Sleeping with a rabid bear...

A picture of me working out last night

So last night I went to work out with a friend after work. We talked about how we got out of shape in our post-college years and how fit and ripped we used to be, and it really got me thinking that Kristi might someday leave me. It's not like I'm anticipating it, but when you gain 50 pounds in a single year you have to wonder what your significant other has to be thinking. Personally, I think it could be her sometimes casually lethargic attitude that attributed to it, along with sitting on my ass in an office all day, along with not working out, and along with eating like Homer Simpson at a chinese buffet. I've really gotten to the point where I think I need to shape up, not just for my body's sake but for the sake of my relationship.

So I joined the gym last night and worked my fat ass to death doing cardio. I drank plenty of water and didn't eat any junk food after. Last night at the poker tournament I was playing in I kept my limit at 2 beers, when usually I end up having about 9. I was doing so incredibly well for my first day back on track. I called Kristi on the way home to tell her the great day i had, but she didn't pick up and I assumed she had gone to bed. I was right.

So I pulled into the car garage around 10:45pm and snuck over to the bedroom. I was expecting my snuggly, charming and beautiful girlfriend to be awaiting me in bed, ready to get close and dream the night away. Instead, when I touched her ever-so-gently on the shoulder she rolled over, in the dark, with an expression similar to this:

That's right..... I was in bed with Large Marge. Or a rabid bear. I couldn't really tell because my eyes were immediately scratched out and by balls were cut off. Well, they might as well have been.

My girlfriend had turned into what I will henceforth refer to as the girlfiend, a creature of mythical proportions that inhabits the souls of unsuspecting young women and causes them to transform their usually pleasant personalities into that of a hungry, angry baby wilderbeast. No one knows the origin of the girlfiend, just that they are extremely dangerous and not well suited to a traditional bedtime environment. I tried to ward off the fiend with a backrub, which sometimes coerces the demon spirit to dissapate, but instead the demon held on strong, and through my vessel of a girlfriend it spoke the words "Walk the fucking dog."

Luckily I was able to escape, and by the time I got back the demon had subsided and Kristi was asleep. However, it's times where I realize that this demon can inhabit Kristi that make me lethargic about my weight. Why should i care if that's what I have to come home to? I was considering cancelling my membership, but this morning she called and apologized for being rude and insensitive. I thought, "dammit, I guess I still have to get in shape." Because I have a strange feeling if I came home fatter I would roll over to find a Great White in bed with me. Get ready gym, HERE I COME!

Crash into me... and I'll come and kill you

Have you ever imagined driving a car that was basically worth more than your life? I know I have often. I picture myself in a 2007 TVR Sagaris, whipping around mountain passes at 140mph while feeling the wheels just sink into the road. I imagine pulling through downtown with 380hp and watching all the beautiful ladies swoon. (This, actually, is more a dream than reality.) I really just want to turn it out, balls to the wall, on a straight-away and go from 0-60 in less than four seconds on my way to reaching a top speed so blistering that my fucking face melts off. I often think of that. And then I think, "Let's crash it."

Orgasm inducing TVR...... vroom...

Not really, but it sure is fun to watch on TV, so apparently that's what happened this past week when Eddie Griffin, that oh-so-funny guy from "Date Movie" and "Deuce Bigelow" (please sense my sarcasm) jumped into a 1.5 million dollar Ferrari Enzo and proceeded to drive it into the wall of a race track. Wow.

No, this is not a scene from "Transformers."

Now I usually excuse celebrity automotive incidents, because they likely involve alcohol and usually (I stress usually) the celebrity in question owns the car. Fortunately for Eddie he couldn't ever afford a car like this so he had to "borrow" Executive Producer Daniel Sadek's wheels to get his crash on. Wow.

So this extremely rare Ferrari gets totalled, and Eddie walks away from the incident without a scratch on him. Apparently Mr. Sadek, after finding out the star of his new film "Redline" was ok, shut himself inside of a trailer, screamed at the heavens, and then contemplated suicide. Actually, he didn't, that's just what I would have done. Either that or grab a rifle and look for any member of Eddie Griffin's family. Or his dog. Actually, he said he took a moment alone and told himself "there's people dying every day. A lot of worse things are happening in the world." That's right, some other guy just had a moron comedian wreck his car on a closed track in Africa I'm sure. When asked about the incident Griffin just replied "Undercover Brother don't know how to drive!" Wow.

This is funnier than any movie I've done... ever.

In all seriousness I do think that it would take some big kahones to just bit your lip while some shit wrecks your custom car, but this story made me think of how rediculous our obsession with vehicles is. I drive a 2003 Tacoma; not the nicest car in the world but servicable. But even when we have new cars we're still looking for something hotter, bigger, more edgy and cool. I dream about owning a TVR, but that's only a dream. I'll never have one, and I'm starting to have the feeling that if I did I'd feel bad about it. Sadek is right, there ARE a million things going on in the world that are bad, but you're not going to see him sell his esteemed rare car collection to do anything about it. And I think if I had a car that expensive, I'd be scared as hell to drive it! I once rented a Lamborghini for a day with a friend, but I was barely able to get it over 80mph because I was so chickenshit. So I say no more dreaming for me.

I want my old Accord back. Or better yet, my 1986 Volvo station wagon. miss those cars more than I dream about new ones. They never broke down and they got me where I wanted to go. I never had a complaint. If a bird shit on my TVR I would go Yosemite Sam on it, and that's why I don't ever need a nice car. After all, I've got enough problems already, just like the rest of the world.

My sister's name is Georgia

Sprinting: Hazardous to your health

I hope everyone had a fantastic St. Paddy's day. I know I did. In all seriousness it was my most sober to date (since college at least) and not exceptionally interesting. I ended up doing what I expected; drinking a lot of Harp and talking with friends. But I did haev one awesome screw up, which occured around 10:30pm during the walk back to our car so we could go to the next bar. My friend Timmy, god damn him, decided to challenge me to a race in the street. He was far more intoxicated than I was, but you wouldn't know it due to my terrible footwork. Mygirlfriend refused to take part in egging us on, so after we lined up and demanded a "ready, set..." she walked the other way. That, in turn, led to Timmy immediately screaming "GO!" and taking off at lightning speed. Now I used to be damn quick, but my weight and dress shoes apparently did not make for a winning combination, and after a few lunges trying to keep up I got tripped up and ate it, headfirst, into the pavement. I still have wounds of my hands from where they dug into the ground. That was humiliating, yet probably the best St. Paddy's day story I have to tell as of yet. But anyway, to the aforementioned topic of conversation....









If anybody loves Georgia, I do. My father went to Georgia and worked there. My mother went to grad school there and worked there. My mother's ex-husband who was aroung for the majority of my adolescence went to school there. I was raised with a bulldawg in my crib, and the first phrase anyone remembers me saying is "Too hell wid jojo teck." The title of this blog is true. I seriously have it in my blood, which is why I am pissed off at all of my friends down here who think that I'm a sellout.





Recently I got into a heated debate, almost a fight, with a friend who made fun of my alliance to my team. I was showing my excitement for G-day weeknd, and flaunting my cheap plane tickets when he interupted with, "Dude, you didn't even go there. Why would you care?" It's a funny question that I've been asked many times, and it's a bit hard to explain. He's right, in a sense. I went to Florida State, a school that has fans equally as ravenous and intense as Georgia does, and I should be a Seminole by all means. But what most people don't give me credit for is that I tried. I REALLY TRIED. My freshman year I went to every home game, threw parties, and joined in the festivities. I cheered my guts out. Now it might have been that my tenure was the entirety of the Chris Rix era, and it might have been Bowden's growing senility, but at the end of that season I had a bad taste in my mouth. A bad taste that could only be cured by Georgia.





I don't hate Florida State Football, in fact I cheer for them always, unless of course it is this scenario:

Where have all the merry-Musas gone?

I think when it comes down to it, when you are engrained with a certain standard in your head you can't outgrow it. It is always a part of you. I'm fortunate that my upbringing brought me to the bulldawgs, while my girlfriend's brought her to the Vols. I think I came out better, and I look terrible in orange (but then again, so does everyone.) I just say lay off the criticizm for loving the team you love. I have much more pathetic reasons for liking teams like the Sacramento Kings, but no one gives me a hard time about THAT. I'm just a product of my environment, and after seeing many other schools and teams I am thankful for the one that I have.

On a closing note, my girlfriend once told me she would never cheer for Georgia. This is usually the point where you either jet or sign a prenuptual immediately, but I came back with a "you wanna bet?" We had plans to go to the Cocktail Party, and she knew it, and even though I spent WAY too much money on the tickets she was convinced she wouldn't enjoy it. Halfway into the third, when Matty threw his TD pass I heard, among the roar, my girlfriend say "YEA- ......." That said it all for me. I threw her a knowing glance, and eyes narrowed. I'm thinking she's never betting multiple sexual favors ever again.

Hump Day Hangover Cure

Alright, I found a couple of things this week that are just too damned funny to describe. First of all, I miss Georgia terribly. The school AND the actual state. I have always had good times there, and it's fucking heaven compared to the shit hole I live in now. But this is one of the following reasons that I love it so much; the craziest shit happens there.

Two days ago, in Acworth (which is a high class suburb of Atlanta) two EXTREMELY young women robbed a bank by the sheer power of a sticky note. Yes, a sticky note. The walked in without any weapon and handed the teller a note demanding cash. Here is a photograph of these terrifying women:

Has somebody questioned Mary-Kate and Ashley?

Now maybe I'm being a little unfair here, but shouldn't these girls be in school? The official report says that they are looking for these girls, who escaped with what was expressed as a considerable sum, with the description that they could be as young as fifteen. FIFTEEN!!1!!1! The kids these days...... But seriously, Don't you think the teller could have just laughed and told them to fuck off? I'm sure it was a traumatizing experience and all, but usually when I see two young women come into my place of business wearing sunglasses and making demands by post-it I thank God. Which leads me to the obvious conclusion; the bank teller was a man and is complicit in their scheme because he wants to get laid. Because I know that if this happened, in sunny south Florida at least, some ninety year old Jewish lady would jump over the counter and beat the assailents to death with a handbag and a bad New York accent. This makes me want to take up a career in bank heists. One web site, that is much funnier, showed this story's headline as "Kappa Kappa Give Me Your Money: Two Hotties Strike Acworth Bank."

Now the funniest parts of this (besides the fact that the two girls apparently laughed throughout the heist) is that 1) The police haven't made a positive ID yet, despite how many people have seen these pictures, and 2) When the police arrived on scene to investigate, they actually ended up arresting SOMEONE ELSE. Apparently one of the tellers had an outstanding warrent against them, which was revealed when the banker was being questioned. Cheerleaders 1 : Bank 0. That's so fucking funny there is no way I could have made it up.

In the words of Michael Stipe, "everybody hurts sometimes."

So once again my beloved bulldogs lost to an SEC rival, being effectively handled by the Wildcats. While Georgia did make an impressive run at the end of the game it was never really THAT close, and so now it looks like the Bulldogs will once again be NIT bound with a chip on their shoulders. I'm not sure how long it will take for Dennis Felton to resuscitate the program, but it looks like we're still trudging along at the bottom of the SEC East, and with the formidable young talent on the other teams it looks as though we are going to be there a bit longer.

Also, I'm just not impressed with Mike Mercer. I certainly wish he wasn't lost for the season, but a lot of people are making him into the saviour of the team, while personally I feel he has taken the most poor shots in the SEC. He forces the ball, gives up turnovers, has a terrible shooting percentage, and pretty much thinks he's Allen Iverson. Unfortunately, he's not, so Mr. Felton is going to have to get his other young talents to step up next year.

Another mimosa, please.

In other news, the Georgia sports program continued it's dynasty of self-deprication with the arrest of future star linebacker Akeem Hebron. Now he's a young kid and I think I would attribute this particular incident as foolish and immature, but he's going to need to grow out of it quickly if he's going to find a place on the field. He's an insane talent, and if he's nearly as good as the people say then it's really going to hurt not having him on the field for Oklahoma State come next season.

Top Five - Favorite "Jam" bands (or all musical)

1. String Cheese Incident

2. Liquid Tension Experiment

3. Phish

4. Explosions in the Sky

5. OAR