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January 31, 2006
A great way to wake up
For about the first time in maybe 8 years, I've started watching the Today Show in the morning. I don't watch it for very long - maybe 15 minutes - but those 15 minutes have me wondering what the hell is going on at Rockefeller Plaza.
It seems to me that the gang has finally gone off the deep end. Katie Couric and Matt Lauer are cracking inappropriate jokes, Willard Scott is ripping on the people celebrating their 100th birthday while hitting on Ann Curry, and Al Roker is Al Roker.
I have two theories about why this is: either they are all sick and tired of each other (which is possible, seeing as they've been together for almost 10 years), or I am catching the show at a later hour when their coffee has worn off and they are getting slap happy.
Has anyone else noticed this? The Today Show people seem markedly less serious, and I really must wonder if I am the only one who thinks so.
Posted by oz115 at 01:25 PM | Comments (0)
January 30, 2006
Sing it
The Super Bowl is slowly creeping up on us, and the NFL has finally announced one monumental piece of information: Aretha Franklin, Aaron Neville and a 150-person choir will sing the national anthem.
I think this will be good, and I agree that a famous national anthem singer is an appropriate thing for the Super Bowl, unlike, say, the strange tradition of God Bless America during the 7th inning stretch that has crept up during the World Series.
Now, I have no doubt Aretha and Co. will do the national anthem justice. I am, however, agitated by the thousands of national anthem singers who come in and try to add their own personal spice or twist on the national anthem. You know who I'm talking about - the people who try to make it jazzy, or throw in a bunch of extra syllables, or otherwise significantly alter it. It's stupid and annoying. Sing the damn thing. I'm not saying this because I think it's disrespectful, I happen to think that whatever variation somebody makes on the national anthem is going to suck. So can it, buster, and sing it the way it was supposed to be sung when they took the words to Francis Scott Key's poem and set it to the tune of a popular drinking song.
Posted by oz115 at 12:22 PM | Comments (2)
January 28, 2006
Worst parking ever
I came home last night and saw this Explorer parked across the street from my house. This is unequivocally the worst parking job I have ever seen. Look at this. He is like four feet off the curb. I can't tell if he tried to parallel park or tried to go in front first. Whatever he tried to do, this is an absolute disgrace. I think this may well be the worst parking job I have ever, ever seen.
Posted by oz115 at 02:01 PM | Comments (1)
Celebrity mania
In case you haven't heard, my girlfriend is in love with Steven Tyler. I'm okay with this. I know when I've been beat. The only possible thing I may have over Steven Tyler is that possibly I am taller than he is. I cannot verify this.
But, I've decided that if she is going to be allowed to have this unbridled adoration for a celebrity, I should get to, as well. The problem is, there just isn't anybody who is an equivalent in my estimation to Steven Tyler.
Oh, for sure, there are several celebrities I have, at times, been infatuated with.
Let's look at the candidates, shall we?
There's Dido:
Quite a looker, eh? And by all accounts a delightful person with a most amazing voice and a perfect and correct English accent. But she just doesn't make me all googly-eyed.
Or we have Natalie Imbruglia:
She is the only person, and I am ashamed to admit this, whose calendar I purchased. But she smokes and married some bad-ass rock dude, so I had to drop that dream.
On the other hand, there's Bridget Moynahan:
You know she's got range. She starred in Coyote Ugly AND a Ben Affleck movie. What more can you ask for? If I could get her attention, I know she could be mine. But oh! What's that? She dates the star quarterback? Like that one will last, that meathead...
There's always Sarah Chalke from Scrubs:
But she plays a character named Elliot, which makes me think of dudes. I can't have that.
So, what is a boy to do? Does anybody have any suggestions as to who my celebrity obsession should be? I feel like I am missing out here with this Steven Tyler business. And no, I can't pick Steven Tyler as my obsession, either. I don't want Christy to think I am copying her.
But then, since I am like a happy guy and all that, as you can see by my big honkin' smile here:
Maybe I should forget the celebrity gold diggin' and stick with the rootin'-tootin'est girl I know? After all, despite all those celebrity pictures floatin' around the internets, seems I spend most of my time looking at her picture. And that, I think, is a very good thing.
Posted by oz115 at 12:04 AM | Comments (4)
January 26, 2006
Woah!
Amazing. I've been called out by the Chicago Tribune, 3 and a half years ago!
Back in the day, I occasionally wrote a column for The DePaulia, the DePaul student newspaper. One of my columns was a sarcastic/humorous rant - who'd have thought THAT - about "Chicago Style," including unhealthy hot dogs, crazy politics, and doughy pizza. I never ever got feedback about the thing, but one day I noticed somebody had written a counter-response column saying Chicago style is great. Of course I haven't thought about it at all since I wrote that in October of 2002.
Now, here at law school I have access to Lexis Nexis, and one of its features is an archive of old Chicago Tribune stories. Being a curious sort, I wanted to see if my name was mentioned anywhere. And, don't you know, somebody at the Tribune saw my DePaulia column and saw fit to comment upon it!
From the Chicago Tribune, Oct. 28, 2002:
City life isn't for everyone
Hey, what's wrong with Chicago style?
Browsing through Web sites of this region's universities, we found an opinion piece on DePaul's online student news-paper decrying "Chicago style," as in Chicago-style hot dogs, pizza, politics, softball and driving.
"Only in Chicago do people play with a 16-inch softball," writes [me]. "This monstrosity does not look fun to catch. Since players don't wear gloves, they need to snare these things barehanded. I know more than a few people who have professed to cracking a finger trying to catch one of these balls.
"Living in Chicago provides all kinds of dangers. If you don't get into an accident on the way to the softball diamond, you stand a great chance of breaking your thumb with a softball. Then, afterwards, you can let your blood pressure skyrocket with a dog or pizza. On the way home, you have to hope the aldermen don't duke it out on your street."
In the end, Osgood says he'd rather stick to how things are done in his Ohio hometown.
Fair enough. Not everyone's cut out for life in the big city.
P.O.V.
Zing!
Posted by oz115 at 05:29 PM | Comments (3)
Fools!
I've had it up to here with Chipotle. My aversion to their burritos is well known, but this takes the cake. Now comes word that they had an IPO and their stock price DOUBLED. I know little about the machinations of the stock market, but I am willing to bet this has something to do with this ungodly fascination with Chipotle burritos.
My little brother, on the other hand, loves Chipotle. He goes there like multiple times a week. Apparently he takes the dog there and gets him little quesadillas. When I was at home visiting, we went up to Columbus to go to a hockey game, and of course there is a Chipotle next to the arena. I bluntly said I didn't want to go to Chipotle, but he insisted, so we went. And don't you know, there was a LINE out the door. For fucking Chipotle! How are all these people being fooled? Don't they know there are much better burritos to be had, for far less money? Ones that don't taste like ass?
My stance on burritos is simple. Actually, this applies to all ethnic food. I hope I do not offend anyone by what I say, but I only want Mexican food if it is made by people of Mexican heritage, and I only want Chinese food if it is made by people of Chinese heritage. You would not trust me to make a mean eggroll, and I'm not trusting some guy from Winnetka who needs beer money to make a burrito. Yes, it may be an interesting variation on a burrito, but it's not going to be done right.
Additionally, I don't want them made by some sort of automated, assembly line process. I want it hand-made, to my specifications. Yes, I know Chipotle makes the burrito as you watch, but they still do so with minimum choice on the ingredients. I pity the poor people whose only choice in Mexican is Taco Bell.
Speaking of which, there's a chain of Mexican restaurants located only in Buffalo called Mighty Taco. On one very strange night, I went drinking with two of my aunts and one of their friends. We ended up at Mighty Taco at 2 am. There is no stranger sight than a young guy like myself palling around with three 40 year old women. But, once again, their tacos were a poor substitute for actual, authentic Mexican food.
So, as a public service to you, here is my list of recommended Mexican restaurants that I feel comfortable patronizing:
Taqueria El Milagro (1434 W. Belmont)
Fiesta Mexicana (Chicago)
Fiesta Mexicana (Lancaster)
(Note that these two Fiesta Mexicana's are not related. It's just a popular name!)
Posted by oz115 at 12:51 PM | Comments (2)
January 25, 2006
To be in college again
I was sitting in one of my new favorite restaurants, The Pita Pit on Lincoln, reading about Contracts and having a grand old time. A college-looking kid ambled into the place, and told the manager his name and says he is supposed to be delivering sandwiches for them.
I couldn't tell if the manager knew he was supposed to be there, but he said there was already somebody out delivering right now, so he would wait to see what he wanted to do.
Then, this kid says something that made me long for the good old college undergraduate days: "Okay dude. I don't have anything to do. I'm gonna get a sandwich, then go home and play video games. If you need me, call me." Daaaaaamn! What a life! Here I am, slaving away at the Restatement and the Uniform Commercial Code, and this schmuck is off playing Mario Kart or someshit. Humpfh!
Posted by oz115 at 09:24 PM | Comments (3)
Expletive deleted
Over the past couple of years, I've developed quite an affinity for Johnny Cash. His particular brand of outlaw/drinkin/train/I miss someone songs always struck a chord with me.
And who can forget his raucous recording of Shel Silverstein's A Boy Named Sue? Every version I hear of this song goes through the whole thing, until it gets to the point where Sue's dad says, "and I'm the BEEEEEEEEP! who named you Sue." I always wondered what could Johnny have said that would earn such a long, drawn out beep?
I finally got my answer, and I was disappointed. I picked up At San Quentin CD a few days ago, and it boasted that it was live and completely uncensored, including A Boy Named Sue. I thought to myself, yes! I will finally get to hear what Johnny said. The song came near the end of the CD, and my anticipation reached new highs as he got to the offending verse.
Know what it is? "I'm the son of a bitch who named you Sue." Son of a bitch? That's it? I was completely underwhelmed. I mean, 1969 may have been a different time in America, but I had no idea that Son of a bitch would have earned such a definitive beeping. I thought it would be something better, like "I'm the motherfucker that named you Sue," or "the asshole" or "shithead" or something. But son of a bitch? Geez. I think now that I know what he actually said, I would've preferred to keep the beeped version, and let my imagination run wild.
Posted by oz115 at 02:04 PM | Comments (0)
Dunk this
Now I am steamed. Once or twice a week, I'll stop in at the Dunkin' Donuts around the corner from school for a hot chocolate. It keeps me going in the morning. A medium hot chocolate costs $1.71, and I dutifully keep the right amount of change in my pocket.
Yesterday I walked in and got my chocolate, and the lady intoned that it was now $1.97. I said, what gives? It's supposed to be $1.71! She mumbled something which I assumed was a change in the price.
Are you telling me that Dunkin' Donuts has to raise the price of its chocolate by 20 cents? Totally not cool! I have not visited any other Dunkin Donuts to see if the price change is in all stores, or simply the product of this particular franchisee attempting to squeeze an extra 20 cents out of a poor law student like myself. Dunkin' Donuts at 33 West Jackson? You're on my shitlist.
Posted by oz115 at 01:58 PM | Comments (2)
January 24, 2006
Time keeps draggin' on
I had a truly awful experience in class today. For some reason, I'm extremely tired today. I tried to take a nap after class, but I was unable to because somebody in the same room as me was crinkling a brown paper bag, which made sleep quite impossible.
Before that, I was in class. The class runs from 10 to 11:25, and I was struggling. It was one of those deals where I can't keep my eyes open, and my already illegible handwriting becomes nothing but a bunch of squiggly lines. I was not pleased.
So, what should happen? My professor gets wrapped up telling a story about a guy he defended for stealing a slipper from the hospital, and he ends up going about ten minutes past the time class is supposed to end. Let me tell you, there is no worse feeling than when you know it is time for class to end, and the professor is oblivious. All my classmates were folding up their computers and looking angry, but to no avail. Finally, after about twelve minutes, he looked at his watch and realized he had gone over. Freedom!
And really, all I wanted out of the deal was a nap!
Posted by oz115 at 12:43 PM | Comments (0)
January 23, 2006
The end of the world as we know it
And I don't feel fine. Why? Two words: Dick Jauron. The man who ran up a 35-46 record as the coach of the Chicago Bears is the new head coach of my beloved Buffalo Bills.
Now, this decision was made by Marv Levy, who is no dummy. Neither is Dick Jauron. The dude went to Yale, and according to the newspaper, he is usually the "smartest man in the room."
But why am I perplexed by this decision? It's probably because he had one winning year as coach of the Bears, and was terrible the other four years. There's the oft-repeated tale of Mr. John Shoop. I'm all for giving Jauron a second chance, and I hope they made the right decision, especially because every Bills fan I can think of thought recently canned Green Bay coach Mike Sherman was the far better choice. Of course, I'm no football person either, so I can't claim to have any special knowledge.
After about six years of Bills futility, I am sorely in need of a change. Dick Jauron, it's your turn to try and right the ship.
Posted by oz115 at 12:30 PM | Comments (1)
January 20, 2006
Genius, I tells ya
By way of Eric Zorn, I found this website. If you can't get rid of all that Spam, you may as well make fun of it. This one is my current favorite.
Does anyone have any idea why all spam has such poor grammar and spelling? My theory is that misspelling words helps to trick spam filters, because nobody could be that poor of a speller. Unless, perhaps, they are in the "Contitional Law Society."
Posted by oz115 at 10:46 AM | Comments (0)
January 19, 2006
Proud
I was in the student lounge here at school a little while ago, when I saw a sign for an upcoming event for the "Constition Law Society." I did a double take, because I could not possibly believe that somebody would post a sign that says "Constition" when it clearly meant "Constitutional." To say the least, I am flabbergasted.
There is no possible way they could have missed this error. "Constition" was written in about 80 point font, in big blue letters across the top of the banner. So, either the people who made the sign can't spell, or they simply did not care. Either way, that's totally unacceptable and, dare I say, unprofessional.
If I was in the Constitutional Law Society and saw this banner, I would probably rip the thing down. I don't think it's too much to ask that before making a sign like that for public consumption, that words like Constitutional be spelled correctly. It's only, like, the supreme law of the land and stuff.
And yes, I am aware of the irony that I probably misspell words on here all the time, but am not about to condemn myself. That's because I'm not representing an organization or using this as some sort of professional deal, so I can take a few more liberties than these folks.
Posted by oz115 at 09:59 AM | Comments (0)
21st century
Something has really bugged me for the past few months. It's NFL coaches. Why on Earth do the coaches wear such gigantic, ungainly headsets?
Companies now are making phones so thin they could probably fit in your wallet, yet NFL coaches are walking around with what are basically updated Shoe Phones.
I don't get it. Why do coaches need these things? Are they like the most reliable headset on the market? Or could it possibly be that the only way to get fifty Motorola logos on the product is by making it gigantic?
Posted by oz115 at 09:54 AM | Comments (1)
January 18, 2006
Seat's taken
I'm minding my own business at the JMLS library, waiting for the elevator. The library has a wacky setup. It's on the sixth through the eleventh floor or so, and there's a bank of elevators that go only in the library levels. I was standing on the tenth floor and I noticed that there were several more elevators than normally in the library, and one of my professors from last semester was standing by these.
I was starting off into space, as I normally do, when one of those elevators opened. I started to get on the elevator, when this professor blocked the door and said to me, "I'm sorry, I can't let you on here." My first reaction was, you must be joking. But this is not a joking professor. He struck me as an altogether stern person, though he did crack jokes on occasion. But I also am certain he had no idea I was in his class, because he never once acknowledged me before. So I let it go, and sheepishly walked away from the elevator.
The only thing I could think of was that this was some sort of special faculty elevator, with maybe some bitchin' express buttons that went all the way to the first floor. He could have maybe explained why I wasn't allowed ON the elevator though, I think. Now I just feel like an ass!
Posted by oz115 at 01:14 PM | Comments (3)
January 17, 2006
The white whale
I'm finally back in Chicago, and I could not have come at a greater time. You see, I arrived in the city the moment the Bears fell to the hated Carolina Panthers. My way home goes right by Soldier Field, and I was not about to sit in traffic jam filled with angry and ornery football fans. I decided I would go around it. After some tricky maneuvering, including an adventure that is the Dan Ryan Expressway,
I made it to home where none other than the lovely Christy was waiting for me. First, as a birthday/Christmas present, she completely rearranged my apartment, cleaned it and got me a nice, big-ass bed. It was an absolutely delightful surprise, and about the sweetest thing anyone had ever done. It almost looks like a home now!
After about an hour of hanging out, if you catch my drift, we decided to go off and get some dinner at the absolutely best pizza place on the planet, Pequod's. We hopped in a cab and had him drop us off on the street corner. We rounded the corner to where Pequod's is, and was greeted with a boarded up building and a note saying the place was closed for renovations, but to call for delivery.
I cursed. Every now and then I am cursed with trekking all the way out to a restaurant, only to find out it is closed that day, or worse, closed for good. (This most famously happened with the BD's Mongolian BBQ in Wrigleyville.) After weighing our options, we decided we would get the pie delivered to my house. There was an hour and a half wait, but we decided the pizza was worth it.
After fucking around for a good hour, we finally got home and our pizza soon arrived. That was when the deliverywoman told us how the Pequod's had caught on fire and was completely wrecked. I was stunned, because we thought it was simply closed for renovations, and the poor woman had driven all the way from Morton Grove to deliver us a pizza. I felt like a right bastard after that.
But let me tell you, Pequod's was well worth the wait. Its combination of cheesiness, doughyness and sumptious toppings is like no pizza I have ever had before. It is top notch. I had a leftover slice for lunch today, and it was as good as the day it came out of the oven.
If Pequod's had been gone for good, I think I would have pooed my pants. Thank God for the Morton Grove location and the intrepid deliverywoman!
Posted by oz115 at 01:06 PM | Comments (0)
January 13, 2006
And this is a good idea?
Everyone knows the iconic photograph of VJ Day where the sailor spontaneously grabs the nurse and plants a big wet one on her.
Now, somebody down in Florida has turned the thing into a sculpture. I, for one, am a little creeped out. It reminds me of the Marshmallow Man.
Posted by oz115 at 09:08 AM | Comments (1)
January 11, 2006
Don't bet on it
Know what I'm sick of? Mayors or governors making "friendly wagers" based on the outcome of sporting events. Why? They're lame. Da Mare has made a hobby of this, first with the White Sox in the MLB Playoffs and now with the Bears in the playoffs against the vexing Carolina Panthers.
Daley usually puts up hot dogs, cheesecake and other Chicago delicacies as his wager. In turn, the opposing mayor offers his city's finest selection of food. Or, consider the food-based but dumb wager agreed upon by Sen. Ted Kennedy and Sen. Kit Bond over the 2004 World Series. This has to stop.
If Mayors are going to make these things interesting, we need real bets. For example, if the Bears beat the Panthers, Charlotte Mayor Patrick McCrory has to jump into Lake Michigan during January. (Yes, Dan, I know I am stealing your idea but that's all I got.) However, if the Bears shall fall, Mayor Daley has to ride out the next Category I hurricane to roll through Carolina. Or, the loser has to walk around for a day wearing the other team's silly winter hat. [A tuque, if you will.]
In my estimation, the prospect of public humiliation is what bets are all about. If Mayor McCrory wants a hot dog from Chicago, he probably has a guy on staff whose job it is to take care of stuff like that. But nobody is going to bail him out of jumping into Lake Michigan.
What, dear readers, are your suggestions for bets that Mayor Daley and Mayor McCrory can make? Leave your ideas in the comment box!
Posted by oz115 at 07:16 PM | Comments (2)
Uhh
Talk about price gouging! These poor people are trying to flee a hurricane, and the limo company charges $3,700! Scumbags!
Illinoisan who fled in limo returns
By Jodi S. Cohen
Tribune higher education reporter
Published January 11, 2006
NEW ORLEANS -- Tulane University freshman Kyle Kogan, the New Trier High School graduate who escaped Hurricane Katrina by taking a well-publicized, $3,700 limo ride to Chicago, is coming back to Tulane this semester.
Kogan had been on Tulane's campus only seven hours when he fled north in the limo with his parents and another family after unsuccessfully trying to rent a car.
"Ever since after the storm, my mom said, `Where are you going to go now?'" he said. "I always said I was going back."
Kogan, who spent the fall quarter at DePaul University in Chicago, plans to move back into his Tulane dorm Thursday. Two months ago, he saw the hurricane's destruction for the first time when he drove to Tulane to pick up belongings left in his dorm room.
"It was disappointing, but not disappointing enough to push me in a different direction," he said. "I was still intent on going to Tulane.
"They have a pre-med program. And it's ridiculously fun. It's in New Orleans."
Posted by oz115 at 10:20 AM | Comments (2)
January 10, 2006
The end of an era
If there's something most every American can rhapsodize about, its his first car. My first ever car was a beige, 1991 Ford Explorer. In high school, I dubbed it "The Timobile," and it went by that moniker until I went off to college. For unknown reasons, it soon became known in Dayton circles as "The Shaggin' Wagon." I suppose this is because most every group of friends has to have a car called the Shaggin' Wagon. It was definitely not called that due to the amount of shagging that went on it, of which there was very, very, little.
The car was famous for its messiness and general state of disrepair, as well as its penchant for getting parking tickets. I once got four or five parking tickets within the space of a month, which caused UD Public Safety to put the boot on my car. When it was not getting booted, it was driving people around Dayton and getting me lots of ridicule due to its messiness. I drove the car all throughout college and eventually until I moved to Chicago, where it soon was superseded by my current car, Yoshi.
One time, some friends of mine were walking around the campus when they saw a car wildly back out of a parking space, accompanied by a loud bang. As they told me, they saw the guy driving away while they saw the Shaggin' Wagon staggering and shaking from the impact. Putting two and two together, they ran him down and got all his information. The fucker did about $200 in damage to the car. So, if I never said it before, thanks for nailing that guy.
I bring all this up because today the Shaggin' Wagon is headed for the great garage in the sky. It is a family tradition that when a car has outlived its usefulness, it gets donated to the Lancaster High School vocational program, where aspiring auto mechanics work on the car like mad scientists trying to give life to a cadaver. It's a tax write-off, but I am still sad. My memories are nothing but a tax write-off, you see. Today, the high school people are coming to take my car away, never to be seen again.
I had to clean it out, like I was embalming the car for its funeral. I found all sorts of odd memories, such as high school parking permits, very old CD's, and Wendy's receipts from 2001. Yes, like many things of my childhood, the Shaggin' Wagon will soon be but a distant memory. I'll miss you, old buddy. You did good.
Posted by oz115 at 01:40 PM | Comments (1)
Off to Cooperstown
As Pete pointed out, I neglected to name Bruce Sutter on my Baseball Hall of Fame ballot. Well, ol' Bruce got elected to the Hall, and that was it.
My nominations, Goose Gossage, Andre Dawson, Bert Blyleven, Lee Smith and Jack Morris did not make the cut, though Goose and The Hawk came close, with more than 60% of votes. I think Dawson will make it some day. Strangely, 4 people voted for Hal Morris.
Posted by oz115 at 01:27 PM | Comments (0)
January 09, 2006
Best blonde joke ever
My lovely and beautiful girlfriend is a blonde, and I love her to death, but this self-styled best blonde joke ever is too good not to pass on. Christy, I'm sorry. Please forgive me.
Posted by oz115 at 09:16 PM | Comments (0)
Nuts and bolts, nuts and bolts, we got screwed
So today I got robbed. I'm sure in a few years it'll be an amusing tale, unlike the last time I got robbed. I go off to work out at the nice Bally's in Columbus, and when I come back to my locker I discover that all the cash has been taken from my wallet, and my PANTS are missing. So, somebody managed to jimmy my cool purple lock, and then in addition to taking my cash - and only my cash - he took my pants. What kind of sick fuck am I dealing with?
There was all sorts of valuable stuff in the locker: my watch, my cell phone, my keys which could be used to steal my car, and the cool history book I was reading for like the fourth time because I think it is awesome. (Okay, I guess that's not really that valuable.)
But no, my watch was still there, my keys were still there. My jacket was still there. But my pants? Nowhere to be found. The guy didn't even take my credit cards, my gift cards, or my social security card. I canceled the cards as a precaution, anyway.
Who steals pants? Why on earth would he even want my pants? I don't get it. It's not like I'm a celebrity whose personal artifacts are going to get sold on eBay or something. Unless, and this is a really slight possibility, the thief is a time traveler from the future who, knowing of my fame, wanted the pants for some futuristic museum of the 21st century. Or, perhaps, the pants figured in some future event which had a profound effect on history, and the traveler sought to alter his history (but our future) by taking my pants away from me. If this is the case, expect me to die before finishing this blog item, because the time traveler will kill me to prevent exposing his diabolical secret.
Now, there is the slight possibility that I hallucinated wearing pants to the gym, and that all the money fell out of my wallet somewhere else, but this is not likely. What are the odds that the money, and only the money, would fall out?
Ah well. It was only $60 or so, so I guess I can survive. And I'm about to press save, and there is no time traveler here to rub me out. I'll take what I can get at this point...
Posted by oz115 at 08:52 PM | Comments (0)
Karma
Let this be a lesson to you:
A mouse got its revenge against a homeowner who tried to dispose of it in a pile of burning leaves. The blazing creature ran back to the man's house and set it on fire.
Luciano Mares, 81, of Fort Sumner said he caught the mouse inside his house and wanted to get rid of it.
"I had some leaves burning outside, so I threw it in the fire, and the mouse was on fire and ran back at the house," Mares said from a motel room Saturday.
Village Fire Chief Juan Chavez said the burning mouse ran to just beneath a window, and the flames spread up from there and throughout the house.
No was hurt inside, but the home and everything in it was destroyed.
Unseasonably dry and windy conditions have charred more than 53,000 acres and destroyed 10 homes in southeastern New Mexico in recent weeks.
"I've seen numerous house fires," village Fire Department Capt. Jim Lyssy said, "but nothing as unique as this one."
Posted by oz115 at 09:24 AM | Comments (0)
January 08, 2006
Cooperstown time
Not that it matters, but here is who I would put in the Baseball Hall of Fame, if I was allowed to vote on such things:
Bert Blyleven
Andre Dawson
Goose Gossage
Jack Morris
Lee Smith
And, as a sentimental favorite, I'd have to cast a vote for the great Hal Morris.
Posted by oz115 at 11:35 PM | Comments (3)
January 07, 2006
I'm a handful
I've come to the realization that growing up, I was a pain in the ass. I probably am still a pain in the ass. Here's how much of a bastard I was.
Getting up in time for anything was a big problem for me. I could have something to do at 1 in the afternoon, and I would still find a way to sleep so much that I was late.
Clearly, I used to be late alot for school. I had to get picked up by the school bus at the end of the driveway, and unless I was there right when the bus rolled by at about 45 mph, I was hitchhiking to school. I was never monstrously late, but I'd be late by four or five minutes.
Eventually my tardies piled up, until one day I got a DETENTION for being tardy. I never got detentions for anything. The only time I ever got in trouble was the time I threw a snowball in the fourth grade. I got two timeouts for that, which were like detentions but instead of being after school for an hour you had to skip recess. Another time, my friend Barry White pulled the fire alarm when I was standing next to him, and *I* got in trouble along with him. I was pissed, mainly because I was standing there, and I didn't know he was actually going to do it. I don't believe I got punished for that.
But back to the story. I got a detention for being tardy. At my junior high school, detention consisted of sitting in a room with the shades pulled down for 45 minutes. Apparently, to the veterans of detention, it was "nap time." There was a guy at school whose sole job was discipline, and he ran the detention. Every day, after school, he would sit in that dark room and stare at the wall. He did not allow anyone to read, or to talk, or to write. All you did was sit. It was incredibly boring. I wish I had a cool story like that's where I met my future wife, but no. I served my detention, and left. And that was it.
Being late and all, my mom decided the solution to my problem was to make me go to sleep earlier. I used to stay up late and read into the wee hours - like, you know, 11 pm. One day I was reading off on my merry way when the lights in my room suddenly went out. I looked around in the dark for awhile, but to no avail. The next day mom told me she had the electrician come and wire my room so that the power would go out every night at 10:30. But a few nights later I found that she had bought some sort of timer that all my stuff was hooked into, and I unhooked it, taunted my mom, and kept on reading.
I also kept on being late. The next time I got a detention for being late was in high school. Being a Catholic high school, they thrive on two things: bingo money and indentured servitude. So, instead of sitting in a darkened room, they put us to work picking up litter outstide the school during detention. Much like Andy Dufresne in Shawshank Redemption, it felt good to work outside instead of sit in a cell. But, unlike Andy Dufresne, nobody threatened to push me off a roof and I did not get a bucket of cold beer for my detention mates.
Now, the only thing that managed to get me to school on time was a girl. Oh, you know, it's embarassing and stuff but I had it bad for a girl named Jessica my senior year of high school, and we had class first period together. I'd notice that she was always there before school started, so I had it in my mind that I would show up early too, sit out there, work my magic, and she would then make out with me in the hallway. As you might have guessed, it did not work.
But if there's one thing I'm not, it's a quitter, and I showed up every day about a half hour before school started. I didn't have any more detentions, but I didn't have any dates, either. Lucky for me now, I can have as many dates as I want with the girl of my dreams. And I'm even usually on time for them! I guess it was a good tradeoff, don't you think?
Posted by oz115 at 08:39 PM | Comments (1)
January 05, 2006
Bearin' some palls
So, my great uncle passed away a few days ago. He looked like a fascinating fellow, but he is a person I have never, ever met in my entire life.
At the wake tonight, I was asked if I would like to be a pall bearer. This is not the kind of thing a person turns down, so I said yes. I honestly don't know how to react to this sort of thing. I mean, I don't even know him. I'd heard his name mentioned, but that's it.
On the other hand, I know why they asked me: on that side of the family, there just aren't any other guys who can carry a casket. It makes me scared to die without an extended family, because I don't want to be carried off to my final resting place by a guy I've never met. It's not that he was lonely or without a family, they just all happen to be older or women.
I guess, when I shuffle off this mortal coil, I hope I've positively affected enough people that a gaggle of people will show up to my funeral. And, if I do, I croak early enough that all those people will still be alive to bid me farewell.
Posted by oz115 at 10:46 PM | Comments (1)
Shuffle off
Today I am off on a most unexpected trip to the great Queen City, Buffalo. My poor mom's uncle died, so we're off to attend his wake/funeral. I can't say I've ever met the guy called Brownie, but I'm being nice and going along anyway. I'll be back on Saturday, so I hope you can survive without my delightful missives until then.
Posted by oz115 at 09:11 AM | Comments (0)
January 04, 2006
Old school
The Bills are set to become one geriatric football team if this latest news comes to pass:
Former Buffalo Bills coach Marv Levy, 77, will return to the team to oversee the football operation, and president and general manager Tom Donahoe will be fired Wednesday, ESPN's Chris Mortensen reports.
On Tuesday, team owner Ralph Wilson held a postseason meeting with coach Mike Mularkey, whose status remains uncertain.
Frustrated by the Bills' 5-11 finish and failure to reach the playoffs for the sixth straight season, Wilson promised to make changes to his management structure, but only after he met with his coach. The meeting took place at Wilson's office in Detroit.
Wilson, age 87, informed Mularkey that he would take a more active role in the organization, including evaluating assistant coaches and personnel, Mortensen reported.
As a Bills fan, this can only be good news. Marv Levy is a personal hero of mine, so I am probably not the most neutral person to ask about this. However, Levy always had a certain dignity about him, and you always believed he had things under control. The Bills certainly need somebody like that around. Maybe this second time around he can finally get us that Super Bowl title.
Posted by oz115 at 09:59 AM | Comments (1)
January 03, 2006
Ask me about my mustache
A few of my friends had the zany idea of making December "Fun With Facial Hair Month." I joined in the party a little late, but I went the last three weeks of December without touching a razor blade. The result was the hideous 'stache you see in the picture above, with the lovely Christy undoubtedly being cheesed off about something in front of me.
Now, I don't know how many of you, my dear readers, have ever donned a mustache. I do know this: it is not for me. I feel like a major asshole walking around town with this thing, and I am planning to shave it off post haste. In fact, as soon as I am done with you clowns, that is probably what I will do.
The reason I am wearing a Detroit Tigers hat and a tropical shirt is that this New Year's, we had an 80's theme party. Click here to see whom I was was attempting to emulate. I think I am a dead ringer.
Now, like I said, I do not think I know if I look good in a mustache. My dad had a mustache all throughout the 70's. It did not help him. His future father-in-law called him Meathead after a certain TV character, and I am certain the mustache once led to undercover Cheektowaga Police Officers mistaking him for a cat burglar, chasing him and nearly shooting him dead. So you see, the mustache in my family has some strange history.
However, Christy and I did agree on one thing: it is awesome to say "my mustache." Try it! My mustache keeps my lips warm. Are you looking at my mustache? Is there food stuck in my mustache? The possibilities are endless! We also thought it would be a hilarious t-shirt that says "Ask me about my mustache."
All I can really say is, if I were to ever grow another mustache, it'd be because I wanted to become a Civil War reenactor, or for comic effect.
Posted by oz115 at 06:40 PM | Comments (1)