates employees was demonstrating how to install it to a customer when he said this:

Random enterprise employee: I'm going to put it in for you to show you how it's done, but then I'm going to take it out and you can stick it anywhere you feel comfortable.

Aaron: (in his head because he has to pretend to be professional around customers at work) That's what she said.

Here are some emails I received this week:

From Mike:

I joined a dodge ball team. There are two types of balls, 4 small multicolored balls and 2 larger red balls. From last night:

Guy On My Team (yelling from the court as the last person facing 3 people from the other team): I like the big red balls!

Me (yelling from the sideline): That's what she said!

Next from Jason via Brittany:

So, I put a song on from my Ipod for Dell and after it played for a little I turned down the volume. She continued to sing the song so I said to her “I can keep it up if you want” and then our admin Sue said “That’s what she said”

Keep in mind that Britt just started working there two weeks ago, and Sue is 60 years old.

How You Know People Have Run Out of Ideas

The summer after I graduated college I moved to the beach with some friends. Near our house was a karaoke bar. One night when a few friends were in town and they went over there and happened to witness the single greatest karaoke performance of all time. That's not hyperbole either, it's a fact. Unprompted, a bartender hopped over the bar to perform "She's Like the Wind" by Patrick Swayze. The key word to that sentence is perform, he didn't just stand rigidly on a stage and read lyrics from a prompter. He worked the crowd, really crooning to the ladies. I'm pretty sure this guy was a comedic genius. He chose the most perfectly awful, somewhat obscure but still well known cheesy 80's ballad and sang it with a totally straight face. You know how amazing I think this story is? I wasn't even there, but I still feel the need to tell it becuse it's so great. I was at work, I didn't hear it until the next day at the beach and I'm pretty sure I laughed for a solid 2 hours. I love it so much I've made this my go to karaoke performance, the highlight of my singing career being my epic serenade of Rachel at the Dubliner Christmas party in 2003. It sounds like I'm stealing someone elses idea, but I consider it an homage. I'm like a tribute band. Essentially I'm doing karaoke of a guy doing karaoke to Patrick Swayze.

As a result of this I now love "She's Like the Wind". It really is an amazing song. How can something be so awful and yet so awesome at the same time. It's a paradox. So imagine my surprise when I was at the gym last night and heard a remake of the song. For real. Someone actually thought to themselves, "I think I'll redo that song from Dirty Dancing the Patrick Swayze did. Only I'll add some rapping and a cool beat." This seems like a bad idea to me but apparently not to other people. You decide.

Who Am I?

Shame is an emotion that is foreign to no one. There are moments in everyone’s life that they regret. Things that embarrass you, which you hope no one finds out about. You look at yourself in the mirror and can’t meet your own gaze. You think to yourself, is this really the direction my life has turned, has it really come to this. These are the things I was going through last night while watching 2 hours of the new American Gladiators. Who am I? I’m better than this right? Apparently not. I just had to check it out; I loved American Gladiators as a kid and wanted to see if the newer version measured up. It did not. While watching the latest rendition of the show I recalled that American Gladiators was originally aired on Saturday mornings, meaning it was aimed at children and professional wrestling fans, neither of which applies me anymore (although some might argue that I am in fact still a child, at least emotionally). The question though is how you can actually get worse than this:



Basically the show is nearly identical to the original, with a few added wrinkles. Like water! And fire (but only from a safe distance)! Awesome. Also there is a new game where gladiators throw 100 lb. Nerf balls at contestants trying to run across a bridge. Just like in ancient Rome! The worst part about the show now though is all the trash talk. They tried to give it more hard edge by interviewing the contestants before and after every competition to let them talk smack to each other and the gladiators and it’s simply brutal. There is a very small percentage of the population that can talk trash and sound cool. None of them were on this show. They just sound like jackasses and it makes me cringe every time someone opens their mouth. Oh and if there is only a very small percentage of people who can successfully trash talk, than a very small percentage of that very small percentage are women. It’s just not in their DNA. Its science look it up. Next they mic’ed the Gladiators, which was just a horrible idea. If I wanted to hear meatheads grunting out stupid comments I’d spend more time at the gym. I’m not interested in hearing Titan wax poetic on is chances of tossing a 140 lb. asian man off of a 40 ft. foam pyramid. One more thing, Hulk Hogan and Laila Ali, you are no Mike Adamle and Larry Csonka.

Having said all that though, I think I might be hooked. It happened shortly into the second hour of competition. The first appearance of Hellga (not a typo) the fat gladiator. Hold on, let change that to Hellga the Fat Gladiator. From now on that’s her proper name on this blog. She was completely hapless and I loved every second of it. They stuck her at the end of the Gauntlet, I’m certain with the idea that after having three other gladiators pounding on the contestants with giant foam sticks their fatigue would balance out Hellga the Fat Gladiators shortcomings. Those being lack of lateral movement and overall athletic ability. Their plan failed. After struggling through Crush, Fury, and Stealth the contestant reached Helga the Fat Gladiator and zoomed by untouched as she failed desperately. They’re running between two walls maybe 10 feet apart and without even putting any kind of move on her the contestant just ran right by without even a tap from Hellga’s foam covered hands. The second contestant chose a different approached. She just powered right through Hellga, which you’d think given her girth would be a difficult task but apparently not. I loved outfit too; everyone else is wearing the tightest spandex imaginable to show off their physique, but she’s wearing a skirt. Which I’m sure together with the pigtails and the name is meant to infer some sort of Bavarian ancestry but I’m not buying it, I’m pretty sure is to cover up her ass. Needless to say I’ll probably tune in again just hoping for a Hellga appearance. I think that alone would be worth it. Well that and quotes like this from one of the contestants, “I was just trying to grab any extremity I could and hold on as long as possible.”

That’s what she said.

Redskins

I know it's Friday and you guys all probably want to read some juvenile humor but I going to have to skip it this week. I can't concentrate. There isn't much that gets me more pumped up than the NFL playoffs and considering how bad the Redskins have been for the last decade or so I'm extra fired up. My coworkers are at serious risk of headbutts if they come to close. When I get home from work there is an excellent chance of me throwing on my Sean Taylor jersey and tackling strangers in the street. I'm so pumped up today I might put 120 lbs on the bench press at the gym today. Oh that's right, that's how excited I am. So I'll just leave you with this while I go spear someone getting off of the elavator:


Hail to the Redskins
Hail Vic-tor-y
Braves on the Warpath
Fight for old D.C.
Run or pass and score -- we want a lot more!
Beat 'em, Swamp 'em,
Touchdown! -- Let the points soar!
Fight on, fight on 'Til you have won
Sons of Wash-ing-ton. Fight!, Fight!, Fight!
Hail to the Redskins
Hail Vic-tor-y
Braves on the Warpath
Fight for old D.C.

My New Favorite Thing Ever

I dare you to watch this and not be in a good mood. It's impossible.



I told you. You're welcome.

TWSS Friday!

Oh hey. Remember me? I'm back from Christmas at home with the family. It was lovely. I'm also back to letting other people do the work of blogging for me. You know what that means, it's TWSS Friday!

Here's a forwarded email from a friends sister. I may or may not have met this person at their wedding but I don't recall. I drank a lot that weekend. Take it away Joanna:

No one around here seems to understand TWSS, so I play by myself in my head. It keeps me amused when some people are really boring.

While riding in a Excursion limo, Jared said "It's so huge in here.I could park my Saturn in here." So I thought, "That's what he said."

Jared was lying on the seat and slid when the driver hit the brakes. He said "I could come out shorter than Adrian." Well I thought,"That's what I said."

Jared remarked on his lacrosse style of play against cocky opponents,"I pounce on dicks." Obviously I thought, "That's what she said."

The last ones my favorite.

Role Models

Everyone should have a role model. Someone who positively influences your life. Someone who lives life you would like to live, someone you aspire to emulate. For a young girl that can often be there big sister. But when your big sister is a batshit crazy, whorish, train wreck you might want to pick someone else to model your life after. Oooh, looks like Jamie Lynn realized that fact a few weeks to late. Dagger.

Yes

Brazilian star Kaka named FIFA's player of year

Awesome.

A Few Thoughts on Football

Given the current state of my life right now (it sucks) I've develop a special ability to find the downside in everything. Seriously, I'm like the Michael Jordan of taking something that should make me happy and making it suck. Watch me apply this gift to the week in football.

• The Redskins beat the Giants 22-10 yesterday. A huge win over a division rival to keep their playoffs hopes alive. Awesome right? Wrong. Since their last Super Bowl win in 1991 I have learned to live with a perenially immensely talented team that will ultimately underachieve (the Redskins are much like myself in this regard actually). They can never just suck, they're always tantalizingly mediocre. The never live up to expectations, but they always play just well enough to keep fans interested, ultimately crushing them in the end. It will happen again. I just haven't figure out how. Will Adrian Peterson run for 400 yards on them next week or will it come down to the final game of the season against the Cowboys where they'll blow another second half lead? It's not a matter of if but when.

• Speaking of the Cowboys, it figures that the only time I will ever root for them to win they lose. To the Eagles no less. All I want is for the Cowboys to wrap up homefield advantage in the playoffs so they rest their starters in week 17 against the Skins. But, noooooooo, Tony Romo plays like crap, gets hurt, and we have to endure 40 shots of Jessica Simpson in the booth wearing a pink jersey. Could it get any worse. Although how awesome was it when Brian Westbrook was waltzing into the endzone for a touchdown but instead decided to down it at the one and run the clock out. How many fantasy football seasons did that ruin and in turn how many TVs did that ruin when Westbrook owners put their remote through the screen?

• Ooh, that sounded almost positive about the Westbrook thing, lets put a negative spin on that. My team was in the playoffs this week, playing against a team carrying Westbrook, and it did not help me at all. Because my team absolutely shit the bed. Of course I dominate all year and then in the second round of the playoffs I have Randy Moss playing in a blizzard. Although I think the fact that I was depending on 3 Detroit Lions might have been my downfall. It was inevitable.

• Ok it wasn't all negative yesterday. There was one thing I absolutely loved. Living in Baltimore I developed a solid hatred of the Ravens. Seeing them lose to the 0-13, now 1-13, Dolphins was probably the most enjoyable experience I've had in weeks. The Ravens have officially hit rock bottom. At least now I have some company down here. Crap, I can't even get any joy out of that.

I told you it was a gift.

Right Now It's About 50/50

In a little while I have to go into a training session that will last until the end of the day tomorrow. It's going to be rather soul crushing. If you hear from me sometime this weekend or Monday it means I somehow found the will to not call it a life and jump out the conference room window 25 stories to my death. If you haven't, be concerned, it's a possibility. If so someone call my parents for me? Thanks.

Metaphors For Life

I got a haircut on Monday. While cutting my hair the barber, who I had never visited before, asked me if I've considered anything for hair loss. It's really piling on these days. And by it I mean shit.

I can't remember if I've mentioned this before but I love this website. I probably have but I don't care. It makes me laugh and I'll take what I can get at this point.

Remember Me?

Oh hello, remember me? I'm Eric I write this blog. It's been a while. Sorry about that. Has my absence been conspicuous? As you may have surmised I returned to the home front for Thanksgiving. It was fine. Nothing to write home about. Or should I say nothing to write from home about to the entire world via the internet. Overall life is just kind of eh so I haven't been writing. But I know you guys all miss me, plus it's the holidays, so in that spirit I would like to pass along my favorite holiday tale. Enjoy.

Big Game Hunting

This is an ad for Dick's on a website I was reading this morning. What are the trying to suggest here?

Jeremy Grey: Have you ever shot one of these things before?

John Beckwith: The whole 17 years we've known each other I've been sneaking off to go on little hunting trips around the world. No, I don't even know what the fuck a quail is!

Jeremy Grey: I look totally ridiculous. Like why do I have to be in camouflage? So the big bad quail doesn't see me?

John Beckwith: I know. Why can't we hunt something cool like a hawk or an eagle, something with some talons?

Jeremy Grey: That'd be awesome. We could get something like big game. Even like a gorilla or a rhinoceros or a fucking human being! That'll get you jacked up.

John Beckwith: That's a little heavy.

Jeremy Grey: I mean like, hunt a human being right now, "Most Dangerous Game". Like a worthy adversary. Not a human being that's armed, but a clever, a clever, human being who knows the jungle. Or the woods.

TWSS Friday

What a glorious day. The sun is shining, the leaves are falling and the temperature is brisk. A perfect fall day. Nice try whoever controls the weather. You think I don't remember what a miserable week it's been? Oh I do. But who cares, it's the end of the week, it's beautiful outside, and it's That's What She Said Friday!

This weeks entry is from Wendy. Take it away Wendy:

So, Tony and I were sitting at lunch, and enters Brian, a graduatestudent that has a fellowship with teaching requirements. Brian hasto teach his lectures today (in Nov). and the following conversationensues

Tony: So you've been going to lecture all this time?

Brian: I come when I can.

Wendy: That's what he said.

I like that Wendy put the joke above herself. Being that she is a girl she could have easily gone with, "That's what I say," but she stuck to her roots. That's professionalism at it's finest.

Someone Up There Hates Me

I don’t have a car. I haven’t had one in several years. In many ways I find the situation preferable, really it’s just one less thing to worry about, and it saves me a lot of money. I’ve also, for the most part, never really had a problem getting where I need to go. A car isn’t really necessary in a city. In DC I always lived next to a metro stop. When I moved to Baltimore for work I moved to an apartment in Federal Hill less than a mile from work. I was within walking distance from anything I could possibly need. Recently I moved to Canton, meaning walking to work is no longer an option. Not a problem though, now I just ride my bike, it’s under a fifteen minute ride. Other than the dramatically increased chances of dying in tragic accident things aren’t much different than they were before. In fact I’m even getting a good workout on my way to and from work everyday and I look like I’m environmentally conscious even though that’s only by coincidence, so things are great. Until today of course.

There’s one factor I failed to account for in this whole riding a bike thing: rain. You see, I’m an umbrella person. When it’s raining and I have to walk to work I just stand under an umbrella (ella, ella, ella) and I’m reasonably dry the whole time. Riding a bike down a busy city street carrying an umbrella seems like a horrible idea to me (remember the whole tragic accident possibility) so I nixed that idea. But being an umbrella I am not in possession of a raincoat. Using both just seemed like overkill. Well this creates a dilemma for someone who has to get to work, in the rain, without a car.

I should mention at this point that I had my yearly performance evaluation on Monday. There was only really one thing negative my boss had to say. He doesn’t like my inconsistent schedule. You see I rarely come in at the same time everyday. Well that’s not entirely true, basically if I sleep at my house I’m in to work at 7, if I sleep at the gf’s house I’m in around 8:30. The boss doesn’t like this, he wants me to pick a time and stick to it. So despite having to ride my bike through a driving rain it would not really be a great idea to try and wait out the rain and be an hour or so and be late for work three days after I got the business for that very same thing.

Anyway, so I basically just have to go for it. I suck it up, throw on a jacket and head out. I was soaked within a block. The good news is though; once your clothes/body are completely saturated you hardly even notice anymore that it’s raining.

Another thing I should mention at this point. I normally carry a bag to work. It comes in pretty handy. Turns out Kenneth Cole doesn’t make good riding shoes so I have to wear an alternative until I get to work. Also I can throw in anything else I deem necessary for the day. Last night I left work without that bag. I have no idea why, I just left without even thinking about.

So I here I am, pedaling away with my thighs soaked and my hair dripping. It really wouldn’t have been a big deal if I was just wearing some sweat pants or something similar, carrying my work clothes in a bag so I could just change into dry clothes when I arrived. It turns out Banana Republic pants don’t really wick the water away like you would assume.

One more thing to point out. Sometimes I bring my lunch to work. It goes in spurts really; I’ll bring a lunch everyday for a week or two and then won’t bring it for another week or two. I haven’t brought a lunch in a couple weeks. Last night I went to the grocery for the express purpose of bringing my lunch this morning. I also don’t have a lunchbox. It’s kind of bobo, I just throw some crap in a plastic grocery bag. Which I then throw in my other bag. The bag I left at work last night.

So here I am, riding in the rain. Pants soaked, hair wet, trying to avoid cars spraying me with water, with a grocery bag draped on my wrist. As I’m riding I make a left turn. The grocery bag skims the bike tire. I think to myself, I better pull up some slack in this bag before it rips open. Too late, there goes lunch, in a puddle on Eliot St. Awesome.

I think God hates me. I really do. It’s not so much the rain. That happens, you get wet, you dry off, not a big deal. It’s the confluence of events that really sets it off. It’s like the rain is the kick in the nuts and the evaluation and the bag and the lunch are stomping on them when I’m down. It’s like the before storm of suck. And it’s a shitstorm.




Moral of the story: I’m buying a new car ASAP.

Going Commercial

From now on I’m basing all product decisions on television commercials. I probably won’t often be positively affected by a commercial. I rarely find myself watching TV and think, “You know what, it’s hilarious when those guys put shaving cream on Sasquatch’s hand and tickle his nose. I want some beef Jerky now and I want it be Jack Link’s Beef Jerky.” I am however always negatively affected by bad commercials. I see these horrendous ads and am left wondering how these people have jobs. I mean, did Chevy hire the monkeys from those Monster.com commercials to run the advertising department? That’s the only explanation for some of the decisions they’ve made. Hear are a few examples of products I will never use as a result of a bad commercial:

Charles Schwab – At some point in my life I’m going to have finances that need managing and you will be my absolute last choice to manage them. Why? Because cartoons are supposed to be funny dammit. I’m so sick of seeing this, expecting some hilarious punch line and just getting a cartoon bald guy bitching about his broker forgetting his name.

I hope no one was expecting a Garmin navigation system or a Dell because if you roll out Christmas commercials before Halloween I hate you and I’m not buying your stupid product.

Chevy – Good Lord, what are you thinking? This one has been beaten to death but I still had to mention it. If you have watched a single football game in the last two years you’re ready to assassinate John Cougar Mellencamp (but doesn’t assassinate imply that you’re killing some sort head of state? Yes it does, he’s the king of crappy songs about America, hence assassination). If you’re going to hammer a song into my head in order to sell trucks can you at least pick one that doesn’t suck? Oh and don’t by ad space to air your shitty commercial 16 times in 3 hours.

Viagra – A bunch of old guys jamming, junkyard band style, in a rundown barn about erectile dysfunction. Honestly who green lit that? Who possibly thought that was a good idea? Fortunately this isn’t a problem I’ve experienced, but if I do I’m going with Cialis. I’m willing to risk sudden loss of eyesight, at least I wouldn’t have to see that Viagra commercial anymore.

Miller Lite – I’m putting you on notice Miller Lite. I love Bob Slydell/Dr. Cox as much as the next guy but those “More Taste League” commercial aren’t good. You haven’t lost me yet but those Coors Light commercials with the football coaches are hilarious and they’re stealing my allegiance.

There are some products that probably could never lose me from a bad commercial. As much as I don’t care about a ballerina blogging from backstage or a pilot checking weather.com before take off I’m still using my iPod, it’s too awesome. And I’m going to go against the norm here, but I think Peyton Manning is funny, so Sony and DirectTV you’re still cool with me. Oh and I think I’m switching my deodorant to Old Spice, you grow chest hair just from putting it on!

I think I'm creating my own NaBloPoMo. No posting on the weekends. It's to much work. Actually the real problem is that I'm not at work. I've realized that I like do other things better than blogging. On the weekends I can do those things. I like blogging more than I like working, so I'm all for during the week, but not on the weekend. Plus all blogging on a Saturday does is give people more to catch up on on Monday, I like provide a distraction when you need a break at work but I don't want to get anyone fired because they have so many extra posts to read, because I know they are riveting and you wouldn't be able to pull yourself away no matter how much work you have on your desk.

That's What She Said Friday!

It's time for another installment of That's What She Said Friday! Are you guys pumped? I know I am. This week it's an all Aaron edition of TWSSF. Who's Aaron? It doesn't matter, it's just a coincidence that he had two good TWSSs this week.

First, Aaron was trying to turn on his laptop. Apparently the process has been slowed significantly as a result of some weather program he downloaded recently and it's been a cause of frustration for him.

Aaron: Dammit, I need more RAM.

Me: That's what she said.

Not my best effort but whatever, it's been a slow week.

Last night we were eating dinner after winning our first round playoff game and advancing to the City Finals next week in kickball (Ed. Note: Our kickball team is sick). Aaron pulled out his wallet to pay for dinner.

Jess: [referring to his wallet] It's so little.

Aaron: [dejectedly] That's what she said.

Have a good weekend suckers.

Welcome To My Life...

Here is a fun, short story that also serves a great look into my life and what it's like to be me:

Riding my bike to work this morning I pull up to the corner Pratt and Light St. waiting for traffic to subside so I could cross. As soon as I come to a stop, prop myself up on the curb, and wait patiently a truck comes flying in the right lane dousing me directly in the face with water. Only me. Not a single other person get wet. I know what you're thinking. Doesn't that only really happen to people in the movies? Apparently not. I know what else you're thinking. When was the last time it rained, isn't it really dry outside? You're right, it is very dry outside. It is just my luck that on a six lane highway the only vehicle in the right lane found the only puddle in all of Baltimore to splatter me in the face with seconds after stopping. And here's the best part, this wasn't a pool of rainwater collecting in a pothole or anything like that. It was a backed up inlet to a sewer line. Welcome to my life.




On a separate happier note someone was lead via google to my blog by perhaps the greatest keyword search ever. I just wanted to print it here again in hopes on becoming the #1 google search for:

john madden runs it up the a hole

Blogroll

When I started this blog about a year and a half ago I really didn't know anything about blogging. I didn't really have a good reason to start it either, it just wanted something to do when I was bored. In order to not feel like a dork I talked a few of my friends into starting their own blogs at the same time, hence my modest blogroll, "People Who Are Cool", to the right of the screen. Their all friends of mine. Well I couldn't help but notice recently that only one of those people, Baseblogger, actually posts regularly anymore. Well this poses a problem for me, I get very bored at work and have a lot of time to kill. Since my actual friends don't blog anymore I read the blogs of people I don't know. Turns out some people are pretty interesting, so I've now updated my blogroll to include "Other Cool People." I don't know any of them, these blogs cover a wide range of topics but they all have one thing in common, they're all much better at this than I am.

A Dilemma For Baseball That I Invented In My Head

Major League Baseball could be in big trouble. A series of events are falling into place that could result in a massive loss of its casual fan base. I’m not talking about the impending results of the Mitchell Investigation, although that could have catastrophic effects. After the strike in 1994 interest in baseball took a sharp decline. Stadiums were half empty. Fans left in droves, frustrated with both players and owners. Two events brought the fans back, and baseball back from it’s near death (maybe not death, but perhaps becoming less popular than soccer, I’m not sure which is worse).

The first was Cal Ripken breaking Lou Gehrig’s 2130 consecutive games played streak in 1995. Now that’s something Americans can get behind, a record based on going to work everyday. Trust me I know, I have several perfect attendance awards from elementary school, and people loved me for it. The second event of course was the home run chase in 1998. Fans were riveted by nightly updates of Sammy Sosa’s and Mark McGuire’s assault on Roger Maris’ single season home run record. They both ended up breaking the mark and baseball was back to being America’s pastime.

Those two things brought the casual fan back into the game, but Ripken’s streak ended in 1998 and he retired in 2001. The home run record has not only already been broken, but it’s all been tainted by the cloud of steroids. So what has kept the casual fan interested? Why is the popularity of baseball still high? Many reasons of course, but I think there is one unifying element among the majority of average fans that keeps them watching every night: hating the New York Yankees. Obviously there are millions of diehards who love the game as it is and root for they’re favorite team no matter what. But these are the people who never left, the strike might have left a stain on the game but they were still fans. On the other hand there are an equal number of people who would tell you they like baseball but don’t know much about the game other than what they see on ESPN occasionally. These are the people who needed to be told who Matt Holliday was during the World Series this year. They couldn’t tell you the third starter on their favorite team is, but the do know one thing. Namely they hate the Yankees because they “buy” championships.

Herein lies the problem for MLB. The Yankees are falling apart at the seams. Alex Rodriguez is gone. Joe Torre is gone. Any Pettitte opted out of his contract today and may choose to retire. Mariano Rivera and Jorge Posada are free agents. It’s not a great offseason to be a Yankee fan, but this could be bad for baseball as well. Hypothetically let’s say the team does lose all of those players to free agency; that is close to $70 million in payroll subtracted from last season. Add to it Roger Clemens and his $16 million retiring and the Yankees could potentially have only the fifth or sixth highest payroll coming into the season. What will people have to latch onto as a reason to hate them? Because that’s the thing, somewhere along the line it became more fun for the average fan to root against other teams than it did to root for their own. What happens when the evil empire is no longer evil? By June your standard Orioles fan, for example, has given up on the season, they’re no longer interested in watching the fate of their own team. All they have left is hoping the Yankees and their enormous payroll underachieve in the playoffs again. They revel in it, as do many other fans of many other teams. Well there is a chance the Yankees will start the season with a payroll similar to the O’s and expectations not much higher. If that’s the case then by June when they don’t care about their team anymore they have nothing else to care about. They’ll just quit on baseball altogether and this can’t be a scenario that makes MLB happy.

Here’s the kicker, the thing that will make people heads explode: the Yankees, instead of underachieving with a huge payroll like they have the last few years, could just as easily overachieve with a reasonable payroll next year. Then people really wouldn’t know what to do. Who hates the underdog? All of those players leaving in free agency leave gaping holes in the lineup and rotation but it doesn’t exactly leave the cupboard bare. There is still plenty of talent. Instead of being the odds on favorite to win it all they would be a team with a ton of question marks who could surprise some people come September and October. What if Hideki Matsui, Johnny Damon, and Jason Giambi stay healthy all year? Add in Jeter, Cano, Abreu, and Cabrera and that’s still a formidable lineup. They might be starting the season with three rookie or second year guysin the starting rotation. But between Phil Hughes, Joba Chamberlain, and Ian Kennedy if two of those three guys live up to even 80% of there potential then combined with Wang that would be a fairly solid rotation. These are all big ifs, but there not that unlikely. Do I think the Yankees have a shot at the World Series? Probably not. Can they surprise a lot people? Absolutely, and that is the last thing a lot of people want to see. They’ll hate that they can’t hate it. Ever Yankee basher has a standard set of arguments that they rarely deviate from but they wouldn’t be able to use any of them anymore.

Every story needs a villain. MLB needs that to be the Yankees. People are celebrating their demise now, but they’ll get bored. And eventually they’ll get bored with baseball altogether if they don’t have the Yankees to root against.

Of course there is always the new Yankees: the Boston Red Sox.

I'm a failure

Long time readers of this blog may recall Operation: F U Matt and Jake, my quest to win a bet and prove my awesomeness by beating the odds and running a marathon in 3 hours and 30 minutes by the end of the year. Well apparently I’m not at all awesome. Strike that, I’m very awesome, I’m just lacking a little bit of awesomeness in this case. As if I needed any salt in the wounds of my failure I read this today. Katie Holmes ran a marathon I didn’t. Now that’s a kick in the junk. Although I guess a celebrity has a little more free time and resources to train but still, it’s Katie Holmes. Maybe athletic prowess is some Scientological virtue so Tom made her do it; I’m probably being too hard on myself.

It got me thinking though. I was a runner in high school, not a bad one at that. I’ve run long distances before, I’ve trained hard, and I’m used to the pain. So why is it that other seemingly nonathletic people can manage this feat of athleticism and I can’t? Clearly it’s a problem of motivation, which Matt correctly assumed in making the bet. It’s not that I can’t do it; it’s that I really can’t find a good enough reason to motivate myself to do it. People have all sorts of reasons to try and run a marathon. Some people use it as a way to get themselves in shape or lose weight. That one doesn’t work for me. I actually lose weight when I don’t work out. If I don’t work out regularly I look like the Olsen twins long lost brother. It’s not cool. So I gain weight from running. Others run just to prove something to themselves. Also not appealing to me. I’m pretty confident in my ability to jog 26 miles, not to cheapen the feat, it’s very difficult and something everyone should be proud of. I just think I can do it. What it comes down to is I’m highly competitive, and some sort of challenge is probably the only thing that would provide proper motivation. I thought a bet would work. I guess not. I think what it’s going to take is to actually have a person to race. Who wants in? Anyone? Crap, I’m never doing this.

Oops

So much for NaBloPoMo. I mean, I was pretty skeptical about my chances of pulling this off, but I was kind of expecting to last more than two days. I have a good excuse though, weekends are just really busy for me sometimes. Here was my day yesterday:

• 10:00 - Flag football game.
• 11:30 - Lunch with the gf before she heads out of town for the rest of the weekend
• 1:00 - Hang out Aaron's house with the wedding party before Dave's wedding
• 5:00 to midnight - Dave and Lindsay's wedding

That's a completely full day, when was I supposed to write a post? I'm taking a mulligan on this one. Besides, know one reads blogs on the weekend, that shouldn't even count.

That's What She Said Friday!

NaBloPoMo is going to be totally easy. There are 5 Friday's in November. Almost 17% of the month's posts will be That's What She Said Fridays. This will be a cake walk. Although I don't think I've ever posted anything on a weekend, so that might cause a problem. Anyway, on with it:

Everytime Leslie puts on any type of perfume she thinks it's funny to spray me with it also. She did it again this morning leading to this exchange:

Me: You always squirt me with that stuff.
Leslie: That's what she said.

Isn't that acronym awfully close to NAMBLA

November, along with being National Beard Month (not a real holiday), is National Blog Posting Month or NaBloPoMo for short (not particularly short, also not a real holiday). I had no idea this existed until reading blogs of other bloggers who are participating. A participant is supposed to write a blog post everyday for the month of November. I don’t know what the point is. Is it a celebration of blogging? I guess technically it’s a challenge. I’m thinking about participating mostly because I like a good challenge. I want to see how long I can last. Here’s my dilemma though: I haven’t had a quality post in months. I think I’m out of ideas. Would it really benefit anyone for me to try and force something everyday? Inevitably it would be about 90% crap. Really how many Youtube clips and that’s what she said jokes can anyone stand? Screw I’ll give it a shot. Get ready for a barrage of 200 word posts and stories about what I ate for dinner last night. It’s going to be awesome.

You wouldn't hire a clown to fix the john would you?

National Treasure Robert Goulet passed away today at age 73. Here's my tribute to him:

You wouldn't hire a clown to fix the john would you?

I would like to congratulate the New York Yankees, 2008 American League Champions

The New York Yankees officially sealed up the American League Championship today. The World Series isn’t a lock yet, but let’s face it, they will be playing a National League team so it kind of is. The curse has been lifted. And no I’m not talking about Alex Rodriguez opting out of his contract. It a widely held thought that they could not win with him at third base. Even though he’s a selfish dick, I’m not sure I agree with that, he’s a selfish dick who happens to be able to destroy baseballs; regardless he is not the cursed soul that has been plaguing the Yankees as of late. Today the Yankees announced that they have offered a contract to Joe Girardi to manage the ball club. Along with that announcement it was stated that Don Mattingly, current bench coach and also a candidate to manage the team, will not be returning to the coaching staff. Thus the curse is lifted.

The Yankees lost the 1981 World Series to the Los Angeles Dodgers 4 games to 2. In 1982 Don Mattingly was called up to play first base. He went on to a stellar (all be it injury shortened) 14 year career. Coincidentally the Yankees went on a 14 year World Series and pennant drought. Despite the lack of winning Mattingly was and is one of the most beloved players (and my personal favorite player) ever to put on the pinstripes. And yet I’ve never been happier to see him take them off. The year after his retirement in 1995 the Yankees took down the Atlanta Braves to win their first series in 18 years. This started a run that everyone knows about. 6 World Series in 8 years, their last one being a losing effort to Marlins in 2003. Before the 2004 season Mattingly was hired as the Yankees hitting coach. The team has only eclipsed the first round of the playoffs once in the preceding 4 years. Obviously Don Mattingly is cursed, when you combine his aura with ARod’s you have a recipe for disaster. Or at least a recipe for losing wild card series to the Tigers.

A few hours ago I was unsure of the prospects for success in 2008. Alex Rodriguez opting out is a possible snowball that could mean losing the likes of Mariano Rivera, Andy Pettitte, and Jorge Posada. Now I’m not worried at all, it’s a lock, the black Mattingly cloud has been lifted and soon the sun will be shining down on a last run in Yankee Stadium.

I Think I Might Throw Up

Worst sports weekend ever. What the hell happened.

TWSSF

I'm really glad I invented That's What She Said Friday for a multitude of reasons. Mainly because it's hilarious and a phenomenon that's sweeping the nation. Literally tens of people are tuning each week to find out what she said. The other reason though is because I got nothin'. I mean without this I'd barely ever post. I mean, it's not like a lead an exceedingly boring life. I mean I'm homeless and don't have a car. Things happen, I just rarely find the inspiration to write about it lately. And forget about me coming up with my own ideas, that's not really in my wheel house. I lack the necessary characteristics for that. Namely talent, creativity and writing ability. Maybe my life is boring. I'll tell you what, maybe next week I'll just document each day of the week and leave it up to you, the audience, to decide whether my life is awesome (which I think it is) or boring (which is what you would assume from reading this blog). So look forward to that. Anyway, on to the point of this post, this might be the raunchiest TWSSF ever and I love it. Here goes:

Last Sunday morning a few friends were laying/dying around Mike's apartment after participating in the previous nights Homecoming festivities. I was laying on the floor and Hotmetal/HoOtmetal was sitting in a chair above me swinging a key on a lanyard around his finger when the following conversation ensued:

Me: Hotmetal can you stop doing that, I feel like you're going to let it go on my face and I'm not comfortable with that.
Mike: That's what she said.


I don't like money shots apparently.

Homecoming

Last weekend was homecoming for the Alma mater. I'm always a fan of that weekend, mostly because you get to see a bunch of old friends and pretend like you're in college again. And since college is awesome, that's awesome. I won't bore you with a lot of details, mostly the weekend was spent watching Hotmetal get really drunk and do really stupid stuff with few head exploding conversations mixed in there. Here's a snippet of conversation from lunch Saturday afternoon that I think sums the whole thing up nicely (I'm paraphrasing because my memory is a little foggy, can't imagine why):

Hotmetal: I haven't talked to Biff in a while, I'll have to catch up with that guy sometime.
Val: You were hanging out with him all night last night.
Hotmetal: Oh. I'll have to catch up with him again sometime.

TWSSF

It's Friday, you know what that means. Today is our first ever Celebrity That's What She Said Firday. Bumbling retard John Madden was kind enough to provide us a great TWSS this week.

With 6 secs left in the first half, the Seahawks were about kick a FG. John Madden is talking about the rule that allows the coaches to call timeouts from the sidelines, and he says the following.

"Well they're going to have to change that rule. Because it comes from the back of the kicking team. And I don't like stuff that comes from the back"

Craig and Matt simultaneously said, "That's what she said."

Out, damned spot! out, I say!

The damn apple I was eating this morning shot juice all over my tie. That's going to stain. See what happens when you try and be healthy? I think I'm going back to cupcakes for breakfast.



(I can't really be mad at the apple, it was delicious)

Rogaine for one please

A couple of months ago I was a groomsman in a friends wedding. It was a great time. Yesterday the groom emailed everyone a bunch of pictures from the reception that confirmed that we were all having a great time. While perusing the photo album though I came to two startling realizations that have scarred me terribly:

1. I am awfully unphotogenic (not a word). First of all I have a horrible picture smile. I simply cannot fake a smile. For some reason I seemed to convey the exact opposite emotion, I just look mean. Second, I’m rarely actually looking at the camera. There are a few pictures where the entire wedding party is smiling happily while I’m looking off in the distance scowling at something. It looks like someone just punched my dog in the face off camera. Why do I look so pissed when I smile? I need to work on this problem.

2. I’m balding a rapid pace. It’s one thing to notice a few hairs on your pillow; it’s a whole different ballgame when the bright lights of a camera flash reveal large patches of scalp in a picture. This is awful. I feel like I’m being cut down in the prime of my life. I just turned 27 on Monday and I’ll be bald by 28 without some serious help. I’ll look like a freak show. Seriously, when have you ever seen a red headed bald guy? I’ve been racking my brain to come up with someone and I can’t. I think I might be the first, that’s not a feat I hoped to accomplish. I think it’s time to look into some treatment options, I’m very vain and this would be to big of a blow to the ego to recover from.

A Metaphor of My Life

Frequent, longtime readers of I’ll Think of Something have, more than likely, by now been able to figure out the one overarching theme to my life: I am an abject disaster. Seriously, my life is a mess. Eric Syndrome dominates every facet and I can’t escape its wrath. It is an affliction I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. The most irritating part of it all is that instead of something going seriously wrong I’m just constantly faced with these moments of unpleasantness that may slowly drive me insane. It’s like I have someone poking me in the back of the head continuously until the bore a hole through my skull when it would be much easier for someone to take a baseball bat to my head and put me out of my misery in an instant.

Let my take you through my morning, at that end of this you’re going to think to yourself, “well that was relatively innocuous, stop being such a baby.” What you need to keep in mind is that this wasn’t an aberration; this is an example of the type of thing that happens to me all the time. Anyway, I’ve been staying at a friend’s house for a few days, as a result of living out of a bag, and being absentminded, I find myself unprepared for certain situations. Last night I realized that I had forgotten contact solution. Luckily one of my hosts happened to wear contacts himself and was able to provide me with some, problem solved easily enough. What I failed to realize is that there are two kinds of contact solution. Jason’s brand of choice is the sort that requires an enzyme disc at the bottom of your case to neutralize the chemicals in the solution. Without said disc your eye immediately catches fire upon contact with the contact. At least that’s what it felt like while I was learning this lesson the hard way. My right eye teared up like I was watching Rudy sack the Georgia Tech quarterback while everyone chanted his name, and my eye was bloodshot. I looked like I’d been taking bong hits for three days straight; not a good office look. I frantically tried to remove the fire lens but when you’re going through an eye trauma apparently your body’s natural reaction is to blink furiously. That makes it difficult to remove a contact lens. Fortunately the severe pain went away after about 30-45 seconds. I thought that was the last of it. “That wasn’t so bad,” I thought to myself. I can deal with a few seconds of pain if that’s what it’s going to take to get my contacts in this morning, so I went for the left eye. My assessment was wrong. The pain didn’t just magically disappear in my right eye, what actually happened is that all the blinking popped right lens out of my eye and down the drain of the sink. I was able to figure that out by the fact that my left eye still hurts right now.

Ok so now I have a problem, I have a set of contact lenses that may have just made me legally blind, so I probably shouldn’t try and wear them. Normally this dilemma has a simple solution: I should just where my glasses to work. Um yeah. The thing about that is, remember a few days ago when my girlfriends car was broken into and a bunch of my belongings were stolen? One of those items happened to be my glasses. That plan is out the window. The shattered rear driver’s side window to be exact. On to plan B. I have two week disposable lenses, it’s not a problem to just pop in a new pair right? Oooh, one thing though. Remember that I’ve been homeless for the last two weeks and I don’t really have easy access to anything I own? That includes my contact lenses. Happily my stuff is at Matt’s house, which is in the same neighborhood. Even more happily he is awake when I call him and not heading to work for a little while. Unhappily I can’t drive over there because I have the vision of a fruit bat and would likely pull a Billy Joel and drive into someone’s living room. So I have to walk 2 miles, blindly over to Matt’s at 6:45 in the morning to get new pair of contacts. I have to cross some heavily trafficked roads and all I can barely see cars coming. Somehow I Mr. Magooed myself through traffic and made my way over to his house, but not before walking two blocks too far. Why did I walk two blocks too far? Because the street signs are just high enough on the poles that I can’t read them without glasses. My plan for the morning was to wake up at 6 and be at work by 6:45, thus allowing me to be home from work early enough to enjoy a relaxing afternoon. I didn’t get to work until 8:30, meaning I won’t get home until after 6. I hate my life sometimes.

I do however love the symmetry of it all. Everything comes full circle. You have an event that seems singular and final: some asshole breaks Leslie’s car window and steals my stuff (which is all utterly worthless and useless to them and yet has a very high value to me), a police report is filed, and the window is fixed. You think it’s over right, oh no friend, just when I need a pair of glasses the most this jumps up and bites me in the ass. Then my homelessness comes into play. Seemingly unrelated crappy events affecting other crappy events to make them even crappier, my life is an episode of Lost. Here’s the real kick in the junk of it all though: today is my Birthday. Happy f’ing birthday, at least the day can’t get any worse.

TWSSF

It's That's What She Said Friday, but not just any TWSSF. It's a special TWSSF because today is the birfday of two of our most frequent contributors and loyal readers. Have a happy B day Dave and Amanda, I hope it doesn't suck. That's what she said. Here's an email I got from Leslie this week:

Kristin was feeling like she may be getting sick so during lunch she went over to whole foods to pick up some vitamin C. She came back with a big bottle of these huge green pills. The bottle instructs you to take 6 every 3 hours, which seems ridiculous and lethal.
Not to be deterred, Kristin confirmed "Its ok guys Im really good at swallowing things."
Morgan: "Thats what she said"
To make it even funnier Kristin didnt even hear Morgan because she was too focused on the pill popping. I was just sitting at my desk giggling for a few minutes then Kristin said, "What? What did I say? Ohh Im good at swallowing? I knew that came out wrong." (Ed. Note: I wou'd have added a second TWSS after that last comment, but that's just me.


Working in the field that I do (structural engineering) I come across some fairly hilarious terms. Being extremely immature I often laugh at these terms. An example:
A coworker was on the phone with a client discussing the final plans for some building I don't know anything about when he said, "We're going to have trouble getting it erected." What I heard was, "I'm going to have trouble getting an erection," obviously I found this hialrious. In my head I said, that's what he said. I almost said it out loud but then I thought if I said that it might sound like I was projecting some sort of personnal problem so I tried to think of a way to say it without sounding like I had erectile dysfunction. The best I could come up with was "That's what she hopes he doesn't say." I almost said that but then I thought that would sound like I was trying to hard so I wanted to come up with something better. By then the moment had passed. Moral of the story? I'm a nerd.

Hump Day Indeed!

Are you little bored at work? Maybe feeling a little gloomy? Midweek doldrums have me a little down as well but I know just the remedy to cheer us both up. It's a video of a guy getting raped by a tripod. Enjoy:









One these days soon I'll regain the energy and the desire to write actual posts again instead of this crap. As awesome as that crap is.

Trivia Time!

This is a picture of my leg:




That is seriously the worst scrape I've ever had. I couldn't sleep at all on Saturday because it was ozzing puss everywhere and sticking to the bed. I kept making that teeth sucking noise like Peter Griffin after he banged his knee. So it begs the following question, eshewing comments about how pale and skinny my legs are, how did I hurt my leg?

Your title How did I injure my leg? I got a little overzealous doing tricks on my hog and crashed I slid into a manhole on the street just to prove I was a badass who doesn Someone disrespected my lady, the scrape was an unfortunate side effect to the beating I gave him defending her honor I fell down playing touch football other view results

TWSSF

It's Friday. You know what that means. It's time for another installment of That's What She Said Friday! I know it's pretty lame to not post all week and then come back with this but I'm doing it anyway. I've been busy, get off my back. From Dave, enjoy (he doesn't use capital letters):

short and simple:

my key was kind of jamming in the front door and not unlocking easy, so i sprayed some WD-40 on it and then it worked pretty well.

so i say to my roomate, "it is working better, i lubed it up." and he made the obvious reply "is it thats what she said friday yet?"

and then he used his key and said that he thought it was a little too loose. so my front door is a whore now.

An Apology

In lieu of the usual That’s What She Said Friday I would like to use this time to apologize. You may recall my post on Wednesday in which I referred to karma with a derogatory term. That was a grave mistake that I sincerely apologize for. If I were to give you, my readers, some advice it would be to treat karma with the respect it deserves. Do not temp fate. If you do there will be consequences. For example, let’s say you wrote a blog post and in said post you called karma a bitch, it’s like that less than 2 hours later you will come home from work to find your car windows smashed and all your stuff stolen. Seriously karma? That was cold blooded. It wasn’t even my car. Did you really have to take out my transgressions on my girlfriend’s car just so some bum could steal my stuff? Not cool karma, but I learned my lesson. Again, I apologize for calling you a bitch and now on I will have nothing but the utmost reverence for your awesome power.

That Bitch Got Me Again

On several occasions I have used the plight of our fair cities homeless population as blog fodder. I’m not certain if this makes me a bad person or not, because you can never really know the circumstances of a person’s situation until you talk to them. And I’m rarely in the business of chatting up anyone on the street, much less a homeless man. So I think it might make me a bad person, but really it’s so easy, how often do you see homeless people doing something crazy that you could write 1,000 hilarious words about? It happens to me constantly. Here’s an example: last night I was eating outside at Panera with Leslie, on the corner was a homeless man harassing anyone who walked by. He was really getting in peoples faces, but it was totally working because some guy gave him his leftover PF Chang’s to get him to leave his girlfriend alone. Maybe it’s just me but I would have to be in some real duress to give someone my Chang’s spicy chicken, so I guess his tactics were effective. As he went to hassle someone new he dropped his change cup spilling quarters and nickels everywhere along the sidewalk. The ensuing scramble was one of the saddest things I think I’ve ever seen. The man was pretty frantic to pick up his change and kept trying to get people to stop and help him. I being a bad person found a little amusement out of it though, because the guy was clearly jacked up on some foreign substance. Every time he bent down to pick up a coin he’d wobble and have to brace himself before falling over. Eventually he devised a system where he would spread his legs really wide, then bend over and gather change. Sort of like a tripod, the wider the base the more stable. Ultimately, he recouped his losses and was on his way to enjoy some leftover lettuce wraps and live happily ever after.

The point is normally I would’ve made fun of this guy having no idea whether he deserved it or not. Now though I think karma has jumped up to bite me. You see, as of this week I will be joining the ranks of the homeless I so mercilessly belittle. My lease is up on Sunday, my roommate is moving in with her boyfriend and I am left without a place of my own. Well not really, I’m moving in with a friend who recently bought a house but the room won’t be available for another couple of weeks. So I’m out on the streets. Well not really that either, fortunately I have neither a drug or alcohol problem that has alienated everyone in my life who I could ask for help. I have plenty of friends and a wonderful girlfriend who will keep me from being a total vagrant until I can move in to the new place. But still, I’ll be a nomad living out of a bag for two or the weeks. It’s pretty annoying and it’s definitely my karmic payback for using the homeless for comedic gain. Plus what if this is where it all starts? Maybe this is the beginning of a slippery slope. It starts with me staying in a different house every few days. Then someone says, “Hey why don’t you try some of this crack?” And I’m all, “Sure what’s the worst that can happen?” Then bam, I’m a homeless guy begging for change and getting made fun of by some loser with a blog. That would suck, but at least I’d get some free PF Chang’s every once in a while.

You Have Questions and I Have Answers

To the person who found my blog through the Google search "my knee is swollan and and its all liquid what do i do?" I have to the advice you're looking for. First off I'm going to assume you meant swollen and not some weird slang implying that your knee is swallowing things. It's an easy mistake to make. You're probably experiencing some discomfort that is affecting your typing ability. For starters I'm going to tell you what not to do. Do not go to a doctor. They're totally useless. Only in it for the money. They don't have your best interests at heart like I do. The solution is simple. Just rummage through your junk draw and find that sewing kit you bought a few years ago because the hem came out of your suit pants. Just treat your knee like an abnormally large blister. Take the needle for the sewing kit and pop that bitch. Be careful though, there's probably a lot of pressure built up in there and a small pinhole will cause a pretty powerful spray. If you're worried about staining your shirt and/or wall just use a steak knife instead. You also might want to be on the look out for infections, so you should sterilize your knee stabbing instrument. Simply running it under hot tap water should suffice. After that wrap an ace bandage around that sucker and you should be good to go. You'll playing hockey or wrestling bears or drinking Labatts or whatever else people do in Ontario in no time.

Your Welcome,

Eric

TWSS Friday's Triumphant Return

That's What She Said Friday is back! I missed the last two weeks and was pretty thoroughly berated for it. Sorry for having a job that sometimes gets in the way of you being entertained by juvenile humor. I won't let it happen again. Jerks. I wasn't going to do it again this week because caught some sort of deadly virus on a plane this weekend. Or a cold, either way I feel like crap. Airplanes are cess pools of disease by the way. Especially ones flying between Cleveland and Baltimore. Anyway, on with the festivities.

Here's one I stole from Jake:

Went on a SHA golf outing today. Frank, a 55 year old head of the hydro department, picks up a golf ball and slowly reads the label on it aloud, "Noodle... long and soft". Without hesitation, Denny, a 60 some year old highway designer, blurts out "That's what your wife said." I guess that's the old balls way of saying TWSS.

It's nice to see the forefathers of TWSS still have it.

Next:

For some reason Brian thought it would be a good idea to try and sharpen a Twizzler and use it as a pencil. This process is harder than you think. Also it produces a conversation resulting in no less than 5 top notch TWSSs. I only remember one (Don't forget I'm nearly on my deathbed, it may have caused some sort of neurological damage), here's how it went:

Bingo was trying to sharpen the Twizzler himself but was having a harder time operating the manual pencil sharpener and holding the Twizzler firm enough to be sharpened.

Brian: (Now holding the Twizzler) You get it going and I'll stick it in as hard as I can.
Bingo: (Cranking furiously at the pencil sharpener)
Me: That's what he said.

Yes

Hail to the Redskins!
Hail Victory!
Braves on the Warpath!
Fight for old D.C.!
Run or pass and score -- we want a lot more!
Beat 'em, Swamp 'em,
Touchdown! -- Let the points soar!
Fight on, fight on 'Til you have won
Sons of Wash-ing-ton. Rah!, Rah!, Rah!
Hail to the Redskins!
Hail Victory!
Braves on the Warpath!
Fight for old D.C.!


Can I start getting excited yet?

Hell Yeah!

I often get great enjoyment out of seeing the Google searches that send people to this blog. Some people search for some pretty odd things. My most frequent hits come from folks who want to read the writings from people likeminded in their hatred of birds. That and peeing outside. Apparently I’m one of the leading experts on peeing outside. Today though I received a hit from a Google search that could not make me happier, seriously it’s awesome. According to Google I am the world’s #1 authority on “something badass.” That’s right, perform a search for “something badass” and this blog is the first thing you’ll see. I figure this means one of two things:

1. I am the official last word on all things badass. If you need to know if
you or something around you is in fact badass I’m the one to talk. Or…

2. I’m the biggest badass in the world.

You know what? Strike that, it doesn’t mean on of those two, it’s both of those two. If I get final say on what is badass or not then I say I’m the biggest badass in the world. And if I ‘m the biggest badass in the world then who could possibly be more of an expert on what is or isn’t badass? So for future reference if you ever are on the fence as to whether something is badass or not feel free to email me or leave a comment and I’d be more than happy to provide an answer to your query. Or I might just say f you, because I’m badass and I don’t have to answer your stupid questions if I don’t want.

An Open Letter to The Guy Who Cut Me Off In Traffice This Morning

Dear Guy Who Cut Me Off In Traffic This Morning,

Kudos to you sir on your bold maneuvers through the city streets this morning, I must say you caught me completely off guard. When you were in the far left lane of a six lane road with your left turn signal on, and I pulled up in the lane next to you at the stop light I certainly was not expecting that upon the light turning green you would immediately veer right to try and get in my lane totally cutting me off and nearly sideswiping me. You gave me the old okey doke, fake left, go right. That gets me every time. Even more unexpected was your incredulous hand gesture you gave me when I honked my horn to prevent you from driving directly into my fender. Apparently I’m the asshole for be in the path of your insanely erratic driving. I apologize, next time I’ll be sure to yield for people driving diagonally across the flow of traffic. I should’ve known better. It got even better though when you decided you did in fact want to make that desired left turn a few blocks later. The only problem was that it came from the right lane of the intersection thus adding the driver of a large SUV to the list of people who had nearly t-boned you this morning. Unfortunately he made the same mistake as I did in thinking that you were at fault. Although I would have to side with him on this matter. Based on a very small sample size it seems as though 20 out of every 60 seconds you spend on the road you’re being honked at. This should be a sign to you. Perhaps you need to reevaluate things. Maybe take another drivers’ education course. Or take more taxis. It seems to me that the only reason you’re still alive is because of the safe driving of the people around, which obviously you don’t realize because you drive with your eyes closed. I hope you can take my advice to heart, no one to see flying through a windshield one day.

Sincerely,

Eric

Criminals Aren't Smart Sometimes.

Last weekend was somewhat disorienting for me. I guess it was the extra day but really the whole weekend seemed strange. It really feels like it was much longer than three days. Probably because I had a horrendous hangover on Sunday. You know the kind of day when you’re really hung over and you don’t get out of bed until the late afternoon, but that later that night you’re feeling better so you end up doing something and it feels like it was two separate days? That was my whole weekend I think. As a result it’s really thrown me off my blog game. I’m out of sorts. It’s a combination of things: I can’t think of anything to write, I don’t feel like writing about things I could write about (like how I went Maryland State Fair on Friday and it was the trashiest most awful/awesome thing I’ve ever seen, really I highly recommend it), and I don’t really know what day it is.

I decided to troll around my usually news sites this morning to see if there was anything I felt the need to comment on. Luciano Pavarotti died; I figured I could write something funny about that. You know, something along the lines of: What a shocker, didn’t see that one coming blah blah blah. Make a joke about cannolis or meat sauce or something. Basically the standard Pavarotti is fat joke. Then I saw he actually died of pancreatic cancer, not something related to his morbid obesity. Also it’s in poor taste and not that funny to make fun of dead people. Or fat people. Especially internationally beloved dead, fat people. I’m a dick.

I thought I might just give up. Put up a TWSSF post tomorrow and call it a week. Then I ran across this gem. A man shot himself in the leg fleeing the scene of a robbery inside RFK stadium. There are just so many great parts of this story. Apparently when security half-assedly (it’s a word) waves those wands around my crotch their doing absolutely nothing to ensure my safety because this dude didn’t seem to have a problem getting a gun past them. Clearly he isn’t some criminal mastermind who devised an ingenious scheme to get a gun on the premises for the sake of a robbery because he attempted to rob a vendor ON THE FIFTH FLOOR. Seriously, the top floor of the stadium is where you decide to stage this daring raid? Not the first floor so you can run right outside and get away. Not to mention that’s the upper deck. Where the poor people sit. Who’s buying more $9 personal pizzas; the people fighting a nose bleed a mile high in the bleachers or the people in the box seats? I’ll grant you one reprieve, there’s probably less security on that floor, but you still have to run past the security on all the other floors. Although based on their previously stated wanding skills it’s probably not shocking that you managed to make it outside before they caught you. Maybe you thought this out better than I thought robber. I just wish I was there to see the chase. Imagine how hilarious it was watching them wind back and forth down those ramps. It’s like a high speed chase down a spiral staircase.

Now about the gun. Clearly the plan was to ditch it when you were outside the stadium. My advice to you sir, ditch it before shooting yourself in the leg. Running is hard with a gunshot wound.

Here’s another query I have: why travel from Baltimore to robbed a stadium in D.C.? There’s a stadium in Baltimore as well. I’ve been there, it’s nice. Also, you know those security guards they have at RFK pretending to care if you bring a gun in? Well they don’t even have those in Baltimore. Its fool proof, not even the slightest chance getting caught before you pull off the robbery. Plus instead of hopping fences and shooting yourself in the leg you could just run home, kick your feet up, and count your money. All in all I’d say that was a pretty awful plan. My favorite part of this article though was the last sentence. Thanks for mentioning the Nats won, that’s just icing on the cake.