Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Monday, March 27, 2006
The George Mason Patriots did it AGAIN!!! TWICE!!!!
Un-fucken real! George Mason, one of the schools that Billy Packer and Jim Nance bitched about like 2 house hens are now in the Final Four. Friday night they beat a would-be vegenance driven Wichita State (Mason beat them at home early in the season) in a game where Mason never lost the lead. That was surprising. But for the Patriots to beat the almight University of Conneticutt, a team that recruits internationally, is just unfathomable. On the radio this morning they are talking about this game being the greatest David vs Goliath of all time. U Conn is a bigger team and yet
Mason out rebounded them. U Conn held Mason to 3 points off of the bench, yet Mason's starters all scored in double figures. Phenomenal.
I'm not one of those "you can do anything you want...follow your dreams". Yet on this weekend, George Mason goes to the Final Four and my cousin premiered her 1st movie (check out my other entry).
Maybe the "you can do anything you want...follow your dreams" way of thinking is garbage, but it speaks volume of what you can do if your best effort is put forward. The heart can be a mighty hunter.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Yeah, so if I think about sex with a woman, I get these little quick tremors. This mainly occurs in the shoulders and neck. I was told by this woman that not only do I do that, but there is this curious pattern:
1.) I won't be able to finish a sentence
2.) I look off into space
3.) I turn my head and grunt
I think this week will be a good time to start going back to the mosque. I am BUGGIN'!
Sunday, March 19, 2006
For those of you sleepin' on the Cindafellas:
Yes!! The green and gold got their man all weekend long. First with the so-called upset over Michigan State, then with the for real for real upset over the Baby Blue Boys Of North Carolina. Mason got off to a crappy start with a 16 to 2 deficit in the first half led by Jai Lewis and Folarin Campbell. After the 2nd half, the two teams exchanged the lead half a dozen times only to have the Patriots pull head for the win.
This is the 1st time GMU has ever gone to the Sweet 16 and only the 2nd time a team from their conference has gone that far.
A little history about me and GMU....I went there for 7 years for my engineering degree only to flunk out with 40 credits left. Ain't that a bitch? how stupid is that? Anyway, when I went there, the team sucked ass. Mason's rival school is James Madison U, who used to kick our asses all the time. Here's how sucky the Mason was back then; they used to play all these exhibition games against bs teams like Mobile One Oil because they sucked so bad. One of those teams was this Russian team. They came to VA sick as dogs; the whole team caught the flu on the way over there and they could only suit 4 kats. They still played the game, and beat Mason. Yes, 7 brothas, 3 white boys, and a David Justice couldn't beat 4 non-American white boys. Trife.
That was a long time ago; and today, that memory makes today's memory that much sweeter. To borrow a phrase from my illegitimate dad, Telly Savalas, "You've come a long way baby."
Friday, March 17, 2006
Until this year. This is the first time I've made a conscious effort to celebrate the "holiday". Here are the steps I've taken:
1.) Attempting to get a shamrock tee shirt from Target
2.) downloading some Irish music to listen to throughout the course of the day
3.) drinking green beer for the 1st time ever. EVER.
Here the steps that were thwarted:
1.) All of the shirts were sold out and the best match was a Mickey's shirt, and that was 3 sizes to small. I did manage to pull out my ratty green Mecca shirt. It works in the pinch.
2.) found some Irish music, but I damn sure wasn't going to spend my workday listening to the O'Leary Boys or the Black Irish. I was thinking more of like the House of Pain, U2, or the Dropkick Murphys.
3.) There is still an opportunity to do this. Not sure where or how since I have Daddy Duty tonight, but we shall see.
The only thing missing would be some Irish poon-poon. I know one Irish-German chic...(I think she counts) but my chances with her are slim. Ahhh! There is a hot number that we all know by the name of Blonde who is Irish.....looks like I will be making a phone call TO-night! Gotta get my St Patty's Day one way or another, right?
Some Shamrock po-nanny would be nice, but I will tell you all a story about my best St. Patty's Day memory. It was about 6 years ago and a bunch of us computer geeks from work decided to go to the Bahamas. The day before St. Patty's, we booked the trip. To celebrate the next day, HotRod (one of the nerds) invited a bunch of folks over his house for drinks. That was the first time I got a (damn, I forgot the term. Its when you lay down and someone pours liquor in your mouth until you make them stop) _____. You talk about fucked up?? Whew! Took me hours to recouperate. The best part was watching the girls do it. The ones that didnt do it well (very few) got it all over the front of their tops...hhehehe...yeah. **smile**
I'm glad you all are enjoying my continued demise. All I was doing was trying get a little some-some on the side. I guess that what I get, huh? Geez, the Pimp Juice done gone sour.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Besides my hot wannabe love affair with Heidi Martin, some women you should just stay clear of. I’m one of the more hardier kats on the East Coast, but even I can’t deal with a select few. I never tell you all about my personal life and I’ve been misbehaving lately; one of the reasons why I haven’t blogged in a while. Of course, karma is a bitch with big ass teeth.
So I’ve been getting all hot and heavy with this hottie I met on the Internet in AZ. Fits the BK’s profile: Latina, Coke bottle figure and just enough attitude to be interesting.
And so the dance begins. I IM her, she IMs me. We probe each other about very every day things and I gradually stir up her curiosity about my sexual prowess and let it simmer on her brain like gumbo. Each day, I break down her barriers gradually. She diggin’ me, I’m diggin’ her. Then the faux pas……
I told her we would have some very pretty Blatino kids. “Blatino? What’s that?”
ME: “Hehehehe, that’s the ghetto term for Black and Latino biracial children.”
TheCutter: Hmmmm….uh, how about no?
ME: Ok ok. I was just messin’ with you…..kinda.
So things are no longer tantalizing. Merely, interesting. One of the main things that kicked off the possibilities was her making a trip to DC for work. There was still talk of the hot and bothered rendez vous, but something didn’t seem right. I realized that I needed to hit the bag of tricks.
Her long weekend in DC arrives, I met her at the hotel lobby and we are off. I play reluctant tour guide as I grew up in the area so none of the stuff is a big deal to me. We go get some lunch, that’s cool. No more references to blatino offspring. Smart. It starts to get dark and I’m a little gassed behind all the driving and touring. She agrees that we go back to the hotel room so I can rest and she can freshen up. She heads to the bathroom and is what seems like teasing me in reference to my subtle yet aggressive advances. So I do a quick check…..
Smellum (cologne): check
Foot odor: tolerable
Ball cheese: ehhhh….oral was probably out of the question anyway.
She comes out. Hmmm…no hot ass nightie. No naughty school girl outfit, no belly dancer outfit. A pair of sweats and a tee. Uh oh. This ain’t lookin’ good.
In a panic, I go straight for the jugular; literally. She seems receptive, but out of the blue I get the “hey pal” double pat on the chest….pat…pat “YOU’D, better get going. I have some stuff to take care of and I need some privacy.” And while I’m gaping at her speechless (yeah, ME speechless) she’s leading me towards the door with all of the cordialities and pleasantries one would expect of a blonde haired, blue-eyed debutante, which she ain’t. The next thing I know I’m in the hallway facing the door. Not even her door, the one on the opposite side of the hallway. How in the SHIT did THAT happen???
I’m all banged up at this point. “I knew something was wrong, but what the hell was it?” I go home, read thru the emails, listen to any possible unsaved voice mails; I even went back thru the notes that we sent each other on the meeting site (yes, that spot will remain unnamed). Nothing.
Then I remember myself staring at her pics, then glancing at the some of the stuff she had on her page. “I was born and raised in Phoenix, but my folks are from Bolivia and Venezuela…”
“…I like hangin with my girls, dancin’…”
“blah blah blah”
Then it hit me; “Important Stats”
Birthday: April 11, 1974…..
Copyright 2006, Son. All Rights Reserved and shit.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Alright enough of that shit. But I am phoneless and that will be for another 4 or 5 days looks like. Also, I didnt even make the cut for Baltimore's Mosh Pit; the place where students compete for venture capital seed money. Its one thing not to win, but to not even make the cut? Man I was blown. I can't to see the ideas that made it because mine was pretty damn good. Last year's winner had the idea to have digital map kiosks all over the city for tourists to use to get around. Gimmie a fucken break.
The good news is days like this are great fodder for working out. I will be on the weight bench thinking about the narrow-ass bitch man who sent me the bulk email saying "Even though you didn't make the cut, don't give up on your dreams..." How about this, how about I catch you in the alley and don't give up on whoppin' yo ass? how bout THAT!??
The weather is getting nicer and the HON-NEYS be out, SON! There is this one girl who I saw yesterday; no coat on and it was cold and windy.
ME:Girl, where is your coat?
HER:It's right here **nodding towards arm**
ME:And uh....WHY is it not on you?
HER:**giggling** It's nice out here! **walking opposite direction**
Then I got to check her out. You know, the wintertime be hiding stuff. We just exchanged names recently, and I don't know where she is from. Wherever she's from, SOME brotha snuck up in the gene pool because she had a str8-up apple dumplin'. "Whoa" was my response. And this year I have a digital cam?? WHAT???? Life is about to get TRIFE!
Ok. I'm going to go drown my sorrow with my man, Jack. He is one of the Daniels boys. He got a cousin name Evan who is mad cool too. He may join the party at some point in time.
I'll let y'all know how the hangover goes. I'm out.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Thursday, March 02, 2006
What's up monkeys? BK's latest development; stuck on Bastard. That basically means that whatever I seem to do, I get the bastard designation and its coming mostly from the finer species. Umm. Why a bastard? I think because I've reached an age where if a problem arises and I think I can't resolve it, I kind of take it with a grain of salt. This really seems to upset women; the fact that you are not as upset as they are. Case in point; I have a classmate who apparently had a shitty day at work. During the day, she asked me to come by and help her with her homework. I told her, and I quote "we are pretty busy today, so please don't hold your breath." Didn't get a chance to make that. When I saw her last night in class, I got the eyes AND neck rolling. You white guys don't know nothin' about that, but when you get the neck added to eye roll, you are about to get it. And the brothas know what's next: one hand on the hip and the other with the index finger prominently pointing in air at shoulder height rotating. "Hey, sorry I didnt make it Un-hotChristianAmazon. We were really busy...."
Un-hotChristianAmazon: **eye rolling begins, followed by the neck roll, which quickly conjoins the postion** Umm hmmm! I see how it is. Ask BK for a little help, and he "pretends" like he busy at work. That's aight though. You KNOW Imma remember that!"
Now what gives me the Bastard designation is my reaction. I have this reaction to all things "Hmm. I guess that's a problem, huh?", I laugh.
Not a sinister "Hahahaha dumbass!", but a reactionary, "Oh man this is awkward" laugh. The problem with that is, those who know me personally know that I laugh frequently and stay on Jokes. So when I laugh, the first thought is one of condescension. It comes with 10+ years of marriage. As a man, we are reactionary. You can either get defensive, offensive,laugh, cry, or knock the shit out of the woman. I usually take the 3rd option which has seemed to be almost as detrimental as the any of the rest.
So that's been me all week, the Bastard, El Híbrido, Le Hybride. **shrug** I'm just old to be sweating every detail. I'm turning into my grandfather; the answer to a woman's needs is either with your wallet or you best David Copperfield impression.