olympics

well i made the mistake just now of watching the olympic basketball game today because apparently i just was not quite angry enough and needed something to infuriate me. here is what i have decided.

1. international referees should have their heads chopped off because they are fucking awful. i mean, when marbury punches a guy in the face right in front of them and they let the game continue; horrendous.
2. the united states needs to learn how to play defense against the three pointer and the outside screen. just terrible to let that team have that many wide open looks at the basket from three point range.
3. if i ever see a u.s. team give up a four point play again (as they did in every single one of the games i watched during the olympics) i will personally see to it that they never compete in the olympics again. that shit is just unacceptable.
4. stephon marbury is the only player allowed to shoot the ball on offense, which is fine cause hes the only one who fucking shows up on the offensive end anyhow.
5. where are the centers and power forwards!!!!!! we have a fucking team of three guards and nothing else! terrible! either make shaquille oneal and kevin garnett play or put them in prison for fucking treason.

i swear, if i have to watch another spectacle like that unfold in my lifetime, i will try out for the fucking team myself and make an absolute mockery of the entire process, as if it isnt that way already. dream team? what a fucking nightmare.

reprimand

so its happened. apparently i didnt knock on the right wood or something. like one day after my last post i got it. i have now had two stern talkings to. apparently one should never attempt to make learning more interesting than the shit the book gives you. oh well, sucks for the poor bastards in my class who now have to be bored to death for the remainder of the year. anywho, here goes another humorous post from mcsweeneys. i anticipate carlson enjoying this more than anyone else, simply due to his strange affinity for anything related to the eighty's. it has no hasselhoff reference, but i still think he will enjoy it.

The A-Team Resolves Lapses in Homeland Security.
BY RYAN BOUDINOT
- - - -
Threat: Al
Qaeda operatives use New York City tourist helicopters to crash into
targets.
Solution: Erect fake backdrops of New York City skyline at
helicopter landing pads. Use smoke machines to generate artificial fog.
Rejigger
instrument panel to falsely indicate helicopter is gaining
altitude. Disguise
Murdock and B.A. as pilots. When terrorists express
confusion, clock them with
helicopter helmets.
Threat: Terrorists
detonate bomb loaded with nuclear
materials in heavily populated
area.
Solution: Murdock and Face knock on door
of terrorist sleeper cell
disguised as pest-control authorities. Meanwhile,
Hannibal unleashes
cockroaches in air vents to give terrorists the willies.
Murdock and Face
gain entry. While terrorists' attention is diverted, replace
radioactive
materials with horse manure. Later, when bomb detonates harmlessly,
have
B.A. deliver line, "Now that's what I call a dirty bomb."
Threat: Car
bomb.
Solution: With soldering iron and sheets of corrugated tin,
disguise
urban assault vehicle as ice-cream truck. As terrorist parks
bomb-loaded
vehicle, Murdock engages terrorist in argument about whose
parking space it is.
While terrorist is diverted, Face enters vehicle and
snips bomb wires with wire
cutter. Should a high-speed chase ensue, use
grenade launchers mounted beneath
ice-cream truck to make terrorist's
vehicle explode and flip onto its roof.
Watch terrorist groggily climb from
vehicle, clutching head.
Threat: Shipping
containers packedwith explosive
materials.
Solution: Tranquilize B.A. with
drugged powdered donut. Fly
drugged B.A. to Pakistan, to meet Face and Hannibal,
both disguised as
radical clerics. Locate plans for ship-container plot
employing the
seductive help of token female member of A-Team. Hide B.A. in
shipping
container. Upon arrival at American port, have B.A. burst from shipping
container in dune buggy he crafted from materials found in container. Have
Hannibal chew cigar and deliver line, "I love it when a plan comes
together."

resurrection

the blog is back. after a summer spent hibernating, i now have access to computers that will allow me to log on to the blogger and give my vast audience crucial updates. so here goes.

i have joined a bowling league. every monday night i drive to roswell or marrietta orsomewhere like that and throw balls at bins. my average was a pretty stout (if i do say so myself) 140 or so until this past week when i apparently decided it would be fun to suck total ass. an 89 in the first game. then a 113. the third game was better, but too little too late and my team ended up losing to a team that doesnt exist. solid stuff there huh. must rebound next week and record a fucking w.

a job. half time dealing with the hooligans here at shiloh. i threaten them with fs and insult them on a pretty regular basis, but so far i have yet to be called into an administrators office to chat (knock on wood), so so far so good. im done at 10:30 or so every day which is nice, unless of course i stay for some reason, but still, half days are sweet.

i have adopted two turtles from the burger. at least for now. they like me, i think.

dans wedding was a success i guess. i mean, they did at least get married, which was kinda the whole point, so i guess that makes it a success. the fucking wedding planner was a total psycho and she hatd me with a passion even though i was on my best behavior. apparently i could do nothing right, including walk, and so i was reprimanded damn near every time she saw me. golf the morning of the wedding went pretty well, at least on the back nine, and i will be earning my tour card soon. the rest of the wedding details i can do without typing right now. maybe later. doubtful, but we shall see.

i may be adding to the shortbus one of these days, but that too requires effort, and well, some days im just not into exerting a whole lot of that, so again, we shall see.

ohhhhh, the firing. man will i have to rant on stone mountain park for a while. but i dont know if i want to get furious at the present moment, so that too will have to wait.

quincy carter a jet? fantastic. hell have that starting job just as soon as he learns the playbook, so maybe in three years.

my fantasy baseball team cannot stay even remotely healthy, hence the name change to team balsa. they are to easily broken. i have given up on this season. and they look so good on paper.

everyone should go to mcsweeneys and check out the story called "winnie the pooh is my co-worker". you may have to go to the archives to get it, but it will be right near the top in the archives section and it is well worth the search. in fact, fuck it, ill tack it right onto my blogger. here goes.

Winnie-the-PoohIs My Co-worker.
BY JOHN MOE
- - - -
March 5
Maureen brought the new guy around who's going to be working in our group. After the Jason fiasco, we really could use someone with a little bit of a brain who can keep up on things. This guy's named Winnie and, I don't know, I just have a bad feeling.
March 9
I've been training Winnie for three days now and I'm ready to kill him. I showed him how the spreadsheets are updated on the network, and he just stared at me with this blank expression. I tried to demonstrate the copy machine, but he somehow got his head stuck in one of the slots. I heard his muffled cry of "Oh, bother!" as five of us worked on getting him out. Honestly, is this the best that recruiting could do? Kirk thinks Winnie might be someone's cousin or something. Not a bad explanation, except that we don't have any other yellow bears working here.
March 11
Although he's worthless, everyone loves Winnie. The girls from marketing come by at least a couple of times a day to hang around his cubicle and talk to him. It's not like they respect his work, since he doesn't do any. And I don't think they even respect him. They're just there to be, like, amused. If he were to make a move on one of them, they'd shoot him down so fast. I mean, I don't respect Winnie, either, but at least I keep my distance.
March 15
I gave Winnie this file of research material on Crawford & Horowitz, because I thought he might want to read up on it before the group meeting tomorrow. I'm doing him a favor, right? So I go to get it back from him after lunch and find Winnie sitting on the floor, his hand in a honey jar, and all this paperwork, including the file I need, smeared with thick honey. It's unusable now. I might as well throw it away. Trying not to just go off on the bear, I asked him what the hell happened. He looked all confused and mumbled something about needing "a little post-lunch snack." Jesus. Have a freakin' apple, dude.
March 16
Turns out Winnie got honey all over his keyboard as well. So what happens? They bring him a whole new computer. Top of the line machine, too. Here I've been pounding away on this ancient piece of crap for years, and Mr. Honeypot gets a whole new setup. The tech guy who came by said it looked like Winnie had never even turned the old machine on.
March 19
Winnie's friends came by to take him out for lunch today: a little pig, a pissed-off-looking rabbit, an adolescent kangaroo, and a tiger that had to be on coke. Kirk said he saw them at Sbarro eating their slices and looking scared out of their minds. I guess they live way out in the country or something, so I bet the big city blew their minds. Winnie was really happy around them, though. I guess that's good, since he's just been sitting around here moping all the time and staring out the window. He should just leave and spend all his time with them.
March 26
Three times this week, Winnie's asked if I want to join him for a picnic or maybe an adventure. No thanks, I tell him very pointedly, I have a lot of work to do. He just sighs and walks off on his own. Silly old bear.
March 30
It's Robin. Walt Robin, the V.P. of finance. That's how Winnie got the job. Apparently, Winnie has some sort of relationship with Robin's grandson or nephew or something. That's what Kirk told me, and he knows someone in H.R. Frankly, I wonder if that's going to be enough to let Winnie stick around. He showed up three hours late today and gave this long story about being chased by bees. Then he brought out another honey pot (his cubicle is covered with empty ones), ate the honey with his hands for a while, and passed out on his desk. I mean, it's so far beyond just not contributing to the workload at this point. It's unhygienic for us, and he's so clearly not healthy. Someone should do something. The little bitch Tami from marketing came by to rub his tummy. Unbelievable.
April 6
Winnie hasn't shown up in three days. I figured he called in sick, but I guess no one's heard anything. He has no phone, so no one's been able to reach him.
April 7
H.R. asked me to drive out to Winnie's house, since I'm his best friend at the company (sad). I followed the directions and found him in this hollowed-out tree where he apparently lives. He must have offered me honey like 12 times. I have to admit, he looked happier than he ever did at work. I asked if he was planning on coming back to work, but he just said that the office was "quite an adventure" but that he was "glad to be home." He really is a nice guy, but I think it's better for everyone that it's over. He told me to come back and visit sometime and I lied and said I would.



there you have it. and there you have the first post of my comeback tour. hopefully i will be able to sustain the blogger for a while this time around. anywho, for now i am out. derek chelf, signing off.