Inter-league Play

Blogging from the frontline, aka 180 Tremont St., aka class. Critical Listening is the beast. Obviously I'm failing at the entire concept, as I am in fact not listening at all. Livin' on the edge, only about 15 peeps in here, so I don't have much cover. Brutal four hour stretch in one little windowless room. Freedom can't come soon enough. Check that chick out in the front row. Word. She digs me. Haha. You can't see her but I can.

Getting picked up from class by a squad car of homies. Ted, Dougal, and Howley are gonna roll wit me to the theater to see Outworlder. Its a movie about a guy who crash lands his spaceship in the middle of 500BC. He joins up with Vikings to battle an alien monster that is chasing him down. Check out the summary online somewhere, it's going to be BRUTAL!

If you have your mixer up real loud, you'd have very little bass in your mix. It's true, he just said that shit. God I hate this class. My blogger brethren, stand with me in my time of weakness. Our human hearing response is non linear! NO!

Blargh

Unpleasant. That is the word I have settled on for my walk to and from school today. So heated that Emerson felt it would be legit to have classes today. Many error messages were going off as I trudged home. Cold, wet, hungry, sleepy. Many a negative.

Anyway, a new 9 Fulkerson has emerged! Everyone can welcome Matt 'Murderface' McDougal into the Fulker Fam. He now occupies the murder room and is a cook over at the East Coast Grill. So next time you go to that spot, buy a round of beers for the kitchen staff. They like to crush. According to google and yahoo, this is what good ol Dougal looks like:

Google:

Yahoo:

Silly search engines, he is neither.

Pure Product

Interesting day for New England sports. Interesting because there was a lot of ancillary news that didn't directly effect New England sports nation (well one of them did). First off, Young Blood Joshy McD is headed to the mile high city to coach the Bronc-hoes. He will fail. As much as I like the guy, no apprentice to the master has succeeded on their own.  Romeo went to the Browns and flushed the franchise down the toilet... like... well... a Cleveland brown. Weis fucked up at ND, and Mangina is just a bitch, so fuck him. We'll see how that goes.

(Power Mustache)

Next up, a pair of Sox waltzed into Cooperstown today. Career Boston player, and all around good guy, Jim Rice snuck in there. Good for him. Also, Ricky Henderson stole his way into the hall (get it? hahaha crappy SPORTS humor). Ricky is going to be the only player to re-enter the league after getting into the hall of fame. Mark my words.

(Ricky Henderson celebrates after stealing home during his son's little league game)

Let's go Celts, c'mon now. Anyone want to hit up a C's game later this week and or next week?

In on the Blitz

Snow has fallen. I awoke this morning and was immediately conscripted into shoveling duty. Not something I particularly mind, but is was really quite cold this morning, frost on the whiskers type stuff. As Commander Roy scraped the snow off the roof, I was put in charge of the driveway. Reinforcements appeared in the form of Colonel White and his snow blowing machine. 

(Thor expresses his love for Winter)

Shoveling gives me time to think. I was thinking about. how low the quality of life in New England has gotten. When I left in the summer to go to LA things were high. The economy had yet to plummet, the Pats were looking at burning down the NFL, the Celtics had just recently hung their 17th, and the Sox were going to coast into the playoffs... kind of. Now, the Celts are slumping almost as bad as the economy (although at half they are ahead of the Canadian Dinos), the Pats missed the playoffs, and the Yankees are fortifying themselves with the biggest pocket book in history. WTF. I suppose thats all I can say is WTF. All that remains constant is that I still dominate the Manchester clix scene.

Have I ranted in a while? I suppose not. hmmmm, what's pissing me off these days.... The whole club scene kind of grinds my gears. I hate going to clubs/bars where they play music too loud. perhaps that makes me sound a bit cantankerous, but it's true. My hearing isn't the best, and I don't typically raise my voice... like ever, so to me this sucks. I would rather be able to converse over a nice pint (ala the Atwood's scene without the live music). I also hate the whole meat market aspect of the club/bar. 90% of the people at these places I immediately dislike. Maybe it's just me passing judgement, but all the dudes come off as douches and all the chicks come off as petty slags. Also, paying 5-7 dollars for something that I could get for literally pennies sucks. 

(Exhibit a: a pack of wild guidos prepare for multiple insertions)

(exhibit b: seriously?)

(exhibit c: smirking goblin entices a couple slags with his exposed chest.)

Just not my scene, nothing against the people who like it... well people kind of. I would consider myself a party man (someone who enjoys parties, not to be confused with a party animal). This kind of scares me however. parties exist post college? If so how far? I really lost my train of thought with this rant, so ask me in person about it, I'll probably have some more fire power. 

Spinning Wheels

Here it is, the year 2009. So far so good. I hope you all ate your lentil soup last week so that you have a profitable and prosperous NEW YEAR. NYE up at UNH was a good time. Many beverages were poured and almost as many were consumed. Much falling down and Dick Clark staring ensued.

I've been reunited with 9 Fulkerson and have completed the move in phase. Jeffguy left some very usable material in the room (lamp, TV, surge protectors, etc.). Good guy. Always will be a 9 Fulkerson. Anyway, I've been crushing a lot of X-Box. Mostly Call of Duty 4 (I also roped DMJr back into it and the 9FLK clan has been ripping it up). I also have been playing Fallout 3. A lighthearted romp through post apocalyptic Washington D.C. Pretty sweet game. I get to fight mad mutants.

Big hopes for 2009. The end of the beginning and the beginning of the end. Only the future ahead of me now. A bit scary, a bit enticing, and quite sexy. Many sexy times will be had in the future. Let's hope the Celtics get the message. THE YEAR OF THE OX looms on the horizon.

(lame blogger won't let me post piccccccccssssssss)