:: Science Schmience ::
I just read this right here, a so-called scientific report, that states taller people are smarter than shorter people.
I would imagine it took these "experts" months of research, and thousands upon thousands of dollars, to come to such an assanine conclusion.
It is hereby disproved:
Kyle Bucholtz is 6'7". I am 5'9".
Done and done.
Fucking scientists.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
:: Home Field Advantage ::
I've been in my new place about a month or so now, maybe a little longer, and I realized that I'm only partially taking advantage of the new opportunities borne from living on my own again.
I'm taking advantage of some, no doubt about it - I walk around naked whenever I feel like it, without worrying that somebody else will be home; I can buy whatever groceries I want to, and unlike when I was at home with my parents, I can cook whatever I want to for dinner. Also, not that I couldn't at home, but I pretty much come and go as I please, without really worrying when I'm home for dinner. If I don't eat til 8:30 now, that's OK.
On that same note, however, I haven't used that newfound power to do things like eat ice cream for dinner, or decent for lunch I should drink a 6-pack of Bud and eat half a pound of gummy bears.
I have not, as a matter of fact, got drunk once in my new pad. Not once in 5 weeks which, quite frankly, is downright shameful.
Also, I now live 5 blocks away from 7-Eleven, yet I've only made a grand total or two visits - despite a rash of new kick-ass slurpee flavours.
So despite my lack of drinking, slurpees, and ice cream, there's also the sad fact that I've yet to use my new bachelor pad for any bachelor-type escapades. Essentially, the joint isn't properly broken in yet, which is sad, since the general consensus is that, as Rachel said, "this place would definitely woo some chicks."
I better get my shit together.
Might as well finish off with a few old quotes too, that I've had kickin' around for some time...
the first day of rafting, when we busted out the water gun...
Me: So, who we gonna spray with it first?
Ian: Well, we'll see what colour shirts Jenna and Rachel are wearing, and we'll go from there.
"I'd just like to be on the right side of a court appearance for once." - Sean, excited about jury duty.
"Hey, I've never had an STD in my life! That's because I do it in the butt." - Bucholtz (who else?)
"Love is ass sex on Sunday." - Bucholtz again
I've been in my new place about a month or so now, maybe a little longer, and I realized that I'm only partially taking advantage of the new opportunities borne from living on my own again.
I'm taking advantage of some, no doubt about it - I walk around naked whenever I feel like it, without worrying that somebody else will be home; I can buy whatever groceries I want to, and unlike when I was at home with my parents, I can cook whatever I want to for dinner. Also, not that I couldn't at home, but I pretty much come and go as I please, without really worrying when I'm home for dinner. If I don't eat til 8:30 now, that's OK.
On that same note, however, I haven't used that newfound power to do things like eat ice cream for dinner, or decent for lunch I should drink a 6-pack of Bud and eat half a pound of gummy bears.
I have not, as a matter of fact, got drunk once in my new pad. Not once in 5 weeks which, quite frankly, is downright shameful.
Also, I now live 5 blocks away from 7-Eleven, yet I've only made a grand total or two visits - despite a rash of new kick-ass slurpee flavours.
So despite my lack of drinking, slurpees, and ice cream, there's also the sad fact that I've yet to use my new bachelor pad for any bachelor-type escapades. Essentially, the joint isn't properly broken in yet, which is sad, since the general consensus is that, as Rachel said, "this place would definitely woo some chicks."
I better get my shit together.
Might as well finish off with a few old quotes too, that I've had kickin' around for some time...
the first day of rafting, when we busted out the water gun...
Me: So, who we gonna spray with it first?
Ian: Well, we'll see what colour shirts Jenna and Rachel are wearing, and we'll go from there.
"I'd just like to be on the right side of a court appearance for once." - Sean, excited about jury duty.
"Hey, I've never had an STD in my life! That's because I do it in the butt." - Bucholtz (who else?)
"Love is ass sex on Sunday." - Bucholtz again
Saturday, August 19, 2006
:: Mothers don't let your sons grow up to be assholes ::
As the last entry would suggest, I had a doozy of a post lined up for y'all. It wasn't 'angry' as one unnamed individual suggested...in fact, it was God-damned hilarious.
Or was going to be, until Friday. Now it's on hold - to be revisited at a later time. Right now though, didn't seem to be the time.
Because my grandma - my dad's mom - died on Friday morning.
She had leukemia, and apparently when you're in the late stages of cancer, things like heart attacks and other things aren't that uncommon, and that's what happened.
My dad found her in the morning, in her apartment. She hadn't answered the phone, and he went to check on her. That was their deal every morning for the past 9 or so months - he'd call at 10 a.m., if she didn't answer, he went over there.
My mom called me around 7 o'clock, from my grandma's house. I missed the call, because I was golfing, but as soon as I saw the the missed call on my phone, I just knew.
I don't know how I knew either - my parents have called me from there many times before, but I don't know why I had a feeling this time.
But I did.
I don't quite know what to say, or type, or do. I don't think the whole thing has sunk in yet. I'm not looking forward to the moment that it does.
But in the meantime I'm angry.
Angry at some of my dad's siblings. I'd call them my aunts and uncles, but since I haven't seen or talked to most of them for the better part of a decade....or longer, I don't really consider many of them family. There's only a few of the seven I know.
"Don't even get your dad started on his brother." - my mom
And one who pissed off off my dad and my family more than the rest.
My dad has an older brother who lives near Calgary. I don't think he's even spoken to most of the rest of the family in probably years. He rolls through town occassionally, saying hello to people when it suits him, but usually not.
He's arrogant, pompous, and as a kicker, pronounces his name differently than anyone else in the family - almost like he has to be different.
When my grandma died, my dad called him in Alberta but he wasn't home. He was in Victoria, visiting one of his sisters. He rolled right through town, and didn't even stop to visit my grandma.
He hadn't been to see her in years - and in the year we all found out my grandma had leukemia, he didn't even call.
Not once in 12 months.
Nice.
My dad, being the calm, don't-rock-the-boat kinda guy that he is, didn't really say anything to his brother. I guess now isn't the proper time to cause trouble, but I've never seen my dad so fucking furious.
Then he says he'll come down back into town "if you need me" to help with the various arrangements.
It's not my fight, and if my dad doesn't want to start a holy war with him that's fine. But it just made me realize how much better a person my dad is than any of his brothers and sisters.
He and my mom were the only ones through this whole thing who took my grandma to the hospital, to the cancer clinic appointment, or out for other errands. Or just to visit.
The only child out of eight.
And none of his other siblings appreciate it in the least. All they fucking do is complain. At least my grandman appreciated it, which I suppose is all that really matters. But it still pisses me off.
All I know is that, if I ever have kids one day, I hope they turn out a lot more like my dad, and a lot less like my uncle.
And I'm pretty damn thankful I'm more like him too.
As the last entry would suggest, I had a doozy of a post lined up for y'all. It wasn't 'angry' as one unnamed individual suggested...in fact, it was God-damned hilarious.
Or was going to be, until Friday. Now it's on hold - to be revisited at a later time. Right now though, didn't seem to be the time.
Because my grandma - my dad's mom - died on Friday morning.
She had leukemia, and apparently when you're in the late stages of cancer, things like heart attacks and other things aren't that uncommon, and that's what happened.
My dad found her in the morning, in her apartment. She hadn't answered the phone, and he went to check on her. That was their deal every morning for the past 9 or so months - he'd call at 10 a.m., if she didn't answer, he went over there.
My mom called me around 7 o'clock, from my grandma's house. I missed the call, because I was golfing, but as soon as I saw the the missed call on my phone, I just knew.
I don't know how I knew either - my parents have called me from there many times before, but I don't know why I had a feeling this time.
But I did.
I don't quite know what to say, or type, or do. I don't think the whole thing has sunk in yet. I'm not looking forward to the moment that it does.
But in the meantime I'm angry.
Angry at some of my dad's siblings. I'd call them my aunts and uncles, but since I haven't seen or talked to most of them for the better part of a decade....or longer, I don't really consider many of them family. There's only a few of the seven I know.
"Don't even get your dad started on his brother." - my mom
And one who pissed off off my dad and my family more than the rest.
My dad has an older brother who lives near Calgary. I don't think he's even spoken to most of the rest of the family in probably years. He rolls through town occassionally, saying hello to people when it suits him, but usually not.
He's arrogant, pompous, and as a kicker, pronounces his name differently than anyone else in the family - almost like he has to be different.
When my grandma died, my dad called him in Alberta but he wasn't home. He was in Victoria, visiting one of his sisters. He rolled right through town, and didn't even stop to visit my grandma.
He hadn't been to see her in years - and in the year we all found out my grandma had leukemia, he didn't even call.
Not once in 12 months.
Nice.
My dad, being the calm, don't-rock-the-boat kinda guy that he is, didn't really say anything to his brother. I guess now isn't the proper time to cause trouble, but I've never seen my dad so fucking furious.
Then he says he'll come down back into town "if you need me" to help with the various arrangements.
It's not my fight, and if my dad doesn't want to start a holy war with him that's fine. But it just made me realize how much better a person my dad is than any of his brothers and sisters.
He and my mom were the only ones through this whole thing who took my grandma to the hospital, to the cancer clinic appointment, or out for other errands. Or just to visit.
The only child out of eight.
And none of his other siblings appreciate it in the least. All they fucking do is complain. At least my grandman appreciated it, which I suppose is all that really matters. But it still pisses me off.
All I know is that, if I ever have kids one day, I hope they turn out a lot more like my dad, and a lot less like my uncle.
And I'm pretty damn thankful I'm more like him too.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Thursday, August 03, 2006
:: Rally Caps ::
Cannons. Second Place.
Not something you probably expected to hear - this season or any other - is it?
No, you probably thought (and rightfully so) that you'd be more likely to read something like "Cannons second-last" or "Cannons banned from slo-pitch for alcohol abuse" or perhaps "Outfielder Bucholtz arrested for statutory rape"
You know, the usual.
And while those headlines may yet be written sometime during Cannons' history, we'll focus on that first one.
Cannons. In second.
Holy Fucking Shit.
Amazing yes, but 'tis no lie. Somehow the Cannons - perennial division bottom-feeders, and basically the Kansas City Royals of Langley Mixed Slo-Pitch - started off the playoffs with a win and then never really stopped.
Friday night? Win. Saturday? A win and a lose - but the win came against the Finishers again, who were the "best" team in the league, standings-wise.
Losers.
Sunday - the final day - was an interesting one. We got through our first game smoothly enough, beating the "I'll-only-swing-if-I-have-to" Patriots by a run or two. That sent us to the semifinals - and by then we had a pretty solid cheering section - parents, grandparents, friends, and even other teams from our division who really want the underdogs to pull it off somehow.
So we did. After all, you can't disappoint the fans.
It was a doozy of a game though, against Tornadoes.
It started pretty strong - we chalked up five or so runs and had a healthy lead until about the fifth inning, when the Tornadoes crawled back after some trademark Cannons defence gave them some free runs.
We tried getting the lead back in our half of the inning, on an infield hit, but I was out at the plate.
And then I watched the rest of the game from the bench.
Fucking umpires. You call them "fucking idiots" once and they give you the boot. On the plus side, I was the first Cannon to be ejected from a game. Proud, proud moment, folks.
Hey, at least I'm in the record book. God knows I ain't gettin' there with my home run totals.
So with me on the bench, and Terry filling in for me in left-centre field, we needed five runs in the bottom of the seventh to tie the ballgame. The top of the order was up, so it was definitely do-able. We smacked out a couple hits, scored a few - and I think Chris and Scotty each had home runs (again. Those two hit the ball a mile all weekend).
When the bottom of the order came up, we had already knocked in 4. Dana was the tying run on third. There were two outs, and Katie - with her 4 or 5 games of lifetime experience playing ball - was at the plate.
No problem.
Katie took a few pitches, and looked pretty nervous up there, knowing the season was on her shoulders. Then she smacked the ball to the pitcher, who couldn't field the ball on time because he slipped.
Katie hustled to first. Safe.
Dana ran home. Safe there too. And the crowd - and dugout - went wild. I've never seen a happier ball team then I did at that exact moment. It was fucking awesome.
That morning, before we'd even played a game, Katie told me that she was going to do something great that day. Something that would win us a game.
Something that people would remember, and later on they'd say "Hey, remember when Katie did that?"
Good God damn prediction.
So the game went to extra's - with the last out from the inning before starting at second base with one out (international tiebreaker rules).
By then the momentum had swung decidedly back in our favour, and boy did we score some runs. Seven of 'em before they could get two outs.
Game. Set. Match.
Fucking rights.
So it was off to the 'ship we went - minus me of course, having been banned for the rest of the fucking tournament - against the mighty Generals.
I'll admit, while I had all kinds of faith we could win considering the roll we were on, I thought maybe, just maybe, the Generals would be too much. They have all kinds of hitters, and they usually thumped us in regular season (like most teams).
We played one outstanding game, though, staying with them - even leading at times - right til the end, when we needed four runs to tie in the bottom of the 7th.
We got three, and the tying run was on third, just a few steps away.
Ah well, can't win 'em all I guess. Although that weekend I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if we did. Man, did we play well.
The only thing that sucks is that next year we're gonna be expected to do some damage in the standings, no more of this 4-18 bullshit.
Which is good because maybe we'll actually do it, but I really liked being the underdog last weekend. And I loved the look on the other team's faces when somebody would say to them, "You got beat by who?"
By the Cannons, that's who.
Nice season guys. Nice season.
Cannons. Second Place.
Not something you probably expected to hear - this season or any other - is it?
No, you probably thought (and rightfully so) that you'd be more likely to read something like "Cannons second-last" or "Cannons banned from slo-pitch for alcohol abuse" or perhaps "Outfielder Bucholtz arrested for statutory rape"
You know, the usual.
And while those headlines may yet be written sometime during Cannons' history, we'll focus on that first one.
Cannons. In second.
Holy Fucking Shit.
Amazing yes, but 'tis no lie. Somehow the Cannons - perennial division bottom-feeders, and basically the Kansas City Royals of Langley Mixed Slo-Pitch - started off the playoffs with a win and then never really stopped.
Friday night? Win. Saturday? A win and a lose - but the win came against the Finishers again, who were the "best" team in the league, standings-wise.
Losers.
Sunday - the final day - was an interesting one. We got through our first game smoothly enough, beating the "I'll-only-swing-if-I-have-to" Patriots by a run or two. That sent us to the semifinals - and by then we had a pretty solid cheering section - parents, grandparents, friends, and even other teams from our division who really want the underdogs to pull it off somehow.
So we did. After all, you can't disappoint the fans.
It was a doozy of a game though, against Tornadoes.
It started pretty strong - we chalked up five or so runs and had a healthy lead until about the fifth inning, when the Tornadoes crawled back after some trademark Cannons defence gave them some free runs.
We tried getting the lead back in our half of the inning, on an infield hit, but I was out at the plate.
And then I watched the rest of the game from the bench.
Fucking umpires. You call them "fucking idiots" once and they give you the boot. On the plus side, I was the first Cannon to be ejected from a game. Proud, proud moment, folks.
Hey, at least I'm in the record book. God knows I ain't gettin' there with my home run totals.
So with me on the bench, and Terry filling in for me in left-centre field, we needed five runs in the bottom of the seventh to tie the ballgame. The top of the order was up, so it was definitely do-able. We smacked out a couple hits, scored a few - and I think Chris and Scotty each had home runs (again. Those two hit the ball a mile all weekend).
When the bottom of the order came up, we had already knocked in 4. Dana was the tying run on third. There were two outs, and Katie - with her 4 or 5 games of lifetime experience playing ball - was at the plate.
No problem.
Katie took a few pitches, and looked pretty nervous up there, knowing the season was on her shoulders. Then she smacked the ball to the pitcher, who couldn't field the ball on time because he slipped.
Katie hustled to first. Safe.
Dana ran home. Safe there too. And the crowd - and dugout - went wild. I've never seen a happier ball team then I did at that exact moment. It was fucking awesome.
That morning, before we'd even played a game, Katie told me that she was going to do something great that day. Something that would win us a game.
Something that people would remember, and later on they'd say "Hey, remember when Katie did that?"
Good God damn prediction.
So the game went to extra's - with the last out from the inning before starting at second base with one out (international tiebreaker rules).
By then the momentum had swung decidedly back in our favour, and boy did we score some runs. Seven of 'em before they could get two outs.
Game. Set. Match.
Fucking rights.
So it was off to the 'ship we went - minus me of course, having been banned for the rest of the fucking tournament - against the mighty Generals.
I'll admit, while I had all kinds of faith we could win considering the roll we were on, I thought maybe, just maybe, the Generals would be too much. They have all kinds of hitters, and they usually thumped us in regular season (like most teams).
We played one outstanding game, though, staying with them - even leading at times - right til the end, when we needed four runs to tie in the bottom of the 7th.
We got three, and the tying run was on third, just a few steps away.
Ah well, can't win 'em all I guess. Although that weekend I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if we did. Man, did we play well.
The only thing that sucks is that next year we're gonna be expected to do some damage in the standings, no more of this 4-18 bullshit.
Which is good because maybe we'll actually do it, but I really liked being the underdog last weekend. And I loved the look on the other team's faces when somebody would say to them, "You got beat by who?"
By the Cannons, that's who.
Nice season guys. Nice season.