Run Fat Boy Run

I was greeted when I came home today after a day of work where I had to talk myself into sniffling on through, with a nice little red Netflix envelope containing this movie, Run Fat Boy Run. Starring Simon Pegg as a deadbeat dad who tells the woman that he left at the alter pregnant that he can change and will run in the upcoming marathon to show her he can finish something.

I found this movie very funny at times, especially the scenes with his obese Indian trainer swatting him with the spatula to get him to run faster. Of course it was a predictable good hearted family film, of course there's training montages, and of course there's male British ass (apparently an ingredient in all British comedies these days). But there's also Thandie Newton. I swear this movie had an underlying theme of worship to Thandie Newton. No matter if she's pregnant, angry, scared or depressed, she looks absolutely gorgeous and its actually written into the script for the actors to tell her so at almost a ridiculous rate.

This movie isn't the deepest puddle in the road, but it makes you feel good watching it and really makes you want to get out and exercise afterwords in hope that someday you too will impress a Thandie Newton. Or at least work off those fig newtons.

I give Run Fat Boy Run a 3.5 out of 5.

Other Blogs Suck

Now I'm sure it can't just be the bias that I have that my blog is a funny witty piece of Americana that all others should strive to copy. I've tried reading the featured blogs on the Blogger main page and they honestly and bluntly, suck terribly. I'm not sure how they get to become featured blogs when they are so unremarkably boring. One of them was actually about professional table setting. Another was about people who enjoy Pippi Longstocking. I am not fucking with you on this, these are the featured blogs. Am I missing something here? Do I need to dumb down my posts and gush about the precocious exploits of a book character to get the Blogger head people to take notice? It's really baffling to me.

Other things bugging me at the moment:

Ragdoll physics: It's not realistic at all game developers. It takes away from the game and you would think by now that someone at one of the game companies would have noticed that when you fall down, you don't suddenly have your leg flop up near your head. By adding this to the game it also causes problems with the body sliding and continuing to move for far longer then it should. Video game budgets are getting to be comparable to some movies. They do motion capture for everything else, can someone drop some cash and show people fall down like people.

Economic Bailouts: It's dumb, it really is. Where are the good old days when companies that failed and did semi-shifty things that finally caught up with them, just allowed to go out of business. If you are going to fork over 700 billion dollars to companies so that the rules don't have to apply to them and their CEO's get to retire on multi-million dollar golden parachutes, I'd just assume take my $2500 piece and spend it on rent or something fun like that.

Whoever thought it was a good idea to make apartments with white-everything: The carpet always looks dirty. The linoleum in the kitchen and the bathroom always looks dusty. The cabinets and counter tops show stains from things that don't exist. Cut me some slack landlords, throw down some color, we both know I'm not getting my deposit back, least you could do is make it so I don't feel like I need to clean up after I just cleaned up.

Q & A - 9.27.08

Over the last couple days I've asked people who visit my facebook to submit questions that I would do my best to answer for them. In any hope this will spawn more follow up Q & A sessions and who knows, I may help you with your life's mysteries.

What is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?

While this is a not a surprising joke question, one that I appreciate for the Monte Python reference, the easy answer would be "African or European?". However with a little research I have found that while there are over 200 species of swallow, the average speed is has been shown to be around 24 miles per hour.

Which prime, below one-million, can be written as the sum of the most consecutive primes?

I am sadly not an engineer or feel like taking the time to think this out. But according to the Internet there is a computer program-esque way of figuring this out that you probably know and are just testing to see if I can find it, so try Google.

Ha, whats the first mersenne prime over 1mln? I'll split the the GIMPS pot with you ;)

I sadly never heard of mersenne primes before this question and since there is a $100,000 prize for the answer, I think it might be a little over my head.

Ass, legs or boobs?

It actually makes it a tough question when you throw legs into the mix. I'd say I'm a boob guy, but having nice legs is really important as well.

Top or bottom?

Bottom. Nice to have a good confident girl on top than one that lays under you like a dead fish.

What is the answer to life, the universe and everything?

Yet another famous movie/book question, however like in the story, it really depends on the question. Life is full of questions and I doubt there's an answer that applies to all questions. Whether its what you should be doing with your life (whatever makes you happy), to what the name of the random girl is that you wake up next to (chances are its probably Jessica or Jennifer) or even whether Clemson can play well for an entire football game (No), it really depends on the question. Good thing I'm here to give you my two cents whenever you ask.

Now Featuring: CAPTAIN PRETENTIOUS

In our second America's Sweetheart interview I talked to your favorite character and mine, Captain Pretentious. The Captain put in the request last weekend to be the next to be interviewed and who's to say no to him. So last night I asked him a few questions which he answered pretentiously, using his iPhone.

MR: How often do you check the blog?

CP: Twice a day. But its usually boring Tuesday through Sunday.

MR: Do you feel you are portrayed accurately?

CP: No, I'm quite a lovable, non-pretentious chap in reality.

MR: Do I really portray you as non-lovable?

CP: I'm CP! Always late, beat you up, compare iWang sizes, doesn't sound very lovable!

MR: You are also linked to the hot female lead, i think that makes you loveable.

CP: Just because she's got nice cans doesn't make me lovable, just lucky.

MR: haha I'm quoting that word for word.

CP: Her tracts of land are well known throughout these parts my friend.

MR: hahaha

MR: Whats your favorite post?

CP: One of the first few.

MR: Have they been getting worse?

CP: I like the old school ones better.

MR: Whats different about the new ones?

CP: Too much of the same: starting at Jebs and going to Nicks... Though the commentary is always quite good.

MR:Hmm we might have to mix it up.

MR: How many Swedish supermodels work at Sandvik?

CP: Actually, quite a few in Sverige, which is why you should come visit.

MR: Always good for morale to have eye candy at work.

MR: Do you ever wear things that you know you'll be picked on for looking overly pretentious?

CP: I dress for Mike Robertson from time to time, as does the Katie.

MR: Haha, like when?

CP: Usually if it involves pink or a sweater.

MR: What's your favorite and least favorite foods that Katie cooks for you?

CP: Favorite ribs

(Conversation briefly interrupted by Katie typing "Ask him what his screen name stands for, I already know it has something to do with Abercrombie and how when he was a freshman all of his clothes were from there, so we continue.)

CP: Least favorite: She recently learned how to make really good mac & cheese... Previously it was not so good as it is now.

MR: Do you often think to yourself, "I wish I was more like America's Sweetheart"?

CP: No I like getting laid.

MR: Ohhhhhh snap.

CP: Ooooooooo

MR: What are things that you do that bug the crap out of Katie? You can ask her if you want.

CP: I don't do as many chores as I should. She says "Still breathe."

MR: Haha It bugs her that you're still breathing?

CP: She's a smart ass.

MR: Good for her.

MR: Deep down are you really part ginger?

CP: Yes, I'm afflicted with red beard like the other Benjamin brothers.

MR: and stage 4 C.P., I've seen the ginger anger.

CP: And apparently I somehow anger minorities.

MR: Night elf mohawk.

MR: Whats your next ridiculous purchase? You've got the gun and the snow cone machine, what's next?

CP: I'm saving for something right now, so no silly purchases for a while sadly.

MR: OK last question, what is a surprising fact about C.P. that would shock even me?

CP: I've never dated a blond....ever.

MR: Well I think I can make a post out of this, do you have any closing remarks?

CP: Even though I may be CP in the mind of Mike Robertson, I'm just a normal guy who is really good looking and only likes nice things in reality.

MR: hahahahaha perfect.

Cripples Galore

After the planning heavy weekend last weekend, this one was shaping up to be so extremely plan free that even I wondered what would go on. All I knew was that my buddy D.P. would be returning to Clemson with his girlfriend L.C. They had planned to come the weekend before but had to cancel because L.C. was in a nasty car wreck that left her with a broken wrist, foot, and a collarbone that was cracked and then subsequently broke when I'm told she was startled by a spider. But despite all the craziness of that week, she was apparently a "hardcore" trooper and was down for another trip to Clemson with D.P.

I was getting my stuff together around 4:30 Friday when I got a call from the Jebster asking if I could pick up BMS at her work and bring her down to Clemson with me when I came down. I figured her car (a Saturn, we've nicknamed The Clemson Lambo) was in the shop and since it was easily on my way I agreed to go get her. So I kicked my getting ready into high gear and drove on down to her work. I was greeted by a fairly attractive woman who acted like they didn't get many visitors to the company, which I believe makes polymers, and after walking back to check with BMS that I wasn't some psycho that was trying to pick up polymer chicks by throwing out fairly specific names, I was allowed to walk back to her cubicle. When I got there I found her chillin with her foot/ankle all wrapped up.

"You tripped over one of those dogs," I said, causing her coworker to start giggling. She went on to tell me about how, that morning, she had gone to step over the dog gate that keeps their dogs from leaving the bedroom area during the night and had caught her foot on the top of it. This apparently caused her to tumble down a flight of stairs into the wall on the landing between the second and third floors of their condo. This also apparently caused her to let out a scream that was loud enough to wake Jeb from a deep sleep (which is not an easy thing to do, I've kicked him trying to wake him up before with little success). After wrapping her ankle which was apparently pretty swollen she had driven to work with far more difficulty then she was accustomed to and felt it would be a good idea not to have a repeat performance on the drive home.

So I picked her up and we drove to Clemson, stopping first at C.P. and the Katie's place to drop off a birthday present for C.P. that had come in two days after his birthday last week. They were of course even late to meeting me at their own house and C.P. came blazing in with the Jag and almost took my driver's side door off if he hadn't swerved at the last minute. He seemed to really enjoy the Swedish book that I got him (which came with audio CD's to allow even Benjamin's who can't read to get something out of it) and we continued on to the condo to meet Jeb. When we got there BMS wanted crutches before she would go anywhere else and Jeb fished a pair out of the basement for her. After several semi-comical lessons on going up and down stairs with them and the usual warning about making them so that arm pits don't rest on the top of them (which everyone who has ever had crutches is apparently obligated to be told at least five times) we decided to hit up the new Mexican place that had just opened up for dinner.

This Mexican place had opened in the old Explorer's bar, which had claimed to have wings so hot that if you finished six of them you got your picture on the wall. From the outside it looked almost exactly the same as it always had, but inside it was totally different. It gave up the typical Mexican restaurant atmosphere for one that was more along the lines of if you would picture someones basement that they remodeled into a living room with a bar. Complete with bland carpet and wall colors and packed with seemingly half the Greek underclassmen, we should have been tipped off already on what was to come. But we happily waited anyway for a table to open up. When one did we were escorted over to it by a Mexican guy who's English was so bad that he couldn't even take drink orders and was soon replaced by a sorority girl, who I referred to as Pierced Juno. Sporting a chili pepper apron and studs through each of her cheeks, she looked exactly like Ellen Page if Juno had decided to go slightly goth instead of getting knocked up for kicks and giggles. Soon we had our drinks and the usual chips and salsa to munch on while we waited for our food. And wait we did. We arrived at the restaurant around 7:30 and after several confused looks from Pierced Juno later (seemingly saying "Oh are you still here") we received our food around 9. Never in my life had I threatened to leave a restaurant as much as I did with this one. At one point it was all but decided that if Juno showed up again asking if everything was alright without our food we would just leave. Even after we got our food, we contemplated skipping out on the check to teach the retarded staff a lesson, but with BMS's heavy limp, we figured a speedy get away was out of the question. Hell I even thought about breaking things to get someones attention to get our bills. After leaving a sizable zero as my tip, we skedaddled on out of there and back to Jeb's to drop BMS off before heading downtown.

We started at Nick's as usual and put down a couple beers hoping to dull the memory of the horrendous meal we just had. Sundance (who was in town again for the game and tailgating, but without Butch who apparently had to work) met us there and we were called over to TTT's to meet C.P., the Katie, D.P. and L.C. (way too many initials, its starting to get comical) for more drinks. We talked and joked around for a while. C.P. and D.P. compared iPhone features to see which one had the bigger iWang while L.C. talked about hooking me up with her friend, which I encouraged her to do so as often as she liked. For the horrendous accident she had been a part of, L.C. actually didn't look that beat up, but sported a huge slash across her collarbone where they had gone in and bolted her back together with more stitches then I had ever seen in my life. She also had her one hand heavily bandaged up and sported a boot on her one foot that she complained had a thicker sole then her normal shoe which caused her walk to be uneven. I barely drank anything there, hoping to move on to Griffin's and get off the smokey patio of TTT's (which curiously had the Jose Cuervo girls and a girl that was having guys give her spankings for her birthday, which I passed because I figured that ass had been places that I didn't want my hand to be infected by). We headed out and up the street.

Entering Griffin's we found it Meggles-less again (finding out that the goddess had asked for Fridays off to handle the school work). But we started knockin them back and a ton of pictures were taken in just about every combination we could think of. One of the funny things about writing this blog is that all my friends read it and will talk about it regularly while we're out, since us being out is a normal topic for the blog. D.P. was apologizing profusely for being so spazzed out the last time and said that he had been working on it with L.C., which actually showed, because he was back to being the fun D.P. that I remembered. Him and L.C. seem like a very good match as she is crazy enough to appeal to that side of him but at the same time, messes with him enough to keep him from taking things too seriously.

Close to last call we decided to head out back to Jeb's and was almost at my car which he was going to drive when we got a call from our friend Shewhocantbenamedbutnomatterwhatiwouldcallhereveryoneknowswhosheis (or SWCBNMWIWCHEKWSI for short). Apparently her boyfriend had been an uber douche like usual and had actually left her in Anderson, which is 15 minutes away from Clemson. So without thinking about it, we told her to stay put and we would come to pick her up. We hopped in the car and drove on down to Anderson. Just as we were driving across the bridge to get her, we get a call saying that the uber douche had come back to take her home and we were no longer needed. A little disappointed in our friend, we turned around and headed back to the condo. Everyone had made it back in one piece and were gathered in the kitchen waiting for us. After a little bit I was tired and headed back to the couch where I passed out on the couch for the night, apparently missing a pizza delivery.

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The next morning I awoke early. In my head I was really seriously thinking about skipping tailgating and football festivities to crash on the couch but didn't really voice my idea to anyone and soon got over it and got ready to go to the tailgate. We were supposed to get there by 8:30 and Sundance was up and raring to go. Unfortunately everyone else in the house was moving at a snail's pace to get ready so he left. By 10:30 we were all ready to go. BMS had originally said she was going to pass on the festivities because of the bum ankle but had apparently changed her mind and while we were waiting for D.P. and L.C. to get ready she had started crutching down the street. Despite leaving fifteen minutes later, we caught up with her a block and a half later and joined in the slowest fifteen minute walk ever. Anyone that knows me, knows that I usually walk at a fairly casual Southern pace, and even at this pace I found myself waiting for my friends to catch up. Jeb was just getting over a sinus infection and was speaking like the Godfather the whole weekend and was hacking up a lung while he walked. Together the three of us must have been a sad sight making our way to the tailgate.

We finally made it and were greeted with some of the best tailgate breakfast food ever. There were little muffins in the shape of tiger paws, and egg sandwiches with bacon. Apparently Louis's wife is quite the cook. Soon D.P. and L.C. showed up and joined us along with Steve and Christine, who had driven down from a trip to Jersey to be there. C.P. and the Katie showed up right as we had packed up and started walking toward the game, which I had graciously been given a ticket to. Tim was forced to stow a six pack of beer in a bush for safe keeping as we all walked to the game. The seats were upper deck but were awesome as we could easily see the whole field. Clemson decimated South Carolina Community College but we stayed til the end. I had been getting several text messages during the game telling me that most of the group had headed out early and were sitting downtown. So after walking back to the tailgate for a little I decided to go down there and join them. The whole group of C.P., the Katie, D.P., L.C., and the Harclerodes were heavily invested in many pitchers of Long Island Ice Tea and were fairly intoxicated. The Katie tried to say that, despite having six cups of tea, was not drunk at all, but mumbled part of it, causing me to joke around and make fun of her a little. Out of the blue, she tries to knock my hat off my head and instead backhands me in the face. The blow is so surprising that I'm dazed for a couple seconds as she starts apologizing and everyone else at the table is shocked that the Katie just punched me in the face. I laugh it off and after finishing up their drinks, we headed back to the tailgate which was still going strong.

We lounged around, blocking off the fairly busy sidewalk. D.P. and BMS got into a quantum physics discussion while everyone else poked fun in Mystery Science Theater fashion of goofy comments to what was being said. With a strong 90's soundtrack pumping in the background we chilled there the rest of the day. People were even sent to resupply the tailgate with food and booze and we soon found ourselves as the only tailgate left in the whole parking lot. People would walk by or through the tailgate, sort of shocked that people were still there. Finally people started to leave and it was soon down to a dedicated half dozen who ate a fourth meal of the day at the tailgate and packed up to head home. It was a near perfect Saturday and we passed on downtown in favor of crashing out after what ended up being a very long day.

Crackmosa's and Dehydration continued...

So I was awakened Saturday morning really really early. Early enough that people should have been killed, but I let it slide this time. Apparently Butch, Sundance and Jeb were putting a tailgate together and had to be out there ungodly early. I had hoped to sleep until at least noon and then stroll on over to C.P.'s tailgate for a little fun, but now I was up and figured I should probably go there when they said to be there instead. In their attempt to be extremely organized (I think this is Christine's doing) they had assigned each person into a team earlier in the week, which told you what to bring. I was placed in classy team R, which meant that I had to bring cheap wine, chips or dip. I decided on the delectable Cold Duck, an alcoholic beverage so treacherous and at the same time delicious that they named it after a woodland creature. We had a history with the Cold Duck (which involved purple vomit on the Holtzendorf building) and due to its cheaper then cheap price tag I figured it would make a good addition to the tailgate.

So I headed over, strolling across campus with the bottle of Duck in one hand and my wallet and cell phone in the other since the damn basketball shorts I was wearing somehow didn't have pockets. Clemson on game days is pretty much a free-for-all as far as laws go, as the cops are more likely to stop you for not understanding their convoluted traffic flows they have set up then for openly drinking in the streets. I traipsed past plenty a cop with my prized bottle clutched in my hand. Its not exactly the manliest thing to be walking down the street with to a tailgate but I managed (and was only stopped by one crackhead scalping tickets to be asked what I had).
The tailgate proved to be a lot farther then I thought, probably close to two miles away. Combined with the early morning Carolina heat I was dying by the time I made it there. I was greeted with a Mimosa and a sausage wrapped in a pancake (wrapped in bacon, wrapped in a pizza, in a commemorative bag full of vegetarian chili). C.P. and the Katie were of course really late so we just hung out and baked in the sun until they arrived with the tent. From then on, since only two of us had tickets to the game, we boozed it up and played some games of cornhole and the ill fated tackle football version of 500, where C.P. spent most of the time just brutalizing me to the point where I didn't catch a ball the whole time. After that we were sitting around and Kristin decided that she wanted more Mimosa but we had polished off the champagne hours ago, so I had the idea to make it with Cold Duck instead. It was surprisingly a big hit and was deemed the Crackmosa.

I was sorta tired by this point of sitting out and sweating in the heat and after a "hold on one minute and we'll give you a ride" turned into a "yeah I don't see that happening" I decided to walk back to Jeb's and catch the rest of the game. Unfortunately it was still several miles away and now just around midday, so it was hotter then liquid hot magma walking back to the house. By the time I got there I felt like I was on the verge of death in which only a cold shower and a drink could save me. Eventually Butch and Sundance came back over with Louis and his wife/girlfriend who I have no idea what her name was. We decided to hit up some always delicious Mexican food where I learned that Jeb apparently speaks fluent Spanish. He and our server sounded like the best of friends which surprisingly didn't warrant us getting refills on chips and salsa. It was still good and short of the rest of the weekend packed with Bourne Identity, that was the weekend.

Crackmosa's and Dehydration

I find it hilarious that if I make it to Tuesday without writing I get angry text messages and calls wondering if I'm still alive and why my lazy ass hasn't gotten to updating. Truth is my hectic 50 hour week at work last week transitioned seamlessly into another two long days, with the possibility of another three being highly likely. While its nice to be busy, I feel less then energized when I get home, so sorry for the delay and here we go....

I rarely plan going into a weekend. I find that its much less stressful and often times it doesn't really matter what I do as long as I'm chillin with my friends. But this weekend there were a definite two main plans. However my plans still involved getting out of work (late) and taking a nap all afternoon.

This is where the plans were different then usual. We had a surprise birthday party planned for Captain Pretentious at the Harclerodes' house in Greenville. It was originally planned as a Swedish themed wine and cheese party, perfectly pretentious for the Captain who is leaving for Sweden at the beginning of next year. At the last minute however, The Katie decided we would switch it up a little. Instead of a Swedish party, we would break out the pink streamers and have a Sweet Sixteen party. The Katie and the Harclerodes spent Thursday night transforming their entrance hallway into a wonderland of pink and glittering sixteens. We were told to arrive by 7 and the Katie would do her best to get C.P. there by 7:15 under the false pretense that they would be having a nice dinner out with the Harclerodes after stopping for a birthday shot. Unfortunately C.P. was in hurry as always and the growing number of guests waited around until nearly 8pm. Everyone had parked well up the street so he pulled into the driveway with no idea of what awaited him inside. Everyone bustled around the door, half rehearsing what was about to happen. As the door came open, the lights came on and everyone yelled "Happy Sweet Sixteen!!!!" A fuzzy tiara was placed on his head and a blinking 16 and a sash proclaiming "Happy Birthday Princess" was placed around his neck. He was ushered into the dining room with the pink frosted cupcakes and twelve different kinds of cheese. Still in shock, he was given a key and told to go look in the garage, just like on the silly MTV reality show. Parked right in the middle of the spot was......a matchbox Porshe. The Sweet Sixteen party was a huge success and everyone had a great time, but I had places to go and people to see.

I knew that it would be much easier to get to Clemson the night before then trying to fight my way down there with the game traffic in the morning. Also Jeb and BMS couldn't make it up to the party and I figured why not make it an even better evening and get to hang out down there with them also. I had drank next to nothing at the party despite the abundance of wine that had showed up with everyone. I made it down to Clemson in seemingly record speed and met Jeb downtown. BMS had already gone to bed but I was introduced to his two ex-roommates Butch and Sundance (I think I remember their names but I like those nicknames better). Butch and Sundance had apparently not been in Clemson in a while, so when I showed up they had just finished up eating and we headed up to Griffin's. Sadly we apparently hit it on an off night because it was half empty and mostly filled with guys which was disappointing. Even Meggles was MIA again. To top it off, 2o minutes after we walked in, the grand douchebag that slept with Jeb's ex walked in. Since he was one of the group of friends, Butch and Sundance went to talk to him which I could tell somewhat bothered Jeb. I played defense while, keeping an increasingly intoxicated Jeb from pounding him and getting us all kicked out. After a while we made it out without bloodshed and hit up Nick's which was fairly full of cute indie chicks. We had a pretty good time, even though Nick's still doesn't seem to have any AC. We had planned to play some poker when we got home, which turned into everyone passing out, and after playing some demos on the PS3 , I passed out as well.

So Anyways....

I think I'm good with the weekend before last catch up. There was a pool party the next day before we watched our beloved Tigers get the ever loving tar kicked out of them by Alabama. The notable quote of the day was "Dude chill out, the game doesn't start until 8" when D.P. was about to have an aneurysm because we weren't leaving to go to the party at 11am. It was apparently funny at the time.

So Anyways last weekend started with me dropping my computer off at Best Buy to have the Geek Squad either fix it, or what I like to call "Asking them how much money they want me to burn in front of them". The magic number turned out to be $130, although they really really wanted to do a fun little $80 diagnostic on my three year old computer which I sadly declined. Afterwards I stopped at Barnes and Nobel, because I am terrible with time estimation and while it took a little time for me to tell the Best Buy guy my contact information four times, it didn't take the amount of time to make it logical to head to Clemson already.

Barnes and Nobel sorta sucks. Things are not laid out in a logical way (I had several, oh wow I found this section moments) and the books cost at least 15 to 25% more than they should. However this can be ratified by purchasing their book club card for twenty five frickin dollars a year. I decided to indulge the check out woman and listen to her whole spiel about the program but found myself by the end wondering why I was even buying the Quantum of Solace James Bond book in the first place.

Sadly I still didn't burn enough time but drove to Clemson anyway. Jeb has no problem with me chillin at his place, even though I still feel sorta weird about the idea of chillin there while he isnt there. I let the dogs out, who are all over me the whole time, losing their minds (or whatever is between their ears) and thinking that hanging out with me is the best thing since probably a dog bark they heard through the wall four hours before. I try to read my new book which I find out is not so much the story line of the new movie coming out as it is a collection of short stories, I also find that its impossible to read it with two dogs doing their ever-loving best to be ever-loved. Jeb comes home and we set to work setting up his new baby. Something I forgot to mention about the weekend before.

Jeb got a really frickin big TV.

It got delivered Friday and if it weren't an absolutely beautiful piece of electronics, it would be big enough to make a fairly comfortable twin sized bed. It made my new TV seem like the screen of a portable DVD player. By the time we plug in all the surround sound speakers and video game equipment, the set up is giving off enough heat to cook pizzas on his mantle. The TV is so amazing that there really aren't words for it. It even makes a little sound when turning on that sounds like you are summoning it down from the heavens. We instantly do what any group of guys would do with a new giant Hi-Def TV: we put in Bio Shock to see a life size zombie get shot with a shotgun (what did you think I was going to say?).

The night turned from movie watching and pizza to more downtown madness. We ran into the douchebag that slept with Jeb's ex wife and somehow kept the peace. And after getting far too drunk, we stumbled home. I also remember it being very very hot inside Nick's, I swear that I'm sick or something, no one should sweat that much.

The next day we were supposed to go to C.P.'s tailgate before the Clemson game and ended up so late that I actually got phone calls from the always late C.P., asking where I was. For the majority of the time I was just nursing a hangover and sitting there while the couples made out and talked about where they got their Tupperware. By game time we decided to not search for tickets but just go home instead. Sadly the game was not on TV so I played Mercenaries 2 for a couple hours. I love that game, nothing is really less satisfying then killing off an entire faction base by myself, and then calling in an air strike on their buildings to rub it in.

We ended up going out again because The Katie was super psyched to hit downtown and told us so all day long, over and over and over again. I can't really remember many crazy antics, although apparently Guinness now comes saturated with Nitrogen and is placed on a little launch pad that causes it to get head.

Oh the dreams of a button that causes you to get head. Hell with the Easy button, that's what I want. Although a button that makes women easy...............

Hello Again

As many of my readers know, my computer was on the fritz for a little over a week after I restarted it and it decided it would just not start up again. But happily (or at least fairly happily after the financial thrashing the Geek Squad gave me) I am pretty much up and running again. Which leaves me with a huge void in the coverage of the last two weekends' schenanigans.

So two weeks ago (this maybe a little rough because my memory is horrible sometimes) I was very excited going into the weekend. Of course there was the usual reasons such as the amazing group of people that allow me to call them my friends and the unquestionable good time we would have, but there was also another reason. D.P. was coming to town. Sadly I hadn't been to Cola to visit him in quite some time, so the news that he was coming to town to show his girlfriend what a college town can be was exciting. Now if Jeb and I have the same sense of humor, D.P. would be our triplet, so I expected nothing less of a good time in which I at some point shoot beer out my nose in a fit of laughter. So I arrived in Clemson around the normal time and Jeb, BMS and I had dinner and headed downtown early. I knew that D.P. and L.C. would be in town around 9, but we figured we would get started with the festivities. A couple beers later its finally 9 and they tell us to meet them at Peppino's where they are eating a pizza that can only be described as the last meal to anyone that attempts it. After a little chit chat and not very much progress on the deadly Italian creation, we decide to head out, but first D.P. wants to move his car. So I go along with them to show them where to park. Upon getting into his car I accidentally tap the door into the truck next to his and he flips out, which I sort of expected, but in an overly mean way that I don't remember my old friend ever doing to anyone. I shrug it off and we go off to park and go to Nick's. It's about half full, but is a fairly good crowd for Nick's which is usually not too crowded (remember Mike bar gripe #1, crowded bars). We hang around for a little and enjoy ourselves. BMS heads home, it being far past her bed time already, and we hit TTT's. I have a feeling that D.P. was talking it up beforehand to L.C., which was a shame because it was vacant. The usual Clemson hot spot was a ghost town. I hit the bathroom before leaving Nick's and told the group I would meet up with them at TTT's. The Katie and C.P. called to inform us that they had a table outside and we were to come join them. But as I was walking up to the bouncer at the door I suddenly get pelted in the nuts with a lime, hurled by C.P. through the gate. I crumple over a little bit and the bouncer is asking me if I want him to go in there and kick some ass. Unfortunately despite my confirmation that he should pummel C.P. into a pulp, he doesn't do anything and I go in and join the group and we continue to have a good time. D.P. continued to have a surprisingly short temper which was usually held in check by one of the people at the table messing with him over it. We bounce over to Griffin's after TTT's and lounge around for a little while. The Katie has taken to sitting on my lap when she gets intoxicated and kept telling me how great I was and how I should definitely hit on the Goddess Megan who was sitting beside me. I help her with the bar game shes playing but don't get the guts to say anything of real "Wow, do me now" impressive value. But by the time we leave there I am very intoxicated. The group wants to go to 356, which in my opinion is a shitty bar normally, but on top of my usual disdain for it was a candy covered shell of general nausea. So they go in and I go around the corner back to Nick's to hopefully sober up a little bit more before meeting them for the walk back. A couple glasses of water later and I my condition wasn't any better, so I decided I would start walking and they would catch up because I would be stumbly on top of my usual casual canter. I get half way up the dark road when I see a sports car fly by me going at least twice the speed that it should be on the frat apartment lined street and knew that D.P. had just blown by me. I finally stumble in the door, feeling like a box of shit, when I'm greeted by L.C. who runs up and yells,

"WE'RE GOING SKINNY DIPPING IN THE HOT TUB!!!!"

Jeb's hot tub hasn't been functional since I met him and he and D.P. are actively trying to figure out how to get it to work while filling it up with a garden hose. I walk right past everyone and collapse onto the couch. Only to later be woken up by D.P. who was complaining about me snoring. Unfortunately this woke me up to be kept awake by his snoring. The Snoring Vicious Circle.