“As perhaps you can imagine, there is something to offend everyone in this film and induce headaches or nausea in people susceptible to such things. Plus no kid should be allowed to see it, ever.”
This makes me want to see “Crank: High Voltage” even more. How low have my/our standards fallen? I’m surprisingly blank whenever I sit down to write on this thing. I don’t know what exactly, but for once in my life, I don’t know what to say.
Things are good though, very good.
I can’t believe March is finished. It feels like it just got started.
Anyways, I just purchased my flight to St. Louis so everything is officially set for Europe. All we have to do is finish is our itinerary but that’s something that’s reasonably flexible and can be adjusted when we get there. Jameson and I just picked our seats next to each other for both the flight there and on the way back. It’s not only a relief to sit next to someone you know for an eight and half hour flight, it’s nice to know that none of that time will be spent next to someone who smells or is too fat to fit in the tiny seat and spills over into yours. I can only think of a few worse fates than that.
This is really going to happen. I have the credit card bill to prove it.
I really, really miss Mike. I got to talk to him briefly on Saturday while I was at the Farmer’s market with the gang. He’s just doing his time but it’s a relief to know he’s still alive and relatively well.
Then yesterday I got this postcard from him along with a Jagermaester key chain and my spirits were lifted immensely:
I don't know if I should laugh or cry.
On the back it says he will “see me before the next school year starts.” That time can’t come soon enough.
I shot a one over par, 37 on the front nine at the Plantation golf course on Saturday morning. For those of you who don’t know golf very well, nor care, it was a front round of a lifetime and is one that has me hooked on golf for the immediate future. I realized the potential I have to be a very, very good golfer and I’m going to work and try and try to do that on a consistent basis.
The trip was re energizing though, work today was far less annoying than Sunday’s usually are. The customers complained but I didn’t mind as much and the day flew by as I spent it mostly texting insults to Evan in preparation for our draft that just occurred. I’m so ready for baseball to start.
I got some Tres Generations Anejo tequila that is so good that when you drink it you will see God. It’s smooth as silk and warms your stomach rather than burning it. I can’t wait to share it on a crazy weekend trip…perhaps to Austin next week?
I read another book on vacation that I enjoyed a great deal but I don’t have a the energy to write up a thorough review of it right now. I’m read nine books comprising 2442 pages since January 1st. I don’t know what I’m going to read next but I need to figure it out pretty soon.
It’s amazing how quickly a week goes by! Happy St. Patrick’s Day…I celebrated this national drinking holiday by wearing orange and packing for my trip to the valley. Not exactly what I had in mind but 3.5 days of sun, golf, and beer should do wonders for my happiness level.
It’s for certain we’re going to Europe, specifically starting in Barcelona and from there, who knows? It’s going to be quite the journey and the opportunity to plan such an adventure 2 months in advance delights me in a way very few things can.
I haven’t run in two weeks because of a pulled muscle in my butt from softball. I feel lethargic.
18 days till baseball starts, I cannot flipping wait!
I was flipping through my facebook pictures tonight because I was bored and I realized that, through the years, I have many different faces of drunk. Come my friends, let’s take a look at the many faces of inebriation.
If I remember correctly, it was my sophomore year(2004) when we first got the real facebook and so any pictures from my freshman year do not exist. And let’s be honest, if there were any, they wouldn’t have been any good.
This little gem is from New Year’s 2004. The beginning of 2004 is when I got to bond with Des and her little, Megan. How I love them for showing me not only how to throw a good party, but how to have fun at one!
New Year's 2004
Big sunglasses and a stripper bowtie are not normally things I would don under sober circumstances.
The summer of 2005 was delightful because I got to go to beautiful San Diego with Charlie to watch Mike get hitched. We were mostly responsible while we were there but one night sticks out in particular. Mike was in the army at that time, and so went on base and bought some cheap liquor from Camp Pendleton and proceeded to drink it heavily before our dinner with Mike and Janet’s family. This picture was taken on the way to said dinner where we drank even more and after which we came back to our hotel and drank until I ended up on a heap on the floor. Oh lord, as Charlie can attest, it was an interesting night.
This is a face you'll see again.
Our next entry is from the ADP formal dance thing from our senior year. I was Myla’s date and after prepartying with her before the engagement, we got to the place and proceeded to inhale our two bottles of wine that was supposed to serve as our refreshments for the evening. I was feeling pretty good about myself until Des lured me into the parking lot to drink more with her from her secret stash in her trunk. One of my last clear thoughts from this evening was taking a bottle of vanilla flavored SKY Vodka and chugging it straight from the bottle. Sadness followed shortly thereafter. However, in her trunk was this amazing hat that I wore for quite some time much to my own amusement. Despite this, the night did not end well.
You know you're drunk when you put on a straw hat
When your best friend tags you in a picture with a caption that says, “I don’t remember this,” it’s a pretty good sign that not only was she intoxicated, but you were as well. This next one is from Geno’s stoplight party that he threw which involved some serious games of flip cup that was ultimately both mine and Jessica’s downfall. I know this is from my senior year because I’m actually chubby in this picture from a season inactivity, drinking heavily, and eating Chipotle two times a day.
Three mult-colored straws in your mouth = drunk
Naturally, this journey would not be complete without a spring break picture. Luckily for me, a large group of us traveled to South Padre Island for Spring Break 2007 and enjoyed thunderstorms, power hours, peel and eat shrimp, and drunkenness. Once again, Jessica is my sidekick in this picture. If I remember correctly, she was no where near as drunk as me and this is indicated by the fact that I am clearly grasping for an alcoholic drink without any clear awareness of my surroundings. As a side note, I just remembered that this was the bar where Jessica was selected to be the judge of a bikini contest! So not fair!
Lusting after the drink
As we move into my post graduate drinking days, this next picture made me realize that it was the only time I had ever involved shaving cream and alcohol. The two have such enormous entertainment value that I’m surprised I haven’t combined the two before. If you’re good at picking up on context clues, this was Charlie’s 23rd birthday celebration at his apartment. We barbecued and drank all night and I don’t know why, but I busted out my can of shaving cream and it never seemed to run out. We ended up in Charlie’s community pool around 4:30 in the morning to wash it all off. There was a thin white foam on the surface of the pool after we were done.
If you're drunk and you know it, clap your hands...
When you go to a wedding, I expect there to be booze. However, at Jeremy’s wedding, there wasn’t a drop. So Big Dan and I behaved until after the wedding when we found a pub called Fox and the Hound. We then decided to celebrate and drink for every single person at that wedding and got completely shit canned. It was the first and only time I have ever racked up a $100 dollar tab between just two people. The flight home the next morning was not a lot of fun.
The eyes give it away.
I’m going to conclude with an image that is not the next one in chronological order but one I feel I will never top. In terms of sheer stupid drunkenness, captured in a still image, there is no comparison. This was the night of my 23rd birthday and on sixth street, along with Katie, Jessica, and Geno, I drank myself stupid with free birthday shots and beers. I dare anyone to top this picture. It is the essence of drunk, the quintessential statue of inebriation. And so, without further adieu, I give you the #1 all-time drunk Danimal picture:
Perfection
I just got done playing in the only softball game I will be able to attend with the men’s league from my church this season, and I must say, I’m thinking about changing my name to Barry.
I found out I would be batting third (eek!) which meant our coach had what I felt was some misplaced faith in me (I haven’t swung a bat in almost six months). My first at bat I watched the first three balls go by in an effort to reacquaint myself with the rhythm the pitcher and to remember how to hit a softball. It’s much, much different from hitting a baseball-you have to wait…and wait…and wait…wait some more…and then swing. It’s hard to do!When I finally did swing, I hit this looping pop fly that managed to land in front of the right fielder for a base hit. It wasn’t pretty, but it wasn’t an out.
Two innings later, I was up again. I remember watching the first pitch go by and then waiting on the second one. On the third pitch, I reared back and then absolutely cranked one high and deep to right field. The wind was blowing out tonight and the ball just kept on sailing and soaring through the night until it fell right over the right fielder’s head. There was another young’un on first base and as I closed the distance on him, I yelled, “WE’RE RUNNING, BABY!” And we were off to the races.
I saw the ball roll to the fence but after that, I turned on the jets and raced my way around the bases, lunging for home and touching it a few steps behind the guy in front of me and well ahead of the incoming throw. It was my second career (albeit they were both inside-the-park) homerun and my goodness, is it an awesome feeling to have everyone of your teammates come out of the dugout to high-five and congratulate you on your way in. I enjoyed the moment completley.
We ended up winning 22-9, I grounded out weakly my next at bat and smoked a single in my last but it will be a while before I forget about that shot I hit to right field. It may have been the wind or a misplay by the fielder, but dammit, I hit the shit out of that ball and I’m going to be happy about it!
Watch out Barry, only 760 more to go!
I have thought long and hard about the many, many books I have read over the years and I don’t think I’ve ever read anything that I can say is authentically western.
And so, after the finishing the amazing, awe-inspiring, 1776, my mom recommended I give a Larry McMurtry (Lonesome Dove) novel a try called, Leaving Cheyenne. It’s about a love triangle between two best friends, Gid and Johnny, who are constantly pursuing the affections of Molly through generations. Apparently it’s told from the point of view of all three characters through the course of some forty odd years but I have not yet made it past the first section.
It’s a lighthearted book and McMurtry writes in very accessible prose. I have zero experience as a teenage ranch hand but through Gid’s words I can see the ranch and his goodnatured but infuriating father. I can feel the jealousy he experiences when Johnny gets Molly alone in a voting booth. It’s simple writing but the dialogue and prose make it very engaging and authentic.
The first four sentences of the novel are an example of terrific writing. We learn so much about the narrator in four succinct, memorable, and efficient sentences:
When I woke up Dad was standing by the bed shaking my foot. I opened my eyes, but he never stopped shaking it. He shook it like it was a fence post and he was testing it to see if it was in the ground solid enough. All my life that’s the way he’d wake me up-I hated it like poison.
We learn so much about Gid without having to be told much of anything. It’s clearly established that the relationship between father and son is tenuous at best and that it will clearly influence the narrator throughout the story.
It’d be really easy to just write that Gid and his father didn’t see eye to eye on things and that Gid was resentful of his father because of it. However, in 64 words, McMurtry has given us an example of this relationship that is far more concrete and lasting than what 500 words could say about it. He has shown us the relationship rather than telling us about it. It’s things like this that separates the men from the boys.
Further, I find the simile of his dad shaking his foot like a fence post to be almost perfect. Can’t you imagine this clearly? Can’t you see someone doing it to you? Can’t you see your foot shaking back and forth just so, testing the strength of the post in the ground?
It’s masterful writing and I love it.
Think back to when you were ten. What grade were you in? What kind of things did you like to do? What did you want to be when you grew up?
If I remember clearly, I was in Garden City, Kansas finishing up my 4th grade of elementary school. I enjoyed reading Goosebumps by R.L. Stein, collecting Pogs but having no real idea what to do with them, and being a fiercely competitive recreation soccer player. I enjoyed playing B.O.B. on my Sega Genesis.
I had dreams of being an airline pilot or possibly a writer. I thought very little of the world around me. Women were suddenly becoming more interesting and the only expectations I remember having were to come home promptly and to stay out of trouble at school.
Now, instead of 1994, let’s pretend it’s 1777 and look at the expectations a mother had of her 10 year old son:
You are in possession of a natural good understanding and of spirits unbroken by adversity, and untamed with care. Improve your understanding for acquiring useful knowledge and virtue, such as will render you an ornament to society, an honor to your country, and a blessing to your parents…and remember you are accountable to your Maker for all your words and actions.
This was an excerpt from a letter Abigail Adams wrote to her 10 year old son, John Quincy, before he left with his father to cross the Atlantic to keep his father company as he negotiated with France.
Are you kidding me? Could you imagine being interrupted by your mom while playing Playstation and being told travel across the ocean to a foriegn country in order to acquire useful knowledge that would enable you to become an ornament to society? Could you even begin to understand what was being asked of you at such a young age? Could you internalize it? Strive for it? Could you handle such lofty expectations?
Obviously, he could as he went on to not only be President, but one of our most experienced and respected diplomats in the history of our country. We owe a great deal to Abigail and her high standards. (As a side note, she is a woman of such impeccable character and remarkable intelligence that if I have a daughter one day, I want to name her Abigail).
Maybe we could all stand to adjust the expectations we have of our children and ourselves. Who knows what good could come from it?
The New Beligum Brewing Company is the same company that has brought “Fat Tire” onto this great earth. I love, love, love, Fat Tire and decided to give another one of their incarnations a shot. I figured that since it is February, I’d go with a winter themed beer (even though it was 75 degrees here today).
The beer is brewed in Ft. Collins Colorado and claims to be a “warming blast of Sterling and Liberty hops along with tawny roasted malts. By pushing our beer 2 degrees BELOW into a final, nearly freezing state, its ample structure develops a brilliant clarity.” Indeed the beer is what you’d expect from an ale, a nice rich amber color that pours very smoothly and settles quickly. I hope it can compete with Fat Tire.
A frosty beer from the makers of Fat Tire
The initial taste is very good. It’s a nice hoppy bitterness that isn’t overpowering. It’s a beer that tastes like a beer, something I’m always searching for and referencing. There’s good body to it and the advertised malts (which I have learned make a beer sweeter) definitely softens the flavor and leaves you with a very smooth and tasty brew.
The more I drink of it, the more I’m loving how smooth and delicious it is. It’s not an exotic flavor but that’s what makes it so good. There’s something familiar about the body and taste of the beer but I can’t say exactly what it is. It’s distinct enough to stand apart from any old recycled domestic beer but isn’t so different that you wouldn’t want to drink it often. It’s also relatively light and you could drink a couple of them without wanting to burst.
Overall, I must commend the New Belgium Brewing company, they have produced a stellar companion to Fat Tire and I most certainly give this beer my seal of approval and recommendation. Regardless of your beer drinking experience and preference, I’d be surprised to hear you say didn’t like this one.
Cheers!
I can’t believe how entertained I was tonight by America’s Funniest Home Videos. I was near tears for the better part of thirty minutes watching America’s finest stumble, fall, kick, flail, and drop their ways into my heart. Both the young and old relentlessly pummeled my gut with hearty and satisfying laughs. I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard since Balderdash and I was by myself for crying out loud.
I know the host is a bit of a gomer but despite of this, the show has found a series recording (an honor reserved for the likes of Burn Notice and ER) space on my DVR list.
I haven’t left that hard nor felt this good in a while. I just feel relaxed and in a strange way purified. I do love to laugh and haven’t done enough of it lately. I’ll leave you with this segment which was on tonight. If this doesn’t make you at least chuckle a bit, you need to lighten up.
