Status Update

Yo YO YO. 

Ok so I've been a real slacker again. Work has been bitch slapping me to no end. I promise I have a few un finished things, that will get thrown up there as soon as their done. It'll hit you like a storm, or not at all...depending on how many readers I actually have.

But they're coming. Just not this weekend. I'm going to go fishing and drinking with the boys. But when I'm back I'll finish those previously mentioned and probably have a few new stories to tell you.

All hail weekends of drunkenness and testosterone.

Who Wants 18 Virgins?

The muslim  religion says if you are a good little muslim you get 18 virgins in Heaven.

I say who wants virigns? Wouldn't you rather have 18 girls who have had sex with like one other dude? That sounds like a better plan to me then dealing with the emotions and blood.

You also don't want them to be packing a huge body counts. Because then you have to worry about them comparing you to High School boyfriends, college flings, the Altanta Falcons and that dude that dated her and her best friend at the same time and neither of them figured it out for a while.

But if you rock a girl that only has like one dude...then you don't have anything to worry about. Well unless that one guy is a French Yoga instructor named Jean Luc, then you're screwed. Because then you're risking the only reason that the girl is only available because she got too sexed out and needed to find a guy that she could conversation with. Because she only speaks very little French, so their relationship is only bang bang bang. And damnit, she's tired of that. Poor girl isn't a shallow human.  And who wants a girl that is burnt out on banging?!?!

Also, can you even imagine the horror of having 18 girls head over heals in love with you? Lets face it, girls are already an emotional lot. Now add the fact that they are recently relieved of the shackles of virginity. AND REMEMBER YOU'RE DEALING WITH 18 OF THEM! 

Who wants that stress? Not me. Plus the promise of Heaven is good enough for me. Eternal life and a perfect body? As opposed to eternity getting tortured? Uh, where do I sign up. Thats a no brainer. Heaven sounds like, well, heaven. 18 Virgins would just be taking away from the fun. Like a fat dude blocking your sun while you're trying to tan. Which is never good. 

Thank you for listening.

Beer Goggles Phenomenon

I drank my face off last night, and I'm hurting right now. 

The old Jim Brewer joke held true last night. The one where he describes his stomach as a party with a bouncer.  Youtube it if i you haven't heard it before, cuz I'm sure as shit not going to repeat it. Nothing bombs more then someone trying to recite a joke they thought was funny. It's never as funny as you thought it was, and then it's a real awkward moment. 

But my night started with beer and finished with Tequila. Shiiiiiit. We all know where I'm at right now. I'm cage fighting a sever headache.

I came to stunning conclusion last night. Actually, more of a re-remembering (hahahaha Roger Clemens is so dumb). Because this actually wasn't NEW information. But when you're drinking, and drinking in excess, certain realities become altered.

Arguably, the most apparent is with girls. It's crazy. Throughout the night of self destruction, a girl really does get better looking. You could meet some chick, at beer one, who has no chance with you. But as each beer goes down, or you start moving to shots or what not, I don't know if you just become less aware, or if you just stop caring, but the looks become less apparent. 

Beer Goggles are real people. For good or bad, those things are real, and ugly chicks have good stories to tell at work the next day because of them.

Does that mean beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Or is beauty at the bottom of a Budwiser? You be the judge.

Through my experiments and during my research (ie. many drunken evenings) I have found that all it really takes is on trait on the girl to make her attractive during a drunken evening. You find that one thing that they have that is awesome, and get fixated on that. Honestly, the most common trigger to this reaction is big tits (which would explain how you can wake up with a fat chick).  To prove this point I remember one night, way back in the day meeting a girl. Now, I don't remember what she looked like, hell I can't even tell you what her name was. All I remember from this interaction was finding out she was a baseball fan, and being overtaken with desire. We were making out right in front of the whole party only moments after I met her. Thats all it takes sometimes.

One thing and you stop worrying about the fact that they could be a creature from the black lagoon or whatever. I mean come on, she has monstrous tits ( or in my case, she liked baseball)! 

I don't know. Maybe it's not as interesting a phenomenon that I'm pointing it out to be. Maybe I'm just making an aunt out of a mole hill. Who really knows. I know I find it interesting. And since this is MY blog, I can write about what I want. In fact, I think this subject is so interesting that I'm going to go do some more research tonight.

Ramblings: July Edition

Welcome to July ladies and gentlemen. Lots of stuff has happened the last couple weeks. Tons of good topics for me to ridicule and rip in vulgar fashion have just landed in my lap. It's been a writers utopia. 

Unfortunately for all, I've been balls deep on Tiger Woods 2010 to worry about stupid writing.

Yes, I missed covering the end of NBA finals, some key celebrity deaths and now Forth of July (which is probably my top drinking day of the year) because I've been so wrapped up in making my character good. You would think I'm a virgin.

So lets just briefly cover the things I missed...

• I was actually ok with the Lake Show winning the title. A summer of talking heads rotating between Brett Favre and Kobe can't win stories would make me blow up. Or make me sacrafice my shoe through my new tv. Which ever came first.
• Do you think the boys that Michael Jackson allegedly molested were sad when he died? After all, it is said that you never stop loving your first.
• While we are on the subject, kinda crazy that the best thing the King of Pop did for his career in over twenty years was die. Before two weeks ago, MJ was a boy touching freak who used to be black and once upon a time wrote billie jean. Post two weeks ago, HE IS THE KING OF FUCKING POP AND THE MAN WROTE BILLIE JEAN.
• Saw the UFC 100 this weekend. Good times. One major note George St. Pierre is either over compensating with a massive cup, or the man has an absolute rope for a dick. His cup looks like it might've been Patrick Roy's goalie mask once upon a time.
• Brock Lesner is married to Sable. 14 years ago this would've been awesome.
• One last thing, Bisping...how does Hendo's ass taste???

Is KP above the law?

Over the last two years, philosophers have been trying to answer the question, " If Kevin Pritchard chopped up two hookers in the center of a packed Rose Garden, then took his pants down a dropped a duece on a poster of the pope...would he get in any trouble?"

Lets see if we can't find the answer.

KP  could bring in an autistic amputee to play the 3 spot and I wouldn't doubt him. He could come out and say that he is giving Sue Bird a 6 year max deal because he feels teaming her up with Roy would be a good idea, and I wouldn't even raise an eye brow.

Why we haven't sent him to North Korea to "pritch-slap" Kim Jong Il is beyond me. I bet he could barter Mr. Il to stop being a bitch  and get a discount on korean hookers for three years without even rolling up his sleeves.

Thats why when news hit that we were going after a slow, 30 year old small forward (Hedo) and I didn't really get it, I refused to say anything negative about it. Sure we have three small forwards already, and another who is capable of playing that position. And sure our problems were at the point guard position...but if KP feels like Hedo would've helped then Hedo would've been right.

Think about it, he is the man that ultimately turned Seabstan Telfair into Brandon Roy. Even on video games thats robbery (legend has it is he was the only one during the Nash and Patterson era that wanted to draft Chris Paul over Martell Webster. Shit).

 

So the next time you see KP sweaty, smeared with blood, eyes blood shot and smelling like the last wishes of hookers, and you want to know if the Blazers Gm is going to have some legal issues a head...the answer is no. He won't.

Keven Pritchard is above the law. Next question.

Proof God Exists

I woke up Sunday morning, to my brothers asking me if I want to go to church. Now, I had gone out for a night on the town the night before and common logic would say that I still had another hour of sleep in me. 

Not this time. I was fairly alert so I got up showered off stale awesomness and prepared for a steady dose of the G-O-D.

We went to Living Hope Church, which is this little hip set up over near my parents house in the BG. I gotta say, not your typical church. You get in there, and you aren't instead of typical church folk in their sundays best, you're greeted by dudes in flippy floppys. My kind of people.

Then the service, as usual seemed to be tailored for me personally. It was like as soon as John (the pastor of the church) started doing his thing, that everyone vanished and he was just talking right at me and my brother. Not preaching at us, like damning us to hell or anything, but having a frank conversation about our relationship with God and our struggles.

I'm not joking. It was incredible. Everything that had been bothering me over the last month or so, was explicitly addressed during the sermon. It was like God himself wrote it and told John to hammer it home. 

After the service I just sat there for a moment letting it sink in. I haven't been to church consistantly in a few years. I go randomly, when life allows me to(which is a rough translation to 'when I feel up to it') And in that moment of realization, I found a huge chunk of what I've been missing in my life. I need God.

You want proof there is a God? I mean more proof in the abundance that is already out there in your every day life. Just got to church. Randomly, one time. Go with that friend of yours thats been inviting you every so often. We all have one of those friends. 

Or go By yourself. Just go. One time. Listen to the service. It will speak to you. You will be able to relate to it. It'll be a testimonial, the sermon, or just someone you meet there. It will peak your interest. And that my friends, is God working in that mysterious way we hear about so often. 

As I was sitting there on Sunday listening to John talk, I could feel my anxieties over my day to day stresses slip away. Every point, every sentence relaxed me more and more. I was shown that it was ridiculous and premature to have gotten worked up like I did. It was incredible.

Not to get too in depth on what the sermon was about, because that would make this entry HUGE, but it was about the hardships of the times and all the parties it effects. Now I know in this economy that there are many people who are facing the situation that my brother and I have been facing lately, and so there are many people who could've related to that sermon.  But it felt like we had a big spot light directed right on us. I just kinda lowered my head and smiled. I mean for that to be the topic the day I decide to go back to church, and to try a new church... well thats not just incredible, to me thats proof. 

Well played God. Well Played.

Quick Thoughts

I was watching the Mariners game today and got a few things to talk about here real quick. First things first, todays win gave us a sweep of the Arizona Diamondbacks. Take that you desert dwelling schmucks.

With this big win, we have moved to 2.5 games out of the division lead with a home series against San Diego starting Tuesday. Not what you would call a daunting task. Especially with no Peavy. So I'm pretty excited for the next couple of weeks. Who knows, maybe we could be hearing about the American League West Division leading Seattle Mariners heading into the All-Star break (yes I'm half mast after writing that sentence).

Felix pitched good today. With the exception of that slider that Reynolds took out, I'd actually say he pitched his ass off. At the time, I was really up set with mr. Reynolds, but he later made it up to me.

Obviously, now I'm talking about the game winning error where he came charging a Franklikn Gutierrez grounder, tossed it over to the ancient Tony Clark, who promptly let the ball bounce in and out of his glove allowing for the game winning run to cross the plate. HAPPY FREAKING FATHERS DAY!

A glimpse of something super cool. It was like seeing Bruce Willis drink a smoothie. Arizona Diamondbacks reliever Clay Zavada has the greatest mustach since Adam Morrision. It curls up like a tribute to the Gods. He looks like the Red Baron. It would make Heraldo Rivera jealous.

Seriously, it looks like baseball is just his other job. His real one is reimagining scenes from famous pornos in the 1970's. I bet he has a 7 inch bush.

I defy you to not google Clay's pictures and smile.

Belvin out.