Catchy title I know. I felt the need to weigh in on the 'dirty hit' in yesterday's Jets game. I didn't see it until on replay this morning but I don't think it was malicious. Look at it again if you can (try espn.com). The first guy hits Boldin from behind when the second guy launches himself toward Boldin's downfield shoulder (where the ball was). Because of the hit, Boldin is propelled forward and that's when the helmet to helmet contact occurs.
I'm not going to defend the Jet DBs decision to launch himself. That was just a bad idea from jump street. (I learned that from 'Playmakers'.) But he did try to put himself on Boldin's outside shoulder and break up the catch. So let's not all rush to judgement that this is the new Kermit Washington. This was a guy who was playing hard trying to play through the final whistle. He was a tad miguided in his efforts.
Get well AB...
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Deportes
Fuck baseball. I've said it before and I'll say it time and again. It's archaic, stagnant, racist and run by fucking renobs. 'Baseball people' talk about how great the game is. And you say fuck it cuz you don't understand it. No I say fuck it cuz I do understand it. Except for the fucking infield fly rule.
My big beef now is the regular season. You play 162 games. Figure out the fucking thing by like Labor Day. Leave me one or two races and tie the shit up by the 15th. After that, we all go just cuz we like hot dogs and it's fun sitting outside at night in September.
161 games and you haven't figured out who's in and who's out? Fuck the Brewers, the White Sox, Twins and double fuck the Mets. After last year's collapse they should be relegated to the JV with Pittsburgh, KC, Fla, Montreal (what do you mean they're not there anymore?). Now this year, they've built up all this hope. They won a squeaker the other night when they were down and out 6-3 in the 7th. And all it's doing for me is to cause DJ to bitch more when they ultimately fail. (If a pro sports team is from NY and sounds like Ets, they're going to let down everyone who roots for me.)
The only thing I'm waiting for is to go and cop a nice new Dodgers cap and root root root for Torre like any good Yankees fan should. I'll even enjoy Manny being Manny. I'll pull for the Angels cuz Arte Moreno seems like a good dude and I secretly hope he doesn't think that $25M a year is too much for Blow Job - I mean A-Rod. I'm behind Milwaukee + Minnie cuz they have a dome. Baseball shouldn't be played outside in wintry conditions. All World Series game should be played in tropical places, starting no later than 7PM on a weekday and 4PM on a week end.
I'm soooo glad this season is over. I'm just ecstatic that football is in swing, the Knicks are bringing Marbury into camp - please no Allen Houston, please - hockey is starting which means I have a place to go watch white people do funny things. All in all, I love the fall/winter sports cycle. Go Guins. Go Knicks. Here we go Steelers, here we go...
PS - In case you were wondering. Yes, I did lose in my money rotisserie league...
My big beef now is the regular season. You play 162 games. Figure out the fucking thing by like Labor Day. Leave me one or two races and tie the shit up by the 15th. After that, we all go just cuz we like hot dogs and it's fun sitting outside at night in September.
161 games and you haven't figured out who's in and who's out? Fuck the Brewers, the White Sox, Twins and double fuck the Mets. After last year's collapse they should be relegated to the JV with Pittsburgh, KC, Fla, Montreal (what do you mean they're not there anymore?). Now this year, they've built up all this hope. They won a squeaker the other night when they were down and out 6-3 in the 7th. And all it's doing for me is to cause DJ to bitch more when they ultimately fail. (If a pro sports team is from NY and sounds like Ets, they're going to let down everyone who roots for me.)
The only thing I'm waiting for is to go and cop a nice new Dodgers cap and root root root for Torre like any good Yankees fan should. I'll even enjoy Manny being Manny. I'll pull for the Angels cuz Arte Moreno seems like a good dude and I secretly hope he doesn't think that $25M a year is too much for Blow Job - I mean A-Rod. I'm behind Milwaukee + Minnie cuz they have a dome. Baseball shouldn't be played outside in wintry conditions. All World Series game should be played in tropical places, starting no later than 7PM on a weekday and 4PM on a week end.
I'm soooo glad this season is over. I'm just ecstatic that football is in swing, the Knicks are bringing Marbury into camp - please no Allen Houston, please - hockey is starting which means I have a place to go watch white people do funny things. All in all, I love the fall/winter sports cycle. Go Guins. Go Knicks. Here we go Steelers, here we go...
PS - In case you were wondering. Yes, I did lose in my money rotisserie league...
Monday, September 1, 2008
How do you say my love in Spanish?
...Mi Amor. How do you say my love in thug? Can I hit it raw???? Thanks Angie. Thanks Jay...
Well, I've been meaning to post something for a few days. On Friday I turned 25. I was pretty amped that morning and had a great idea for a posting with a self-written horoscope. The whole 'today is the first day of the rest of your life' thing. About how I can make everyday better than the last and turn it all into a veritable world about me. Though I never got to sit down that day to bang that one out.
We went out on Friday night and Amor put together this amazing meal with all my friends including some that I've made through her. Then we went to a bar and I got ridiculously drizznunk. I'm told I had a great time - alas I cannot fully recall...
Saturday I slept until 2:30 in the afternoon mainly because I was still drunk all morning. I started getting hungover right around the time we arrived at the restaurant Amor had set up for us to dine, just the two of us. I feel bad about this cuz I've been dying to eat there. But the whole time I was just focusing on NOT vomiting. It was so bad that I was gagging tryna down some agua. I didn't feel better til I had a nice big BM in their wonderfully crafted minimalist bathroom.
Sunday started with my fantasy football draft. Then turned into a day of running around as we were yet to decide what we were doing for Labor Day. The options in front of us were go to AC, go to Great Adventure, go to the Shore to visit the Angry Guy, go to the local Sleep Eazy motel for some us time or just stay in. AC was ousted because she was geting out of work too late. Great Adventure just felt like a giant waste of money - not to say that gambling isn't either... Shore was out because I'm fat. We chose the Sleep Eazy and a good time was had by all. We made fondu and read classical literature.
Today was waking at the telly. Then the world's longest breakfast at Perkin's. She had the idea for us to have a cook out at 4, but agreed to go to her brother's at 2, so we pushed our plans to 5. No one showed there until 3 so we didn't get back to our BBQ until 5:15. No one was there yet, or responding to calls/texting. She began to fret that no one was coming and wasn't calling to cancel. Well, one called to say he was caught up with some family ish. Another (finally) replied to the first message and said he wasn't coming. The other 2 were MIA and the last one had announced he wouldn't be there til 6 anyway. Well those last 3 all showed at one time, because they all drove together. So we got the show on the road around 6. We gestated and delved into a conversation on religion and personal beliefs/group think mob mentality. It was quite rousing and stimulating all at the same time. I briefly felt it necessary to excuse myself to change my shorts.
Here I sit now. Exhausted from my insane weekend of fun and pleasure. All of it planned by the most beautiful, thoughtful, amazing woman I could ever imagine. An angel of mine own planted here just for me. Ah, redundancy. Well mi Amor commented that I never mentioned my wonderful birthday to the fellaz before, during or after our draft Sunday morning. So I felt it appropriate to take this time here to tell you about the weekend I had. Thanks Amor.
Well, I've been meaning to post something for a few days. On Friday I turned 25. I was pretty amped that morning and had a great idea for a posting with a self-written horoscope. The whole 'today is the first day of the rest of your life' thing. About how I can make everyday better than the last and turn it all into a veritable world about me. Though I never got to sit down that day to bang that one out.
We went out on Friday night and Amor put together this amazing meal with all my friends including some that I've made through her. Then we went to a bar and I got ridiculously drizznunk. I'm told I had a great time - alas I cannot fully recall...
Saturday I slept until 2:30 in the afternoon mainly because I was still drunk all morning. I started getting hungover right around the time we arrived at the restaurant Amor had set up for us to dine, just the two of us. I feel bad about this cuz I've been dying to eat there. But the whole time I was just focusing on NOT vomiting. It was so bad that I was gagging tryna down some agua. I didn't feel better til I had a nice big BM in their wonderfully crafted minimalist bathroom.
Sunday started with my fantasy football draft. Then turned into a day of running around as we were yet to decide what we were doing for Labor Day. The options in front of us were go to AC, go to Great Adventure, go to the Shore to visit the Angry Guy, go to the local Sleep Eazy motel for some us time or just stay in. AC was ousted because she was geting out of work too late. Great Adventure just felt like a giant waste of money - not to say that gambling isn't either... Shore was out because I'm fat. We chose the Sleep Eazy and a good time was had by all. We made fondu and read classical literature.
Today was waking at the telly. Then the world's longest breakfast at Perkin's. She had the idea for us to have a cook out at 4, but agreed to go to her brother's at 2, so we pushed our plans to 5. No one showed there until 3 so we didn't get back to our BBQ until 5:15. No one was there yet, or responding to calls/texting. She began to fret that no one was coming and wasn't calling to cancel. Well, one called to say he was caught up with some family ish. Another (finally) replied to the first message and said he wasn't coming. The other 2 were MIA and the last one had announced he wouldn't be there til 6 anyway. Well those last 3 all showed at one time, because they all drove together. So we got the show on the road around 6. We gestated and delved into a conversation on religion and personal beliefs/group think mob mentality. It was quite rousing and stimulating all at the same time. I briefly felt it necessary to excuse myself to change my shorts.
Here I sit now. Exhausted from my insane weekend of fun and pleasure. All of it planned by the most beautiful, thoughtful, amazing woman I could ever imagine. An angel of mine own planted here just for me. Ah, redundancy. Well mi Amor commented that I never mentioned my wonderful birthday to the fellaz before, during or after our draft Sunday morning. So I felt it appropriate to take this time here to tell you about the weekend I had. Thanks Amor.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Twe, get the brooms....
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold on a mother fucking minute. Fred Durst, former Limp Dilznik front man just directed the new Ice Cube movie? Are you fucking kididng me? I thought the 'Are we...yet' series was bad enough. But...seriously? Dred Furst?
I suppose Kiss was speaking only of Right Coast cats when he said Gangsters don't die - they get chubby and move to Miami. Is Cube really doing a movie with the biggest tool NOT named Gay Aikman? Horseshit! Mierda! I guess the Predator really is dead. Today is not a good day...
I suppose Kiss was speaking only of Right Coast cats when he said Gangsters don't die - they get chubby and move to Miami. Is Cube really doing a movie with the biggest tool NOT named Gay Aikman? Horseshit! Mierda! I guess the Predator really is dead. Today is not a good day...
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Reflectional morningSTAR....
For some odd reason, I’m feeling very nostalgic at this point. I don’t know if it’s my pending 25th berfday or something else. Right now though I’m thinking about my family and the state we’re in.
See, this past summer, the baby of the family graduated from high school. Good, great, grand. But go back and read that first sentence. The baby graduated. I speak not in shock of her graduation. But of the fact that the baby is done. I mean, these people have had an impact on our collective lives since 1987.
I can’t recall my first day of kindergarten in the late summer of that year. But I do remember some of the next few years on the playground at E-Town Elementary. I remember the jump ropes. I remember the games of tag. I remember the days we were give footballs to toss around. I remember the kids I was with. i remember the fights I got in, first on my own then with or because of my brother.
He and I had a couple years together of elementary school. But that was it. after that, each of us were on our own. Well not really. We used to share a room and I was such a bitch. We used to fight every morning, mainly cuz I’m a moody bitch – and still am. My baby sister and I never got to share a school building. I moved on to 6th grade when she was three years old. So I can’t tell you about us walking up the hill from the school to our house. Or fucking with the crossing guard on 6th St. (I wonder if she’s still alive. Follow up: I wonder if the old man who drove my bus in middle school is still alive. IDK which was more crotchety. I think they’re tied.)
What I can tell you about both of their educational careers though, is that I always used them as an excuse. After I graduated, I relished the chance to go pick one of them up at school. I loved talking with my old teachers – well two at least. I guess it was a cushion for me. I felt that they understood me. They would get that I was the kid who had to go because I outgrew the pond when I was like 5. I needed the ocean. But I also needed to swim back into the pond every now and then.
Part of that feels like it’s gone for me. Not that I had been taking advantage over the last couple years that I’ve been working. But it was there. plus, I’d go see Chee Chee playing ball and act like the cool older brother. BIG emphasis on the act part. But it was fun being the cool older guy coming back to impart wisdom on the kids. Kinda like a drunken Moses returning to the mountaintop to teach the white kids what ‘joder’ means. Random things of that ilk.
Well in the coming days, she’ll start at a Penn State satellite campus not too far from home. It’s the one everyone referred to as EF 13th grade (EF being the name of our school district). There’s nothing wrong with that, she’s just gotta figure out her ish. Morty is starting a new chapter too. He’s going to start at Pitt’s main campus this fall. He just moved out the house and into his first apartment. I’ve been to neither of those places before. No one knows me as the psycho who came first. I’m just some random chubby white kid with a baseless pimp walk who talks funny.
See, this past summer, the baby of the family graduated from high school. Good, great, grand. But go back and read that first sentence. The baby graduated. I speak not in shock of her graduation. But of the fact that the baby is done. I mean, these people have had an impact on our collective lives since 1987.
I can’t recall my first day of kindergarten in the late summer of that year. But I do remember some of the next few years on the playground at E-Town Elementary. I remember the jump ropes. I remember the games of tag. I remember the days we were give footballs to toss around. I remember the kids I was with. i remember the fights I got in, first on my own then with or because of my brother.
He and I had a couple years together of elementary school. But that was it. after that, each of us were on our own. Well not really. We used to share a room and I was such a bitch. We used to fight every morning, mainly cuz I’m a moody bitch – and still am. My baby sister and I never got to share a school building. I moved on to 6th grade when she was three years old. So I can’t tell you about us walking up the hill from the school to our house. Or fucking with the crossing guard on 6th St. (I wonder if she’s still alive. Follow up: I wonder if the old man who drove my bus in middle school is still alive. IDK which was more crotchety. I think they’re tied.)
What I can tell you about both of their educational careers though, is that I always used them as an excuse. After I graduated, I relished the chance to go pick one of them up at school. I loved talking with my old teachers – well two at least. I guess it was a cushion for me. I felt that they understood me. They would get that I was the kid who had to go because I outgrew the pond when I was like 5. I needed the ocean. But I also needed to swim back into the pond every now and then.
Part of that feels like it’s gone for me. Not that I had been taking advantage over the last couple years that I’ve been working. But it was there. plus, I’d go see Chee Chee playing ball and act like the cool older brother. BIG emphasis on the act part. But it was fun being the cool older guy coming back to impart wisdom on the kids. Kinda like a drunken Moses returning to the mountaintop to teach the white kids what ‘joder’ means. Random things of that ilk.
Well in the coming days, she’ll start at a Penn State satellite campus not too far from home. It’s the one everyone referred to as EF 13th grade (EF being the name of our school district). There’s nothing wrong with that, she’s just gotta figure out her ish. Morty is starting a new chapter too. He’s going to start at Pitt’s main campus this fall. He just moved out the house and into his first apartment. I’ve been to neither of those places before. No one knows me as the psycho who came first. I’m just some random chubby white kid with a baseless pimp walk who talks funny.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Checkin In....
So...yeah. That's pretty much how ish has been going. I been checking in daily to see if Barnes is posting, then intending to write him nasty emails when he hasn't. But I been neglecting my peoples as well yo...
Last weekend was Amor's berfday and I think a good time was had by all. I threw her a little surprise joint on Friday night. I was happy that she had people from school, people from home and friends of mines in attendance. It encapsulated her entire life. I kinda wish I'da rolled through with a Foley-esque This Is Your Life segment. But that mighta felt a lil too forced or suttin...
Now I feel like I haven't seen her since. I been crazy swamped at work. She's been going to class in the A and workin in the P. Never the twain shall meet. It's all good though. She's gettin back into her routine. Senior year of school and whatnot. And this guy is fitna head out on the road to see the countryside while erecting various places for you sustenanical pleasures. (Okay, maybe I made that word up, but fuck it...)
Oh and last weekend was the blues festival, jam, giant, weekend-long concert that we hooked the tickets up for in January. He had a blast. I became a rockstar for said random act of kindness. (I know what you're thinking, 'Geez STAR - save a back pat for us. Well I swear I wasn't tooting my horn, just telling a story yo.) He met some great people. Got some good stories from a weekend of debauchery. Made some connects. And mighta gotten a few gigs out of it. Big ups to ya, Pops. Do the damn thing.
As for me? Hustlin get my grinds on - cuz one day I'ma get my shines on. I ain spoken to Chee, Morty or Migg in a minute. I completely neglected my duties to Fly and the Hitterz. (Shameless plug #3 - www.latehitz.com - I got a new article coming out Monday [???]. Pass by check it out click on an ad and help a dude get some fucking ad money.) Most importantly I haven't seen Mi Amor since Monday. So I'm awaiting her return from her new financial enabler - aka bullshit mall job. Gotta love those right?
I been getting my create-o on, doing some writing nights before I go to bed. I got a new beginning for Life + Times aka the sequel to A Week Ago. I think it's a pretty dope scene. But I assure you it won't see the light of day for a hot minute. I gotta figure out some of details to it. I'm feelin good about it tho yo. Plus, I gotta get through like 3 things before I can really hammer out the details on that one - and even then I gotta finish another 2-3 before I can start shooting. I own Morty our joint before I finish my trilogy. Needy mother fucker....
Also, I gotta get the budget together for AWA. I need B and Don Carmine's collective input to pull that one off. Cuz this guy? He has no idea how much a movie costs. Though according to Bowfinger every movie costs $2,176.34. Before the net gross deduction in tax finance disbursement readjustment. So I might use that as a soft number and let it grow from there.
Ohandbytheway, I still got the UCB joint coming up on Sept 21st. (That makes 2 shameless plugs in my corner of the interweb.) So I get to get my improv on and show all these mother fuckers that not only can I come up with some insane shit. I can do it off the top of my head. And I could also probably do it off the top of my head and make you cry. Just cuz...EGO. Out. HAHAHA.
Last weekend was Amor's berfday and I think a good time was had by all. I threw her a little surprise joint on Friday night. I was happy that she had people from school, people from home and friends of mines in attendance. It encapsulated her entire life. I kinda wish I'da rolled through with a Foley-esque This Is Your Life segment. But that mighta felt a lil too forced or suttin...
Now I feel like I haven't seen her since. I been crazy swamped at work. She's been going to class in the A and workin in the P. Never the twain shall meet. It's all good though. She's gettin back into her routine. Senior year of school and whatnot. And this guy is fitna head out on the road to see the countryside while erecting various places for you sustenanical pleasures. (Okay, maybe I made that word up, but fuck it...)
Oh and last weekend was the blues festival, jam, giant, weekend-long concert that we hooked the tickets up for in January. He had a blast. I became a rockstar for said random act of kindness. (I know what you're thinking, 'Geez STAR - save a back pat for us. Well I swear I wasn't tooting my horn, just telling a story yo.) He met some great people. Got some good stories from a weekend of debauchery. Made some connects. And mighta gotten a few gigs out of it. Big ups to ya, Pops. Do the damn thing.
As for me? Hustlin get my grinds on - cuz one day I'ma get my shines on. I ain spoken to Chee, Morty or Migg in a minute. I completely neglected my duties to Fly and the Hitterz. (Shameless plug #3 - www.latehitz.com - I got a new article coming out Monday [???]. Pass by check it out click on an ad and help a dude get some fucking ad money.) Most importantly I haven't seen Mi Amor since Monday. So I'm awaiting her return from her new financial enabler - aka bullshit mall job. Gotta love those right?
I been getting my create-o on, doing some writing nights before I go to bed. I got a new beginning for Life + Times aka the sequel to A Week Ago. I think it's a pretty dope scene. But I assure you it won't see the light of day for a hot minute. I gotta figure out some of details to it. I'm feelin good about it tho yo. Plus, I gotta get through like 3 things before I can really hammer out the details on that one - and even then I gotta finish another 2-3 before I can start shooting. I own Morty our joint before I finish my trilogy. Needy mother fucker....
Also, I gotta get the budget together for AWA. I need B and Don Carmine's collective input to pull that one off. Cuz this guy? He has no idea how much a movie costs. Though according to Bowfinger every movie costs $2,176.34. Before the net gross deduction in tax finance disbursement readjustment. So I might use that as a soft number and let it grow from there.
Ohandbytheway, I still got the UCB joint coming up on Sept 21st. (That makes 2 shameless plugs in my corner of the interweb.) So I get to get my improv on and show all these mother fuckers that not only can I come up with some insane shit. I can do it off the top of my head. And I could also probably do it off the top of my head and make you cry. Just cuz...EGO. Out. HAHAHA.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Wu U
Now that I'm on the right path and getting my 'on the road' monies from work, I decided I want to do things the right way this time around. And my the right way, I mean make a budget - figure out my daily expenses and coordinate my monthly bills. Then factor in pulling some money out for 'entertainment'. This of course is in opposition to what I did when I first started working and making money. Which consisted of Champagne fueled rampages at black jack tables, followed by all night parties with girls named Destiny, Coco, Peaches and other things of that ilk. Then it turned into $500 nights on the town, once I started to 'settle down' with amor.
Then came the 'rough times'. Student loans kicked in and after I paid rent and my loans, I was going to have something in the vicinity of $4.73 to live off for the month. (Maybe I'm exaggerating, but this whole story is one giant hyperbole at this point.) So things slowed down. And boy are they right when they talked about the stress that not having money can put on a relationship. Me and Amor are not married, but spending 90% of your free moments together starts to turn into crossing the Atlantic on a dinghy with no erotica when you can't afford to go out, eat like royalty then drink the night away. So we had some ups and downs. And I in general felt like dog shit because I couldn't afford to take my woman out for a nice meal at a sensible price.
But now as previously stated, 'I'm paid, I'm paid, I'm got it made in the shade'. (Sorry I wasn't tryin to rub it in, I just wanted you guys to start thinking about Chappelle's Show.) So I have been thinking of - how do white people call it? - making my money work for me. Something like that. I want to take on a couple of investments. Yea, I have a lot of student loans, but I also have a good base salary and that road money is nice.
So I'm looking at having a surplus and I want to do the right thing with it. I intend to pay down the student loans significantly but I also wanna start having some holdings for the future. So I went to the bank yesterday and to speak to the money man. (Much to my chagrin - he wasn't wearing a green suit with diamond encrusted $'s on it. Then I remembered he was a financial planner, not a pimp.) So he's sitting going over my finances and we're talking about my expenditures. Then we start talking about investment opportunities ranging from savings accounts to stock ownership. And as he's going through the different levels, all I can think of is Wu Tang investments' motto - Diversify yo' bonds, nigga...
So thank you Dave Chappelle. If it weren't for you, this wanna be G would just have his cash in an envelope under the mattress. Now I know to put 20% into something liquid, 20% into something risky and the remaining 60% into some things with varying RORs. I spit 'ot fiyah!
Then came the 'rough times'. Student loans kicked in and after I paid rent and my loans, I was going to have something in the vicinity of $4.73 to live off for the month. (Maybe I'm exaggerating, but this whole story is one giant hyperbole at this point.) So things slowed down. And boy are they right when they talked about the stress that not having money can put on a relationship. Me and Amor are not married, but spending 90% of your free moments together starts to turn into crossing the Atlantic on a dinghy with no erotica when you can't afford to go out, eat like royalty then drink the night away. So we had some ups and downs. And I in general felt like dog shit because I couldn't afford to take my woman out for a nice meal at a sensible price.
But now as previously stated, 'I'm paid, I'm paid, I'm got it made in the shade'. (Sorry I wasn't tryin to rub it in, I just wanted you guys to start thinking about Chappelle's Show.) So I have been thinking of - how do white people call it? - making my money work for me. Something like that. I want to take on a couple of investments. Yea, I have a lot of student loans, but I also have a good base salary and that road money is nice.
So I'm looking at having a surplus and I want to do the right thing with it. I intend to pay down the student loans significantly but I also wanna start having some holdings for the future. So I went to the bank yesterday and to speak to the money man. (Much to my chagrin - he wasn't wearing a green suit with diamond encrusted $'s on it. Then I remembered he was a financial planner, not a pimp.) So he's sitting going over my finances and we're talking about my expenditures. Then we start talking about investment opportunities ranging from savings accounts to stock ownership. And as he's going through the different levels, all I can think of is Wu Tang investments' motto - Diversify yo' bonds, nigga...
So thank you Dave Chappelle. If it weren't for you, this wanna be G would just have his cash in an envelope under the mattress. Now I know to put 20% into something liquid, 20% into something risky and the remaining 60% into some things with varying RORs. I spit 'ot fiyah!
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