I rose yesterday at 5:30 in the AM (as opposed to my usual 6:30) and began my outrageously invigorating professional work day. I arrived at work and immediately was assigned a classroom and was allowed a precious few minutes of silence before people arrived. Over that period of time I encountered the following thought processes:
-Tom Menino now has the record. 20 years. I was not particularly interested in this mayoral race. Everyone knew Flaherty lacked sufficient funds and popularity, or maybe because Menino does not do a particularly bad job (Albeit not an an outlandishly good one either). The most hilarious thing about Tom Menino is his gigantic half dollar sized cuff links he wears from time to time. I reminise to a time in which I didn't give a fuck about the social pressures of having jobs or making your own way, a time when I played Babe Ruth baseball and it seemed like you and all your friends were going to the Major Leagues. I attended a end of the season banquet in the North End. Big Tommy showed up (probably for the outrageously sized portions of food) and gave a speech. I didn't hear one word. I didn't get wrapped up in his jumbled accent or waste time trying to figure out a point. I was blinded by the light.
Holy testicle sized cuff links, Batman!
He probably copped them at Marshall's for twenty bucks. I swear, it made Bob Kraft's usual monsters look like little buttons. I was thirteen and all of a sudden wanted to be the mayor. If you could have told me then: that in 2009 he would still be the mayor and I would be substitute teaching a dance and drama class in Dorchester? Um, well, if I got beyond telling you to go fuck yourself? I probably would have done steroids in college, failed regardless at making a run for the Pro's and subsequently been thirty to forty pounds heavier as a result of the water weight (As for Dance and Drama, I'm not sure).
A girl I used to see back in 2007 recently got married. I guess it's an amusing story because the last time I saw her was on her couch. She and I were...well we were hanging out on her couch when I received a phonecall from my friend Packie. He stressed to me that it was a time of great need, a time when fifteen to twenty morons were assembled on Savin Hill Avenue ready to re-enact the opening scene in Gladiator. I was in Cambridge and I'm not sure why I felt my presence would be effective, but I left anyways. She was on the couch, totally dumbfounded (and topless for that matter) while I was setting the record for a one way trip from Cambridge to Dorchester. I showed up and everything died down of course (This had nothing to do with the four squad cars that showed, it was of course my intimidating figure) and then we all went out and got food. I don't really know why I'm so narcissistic with such matters, but I always wondered how that situation impacted her life? I mean people adapt, but if a chick left me on the couch high and dry to go fight with her friends I'd probably just give up. No that's bullshit. I'd probably just get drunk and forget about the whole thing.
-Drake has managed to land a song with pretty much every big name in rap and he's only been on the mainstream scene for around a year. I listened to his most recent verse in the DJ Khaled "Fed Up" track. There is something redeeming about singing along to curse filled verses seconds before children enter the room.
- I think I heard them say Rondo got 55 million this morning on the radio, but I could not remember if that was a dream or not.
- You are twenty-four years old. You still haven't seen the new Boondock Saints movie even though there is no way it can be good and yet you still yearn. You blame the trouble you had sleeping last night on "Paranormal Activity" which you saw on Sunday night with your roommate. You still have a crucifix dangling from your bedroom doorknob and you tell everyone it was for your Boondock Saint's costume (which it was) and that it is only there because your too lazy or you forgot about it (which is not true) and has nothing to do with the fact that the movie actually freaked you out (also not true). PS. Maybe you are Skitzo and that is one of the voices inside your head writing for you in the 3rd person?
-Tony Romo is a good QB. I find it funny people hate him so much when other QB's are killing dogs, raping women and turning up dead at the hands of 20 year old girlfriends. This guy is tossing 300 yards a game, dumping girls as hot as Jessica Simpson and making stupid amounts of money. He's cool in my book.
The day rolls on and eventually it turns to darkness. It happens earlier now, another wonderful reminder of the time change! Darkness falls, I catch up on all my Dexter and Californication on demand and before you know it, Darkness REALLY falls, and the Yankees win the World Series! I wake up at a normal time today, and in all my morning motivation and energy I do my best Derek Jeter "we just won the World Series!" leap.
YES! TODAY RULES! WOOO! LET'S START IT! Cough, ok, cue the depressive symptoms and mixed state of mind. I arrive at work and before undertaking certain daily responsibilities I check facebook for some amusing status updates, relationship endings, beginnings and who I wanna poke next.
Listen, I hate the Yankees as much as the next guy, but stop it with the "Oh they bought another pennant!" comments. We're no longer the Boston Red Sox of the last century. We buy just like everyone else (I kinda hate it but at the same time you have to adapt...and ever since our big contacts we've faired quite well, ahem Manny, ahem Pedro). Without those guys mixed together with our recently amazing farm system there is no 2004 or 2007. The same goes for the Yankees. Now don't get me wrong, these guys throw money around like Pac-Man except they don't care about picking it back up--but Jeter, Posada, Rivera and Pettite all came up the same year.
The blueprint has always been there, build up young then fill in with what you can. The Red Sox threw 100 million at Dice-K just to speak with him. Please, for the sake of non-contradiction, stop with the money argument. We are both big market and are hated around the league. Adjust and get real. You don't have to like them, but do it for honest reasons and don't make excuses because the Red Sox (or more appropriately Mr. Papelbon) blew it this post-season. Things to remember? Despite their 27th, we have the second most World Series titles of all time AND if there was a team you'd rather have the Yankees win against than the Phillies?
...Let me know, but goodluck finding a more annoying fanbase in the league.
On to the next one. I am still laughing to myself over Californication the other night. "To our beautiful family, our black president and my magnificent dong". Hank Moody is easily the most ridiculous character on television. Members of both sexes could hate the show and all it has to offer, however, no one can deny the utter greatness of Duchovony's mastery. Watching Hank Moody run through drugs, self-serving episodes, booze, women, women, more women all the while trying to balance out Karen and his daughter is near perfection. No show has had more fun in the fields of sleaze and over the top craziness than "Californication". Do yourself a favor and rent, illegally download or buy the first season. Especially if you like boozing, good acting and hot women (anyone ever notice how most of the guys on the show are purposely kept extremely unattractive and shitty just to further Glorify Hank's legend?). He is worth checking out and is the most absurd and engaging character on television.
The days get shorter just means the nights get longer. I'm a big bitch and will be over my disturbed "sleep" cycle in no time. November brings a whole host of unwanted issues into one's life (Christmas Music is tops for me), but I'm supposed to be hypomanic! The constant flow of ideas and amazing creativity continues to flow...um...I swear...I, I eh, just want to save some the perfection for next time? Uh, yeah. Right. Maybe I should have paid more attention to the delusional disorder instead.
No comments:
Post a Comment