Jebidiah and I have done quite a bit of chit-chatting over the recent days and wanted to take the time to thank all of our followers. Without your love and support, this whole process of getting the blog up and going wouldn't be possible. While the idea of a blog started as just a dream, the encouragement and inspiration that is this blog came from all of you. Again, thank you many times over.
Some of you may have realized that I only have so much time to post my musings and rants. Some of you may have also realized that my participation in Dead Weed League activities has appeared to slip. I'd like to thank you all for being so understanding and supportive of the decision to broadcast my thoughts to a wider audience than just the ten members of the age-old membership of the Dead Weed League. Again, while it appear to some that my participation has slipped, I beg of you to take a look at my team's current record. Following this week, I'll be sitting at a very respectable 4-1. I'd also like to note that through the first fours weeks of competition I had yet to score more than 100 points in any week and had actually compiled a 3-1 record while being outscored on the season by seven points. Now, I don't mean to brag or rub the facts in anyone's face, but I'd just like to emphasize the point that my activities in the league have not slipped and I am well on my way to defend that 2009-10 season championship that was rightfully earned and will have to be forcibly pried from my cold, dead hands. But again, I'd like to thank everyone for being so supportive of my new found creativity in this blog.
I've heard rumors that there have been complaints to and from a mediocre commissioner (Joe, I'm talking about Nelson) that there hasn't been enough controversy throughout this season. I've heard rumblings that this blog is to blame for that. I choose to disagree with the allegations. Maybe if members of the league weren't Skyping to all hours of the night, flying across the country for fishing or music appreciation trips, attending Oktoberfest in September, sitting in lawnchairs watching farmers while wearing a Speedo, or driving six hours to look at '19 year-old' waitresses there might be a little more time to cause a stir within the Dead Weed League. So before you want to complain about this creative outlet, maybe each of you who are throwing stones should determine how many meaningful rants you've contributed in the recent weeks and years. Then we can compare our bodies of work and I can show you a true and meaningful rant and I bring a beat down that you soon won't forget.
Again, thank you so much for all the love and support that you've show to this blog. All the comments left on each post are really meaningful and I enjoy the constructive criticism. I wouldn't want you all to just be a bunch of silent followers. If that were the case, we'd set the human race back at least several years, back to the days when Old-Man Bollman ran the Dead Weed League. Without all of you, this work of art wouldn't be possible and I'd still be working on what felt like an empty canvas.
You have one week......
(A free prize will go out to the first response correctly identifying the show and character who uttered the last line in today's blog!!!!)
Monday, October 11, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
What a Weekend
As I reflected on my weekend, Jebidiah and I decided that it should be the subject of the next posting. I supposed I should just start from the beginning and replay each and every event from the past few days so that each of you can feel as though you were right there with me.
It was an important football weekend in the state of Michigan. Not only did Michigan State host Wisconsin, but Green Bay hosted Detroit. As I saw these epic battles coincide on the same weekend, what more could I do that invite a dear friend to share in the fun. I don't want to name a lot of names on the blog and get real specific about who, what, or where, so we'll just call this friend 'Joe'. (Jebidiah and I figure that it's a generic enough name that nobody will know exactly who we are talking about.) Well 'Joe' took the day off on Friday from his busy and bustling job as a calendar maker to make the trip over to take in all that Michigan has to offer. My bride and I met 'Joe' at our lovely, box filled, ever smaller and ever more box filled apartment and from there we all made the trek towards East Lansing to get a good nights sleep in before arriving at the Michigan State game just before kick-off. As we made our way north from Kalamazoo, we decided that our best bet for grub would be to swing by the Lansing Polish Fest. When we arrived, the line was out the door, so we decided to head in another direction in order to fill our rumbling stomachs and fight off those yearnings for 4th meal. I knew just the spot to take 'Joe' and it there just happened to be a hog roast across the road from 'Joe's' former fraternity. After getting a quick bite to eat, we headed over to a nice little establishment known as Crunchy's where we met some old college friends, Timmy, and a couple buckets of Miller Lite. At last, we finished our quite little evening by indulging in 4th meal at a neighborhood watering hole that we've all been to just two or three times, Leo's.
When we all woke up together the next morning at Tim's house, we were a little hazy and not quite sure what happened the night before, but 'Joe' said that it had something to do with the weather. He may have been right, because of all the wind and rain, but I think it had something to do with the Miller Lite. 'Joe' kept putting these pills in the beer and telling us that it would help us sleep at night. I think he called them ruffies or roofies or celings or something like that. I don't really remember, everything just got pretty hazy after that. Well anyway, we all got up together and went for breakfast at some little hole in the wall before deciding to venture towards campus to search out a possible buyer for our football tickets due to the shitty weather. In order to find an appropriate buyer, we all decided that we should take one or two cases of beer along with us. After much debate, we settled on two cases. 'Joe' said that way we could just share each case between two people. I suppose it made sense, that way we all weren't carrying our own. When we found a suitable gentleman to take over the financial ramifications of such a ticket transaction, Ms. Catie decided that the sun was shining and we should go to the game. Sorry mister, no sale.
Well after such embarrassment in being publicly whipped into not even talking price with this fine gentleman, I insisted that we find a quiet park to go and mope. So there we found ourselves, sitting on park benches in the grass near the Red Cedar River behind the International Center and near Wells Hall, drinking beer, moping, talking over how rich we all could have been and what we would have done with our riches. After several minutes at our pity party, we decided to venture north, towards Ag Hall. After making the rounds and walking for what seemed like miles, we spotted something that none of us had seen before. Could it be? Was it really? Yes, I think it was. There were three men walking together. All three were wearing clogs. Not just any clogs, but real wooden clogs. There could have been some debate about if the men were holding hands, or if they weren't. I can't remember. I think those ruffies were still kicking in.
We finally found a tailgate that seemed like a nice place for us to stop and enjoy the wind and rain that had taken the place of the sunshine that was out while we were trying to sell our tickets. 'Joe' and I decided that our tickets had immediately lost value and now we had to go to the game solely on the principle that we would lose so much money if we didn't. While at this tailgate with several fine young men from a small town southwest of Lansing, 'Joe' may have hinted at the fact that he's won several prestigious dance competitions in the great state of Wisconsin. There may have also been some talk about all the schooling that 'Joe' had in the performing arts. Maybe some of the talk stemmed from me, maybe some of it came from 'Joe'. Nonetheless, one of the fine young men also happened to be an accomplished dancer and before we knew it, this young man, who we shall just call 'Jimbo', was calling 'Joe' out on the sidewalk turned dance floor. There were crotch grabs, elbow bumps, and even some sort of weird gyration. 'Joe' said that he didn't want to embarrass 'Jimbo' but I really think 'Joe' was just too scared. That's something that we'll never know.
On to the more important things, after Michigan State laid down a metaphorical t-bag on the face of each and every Badger, the four of us decided to enjoy an quiet evening at a place that I think was called the 'Dirty Beaver Saloon' in downtown Lansing. When we entered, it was nothing like we expected!! There were scantily clad women who were dancing on bars with some sort of denim like chaps. Personally, I think these chaps were homemade, but 'Joe' claims that you can buy these in homoerotic fashion store. We'll leave that up to him. While we were all slightly appauled, none of us were willing to leave given that we had to use our student IDs to enter without paying a cover charge. 'Joe' introduced us to a neat little drink called a lunchbox, fell in love with the '19 year old' waitress (I am still saying that I won that bet and she is over 25 1/2 years old, but that argument will have to wait.) For those of you who are familiar with Kaitlin Cappaso from Normal, IL, I think 'Joe' fell harder for Lindsey the waitress from the Wild Beaver. Before we knew it, 'Jimbo' had arrived and was ready to challenge 'Joe' to several more dance-offs. I think 'Jimbo' must have some sort of ninja skills because it had been several hours since we last saw him and he had tracked us down. Maybe he's an Indian Tracker, we'll never have the answer to one of life's little mysteries......Anyway, 'Jimbo' had guns blazing, shooting the next dance over to 'Joe' but it was all for not. There were even double guns blazing, being holstered back to opposite sides of the belt. It was really a work of art. Next thing we knew, 'Jimbo' was dancing by himself (maybe the music just took control of his body) and he even pulled out the legendary 'shoe-phone' but did not end it with the patented toss after hanging it up. Needless to say 'Jimbo' managed to hook some unsuspecting feminina into his web and convinced her to dance with him. I guess he didn't care who danced with him as long as somebody did.....That's all that I can really put in writing from that night.....
'Joe' and I spent a nice little Sunday relaxing and recooping after all the wild and crazy times by celebrating at the casino. 'Joe' was in a giving mood because he bought several pairs of shoes for the local Native American population before we ventured back to Kalamazoo. We planned to watch the Lions-Packers game at Waldo's to partake in some of the mixed grilled wings I had been raving about all weekend, but drats....They were closed. Then we just went to another bar, watched some DBags play some sort of paper football and called it a day. I took 'Joe' back to the apartment, kicked his ass out, and laid on the couch watching football....How much better can a weekend get?!?!?
Any suggestions for what I should do next weekend??
It was an important football weekend in the state of Michigan. Not only did Michigan State host Wisconsin, but Green Bay hosted Detroit. As I saw these epic battles coincide on the same weekend, what more could I do that invite a dear friend to share in the fun. I don't want to name a lot of names on the blog and get real specific about who, what, or where, so we'll just call this friend 'Joe'. (Jebidiah and I figure that it's a generic enough name that nobody will know exactly who we are talking about.) Well 'Joe' took the day off on Friday from his busy and bustling job as a calendar maker to make the trip over to take in all that Michigan has to offer. My bride and I met 'Joe' at our lovely, box filled, ever smaller and ever more box filled apartment and from there we all made the trek towards East Lansing to get a good nights sleep in before arriving at the Michigan State game just before kick-off. As we made our way north from Kalamazoo, we decided that our best bet for grub would be to swing by the Lansing Polish Fest. When we arrived, the line was out the door, so we decided to head in another direction in order to fill our rumbling stomachs and fight off those yearnings for 4th meal. I knew just the spot to take 'Joe' and it there just happened to be a hog roast across the road from 'Joe's' former fraternity. After getting a quick bite to eat, we headed over to a nice little establishment known as Crunchy's where we met some old college friends, Timmy, and a couple buckets of Miller Lite. At last, we finished our quite little evening by indulging in 4th meal at a neighborhood watering hole that we've all been to just two or three times, Leo's.
When we all woke up together the next morning at Tim's house, we were a little hazy and not quite sure what happened the night before, but 'Joe' said that it had something to do with the weather. He may have been right, because of all the wind and rain, but I think it had something to do with the Miller Lite. 'Joe' kept putting these pills in the beer and telling us that it would help us sleep at night. I think he called them ruffies or roofies or celings or something like that. I don't really remember, everything just got pretty hazy after that. Well anyway, we all got up together and went for breakfast at some little hole in the wall before deciding to venture towards campus to search out a possible buyer for our football tickets due to the shitty weather. In order to find an appropriate buyer, we all decided that we should take one or two cases of beer along with us. After much debate, we settled on two cases. 'Joe' said that way we could just share each case between two people. I suppose it made sense, that way we all weren't carrying our own. When we found a suitable gentleman to take over the financial ramifications of such a ticket transaction, Ms. Catie decided that the sun was shining and we should go to the game. Sorry mister, no sale.
Well after such embarrassment in being publicly whipped into not even talking price with this fine gentleman, I insisted that we find a quiet park to go and mope. So there we found ourselves, sitting on park benches in the grass near the Red Cedar River behind the International Center and near Wells Hall, drinking beer, moping, talking over how rich we all could have been and what we would have done with our riches. After several minutes at our pity party, we decided to venture north, towards Ag Hall. After making the rounds and walking for what seemed like miles, we spotted something that none of us had seen before. Could it be? Was it really? Yes, I think it was. There were three men walking together. All three were wearing clogs. Not just any clogs, but real wooden clogs. There could have been some debate about if the men were holding hands, or if they weren't. I can't remember. I think those ruffies were still kicking in.
We finally found a tailgate that seemed like a nice place for us to stop and enjoy the wind and rain that had taken the place of the sunshine that was out while we were trying to sell our tickets. 'Joe' and I decided that our tickets had immediately lost value and now we had to go to the game solely on the principle that we would lose so much money if we didn't. While at this tailgate with several fine young men from a small town southwest of Lansing, 'Joe' may have hinted at the fact that he's won several prestigious dance competitions in the great state of Wisconsin. There may have also been some talk about all the schooling that 'Joe' had in the performing arts. Maybe some of the talk stemmed from me, maybe some of it came from 'Joe'. Nonetheless, one of the fine young men also happened to be an accomplished dancer and before we knew it, this young man, who we shall just call 'Jimbo', was calling 'Joe' out on the sidewalk turned dance floor. There were crotch grabs, elbow bumps, and even some sort of weird gyration. 'Joe' said that he didn't want to embarrass 'Jimbo' but I really think 'Joe' was just too scared. That's something that we'll never know.
On to the more important things, after Michigan State laid down a metaphorical t-bag on the face of each and every Badger, the four of us decided to enjoy an quiet evening at a place that I think was called the 'Dirty Beaver Saloon' in downtown Lansing. When we entered, it was nothing like we expected!! There were scantily clad women who were dancing on bars with some sort of denim like chaps. Personally, I think these chaps were homemade, but 'Joe' claims that you can buy these in homoerotic fashion store. We'll leave that up to him. While we were all slightly appauled, none of us were willing to leave given that we had to use our student IDs to enter without paying a cover charge. 'Joe' introduced us to a neat little drink called a lunchbox, fell in love with the '19 year old' waitress (I am still saying that I won that bet and she is over 25 1/2 years old, but that argument will have to wait.) For those of you who are familiar with Kaitlin Cappaso from Normal, IL, I think 'Joe' fell harder for Lindsey the waitress from the Wild Beaver. Before we knew it, 'Jimbo' had arrived and was ready to challenge 'Joe' to several more dance-offs. I think 'Jimbo' must have some sort of ninja skills because it had been several hours since we last saw him and he had tracked us down. Maybe he's an Indian Tracker, we'll never have the answer to one of life's little mysteries......Anyway, 'Jimbo' had guns blazing, shooting the next dance over to 'Joe' but it was all for not. There were even double guns blazing, being holstered back to opposite sides of the belt. It was really a work of art. Next thing we knew, 'Jimbo' was dancing by himself (maybe the music just took control of his body) and he even pulled out the legendary 'shoe-phone' but did not end it with the patented toss after hanging it up. Needless to say 'Jimbo' managed to hook some unsuspecting feminina into his web and convinced her to dance with him. I guess he didn't care who danced with him as long as somebody did.....That's all that I can really put in writing from that night.....
'Joe' and I spent a nice little Sunday relaxing and recooping after all the wild and crazy times by celebrating at the casino. 'Joe' was in a giving mood because he bought several pairs of shoes for the local Native American population before we ventured back to Kalamazoo. We planned to watch the Lions-Packers game at Waldo's to partake in some of the mixed grilled wings I had been raving about all weekend, but drats....They were closed. Then we just went to another bar, watched some DBags play some sort of paper football and called it a day. I took 'Joe' back to the apartment, kicked his ass out, and laid on the couch watching football....How much better can a weekend get?!?!?
Any suggestions for what I should do next weekend??
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