Monday, October 11, 2010

A gracious 'Thank You'

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 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??     

Thursday, September 23, 2010

As I sat at the county fair's auction today, I remembered a single thought crossed my mind and took hold. It wasn't that a champion goat sold for $1,000 or there were rabbits fetching amounts well above $500. No, it wasn't even that I had witnessed someone purchase what has to be the most expensive Thanksgiving turkey in the history of Thanksgiving at a price of, again, $1,000. It wasn't that both the goat and turkey had better have gold running through their veins or wondering how much a turkey at the first Thanksgiving would have cost...No, it was much deeper than that.

As I tried to plan out my evening of bachelorhood, I settled on centering it around a little program called Jersey Shore. The only thing I can relate this show to is a slow motion train wreck. Something that only gets worse and worse, but at the same time, you can't stand to turn away. Week after week, the plot is the same, but week after week, this train wreck of a show continues to entertain countless viewers. While the cast has been repeatedly criticized for giving the Italian-American community a bad name because these self-proclaimed 'guidos' and 'guidettes' seem to have nothing more to life than spending their time drinking until sunrise, hooking up with randoms, and engaging in fights with others in the house. Critics say that the show is a waste of time and it isn't realistic. That may be so, but I prefer to take a different angle when looking at the cast of this show...

Rather than thinking of the cast as a bunch of idiots, I believe that members of the cast are just taking advantage of what sells on television. These people aren't doing much more than what happens during any college welcome week or college spring break, the only difference is they are having cameras following them around and getting paid for it, and getting paid very well. How many of us haven't gone to a club in our college years and drank until being kicked out, and then gone home and continued to make asses out of ourselves? How many males at any number of universities spend their weekends chasing random ass? How many people have spent their spring break doing nothing more than drinking all day and trying to hook up all night, without a single thought of getting a job? The cast is doing nothing more than using this show to create a train wreck and allow it to be filmed. They may act like morons, but somehow they aren't stupid enough to do the show for peanuts. Before the filming of the third season, the cast held out for raises. They went from getting $5,000 per episode the first year, to $10,000 per episode the second year, to $30,000 per episode for the third season. Can everyone of these self-indulged 'actors' be that stupid? The cast is simply creating a supply to what is obviously a $240,000 per episode demand. Isn't that just good business?

Maybe MTV has gone about the marketing in wrong way by trying to sell the audience on typical Italian stereotypes, but is the marketing really that wrong? They are just marketing entertainment, and obviously this type of train wreck entertainment had sold, is selling, and is going to continue to sell. Maybe rather than criticizing the cast and the show, people should choose not to watch if they don't want to take opportunity to view the show for what it is....entertainment. It's not real life. The cast is paid and they are paid to entertain. So instead of bitching and moaning that the show isn't politically correct and is offensive, viewers need to take it for what it is. It's a show with eight young  20-somethings who have taken financial advantage of a niche that's been at MTV for years, a 'reality' train wreck and the ratings have shown that sex and drunkenness sell...

I decided to come back and take another look at this after I heard from one of my followers that this post wasn't nearly what they were expecting. Maybe it's because I'm tired, maybe it's because I'm ill, but after taking a second look, the comment was correct. This post has been more like an essay and not a rant and that's just garbage. I owe it to each and every one of you to put my best foot forward. You don't have to to read this, and I don't have to post something that reminds me more of a steaming pile of elephant shit than something worth your time. So here we go. I said that people don't have to sit and watch 'The Shore' if they are going to bitch and moan about being offended. People need to quit being so damn sensitive. I've just realized that 'The Shore' isn't the root of the problem, the root of the problem is people. People think they are so damn entitled being able to openly suffer from an affliction that I commonly refer to as 'pussideous'.As it was recently explained to me, sometimes people just need to 'go to the ball store and buy a set'. Sack up and grow some skin. The way I see it, rather than running to mommy and complaining that you don't like something, maybe you should just get over it. I think the public needs to quit being a little bitch and take some responsibility for their actions and what kind of entertainment they view. Not to say there shouldn't be social programs to help people, but at some point, rather than just sitting back and blaming the banks and financial institutions for getting the nation into the shape that it is, shouldn't people have enough sense to have some foresight. Shouldn't people take responsibility for buying a house that they can't afford? Shouldn't people be smart enough to not borrow money just because some bank says they can? People got themselves into this mess just as much as anything else did. Maybe instead of spending money to spend money, people should learn to live within their means....So this brings me back to my original point. Rather than bitching and moaning about some 'reality' television show, maybe people should worry about fixing themselves and their fucked up lives rather than some 20 year old drunk kid who calls himself a guido....Again, the problem all comes back to the fact that people don't want to grow a sack and take responsibility for themselves...there is always something to bitch and complain to mommy about other than something that they can change themselves.....Grow up people

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Who is Jebidiah? What is the purpose of this blog with a picture of some jackalope? What am I doing here? These may be some of the questions that raced through your mind as you opened a link to my inaugural blog, but I am here to help answer some of those questions for you. Jebidiah....Jebidiah is my boy...my home boy....literally. Jebby and I have spent quite a bit of time together these past few years. He doesn't mind being home alone, but is always happy to see me when I come in the door from a long day at work. Although he may look slightly constipated, he claims he isn't. He says that's just how he is comfortable. Throughout the past four and a half years, Jebby hasn't changed much. He hasn't shown that the hand of age has touched him, much like it's done to the rest of us. He'll stay up all night watching sports, mindless reality television, or just anything else that's on television. His interests include collecting snowglobes, tall ship sailing, and spending long hours on the weekend thinking in silence while I'm away on any number of weekend road trips. Through all the ups and downs of moving to new places and seeing me leave him every weekend over the past two years, he hasn't complained even once. Not even a peep. Nothing. Jebidiah and I find common interests in watching baseball on summer nights, bitching and moaning about fantasy football, mindless dribble, and engaging each other in philosophical discussions. While many of you reading this blog may not be aware that I enjoy philosophical discussions, this is something that, until now, Jebidiah and I have chosen to only share with each other.

Onward then....For those of you who are still wondering what this is all about, congratulations and welcome. You've found the key to this whole thing you call my blog. In the future, we plan to share various athletic, entertainment, and social thoughts that Jebidiah and I have agreed to show the world. We encourage you to follow regularly, but not too regularly...I don't want any weird stalker stuff going on here. (Joe, that means don't check it every day) Again, welcome to our little slice of Al Gore's internet. Thanks for having us Al!!

And just a little something extra that Jebidiah and I have finally come to an agreement on, hail the good Commissioner Nelson!!