Obviously I have a sixth sense. I woke up today with a nervous feeling in my stomach and I couldn't help but think that something bad had happened to my car. Perhaps that nervous feeling was entirely due to the fact that I realize that if my car were to break, or otherwise find itself in need of major repair, I would pretty much be up shit's creek without so much as a financial bathing suit (pause to take in the visual) and this causes me oodles of stress on a regular basis. This may very well be the case and I would love to think that when I worry it's usually at a time when I have nothing to worry about. It would have been nice to go out to my car this morning to find that it was in the same fair condition in which I left it on Saturday morning. Alas, the bastards would not let that be. Some jagoff (and I use the term jagoff with the utmost contempt) must have thought it was appropriate... nay, absolutely necessary to break my driver's side mirror. I didn't notice at first because it's only the mirror that's broken, not the plastic casing, but when I sat down in the car I noticed that it looked like there was a ticket on my windshield. Oh, it wasn't a ticket but it was from the police. Apparently, they made an arrest and what they placed on the windshield of my car was the broken mirror (on which I subsequently cut my thumb) along with a form they give to victims of crimes which had written across the top "We Made and Arrest." WOW! You made an arrest?!! How about leaving me the information for the sonofabitch who owes me $40 for the mirror that I had to take an extra hour off of work today to go order at the car dealer so that I can take another hour on Thursday to go back to the dealer to have put on the car? Sorry for venting, but I'm ever so pissed and I really think that the only fair punishment for a drunk idiot who thinks it's funny to annoyingly vandalize someone's car in a way that creates a huge blind-spot making it virtually unfit for driving should be to make them eat the shards of broken mirror laying all over the sidewalk.
Before you comment on my use of run-on sentences in this post: It's a rant people... I reserve the right to use ridiculously long, angry sentences.
26 June 2006
23 June 2006
The madness must stop!
So it's been pretty obvious for some time that Lance Armstrong is to European cycling fans what Barry Bonds is to American baseball fans... especially when it comes to the subject of performance enhancing drugs. Both men are arguably the most dominant figures in the history of their respective professions and both men have had to endure relentless accusations that attempt to diminish (or erase completely) any impact of their accomplishments. However, their two paths diverged in the woods some time ago.
There is one glaring distinction between the two stories as far as I can see: There is a mountain of evidence and testimony to suggest that Barry Bonds is guilty of using performance enhancing drugs (and basically being an all-American jackass) and a similar sized mountain of evidence and testimony to suggest precisely the opposite of Lance Armstrong. So much so that a recent ruling from an independent investigation concluded that the allegations against Armstrong were bogus. This is the sort of thing that I expected would convice any decent human being that it was time to give up the crusade against Lance Armstrong and accept the fact that your countrymen (AHEM, France) were legitimately bested by an American... hell, a TEXAN. I mean, for God sakes, didn't we learn our lesson with this whole incident?
That being said, I was incredibly disheartened today to come across a story about the most recent development in poor Lance's tale. This truly pisses me off. Le Monde is merely trying to slander the reputation of Lance Armstrong. Their accusation, that he addmitted to doctors to using EPO and other performance enhancers prior to 1996 is based on the supposed testimony of one of Armstrong's former teammates and the teammate's wife (who is said to have a strong dislike for Armstrong). All the doctors and friends of Armstrong who were present at his alleged admission have testified to the contrary: That Armstrong never made any such admission to his doctors or anyone (Doctors who, at the time, were treating him for cancer which had spread to his brain and spine).
All one can hope is that when this new information is found to be false, this will be the end of it. I couldn't possibly envision any sort of apology from the editors at the various French media which have consistently made vain attempts to defame one of America's greatest sporting exports, so Lance probably shouldn't expect one. He should, however, expect to be able to live for the rest of his life without having to constantly defend his past.
One of the great comforts I have in all of this is that at this point I'm pretty confident it bothers me much more than it bothers Lance Armstrong. Why should he care about an outlandish claim in Le Monde? He survived cancer, won 7 Tours de France, passed thousands of drug and blood doping tests in the process and has consistently overcome accusations and silenced critics since. All this has been done without ever taking a shot at a society which would like nothing more than for him to return to America and pretend that he never wore their precious yellow jerseys. Unfortunately for them, Armstrong has too much pride, conviction and righteousness on his side to play their slander game. I can only conclude that what they hate the most is that he does what he does with class... hardly what they feel they should expect from an American.
There is one glaring distinction between the two stories as far as I can see: There is a mountain of evidence and testimony to suggest that Barry Bonds is guilty of using performance enhancing drugs (and basically being an all-American jackass) and a similar sized mountain of evidence and testimony to suggest precisely the opposite of Lance Armstrong. So much so that a recent ruling from an independent investigation concluded that the allegations against Armstrong were bogus. This is the sort of thing that I expected would convice any decent human being that it was time to give up the crusade against Lance Armstrong and accept the fact that your countrymen (AHEM, France) were legitimately bested by an American... hell, a TEXAN. I mean, for God sakes, didn't we learn our lesson with this whole incident?
That being said, I was incredibly disheartened today to come across a story about the most recent development in poor Lance's tale. This truly pisses me off. Le Monde is merely trying to slander the reputation of Lance Armstrong. Their accusation, that he addmitted to doctors to using EPO and other performance enhancers prior to 1996 is based on the supposed testimony of one of Armstrong's former teammates and the teammate's wife (who is said to have a strong dislike for Armstrong). All the doctors and friends of Armstrong who were present at his alleged admission have testified to the contrary: That Armstrong never made any such admission to his doctors or anyone (Doctors who, at the time, were treating him for cancer which had spread to his brain and spine).
All one can hope is that when this new information is found to be false, this will be the end of it. I couldn't possibly envision any sort of apology from the editors at the various French media which have consistently made vain attempts to defame one of America's greatest sporting exports, so Lance probably shouldn't expect one. He should, however, expect to be able to live for the rest of his life without having to constantly defend his past.
One of the great comforts I have in all of this is that at this point I'm pretty confident it bothers me much more than it bothers Lance Armstrong. Why should he care about an outlandish claim in Le Monde? He survived cancer, won 7 Tours de France, passed thousands of drug and blood doping tests in the process and has consistently overcome accusations and silenced critics since. All this has been done without ever taking a shot at a society which would like nothing more than for him to return to America and pretend that he never wore their precious yellow jerseys. Unfortunately for them, Armstrong has too much pride, conviction and righteousness on his side to play their slander game. I can only conclude that what they hate the most is that he does what he does with class... hardly what they feel they should expect from an American.
22 June 2006
The lure of our Nation's 35th State...
This'll be a quick one. I have to look somewhat busy at work in a little bit because there is a client-prospect coming in for a tour of our facilities. Luckily I don't have to meet with them (mostly because I didn't shave today... sorry DittoHeston), but the guy next to me does, so they'll definitely be around here, scrutinizing.
I recently found out that one of my good friends is buying a house in West Virginia. He currently lives and works in northern Virginia, so West Virginia makes sense because it's not too far and the housing prices and taxes should be subterranean in comparison. Thus, I say "good for him." However, being from Pittsburgh originally, I just can't, in good conscience, let this thing happen without posing some of my favorite West Virginia jokes. If you're reading this and you're from West Virginia, please don't shoot me. So here they are:
Q. What do a tornado and a West Virginia divorce have in common?
A. Someone always loses a trailer.
Q. How do you know the toothbrush was invented in West Virginia?
A. If it was invented anywhere else, it would have been called a teethbrush.
Q. What is the West Virginia state flower?
A. The satallite dish!
Q. Why did OJ Simpson want to move to West Virginia?
A. Everyone has the Same DNA.
Q. Did you hear that the governor's mansion in West Virginia burned down?
A. Almost took out the whole trailer park
and my all time favorite West Virginia joke (my Grandfather told me this when I was 10 years old)...
Q. What do West Virginia high school cheerleaders do at halftime of football games?
A. Graze!
and now I have to go get ready to watch the U.S. in the World Cup... I mean work.
I recently found out that one of my good friends is buying a house in West Virginia. He currently lives and works in northern Virginia, so West Virginia makes sense because it's not too far and the housing prices and taxes should be subterranean in comparison. Thus, I say "good for him." However, being from Pittsburgh originally, I just can't, in good conscience, let this thing happen without posing some of my favorite West Virginia jokes. If you're reading this and you're from West Virginia, please don't shoot me. So here they are:
Q. What do a tornado and a West Virginia divorce have in common?
A. Someone always loses a trailer.
Q. How do you know the toothbrush was invented in West Virginia?
A. If it was invented anywhere else, it would have been called a teethbrush.
Q. What is the West Virginia state flower?
A. The satallite dish!
Q. Why did OJ Simpson want to move to West Virginia?
A. Everyone has the Same DNA.
Q. Did you hear that the governor's mansion in West Virginia burned down?
A. Almost took out the whole trailer park
and my all time favorite West Virginia joke (my Grandfather told me this when I was 10 years old)...
Q. What do West Virginia high school cheerleaders do at halftime of football games?
A. Graze!
and now I have to go get ready to watch the U.S. in the World Cup... I mean work.
21 June 2006
Superman... back to kill all humans.
I have to admit, I'm excited. Hell, I'm practically giddy in anticipation of the upcoming Superman movie. I mean, I loved the Christopher Reeve franchise but he has been dead for a few years now, and I feel like it's time to move on. He would have wanted it that way.
I'm concerned about some of the casting, though... most notably (and his fan club will probably criticize me for this), I'm concerned about Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. Can he be over-the-top enough? I just don't think he has it in him. Hopefully I'll be pleasantly suprised, but he seems too mellow to really do justice to a character embodied so perfectly by Gene Hackman. Maybe, if we're lucky, Hackman has a cameo... all I want is to hear him make fun of Otis (or a woman named Ms. Teschmacher).
The unfortunate thing is that I have to go to f'ing New Jersey on the 28th for work. If this trip in any way inhibits my ability to see the movie that day, I swear to God I'll take it out on New Jersey. That's right... I'll take a special trip up there, ignore every "jug-handle" and make left hand turns the normal way. I might even pump my own gas! That'll show Jersey not to mess with me... stupid state.
I hope this movie's great. At the very least, I hope it makes my list of top 5 superhero movies (even if it's not better than the one from 1978)... I'm tired of seeing Spiderman on there:
1. Batman Begins
2. Superman
3. Batman
4. X-Men (the first one gets the nod, even though X2 was easily as good a movie)
5. Spiderman
I'm concerned about some of the casting, though... most notably (and his fan club will probably criticize me for this), I'm concerned about Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. Can he be over-the-top enough? I just don't think he has it in him. Hopefully I'll be pleasantly suprised, but he seems too mellow to really do justice to a character embodied so perfectly by Gene Hackman. Maybe, if we're lucky, Hackman has a cameo... all I want is to hear him make fun of Otis (or a woman named Ms. Teschmacher).
The unfortunate thing is that I have to go to f'ing New Jersey on the 28th for work. If this trip in any way inhibits my ability to see the movie that day, I swear to God I'll take it out on New Jersey. That's right... I'll take a special trip up there, ignore every "jug-handle" and make left hand turns the normal way. I might even pump my own gas! That'll show Jersey not to mess with me... stupid state.
I hope this movie's great. At the very least, I hope it makes my list of top 5 superhero movies (even if it's not better than the one from 1978)... I'm tired of seeing Spiderman on there:
1. Batman Begins
2. Superman
3. Batman
4. X-Men (the first one gets the nod, even though X2 was easily as good a movie)
5. Spiderman
19 June 2006
God is a Steeler fan
That's right, God is not a Yankee fan or a Cowboy fan. He doesn't root for Manchester United. He's not a Lakers, Red Wings or even a Red Sox fan. And, contrary to what may have been reported in the past, God is most certainly not dead. That being said, don't confuse me for a religious nut. There will be very little about God addressed on this weblog. In fact, if any of you find me getting overtly religious I ask... nay, plead with you to call me out and bring me back to the world of the less crazy. The only "wager"(s) I make will be usually related to a sporting or political event and should have nothing in common with those made by Blaise Pascal. For example, I might say: "I bet Santonio Holmes doesn't make it out of Steelers' training camp," or: "I wager this poll on Ann Coulter will definitely force her to change into a decent human being." These types of discussions are what weblogs should be about. God doesn't care about my blog... he does however have a deep, unending affection for the Pittsburgh Steelers.
This is obviously, the first post on this blog. There will be plenty more. I'll try daily, but can't guarantee. It depends on how busy I get with things like work and drinking. I have resolved to write more lately and figured that there are millions of other amateur writers with annoying opinions out there in cyberspace, so why don't I join them?
Also, I like comments... feel free to share them. But if you're vulgar... well, then you're vulgar and I guess it reflects poorly on your goddam parents.
This is obviously, the first post on this blog. There will be plenty more. I'll try daily, but can't guarantee. It depends on how busy I get with things like work and drinking. I have resolved to write more lately and figured that there are millions of other amateur writers with annoying opinions out there in cyberspace, so why don't I join them?
Also, I like comments... feel free to share them. But if you're vulgar... well, then you're vulgar and I guess it reflects poorly on your goddam parents.
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