What is with people and telling me where Craig Counsell is from?
Seriously. What is with that? Any time someone finds out he's my favorite player the conversation goes something like this.
Me- blah blah blah Craig Counsell is my favorite.
Person-Counsell eh? He's a good guy.
Me-Yeah.
Person-You know he's from Wisconsin?
Me-(internal sigh) Yeah.
Person-Whitefish Bay!
Me-Uh huh.
And this is how I'd prefer the conversation to go.
Me- blah blah blah Craig Counsell is my favorite.
Person-Counsell eh? He's a good guy. (apparently I talk to a lot of Canadians)
Me-Yeah.
Person-You know he's from Wisconsin?
Me-YES!
Person-Whitefish Bay.
Me- I FREAKING KNOW HE'S FROM MOTHER F-ING WHITE-FRIGGIN-FISH BAY! I'm no casual fan! My favorite player is Craig Counsell moron! He doesn't exactly top the list of favorite players! I know my shit!
Su-heriously! What is with that?
Brett Favre! You know he's from Mississippi right?
I pity the fool who next says that to me. I might lash out irrationally, Neil. (what movie?!)
See this whole thing came about today at work when I was looking at my pocket Brewer schedule (So I have one...or two. Don't you judge!) And made a comment about how I get a free magnet schedule on Opening Day. This sparked a convo with a coworker that lead to me saying that I'm going to have to break down and buy that Craig Counsell jersey this year finally. (those bitches are expeeeeeeeensive!) Anyway. Besides the whole you know he's from Whitefish Bay thing I learned that I might have to prove to said coworker that I know my stuff. I don't watch the game cause I like it when they bend over to field a grounder. That's just an added bonus.
Oh and btw. While he might be considered a native son of Wisconsin, the dude was born in Indiana. Look in the media guide or even the active roster on the web site, suckers.
.....I feel creepy now....
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
BURN!
I officially hate Shamrocks.
I hate them.
HATE THEM.
I hate everything about them (except shamrock shakes!). They are driving me to drink. Seriously. They are. I drank Guinness because it only seemed fitting.
Why do I hate them? Two words: Water Tower. Another three: 30 minute bitchfest. Another four: At eleven at night.
Ugh. Here's what I think of shamrocks now:
They are the devil. Plan and shittin' simple.
Eirinn go freaking brach!
I hate them.
HATE THEM.
I hate everything about them (except shamrock shakes!). They are driving me to drink. Seriously. They are. I drank Guinness because it only seemed fitting.
Why do I hate them? Two words: Water Tower. Another three: 30 minute bitchfest. Another four: At eleven at night.
Ugh. Here's what I think of shamrocks now:
They are the devil. Plan and shittin' simple.
Eirinn go freaking brach!
Friday, March 19, 2010
Baby Games
Look! Manny Parra (far right) likes to lead some of the pitchers in playing So Big!
How big is Manny? Soooooo big! Aw, what a big boy he's becoming!
Oh and speak of babies/toddlers. Today at the store there was this little boy, probably around three years old, and he was having a hissy fit. Good. God. It was so bad that everyone on the front end was looking around and doing those "oh I pitty that mother" looks. You know the ones. I told one of the managers after they left that was enough to make someone not want kids. Yikes. The lady didn't even try to shut him up. Though out in the parking lot she was singing to him which appeared to be working.
Right.
How big is Manny?
Soooooo Big!
How big is Manny? Soooooo big! Aw, what a big boy he's becoming!
Oh and speak of babies/toddlers. Today at the store there was this little boy, probably around three years old, and he was having a hissy fit. Good. God. It was so bad that everyone on the front end was looking around and doing those "oh I pitty that mother" looks. You know the ones. I told one of the managers after they left that was enough to make someone not want kids. Yikes. The lady didn't even try to shut him up. Though out in the parking lot she was singing to him which appeared to be working.
Right.
How big is Manny?
Soooooo Big!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
What in the....
Did Corey Hart tattoo the back of his hand?!
Who does that?! I've seen little ones on the hands but a huge thing like that? That's just tacky.
Who does that?! I've seen little ones on the hands but a huge thing like that? That's just tacky.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Great News!
Great news! Another dream shattered! My bubble? Busted!
Ah yes. Hello reality. You cruel bitch.
On a totally separate note, shamrock shakes? Just as amazing as I remembered! Slightly bummed I'm currently not hunched over in agonizing pain because of it. But upon further reflection, no. I'm not really that bummed. And I think I need another.
Yeah. I do. Oh and I need some Guinness. Drat. I should have bought some while in town...
By the way, Brewer season starts in less then a month. Holla! And you better believe I'm there for Opening Day!
Excuse me. It's time to go burn somethings.
Ah yes. Hello reality. You cruel bitch.
On a totally separate note, shamrock shakes? Just as amazing as I remembered! Slightly bummed I'm currently not hunched over in agonizing pain because of it. But upon further reflection, no. I'm not really that bummed. And I think I need another.
Yeah. I do. Oh and I need some Guinness. Drat. I should have bought some while in town...
By the way, Brewer season starts in less then a month. Holla! And you better believe I'm there for Opening Day!
Excuse me. It's time to go burn somethings.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
I'm not cut out for this...
I've come to terms with myself. I am not cut out to be a city reporter.
Why? Well thank you for asking! I've broke it down to 50 percent of it is being shy and my irrational distaste for the telephone. I hate calling people! Hate it! I don't like calling my grandparents for god sakes why would I want to call the public works department? The other is a mixture of a quasi cynical/pessimistic/whatever outlook. Some of this stuff I have to cover makes me stop and say "what in the frak attack is with this?" Seriously? Do I seriously need to write 500 words on what's to be painted on a tower? Do I need give the public in depth information on the snow plow the city isn't buying? My attitude on the last one is they're going to bitch a whole lot more then they might be now over fuel economy and emissions if it snows 20 inches and they can't get out of their house cause the city is down a plow. I just struggle with being impartial I guess. I assume way to much which might make an ass out of you and me but oh well. I've never wanted to be a city reporter. Not now at least. I could see it in a few years when I actually have some stakes in the game. Right now I don't pay any property taxes let alone for the city I'm covering so I don't give two shakes of a lambs tail (does that work here) about their budget. I guess I do in some regards but overall, nope.
I settled on sports because 1) it isn't hard hitting stuff. Sure it is to some people and it's one of the most read sections of the paper but in reality it's sports! 2) it is more fun. 3) It's sports!
But in all honesty I've always wanted to be a journalist who would write these long, beautiful somewhat snarky, somewhat thought provoking articles peppered with humor and sentiment about something I did. Sort of like editorial and opinion writing, sort of not. I want to write first person pieces. Not restaurant reviews or anything like that. Be a bit of a Mike Rowe ya know? Do something and then tell a story about it. But I don't want to spend my days around poo.
It would be like taking this blog to the next level. I'd get to keep my same writing style but I'd class it up some obviously. I've always wanted my own page. You know how in magazines people get their own pages. Rick Reilly had the last page of Sports Illustrated. When we got the subscription I might not have read anything from the whole issue but I always turned to the last page and read his articles. That's what I've wanted to do. And I don't know how to. I don't know where you go for that chance. I couldn't do it at the school paper cause to write in the opinion section you had to have a year of service to the paper and shit. I couldn't stand doing the crap I had to do to stick around a year. Sports was alright but there was about 14 of us so I rarely got any assignments.
I don't know. I really don't. I know what I don't want and I know what I want but I don't know how to do it. And that scares me.
Ok time for some Psych!
Why? Well thank you for asking! I've broke it down to 50 percent of it is being shy and my irrational distaste for the telephone. I hate calling people! Hate it! I don't like calling my grandparents for god sakes why would I want to call the public works department? The other is a mixture of a quasi cynical/pessimistic/whatever outlook. Some of this stuff I have to cover makes me stop and say "what in the frak attack is with this?" Seriously? Do I seriously need to write 500 words on what's to be painted on a tower? Do I need give the public in depth information on the snow plow the city isn't buying? My attitude on the last one is they're going to bitch a whole lot more then they might be now over fuel economy and emissions if it snows 20 inches and they can't get out of their house cause the city is down a plow. I just struggle with being impartial I guess. I assume way to much which might make an ass out of you and me but oh well. I've never wanted to be a city reporter. Not now at least. I could see it in a few years when I actually have some stakes in the game. Right now I don't pay any property taxes let alone for the city I'm covering so I don't give two shakes of a lambs tail (does that work here) about their budget. I guess I do in some regards but overall, nope.
I settled on sports because 1) it isn't hard hitting stuff. Sure it is to some people and it's one of the most read sections of the paper but in reality it's sports! 2) it is more fun. 3) It's sports!
But in all honesty I've always wanted to be a journalist who would write these long, beautiful somewhat snarky, somewhat thought provoking articles peppered with humor and sentiment about something I did. Sort of like editorial and opinion writing, sort of not. I want to write first person pieces. Not restaurant reviews or anything like that. Be a bit of a Mike Rowe ya know? Do something and then tell a story about it. But I don't want to spend my days around poo.
It would be like taking this blog to the next level. I'd get to keep my same writing style but I'd class it up some obviously. I've always wanted my own page. You know how in magazines people get their own pages. Rick Reilly had the last page of Sports Illustrated. When we got the subscription I might not have read anything from the whole issue but I always turned to the last page and read his articles. That's what I've wanted to do. And I don't know how to. I don't know where you go for that chance. I couldn't do it at the school paper cause to write in the opinion section you had to have a year of service to the paper and shit. I couldn't stand doing the crap I had to do to stick around a year. Sports was alright but there was about 14 of us so I rarely got any assignments.
I don't know. I really don't. I know what I don't want and I know what I want but I don't know how to do it. And that scares me.
Ok time for some Psych!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Captain's Log
After night after night after night of having dreams about the grocery store I've decided to start of log of what they are about and how often I have them.
No, no. I'm not going to write them all down here. That would be quite extensive, a little boring and quite frankly sad on my part. But after about a week of having dreams about that place every night I decide I should chronicle it.
The highlight of the past week was having to chase a man down for stealing tuna and a Coke. So I was outside chasing him and then all the sudden I was tubing behind a car. Then we lost the guy so we stopped by a parked police car and asked the officer if he would get Mac Taylor from CSI:NY to help us find him.
Yeah. It's not that exciting. And unfortunately these type of dreams fill my head almost every night.
Woohoo for a weekend in the middle of the week! Two days off in a row without having to request it off. Say whaaaaat! Only I still have to work tonight. Boo. This strawberry slushie is easing the pain of that. Just a little bit. Ok not really but it is freaking delicious! Yummy!
Yeah alllllright. That's all I've got. So yeah....
No, no. I'm not going to write them all down here. That would be quite extensive, a little boring and quite frankly sad on my part. But after about a week of having dreams about that place every night I decide I should chronicle it.
The highlight of the past week was having to chase a man down for stealing tuna and a Coke. So I was outside chasing him and then all the sudden I was tubing behind a car. Then we lost the guy so we stopped by a parked police car and asked the officer if he would get Mac Taylor from CSI:NY to help us find him.
Yeah. It's not that exciting. And unfortunately these type of dreams fill my head almost every night.
Woohoo for a weekend in the middle of the week! Two days off in a row without having to request it off. Say whaaaaat! Only I still have to work tonight. Boo. This strawberry slushie is easing the pain of that. Just a little bit. Ok not really but it is freaking delicious! Yummy!
Yeah alllllright. That's all I've got. So yeah....
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