Leinart pulls a me!

Only I never got to nail Paris Hilton before I graduated. Or make millions of dollars afterwards. Or, well, win at anything while I was in school.

See for yourself - nature wins again!

I don't wanna jinx things...

...but I think the Astros may be poised to pull off the improbable.

They just achieved their first 5 game win streak of the season. Yes, their first.

This weekend's series against the Mets could really make or break them. I'm hoping for the former, because I'm going to the game on Saturday night, and nobody likes to see the home team lose.

Ouch

I was going to give you guys a detailing of the Plan B debacle, but someone's already done it, and better than I would've.

Ms. Allen tells it like it is.

And sure, the personal pride thing is the least important issue in the whole mess, but it still smarts nonetheless. After defending El Presidente so adamently and for so long, solely for his stance on life issues, this "compromise" is pretty much a clean stab in the back.

Blah.

Back

Mini vacation was a success. All the pictures we took were just of us standing in front of this or that, or the typical drinking shots, so I'll spare you.

We stayed here:

No, not at the Alamo, but at the hotel looming behind it, the Emily Morgan. Really nice place. You can see the windows of our room in the picture - top floor, third and fourth ones from the right.

I'm off work today, as well. Back to business tomorrow.

It's Friday for me

I finally got a chance to watch Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room last night. Idiotic partisan undertones notwithstanding, it made for quite the interesting watch.

Though by now the narrative is permanently ingrained in the cultural psyche, the story never ceases to amaze. However, it's not the corruption or the greed that awes me; those are far to commonplace to deserve a second glance. Rather, it's the fact that Skilling, et al had the vision to even formulate the exploitatory processes that they did, on the massive scale that they did.

Simply amazing.

My company nearly went the way of Enron, albeit on a much smaller scale, as a result of following its business model, and then suffering the consequences of its fallout. But thanks to a new baller CEO and the decision to pare back down to our core businesses (pipeline and E&P), we've mounted a hell of a comeback in the past few years.

Rah, rah, rah.

I'm leaving for San Antonio tomorrow for some R&R on the Riverwalk, and will be gone until Saturday or Sunday.

Call if you would like to join me on the Margarita Trail.

We're famous!

Kinda.

I check my hotmail about once every two weeks these days, so I just got the heads up on this from Cody, even though he emailed it forever ago.

From texassports.com:

We're O-zoning!

I like how the caption calls us "students".

Geeky goodness

Apparently Lucas still has at least a shred of coolness left, since he gave his official stamp of approval to "Star Wars: Shortened!" It's a 20 minute condensed, comedic version of the entire series, commissioned by Sky TV and written/directed by Adam Long of the Reduced Shakespeare Company. I think they filmed it live last week during a one-off in London, and it's supposed to be broadcast this week in Britain on Sky.

Here is a link to a live interview with Long and actor Richard Linson. Also, if you go here you can find a link to "Star Wars in Sixty Seconds", sort of a promo spot.

Hooray, fanboys!

More Sesame Street

This article is terribly pertinent. I'm trying to rear my genius-clone-son, remember?

Excerpt:

I desperately don't want the show to go away, so I know they can't afford to run the "Elmo accidentally drank bleach and died" episode. Instead, they need to simply take Elmo and his buddies and give them their own hourlong show for the idiot spawn. Then put Luis, Gordon and the cool Muppets on their own half-hour "Classic Sesame" for the kids who will one day actually contribute to our society.

For the record, the new muppet blows.

I think I'm dying

In one of those coupon packets that you get in the mail there was a buy one, get one free deal on BK Stackers. I used it for lunch today on the quad stacker, and ate them both.

I now want to kill myself.

I am a fucking baller

Next day update: I may have been a little inebriated when I did this; hence the title.

Hipness (or Bunny Bunny Bunny)

More hipness from the emptied out swimming pool in Brooklyn. This past Sunday, post hangover, pre going and getting loaded again, I headed out there to have a looksee...again.














These free shows are rocking my ass. Beirut played....













and rocked out...













?uestlove DJ'd....













and hipsters danced....













and danced....













and Deerhoof played....













and was very strange...but great....














I called Richard a few times this weekend to tell him to go see Beirut, as you all should. I would recommend Deerhoof, but I have a feeling that some of you would attempt to kill me after hearing them. If you do go see them though, you will understand why this post is titled so strangely. Seriously though, go see Beirut when they come through Austin.

Lazy bastards

I'm of the firm belief that the purpose of an escalator is to expedite the process of moving up or down floors, much like the moving track at the airport. Healthy humans who simply plant their fat asses on them and then don't budge, managing to simultaneously be lazy as fuck and block the flow of traffic, should kill themselves.

Also, this is totally non sequitur, but you should read it.

Dreher is always very insightful.

Alright, way to go Donnie!

We went to Xtreme Super Bowling on Saturday night, where they turn out all the lights and let you bowl unlimited for like 15 bucks. The music pretty much sucked dick, but they had a real live bar. Score one for us.

Many a White Russian was consumed.

I guess the lunge position that your body naturally ends up in after you roll the ball eventually took its toll on my poor, un-exercised body. Even today my entire left leg from ass cheek to ankle feels tight and sore as hell.

Some of the things that are difficult to do in my current state of semi-immobilization:

Stand
Walk
Wipe my ass
Kneel (at church, not in the truck stop bathroom)
Pick up chicks

That's about it.

Hooray, bowling!

Texas size

Almost.

I really should be working

You know those songs with which you have very vivid memories associated? Those are the best.

Westside Connection - "Bow Down"

I was a Boy Scout for about ever. In seventh grade, my troop reached its peak diversity, when we had not one, not two, but three black kids active. It was November, and we were on our annual camping trip at Enchanted Rock. One of the black kids, maybe Ivan, maybe Roger, had a mix tape with this song on it, and we listened to it all weekend.

Anyhow, sometime during the weekend I got into a bit of a scuffle with another kid, which culminated in me pinning him down to the ground by his throat, and yelling at him that he'd better - you guessed it - bow down.

Actually, I lied, that wasn't really the culmination. After I let him go and was walking away I heard someone else holler "Watch out!" I spun around just in time to see a tent stake zing by my head, narrowly missing its intended target. The kid then grabbed another stake, gripped it Psycho style, and charged me. I fled, until he was stopped by an assistant Scoutmaster. Good trip.



Soul Asylum - "Runaway Train"

When I was in elementary school, I used to listen to the request and dedication hour on 98.7 K-Lite religiously. It was from 9-10 PM. There were several songs for which I would wait in eager anticipation to hear: Meatloaf's "I'd Do Anything for Love", Bon Jovi's "Living On a Prayer", Napoleon XIV's "They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha-Haa!", and of course, "Runaway Train". I loved that one.

We all know what the song is about, right? Right, keep that in mind. One day I got my dad to call it in and request it for me. I was so excited, until I finally heard him on the radio, ending his request with, "...and I'd like to dedicate it to my son, Vincent." Gee thanks, Pop, for the public humiliation.



Lisa Loeb - "Stay"

Remember those general fitness tests you used to have to do when you were young, where they would measure your body fat, and time your sprints, and stuff like that? Well, we were doing one of those. We were in the chin-up phase, it was my turn. Oh yeah, and our coach had the radio on.

I was probably on about chin-up number 12,000 when this song came on. All the girls started singing, and I fell immediately. It was like fucking kryptonite.

Lisa Loeb is pretty cute, though.



The entireties of both the Black Album and Appetite for Destruction

In fourth grade, we took a week long field trip to the Prude Ranch, out in the Davis Mountains near Ft. Davis. It was maybe a 5 or 6 hour drive. We counted on parents to drive, and I drove with Jon's mom.

A little about Jon. He moved to my city/school in second grade. Under his tutelage, it didn't take long until every boy in the class was dropping f-bombs with the greatest of ease. Also, he introduced me to the joy that is marathon, all-night Nintendo playing. And I may have even had my first homosexual experience at his house (kidding...). He moved away in fifth grade, but his four years with us left a life-long impression.

Now, not only was this a 10 hour round trip, there were several more hours of driving involved once we were actually at the ranch - off to Marfa to see the lights, went to check out McDonald Observatory, etc. In the Suburban, Jon not only had an anti-skip Discman, but he had the car kit! (He had fucking everything.)

Guess which two CDs were alternately played, non-stop, every second we were in the car?

I had nightmares starring Axl's voice and Hammett's fingers for a month.



George Strait - "I Cross My Heart"

Eighth grade. School dance. Last song. Pure Country. You fucking know it.

So here I am slow-dancing with this chick, when I pop a mad, mad chubby. She's pretty much a pro though, so she just proceeds to rub one out with her hip like there is no tomorrow, no questions asked. Seriously, she had the moves of a seasoned stripper. What can I say?

Our love was unconditional; we knew it from the start.
I saw it in her eyes, she could feel it in my... err, heart.

I found out that the next weekend she had sex with some douchebag seventh grader in her parent's pool.

Fucking skank.

How I became a genius

Other than the obvious genetic factor, I've come up with five environmental agents from my small childhood that each contributed to the development of my now genius level intellect.

1. Eggs. Specifically, egg sandwiches. Sunny side up, on buttered white toast with mayonnaise, sliced American cheese, and liberal doses of salt and pepper. From ages 2-17, I probably consumed thousands of these. I'm not sure exactly how it worked, but somehow the massive, sustained protein intake worked like some kind of wonderful on my brainpower.

2. Sweet Pickles. And not just the books. I'm talking about the activity cards that came in their own little plastic carrying bus. And a plethora of activities there were - from alphabet stuff, to numbers and counting, arts and crafts, finger puppets, and experiments, Sweet Pickles covered it all. Good investment, Mom.
3. Sesame Street. A steady, daily diet. Learning to recognize the guest stars also added to a general pop culture basis of knowledge.
4. The encyclopedia set. Collier's. Also a good investment, although I think this one was Pop's. When I was a kid I can remember browsing the encyclopedia for hours on end. I'd start on a subject, read the article, and then follow up with whatever it told me to "See also..." In this way, I gave our 24 volume set some major mileage. (This is really interesting because even to this day I still do the exact same thing, for hours on end, only via the internet. Ah, progress...)
5. Equal parts Television and Reading time. Ass-loads of both. Obviously.

And that about does it. So now you know what you need to do to produce a genius child in my mold.

Or, if you're a hot chick, I'll just impregnate you and we can call it even.

I love the smell of stripper in the morning

One of the more unpleasant consequences of always being right is the frustration I am subject to in knowing that most of the rest of the world is, in fact, wrong. This is especially difficult to deal with in discussion, during which people more often than not fail to concede even the simplest, most rational arguments I proffer them.

That said, it's always uplifting when you find that one person who, when presented with the truth, actually internalizes at least a portion of it. I can see it in their countenance the instant this happens - they get that look of amazement, the one that says "this is so obvious, how did I miss this all along".

I've actually gotten that twice this week, both times regarding the existence of the natural law. It's not quite a life-affirming experience when it happens, but it sure does make me feel like I got at least something worthwhile accomplished.

-------------

I've got yet another wedding to attend tonight, and one more next weekend.

Hooray, weddings.

Busiest week ever.

But now it's Wednesday.

Which means dollar pints.

And the future Dr. Siy is town.

So there is hope on the horizon...