Tales of Dickery: Chris' Wedding

Something's missing...

Everybody’s favorite Nerduary wrangler, Chris, got married a few years back; and not too long before the nuptials, I made contact with the groom-to-be after a far too long period of non communication.

I emailed him after stumbling across his email address, and in his reply email he blurted out an invitation to the wedding:
“Dude, I’m getting married! You should come!”

Now, hindsight is always 20/20 (unless I’ve been drinking in which case it’s not even close to that) and I suppose that I should have gotten back to him with something like “Cool! When and where? I’ll be there!” But silly me, for some reason I thought that he’d send me the info as to insure that I’d be there for one of the best days in his life (that I was not a part of thank you very much).

But no. No further email, no time or date of the ceremony, no invite to the bachelor party or reception. Nada.

A couple of weeks go by and I see Chris and he’s all like “Oh, man I just got married. You should have been there!”

“I would have been but you never bothered to tell me when and where.” I said.

His face just went blank and he pitifully said “Oh, dude. I’m so sorry.”

And thus began my 2 year plus reign of dickery over Chris for not inviting me to the wedding. I’d do things like email him one of his own wedding pictures and ask him what was wrong with the picture or missing from it, only to inform him that it was me being absent or not being there at all. I asked him if he minded if I got Jake to Photoshop me into a few of the wedding photos. I would laugh at some of the stories that he told about the wedding day in front of people and then go, “Oh, wait. I wasn’t there. You forgot to invite me.” And on and on and on.

I thought about Photoshopping myself into this one...

And life was good. Finally, I had something that I could hold over his head and stop some rants and tirades in mid-sentence. I was never really a dick to Chris, after all he’s one of my best buds. But when I wanted/needed to be, I had the best way to get to him.

And it would still be that way if it were not for that damned Logan…

D

You play like you practice

As I drove back home from Savannah last Saturday afternoon after going through the CPAT practice a couple of times; I was dirty, sweaty, smelly, banged up, and tired as hell. And I absolutely loved it.

I was the first to go through it when they finished setting up about 45 minutes or so after I got there, and it was pretty much just myself and the firefighters out there at that point. So I had plenty of pressure, being the sole object of their scrutiny as I went through. All I wanted was just to finish the damned thing, and hopefully do it within the allotted 10 minutes and 20 seconds because let’s face it: Captain America I am not.

And finish I did. With over a minute to spare too. I’m a champion!

And knowing that I’d be fine even if I did it in that same amount of time every time through, I still wanted to do it better and faster. “I can do it faster”, I told my reader (the guy who accompanied me reading the instructions for each portion). What kind of idiot says that?

So I waited around for about a half an hour while a couple of other people went through the course, hoping to build up my energy again for another run at it because: 1. I’m retarded, 2. to make the trip worth it, and 3. I love that kind of shit. Time came for another go at it, and again I all I really wanted was to make sure I completed it in time, especially since I had already done it once. Plus I had some added incentive to not hurl in the middle of the course, as one of the Chiefs was out there with a video camera. “Candidate #37? Oh yeah! That’s the guy that barfed all over Randy the mannequin!”

This time out? I smoked my original time by almost 30 seconds.

Don’t know how the hell that happened. Guess it’s because I’d already been through it and knew the tricks for everything. But still, both I and my reader were pretty damned impressed. And for some unfathomable reason, the first words out of my mouth were “I can do it faster.” Seriously? Goddamnit…

But no more for me that day. 2 brutal/fun ass whippings were enough. It was time to go and take a nap. And then get really drunk.

I guess it’s fine if I want to continue to try and improve on my time during the practices, but I just have to remember to do everything properly and under time so I don’t get disqualified for something stupid.

I just can’t wait to go at it again this Saturday.

D

Killer Instinct

Killer instinct- a quality that great teams possess which allows them to put lesser teams away in the second half, thus ensuring victory.

I’ve said several times this year, some of them before and during the Tournament, that Carolina didn’t really possess that killer instinct or ability to really put other teams away when they needed to. That Carolina was the only team that could beat Carolina (except in overtime when everyone can beat them).

And despite that, I still picked them to win the National Title because I felt that Roy Williams (along with seniors Reyshawn Terry and Wes Miller) would be able to get his young Heels to focus down the stretch and put the last nail in their opponents’ coffins. That’s what I thought anyways, I mean he did it with the 2005 team that was mostly underclassmen.

But scoring only 1 basket in the last 8 minutes of the 2nd half and almost being blanked for all of overtime, showed that the Tar Heels still have a long way to go, and will need to look even deeper within themselves to find that killer instinct if they wish to play longer into March next year.

Well, I guess that goes for whoever decides to stay another year and not jump to the NBA. And if that happens, ol’ Roy will probably be starting all over again with another young team that may not have the experience to know when to put their opponents away.

D

Dirty mouth?

Forget Orbit,

use Galactica:

Lately I’ve been kinda cleaning up my language with the help of one of the Nerduary’s favorite shows, Battlestar Galactica.

What started off as a nerdy, little tribute to an awesome show; has grown into a full fledged addition to my lexicon now. I’ve replaced my much beloved and cherished “fuck”, with the more covert and stylish “frak” (and all the variations that accompany it).



I’ve been doing it long enough now that it comes out instinctively, and frequently, where its predecessor did before. Not that I don’t still pull out the big gun every now and then, I just save that one for special occasions.

And to further add to my nerd-word replacement, I switched the tried and true “goddamn” over to the Firefly-esque “gorram”. Been doing that one longer, but it just hasn’t taken off quite like “frak”.

Since we’re here, “shit” has been periodically temped by “shizza” solely because I think the word sounds funny. Yes, I know that the word is actually pronounced “Scheisse” (shy-sah); but “shizza” just has a ring to it.

So, while I’m far from being as pure as the driven snow, I’m at least not gonna have my mouth washed out with soap as often.

D

Save Knut

Although I’m all for animal rights and doing what’s best for animals in general, I don’t consider myself an “animal rights activist”. I’m really kind of an “animal rights prettymuchist”. But to these activists calling for little Knut’s death, I say “Fuck you guys.”

Do you go around calling for the death of all household dogs, cats, fish, birds, etc? Do you? They were all wild animals at one time only to be domesticated and go on to lead fulfilling and sometimes charitable lives. Now I’m not saying that they should domesticate little Knut, but they can probably get him into another zoo or something. I mean, isn’t that how many zoos are populated- with refugees or rescues from the wild?



And last I checked, polar bears were in the “threatened” area for conservation, so should we really be going around killing them all willy nilly? I mean, there’s seal pups for that.

And while I really was pissed off at the thought of poor, little Knut getting the lethal injection; this was also a half-assed attempt to finally get to use this picture in a post:



In the future when I rule the world, I shall have an army of polar bears patrolling the perimeter of my Antarctic compound… kind of like Mr. Freeze. However, that lazy-ass bear, Carl, will be fired for shirking his duties for the umpteenth time. Let’s see how he likes it when I send him to Greenland to live life unemployed and without a GED.

------

Well whaddaya know? 2 half-assed posts don’t always add up to a decent whole-assed post. Oh well, at least I got to talk about polar bears. They’re they world’s largest land predators, you know.

D

This just in: I wanna be in you.

The local news is always on one or more of the TVs at the gym when I go, so I’ve been catching most of the muted or closed captioned 6:00 broadcasts. One thing I’ve started noticing is that some of the local field reporters/news teams members are getting younger, and more importantly, hotter.

Christy

Brooke

Trish

Stephanie

Kelly (much hotter on TV)

I guess there’s just an influx of young talent coming into the Savannah market and the stations are trying to go with more attractive reporters in an attempt garner more viewers. Or at least male viewers. And some of the lesbians in the area. Possibly that, and the fact that maybe all these green reporters may be a little more cost effective for right now, rather than trying to hold on to more seasoned pros or replacing the ones they lose.

I dunno. Not being in the industry for so long has severely rusted up my insights and dried up my local resources pretty badly. But I do know this, broadcast news is a fickle and untamable animal really (kind of like a cat), so you never really know what to expect from day to day or even market to market.

Alls I know is that me likey the new eye candy.

D

Them Duke Boys are in trouble again…

This time up there in Cincinnati.

‘Dukes of Hazzard’ nixed in Cincinnati.

Alright, I may have a slight bias in this one, what with my being from Georgia and growing up on The Dukes of Hazzard and all; but come on! Does anyone really find that show to be racially insensitive or whatever the hell they’re claiming? I mean, seriously?

The only thing I can remember (and this is vaguely) that could even be remotely considered racist when you stretch it, is Billy Joe Fong (a friend of the Dukes, Billy Joe was a member of Hazzard’s oldest- and only- Chinese family, the Fongs).

Lo Pan himself, James Hong, played Billy Joe Fong:

Ok, admittedly this would have been bit racist if Billy Joe had looked like this…

And when I watch the show now, it seems to be poking more fun at the general Southern population as a whole, what with the over-exaggerating of the mannerisms and customs that can be prevalent down here. But I honestly can’t recall instances where they subtly (like they’d really out and out do it on national TV) sprinkled in a little racism here and there, you know- just for realism (that was sarcasm). That just wouldn’t fly anywhere. Especially from a protagonist, which is who you’d generally remember doing something like that as you’re supposed to look up to them.

But like I said, I’m probably a little biased on this one. If I’m wrong, call me on it. It’s always nice to get another opinion, even if you run the risk of ruining another chunk of my dwindling childhood. Just like the time Chris showed me there was porn in The Care Bears Movie. But at least that was funny.

D

Heh heh heh…. “Cooter”.

Heel Yeah!

I really overdosed on Guinness and basketball this weekend, but it was totally worth it.

I'm still alive in the Paul's Poop bracket group (where everyone is a poophead), 'cause I'm 6th and still have a good number of my teams left (along with all my Final 4). In fact, I'm pretty good with teams like Vandy and Tennessee making me look like a genius, but teams like Texas and Wisconsin are making me look like Forrest Gump. But if Carolina can finally find a way to start putting teams away early in the second half, I'll be even happier.

Maybe I just need to repost my lovely assistant's picture again to boost the guys' morale or somethin'.

If this doesn't work, I'm banning the bitch.

D

Drunken Escapades: Issue #4: A full 8 hours of work

Just do what the banner says and no one gets hurt...

To honor tomorrow's observance of one of the sacred Holy Days, I present to you the gift of a "Drunken Escapade". Please enjoy it responsibly. And


HAPPY ST. PATTY'S DAY, BOYOS & LASSES.

A full 8 hours of work

Going away parties are usually fun. But they’re even more fun when it’s just 3 people taking off early from work and heading straight to the bar to have a few drinks. And it’s way, way more fun when all 3 of you put in a full work day (and a little overtime) of drinking at the bar and just get utterly annihilated.

Such was the going away party that Zeke and I had for David on his last day working with us.

Zeke and I had worked with David for almost a year but never really knew him. He was a co-worker, so he was automatically kept a tad at bay. But the weeks leading up to him quitting and the weeks after he quit made David instantly more likeable in Zeke and my eyes. Basically, he gave our boss a big ol’ “Fuck you” when she said he wasn’t doing his job to her satisfaction, and he quit. That made him a brother to us.

So on his last day, which still goes down as one of the least productive days of work I’ve ever had, David basically refused to let Zeke and I get any work done. Twist our arms, I know. And around lunch time, David basically said “Fuck it, I’m out. And you guys are coming with me.” So we did.

We three amigos went up to The Hat and had lunch and a few drinks, which ended up turning into dinner (read “more drinks”) and some more drinks (is that “more, more drinks”?).

We sat in the same booth and watched as table after blurry table sat down, ate, and left all through the day and night. In that work day I think that David consumed more rum than anyone who’s not a pirate should ever be able to, Zeke was probably the most hammered I’ve ever seen him except for at his going away party at The Hat, and I completely became Liquid Courage somewhere after my 7th or 8th big beer.

We were there long enough to have some of our student workers from the office come in for dinner and drinks, at which point David told Jacob that his girlfriend was “so hot”. Zeke and I both heartily agreed too (“So fuckin’ hot, man!”). Jacob being the coolest motherfucker we’ve ever met, just said “I know.” And later on he and his smokin’ hot girlfriend (who was also a student worker) came over and invited us to go to another bar just up the street to hang out with them for a while.

So the 3 of us decide to drive up the road to the next bar and hang out with the younglings. (PSA: Don’t drink and drive, kids. It kills. And sometimes leads to really funny stories. But mostly kills.) We get up there and we don’t spend a dime, because they bought us shots and drinks for the whole time we were up there. I vaguely remember being there, and the only clear things are playing a little Golden Tee and wanting to bitch about taking shots of SoCo and lime, but I couldn’t because they were free.

We’ve got to be pushing 10 or 11 hours of boozing at this point when either they kicked us out or we decided to take our leave. And for some reason, none of the 3 of us bothered to call for a ride. (Again, drinking and driving = bad) We all figure that we’re not as retarded as we actually were and decide to drive home. Zeke hangs a right out of the lot with the shortest distance to go. David and I take a Louie and head out in the same direction because we lived close to each other. David and I actually drive pretty well with the exception of I was concentrating really hard on him, so every time he weaved, so did I. I even made the exact same wide-ass left hand turn at a traffic light as he did right by his house. I was concentrating so hard on following David that I accidentally pulled into his complex and was about to park when I realized “Ummm… this isn’t where I live. Is it?” It wasn’t, so I had to finish the journey home solo.

I remember getting home that night and wishing that I had just parked and slept in that other parking lot, because I got a royal ass chewing from my girlfriend for driving home that freaking bombed.

I called Zeke and David the next morning to make sure that they were ok and that everybody made it home in one piece. Zeke did but had gotten a treatment similar to mine from his wife, and David just wished that I had driven over him because of how shitty he felt from his shiny, new hangover. Needless to say both of them cussed me out and hung up the phone when I asked them if they wanted to go have a beer.

D

It’s the Final Fourdown!

Do do do doo… do do do do dooo… do do do doo… sorry.

Allrighty, I finally got my picks done at just about the last possible minute for them to count over in Paul's bracket competition. I played it relatively safe this year with only a few upsets (I still maintain that a 9 over an 8 isn't an upset) here and there. But I’ve boiled my Final Four down to:

Florida
Kansas
UNC
Texas A&M

I know, I doubt that 3 #1 seeds will actually make it, but that’s how badly I roll. But down to the nitty gritty: who’s gonna be our eventual National Champion?

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

With a little help from my lovely assistant, Miss Antonella Barba, I present the 2007 NCAA Men’s Basketball Champion:

The University of North Carolina

I still think that the only team that can beat Carolina is Carolina, and they’ll be able to keep the ship right for the next 6 games. Plus, I wanted an excuse to be able to use that picture. Sue me.

D

Pick 'Em

Frak! I still haven't made my damned Tourney picks. Gotta get on that...

D

I’m a champion!

God I love that one.

D

“We’re talking about practice, man.”

Last night was the first of what will be many, short trips to Savannah in the upcoming months.

The Savannah Fire Department held a mandatory informational meeting about the written test and the CPAT (Candidate Physical Ability Test). It was mostly about what to expect, how to prepare, and also to answer any general questions about the hiring process and requirements. I really didn’t learn too much that I didn’t already know, with the exception of that even though the testing is in early June, the hiring/starting date probably won’t be until September. Awe. Some.

But, we did get what I was really hoping for, which was a chance to do a walk-through on the CPAT course and being able to actually get our hands on a few sections of the test:

- The 50 lb vest we’ll have to wear during the entire course (add 25 more lbs for the Stair Climbing portion)

- Randy, the mannequin for the Rescue portion

- The little, 10 lb sledge hammer we’ll use during the Forcible Entry portion

Let me just tell you this: Randy’s no joke. That guy is 165 lbs of pure, dead weight. And dragging his fake ass to, around, and from a barrel on concrete and asphalt will kick your ass. Even though I’m most worried about the stair climbing portion (which everyone says is the worst part by far), that fucker Randy has moved into the #2 spot easily.

So in addition to what I’m already doing at the gym, I’ll be spending as many Saturday mornings in Savannah practicing the CPAT in order to get everything down and improve my time. Not that how fast you complete the course matters. As long as you complete it in under 10 minutes and 20 seconds, you pass. It’s your written test scores that need to be high. The higher those are (and if you pass the CPAT), the better your chances of getting hired, or at least hired early.

So I have to brush up on my reading comprehension as well as put myself through the paces at the gym and on the practice course. And you know, I’m actually looking forward to practice right now... but we’ll see how long that lasts.

D

After I told him that practicing the CPAT every weekend was actually going to be fun for me, Chris said “Dude, you’re pretty much training to be an Avenger. That’s awesome.”

Put out an AmberBock Alert!!!

MISSING PERSON

Missing Since: December 20, 2006

Name: Liquid Courage
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 190
Hair: very short blonde (due to fire mishap)
Eyes: blue and often bloodshot
Last Seen Wearing: jeans, white t-shirt, hunting cap & water wings

Could Be In The Company Of:

&

If you have any knowledge of his whereabouts, please email whereislc@yahoo.com.

If found, he needs his "medication". And probably some hot wings.

Dance Dance Revolution

Damn, is it that time of year again already? Really sneaks up on a brother sometimes.

So the brackets are out, Carolina won the ACC Tourney and secured a #1 seed (in the most difficult region as per usual), and I’m still perfect on my picks so far. All is right with the college basketball world. But I’m sure that’ll all change in 3 days or so.

In the interest of time (mine, not yours) and since I’m not all that wordy this morning, I decided to have us hop in the way-back machine and take a look at last year’s March Madness coverage here on "Screw Big, Dumb American!":

Dancing with 2 left feet…

The Fantastic Final Four

*sigh*… buncha assholes

Hulk smash puny, human Derek’s brackets


I haven’t set my picks for this year yet, and I also haven’t decided if I want to try and host the 2nd Annual Blogger Madness- which I would be doing seeing as how The Princess Hiker has vacated this particular plane of existence. So to quote the incomparable Fred Tollver, I’ve got “a little drinkin’ and a little thinkin’” to do on the subject.

But this year, as I was in 2005, I feel a lot more confident in my pick of North Carolina going all the way, so I've just got to set my other 3 from the Final Four and build around that. Just don’t expect another Fantastic Final Four-type post on my picks. That slice of awesomeness may never be replicated on this dingy, little blog. At least by me anyways.

D

And all together now: 1, 2, 3…

Happy Birthday, Brody!

The Future Overlord is now 5. And while I didn’t go and get him all liquored up and hire a prostitute, I did what could be considered the next best thing of giving him lots of scratchings, treats, and a chew bone that never stood a chance.

Maybe I’ll consider the booze and bitches a little more seriously next year. Or maybe that'll be my birthday.

So anyways... Happy Birthday, son. Daddy loves you.

D

3's a crowd

After watching Tommy and Kelley’s dog, Gus, for the weekend; I’ve decided to pull the emergency brake on seriously considering getting another dog. Not that Gus was bad or anything (aside from eating my flip flops, which was my bad for forgetting to move them); I just realized how much I take The Future Overlord being just like me for granted.

He’s as OCD about things as I am; and has our routines about going out, eating, playing, sleeping, etc down to a science. It’s to the point that he knows some of that shit better than I do. I think he has a furry, little PDA hidden on him somewhere that he checks when I’m not looking.

So to throw another dog into that Olympic-caliber routine would just completely piss one or both of us off. Now I just need to see about watching someone’s kitten for a weekend as a test run for that…

D

UPDATE:

The dog-sitting service continues as now I'll be watching Turner's dog, Winston, while he goes to Bike Week for a couple of days and nights.

Winston lovin' it up on a rugby ball.

Tales of Dickery: "And I quote Kermit the Frog..."

Very few times have I looked back on a bit of dickery and felt some sort of guilt only to be followed up by a sort of righteous ire because really, if anyone deserved dickery, it would be that person. That day, that person was Lando.

“And I quote Kermit the Frog…”
Zeke and I were bullshitting around with Lando down in Lando’s own private Cloud City of an office one day. And Lando is just going on about golf, his old stomping grounds, his fraternity, or maybe his big foreheaded wife; who knows. He’s just going on and I get up out of my chair and walk across the office to his bookshelf where he has all his personal items and decorations.

I pick up a framed quote from a beloved green amphibian, one Kermit the Frog, and proceed to read it aloud: “It’s hard to be green.”

“What the fuck? That’s not how it goes. ‘It’s hard to be green’? Hahahaha. It’s supposed to be, and I quote Kermit the Frog, ‘It’s not easy being green.’ Man, who fucked this one up? Framed it and everything.”

Lando: “…. My dad made that for me….”

Me: “Oh…well… it’s still wrong.”

Zeke: *laughing*
----

Kermit remembers fondly some of his own dickery inflicted on those two pricks, Statler & Waldorf.

Ah, a short bit of dickery for you. And not the last to be visited upon good ol’ Lando either.

D

UPDATE:

Zeke reminded me that no too long after this happened, Lando's father passed away. So my dickery was truly about as dickerish as you could get. That's actually Zeke's favorite part of the whole story. I'm a tad more compassionate than he is on this one. I've gotta say that my favorite part of the story is the "Man, who fucked this one up? Framed it and everything.” part.

D

The Terrible Twos

Well I'll be damned. This crappy little blog has made it to 2 years. I think that's like 18 in blog years, right? Guess I should get little SBDA drunk and find a hooker or something to help make him a man. Isn't that how it's done? I think so. I'm gonna be an awesome dad.

Happy birthday, little buddy.

D

All I got for my 18th birthday was a lecture and the Want Ads. You're getting this. And possibly herpes.