Hola blogworld. I need to apologize to all both of my readers. I took a few minutes to read over my last few posts and realized that the last few months have been missing a vital part of what has made this blog the online juggernaut that it has deservedly become. So without further ado, straight from Granny’s house in Abilene after the lights have been out for at least an hour and it’s barely 11, comes the latest edition of… RAMBLINGS!
My roommate made it on the the jumbotron during a baseball game this past season. Needless to say we partied a little harder than usual that night because it is a well known fact that it is the dream of every sports fan to be on the jumbotron. Double bonus points to bigorangematty for making it on the jumbotron for dancing to ‘Twist and Shout’. There are Nobel Prize winners less excited than we were that night.
We decided that the key to getting increased screen time is by pretending that you don’t know you are on camera. The second that you point to the screen you have put a three second lifespan to your ‘stadium fame’. Unless you are an attractive blonde in her mid twenties, then your screentime will last until you start you second WOOOT or play resumes.
Other keys to potentially increasing your screentime include: wearing the home team’s jersey, painting your body, holding up a small child, waving a homemade sign, sitting by yourself in the upper deck, and the ultimate, breakdancing in the aisle.
Next year I plan on borrowing a small child, throwing on matching jerseys, painting our faces, and making homemade signs while we breakdance down the aisles of the empty upper deck seats of the stadium. I figure that should get at least 45 minutes of airtime.
There’s been an interesting phenomenon occurring at Chargers games this year. No, I’m not talking about Norv Turner instilling confidence in the fans. And I’m not talking about me becoming a huge Phillip Rivers fan. At least once a game, the stadium PA blares Bro Hymn by Pennywise. It’s a great punk rock song from the 90’s by a semi-local band that epitomizes the music scene of that era in SoCal. The song has a great guitar riff, and breaks into a chorus that could be misconstrued as a war chant of Whoaaaaah-OH-Oh-oh Whoaaaah oh OH Oh oh. (It sounds a lot cooler than it reads) Point being, a song that came from a local punk band over 15 years ago is now being sung every week by 50k+ fans who have paid an average of $75 for a ticket. Did punk rock win the war? I’m not really one of those ‘punk is dead’ types, but you have to admit something has drastically changed when Bro Hymn is the chant of a professional sports team. I can’t say punk is dead, but i can say it won the war. It took over and is now the music of my generation, now that we have money to buy tickets to the game. Weird.
Does anyone else feel like they dry off quicker with towels that aren’t theirs? It takes me forever to dry off at home, and I have some great towels. And by great, I mean soft and kind of expensive. But you give me a cheapo hotel towel and I’m dry in seconds flat. I thought it was just a hotel thing, but I’ve noticed the same thing at friends houses, gyms, and now Granny’s house. Is it just me or does this issue upset anyone else?
Another phenomenon that I am investigating is why Pepsi tastes better at Granny’s house. research so far points to the fact that most Pepsi at Granny’s house is earned by doing small chores around the house. No matter how old you get, you will always have to do chores at Granny’s house. Fortunately, there will always be a Pepsi waiting for you afterwards.
Too many people get hyped for the McRib. Also, too many people get worked up over what chemicals comprise McRib McMeat. They should really be concerned about what McD’s calls BBQ sauce. Is anyone trying to figure out what chemical waste goes in there?
Science has proven that the second you talk about never locking your keys in your car you will do that very thing within the next 24 hours. Proven by limited research.
Whatever happened to rollerblading?
I pretty much skipped it this year. All I know is that the Giants should send a portion of their bonuses to the Padres with a nice thank-you card for their 10 game nosedive at the end of the season.
The new insurance commercials starring Mayhem in various situations are genius. If they made a tv show out of that ad campaign it would do way better than the geico cavemen. My favorite line so far, “Sorry Robert, five dollars doesn’t buy my attention.”
I’m addicted to watching the TV show Hoarders. By the way, the first sign that you are a hoarder is that cats outnumber people in your house. Sidenote: my room has never been cleaner.
Smell and taste like vomit. There is not enough brown sugar and marshmallows to hide that fact. It’s like a junior high kid throwing on too much cologne to cover up their BO. It just makes more funk.
Last thursday I was hanging out with dantheman and bestbuy in Murrieta. We had gone to the SoCal Youth Ministry Mafia Lunch, and were having a blast hanging out. Then they asked me if I wanted to stick around until midnight to see the new Harry Potter flick. I respectfully declined because I haven’t seen the previous 8 or 9 movies. I’m not against Harry Potter, I’ve just never really got excited about them.
Anyways, they went to buy tickets around 4pm for the midnight show, and I decided to go over and talk to the people who were already waiting in line for the theater to open. I walked up to see a few people with camping chairs and laptops, and a few people dressed up like characters patiently waiting for their movie. Sidenote, any excitement about waiting in line to see a movie has to be quelled by the fact that there are only 14 other people behind you. It really doesn’t get that spectacular until there are hundreds of others behind you, lending some validity to your decision to camp out.
So I walked up and joined the line, and was promptly greeted by a gregarious HP fan who was very excited to have others join her. So I asked her, “Is this the line for Unstoppable?”.
“No!” She replied, “this is the line for Har-Ry Pot-Ter.”
I paused for a second. “Oh, the 5 o’clock showing?”
Another superfan chimed in, “We’re in line for the midnight premier.”
“Oops, I guess I’m in the wrong line.” I said as I started walking off. And then @HPsuperfan1 (i’m assuming that is their twitter handle) dressed to the nines in HP gear blurted out a resounding, “Dork!” in my direction.
A grown man, dressed as Harry Potter, in line eight hours before his movie starts called me a dork. My life is so close to complete. Now all I need is to make it onto the jumbotron somehow.
One love, one heart.