Let the record show at 8:00 pm on 2/13/2010, that I, Andrew Belvin, am done with the NBA's dunk Contest. Like done, done. This isn't one of those break up's where I still like them and I'm not ruling out a chance of watching it again, but I still want to see what else is out there.
Oh no, we're splitsville.
This isn't a motivational tactic, like maybe the dunk contest doesn't have a job, and I'm tired of paying for EVERYTHING. I just feel like we've gone as far as we can go, ya know? Unless they do the equivalent of totally reinventing themselves, getting in shape and getting a dope job. Then we can re-open the case of Dunk contest and Belvins compatabillity(The only way this happens is if Lebron and some real dunkers finally show up).
Maybe I took it for granted. I'm not above admitting that. My first dunk contest was Kobe's coming out party. I remember everything about the Vince Carter and both of Jason Richardson wins. I used to plan my night around it.
It always irked me that Vince never defended his title. Or we never got a T-Mac, Vince, Kobe show down. Think about it, we could've thrown in Steve Francis, Desmond Mason and Jason Richardson. It would've been epic.
Unfortunatly we have more superstars who feel like Vince Carter and chose not to display their dunk skills anymore (or ever...cough cough Lebron, Dewayne Wade). Shit I remember distinctly, Vince Carter looking at ME through the tv and promising to follow up next year with more spectacular dunks. Saying something along the lines of 'I got more in my bag of tricks.'
The dunk contest has gone from the girl who always gave us a night we'd never forget, to the girl we can't remember. She used to give us things to talk about not just for months, but for years with our buddies ( Amongst my friends, Jason Richardson is talked about with the same gusto as my boys when they talk about the night they caught me wasted making out with a girl who had pulled her wig off and made her cry).
The dunk contest transforms you. In a league where image is as important as your jump shot (see Allen Iverson elected as All-Star starter this year), the contest can give you more individual attention then anything you can dream of.
Every guy my age after Vince Carters domination of the '98 contest believed he was the best 2 guard in the league for YEARS after that. In reality, he couldn't even get a seat at Kobe's restuarant.
Maybe the Dunk Contest has been taking me for granted? Knowing that every year, me and the millions of like minded dudes out there would gather around the Saturday of All-Star weekend hoping for a return to glory, and it didn't matter what the end result was because the we watched it anyway. That would explain why this year Nate Robinson was qued up to win his un matched 3rd dunk contest (Side Note: I was so disgusted with the dunk contest, I stormed out after the last dunks knowing DeMar DeRozan had won. I became physically ill when I found out because of the fan text messaging vote, Nate Robinson had been named the victor).
Yes, little Nate Robinson won his 3rd contest. Michael Jordan, Jason Richardson, Dominique Wilkins are all two time winners, but lil' Nate has passed them all by.
I understood the first one. Atleast I understood the novelty of it. Here is Nate Robinson, billed in at 5'8" but showing off what some might call super human leaping abillity. I have seen him cleanly check Yao Ming on a jump shot. I understand why he won the first one. It made sense. It's exciting to see a short man get up there, especially with some of the style he was doing it with.
How does he win a second? Are kids voting for him because he is there size? It's sure not because he deserved to win. He misses his first attempt at EVERY dunk. Then we just give him credit because he is mini-sized. Not cool.
That being said, it's not like we had better options (DeRozan should've won. He had the best dunk of the night, hands down. But thats what we get when the NBA gets to put no name bench players in a contest and then allows fans to vote). Who had a chance to beat the novelty of a guy so short he looks like he is jumping from a trampoline? Gerald Wallace? Please, he looked like he owed some Wise Guy money and said Wise Guy told him to take a dive.
Or we got Shannon Brown. Acutally that one smarts a bit. I actually picked him to win. The guy can fly, and he had been openly campaigning to get into this years contest. He wanted in so bad that there was a website put up for the purpose of letting Shannon dunk (it was creativly called letshannondunk.com). Yet he came out almost as bad as Wallace.
Seriously, Shawn Bradly is somewhere right now commenting on their lack of creativity in the air.
This years contest was rotten like a yeast infection. And despite watching it on my dads couch, I wanted my money back. I felt bad for everyone that dropped top dollar prices to watch these dudes hack it up.
I bet if you polled everyone who watched the even (on tv or live) if they'd rather sit through that again or watch 6 people suffering from autism dunking off trampolines (to prove this isn't an autism joke, so all proceeds from my fantasy All-Star event would go to benift autism research) I would venture a guess the majority would say, "BRING ON THE F***ING TRAMPOLINES!"
The Dunk Contest spit on the trust I had given her, and I'm not sure if I can forgive her for it. She is a cold hearted bitch. I gave her another chance after last years Nate Robinson dibacle (if you bring it up to my brother, you will trigger the following reaction: He will shit his pants, start swearing at you, and then punch you so hard that you will, in turn, shit your pants. So lets not talk about it). But then she turned right around and stooped to a new low.
I can never forgive her. I will not come back. I will not give her another chance.
(unless she gets a boob job. And by boob job I mean LeBron comes to play).
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Congrats New Orleans (Mardi Gras starts Early this year)
Wrong, wrong, wrong. I couldn't have been more wrong if I even wanted to. Lets recap the predictions from earlier:
Reggie Bush didn't score. Thomas won the battle of the Pierres by matching Garcon's touchdown but racking up more total yards. Manning toppled the 300 yard marker but didn't come close to the 4 touchdowns (or the MVP) and Brees missed the 350 yard marker by a solid 62 yards. And lets not forget, The Colts didn't score 41 points, nor did the win.
The Saints of New Orleans took care of that last part.
I can't be mad about it. What kind of monster would be (only acceptable answer is: if you're driving around your town right now after watching The Colts blow the game trying to figure out a way to tell your family that your child will not be going to college unless he gets a job to pay for it). We should feel happy for the city, and for the people involved. We know about the Hurricane that destroyed their city. We know about how this team has become the great escape for the hardships that the Big Easy faces.
We know about the season they had. Admit it, they had a great year. They were undefeated for 13 weeks and finished 13-3. We all know about Sean Payton, who took the Saints coaching job after Katrina not even sure how long the Saints would be playing in New Orleans. They were coming off horrendous seasons, and were in the middle of a natural disaster. How could they expect anyone paying to see a shitty team. The franchise as a whole had 2 playoff wins in it's entire existence. That didn't phase him. He viewed it as an opportunity. Look at him now, he has created the most exciting offense in the NFL and is getting fitted for his championship ring as we speak.
We know about Drew Brees. Drafted out of Perdue in 2001 by the San Diego Chargers. He didn't produce a lot of wins in his first three years and threw more INT's then Touchdowns (29-31 if you need the stats). Feeling like Brees wasn't the answer and they needed a change, San Diego drafted Eli (the younger) Manning(In case you forgot about that debacle I'll give you a recap: Eli was drafted by the Chargers. Eli refused to play in San Diego because he hates half naked girls and sunshine. Eli demanded a trade. And in a move of genius San Diego swaps Eli for Philip Rivers and Cash. Rivers has put up awesome fantasy stats but Eli has a ring).
Brees looked like the odd man out. But when Rivers held out for more dough he got a second chance and took advantage. Led San Diego back to the playoffs while throwing 27 Touchdowns and posting a 104 quarterback rating. San Diego made up it's mind though. And after five seasons they just let Drew Brees walk away.
He came to New Orleans, and not only has been the key to rebuilding a franchise but has had a huge hand in rebuilding a community. His mother died over the summer (they had a falling out a couple of years ago, but still, thats his mom) and he had a baby in the last year.
As he held his baby at the podium tonight, accepting his MVP trophy, you could see every emotion run through his face. He fought back the tears and thanked God, and called his little boy his "inspiration".
Drew, thats not your inspiration. Thats your good luck charm.
The Saints weren't supposed to win. Vegas had them as a 5 point dog to the 3 time (possibly soon to be 4 time) MVP Peyton Manning and his Indianapolis Colts. The line could've been 7. Both teams packed explosive offenses. Neither team kept opposing offensive coordinators up at night. This felt like it was going to be the game we talked about when Mannings name came up 30 years from now. It felt like he was going to do something statistically mind numbing. Thats what was supposed to happen.
It was easy to forget that Drew Brees threw for 5000 yards last year. And threw another 4300 yards and 34 touchdowns this year. I mean for how good he is, how could he out duel Manning? Brees doesn't have an MVP, he doesn't have a ring and he doesn't have an SNL appearance. Peyton had all three. His team finished with a better record and put away opponents more convincingly throughout the playoffs. Clearly this was his game to win.
It made too much sense.
Plus, how often does the best story win the Superbowl? The Saints had the rabid, tortured fanbase. They had their city torn down. Their franchise had done a complete 180 over the last four years. How often does that team win?
The Giants didn't capture the World Series after the earthquake. Mariners didn't win when they won 116 games after loosing three of the biggest stars in successive seasons. Brett Favre lost in the NFC title game in his last game as a Packer (the best story would've been if he took them to the Superbowl, won, then retired). The Patriots were 18-0 heading into the Superbowl in 2007, then lost to the Giants.
We never get the BEST story.
So here comes the Saints. The 5 point dogs. The City on the mend and a tortured franchise. Down 10-0 with everyone thinking "Holy shit Peyton is going to tear them apart." The narrowed the score to 10-6 by half time on two second quarter field goals, then completely dominated the Colts by outscoring them 25-7 in the second half.
Down 24-17, Manning set out to do what he has done so many times, drive down the field with the game winding down for a game deciding score. He had 5 minutes to get the touchdown. We've seen it before, we knew how this was going to end. The question wasn't IF the Colts were going to score, it was how much time they were going to leave the Saints.
At least thats what we thought was going to happen.
All that changed when Manning through an errant pass to Reggie Wayne, and Terrance Porter picked the pass off and took it straight back into the endzone. Un touched. 31-17. Ball game. Congratulations to The New Orleans Saints, Drew Brees, Sean Payton, and the people of New Orleans. You played a great game and absolutely deserved that win. Party on Bourbon Street.
Reggie Bush didn't score. Thomas won the battle of the Pierres by matching Garcon's touchdown but racking up more total yards. Manning toppled the 300 yard marker but didn't come close to the 4 touchdowns (or the MVP) and Brees missed the 350 yard marker by a solid 62 yards. And lets not forget, The Colts didn't score 41 points, nor did the win.
The Saints of New Orleans took care of that last part.
I can't be mad about it. What kind of monster would be (only acceptable answer is: if you're driving around your town right now after watching The Colts blow the game trying to figure out a way to tell your family that your child will not be going to college unless he gets a job to pay for it). We should feel happy for the city, and for the people involved. We know about the Hurricane that destroyed their city. We know about how this team has become the great escape for the hardships that the Big Easy faces.
We know about the season they had. Admit it, they had a great year. They were undefeated for 13 weeks and finished 13-3. We all know about Sean Payton, who took the Saints coaching job after Katrina not even sure how long the Saints would be playing in New Orleans. They were coming off horrendous seasons, and were in the middle of a natural disaster. How could they expect anyone paying to see a shitty team. The franchise as a whole had 2 playoff wins in it's entire existence. That didn't phase him. He viewed it as an opportunity. Look at him now, he has created the most exciting offense in the NFL and is getting fitted for his championship ring as we speak.
We know about Drew Brees. Drafted out of Perdue in 2001 by the San Diego Chargers. He didn't produce a lot of wins in his first three years and threw more INT's then Touchdowns (29-31 if you need the stats). Feeling like Brees wasn't the answer and they needed a change, San Diego drafted Eli (the younger) Manning(In case you forgot about that debacle I'll give you a recap: Eli was drafted by the Chargers. Eli refused to play in San Diego because he hates half naked girls and sunshine. Eli demanded a trade. And in a move of genius San Diego swaps Eli for Philip Rivers and Cash. Rivers has put up awesome fantasy stats but Eli has a ring).
Brees looked like the odd man out. But when Rivers held out for more dough he got a second chance and took advantage. Led San Diego back to the playoffs while throwing 27 Touchdowns and posting a 104 quarterback rating. San Diego made up it's mind though. And after five seasons they just let Drew Brees walk away.
He came to New Orleans, and not only has been the key to rebuilding a franchise but has had a huge hand in rebuilding a community. His mother died over the summer (they had a falling out a couple of years ago, but still, thats his mom) and he had a baby in the last year.
As he held his baby at the podium tonight, accepting his MVP trophy, you could see every emotion run through his face. He fought back the tears and thanked God, and called his little boy his "inspiration".
Drew, thats not your inspiration. Thats your good luck charm.
The Saints weren't supposed to win. Vegas had them as a 5 point dog to the 3 time (possibly soon to be 4 time) MVP Peyton Manning and his Indianapolis Colts. The line could've been 7. Both teams packed explosive offenses. Neither team kept opposing offensive coordinators up at night. This felt like it was going to be the game we talked about when Mannings name came up 30 years from now. It felt like he was going to do something statistically mind numbing. Thats what was supposed to happen.
It was easy to forget that Drew Brees threw for 5000 yards last year. And threw another 4300 yards and 34 touchdowns this year. I mean for how good he is, how could he out duel Manning? Brees doesn't have an MVP, he doesn't have a ring and he doesn't have an SNL appearance. Peyton had all three. His team finished with a better record and put away opponents more convincingly throughout the playoffs. Clearly this was his game to win.
It made too much sense.
Plus, how often does the best story win the Superbowl? The Saints had the rabid, tortured fanbase. They had their city torn down. Their franchise had done a complete 180 over the last four years. How often does that team win?
The Giants didn't capture the World Series after the earthquake. Mariners didn't win when they won 116 games after loosing three of the biggest stars in successive seasons. Brett Favre lost in the NFC title game in his last game as a Packer (the best story would've been if he took them to the Superbowl, won, then retired). The Patriots were 18-0 heading into the Superbowl in 2007, then lost to the Giants.
We never get the BEST story.
So here comes the Saints. The 5 point dogs. The City on the mend and a tortured franchise. Down 10-0 with everyone thinking "Holy shit Peyton is going to tear them apart." The narrowed the score to 10-6 by half time on two second quarter field goals, then completely dominated the Colts by outscoring them 25-7 in the second half.
Down 24-17, Manning set out to do what he has done so many times, drive down the field with the game winding down for a game deciding score. He had 5 minutes to get the touchdown. We've seen it before, we knew how this was going to end. The question wasn't IF the Colts were going to score, it was how much time they were going to leave the Saints.
At least thats what we thought was going to happen.
All that changed when Manning through an errant pass to Reggie Wayne, and Terrance Porter picked the pass off and took it straight back into the endzone. Un touched. 31-17. Ball game. Congratulations to The New Orleans Saints, Drew Brees, Sean Payton, and the people of New Orleans. You played a great game and absolutely deserved that win. Party on Bourbon Street.
Very Brief Superbowl Predictions
Superbowl starts in a little under an hour. For the second straight year I'm going to be absent from the Superbowl party scene. I'm ok with that. It'll just be the girlfriend, the princess and me at my dads, minus my dad and family (they will be attending the SuperBowl Party Scene).
We decided not to do the whole thing because Girlfriend seems to be under the weather (keeping up with the theme of the Saints being in the superbowl, we'll call the weather she is under "hurricane Katrina" like.)
Since I won't be out and about to pound my chest about my knoweledge, let me go ahead and put my sports predictions out there so we have undeniable proof that I'm smart. Or a total blowhard. After all, it'll be on the internet (and the internet NEVER lies).
The Score: Colts 38- Saints 28. Colts are giving five in Vegas so I feel like it's still a safe bet.
The MVP: Peyton. Duh. Dudes gonna have like 320 yards and 4 touchdowns. Chalk it up.
Brees Numbers: 350 yards 3 touchdowns 0 picks. Saints turnovers will come thanks to the fumble.
That battle of the Pierres (Thomas for the Saints, Garcon for the Colts): Uh, Garcon.
Who scores the first touchdown: It will be the Saints, and it'll be a dump off to Reggie Bush.
Alright, time to get started on my Nachos. Enjoy the game, bitches.
We decided not to do the whole thing because Girlfriend seems to be under the weather (keeping up with the theme of the Saints being in the superbowl, we'll call the weather she is under "hurricane Katrina" like.)
Since I won't be out and about to pound my chest about my knoweledge, let me go ahead and put my sports predictions out there so we have undeniable proof that I'm smart. Or a total blowhard. After all, it'll be on the internet (and the internet NEVER lies).
The Score: Colts 38- Saints 28. Colts are giving five in Vegas so I feel like it's still a safe bet.
The MVP: Peyton. Duh. Dudes gonna have like 320 yards and 4 touchdowns. Chalk it up.
Brees Numbers: 350 yards 3 touchdowns 0 picks. Saints turnovers will come thanks to the fumble.
That battle of the Pierres (Thomas for the Saints, Garcon for the Colts): Uh, Garcon.
Who scores the first touchdown: It will be the Saints, and it'll be a dump off to Reggie Bush.
Alright, time to get started on my Nachos. Enjoy the game, bitches.
Monday, February 1, 2010
an Ode(n) to stupid Apolgies.
In lue of Greg Odens recent "exposure" to the world and Gilbert Arenas putting new meaning to the words, "shooting guard" I felt like I should express some commentary. As I read the stories I could feel the inspiration over take me. I had been abducted. I sat down and started to write what would upon completion, could only have been described as an "awesome show of power, and command of the English language." A rant for the ages about athletes, their constant discressions, and the subsiquent (B.S)apologies.
But I've changed my mind. Kind of.
I changed my mind in the idea of making a big thing about it. These atheletes are humans and as such they screw up. But unlike when I screw up, they're screw up's are monotered, discussed and scrutanized to the point where it could potentially cost them millions of dollars (see Kobe Bryant, Eagle Colorado 2005).
In that regards, I get why they are constantly releasing these cookie cutter apologies for everything. I don't like it, but I get it.
Gilbert brought guns to the gym. I get the apology there. That move is illegal, and he could do some jail time. Also, his team has paid him 20 million dollars the last couple seasons to a) miss a whole season due to injury, and now miss the majority due to suspension.
The apology was needed there. However, Gilbert (who blogs like crazy) did the road less traveled. He opted to write an apology letter and had it published through the Washington Post. He wrote it, not his agent. To that I say, sir well done.
Tiger had to apologize to the WORLD for cheating on his wife. Why? We aren't his family. It doesn't effect us. If you are at all hurt by Tiger being a douche then you need to re-evaluate your life. He is a public figure so I understand the interest in the gossip. But why does he feel like he needs to make a public apology?
What Tiger needs to do is sit his family down, apologize to his wife till it's annoying...let her simmer on it, and move on.
(and if he loses endorsments or business opertunities because of this, well I guess thats life bro. There will be others. Lets face it, at the end of the day the dude is still Tiger Woods. And when he decides it's time to pick the clubs again, everyone involved in the sports world is going to want him hawking their gear. Cheata' or not.)
Then there is Greg Oden. Greg recently apologized for his penis making it's debut to the internet. This one is the most confusing thing ever. What did he do wrong? He sent a picture of him and his tri-pod to a girlfriend, a year and a half ago. He is not the first 19 year old to have done this. Trust me, I use to sell cell phones, and I have friends who still sell cell phones. G.O. is not the first dude, or chick, to have done this.
Why should he apologize? He didn't slap them on there. He had no control over that. It's not like he sits at home and was like, " I need more press, time for everyone to see why my number is '52'." Nope, some lady (and really, after a stunt like that we should call her a bitch)desides to break trust and throw his goods for the world to see.
Is it a bad example for kids? Yes. But according to the news, 12 years old are doing these types of stunts before Oden's were leaked. I don't see an often injured, overly critisized center starting the naked picture revolution within the 12 yearold community.
If you want to blame anyone for kids and naked pictures it's their parents for giving them a camera phone and the means to send picture mail. Retards.
The injured center did release a statement saying, "I would like to apologize to everybody: Portland, the fans, the organization. It was very embarrassing."
But why!? Why does Greg gotta apologize for this? He already got kicked in the nuts, now he's gotta smile? It's embarrassing enough for the kid. Isn't it bad enough that some lady (again, bitch is more accurate) betrayed him and what was left of the trust that they once had?
Let him lick his wounds in piece. If you're offended by the sight of a 7 footers meat, well then don't google it. Move on.
These are personal matters, yet they double as Sportcenter Headlines. Just Imagine it if we had to apologize for mondane shit like they do.
Headline: Clinicallyawesome writer Andrew Belvin is in trouble today with Girlfriend after leaving the toilet seat up-yet again.
To which I'd have to appologize (though my agent and lawyer ofcourse): First of all I'd like to apologize to all my fans, who I've let down through my recent transgressions. It was a matter of oversight and neglegence and I should've known better. I'd like to say sorry to blogspot.com for the black mark I've put on the organization. Most importantly, I'd like to say sorry to my girlfriend. Who because of my selfishness and shortsightness, has sat in the toilet water again. I'm truly sorry."
I want you to know I laughed while writing that, because thats what they all are. If you aren't sorry, don't say it. If you really are sorry, then make us see that. Do as Gilbert as done (first and last time I will say that). If it's not our business, don't apologize to us, Tiger. And for the love of God, if you don't want to see Oden's penis, then don't type in any combonation of Oden + nude (or penis) in your Google search.
That'll be all.
But I've changed my mind. Kind of.
I changed my mind in the idea of making a big thing about it. These atheletes are humans and as such they screw up. But unlike when I screw up, they're screw up's are monotered, discussed and scrutanized to the point where it could potentially cost them millions of dollars (see Kobe Bryant, Eagle Colorado 2005).
In that regards, I get why they are constantly releasing these cookie cutter apologies for everything. I don't like it, but I get it.
Gilbert brought guns to the gym. I get the apology there. That move is illegal, and he could do some jail time. Also, his team has paid him 20 million dollars the last couple seasons to a) miss a whole season due to injury, and now miss the majority due to suspension.
The apology was needed there. However, Gilbert (who blogs like crazy) did the road less traveled. He opted to write an apology letter and had it published through the Washington Post. He wrote it, not his agent. To that I say, sir well done.
Tiger had to apologize to the WORLD for cheating on his wife. Why? We aren't his family. It doesn't effect us. If you are at all hurt by Tiger being a douche then you need to re-evaluate your life. He is a public figure so I understand the interest in the gossip. But why does he feel like he needs to make a public apology?
What Tiger needs to do is sit his family down, apologize to his wife till it's annoying...let her simmer on it, and move on.
(and if he loses endorsments or business opertunities because of this, well I guess thats life bro. There will be others. Lets face it, at the end of the day the dude is still Tiger Woods. And when he decides it's time to pick the clubs again, everyone involved in the sports world is going to want him hawking their gear. Cheata' or not.)
Then there is Greg Oden. Greg recently apologized for his penis making it's debut to the internet. This one is the most confusing thing ever. What did he do wrong? He sent a picture of him and his tri-pod to a girlfriend, a year and a half ago. He is not the first 19 year old to have done this. Trust me, I use to sell cell phones, and I have friends who still sell cell phones. G.O. is not the first dude, or chick, to have done this.
Why should he apologize? He didn't slap them on there. He had no control over that. It's not like he sits at home and was like, " I need more press, time for everyone to see why my number is '52'." Nope, some lady (and really, after a stunt like that we should call her a bitch)desides to break trust and throw his goods for the world to see.
Is it a bad example for kids? Yes. But according to the news, 12 years old are doing these types of stunts before Oden's were leaked. I don't see an often injured, overly critisized center starting the naked picture revolution within the 12 yearold community.
If you want to blame anyone for kids and naked pictures it's their parents for giving them a camera phone and the means to send picture mail. Retards.
The injured center did release a statement saying, "I would like to apologize to everybody: Portland, the fans, the organization. It was very embarrassing."
But why!? Why does Greg gotta apologize for this? He already got kicked in the nuts, now he's gotta smile? It's embarrassing enough for the kid. Isn't it bad enough that some lady (again, bitch is more accurate) betrayed him and what was left of the trust that they once had?
Let him lick his wounds in piece. If you're offended by the sight of a 7 footers meat, well then don't google it. Move on.
These are personal matters, yet they double as Sportcenter Headlines. Just Imagine it if we had to apologize for mondane shit like they do.
Headline: Clinicallyawesome writer Andrew Belvin is in trouble today with Girlfriend after leaving the toilet seat up-yet again.
To which I'd have to appologize (though my agent and lawyer ofcourse): First of all I'd like to apologize to all my fans, who I've let down through my recent transgressions. It was a matter of oversight and neglegence and I should've known better. I'd like to say sorry to blogspot.com for the black mark I've put on the organization. Most importantly, I'd like to say sorry to my girlfriend. Who because of my selfishness and shortsightness, has sat in the toilet water again. I'm truly sorry."
I want you to know I laughed while writing that, because thats what they all are. If you aren't sorry, don't say it. If you really are sorry, then make us see that. Do as Gilbert as done (first and last time I will say that). If it's not our business, don't apologize to us, Tiger. And for the love of God, if you don't want to see Oden's penis, then don't type in any combonation of Oden + nude (or penis) in your Google search.
That'll be all.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Birthday BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lets go a head and take a moment to wish me a Happy Birthday.
Thank you.
Now let me hit you with some quick awesomeness. I had my first beer in almost a month the friday night. Well techniqually it was Saturday morning, but you get the point.
We went bowling for my birthday. I was really struggling with ideas on what to do since I couldn't black out and all (doctor still has me on booze lockdown). So last minute I decided bowling would have to work (though I hate bowling).
Not a big crowd, but just enough to make me feel appreciated. And that was cool.
Any who, we went to Big Al's, and we bowled. Shocking, I managed to find enjoyment in a sport I hate, without alcohol. I found it through monsterous cups of Mountain Dew. Yes, the old stand by came through again.
Like a solid booty call, Mountain Dew is there whenever you need it. She doesn't get jealous when she hears you've been drinking Pepsi. She doesn't stop answering when her friends saw you at a bar with Jack and Coke. She is good to you wheter you drink it in the morning or in the evening. And tonight was no different. Mountain Dew took care of me tonight. Thanks old friend.
However, Mountain Dew can only go so far when everyone else is getting shitfaced. By the end of the night, I just wanted to taste a beer. Not have one, just taste one. After all, the doctor said no, and I'm trying to get healthy.
But I'm only a man, and a man has needs.
The night started slipping away, and the beers my crew were putting down were starting to mock me. "You know you want us." They would say. I could hear them whisper when I would walk passed Danes pitcher. Girlfriends Long Island Ice Tea would bat her eyes at me when she saw me looking.
I had to have it. I went to sample Danes beer. One sip won't kill me. It won't mess up my liver even more then it is. I'm sure of it. Dane saw what I was doing and he slapped my hand, "No! You have mono, bitch." the hand print on my the top side of my had served as the doctors will. It was as if he was Omnipresent and my buddy Dane was being occupied as his Vessel of Goodhealth Security.
I should've listend to the warning of the slap. But the mono hadn't just effected my liver, it's also depleted my ability to resist temptations. I desired beer, and I'll be damned if I wasn't going to submit to my OWN desires on my birthday.
Dane walked away from his beer. I had a moment, but only a moment, to act. I quickly grabbed the straw from my Mountain Dew, plunged it into the cup of Coors Light (it was Coors Light, no doubt) and sipped. I sipped like a thirsty toddler.
Once it touched my lips...oh so good. A little warm, but so good.
I had to have more.
One friend of mine in attendance is a nurse in training. So I decided to check in with her. After I explained the situation, she informed me that as long as I don't get shitfaced and then do it the rest of the weekend, that I should be fine. It was her theory that the Doctor just assumed that when I asked "can I drink?" it was code for "can I drink lots, and often."
I felt comfortable with that answer, and went on to enjoy three more beers that night.
All in all a great night, and I want to thank everyone who came out (even if I don't know you that well).
Here are some random thoughts about my Birthday and other stuff:
- Girlfriend saw to it that all my good times were paid for. Seriously, she is so awesome it's getting to the point where its going to be awefully hard to replace her. Which is awkward since the lease is up in two months and I had planned on trading her in for a younger model.
- To my friends Michelle and Andy, congratuations on the engagement. It's about time.
- Some of the classic names for the Scoreboard : Dragonslayer was my brother and Rusty Trombone was yours truly.
- Got to watch my girlfriend get hit on relentlessly while posted up at the bar. Never thought I'd actually find enjoyment thought that. But I did. It might have something to do with the fact that she shut these dudes down hard without knowing I was behind her. Again, she's making it hard.
- Uh, Taco Bell's queasadilla is whats going on at 3 am. Put some hot sauce on that and passing out no longer seems like a good idea.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
I am the Monkey from Outbreak.
I feel like the monkey from Outbreak (90's movie reference, suck it). Yes my illness is still running rampant, now people around me are starting to show signs of my illness. Stepmom was just informed last week that she has mono( a week before that, my doctor informed me that I too had Mono). Girlfriend is starting to develop a little rashipoo in the same places that mine started out. Girlfriends roommate was even under the weather with fever and stuff for the last week or so. Sweet.
It's like I have the King Dick Virus and I'm handing out variations of my symptoms to my disciples. Not the way I imagined leaving my mark on this world, but I guess beggers can't be choosers.
On a serious note, I'm really excited about the idea of being healthy again. I've been going to the doctors on and off for a few weeks now. They've taken blood five times. They've given me an ultra sound (Yeah, it's a boy). They've tested me for HIV (again) mono(which came back negative, but they still say I had it) hepatitis A-Z, and all my Liver functions (remember those were the ones that were coming back screwy).
Shit, they've even accused, questioned and tested me for drugs. Twice.
The only rememdy or advise they've given me is no booze, no gym and go buy this expensive medication that we aren't giving you a prescription to so you will stop itching. Even though it has the same functions as Benadryl, the medication I have been using that has shown results in the amount of exactly dick.
Uh, really?!
Actually lets talk about that for a second. They wanted me to get Zyrtec. Which from all accounts is an allergy medicine. I went to WalMart to go buy some the other night, and it was something in the neighborhood 24 dollars for like 18 pills. First of all, no. Second of all, you can suck it if you think my broke self is going to buy that.
Zyrtec protects against: Runny Nose, Sneezing, Itchy-watery eyes, Itching of the Nose or the throat and Nasal Congestion.
Zyrtec Needs to Protect Against (if they want me to spend that kind of money on it): Red polkadot like rash on arms and legs. Unforgiveable levels of itchiness constantly burning all over my body. Huge Hives that pop up on my back. A rash that has formed on, around, and inside the crack of my ass. Just to name a few places.
So imagine my disapointment in where I got my health insurance through, when after yet another sleepless night due to the fact that I was scratching my body till I bled (no joke I have bruises and cuts all over my body from scracthing. I look like a meth addict with good teeth.) they informed me that I should get Zyrtec.
Ok lets recap. At this point, the doctors have taken a guess on what I have ( I call it a guess, because I'm pretty sure they're testing me for other stuff still). But they have told me I have Epstein Barr Virus. Which matches the Mono (that I may or may not have had) and the biblically evil rash (which I do have. That is confirmed). Yet for whatever reason, THEY REFUSE TO SUBSCRIBE ME SOME F**KING MEDICINE TO MAKE THE RASH GO AWAY!!!!
"oh, Mr. Belvin, just take Zyrtec it'll make your rash go away"
"oh it will?! You mean this Benadryl subsitute that does nothing for my symptoms is the best you can come up with?! Really? REALLY!? No. I will NOT take Zyrtec."
"But Zyrtec will help control the itching."
" I don't care about the 'itching'. I care about the rash that make me look like I have Leporsy. I don't want to 'control' the itch. I WANT THE RASH TO GO AWAY. THE WHOLE THING. Give me a f**king steroid or something and make this rash go away. DO YOUR JOB"
It's just stupid.
I've been told lately I've been too negative. That I've been too grumpy. Which in hindsight, I have. I haven't been able to go to the gym, I had to stay sober on my brothers 21st, I haven't felt creative enough to do any writing. I've been annoyed and grumpy. But you would be too if your junk felt like it was on fire. Or if you had an unsatisfiable urge to itch your ass crack all night.
I know I talked about this already in my last blog, but I was sitting here at work and all day, all I could think about was how I would much rather just cheese-grade all my skin off then put up with this shit another day. Look at my words again, I'm serious, this is my serious font.
I can tell you this right now. I have a doctor appointment at 8:50 am tomorrow. I promise you right now, if I don't have a subscription in my hand for something that will let me get on with my life, the leading story on the news will be 'Man freaks out at doctors office, assults three nurses, two doctors and punts a sick baby. More at 10:00'.
Ps. Sorry Stepmom, Girlfriend, and whoever else I have caused to get sick lately. It's not my fault. It's Kaisers for worry too much about my recreational life and not figuring out whats wrong with me.
It's like I have the King Dick Virus and I'm handing out variations of my symptoms to my disciples. Not the way I imagined leaving my mark on this world, but I guess beggers can't be choosers.
On a serious note, I'm really excited about the idea of being healthy again. I've been going to the doctors on and off for a few weeks now. They've taken blood five times. They've given me an ultra sound (Yeah, it's a boy). They've tested me for HIV (again) mono(which came back negative, but they still say I had it) hepatitis A-Z, and all my Liver functions (remember those were the ones that were coming back screwy).
Shit, they've even accused, questioned and tested me for drugs. Twice.
The only rememdy or advise they've given me is no booze, no gym and go buy this expensive medication that we aren't giving you a prescription to so you will stop itching. Even though it has the same functions as Benadryl, the medication I have been using that has shown results in the amount of exactly dick.
Uh, really?!
Actually lets talk about that for a second. They wanted me to get Zyrtec. Which from all accounts is an allergy medicine. I went to WalMart to go buy some the other night, and it was something in the neighborhood 24 dollars for like 18 pills. First of all, no. Second of all, you can suck it if you think my broke self is going to buy that.
Zyrtec protects against: Runny Nose, Sneezing, Itchy-watery eyes, Itching of the Nose or the throat and Nasal Congestion.
Zyrtec Needs to Protect Against (if they want me to spend that kind of money on it): Red polkadot like rash on arms and legs. Unforgiveable levels of itchiness constantly burning all over my body. Huge Hives that pop up on my back. A rash that has formed on, around, and inside the crack of my ass. Just to name a few places.
So imagine my disapointment in where I got my health insurance through, when after yet another sleepless night due to the fact that I was scratching my body till I bled (no joke I have bruises and cuts all over my body from scracthing. I look like a meth addict with good teeth.) they informed me that I should get Zyrtec.
Ok lets recap. At this point, the doctors have taken a guess on what I have ( I call it a guess, because I'm pretty sure they're testing me for other stuff still). But they have told me I have Epstein Barr Virus. Which matches the Mono (that I may or may not have had) and the biblically evil rash (which I do have. That is confirmed). Yet for whatever reason, THEY REFUSE TO SUBSCRIBE ME SOME F**KING MEDICINE TO MAKE THE RASH GO AWAY!!!!
"oh, Mr. Belvin, just take Zyrtec it'll make your rash go away"
"oh it will?! You mean this Benadryl subsitute that does nothing for my symptoms is the best you can come up with?! Really? REALLY!? No. I will NOT take Zyrtec."
"But Zyrtec will help control the itching."
" I don't care about the 'itching'. I care about the rash that make me look like I have Leporsy. I don't want to 'control' the itch. I WANT THE RASH TO GO AWAY. THE WHOLE THING. Give me a f**king steroid or something and make this rash go away. DO YOUR JOB"
It's just stupid.
I've been told lately I've been too negative. That I've been too grumpy. Which in hindsight, I have. I haven't been able to go to the gym, I had to stay sober on my brothers 21st, I haven't felt creative enough to do any writing. I've been annoyed and grumpy. But you would be too if your junk felt like it was on fire. Or if you had an unsatisfiable urge to itch your ass crack all night.
I know I talked about this already in my last blog, but I was sitting here at work and all day, all I could think about was how I would much rather just cheese-grade all my skin off then put up with this shit another day. Look at my words again, I'm serious, this is my serious font.
I can tell you this right now. I have a doctor appointment at 8:50 am tomorrow. I promise you right now, if I don't have a subscription in my hand for something that will let me get on with my life, the leading story on the news will be 'Man freaks out at doctors office, assults three nurses, two doctors and punts a sick baby. More at 10:00'.
Ps. Sorry Stepmom, Girlfriend, and whoever else I have caused to get sick lately. It's not my fault. It's Kaisers for worry too much about my recreational life and not figuring out whats wrong with me.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Pete Carroll Makes my Penis Itch
Welcome to the new year! Like a thief in the night, 2010 is here and 2009. And I can safely say 2010 sucks balls. I guess itches would be more accurate. More on that in a minute.
I haven't been telling tales of Awesomeness as of late simply because life has been crazy. Well that and I've haven't been awesome. And because I'm too self absorbed to share my issues with the world. Or do I share my ideas with the world because I'm self absorbed. Shit.
Never the less, I'm going to stop depriving you all of things I've had to say over the last month. So lets catch you up.
First, I finally became a real man and bought myself a car. It was an ordeal. I can't imagine buying a car being that difficult for everyone, because if it were people wouldn't buy cars. Car buying would be few and far in between. It was not an enjoyable activity for me. I'd compare it to a bad hangover.
When I got the car I felt awesome. Holy Crap! A great car for a (seemingly) low price. Seemingly because I had no idea what was going on. First night no buyers remorse. Second day, after I discussed the deal with the wise sages, I was informed that I got kinda fisted. Do you know whats it like to have a figurative fist up your ass? It's probably not as painful as physically putting a fist up your ass, but it's gotta be close. Then I almost lost a buddy over it. Definitely lost a few dollars. Not the wisest decision. But in the end, the result is the same...DADDY HAS A CAR!
Second was Christmas. Christmas is always a hectic time. Between work, fun stuff and family time, there is no time to sleep. Like at all. I got two families. Mom side, dads side. Christmas is split up into two days. Christmas Eve for mom, Christmas Day for dad. Only this year we added a little wrinkle to the madness....Girlfriends family. Yes, I had to find a way to fit three Christmas' into two days.
There is a happy ending to this story, everyone got to sample the holiday cheer I bring to the table. But by 10 pm Christmas day, after the Blazers had secured a victory over the Denver Nuggets (and a breath taking offensive performance from his Roy-ness) I was crashed out and asleep. Like coma victim sleep. I woke up for work seven hours later actually refreshed and ready to roll.
Actually, I wasn't totally refreshed. Awake yes. But that day I had a monster fuckin headache at work. Which brings us to number 3. The headache lead to me consuming more then the alloted amount of IBProfrin for the day. Estimation 3000 milagram (can't confirm that because I'm pretty sure I consumed it while I was half asleep. All we know is the next day I had chills, a wicked fever and a furious stomach).
So for about a week, my body didn't feel right. Minor fever here, bitchy headache there. Plus I noticed that my legs and been super itchy for a few days...and it was spreading... like to my ass. By New Years day, we had upgraded to headaches that could only be compared to all the worst parts of the Bible and I was throwing up delicious breakfast (no, not a hangover, I was designated driver. Actually, I have a great story to tell about THAT night but out of respect to some of the people involved...I think I'll let it slide).
For the next week and half my day consisted of this: wake up with a headache that made me want to rip out baby's throats. And by the end of the day I had 104 temperature. The Girlfriend would demand everynight that I go see the Doctor. I disagreed. I hate going to the doctors.
After over a week of that shit, I succumbed to The Girlfriends wishes and went and saw the Doctor. Not my normal doctor, but I saw a doctor. This doctor was a little off (I wanted to get in asap so I didn't get to see the same doctor from the 'Clean at Last' blog). It took me a while to notice the doctors possible craziness. In retrospect, I should've picked up instantly when I realized that she looked like a female version of Gary Bussy. For whatever reason my brain didn't attatch the 'could be crazy' tag to this doctor at that time.
So there I am, early in the morning. In comes Bussy. She asks probing questions, looks at my rash on my back and stomach. Pulls my pants down a little bit to examine it on my ass. A little alarming, because she could've just asked and I would've pulled them down. The little tug sent me straight in rape pervention mode.
After a piss test, chest x ray, and 7 viles of blood all Gary Bussy could tell me was that I did NOT have Bacterial Meningitis. Her explanation about how she came to this conclusion was a little troublesome. She joked, "I know you don't have Bacterial Meningitis because if you did, you'd be dead.HAHAHHAAHA" Awesome. Upon further review, she might've been crazier then Gary Bussy.
The Forth thing,which strangely was the biggest head scratcher of all my moments was finding out the Seahawks had fired Jim Mora after one season. Then turned aaround and hired Pete Caroll over the course of a three day span.
Lets review. Jan 8th, Jim Mora is told to look for a new job. Later that day it is reported early favorite is Pete Carroll (who IS NOT running from possible punishment from the NCAA for players from his Juggernaut title teams seemingly being paid to play college football. Don't even question his motives for getting back into the NFL). Pete initially responds saying he 'isn't very interested in the position'. Jan 9th, it's reported on ESPN that Pete and the Seahawks are "very close to a deal".
Confused yet?! Good, I'll keep going.
Jan 11th Seahawks and Carroll agree to a five year deal to bring his act back to the NFL (again, not running from NCAA and the spanking he was sure to recieve).
Couple things to bring up:
1. Pete already tried the NFL. He wasn't good. He got fired from the Jets after one year and 6-10. Then he un-successfully took over the Patriots(the season after they made the Superbowl under the Big Tuna) and within three seasons had them missing the playoffs and yes, got fired. His three seasons coaching in Foxboro, 27-21 (0-2 in the playoffs).
2. Was this the quickest negotiations ever?! This tells me a few things. One, Paul Allen really had a boner for the idea of Pete being available. Two, Pete Carroll must've really wanted back in the NFL (again, not because he didn't want to have his hands tied while recruiting. It was simply for love of the game and competition).
3. We tied our hands when hiring Mora, and not allowing us to persue Gruden, Shanahan, or Cower. Surely we would take a little time and persue some of the proven NFL guys if Mora didn't work out right? I mean, RIGHT!? Nope the only other guy who got an interview was Leslie Frazier. And the only reason that happened was because the NFL has rules demanding that you interview atleast one black dude.
So even though Cower and Gruden were still available, we decided to over pay for a college coach who was pleading for a way out of USC, even though he has been a shitty coach in the NFL already?! Good move guys.
I don't like this move. I'm not thrilled about the direction. Mora deserved another year or two. It wasn't his fault this team blew. Something just doesn't smell right here, and the whole thing makes me feel uncomfortbale.
Well, more so then the rash thats already taking over my ass.
Wait, Pete Carroll? WHY!?!
I haven't been telling tales of Awesomeness as of late simply because life has been crazy. Well that and I've haven't been awesome. And because I'm too self absorbed to share my issues with the world. Or do I share my ideas with the world because I'm self absorbed. Shit.
Never the less, I'm going to stop depriving you all of things I've had to say over the last month. So lets catch you up.
First, I finally became a real man and bought myself a car. It was an ordeal. I can't imagine buying a car being that difficult for everyone, because if it were people wouldn't buy cars. Car buying would be few and far in between. It was not an enjoyable activity for me. I'd compare it to a bad hangover.
When I got the car I felt awesome. Holy Crap! A great car for a (seemingly) low price. Seemingly because I had no idea what was going on. First night no buyers remorse. Second day, after I discussed the deal with the wise sages, I was informed that I got kinda fisted. Do you know whats it like to have a figurative fist up your ass? It's probably not as painful as physically putting a fist up your ass, but it's gotta be close. Then I almost lost a buddy over it. Definitely lost a few dollars. Not the wisest decision. But in the end, the result is the same...DADDY HAS A CAR!
Second was Christmas. Christmas is always a hectic time. Between work, fun stuff and family time, there is no time to sleep. Like at all. I got two families. Mom side, dads side. Christmas is split up into two days. Christmas Eve for mom, Christmas Day for dad. Only this year we added a little wrinkle to the madness....Girlfriends family. Yes, I had to find a way to fit three Christmas' into two days.
There is a happy ending to this story, everyone got to sample the holiday cheer I bring to the table. But by 10 pm Christmas day, after the Blazers had secured a victory over the Denver Nuggets (and a breath taking offensive performance from his Roy-ness) I was crashed out and asleep. Like coma victim sleep. I woke up for work seven hours later actually refreshed and ready to roll.
Actually, I wasn't totally refreshed. Awake yes. But that day I had a monster fuckin headache at work. Which brings us to number 3. The headache lead to me consuming more then the alloted amount of IBProfrin for the day. Estimation 3000 milagram (can't confirm that because I'm pretty sure I consumed it while I was half asleep. All we know is the next day I had chills, a wicked fever and a furious stomach).
So for about a week, my body didn't feel right. Minor fever here, bitchy headache there. Plus I noticed that my legs and been super itchy for a few days...and it was spreading... like to my ass. By New Years day, we had upgraded to headaches that could only be compared to all the worst parts of the Bible and I was throwing up delicious breakfast (no, not a hangover, I was designated driver. Actually, I have a great story to tell about THAT night but out of respect to some of the people involved...I think I'll let it slide).
For the next week and half my day consisted of this: wake up with a headache that made me want to rip out baby's throats. And by the end of the day I had 104 temperature. The Girlfriend would demand everynight that I go see the Doctor. I disagreed. I hate going to the doctors.
After over a week of that shit, I succumbed to The Girlfriends wishes and went and saw the Doctor. Not my normal doctor, but I saw a doctor. This doctor was a little off (I wanted to get in asap so I didn't get to see the same doctor from the 'Clean at Last' blog). It took me a while to notice the doctors possible craziness. In retrospect, I should've picked up instantly when I realized that she looked like a female version of Gary Bussy. For whatever reason my brain didn't attatch the 'could be crazy' tag to this doctor at that time.
So there I am, early in the morning. In comes Bussy. She asks probing questions, looks at my rash on my back and stomach. Pulls my pants down a little bit to examine it on my ass. A little alarming, because she could've just asked and I would've pulled them down. The little tug sent me straight in rape pervention mode.
After a piss test, chest x ray, and 7 viles of blood all Gary Bussy could tell me was that I did NOT have Bacterial Meningitis. Her explanation about how she came to this conclusion was a little troublesome. She joked, "I know you don't have Bacterial Meningitis because if you did, you'd be dead.HAHAHHAAHA" Awesome. Upon further review, she might've been crazier then Gary Bussy.
The Forth thing,which strangely was the biggest head scratcher of all my moments was finding out the Seahawks had fired Jim Mora after one season. Then turned aaround and hired Pete Caroll over the course of a three day span.
Lets review. Jan 8th, Jim Mora is told to look for a new job. Later that day it is reported early favorite is Pete Carroll (who IS NOT running from possible punishment from the NCAA for players from his Juggernaut title teams seemingly being paid to play college football. Don't even question his motives for getting back into the NFL). Pete initially responds saying he 'isn't very interested in the position'. Jan 9th, it's reported on ESPN that Pete and the Seahawks are "very close to a deal".
Confused yet?! Good, I'll keep going.
Jan 11th Seahawks and Carroll agree to a five year deal to bring his act back to the NFL (again, not running from NCAA and the spanking he was sure to recieve).
Couple things to bring up:
1. Pete already tried the NFL. He wasn't good. He got fired from the Jets after one year and 6-10. Then he un-successfully took over the Patriots(the season after they made the Superbowl under the Big Tuna) and within three seasons had them missing the playoffs and yes, got fired. His three seasons coaching in Foxboro, 27-21 (0-2 in the playoffs).
2. Was this the quickest negotiations ever?! This tells me a few things. One, Paul Allen really had a boner for the idea of Pete being available. Two, Pete Carroll must've really wanted back in the NFL (again, not because he didn't want to have his hands tied while recruiting. It was simply for love of the game and competition).
3. We tied our hands when hiring Mora, and not allowing us to persue Gruden, Shanahan, or Cower. Surely we would take a little time and persue some of the proven NFL guys if Mora didn't work out right? I mean, RIGHT!? Nope the only other guy who got an interview was Leslie Frazier. And the only reason that happened was because the NFL has rules demanding that you interview atleast one black dude.
So even though Cower and Gruden were still available, we decided to over pay for a college coach who was pleading for a way out of USC, even though he has been a shitty coach in the NFL already?! Good move guys.
I don't like this move. I'm not thrilled about the direction. Mora deserved another year or two. It wasn't his fault this team blew. Something just doesn't smell right here, and the whole thing makes me feel uncomfortbale.
Well, more so then the rash thats already taking over my ass.
Wait, Pete Carroll? WHY!?!
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