Thursday, December 22, 2005

My mama's talkin' to me, try to tell me how to live
But I don't listen to her 'cause my head is like a sieve

I was talking to my friend, Demi, and she was discussing her recent trip to Stockton, California, located in California's central San Joaquin valley. She was so poetic in her description that I felt compelled to post it...

She described it as, "The land of ass and fog."


I also had a nice talk today with True North, my old compatriot at the bank. He hooked me up with a board position at the bank that was a fantastic learning experience. It was nice to catch up with him, although I am always a bit taken aback when real life and this blog collide... when True North answered the phone, he said, "Is this The Dude himself?"


I am in a mild panic. A major warm front came through today, and temperatures were close to 50. That is No Good. No Good At All. Especially considering that it will rain tomorrow WHEN IT SHOULD BE SNOWING.

Doesn't the goddamned weather understand that I have plans for a powder day Saturday and Monday?!

Who's in charge here, anyway?

I can only hope it stays cold enough up at Big Sky to make that rain into snow.

Editor's note: Mother Nature listened. The temp is dropping and the forecast is for snow.

Two of my college roommates, Harm and Twink, got together in Boston for a "Just Like Old Times" weekend. They drank too much, had a good time, went to a Celtics game and a Patriots game.

Apparently, some things never change...

This is verbatim from Harm's email:

So under the “some things never change” category, and the reason for this email, is the story of Twink at the Celtics game that night:

To set the stage it is important to understand that Twink is still a fanatic Celts fan and as passionate about them as anyone that I know, even in Boston. Twink also HATES Paul Pierce for all very justifiable reasons (lazy, doesn’t play D, always has a scowl on his face, has never been able to get the Celts to become winners, etc….). Also to set the stage is the fact that Twink and I had been drinking since about 2:00pm that day.

Anyways the Celtics were playing like shit, getting beat by Milwaukee (yes that is right Joe, your Bucks spanking the Celts in Boston) and Twink and I were getting more and more irate (and drunk), especially at Pierce as he stood around with his hands on his hips waiting for the ball and not playing any defense.

So with about 2 minutes left in the game the Celtics called a timeout (they were down by 10 at the time) and Twink had had it with Pierce. Now at this point in the game there is basically no crowd noise in the place…my point is that it was very, very quiet in the Garden, you know that subdued quiet at a sporting event when everyone realizes that their team has lost. So we walk down right behind the Celtics bench, about 10 feet from all the players, and Twink screams out “HEY PIERCE, PULL YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS!!!”

This was a classic drunken Twink temper moment. Everyone around us was mortified. Mark Blount’s head spun around out of the huddle and just stared, little children cried, and several security officers immediately engaged. Everyone was preparing for the Indiana/Detroit bottle throwing incident part two. The best part of it was that when security came to usher him out he just very calmly said, “Sorry, I will leave, but that felt so good to scream that at him, I am fine now, it was very cathartic”.

That, my friends, is the funniest damn story I have heard in a long, long time...