Title Track (8.28.06)

Yea I know it has been a while but I have hit a sort of wall. What better way to stir the creative juices (and getting a chippy choppy post up) than to throw together another Title Track.

Is there a better word, when it comes to cars, than “Turbocharged.” It’s always used as a selling point. What the hell does it mean anyway? I’m sure I could look this up right now, but allow me to rant for a bit. You know if you got a new car and told your friends that it was “Turbocharged,” (needs to be capitalized) they would give you a collective Oooooohhh even though they have no clue what the hell it does for the car.

I was driving to work today and we passed a truck that was labeled “explosives.” I started looking around and making sure that Bruce Willis wasn’t in any of the cars around me filming his upcoming movie “Explosives in a Truck.” Then I got to thinking who do they hire to drive these trucks. 3-1 odds the drivers name is John Doe.

O: So Point, what is this Rocklandfest thing
P: What are you talking about?
O: I thought Rocklandfest was your brain child
P: Oh, check this out. Cheeburger Cheeburger in the afternoon…..
(Walks away)
O: That’s it?

Three days left of work it what will go down as the greatest summer on record

Yesterday I was practicing throwing up Gushers in the air and catching them in my mouth but as I threw one up my mom started talking to me. So as not to be rude I responded to her totally forgetting about the Gusher suspended in air above me. As gravity would have it, the gusher crashed into my face and of course rolled under the refrigerator. So I asked my mom to throw a gusher across the room so I could catch it in my mouth, so I give her a gusher and she nonchalantly put its in her mouth. I should have seen that one coming.

Never underestimate the power of a cheese-puff as a conversation starter

Reason #774 Why I hate Bruxelles
Bouncer: Hats off, If you get caught with it on, you’re done for the night.
Me: You’re kidding right?
Bouncer: Nope
Me: That’s pretty [explicit deleted] ridiculous

Since there isn’t two ways to describe the indescribable, I’m not going to try. So if you haven’t already check out Ostrowe’s Snakes on a Running Diary

Fitzyday August 30, 2006 may be the greatest/most talked about Fitzyday of the summer.

Now I have heard some rumblings that the Vanilla Frosty is nothing more than soft-serve vanilla ice cream with a fancy name. That is a crock of malarky. As previously stated in the commercials a Frosty is a soquid that you can eat with a Fpoon if you choose to. I will no longer entertain any negative comments made in reference to the Holy Grail of frozen beverages.

How much do you think you get paid to be a random bystander who David Blaine performs magic in front of?

These cats are playing us like fiddles

Does anyone else think that Andre Agassi should wear a blonde mullet wig during the US Open this week as a tribute to himself. I guarantee this would raise the rating by at least one point. As a sidenote what do you think Andy Roddick is doing to make sure he doesn’t get eliminated in the first round this year? As a second sidenote what is Andy’s mojo up to this year? Do you think he is being held against his will in a basement somewhere by Roddick’s coach?

CMPoint: (walks into bar) Hey, so is my girlfriend smoking hot or what?

I guess it goes without saying but that Tiger guy is pretty good. Him missing the cut at the US Open was probably the worse thing that could happen to everyone on the PGA Tour not named Tiger. Last sidenote I promise: Props to Stu Cink this weekend for becoming the first player in I don’t know how long to shoot an under-par round while playing with Tiger Woods in the final group on a Sunday.

The other day Jon (not Merm) and I had a spirited conversation about what Laura was ordering for the luxury box at the Giants’ games:
J: What the heck is the chicken capri?
R: It’s those little pants that end around the calf
J: How the heck do they get those tiny pants on those tiny chicken legs?

In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart

The Story We Can’t Speak Of

Until Now.

Welcome to the untold story of the greatest summer of all time. As this story was unfolding, it wouldn’t have been to classy to chronicle it on the blog, but every story deserves to see the light of day when its time is right. Now if you’re reading this post I either told you about it, or you are an avid reader who decided to dive into the archives and check out stories of yore.

Around the time that the Spring semester ended, I started to have feelings for this girl that I knew. Over the past month or so we had spent a lot of time together, however, there were certain extenuating circumstances which led me to believe pursuing said interest was not too good of an idea, so I figured I would keep it strictly platonic. As the summer progressed and I continued talking to this girl I knew. While we talked on AIM we played Truth (it’s self explanatory). We alternated questions throughout the summer; we started with standard questions, then asked more probing ones. We spent the Fourth of July weekend together, had a blast, and then I went to Tahoe. While in Tahoe, I spent money so that I could gain the internet connection necessary to talk this girl. That’s when it dawned on me, platonic was slowly leaving the picture. Unfortunately extenuating circumstances were not leaving the picture.

In the weeks after returning from Tahoe, I solicited advice from some people close to the situation. That’s when Jon came up with this brilliant (sarcasm not included) idea. I would surprise this girl at her job (lifeguarding at a beach) complete with a story that I was going to see a Pawtucket Sox game with Jon. Then at 3:00 Jon would call me and say that he couldn’t make it. Thus leaving me in Rhode Island with nothing to do. So the plan was executed perfectly and I spent the day with this girl. While she was at work we continued to play our game of Truth. As the day went on I started to drop some subtle hints as to how I felt, she mirrored my statements, however, they were too subtle to assume anything (ie the PDA). Really I was just hoping that she would make the first move because like so many Americans I’m not much a fan of failure.

Things progressed as the day went on, then around 11:10 PM EST, I somehow decided to throw caution to the wind. After an hour or so of listening to the mixes we both recently made (both made with ulterior motives), I played the song “Far Away,” and leaned in for the kiss. As it turned out we both had the same feelings, for a similar amount of time, and both of us were concerned with the extenuating circumstances.

Now it’s over five months later and I’ll never forget anything that happened that day. I’m not hesitant to say (although I may hesitate as I say it) those three words which are something new to me.

Lastly, I leave you with this story. And when I say you, Tara, I think your the only one reading this post. As we were walking out of Inty after New Year’s, you kissed me and said that you loved me. I froze because I couldn’t even describe how that made me feel. I returned the sentiment because now for the first time ever I can say this to someone:
Tara, I Love You

A Saturday Night

I’ve been sitting on this story for over a week now for two reasons: 1) I didn’t know if it could make for a substantial post by itself and 2) I didn’t really know how to approach it. I sat around all week waiting for something else to happen to beef up this post, but enough is enough, time to post. Plus I need to reach my weekly quota.

The weekend started harmlessly. Fitzy’s on Friday, Softball on Saturday followed by the Hambletonian. Now that doesn’t sound too exciting, but you have to remember Fitzy’s is the greatest bar on earth and any day that combines softball and horse racing is pretty fantastic too. I could have gone to bed as soon as I got home, slept till Monday morning and still have woken up boasting of having a fantastic weekend. However, the weekend still had some wonder up its sleeves.

The previous Thursday was Rachel’s birthday so Saturday night we were going to the city to celebrate. So around 9:30 I picked up Dmo and Melissa and we headed down to the city to meet up with Rachel and her future sister-in-law. Somehow we found a parking spot right next to the bar we were going to but Rachel was still 10 minutes away, so I decided that I wanted some of J’s Pizza, sadly all I could find was a Subway. On our walk back to the bar Rachel called us from inside, and we told her we would be there in a few seconds. This exchange took place outside the bar as we got there:

(Note: No matter how I write this it won’t be as funny as it was in person)
Bouncer: Hey guys how’s it going? Ten dollar cover charge tonight after 11
Melissa: It’s 11:02
Bouncer: Ok, here’s what I’ll do, I’ll comp you….(Rick and Doug put their money away) and hit you guys up for ten dollars each
Rick: That doesn’t really help us out much
Bouncer: Oh Bro, (gets the attention of his partner) Shorts and Sneaks, come on, it’s Saturday Night. Can’t come in.

Now I’m not going to argue against the right a bar has to give itself a certain type of atmosphere by not allowing shorts and sneaks. But I’m a shorts and sneaks kinda guy. If you don’t want to allow shorts and sneaks in, I don’t want to go in. What I do have a problem with is places like Bruxelles and D&D’s that get so high on themselves that won’t allow hats. That’s rediculous. Any way, needless to say the bouncer became a running joke for the night, his delivery was priceless, often imitated, never duplicated.

The night wasn’t a total waste though. We hung out at another bar down the street that allowed shorts and sneaks, however Rachel really wanted to go dancing. Yes, I did feel bad that I prevented Rachel from going to the bar she wanted to go to, but I wasn’t going to not wear shorts and sneaks. Melissa and Rachel decided to go back to the original bar and try to beg the bouncer to let me in, but I told them to save their breath. Dmo and I let them go dancing at their fancy bar, and we went uptown a bit to meet Eddie O at The Central Pub. A fantastic establishment which immediatly jumped up to number three on my list of greatest active bars. They allowed shorts and sneaks and Dmo was treated to this exchange during his first trip to the bar:

Dmo: Can I have Boddingtons please
Bartender: Damn right you can have a [explicit deleted] Boddingtons. Happy Holidays, this one is on the house.

You can’t beat that.

The Game of Life

Life is a funny thing. If I can refer back to the Choose Your Own Adventure analogy, I can take that theory and break it down even further. Life is a series of moments pieced together. Kind of like a flipbook comprising of billions of photographs taken at each second of your life. Using such a comprehensive breakdown creates an infinite number of paths available to any given person. The best part is that these are not isolated routes, lives overlap lives which overlap lives. The guy who sat three rows in front of you on the train this morning might be moving to Alberquerque tomorrow to continue doing whatever it is he does. Remember that time you went to UMD and stopped off at the Maryland House to grab some Roy Rogers. There was that girl you allowed to get in front of you. (I think she bought a cheeseburger and a Coke) Four years from now you are going to be walking on opposite sides of the street in New York and you will never know.

What I’m trying to get at is how life is unpredictable. That’s not a bad thing though. It is this fact that makes it fun to get up everyday. The good thing about the game of chance that is life, is that the house doesn’t always win.

You have to look at life like a game of cards. The key is to not worry about the last hand you were dealt. That’s not saying it is useless. You can learn something from every hand. The trick is being able to make observations that you can use to your advantage later. Dwelling on the past will only hurt you. Every hand is a new hand and every day is a new day. Every now and then we are all dealt a series of bad hands. The key is to move on, and be patient because everyone gets a run of good hands if you wait for it.

As with a game of cards, in life if you don’t take risks sometimes, you’re not going to get to far. As Mike McD says, you can’t lose what you don’t put in the middle, but you’re also not going to win that much either. If you have a chance to stick your head out, sometimes it’s worth it. Sure there is a possibility that it could go up in flames, but at the same time it could lead to something special. Life isn’t always easy, but things that special seldom are.

Now back to the regularly scheduled lightheartedness:

Fact: I have had a vanilla frosty from Wendy’s three times since Sunday. It’s a little piece of heaven to distract me from this heat wave

Fiction: Fidel Castro voluntarily gave up power. Ok, so maybe I don’t have any proof of this, but the whole situation is suspect

Fact: I heart Degrassi. I find my self hoping that Peter’s DilEmma works out. I enjoyed Peter’s quote “I’d give it all, I’d give for us, give anything but I won’t give up” That’s a quality line.

Fact: despite that last entry I assure you I am not gay.

Fiction: Terry was once a normal five-year old child

Fact: At the age of five Terry had a full Grizzley Adams beard and walked around drinking Jameson straight from the bottle

Fiction: Peter is always winded

Fact: Mar is winded, Peter enjoys working hard and reaping the fruits of his labor

Fiction: I am excited for school to start

Fact: Excited doesn’t come close to describing how good it’s going to feel to be back at school. It seems so far away right now.