obligatory year in review post

everyone has these kinds of posts. end of the year. what did i do? what did i not do? how did i become a better person? it eventually goes to the point where you question your existence and whether the year was worthwhile to your purpose of living. luckily, for my audience consisting of two people who randomly stumbled across this post or the six of you who are trying to dig up some dirt on my life as if this was still high school, i don't think that deeply. yeah, i will recall some of the things i did during the year, but it's not going to be very philosophical. straight, and to the point. (that's what she said...haha). if you don't want to read this whole, drawn-out post about my year. i'll give it to you in two words: it sucked.

2007 was not the greatest year for me. it wasn't the worst (close third to 2000, 2005, and maybe 2002), but it certainly was not the best. 2007 was all about change. one year ago, i had a steady girlfriend whom i loved, a shitty car, and i could still claim purity of some sort. now, as i write today, i have an ex-girlfriend who can go fuck herself, a nice new car, and a first-class ticket to hell. my what a year can do you.

but i vow that 2008 will be a much better year. it has to be since 2007 could not have gotten much worse with personal and family issues. i've come to the realization that my life is beginning to waste itself away and that if i do not take control with what i want to do, it will slip away and be forever gone. so my new year's resolution is this: in addition to exercising more and being a better person, i want to do things that are memorable. this should be the time of my life folks. i need the motivation to get out and do shit with my life before i'm confined to an office for the rest of my life.

and with that being said, hopefully 2008 will be filled with exciting adventures and unforgettable moments.

PLAYOFFS?!?!?

congratulations redskins. you did it. you managed to yet again run the table and get into the playoffs. job well done considering the circumstances. despite everything, you held your head high and withstood adversity when it swamped this team. you guys had a perfectly good excuse to go ahead and lie down, and everyone would have been fine with that. but look at you now. 9-7 and a playoff berth.

never would have dreamed of it.

but how the hell does a team lose a game 52-7, calls two timeouts in a row, loses six of their key starters, and yet manage to make the playoffs? apparently, every other team in the NFC is really bad or felt sorry for the redskins. i highly doubt the latter could ever be conceivable, but you never know.

open letter to the washington redskins

dearest redskins,

here we are. it's the day after christmas and we're talking playoffs. this doesn't happen every year. in fact, the words "redskins" and "playoffs" don't usually make sense in december. rather we've grown accustomed to the words "quarterback change" and "building for the future." but no, redskins, you've surprised us all, even your most diehard fans. and through all the trials and tribulations of the season, we're sitting pretty right now with the sixth seed.

redskins, you guys remind me of hooking up with a drunk slut*. it's like as if you see a hot girl at the party. you are compelled to talk to her because of her sexiness coupled with the fact that she's staring you down and has got her eye on you. you begin to talk to her and things go well. next thing you know, you're hooking up with the chick. and it's like "oh my god, i'm hooking up with a hot chick. go me!" but as soon as you finish and you wake up the next morning, you realize that the hot chick isn't as attractive as you thought and she doesn't even remember your name. you think it's all over but then at the next party, you see her again, and to be frank, you simply rinsed and repeated. and again, you wake up and say, "why the fuck did i sleep with her again?!?!" but this time she tells you she has an std and you're left to contemplate your existence on this earth.

don't deny it, redskins, you're exactly like that. you teased us all with that 2-0 start. we had some great feelings. but then you inexplicably called two goalline runs at the end of the giants game which helped us lose. you then beat the shit out the lions, and although they may be the lions, whipping a team 34-3 feels pretty good. and then the roof fucking falls in when you lose to the patriots by 45, you need a field goal in overtime to be a team that's currently 3-12, and you throw interceptions on pivotal drives to lose two games. when you think it can't get much worse, your star safety dies, you call two timeouts in a row, and lose the starting quarterback with a gruesome knee injury. it might only seem like football, but this was your std moment, and if you were a real person, redskins, you would have slit your wrists before thanksgiving.


however, something changed. the redskins decided to stop hooking up with skanks and get with a steady girl (todd collins) instead. and it's been wonderful for those four short weeks. things have been great, but you need to decide whether this is a fling or if you should take it to the next level. she's a great girl and all, but there is a reason behind why her greatest feature is the fact that she is caring and compassionate.

so here's the deal skins, you've got the cowboys this week. win and you're in. lose and pray to god minnesota and new orleans lose as well. are you ready to take that next step with todd collins? because todd collins is and he's ready to give the world and so much more to you. the ball's in your court redskins. don't fuck this up.

chief zee will straight up murder your ass if you mess this up, skins.

sincerely,

the entire washington dc metro area

* - entirely fictional.

thanks to the washington times and drunk university for their pics.

happy holidays

merry christmas to the five readers out there. hope its a good one.

if i need to write something poignant, then it will be up here. otherwise, enjoy the holidays.

POWER rankings: volume 1

RRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! in a way to spice up this site, i've decided to create some power rankings that chronicles the happenings in my life not mentioned on this blog into a weekly/monthly/yearly power rankings mumbojumbo. these are based on what's important in my life and i do not care what you think, your views are surely petty and worthless.


1) CHRISTMAS. last week: 10 change: +9

i fucking hate christmas but its the biggest thing happening this week. everyone's going around like fucking maniacs getting presents and other aesthetically pleasing things for the families and loved ones. don't get me wrong here. i love christmas. it's my favorite holiday by far. however, christmas is like alcohol. it makes you do things you soon regret. for example, i had to go to a fabric store today whose name i will not give out (michael's) to get fabric for this present. i looked like a lost boy trying to find fabric, only to be told that fabric is not sold there. thanks dumb bitch, i now know that after i've wandered aimlessly in your store for an hour.

2) SLEEPING IN. last week: 89 change: +87

i get to sleep in during winter break. i absolutely love it.

3) FINDING A JOB. last week: 6 change: +3

i have to find a job/internship for this summer. now that i'm home, the scrutiny intensifies and the pressure mounts from the parents go get one. i'm starting to send my resume out to sports teams and organizations i want to work for. so we'll see how that goes. as long as i don't coach kids, serve food, be someone's bitch, or work on cars, i'll be happy.

4) PICKUP BASKETBALL. last week: NR change: through the roof

i'm starting to play basketball again with my friends once again. i played a lot over the summer, honed my street skills, and now i lost them in the process of flag football. expect this one to stay up there for awhile, because i have a feeling i'll be doing a lot it over break. (that's what she said)

5) CHEESECAKE FACTORY. last week: 171 change: +166

i went to the cheesecake factory for dinner this week and it was fucking delicious. it was so good. if you have never been to the cheesecake, then i suggest you get yourself to one as soon as possible. if you're reading this in place as crappy as south carolina, well then it sucks for you. definitely go. they have great food. but make sure to take a friend who won't ask you about your personal life.

ROUNDING OUT THE TOP 10:

6) MAINTENANCE REQUIRED LIGHTS last week: NR
7) THE HUMPTY DANCE last week: 45
8) WASHINGTON REDSKINS last week: 4
9) METRO last week: 68
10) HOCKEY last week: didn't exist

FALLING FAST:

- FINALS
- FANTASY FOOTBALL
- COLLEGE

hockey does exist!

out of sheer boredom from being home for winter break, i went to a washington capitals game the other night. not the washington wizards, the best basketball in all the land, but the fucking washington capitals, the local hockey team. (apparently, hockey still exists, and i wasn't aware of it) but kidding and jokes aside, i went to go see the caps play against the montreal canadiens. going into the game, i learned quite a few things about hockey that are true and some things that are not:

1) hockey apparently survived into the 21st century. damnit. fuck. cock. balls. that wasn't supposed to happen.
2) more than 12 people show up to games. there were about 13,000 out of 20,000 at the phone booth that night. not too shabby.
3) the citizens of canada are not the only players of hockey. other countries play it too and they enjoy it just as much. suck it frozen ponds of manitoba.
4) the capitals have more than two players. before that night, all i knew were ovechkin and some black dude who doesn't look like he belongs. now the capitals have a full team except that no cares.
5) the capitals are better off the ice and than on. the fucking caps lost 5-2 to montreal but the day before managed to tear shit up on segways as shown below: (thanks to dc sports bog and steinzzz)

6) hockey isn't that bad. perhaps i'll go to another game in the near future.

stillmatic

another semester. another 4.0.

still got it. so clutch.

i fucking hate fantasy football

fantasy football is finally over. thank god. i was eliminated last night with a painful loss to the most inconsistent team in my league. his team fucking blows and he ended up catching me on one of my bad weeks. i'm not that mad about it, i didn't expect to go this far with my team, but this is the second year in a row where i fall flat on my face in the playoffs. it's total bullshit. and yet again, i lost to an inferior team that will get their shit rocked in the championship. but all i have to say is thank god this season is over.

this is probably the worst season i've ever had. my team, rhymes with shmashmortion, was doomed from the start. i fucked up the draft, i nearly fucked up a significant trade in the preseason when i opened my big mouth, i cruised to a 5-2 start thanks in part to ronnie brown, and then was fucked by injuries. speaking of injuries, i had the worst injuries, i lost all three of my running backs during the season, which forced me to become incredibly desperate for backs. i stupidly traded away some great players and if i still had them, everything would have worked out for the best. i'm usually well-renowned for ripping people off in trades, as i did last year and in the first part of this year. but in the latter part of the season, i was getting ripped off, getting pieces of shit in some deals.

next thing i know, i started freaking out over injuries, and i find myself at5-4, on the outside looking in, when i willed myself to win against the best team in the league. and then i guaranteed a win against a 3 win team and proceeded to get rocked. at 6-5 and not in a great position to get a playoff spot, i won the last two games to get the division crown yet again and get that bye i needed in the playoffs. but of course, it never works out because i lost again. next year, i'm going to be fucking smart about the fantasy shit. i'm going all the way.

but now since fantasy has ended, i can finally enjoy football games. no longer, will i have to obsess about statistics of marginal players. i don't have to scream every time the ball is in the air. i don't have to talk smack to a team that does not care about their individual performance on the field. now i'll have something else to do during sundays, instead of watching every game because i have a wide reciever on my fantasy team playing in the game.

so i'd like to say thanks to the following players for actually performing on my team:

- ben roethlisberger until i traded you
- derek anderson
- ronnie brown for the first seven games of the season
- frank gore for that 40-point week
- kevin curtis for that 60-point week and being my favorite player this year
- bernard berrian for catching deep bombs
- roddy white
- jacksonville jaguars defense

and i'd like to give big FUCK YOU'S to the following players for ruining my season:

- carson palmer - fuck you for being a shitty second round pick
- larry johnson - fuck you for being a complete fucktard
- kolby smith - fuck you for blowing up when i benched you
- fred taylor - fuck you for letting me trade you for the sex cannon
- rex grossman - GO FUCK YOURSELF REX. I HATE YOU THIS MUCH RIGHT NOW.
- ronnie brown - fuck you for getting injured.
- roy williams - fuck you for being useless. and i thought you were good.
- dallas clark - fuck you for being a big fat pussy.
- roddy white - fuck you for fumbling balls, dropping passes, and showing support for mike vick.
- lee evans - fuck you for making me trade you

but most of all,

FUCK YOU JESSE CHATMAN YOU FUCKING CUNTFACE. YOU RUINED MY SEASON YOU GODDAMN BITCH. YOU STARTED THIS WHOLE DOMINO EFFECT SO YOU CAN GO GRAB A STICK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR BUTT.

as for losing, give me a couple of weeks to get over it. i wanted that fantasy championship so badly. maybe next year is the year, like it always is.

my toes: an issue of national security

so i have a huge secret to tell everyone: i have big toes.

not that you could have noticed anyway. it's not like i wear sandals all the time so you can see this fingers that are attached to my feet. but anyway, my toes are a part of who i am and what makes me unique. i don't really know of anyone else with toes like mine. they're like an extra set of hands and could be really helpful in the future if i ever lose any of my arms (knock on wood).

i don't really have a problem with my toes. never have. i actually like them a lot. but other people do. whenever i wear sandals, which is often, they're an eyesore for some people. its been that way since high school. people have always commented on my toes as if they're some freakish attribute that should qualify me to travel as a freakshow. i would show you a picture, but as i looked for one from high school, i realized how much of a loser i was. regardless of a picture, the toes were always a conversation piece and even earned me the nickname of "toes."

i didn't really mind the people always asked about them, but people usually acted really dumb about it. for example, this conversation would be typical of ones that i would have about my toes

person: whoa dude you have really big toes
me: yeah, i do
person: they're like fingers man!
me: yeah, definitely man
person: so can you pick stuff up with them?
me: um...sometimes
person: hey ______, come over here and look at this kid's toes
person 2: oh my god, they're so long
me: well thank you douchebag*
person 2: you should really wear shoes
me: ok cuntface, hey maybe you should maybe you can stick your face in a box and deliver it.*
person: dude, that was so gross

* - not really said, but looking back, that would have been really cool if i actually said that.

anyway, the point i'm aimlessly trying to get to is that the subject of my toes came up again this week. i was playing loaded questions with some friends and there's this one girl in particular who's dumber than a bag of rocks. honestly, terri schiavo would be smarter than her, if she were still alive. the girl had dropped her pencil on the floor, reached down to pick up and proceeded to stare at my feet and scream, "OH MY FUCKING GOD, ARE THOSE YOUR FUCKING FEET?" of course, others have to stop and stare at my feet, finger-shaped toes and all.

and then, the flurry of questions began. questions about why they look like fingers, can you actually pick up shit with them, and even fingering someone with your toes were actually asked. it just reminded my of the terrible days of high school all over again. like are you fucking serious? are we all still 16 years old? give me a fucking break. i swear to god i was going to break everyone's face with my toes just to prove the fact that "yes they exist and yes i will fuck you up with them."

people are stupid. they should never ask obvious questions. and thus because of the girl, loaded questions ended and thus, the night was subsequently over. thanks stupid girl, because now i feel like i want to be 16 again. yay.

no mom, it's from a vampire

"what is that thing on your neck? is that from a girl????" - my mother upon seeing me for the first time in three weeks.

thanks mom. i appreciate the love.

survival guide: finals

1) study.
2) if you can't study, then procrastinate
3) if you can't procrastinate, then masturbate (OMGGGG dat rhymez! LOLZZ)
4) if you can't "beat your meat," then doodle on your notes
5) if you can't doodle, then look like you're doing something productive
6) if you can't be productive, then throw yourself into a fit of rage.
7) if you can't get mad enough at yourself, get mad at someone else and beat their ass
8) if you can't beat their ass, then chug copious amounts of caffeine.
9) if you can't handle caffeine, try adderall
10) if adderall isn't your style, then try coke (i hear its more effective)
11) if you can't do any drugs, then worry yourself about the final
12) if you can't worry, then hallucinate
13) if you can't trip and be delusional, then inform others of your suicidal thoughts
14) if you can't tell anyone about your plans, then just do it: jump.
15) if you can't will yourself to die, then freak out and shit your pants.
16) if you are constipated, then pee yourself (make sure it runs down BOTH pant legs)
17) if peeing in a public setting isn't ballin enough, then beg your prof for mercy
18) if the prof isn't willing, then offer sexual favors (at this point, you might have to go gay for that A)
19) if you can't suck a dick for a grade, then you're fucked. you might as well cheat or not even show up if you have any pride.

jason martin is Soooooooooo horny!

btw, don't read into that. it's not true.

i was at the library today finishing up a paper when i logged into my facebook account to see the following status: "Jason Martin is Sooooooooooo horny!" the first thought that came to my mind was "fuck, i left my door open and someone fucked with my profile." but then i realized that i locked my door and the only way for someone to do that was to know my password and log in or even hack in. i don't know why anyone would ever what to hack into a 20 year-old's social networking website profile. shit, you're not going to find anything good in that.

i'm not mad at all about the status. i actually find it very funny and whoever did that must have a great sense of humor for a 9 year old. a funny touch indeed, but how the fuck did they log in? that's what i'm wondering. i don't necessarily mind the jokes and whatever but it kind of got out of hand this afternoon. i came back to my apartment to see that one of my facebook friends had written on my wall, "if you're not, then you are..."

what the fuck is that supposed to mean? i barely know the guy and i've never said anything to him. the only thing i know about him is that he's actually a jesusfreak who's a closet homosexual according to one of my friends and a complete loser. he fucking failed 6th grade, for goodness' sake. so it's weird to hear that from a person whom you may think is hitting on you via a facebook wall post, let along anything from this kid at all. creeped out by this message, i wrote a repsonse back to him saying "excuse me?" as if he made a mistake should retract his fucking statement. of course he took it back saying "just kidding bro."

man what the fuck? i don't even know this kid and he thinks we're friends. isht don't think so as bruno says. no fucking way i'm friends with this guy. i've never spoken a word to him and the faggot thinks its cool to make jokes like that? NO. first of all, horrible joke and secondly, i'm very disturbed by it.

maybe i'm looking to far into this as i need topics to write about. i'm not too bothered by it, i just think its disturbing for someone to do that. but keep the jokes coming, i love them.

jesus rock: oh my god.

oh my god. i went to a religious show last night. what. the. fuck. was. i. thinking? apparently, i ahve no idea because i can't believe i got suckered in to attend such a thing. i was invited by a friend the other day to attend it because she said it would be a christmas concert. of course, i thought that "christmas" would include carols and good old tunes such as jingle bell rock. but no. not this place. this place went above and beyond what a "christmas concert" is. it was like a fucking rock spectacle for jesus.

but first, let me tell you about this church. it is massive. i've never seen anything before like that in my life. it's exactly what you see on those church tv shows that air early on sunday morning with stadium seating, lights, and the whole shebang. ridiculous as i might say. i'm sure the place could hold at least 2,000 people, because it seeemed like that many and so much more would waste their sunday night to attend it.



the concert itself was exactly like a rock show. special effects, lights, and speakers that would make you go deaf. that was only the beginning. i don't think i've ever seen any religion praised in this fashion. i'm catholic and the coolest thing that we have is communion. not a fucking light show. it was amazing, but i was kind of scared how religious songs about god can look almost exactly like a rock concert. i'm not turned off by any means, but i think that it is incredible how people are so devoted to created a spectacle out of a stupid holiday concert.

the point is, i was amazed by the whole thing. i've never seen religion taken to such an extreme or to a mainstream. the thing that sticks out in my mind is that how can you have such a massive church when there are so many other problems in the world. i know god is holy and the supreme deity, but building a massive place to worship him isn't the best way to make a difference. i just think that they should have put the money into something else. let people stand in a field. if they love god that much, they'll do it. if i didn't know that was a church, i wouldn't have any idea about the whole preface of the concert. it's amazing to see such a thing and i doubt i'll ever go near that kind of thing, let alone that church again.

don't press the panic button yet.

ok, maybe my little rant on joe gibbs was irrational. granted, the man has won 3 super bowls and should be given the benefit of the doubt, but i was sick of seeing the redskins fall apart in the waning seconds of every game. they could have had a chance to fall apart yet again last night, but todd collins rallied the troops to a 24-13 win. however, i am devastated yet again because jason campbell took a shot to the knee. and with the way he screamed like a little bitch, he might not be wearing the burgundy and gold until 2008. other than that, i guess we'll have to wait see and what happens with these skins. if everything falls in the right place (which it should), we have a chance to be 8-7, staring at a playoff spot when dallas marches into town on the 30th.

fire joe gibbs.

yes, you read that one right folks. i want the crusty old fuck gone and out of here. as a redskins fan, i am sick and tired of watching my team blow games and lose them due to circumstances that we can control but wish to ignore. for instance, two games come to mind when i speak of this mess that we have created: the giants game back in september and the bills game last week.

with the giants game, how can you call two run plays in a row with two yards to go. the defense knows exactly what's coming. they're going to stack the box and stuff any running game you try to squeeze out. i think i screamed at the tv for at least 10 minutes after game because i was so mad. and then with the bills debacle last week, i have only words of hatred for gibbs. i cannot believe that after multiple decades of coaching, you still do not know the rules. you have got to be kidding me. you pretty much gave the game away joe. next time, you should seriously consider just dropping dead during the game so they can win.

it's so heartbreaking to see a team that you love so much and cheer your heart for crumble into a diabolical mess that has no point of return. 30 days ago, the skins were 5-3 and looking to make a playoff run. now we're 5-7, looking at 5-8 with our best defensive player gone for good. i mean, jason campbell has played well at times, but we have a chance to win, he falls apart. don't get me wrong, he's a great quarterback, but you have to be careful with the ball. of the 4 games we've recently lost, we should have won 3 of them. philadelphia was just poor ball control, tampa bay gave us too many chances, and buffalo would have been done away with if not of clinton portis' 50 yards on 25 carries.

so as a redskin fan, looking out for the best interests of my team, i want joe gibbs gone. gone in the way that michael jordan left dc. quick, hasty, and leaving lots of bad blood at the door. the game has passed gibbs by and i am tired of seeing the ineptitude of our team kill themselves. we have a talented team, we just squander our chances with dumb mistakes both by players and coaches. i understand with the players, because they are young and still learning the game. but with coaches? give me a break. it is your job to know the rules and to call the right plays. and if they can't go a satisfactory job, then someone else will. i am tired of losing and wasting all of this financial effort for mediocre seasons. i don't care if he wins out and get us at 9-7. i want him gone. he's done. finished. dead.

i hope people agree with me on this. if not, then they will after tonight.

Mercury Morris rapping feels like an enlarged prostate

so while watching sportscenter, i couldn't help but notice that mercury morris, the starting running back for the 72' dolphins, was on the show talking about how the dolphins are the shit. and then, all of the sudden, this appears on the screen:

mercury, your rhymes are all weak sauce. perhaps you should join floetry or go to the local mic night at your local coffee shop to work on your chops. but with that being said, i think its the best artistic performance by an athlete right after etan thomas talking about abe pollin's prostate and every song by shaquille o'neal.

note: credit to blacksportsonline.com and robertlittal80 for the video. many thanks.

elijah dukes and lastings milledge meet DA MEATHOOK

DISCLAIMER: this post is only out of humor. it is a satire of elijah dukes, lastings milledge and dimitri young. in no way does this post reflect how they truly feel about each other. and this post is not intended to cause slander and/or libel to their names. there is a lot of cursing and other bad things that no one should ever condone, so please be cautious and wear your earmuffs/blinders/whatever you want to call it. if you take offense to this post, i honestly do not care. if you are offended, you probably have way too much free time on your hands and instead of fighting world epidemics of poverty, civil war, and AIDS, you're bitching about what a 20-year old writes on his blog. focus your time and efforts on other things more worldly and justified. thank you and now enjoy.


DATE: FEBRUARY 18, 2007
TIME: 2:30 PM
PLACE: WHEREVER THE WASHINGTON NATIONALS ARE


elijah dukes: man, i'm so muthafuckin happy i get to leave to fucking tampa bay. all them bitches do is whine and shit about some goddamn child support. i can't wait to get up to dc and get me some of that political pussy.

lastings milledge: same here 2 n****, i'm fucking tired of that new york shit man. name in the fuckin papers, hi-fivin' fans and shit. bitch, i'm here to play and get me some fine ass pussy 2. you hear me?

dukes: hell yeah my n****, i can't wait to fucking knock a few dem' fine ass interns up on that hill baby. i got a ton of kids already: tanisha, chiquita, banana, baby, elijah jr, elijah da illest, and elijah the third. maybe my skeet make that motherfuckin baseball team to support my pot booze and pussy.

milledge: bitch please. i'm all about that ms. dc. i don't give a fuck if she's datin jason campbell, he's just a pretty ass pussy and i'll knock the fuck outta him.

dukes: true that, n****. jason campbell is a fucking fag. he likes up the butt the way my ex-wife did. n****, that bitch would get the fuck off my dick.

milledge: she must have thought of that shit bein' gold or somethin.

dukes: yeah n****, and there this one time where the dumb bitch asked about that soulja boy song meant. and i said, "look bitch, i'ma fucking show what fuckin soulja boy is..."

milledge: and then...

dukes: and i dropped my fucking sean johns down to mah knees and got my footlong dick out. and i skeeted like i was fucking billy ocean n****. all over her fucking back. and she was like "what the fuck is this sticky shit? are you fucking cumming all over me again?" and i was like "no bitch, now shut your mouth and don't turn around."

milledge: you sure put that bitch in her place.

dukes: yeah n****. and once i got done with cumming all over her. i was talking to myself like "bitch, where are the motherfuckin sheets?" and she was like "n****, we fuckin sleep in them." and then i was like "bitch did i tell you to fucking talk?" as i grabbed the sheet and stuck it on her back.

milledge: aw no way homeboy!

dukes: and then she was like "did you stick that sheet to my back?" and i was like "shut yo ass up bitch. yeah i fuckin did, that's what the fuckin soulja boy is. you fuckin happy bitch? "

(milledge gapes in disbelief)
dukes: and man, i got those fucking sheets so sticky that i ripped off all of that bitch's back hair off of her. at least now i can fucking do her in the butt without thinkin i be on a rug.
milledge: n****, that was one dope story. i got a good one for you but first i gotta shit man.

dukes: why the fuck you gotta shit?

milledge: n****, i had fuckin' ben's chili bowl for lunch. i'm bout to shit my fuckin pants.
(milledge leaves, enter dimitri young)



dimitri young: WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS NOISE COMING FROM? WHO THE FUCK KEEPS YELLIN WHILE I'MA TRYIN TO FUCKIN SLEEP

dukes: man what the fuck is yo problem n****. calm the fuck down son

young: CALM THE FUCK DOWN??? DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I'M DA MOTHAFUCKIN MEATHOOK BITCH AND N**** YOU NEED GET BACK SON....AND WHY THE FUCK YOU CALLIN ME SON.DA MEATHOOK FUCKIN 32 YEARS OLD.

dukes: man i call you whatever the fuck i want to call you....bitch.

young: MAN DA MEATHOOK WILL FUCKIN KILL YO ASS. DA MEATHOOK DON'T FUCKIN CARE IF WE TEAMMATES. YOU GONNA BE SWEARIN ON YO MOMMA'S GRAVE.....SON.

dukes: you dead dawg! i'm gonna rape you the same way i did a 16 year old

young: N****, DA MEATHOOK LAUGHS AT YO PUNY SHIT. CUZ YOU'S A PUNY PIECE OF SHIT. DON'T MAKE ME TAKE YO ASS OUT BACK AND GIVE YOU SOME MOTHERFUCKING DELIVERANCE
dukes: n**** please. i will cockslam yo cuntface into the ground and tattoo my fatass mushroom stamp on yo bitchass face.

young: PIMPSMACK YO ASS BITCH! THAT'S WHAT THE FUCK DA MEATHOOK A GONNA DO

milledge: what the fuck?

young: SHUT THE FUCK UP LASTINGS. YOU AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A LITTLE ROOK AND I WILL FUCKIN CHOP YO DICK AND FEED IT YOU SO YOU SHIT IT OUT YO ASS

milledge: please bitch. i'll fuckin hide all yo candy bars so when yo blood sugar's low, yo dumbass won't have any shit to eat. how about dem' apples n****

young: HELL 2 DA NAW. YOU KNOW DA MEATHOOK'A GONNA DO? YOU READY? YOU READY? YOU READY? YOU READY? YOU READY? YOU READY? YOU READY? YOU READY? YOU READY?...............SHAZZZZAAAAAAAAM BITCH, PISTOLWHIP YO ASS WIT MY COCK.

dukes: you dead dawg. that's all i gotta fuckin say.

(manny acta and lastings milledge enter)

manny acta: hey guys lets go onto the field for some bp.

young: GOTCHA BITCH.

milledge: man, i'm write sum lyrics tonight about yo bitchass tonite and then i'm gonna cut some bars about how me and my hood are gonna straight up murder yo ass.

young: HEY BITCH YOU KNOW WHAT YOU CAN DO INSTEAD? IDA MEATHOOK WANT YOU TO WALK YO ASS TO POTBELLYS IN GALLERY PLACE IN A DRESS AND ORDER DA MEATHOOK A FUCKIN SANGWICH. DA MEATHOOK WANT A FUCKIN CHICKEN SANGWICH AND SOME FUCKING ROOT BEER WIT THAT SHIT.

dukes: n****, they ain't got no chicken sandwiches at potbelly's.

young: SHUT THE FUCK UP DAWG. DA MEATHOOK WANT SUM FUCKIN CHICKEN. DO YOU WANT TO WEAR A FUCKIN DRESS TOO? THEN DA MEATHOOK SUGGEST THAT YOU SHUT YO ASS UP BEFORE YOU SLEEP WIT DA FUCKIN' FISHES.

dukes: yes sir.

milledge: i'ma leave now. peace n****z.

young: NOW GET YO BITCHASS ON THE FIELD AND ROLL ME SOME GROUNDERS...BITCH.

friday in 50 words or less.

it blew the big one. i'm never going again. my date completely ignored me after i drank all the beer i could get my hands on. actually made my date drive my car to the greek village. and that sums up my night. other than the fact that i ate a lot of chicken fingers and did more soulja boy, electric slide, and cha-cha than anyone ever needs to do.

semi-formal.

i'm going to a semi-formal tonight.

it's probably going to be the most interesting thing i've done since halloween. hopefully, i won't want to eat girls' breasts and steal kegs this time.

sean taylor: the baddest mfer ever

i don't know what to say about sean taylor. so many thoughts run through my head about this man, this meast. thoughts about how he was my favorite player, thoughts about how i'm going to go on with my sundays not knowing he's going to be out there, and even thoughts about the family and friends he's left behind.

i also don't know why i feel so attached to taylor. he's only a football player who does his job. he's not an enigmatic personality who talks to the media incessantly. in fact, he shuns the media and lets his play on the field do the talking for him. he's such a mysterious figure. never talks the media and so we could only make assumptions about him based on his balls-to-the-wall type of play and his gangsta-like lifestyle that he lived off the field. and we all made some pretty great assumptions about the man. how he could run through walls, how he could walk on water and not get wet. those kinds of things. a myth, something like a tall tale. you can hype him up so much to the great beast of man that can cure cancer and turn water into wine, but in the end like a tragic hero, he is nothing more than a mere mortal.

i again don't know why i started liking sean taylor. maybe it was because of my obsession about miami. it all started in 8th grade when my friend brian and i would just talk and talk and talk about the u and its greatness. santana moss. clinton portis. jeremy shockey. ed reed. the list goes on and on. but one year this kid comes on the scene with an "i don't give a fuck about you" attitude and lived to jack the shit of his opponents. his name was sean michael maurice taylor. i'll never forget the orange visor. he just looked like a robot with two modes: off and kill. that mentality makes it so easy for a person to fall in love with him. i mean he was my first mancrush. mancrush as in you have greatest and upmost respect for a player that you would do anything for them except anything gay. because gay would be crossing the line from mancrush to unhealthy, gay obsession. anyway, he rocked the u and then the redskins. it was like a dream come true. my favorite player playing for my favorite team. he was a BAMF his first few years, spitting in people's faces, leaving meetings, and even wearing ridiculous socks. i didn't care about what he did, because he had this way about him. this mysterious, dark figure that doesn't give a fuck about anything or anyone. a guy there just to play the game and not to get caught up in the hype. he lived to play the game.

a friend asked me how it felt to know that your favorite player died. i told him i felt like a part of me died today with sean and i don't think i'll ever get it back. people are raised to believed that sports figures are their heroes. superior athletic ability and killer instinct let the cream of the crop rise to the top. and now my hero is dead. he only played three and half years. and now instead of taking my kids to see the twilight of taylor's career. i now have to describe to them taylor and they'll just think i'm some crazy person. they'll never know but i honestly hope that they'll find someone like sean to revere for his play, not his issues. i hope that everyone thanks their lucky stars that they're able to see their player play on sunday, while mine will sit six feet under for the rest of eternity. it's really depressing, but i'll move on. there's no other choice. ave atque vale, sean. wherever it is that you may go, they probably won't flag you for unnecessary roughness there.

say it ain't so sean.

at this hour, sean taylor is the victim of a shooting at his home early this morning, according to some fine sources out there. taylor's home in miami was apparently burglarized at 2AM, where he was shot in the leg. news sources say he is in critical condition, and "fighting for his life" as he is currently in critical condition. although my thoughts and prayers go out to sean and the taylor family, i have a few questions/comments/concerns about this whole situation.

1) why is taylor in miami? shouldn't he be in dc rehabbing his injury?
2) home security? has taylor learned this lesson from the preceding tragedies of athletes before him? nope.
3) the redskins are fucked if he doesn't recover fully.
4) sean taylor probably jacked the shit out of the shooter on one leg. he's that good.
5) i hope that this isn't true. i love me some sean taylor.

question

how can you get america to care about making a difference in a world where it seems as if all hope is lost?

answer that for me.

happy thanksgiving

facebook events.

i recently had to create a facebook event. it's for a class project and we have to create and run an actual event to raise money for a charitable cause. it's really stupid, but try telling that to the professor when it's 40% of your grade. although i think that the causes are really great, the project is nothing more than a waste of time and something that is not going to change the world. yes, it might increase civic awareness and the benefits of doing good for the community, but i have seen little evidence of this actually helping people. the foundation we're raising money for, the public safety foundation, needs thermal imaging cameras for fire stations throughout the country. at this rate, with the money we've raised, we can probably get them a nice set of kiddie binoculars for them to use.

but here's the point that i'm trying to get at while going around in circle. i had to make a facebook event for this event and so i invited all the people i knew that would be willing to come and support a great cause. it turns out that 80% of the people i invited to stop by or even donate declined the invite. and what i'm convinced through this showing is that people don't really read the event and they only read who sent the invite. the reasoning behind this notion was proved when 3 people who were already on facebook already declined nearly 2 minutes after i sent out the invites. first of all, why does a person respond so quickly to this event. i mean, shit, it took me a week to finally create this stupid event and it takes the person 3 seconds to reject it. that's some weak sauce.

and i'm sure they didn't even read the description. they just looked at the person sending and decided if they liked the person enough to accept or reject. no one ever does anything on a tuesday night. how can you reject something for a charitable cause when you have nothing better to do. i know it's stupid but it's like a slap in the face when someone rejects you for a fucking facebook event. it's kind of like "we're cool with each other but when you need my help, i'm leaving you to be eaten by the wolves." i mean, the least you can fucking do is say maybe attending because at least there's a chance. but rejecting? you have no heart. see if i fucking help any of you fuckers who rejected. i take it personally. it's bullshit. total, complete, and utter bullshit.

alright, i need to get off my soapbox. i'm done ranting and raving for a while. thank you to the 20 people who said they were attending or maybe attending. i appreciate it.

eating my words.

so i knew that i should have never posted the fact that i was guaranteeing a win against kyle bohman. how stupid of me. i can't believe i was arrogant enough to guaranteeing a win on a night when randy moss and tom brady nearly combine to outscore my entire team. it's pathetic and now my team is 6-5, on the outside looking in for playoffs. so thanks kyle, you completely ruined the little confidence that i had left after what the redskins and gamecocks have done to me. now i'm just going to go cry in a corner until the wizards are over .500.

god i hate being a washington dc sports fan right now.

suck it kyle.

i'm about to beat kyle bohman in fantasy football today because he's an idiot and he doesn't check his lineup. so kyle,


SUCKKKKKKKKKKKKK ITTTTTTTTTTTTTT BO!!!!!!!!!!!!

girl.

so there's this girl i know. we're pretty good friends and i have this thing for her. not like "i want to get you drunk and sleep with you" thing, but something more like "you're really cool and we should date" kind of thing. she's a really smart and intelligent girl. she can carry a conversation with and she has a great sense of humor. good body, curves in all the right places, everything i could possibly want in a girl. and here's the clincher: i like being around her and she makes me happy. i don't think i've ever felt this happy around a person since i was with jessica.

however, there is a problem. we're totally different. different in the way that we are, the friends we hang out with, and our preferences about everything. it's really weird for me to be attracted to her but as i said earlier, she makes me happy. another thing holding me back is the fact that i don't want to put myself out there yet. i'm perfectly content with the single life for now, with the exception of every now and then, and i'm not in a rush to put myself out there again. i did come out of a long relationship and it's hard to get your feet moving again after being infatuated with one person for so long. maybe i'm just afraid of getting hurt, because i already now what she's going to say. she's going to turn me down and be nice about it, saying that we should just be friends. being friends is the ultimate killer for any potential arising for a guy and a girl. it makes their future interactions awkward now they know what the other person feels about them. i'm no love doctor but i just know its going to turn out that way because this story sounds all too familiar.

so what do i do? take my chances and put my heart on my sleeve or keep my shit and just be friends? we'll see what happens between now and thanksgiving. peace.

what happened to you?

what happened to you?
you used to say that we'd always be friends
and now you don't give me the time of day
we did a lot of things together
and made some great memories
but then you changed

what happened to you?
you went up and left
left for bigger and better things
you promised to keep in touch
but you're having so much fun now
going out, partying every night
sleeping with guys whom you don't even know

what happened to you?
you used to be nice
and now all i hear is that you're a bitch
they say you're mean, spiteful
always rude
and the conversation always has to be about you

what happened to you?
you used to be motivated
and now you don't give a fuck
you say that you don't care
but i know that you really do
you just want to give up

what happened to you?
you said you always wanted to leave home
explore the big sights and follow your dreams
but every time you come crawling back to it
you say its your safe haven
but we all know that's where you'll end up

what happened to you?
you said that you were too good for us
and you went on a different track
maybe it's for the best
because we've all moved on
and never looked back

what happened to you?
we used to be friends
and that's all we'll ever be
i hope you like your new life
because i'm done with you
but it's that you can't see

losing to douchebags and faggots.

so my flag football team was eliminated in the second round of the playoffs tonight. we went to the well one too many times and when the game was on the line, there wasn't any water left. i'm fine with the fact that we lost, i'll eventually get over it, but it's just the way in which we lost is what disheartens me. it was one of the games where you lose in such a way that you think everything is going wrong with your life and you're just a useless sack of shit.

we had a chance to win the game. we started off well as i threw a touchdown pass on the first drive. but then we literally hit the iceberg and began to sink. incomplete. fumble. dropped pass. interception. all the while our frustration level is growing among our team as a whole can't make the plays. and the thing that's making it worse is one fucker in particular. this kid keeps talking shit about how he "can get through three guys at once," or call our team "a bunch of pretty boys" (furthest thing from it). i got so angry at the kid earlier in the game, that after my first interception, i went after the talking piece of shit and trampled over him liked the little bitch he is. i was flagged for it, but it felt incredible to knock him over.

but there's one play in particular that changed the whole game. there's about 5 minutes left in the game with the score tied at 6. it was 3rd down and about 10. we call outs for our play, confident that we can sling to one of receivers for the first down. not the case. my pass was a little off and the trailing cornerback snatched it out of the air to return it the other way. i ran at an angle towards the corner but then this fucking kid comes up again with this smile on his face as if he think his teammate had it made. i pushed the kid out of bounds, but by the time i'm done squashing beef with this faggot, the corner is gone and into the end zone. i threw my flags down and walked off the field to slam personal items, like my water bottle, into the ground.

i don't think i've ever been that mad before while playing sports. granted, i did get ejected from a basketball game in 5th grade for kicking someone in the shin after they knocked my glasses off and i fucked up my entire mixed age relay when i was 11. (i'm pretty sure i was in my "get really mad and slam shit because it's badass and you can make sportscenter" phase.) but anyway, i felt helpless towards the whole situation. i had let this loser get the best of me and now my team is going to lose the game because i went after this faggot twice. we had the better team and were in the position to win but i just could not get it done. and that makes me so mad because if i were to have aimed a little more to the left, we wouldn't have this problem and i wouldn't be writing tonight. everything happens for a reason so i hope that sad sack of shit gets what's coming to him. if only that were true.

but as the cubs always say, there's always next year.

fuckin heinekens and jagabombs

this weekend, i went above and beyond the call and reached a new level of drunken stupidity. as this past weekend was the one before halloween and i normally do not go out during the week, this was my big chance to get drunk and shine. instead of going with the traditional pirate or the complex and unrecognizable dwight schrute, i went with the "offend as many people as possible in a tasteful manner" card and went as a guido. yes, a fuckin' guido.

- "bears. beets. battlestar galactica."

instead of looking like that handsome man above, i went with the guido look, because 1) guidos are fucking stupid, 2) i had an excuse to be loud, obnoxious, and stupid and 3) because i've watched "my new haircut" to the point where my trashy accent could make me sound like i was from seaside.

so with that being said, i bought these ridiculous sunglasses that only a guido would wear from target, used half of a bottle of hair gel, and popped my collar to unprecedented heights. and voila, i was a motherfucking guido, because i was the fucking man.

i went to a party that night and all hell proceeded to break loose. i was the fucking man and no fucking jabronie was going to fucking stop me. i had my fucking party in a box i chugged beers like it was my bitch and had carried a swagger that gilbert arenas couldn't get close to. i was going to grind on so much pussy until my dick would fall off. (not really, don't take those last four sentences seriously) instead, i got a few compliments from some girls and hit it off pretty well with them once i ditched the jersey accent and the douchebag attitude that came with it. things were going well.

that was until the alcohol kicked in. it turns out that chugging beer isn't the best way to get a guido's party on. i did/was involved on some pretty embarassing incidents that i would never do if i was in the right frame of mind. it all started with this girl. she was a pretty attractive individual and although i didn't know what she was supposed to be, i was turned on by the fact that she had chopsticks in her cleavage. so i went up to this beautiful woman and dropped with a pick-up line that was something like "if you still had those chopsticks then i could take a piece of your breast." suave as i may have thought it would be, it surely didn't come out that way. although she said she never heard that before, i could definitely see the look of disgust on her face as we parted ways and i continued to be a stupid douchebag.

after being approached with multiple references from "my new haircut" and getting tired of drawing out every vowel when i talked, i began to notice that there was an empty keg sitting all by its lonesome self. i always remember the conversations that i would have with my friend brian, as he would steal empty keg shells to get kegs cheaper that way. anyway, this thought came to mind as a friend told me i should steal the keg when i brought that subject up to him. i walk over to the other side of the apartment, lift the empty keg up, and walk out with it. unfortunately, that was noticed by a random guy who happened to live there. after a pleasant exchange that consisted of me explaining why stealing a keg was a great joke to play and i never had a use for it, i returned the keg and disparately wanted to leave.

my friends and i eventually left and put my "party in a box" in the car. we drove back to campus, parked the car in the garage, and i grabbed the party. unfortuantely, i grabbed in the wrong way, so the rest of the beers all fell out of the box and onto the floor. i was too drunk to realize this so i simply flung the empty box on top of the car and went back home to sleep.

in short, being a guido and getting drunk on halloween are not very good ideas. thank god, i didn't do any other stupid shit. however, i'm glad to give my friends a source of entertainment that will not be seen anytime in the near future. i swear that after this weekend, i hate guidos so much that i never want to be one again.


note: if you ever want to see these incriminating pictures, check facebook.

well i guess this is growing up.

this week i found out that i only have two semesters left before i graduate college. we're almost a year away from me walking across that stage to get that degree and i honestly don't know what to think about the whole situation. i don't have a grand plan for myself after college except to get rich, fuck some hot-ass women, and be happy. that's about it. i don't really know how i'm supposed to get there but i think if i can handle the first one, that will lead to the second one and cause me to get the third one as well. regardless about my intentions about living my life, i don't know what to think when it comes to what i'll be doing after college. everyone might think that i have this great plan, but i really don't have one. it's kind of scary to not know what you're going to do after gradutation. i've always had a plan to get out college and i never looked that far ahead into the future, knowing that i had a few years before reality hit me. well, its hitting me right between the eyes and i need to figure out a plan. i've got a year to figure this out but this is the rest of my life that we're talking about here.

hmmm...oh the possibilites. maybe i'll just create a cult, move to brazil, and make my followers drink kool-aid when the cia raids my village. just a thought.

sold my soul to the devil

i made a really stupid trade yesterday in fantasy football. desperate to acquire the services of jesse chatman, a backup running back who has been thrust into the spotlight, i traded lee evans, a wide reciever who i know is going to blow up and put up a ridiculous amount of points in the next week or two. i had placed a waiver claim for him over the weekend when my starter, ronnie brown, was injured. although i did not get chatman, i was willing to give up a lot to get him.

just looking back on the trade, i can't believe how much of an idiot i was. i let a perfectly good, yet underachieving receiver go for a backup running who won't even play that much. we'll see how it works out. in a perfect world, lee evans would hit be a bus tomorrow and jesse chatman is the greatest thing since sliced bread. touche, danny mulrine, and i hope you have a better record than me because of my stupidity.

the end of perfection

last week signified the end of an era for me. it was an era full of academic prestige and glory, and something that i could hold over all of my peers. the 4.0. the one thing that any serious student strives for, the reason why the waste their lives away at the library instead of drinking in five points. regardless of anything negative in my life, i could always hang my hat on that 4.0. but not anymore. i received my grade for internship and to be frank, i'm not surprised.

it was a moment that was going to happen, sooner or later. losing the 4.0 was bound to happen, whether through my internship or business communications or even beginning tennis. apparently, my bosses were not kind with my evaluation for the entire summer, as i'm sure they expected much more than i put forth. granted, there were times i didn't exert my best effort, but i was always willing and ready to help. i mean shit, i put so much time into this job that i had to break up with my girlfriend so i can fully commit to my job and be normal. but after writing that they were stupid and did not know anything about computers in my term paper, it was going to happen. a closed-doors meeting just wasn't enough. they weren't going to let that final jab slip.

anyway, i'm really glad that i lost the 4.0. in a way, there's less pressure for me to keep it. i can now let my guard down and get that B+ or B every once in a while. which is good, because right now, i just need to survive for the next year and a half. i just want to get of college alive and with my sanity. but for now, a 3.96 will do for me. not a big deal. there's more important things to life than grades. i just have to find them now.

end of fall break

you stay classy dc. see you in five weeks.

ballin at 37,000 feet

i caught a flight this morning from columbia to dc. it's fall break for usc and i wanted to see my parents for the weekend. the impending hours before the flight, i pulled an all-nighter that consisted of waffle house, ncaa 08, and killshootkill movies. the all-nighter went without a hitch during those wee-morning hours until i got on the plane. i placed my newly purchased issue of gq on the tray attached to the seat in front of me. i proceeded to fall asleep and drool all over my magazine during the flight, completely disgusting the person next to me. and that is what i call ballin at 37,000 feet.

her.

do you ever wish you can go back in time and change everything you ever regretted doing? there are many times in my life where i just wish i could turn back the hands of time. especially with this summer with her. i wish it would have never happened in that way. i wish i wouldn't have gotten so frustrated with things and walked away. i wish i wouldn't have been so stern and expecting her of what i wanted her to be and not who she truly was. i wish i would have kept things on friendly terms and not completely cut her off. she was one of the best things that had ever happened to me. i wish i would have been friendly about the breakup. she saved me from the person that i never wanted to be. she gave me a reason to live, a reason to fight again. and i just felt no remorse or emotion in the end. the least i could have done would be to thank her for everything she's done.

but i didn't. and that's where i have this empty feeling inside of me. i've spent 18 months dating this girl, sharing my hopes and dreams with her, and now we've ended on such bad terms where every conversation is so awkward. i don't want it to be this way. this is not how its supposed to be. i've spent too much of my life with this girl not to completely shut her out. i want to be friendly with her, but i don't know if i can ever be able to be friends with her again, after i broke her heart and ripped it to shreds. i need her back in my life, not as a significant other, but mainly as a friend. someone i can talk to and trust to hold my deepest secrets. i blame myself for causing this, cutting her off completely from my life. but i'm ready to man up and face the woman whose i heart i broke. the question is, is she ready to face me?

god i hope so.

Open Letter to Barry Bonds.

Damnit Barry, i am sick of your shit. You are a little bitch when it comes to home runs. I understand that you are 43 years old, were jacked up on roids for the better half of the last decade, and could keel over at any minute, but you need to get this home run record over with. Either retire or break it, Barry. America is tired of watching your every at bat when you walk or ground out to second. Don't milk this for all that its worth, just finish what you've started and go away. Barry, i've watched your every at bat since you've hit 754 last week, and the time you decide to bring your testicles back down from their shriveled state was last night. I didn't even bother to watch it last night and what do you do? You hit a fucking home run, barry. Way to go, Mr. Bonds, for ruining my viewing experience and now having a chance to break the record against my NAAAts. And whether I like it or not, I'm stuck watching you for the next 4 days, hoping that John Lannan will fucking drill you in the knee, you pompous fucktard. I honestly do hope that Lannan takes you out, for you will never break the record and baseball can be free of your scumly needledick infiltrating the record books. In closing, Barry, go fuck yourself, and I hope you sleep with the fishes in McCovey Cove when you kill yourself.

Regards,

The United States of America.

Survival Guide: Metro.

1. Drive to work.
2. If you don't have a car, then go buy one.
3. If you can't afford one, go to Eastern Motors.
4. If you don't have a job, then go get one.
5. If you can't get a job, then live off of unemployment checks.
6. If you can't get unemployment, then apply for welfare.
7. If you can't get welfare, then go rob a bank.
8. If you can't rob a bank, then pull a GTAIII and steal a car.
9. If you can't steal a car, then steal a bike.
10. If you can't get a bike, then steal a scooter.
11. If you can't get a scooter, then walk.
12. If you don't want to walk, well then you're shit out of luck. Take the Metro.

One-Post Wonder

My 15 minutes of fame start now....

http://blog.washingtonpost.com/dcsportsbog/2007/08/the_cone.html
http://blog.washingtonpost.com/dcsportsbog/2007/08/skins_go_stache.html

As they continue to tick away and I fade into DC blogging obscurity, I just wanted to give some big ups to the DC Sports Bog for The Cone post. I wasn't expecting the Bog to actually find my newly-created blog, thus all of the normal cursing that a college student usually engages in. The post is cleaned up as much as possible, even without diluting the content of the post itself. Like all one-hit wonders, there's only one way to go: down. However, I must say that it was a crazy idea that somehow worked and I achieved blogging immortality for just one day.

The Washington Redskins Meet the Cone.

I went to training camp today for the Washington Redskins in Ashburn, VA. I had the day off from work, so my friends and I decided to hit up camp and experience it firsthand. We went all (crazy) with this, as we created a Facebook event, brought jerseys, and even carpooled up to Ashburn. At training camp, the word on the street from friends and other fans was that players would usually sign autographs for awhile after practice. When I heard this, I jumped at this chance, but I had nothing really great in terms of Redskins paraphernalia. Most people bring hats, balls, jerseys, etc. for players to sign, but that would be really boring and wouldn’t stand out. With the clock ticking against me, I had little time to buy new Redskins stuff. I grabbed a traffic cone from the trunk of my old car, that a friend had left in there previously, and we made our way to Ashburn.


We arrived at Redskins Park as practice was starting. I busted out the cone from my trunk and proceeded to carry it from the car into the viewing area. I watched the practice as I sweated my butt off, but I wasn’t interested in watching Ladell Betts fumble or see Carlos Rogers wear yellow socks. I didn’t haul this (thing) for a 30-minute drive to wear as a dunce cap or to direct traffic. I wanted some (flippin) autographs on this cone.


Practice ended after 90 minutes and the players slowly start to migrate towards the fans. I felt really unsure about this whole idea because 1) it was a (flipping) cone and 2) i was in front of kids. I hate children but the kids are more likely to get love from the players, since they had balls and hats, while I was a college student with a (flipping) cone. The players made their way over to where the cone and I were, and I lifted the heavy cone into the air. I yelled at the top of my lungs for Jason to sign my cone and Jason’s godly presence touched my cone as he grabbed the Sharpie out my trembling hand and signed the cone. I then knew what it felt to be a teenage girl seeing their favorite boy band. Except I didn’t cry.


I thought that it was pretty tits to get Campbell’s autograph, but then His Majesty Joe Gibbs made his way through the crowd and saw the cone as well. He took his sharpie and magically chicken scratched his John Hancock onto my cone. And then he and Sean Taylor proceeded to slap two (women) next me. (No, not really) Then we hit some bumps in the road. Rock Cartwright and Marcus Washington decided that they were too good for the cone and completely ignored the large orange cone that was in their face. It’s cool, you know, because Cartwright sucks and deserves to be cut after not signing it and Marcus Washington can just straight up suck my left nut.



The cone began to gain some notoriety with the players and the fans, as the fans would cheer every time the cone was signed. I’m sure everyone thought it was pretty badass of me to bring a cone in comparison to their hat or ball. Shawn Springs and Dan Steinberg (writer of the DC Sports Bog) received word of the cone and made their way over to where I was standing. Shawn took my sharpie and put his bane on the cone, while I invited Steinberg to come sign it. I love Steinberg as a writer and I felt that it would be fitting for the legend himself to leave his mark on the cone. Steinberg asked me a few questions about the cone, but I think I blabbered a few words to him after I (pooed) my pants. (again, not really, but close). Carlos “Yellow Socks” Rogers and Fred “Sex Boat” Smoot also came over to the cone, but wouldn’t sign it because they go to gay SEC schools and know that they have to cover something more than the bed to touch this cone.



But the highlight of the day was Chris Cooley. Chris is a fan favorite around these parts and was more than willing to sign the cone. However, when he was signing the cone, he asked, “So, did you steal the cone.” And I said, “Uhhhh, No… Sir.” Cooley laughed as strolled off onto the sunset. No other players came around for they headed to do press or the locker room so thus, the cone had to be put away for the day. A security guard who spotted us as we were leaving had other plans for the cone as he told us that it had to be returned. We pleaded with the man showing him that the cone was ours and how it was different from the rest. I finally got the cone in the trunk and drove away with a hell of an adventure today.

The cone basking in all of its greatness.

More pictures will be up later.

an itch that needs to be scratched.

I have the itch to write again. There are times when I love to write and other times where I absolutely hate it. And so, it’s one of those times where I have so much going on that I need to keep track of it. I think I’ve matured as a writer since my xanga days in high school, for there are much better things to take note of instead of petty drama. I’m a big boy now and its time to step my game up to the big leagues. So here’s the no expectations, no frills, and hopefully some good shit. I’m not making any promises, but I assure that I will not let you, the reader, down. Thanks.