Ain't no cure
Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying my 9 day weekend. It just feels like it needs a jumpstart; which is funny because my car needs the same thing. I think what this weekend really needs is Wisconsin. So I'm going tomorrow. I've got to make like a groomsman. See the ol' college gang. Eat at a Fish Boil and if all goes well-- watermelon polo.

Haunting memories
Every time I work out, go for a run, etc. I end up feeling the way I did at Districts in the 2-mile so long ago. It feels like I need to reach inside and drag myself along by my intestines. Only now, there's nothing to fight for except "fitness". And I've always disliked fitness for fitness sake. It's time for a goal.

Superlatives be damned
Two of my best friends are getting married in 9 days. I don't know what to say on the card. I don't know what to say in a toast. I don't even know when to deliver the gift. You'd think I'd get this wedding thing down by now.

That Little Jimmy Dickens!
I went to the Grand Ol' Opry with Dori and two co-workers. The great thing about Tuesday night at the Opry is that it's a smorgasbord of country music. Before I could get too tired of any one performer they were replaced by another. Yee haw.

Jumbo Inflate Monkey meets funny hats
I think the fact that I live in a "hip, happening town" but went to Laurel, MD for a bachelor party tells you a lot about my friends and me. The title of this post probably tells you the rest. There was a monkey incident, but it got resolved. Don't be concerned.

I'm one of those people
I have bailed on an Ultimate tournament to take care of other stuff. You can call it a new low or a new high, but no matter what you call it- I have very mixed feelings on the issue.

the frog king a love story by adam davies
Is it good? you might ask me. And I would not know how to answer. Yes. It did make me squirm on the edge of passing out, but you could too if you knew what buttons to push. Sure it has left me feeling very empty and alone, feeling like this wasn't just "a love story" but rather just a few drunken tweaks from "my love story". Is that good? I don't know. Maybe it's time to face that every story doesn't have a happy ending. Surely you've already faced that. Surely. I have and stop calling me Shirley. Or at least I thought I had. I wanted to cry but I don't know how. It didn't make me cry; it just took me to the edge and left a little hole in what? my stomach? my heart? I don't know. Was it good? I guess so. Am I good? I don't know.

Oh yea?
Human touch is underrated.

Got Blech?
It's like my milk is flat or something. It's not sour, but it's still gross. I continue to have bad experiences with milk here. This is causing increasing levels of anxiety in my life.

I'm not afraid of Americans
If you want to read blogs from other countries be up at 5 AM. All those Aussies and Brits are posting about breakfast. WHY AM I UP?

Who is your Big Bad VooDoo Daddy?
At one point I had much anticipated the follow-up to the self-titled BBVDD album that propeled that swing craze (which will return, I swear.) That anticipation died down some 2.5 years ago. Four long years after that first album my favorite swingers have returned to Save my Soul.
Alas, this album is heavy on the VooDoo and light on the Big and Bad. It has a couple swell tunes in the middle “Simple Songs and “Next Week Sometime”, but those are mixed in with a number of tunes that sound a whole lot like the songs from 4 years ago. Perhaps BBVDD thought we’d forget ‘cause they’d been gone so long, but you don’t forget catchy songs like “Me and You and The Bottle Makes Three Tonight.”
Scotty Morris still makes me want to put on my fedora, drink my moonshine and find myself a flapper and Glen “The Kid” Marhevka still blows a mean trumpet, but if BBVDD swings through this town I’ll be there for the nostalgia and not the “zig zaggity woop woop.”

Ultimate. My drug of choice.
I've never been drunk, but a hangover has got to feel just like this.

Barbie and the flesh-eater
Any story that involves eating steak without utensils and a date with a Barbie model has to be good. And it was. Ask Rob's cousin the next time you see him.

Scott and his scoopability
Do topia apologizes to readers (my mom) who were uncomfortable with Scott and his scoopability. I would like to point out that there was a disclaimer.

The 2 Q's
1. Is it actually possible to forget that Rob D. is turning 25 this week?
2. What if the Hokey-pokey is really what it's all about?

flies with honey
If you say something nice to me I am better able to overlook all the yelling you did at me this weekend, maybe even consider the message in the yelling. Funny how compliments will do that.

The look
If I did scoop up Scott* because he meets the requirements, then we would move on to the next phase. In the next phase if I decided I liked Scott and I really wanted to connect with him I would look at him. It wouldn't be any look, it'd be that look that starts from the back of my head that tries to tie a cord between us emotionally, physically, maybe even spirtually. It's that look of longing, of possibility, of connectivity. The one that pierces his eyes and tries to draw him in.

That's the look to avoid.

*The scoopability of Scott and my desire or lack of desire to scoop Scott up is not the issue here. Please focus, people. He's the only volunteer I had.

By the numbers
7players starting our Savage 7 Tourney
5players left when we gave up
2knee injuries
3wins
1loss
200fluid ounces of liquid I consumed today
60minutes ago I should have gone to bed
.5jerks on the team
1.5times I nearly(?) lost my cool responding to Mr. Loudmouth
At least 2teammates who had played at Worlds
1guys named Boozer from Wyoming that I happened to know.
Severalthings I learned about myself: I'd rather lose and have fun than win and be shouted at; If I find a gal and get her to play Ultimate I hope I treat her better than the people I saw today. A great captain is a rare thing indeed. Every time I play with a new team I learn to appreciate Renny MacKay all over again.

I have the strange desire to scoop someone up. Anyone, really, someone smaller who smells nice would be best.

It bothers me
-that the next logical step after losing your virginity is a wedding. At the very least that makes American Pie2 a complete waste.
-that our leader is celebrating the death of two men and our news organizations are excited about tracking down their father.
-that cows had to die to make leather dividers for someone's presentation.
-that I ate two donuts at a meeting with the IRS.
-to spell doughnuts. Either way.

To be filed under "huh?"
*I tried to MASH and my connection went out. Now that's fate. Sorry Rob. Huh?
*Not two hours after my cubicle neighbor received flowers from her boyfriend she asked me to watch the movie we missed last week. Huh?
*BBQ SPAM is actually good cold and hot. Somehow the BBQ must soak up the disgusting SPAM pus. No verdict yet on SPAM&cheese. Huh?
*The licorice fish are coming. The licorice fish are coming. YES!