To The Ladies

To the ladies out there from all the men:

What Will I Be?

Every child wonders what they will do when they become grownups.

I'm not going to give you a title

So it’s Monday January 28th and I’m a little down. Duck season is over after finishing the final day in a “freezing fog” hunting south of Jonesboogie, Rockansas. Still not sure what “freezing fog” is. The only explanation I can come up with is based on my experience yesterday. Standing in the fog, you couldn’t see twenty feet in front of you. Driving was just as much fun. The turn off the highway was so obscured that I almost missed it. Not fun. That’s not exactly a definition of “freezing fog.” That’s the description of the intensity of that fog. Wait, can fog be intense? Imagine the Macho Man Randy Savage as a fog. That’s the only way I can see an intense fog. Anyhoo, the freezing part came in when the moisture of the fog froze on contact with anything. Not like freezing dew on the ground. This froze both on top and on the bottom of things. It was weird. But we still got a few ducks. It was a weird hunting season.

What else is going on? Well I have officially started training for triathlon season as well as other athletic events I’m planning on doing this spring/summer. I have the Memphis Mile Swim on February 10 and the Germantown Half Marathon (if I can do it) on March 16. The Rebel Man Triathlon in Oxford, MS, is March 29. No races in April yet. I have the Memphis In May Triathlon on May 18. For those of you taking notes, yea that’s the Sunday after BBQ Fest weekend. How awesome is that going to be!!! I already feel bad thinking about it. But I may not have to worry about BBQ poisoning the night before the race, because a friend is getting married Saturday night of BBQ Fest week. Calm down. I know you’re shouting “someone’s getting married on BBQ Fest weekend!!?!? What are they thinking?” But I’m sure she has a rational explanation. I don’t know what it is nor could I come up with an explanation (I just know I’m going to get a hateful email for this). But for me this is a blessing in disguise. I’ll go to the wedding (assuming I’m still invited now) and reception, then I’ll head home early to get a good night's sleep.

As far as my training, I'm doing over three miles a week in the pool. I would like to start running in the next week or so, but I've been swimming so I can drop a little weight before running really. A good friend of mine has run a few half marathons and he said the best way to start is do 2 miles 2 days a week and then do a longer run on Saturday or Sunday (like 4-6 miles) and then increase my distance over time. Sounds like a good idea so I'm going to try that. I'm sure I'll need to go get new shoes. And I'm really putting off visiting Campbell Clinic. Nothing's wrong. I ran cross country for four years in high school and developed shin splints at that time. The doctor at Campbell Clinic made custom inserts for my shoes which made the pain disappear over time. Now over the last decade or so (yeah, I graduated from high school ten years ago) whenever I'd start a heavy running regiment again, my shin splints would flare up again. It hasn't happened in the last few years so I hope I'm ok. It just really, really hurts. (skip to the next paragraph if you want, I'm going to describe how it feels to me) Imagine someone tearing the muscle away from the shin bone on the inside of your legs. That's what it felt like at its worst in high school.

Back to BBQ Fest, I'm joining a team. Yeah I know. I've spent the past two BBQ Fests advocating the wonderful part of being a floater. But I think I'd like to try and experience this from a new way this year. I'll let you know more details when I see fit.

This is the last bit before I go to bed. I've also been reading a lot. Hey, it beats watching that shitty show, American Idol. I won't get onto my rant about that though. Anywho, I just finished Slash's autobiography, Slash. I read Ghost by Alan Lightman and Clapton by Eric Clapton. I'm not sure what my next book will be, but it will either be something by Hampton Side, Pattie Boyd (Harrison-Clapton)'s autobiography Wonderful Tonight, or Nikki Six's autobiography The Heroin Diaries. I was turned onto the books by Hampton Side, Alan Lightman, and Eric Clapton from the Drake and Zeke show on 98.1 the Max. They do a great job of being both cynical and inspirational. Drake talks about a lot of books he reads, and that's where I've picked up a few ideas. It definitely helps clear my mind. I find that reading and exercising clean the cobwebs and stress out of my mind.

That's all I have time for today. Hopefully, I'll get to something else soon. By the way, if you've been waiting to see either Smokin' Aces, Norbit, or Children of Men on HBO or Skinemax, don't bother. They are all really bad. Children of Men could be good, but I'm just not in the mood for an apocalyptic film. I'm in too good of a headspace right now.

Have a good one and don't get none on ya.

Brrr

Ok, I'm thinking of all I have to do today (move some furniture, swim a mile, and watch football at a friend's house). But I'm really lacking the motivation to get out of my bed. It's 23 degrees outside right now but feels like 14 with the wind chill. I think I'll surf the internet for a few more minutes.

Even my dog knows Tom Cruise is crazy now

So I was listening to Drake and Zeke this morning while I was getting ready for work. It's a morning ritual. I listening to comical Zeke and cynical Drake. Their views on world and local issues are quite informative, overly cynical, and always clever. They have opinions on things that I agree with, including the refusal to report on the MOST famous trailer skank ever from Louisianna (Britney Spears).

So this morning they were talking about various topics they've found out on the web and one of them was this Scientology Indoctrination video of Tom Cruise that the cult had removed from YouTube and Google Video. Just watch it (just over 9 minutes) and tell me he's not crazier than Britney Spears.

Bama Women Beat Cocks Almost Single Handedly

That's right folks. Some guy or girl named B.J. posted an article about women's college basketball in the SEC. Of course the title couldn't be simply and straight forward. It had to be a full on innuendo: "Hot Shooting Tide Women Beat 'Cocks"

I couldn't pass up sharing that with you.

Drunk on Scooter at Christmas Party, Part 1

This is Part 1. Be sure to check out Part 2. It is the post below.

Be warned, this is unedited and probably not safe for work if you have speakers on. The next post might be a little better language wise, plus it is only one minute. There isn't too much in this one, but I wouldn't have it blaring over the office intercom or anything.

My favorite part is when I ask him for some words of wisdom at the end: "Words of Wisdom? Uh, stay in school and don't be like me."

Drunk on Scooter at Christmas Party, Part 2

So this is actually Part 2. Be sure to watch Part 1 first. It is the post above this one.

In case you can't tell, this is completely unedited. And yes, this time he did it in honor of Sean Taylor. How wrong is that?

Merry New Year!!!

That's right I said it: Merry New Year!!! If you haven't seen Trading Places with Dan Akroyd and Eddie Murphy, then you don't get it. And if you haven't seen that comedy, you need to get a serious readjustment to your movie viewing priorities. Forget going to see I Am Legend or Alvin and the Chipmunks (they probably suck) and borrow that damn film from any of your friends. They probably have it.

Anywho, I'm going to skip over a few things from November that although they are funny, I don't feel like taking the time to tell them. I'd rather get to the Holiday Season. Or if you are like many of us and hate living in a politically-correct world, the Christmas Season. There I said it. If I disappear, it's because the PC-nazi-police kidnapped me. If that happens, have a good one and don't get none on ya.


On December 1st I went to the Ptolemy "Holiday" Party downtown. After the party wound down, I went to Spindini with a group from the party. Of course I was still wearing my Santa hat which drew looks of shock and disgust from the pretentious crowd at this supposed downtown hot spot. I ask you, dear reader, how they can get away with judging my Santa hat while we can't mention the miriad of surgical accessories they were displaying, including but not limited to lifted/enlarged bossoms, tightened faces, tucked posteriors, enlarged big toes, hair transplants, and botoxed thumbs. I had a group of folks who were waiting for me in East Memphis at Old Venice Pizza Company. I headed that way to meet up with folks and catch the incredible Roxanne Lemmon. I used to live next door to her in Midtown and have been promising her for over two years now that I would get off my lazy ass and go see her live. I have to say it was well worth it. Anyway on to the pics from that night. I have only one pic from the Ptolemy party, and it didn't turn out that well. So I'm starting my second post in a row with a girl posing in a "Look at me!!! I need attention!!!" picture. This is Theresa (I think), and it happened to be her birthday that night Here's me with part of the group at Old Venice. And you can see the Santa hat too.

Here's the birthday girl again.

Part of the reason I got the pic with her Michelob Ultra is because that is a very important Ultra. It propelled me to the rank of "you're an asshole" status. Now I will admit that's a lot of responsibility for just one beer. Especially a beer as crappy as a Michelob Ultra. Let me explain: the bar was crowded and there were only three bartenders. Actually only two of those bartenders were attempting to work from time to time. So when they finally came to us, my buddy Sam bought a round for all of us. Despite the fact I heard him order the Ultra, the bartender never brought it. It took a few minutes for birthday girl to realize this. Then she started to ask why we all had drinks and she didn't. I turned and got the bartender's attention to order it because I was standing at the bar. The bartender brought it, and I gave Birthday Girl her beer. She looked at me and said something like "about time" with a bit of attitude. I let it slide for a second until she tried to snatch my Santa hat. When I sarcastically told her to say pretty please first, I reached the pinnacle of "you're an asshole" status to her. And I really didn't care. I just laughed every time I got the evil eye for the next thirty minutes. Then she finally forgot why she was mad at me.

Here's a pic later in the night. Nothing like shots on your birthday right?

Here's a pic of the Roxanne Lemmon Band. I personally call her Foxy Roxy, but everyone knows her as Roxanne. She's the one in the middle playing the guitar.

So that was the official kickoff for the Christmas Party season 2007. The next party I took my camera to was a Tacky Xmas party thrown by a couple of guys I went to high school with. You were supposed to dress up in really bad Christmas outfits. There were people dressed like Cousin Eddie from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. There were guys who went and got really tacky turtlenecks from the women's department at Wal-Mart. The ideas were hilarious. I spent more time drinking and talking than actually taking pics of everyone's outfits. But here's one couple. You can see his sweater but I didn't get a good pic of her outfit.

I ran into the "Fun Davis" sister. But after that night, we have changed her nickname to Dropsy...I think. She tried to give a friend a hug and dropped a beer bottle in the middle of the laundry room. I'd change her nickname to Spilly but that's reserved for the originally Spilly from my college days. Here's a pic of the guilty parties trying to clean up the glass next to the 5 gallons of eggnog. Yeah, it was strong eggnog.

Sorry some of the pics are blurry like this. Don't ever buy a Sony Cyber Shot camera. They suck.

There were a couple of girls in charge of the music with an Ipod outside. It was like listening to the thoughts of an ADD kid. One minute they'd put it on hip hop and then they'd put it on rock. But they finally landed on "Crank That" by Soulja Boy. Of course they knew the dance. I got a few pics of them dancing. These two girls actually did a good job.

Then this new girl jumped in and knew a little bit of the dance. That was the most comical part of the whole dance. She'd keep bumping into them and apparently doing it wrong, but she'd never stop and try to correct herself. Hey, everyone had fun so who cares right?

Everyone's favorite Memphis Celebutante Mendi was there of course. Here's a pic of yours truly with her. The antlers, sweater, and scarf are nice, but I wish I had a pic of her elf stockings. Those were classic.

We always have to keep up with our traditional shot pic. But there was nothing to shoot. Our drink choices were limited to wine, beer, and eggnog. So I chugged beer while she chugged wine.

This is a pic of one of the hosts, 3D. I'm not sure exactly what he was doing, but I think he may have had a spark land in his hair or something. They had two fire pits going, and that's really the only logical explanation I can come up with for this pic.

Here's Mendi again. No, Mendi! He's not a candy cane! That's just the wine talking to you!

No matter how gangsta you are, sometimes you just need someone's extra large glasses to make your gangsta image stand out that much more.

After the cops shut the party down (how old are we?), some the walking wounded including myself went to Newby's. Some genius (not me) said we needed shots. Some other genius (this was me) decided to buy a round of jager shots. Ugg. There were 12 of us. I bought 12 shots. And yet even though "everyone" took their shot, there was one left. Hmm...

No one was stupid enough to actually drink it so it was there after we left the bar. It was one hell of a party, and I'd like to thank those guys for having me there.

A few weeks later I went to a Christmas party thrown by a few guys from work. I'll post the video of this in my next post, but here are the Steps of Doom. There are two reasons for that name. For the first you'll need to see the videos. The second is because the damn bottom step was not as deep as it should be and the rest are very unsteady. So that makes walking up and down them very fun.

The last holiday party I went to was again downtown at JK's on December 23rd. I was probably the youngest person there, but it didn't really bother me because there were plenty of friends there. I had been hunting early that morning and the morning before in Tunica with Scottie Too Hottie (now known as Sloppy Scotty in honor of the appetizer at the Brookhaven Pub). Down on the farm there are several trees where mistletoe grows so one of the guys with us, Ford, shot down some. And when I say some, I mean a ton. Ol' Sloppy Scotty brought several bunches to the party and left them around the party. Most of us let them hang from our Santa hats. After most of the crowd started to leave, one of the guys hooked up his laptop to the stereo and they moved the coffee table from the middle of the living room. I'm kinda glad he did, but part of me wishes he hadn't. Why the conflicting feelings? Because although I said the girls above had ADD DJ syndrome, this guy actually did. He was HORRIBLE. He'd let 30 seconds of a song play and then skip to the next one. So you'd start dancing and then the music would stop. Everyone in our group was complaining loudly but he never paid any attention. He kept ruining the mood.

There were certain songs he'd play completely through though. One was that Soulja Boy song (twice in one post!). I tried to do a little bit of the dance based on what I saw at the Tacky Xmas Party (somehow the vodka I had been drinking messed up my good judgement). I was quickly told I was wrong by one of the women at the party (she's the second from the left in the next picture). The fact that she said it isn't that great, but the way she said it is priceless:

Her: "Look, you're doing it wrong. You have to do it like this." (she shows me)

Me: "I don't think you're right."

Her: "I have a 13 year old son. Trust me, I know this dance."

I really wanted to tell her that her son was born before I was even out of high school, but I really didn't want to ruin her Christmas by making her feel that old. So I just said ok and let her keep dancing while I stood to the side with my friends until the next song.

So we kept dancing. Sloppy Scotty put his moves out on the dancefloor. I have to say, no one will ever mistake him for Fred Astaire. Here's a pic of him with DD.

Here's the final pic I took that night. It's Ford and Brooks standing on the sidelines while all the old women were on the dancefloor going crazy for "Baby Got Back."

Despite what you may be thinking, I believe Ford is probably saying what the rest of us were thinking: most of those women didn't need to dance to that song and draw any more attention to their "backs." Btw we did have a nice conversation trying to figure which ones were cougars and which ones were future cougars (I told you I was probably the youngest person there).

I hope you had a fun Christmas Party season. I'll try to get the videos up tonight or tomorrow, but you know I can't promise anything.

Hello, Hello Again

When we last left you, I had given you a slightly in depth of a few...well several drunken escapades during the fall. Let's pick back up around the Arkansas at Ole Miss game weekend. Remember our friend who had her 21st birthday and kept spilling her drinks during the Ole Miss v Bama weekend? Well she was a little more coherent and able to use my camera to take pictures for me this weekend. The problem is she thought every other picture needed to include her. I'll spare you the constant barrage of "look at me!!!" pictures, but I have to offer you the first one:
Look at me!!!!!

Anyhoo, we did get our pick together. Here's a few pics of tent regulars.

For some reason that weekend, the music at the tent began to change from a let's party to a more let's dance. And next thing you know we are all dancing. I mean everyone, from my sister and her college friends to my grandmother. We danced for an hour or so. You doubt it? Look even Scottie Too Hottie got down with people.

I did feel a slight bit of apprehension when I looked over and saw Scottie Too Hottie dancing with the sister. That's always a scary sight. We almost need to put up signs around saying "Beware folks, Scottie Too Hottie's on the loose."

Here's a pic of the sister taking a pic of S2H and a dance partner. Mailbox Mike tried to include himself in the best way he could. He gave bunny ears. Nice.

That was a wild weekend.

The next weekend I drove to Little Rock to catch a plane for a wedding in Houston. An old pledge brother who is from Houston was getting hitched to a very sweet girl. I had to be there. For the purpose of this post, we'll call him Bearcat. I've known Bearcat since I was a freshman in college around age 18. It was a blast. I tried to take pictures along the trip. Most of them are crap, but I have several worthwhile ones that I have to share with you.

I took off work Friday of that weekend. Problem was that I had started a few good nights of drinking Wednesday night with some friends. Of course that continued through Thursday night which was Halloween night. I never got any pics because I got all the way to the Lord T and Eloise show at Newby's before I realized the camera was at home. I will say I had a great time and didn't get home until well after 3am. What was my costume? The 40 year old virgin, post-wax. So you can tell how little sleep I had before I had to drive all the way to Little Rock to catch a plane. I did pass several tanks being hauled across the country. Here's a pic:

That weekend Steve Spurrier and his Fighting Cocks of the University of South Carolina were playing at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville (pronounced "Fa-yaeatte-ve-yille"). The Gamecocks are known for having a fan base who travels in large groups.

Apparently they know puns in South Carolina.

Anyhoo, I caught the plane to Houston and hung out for a few hours until it was time for the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. I wasn't in the wedding party, but I was invited because Bearcat and I are good friends. Plus I'm sure they needed some sort of entertainment at dinner. We dined at a nice little Italian restaurant in the midtown area of Houston. There was cocktail hour on the patio beforehand. We had assigned seating at the tables and someone screwed it up...I think. Another friend of ours, TR, was seated at the table on the right side of the room while his wife had a seat on the left side of the room. There was a blank card next to TR which I found out was for me. I'm not going to let a man and his wife sit across the room from each other. She sat with TR, and I jumped down at a table where I didn't know anyone. I sat with several friends of the bride (whom I didn't know before dinner) and the cousin of the groom (also whom I didn't know). After a few moments of awkwardness we began to discuss...well, mostly the kind of BS you discuss with strangers at a rehearsal dinner. We started telling wedding stories. During this time, I noticed a slight variation in the group at our table. The majority of them (friends of the bride) were fresh out of college around the ages of 23 and 24. They had switched from their beers at the bar to the wine at the table (I took a sip and chose not to partake in the wine). The rest of the table, i.e. the groom's cousin and me, were older. I am 28, and she is...I'll be polite and say in her 40's. She stuck with her steady flow of Dewars and ice. I had a nice stream of vodka tonics in front of me. The funny thing was the "younger" crowd at the table was getting drunker faster than we were. Overall I don't think I could have had more fun at any other table. I told stories. I laughed at other's stories and jokes. Had an absolute blast.

At one point during the meal I see out of the corner of my eye, the bride's family looking at our table. They were pointing at me. You see, the bride met me once before this weekend at an Ole Miss football game at my tent. It was after the game and late in the afternoon so I knew she probably couldn't pick me out in a crowd. Her family was obviously asking her who was this guy that they didn't know. Which one of her husband-to-be's friends was this? Was he one of the wild ones they heard horror stories about? I turned to the groom's cousin and did a mock impression of the bride's family. I covered my mouth as if I were whispering to her and began pointing at each of them. They quickly showed their collective embarassment and tried to hide the fact they had been pointing in my direction. The groom's cousin and I got a big kick out of it.

After dinner and dessert, the party returned outside to hear toasts and then a slideshow of the bride and groom throughout their lives. It was really cool. After all that, the younger generation divided up to head out into the Houston area to continue our intake of libations. One group consisting of most of the guys (with a few of their wives) and the groom were heading to one bar. A second group consisting of the bride and all her college girlfriends were going to a bar called the Armadillo Palace. Guess where I went? Yeah, a few of the bridesmaids from my table grabbed me and said "you're coming with us to the Armadillo Palace!" So I piled with too many others into the back of a Toyota Four Runner. So here here I am in a suit and tie climbing into the back of an SUV like a drunken college freshman. Amazing how much I had regressed in one night. Or some might say I didn't regress that far. Anyhoo, as always, I had the camera ready for your viewing enjoyment:

At least I wasn't alone when I was crammed into the back of the 4Runner. My question is, do you think we could get a little more smile out of these two? There's too many teeth in that pic.

Bringing the shocker to Texas. I rock the shocker; they rock the horns and show gang signs.

When we pull up to the Armadillo Palace, there is a giant metal armadillo statue out front. Giant as in over one story tall. There was a damn good band playing real country music, not that fake shit that Nashville puts out. Sorry I didn't get a better pic of them.One thing I learned in college is that Texans are a proud people. They love their state. The rest of us love our regions. Texans have way too much pride. Need examples? Glad to help:

A lone star bathroom sink (notice the stars in the bowl)

The bar had Texas shit all over it. Here's a flag celebrating the different countries that have claimed Texas.The only disappointment about this bar was they didn't have a mechanical bull.

One of the things I learned while I was at this bar (besides the fact I can drink most of these folks under the table) was how to two step. Of course I have since forgotten it, but one of the bridesmaids was really enthusiastic in showing me how. Here she is.After a few of the folks were carried out of the bar to cabs, I hung out with bride and maid of honor. I'm not sure exactly what I was trying to get them to do, but they definitely were there to entertain.

After the bar finally kicked us out, I caught a ride back to the hotel with the bride and maid of honor. Of course I had to visit Taco Cabana on the way to the hotel. If you ever go to Texas, there are two fast food places I recommend: Taco Cabana and Whataburger. Both are open 24/7 and serve better food than you can ever imagine. Taco Cabana is what Taco Bell would be if they actually served real food.

We get back to the hotel with our TC and plop down in the lobby bar to eat it. For some reason the hotel's bar closed at 11PM while the real bars in town closed at 3AM. So we had all this food to eat but no libations. I went into the hotel shop behind the front desk to get some waters. What did I find but beer in the fridge. I politely convinced the girl at the front desk that we drink these beers before they go bad. She was kind enough to let us. We opened our beers, finished our TC, and said good night. Honestly, I think I had maybe a sip or two from the beer. I was so done drinking that I didn't need anymore.

The next morning I awoke with a wonderful hangover. I couldn't find a way to cure it in my room. I didn't have any aspirin or anything. I just slowly drank water until I got a call from one of the groomsmen. The groom's family was taking all the guys (and some of their wives) to Armadillo Palace for food, beer, and some pool. Like I always say, "the best detox is retox." We returned to the scene of most of the crimes from the night before and force fed greasy hamburgers to ourselves. After a few bloody maries and beers, the general mood of the group lifted as our collective hangovers drifted away. We watched some college football games while playing pool and shuffle board. The restaurant finally kicked us out just before 4 that afternoon because they had a private party coming in for the evening. As we walked out, I saw the party planners setting up this mechanical bull. I exclaimed how disappointed I was; I had been in Texas for just over 24 hours and I was finally seeing my first mechanical bull. I said I was unhappy because I was probably going home without the opportunity to ride the mechanical bull. The rest of my group really started to laugh when I said that coming to Texas and not riding a mechanical bull is like going to Hollywood and not sleeping with Paris Hilton.

That night we went to the wedding, and it was beautiful. The reception was at the Petroleum Club at the top of the Exxon Building in downtown Houston. Here's a view of the skyline including the Toyota Center where the Rockets were playing a game:

I had a great time at the reception. The food was great except for the weird purple mashed potatoes. What was up with that? We danced and drank and laughed. Here's a pic of the single girls reaching for the bouquet:

There were only two girls who really were after it. It seemed like the rest were shying away from the bouquet. My kind of crowd. Of the two girls who were hunting for the bouquet, there was the first girl who actualy caught it. We'll call her the friendly bridesmaid. The other girls obviously didn't catch it. We'll call her the drunken, angry bitch bridesmaid (that's a fitting title for that night). When the friendly bridesmaid caught the bouquet, the drunken, angry bitch bridesmaid snatched it from her, stumbled a few steps backwards, and threw the damn thing back in the friendly bridesmaid's face. Hey! Here's a pic of her not long after that:

She passed out in the chair. It was probably a gift from heaven because after her stunt on the dancefloor, she was shunned the rest of the night. When she did try to be conscious, she would make futile attempts to speak to anyone in the vicinity. Of course her tone had a viscious, angst ridden bite and her words were so slurred that all you could decipher was "hey you." It almost made me want to say "honey, grab a cup of coffee and some guy or girl to help you work out this pinned up frustration. Are those words too big for you right now? Ok, then go get some." But I didn't know her or really care. So I walked away shaking my head.

For the final two hours of the reception, the younger generation had an ongoing debate over where we were going for the afterparty. Like I said this was a two hour discussion. Half the crowd wanted to go to bar A. Then it was bar B. Then some people wanted to go to a club. You know what kind of people you find at a club? Watch the new haircut video again. More than half us were against that idea. So this fuster-cluck continued. After the first hour, I hit a wall. I mean bad. I was tired and I really didn't want to deal with a bunch of ADD drunks who wanted to do this, then 30 seconds later wanted to do this. Now before we left one of the guys from Mississippi showed his dance moves to prove that we didn't need to go to a club, but to a bar:

Imagine Chris Farley dancing by himself and that's what it was like. We all went down to the bottom of the building and after we concluded that we were going to a certain bar, this one girl said she wanted to go somewhere else. So it continued. It was at this point that I lost my patience. I said goodnight to the group and explained that I had sobered up too much in the last two hours to start all over again at a bar. Despite their whining I headed back to the hotel which was only a few blocks away.

I'll spare you the whole story, but the walk to the hotel was interesting. If you've never been to Houston, it's a warm town almost year round. And seeing as there is a good climate, they have a large homeless and bum population. It is not nice. On my way to the hotel, there was this woman about a hundred feet behind me stumbling down the sidewalk. She was rambling out loud, obviously high. All of a sudden I heard certain words coming through clearer than others. Now I'm going to shorten the curse words, but you can get the idea: "GD white boy in his GD MFing tuxedo. Thinks he's hot shit. Yeah F you..." Then she trailed off again into incoherent words. For the record she also was white. I looked over my shoulder to make sure she wasn't right behind me or anything and saw some of the folks from the wedding party driving towards me. They slowed down and drove me the rest of the way to the hotel. I don't think the bum woman was going to do anything to me, but I was thankful I didn't have to walk the rest of the way looking over my shoulders.

The next morning I packed and caught a cab to the airport. I really wouldn't mention this, but I did capture a pic of the greatest mullet of all time:

How awesome is that?

Well that's all I've got for now. I'll try and get another post up soon to bring us to the holiday party season. I have a great video that I may just put up out of chronological order. Actually I think I'll just let that be a teaser for it.

Have a good one and don't get none on ya.

Well Surprise, Surprise, Surprise!

In case you haven't heard, here's the biggest surprise of the year. The 16 year old sister of the biggest white trash star from Louisiana is preggers. I guess if you can't take the trailer out of a girl, you probably can't take it out of her sister either.

Yo

I'm going to have some great stories to tell soon. But I don't have the time to do it right now.

By the way, I'm tired of people asking why I don't post daily like I used to when I was unemployed. I have a job and I've been a little busy. So stay patient please.

Oh yeah, if you're one of the many folks who got a call from me last night between 2 and 4, sorry. It was after last call and I wanted to keep partying. Since no one was being a night owl, I had to go to Alex's Tavern and enjoy some of Rocky's wings. But I'll have plenty of drinking stories in the near future. I'll have to do another "Best of" post in the next few days.

Have a good one and don't get none on ya.

Don't you hate it when this happens?

Drunken Challenge

I hereby issue a challenge to all my sobriety challenged friends! See how much of this you can say when you are really drunk. If you actually want to make a game of it, you can use this point scale:

1 point for each item in the first group

2 points for each item in the second group

5 points for each item in the third group

You have to have a friend keep score though.



Things That Are Difficult To Say When You're Drunk:

1. Innovative

2. Preliminary

3. Proliferation

4. Cinnamon


Things That Are Very Difficult To Say When You're Drunk:

1. Specificity

2. Anti-constitutionalistically

3. Passive-aggressive disorder

4. Transubstantiate


Things That Are Downright Impossible To Say When You're Drunk:

1. Thanks, but I don't want to have sex.

2. Nope, no more booze for me!

3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.

4. Taco Bell? No thanks, I'm not hungry.

5. Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?

6. Oh, I couldn't! No one wants to hear me sing karaoke.

7. I'm not interested in fighting you.

8. Thank you, but I won't make any attempt to dance, I have no coordination. I'd hate to look like a fool!

9. Where is the nearest bathroom? I refuse to pee in this parking lot or on the side of the road.

10. I must be going home now as I have to work in the morning

...

I am at a loss for words. We lost to State after leading the game in every statistical category for more than three quarters of football. What the hell? The words that could possibly begin to explain the levels of frustration, anger, and total humiliation that I am experiencing right now are escaping me. I am emotionally drained. This sucks. At least I don't have to watch the Rebels play football again this year. I'd look forward to going hunting, but that's going to suck too. It's going to be too cold, and there will be no ducks.

Shit.

I think I need a new hobby.

My New Haircut

This is what you call Fan-freaking-tastic! A few guys at work have been quoting this goofball, and I finally looked it up. I hope you get as many laughs as I did. This is like those Gotti kids you seen on the net.

Quick question though: are the rest of us as annoying when we order Jagerbombs? Probably so.

And Now Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Programming...

So I've been MIA for a while. I know it. I don't really take all the blame because Blogger just wasn't cooperating. I got frustrated and just stopped trying. But I had an early dinner tonight and while watching TV started working on this "Best Of" post. So here are a few highlights of things that I've meant to get to.

We'll start with the Florida at Ole Miss football weekend. SEC football fans tend to back their teams. We back our teams through thick and thin. Hell, I'm an Ole Miss fan who has put up with a lot this season. But I think this guy may back the Florida Gators even more than anyone ever: What do you think? I probably shouldn't have led off with that but it's first in chronological order. Plus it's damn funny and I hope I don't have to explain the pun attached to this.

Next is a pic of one of our tent regulars who came by on her 21st birthday weekend. I'll give you one guess as to which person in the pic spilled their drink four times in a row after refilling it.

No, you jackass. It was her. No matter how overserved I've been at the tent, I've never spilled my drink...more than once.

Next is a pic from when I went dove hunting one afternoon in September down in Tunica, MS. Isn't that beautiful?

Yeah, the scenery was beautiful. But my shooting was abismal. I went through five boxes of shells and shot 3 doves. I found one. Do the math. That's 125 shots for one dove. The other two were weird. The second dove fell into the sunflower plants a few dozen rows away. I never could find it. That really makes me mad. I hate waste. I searched up and down the rows for 10 minutes but couldn't find him. The third landed at the top of a crest in a tilled field. For those of you who've never left the urban area of your respective cities, a tilled field is one which has only dirt on top. The ground has been churned over. In other words the bird landed at the top of a slight rise in the dirt. I saw it fall and another man saw it fall. When I walked to where it was supposed to be, it wasn't there. The other hunter came over and we walked around on top of the exposed dirt to find...nothing. I've never seen or heard anything like this. Weird, right?

This next pic is from the Ptolemy Fall Party (Old School Party) at Ernestine and Hazel's. It was a blast. On the right is Amy "The Fun Sister." I'm not sure who the girl on the left is.

Here are those two again with Beth and her unseparable tiara.

After that party, I packed to head up to Minneapolis for a work seminar. It was a whole lot of classes and a whole lot of partying. You know who were some of the coolest folks I met? The ones from Canada. Not only can they drink but they would say "Eh" and "aboot" all the time. I'd laugh and say "Yall are hilarious. I love your accents." They would in turn reply "Oh my God, it's my first 'yall'." That went on for one long night at the bar.

The last night in Minneapolis I went with a group to the Mall of America. It was awesome. They actually have roller coasters inside. But if my town was frozen for 9 months out of the year, I'd probably build a mall with roller coasters inside. Seriously, how can you justify living somewhere that requires you, due to the severe climate, to PLUG YOUR CAR INTO THE OUTLET IN YOUR GARAGE OVER NIGHT SO IT STARTS IN THE MORNING? Human beings aren't meant to live like this. Is this supposed to be a test of a communal strength? Or are these people so bat-shit crazy that they think the rest of the world is like this? Do they think Jamaicans live on the beach in the sun from June to August before hibernating the rest of the year? Of course they couldn't! Their dreads would snap off sometime around December 27 from being frozen for 4 months straight! That is of course if they didn't snap their owner's neck from the increased weight over that time.

Anyhoo, one thing they do that I thought was cool is a Promotion called "Disco is Dead." That's pretty cool. These posters were up everywhere in the mall.

By the way, people in Minnesota have no sense of humor. They are very dry and not overly sociable. At least the ones I ran into. Maybe I'm spoiled from living down South. But if you made a witty quip, they'd just stare at you until you gave them a straight answer. Before you automatically say 'well maybe you just weren't funny, Philip' this is an conversation between a waitress at lunch and one of the other seminar attendees from Jackson, MS.

Lady: "Are you finished with your plate?"
Guy: "Well, I was contemplating finishing the rest of my corn off the cob, but maybe I'll opt for the dessert plate instead. I think I can lick that clean.

Lady: "..."

Guy: "Um, yes ma'am. You can take it."

Oh yeah, they don't have any hot sauce at restaurants. The only type of sauce they have is A1. And that won't help the bland food.

Ok that's enough bashing of the Minneapolis. They were nice people, but just different from what I'm used to.

A week or so later was the Alabama at Ole Miss weekend. I went down Friday night for a bachelor party. By the time I got to Oxford they were so drunk that they had left the bar, taken the bachelor of honor to Old Venice, and were shoving pizza at him to sober him up. So I left and went elsewhere on the Square. I ran into one of my old friends, Brandon (aka WB). He was the one who called me at 2PM that afternoon when I was still at work to inform me he opened the first bar on the Square and had already had one Jack and Coke. I ran into him with a group of folks at the Rib Cage (a BBQ restaurant and bar). He was good and drunk. I said hey and met the rest of the group. This was around 10:30ish. When I excused myself to grab a drink from the bar. He said "get me a Jack and Coke, bitch!" I said "excuse me" to which he responded "you heard me!" I walked over to the bar and ordered to drinks. I had a vodka tonic and set his drink in front of him. He was in the middle of an animated conversation and stopped midsentence to exclaim "WHAT THE F**K IS THAT?!?" I said "It's your Shirley Temple...bitch."

He stares at the drink, then at me, and then back at the drink. Everyone else starts cracking up. He's silent for about a minute before he says "you know what? I'm going to drink this. And I'm going to enjoy it. Watch!" So I had to take a pic of him "enjoying" his shirley temple with his Muppet haircut.

We were there for a little while longer before going to another bar, one of my favorites from college: Pearl Street Pasta. Of course it was my favorite in college because I knew all the bartenders and would get quick service/small tabs. Apparently that doesn't happen anymore.

Part of the rest of the night is a blur due to double vodka tonics and a whole lot of really fun conversations that I can't remember so many weeks later. Oh yeah, the Jager shots didn't help. Need proof of the evil effects of Jager? Here you go from my sister's camera:

Yeah, it's the return of the shocker to drunk pics.

After they closed the bar/kicked everyone out, there was a lot of drama going on in the street outside. In fact there were three "incidents" that we were involved in/witnessed. Of course the memory is hazy in parts due to the excessive alcohol consumption over several hours (I can't remember the second incident but it had nothing to do with us). But here's the first one (sorry for hazy pics):

This guy who we'll call Napoleon (short man's complex joke!) stumbled out of the bar just in front of us. He was walking near our group obviously agitated about something. He made it vocal at that time. Now I don't remember what the exact issue was, but I decided it was my job to encourage him to find the source of his frustration. I think I contributed by giving him a lot of "Yeah you're right, man!" "I do think whitey is keeping you down!" and other such comments. He (thank God) wasn't catching onto the large amounts of sarcasm I was throwing out there. After a few minutes of entertaining my group with this drunken buffoon (pot calling kettle black!) by channelling what I call Tucker Max drunk, I told him we were leaving and he needed to head the other direction so he wouldn't hit me with his car when he drove home. He stumbles across the street and walks PAST (that is key) this random girl and her friends (she's in the pic below). He turns to start berating her. For the record none of us approved/sanctioned/applauded this behavior. She was just an innocent bystander who happened to walk past young Napoleon Bonaparte. He berated her in string of explatives that lasted for about thirty seconds straight. Almost everyone on the street stopped to watch this idiot. This poor girl stopped dead in her tracks, turned to walk back to him, shoved him backwards (he did in fact stumble because this is all clear to me), and said "What did you call me, you little bitch?" Her friend (also a girl) had to walk this little guy away until the girl he insulted decided she had enough and was about to beat his ass. At that time her friend let go of Napoleon and walked her friend back to their car. Literally forced her to their car. This little bastard stood their while the crowd erupted into a din of shouts directed at him. Most involved one of two things. They either questioned his manhood or told him to go away before they came and whooped his ass.

After he finally stumbled away we stood there laughing. The next incident is kinda hazy, but it involved someone completely not related to the previous incident trying to start something in the same general location as the previous incident but leaving. All I know is that when that person turned to leave, my friend Laura shouted "Run Rudolph Run." Don't know where that came from or why it's funny, but we thought it was hilarious.

The last incident was all me. Well, me channelling the inspiration of Tucker Max (yeah, I think I read some of his stories the week before going down there). This is a group of Bama fans on the bench in front of the Rib Cage:

From left to right, you have guy in Bama hat, drunk guy passed out on bench with Bama "A" on his shirt (can't see it in the pic, but it was there which is what caused me to do what you're about to read), and girl in pink shirt. As we were walking to our vehicles to head home for the night, we walked past this group on the bench. I believe someone said "is he going to be alright?" It was directed at me or my group, but I immediately decided to give my medical opinion. Well, not so much a medical opinion but more of an opinion inspired by Jim Carrey from Ace Ventura. As I walked past this group in the pic, I turned and replied "I can tell you what's wrong with him! He has been possessed by the spirit of Bear Bryant! I need an old priest and a young priest and A HOUNDSTOOTH CAP so I can EXERCIIIISE THE DEMON!!!" We all laughed, but apparently the girl in the pink shirt didn't find it too damn funny. She didn't vocally express her lack of appreciation for the humor I had bestowed on the situation. She physically expressed it in the form of a slap to my face. I paused. My group went silent. I started laughing again and kept walking to our cars.

That's pretty much all the shenanigans from that night. I will say I felt like ass the whole next day. My face didn't hurt but the rest of my head did from all the damn Jager shots. And it was Oktoberfest at the tent but I never really took any pics I think. What I did get a pic of is when the Alabama graduate who was working the replay for the referees royally screwed us out of a great come back win. By the way the rumor that I've heard is that he has been reprimanded so many times over the years for biased calls that he can't even be a ref on the field during the game anymore. Hmm... But again that is the rumor I heard...from a Southern Miss fan. Much more credible than coming from an Ole Miss fan who is biased against them. Anyhoo here's the pic.

Now that's a short "Best of" post covering part of the fall. I still need to get pics from my trip to Houston and...I have no idea what else. I'll try to come up with more stuff but I have been swamped with work and all. I guess I spoiled everyone when I was unemployed for so many months. I had so much free time that I could post whenever something came to me.

Anyhoo, have a great one and don't get none on ya!