Now that the Giants have decscended into the basement like the proud unlikeable people they are, it's time for me to stop blogging about them. Sure, they'll always be first in my heart no matter how prickly or surly they are. It just isn't good to always write mean things about a team that you love. So, I'll refrain. I think they found their catcher of the futures (Mr. E. Alfonzo) which means they'll put him on waivers so they can reaquire Sid Ponson to make that last push to the playoffs because that window of opportunity is closing for all these vets as Mr. Sabean would like to remind us as if we should care about the vets he's acquired who will stick around for two years and then be gone again. Seriously, it's not as if these guys (except for Ginoo Bonds) have stuck with the team for years. It's not like the team in 1993, where they had the shot, and after that things went into the old crapper and they didn't recover for years and poor old Robby Thompson, Matt Williams, Will Clark, Kurt Manwaring and the rest all went their separate ways (like Journey) and things turned into a pile of poo.
Well, let's get beyond this. The Washington Post made some big ol' mistakes in their talk about welfare reform in yesteday's paper such that I have fel an urge to write a Letter to the Editor to see if I can get my name in the Post. I was excited when I got into the Daily Univers a couple of times ; imagine my glee if I can get into the Post. I just might, I just might. There's nothing better than when someone talks about the very law you've been studying and you get a chance to show it off like a Nerdlinger.
On Saturday, I participated in an epic RISK game the like sof which had nt been seen since Jon Nielsen, Chris Nielsen, BJ Taylor and some other schlub huddled around a RISK 2210 board in the fall of 2001 listening to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon (and a little Queensryche- Another Rainy Night - Good stuff) while eating chips. Great moments of stranding Jon Nielsen on the moon. So cool. Anywho, this was a real full on Risk game. I haven't played original Risk since I was 18, in a Holiday Inn in Washington, DC with my classmates for the We the People competition. Josh Vineyard was hitting on the girls from Masschusetts in the hot tub with Chris Miller who was definitely not getting chicks. I believe Josh scored that night if you consider scoring to be giving a hot girl a Book of Mormon. I think we were all midly impressed. Dave Baugh wasn't paying much attention to the game because he was too concerned with what was happening on Boy Meets World with the lead characters on prom night. We would freak whenever we'd turn it to ESPN to be cool real men. Anyway, us losers stayed up playing a couple of games of Risk, and I think I did rather well. My memory is vague on that point, but I do remember that Chris Miller bought Pearl Jam's Yield and pretended to like it even though we all knew that Pearl Jam was so not cool in 1998 (two years before, it would have been a brilliant buy). I, being extremely advanced in my musical taste, bought the Airbag/How's My Driving? EP by Radiohead. Everyone looked at me weird, but if they have any memory of that purchase now, they'll realize that I was cooler than all of them. Yeah, that's right. An unappreciated tasteful music buyer. That was an interesting trip. I should write more about it some other time. So, this other RISK game was intense, maybe because the players are so diverse. I was the jerky snarky sarcastic one who at the end of the game kept boasting about my psychological victory I scored when one guy attacked another. Seriously. The game isn't over and I'll I've got is Europe. You've got to rejoice in your small victories. When I say the game players are diverse, I mean, we had four minorities play: Two women, a Dominican, and a Hawaiian (not really Hawaiian but he plays one at parties). I just came to the realization that I talk to much when I play games or sports. Too much motor running. It's not like it's effective trash talk, josy a bunch of not-so incisive observations about the state of the world today.
It it time for the world to stop giving power and money to people named Jack Johnson. The singer is incredibly boring and the County Executive of PG County has given away a bunch of contracts to his buddies and is proud of it, even though they have no training to do the kinds of things they get contracts to do. I'm voting against him and the county council this election (I was already planning on doing this after the voted themselves a 14% pay increase, but now I'm even more determined) Boo to all Jack Johnsons in this world? To quote Buddy Hackett in It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World, "May you just drop dead!" I never thought I'd quote Buddy Hackett.
So, my wife totally does not believe Chasing Cars is the best song of 2006. She listened to it over and over and over again and said,"I disagree with your chasing cars claim. good song, yes. the lyrics aren't enough. it doesn't grab me. or challenge me. or make me want to keep listening more and more until I figure out the song. maybe if I was watching hot doctors make out while I listen I would feel differently..." Maybe she's right. Maybe it was the hot doctors. There's nothing worse then agreeing with the people of Grey's Anatomy that this is a great song while others say, it's nice, but not awesome. I really don't know a good analogy for what this is like. It's like when my buddy Eric liked this girl that he thought was so hot and the rest of us thought she was okay, but nothing special. He kept trying to convince us that she was hot and I kept thinking, "Eh, not so much buddy" I don't know if my calling her a dog was any help, but he really stuck to his principles and continued to like her (yeah, welcome to Orem, where we're proud to "like" girls from afar and that's. about. it.) Anyway, I have to band together with the Grey's Anatomy people to say, "Yes, this song is great" I feel so cheap and dirty.
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