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.