Is this the first one of these?

Its here.....FINALLY!

2006-04-10T22:33:00.000-07:00

The Sociological Experiment

2006-04-03T16:40:00.000-07:00

In yet another example of how easily tempted I am by the phrase "open bar", I agreed on Friday to go to a "private party" at a gold coast club called "Level." My first indication that I was likely over my head was when I discovered I'd be going to a place called "Level". What is it with hip clubs and their one word names that don't seem to correlate with anything in particular? When I hit m midlife crisis and decide to open up a club, I'm going to name it something equally random or, better yet, something borderline offensive. Like "Felch", or "Qweef."

Anyways, the purpose of this outing was actually the formal kickoff of Chicago Fashion Week. After overcoming the initial shock and subsequent gut busting hilarity of "Chicago Fashion Week's" opening party having a guest list with my name anywhere within a 100 mile radius, let alone actually on it, I got pimped out in the new shirt I purchased at H&M that day, and left with my two neighbors, Jessy and Brandy (the latter responsible for my name being on said list).

Upon arriving at Level, I found out the "open bar" (aka the only reason I even bothered to come) was actually only 9-10pm. And guess what?? It was 10:30pm when we arrived! Now my only objective for the evening is to lay low, enjoy my Seven Dollar Beer, and pray I don't run into anyone I know. Unfortunately that final objective crashed and burned not ten minutes later, when I ran into a guy that works with my friends Chad and Kelly.

"No worries", I thought to myself, he won't tell anyone he saw me, and hopefully I can regain the hetero-points I lost today by first shopping at H&M then attending a Fashion Week party (that did NOT feature an open bar, I might add...did I forget to mention that? No?)

After that mildly unfortunate setback, I decided it was a fine time to go into do-random-and-embarassing-things-for-the-sole-purpose-of-telling-Steve-about-it-later mode (perhaps also known as College Mark). When a girl working the event put a stack of Fashion Week brochures on the table in front of me, I motioned towards the picture of the model on the cover, and proclaimed to anyone within earshot that me and that model “did it”. Twice, actually! This led to the following exchange between me and the girl working the event:

Her: “really? So what was her name??”
Me: “I...um…didn’t really catch her name. I mean, I don’t really like for them to get too attached, ya know?”
Her: “so do you know a lot of models?”
Me: “well yeah, sort of, I mean, they don’t know me per se, well they kind of know as the guy that hangs out outside their place until the wee hours of the morning, if that’s what you mean by “know” me…
Her: (walks away, shaking her head)

Its moments like these that make me wonder how I’ve ever seen a woman naked.

So after 3 drinks and close to a $30 dollar bar tab, I decided it was as good a time as any to start taking pictures of my nipple with some random girl’s camera, then ask her if we could “compare nipple shots”. That went over with her boyfriend about as well as you might imagine…

To top off a perfect evening, I got a text message from my friend Kelly that read simply, “Level?” The word was out…and now I have a lot of damage control to do this week…

Ultimately, it was decided that this sociological experiment of going to a pricey club and hanging out with people who are clearly better than me is not such a good idea. Although it is true that College Mark is indeed back, this act can only fly in certain circles.

Here are some other random thoughts from the past two weeks (and again, I’m sorry I haven’t updated in so long, I’ve been busy planning parties for the Duke Lacrosse Team)

-could there be a more anticlimactic national championship than UCLA/Florida? Talk about a lose/lose situation. Its impossible to root for UCLA because that would mean people in southern California would have reason to celebrate about something. Its impossible to root for Florida for similar reasons, although at least Floridians are slightly closer to death, on average

-can I say how happy I am that baseball season is back? Even as I write this, my beloved Atlanta Braves are clinging to a one run lead in the ninth with The Shakiest of All Relievers, Chris Reitsma on the mound. I have a feeling I’m going to plow through more than a few bottles of antacid this year…

-my brother was not accepted at UVA this weekend, meaning they are holding true to their commitment of only allowing rich, conservative southern closet-redneck/closet-homosexual whiteboys through the pearly gates of Charlottesville, Virginia. The more I thought about it, the happier I am that he isn’t going to school there. I pretty much hated every single person that went there, and even the people that I liked from high school that went there, ended up turning into assholes sooner or later. And if Mike is going to become an asshole, I want it to be on his terms, not because he is desperately trying to conform to the pompous, SUV driving, argyle sweater wearing, closet cases at “The University”.

-That reminds me, what the hell is it with UVA and Ohio State thinking they are above everyone else by putting the article “the” in front of their school names? Is it not a coincidence that some of the most insufferable people on the planet have come out of both of those institutions? Thank god Mike is not going to attend either of those shitpits…

-and finally today, the edited, updated video from the bachelor party of a month ago:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=Z_PAUBqY0TQ

Blue State Bracket - Part 2

2006-03-15T15:00:00.000-08:00

Editors Note: Since every tourney bracket is a complete wash, and the random intern who knows nothing about basketball usually wins anyway, then why NOT construct a tournament bracket based on political bias? Once again, Kent comes through admirably.

[Please read my previous post if you haven't already]

Picking only blue state teams in the NCAA tournament immediately puts you at a disadvantage. First of all, blue colleges are outnumbered 38-25 overall, and an even worse 10-6 among the #1-4 seeds. But upsets are what March Madness is all about, and today's Democrats are very familar with being underdogs.

However, there are bright spots. Blue state teams represented pretty well overall thanks to the strength of the Big East - 7 of the 8 Big East teams in the tourney are blue, including some legitimate title contenders in Connecticut and Villanova. Also, Kerry's narrow win in the state of Wisconsin gives us three pretty solid teams. Too bad John Edwards couldn't help turn North Carolina blue. No pun intended.

Let's look region-by-region:

Atlanta -- We have a problem here, since the highest blue seed is #5 Syracuse. Although they made a surprising run to win the Big East tournament, it would be quite a stretch to assume they can make it to the Final Four - especially with Duke in the way. Luckily, we can use our rule which allows for an Evil Red Team to win through to the championship and lose to our Blue Hero. So even though Texas epitomizes evil for most Democratic folk, no one deserves to lose miserably in the NCAA Championship more than Duke, the most hated team in college basketball. In the other part of the region, we have to hope for upsets by Southern Illinois and California to make the Sweet 16.

Washington DC -- The most blue-friendly region, with 4 of the top 6 seeds on our side. No surprises here, with Connecticut tearing through to the Final Four. Also, the only blue-blue matchup in the second round will occur here, between Washington and Illinois.

Minneapolis -- While we have a blue #1 seed here in Villanova, I'm going to pick Boston College to pull the upset and make it to the Final Four. Why? Well, for one thing, we already have Duke and UConn in there, and picking three #1 seeds in the Final Four is always a questionable strategy. BC is a solid team, taking Duke down to the wire in the ACC championship, so I think they're a good pick. As with the Atlanta region though, we need upsets by the #7 and #11 seeds over #2 and #3 in the second round.

Oakland -- Probably the toughest region for the blue state strategy. Our hopes rely on #5 Pittsburgh to knock off both #4 Kansas and #1 Memphis. A tall order, considering they have a tough first round matchup with MAC champ Kent State. The other side of the region is easier, with blue #2 and #3 seeds meeting in the Sweet 16. I'm going with Gonzaga over UCLA, Adam Morrison's prepubescent moustache is too much of an X-factor is just too much of an X-factor.

Final Four -- Like everybody else in America, I'm picking Duke and Uconn in the championship. Three guesses who wins.

So how well will my strategy hold up? We'll see, as it gets a real-world test in an Mark's NCAA Tournament group. So, wish me luck. The future of our nation depends on it.

--K

The Blue State Tourney Bracket: By Kent

2006-03-14T14:51:00.000-08:00

Editors note: Kent has been the dorkier half of a friendship that dates back to the rough streets of Erie, PA in the mid '90s. Long referred to as Mark's hetero-lifemate, Kent is famous for his unabashed political opinions, disproportionately attractive girlfriends, and Josta.

What could possibly cause the US economy to lose nearly $4 billion in worker productivity over two weeks? A terrorist attack? A flu epidemic? Nah, it's "March Madness" -- the NCAA Tournament, of course. Watching college basketball games and agonizing over your office pool bracket has become an American tradition every year around mid-March. It's even starting to rival other popular mid-March traditions, such as drinking yourself stupid and murdering Roman dictators.

So I'm here to give you some tips on how to fill out your bracket, predicting what teams are going to win the tournament games. Many people rely on specific strategies to pick the games, such as what teams have better looking uniforms, which mascots are cuter, etc., rather than go through the tedious process of actually trying to figure out who's gonna win the game. So for those of us who are of a certain political persuasion, I introduce my own strategy to you: The Blue State Bracket.

The concept is easy: pick colleges from "blue" states (ie., states that voted Democrat in 2004) to beat teams from "red" states (states that voted Republican). [Here's a map to refresh your memory as to which states are which.] This enables the progressive sports fan to stick to the GOP by "boycotting" red state colleges in his or her tournament picks. Although this accomplishes absolutely nothing of substance in the real world, it lets us Democrats vent our anger and feel better about ourselves. Which is, pretty much, just about the same as most Democratic political activity in general.

Of course, you can argue about the merit of defining colleges politically based on what state they are in. For example, Kent State could easily be classified as a "blue" school because of its place in history and location in a highly Democratic region of red-state Ohio. Similarly, Georgetown is traditionally considered a more conservative school, although it is located in the very blue Washington DC area. But all I'm trying to do here is devise a fun strategy for bracket pickin', so let's not get too anal about this. I'm anal enough as it is.

First, we have to have some rules to make this an actual competitive strategy. In the first round games, seeds #1-4 beat seeds #13-16 automatically. Additionally, in the second round, #1 seeds beat #8-9 seeds, and #2 seeds beat #10 seeds. Everywhere else, blue state teams must beat their red state opponents. In blue vs. blue and red vs. red matchups, you're free to pick whoever you want. Since you're probably unsure about which colleges are from which states for some teams, here's a list of the tricky ones for seeds #12 and up:

Blue: Villanova (PA), George Washington (DC), Georgetown (DC), Marquette (WI), Gonazaga (WA), Seton Hall (NJ), Syracause (NY), Bucknell (PA)Red: Memphis (TN), Wichita St. (KS), George Mason (VA), Kent State (OH)

(if you just said to yourself, "what about Duke?", you should not be reading this.)

One more suggestion. Although the point of this strategy is for red state teams to get humiliated and knocked out of the tournament as quickly as possible, this results in matchups between blue state teams in the later round games. Wouldn't it be more fun for a blue team to vanquish a red opponent to win the championship? So I propose to break the rules for *one* red state team, who is allowed to win through to the final game.

Tomorrow I'll write more with some predictions and breakdowns of the actual matchups. Until then, have fun filling out your, uh, "politically correct" NCAA tournament bracket.

--K

Random Thoughts for the Week!

2006-03-14T12:09:00.000-08:00

Just thought I'd check in this week, let everyone know I'm still alive and kicking. The 2nd Annual Kegs & Eggs party was this weekend, and it was a success for the most part. I thought that it bore a striking resemblance to Super Bowl XL, both in intense build-up, and ultimate letdown. Not that the party was a letdown, but it was simply impossible to follow through on the amount of hype generated before the party itself. Also, last year was a little more ridiculous because of the presence of moonshine, and a real life irishman! Here are my random thoughts for the week...

-I will be posting my NCAA Tourney picks either tonight or tomorrow. Rest assured, the word "bracketology" will not appear once. As a matter of fact, if I hear the word "bracketology" one more time, I'm going to kill everyone in this room and put a bullet in my head.

-I bought some video editing software on Sunday, so I will be cutting down all the footage shot from this past weekend and the weekend before (at the Penis Funeral). Look for it later this week.

-Deemo has an updated list of his Areas of Expertise. Out is "Cheesy 80's Music" and in is "deli cured meats"

-Steve and I both have new nicknames, apparently. He is going by "Nails", and I'm going by "Night Train". I have no idea why, we just like the way it rolls off the tongue...

The Penis Funeral: Day Two

2006-03-07T20:18:00.000-08:00

Editors note: please read day one first!

Day Two of Richie's bachelor party was by far one of the more interesting days in recent memory. After napping for 3 hours in the afternoon, we headed down to the casino at 5pm. Richie (pictured here from freshman year of high school, note that he still had a tiny head), myself and a few others sat down at a blackjack table, where we all proceeded to go on quite a run. It was the final time I would gamble on the weekend, and I ended up plus $300. After this, it was on to Applebees for dinner (what can I say, we were feeling adventurous)

Saturday 8:30pm: If you haven't had the pleasure of going out in public with Kyle Bright, I highly recommend it. Just make sure there aren't any small children around. Combine Kyle with Drew (who was in full-on "hit on everything that moves" mode) as well as the underrated Dan Nichols, and the overrated Scott Nichols, and you have what should have been a boring dinner ending up being wildly entertaining. Pictured here is Drew arm wrestling our waitress (he lost, badly I might add). Drew then proceeded to show her his high school football highlight reel.

Saturday 9:00pm: I wasn't kidding when I said the weekend got pretty gay in a hurry. While pregaming for the strip club, Richie decided to take a shower. This was his biggest mistake of the weekend, as one of his best friends from high school, John, decided this was as good a time as any to urinate in the shower- with Richie in it. John (pictured here on the right, and good LORD do they look shitfaced!) was actually talented enough to pull off The Golden Shower Heard Round the World on camera. A video clip is coming soon on this very site (don't worry, very little nudity)

Saturday 10pm: Any strip club named "Sundowners" is a guaranteed good time. The older lady in the hotel gift shop actually recommended Sundowners because, according to her, if we "played our cards right, we might be able to swing a handjob". I'm guessing a handjob in Canada is something you pay top dollar for...who knows. Before having my first private lapdance ever, I had some questions for my dancer, Valerie (no picture, unfortunately, flash photography is banned).

Me: "Just so you know, I've never actually done this before, what are the ground rules?"
Valerie: "riiiight, I bet you haven't. Just sit down and spread your legs"
Me: "I'm feeling very emasculated right now!"

After about 10 minutes, I started to get the hang of it, and subsequently bought another dance (or maybe two, I don't remember, I was pretty gone at this point). Afterwards, Valerie told me I was very "well behaved" and "such a sweetheart!" Now maybe its just me, but I don't like being told this by a stripper. The strip club is one of two places in the world where being a chauvinistic asshole is completely acceptable (my office being the other). Yet, after a 10 minute conversation about music, and after I plugged MarkIsSweet.com to her and her stripper friend, she actually gave me the "fist high five". Meaning, even in a strip club, Mark manages to get into "the friend zone" immediately upon meeting a female. Has this ever happened in recorded history?

Sunday 2am: Only Scott Roach has anything left for the late night gambling. I personally just blew $150 of my winnings at the strip club. Whats funny is that I didn't even realize it, those strippers are like naked hustlers!

Sunday 1:30pm: After packing up, its time to head out. But not before realizing someone actually broke into my rental car the day before. What did they steal? All the change from my change dish, Drew's apartment keys, and my apartment keys. Yes thats right, they stole apartment keys. Since my car had Illinois plates, I can only assume the bandit will be going door to door, starting somewhere in Peoria or Naperville, maybe. Time to change the locks!

After hitting the road, we came across another smart-alec border agent. We had this actual exchange:

Agent: "How long were you here?"
Me: "3 days"
Agent: "Why were you here?"
Me: "Bachelor party"
Agent: "who's bachelor party?"
Me: "Ummm...my friend Richards...?"
Agent: "Oh....so his life is pretty much over then, right?"
Me: "touché"

The Penis Funeral - Day One

2006-03-06T19:50:00.000-08:00

As most of you know, this weekend was my buddy Richie's bachelor party (or as I like to refer to it, his "Penis Funeral") in Niagara Falls, Ontario (that would be Canada, Phil). Now, ordinarily when I write about such an event, I typically have some sort of clever introduction, that serves as a segue to the rest of the hilarious story. This time is no different, of course, as I had planned to sum up the trip with one word: Debauchery. I was even going to start everything by using the Websters definition of Debauchery. That is, until I actually looked up the definition, which is "extreme indulgence of sensual pleasures". Probably not the best way to define a 3 day weekend with 11 other guys in Canada. Then again, I saw more naked dudes than I care to admit this weekend, so maybe "debauchery" isn't so far off after all...

There really is no other way to do this, so alas, I must rip off a device used by the great Bill Simmons once again: the running diary.

Friday 12:30pm: I actually rented a car for this event, because I am sick of flying, and I HATE airports. I mean I really hate airports. I drove from Chicago to Cleveland the night before, and stayed at Scott's brother's place. Now, I have to drive all the way to the west side of Cleveland to pick up the legendary Chris Serger (seen here on the right). Serger is famous for being the oldest 24 year old in the history of the world. He's so ultra conservative, he could scare Pat Buchanan out of the closet (ok I promise thats my last political joke ever). The drive to his house in Lakewood reminded me of why I hate Cleveland so much. Unlabled streets, bad neighborhoods and sports teams that rarely deliver. After he gets in the car, we kickstart what would be the running theme of the weekend: Serger hates minorities. Now, keep in mind, I don't really think Serger hates minorities, but its just fun to assume because he is such a staunch Republican, and an avid Bush supporter, that he must also be racist. I actually introduced him this weekend as being "Pro-Katrina", for the purposes of ethnic cleansing. I also told everyone that Serger was heavily investing in a corporation that was planning on building a "Katrina-Machine" that would create a hurricane every year in a major North American city, to "keep the darky population down". (Sadly, I know Phil is reading this right now thinking to himself, "hey what a great idea, where can I find one of those?")

Friday 2pm: After picking up the third member of our carpool, Drew, we were off to I-90. Next stop Canada. If this were a movie, this would be an ideal spot for one of those "road trip montages", you know, where they show all the crazy stuff we're doing in the car, with a different shot of each one of us driving and the other two sleeping, and maybe one of those animated road maps, with fading shots of a "welcome to New York" sign. I'm hearing that Jimmy Eat World song "The Middle" playing during this piece (that song that was in one of every three movies in 2002).

Friday 6pm: And we're live from Niagara Falls! I know, it seems like an odd place for a Bachelor party, but really, its like a mini-Vegas, only the women are less attractive, and the locals are a tad touchier. We are greeted in our Embassy Suites hotel room by a naked Kyle, fresh out of the shower, who immediately requests immunity from fat jokes for the weekend. Is he serious? That would be like asking Serger not to make anti-semetic comments for an entire hour! I would be shocked if we were able to pull this off. Also, Kyle plays the role of the insult comic for the weekend, so anything is fair game for him, including my ethnic ambiguity. Also greeting us is Craig, who is as always playing the role of our man-pretty friend. We keep him around to make everyone else look bad in comparison. It should also be noted that Craig, Kyle, Drew and the other Scott were all male cheerleaders in college. I realize that this association isn't exactly building a very strong hetero-case on my part, but don't worry, the weekend gets gayer.

Friday 8pm: We're off to the Casino, but not without a near international incident first. After seeing a Domino's Pizza delivery man get on the elevator in the lobby, Serger made it a point to tell everyone that "in Canada, the pizza crust is actually on the inside of the pizza", this prompted the underrated Dan Nichols to proclaim, "yeah! Canadians are IDIOTS!" The pizza guy actually stopped and told us, "really classy guys, really classy". Then as we saw him leave a few minutes later, he actually took the time to stare us down for what seemed like an eternity. I'm still shaking.

Friday 11:30pm: I'm $100 in the hole already, thanks to a terrible run on the craps table. To add insult to injury, some jackass canuck tried to pocket my Big 8 bet that actually won. I don't know why I ever bother with craps, I suck at it.

Friday 12am: Time to go clubbin'! This was bound to be interesting, because Serger is coming with us. As most that know him would agree, Serger in a club looks about as out of place as a Harley Davidson in the Tour de France. Needless to say, he was able to stay out past his 1am bedtime. After stumbling from one lame to club to another slightly less lame club, we got sufficiently wasted enough to head back to the Casino. Did somebody say "Bad Idea Jeans?" I know I probably text messaged "bad idea" to several people this weekend, and this is why.

Saturday 2am: Well I'll be goddamned, I'm up 2 hundy at the blackjack table. Wasn't such a bad idea after all, was it?? Now the goal is to stay up until 6am to take advantage of the complimentary cook-to-order breakfast at the lovely Embassy Suites. Stevie Grey, the younger brother of the bride-to-be, is making it his personal mission to stay up until then. So finally, when 6am hits, I cash out at the table and ask Richie and Steve if they are ready to go. Not only do they not respond at all, they appear transfixed and slightly zombie like. I recognize this as a surefire early sign of gambling addiction, or perhaps they drank the punch at the door, I'm not sure, but I leave right away, and skip breakfast. As it turned out, they were 15 minutes behind me...maybe they just wanted some "alone time". I pass out on the couch, and wake up the next morning with a backache and a hangover, only a bloody mary can help me now...

Saturday 1pm: The main difference between Las Vegas and somewhere middle of the road like Niagara Falls is that time actually exists anywhere but Vegas. Hence, we find ourselves actually sleeping in until noon. After awhile, we finally muster the motivation to go out to lunch at the TGI Fridays in the hotel. For some reason, we all decide to make napkin drawings while waiting for our food. In what was probably the eeriest moment of the weekend, unbeknownst to anyone else, each one of incorporated a drawing of a penis in their picture. I, myself, made a drawing of Richie in his trademark Red Wings jersey, holding his penis. Scott made a drawing of a stick figure, holding someone else's penis. Kyle drew only a penis, perhaps his own, perhaps someone elses. Judging from the shrink wrap, and lack of female anywhere else near the penis drawing, one can only assume he was drawing his own. Another interesting Canadian tidbit: gravy is served with fries! For Kyle, being from Kentucky where he was born with a blood/gravy concentration of .08, this was like heaven!

Saturday night in Niagara Falls: strip clubs, gambling, golden showers, and the real reason why I can never run for public office EVER

all of this coming in Part 2 of The Penis Funeral! Stay Tuned...

(sorry, but I'm at work, and its hard to write about incriminating details from this weekend..)

Response to a comment: funny story time! (not for female reading)

2006-03-01T14:11:00.000-08:00

Richie said...
"ok - First of all, mark ... whipped? That is amusing. This is a guy who would skip his wedding for game 2 of the conference semifinals. Second ... who said he was looking for a relationship in college. I can so for a fact he was more often looking for a way out of his relationships ... method of choice being espn or drinking with townie yagle. Mark, do i need to bring up the natty light bets?"

My friend Richard (the one having the Penis Funeral this weekend) is one of the few readers of this blog that actually spent time with and appreciated the College version of Mark, which is a vastly different version than the broken spirit you see before you today. The “Natty Light” bets he is referencing in this post is actually a funny story that, instead of telling it over and over to several of you, I’ll just post it here (and probably get sufficiently grilled by my female readers)

Junior year of college was mostly a blur, due to the fact that we went out probably 4 nights a week, and I was only taking 9 credit hours 2nd semester. Earlier that year, I began dating a girl (who will remain nameless) that was (and I’m putting this lightly) probably not the most stable person in the world. After we broke up, which was about 3 weeks after we started dating, I somehow parlayed that brief relationship into a year and a half of “friends with benefits”. Except we weren’t friends, at all, we actually despised each other, but we would end up at each other’s apartment basically every weekend. I still don’t know how I was able to pull this off every weekend without actually having to talk to her, but needless to say, these are things that can only happen in college. Anyways, after about 6 months of this behavior, my friend Richie (who is friends with the girl) saw an opportunity to cash in on my irresponsibility. Every weekend, he would bet me a case of Natty Light that I wouldn’t go home with the girl, and every weekend, he would get a fresh case of natty in his fridge. The first time it happened, I actually left a note on the case that said “beer courtesy of Mark’s penis”. Fast forward a couple of months, and Richie and Townie Yagle are having a late night chit chat with this girl, and Richie spills the beans on our little wager. She understandably flips out and calls my cell phone several times, which prompts me to spend the night elsewhere (a smart move in retrospect, because she came to my apartment looking for me that night, and I don’t know that she wouldn’t have murdered me that evening). The next day I assumed she had calmed down and everything blew over, but I was wrong, she showed up at my apartment that morning and basically screamed her head off at me for about an hour. I sat there, calmly, taking everything in, and let her say her piece. Then she slammed the door in my face and proceeded to leave the apartment. I stood there dumbfounded for a moment, and then she opened the door again, and proclaimed, “oh and by the way, you owe Richie another case of beer!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her, because, much like I do with Steve today, I just knew I’d be on the phone with Richie or Yagle within minutes to tell them the story.

So, for the most part, any problems or issues I have with the opposite sex today is simply life getting me back for all the pain and heartache I’ve caused others in the past. But at least I’m aware of that fact, right??

Phat Tuesday

2006-03-01T10:57:00.000-08:00

I'm a little sluggish at work today, because Chris made me go out for Fat Tuesday last night (along with his alcoholic, pregnant fiancé). Fortunately, I was responsible enough to get home by 11pm, which allowed me to get to bed at a decent hour.

Unfortunately, whenever I drink on a weekday, invariably I end up waking up in the middle of the night for no reason. Last night was no different, of course. Just before I fell asleep, Deemo came running into my room to tell me that the DirecTV package we just hooked up yesterday includes XM Radio!!! Thanks Deemo! I needed to be woken up for that! I then fell back asleep watching Air Force One on one of our 25 movie channels. I then woke up at 2am (probably because I left my TV on) to find some strange soft-core porn on the TV. Now, because we only had HBO before getting satellite, my soft core porn selection was limited to the Angelina Jolie movies "Taking Lives" and "Original Sin" (and I always had the unfortunate timing of tuning in just after the nude scenes). Needless to say, I felt like I hit the jackpot.

Now this wasn't just any soft-core porn, there didn't seem to be any dialogue, or semblance of plot for the entire half hour I was watching. This was both good and bad, because while I did enjoy 15 straight minutes of girl on girl (even though both "actresses" looked like they were at least 45 years old), I actually kind of enjoy seeing horrible actors stumble over lines for an hour and a half. Also, I like to play the "find the connection between the title of the film and the plotline" game. This is of course, the game of trying to figure out why the movie is titled "Provocative Instinct 4", or whatever it might be called, and what that has to do with the plotline, which is almost always some sort of murder mystery. Also, I tend to wonder what ever happened to the first 3 installments of "Provocative Instinct" and why I've never seen them before.

When you live in Mark World, these are the things that keep you up at night....

-I'll be traveling to Canada tomorrow for Richie's Penis Funeral (aka his bachelor party) so there will be no updates until next Tuesday. Unfortunately this means the official launch of MarkIsSweet.com is delayed yet again. The good news is, we decided on a logo, and took the appropriate photographs Monday evening.

expect a massive update on Tuesday, complete with a Simmons-esque running diary of the events from this weekend. Then the annual Kegs & Eggs is that next Saturday, which seems like a great candidate for the first official post on markissweet.com!

MarkIsSweet.com - Coming Wednesday!

2006-02-27T08:47:00.000-08:00

MarkIsSweet.com is going to up and fully functioning as of Wednesday, March 1st. We took some publicity photo's yesterday, and there are plans for making T-shirts in the very near future. Please post in the comments section your idea for a T-Shirt. Here are some of the ideas we came up with so far:

-anything involving Uncle Jesse from Full House circa 1987 (with mullet)

-anything involving the mugshots of the following people: OJ Simpson, Nick Nolte, James Brown or Yasmine Bleeth

-a black & white photo of me playing guitar naked (not my idea)

Also, I would just like to give kudos to Lindsay, who actually had the stones to stand up and defend herself in the comments section of the below post. I was really unsure of how she'd take everything. I tried to explain that she should take me with a grain of salt, that most of the time, I'm just talking out of my ass. Fortunately, she doesn't seem to be too perturbed, and eventually this will be one of those things we can look back on and laugh (although maybe not tomorrow). Steve, with his uncanny ability of summing things up, said simply "what an ass kicker!" (Kara also pointed out that she posted that at 6:15am, as if she was up all night fuming about it. Not likely, as she is one of "those" that gets up at 5:30am every day)

I think the lesson learned in all of this is, if you want a relationship to develop, maybe getting shitfaced and going home with someone on a Saturday night is not the best place to start. Again, it worked in college (a lot), but that approach doesn't work in the real world. (In defense of myself, I was probably more drunk than she was, so that rational thought process was completely absent at the time)

Also, to the "anonymous" poster who told Lindsay to go drown herself, please keep in mind that these are actual "people" you are talking about, not the disembodied screen names that you argue with about your favorite scene in Evil Dead 2 on the Final Fantasy message boards. Try to keep that in mind. Besides, she could probably kick your ass.

Its Not Looking Good So Far (and other random thoughts)

2006-02-24T08:33:00.000-08:00

-First of all, just as an update, "Good Looking Mark", aka the random picture below, is not faring as well as we hoped on www.hotornot.com, I checked last night, and after 38 votes, he is checking in at a cool 6.5. Not what I expected. This means my maximum potential is 6.5, not the 7.5 that original projections had me. Could it be higher sans soul patch? I might have to do a little photoshop job on that picture in order to find out.... Stay tuned

-Cubs tickets went on sale this morning, and I found myself wearing out the reload button on my browser trying to get tickets to the Memorial Day weekend series against my beloved Atlanta Braves...only to realize that I'll be out of town for a wedding that weekend. Someone up there hates me. Oh well, my consolation prize is free booze and a drastically increased chance of getting laid (not to mention, I've seen the bride naked before)

-I made the possible mistake of sending a link to this blog to a certain someone who is referenced more than once in the postings below. She heard "things" about my blog, and wanted to see for herself, and, not being one to turn down readers, I obliged. After I thought about it, I didn't write anything that I wouldn't honestly tell her to her face, and after carefully rereading everything, I ultimately decided two things: 1. there wasn't anything derogatory about her, and 2. most of that rant was actually inspired by my unholy, evil whench of an ex-girlfriend (story for another time). Steve summed it best when I told him about this, "and heeeere we go..."

-Napster pissed me off. I know there is a logical explanation as to why certain bands are not found in Napsters music library AT ALL. This is absolutely killing me! If someone knows how I can get bands like Radiohead and The Arcade Fire onto my Napster-formatted Dell DJ, please please PLEASE email me!!

-Just in the time it took me to write this, the Cubs sold out every Saturday bleacher seat for the rest of the season. Am I missing something here? These are the same underachieving Cubs from last year, that made no significant improvement over the winter. All I want to do is go to a Saturday game, get shitfaced and root for the opposition! Is that too much to ask!??!

I'm a hater.

What Went Wrong?

2006-02-21T21:31:00.000-08:00

When trying to figure out where I went wrong in my failed attempt at a romance this past week, a commission was established to locate the precise reasons why failure was imminent. The result: a comprehensive list of my shortcomings as a human being. Here they are in no particular order:

- I have bad posture
- my eyebrows need tweezing
- my head is disproportionately large when compared to the rest of my body
- under 6 feet tall (with no immediate plans of changing this)
- hang out with too many girls (hence I look like a "queer")
- too awkward
- inability to maintain eye contact throughout the course of a conversation
- I act like I have huge muscles, but I'm actually "puny and pathetic"
- I have "less than stellar" grooming habits
- I'm way too nice, give people too much credit
- I'm not as well liked as I think, I'm often the subject of ridicule behind my back
- I follow meaningless sporting events, and take them too seriously
- my current haircut makes me look like a "migrant mexican worker"
- everything out of mouth is either A. sarcasm B. an old movie line or C. something derogatory

Now I first must clear up a few things. First of all, this list was compiled by everyone BUT me, I had very little say in any of it. With that being said, its difficult for me to refute any of it. Also, if you don't know me, you'd think that me posting such a list is a sure exhibition of my lack of confidence. Nothing could be further from the truth! I'm no Vin Diesel, but I'm fairly confident in myself. My self-deprecating sense of humor often gets misinterpreted as a lack of confidence.

Also, it was ultimately determined by "the commission" (and by "the commission", I mean the assholes I work with) that I do have the potential to go from the 2.8 I received after posting my picture on www.hotornot.com, to at least a 5 or 6. One of my coworkers even found a picture of a guy that I could look like, if I improved any if not all of the above.

Now I'm not saying that I look like this guy, but when this picture was on my computer, my friend Tana came up behind me and asked, "is that your brother?" Also, if you think I'm growing a soul patch, you can go fuck yourself.

It was decided that, in order to find out my true potential, we must post this anonymous picture on hot-or-not, and find out what score he gets.

Also, because I just had to question the validity of my shortcomings, I actually called the girl I went out with last week, and read the list for her. I asked her to give me an honest yes or no each time I read off the list. She pretty much laughed the whole time, and said yes only to the eye contact one. I think she was just being nice, but in all reality, she's only known me for a week. What does she know?

...and of course, right after I got off the phone with her, I ran into Steve's room to tell him all about it. Proving again, that I am more than willing to suspend all logic and tact if it means getting a laugh out of someone. But is that really a shortcoming?? I'd like to think not...

Girls Are Not Interested in Mark (For reasons only they know)

2006-02-20T12:01:00.000-08:00

I bet you are all wondering to yourselves, “where the hell has Mark been lately?” Well some of you are aware that I recently had a (very) brief fling with a lady (one week, to be exact). While this experience was certainly brief, it definitely served as a learning experience. The conclusion I came to, after hours of over analyzing, is that I am too nice. Bottom line is that most women want guys who are assholes, because this means one of two things: either A) they might find some personal victory in being able to change them into the guy they want, or B) if this guy is truly an asshole, he comes off as being a great catch if he’s only slightly less of an asshole around that particular woman.

Now I know just about every woman that is reading this is probably cursing my name right about now. “Whatever! We don’t want assholes! We just want someone who is confident and self assured!” And I do realize, there is a line between “self assured” and “complete asshole.” But what I think most women don’t realize is that this desire of theirs is found completely on a subconscious level. I don’t think anyone actively thinks to themselves, “I really want to get treated like shit.” It just happens, because women find themselves in destructive relationships, because of the aforementioned desire to be with someone they THINK they can change. Whats the lesson here? Guys aren’t going to change. Sure they’ll put on a hell of a show for a few months, maybe even a year, then as soon as the ring hits the finger, they revert back to their old, asshole selves. If you think I’m just generalizing here (see: area of expertise #5), then look no further than the divorce rate in this country.

I should also mention that I set a personal record this past week: it took me no longer than 1 week to go into the dreaded “friend zone”. For those of you who don’t know me, I am the master of the friend zone. I have more girls that are friends (who have zero desire to see me naked) than any other self respecting male on the planet. I’m like the effeminate pony tailed guy in your apartment building who watches Grey’s Anatomy with you every Sunday. Only not as gay, and I don’t have a pony tail (but I do watch Grey’s Anatomy).

I’d love to recap the awkward conversation I had with this girl last night but I don’t really remember much of it. It was mostly a back and forth of “okays” and “ya knows”, with brief explanations of why she only wants to be friends, and “isn’t looking for anything right now”. What was funny about it is that she kept telling me how she really only sees me as a “friend” right now, and how we’re much more compatible that way, etc. I found this amusing, because I don’t think we’ve ever had a conversation that lasted more than 15 minutes, and we’ve known eachother for exactly one week. How does she know she wants to be friends with me?? For all she knows, I could be a dark, sadistic psychopath, that NO ONE wants to befriend. (Interestingly enough, I actually hinted on that towards the end of conversation, telling her “you know you haven’t even seen my dark sadistic side yet, you really should withhold your judgement of me until you get to know that side of me”. To which she replied “umm, yeah…I kinda have to go now…” I swear, it’s as if I do these horrible things just because it will get a huge laugh when I tell Steve the story later).

By the end of the conversation, I came to the realization that I probably am not really all that interested in her either. Sadly, I still am going about the dating process the same way I went about it in college: I.E. wake up next to a girl on Sunday morning, and have a relationship evolve from that. I don’t think that process works in the real world. However, I have no evidence that the standard process of forced intimacy over candlelight dinner with a complete stranger works either, because I’ve never actually done that before.

The question I will leave you all with is this: whats wrong with Mark? Am I really too nice? Should I move to New Zealand where the girls are less crazy? Is the college method of dating actually better than the standard real world method? The way I see it, if she sees you naked early in the relationship, there is less of a likelihood of disappointment later on (and for the record, I did not actually sleep with this girl). I think I’m just getting old, and growing tired of the typical female bullshit that I’ve come across and put up with for so long.

Mark is selling out

2006-02-06T11:44:00.000-08:00

...its not the first time, and it certainly won't be the last time. On Saturday, I made yet another impulse buy, and registered the domain name www.MarkIsSweet.com. Obviously I feel as if my fanbase has become too big for this particular website, and I needed something a little more catchy, and user friendly. Hopefully this means my popularity will expand well beyond New Zealand, and hopefully to other obscure island countries, like Burma, or Paupa New Guinea.

Below is an undated topographic relief depiction of the lovely island of New Zealand. My popularity is especially dense in the lower, nether regions.

Fuck Lincoln Park, and other thoughts from the week...

2006-01-31T21:18:00.000-08:00

Looks as if Steve wasn't the only one who had a sudden epiphany and became suddenly disenchanted with weekend life here in Chicago. This past Friday night, I had my coat stolen right out from under me at Kendall's in Lincoln Park. Yeah, thats right, apparently some yuppie former frat boy prick couldn't get mommy and daddy to buy him a new coat so just had to steal MY coat (purchased, of course, by my mother...but it was my birthday present!). This incident basically reinforces my opinion of 90% of the people that live in Lincoln Park. Most of them can't afford to live in the area, but force themselves to maintain a lifestyle that is beyond their means.

Well no fucking wonder you can't afford a coat, dipshit, you just dropped $1,100 in rent even though you only make $400 a week as an "administative assistant" (latin for "secretary"), because you desperately had to live near the intersection of Fullerton and Halsted. Congratulations asshole, you now are 20 grand in debt (on top of the 50 grand in student loans you took out to finance that degree that got you that prestigious position at Arbordahl and Associates), and furthermore, you take to stealing other people's coats on Friday nights even though it is 50 degrees out and you DON'T EVEN FUCKING NEED A COAT!

So needless to say, I won't be spending a dime in that neighborhood unless I absolutely HAVE to. As the late Joe Strummer once said, "the dollar is more powerful than a vote or a voice", and since I can't vote in Illinois, and I doubt there would be a bill up for public approval that would actually recreate the Chicago fire to burn down all of Lincoln Park anyway, I'll have to resort to this form of protest. Anyone with me? Didn't think so.

Some other thoughts from this week:

-the Oscar nominations came out today, and I don't think I'm the only one who doesn't give two shits. I will say that Terence Howard's performances in both "Hustle and Flow" and "Crash" were fucking amazing, and yes I actually did see both movies. If he doesn't win SOMETHING then I officially give up on the Academy Awards. Wait, is that Keira Knightley nominated for best actress? Thats it, I give up. Thats almost as funny as "Hilary Swank: Two Time Academy Award Winner"

-I got promoted at work today. As you might expect, this wasn't necessarily long overdue, and was more a result of no one else being worthy enough. Needless to say, other coworkers didn't take too kindly to this. I say fuck 'em, they didn't get their coats stolen last weekend.

-Last week we were fined $500 dollars by our building management for our New Years Eve party that evidently got out of hand. The building then had the nerve to use that money, and the money extorted from 3 other units, to purchase new floor tiles at the elevator landings, as well as security cameras. Great, NOW you get the security cameras, this would have been awfully helpful....say....December 31st, when we could have proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that we didn't break any lamps (that were already broken). The lesson? Never live in River City.

-books I'm reading currently: "Less Than Zero" by Bret Easton Ellis, and "Let Fury Have the Hour" by Antonio D'Ambrosio. The latter is a collection of essays on The Clash, and Joe Strummer's punk rock politics. Hence the quote earlier...

-Miami Hockey is #1 in the country right now!! Are you kidding me?? The Frozen Four tourney is also in Milwaukee this year, so hopefully we'll make it that far, so we can drive up to see them play. Interstingly enough, our hockey team is just the second team in the tri-state area (southwest ohio, southeast Indiana and Northeast Kentucky) to be #1 in a division 1 sport (the UC Bearcats have been #1 in basketball on 45 different occasions). And yes, I ripped that fact straight out of the article.

Combine that with Ben Roethlisberger in the Super Bowl, and its already been a hell of a week for Miami athletics. Go Redhawks!

....That being said, fuck the Steelers. Go Seahawks!

A Legend Retires

2006-01-25T08:58:00.000-08:00

Ok, time for a sports related post. All females and effeminate males must exit this page immediately.

As most of you are aware, the great Mario Lemieux announced his retirement yesterday. Since most media outlets are tripping over themselves putting together tribute montages set to cheesy early 90's music (like Jesus Jones, or Screaming Trees), I decided to go a slightly different route.

First off, I would of course like to pay the obligatory tribute to who I think is one of the top 5 greatest athletes of the last 25 years. The sports world may never again see an athlete quite like Mario, who combined unbelievable finesse, size, vision and instincts. Also, his return from his initial retirement in December 2000 is to this day one of my all time favorite sports moments. Super Mario netted a goal and an assist, and he hadn't played in 3 years. He then led the Penguins to the Eastern Conference finals (where they eventually lost to the trapping New Jersey Devils). To provide a more mainstream equivalent, that would be like the once-great Patrick Swayze coming back to make Point Break 2, and winning a best actor and best screenplay Oscar. Since my favorite team was dogshit at the time, I paid close attention to the Penguins that year, and the next year.

Just about every hockey fan has their favorite Mario Lemieux moment, like the 5 goals-every-way game, the Stanley Cups in 91 and 92 (which, growing up in western PA, it was hard NOT to get caught up in that), and of course, his return from hodgkins disease to win the scoring title in '96.

However, I wanted to pay tribute to a different side of Lemieux, a side with which most sports fans are familiar, but might not necessarily have enough respect. I am, of course, referring to Mario Lemieux' video game alter ego. In NHL '95 for Sega Genesis (maybe the greatest sports video game of all time, next to Super Tecmo Bowl), Super Mario was simply unstoppable. Also, in his own game, Mario Lemieux Hockey for Sega Genesis (a very underrated game), Lemieux was equally as invincable.

As far as I'm concerned, there are only 4 video game characters that are comparable to the great digi-Lemieux.

1. Jerry Rice -Super TecmoBowl (1991)- Absolutely without question the greatest video game football player of all time. All you had to do was throw it up there, and Rice had it. He made picking the Niners in two player mode a completely wuss move. Of course, anyone that did do this would be ridiculed incessantly, and would eventually lose all of their friends.

2. Walter Payton - Tecmo Bowl (the original, 1989)- Payton's explosiveness and versatility is what made the Ultimate Video Game Challenge of anyone's college years: Scoring 100 points with the Bears in Tecmo Bowl. It required, skill, a little bit of luck, and of course a backfield featuring the great Walter Payton. (Honorable mention to return man extraordinaire, Dennis Gentry, without whom the 100 Point Challenge would be impossible to achieve)

3. Brett Favre - Madden 98- Favre didn't reach legendary status until this game was released in 1997, the Packers were fresh off a Super Bowl victory over the Patriots that January, and Favre was the greatest video game athlete in the world. No one could thread the ball into triple coverage like Favre in '97. Also, for whatever reason, Favre had an unusual ability to avoid the sack, dusting off would be tacklers like a fullback. Playing with the Packers in season mode was almost unfair, but the game just wasn't the same playing with any other quarterback.

4. Nick Noheart -Ken Griffey Baseball (Super Nintendo, *Homerun Derby mode ONLY)- I could not find a screen shot for the life of me, but the true fans of the greatest baseball video game of all time know EXACTLY whom I'm talking about. To this day, there has not been a baseball game that has approached the level of fun as Ken Griffey Jr. Presents Major League Baseball, for Super Nintendo. The homerun derby mode was the precursor for many college chugging contests, and bruised egos. The fictional player that went up against Griffey in the contest (along with Sammy Scrap and Can O' Corn) was the devestating Nick Noheart, a right handed behemeth who had quite a knack for slapping 575 foot bombs to the opposite field in Camden Yards. This kind of power has yet to be duplicated in any video game setting, and, especially now that we're in the post-steroid era, we may never see anything quite like Nick Noheart again.

Thats all for today, stay tuned for an update on our senate hearing (AKA the condo board) from yesterday. I'm out.

My Weekend....and other random thoughts...

2006-01-23T12:36:00.000-08:00

This past weekend marked the first time since college that I've stayed out past 5am. Three red bulls will do that to you...

Also, Saturday was highly anticipated because of the impending shenanigans of my friend Ian (I really like the term "impending shenanigans" by the way, I might change the name of my blog to that...). You see, on New Years Eve of this year, Ian hooked up with a lacrosse player from University of Maryland. Apperently, he was so drunk that he didn't remember what this girl looked like. So after a barrage of text messages, he finally relented and agreed to meet this girl at a bar in Lakeview. Not wanting to miss what was likely to be one of the more entertaining moments of the year, myself and my roommates tagged along. All the while, we made fun of Ian for hooking up with what we expected to be a linebacker. We even threw around a few nicknames, like Romo, Katzenmoyer, Ray Lewis, and Spielman (all names of famous linebackers, for the sporting-illiterate). Also, every time a bearded man entered the bar, we would all look Ian and ask him, "is that her??" To add fuel to the fire, I grabbed Ian's phone and started text messaging her "I bet I can outdrink you".

After a few hours of trying to get Ian drunk enough for him not to remember again, this girl finally showed up. And wouldn't you know it? She was actually kind of cute! Here is a link to the Maryland Lacrosse media guide, scroll all the way to the bottom, her name is Acacia Walker. Maybe not the best picture, but she's definitely better looking than Ray Lewis. Plus she is a D-1 athlete....and thats more than Ian can say.

So, as you might imagine, Ian was quite relieved, and actually starting to get fired up. After buying a round of shots for her and her friend, Ian disappeared to the bathroom, upon returning, he realized they had bolted for the door. After she ignored several of his phone call attempts, we began to realize what exactly had happened. Somehow, she remember Ian being much better looking than he really was. Needless to say, SHE was the one that ended up being disappointed.

Now I'm no doctor, but I do believe that is the definition of irony.

Here are some other random thoughts for the week:

-Be sure to visit DeathCabforCutie.com, as today they unveil the first of 11 film shorts for each of their songs on the album "Plans". Now, again I'm no doctor, but I think "film short" might be the same as "music video". Then again, the music video as we know it became extinct the day "120 Minutes" was cancelled.

-I hope to have an audio clip of the voicemail I left Steve on Sunday morning (around 5am). Hi-fucking-larious....

-In response to the controversy I stirred last week, I agreed to read one of those crappy books, but after a backlash by my readers (I'll spare the details, but suffice to say the term "pansy" was used several times), I decided against it.

-Link of the day: http://www.wackywavinginflatablearmflailingtubeman.com
(work safe)

I Piss Off Girls

2006-01-18T20:32:00.000-08:00

It came to my attention today (more than once, actually) that I might have inadvertantly offended a few of my lady friends with the brief and ill advised rant on the dating practices of women in Monday's post. I would first like to preface this apology by making a few lame excuses. You see, I posted that at 3am that night, after I couldn't sleep, and was still more than a little hungover from the previous Sunday. Also, I tend to make broad generalizations, if you notice, its actually one of my 5 areas of expertise listed on your right.

Hence, I would like to revise a few of my statements. First off, the female demographic I was most targeting with these statements was the single, age 26-30 crowd. And my complaints were meant to be targeted towards the authors of said books, whom I feel profit off of people's insecurities, and perpetuate the insecurities at the same time. Also, I didn't actually say that ALL of those books were bullshit. Ok, so maybe I did say that all of those books were bullshit, but as it was pointed out to me today (quite vocally I might add), I haven't actually read ANY of these books, I've merely skimmed a few chapters of one, and subsequently made an assumption.

So as a result of the complaints, I had to back myself into a corner to make everyone happy. I agreed to read one of these "books", and then come to an educated, qualified conclusion. I just hope you are all happy, I can't wait to see the looks from everyone when I'm reading "He's Just Not That Into You" on the train. As if I don't already lose hetero-points on a weekly basis by watching "The O.C."

Some creative differences, and other thoughts...

2006-01-16T22:53:00.000-08:00

Steve has decided to split off from my blog and start his own. Funny how he got such a big fucking head after getting mentioned in Bill Simmons' column two weeks ago...

I got the impression that this was actually a difficult decision for Steve to make, and I wish I would have saved the email he sent me informing me of this decision. He came off as sheepish, and ashamed (as he should be). I guess I pictured him sitting in front of his computer for 2 hours, trying to find the words. In the end, he just couldn't tell me to my face.

Anyways, for anyone that might be interested in rants and opinions that are half as interesting as mine (but better written), check out http://thenaked-truth.blogspot.com

Here are some of my random thoughts and observations from the past week (oh and sorry for the lack of activity, if anyone still reads this, I've been busy....yeah, thats it...busy)

-I stayed up late tonight to catch musical guest The Bravery on Carson Daly's show. First off, (and I know this has been addressed before) just how out of touch are TV execs, anyway? Carson Daly was popular in 1999, back when kids were still doing drugs. Now that those kids are of drinking age now, they are out in bars getting fucked up while Carson is doing his show. Thank god it is only a half hour, because it was downright painful. He may be the least funny person on the planet.

Anyways, I was fairly disappointed in The Bravery, their lead singer can't sing to save his life. Hopefully this should put to rest all the comparisons to Franz Ferdinand, whom I saw live this past October, and they kick fucking ass.

-This past Friday, we took my friend Laura to her first NHL game. We saw the Blackhawks manhandle the lowly Pittsburgh Penguins 4-1, the high point in the evening coming early in the second period, when a fight broke out. Unbeknownst to Laura, this activity is not only allowed, but actually encouraged in the NHL. Her reaction was priceless: "...wait, so they can do that!? You mean they really let them hit eachother? That is awesome!"

I'm always doing my part to increase the popularity of the NHL. Seriously, if the 'Hawks weren't quite possibly the worst, most poorly run sports franchise in the entire world, they would have quite a following. (Interstingly enough, the place was actually close to packed on Friday night)

-If you didn't see a replay of Caps phenom Alexander Ovechkin's goal on Monday night, then I strongly suggest you head over to http://www.espn.com/nhl and check it out. It was probably the greatest goal I have ever seen.

-Can we quit the pissing and moaning over the new so-called "smoking ban" in Chicago? First of all, this won't even affect bars until 2008, and all of you idiot girls bitching about this will be married/moved to the 'burbs/knocked up by then anyway, so this really doesn't apply to you. I just feel bad for my 15 year old cousin, she's destined to be a smoker, and I could see this affecting her decision to attend Sarah Lawrence over Northwestern in 2008.

-Speaking of idiot girls, I have a new broad generalization (actually, this one is more like a generalization about broads). It seems to me that a lot of women are reading more of the self-help genre these days. Books like "He's Not That In To You", "Face it, You Aren't That Into Him Either", "Always Hold Out For Something Better", and of course "Never Sleep With Short Brown Guys" are flying off the shelves. I flipped through a few chapters of one of the aforementioned texts (two of which actually exist) the other day at my neighbor's house. I found most of what I read to be complete bullshit, and the other 30% to be of the "No Shit, Sherlock" variety. It seems to me that these authors are just trying to cash in on women's insecurities about dating. Maybe I'm just getting older, but all of a sudden its a fucking race to the altar, and not just that, but its a race to find the ideal man, and not someone who is particularly smart, but someone who has good genes and will make a good looking baby later on down the road.

Look, no one is saying anyone should be "settling" (or whatever your conventional definition of "slumming" might be), but why can't dating just be simple? If you like someone, if they make you laugh, if they pick up the occasional check, if they are at least mildly decent in bed, and don't have a face that scares small children, then stay with them, dammit! These fucking books are just filling your head with nonsense!

I actually talked about this with Amy at great length today, and the more I think about it, the more credit I have to give her. Her process was pretty simple. She found a guy that made her happy, so she stayed with him. And that was it. There was no Garry Marshall love story screenplay-in-the-making here.

As far as the superficiality in the dating process goes, Steve probably phrased it better than anyone: "if they are hot, but a fucking idiot now, just wait 20 years, and you'll be stuck with an ugly fucking idiot"

-Just got done reading Chuck Klosterman's "Killing Yourself to Live". I highly recommend it to anyone who worships at the twin altars of music and pop culture. Its like Nick Hornby's High Fidelity, only its more of an autobiographical account (85% of a true story, to be exact)

-Some bands I've been into lately: the aforementioned Bravery, Bloc Party, The Music, and Art Brut

-My favorite commercial on TV right now is without question those local ads for that buffet style restaurant Reza's. Its like they were trying to win a contest for the least amount of money spent on a television ad. Now the ad in question is actually quite simple: the premise involves 4 people arguing over where to go for dinner. The first person wants steak. The second wants vegetarian. The third wants seafood. The fourth person, interesting enough, wants kabobs. Now the funny part isn't just that this guy wants kabobs, but its his body english when he proclaims this. He is quite defiant, its kabobs or nothing! Now I can't tell you how many times I've had this happen to me, where I've had a crack-like craving for kabobs, to the point where its actually ended friendships. If Reza's was smart, they would start marketing t-shirts that said "Kabobs or Bust". Funny stuff...these are the things the tourist bureau should be paying attention to...not that "Navy Pier" crap.

http://www.rezasrestaurant.com/

..a look at their website reveals that they used that extra 8 dollars from the TV ad on a top notch internet site.

Whew! That ought to hold everyone over for a few days. As always, keep the comments clean, and try not to insult me too much, you know how I take everything seriously....

I want to leave the country

2006-01-09T19:31:00.000-08:00

I finally realized this weekend that I have officially outgrown this country. There is nothing left for me to do here. More specifically, I have lost the ability to communicate with 90% of the people living in this country. Perhaps its just the individuals I surround myself with, but there are few human beings alive that actually interest me. Take Saturday night for example: I went out and did the typical bar routine. I talked with a few people. I talked to a few girls, even. After 2 hours, I realized I was having the same conversation with everyone.

them: "hey whats up! what are you drinkin'?

me (trying desperately to remember their name): "oh hey, um, vodka tonic"

them: "so where are you working now?"

me (trying desperately to make my job sound important): "I actually work in admissions at an online university"

(I love how I always throw in the "actually", as if what I do is the LAST thing you'd expect me to do. Well, it probably is, now that I think about it. But they don't know me well enough to find the irony there. Its also funny how I answer this question in the same smug sense of accomplishment that a professional athlete would. I.E. "actually, now that you mention it, I play shortstop for the Kansas City Royals!")

them: "I love this song!"

me: "yeah, who knew The Pussycat Dolls were so gifted musically? I think they are trying to tell us something here. Something about how I wish my girlfriend was hot....you know, like them!"

them: "...right....so have you seen my roommate anywhere?"

me: "yeah I think she's talking to Jeremy"

them: "who is Jeremy?"

me: "Jeremy is that tall guy over there with the ankle long pea coat slung over the bar stool, and the briefcase with nothing in it but his sack lunch, and the special edition U2-Signed-IPod playing his "commute mix", which consists of nothing but Death Cab for Cutie and The Bravery, or whatever else the guy with dyed black hair and nailpolish that works at his accounting firm told him to listen to that week."

them: "I can't feel my teeth"

Now keep in mind, I'm not just referring to girls here. The guys I run into on a weekly basis are even more pathetic. Just replace all of the above conversation with a series of "Anchorman" quotes, and you get the idea.

Now I'm sure you are thinking "the Jeremy you described above is simply a taller version of you." Yes this is almost true, except for the U2 special edition IPod and the job worth bragging about. Now you see why I'm dying a slow death inside!!! I'M BECOMING "JEREMY"

Also, some of you might be thinking that I have a superiority complex, and I think I'm better than these people. Quite the contrary. I think it actually speaks volumes about my lack of communication skills that I can no longer talk to any of these people. This is a shortcoming, and there is little I can do about it. Are there any meds out there that can cure this?? Should I just start doing more recreational drugs? Is 26 too old for recreational drug use? I demand answers.

Am I crazy? Should Mark leave the country? Discuss amongst yourselves.

Who-Dey Time

2006-01-06T16:01:00.000-08:00

by: Steve

This Sunday, the Cincinnati Bengals take the field against the Pittsburgh Steelers in their first playoff game since 1990. Only one word can sum up my current emotions:
"YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#%$#%#$#!!!!!!!%%%##$%#ZLFOIVBANDLTKWO;JAJBALDJFGLAWOEJ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Let me just explain a little something to you here. In fact, let me tell you a story. (Ah, ah, ah, don’t you dare change the web address on me. Ok, if you sit through this, I promise to show you a picture of a naked woman at the end. Eagle Scout’s honor. Deal? Alright, then…) In 1988, there was a seven year old boy living peacefully in Lima, Ohio. He was just starting the second grade, and the world was full of new and exciting things. Things like pizza day in the school cafeteria, and, oh my God, oh my God… NINTENDO! Mike Tyson’s Punch Out! The Legend of Zelda! Was there anything else in life?

Well, as he would soon find out, there was something else in life. It was called the Cincinnati Bengals. Our hero was a Bengals fan by birthright (one of only two ways to be a true, true, blood and guts fan of a team. But that’s another column). In 1988, the Bengals raced off to a 6-0 start, immediately taking command of the former AFC Central, and never looked back. They were led by such Cincinnati legends as MVP quarterback Boomer Esiason, speedy running back James Brooks, one hit wonder Ickey Woods, and a defensive secondary that rightfully earned the nickname, "The Swat Team."

It was a glorious season, watching Boomer carve up defenses with his revolutionary no-huddle offense and a play-action fake that remains unrivaled to this day. The "Who Dey" chant was born. (If you require an explanation of the term "who dey," ask me later, as its true diction is embarrassing to say the least, and will only disrupt the flow of the story. But I guess I already did that, huh? Oops.) The Ickey Shuffle was born. Hudepohl, a Cincinnati brewer, came out with "Who Dey" beer, complete with a growling Bengal tiger on the side of the can. And yes, my dad still has a can of "Who Dey" beer from 1988 somewhere, and yes, he claims he’s going to drink it whenever the Bengals win a Super Bowl, and yes, I’m going to hold him to it, and yes, it will most likely involve a hospital visit.

January found the Bengals tearing through the playoffs, defeating the Bills for the AFC Championship, and making a trip to Joe Robbie stadium in Miami for Super Bowl XXIII against the San Francisco 49’ers and a certain gentleman by the name of Joe Montana. Our young hero was wide-eyed with excitement and anticipation. He had yet to feel the horrible sting of a crushing defeat, and his sports fan heart was innocent and pure.

That fateful night, his world would come crashing down around him, and he would be changed forever. In the third quarter, Stanford Jennings returned a 49’ers kickoff 93 yards for a touchdown. This seemed to be the Bengals’ night. With 3 minutes to play, they led 16-13, and Joe Cool took over on the 49’ers own 8 yard line.

Well, you can probably guess what happened next. The Comeback Kid (yes, Joe Montana, not Jason Giambi) drove 92 yards and hit John Taylor in the end zone in the dying seconds to secure a 20-16 San Fran victory.

Our young hero was dumbfounded. What happened? It wasn’t supposed to end like this! The Bengals weren’t supposed to lose! They were supposed to squash the competition like bugs, and raise the Lombardi trophy over their collective head, and carry Sam Wyche off the field, and ride back into Cincinnati on giant Clydesdale horses, as champions of the world. All of them together, Boomer, Brooks, Eddie, Ira, Horton, Ickey, Munoz, Krumrie, Fulcher, and Breech.

Terrified, and not knowing where to turn, our hero fled the scene and holed up in his parents’ bedroom, too embarrassed to let anyone see him cry. He wasn’t even sure why he was crying, but he couldn’t stop the tears. The world was a cruel, cruel place. And, for the moment, he wanted nothing to do with it.

Two years later, in the ’90-’91 season, the Bengals returned to the playoffs but lost in the second round. What followed from there was a record-setting thirteen year stretch of futility. And I mean record-setting literally. In the 1990s, the Bengals set the record for the worst winning percentage over a given decade of any professional sports team in history. Not just in the NFL. ANY PROFESSIONAL SPORTS TEAM IN HISTORY. The ineptitude dragged on, with no end in sight, with enough hopelessness to make Job lose faith.

But the true fans stayed true. The real who-dey’ers among us never lost faith. Because we knew that one day redemption would come. No one would accuse us of bandwagoning when legitimacy returned to the Jungle. Sure, there might be four presidential elections or so before that day, but nevertheless, it would come.

In 2003, redemption arrived in the Queen City in the form of Marvin Lewis. Finally, a head coach who had the character to stand up to idiots like Corey Dillon and Takeo Spikes and tell them that if they didn’t want to be here, we didn’t want them here either. After two promising 8-8 seasons and the brilliant development of three or four years of draft picks, it was time. The Bengals were back. The Jungle was the Jungle again. "Who Dey" meant "Who Dey" again. And finally, for the first time since Operation Desert Storm, there would be playoff football, on the river, in January, in Cincinnati.

Like many things in life, true fan loyalty can only be built over time. It is built by being there, unflinchingly, through the wins, losses, ups, downs, moments of elation, and stabbing wounds of defeat. It is sharpened during the times when no one else is looking. When the nation has forgotten about your team, and you’re the only one left in the stands, clutching a program your dad bought for you, so you could cut out the pictures and hang them on your bedroom wall. It does not arrive in a city as a Christmas gift, where thousands of people are transformed overnight into makeshift fans because the Browns moved to Baltimore and changed their name to the Ravens. A city that wins a championship with a three year old team does not know true fan loyalty. They weren’t there for the Dark Ages. They never had to defend their team in the face of ridiculing pundits when their team lay bleeding and lifeless in the gutter.

That’s why this Sunday is more than just a game for us true fans. It’s the eradication of fifteen years of heartache. It’s our reward for never losing faith. We’ve worn the stripes proudly our entire lives and we’re a laughingstock no more.

I was seven years old when I hid in my parents’ bedroom and cried after Super Bowl XXIII. Next month I’m going to be 25. When the day finally comes that the men in black and orange bring home a winner and hoist the Lombardi trophy, I can promise you right now, I’m going to bawl like a little boy. Only this time, I won’t be ashamed.

Um, the column’s over, what are you still doing here? You can go home now. What? Oh, you’re looking for the picture of the naked woman? You, sucker…I’m not an Eagle Scout.

Steve's First Blurb

2006-01-05T21:48:00.000-08:00

While he may be an aspiring writer, Steve isn't quite published yet. However, he just took one big step forward this morning. During halftime of last night's football game (highest rated college football game ever, by the way), Steve emailed ESPN.com's Bill Simmons (aka The Sports Guy) to point out that Reggie Bush's ill fated 2nd quarter lateral (which subsequently resulted in a turnover) was actually a prime example of when an "I'm Keith Hernandez moment goes wrong." In order to understand this, you must be both a Seinfeld fan and a Bill Simmons fan. I've explained the meaning of this to 12 people today, half of whom represent 150% of my audience, so I won't bother explaining it again here. Anyways, Simmons used Steve's email in his column this morning. Needless to say, this is HUGE.

Here is a link to the article. Scroll down to 10:30pm (its a running timeline diary). He even gives Steve's last name, which I never even do (I like to protect our identities, you know...because those blog groupies can be quite aggressive)

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=simmons/060105

Congratulations, Steve....but you couldn't plug our site at all?

Dick.

...and to add a few more to the list

2006-01-04T19:31:00.000-08:00

After thinking about it (and drinking a few beers), I decided there are actually a few more individuals whose fame is incomprehensible to the logical person. Here they are in no particular order:

William Hung (the guy from American Idol tryouts who really sucked and then got famous because of it)- I think this guy actually sold more records than Justin Guarini. Whats so depressing about this is that you just know a group of marketing geniuses sat around in a room, and a lightbulb went off, and one of them said, "hey this guy really sucks! The American public will totally buy into this!"

Nicole Ritchie - Hey if we are including Paris Hilton here, we'd be remissed if we didn't include Lionel Ritchie's daughter. At least Paris Hilton is biologically related to billionaires (ouch!)

Laura Quinn - (Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn's sister, who is of course dating OSU linebacker AJ Hawk) - I realize its probably nothing more than her 15 minutes of fame, but I'm a little nervous here. I get the distinct impression she'll be co-hosting Cold Pizza on ESPN 2 very soon. Failing that, this one has all the makings of a season on The Surreal Life. (and while we're at it, are there really people out there that think this girl is attractive? Seriously? She has a squished grape shaped head, and enough eyeliner to cover a team of Vegas showgirls for a month. I'd rather fuck Brady.

Mike Mizanin (aka The Real World Season 10's "The Miz")- really I could have included just about any reality TV star here, but I just had to single Mike out. Its not just because he lived in my dorm freshman year of college, its because I know for a fact that he is a massive tool. As far as reality TV stars go, he doesn't bring anything in particular to the table. He's not good looking, he's not the least bit funny, he can't sing, he can't dance, and furthermore, his grooming habits leave a lot to be desired. At least The Bachelor's Jesse Palmer can throw a football.

Jarrod from Subway- never has any human being cashed in on so little. You know my parents' pet pug inexplicably lost a ton of weight over the summer thanks to being boarded up after the house flooded (he wasn't allowed to overindulge himself on snausages and digital cable for once in his life), but yet you don't see Brutus getting a lifetime Milkbone endorsement.

Fred Durst - this one goes without saying. I mean, don't get me wrong, there are plenty of people in the music industry without talent (see: Nickleback), but this just takes it to a whole new level. Again, his exclusion from a full season of The Surreal Life warrants a letter to your local congressman. At least William Hung went to college.

Now that I think about it, I think we have our next season of The Surreal Life right here in front of us. Just throw in O.J. Simpson and the "Dude, you're gettin' a Dell" guy, and we might have ourselves a hit. I refused to include Kevin Federline on this list, despite prodding from my roommates (and his undeserved sense of accomplishment) because he can at least dance, and, as the world will soon find out, he can RAP!

Paris Hilton Sucks

2006-01-04T19:26:00.000-08:00

Editor's Note: I've been wanting to write about this for some time now, but quite frankly, I just couldn't find the words. Luckily, Steve majored in creative writing in college, so writing about stuff like this is about the only thing his education has prepared him for. The only thing my education has prepared me for is to vote democrat and to get used to not banging chicks after college. Enjoy!

Since the world has selected me as the sole remaining voice of reason and protectorate of what we used to know as dignity and common sense in societal issues, allow me to pose a question that has blown my mind for a year or two now: Why the #$*@!! is Paris Hilton famous? Seriously, why do I know who she is? My first reaction when I heard about the Paris Hilton sex tape was: “Who the fuck is Paris Hilton and why am I supposed to care that she’s publishing amateur porn?” After learning that she was the spoiled rich bimbo daughter of the Hilton Hotel franchise, I thought, “Oh. So, who gives a shit? I guess now she’s going to embarrass her family, cause their stock to go down, be ostracized from Thanksgiving dinners, and be the punch line to a dirty joke within a week. Whoopty-doo. Put Tiny Toons back on.”

Much to my shock/dismay/chagrin/actually-what-am-I-saying-I-didn’t-really-care, she instantly became one of the hottest celebrities in the country. Within a year, she had her own show and was hosting Saturday Night Live. I didn’t understand it. Did I miss something? Was she a one-time great recording artist that hit rock bottom and America was giving her a second chance? Was she an amateur porn star that was crossing over into the mainstream and showing the world that it’s OK for members of the adult film industry to keep their clothes on and make an honest living in entertainment? Or was it actually true that our society had become so fickle and soulless that we actually reward this kind of behavior by instantly showering fame and riches on any whore who comes out with a video tape of herself getting bulldogged in a hotel room under night vision?

For a while, I assumed she was just the flavor of the week, and that she would soon be deposited in the same pop culture refuse bin as Rob and Amber. But, for whatever reason, I’m still hearing about her. The main source of my bewilderment is simple: What does she do? She doesn’t sing (which is hardly even a requirement to make it in the music industry any more). She can’t act (as evidenced by her insulting appearance on SNL in yet another pathetic installment of a down-spiraling once-great show). And finally…SHE’S NOT EVEN ATTRACTIVE! Yeah, that’s right. I know you just assumed she’s gorgeous because she’s tall, thin, blonde, and standing in front of a camera. But look again. Take off the rose colored glasses that Entertainment Tonight and MTV force you to wear every day of your life, and look at the world through your own eyes again. She is not attractive. Not that this characteristic alone would validate her mind-boggling presence in the limelight, but at least it would make something resembling sense. I’ll accept superficiality over outright nonsense.

Now, I’m certainly not embarking on a crusade to determine who is and is not worthy of celebrity; I’m simply pointing out the most extreme example. Does Tara Reid deserve to have her own show? I won’t dignify that with a response. Tara shouldn’t be allowed to act in the Christmas play my little cousins put on for my grandparents in our living room. She’s that bad. But at least she sucks at something. At least we can categorize her as a terrible actor. I can at least fathom her celebrity because her case is not exactly a rarity: atrocious actor, smoking hot, hard working agent, instant millionaire.

With Hilton on the other hand, the sheep followed the farmer to market so fast and so obediently, no one bothered to stop and ask, “Wait! Why are we celebrating her? What has she done? What does she do? What art form does she fall under? Why do I care that her stupid little dog has a new pink hat?”

Seriously, guys. Can we please develop some sort of criteria that people have to meet in order to be considered a celebrity? Give me the guy who beat Super Mario Brothers 3 in eight minutes. At least I would have one, maybe even two questions to ask him (namely: How long did it take you? and, When’s the last time you saw a woman naked?) Give me something to work with. Throw me a bone here. I will now remove my eyeballs with a rusty butter knife and fill the sockets with silly putty.

Kent's Christmas

2006-01-04T09:09:00.000-08:00

Editors Note: You can always count on Mark's good friend Kent to bring evidence to oppose popular belief. Yes it is true, nerds do in fact celebrate Christmas. They just spend less of their time drinking spiked egg nog and swapping Ipod Nano's and more of their time playing Warcraft or Halo 2. Enjoy!

----------
With another holiday behind us, it's time to sit back and take stock of what we gained during this Christmas season. Literally.

I normally get pretty predictable gifts for Christmas, since most of my family just asks me what I want or drops the ever-popular gift certificate. (I think at this point, I have enough Borders gift certificates to become their majority shareholder. I would crush Barnes & Noble like a bug. But I think I'll just buy some CDs instead.)

While my own family didn't change their mundane gift-giving habits this Christmas, my girlfriend Paula and her family were good for some rather interesting presents. Let's take a look.

Shochu Yokaichi Mugi - from Paula's uncle

Certainly the most interesting and mysterious gift I received this year. So mysterious, in fact, that the gift giver didn't even know what the hell it was. All Paula's uncle could tell me about this Japanese bottle of liquor was that "it wasn't in the sake aisle".

After a bit of internet searching, I discovered that Shochu is a trendy Japanese liquor (for those who view sake as "so Tokugawa period"). It's clear in appearance like vodka, but the Mugi variety is distilled from barley, giving it a taste similar to whiskey. I drank it on the rocks with ginger ale on New Year's Eve. Two thumbs up.

Atari Flashback - from Paula

The ultimate in classic gaming. Paula's a pretty big fan of old school video games, to the point where she complains that there are too many buttons on the Super NES controller. We'd spent a lot of the earlier part of the year searching out cheap used NES games, building a formidable library. "Legacy of the Wizard? Never heard of it... but it's only $1.50! Awesome!" So definitely a good gift, although I'm not sure how it compares to what Paula got her sister's boyfriend -- cigars, booze, and a copy of Playboy from 1973.

Because He Could - from Paula's dad

Hmm. I think some signals got crossed here. I'm a fervent Democrat, but this is a Clinton-bashing book. I know Paula's dad leans a bit to the right, but I don't think he's trying to evangelize or anything, considering he also got me an anti-Wal-Mart book. Maybe he saw the cover and neglected to read the description. Oh well, I'm sure it will be quite the entertaining read.

Nothing - from Paula's aunt and grandma

No, Paula's aunt and granny don't hate me (I hope), it's just that they're down with Jehovah. And I ain't talkin' bout the Jigga-man, H to the izzo, V to the izzay. Jehovah's Witnesses don't celebrate holidays, so I won't be expecting birthday presents from them either.

Prarie Belt Smoked Sausage - from Paula's sister

The crown jewel of my Christmas presents. I think it's some sort of family tradition that this can of meat gets repackaged and given to someone else at every Christmas. Maybe I should really screw with them and actually eat it. But it will be rather hard to get past that first ingredient -- "mechanically separated chicken". I don't even know what that means. And "pork spleens"? Mmm. Just like mom used to make.

On second thought, I think I'll start trying to find a new owner for this can ASAP. Hey, only 333 days until Mark's birthday!

--K

New Years Party

2005-12-29T08:51:00.000-08:00

Check it out- the flier for our New Years party this weekend. Everyone is invited except certain tools that work with me. There will already be enough tools at my apartment this weekend, sorry!

Random Thoughts...

2005-12-28T10:24:00.000-08:00

Sorry its been a while kids! But I'm back, and I just had a few random thoughts I wanted to get out there. I was in Virginia all last week and part of this week for Christmas. As you might expect, going down to the south is always an interesting experience, and as much I enjoy seeing the fam, I'm always happy to leave. Here are my random thoughts from the week...

-Roanoke, VA is not as bad as Richmond, VA- as my sister, who has lived in both places, can attest, Roanoke provides a lot of the southern charm that Richmond sorely lacks. Richmond is simply "a series of loosely connected strip malls". Its like LA without the cool. No charm whatsoever, and a whole lot of racism to boot. Worst city in America, hands down. But thats another column....

-I revise my Worst Human Beings in the World label. I once stated that Ohio State fans from Cleveland are the Worst Human Beings in the World. I know revise that statement to also include Christmas Shopping Soccer Moms. I want them all dead.

-Roanoke happens to be the hometown of a few relatively famous athletes. Interestingly enough, the most popular athletes from Roanoke are Tiki and Ronde Barber (both black). The least popular by far is Duke basketball standout JJ Redick (prototypical white boy perimiter shooter). This is by no means a commentary on the social landscape of the south, but it should count for something, right?

-I just had to share this exchange I had at a bar with a guy I knew from high school:

me: hey Chuck! good to see you, long time (etc.)

Chuck: hey Mark, how are you? I was just on my way out actually...I was going to pay my tab, but I might just say "fuck it" and leave, I dont feel like waiting for the bartender to close me out. Besides they only charge like, what? 30% of the tab if you dont close it? I'll be honest with you Mark, thats not a lot of money to me...

me: Wow, I'm very proud of you Chuck

...just so you know, these are the typical assholes I graduated with, and this is a prime example of why I only speak with 2 people from high school.

The following observations were made while watching VH1 Classic while really really high:

-Have you ever actually listened to the lyrics in "Wind Beneath My Wings"? Bette Midler is a pompous bitch! The song was clearly written about her husband. I encourage all of you to google the lyrics of that song. Astounding...

-Topper Headon is the most underrated drummer of all time. I'm not just saying that because The Clash is one of my all time favorite bands. The guy is amazing. And I find it interesting that he was the only one in the band with any sort of real drug problem. Coincidence?

-The English Beat's "Save it for Later" is the most underrated great song of the 1980's. You may remember one hit wonder Harvey Danger doing a half-assed cover of it around 98-99.

-I don't care what anybody says, I happen to like The Spin Doctors

-Every casino in Las Vegas is the same. There. I said it. Some of them are shaped differently from the outside, and some have fewer exits. But they are all the same. (By the way I was in Vegas two weekends ago)

I'll be back later this week with a few more updates. Hope everyone has a great new years! Be safe, and if you drive, make sure you have a few drinks first to lower your inhibitions.

Since Steve Sucks - Introducing: Kent

2005-12-16T09:05:00.000-08:00

Editor's Note: Since Steve failed to be as consistently creative as once thought, I had to beg my old friend Kent to become a contributor to the blog. Actually...he begged me. So I finally relented. Kent and I go way back....all the way to little league, when he played on the shitty team, and my team beat his team 33-9. We became friends in high school, where we shared interests in music, not drinking, and not getting laid.

*************
Since Mark is apparently unable to update his blog frequently enough, he has recruited me to be a Guest Columnist. Ok, actually I begged to be included, since I'm the proud owner of two failed blogs that *I* didn't update frequently enough, and this blog actually has "readers". So, although I won't drink up all the Hennessey ya got on your shelf (I prefer Courvoisier), please let me introduce myself.

My name is Kentie. (Pronounced with the "entie". Ok, enough Humpty Dance
shout-outs.) I'm 26, and I live in Cleveland. In some ways, I'm kind of like Mark. Mark has two sides of his personality. There's his nerdy side, where he spews forth baseball statistics and movie quotes like they're going out of style. But then there's his cool side, where he goes out and drinks and socializes with his well-adjusted friends. Well, I'm Mark's nerdy side.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I do cool things like drink and get laid. I just look really nerdy when I do them.

I can't help it. I was an only child, so I read nerdy books and played nerdy video games a lot. I went to a nerdy high school (from which Mark escaped just in time) and a nerdy college, where I joined a nerdy fraternity. I work at for a nerdy company where I research nerdy topics all day. And at the end of my day, I go home to... well, actually, my girlfriend is pretty cool. But even she can't stop my juggernaut of nerddom sometimes.

(Note to self: make sure Mark codes those links to open in a new window. Otherwise, there's no way anybody will still be reading this.)

If you want to know anything else about me (because you certainly haven't learned enough yet), you can check out my Friendster profile. It's useful for seeing what I was into, you know, two years ago when I made the friggin' thing. You can also see all eight of my friends, five of whom I haven't talked to in over a year, and only one of whom was nice enough to write a semi-coherent and error-filled testimonial.

Sorry if I seem bitter, but I do live in the city that produced Harvey Pekar.

Ok, I'll get on with my 5 Areas of Expertise and leave you alone. For now.

1. Music (post-1977)
2. IQ tests/logic problems
3. Family Guy quotes
4. Skepticism
5. Console video games (1985-1994)

Until next time,
---K

Matt's Law School Essay

2005-12-15T09:49:00.000-08:00

Editor's note: Aside from having the distinction of being one of only 2 longterm friends Mark made in high school (in Virginia), Matt Helbling also holds the distinction of being suspended from said high school a record 3 times in one year. His destructive lifestyle and acerbic cutdowns made him feared and respected; his pectorals made him a legend. Currently attending law school in Florida, here is a copy of the essay that got him admitted.

School never really served a purpose for me, it was always just something I had to attend and I never really grasped the reason why. As a small child, I viewed it as just another nuisance that I was forced to endure much in the same way I viewed having to go to a wedding or meeting some of my father’s associates. It was this unpleasant formality that I never understood or liked simply because I would have to behave or dress a certain way that seemed alien to me. Once I became a teenager school became a requirement so that I may participate on the sporting teams that the school funded. It remained an unpleasant experience where I had to dress and behave in a way that was foreign to me.

The things that the teachers lectured to me about were absolutely ludicrous! I mean it was like they were making it up right on the spot. Imaginary numbers, evolution, and Spanish? Who had ever heard such nonsense?!? I tricked the teachers and administrators into thinking I had been taking their mind control serums and listening to their subliminal messages hidden in their lectures enough to receive a degree and escape from their tyrannical grip until I learned the horror that awaited me: college.

By definition college is supposed to be an enormous test that will separate the wheat from the chaff like an academic thresher. However, it turned out to be a massive pyramid scheme where they will give you a diploma in exchange for the ability to harass you for the rest of your life to donate money to them.In college I was encouraged to major in a field that would be worth the paper it was printed on, meaning that if you opened a newspaper classifieds, you would see ads for your field of study. My sister had chosen accounting and since she and I have similar tastes, I decided to try it also.

Now, when I entered the workforce after graduation I assumed that working in accounting would be exactly like it is in the movies. Jet setting around the world, seducing beautiful women, and foiling international terrorism plots. But there were no secret gadgets, trips to Monaco, or cars that turned into submarines. I was deeply concerned by this oversight and brought it up at the first staff meeting in my office. It seems that James Bond has as much to with accounting as Indiana Jones has to do with actual archeology. He isn’t even an accountant at all, he was British!!

Distraught and confused I turned to my spiritual and moral guide in my life, I looked down at the bracelet on my wrist and wondered aloud, “What would Bill Clinton do?” A bright light appeared and out stepped Bill Clinton with an incandescent glow the color of a clear sky, dressed in Jedi robes.

“Matt, I have listened to your quandary and while I can not tell you what to do, I can point you in the right direction. When I was lost after undergraduate where do you think I turned?”

“You went to Yale Law School.”

“That’s right and it became the launching pad for one of the greatest stories in American history. The same could be true for you, but you have to ask yourself, ‘why should you go to law school?’

“Because….of…. the unisex bathroom on Allie McBeal?”

“Precisely. My work is here done.”

And with that former President Clinton vanished and my future became clearer than crystal: I must go to law school.

The, like, Degradation of the English Language - an editorial by Steve

2005-12-14T14:25:00.000-08:00

Editor's note: My roommate Steve was suppose to be a frequent contributor to this 'blog since its inception in late October. However, he's been really busy lately not banging chicks, so he hasn't had much time to post anything. Thankfully, he had a meltdown of sorts on the way to work this morning, so he felt obgligated to write about his experience. Enjoy!

Eavesdropping on a conversation between two female college students this morning on my way to work, I decided to do a little test for my amusement. The result was humorous but not very surprising: Between the two of them, they said the word “like” 92 times in five minutes. This is not an exaggeration. I actually kept count and, if anything, it’s a little low, because at times the “likes” came so fast and were skimmed over so quickly that I may have missed a few. Neither is this a rare phenomenon. Perform your own test on conversations you overhear, or even ones you’re involved in, and you’ll be astounded at the results.

The word “like” has imbedded itself into our everyday speech in a way that seems almost impossible to remove any more. For some reason we find it necessary to insert it every time we say anything resembling an approximation, (“I must have had, like, 15 beers last night”) a direct quotation of someone, (“..and he was like, ‘I’m not going out that night.’”) or any time we pause in conversation (“I don’t know. He’s being all, like, weird.”). At times, the word “like” seems to have literally replaced the comma in our everyday speech. Look how ridiculous this sentence looks in print, when you wouldn’t bat an eyelash if you were to hear someone utter it in conversation: “Like, what if we, like, got everyone together and, like, raised like $50,000?”

And this is only the beginning of the degradation of the English language that is occurring on a daily basis in this country. What comes out on paper is far worse. Now, I’m not writing this to be a smartass or to belittle anyone (well, that’s not entirely true). I’m writing it because I see these glaring errors on resumes, work e-mails, even professional signs and television commercials. And I’m telling you, it makes you look like an idiot. I know an employer who, just yesterday, didn’t hire someone he otherwise would have based solely on the second grade-level excuse for a thank you e-mail she sent him the day after the interview. At the risk of coming off as an enormous tool, as well as losing any chance to sleep with any female reader of this blog (which I’m sure by now numbers into the thousands) let me offer a few grammatical tips that you should have learned in third grade English class:

It’s not “Where’s my keys?”, or “There’s some chairs in the back.”, it’s “Where are my keys?”, and “There are some chairs in the back.”
Think about what you’re saying: When you say “Where’s my keys?” you’re saying “Where is my keys?” Unless you’re Popeye, this needs to stop.
It’s = a contraction of it is. (“It’s almost five ‘o clock.”)
Its = possessive form of “it”. (“The clock needs its battery replaced.”)
I suppose if you’re talking about the odd hairstyle of a certain member of the Addams Family, you would say, “Cousin It’s hair is really weird.” But that’s the only exception.
You’re = contraction of you are. (“You’re really not that great of a lover, Senator.”)
Your = possessive form of “you”. (“Your breath reeks of hookers and bong resin, Senator.”)
Honestly, people, you look like first graders when you mix these two up.

This is a tough one, I know, because there are three of them:
They’re = contraction of they are. (“They’re necrophiliacs.”)
Their = possessive form of “they”. (“Their necrophilia is simply not going to fly at this company.”)
There = it’s the word “there”, OK? Opposite of “here.” I shouldn’t need to explain any further.

This is the absolute worst one, and it’s gotten so bad that I’m actually surprised when I see it the correct way any more. Listen to me closely now: JUST BECAUSE A WORD ENDS WITH THE LETTER “S” DOES NOT MEAN AN APOSTROPHE GOES BEFORE THE “S”. My senior year of college, the Skyline Chili in Oxford was running a promotion in which they had coney dogs for $.99. A giant banner, made by a professional signage company, costing what I can only assume to be between $100 and $200, stretched across the front of the restaurant, reading: “99 CENT CONEY’S”. Look at that for a second, and if you don’t see anything wrong with it, you need to seriously consider taking an online remedial English course before you apply for any job. This sign would seem to imply that there’s a man named “99 CENT CONEY” and the place belongs to him.

Now, I know that everything is done by computers any more, and Microsoft Word will automatically correct some of your grammatical errors in anything you type, and that these days the average person probably reads about three and a half books in his or her lifetime, and that our attention spans have been shrunken to only accept whatever mindless crap MTV can cram into a five second sound byte, but come on. I’m not asking that everyone knows the difference between the preterit and the past participle, merely that they’re capable of typing a paper that would get a passing grade in a third grade English class, as well as carrying on a conversation that contains less than fifteen “likes” per minute.

Let me close with the following revelation I just had, literally thirty seconds ago. Last year, after a brilliantly composed letter to a sultry vixen failed to have the intended effect, I lamented to Mark, “I spent $40,000 on a bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing. It sure as hell didn’t get me a job; the least it could do is get me laid.” Today, it has likely taken me a step in the opposite direction.

Shark Jumping

2005-12-13T17:48:00.000-08:00

The term "jumping the shark" is a reference to an episode of "Happy Days", where, after intense peer pressure, Arther "Fonzie" Fonzarelli decides to water-ski jump a shark. Evidently, the show started to suck after that, and the term "jumping the shark" was born. Recently, I've noticed a rash of television shows this season, and last season, that have undoubtedly begun the shark jumping process. Here is a list of some of my favorites:

1. Family Guy - It really breaks my heart to include this show on this list, but I just can't help it. In the 4th episode of the new season, Quagmire is accused of sexually harrassing Lois, after she catches him watching her pee in a bowling alley bathroom. While it may have only been one episode, it seemed lazy of the writers to have the other characters fully acknowledge Quagmire's creepiness. Luckily, the relationship between Stewie and Brian has become a focal point of the show, which is delaying the shark jumping process.

2. Commander in Chief - Don't even get me started on the far fetched concept of a woman as president (kidding!). This show was doomed as soon as Mark-Paul Gosselaar made his first appearance. I'm sorry, but I just can't take this guy seriously. Its Zack Morris for gods sake! I keep half expecting him to bring Screech to a cabinet meeting (dressed like a girl, of course), so he can infiltrate the White House bathroom and plant a subliminal tape in the president's walk-man.

3. The O.C. - This show has the distinction of jumping the shark every two months or so. First of all, Marissa Cooper may be the unintentionally dumbest TV character of all time. Why is it that every time Marissa meets a new boy, everyone cringes, because we know whats going to happen next? Lest we forget The Great Oliver Debacle? Its as if the writers knew it was a bad idea to begin with....they named him Oliver! An obvious reference to the last season of The Brady Bunch, when Cousin Oliver showed up, and fucked everything up.

4. Grey's Anatomy - I know I'm going to get skewered in the comments about this one. Look, I know this show is SCORCHING hot right now, and to badmouth it is blasphemy along the lines of accusing the Pope of being a gay child molestor. But has anyone else noticed that this show is nothing more than The O.C. in the O.R.? Look, I realize that shows like this require a certain stretch of the imagination in order to enjoy fully, but please lets be reasonable. (I even asked my father, a physician of 30 years, to be sure) DOCTORS AREN'T FUCKING EACHOTHER IN BETWEEN SHIFTS! Nor are they as hot as Katherine Heigl and Ellen Pompeo. This show jumped the shark on Day One, and is saved only by the underrated Sandra Oh, who actually was just nominated for a Golden Globe for her work on this crapfest.

5. Saturday Night Live - Two Words: DANE COOK. Whaaa? Dane Cook hosted SNL? Was D.L. Hughley booked that night??

Feel free to submit your own shark sightings, or visit http://www.jumptheshark.com for the largest running shark jumping database on the planet.

I'm off to Vegas this weekend, so expect a mildly hilarious, severely embellished anecdote next Monday!

Why I Love Kevin Federline

2005-12-12T10:33:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the lack of activity lately, but I've been nursing a sore hamstring

I just don't get it. What would YOU do if you were presented with the option of regularly banging Britney Spears while becoming an instant millionaire? If I asked this question to a thousand males, I can bet you "get a job" would be listed as a possible response from less than 1% of them. So that should settle this whole debacle. There. I've officially put it into perspective.

Now I know that Britney's soon to be ex-husband has caught a lot of flak recently from under and overweight celebrity gossip columnists, but is it really justified? I mean, whats NOT to like about a white guy in corn rows? I didn't hear Red Sox fans complaining last year. Seriously though, if you think about it, would K-Fed (god I hate myself right now) catch as much heat if he were a woman? So he smokes pot in the house, hangs out with dealers, heads to Vegas every weekend and doesn't clean up after himself? Sounds a lot like me actually. Every one of his actions is justified in my opinion. I'll go down the list of allegations:

1. Smoking pot in the house - Would you rather he smoke outside? In full view of the paparazzi? It would destroy their sterling reputation! Besides, she makes enough money, if it really bothered her, she could buy a walk-in humidor.

2. Spending her money - Whats the big deal? If it were a male celebrity, and the no name wife spent all of his money, would we be making a big deal of this? Didn't think so. Besides, as my buddy Phil's girlfriend put it, "if they love eachother, then the money shouldn't matter".
(ok, she might live on a different plane of existence, but she's only 20)

3. Flaking out and going to Vegas - This is a time honored celebrity tradition that should be worthy of our envy. What bored husband doesn't skip out to Vegas when the in-laws are driving him nuts? Thats a whole other can of worms I neglected to mention. Britney's mom LIVES IN THAT HOUSE! How does Britney maintain her sanity, let alone Kevin??

Also, it would not be fair if I neglected to mention the infamous Federline rap album. Sub-par as it is predestined to be, is it not an effort to generate some kind of income? Laugh all you want, but if I was married to a multimillionaire, I wouldn't be completely worthless, I'd probably do something that I love to do, whether or not it made money, just to DO it. And it appears Kevin is rapping, because, well, thats what he loves to do....I guess....

Bottom line is that Kevin Federline is living the American Dream, and you are all just JEALOUS!

26th Birthday Party - a daily diary

2005-12-03T23:13:00.000-08:00

Last night, I celebrated my 26th birthday party in style at Burwood Tap in Lincoln Park. Believe it or not, this was my first birthday party in 20 years. Yes thats right....my 6th birthday party was my last, until last night. Since I didn't know what else to write about, I decided to post a running diary of the evening, as it was interesting, and eventful to say the least (and yes, I am aware that I am ripping off a device used by ESPN's Bill Simmons for the umpteenth time)

11:36 am CST: I stumble into work three and a half hours late, my actual birthday was last night, so naturally I went out and had a few drinks, after a nice quiet dinner at Strega Nona in Wrigleyville with a chosen few. My coworker, Phil did his predictable "Tom (my boss) is pissed..." routine, and I did my predictable "overreact and junior his keyboard" routine (definition of "junioring" prank to be explained at a later time). As it turned out, Tom, who was having one of his trademark PMS days, must have granted me a reprieve, because he didn't give me too much crap.

4:14pm CST: Contemplating happy hour.........nahh, I want to make it past midnight tonight.. Plus I'm broke.

5:58pm CST: Just arrived home. Yes it takes me an hour to get home, reason #532 why my job sucks ass. My neighbor Brandy made me cake. I have the world's greatest neighbors.

8:01pm CST: Steve and I are off to the bar. Deemo, the 3rd roommate, would be with us but he did his trademark "I haven't done anything all day but skip work, watch TV, and not do the dishes, why wouldn't I wait till 7 to go running?"

9:05pm CST: Most depressing moment of the evening. Since we reserved the back room of the bar along with another party of 40 people (my estimated population was 30), we were amongst unfamiliar faces for the better part of the evening. The first 15 minutes of which was just myself and Steve. I found myself staring at the door, questioning whether or not I actually have friends. Then sure enough, my favorite coworkers Kara, Andrew and Tana showed up.

9:22pm CST: Ok, I'm 4 vodka tonics into the evening and I'm not feeling it yet. Better switch to beer, because at least I know it won't be a weak drink. (and yes, I did down 4 V&T's in under 20 minutes, surely a cause for later events...)

9:40pm CST: It took nearly 40 minutes for the first shot to make its appearance. Good ol' Uncle Jagar, courtesy of Chad.

9:53pm CST: Looks like a good turnout. 20 plus, and its not even 10pm. I guess I'm popular after all. Which makes me realize just how badly I needed a birthday party to reaffirm this. You see, I sit next to Phil all day at work, and he does nothing but remind me of how bad I suck, how I'm not funny, popular or nice to look at.

9:58pm CST: Well no one has thrown up yet, guess that means its car bomb time! We clearly are not in midseason drinking form, both me and Steve go running to the bathroom: Steve clears his stomach, while I just get a brief case of the spits. After a few minutes I'm good to go.

10:14pm CST: my friend Brad arrives with his sassy, quick witted and good looking entourage. I must be getting pretty destroyed, because I have the following exchange with one of his (good looking female) friends:

her: Hey nice to meet you! Happy birthday!

me: thanks you!

yes thats right, I said "thanks you." It is moments like this that make me wonder how I've ever seen a woman naked.

10:24pm CST: Now things are getting interesting. An unnamed female friend arrives, and I promptly kiss her, and she thanks me by giving me the gum she was chewing at the time. At least I think thats what happened, I can't really be sure. And I say "unnamed female friend" only because I don't really remember who it was. I can't even be sure it was a female, actually.... (god I hope it was) These are the things that can only happen on your birthday.

10:55pm CST: I spend 15 minutes convincing my friend Laura that she is totally hot, and could get any guy at this bar (except me of course). I point out Andrew as an example, but she says "no way, he's too good looking for me". Um, what? Am I missing something here? Andrew? Heinous Andrew? He can't even shave!

12:00am CST: Fast forward to midnight, not because nothing happened, but because I don't really remember anything happening. Both Brad and Andrew have extra tickets to tomorrow's Illinois/Xavier basketball game. I feel like a kid choosing which one of his divorced parents he wants to live with. I choose Brad, because of his sassy entourage. He says "ok great, hold on I'll be right back". And I never saw him again the rest of the night. Turns out I was too hungover to even think about going to the game anyway, but thats besides the point.

1:00am CST: Friday night in Chicago, hence the bars close up early! I stumble into the chilly night, drunker than a soccer mom at a country club happy hour, and somehow I lose everyone. So I'm on the streets by myself. I somehow find the train, which is downright miraculous.

1:39pm CST: I wake up on the train to find myself deep on the south side. I get off the train on the 35th street exit, a good 3 miles from home, and not exactly the greatest neighborhood to be walking in. I contemplate footing it, but think better of it. After a 20 minute wait, the next train arrives and I get on it, and promptly vomit everywhere. Good thing the only people on the train at 2am on the south side are the only people in the world that are accustomed to this sort of behavior. Nobody so much as bats an eyelash, and I arrive safely at home 10 minutes later.

OK, so maybe it wasn't as eventful as I would have liked. I was hoping for a P. Diddy/bottles of Krystal/strippers ripping lines of coke off the top of my penis kind of party, but settled for a mild mannered get together instead. (This begs the question, do strippers actually do that?)

All in all, a good time was had by all. I believed I summed it up best when my friend Kara asked me, "so now that you are 26, you are technically 'almost 30', are you still allowed to get drunk and hook up with chicks every weekend?" To which I replied, "why start now?"

Have a great week kids!

Just what the hell is Steve doing in this photo anyway? Is he kissing my right ear? As if I needed any fuel to the fire....I lose 10 hetero-points right here. Also, whats with white people and the index finger and pinky pose?

The List of Demands

2005-12-01T07:31:00.000-08:00

Recently, my old buddy Paul contemplated getting back with his exgirlfriend. Beforehand, however, she sent him a list of demands that must be met in order for their union to be reestablished. Finding this to be unfair, and ultimately, hilarious, he decided to share this with us, and ask for our opinion. She made about 20 requests, here are a few of the highlights, along with my witty commentary:

1. I don't want you to get fucked up every day.

ok, seriously ladies, if your man is drinking an excessive amount, there may be a good reason for it.

2. You will not give me shit for trying to help you.

I smell an intervention coming on....seriously...and its not going to be very fun...

3. You won't openly flirt with anyone.

fair enough! but I can still fuck them, right?

4. You will introduce me to your closer friends.

they are the ones that make me drink as much as I do...I don't know if you'd like them...

5. You will share your stories with me, even if they are censored Mary-Friendly versions, I still want to be a part of your life.

there's no way to make the "dead hooker in Tijuana" story Mary-Friendly, so why bother trying?

6. You will start working out a little more, not that I have a problem with the way you look, but you do, so I want to help you feel better about yourself.

Hmmm... note to self: when trying to get back together with someone, calling them fat in so many words isn't the greatest place to start. I don't care HOW drunk they are...

7. Don't put down my dreams of wanting a family. I will support you no matter what your dreams are, just be supportive of my dreams too.

Another note to self: when getting back together with an exgirlfriend, run like HELL at the first mention of one of if not all of the following words: "family", "baby", "offspring", "seed", "reproduction", "alimony" and/or "restraining order".

Paul's situation is somewhat similar to an experience I went through junior year of college. My girlfriend at the time was very upset with the way things were going, and she decided to let me know of it (via email, of course). Naturally, I printed it out and framed it. Here is an excerpt:

"..you don't have to tell me that you love if you really don't. When I call you, PLEASE call me back, even if you don't want to talk to me. I don't care that you don't have any money, its not important to me. Please don't swing a baseball bat at or near my head, it terrifies me..."

(Ok, before we jump to any conclusions, let me first clarify that last statement. You see, I have a lot of nervous ticks, and I'm never more nervous than during the baseball playoffs. That year, 2001, was the last time my team made the NLCS, so I was very into the games, and very nervous...and as a result, I would half-swing this little wooden bat that I had from little league. It must have struck a nerve. Weeks after getting this email, my roommate Todd was swinging the bat around the apartment when my girlfriend was there. At which point I said, "Hey Erin! Look! Todd is swinging a baseball bat 'at or near your head'! Why don't you send him a lengthy email??" Surprisingly, this did not go over well.)

Now other than the last part, my favorite part of the email is definitely the reference to my financial situation, which, at the time, was mediocre at best. I was literally living off of 15 dollars a week, AND managed to keep a girlfriend happy (relatively speaking). I consider this to be one of my all time top 5 greatest accomplishments, along with winning All State honors senior year of high school, finishing with 250 kills in a multiplayer game of Halo senior year of college, finding Waldo on repeated occasions, and of course not getting suspended or expelled from high school, at any point.

PS: My birthday is today, I'm 26. Party tomorrow, pictures to follow.

Different Strokes for Different Folks

2005-11-30T09:43:00.000-08:00

Settling the argument, once and for all

Many of you are wondering why there has not been a blog update in over 11 days. The reason for this is because I am lazy and unmotivated. Also, I've noticed a discussion thread that has been building from the Quixtar post of 2 weeks ago. It looks as if people that I don't even know are arguing with one another over whether or not Quixtar is a legitimate business practice. Now, I'll overlook the obvious, which is that a lot of people, while seemingly intelligent and passionate, do have a lot of time on their hands. The bottom line is that I started that entire thread with the sole purpose of pissing off Bobby. The links I used were provided to me by Jeff, who had a similar agenda. While I may have stated otherwise, I really don't think Quixtar is a scam. (In fact, if you look closely, I even said that Quixtar does nothing illegal, and some people seem to make money doing it). A wise man once said "different strokes for different folks" (or was that Gary Coleman?), and thats precisely the case in this instance. Why are you all so threatened by people who simply want an opportunity for increased income? Thats all it is, an opportunity, like Bobby said. Now like I stated before, its just not for me, I prefer the more conventional method for my income. My paycheck is consistent, reliable, but probably won't increase anytime soon. If some of these IBO's really wanted to do it, they could increase their income. As I've discovered, some IBO's are fairly comfortable with what they are making, and do not choose to make more. And thats fine. Like I said, diff'rent strokes for diff'rent folks.

Today's Guest Contributor: Matt Helbling

2005-11-18T09:48:00.000-08:00

Since I seem to be devoid of any creativity this week (as is Steve), I decided to steal from a good friend of mine. Matt Helbling has been one of the more influential people in my life, and I don't mean that in a good way. Matt has not only made it his life's work to ensure I would never see a woman naked, he enjoys ridiculing me in public, locking my brother in a dogs cage, not to mention stealing the key to my parents' house so he can shower whenever he's in town on business (they finally were forced to move to a different house entirely to escape his clutches). Needless to say, I have been a pawn in his lifelong devious schemes......and I couldn't be prouder. Here is a classic Helbling article from December of '04:

The Father Bit

One of the things my father argue aboot is politics. It’s a classic situation of youth sort of rebelling against the older generation who is in a position of authority. He is more conservative while I am more on the liberal side, but since we are two reasonable and intelligent adults we were able to come to a compromise on the issue of gay marriage. He presented his views and i presented mine and we came to the conclusion that two men should be allowed to marry one another, just as long as they are both the same race. But I cant fault my father for being conservative because he is a great business man and often conservatives have very sound fiscal policies. let me give you and example of this: when i was younger and i would get in trouble and needed a beating to set me in the right direction, he would outsource it to our Indian neighbor, you know for the tax breaks.I guess I should be proud of the fact that my father and I can have a normal, rational debate over things we disagree aboot. Things used to not be so civil between us and I guess it had something to do with my maturity level. College and fraternity life ingrained in my head a sort of a juvenile philosophy how to win arguments. So whenever my father criticized me the least bit I would also comeback over the top with the only way to win an argument in college. Like one time I was playing in a rec basketball league my father came and said to me after the game, “Nice rebounding today” real sarcastically, I responded with, “Oh yeah, what chicks have you banged lately? Mom? Get out of here!”

On a lighter note....

2005-11-16T12:32:00.000-08:00

This is probably one of the funniest Chuck Norris related items I've seen in some time...
its The Top Thirty Facts about Chuck Norris
courtesy of http://www.4q.cc/

1. Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.
2. Rather than being birthed like a normal child, Chuck Norris instead decided to punch his way out of his mother's womb. Shortly thereafter he grew a beard.
3. Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.
4. Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
5. Chuck Norris once roundhouse kicked someone so hard that his foot broke the speed of light, went back in time, and killed Amelia Earhart while she was flying over the Pacific Ocean.
6. Chuck Norris won 'Jumanji' without ever saying the word. He simply beat the living shit out of everything that was thrown at him, and the game forfeited.
7. Chuck Norris's girlfriend once asked him how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood. He then shouted, "HOW DARE YOU RHYME IN THE PRESENCE OF CHUCK NORRIS!" and ripped out her throat. Holding his girlfriend's bloody throat in his hand he bellowed, "Don't fuck with Chuck!" Two years and five months later he realized the irony of this statement and laughed so hard that anyone within a hundred mile radius of the blast went deaf.
8. Chuck Norris built a time machine and went back in time to stop the JFK assassination. As Oswald shot, Chuck met all three bullets with his beard, deflecting them. JFK's head exploded out of sheer amazement.
9. To prove it isn't that big of a deal to beat cancer. Chuck Norris smoked 15 cartons of cigarettes a day for 2 years and aquired 7 different kinds of cancer only to rid them from his body by flexing for 30 minutes. Beat that, Lance Armstrong.
10. Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.
11. Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.
12. The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.
13. Chuck Norris is not hung like a horse... horses are hung like Chuck Norris
14. Chuck Norris was the fourth Wiseman. He brought baby Jesus the gift of "beard". Jesus wore it proudly to his dying day. The other Wisemen, jealous of Jesus' obvious gift favoritism, used their combined influence to have Chuck omitted from the Bible. Shortly after all three died of roundhouse kick related deaths.
15. When Chuck Norris sends in his taxes, he sends blank forms and includes only a picture of himself, crouched and ready to attack. Chuck Norris has not had to pay taxes ever.
16. If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris you may be only seconds away from death.
17. Chuck Norris lost his virginity before his dad did.
18. Chuck Norris can make a woman climax by simply pointing at her and saying "booya".
19. When Chuck Norris plays Oregon Trail his family does not die from cholera or dysentery, but rather roundhouse kicks to the face. He also requires no wagon, since he carries the oxen, axels, and buffalo meat on his back. He always makes it to Oregon before you.
20. Chuck Norris does not have AIDS but he gives it to people anyway.
21. Chuck Norris recently had the idea to sell his urine as a canned beverage. We know this beverage as Red Bull.
22. After much debate, President Truman decided to drop the atomic bomb on Hiroshima rather than the alternative of sending Chuck Norris. His reasoning? It was more "humane".
23. When Chuck Norris has sex with a man, it is not because he is gay, but because he has run out of women.
24. Chuck Norris once shot a German plane down with his finger, by yelling, "Bang!"
25. One of the greatest cover-ups of the last century was the fact that Hitler did not commit suicide in his bunker, but was in fact tea-bagged to death by Chuck Norris.
26. The original theme song to the Transformers was actually "Chuck Norris--more than meets the eye, Chuck Norris--robot in disguise," and starred Chuck Norris as a Texas Ranger who defended the earth from drug-dealing Decepticons and could turn into a pick-up. This was far too much awesome for a single show, however, so it was divided.
27. Chuck Norris once ate three 72 oz. steaks in one hour. He spent the first 45 minutes having sex with his waitress.
28. Macgyver can build an airplane out of gum and paper clips, but Chuck Norris can kill him and take it.
29. Chuck Norris frequently signs up for beginner karate classes, just so he can "accidentally" beat the shit out of little kids.
30. Filming on location for Walker: Texas Ranger, Chuck Norris brought a stillborn baby lamb back to life by giving it a prolonged beard rub. Shortly after the farm animal sprang back to life and a crowd had gathered, Chuck Norris roundhouse kicked the animal, breaking its neck, to remind the crew once more that Chuck giveth, and the good Chuck, he taketh away

State of the Blog 11/16/05

2005-11-16T10:56:00.000-08:00

Recently, thanks to some angry, bitter, and brainwashed individuals, this blog has taken a negative turn. It is no longer the lighthearted humor that was me and Steve's original vision. The blog has become an area for bold, unsubstantiated generalizations, cheap shots, low blows, ugly people, Scott Baio, etc. And you know what? I kind of like it that way. So keep it coming! There will be an update arriving later today....so stay tuned

Response to idiot, the last one this time, I swear

2005-11-16T10:47:00.000-08:00

bobby said...
You fit all three of those, Mark - angry, bitter and brainwashed. Oh, this is Bobby ... not Jeff or Phil or any of the many other people that take the many shots that you set yourself up for. Thanks for providing the laughs - keep 'em coming.

You know whats really funny about that? You don't even know me. Seriously, you. don't. know. me. See how I spaced my words there to make my point? Even though I'm just repeating myself...but I digress. You worked with me for a few months, then your incompetant ass got canned, and you think because you were "around me" and "associated with me" in the workplace, you think that you know me. Fact is, you've never spent any amount of time with me outside of the workplace. And you never will, because I don't like associating with egotistical blowhards who constantly feel the need to sneak in their last word. "...and here's the kicker, they are willing to teach me how!" You sound like a broken record, its pathetic. If your business is so legit, why do you feel the need to dedicate hours of your time defending it? On a web page that 6 people read, no less. Thats time you could be spending recruiting dropouts!! And obviously, we'll be subjected to another 8 page long rebuttal with the same regurgitated nonsense thats clearly been tossed down the ol' pyramid quite a few times. That train is never late! Cheers!

By Popular Demand...

2005-11-15T10:14:00.000-08:00

Here is a list of people who are better looking than me, according to their rating on HotOrNot.com

No joke, this person was ranked 4.0. That beats my 3.5 by just enough

I'm not sure if it was the man or the elephant, but regardless, they were ranked 5.4, a good 1.9 higher than me!

No mystery here, really. This person was ranked 6.5, and I felt that was selling him short.

My buddy Phil, who I work with, just told me, "now people who've never met you on the internet are going to think you are a nerd that has some sort of complex or something..."

To which I replied, "people that know me already think that"

Borat causing a stir...

2005-11-14T14:06:00.000-08:00

British comedian Sacha Baron-Cohen is apparently upsetting the government in Kazakhstan, with his portrayal of the "Borat from Kazakhstan" character. While this news tidbit is humorous on its own, I found the AP article to be even funnier. Here is an excerpt:

"...Cohen's earlier jokes about the Central Asian state include claims that the people would shoot a dog and then have a party, and that local wine was made from fermented horse urine."

Whats funny is that the writer of this article could have gone with just about any gag of Borat's. Like the time he sang the Kazakhstan national anthem at a minor league baseball game in Georgia, and it lasted 10 minutes long. Or the time he sang the US national anthem at a rodeo in Salem, Virginia (where my parents live) to a chorus of boos after hoping the U.S. kills "every living thing in Iraq, right down to the rodents". But no, much to my delight, the writer went with the horse urine and dog killing gag.

The Consensus: I'm Heinous

2005-11-12T10:16:00.000-08:00

After 2 days and 32 votes, the verdict is in: Mark is heinous. Maybe it was a bad picture, maybe people were attempting to sabotage the vote, but 32 votes is enough to average out any of those variables. So now there is only one thing to do; take it to the streets. Tonight, I'll be going out with an autographed headshot of myself, similar to the one of Scott Baio below, and ask people if I'm a 5, 6, 7 or at the very least, higher than the 3.5 that the internet seems to think. Wish me luck!

2.8??? You gotta be f'n kidding me...

2005-11-11T10:29:00.000-08:00

Ok, I know I'm no Antonio Sabato Jr. or anything, but seriously, 2.8?? I KNOW I'm at LEAST a 6. I feel that I'm the victim of sabotage. Perhaps some former AIU employees that are out to get me.

I know what you are thinking, "you're going with Antonio Sabato Jr. on that one?" and after that you are probably thinking, "you are just being paranoid, you really are heinous."
Well to those of you who rated me a 1......

Am I Hot or Not?

2005-11-10T20:53:00.000-08:00

I spoke with my (other) sister (the married one) tonight, and apparently she's been passing this blog around work, in attempt to quadruple our fan base. While doing so, it came to my attention that some of her coworkers think I'm "hot"

While I've never really considered myself "hot", I'm certainly humbled and complimented by this. However, I feel like this issue should be settled once and for all in a public forum. So I took the liberty of posting my picture on HotOrNot.com

we'll let the internet be the judge, once and for all

http://www.hotornot.com/r/?eid=E8AZBQG&key=TPB

Reponse to comments from "anonymous"

2005-11-10T14:23:00.000-08:00

My oh my, now why are we so defensive?? Its as if you have a list of objections toolbox sitting on your desk. First of all, if you read why I wrote, I don't believe I said one thing that wasn't true. The average IBO in Quixtar makes $115 a month. Misleading? I dont think so...some people don't make anything at all, some people make millions. The people making millions (or even thousands) are few and far between. Hence an average income of $115. This is a fact, and you said so yourself.

"A pyramid scam (generally referred to as a Ponzi scam) is a con where there are no actual products being moved, people are paid for the people that they recruit, and only the guy at the top makes the most money. You know what that sounds like to me, Mark? YOUR JOB"

Yeah, but I suppose the main difference between my job and your job is that my income isn't dependent on how many people I recruit to work underneath me. I'm not saying I wouldn't like to make more money, who wouldn't? But I know exactly what my paycheck is going to be every month, and thats pretty reassuring. I'm just happy I don't have an income thats dependent on whatever fuckup I just recruited buying my cd's and peddling some product.

But again, if you are making money that way, more power to you. I'm only stating MY preference for income.

"Of course, not everyone succeeds in the opportunity - why would you expect that to be the case? How many people are going to end up making six-figures at your job? How many people actually get through college? Most traditional businesses fail within the first 5 years (95-97%.) In fact, since making more than $58K/yr puts you in the top 25% of earners in the nation, how many people actually succeed at any job? I'll take the 30,000+ people that the Quixtar opportunity has helped create an additional $45K/yr+ income on the side, and the over 3,000 self-made millionaires that have been created in that opportunity over the odds of making at a day job any day. "

I dont think that anyone would doubt that starting your own business is statistically the most likely way to become a millionaire. And yes, its true there are plenty of millionaires out there without a degree. Does that mean that college is just a bunch of bullshit? I wouldn't trade my college experience for anything in the world. Best 5 years of my life. I find that the people who are anti-college are the ones that can't hack it in the classroom. But hey, nothing against them, it doesn't make them any less intelligent, college just simply isn't for everyone.

The fact is, those statistics you mentioned are the precise reason WHY people go to college. Starting your own business is risky....thats why people get work for other people's businesses. And, sadly, you need the degree to do that most of the time.

"Where is the manual that explains how many success stories someone needs before they believe something is a success? Or are you content to do research on sites that have editorials from people you don't even know, and have no idea of their motives over visible fruit on the tree? When it comes to research, why don't you send people to real research sites like Dunn and Bradstreet, the Better Business Bureau, and the Federal Trade Commission?"

Better Business Bureau? You're going to go with them? Are you sure? That is one of the most corrupt organizations I've ever had the pleasure of dealing with. I'll spare everyone the details, but long story short, if you are a business owner and someone files a complaint about you with the BBB, simply write them a check, and the complaint will be "satisfied".

"One more thing - I scanned through some of your "research" site, only to find that the business model researched is outdated and underinformed. One of the biggest problems with going to a "research" site is that you don't know the validity of the information. Go to www.walmartsucks.com. Now, are you going to stop going to Wal-Mart? Right. How about typing "Jesus" into google? How many people are going to stop believing after doing some "research?"

Actually? I know PLENTY of people that avoid WalMart like the plague. And yes, I've spoken to people who have reevaluated their faith after doing a little research. Sorry buddy!

Now, obviously I wrote a few things in a previous post that was specifically meant to get under this person's skin (mission accomplished). But it is true that Quixtar does nothing illegal, and I did say that people DO make money, not many obviously, but some people do make a nice living. My statements were nothing more than a precaution to anyone that might be getting a similar sales pitch; do your research, you might work your ass off with this gig, but if the people you recruit underneath you don't work their ass off, you won't make DICK.

Fun with Pyramid Schemes!

2005-11-10T10:00:00.000-08:00

I was talking with a coworker yesterday, (coincidentally, he is former American Idol contestant Michael "I'm not gay" Mercadante), and we were discussing all the worthless job interviews we've been to in the past. As it turns out, we both got suckered into going to the same sales pitch/"job interview". As it turned out, this company (which will remain nameless) was nothing more than a pyramid scheme- designed to take advantage of younger people looking for legitimate jobs. This got me thinking about all the evil pyramid schemes out there that overpromise and underdeliver.

One that I came across is called Quixtar, and my mere mention of their name will probably mean I'll get knocked off in the next couple of days. They fashion themselves as an MLM (Multi Level Marketing) Organization. (Latin for "Pyramid Scheme")

here is a quick link that pretty much sums up Quixtar, Amway, and the others: http://skepdic.com/amway.html

Now it is true that none of these methods are illegal, and it is true that there is no "buy-in" to speak of (unlike some schemes), but a lot of the "success" stories you hear about, like the local high school dropout making 6 figures a month with Quixtar, are few and far between. Truth is, the average monthly income for an Independent Business Owner (IBO) is $115 a month. Minus expenses from all the self help CD's they make you buy. Doesn't sound like its worth it, to me....

Now my intention is not to rip these companies. Hell, if you are making millions doing this, more power to you. This is meant solely as a precaution for anyone that might consider getting into one of these businesses. Do your research first....and make sure you have a hell of a backup plan.
And if that fails...there's always the record contract and millions of dollars you get from winning American Idol.

-Mark

10 Reasons I'm Still Not Married -By Suki

2005-11-07T22:55:00.000-08:00

10. I'm a phytophiliac.

9. Always envisioned a splashy, mass-cult kinda thing, and the comet isn't due back for a WHILE.

8. Holding out for mute billionaire.

7. Could eff up incall prostitution gig.

6. 9/11

5. The tail..

4. Allows me more time to slut around with your boyfriend.

3. There's been some buzz about a possible Messiah nomination..

2. I'm allergic to babies.

1. But mostly, it's that I don't want to be anything other than what I've been trying to be lately.

(Editors note: Ok, raise your hand if you had to look up "phytophiliac"....thats what I thought. Also, if Gavin DeGraw sues us, then I've officially made it)

Finding my sister a husband...

2005-11-06T22:49:00.000-08:00

There was an overwhelming response to my sister's post on Friday, some of it positive, some of it cynical, but the vast majority of readers seemed to agree on one thing: Sue needs a husband, STAT. Unfortunately for Sue, she lives in southwest Virginia, where the men are known more for the worshipping of the holy trinity of Hokies Football, Nascar, and George Dubya, than they are for being chivalrous ladies men.

Well dammit, I lived in Virginia for 6 years, and I believe there is a husband out there for her, somewhere. Where else better to look than the zip code search on Match.com?? Lets take a look at the lucky bachelors...

VTFan78
27-year-old man
Salem, VA, US
Seeking: Women 20-30

I didn't really like my first intro, so I'm hoping this one will be much better. What's Up? Im Andy from the 'Noke. I'm here to meet a nice girl, and maybe more than that. I think of myself as a sweet guy, with just no luck. I always have been timid with ladies in person. Not that it's bad thing because I have some good friends I've met that way. Just my thing. I'm not the hottest guy around, but I think I am cute in my own tall way

I don't know about this guy....but for whatever reason, I get the feeling the words "Warcraft" and "every Saturday night" were left out of his profile....

xthagodfatherx5
25-year-old man
Salem, VA, US
Seeking: Women 18-30

Just Looking
I'm an outgoing person always looking to make someone smile, pretty easy to get along with, enjoy watching movies and going to sporting events. Generally willing to try anything around this boring town til i find something i enjoy.

...which may or may not include KILLING PEOPLE! Seriously, did he bother to ask anyone's advice before posting his picture? Do you think someone actually said, "hey you always looked good in your mug shots! Use the drunk driving May '87 one!"

ok, we're 0 for 2. She'd have better luck at 4H seminar at this point. On to bachelor #3!

DementedlyMetal
26-year-old man
Roanoke, VA, US
Seeking: Women 19-25

I'm a really laid back kind of guy. I've let alot of stuff get to me in my life and I'm finally trying to live my life by letting stuff roll off my back. I'm doing fairly well at that, but if I feel threatened I'm not afraid to speak my mind and let others know I'm not happy

...I can't think of a more lady-friendly, cuddle-by-the-fireplace, gumdrops and puffy clouds username than "DementedlyMetal". He seems like the kind of guy you can get close to...JUST DON'T THREATEN HIM! OR YOU'LL END UP LIKE THE OTHERS!! ROLLED UP IN A CARPET AND FLOATING IN THE ROANOKE RIVER!!

countryboylokng
27-year-old man
Roanoke, VA, US
Seeking: Women 18-35

Hello i'm looking for a lady i can go out have some fun with that i can ejoy her company & she enjoy mine right now i'm really not sure what i'm looking for in a relationship but i would love to meet some lovely ladies & find out from there

Ok, clearly Countryboy is not a fan of punctuation, a sure sign of a man on-the-go. But was he really so busy that he couldn't find an actual camera? Was his Sprint PCS camera-phone (sans flash) really the best he could do? Plus, there is something to be said about a man seeking anyone as young as 18. Come to think of it, this wasn't the first time I came across that...

I think Suki has her work cut out for her! Maybe we'll revisit this again...

Have a great week!

Interesting Sidenote....

2005-11-06T21:28:00.000-08:00

I called my sister on Saturday morning, congratulating her for writing what many considered "brilliant", "sharp", "intelligent", "scathing", and "downright depressing". Unfortunately she had no recollection whatsoever of writing it. Perhaps then the 11th thing she's learned since turning 30.....

DON'T DRINK AND BLOG!

on the other hand, its probably better than anything I've ever written, so maybe she's on to something...

Shit I've Learned Since Turning 30 - by Suki

2005-11-04T12:04:00.000-08:00

(Editors note: Mark's sister has been living in Virginia for the past 2 years. As a result, she has had an extensive amount of experience dwelling at "the other end of the social spectrum". This has given her a perspective on life that is just way too fresh to not to include on this 'Blog)

Shit I've Learned Since Turning 30
1. Dude's with whom you slum are more likely to dump you, just to turn the tables.

2. I *so* hate Angelina Jolie now, and have started to think all organizations with which she is associated are somehow really "homewrecking". I think she has done a lot to halp the spread of AIDS in Africa...(Did I say that out loud???)

3. I wish that all these young girls starving themselves in order to conform to this unrealistic, media-driven "ideal" body type could give me...SOME POINTERS. Damn.

4. Boys these days have no reason to get their shit together because we LIVE WITH THEM w/o being married or even engaged. In the day, a man needed a career/property in order to GET LAID at all.The feminist movement screwed us all into believing in scot-free-slutiness. It don't exist. Let's all buy a vibrator. Last time I checked, it was the more efficient method of the two...

5. Men will always love women with a good car, who feign (or have) at least a moderate interest in sports, and who drink hard liquor. (Ladies, this, the location of the remote, plus the ability to orally please *while watching West Wing* IS ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW)

6. Men have NO IDEA what happens to a woman's body during preganacy / childbearing. You have to educate them the WHOLE TIME, which MUST suck ass b/c I bet you have other damned things to think about.

7. Duh. Butter-flavor Crisco makes the best homemade chocolate-chip cookies.(Substitue 1 cup shortening + 3 tablespoons cold water for butter in recipe)

8. NEVER humiliate a man in public, even if he deserves it. He will later kill you.

9. If candlewax drips onto the carpet, place paper towels over the wax and then iron it @ medium heat. The wax will liquify & absorb into the paper towels.

10. EACH and EVERY woman has a completely unique way for reaching orgasm. Even if 'your' method worked AWESOME w/ your last girlfriend, you will have to RELEARN with EACH WOMAN. There's no ONE WAY. Got it? Good. There. Chew on that, you smug, firm-breasted twenty-somethings.

I got CARDED tonight. CARDED!!

I rule,
-Suki

The Great Giambino- the "Comeback Kid"?

2005-11-04T10:07:00.000-08:00

(Editors note: Steve Huffman, who has been living with Mark for a year and half now, recently discovered that he is dead inside. Because of this, he would make the perfect featured columnist. As he stated yesterday, "...I think with our combined wit, tendencies toward overanalysis, and general lack of ambition for anything that requires much more effort or money, we could turn this into the world wide web's next great bastion of pontifficating. Now, if only I wasn't the 103,459th person to think that, we really would be onto something. ")

As I was browsing ESPN.com, I caught a headline out of the corner of my eye that began with the phrase, “Comeback Kid…” Now, surely this must have been an article about Joe Montana, right? I mean, after all, Montana is the rightful owner of the nickname, “Comeback Kid”. And surely ESPN wouldn’t disrespect such a hallowed great as Joe Montana by applying his nickname to a less deserving candidate, right? And if they did, surely they would only apply it to some courageous athlete who overcame a debilitating disease or some horrible hardship to pull off an odds-defying return to the top that A&E will inevitably make a movie about starring Barry Pepper, right?
Nope. The article was about Jason @%#!@#ing Giambi. Yeah. In case you hadn’t heard, MLB fans recently awarded this cheater the “American League Comeback Player of the Year Award”. In a related story, the world just awarded the “American League Comeback Player of the Year Award” the “Award That Suddenly Holds the Least Legitimate Significance Award”. And, in case you’ve been paying even less attention to baseball than the average disgruntled fan, the reason Giambi had to make a “comeback” is because he admitted to using illegal steroids. To which everyone reacted with a similar look as when my cousin Mikey told us that he had a crush on Keri Webb. “Oh, really Mikey? We thought you were just… really…protective of her…or something.” “Oh, really, Giambi? We thought you just lifted a lot. And…drank…milk. It does a body good, you know.”
That’s not the worst part. I haven’t even told you what the entire headline said: “Comeback Kid: Giambi signs deal with Reebok”. That’s right. He’s not the Comeback Kid because he cheated, used illegal drugs, desecrated the game the same way scores of other players have, but then admitted to it, “rehabbed”, and eventually learned to play the game the way that honest, hard working athletes are supposed to; he’s the Comeback Kid because, that’s right, his act of contrition has now landed him an endorsement with Reebok.
The article begins with a sob story about how Giambi “had hit rock bottom.” About how admitting to steroid use lost him his endorsements with Pepsi and Arm & Hammer. This kind of reminds of the South Park episode in which Kyle and Stan claim that downloading music for free is no big deal, to which the overbearing interrogator replies, “NO BIG DEAL?!” then proceeds to take them on a Christmas Carol-esque tour of wealthy celebrity musicians who, due to people downloading their music for free, had to buy the slightly smaller private jet, or wait a few more months to have the thousand gallon shark tank installed in the middle of their private swimming pool.
Now, look. I’ll bet you think this is going to be a rant about how much faith I’ve lost in Major League Baseball and the fact that the game has held no credibility since 1998 when MLB pretended they didn’t know McGwire and Sosa were using illegal drugs simply because they were bringing disgruntled fans back to the ballpark after the ’94 strike. Or that if Pete Rose doesn’t belong in the Hall of Fame because he dishonestly and illegally affected the outcome of games, then neither does anyone who ever played on steroids because they also dishonestly and illegally affected the outcome of games. Or that if a record stands for thirty-six years and then is suddenly shattered five times by three different people within four seasons, then there’s probably something else going on here…
But you’re wrong. My point is simple. If you want to strip the game of all its integrity by allowing obvious illegal drug use to run rampant for years and only put a stop to it finally because the U.S. FREAKING GOVERNMENT steps in, then fine. I’m a grownup. I’ll get over it. I started getting over it in the summer of 2001 when Bud Selig ended the All Star Game in a tie and it became apparent to me that MLB didn’t care about baseball any more, so why should I? But don’t try to act like someone who has just now, on the backside of his career, decided to start playing the game by the same rules as everyone else is the “Comeback Player of the Year”.
And, at the very least, please, for the love of God, and the love of everything that is decent, don’t defile a nickname held by such a legend as Joe Montana by applying it to an unlikable, unforgivable cheater such as….him. And this is coming from a lifetime Cincinnati Bengals fan who had his heart broken at the tender age of seven by a Montana touchdown pass late in the fourth quarter of…well, a game I don’t like to talk about. Mr. Montana, allow me to apologize on the behalf of those who should.

-Steve Huffman

Just had to share this....

2005-11-03T15:05:00.000-08:00

Check out the comment on the "5 Areas..." post:

31 and Retired Said:
"Has anyone noticed that Areas 1, 3, 4, and 5 of Mark's Expertise all relate to why #2 is on the list?"

Well, you have that backwards, (I think my social awkwardness drove me to pay ridiculous attention to detail, and have a near abnormal memory, which resulted in areas 1, 3, 4 and 5....rather than 1, 3, 4 and 5 having had anything to do with my social awkwardness). But really, I think this guy hit the nail on the head. Couldn't have said it any better! I guess thats why you are retired at age 31....you must be doing something right. Wait a sec....31? Retired? I think I know who you are!!
Come on, AC, you can't bullshit a bullshitter.

NHL Coaching Legend Can't Read

2005-11-03T12:26:00.000-08:00

I opened ESPN.com today to find this headline. "Jacques Demers, former Canadiens head coach admits he's illiterate." Does it not sound just like an Onion article? I can't even begin to describe how embarrassing this is for hockey fans. Its already embarrassing enough to be a hockey fan, and now I have to deal with the fact that the last time my favorite team won the Stanley Cup, it was with an illiterate head coach.

Its like finding out that Scott Baio was gay all these years. How can this be?

Unfortunately, now that I think about it, one needs to have a wide variety of skills in order to be a successful head coach in any sport, but (especially in hockey) I can't imagine reading is one of them. Seriously though, this is probably the last thing the NHL needs at this point. From the season cancellation last year, to barely any televised games this year, the league is struggling to find new fans. Does anyone else think this is a marketing ploy to win over some of the red states? Whats next? Are the St. Louis Blues going to be renamed the Natty Icers?

5 Areas of Expertise, the "Jeremy" theory, and more...

2005-11-03T00:15:00.000-08:00

Amy recently referenced a conversation we had earlier this week on her blog. It had to do with the now infamous "5 Areas of Expertise". You see, it is my theory that every human being has 5 traits or abilities where they seem to hold an unusual or preternatural superiority over other human beings. Usually, these things are unique, sometimes not. Sometimes they are really funny, and sometimes they make you want to cry.
Before I go any further, its only fair that I list my 5 Areas of Expertise:

1. baseball statistics (post 1991)
2. social awkwardness
3. one-liners from popular comedies
4. “Saved by the Bell” episodes
5. Broad Generalizations

That #5 was actually changed. On Amy's blog, its listed as "Jeremies", which is a reference to another theory, which I will explain. But Steve (my roommate) and I agreed that making broad generalizations about other people seems to be something that I've become quite good at. What can I say, practice makes perfect.

Now I'd like to explain both the principles behind the "5 areas of expertise", and also explain the "Jeremy" theory.

Ok, so first off, I can't take credit for the "5 areas" theory, its actually a ripoff of the "5 Dream Jeopardy Categories" from the Douglas Coupland novel "Microserfs". I thought it was brilliant, so, much like anything else I find brilliant...I altered it slightly and passed it off as my own. The 5 areas of expertise made a comeback this summer when my rotund roommate John "Deemo" Nicodemo was on a blind date, and took me and my friend Richie with him to Wrigley Field. We had to find his five areas of expertise, and constantly bring them up casually in conversation, to eliminate any awkward silences. Needless to say, he got some.

Ok, and now about the whole "Jeremy" theory. This came from my years of experience with individuals named Jeremy. Its not that I hate all people named Jeremy, its just that, if you are named "Jeremy" you are exponentially more likely to be one, if not all, of the following:
1. A giant douchebag**
2. That Guy that bags your girlfriend
3. That Guy that bagged your girlfriend, and you found out about it a year later on Spring Break, and it ruined the whole week for you.
4. Wears shiny shirts to clubs
5. Having a generally amicable charm that wears off in about a week like one of those lick-on tatoos.

**please note that a "Jeremy" is different from a "Brian", a Brian is generally a meathead fratboy

In case you haven't guessed already, both me and Steve (my roommate) have had less than favorable experiences with Jeremies. I have been foiled by many a Jeremy in the last 6 months alone.

I know what you are thinking, "but I know a Jeremy, he is so sweet!" But are you aware that Jeremy just screwed your little sister? AND he gave her crabs! THATS WHAT JEREMY DOES!

Now feel free to use the term Jeremy in your own everyday conversation. For example:

"Luke from the OC was a total Jeremy in season one, then once we got to know him a little bit, he turned out to be pretty cool!"

Doesn't it make you feel so much better to make a broad generalization? I know NOW you are thinking, "....come to think of it, Jeremy did kinda suck", or "...I bet Jeremy would be much happier if he came out of the closet already"

The Last Horse Finally Crosses the Finish Line....

2005-11-02T21:07:00.000-08:00

In keeping with my reputation of being at least one year late on every phenomenon, I finally decided to create my own blog. The plethora of things that piss me off on a daily basis has finally reached its limit, and I need an outlet to vent. Since most of the people reading this probably know me (at least by name), then most of the following posts will more than likely be regurgitated rants from 6 months ago, and I'm hoping you forgot about it. For those of you that somehow stumbled upon this, and decided to keep reading....you probably have never seen a woman naked, and I feel very sorry for you. Enjoy kids!

-Mark S.