tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-244802822024-03-23T14:03:59.222-04:00Phollower<center>Passive-agressive and you can't stop me, although I'd pretend to let you.</center>Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.comBlogger219125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-5591428958888630992010-12-26T22:02:00.002-05:002010-12-26T22:02:55.624-05:00Anybody Still There?I haven't been here in years. So, anyone still get email alerts when I post something?Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-59062006343502276092008-09-29T15:35:00.003-04:002008-09-29T15:40:09.727-04:00Nom de PronI needed a recipe today for some tuna steaks I wanted to put on the grill and I happened to have a hunk of ginger root leftover from a recipe I made a couple days ago. So I went to Google and typed in ginger tuna. It struck me as being an awesome porn name. <br /><br />The Wettest Wet Nurse- Starring: Hugh Jemember and Ginger Tuna<br /><br />I'd watch that. For about 45 seconds. Then I'd nap.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-67229901122645329712008-08-14T14:25:00.003-04:002008-08-14T14:35:58.330-04:00SweetcornThe title is one word because that's how it's said here in the Midwest.<br /><br />There's a ton of little stands in Indiana that sell locally grown corn during the summer. That would be sweetcorn to you folks from around here since maybe there's some other kind of corn that you might get it confused with when buying it on the street corner. But there's one that's my favorite. I've never bought corn there but that doesn't stop me from having a preference. Before today, the reason it was my favorite is because there are these 2 really cute girls who work at the stand most days when I drive by. Reason enough, right? But today as I passed they were throwing an ear of corn across the parking lot where their golden retriever would run over, pick it up in his mouth, and come bounding back to do it again. He looked and ran and acted just like our golden, Sam. <br /><br />I swear, if seeing the joy in the eyes of a golden retriever who's in the middle of fetching something doesn't put a smile on your face, your heart is fucking broken.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-3346714018926536202008-08-02T13:32:00.002-04:002008-08-02T14:23:24.879-04:00And You Thought I Was Scarce Before?OK, tomorrow is officially going to be the biggest day since, well, since congress changed the official length of the world day from 22 to 24 hours. I can't remember what year that was.<br /><br />The curious reader may ask, "Why Phollower?"<br /><br />The bi-curious reader may have different questions entirely. Like, "Why not, Phollower? You know you want to."<br /><br />I'm hear to address the curious reader. The bi-curious reader should've gotten to me 11 years ago before I got married.<br /><br />There are 5 events occurring or possibly occurring tomorrow. In no particular order:<br /><br /><b>1.</b> My new <a href="http://www.us.playstation.com/ps3/about">Playstation 3</a> is scheduled to arrive. I don't think I need to go into much more detail about the awesomeness of that. It's technically my X-Mas present but, you know.<br /><br /><b>2.</b> My preordered copy of <a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/boardgame/31260">Agricola</a> (complete with the "preorder exclusive" <a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/image/326298">Animeeples</a> is supposed to get delivered. I ordered the English printing back in December when it was announced and I was really excited to get it. Then it took a few months longer than the original ETA and I got a bit frustrated but now that it's set to arrive I'm totally psyched again.<br /><br /><b>3.</b> The copy of <a href="http://www.easports.com/nhl08/">NHL '08</a> that I got off eBay (at a bit of a steal, I might add) may be in the mail. NHL '09 is coming out soon but I really want to be able to play hockey with my brother in law who lives in Buffalo. He has '08, it was about $40 cheaper than '09, end of story.<br /><br /><b>4.</b> Our new copy of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Advanced_Dungeons_&_Dragons#Dungeons_.26_Dragons_4th_edition">Dungeons and Dragons 4th Edition Player's Handbook</a> should get here. That means <a href="http://puckuandurskates.blogspot.com/">Sylvia</a> and I won't have to share one anymore and we'll be able to make notes and put in page tabs and be as geeky as we want to be with our own copies. <br /><br /><b>5.</b> Our co-ed softball tournament starts Monday night. After 11 grueling regular season games where sweat was actually worked up on occasion we've come to what we toil for so hard all year. OK, fine. Every team makes the playoffs and we'll probably be gone by the end of the 2nd week of games (since everybody makes it that far) but I still like to kid myself into thinking we'll get the big trophy this year.<br /><br />So that's my Monday. Go ahead, tell me that day ain't huge. I dare ya.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-47289229851622957902008-07-28T11:56:00.002-04:002008-07-28T12:01:51.731-04:00Just Passing ByAll right. I make no guarantees I'll be here on a regular basis but I wanted to share this:<br /><br />Start with a cage containing five monkeys. Inside the cage, hang a banana on a string and place a set of stairs under it. Before long, a monkey will go to the stairs and start to climb towards the banana. As soon as he touches the stairs, spray all of the other monkeys with cold water. After a while, another monkey makes an attempt with the same result - all the other monkeys are sprayed with cold water. Pretty soon, when another monkey tries to climb the stairs, the other monkeys will try to prevent it.<br /><br />Now, put away the cold water. Remove one monkey from the cage and replace it with a new one. The new monkey sees the banana and wants to climb the stairs. To his surprise and horror, all of the other monkeys attack him. After another attempt and attack, he knows that if he tries to climb the stairs, he will be assaulted.<br /><br />Next, remove another of the original five monkeys and replace it with a new one. The newcomer goes to the stairs and is attacked. The previous newcomer takes part in the punishment with enthusiasm! Likewise, replace a third original monkey with a new one, then a fourth, then the fifth.<br /><br />Every time the newest monkey takes to the stairs, he is attacked. Most of the monkeys that are beating him have no idea why they were not permitted to climb the stairs or why they are participating in the beating of the newest monkey.<br /><br />After replacing all the original monkeys, none of the remaining monkeys have ever been sprayed with cold water. Nevertheless, no monkey ever again approaches the stairs to try for the banana.<br /><br />Why not?<br /><br />Because as far as they know that's the way it's always been done around here.<br /><br />That's good stuff right there.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-54462591995065557322008-06-18T14:00:00.002-04:002008-06-18T14:10:27.500-04:00Name ChangeAlright, I'm fully aware I've been ignoring not just my blog but blogs everywhere lately. See I got <a href="http://www.epiphone.com/default.asp?ProductID=45&CollectionID=6">this new guitar</a> and I've pretty much been playing it during all my free moments. If you click on the "review" button you'll see the color I got too. It rocks. Not in my hands it doesn't (yet) but the guitar itself is really awesome.<br /><br />As far as the title of this post is concerned, there's been a change made to the name of <a href="https://www.dunkindonuts.com/">a popular donut and coffee establishment</a> in order to better represent its true nature. From this day forward it shall be referred to as <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=badunkadunk">BadunkaDunk</a>in Donuts.<br /><br />I'll be back sometime.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-40483874809197114662008-05-14T23:34:00.004-04:002008-05-15T00:07:23.942-04:00If Everyone Else Jumped Off A Cliff...Well, since <a href="http://tysgirl.wordpress.com/">tysgirl</a> and <a href="http://ihaveabombshelterandyoucantuseit.blogspot.com/">limpy</a> went on vacation I thought I would too. <a href="http://puckuandurskates.blogspot.com/">Sylvia </a>and I are heading to Colorado with her dad, his wife, and Sylvia's brother. It'll be a week filled with hiking (Great Sand Dunes NM, Sangre de Cristo Mountains, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado State Forest State Park (yes, that's really what it's called)) whitewater rafting class IV and V rapids, camping in a <a href="http://www.neversummernordic.com/Grasscreek.htm">yurt</a>, and generally goofing off.<br /><br />On a completely unrelated note, The Spousal Unit just asked me why the winner of the Indianapolis 500 drinks milk. Turns out Louis Meyer, who won the race in 1936, drank buttermilk after the race because it was his favorite. The Milk Foundation decided that was too good of a promotional thing to pass up and has made sure the winner has a bottle of milk ever since. Fine, it's a dumb tradition. Whatever. I mention this not because of it's riveting trivia value but because (according to the one online source I happened to see it at) PETA is hoping to stop the tradition. The organization is looking to end the drinking of the milk, claiming it to be a "beverage born out of cruelty to baby calves" and a "racist drink."<br /><br />Ohhh Kaaay. I'm with you on preventing animal cruelty but, christ, it's fucking <i>milk</i>. And it's racist? Should it be alternated with chocolate milk?<br /><br />Back to the regularly scheduled banality you've come to expect.<br /><br />I'll be gone from Saturday til the following Saturday and, unlike other bloggers who set up posts to come up on scheduled days during their absence, I'm just not going to think about you at all. It's not that I don't care, it's just that I <i>really</i> don't care.<br /><br />Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go kick a calf in the nuts, just so he knows what cruelty is really like.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-44318706042037399692008-05-13T09:56:00.002-04:002008-05-13T10:24:47.569-04:00Put Me In CoachTomorrow starts our annual excursion into the great world of competitive sports known as co-ed recreational softball. The team <a href="http://puckuandurskates.blogspot.com/">Sylvia</a> and I play on consists mostly of people over 35 (some substantially more over 35 than others...) whose primary activity for the year is getting thrown out on their way to first a couple dozen times a summer. Fortunately that describes most of the teams we play against as well. Suffice it to say you're not going to be catching any of our highlights on SportsCenter Thursday morning. In fact catching is something that will rarely occur during our games at all. Thank god for the mercy rule.<br /><br />For the second (or third?) year in a row I've been tapped to be one of the coaches. I couldn't make it to the team meeting where that was decided thereby ensuring my position as coach since anyone who was there voted against themselves. I was informed there was a fair bit of "Phollower doesn't have a job anymore. He's not doing anything."<br /><br />So it goes. <br /><br />Being a coach for adult rec softball really doesn't involve too much besides setting the line-up every week. But that's the pain in the ass that everyone else tries to avoid. See, there are almost always more players than there are positions so some people will only play a half game. As coach I have to decide who those people are. Which, of course, often leaves those people pissed at me even though I do my best to have everyone play the same number of half games throughout the course of the season. I try to maintain the attitude of "If you don't fucking like it, you be coach next year" but I still stress over it every game.<br /><br />I usually play shortstop for our team (clearly showing where we stand as far as player quality goes) and, even though I know it's god-damn-coed-rec-league softball, I still get as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs before every game. But that's just how I roll. I love playing but am always terrified that I'll be the one that fucks up. Making it more likely that I'll be the one that fucks up. If you don't fucking like it, you be the shortstop next year.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-2300979427478538452008-05-07T14:41:00.002-04:002008-05-07T14:53:19.735-04:00For I'M About to RockPerhaps some of you remember a while ago when I <a href="http://phollower.blogspot.com/2007/04/yeah-i-rocked.html">mentioned that I used to be in a band</a>. No? Well, you probably aren't missing much. I wrote (almost) all the songs for the group but only sang, played a little harmonica and shook a tambourine.<br /><br />I sound kinda gay.<br /><br />I played guitar well enough to hammer out a chord progression and teach it to the people who actually knew how to use their instruments and then I pretty much got the hell out of the way and let them figure out the details. Well all that's about to change. Albeit very slowly. I start guitar lessons today. I'm hoping to learn to do more than just play the 10 or so chords that I know already. My teacher better be patient. I know enough to have formed a million bad habits but not enough to actually be easy to teach things correctly. I can't read music, I don't know the names of the chords that I can play; shit, I don't even know the names of all the strings now that I think about it. Hopefully the instructor has some good advice and I can learn to solo and stuff. <br /><br />It would also be nice if Eric is a hot chick. I'll keep you posted.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-76432317270085132022008-04-30T12:16:00.003-04:002008-04-30T12:25:15.568-04:00It Just Rolls Off the TongueWe drive down to hockey in Indianapolis with our friend Lucy, who happens to be from France. Lucy is one of my favorite people. She's really fun. Since Sylvia and I are kind and compassionate friends of Lucy's we pick on her accent and the fact that she's a foreigner in general almost constantly. One of our favorite devices is to take something in english and bastardize it so it sounds french-ish. The latest one is our favorite and we've been using it a lot, even when Lucy isn't around.<br /><br />Ready?<br /><br />When you would (and normally I wouldn't at all but I mean when someone who is the type of person who would would) say, "Oh SNAP!" try the frenglish "Snappez-Vous!"<br /><br />It just has a nice ring to it. It'll probably catch on like wildfire and we'll be famous and I'll be able to retire.<br /><br />Shut up.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-41078448922996789652008-04-27T12:27:00.002-04:002008-04-27T12:47:59.148-04:00The Day the Earth MovedI was just recently given permission to blog about this so I apologize for it being a little less current than most of my cutting edge posts.<br /><br />About a week and a half ago there was an <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/04/18/illinois.earthquake/">earthquake in Illinois</a> which was felt by quite a few people here in Indiana. It happened at like 5:20am so yours truly slept through the whole thing. <a href="http://puckuandurskates.blogspot.com/">Sylvia</a> however was woken up by the shaking of our bed. It wasn't until later that day while she was at work that she learned of the earthquake though. How, you may ask, does a woman get woken up at the crack of dawn by the rumbling of her bed and not know an earthquake occurred? Let me enlighten you, dear reader(s): <br /><br /><b>Co-Worker</b>: Did you feel the earthquake this morning?<br /><br /><b>Sylvia</b>: Ummm, no. What time did it happen?<br /><br /><b>Co-Worker</b>: 5:20 in the morning.<br /><br /><b>Sylvia</b> <i>: (to herself) </i>I guess Phollower <u>wasn't</u> masturbating.<br /><br />When she confessed this to me she said that up until then she just figured if I had needed her to be involved I'd have woken her up, so she rolled over and went back to sleep.<br /><br />I've been trying to take it as a compliment that the movement of tectonic plates could be confused with me spanking the monkey but I'm certain the earthquake lasted a lot longer than I do. And at my age there aren't any aftershocks, if you know what I'm saying.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-8430745977434366292008-04-24T14:46:00.002-04:002008-04-24T14:50:49.078-04:00GardeningI was out with the dogs today and noticed the flowers in our flower beds are all blooming like mad in the nice weather we've been having. Reminded me of a joke:<br /><br />Q: What's better than roses on a piano?<br /><br />A: Tulips on an organ.<br /><br />That's all I got. I'm going out for my annual golf outing today though so there's a good chance I'll have an embarrassing story about that. And when I say "golf outing" I mean I'm going golfing. I don't reveal that I'm gay on the 12th tee or anything. Although...Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-70857506764958867912008-04-21T09:08:00.002-04:002008-04-21T09:33:26.403-04:00Goliath's RevengeThe other morning I woke up (which is how I like to start my day), fed the cats, cleaned the litter boxes, then opened the back door to go out with the dogs for a bit. I have a pair of dirty old shoes that I leave on the back porch for trips outside with the dogs which means my first step onto the back porch is done in just socks. On my feet, I mean. I usually wear the traditional loincloth as well. Anyway, as I took the aforementioned stocking footed step I felt a sharp pain in my right foot. What I initially thought might be a big-ass sliver turned out to be a big-ass wasp. And not a White Anglo-Saxon Protestant. I mean the bee kind of wasp. And, despite overwhelming odds against him, an individual wasp will still try to take down a 210 pound sleepy white guy. And much like the proverbial David, Mr. Wasp struck a crippling blow to the mighty behemoth. Unlike the proverbial Goliath, I got up, grabbed a paper towel, and squashed the little bastard. If only they had paper towels back then the whole Israelite/Philistine thing may have gone down much differently. Alas, the quicker-picker-upper was not to be invented for many centuries so you know how that turned out.<br /><br />The wasp on the other hand was mashed flat.<br /><br />But holy crap did that hurt. I believe my exact words were, "Owww! Mother fucker! Holy fucking shit that hurts! God fucking damn it! Jesus fucking Christ!" That's where the whole paper towel thing came in. It wasn't a good start to the day for either of us. Probably worse for him though. Either way I have a sneaking suspicion this little parable isn't going to be amended into the bible. Partially due to my taking of the lord's name in vain and partially due to the fact that "Don't sting the dude that outweighs you by 209.999995 pounds" isn't a lesson you really should need to learn.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-2219091675306558412008-04-17T12:21:00.002-04:002008-04-17T12:35:06.683-04:00Mmmmm... Satan?OK, so I haven't felt like blogging, or doing that much with the computer in general lately, so I haven't posted in a long time. Sue me. That's a figure of speech Limpy. Besides, it probably wouldn't be worth the drive to Indiana to get my stuff. We could drink though. I haven't kept up with anyone else's blog either so don't feel like I've been just ignoring you. I'm an equal opportunity shunner.<br /><br />What got me to post something? A little conversation I overheard at the <a href="http://www.factorycard.com/index.jsp.vr?cvid=1004&sub=FC1&gclid=CP6Bx6bB4pICFQL1PAodxHYOfg">Factory Card and Party Outlet</a> yesterday. I'm standing at the ginormous card rack looking for some decent (or indecent) birthday cards and there's this lady (mid 40's?) and her two kids (about 10 years old or so) looking next to me. Every once in a while one of the kids will pull a card off the display and say, "How about this one Mom?" During one such episode this happens:<br /><br /><b>Kid</b>: <i>showing his mother a card with a lady looking into a crystal ball on the front.</i> How about this one mom?<br /><br /><b>Mom</b>: No way am I buying a card with a fortune teller on it.<br /><br /><b>Kid</b>: What's a fortune teller mom?<br /><br /><b>Mom</b>: Something of the devil.<br /><br />End of conversation.<br /><br />How can you just leave me and your kid hanging like that? And after all the time I spent talking to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miss_Cleo">Miss Cleo</a>. She never once mentioned her affiliation with Satan. Go figure.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-86691004367230493602008-03-21T19:02:00.002-04:002008-03-21T19:11:50.195-04:00Wishful ThinkingThe other night <a href="http://puckuandurskates.blogspot.com/">The Spousal Unit</a> and I were watching the <a href="http://sabres.nhl.com/">Sabres</a> play the Tampa Bay Lightning and the following was heard:<br /><br /><b>Rick Jeanneret</b> (The Sabres amazing play by play man): While the Lightning are still mathematically in the playoff hunt they're not realistically in the picture, but they'll be happy to play the role of spoiler in tonight's game.<br /><br /><b>Sylvia</b>: How come nobody's ever happy to play the role of patsy?<br /><br />That woman can really crack me up sometimes.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-51752196460216178242008-03-16T22:43:00.003-04:002008-03-16T22:58:48.552-04:00That Cool Refreshing DrinkA guy Sylvia and I graduated from high school with (yes, we went to high school together but were definitely NOT high school sweethearts) is putting together a list of contact info for the 130 or so people from our graduating class in an attempt to arrange a *gasp* 20th reunion sort of thing. He set up a meeting time and place for anyone who was interested in getting together to brainstorm some ideas about the reunion itself, how to reach more people, and that sort of thing. Sylvia and I live about 9 hours from where we grew up so we pretty much sent him our contact info and left it at that. But the day after the "meeting" he sent an e-mail to everyone on his list so far that basically said, "I showed up, waited around for a while, realized no one else was coming, and left." He then went on to say, "But on my way home I saw the most beautiful sunset over the Niagara River and realized that had I been a minute earlier or later it wouldn't have been as wonderful. So thank you all for making that happen."<br /><br />Now that's pretty much the epitome of the old saying, "When life hands you a bunch of lemons, make lemonade."<br /><br />Me? I'd have taken the lemons, cut them up, used them to chase a bunch of tequila shots, and said "Fuck the whole thing."<br /><br />But that's just me.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-81893763853950458462008-03-13T15:05:00.002-04:002008-03-13T15:11:59.047-04:00We Can't Be Everything To EveryoneI picked Sylvia up at the airport on Monday evening after her trip to Monterey. I don't remember exactly how it happened but while we were waiting for her bags to show up I did something which caused her to say, <br /><br />"My book is a lot more romantic than you are."<br /><br />I wanted to tell her,<br /><br />"Yeah? Well the chicks in the movies I watch while you're gone do a lot of shit you won't do too but I don't hold it against you."<br /><br />But I didn't say it because that would've been pretty rude. I have the tact to wait until I get home and can post it on the internet instead.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-38693491468722798022008-03-06T20:22:00.002-05:002008-03-06T20:36:37.794-05:00This God Damn Fucking Piece Of Shit Old HouseHi everyone! Phollower Vila here with today's lesson in home maintenance and repair:<br /><br />Painting a room is a great and relatively inexpensive way to liven up an area and give it a new look and feel. But when contemplating painting your textured ceiling it's important to know beforehand that the texturing will crumble and fall off. A lot. It will also turn your expensive 3/4" nap rollers into worthless, paint covered pieces of shit. This will happen after about 8 strokes which is enough to make the little bit of painting you accomplished stick out like a sore thumb but nowhere near enough to make you think that you might actually be able to do the job without either buying $150 worth of rollers or spending 3 months washing and drying them every few strokes.<br /><br />So what do you do about this? Well, this is why I said it's important to have this information <i>beforehand</i>. That way you can tell your wife, husband, partner, parent, landlord or whoever suggested such a stupid thing that they can go fuck themselves. This may result in an argument with the aforementioned suggester but trust me, the marriage, living arrangement, lease, or whatever is just not worth the hassle. If <i>you</i> happen to be the idiot who came up with the idea in the first place (as is the case for Phollower) then you can cut out the middle man and skip directly to fucking yourself.<br /><br />This has been another helpful household tip from Phollower Vila. We'll see you again next time on This God Damn Fucking Piece Of Shit Old House.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-21867986567371310672008-03-05T22:07:00.004-05:002008-03-06T09:39:10.034-05:00It's My Pie, KittyYesterday The Spousal Unit left for Monterey, CA for a conference, not to return until next Monday. So I'm a bachelor for 5 days. Doing bachelor type things like... ummm... crap. What did I used to do? Why can't I remember? Wait, I'm sensing a connection. What was I talking about. God, I'm thirsty. <br /><br />Cotton.<br /><br />Back to the story: I dropped her and 2 of her students off at the airport at 10:15am and since I (not so) coincidentally had my hockey equipment with me I decided to join in on a game of pick-up hockey that was scheduled at the rink in Indy. I had never played with the group but had heard that the level of play is pretty high.<br /><br />You can say that again.<br /><br />A few of the guys had played semi-pro hockey. A few more had at least played in college or in juniors. About half of them were in their late teens or early 20's. Me? I started when I was 30 and am now 37. I also generally play only once a week. It was humbling to say the least. But it was excellent. And I'm rather proud to say that, while it was humbling, it wasn't humiliating. I think I did pretty well for a guy in his late 30's who's played a lot less hockey than any of them. And I don't think I was the worst guy there. But I could be biased.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-27627882282122122242008-03-03T13:22:00.002-05:002008-03-03T13:34:55.370-05:00How Lame Are We?There are 5 of us in our town who play hockey in Indianapolis, which is about an hour away. Our friend Wienercats is one of the ones who shares a ride to and from our Sunday night hockey sessions since she plays on our team. Yesterday she was one of the people who drove and I happened to be riding in her car on the way home. We got to talking about cooking and about recipe magazines. She mentioned that she gets <a href="http://www.cookinglight.com/cooking/">Cooking Light</a> and one of the things she likes about it is the cooking tips that it gives, not just the yummy recipes. For example, she said a recent issue discussed the difference between boiling and simmering and how it affects veggies that you're cooking. I thought that sounded like an interesting article too.<br /><br />It wasn't until I was making Sylvia's breakfast this morning that I stopped for a minute and stabbed myself in the eye for getting so damn old.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-15130527774916095752008-02-29T13:56:00.002-05:002008-02-29T14:12:10.463-05:00How Many Gold Is It?<a href="http://puckuandurskates.blogspot.com/">The Spousal Unit</a> and four of our friends (<a href="http://www.gaymo.blogspot.com/">Zoe</a>, BP, Knotts, & <a href="http://knottsknitts.blogspot.com/">Knitts</a>) get together most Friday nights to play <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dungeons_and_dragons">D&D</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vampire:_The_Masquerade">Vampire</a>, or the occasional boardgame. Tonight happens to be D&D night and I happen to be Dungeon Master. Settle down ladies, I know you want me. So I sit down to spend a couple hours preparing the newest adventure for the players but before I do I check my e-mail. Often when I do that I look in my Spam folder because the wiener enhancement ads crack me up. Today was not only no exception, it was also incredibly well timed:<br /><br /><b>Turn your dagger into a broadsword!</b><br /><br />Broadsword. A sword for the broads. I get it.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-534079880598168472008-02-27T10:00:00.004-05:002008-02-27T10:10:03.427-05:003 of them equal 10While we're technically within the city limits, The Spousal Unit and I live in a relatively secluded area. It's on a dead end street with a big, tree-filled ravine in the backyard. The ravine is one of my favorite parts about our house. It provides a lot of privacy, there are tons of animals, and (if I'm too lazy to carry it to the actual poop bucket) I can chuck dog turds down there. I'll sometimes use our poop scooper lacrosse-style and heave them into a steeper area where I never go even when I do climb down into the ravine. But due to my never having played lacrosse (and not being particularly accurate in general) my turd tosses don't always go where I had intended. They occasionally end up hitting (and sticking to) a tree about 15 feet up. Whenever this happens I imagine the squirrels going, "Great. Just fucking great. So much for climbing trees to escape those furry bastards." And by "furry bastards" they mean the dogs. Not 3 week old poop.<br /><br />And if anyone can figure out what the title of this post means you'll get 20 bonus points.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-14286777097513218372008-02-22T22:34:00.002-05:002008-02-22T23:07:38.342-05:00Category 5 HumorSo I'm still at my sister & brother-in-laws' house. That would be The Spousal Unit's sister and her husband. Sylvia and I have been staying here and/or at her brother Karrrl's house for the last week while we've been in Buffalo. Yes, we ate wings, duh. The stories are true.<br /><br />Trapper John & MrsOz (the aforementioned sis and B-I-L) have graced us with 2 nieces and a nephew who are 3 of the main reasons we come here. They're still letting me stay here so I have to make like I adore them. Crap, was that out loud?<br /><br />Anyway, as the owners of 3 young 'uns they have items around the house that the childless among us just don't regularly need. For example? <br /><br /><a href="http://www.trilabproducts.com/products/product.php?productid=120&cat=3&page=1">Hurricane.</a><br /><br />I can't recall trying the stuff but apparently every parent in the country uses it to help their kids when they're teething. The grown-ups use it on the kids who are teething. Not any other incantation of the last sentence. Sylvia <i>loves</i> it. She loves to get it in her throat so she can't feel herself swallow. Hey, we've all got our things. I like watching towels while on acid. Shoot me. And for all you pervs (you know who you are) that swallowing comment was not meant to be gross. I can see your confusion though. <br /><br />It somehow came up in conversation that they still had some Hurricane laying around and since the youngest is 3 (and they finally figured out that when he puts his wiener in her coochie, kids tend to pop out) they don't need it anymore. Sooooo, The Spousal Unit asked is she could have some. <br /><br />Of course she could.<br /><br />MrsOz runs upstairs to get it and upon her return says, and I swear to god this is true,<br /><br /><b>MrsOz</b>: You have to get this from behind the pharmacy counter and they generally only have one bottle so you don't have a choice on flavor. This one is, and I have no idea why, Pina Colada.<br /><br />Chock one up for the Pharmaceutical team. Inventing gateway drugs for children of all ages. God bless 'em.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-5250143553312101072008-02-14T15:58:00.003-05:002008-02-14T16:10:40.056-05:00Wing Time!The Spousal Unit and I are packing up the dogs and heading to Buffalo tomorrow, not to return until next Saturday. This means of course that we are about to indulge in vast quantities of pizza and wings. For anyone who's never been to Buffalo (and hell, who'd really want to go?) the pizza and wings really <i>are</i> that good. Honestly, food there is better than just about anywhere in the world. It's horrible for you and you'll die of some heart problem by the time your 43 but you gotta take the bad with the good.<br /><br />I doubt I'll do much blogging while we're gone but I'll probably end up with a few disgustingly cute niece/nephew stories that I'll post. Naturally I'll mold the stories into something disturbing and/or perverted but hopefully they'll be funny.<br /><br />While we're gone we have some people feeding the cats and the fish (hopefully these 2 tasks will remain independent of one another) so don't get any bright ideas about robbing the house when we're not here. 'Cause really, if you want anything just let us know. I'll be happy to help you carry most of our crap to your car if you'll just take it.<br /><br />Until then, Phollower out.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480282.post-43359293412197745362008-02-12T23:08:00.004-05:002008-02-12T23:31:12.206-05:00Be MineLet me start by saying that The Spousal Unit and I don't do anything for each other for Valentine's Day. Nothing beyond downing a bottle of champaign and fucking that is, so I'm not sure exactly why this bugs me so much: <br /><br />There's this set of commercials on right now for some jewelery company and they really rile me up. I don't remember the name of the jeweler but the gist of the spots is these guys doing things for their wives/girlfriends that are decidedly unmanly, like painting their wife's toes (and saying they should get an extra coat) and making handmade Valentine's cards (because there just wasn't a card that could express how deeply they feel) and then, after showing the guy doing whatever over-the-top wussy thing he's doing, the narrator says, "...because you aren't that guy, there's So-and-So's Diamonds." It just makes me think, "That's right, don't DO anything nice for your significant other. Just buy her something and wait for your BJ."<br /><br />I think doing sweet things for my spouse is about the best way to show her I love her and want her to be with me forever. <br /><br />Then again I could be biased because buying something for Sylvia requires me asking her for money first. And that pretty much ruins the chances for a BJ.Phollowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021541861170953509noreply@blogger.com9