Wednesday, February 22, 2006

I'm Afraid of Racoons


At about 2:30 A.M. a few months back, I walk up the stairs to my back porch and I'm staring eye to eye with a 30 pound Racoon. This thing was a MONSTER! I swear to god. These things freak me out. Oddly enough, it didn't eat me. It didn't even try. It ran up my stairs and hid, trapped on the porch. Infront of my door. I wasn't going up there. Hell no! The bad news was that our front door was broken at the time and we couldn't get in from outside; it could only be opened from the inside. My roommate was home, but had to be up in two and half hours for work. So, what do I do? I call and wake my roommate's ass up to let me in.
Racoons are scary.
Slightly less frightening than this, but frightening nonetheless.

It's Not Even 10:30 Yet


Things that have made me angry so far today:
- People that defend Manny for being a crappy teammate and selfish person.
- Goddamned SUV's that refuse to hit 25 mph because the road is too bumpy. You're in an SUV! I'm late for work, dammit!
- People that are surprised that Manny is acting like this. So, you're thinking, "Lance, what's the correct response?" INDIFFERENCE, indifference is the correct answer. Don't defend him! Why shouldn't Ortiz or Varitek take this kind of stance? They're all as important to the team as Manny, so why shouldn't they get preferential treatment?
But c'mon, how can this make you angry? Was it not expected? Manny asked to be traded. He wasn't traded. Like an infant being toilet trained, he's now making his play to regain power (not as good as the infants smearing feces on the wall... at least manny goes IN the wall).
Just shrug your shoulders, sigh and hope that he hits 50 home runs, drives in 160 runs, hits .360 and robs Johnny Damon of a home run over the green monster.
- This didn't really piss me off, but I think it's going to be my new phrase. "You have an agenda." Whenever anyone annoys me, I'm going to accuse them of having an agenda.
- Why does my client think it's appropriate to go to the pizza joint at 9:30 in the morning? He asks me where it is. I tell him it's the road two blocks from here and he has to just look for the address number, or the sign. He proceeds walk in the incorrect direction, comes back says he couldn't find it and hands me the menu. The friggen' joint doesn't open for another hour. Who eats pizza at 9:30 A.M.? Well, if the voices told me to, I suppose I would too.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Iraqi Ovaries Miraculously Drop into Testes

First of all, the Prizblog's Lost/post-9-11 metaphor was taken down a peg last night. It was almost as predictable as the Panthers losing the NFC championship after Simmons made them his pick. There were/are similarities with Locke being the dalai-esque pacifist, and Jack developing his own nuclear arms program in the hatch. But if Jack is the Dick Cheney of Lost, don't you think he'd have let Sayid beat the balloon rider? I mean let's face it, don't we know why Dick Cheney shot Whittington? Whittington knows where Walt is. And if Locke is truly the dirty hippy Prizblog asserts he is, how could he be so easily pursuaded by Sayid to be an accomplice in this torture? (Possibly to get back at Jack for not involving him in the "army?" Partisan politics)
Whatever the answer is, it was good to see Sayid scaring the bejesus out of... well, me. I was tired of his sissy boy, longing for that Gold Card chaser. If you're going to long, make it enjoyable to watch. As the emperor said to Luke, "use your hate." Sayid hate fisted balloon boys face real nice like.

While that was heartwarming how dare they tease us with those promo's showing the hatch clock on all zero's. Now, all zero's means time is up (apparently it actually means you're into hyroglyphics time). If this was the NBA the refs would go to the replay and see that the scoreboard was red before Locke's fingers left the keyboard and disallow his entry. Know when this clock situation is going to be solved? Episode one, season three. Approximately, September 20th. Goddamned cliff hangers.

Quick aside: I find myself looking forward to Lost more than any other show during the week, but when it comes down to it, The Shield is by far a more enjoyable watch.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

The Handsome Woman Leaving Outback


It's Friday. I'm out of work. The weekend has begun. I'm on a caffeine high that would make Pat O'Brien envious. I pull up to a yeild sign infront of Outback and stop for a family of three. One dweeby looking dad, one dweeby looking son and one HOUSE of a handsome wife. The dweeby males see that I have stopped for them and jog across the street. The handsome wife continued to stroll. Leisurely. She didn't even look at me. No wave, no acknowledgment. Her eyes were set straight ahead, just so she could see me out of her periphery. She didn't even give me the courtesy of looking away. I blare my radio, extend my arm and give that handsome peice of ass one big thumbs up as she walked from the median to the side walk. I figured she'd be able to see my arm move, look at me and say something OR feel like today's winner of the Fuck Mother Award. But no. She didn't even look at me. Apparently I'm the Fuck Mother.
And I think the thing that really struck me was the dweeby dad and son. You know she runs that house. Like Stalin. Ever see the episode of The Family Guy where Lois takes karate lessons, beats up the New Yorkers and goes on a power trip? Peter walks down stairs with a limp and is obviously in some discomfort. Brian asks Peter what happened. Peter finally confides, "Last night... Lois was... she was the man last night!" and he proceeds to bawl. Yeah, that's what the handsome woman reminded me of.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

The Fall of South American Idol


We fought hard, damned hard. But alas, South American Idol was unable to defend our team trivia title at Murphy's Twin Shamrock Pub. We came in second. The night had it's highlights, like pulling these answers out of our arse:

What book, originalyl published in 1960, was written to settle a bet between the author and editor to settle a bet, that a book couldn't be written using less than 60 words? The author won the bet.
What was the name of the political party that H. Ross Perot created in 1992 while he was running for president?
"Biddy" was the original name of a character in what well known fairy tail?

And the low light(due to the fact that we wagered too many points on an educated/incorrect guess- nobody's fault, just was the definite lowlight):
In the 1850 Emmanuel Leutze painting, Washington Crossing the Delaware, what future president is pictured holding the american flag?
Here's a hint, pick someone that actually wound up president!
There's always next week.