The Chinese Buffet Blog

The Challenge Episode 2 Liveblog

2012-02-01T21:50:00.000-05:00

Bachelor Party: Episode 5 Diary

2012-01-31T21:44:00.011-05:00

(Editor's note: While writing the recap last night my laptop charger inexplicably stopped working. It was miserable just slowly watching my battery die knowing it wouldn't last the two hours needed to view the episode. I got through just over an hour before she died and therefore had to finish tonight. On an unrelated note, I forgot to pack a second pair of undies for the gym this morning and freeballed it for the first time ever as a teacher. It was TERRIFYING. Not that I routinely get boners teaching, but sometimes you just can't help the places your mind goes. The kids will be taking a test and all of a sudden at my desk I will think, "Hey, remember that time that girl let you do that stuff. THAT WAS AWESOME." and I can't help it. I hope it never happens again. Without further ado, The Bachelor recap.)

And we're back! I had to avoid twitter and certain corners of the internet today so I didn't encounter any spoilers from last night's episode. The only factoid I know going in is that there is apparently a lot of Courtney and Blakeley featured this episode, which just raises the excitement level. In fact, a number of my friends were going to a bar for trivia night located literally thirty yards from the rectory. A night full of drinking and yelling useless information is always right in my wheelhouse. Instead, I drove an hour south to the shore to drink Jameson and watch last night's episode of The Bachelor on demand. If my mother ever finds that last sentence, tell her that at least I never gave it my best shot.

With two warm-up drinks in me, it's time to get things started. The drinking rules for tonight's viewing are as follows:

- During any and all aquatic make-out sessions you have to take a shot of Malibu Rum and play a game of MASH. "I'm gonna marry Mariah Carey, live in a shack, drive a Durango, and have 6 kids!"

- Whenever someone mentions "falling for Ben", you have to take a shot of tequila and do a trust fall alone in your kitchen.

- Accompany every mention of Ben's DEAD dad by poking the inactive Facebook account of someone who recently passed away.

- With any mention of being there "for the right reasons" you must drink a warm Coors Light while sitting in a folding chair in the shower with the Spiderman 3 soundtrack playing on loop.

Let's Go!

:00 - "Tonight on The Bachelor" AHHHH SKIP! Some predictions:

- Seeing as how we are in Puerto Rico, I am setting the over/under on aquatic make-out sessions at 3.5.

- Last week Emily told Ben he didn't think Courtney was there FOR THE RIGHT REASONS and he kept both of them. Emily spends the duration of this week's episode with a noticeable limp saying she got it from clumsily falling down the stairs.

- Courtney delivers no less than 13 throat slash gestures. David Stern tries to fine her and the NBA is bankrupt within 3 months.

- Blakeley's boobs play such a prominent role in tonight's episode that they star in a Pixar movie in 2014 (voiced by Chelsea Handler).

- Kacie B. continues to come across as the cutest sociopath in America.

- Lindzzzzzzzzzzzi, lover of last minute dates when the person who was supposed to go on the date LEFT FOR THE RIGHT REASONS, only gets a rose after Courtney shows up to the ceremony wearing Emily's vertebrae and is still ecstatic.

- Casey S. continues to not be Kacie B.

- Jamie, Jennifer, and Elyse appear in a police lineup where Ben incorrectly identifies all of them.

- In the same police lineup Kacie B. points at the black police officer and says he is the guilty one.

:02 - "All the girls get a date this week, so no one will feel left out." Ben, while desperately trying to take a sip of a completely empty glass.

:02 - "This seems like an amazing place to fall in love." - Emily or Natalee Holloway (sorry).

:04 - Ooohhh. Interesting twist. If you get a one-on-one date with Ben and DON'T get a rose, you go home immediately. Just come out and say, "Third base or bust." flannel shirted useless host guy. Why is this guy here? I thought it was decided that all reality contests should be hosted by TJ Lavin?

:05 - Nicki gets the first date! I've literally forgotten every detail about Nicki's existence. Was she the dental consultant? "Let's find a new love in old San Juan." is almost certainly a reference to anal sex. Well played Ben. In other news, I will now be referring to my grundle as Old San Juan for the foreseeable future.

:05 - Courtey's shit list apparently does not coincide with Ben's leap list.

:06 - Shit! Nicki is the dental hygienist not the consultant. I'm already half drunk and 100% confused.

:o6 - "I think the foundation has been laid, and years later when we sell this house the new homeowners will find the bodies of 4 women sealed in concrete in said foundation." -Nicki explaining Courtney's murders

:07 - Another helicopter date! Ben is clearly saying, "I don't really wanna talk to you face to face, but, HELICOPTER RIGHT?!"

:08 - "It's like God's smiling down on us right now." - Nicki
Thank you Nicki, for my permanent atheist argument. "Hey people who believe in God, this girl Nicki once ordered a sno-cone in Puerto Rico while vying for the love of one man with 10 other women on national TV and claimed this was God's work. I await your rebuttal."

:08 - It just started raining and Ben is diamond hard.

:09 - "It's raining gatos." - Ben, who thinks just because he has day laborer facial hair that he has carte blanche to invoke a Latin accent when he sees fit. ESPERO QUE MUERRRRRAN BEN-HAH-MEAN.

:10 - "We are gonna try to find the most authentic Puerto Rican clothes we can." - Nicki explaining this moment when her and Ben went and bought the most racist/stereotypical clothing white people assume Puerto Ricans wear. Honestly, this is offensive. Thank God (Science) they aren't in Atlanta so Ben can't walk around in a FUBU sweatsuit.

:10 - Ben just said he had "Latin swagger" and I stuck a spork in my eye. Nothing to see here.

:11 - FALLING FOR HIM ALERT!
/ruptures spleen

:12 - Nicki's nail polish is awful. This post was sponsored by Courtney's Catty Corner.

:13 - Ben looks like Dr. Moreau with Down Syndrome in that outfit.

:14 - OH GOD. Nothing could have prepared me for Ben purposely wearing overalls that he isn't actually wearing. This is it guys. We tried, but someone else won. I give up. Blurry screen shot but you can kinda make them out.

:14 - My first thought anytime I watch a wedding is to giggle while thinking their first song is gonna be "Rape Me" by Nirvana.

:16 - The more I watch Ben the more I want to watch him attempt anything athletic. He would totally be that guy playing pick up basketball in New Balances who just fouls people and hits the backboard on all his shots.

:17 - Elyse appearance. No idea who she is. It's way too early for me to be this drunk and forgetful. Please disregard anything I write after the 30 minute mark .

:17 - GROUP DATE WITH A TWIST! If you aren't on the group date, it means you get a 1-on-1 date. There's a Jamie here? Elyse secures a 1 on 1! The last minute was like watching the NBA draft lottery but SO much more depressing.

:19 - Nicki gets a rose! She kinda sucks. I say she is eliminated next week.

:21 - Ben making Roberto Clemente part of this show is a crime against humanity.

:21 - Apparently Ben wrote "Diamonds are a girl's best friend" on the date card and these girls are legitimately upset they are playing baseball and not getting jewelery. I know how these girls feel. I once went to a "Bear Lovers" party expecting it to be a bunch of manly guys drinking beer, dipping skoal, and watching hunting videos. THIS WAS NOT THE CASE.

Please remind me to delete my google search history later.

:22 - I don't dislike this montage of women doing baseball drills in short shorts.

:22 - The upcoming screen shot was taken as whoever that blonde girl asking "Do you catch it like this or like this." and turning his glove both ways, like you would potentially not use THE POCKET to catch the ball. CULL THE HERD CULL THE HERD.

:25 - And Ben gives Lindzzzzzzzzzzzzi an invite to some party for tonight. The rest of the broads have to win a baseball game for the right to go.

:26 - Has anyone started a porn site featuring women in eye black? No?
/registers eyeblackbeauties.com

:28 - Ben just made such a shitty throw. He's un-marry-able. I just made up that word solely out of my hatred for Ben. LOOK AT THAT FORM!

:29: - They just tried to let a black person play in this baseball game and Kacie B. protested by saying, "Satchel Paige was a faggot."

:31 - Red team wins! Ben, please stop pretending you know shit about sports. He uses the same sports buzzwords to make us think he has a clue. This video effectively summarizes Ben's sports knowledge:

:32 - Blakeley is crying. The FDA bottles her tears and eliminates autism by 2015.

:35 - There is a zero percent chance he keeps Jennifer solely based on the fact she looked WAY too natural in baseball warmups.

:36 - Listening to Courtney size up her competition should be its own Shark Week.

:38 - I'm now fully out of my black woman phase and into the "naive cute southern girl" phase. Thank you Kacie B. I'm going to move to Charleston next year.

:39 - Kacie B. gets a rose! Courtney sharpens her talons. She just stole Ben. I forgot to add anytime a girl asks to "steal" Ben you have to drink Everclear and shout at a stranger for proof of life. Shit is about to get REAL.

:40 - AQUATIC LOW TIDE MAKE OUT!

:42- I keep having to skip these "coming up..." segments. In other news, I would kill a homeless man for some pigs n blankets right now.

:43 - "Elyse, let's find love somewhere private." - Ben, anal enthusiast

:44 - Elyse is going home. I have zero idea who she is.

:46 - "I've done everything I've wanted to do." - Elyse not realizing perverts like me are going to watch and interpret her words.

:48 - Elyse is fun to look at.

:49 - Ben in a tux just immediately brings to mind Kermit the Frog.

:51 - Elyse ain't getting no rose after this date

:52 - AND ELYSE IS GOING HOME! Her "trying to make herself cry face" is the stuff of legend.

:55 - Jesus Christ Elyse. Are you sponsored by Kleenex? I haven't heard this much sniffling since the first time I came home drunk in 2000 and my mom found me.

:57 - Ben walking barefoot but in a tuxedo on the beach was just my personal holocaust.

:58 - Courtney cracking jokes at Elyse's expense is so good. She's just chugging red wine in a robe not giving a fuck. So much respect.

:59 - "I don't know if he has ever skinny dipped with a model before." - Courtney. Well Courtney, I once took a bath with 4 other 6 year old boys and one of them took a dump which slowly floated to the top of our bath and led to FULL BLOWN PANIC.

1:03 - WHOA! FULL BLOWN SKINNY DIP! Every time I see some side boob a little holographic Lee Greenwood appears to play "I'm Proud to be an American."

AND I'M PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN, WHERE THEY HAVE SIDE BOOB ON TV. AND I WON'T FORGET THE MEN WHO WORKED, TO SHOW THAT SIDE BOOB TO ME!

1:05- Ben feels crappy about his skinny dipping penetration with Courtney. Must have been awful for ya Ben.

1:06 - This is our first Jennifer sighting. She is cooked. Ben just called their date "rad". She's fucked. "Yea, our conversations are easy..." O Jennifer. You couldn't be picking up less cues. Ben is on pace to end this conversation with a fist bump. Pack your shit.

1:07 - Blakeley is sneakily unattractive in the facial region.

1:07 - "I've found something inside of me." - Blakeley calling 911 after attending NBA all-star weekend. That's an unfortunate wrist tattoo Blakeley. The worst part about it is that such a tattoo doesn't even crack her top 20 of regrettable life choices.

1:07 - "Every day I write something down about you that I really like." - Blakeley.

Blakeley's Journal, Monday January 30th: Ben is so wunderful ;). 2day he said "your grate Blakeley" and even almost looked me in the eyes!!!!!

1:08 - Why is Ben allowed to walk around with a straight up middle part without being detained?

1:09 - Courtney casually bringing up skinny dipping is wonderful.

1:10 - Jennifer is hammered drunk. If Courtney lets loose that she skinny dipped with Ben I'm fairly confident she will just walk out into the ocean crying and never be seen again.

1:11 - Emily is putting herself out there. This should end well.

1:13 - Well, that didn't work Emily. She is confused as to why he would keep someone like Courtney around. "I present to the court exhibit A, skinny dipping carnal passions."

1:14 - If Emily somehow got herself booted ahead of Jennifer, it would be one of the greatest blunders in American history. All she had to do was essentially run the clock out and not foul. Instead she took a half court shot, then fouled someone while they made a 3 pointer.

1:15 - ROSE CEREMONY! Let's break it down:

- I have already forgotten who is safe, but at this point I think it is a two horse race for the kick to the curb. It has to be either Jennifer or Emily. I really hope it's Jennifer just because her sobbing will be incredible and I want to see Emily meet her end by the hands of Courtney alone.

1:16 - Lindzzzzzzzzzzzi gets the first rose. She's slightly upset it wasn't a last minute rose, but she will take it.

1:16 - Jamie, the forgettable, gets a rose.

1:16 - Rachel, the college experimental lesbian gets the third rose. Let me just say that eliminating Courtney at this juncture would change my whole opinion of Ben.

1:17 - SHIT. Courtney gets a rose.

1:17 - The wrong Casey (Casey S.) gets a rose. You better not trifle with my girl Kacie B.

1:17 - BLAKELEY! Insert Viking horn noise as Blakeley and Courtney survive to pillage again .

1:18 - Down to the final rose. Once again, why do we need this host guy? He literally just came out solely to say, "Well, this is the last rose, go ahead Ben." I make 20,000 dollars a year to spend my days with 11-14 year old maniacs 5 days a week and this guy got a free vacation to Puerto Rico in order to just remind everyone of what we were actively watching. In other words, FUCK.

1:18 - And just like I predicted we are down to Emily and Jennifer. O man. It has to be Jennifer right? Then again, Emily's last interaction with Ben went so horribly she kinda deserves this.

1:18 - EMILY GETS THE ROSE. THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT. THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT.

1:18 - Our super important host just showed up to let Jennifer know she could say goodbye to people.

1:19 - YES JENNIFER. YES. THOSE SWEET SALTY TEARS WILL SUSTAIN ME.

1:19 - "Being loved is one of the greatest things in the world." - Jennifer, who doesn't have high speed internet access. Man did Jennifer's crying not disappoint.

1:20 - She's crying so much she has the hiccups. Or it could be all the wine she drank by the pool. If I'm the driver of that car there is no way I don't try to get a pity handjob.

1:21 - We're going to Panama City, Panama in Panama which is located by Panama!!!!

1:21 - Full shot of Blakeley's tattoo. I'm pretty sure it reads, "Perchance to dream." Either that or, "NBA or bust."

1:22 - "Next week on The Bachelor." Once again, I don't give a shit host. I'M GOING TO WATCH THE SHOW. I need to see this guy's resume. He legitimately has the best job in the world.

Alright team. Til next week.

Mr. R

Live from Detention: It's God vs. Gays! On CBS!

2012-01-31T14:40:00.005-05:00

What it do nephew?

The teacher who usually hosts detention today was not feeling well and asked if I could take the reins. She waited until after I agreed to show me the list of twelve savages with detention reservations. The whole vicious 7th grade mean girls clique is here and just dominating. My detention strategy has always been to let kids out early if they are quiet and keep them late if they talk. Until now it has worked flawlessly and provided me with forty-five minutes or so of silence instead of an hour plus of giggling. Today is not one of those days. Every few minutes the room breaks down into an all-out giggle fest. They would probably be easier to stop if I was an actual adult and didn't smirk during said giggle fests, but I'm only one twenty something year old man-boy adrift in a sea of hormonal imbalances.

The main downfall to hosting detention today is that it has pushed back my Bachelor recap to closer to 10 tonight. Unfortunately, it also seems that the liveblog format for The Bachelor will not be doable for the near future. I took a second job helping run an open gym two nights a week in addition to having basketball games and working another two nights. Yesterday I got in the car at 5:30 am and between school, practice, and the second gig I did not get to put my immediately pant-less behind on the couch until around 11:00 pm. I complain now, but when I have all this disposable income to squire beautiful women (buy Pringles and vodka) around town on romantic evenings (catch-up on The Bachelor drunk, alone, and covered in Cheddar Cheese Pringles), I will be thankful I took the second gig.

I also just realized I have grad school class this weekend and now have to remember where I put my book and syllabus let alone do any necessary assignments. I'm living such a lie as the young atheist in this Catholic School program who would rather be doing anything than discussing the love of Jesus Christ on a Friday night. Anytime the conversation skews towards religion, I actively try not to make eye contact like I would all through college when a teacher would bring up the assigned reading. I partially exposed myself (there has to be a better way to say that...) last month when I got a ride home from a religion teacher. She kept talking about religion and asking me questions until I finally blurted out, "Yea, I'm not really into all this God stuff. Just isn't for me. If faith plays a positive role in your life, then great. I just have a problem when people use their faith to discriminate against other groups." This led to a conversation on gay marriage and the exchange went something like this:

Her: I just truly think marriage is meant to be between a man and a woman. Also, a child needs to be raised by a man and woman. Gay marriage ruins the sanctity of marriage.

Me: What did Kim Kardashian's wedding do to the sanctity of marriage?

Her: (blank stare). It's just the way it should be.

Me: Why?

Her: Because that is what the Bible says.

Me: But that is because you interpret the Bible as fact whereas I interpret it as something more along the lines of fairy tales with morals at the end.

Her: (visibly rattled that anyone would not interpret the Bible as fact): Yea... but... society, not even religion, as shown that this is the way it should be for centuries.

Me: Society is forever changing. Why is something right just because society says it is? That has been very dangerous logic throughout history.

Her: What do you mean?

Me: So if I was a southern plantation owner in the 1800s, society told me I could own black people and treat them like farm animals because they were a lesser form of human. Was I not wrong because the society I lived in said that was OK?

Her: (long pause) I'll have to get back to you on that one.

AND SCENE.
-----------------------------------------

I keep telling myself it will be worth it in two years when I can yell, "That's DR. R to you pal!" drunkenly at a Taco Bell employee after they tell me;

"Um, sir. I can't in good conscious stuff a steak quesadilla with hard tacos, deep fry it, and let you cover it in the half a can of Pringles you brought in here with you. Also, you technically have to buy a cup and can't just use the fountain fruit punch to make a giant cocktail with that handle of vodka you're carrying. Now seems like a good time to tell you about our lord and savior Jesus Christ."

Bachelor recap later.

Mr. R

State of My Union

2012-01-26T20:19:00.004-05:00

After watching the first thirty minutes or so of Obama's State of The Union Address with my four History classes yesterday, I feel it is only appropriate to update Congress on how things are going in my life. I will leave ample spacing for standing ovations in between bullet points.

- I made one of the most important decisions of my life by giving up wearing underwear to the gym. Like most of my great ideas, it happened when I had failed to do laundry for some length between two weeks and eight months. About ninety seconds into my first undie-less workout I realized, "Hey, I don't have to pick a savage wedgie right now!" More importantly, no undies at the gym means I immediately cut the number of undies I go through in a given week in half. You have no idea how big a development that is for someone who sniff tests the majority of his clothing before getting dressed daily.

- Speaking of the gym, I got stuck working out next to one of those no music LUNATICS last night. I don't trust people who don't listen to music when they work out. They fall into the same category as people who:

Can balance without holding anything on subways
Use spray deodorant
Own driving gloves
Are vegetarians
Take spin classes
Buy bumper stickers
Drink Coors Light
Text message in votes for American Idol
Own a fedora
Follow Arena Football
Eat Nachos in movie theaters
Write irrelevant personal blogs

My bigger problem with the no music people is that it makes me self-conscious of them hearing the music coming out of my headphones. Here is a list of the three most embarrassing songs that came on during said workout that I turned down but not off because, well, I'm not cool.

Bon Iver- Skinny Love

I'm an unabashed falsetto fetishists. This seems like the song that would play during the closing montage of a particularly poignant Friday Night Lights episode. TEXAS FOREVER.

Whitney Houston - I Have Nothing

I will never apologize for having Whitney all over my iPhone. What I will apologize for is instinctively raising a fist towards the sky while on an elliptical at around the 3:40 mark.

Brandy & Monica - The Boy Is Mine

I had forgotten I recently added a middle school playlist to my iPhone and this song came out of nowhere. Did I grin and internalize 13-28 finger wags during it's run? Will Mike Tyson fornicate with you until you have more than friendly feelings for him?

- As of today I am in all out war with the boys in my 6th grade class. The transition from having a 7th grade homeroom to 6th has been tougher than I imagined. The problem is they are such bigger babies than the 7th graders I've had. Give me mid-pubescent sexual angst over whiny tirades any day of the week. The beauty of having the crazier 7th graders was there was a much clearer line of inappropriate behavior and then punishment. "Oh, you just called that other girl a 'ho' and pulled out her weave? Yea, you get detention." Or, "Um, we aren't really allowed to call other students pussy ass n*ggas in religion class John, why don't you see me later."

Now I have kids just one year younger but light years pettier. I had to dedicate an hour recently to give a lesson on snitching. Granted it was called the politically correct "Tattling vs. Telling" but it was essentially a "Stop Snitching" campaign. For the uninitiated, the difference between tattling and telling is quite simple. Telling is when you say something because a person is hurting themselves, someone else, or damaging property/committing a crime. Tattling is saying something purely to get someone else in trouble. "Jane is chewing gum!" is the most common tattle. Anytime someone says something like that I find myself screaming, "What does that have to do with you?! Was she bothering you or interrupting class?! Did I catch her?! THERE ARE ENOUGH SNAKES ON THIS PLANE ALREADY!"

These kids LOVE snitching. Especially after they have gotten in trouble themselves. The minute one kid gets in trouble, they then turn their entire focus to getting a fellow classmate in trouble. Misery, company, et al. It has reached the point that I now have established a separate set of punishments just for snitching. The universe has begun to collapse in on itself that kids are now snitching on kids FOR SNITCHING.

The boys are the worst offenders. They are unbearable. I'm not saying I hate them, but I hate them. They try to play games with each other throughout class and spend the whole day smirking at each other. I've had to recently ban crossing your fingers in class because it apparently was part of some cooties game they were playing. COOTIES GAMES. 6TH GRADE. Are you shitting me? I also had to stop leaving a box of tissues on my desk because they were playing a game to see who could acquire the most tissues during the day. This is the kind of shit that makes me drink gin on Thursdays (read: Mondays, Wednesdays, Sundays).

I have always gotten along better with girls in class and it's probably just because I was once a middle school boy and know deep down how big of assholes they all are. Stop looking at me all innocent kid. I was 12. I KNOW you are smirking and thinking about boobs and how to pants your buddy within the next hour. The problem is whenever one of my boys claims I favor the girls, I don't toe the company line and say something like "Of course not. I like you guys all equally." Instead, I take the "Boy Who Cried Wolf" approach and lecture on how your past actions dictate your present treatment. It's just how the world works. Get used to it. Of course I'm going to believe the girl who has never looked at me sideways over your ass who, just last week tried to shove someone's head in a toilet. Sorry buddy. Stop being such an insufferable prick and maybe I would give you the benefit of the doubt.

- Tomorrow we have a half day in which the teachers are allowed to dress down and the students can wear their gym sweatsuits. That would normally mean I wear jeans and an untucked button down, but I hate jeans. Therefore, I am taking it as an opportunity to pass my laziness off as a showing of solidarity with my class by wearing my sweatsuit as well. "If you guys can't wear jeans, then I won't either! We are in this together! Attica, Attica!" said the hungover teacher thrilled to be in sweats and underwear of a questionable cleanliness.

Speaking of jeans, my one pair of jeans has developed quite the crotch hole over the past few months. These are the same jeans I had patched after my near gay threesome, so they have a special place in my heart (read: black vacuous void). I am going to take them to the dry cleaner tomorrow for a repair because buying new jeans seems like something I would have to waste time doing instead of not trying to make friends.

- I got to school around 7 this morning and did my usual routine of coffee drinking and class preparing. At one point a first grade student wandered into the faculty kitchen looking lost. I tried my best to introduce myself and ascertain what they needed without being terrifying. After a solid thirty second pause and open mouth gaping, the boy looked up at me and said, "Is you the dad from The Incredibles?" I giggled and told him yes but that he couldn't tell anyone. Secret identities and all. Later on in the day I was complimented on my sweater which I had only put on because, upon getting dressed at the gym this morning, I realized there was a savage pizza stain on the shirt I was planning to wear. That is nothing a quarter zip sweater I found in the back of my trunk could not fix.

That pretty much sums up the State of My Union. No undies. 80s pop. Pizza stains. Authoritarian. Cartoon character.

Until next time

Mr. R

Battle of the Exes Liveblog: The Premiere

2012-01-25T20:58:00.004-05:00

It's the moment we have all been waiting for. Wait no more my friends because THE REAL WORLD CHALLENGE IS BACK! With this and The Bachelor in my life, it gives me three less hours a week I have to think about, you know, like real shit. Whenever a drunk twenty something cries about Ben on Monday night, all the world's problems fade away. Apartheid? Abject Poverty? AIDs babies? Who gives a shit when BRITTNI IS LEAVING FOR ALL THE RIGHT REASONS YOU GUYS. So thank you MTV, for bringing my baby back. I have done zero initial research leading into the season so let's pour a cocktail and break down the teams, shall we?

- Dunbar & Paula: Inside the cavity where Paula's heart once beat, now lies a tipped over bottle of Xanax and box of Merlot. They have both done some amateur porn, as a simple google image search alerts me. Expect lots of blurred out body parts and running mascara from this team.

- CT & Diem: Whatever could be said, has been said. Devour of souls. Eater of faces. Diem isn't bad too look at. I might be making this up, but I think CT cheated on her while she was recovering from cancer. Have you ever seen him and Newt Gingrich in the same room?

- Aneesa & Rachel: Ah yes. Our first gay couple. Which reminds me, I could not be a bigger fan of The Real L World. I haven't seen such graphic scissoring since I attended that scrapbook convention in Columbus, Ohio back in '06.

- Ty & Emily: Let's just say this coupling is in the bottom half of Challenge sex tapes I would watch. I WOULD WATCH IT. But I wouldn't enjoy myself...much.

- Wes & Mandi: For all the good Ct brings the world there is his counter measure Wes. If you took every hated Duke basketball player from the last twenty-five years and formed one super roided up ginger, you would get Wes. Mandi almost certainly was allowed to take the SATs untimed.

- Johnny & Camila: Bananas is the savvy veteran of these challenges. The Steve Nash if you will. No matter the supporting cast he will put up decent numbers and be there in the end. I have no opinion on Camila. She seems liek the kind of girl I would say, "Who?" to as she got a rose on The Bachelor.

- Abram & Cara Maria: Abram once got arrested, proceeded to shit in his own hand, and throw it against a wall. Cara Maria wears more feathers in her hair than Running Bull and cries if you bring up her dead horse. Set your murder-suicide alert code to ORANGE.

- Mark & Robin: Mark is no younger than 46. Robin is that gravelly voiced drunk woman at the end of every dive bar whose hair is a mess and keeps saying things like, "O, don't worry, I'M FINE." to herself a little too loudly.

-Dustin & Heather: I've seen WAY too many of these male cast members...member son the internet. Dustin was the gung-ho anti-gay cast member who just so happened to have a gay porn past. Heather's face is a little too round. That is literally the most interesting thing about her.

- Tyrie & Jasmine: Wait, I thought the Ty up top was this Tyrie? O, that is a different black Ty. I think on the last challenge Jasmine broke a bunch of lamps while screaming about how hard she was for being from Houston? Glad they are here.

- Leroy & Naomi: Yes! Leroy was my favorite cast member of the last decade. Just a regular dude. He's a garbage man! He almost certainly has a Pringle can in his pants. Naomi always makes a face like someone smeared a shit finger just above her upper lip. If this challenge does not result in a Leroy & CT spin-off reality show, than the terrorists have won.

- Nate & Priscilla: We are getting to the taking creative license with the "exes" title portion of the show. I'm pretty sure they drunkenly made out once or twice. Nate is the fat faced drunk who claims to be a genius nuclear engineer. He's AWFUL. Priscilla was that awful cast member who wasn't 21 so could not go out partying but clearly had super loose morals. Her mom was her best friend and about 12 years older than her. Those relationships are always super healthy.

- Vinny & Sarah: I don't know anything about Vinny and vaguely remember Sarah.

See everyone at 10.

CT & Leroy 2012: We Did It!

Bachelor Party: Episode 4, Liveblog!

2012-01-23T19:35:00.003-05:00

No way this ends up well. I'm currently drinking Rum and Cokes at the Jersey Shore in preparation for my first ever liveblog. Anytime I drink rum now I get Vietnam-esque flashbacks to Sophomore year of college when my friends and I inexplicably went through a cheap rum phase. I guess college really is for experimenting. We would drink this awful stuff called Castillo Gold out of plastic handles that stained EVERYTHING. I would wake up just covered in rum. That sentence would have needed A LOT more explaining with just one different letter. Here is tonight's agenda:

I signed up for coveritlive.com which is a free site that allows you to liveblog events and people following along can comment and become part of the discussion. My hope is a few people stop by and keep things interesting from 8-10. The reality is it will end up just being me all by myself being a little too drunk for a Monday watching a dating reality show. Whatever. I HAVE A MASTER'S DEGREE MOM. STOP JUDGING ME! My mom has started pulling a new mom move that is really quite genius. She now sends me short texts whenever someone I grew up with has their engagement announcement in the local newspaper. I GET IT MOM. You are still trying to pretend your "baby" isn't going to die alone in an alley somewhere. I figure I have to just keep my shit semi together until both my parents die and then I can become the vagrant I've always dreamed of. My mother's disappointment is the one thing keeping me from walking the streets in sweat shorts and a fanny pack eating fried chicken just discarding the bones wherever I see fit. And isn't that what all moms should hope for? That their passive aggressive love keeps their children from being complete derelicts until they are six feet under? So thank you mom. Jut know I'm going to your funeral in sweatpants and a tuxedo shirt AND THERE ISN'T SHIT YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT (assuming dad is already dead of course). See you guys (no one) in a few.

Bachelor Party: Episode 4 Liveblog

Bachelor Party: Episode 3 Diary

2012-01-19T17:33:00.005-05:00

Welcome back to the Buffet's weekly Bachelor Recap where I drink gin alone and watch a pirated version - screw you SOPA - of this week's show. Join me, won't you? Drinking rules are as follows:

1) During any water themed make-out session you have to funnel a tequila sunrise through a snorkel.

2) Every time Ben mentions his dead dad you have to do PCP and then bum a ride from a friend to bring your dead grandma's third favorite flowers to her grave site.

3) Every time a girl mentions how she is falling in love with Ben, you must stick a q-tip that has been soaking in moonshine in your left nostril for forty-five seconds.

4) Anytime Ben mentions the wine business you have to take the plastic bladder out of a box of wine, tape it to your abdomen, insert a super straw into the opening, and then walk to a 7-11 for taquitos.

5) Whenever Ben wears a vest or denim shorts you have to put alligator clips on both nipples and listen to Annie Lennox's "Walking on Broken Glass" until he changes.

6) Every time Courtney is mentioned as a model, reenact the mangina scene from Silence of the Lambs.

Let's go!

When we last left aquatic make-out specialist Ben, we were in his HOMETOWN of Sonoma which is only his HOMETOWN when we are not in his HOMETOWN of San Francisco like we will be this week. Tune in next week when we are in his HOMETOWN of Port St. Lucie because he once tongue kissed a stripper on a jet ski whilst on Spring Break there thirteen years ago. Let's go!

:00 "Tonight, on The Bachelor..." GAHHHH! I forgot all about this awful episode overview they lead with. In lieu of actually watching it, here are my predictions for this week's episode:

Blakeley spends the entire weekend drinking wine out of the bottom half of a human skull daring anyone to bring it up.

Courtney does an interview while wearing a necklace made out of the ears of recently rejected Jenna the blogger

After spending a week in Haiti learning authentic Voodoo, Jenna the blogger brought Ben's dead back from the grave and shows up unannounced to this week's house with his zombie body. Just as Ben is about to reconnect with his dead as shit dad, Jenna stabs him to death (again) while screaming, "YOU COULD HAVE HAD US BOTH FOREVER! YOU COULD HAVE HAD US BOTH FOREVER!"

Brittney is left behind during a group date and accidentally dry-walled over.

Since Ben actually knows nothing about ninety percent of these women, he gives the bulk of them Sam Goody gift cards instead of roses at the elimination ceremony. If being in love means never having to say you're sorry, giving someone a gift cards means never having to attend their funeral.

Kacie B. gets really drunk and drops an "N" bomb.

Lindzi gets really drunk and calls her mom to blame her for her high school abortion on the fact that she named her "Lindzi".

:02 - "So we are going to San Francisco and I feel the only way to experience it is with Ben." - Nicki. Holy Shit. I can't believe I waited until Thursday to watch this. What a start. It's just...I mean... what?! What better way to experience a new place than with some denim wearing stranger and fourteen other girls. I need another drink already.

:02 - HOMETOWN HOMETOWN HOMETOWN. No one has ever given more of a shit about places they have lived than this guy. I lived in a senior citizen community outside Hartford, Connecticut for nine months once. No, that past sentence is 100% true. It had NOTHING to do with me. They had nice, clean, and quiet apartments near where I was working for ESPN. I made friends with a guy who I would feed squirrels with while he claimed to have invented Pee-wee football. I NEED MY FUTURE WIFE TO RESPECT THIS PART OF MY LIFE.

:03 - "All these woman are professional and independent." -Ben or how every escort site I have ever visited described their hookers. Courtney! She's a model!

/puts on skin coat

:04 - Ben and his sister look enough alike that I hope they reverse Ladybug this, give her his shitty haircut, and see how many girls can see themselves falling in love (read: scissoring) with her.

:06 - And Emily (who?) gets the date card! Better yet, Ben wrote, "Love lifts us up." on the card. Not that I ever needed an excuse to put this video here:

Thanks for ruining this song for me Benjamin. In other news, I've decided if I ever trick someone into marrying me, this is the song I am going to dance with my mother to. WHAT UP IN-LAWS?!

:07 - "Book smart can be a little boring." -Courtney, Model/DESTROYER OF EARTHS. I would pay $77.50 to watch Courtney attempt a Sudoku puzzle.

:08 - Oh man. I don't even know how to describe the last 13 seconds. Ben and Emily were for some reason JOGGING towards each other for a hug when they both inexplicably starting skipping when they got a few feet away. I was so entranced by it that I just spent twenty fruitless minutes searching online for a way to capture the video from my laptop screen to post here. That was how good it was. Apparently they are going to climb the Bay Bridge. Emily just told the audience how she would rather do ANYTHING than this. Here is a thought Emily, tell Ben that and maybe he could come up with an alternative. AN AQUATIC ALTERNATIVE.

:10 - Breaking news: This bridge climb is boring as shit and everyone has too many clothes on. Way to know your audience ABC.

:11 - "Talk to me Goose." -Ben

Here it is guys. The first ever F Bomb on the Buffet. Fuck you, Ben.

:12 - So Emily was just panicking on this bridge because, shit, she is on national television trying to fall in love with a guy who is making out with chicks near any running faucet. Ben's response? "So I did the only thing I can think of. I give her a kiss." PHEW. With just one kiss Emily is no longer the desperate PHD student 200 feet in the air with a floppy haired stranger. NO. She is back in 7th grade. Writing 'Emily and Chase 4ever' in her middle school notebook while listening to Leann Rimes. No mom! You can't come in Emily's room right now! She is on her own phone line with Becca because Becca was just told by Sandi that Lindzi heard through Jenna that Chase told Emma he might have a crush on Emily. SHIT JUST GOT REAL Y'ALL. Ben is the horse whisperer for insecure 20 somethings everywhere.

:14 - "This is hands down the scariest moment of my life besides that time I unsuccessfully talked MY NOW DEAD father down from the Golden Gate Bridge. I can still hear the 'SPLAT'"

:15 - If "exploring the relationship" is not code for anal, then Martin Luther King Jr. died for nothing.

:17 - Date recap: Emily isn't unattractive. She was not super awkward and came across as shockingly normal. She will not make the cut.

:18 - I wasn't really paying attention (read: drinking) and they just announced the group date list. For the record, Ben's cryptic messages on these date cards are atrocious. "Let's cross something off our 'leap list'"? What? I once dunked on an eight foot basketball hoop. Does that count? One girl who I don't know just said her leap list included running with bulls, swimming with sharks, and making out on national television with a poor man's and emotionally corrupt version of Rafael Nadal.

:19 - Emily gets a rose! Ben mentions his dad! It's the NFL Playoffs on CBS!

:20 - Not gonna lie. This fireworks make-out session is kinda BAWSY. Closest I've come to this was sneaking out of a sweet 16 hammered with a really unattractive girl on some dock, and making out with her while swearing her to secrecy. WHERE ARE MY VIOLINS?!

:22 - Ben tells the group date that they are going snow skiing. Isn't that just...skiing? In other news I just performed... hand masturbation!

:23 - Bird face just made her first real appearance and I was re-baffled by the fact she is still alive without even so much as making out with Ben near a washer-dryer.

:24 - Oh god. Ben just mentioned his leap list again. It seems that it is just his form of a a bucket list. Why does he need a different term? Who do you think you are Ben? I bet he has a different leap list for every hometown. I hope you're father died before he ever DRAFTED his leap list Ben.

:26 - The lack of Courtney and Blakeley acting as the Legion of Doom this week is unacceptable.

:28 - Brittney gets a date! Lindzi is HEATED. She is much more attractive than Brittney. Of course you didn't see this coming Brittney. YOU ARE AWFUL. You bring so little to the table it's like you are that awkward house guest who brings O'Douls to a New Year's Party. Thanks, Brittney.

:29 - Ben is wearing a vest. "Walkin on glass...walking on GLLLASSSS."

:30 - Rachel just called Ben "so funny". Huh? Hey Ben, I'm the one who only gets sympathy ass as the funny guy. Get off my demographic.

:31 - I might be getting emotionally attached to Kacie B. Either that or I just got a whiff of my own feet is the reason I'm sniffling. The latter: you've won.

:32 - Hey Brittney, it disgusts me to watch you try to take the moral high ground on not wanting to be here. YOU ARE HERE. You signed up for this. You lost all "this isn't for me" privileges when you submitted a video to be on this show, got accepted, AND THEN CAME. Die. Die alone. Before you do, here is a crate and barrel gift card.

:33 - Follow your heart Brittney. It's actually just a re-run of Frasier on basic cable at 9:00 PM. I hate you.

:35 - JUST LEAVE BRITTNEY. I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN. NO! STOP RESPECTING HER OTHER GIRLS. SHE IS JUST AS VAPID AND AWFUL AS THE REST OF YOU. I AWARD YOU NO POINTS.

:39 - This is the perfect analysis of the acumen of these women. A few minutes ago Lindzi was livid that dry-wall Brittney got the one-on-one date. Once Brittney decided to leave, Lindzi got the one-on-one date and immediately forgot that Ben didn't know she was alive. She went as far as to say. "I love last minute dates!" This is everything that is wrong with the world.

:40 - "Lindzi is gonna get a huge taste of San Francisco"- Ben and my overworked libido.

:41 - How are you gonna ask someone if they are a fan of ice cream? It's America. Stop calling this your hometown Ben. We have been here before. I'm so excited for the Blakeley and Courtney sections of this episode that I'm giddy.

:42 - Am I supposed to know who this asshole guitarist is? He makes Train sound like Metallica. The lyrics just were "You taste like...sunlight." That doesn't sound attractive. I imagine sunlight tastes like an octogenarian who fell asleep on the beach in Fort Lauderdale. His thin beard and leather jacket combo is so internationally important I need others to know about it.

:43 - Ben is expanding his wheelhouse for make-outs. Water, fireworks, live bands, BEN DON'T CARE.

:45 - We need to outlaw the use of the word speakeasy in 2012. Alcohol is legal. If speakeasy is acceptable than Kacie B. should be allowed to call African Americans "colored folk".

:46 - Whaddya know?! Lindzi was dumped via text from the one other man she ever loved! I need to make a Google alert for emotionally damaged women.

:50 - Anytime you intro with the girls cheers-ing a "drama free night" shit is about go down.

:51 - I can't even be bothered to remember this woman's name, but I know they made out in the hot tub and then she cried. I wanna say Jamie? She is putting herself out there and is undoubtedly going to get crushed emotionally.

:52 - Her name is Jennifer! O, her fall from grace is going to be devastating.

:53 - O shit. They are apparently bringing in a new girl from a past Bachelor season. Blakeley, GO!

:54 - Should I know who Shawntel is that just arrived? Am I gonna have to re-watch past seasons and quit my job?

:55 - Ahhh, there is the Courtney I've been waiting for. She was just such a bitch but in such an indescribable way that it was perfect.

:57 - "Wow, your hands are cold Ben. Is that because once we kissed I forever trapped you in the underworld until my mother Demeter can free you from this spell." - Courtney

:58 - "Roof top make-out WITH A MODEL. Check that off the leap list." -Ben, the worst person ever.

1:02 - I don't know who Shawntel is but the panic she is causing in the other girls is well worth her price of admission. Keep in mind the price of admission for this show is never being able to hold a management position at a Fortune 500,000 Company.

1:05 - O man. Bird face and Co. is LIVID at this new development. It's so good. What makes it even better is that the other girls' arguments boil down to knowing what season she was on and what guy she went after. YOU DON'T BELONG HERE BECAUSE I WATCHED YOU TRY TO MAKE OUT WITH THIS OTHER GUY ON MY TV! All these other girls projections of how they are here for better reasons is remarkable. This level of blind idealism that 'my' ideals are better than 'yours' was everything The Holocaust was powered by.

1:08 - I respect the fact that bird faced Jacyln has taken a leadership role in this fight without spending ANY alone time with Ben. Keep in mind she is an advertising accountant from Newton, Massachusetts. That is like me being an advertising executive in Seaside Heights because I get drunk while wearing a Jenk's Pavilion t-shirt.

1:11 - ROSE CEREMONY! My predictions:

Brittney, who left on her own power, is brought back just so I can kick her in the throat
Bird face is finally going home
I honestly don't even know the names of enough of these girls to predict who else would be gone.
If that is the case, I'm gonna assume it is either Jennifer the water kisser or Lindzi the date rapier, or Nicki the girl who had 13 seconds of face time.
There is no way he gets rid of Blakeley just because of the repercussions of such a move.

1:12 - Courtney got the first rose and said he made a "heady move". So confused.

1:13 - Kacie B.! She is my favorite which can only mean bad things for her in the future.

1:13 - Elyse got a rose. No idea who she is. Perfect

1:14 - Jamie and Jennifer got roses and they might as well have been Abbott and Costello because neither got on first. ZING! (Holy shit I am really proud of that joke.)

1:14 - Blakeley gets a rose by force of nature. Nickie the hygienist was just shown crying. She is screwed.

1:15 - Monica! My legit first hearing of her name. Then Nicki. I respect that because Nicki is attractive and so unstable she could be penetrated in any body of water or land bridge. Samantha gets one too. She is new. Bird face just threw up in her mouth. Awesome.

1:16 - God, Jaclyn is so unattractive and unworthy of a rose it is a joke. AH! Erika just passed out from being so scared of not being picked. And you wonder why every fifth movie involves aliens taking over Earth.

1:17 - If I am Ben I guess I take Shawntel because the other girls are either hideous (Jaclyn) or just fainted (Erika). I don't know Shawntel, but I can gather they had a past relationship somehow. Let's keep her around just because of how much the other girls feel threatened by her.

1:18 - Shut up, Ben. You know you are gonna go with Shawntel. These other two chicks are putrid. Stop holding us up.

1:19 - WHOA! He's not handing out the rose! What does that mean!? All 3 leave? This is the first time I have respected Ben all season.

1:20 - Seeing Erika near unconscious being plied with wine made me realize not being a fly on the wall sucks.

1:21 - Bird face is dead, long live bird face.

1:22 - We are going to Utah next week, which, thank the non-existent Lord Ben did not call his home town.

1:23 - "Next week on The Bachelor..." I'm not gonna actually watch so you are gonna have to wait and see with me.

Mr. R

We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Programming...

2012-01-19T17:01:00.004-05:00

Oh, hey. My episode 2 recap of The Bachelor was one of the best received posts in Buffet history. My plan going forward was to have weekly recaps up on Tuesdays, or even figure out a way to truly live blog it with people following right along. The problem I ran into this week, like most of you, was how savagely hungover I was after a long MLK weekend. What's that? Most of you didn't drink all day Monday in sweatpants at dive bars with 60 year old union workers? Try not to get a nose bleed up in your ivory towers.

I was good until Sunday when I attended a party for the Giants game at my cousin's apartment. A handle of Jack Daniels later I woke up sideways in bed with no cell phone. I used the handy "Find my iPhone" app to locate my phone not in the back alley behind a strip club like I would have thought, but still at my cousin's place. I drove over there to retrieve it and was told about the adventure that was getting me home. Apparently I got in the car and immediately passed out. When I was jostled awake I lacked the ability to tell anyone in the car where I lived so they drove around my neighborhood until they saw a door with a cross on it next to a church and figured that was where I lived. I woke up with a note on my door from the rectory lady essentially asking if I was still alive after being walked to my room last night.

Filled with anxiety over seeing the rectory lady and a soul crushing hangover waiting to crescendo, I decided my best course of action was to go straight to the bar at 11:30 am. What transpired was hours of sleazy bar drinking and friend making with some AARP card carrying blue-collar riff raff. While the majority of my friends would fall into the finance a-hole category, I most certainly get along best with the "shot and a beer" blue collar contingent. This crew I integrated myself into was incredible. It was five guys in their late 50s or early 60s with hard Jersey accents. The best part was that one of their buddies showed up apparently just starting a juice diet and wasn't drinking. This was more baffling to these guys than Einstein's Theory of Relativity.

"So lemme get this straight. Yoose is just drinkin' water and jooce for 5 fackin' days? O, lemme get yoose a side of celery!" Followed by uproarious laughter. This is how it went for three hours. One of us would make an off hand comment about this juice guys manhood, laugh and slap the beer, and order another beer. It was glorious.

What was not so glorious was then moving to a second bar where things get rather hazy. I woke up in such a hungover panic that I may or may not have taken my first sick day in 4 years. I've led enough of a comedy of errors life in my twenty-six years to realize there is no God, but this hangover made me question my own humanity at the molecular level. Why would we ever evolve to a point where a person could feel as awful as I did? We are talking a sleeping with the lights on and uncontrollable night sweats for 48 hours hangover. Things reached rock bottom last night when I was sitting in my grandfather's beach house alone trying to figure out dinner. I didn't have any solid food on Tuesday and could have had a sensible meal last night to pretend I had been dieting. But I didn't deserve a decent meal. I needed to further punish myself for my weekend sins before starting over again. Facing few delivery options since I was in a ghost town, I resorted to Domino's. You have not reached the end of your rope until you have found yourself with two internet tabs open; one tracking your Domino's delivery order and the other ending in 'tube' but not starting in 'you'.

This was a long way of quasi apologizing for the delayed Bachelor recap I'm about to start. I am still debating whether I am well enough yet to have a drink while I write it or to brave The Bachelor sober. Ah, who the hell am I kidding? Let me get some gin in me and I'll be back in ninety minutes with your recap.

Mr. R

Awkward Celebrity Birthday Cards: January 14th

2012-01-14T12:17:00.006-05:00

Editor's Note: In an effort to write more, I'm looking to start a few daily features. Here is the first one in which I pick a celebrity whose birthday it is and write them an awkward card. Today we have LL Cool J. Feedback is appreciated.

Happy Birthday LL! I can't believe you're forty-four years old. HGH really is a miracle drug. Sorry, where are my manners. It's me, Mr. R. You probably don't even know this, but you have been a major influence in my life for close to twenty years. I have always tried to live by what I call the Triple L's: Laws of LL. They are quite simple:

1) Buy Kangol Hat
2) Lick Lips
(Sidenote: You can be honest with me LL. Are you employed by a chap stick conglomerate? Ever since I started licking my lips like you in the early 90's, I've dealt with some serious lip chapping. Now I have to keep chapsticks strategically placed in all the locations I frequent just in case I forget. That's some savvy subliminal marketing LL.)

3) Remove shirt.

Some might question the effectiveness of these laws when I have been expelled from 2 high schools, have not kissed a girl on the mouth since 1998, and cannot go within 100 feet of any playground, but who are they going to run to during the great Kangol shortage of 2036? That's right LL.

I've also adopted the term LL for one of my other favorite things; Late night Lasagna. Nothing puts Mr. R to bed quicker than some midnight lasagna. And, just between you and me, when the microwave gets down to around 15 seconds, I like to whisper to myself "Doin' it and doin' it and doin' it well..." as I watch that delicious pile of lasagna rotate.

Speaking of your hit single "Doin' it", and I hope this isn't too much, but the release of that video coincided with my first 'release' as a pubescent boy. But that song/video was more than just a God send to depraved twelve year old boys worldwide. I saw it as a message about the struggles of a long distance relationship between Brooklyn and Queens. It was more than just the physical distance keeping you apart, but the cultural distance between the two boroughs. I hope you guys worked it out and are still going strong.

When I moved onto college I did what any LL enthusiast would do and settled on being a Women's Studies major. For my senior thesis I discussed how "Mama Said Knock You Out" was actually a commentary on the Suffragist Movement at the turn of the 20th Century. My professor called it, "The most ill conceived premise ever committed to paper." and I never graduated, but now I'm the assistant night manager at a local Target. I'm not sure what Dr. Johannson is doing. She wasn't even a real doctor LL! I tried to get her to prescribe me Viagra and Xanax the first week of class and she said she didn't have that ability. What a quack.

So LL, to summarize. Happy Birthday. May your hat forever be like a shark's fin. I Love You.

Mr. R

Live from Detention: It's Watch Cleaning Time!

2012-01-12T14:37:00.002-05:00

Has this week been agonizingly long for anyone else? It's after tough Thursdays like today we all have to be reminded to take some time and TREAT. YO. SELF.

With that in mind, I'm going to go spend the evening in an empty beach house with a full bar and catch up on grading over some cocktails. "It's the best day of the year!" I think I am really onto something with this skipping dinner and just having a few cocktails before bed thing. I slept like a Heath Ledger last night and woke up feeling rather svelte. I did have some very odd dreams though. In one dream a female acquaintance of mine was employed as a person who scaled the George Washington Bridge everyday to teach the Asian families who live on the top of it English. What a noble career choice. I can see Freud's head exploding. The other dream was quite awesome. I was playing a pick up basketball game and all of a sudden had savage dunking ability. I could take one step and just slam it. Everyone was amazed. The only problem was it felt so real that I woke up and had an entire two minute stretch where I was convinced I could dunk in real life. It was really a let down when my brain fully woke up and I realized I was still just some chunky white dude.

The detention pickings are rather slim today. I've got two kids who didn't do their homework and a third girl who apparently said, "That's some bulllllllshit." to her teacher. Standard stuff. The real loser in detention is me because I can't spend this time like I normally do just making up for a whole day's worth of held in farts and unpicked boogers. I'm full of fiber and coffee and want nothing more than to just echo farts around an empty classroom. It doesn't seem fair that because Johnny was too lazy to do his homework I can't get knuckle deep in a nostril and fart in my OWN classroom. This is not the America Thomas Jefferson envisioned. Granted his vision of America was one filled with slave rape and Gingers ruling the world, but still.

More important than my need to fart, tomorrow marks the beginning of my basketball squad's quest to repeat as recreation league champs. The team was not looking very good at the start of the year, but with my usual super shady public school kid recruiting methods, I now have a solid 8 man rotation and we should be the team to beat again. I have one kid who is somehow the hoodest kid I have ever coached, and that is really saying something. I have zero idea what his real full name is because he just got by this ridiculous nickname at all times. The other day before practice he texted me the following:

"Yo coach, itz (silly nickname). I cant cum 2 practice 2day cuz I got hit wit a brick. My boy was wilin' out and threw a brick at me and hit me in my knee."

Brick fights? Really? The closest I ever came to that growing up was the neighborhood acorn fights we would have. God I'm white. He texts me from a different number everyday asking about practice or games so I never know who it is until about the 3rd text when he will drop "O dis be (silly nickname)". Two weeks ago he showed up for a game in the third quarter and I'm 87 percent sure he was high as shit. He just looked at me with bloodshot eyes, smirked, and I sent him to the end of the bench. The problem is that HE IS SO GOD DAMN FAST. He is my best defender and toughest kid. I need him no matter how stoned - or maybe bricked would be a more fitting term - he is. Not sure how you address a 13 year old being really high since that would be outing myself as being familiar with what marijuana smells like. "I swear, it's only because I went to a Dave Matthews Band concert and all of a sudden I couldn't stop eating nachos during an extended version of 'Satellite'!"

I'm sorry to report that I don't have much by way of ridiculous classroom anecdotes. It's a frightening thought, but maybe I'm becoming a decent real life adult teacher?
/re-reads last nights gin soaked The Bachelor recap.

Nahhhhhh.

There was a pretty good moment just yesterday. About everyday I end up challenging a student - normally a girl - to a fight outside by the bike racks at 2:30. I don't really have an explanation as to why this happens all the time, but it has just kind of morphed into a running gag between my students and I. On Tuesday, a 7th grader came in and immediately blurted out, "Mr. R, don't you know your clock is wrong?" I countered with, "O yea, you better watch it or I'll clean YOUR clock. Bike rack. 2:30." It was abundantly clear none of my kids had heard of this expression before. I then took a ten minute detour to try and explain what the expression meant and where it came from before realizing I didn't really know the answers myself. After some intense research (read: googling "clean your clock origin") I came across a word reference forum with an explanation. In other news, I'm now a person who has read a thread on a word reference forum. I felt dirty enough before realizing there were other people who were actually COMMENTERS on such a web site. What personal horrors must someone experience to reach a place where they are an active community member on a word reference forum? It's unimaginable. I went through the explanation and moved on.

The next morning, same class comes in and we are having a discussion where I'm purposely being a jerk devil's advocate to get them to debate. A girl, trying to make her best tough guy face, raised her fist and slowly said, "Mr. R, I will CLEAN. YO. WATCH!" I couldn't even attempt to hold in my laughter as she covered her hands with her face.

Alright, I'm outta here. May your watches be forever filthy.

Mr. R

The Bachelor "Live" Blog: Episode 2

2012-01-11T20:51:00.003-05:00

Humans. Your fearless (lonely) leader has returned. Last week, since I hate myself, I decided it was a good idea to watch this season of The Bachelor. What transpired was a magical 90 minutes or so where I had to mute my computer no less than two times to minimize the awkwardness that was in front of me. I was hooked. It really takes a lot for something or someone to make me feel better about my existence, and I've found it in these women. So thank you, all you already a little bit dead on the inside twenty-somethings who go on shows like this. You've made my hilariously fleeting time (Over/Under on my death is 2037) on this planet temporarily better. Before we get into it, some ground rules:

1) Any misguided soul with a computer can recap a TV show as it's actually happening. If you are a long-time reader of the Buffet you know keeping a tight schedule is not my forte. The only thing kept tight around here are the thigh sections of my khakis. So I figured it would be apropos to download - legally of course - Monday's episode of The Bachelor and watch it now with a few cocktails. "Cocktails? Aren't you on a diet Mr. R?", said a person I just made up who gives a shit about me. Well, I ran around at basketball practice and was too lazy to go to the gym, so I skipped dinner and am now drinking gin and DIET cranberry juice. Healthy living! For the record, I did not purchase said diet cranberry juice. My grandfather, being infinitely cooler than am I, decided on a whim to go to Jamaica with my 20 year old cousin for Spring Break. I'm not saying I hope he comes back with a scorching sexually transmitted disease, but don't hate the player. Therefore, I've escaped the rectory for the last few days to stay at his place and have to replace a considerable amount of booze tomorrow. Gin, vodka, Jameson, if anything I'm an equal opportunity alcoholic.

2) All times listed are minutes into episode.

3) The drinking rules for any The Bachelor viewing are as follows:

- Drink anytime someone cries, makes out, or calls another one of the girls "fake" or a "bitch".

- Mainline black tar heroin and let an octogenarian watch you masturbate in a dive bar bathroom for 15 dollars ((Note: the fact that he has to give you a ten AND a five makes it so much worse. Or even better, him giving you a twenty and you giving him change.) anytime a girl mentions that "she can see herself falling in love with him."

ONWARD!

:00 - Tonight, on The Bachelor...
Wait, they don't do a "Previously on..."? What is this, Nam? I was a little drunk during my last viewing and need to be reminded of what happened. Why would I need to know what is happening tonight AS I AM ABOUT TO WATCH THE SHOW. This seems appropriate:

I'm just going to come out and say it: This dude is not that attractive.

From what I gather, he was picked solely because his proposal on The Bachelorette was rejected. If unrequited love is the main thing ABC is looking for in a Bachelor, then I should have been picked years ago. I lead the league in liking women who want nothing to do with me. Here is how me telling a girl I have feelings for her generally works out:

Me: Hey, I know we've been friends for a while because I'm a spineless moron who figured the best way to gain your interest was to not do anything but become the male friend you talk about the other men in your life to, but I was hoping maybe we could go out some time.

Her: Hold on a minute (dials phone number). Hi. Is this Dr. Smith's office? Yea, I just realized I've been really neglecting my colon and would like to schedule a colonoscopy for every Friday for the next 6 months. Great. Thanks. What were you saying?

Call me ABC!

:01 - STOP! Why are you showing me who Ben is going to make out with in the episode I'm about to watch!? This show must be produced by the same people who do the Maury Povich show. For some reason, Maury shows you audience and guest paternity test reactions going into commercial breaks. I don't want to see that dude running around because now I know he is not the father. Why are you people doing this to me?!

:01 - Make out, someone called fake, and a bleep. I'm going to black out.

:02 - Once again, this dude is a 6 at best. He looks like Rafael Nadal with a hint of Downs Syndrome.

:03 - Jesus. Are we going to whine about your dead dad all season Ben? LET THE MAN REST. He's DEAD. Stop wondering what he would say to you now if he was here. He would tell you he is ashamed of how tight your shirts are and that you are dating women on national TV.

:04 - Kacie B. gets the first date card! She's not unattractive. She's also a 24 year old secretary from Tennessee who undoubtedly refers to the Civil War as the "War of Northern Aggression". God I hope she calls African Americans "the blacks" at some point during this date.

:05 - Ugh. "This could be the first date with the man I hope to marry." Heroin. All of it.

:06 - This whole concept of wanting the girls to get familiar with his hometown is ridiculous. NO ONE wants to stay in their hometown. When I go back to my parents and have to go anywhere I pray to a non-existent God that I don't run into anyone I know. It would be funny to show a girl around my hometown and point things out like, "I once vomited behind that KFC and then tried to make out with a married woman."

:08: Kacie B's big reveal: She was a baton twirler. I can't even explain the last 30 seconds. Is this real? So much hand holding and baton twirling.

:09 - You are full of shit Kacie. You don't love Sonoma. This place is nothing like your hometown in Tennessee. No one has ever been raped inside a Piggly Wiggly in Sonoma.

:10 - Going to have to add a drinking rule about Ben talking about his dead dad. It could be worse Ben. Your dad could still be alive and consistently getting inappropriately drunk at family events like mine.

:12 - Blakeley is one of those people who can't fully close her mouth without a considerable effort. And she's a 34 year old VIP cocktail waitress from Charlotte. What does that mean? She's a stripper right? Can we just all agree she's a stripper and move on.

:13 - Just noticed Corky Nadal is wearing a vest. People who wear vests are the same people who wear fedoras. In other words, they are worse than war criminals. There isn't anyone in the world who has worn a fedora in public who did not go on to murder someone or at the very least tell a really long story with an underwhelming punchline.

:15 - They ended up in a movie theatre with professionally edited home videos. What do you know! Ben's dad stole the show. For a dead guy, this son of a bitch is really dominating the airwaves.

:18 - EMOTIONAL SIDEWALK MAKE OUT SESSION. "I think that I have found what could be a lifetime of love with Ben." - Kacie B in episode 2.

"I can't believe I let that asshole go under the shirt over the bra and he eliminated me." -Kacie B episode 7.

:20 - Hmmm, is that a new scent Blakeley? Desperation by Beyonce perhaps?

:20 - Nicki the dental hygienist will not survive the weekend. She's traumatically mediocre looking.

:21 - Why are their children involved in this? Who OK'd this? Where are their parents? Once again, this:

:22 - Holy shit, I had to turn off the volume. These kids are about the age of my students. I can only imagine the things they would try to make these women do.

"Um, can you do the stanky leg?"
"Get low for me please?"
"If I'm wearing polo boots, and so are you, who is bawsier?"

:25 - Oh Courtney is going to be a problem. YES! She's such a bitch. It's truly wonderful. She's a model so I'm setting the over/under for minutes before another contestant calls her an anorexic bitch at 17.

:26 - Jenna is a 27 year old blogger from NYC. So you're saying I should audition for the next The Bachelorette?

:27 - Yelling "Hello Sonoma!" is like the worst Van Halen concert phrase ever.

:28 - So they are putting on a play in front of a bunch of kids and other humans. It's literally the worst thing I've ever seen and I once accidentally watched the Jamie Kennedy Experiment. Which reminds me, one of my students actually said that Malibu's Most Wanted was the funniest movie they had ever seen in class today. I had them sterilized on the spot.

:31 - Recap of the last two minutes. "SONOMA SONOMA SONOMA SONOMA SONOMA SONOMA." Christ Ben. I can't wait to find out your dead dad was actually named Sonoma and for the world to collapse in on itself.

:32 - Need to make a new drink. One more hour to go. I'm probably going to have to take a personal day tomorrow.

:34 - No way Jennifer from Oklahoma isn't immensely disappointed at some juncture tonight. Her and Nicki are 10s...COMBINED! ZING!

:35 - "You seem really down to Earth and everyone likes you." - Ben on Blakeley. Now I know why Ben's proposal failed. He's about as insightful as a fortune cookie.

:37 - Courtney just said "winning" like Charlie Sheen. I hope she gets all the Aids.

:38 - O no! Courtney got the date card and then went with, "How'd that taste coming out of your mouth?" to the girl who read the card. Game changer. Kacie B. is NOT TO BE TRIFLED WITH.

:40 - Tangent: Has there been a black bachelor or bachelorette yet? I'm pretty sure there hasn't. If I was black, not only would I be much cooler but I would be livid that TV has decided Flavor of Love and I Love New York are appropriate avenues for my people to find love. Where is Al Sharpton on this? I don't care about much, but my main goal is for the next bachelor to be black if only for the inevitable cat fights that end with weave everywhere. It's not racist because I've experienced it firsthand in class.

:41 - WHOA! Out of nowhere Jennifer from Oklahoma with a hot tub power move MAKEOUT SESSION! "I could easily be on my way to falling in love with Ben." - Brain dead girl from Oklahoma living in a house with 18 other women.

:42 - Blakeley just mentioned the fact that she is a Scorpio. I love the fact that there are people who actually believe in horoscopes because it makes it so easy to eliminate them from the gene pool. I'd love to go back in time and have the Nazis pin stars on people who believed in their horoscopes instead of Jewish people. Ben is absolutely killing it right now with these aquatic makeout sessions. They just showed some bird faced blonde chick who I had never seen before. No way she survives.

:44 - And Blakeley gets the rose! There is going to be a lot of wine induced crying tonight. CAN'T WAIT (Scott, 2010)!

:45 - On cue, Jennifer from Oklahoma is crying. She thought that hot tub makeout session was her meal ticket. YOU CLEARLY HAVE A FORCEFUL TONGUE JEN.

:47 - I don't know why owning a dog is considered an impressive feat. Relax Ben. You pick up another animals shit and feed it. I'm NOT going to make out with you in a hot tub because of it (or will I?).

:49 - "I wanted to take Courtney on this date to my father's grave so she could watch me openly weep while I scream 'SONOMA!!!!' at the top of my lungs." - Ben quotes I just made up

:50 - Don't worry guys. Ben isn't wearing a vest but he has on some frayed denim shorts.

:51 - "I've just been doing me for a while." -Courtney's way of explaining her recent career in masturbation porn for coke money.

:52 - STOP. IT'S A DOG. IT HAS NO BEARING ON WHETHER OR NOT THIS DUDE WILL BE A GOOD FATHER.

:55 - It's not a mystery Ben. Courtney is still single because her heart is as black as coal. She is going to devour you whole.

:59 - BREAKING NEWS: Ben is wearing a vest again, reports indicate males aged 25-40 want him dead.

:59 - I respect Ben's ability to make out in a variety of settings. Pools, hot tubs, movie theatres, the woods. NO ONE is safe from a spontaneous Ben makeout session.

1:00 - We are an hour in and I still don't know who half these women are. Why are they here? Why don't they just start with a smaller but better (read: boobier) contestant pool? ABC is essentially purposely ruining an extra 5 people's lives every year on this show. That's great hustle.

1:01 - Everyone, meet Lindzi! Apparently she rode a horse last week. She would like you all to know that she is a down home country girl but was apparently savagely molested by a field hand employed by her father and felt the need to come on The Bachelor. Ben gives her butterflies. Ben gives me diarrhea.

1:02 - Where have they been hiding Samantha? She's kinda sorta super sexy. She hates drama and hangs out with the boys. Samantha is also cursing and complaining about Blakeley. One of these things is not like the other.

1:05 - Just realized I had been spelling Blakeley wrong this whole time and had to go back and change every spelling. That's such a Blakeley thing to do to me.

1:06 - Bird face is apparently named Jaclyn. No way she survives. They also just introduced some broad Brittney for the first time. She's gone.

1:07 - Blakeley is on fire. She already has a rose but is determined to sabotage everyone other girl's alone time with Ben. She's like an NFL team who has already clinched a playoff spot throwing their last game to keep a different team out of the playoffs. Savvy.

1:08 - Well, Jenna would have been better served just lighting herself on fire instead of whatever she just said to Ben. For a blogger she is not very good with words.

1:09 - STOP CRYING JENNA. YOU ARE MAKING BLOGGERS LOOK BAD.

1:11 - Bird face just called Blakeley a horse face. Charles Darwin will have a decision momentarily.

1:14 - "Seeing Blakeley curled up in the luggage room reminded me of finding my father dead inside a piece of carry on luggage on a Lufthansa flight to Zurich." - Ben

1:15 - Well, I'm drunk

1:16 - OK, I'm not clear on how many women have to leave SONOMA, but here is the tentative hierarchy of who gets bounced:

Bird face Jaclyn, Brittney the forgettable, Jenna the crying blogger, Jennifer the forceful kisser, Lindzi the country girl who was sexually assaulted (allegedly), Samantha who is just like one of the guys but wears dresses and has lady parts and drinks wine and talks shit about the other girls. ELIMINATION TIME!

1:17 - "I would like to thank you all for coming to Sonoma, which is in fact the city where my dad died. Did you guys know my dad was dead? O, I also own a dog and will be a great father one day because those variables are related." -Ben

1:18 - Forceful tongue kisser Jennifer gets a rose! So does Emily, who I had no idea existed. And some girl named Elyse. Where were they keeping these girls?

1:19 - BIRD FACE GETS A ROSE! This is clearly just Ben's way of telling America looks aren't everything.

1:19 - I must be terrible at watching this because Erica just got a rose and she is new to me as well.

1:19 - "This rose is actually for my dad who, in case you didn't know, is really really dead. SONOMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" - Ben

1:20 - LindZi gets a rose! Ben has no idea who half these women are. It's incredible. Who the hell is Monica? I'm so confused. It might be the gin.

1:20 - FINAL ROSE. We are down to Jenna the batshit insane blogger and Brittney whose yearbook photo said "Not pictured" under it.

1:20 - "Just to be clear, whoever doesn't get this rose must leave SONOMA FOREVER. Only to return once a year on the birthday of my dad, WHO IS DEAD AS YOU SHOULD ALL KNOW BY NOW." - Ben

1:21 - And it's Brittney! If Jenna doesn't end up boiling Ben's dog it will be the biggest upset of the year. The only thing that would make Jenna's exit interview better would be if she started spontaneously dry heaving.

1:23 - ARE YOU SHITTING ME. Next week we go to San Franciso which Ben just called HIS HOMETOWN. What the hell was Sonoma Ben? Why was it so important for the girls to see YOUR HOMETOWN Sonoma if we were just going to go to your HOMETOWN San Francisco next week. Are you a vest wearing poly-hometownist Ben? I will cut you Ben, so help me.

Tune in next week. I'm going to smoke a cigarette in the bathroom and pretend this never happened.

Mr. R

2012: We did it!

2012-01-03T15:18:00.003-05:00

Long hiatus...blah, blah, blah...lazy...blah, blah, blah....apologizes and promises...blah, blah, blah...basketball...grad school...who gives a crap because THE BUFFET IS BACK!

Let's get right into this year's resolutions that I have taken the liberty of breaking down into two categories: Realistic Resolutions and Resolutions Impossible.

Realistic Resolutions:

Ah, 2012. You arrived on the winds like a stale fart in a Quizno's line. I spent this New Year's Eve much like the last one and was asleep before midnight. I'm an adult who has never had a problem finding an excuse to drink. If I want to ring in the New Year, I'll just get hammered on whiskey any random Tuesday and convince myself it's 2013 already. That said, there is something refreshing to the "hitting the reset button" quality of the arrival of each new year, and I hope to take advantage of it in the following reasonable ways (in descending order of potential accomplishment rating [PAR] from 1-10):

1) Stop leaving my bottle of colon cleanse on top of the faculty refrigerator:
PAR: Already accomplished!

Like many other geniuses, I long ago discovered the miracle that is daily fiber intake. Most people take something like Metamucil, but since I'm not on Centrum Silver yet, I've always opted for the GNC Brand Colon Cleanse. Something about the picture of the colon seems so dangerous and risky. In the words of Drew Magary, I MUST HAVE IT.

For some reason, just this morning it dawned on me that others might not enjoy the fact I've just kept it on top of our communal fridge for all to see. I figured with the way all these Filipino women blow up the john it might earn me some brownie points, but they already know how disgusting I am without further visual evidence.

2) Put emails from Monster.com, 1-800-flowers, Rod's Western Palace, Rue La La, etc. in my spam folder:
PAR: Accomplished!

This is how apathetic I am. Every single morning I wake up to the same 6 or 7 emails from the companies mentioned above and a few others. For the record, I have no idea how I got on a Rod's Western Palace mailing list and since I've never opened a single email from them, I can only assume it's a gay cowboy porn site (not that there's anything wrong with that). Instead of taking the extra 1.5 seconds and throwing these in my spam folder, I would just delete them happy to start all over again the next day. WELL NO MORE. I can't remember who signed me up for Rue La La or any of this other bullshit "invite-only discount designer" sites, but I would like to see them water boarded.

3) Stop wishing people a Happy New Year by Friday:
PAR: 9
If I haven't communicated with you in some form by Friday, then that is the cut off for any Happy New Year wishing. In fact, I'll go step a further and allow you to just assume I want NOTHING happy to happen to you in 2012.

4) Diet:
PAR: 6
Yeah, yeah. Me and every other fat idiot on the planet. My weight loss predictions are about as accurate as Rex Ryan's Super Bowl ones. I have the same problem everyone else has in that I want IMMEDIATE results. I will start out all gung-ho January 2nd. "I'm going to the gym TWICE a day! No more booze! I will live off a diet of protein shakes and gusts of wind!" That lasts for the first 3 days and I'm feeling great. Then I step on the scale and when I haven't lost 15-75 pounds already, I am crushed. "Screw this.", said the mildly less fat man. "I might as well just eat what I want if I'm only gonna lose a pound every 4 days." Lather, rinse, repeat.

Another problem for me is that I was actually successful in losing weight a few years ago. I had a bet with a buddy and dropped 45 pounds by June. Honestly, it wasn't that hard since dieting in general is quite easy. "You mean all I have to do is work out a few days a week and not eat Burger King at 4 am?!" My success has given me a false sense of security that now I can just lose weight whenever I want. Hey, I've done it before, it will be just as easy as last time. That results in me putting off diets for months on end with some distant excuse like my cousins baptism is in 4 months so OF COURSE I can't start until after that. Excuses are like assholes: The Pope is Catholic. Wait, that's not right...

5) Avoid the yearly Purging of the Socks:
PAR: 4
I am going on year 5 of living away from home. In every one of those years, there has come a time where I have to take an honest assessment of my matching sock ratio, and just start over again. I now have one giant cardboard box completely filled with non-matching socks. And I'm an equal opportunity sock purger. White, black, blue, brown, dress, athletic. They all fall prey to my desire to never fold socks. Well we are there again. Every single morning I am digging through drawers of single socks hoping to find two that are even remotely similar. If you asked to see my socks at any given moment, there would be a 93.87 percent chance they would not be matched. Well my friends, this will be the last purge! I am starting over again tomorrow and buying 10 pairs of white and black athletic socks and 10 mixed pairs of dress socks. YES WE CAN! YES WE CAN!

6) Post more often:
PAR: 2
Come on, you knew I was going to throw that on there.

Resolutions Impossible:

1) Marry Adele: Many of you might not know this, but I have the voice of an angel. Which is fitting considering I have the body of a cherub. Aside from our vocal talents, Adele and I were both blessed with the thighs of Natrone Means.

Our offspring would come out as fully grown 35 year old Romanian dead-lifter with the voice of an Irish Tenor. Lifting onesie and all.

Me and Adele's son. Age 3

If only for the future of mankind, this needs to happen.

2) Kill Bruno Mars: Is anyone else completely baffled by the current music trend of having falsetto-ing she-men singing rap hooks? Look, I love a good falsetto as much as the next guy (Read: much much more), but I don't need to be listening to a rap song and then hear the man behind such vomit inducing hits as "Grenade", "Marry You", and "Just the Way You Are" on the hook. The fact that he wasn't deported after that track "Billionaire" is a much bigger crime against humanity than anything Idi Amin ever did. Just listen for yourself.

It is because of this song alone that I hope I live forever in abject poverty. And has anyone actually really looked at Bruno Mars? He looks like someone Chaz Bono would keep chained in his/her basement as a sex slave. In fact, that's my 3rd resolution. Convince Chaz Bono to take Bruno Mars as his/her concubine. Obama needs to enact a law that states no one like Bruno Mars can sing a rap hook unless Beyonce, Alicia Keys, Rihanna, Adele, the ghost of Aaliyah, and insert any other female vocalists have all lost their voice at the same time.

Happy New Year everyone

Mr. R

Just Do It

2011-11-15T20:59:00.002-05:00

My near month long blog absences have become as common place as my apologies and promises of frequent posts after said absences. I won't insult your intelligence and claim I will now start posting daily, because it ain't gonna happen. I'm busy as shit. My average day involves a full day of teaching, basketball practice, and a second job at a public school followed by self pleasure and bed. The lack of internet access in the rectory certainly has not helped my blogging, but I would be lying if I said I would have been posting even with internet access.

This also brings up a much sicker first world problem I've been dealing with: watching pornography on my iPhone while the WiFi is down in the rectory. If that sentence was not sad enough, it gets even more depressing when you realize I am on my parent's family plan, so my mom gets notified when I am reaching certain data limits. Nothing says it's a rainy Tuesday like finishing helping yourself to yourself on your phone followed up by a call from your mom saying you have used 50% of your month's data plan in a week. "Must be all the professional emails I've been sending." said the out of breath and unbelievable youngest son. His mother took a deep sigh and made some tea to forget.

There was a point to this post I swear...what was it? Oh yea, stupid school rules. I am sure every school has some archaic rules that make no sense, but my school seems to be especially behind the curve. My thinking is this: As long as the kids are learning and behaved, they can do whatever the hell they want. So here is my list of gripes:

1) Kids must write in cursive:

Really? It's 2011. NO ONE needs to have good hand writing ever again. I administer spelling tests. What, would you say, is the main goal of a spelling test? To spell the words correctly, right? So why should I give a shit if the kid wrote in cursive or not? I have students whose cursive makes chicken scratch look as beautiful as D'Angelo's falsetto. The school would say I shouldn't accept work that isn't in cursive. WHY? It's an absurd policy. If you can spell a word in a manner that makes me not have to squint, go ahead. Just do it.

2) All writing must be in blue or black pen:

My main subject is History. We take a fair amount of notes. Not a day goes by that I'm not inundated with a question like, "Mr. R! Is it ok if I write notes in pink?!" Tell me why I should care about this? If it takes having a girl write her notes in pink for her to be quiet and actually take said notes, why should I be against that? Once again, the goal is for these kids to succeed, so why would I want to limit their ways to do this? Shit, write in pigeon droppings as long as you don't cause a stink and do well on the test. Just do it.

3) No spiral notebooks:

The most absurd of rules. My administration still claims that spiral notebooks are dangerous. Just today, I broke up two fist fights in class. Not my class mind you. They know better than to pull that shit on Mr. R cuz IM A BAWSE. But across the hall. I always hate breaking up fights because by the time it's loud enough for me to realize I need to get involved, the fight is over. I hurry over and I just end up holding back someone who already threw 13 punches. That's no fun. I've written before about how white my brother is. I need to break up as many fights MID fight as possible just to counteract his existence. The best part of the first fight break up was the one kid I was holding back yelling, "You lucky! MY HANDS ARE LICENSED!." Keep in mind this boy was about 5'3 and 120 pounds soaking wet holding a shitzu in shoulder pads.

I can say with confidence both fights had nothing to do with spiral notebooks and would not have been exasperated by their presence in room. It is especially shady when you realize that the school uses this stance to make the kids buy notebooks from them. If I had a nickel for every time I had to stop mid lesson to sell a kid a shitty notebook, I would have well over 10 dollars that I would have spent on a double quarter pounder with cheese meal and a root beer. Related note, root beer is so god damn good. You wanna take notes on a papyrus scroll? Just do it.

Basketball update soon. Have a good weekend. Do it.

Mr. R

The Gun Jammed

2011-10-21T20:04:00.002-04:00

"We don't rebuild, we reload!" is a common cliche in college athletics these days. It describes the ability of schools, especially in basketball, to lose a bulk of their players and replace them with equally talented recruits for the next season. This saying seems to follow John Calipari wherever he goes, along with disputed SAT Scores. There is a whole economy down in Lexington based on Asian high school students taking the SATs for Kentucky players. I don't think they even try to hide it anymore. I would have LOVED to be the SAT proctor who ID'd a small Asian boy whose license said "Demarcus Cousins" on it. It's the simple things in life.

Unfortunately, this particular phrase, DOES NOT apply to this year's basketball squad. I lost 6 members of my 7 man rotation to the rough and tumble world of High School athletics. It's so bad that I found myself lustfully eyeballing kids playing in the park the other day thinking, "God, I hope that kid is 12." SPOILER ALERT: He wasn't. "So that means you walked up to a random kid and asked him his age?" gasped the concerned reader. "Yea...but...still..." whispered the frazzled man in sweatpants and grease stained t shirt as he took a bite off his day old cheese steak after a cautionary sniff test.

Quick fat guy diversion. I went to see the movie 50/50 the other day alone as I am known to do. I'm not sure why, but it is physically impossible for me to go to a movie and NOT gorge myself on popcorn. You really haven't watched a man die until you have had to sit near me in a movie theatre and witness me shoveling handful after handful of popcorn into my gullet. I'm so fat and gross that I get upset when there are quiet previews and I have to tone down the velocity by which I am shoveling buttered corn kernels into my face as to not further offend the horrified masses. During an action preview? Shit. I might as well strap the tub around my neck like a feedbag. I've been known to find popcorn kernels in my clothes days after a movie viewing when I go back to wearing those same clothes again. My re-wearing of outfits days apart without washing in-between is a topic for another post. I will say, if I'm already at the point of going to a 10 pm movie on a Wednesday night in sweats, it should not come as much of a surprise if I dust those sweats off the floor a few days later for another go around. Mr. R: Still Single After All The Years! the audio-cassette coming to your local Sam Goody retailers this Spring!

The silver lining to my team being less talented, is that I have far fewer headaches on the roster. As anyone who watches sports can tell you, the most talented guys are often the most problematic. These kids are so good so young that there are coaches like me letting them break every rule because they NEED them on the court. These kids grow up with terrible habits because people have catered to them since they were 10 years old. I'm not as bad as most AAU coaches and have repeatedly suspended kids for misbehavior and/or low grades in school, but even as an atheist, I have openly prayed to no one in-particular that my star knuckleheads wouldn't do anything really stupid during a week we had playoff games. I give rides everywhere. I buy pizza. For my players at other schools I bargain with Vice Principals and parents after they do something stupid. Over the last few years I have absolutely gained a better understanding as to why there is such rampant corruption in sports. The answer is quite simple: BECAUSE WINNING IS AWESOME. Every coach will say, "Hey, I'd rather lose with the guys who do things the right way than win with those who don't", but it's total bullshit. And that is coming from a guy who has told that to every team he has ever coached. Losing SUCKS. Trust me. I've lost a lot of games with the right kinds of guys. It's terrible. You could give me a team full of make-a-wish kids and it wouldn't take the sting out of a loss for me. I would probably just start yelling stuff like, "JESUS CHRIST JOHN. IF YOU ARE GOING TO CARRY THAT OXYGEN TANK ON THE COURT YOU MIGHT AS WELL PUT IT TO USE!" or, "HEY, I'VE GOT A WISH. I WISH YOU WEREN'T SO GOD DAMN AWFUL AT BASKETBALL!" and then get fired.

Last year I got my first real taste of winning a lot of games with questionable kids and 100 times out of 100 I'll take the latter. Let me make one thing clear: they weren't bad kids. They weren't doing drugs or getting in fights or failing classes. They were your run of the mill knuckleheads who fooled around in class and cared more about sports and girls than long division. Were they a major pain in the ass in practice? Without a doubt. Did they know I needed them? Yup. And they played me like the sweaty fiddle I was.

This year is shaping up to be a challenge. We have zero size and even less scoring. But hey, as long as I have a bunch of kids who try their best and have a good attitude, I will consider the season a success. And if you believe that, I've got a bridge to sell you.

Mr. R

Today, we are all Bosses

2011-10-17T21:14:00.004-04:00

Tell em Rick!

In case you didn't know, today was National Boss (pronounced 'bawse') Day. I was just as unaware as most people until approximately 8 am this morning. While corralling my class in the morning, one of my favorite all time 8th graders came up to me. We exchanged the usual awkward white adult and teenage black kid greeting when he said, "So, what you get me?". Now I promise all my kids a candy bar of their choosing on their birthdays, so I initially thought that was what he was getting at. Then I remembered his birthday wasn't for a few months so I gave him a befuddled look. He then said, "You know today is National Bawse Day, and since you know I'm the bawse of this school, what you get me?" There was no way to hide my amusement. Demanding a gift on National Bawse Day on principle? Kid is destined for greatness.

His performance this morning was almost as good as his move after last year's Academic Olympics. Unbeknownst to me, they host some kind of Academic Olympiad for the catholic schools every year. My school of course told me about this event 2 days before it was taking place. I then had to scramble to put together two teams of students and deal with transportation issues. I still didn't think much of it until I saw a former grad school colleague with her school at the event. I immediately remembered her talking about how she spent months preparing her kids for this Olympiad with all the other subject teachers. My preparation involved making sure my car had enough gas to get to the event.

It won't come as much of a surprise to tell you that we got absolutely slaughtered that day. It was a bloodbath. Afterwards, the kids were understandably upset because they lost and angry about how unprepared they were. All this frustration was directed at me of course, and I could say little except, "Hey, now we know how much harder we have to work next year." Saying the mood on the ride home was somber would be an understatement. There have been Planned Parenthood waiting rooms with more hope than my backseat had that day.

As we silently pulled out of the host school's parking lot, some Lil Wayne song came on the radio. At that moment, my main man, The Bawse, turned to me and said, "Yo Mr. R, turn it up! We might not be the smartest school but we are the hoodest!" We then coasted out of the parking lot blasting some rap song and dancing while every other school looked on baffled. We spent the rest of the car ride back to school jammin' out and it was like the Olympics had never happened. It's shit like that I will remember far more than anything that I'll ever do in a classroom. A fat white guy and four black 7th graders bumpin' to Hot 97 on a sunny Friday afternoon in a 2000 edition sky blue Toyota Corolla. For that one ride, we were all bawses. So celebrate.

Stay Bawsy.

Mr. R

Sample & Song for September 29th

2011-09-29T07:41:00.005-04:00

Morning post after we watch Cartman lick Dan Shaughnessy's tears.

What a glorious, glorious day. What makes it even better is the fact that I went to bed before both games were over, so I awoke to a slew of emails and texts detailing the SAWX epic collapse. It brings me great comfort to know that while I gently slept, dreaming about taking a cab to a Chicago hot beef sandwich shop with three of my students who all ordered two sandwiches (what does it all mean?!), the SAWX were choking away their postseason birth. "Bug and I agree that this was definitely a stomach punch loss", said Bill Simmons to no one in-particular.

In other news, I am happy to announce I have a new gym nemesis. Yes people, after a tumultuous 3 month absence from the gym, I have returned. Over the summer I was way too busy either getting drunk, being drunk, or working to do anything else. More often than not, I was doing all three at the same time. I joined a new gym and stupidly let my guard down after not acquiring any real nemeses over the last month. Then he came. As if hand-delivered by some non-existent God. My archenemy, the work-out never nude. BEHOLD!

He wears the same (or owns multiple) cut-off jorts and tight tee every time I see him. I have yet to get close enough to smell him, but I can't imagine it's pretty. The lifting gloves are a great touch for someone who I have never seen lift anything heavier than a 20 pound weight. O never nude nemesis, how I loathe you. I feel like he is just the tipping point. Within weeks I will have a slew of nemeses. There is already another one who I'm just waiting to definitively decide if it is a man or a woman. If it's a man, then they are an immediate adversary.

Another interesting gym development is the co-ed sauna. Stop thinking about a 3 am Cinemax movie for a second (I mean you Mevon) and let me explain. The sauna is located upstairs by the pool, which also has communal showers for people to rinse off at before swimming. Spoiler alert: I will NEVER rinse off before swimming. That takes way too much common courtesy. I can't even be bothered to stretch before working out let alone get wet before getting wet. Believe me, I am doing FAR worse things in that pool than not rinsing off before hand. That's why God (read: science) invented chlorine.

The downfall of this set-up is that when I go to turn on the sauna, I run the risk of catching some hairy European man rinsing off in a speedo. I never even trick myself into believing I might catch an attractive woman rinsing off. Why set myself up for disappointment? I'm happy as long as no one is there. Yesterday was not one of those days.

I made my way to the pool area to set the sauna with headphones on full blast. Just as I opened the door, Ginuwine's "So Anxious" starts blaring in my ears and I make eye contact with a pudgy man in a speedo rinsing himself off. It was the perfect storm of unsexy. For anyone familiar with the music video (see below), there is a lot of slow motion cuts. Therefore, it's only natural that whenever I hear the song, I start to imagine things in slow motion. So there I was, frantically telling my brain to stop slowing things down as I watched the water cascade all over this unsightly man's exposed body. SOOOOOOOOOOO ANXIOUSSSSSSS. As soon as I got home I deleted all Ginuwine songs from my iPhone.

One more day to go in Sober September. Giddy up

Mr. R

Sample: Surfjan Stevens - Vesuvius

Song: Mac Miller - Donald Trump
Note: I'm ashamed about how much I enjoy this song

Week 3 Picks

2011-09-25T10:59:00.001-04:00

My apologies, but I've been in class all weekend. Here are the week's picks.

Game01=Jacksonville +3.5
Game02=Tennessee -6.5
Game03=Houston +4.5
Game04=Detroit -3.5
Game05=Philadelphia -6.5
Game06=Buffalo +8.5
Game07=Miami +2.5
Game08=San Francisco +2.5
Game09=NY Jets -3.5
Game10=Baltimore -3.5
Game11=San Diego -14.5
Game12=Atlanta +1.5
Game13=Green Bay -3.5
Game14=Arizona -3.5
Game15=Pittsburgh -10.5

It Has Begun...

2011-09-23T07:57:00.000-04:00

Yup. Updates to come.

Sample & Song for September 21st

2011-09-21T08:04:00.001-04:00

Good morning from the teacher's room as I sit here wondering why I thought it was OK to not wear an undershirt. Tomorrow is our opening back to school night and I expect 5 of my 20 parents to show up. I'm going to wear a suit without a tie like I'm a guest on a late night talk show. That look says, "I put in some effort, but I know none of you are going to show up or even listen so I'm not gonna get my brow all sweaty trying to tie a tie." Tying a tie is one of those activities that always makes me sweatier than it should along with getting out of bed and breathing.

I have lost 15 pounds already during sober September, which has given me the confidence to at least gaze upon some old shirts that were a faraway dream over the summer. I must be living on the wrong side of the planet since I spent all the summer months I should have been slimming down gorging on booze and fried delicacies. I also might be the first person ever to hear they were going to be in a wedding and then spend the next calendar year gaining 30 pounds. Just great hustle on my part. I almost have to hope my brother gets remarried (nothing personal sister) at some point so I can get a wedding day do-over. If not, then those wedding photos of me are FOREVER. I look like 300 pounds of shit stuffed into a cheap 200 pound suit. I sweat through my suit pants at the calf during the wedding ceremony. That was a new fat guy low for me. There is one photo that was snapped at the worst possible time with my chin down on my chest. It's a massacre. It's my personal Trail of Tears. You can almost see the sweat congealing on my face because the fat concentration in it is too high to run properly. It is my definitive before picture for which there is no current after. Of course my sister-in-law put up approximately 13 MILLION pictures of the wedding on Facebook like it was HER big day or something. I could spend 24 hours a day untagging them but when would I pleasure myself?! So all I ask is that if you guys don't want to get a divorce, renew your vows on your 1 year anniversary and hopefully a lighter, drier, less Warren look-a-like from There's Something About Mary will be there for pictures.

Enjoy your day.

Mr. R

Sample: Crown Heights Affair- Feeling Tall

Song: J. Cole - School Daze

Handicapped Stall: Week 2 Picks

2011-09-18T09:58:00.001-04:00

Ok ok. Week 1 wasn't a total disaster with a record of 8-7-1. The lesson, as always, soul crushing disappointment springs eternal in Cleveland. Spreads are courtesy of wsex.com as of 8:15 Sunday morning.

1:00 PM Games:

- Chicago +7 vs. New Orleans: I'd be a lot more comfortable with this spread if it was a half point higher. A half point lower and I'd probably pick the Saints. In other words, probably a stay away game. Just bet the over.

- Detroit -9 vs. Kansas City: Last call for the Lions bandwagon! Standing room only! With my Colts looking poised for a 2-14 season, I am firmly on the Lions bandwagon. This does not bode well for them. If I was Ndamukong Suh, I would spend my week walking around Detroit just seeing how much absurd shit I could get away with. You are going to tell me if I'm Ndamukong Suh and I walk into your restaurant in just a pair of daisy dukes, you are going to enforce the "No shirt, no shoes, no service" rule? Highly doubtful. In other news, Todd Haley continues to be a dick.

- Jacksonville +9 vs. New York Jets: Really hate this pick, but the Jets absurd luck has to run out at some point. I think the Jets win but the Jaguars are just good enough defensively and running the ball to lose by 7. Here is your weekly Jack Del Rio glamour shot.

Coat check? If you looked like me in this coat would you ever take it off?

I Didn't think so.

- Buffalo +4 vs. Oakland: So why am I up at 8 AM on a Sunday? A few reasons:

1) I am dog-sitting for my brother and his wife while they attend a wedding in...Buffalo! They made a few huge mistakes here, the most obvious of which was giving me a key to their apartment and letting me stay here all weekend. Secondly, they left a giant pot of leftover chili in their fridge. I was already planning on filling their couch cushions with stale farts, but you leave a pot of chili at my disposal? It's almost too easy. I have to pick them up from the airport later and when we arrive back at their apartment, I'm going to act like I'm hosting an episode of Candid Camera. "And there's a booger over there, I spilt chili over there, there's some semen over there!" I'm sure my sister-in-law is hungover and panicking over the damage I could wreak when left to my own devices for 72 hours. This makes me very happy.

2) I spent the 3 months from June-August on a disgusting booze fueled bender. We are talking wobbly drunk 5-7 days a week. The problem was with no school and a cake walk summer job, there was no reason not to aside from the, you know, health concerns. All summer I worked helping run a basketball league that took place literally outside my window. I had to work from 2-10 PM. That meant I could then go to the bar from 10:30-2:00, wake up at noon, have a drink or two to beat down the pending hangover, and still have 2 hours to relax until I had to walk 15 feet to work and get paid to watch basketball. Well after the umpteenth time of waking up sideways in bed with one shoe on and surrounded by food I didn't remember having delivered, I made a decision. I would do a completely sober month of September. At the time of this post, I am still on that wagon. The first week or so was a struggle as my brain had to get used to going to sleep not soaked in vodka. I would have these really crazy dreams that felt way too real and I would have to spend a minute or two convincing myself they didn't actually happen. After that, it's been pretty great. A more sensible person would probably say, "Hey, maybe this is a sign." to which I reply, "Yea, but still." I will be drinking October 1st.

Another important decision I made was to follow up Sober September with Interracial October. What is Interracial October you ask? Well, I'm going to start exclusively dating black women. Why? Why not? I still have not fully figured out how I plan on doing this (internet? single moms from school?) but it will happen and you will be updated. Someone in this family has to counteract the suffocating whiteness that is my brother. He's a married lawyer with a golden retriever, a 401 k, and a seersucker suit. He reads the New Yorker. He buys triscuits. He owns a Tommy Bahama shirt. He knew what team he was going to root for before the Little League World Series started. He dated Wes Welker. I could go on, but you get the point

- Washington -4 vs. Arizona: As of yesterday, I'm officially back in graduate school and it's miserable. I am getting my Principal certification and starting work on my doctorate. Dr. R?! I had an 8 hour statistics class yesterday, which was just as fun as it sounds. Even worse, there were not any women to get caught gawking at. There were at least 3 pregnant women in class, one Christian brother, 2 gay dudes, and a hodge-podge of other uninteresting people to look at. The other somewhat young girl in class did tell me she was a minor league football dancer, which was a career I didn't even know existed. What's the hierarchy of jobs like that?

- NFL cheerleader
- NBA dancer
- Big time college cheerleader
- Hooters girl
- Minor League football dancer
- Prostitute that does foot stuff

I had grown accustomed to taking all notes on my laptop, so I didn't even bother to bring any paper, and also managed to forget a pen. However, our professor wanted us to work out calculations by hand - I thought that was what excel was for - so I was that guy who had to ask someone for a pen and paper the first day of class. I was an audible fart away from the awkward class Holy Trinity.

- Baltimore -6 vs. Tennessee: Speaking of the Holy Trinity, no matter what setting I am in, I still struggle to properly filter the thoughts going through my head. Lately I have been thoroughly enjoying the Watch the Throne track "The Joy". It's almost certainly because I can falsetto to it.

Well, the other day while taking attendance, I caught myself muttering the Kanye verse, "This beat deserves Hennessy, a bad bitch, and a bag of weed, the Holy Trinity" then had to frantically look up to make sure no student heard me. Get your shit together Mr. R.

- Pittsburgh -14.5 vs. Seattle: I believe it was in Rocky 4 where Sly told a rabid Russian crowd, "If Tarvaris Jackson can start in the NFL, and Kerry Collins can start in the NFL, then EVERYBODY CAN START IN THE NFL!"

- Green Bay -10 vs. Carolina: Everyone's - including my own - Cam Newton boner goes to half mast this week. But it's still better than the erectile dysfunction that is a Tavaris Jackson deep ball.

- Tampa Bay +2.5 vs. Minnesota: Poor Adrian Peterson. Give the guy some help already. I can't wait for the Donovan McNabb and David Garrard reality series coming to Bravo mid-season. Least Eligible: Quarterback. The two of them share an apartment and each episode includes the following dramatic scenes:

- Deciding where to get delivery from.

- Garrard giggling on the couch while he waits for McNabb to smell his fart. It reaches McNabb, he screams "Aw, hell naw!" and sprays Febreze everywhere while refusing to leave the couch.

- McNabb taking a hand out of his boxers and cautiously raising it to his nose.

- Getting drunk and prank calling Andy Reid:

Garrard (noticeably high and giggling): "Hey Andy, is your fridge running?"

Reid (chewing loudly): "Um, yeah?"

McNabb (blowing snot rocket): "Well, then it must be down a touchdown and out of timeouts with under 2 minutes to go!"

/McNabb and Garrard high five

- Indy +1.5 vs. Cleveland: Has it really come to this? Home underdogs to the Browns? I picked a hell of a month to stop drinking.

Video Interlude:

If for some reason you haven't seen this yet, you're welcome:

"We don't need more meows." is this year's "I'm a man! I'm forty!"

- Dallas -3 vs. San Francisco: The worst thing about waking up early on weekends? I'm now on at least my third Sportscenter viewing. If I have to watch this loser talk about his Tim Tebow Facebook fan club one more time, I might even change the channel. Tebow might go to 'heaven' but he is going to spend the rest of his time on Earth in the living hell of doing local car sales commercials in Gainesville and speaking to rotary clubs. And on the 7th day, Tebow rested on the bench.

- Houston -3 vs. Miami: After Tony Sparano is fired mid-season he will open a gelato shop in Miami that will be burglarized frequently without any resistance from the store's employees, who will be made up of cut Dolphins defensive backs.

- San Diego +7 vs. New England: Wishful thinking.

- Cincinnati +3.5 vs. Denver: Our gross game of the week. I would rather have the nation construct a Vietnam Memorial style structure with the names of the women Wilt Chamberlain has slept with on it, spend 5 hours driving to see it, and find the names of every one of my female relatives over the age of 50 on it than watch this game.

- Philadelphia -2.5 vs. Atlanta: Vivid Video presents: Michael Vick screws Atlanta hard...again.

- St. Louis +6.5 vs. New York Giants: Prediction: Tom Coughlin is fired mid-season and spends his time concentrating on his collection of "World's Worst Grandather" paraphernalia.

Enjoy the games

Week 1: 8-7-1
Overall: 8-7-1

Mr. R

Sample & Song for September 16th

2011-09-16T07:40:00.002-04:00

Nothing like closing out the first full week of school with a dress down - teachers only - half day. It is always a landmark occasion when my class sees me in los blue jeans and sneakers for the first time. I have to make sure I keep my street cred high and not show up in Skecher's Shape-Ups. On a related note, one of my 2nd or 3rd cousins showed up to my grandmother's funeral last year in Skecher's Shape-Ups. I have photo evidence. I am pretty sure this gives me license to wear sweatpants to any and all functions she throws that I am forced to attend.

Trying to look as cool as possible I put on my best jeans (read: only jeans) and most unwrinkled button down. My students will never know, but these jeans have been through a lot. If these jeans could talk they would have stories to tell, but would probably just cry out "Help! His thighs are suffocating me and it smells like a wet sock left in a Pringle can down here!" These are the jeans I was wearing when I almost became the unwilling third member of an all male threesome. The situation I drunkenly sprinted out of into a snow storm and then fell slicing open said jeans and thigh. After my mental and physical wounds healed, I was still left with a very damaged pair of jeans. Refusing to purchase another pair - I had bought these jeans last minute for my big first date - I took them to the dry cleaner. The Asian man looked amazed that I would bother to have him repair these jeans with a 5 by 5 inch wide hole in one thigh, but fix them he did. The right thigh on them is now substantially tighter than the left one, and I just consider it a constant reminder to never go home at 3 am with two gay men.

Sample: The Sylvers - How Love Hurts

Song: Skyzoo - The Beautiful Decay. Bonus points because he is married to Derek Jeter's sister.

Mr. R

Live from Detention: It's The Greatest Lesson Ever Taught!

2011-09-15T14:33:00.003-04:00

As an educator, I take great pride in the lessons - both life and learning - I impart on my children. Whether it's something as elementary as understanding how big of an asshole Christopher Columbus was or never being the guy who plays the 'Don't Come' line at a busy craps table, I have much to offer the youth of America. However, the greatest lesson I ever taught took place not inside my classroom, but within the friendly confines of Wrigley Field. Take heed my children.

Starting with last year's very successful trip to Milwaukee, I drew up a plan to visit a different Midwest city every summer for a baseball game. With the Yankees heading to Wrigley as Jeter chased 3,000 hits, Chicago was the obvious choice. My partner in crime for this trip was none other than the Carnivore: One of the few men on the planet who is burdened with the same insatiable lust for all things sinful as I am. Before Man V. Food was a TV show, the Carnivore and I had been quietly living it out for over a decade only with an added emphasis on hard alcohol and cigarettes. Our show would have been called Man Spits On Science as we traversed the globe finding new ways to destroy our bodies, upset our mothers, and sleep in new exotic park benches and apartment lobbies. I can't decide if it is a gift or a curse that neither one of us is filthy rice because it we would be a monthly lock for a cover of US Weekly. "MR. R AND CARNIVORE SPEND 50 GRAND TO MAKE SPEARMINT RHINO GIRLS ACT OUT SCENES FROM CON AIR. EXCLUSIVE ON PAGE 6." We would constantly be paired up against each other in the "Who wore it better?" section after being photographed leaving clubs at 4 am in matching velour suits covered in a multitude of unidentifiable stains.

For this voyage, there were only a few stated goals:

1) Make our flight out there
2) Eat as much deep dish and as many hot beef (sans homo) sammiches as possible
3) Go to as many watering holes as possible
4) Make it home

We flew out at the crack of dawn Friday with tickets for the day game at Wrigley. We managed to quell that initial rush to party one gets when arriving at your vacation destination seeing as how it was 8 am local time. The day went smoothly and was topped off with a delicious drunken deep dish dinner circa 11 pm at Lou Malnati's.

We both woke up feeling rather spry Saturday and came up with a plan. Rather than attend the day's game, we would go bar hopping all over Chicago trying to have at least one drink in as many places as possible. Since we were starting around noon, I set the over/under at 16.5 bars. My brother, being the kill joy attorney that he is, put the over/under at 3.5. Shocked and appalled, I demanded to know his reasoning behind such a low number. His reply was, "I know you guys too well. At some point you are going to fall in love with a bartender and set up shop. It will happen." Undeterred by the man trying to bring us down, we set out to defile Chi-city. And what happened? My bastard brother was right. After having just one or two beers at the first two bars, we went into an empty Mexican place for a quick fix. The bartender was a very friendly and attractive young lass who immediately took a shining to our whole act. For the record, Carnivore and I are the patron saints of bored day shift bartenders worldwide. Next thing I know I am running across the street to buy Sierra Mist and Sprite because the Carnivore is claiming he can tell the difference in a blind taste test. Our bar maiden is more than willing to conduct these tests with the loser having to drink the worst beer in the bar, which was of course Bud Light Lime. Miraculously, he nailed two blind taste tests and I had to suck down two Bud Light Limes. I would rather listen to my grandmother excitedly read the directions on a box of Summer's Eve Feminine Wash than drink another Bud Light Lime. An hour passed and we forced ourselves to live almost entirely out of spite towards my brother.

The rest of the afternoon is a blur. At one point we were in a bar with former NCAA basketball referees and their lovely wives. There was dancing to Phil Collins, and somewhere around bar 10-12 things get rather foggy. Next thing I know it is like 8 PM and I wake up in bed to see the Carnivore sleeping on top of his sheets as well. The best part of our nap was waking up to find a giant Bigfoot style pizza in our room. I have zero recollection of ordering said pizza, but when I look at my phone I have a dozen missed calls and voicemails from a delivery guy trying to get into the room. I can only assume that eventually a hotel employee let them in so they could leave our food and exit in horror and the scene they walked into. The pizza was legitimately 3 feet long. It was incredible. None of it had been touched. For the confused, here is the old Bigfoot pizza ad:

We heroically braved our early evening hangovers, and headed back out. We did end up making it to 17 different bars and it would have been more if the Carnivore had not made the switch to martinis. It was at bar 17 that it became clear his internal compass had short circuited when doused with vodka and we would be needing to get home before mine did as well. We arrived home around 3 am having conquered Chicago.

Amazingly, I woke up feeling pretty great Sunday. Carnivore on the other hand, was not remotely enthusiastic with the fact he had to be a functioning organism at some point. Before I could even sense being hungover, I went to the lobby bar and got some beers. I also bought Carnivore some bottled water and aspirin to start the healing process. Two bud heavies each later, the tide was beginning to turn and Carnivore wasn't so upset about being alive. We had bleacher seats for the Sunday night game, which are first come first serve. We decided to head down to Wrigleyville a cool 7 hours before first pitch to start drinking and wait in line. We got seats in about the 8th row around 6 PM and waited for the game to start. The prior evening's transgressions combined with a brutal sun proved too much for Carnivore, as he took it upon himself to sprawl out and nap in the bleachers until game time. By the time the game was about to start, Carnivore was in no mood to do anything. The one negative thing I can say about the bleachers at Wrigley is the lack of vendors coming around with food and drink. Since Carnivore was in no state of being to do anything, I spent the first 5 innings as his errand boy getting the two of us a variety of food and beers. It was then that I had had enough and decided the Carnivore needed to be taught a lesson. At this stage in the game, we had become friendly with the fans in our section. To our right was a man we called Iowa because, well, he was from Iowa. In front of us was Dakota and his wife, and behind us was a lovely Latino family with their young son Jose. At one point Dakota's wife made the mistake of telling us he couldn't parallel park so Carnivore and I spent the remainder of the game talking indirectly to him like "Yo, Carnivore, you hear about how Dakota can't parallel park for shit? It's really embarrassing.He's like half a man." His father-in-law, who looked EXACTLY like Ernest Hemmingway, found this hilarious. It was enjoyable. We were out of beer and food so I tell Carnivore I'm going to make a run. I come back with 2 orders of nachos, 2 beers, and a hot dog. Upon seeing me majestically come down our row, Carnivore's eyes light up at the prospect of some nachos and a beer. Before I sit down I ask Iowa and Jose if they would like some nachos under one condition: they are not allowed to give a single nacho to Carnivore for his laziness. They agree to the terms and get their nachos. I ate the hot dog and happily drink both beers while yelling, "I just taught you a 50 dollar lesson you'll never forget!" at Carnivore. The Carnivore spent the inning trying to steal nachos from Jose when he wasn't looking. I had to keep yelling, "JOSE! ELBOWS OUT!" The next inning, not only did Carnivore go get a round of beers, but Iowa bought us beers as well. It was the greatest lesson ever taught. On an unrelated note, with the Cubs losing, the Spanish family started yelling "Basura!" loudly in the later innings. Unaware that it meant "garbage" or even caring because it sounded so funny, Carnivore and I started to yell basura as well much to the delight of our Latino friends. Try yelling it right now. I promise you won't not like it.

Fast forward to the following weekend for my brother's wedding. I am telling this story to a group and my 7 year old cousin happens to overhear it. He spent the rest of the weekend pointing at Carnivore and taunting him with, "You're too lazy to get nachos!" I can't wait until next summer when we are both to lazy to get baby back ribs in St. Louis.

Mr. R

And We're Off!

2011-09-14T14:55:00.002-04:00

Some quick observations from the first few days of the school year while we all bask in the glory that is SARAH PALIN SEXING GLEN RICE IN ALASKA IN 1987. O, there also might be some enticing photos of Scarlett Johansson floating around the internet but I wouldn't know anything about those.

/discards sock
/deletes browser history

(2 hours pass)

/discards sock
/deletes browser history

- It's amazing how quickly I have fallen back into my daily routine. At school by 7. Two cups of coffee by 7:20. Initiating a fecal jihad on the toilet by 7:30. Sweat through my shirt by 9. Lather, rinse, repeat.

- On day 1 I went through the usual ice breakers including 'Two Truths & a Lie". For those unfamiliar, everyone writes down three things about themselves and the class has to guess which one is the lie. Normally kids put things like "My favorite color is..." or "I have two dogs..." and it is all very innocent. Not this year. One girl's three statements were:

- My sister has 8 kids
- My other sister was on the Maury Povich Show
- I am a great dancer

The lie? Her sister only has 7 kids silly. Before I could even shift the conversation, she was explaining how her sister thought her man was cheating with this old woman around the block so she brought him there for a lie detector. He failed said lie detector and she "beat him up and down the stage." This girl is 11.

Next up was an extremely hyperactive young gentlemen who sports a very impressive mohawk with his name shaved into the sides of his head. His three statements were:

- I hate Math
- I hate Science
- I once threw a rock at a woman's head.

The lie? He didn't throw a rock at a woman's head. Phew. HOLD UP. He then clarified that, "Well, I threw the rock at her, but I wasn't aiming for her head and I missed anyways." Good.

- At some point over the summer, I managed to lose a perfectly good pair of black dress shoes and have been too broke to buy a new pair until I get paid (today!). Why not just go to Payless you ask? Because since I spend the entirety of the day on my feet pacing back and forth, quality shoes is one of the few things I spring for in life. That list looks something like this:

- Shoes
- Salted and cured deli meats

So I have been forced to limit my already vastly limited wardrobe to brown shoe friendly attire. Why do I care? Because children are VICIOUS. I spilled coffee on myself the other day and I might as well have shit myself the way these kids reacted. Another great new development is for the first time in my life I've gotten not one, but TWO pimples on my face. Does this mean I can finally expect to go through puberty? One of the few gifts God (read: genetics) had bestowed on me was an incredibly acne free adolescent period, and now it was all for naught. I came outside the yesterday to get kids and an 8th grade girl looked at me and said, "Ew, Mr. R. Why is your face all red and you got a zit under your eye?" O, I don't know? Maybe it's because I just drank 30 ounces of coffee, had a breech birth on the toilet, and am generally a disgusting human being? IT'S 8:00 AM, GET OUT MY FACE.

- The 8th grade boys have a new favorite saying already. This is how it works:

Student: "Yo, Mr. R, I really like that watch."
Me: "Thanks."
Student (said quickly with a higher pitch): "GIVE IT UP!" (followed by giggling)

That's the extent of it. As soon as you say thanks, they demand the item. They seem to get endless amounts of joy out of this. They have already asked me to give up my watch, phone, pants, shoes, jacket, shirt, laptop, pen, scissors, tape, and water bottle.

- The adjustment to having a 6th grade homeroom has been smooth, while the same can't be said about having 20 kids. There is no such thing as silence when you are in a room with 20 eleven or twelve year old kids for 3 plus straight hours. I am learning to accept relative silence and pick my battles wisely. I haven't had to yell at all yet, but I'm anticipating my first outburst sometime early next week. We are still in the honeymoon phase where I am being nice and they aren't pushing too many buttons. There is normally a day somewhere within the first two weeks where a class tries to break out and that's when I normally have to sacrifice a lamb or two for the good of the flock. It's not unlike kicking a kid or two out of a basketball practice early on to prove a point. It is inevitable.

- The biggest difference between 6th and 7th grade is the size disparity among the boys and girls. The girls TOWER over the boys. It is comical and does not bode well for this year's basketball team. I might have to start creepily hanging out at hood basketball courts and picking up young boys if my squad is going to have a shot this year.

NFL picks later.

Mr. R

Handicapped Stall Week 1

2011-09-07T20:02:00.003-04:00

While the NFL lockout technically ended over a month ago, I think we can agree it officially ends with the first snap of tomorrow night's game. Think of it like an engagement. Yea, you claim you are going to spend the rest of your life with that person, but until "I do's", rings, and a kiss are exchanged, that shit ain't official. Therefore, I won't consider the lockout ended until either Aaron Rodgers or Drew Brees' hands are firmly on a 300 pound man's taint for that first snap. In honor of the lockout ending, I too have ended my contentious lockout with blogspot. We finally agreed to the following terms:

- No showering or blogging on Sundays
- 50-50 revenue split (Note: blog revenue from 2008-2011 has been $0.00)

That's it.

The only thing marring the NFL's glorious return tomorrow is it just so happens to be my not so glorious return to teaching. I am even more unprepared this year than usual due to some heavy flirtation with another job in the area. Long story short, I interviewed multiple times and then they decided to tell me in mid August that I didn't get the job. Thanks guys! Nothing like crawling back to your old school a few weeks before classes begin to ask for your old job. "Hey, remember when I said I wanted to see other people? Well... I was just kidding. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder...22 K a year? GREAT. I'll take it!"

/buys pallet of Ramen Noodles at Costco

It's always fun to read the positive reports out of training camp this time of year. "Adam Schefter reports that so and so has showed up to camp in the best shape of their lives and is primed for a breakout year." Well, if ESPN reported on teachers the way they did NFL players, I would have been Bryant McKinnie.

"Chris Mortensen is citing numerous sources within the school who are saying Mr. R showed up to organizational meetings looking like Ron Burgundy drinking from a expired milk container. One source, who didn't want to be named, said Mr. R smelled faintly of chorizo and seemed to be sweating from pores not yet discovered."

I was so far behind that I had to bribe two basketball players with a free lunch to help me get my room set up. After a few hours of work I took them to a local diner and uttered the fateful words, "Get whatever you want." An appetizer and Italian dinner entree each later, they left full and I left with an empty wallet. Well played gentlemen. This being my fourth year, the first day jitters are long gone. However, I have a 6th grade homeroom for the first time this year which is also my biggest class to date (21 kids, 14 girls). The standard silly 3 syllable names here and there apply. There is one new boy I am praying is an athletic 6'3" because if not my basketball team might go winless. But that is for another time.

All that being said, let's get into this week's picks. As usual, these picks were made with very little to no research. My picks are listed first with home teams in bold. Spreads are courtesy of wsex.com (World Sports Exchange you sickos) as of 8:30 on Wednesday night.

New Orleans +4.5 vs. Green Bay: It's extremely difficult to bet against Aaron Rodgers especially when he has a 'stache like this:

HOWEVAH (Stephen A. Smith, perpetuity), this game reeks of something like 35-31. I'll take the points and any cheese curd dripping off of Mr. Rodger's upper lip.

Baltimore -2.5 vs. Pittsburgh: I couldn't find any photo evidence, but I'm pretty sure Mike Tomlin has been slowly turning into a fat body NFL coach over the last few years. I for one, respect the shit out of such a move. Nothing says, "I watch film until 3 am every night while eating egg rolls" like gaining a casual 30 pounds over 2 seasons. I salute you Mr. Tomlin. John Harbaugh seems like the kind of guy who works out in skin tight cut-off Under Armour shirts and a fanny pack. O what I would give to hear what is on his Sony Discman.

The Harbaughs don't play that MP3 shit

Detroit +1 vs. Tampa Bay: Has anyone rewritten 'Run Around Sue' to 'Run Around Suh' yet? Can I trademark that idea? Hey attorney brother, quit defending Domnique Strauss-Kahn for a minute and set me up. On a related note, has there been a name more tailor made for rape than his? And he's French? I bet he has custom suits made with secret pockets for GHB.

Atlanta -3 vs. Chicago: Recently I've encountered the best looking women as employees at either my bank or gym. These are by far the WORST two places for me to encounter a member of the opposite sex. At one, I'm the sweaty guy with - hold on while I check - $2.71 in his savings account. At the other I'm the sweaty guy grunting like Martina Hingis while trying not to fart on the elliptical. True story: Today while at the gym I was towards the end of my work out and had already sweated completely through my gray sweatshirt. Why I continue to buy gray sweatshirts is beyond me. This guy puts his towel down next to mine and I accidentally pick his up - nothing else - just pick it up. I go to hand it to him, he takes one look at me, waves me off, and goes to get a new towel.

Buffalo +5.5 vs. Kansas City: This pick has everything to do with thinking Matt Cassel might not play and nothing to do with the Bills' abilities.

Indy +8.5 vs. Houston: Oh, don't worry. Being a Colts fan these last few weeks hasn't been that agonizing. I'm 100% convinced that Manning is out for the season and the Colts are keeping it under wraps. If that is the case, I really hope they tank and go 2-14 to get Andrew Luck. There are no moral victories from going 7-9 or 8-8 with Kerry Collins. Lose. Lose often. Lose badly.

St. Louis +4.5 vs. Philly: UPSET ALERT! Fact: This game will be everyone's go to upset pick. I figure the Rams either win outright or lose by 30.

Cleveland -6.5 vs. Cincy: Anytime you can take Colt McCoy giving a team close to a TD, you just cackle and count your money. Ugh. What a terrible game. I'd rather watch Chaz Bono get a colonoscopy. Check that. I'd rather watch Chaz Bono do ANYTHING than watch this. Have you seen Chaz Bono's beard? No really. HAVE YOU SEEN CHAZ BONO'S BEARD?!

He looks like the love child of Kevin Federline and Larry the Cable Guy. This is what Kevin Love would look like if he ate Chaz Bono. If I believed in a hell, it would almost certainly involve watching Chaz Bono and the pregnant man pudding wrestle in Speedos. Let's move on.

Tennessee +2.5 vs. Jacksonville: I like to picture my unemployed David Garrard watching a Millionaire Matchmaker marathon in Jaguars practice sweats covered in stains. "But Patti said no sex on the first date!", mumbled an extremely stoned David Garrard through a mouth full of pizza flavored Pringles.

VIDEO BREAK!

This is currently the best video on all the internets. It's so good that I dusted off my saxophone today and plan on learning this solo for my next social function. Enjoy.

This song makes me want to star in a movie where I fall in love with a black woman, but it seems our relationship is doomed because of our familial backgrounds. We will call it Mixed Feelings.
Yes I know this movie has already been made and it's called Something New, but it's my blog so SHUT UP. With about 30 minutes left in the movie, we get into a blow out fight at a holiday dinner at her parent's house. In a fit of rage I make a racially charged comment about her family and am forced to leave. This song would play during the ensuing 'time broken-up' montage that happens in every romantic movie. It would be just scenes of us going about our daily lives and shots of me drinking scotch while staring longingly out my window with one hand on the window above my head. You know the shot. In the end, I would drive 16 hours down to her family reunion in South Carolina to win her back. LOVE KNOWS NO COLOR.

New York Giants -3 vs. Washington: You can add the grocery store as another place it would be impossible for me to meet an attractive lass. The other day I had the following items at checkout: Baby wipes, baby powder, a head of lettuce, and 2 deodorants (BOGO!). It screamed, "I may have explosive diarrhea, but at least I'm trying to eat healthier while smelling better!"

Arizona -7 vs. Carolina: I for one am very excited for the Cam Newton era. It's either going to be a glorious catastrophe or will immediately make the Panthers relevant. There is no in-between. Also, Ron Rivera is the Latino Jack Del Rio. I'd buy a calendar with them on it as long as Andy Reid wasn't Mr. July.

San Fran -5.5 vs. Seattle: I imagine listening to the GM of the Seahawks explain the Tavaris Jackson signing would be like listening to Carl Everett refute the fact that dinosaurs ever existed.

Minnesota +9 vs. San Diego: I have no facts to back up this claim, but I think the Vikings will be better than most people expect. Going from Tavaris to McNabb is like going from beginning of Trading Places Eddie Murphy to end game Eddie.

Dallas +4 vs. NY Jets: This line is real fishy to me and if I was a betting man, I would wager the bejesus out of the Cowboys. People will say the Jets will be motivated to play because it is the anniversary of 9/11. Are all the Jets players members of the FDNY and I didn't know? Do you really think the likes Antonio Cromartie or Plaxico Burress care that this game is taking place on 9/11? Come on.

New England +7 vs. Miami: Pats are good, Dolphins are bad.

Denver -3 vs. Oakland: Flipped a coin. SCIENCE!

3 team 10-point teaser of the week:

New England +3
Dallas + 14
St. Louis +14.5 or Kansas City +4.5

Enjoy the games.

Mr. R

Expectations Marrying Reality

2011-06-28T21:46:00.003-04:00

Hi...um...I don't want to be awkward or anything, but have me met before? I think it was it at that Furry Convention in Palo Alto? You were dressed like an even sluttier version of the female rabbit from Space Jam and I was in Baloo from TaleSpin costume? No? Not you? You say we just met last week at a local bar where I sniffed your hair and asked if that was a new conditioner? O... well, just keep on grocery shopping then...cherry tomatoes huh...I'm more of an heirloom guy myself...

And we're back! All the usual excuses apply to my most recent - and most lengthy - absence ad nauseum: busy, lazy, drunk. More often times than not, I was just busy being lazy and drunk. Aside from that, the biggest reason I wasn't writing came as a surprise to even myself, and that was Twitter. As I got more comfortable with the idea of not only being on but actively using Twitter, it took over. Instead of having to come up with full posts to dazzle and amaze you, fair internet reader, I could simply type two quick inappropriate sentences on Twitter and get a cheap giggle or two out of relative strangers. From how I've dealt with every other facet of my life, I should have been well aware of how Twitter would impact me. It was the easy way out, which I've almost always found to be the BEST way out. Yes, I could go grocery shopping and spend 15-20 minutes cooking myself a sensible and healthy dinner at home, or I could drive 5 minutes without ever having to sit up and find myself magically holding 10 chicken nuggets and a large fry. It's a adaption of the old adage "The Devil is in the details". Once things start to get detailed, the Devil tells me to "Screw it, and do what will bring me the quickest and easiest satisfaction." Heavy lies the crown of my head when I think of having to do anything remotely difficult. For the record, this realization has not made me dislike Twitter in any way. I highly recommend anyone looking for some quick insensitive jokes that may or may not make sense to check out my Twitter account @ twitter.com/badbuffet. I promise 1 out of every 20 tweets will make you either giggle or cringe or your money back (no money back).

The reason for this, my most recent empty promise filled return, is because of a major event in R family history-- my brother's wedding. The elder R finally and officially locked down the maiden of his dreams this past weekend to rave reviews. The wedding was spectacular in every major category: Rehearsal dinner, venue, food, band, people, and most importantly, best man performance. That's right humans. Your very own Mr. R served as best man and, if early reports are to be trusted, it might go down as one of the best best man performances in wedding history. I don't think of myself as a man who is prone to braggadocio, so I apologize for how the following paragraph will most likely come off. These are just the things that I was told by a myriad of friends, family, and strangers (or was told was told to others, if that makes sense) both during and after the wedding. Obviously, these statements should be taken with a grain of salt, but there is video evidence floating around the internet of my performance that if you have a way to find, I think will back up claims.

From the minute my brother called me to ask to be his best man, all my thoughts turned to the speech I would have to prepare. It might surprise some to hear, but even as someone who writes a fairly personal, albeit anonymous, blog on the internet and spends the entirety of his day speaking in front of groups, I've never been crazy comfortable with public speaking. I consider teaching a wholly different experience because you are not speaking in front of peers. Furthermore, I knew expectations would be through the roof. This is something I've written about before I believe in relation to meeting people who read this blog. It was always something that could be awkward because although I feel my writing here is an authentic representation of the person I really am, it's weird to meet people who know you but don't really know you so there is no way to gauge their expectations of such a meeting. The best man speech situation was similar. I would have to deliver a speech in front of 200 people who a majority of I would have had either very little or zero personal interaction with. Moreover, anyone coming to the wedding who did not know me at all, I would almost certainly be described to as my brother's "funny/crazy little brother." I'm not saying that isn't an accurate description, it's just limited in scope. I AM MULTI-FACETED. God, listen to me whine that strangers would expect me to funny and entertaining. WOE IS ME.

Right from the start I had an almost Fight Clubian approach to the speech: Be funny, make fun of my brother while praising his bride, and be funny. With those rules in mind, I honestly put the speech on the back burner for months figuring I would work best under pressure anyways. About a month before the wedding I sent out a basic outline of the speech to 5 people who could be categorized in the following way:

1) Carnivore: A fellow groomsmen and one of the closest friends my brother and I have had since childhood, he was an obvious choice. If only because there have been times when people assume him and I are brothers and not the other way around. I knew he would appreciate the more inappropriate sides of my vision of the speech while also giving it to me straight.

2) Cords: Another groomsmen, college roommate of my brother, and also a lawyer. I know this might come across as an insult, but he's the most serious of my brother's friends. In the sense that he has his shit together by owning a house, being engaged, and gainfully employed. He just no longer drinks until black out during the week, which makes him decidedly serious in this group of friends. I was counting on him to be the overall voice of reason. He still has the same sense of humor as the rest of our crew but it is has been altered by being an adult.

3) Wasalenko: Closest friend growing up and a guy who lived with my family for 5 years starting from our senior year of high school and all the way through college. I can say without question people are bothered by our level of closeness and insider jokery. As a friendship barometer, I like to think of how many syllables it would take me to elicit a laugh from someone. With Wasa, it is almost always somewhere between one and four syllables. People must hate being around us because all I have to do is say the name of someone we went to middle school with in a certain tone and the two of us will loudly giggle for minutes. We are both single by the way.

4) Mo: During 2006-2007 college season, there might not have been a weirder and more compatible roommate duo. In the same vein as my relationship with Wasa, Mo and I could spend hours delighting ourselves simply by having full conversations in sing-song voices. He once encouraged me to spend 90 dollars on sweatpants and also buy a Magic Bullet at a mall in Rhode Island. One night we went out in matching outfits except he wore long sleeves and pants and I wore the same shirt/pants in their short sleeve and short incarnation. We decided this would be even funnier if we drank gin martinis the whole night. If that isn't genuine friendship, I don't know what is. He's a guy who I inexcusably rarely see while I can't stop seeing gay men who have hit on me at bars. More on that in another post I guess.

5) Cadillac Don: From start to finish, the funniest guy I know. He hits all the comedic markers from crude to upper crust. He is like if Steve-O had a lovechild with Zach Galifinakis. I knew I could count on him for strong input.

After sending out the initial email, the general consensus I got was to stay the course and to err on the side of caution with certain stuff just because you don't want the room to turn. With that input, I waited until the day before the wedding to finally write a real draft. Here, for your viewing pleasure, is the best man speech I delivered this past weekend to a standing O. A few notes:

- Obviously certain details have been changed to protect identities. My brother will be John and his fiance will be Jane. For the record, I did give out my actual cell phone number. No one has called.

- While I was transcribing the text from the actual speech video, I realized how often I started off sentences with "You know..." That needs to stop.

- In my first draft I had included the following lengthy 9/11 joke:

"But while John might look dapper in that custom suit, laying just beneath the surface lies what me and Jane like to call, his ferret body. A little hairy pot belly that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Now, what he doesn't want to tell you is that there's a reason behind his pasty bloated skin suit because he's a prideful man. Like so many others, John was deeply impacted by 9/11. While others swore off shaving, cutting their hair, or even booze until we caught Bin Laden, he swore off all physical activity. I can recall countless nights where while Jane slaved over a delicious meal, my brother bravely checked his fantasy baseball roster while drinking wine in sweatpants. Never forget John. As I'm sure Jane wont."

After I received some cautionary feedback about that joke, I decided to shorten it to the following:
"A lot of people swore they wouldn't shave or cut their hair until we found Bin Laden. So I just want to let you know John, that it's okay to go back to they gym."

- As you will see from the transcript of my actual speech, neither joke made the cut. The reason for that was I had been so on fire to that point, I didn't want to take the risk of turning the crowd in anyway. I think the second Bin Laden joke would have brought the house even further down and consider it my one speech regret.

Without further (Freddy) adieu (as transcribed from video):

"For starters, if anyone was traumatized by having to watch me sweat through that ceremony, there will be grief counselors outside. Number 2, now that John is gone, you are looking at the last of age, male R family bachelor. So if you're single, looking to upgrade, and BELOW a third cousin, my cell phone number is 555-333-4444. Thirdly, I know birth certificates are a very big topic right now with President Obama, so I brought John's so in case anyone is wondering, even though Jane wears the pants in the relationship, he was born a guy. And one more disclaimer for Jane, since John is a lawyer he sat me down before and went over a contract of what I could say and couldn't say. And I included the clause, that she doesn't know, that I get to name your first child. So I can not wait for my niece Delicatessen R or my nephew Tanqueray. They are going to be lovely children.

So while standing here today I consider John one of my best friends, you know that wasn't always the case growing up in the R household. It was a very competitive place which you can probably tell from meeting my overbearing, sports obsessed mother. And the problem was that John was always a little smarter, a little more athletic, and MUCH better looking. It's great when you are in middle school and every girl you love is like 'O, you're John's brother, he's SO HOT.' I took a lot of cold showers in the late 90s. (Note: In my original speech right here is where I was supposed to say: 'It seemed like I could never escape John's shadow, which is ironic because I've always been twice his size.' I just simply forgot it in the moment).

You know, aside from those things, he's always been a little luckier. You know, as people here can attest, the R household - mom and dad cover your ears - was the party household growing up in high school and college because they were constantly at the shore. Which was probably why we were such pale children. Because the options were either being sober and sunburn with mom and dad, or pale and plastered at their empty house. The answer is B. And, John's parties got just as crazy as mine, but he never got caught, and I ALWAYS got caught. And it would be something as simple as the cops showing up and one of John's friends form tackling them, then them getting up and realizing they were friends with the cop, and them getting up and leaving. Or me cleaning for 3 hours not realizing my friends filled the mail box with beer cans, so when my parents checked the mail they knew what happened.

And as you can tell from the gorgeous woman sitting next to him, his luck knows no bounds. You might be saying, and my grandmother if she were here too, be saying 'come on, he's a good looking man' and he looks great in that designer suit. But underneath that suit, lie what me and Jane like to call his ferret body. It's just this pale torso, with a light glazing of hair and a pot belly. It's really unfortunate. You know, yesterday we saw some pictures of your high school jawline and the only place we are finding that high school jawline these days is the side of a milk carton. No other option.

(Note: Obvious pause while I debate whether or not to tell Bin Laden Joke)

You know, normally, this would be have been a problem for me, you know jealousy, but I want to thank John because him being so lucky and landing a woman as gorgeous, and driven, and intelligent as Jane, means my family and myself get her too. So I want to say thank you to John. And let's raise our glasses, and toast because you know with John's luck and Jane at the helm, they have years and years of happiness. Cheers. That number again, 555-333-4444."

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

That was that. Now - and I promise this is my second to last brag thinly veiled as something else (AKA HumbleBrag) of the night - is where people are confused. When judging my own comedic talents, I would say I am without question very good at being 'in the room' and 'in the moment' funny. The problem is, a lot of people take someone being funny in a given situation to immediately assuming they need to do stand up comedy. Right after my speech a ton of people felt the need to tell me that I need to do open mic nights or I was "wasting my talents". Really? These people clearly have no idea what it takes and means to be a stand up comedian. They just see me and think, "Hey, he's funny, fat, and has a drinking problem. Just like all the other handful of comedians I can reference. HE MUST DO STAND-UP." No. It ain't like that. I have never had any real desire to pursue that avenue. That kind of commentary, if anything, made me realize I had zero excuse for not blogging for over two months, something I really enjoy when I'm actively doing it. So maybe instead of chastising these people I should thank them for getting me back into the blogosphere and hopefully giving something people entertaining to read.

Now that my pre-speech jitters were gone and I was bathing in the post-speech approval of everyone, nothing could phase me. I spent the rest of my evening drinking somewhere between 6 and 13,000 Amstel Lights as I promised myself I wouldn't drink any heavy artillery (gin). During this time, I knew my brother might want me to perform a rendition of Shout! with the band's blessing. Around 11:30, I was summoned to the stage and gave what could only be described as one of the most energetic, sweaty, and crowd moving performances in wedding history. At one point I found myself ad-libbing slash grinding with the 300 pound plus female lead vocalists of the band. It was amazing. As we were leaving the wedding, my brother let me know that when he spoke with the band he was told, and I quote, that "Anytime your brother wants to perform with us in the NYC area, he has an open invitation. We need someone like him."

If only more people needed sweaty and overweight men in rented suits, maybe I would have gotten a call after my best man speech.

It feels good to be back. Night.

Mr. R

Delayed

2011-05-12T14:49:00.000-04:00

Have to help kids with their projects so there will be no detention post. There will be happy hour and a post this evening. In the interim:

Song of the Day for May 12th

2011-05-12T07:29:00.000-04:00

Salutations Humans. Detention post today updating on all things school related. Until then, I would be remiss if I didn't let the rest of the world know that I air dried to Ginuwine's "Pony" this morning. You're Welcome America.

Mr. R

"Current" Events Catch Up

2011-04-21T11:18:00.005-04:00

Tell em Staind!

Man that song makes me giggle. Staind was Nickelback before Nickelback was Nickelback. If you own a Staind CD you probably should not be allowed to vote in Presidential elections. It is impossible for someone to use the actual phrase "It's been awhile", without me immediately singing "It's been awhile!" right back at them. It's probably why I haven't made any new friends since the early aughts.

But it really has been awhile (It's been awhile!) since I graced the interwebs with my immature and slightly coherent musings. Let's review some relatively recent current events I missed out on during my month long hiatus.

1. Japanese Tsunami: Is this still going on? Wasn't radiation supposed to spread around the world and kill us all? Did any diminutive Asian scientists get super powers from radiation exposure (fingers crossed)? This is going to make me sound like the asshole I am, but in the grand scheme of things, I really didn't care much about this event, and I'm fine with admitting that. It wasn't like I was happy this happened or harbored any ill will towards the Japanese, and I think in some situations that is good enough. Here's the thing: We live in a society where more people just want you to know that they care about things like this than actually do care. I don't need to read 200 Facebook status updates where you send your "Thoughts and Prayers" to Japan without offering any actual insight. "O look! That girl I got drunk with at a Sweet 16 and made out with once is really concerned about the Japanese right now. She must be such a caring individual."

I hate the whole concept of "Thoughts and Prayers". It's a bullshit vague and cliche expression that means absolutely nothing. It goes hand in hand with "Let me know if I can do anything for you" text you get after a death in the family or other sad event. Don't get me wrong, that kind of text from a close friend is appreciated when you know it's authentic, but I find people who actually are close to you realize they don't need to come out and say those kinds of things because it's a given. They tend to come from people you would make small talk with if you ran into them at a bar. Next time I get one of those from a quasi friend, I'm going to immediately respond, "Actually, I'm a little short on my rent and need a ride to the airport at 3 am on Wednesday. Thanks for the help." just to freak the person out.

In one of his stand-ups, Chris Rock had a joke about how we don't need gun control but bullet control. The idea being if bullets cost 5,000 dollars, anyone who got shot probably deserved it. Here's the NSFW clip:

Borrowing from Mr. Rock, let's say over the course of a lifetime you only got ten legitimate Thoughts & Prayers to give out that would be moderately effective. Once your ten were up, that's it. People would be more careful not to just spray their Thoughts and Prayers everywhere. My current list would look something like this:

1. 9/11
2. Blanket thought and prayer to troops overseas
3. NFL Lockout (kidding... not kidding)

I'm still debating whether or not Hurricane Katrina got one, which means Japan certainly doesn't make the cut. I only have 7 more, so I have to be real careful. Just last week I almost wasted one while at a red light when I was convinced I was going to diarrhea all over myself. My next one will most likely involve Sarah Palin not becoming President of the United States in 2012 or ever.

2. NFL Lockout: I still can't believe the players and owners are going to find a way to ruin the best thing in the universe. It's unfathomable. I'm one of the most immature and spiteful people on Earth, and even I could find a way to make this work. If someone gifted me a foot long Italian hero and said "This is free with one condition: You have to find a way to split it with your worst enemy, Josh Beckett, where one of you ends up with a little more than the other person." Although it would be tough, I think I could still agree to a 5 to 7 inch split in Beckett's favor because I would still be getting free and delicious salted deli meats. It appears to me that the Player's Union and owners would let the sandwich rot while they sat cross armed with their backs to each other. The 2011-2012 NFL season is a slowly decaying Italian hero, and that makes me incredibly sad on multiple levels.

3. The Oscars: I didn't watch a minute of the Oscars partly because I don't own a TV and mostly because I don't care. I found the public outrage at a possibly stoned James Franco's hosting job hilarious. Someone needed to hire Denny Green to just shout, "HE WAS WHAT WE THOUGHT HE WAS!" at anyone who feigned outrage over his performance. Most years, I'm good about seeing all the best picture nominees but I am still way behind on this year's films. Let's run em down:

1. King's Speech: Haven't seen it but will most likely illegally download it during my current Spring Break. O, did I forget to mention I don't have work until May 2nd?

2. True Grit: I went to see True Grit during my Christmas Break the day after I was nearly an unwilling participant in a gay threesome. I was so distraught that when I woke up I just started drinking whiskey before meeting my buddy to see the movie at like 1 PM. I fell asleep 15 minutes into the movie and woke up with 15 minutes left. I really enjoyed the 30 minutes I saw.

3. Black Swan: I have not seen Negro Swan yet. When someone has brought up Black Swan and I've mentioned that I have not seen it, the first thing they say is, "Well there's a graphic lesbian scene." like that would of course get me to see it immediately. Do I really look like that much of a depraved creep?

/checks current outfit and internet tabs.

Don't answer that.

4. The Fighter: Saw it, liked it, probably won't ever watch it again. I wonder how much Robin Williams got for letting them use his "Nawt you" line.

5. 127 Hours: Seems like the kind of movie you make yourself sit through once just to say you saw it to impress other people. The cinematic equivalent of reading Infinite Jest.

6. Inception: Really enjoyed it...or did I?

7. The Social Network: Probably my favorite movie of the year even though Justin Timberlake tried to ruin it. His voice is too high for me to ever take him seriously as an actor. I feel the same way about him as an actor as I do female rappers. Sorry, but it's just never gonna work out. I think my main problem with female rappers is their sexual references make me very uncomfortable and I can't rap along to them. Take the Cam'ron classic "What Means the World To You". The female rap part goes like so:

Ladies say (ah) scream it out speak it out
It's that time of the month for you leakin out say oww (oww)
Shit yall know I'm down for the hoes down for the doe
down for a little lay dick on the low yall know
I'ts that kima chick that'll heat ya chick (oww)
Squeeze the click (oww) go home and get freaked again
Yall know i like that sex wit the right cat
Rings make them iced stack

8. Toy Story 3: I'm a sucker for a good animated flick. On a unrelated note, I was nowhere Boulder, Colorado during the Christmas of 1996.

9. The Kids Are All Right: Would someone just let Mark Ruffalo take a nap already? Another movie that falls into the "Look at me! I saw this!" category. No desire.

10. Winter's Bone: Awesome flick. That is all.

Here's my question: Why do we need 10 best picture nominees? Seems rather excessive. It's like a Tee Ball league where every kid gets a participation trophy even if they ran the bases backwards half the time.

4. Long Island Serial Killer: I'm just going to say it: I'm extremely grateful I'm not in the average serial killer's demographic. I'm never going to turn on the news and hear "Tonight at 11: Another obese middle school teacher washes up on the shores of Point Pleasant." It's the little things. There was a two week stretch before I quit Cub Scouts in first grade that I might have been on some killers radar, but I persevered. The day my future son goes through puberty or my daughter starts playing field hockey, I'm going to throw an "Off the Radar" party for them. The Jews get Bar Mitzvahs, the Spanish have Quinces, let's give the white middle class something for once.

Mr. R

Sample/Song for March 24th

2011-03-24T22:18:00.003-04:00

Jesus (wasn't real) has it been a month? I'm not going to even offer my usual excuses and apologies. I've been too busy with a multitude of things to wax philosophically about sweatpants, mozzarella sticks, and Arnold Palmers (the real holy trinity). Anyway, consider this post my solemn promise to you, 18 internet readers, that there will be a flood of posts this weekend as I dogsit. Topics will include:

Basketball
School
Family
Japan
BLT Sandwiches and much much more.

So fear not noble followers, a new day is dawning.

Bobby McFerrin-Don't Worry Be Happy

Chiddy Bang-Don't Worry Be Happy

Mr. R

Sample/Song: Reignite the Flame!

2011-02-28T07:43:00.003-05:00

How about my Knicks?! I'm 100 percent on the bandwagon and don't care who knows it.

I was never a Knicks fan growing up so I get genuine pleasure from using "we" and "our" when referring to the Knicks to piss off real fans. "We're back!", shouted the burly man who hadn't watched a full NBA game since 1996.

But let's be honest, NO ONE was a Knicks fan for the last decade or so except Spike Lee and Eddy Curry's baby mamas. So what if we are incredibly soft down low and relying on Ronny 'I had open heart surgery in my early 20s' Turiaf? My man Melo will find a way to lead us to the Promised Land (read: second round playoff loss...hopefully)!

I got in early today to finish up grading my 6th and 7th graders Black History Month projects. It could not have been a more straight-forward assignment: Pick an influential African American, write a brief biography, slap some pictures on a poster board, and finish up with why you picked them. Things got off to a good start when no one tried to pick any white people, like last year's FDR and Bill Clinton fiasco. As usual, I convinced myself all the presentations would go smoothly, I could give everybody an A, and be given a lifetime achievement award from the NAACP. O how I was wrong.

There were the usual presentation flops: Standing right in front of the board to read, simply taping Wikipedia pages on the board, long silent blank stares, etc. But one girl took it to a whole other level. Her project was on Queen Latifah and she decided to do a PowerPoint. Wonderful...or so I thought. Everything was going smoothly until her final slide where she was supposed to explain the reason behind her selection of Queen Latifah. I'll just quote her:

"I picked Queen Latifah because her husband paid for Christopher Columbus to sail across the ocean and discover America, which is where we live today."

I tried to gently nudge her in the right direction so she would recognize her outrageous error. Nope. She simply looked at me like I was an idiot, REPEATED the paragraph, and then sat down to applause. Queen Latifah: Rapper, Actress, Beauty Products endorser, 15th century royalty?

Big week for basketball. Playoffs start tonight and if all goes well, we will have 5 games in 6 days ending with the Championship on Saturday. We took a huge step forward on Saturday when, for the first time all year, we closed a team out to win a close game. The whole year we have either won comfortably or lost by 2-5 points. I'm not saying it was my coaching, but it was my coaching.

Enjoy the day

Mr. R

Sample: Billy Paul-Don't Think Twice It's Alright

Song: Fashawn-Samsonite Man

You're Welcome

2011-02-27T13:53:00.002-05:00

My current favorite video on the internets. That is all. As you were.

Live from Detention: It's Pretty Much Don't Talk To Me!

2011-02-24T14:29:00.008-05:00

Throughout the glorious run of the Buffet, we have frequently referred to unacceptable actions as being on the "Pretty Much Don't Talk to Me" list. Over two years ago, I wrote the following items as part of the list:

1) Enjoying Jay Leno
2) Saying sports scores low number first, like "lost 3 to 5"
3) Drinking Gatorade that isn't in the Holy Trinity of Red, Yellow, or Orange.
4) Wearing any kind of leather wrist jewelery that doesn't tell you the time.

The list continues to grow exponentially. Why is that? I'll let 19th Century scholar William Hazlitt explain the joy of hate from his lovely essay "On the Pleasures of Hating":

...without something to hate, we should lose the very spring of thought and action. Life would turn to a stagnant pool, were it not ruffled by jarring interests, the unruly passions, of men...Pure good soon grows insipid, wants variety and spirit...Love turns, with a little indulgence, to indifference or disgust: hatred alone is immortal.

Could not have said it better myself. Liking or loving things is boring. I fall in and out of love with things like particular songs all the time. It's cyclical. Hate, however, prevails. I can always find some time in my day to despise the Red Sox, dress pants, and/or broccoli. On that note, let's dive into a new feature focused entirely on scorn and bitterness. Think of it as a companion piece to the too long unused "Neck Punches and Butt Slaps" posts without any praise.

Pretty Much Don't Talk to Me If...

- You shop at a Co-op grocery store: For those unfamiliar, a Co-op is essentially a small local market owned and operated by people from the neighborhood. They generally pride themselves on offering locally grown and organic options over major brands in super markets. They just opened a Co-op on my block and after one visit, I now understand that whenever you see "locally grown" and "organic", you can just read that as "Overpriced horse manure". The prices in this place were outrageous. I'm being purposely ignorant here, but isn't all food somewhat 'organic'? If I'm grilling a piece of Purdue chicken instead of chicken deemed 'organic' that costs twice as much, how exactly am I harming myself? I'm sure I could spend a few minutes perusing the internet and find out all the benefits of eating organic, but that would involve putting effort into something I've already decided I hate. See how easy that is? I refuse to shop in any store that has a freezer section devoid of Hot Pockets. I haven't actually ate a Hot Pocket in over a year, but I find comfort in knowing they are an arms reach away. Furthermore, each item in the store had two prices that were different by about twenty percent. When I asked what that meant, I was told by a man draped in hemp that the lower prices were for those who paid the $100 membership fee. Hold on. You want to charge me for the privilege of paying outrageously high prices for organic Buffalo meat? Die in a fire (Note: Hmm. That might have been a good title for these posts). Add 'eating organic' to the list of things I consider myths along with:

1) Global warming
2) Second hand smoke statistics
3) 'Every vote counts'
4) Johnny Utah playing QB at Ohio State
5) Organized Religion

Mr. R

Live from Detention: It's Pandora's Box!

2011-02-17T15:30:00.000-05:00

Ah. Another Valentine's Day gone by filled with sweatpants, salted deli meats, and self pleasure. I REGRET NOTHING (Magary, 2007). Some quick updates before we get into the main topic:

- After a relatively calm year, the 7th grade had two expulsions in the last week. One was a long time coming and the other after a rather unprovoked in class attack. The latter I witnessed the tail end of just as the girl was delivering a savage front kick to a girl still in her chair. It immediately reminded me of the recent Anderson Silva knockout kick. Is it OK that I'm secretly happy that these things never happen in my class?

- After a 3 game losing streak including losses by two and four points, my basketball squad rebounded with two big wins the last two days. Playoffs in both of our leagues start in about two weeks. Stay tuned when I'm leaning heavily on cheap alcohol to comfort myself after an early playoff exit.

-Heading to Northern Virginia/ DC area this weekend that involves a Daytona 500 party on Sunday. Not sure what that entails, but I'm assuming (read: hoping) Busch Lights, hot pockets, and cut off jean shorts. I'm sure I will return with a story or six.

Now, to the main event. Facebook.

Everyone is well versed in the endless awkward joy that is Facebook. I recently found out a kid I went to High School with is a full fledged and proud Furry. If you told me in 1995 that I could go on the internets and within seconds know if a kid I teased in High School enjoyed intercourse while in full animal costumes, I would have called the police because who the hell says that kind of stuff to a 10 year old? But really, thank you Mark Zuckerberg. Thank you from the bottom of my blackened clogged heart. Another recent Facebook gem: I found out that a girl I grew up with is pregnant. Her status was something like:

OMG, I can't believe I'm having a baby with my best friend! This is the best news ever. I LOVE YOU!

At the same exact time, her baby daddy's status was:
Who has black ops or fifa 11 for ps3? I'm looking for some competition.

Man that makes me giggle.

Over the last year though, my Facebook usage has dwindled significantly. I have become more of a binge user where I will log-in once a week or so an just take in as many updates as possible before I want to throw up. And I was OK with that. That is, until a few weeks ago when everything I thought I knew about Facebook was turned upside down.

Ever since I started teaching, I've dealt with current and former student Facebook requests. I always declined and if it was a former student, I would send them a message just wishing them the best of luck and that they know where to find me if they need any help. Of course, it would have been much easier for them to ask for help through Facebook, but then I risked them finding pictures like this:

And that is one where I actually have pants on. So I would reject and go on with my day. That all changed when I ran into a former student after school a few weeks ago. She seemed really upset and we talked for a few minutes about what was going on. We parted ways and I gave her the standard and somewhat empty "You know where to find me if you ever want to talk" spiel and she went home. I remembered she was a girl who had sent me a number of friend requests that I always rejected. I thought that there had to be a way to keep in touch with these kids while protecting my secret identity as a reckless heathen. It then dawned on me that a teaching buddy of mine once told me how he created a separate Facebook account just for school. Genius! I immediately went to work and waited for the requests to filter in. I know have 25 former student friends and could spend literally HOURS a day digesting what it means to be a inner city black teenager on Facebook today. I will try to break it down as well as possible, but it is really something you have to experience first hand. I have gone as far as to give a number of people my log-in information to check it out for themselves. The response has been universally, "OH MY GOD". Here we go.

1) Names: No one goes by their actual government name. It is always some long and ridiculously spelled nickname. Some examples (with identifying part of name replaced):
- 'PreddieMami So and So'
- Juwanna 'Spoiledmuch' Jenkins
- Fran 'TheSmarticle"
- Young Funeral John Andrews
-Brian So Wavy
- Dan Flykidd Jones

You get the idea. The boys also have a habit of making adding 'Khalifa' as their last name I assume due to their reverence for Wiz Khalifa. That is always fun.

2) Spelling and Grammar: It took me a little while to grasp what exactly they were saying. I needed a Rosetta Stone in the form of a former student who would respond to wall posts in proper English to then go back and decipher the original message. Some examples:

- 'q', 'c', 'k', and 'g' can be used in replace of each other at any time. I think the q comes into play just because they like the look of it as a backwards 'g'.

-They use a lot of internet shorthand including:
-lol, lmao, hmu (hit me up), smh (shakin my head), w.e (whatever). It took me a little while to figure out SMH. I fear I am getting old.

-Here are some examples that took place in the middle of a Facebook status fight between two former female students. I'm embarrassed at how much I enjoyed it. Prepare yourselves. (Profanity)

Student 1: "imitee sitt andd lauqhh withh yeww | butt dontt qett dhaa qamee fuckedd up !! idontt dew fbook thuqqinqq butt yew nOt abOutt tahh sit heaa on fbook andd tawkk abOutt her !!!!! // comee corrrectttt ! * yew sed wadd yeww hadd tahh sayy about her 2 her facee ! soo sitt yhaa lil ass down some weaa #ttake it how yew want"

Retort by Student 2: W.ee den ann stopp postin shxxt on my wall faa yall wall qet somethinqq sweet okk relaxx calmm daat downn ann aint nobody fiqht my battless nearah felt some typee of waiee now b l a s a !

I especially like the ending on the second one of "now blasa!" I can picture the hand motion the girl would make as yelling 'blasa!' and I never not giggle at it.

3) Statuses: O the statuses. For starters, they almost always end with "hmu doe" or, in Engligh, "hit me up though." Example: "at lunch, hmu doe! wuzgoed!" Secondly, they almost always immediately 'like' their own status. I'm not sure why, but I get a lot of pleasure out of that. Lastly, there are a number of different games they play that involve someone else liking your status. For example, someone might write, "Yo lik dis status for a ratinq". That means whoever goes and 'likes' that status, the person whose status it is then has to go to that person's page and rate them from 1-10. It's genius. Another one of my favorites is where someone will just answer a seemingly random number of survey questions on a persons wall. I assume it is because the person liked their status. Like this one from a few days ago:

best feature ? " smile "
perfect match ? " me , im your wifey lols "
rate ? " 8 "
cheek , lips , neck ? " cheek "
do i ever see me & you toqether ? " idk "
......are we close or stranqers ? " close "
ride for you or diss you ? " ride "

Then both the poster and the person whose wall it is will 'like' the status. THIS GOES ON ALL DAY.

The best part is my stupid current students who don't have any privacy settings on their pages and have mutual friends with me (For the record, I don't accept request from any current students just former ones). I'm not NOT going to go and creep on their pages. I found a few statuses about some co-workers and used a status to tease one of my basketball players about his 'wifey'. That was a good time. I could foresee this becoming a weekly post entitled
"Adventures in Black Facebooking" (working and slightly racist title).

Time to let these kids go and TiMe 4 MaI afTeR SkOol nAp. HMU DOE!

Mr. R

The Happening

2011-02-11T16:11:00.001-05:00

(Note on the Note you will read shortly: After much debate I typed out this story on Tuesday. After giving it a re-read, I'm still not really sure it's even humorous or even enjoyable enough to warrant posting, but I'm going to do it anyway.)

No, no, no. I'm not referring to the awful Mark Wahlberg vehicle written by none other than M. Night Shyamalan. I speak of something far more cruel, sinister, and life altering. An event that has left me scarred both mentally and physically. Enjoy.

(Note: The following occurred on the Thursday night of my Christmas Break the day before New Year's Eve. This might help to explain why I was in bed by 11:30 on the aforementioned holiday. I had been debating whether or not to even retell this tale because it's so straight-forward absurd, it might not even be funny. There isn't even any room for creative license. O well.)

As far as Christmas vacations go, this year's break started like every other one I've had: Sleep, eat, drink. Lather, rinse, repeat. I had spent the bulk of my week in solitude seeing as how all my friends have grown-up jobs without 10 day vacations. By Thursday night I was getting a little stir crazy and knew I could rope a few people into going out. I started pestering early and often, eventually making plans to meet my friend Cadillac Don out for drinks. He started to dilly dally waiting for his girlfriend, as I paced my rectory room frothing at the mouth for some social interaction. At last, I could no longer take it and headed out for a meal for one, and enough drinks for 5.

After slowly working my way from beer, to booze, to shots, I went to meet Don and some other knuckleheads. We all parted ways around Midnight, at which point I took a cab straight back to the first bar I was at. I saddled up to my usual bar spot right in front of the giggling black DJ who constantly high-fives me while drinking martinis and yelling, "KnowhaI'msayin!!'" Things were looking up. On my way back from a bathroom trip, I bump right into a guy we will call Roy. I used to run into Roy at the few bars by the rectory and we got along seeing as how we both seemed to enjoy random weekday binge drinking. Here is where I tell you that Roy just so happens to be gay. This was never an issue for me, and if anything, made him even more enjoyable. He was from the South so when you combined his southern drawl with his high-pitched inflection, it made everything he said automatically 63% funnier. In all seriousness, he was a real nice guy who could shoot the shit about anything - except sports - and who I probably ran into 6-8 times in 2010 total.

When I bumped into Roy on this particular night, we had not seen each other in at least 6 months. As I went to greet him, it was immediately apparent we were in a two man race for the drunkest person in the bar. He introduced me to his date, Siegfried, who I'd estimate was 6'4. Imagine if The Rock and Johnny Weir had a baby. I spent the last hour or so pounding scotch and smoking cigarettes with Siegfried and Roy until the bar closed. Once the bar closed, Roy invited me back to his place because none of us wanted to stop drinking and he had some great scotch and this herbal tea... he said I just had to try. Roy lived right across the street so we all stumbled over. A number of scotch and teas later, I headed to the bathroom. While mostly unsuccessfully trying to pee in the toilet, it dawned on me just how messed up I was. I took a minute or two to wash my face in the mirror and steeled myself to return. The image I saw as soon as I exited the bathroom will stay with me forever. I opened the bathroom door to find Siegfriend and Roy, about ten feet away, making out with just their sweaters still on. They were both completely bottomless and getting rather handsy with each other. Before my brain can even register what I've just seen, Siegfried reaches out for my hand. In a panic, I ran for the door and straight into it as I failed to open it on the first try. Roy had asked us to take our shoes off, and in my hurried departure, I only managed to get one loafer back on. I got out of the apartment and was running with one shoe on through the ice with what seemed like Jesse Owens esque speed. Six plus hours of drinking and one loafered running on the ice do not mix very well. As I tried to turn a corner, I ate it hard and into something jagged. I got up, completely unaware of the giant rip in my jeans and limped back into the rectory. Once inside, I realized my thigh was bleeding profusely, threw out my undies, and immediately face planted onto my bed.

I woke up naked the next morning with my thigh stuck to the sheets where the blood from my wound had pooled. I spent the next 36 hours or so in bed and still have not ventured back to either bar where I have encountered Roy in the past. I have since found a new bar where I have already encountered a 9/11 conspiracy theorists and a guy who installed the "It's A Small World" ride at Disney Land. You can understand why my glass is always half empty in more ways than one.

Mr. R

Live from Detention: It's Pooping Where You Eat!

2011-02-10T15:09:00.002-05:00

I never really understood why this became the preferred saying regarding inter-office romance. I mean, I understand the idea behind the expression, but when you are like me and literally poop at your workplace as much as possible while also eating two of my three daily meals there, the analogy can be lost in translation.

My complete lack of experience in inter-office romances to this point could certainly be chalked up to lack of opportunities. Let's run through the three jobs I have ever held for a significant amount of time:

1) The Beans: When the members of the male staff aren't literally mentally retarded, the closest they have come to experiencing college is when they date raped a girl home over her freshman Christmas Break.

(Note: As I was typing this and talking to my buddy Wasalenko, a beaning veteran, on Gchat he hit me with this outrageous Email comparing the Rusty the box maker to Tom Cruise in Vanilla Sky. It has absolutely nothing to do with this particular post, but it's a long winded paragraph analogizing a mentally retarded man with a man who makes boxes for a living. See what I did there...Enjoy

Wasalanko (sic):

Ridiculous claim: a retarded guy I know is the real life version of Tom Cruise in Vanilla Sky. Gasp!!

I think I mentioned this to you one time, but as a summer job, I used to work at a vanilla bean warehouse (R's dad runs the place, and many others have worked there, including, but not limited to, buns and mevon). Anyways, there was a retarded guy (his name is Rusty) that works there, and still works there to this day. He's something like 35 now and has been working there since he was 18, so the day he retires, they will raise his jersey to the rafters, no joke. He's something of a legend there. So why am I telling you this? Here's the thing. He is stuck at the mental capacity of a 6 year old. Yes, he can drive a car and he holds a job, but he still lives with his parents and the concept of a cell phone is as foreign to him as a rubix cube is to monkey boy. On the outside, his life is easy. He LOVES the following things: going to work, the Mets, NASCAR races, bowling, balogna, sports talk radio, pizza and whatever his parents tell him. He is NEVER disappointed. A bad day to him means not having enough mustard on his balogna sammich. He is always happy, and although he knows he is not quite like others, he can't quite decipher why, and so he really isnt cognizant of his disabilities. Ignorance truly is bliss for him. At the same time, he will never experience intimacy and love, or even heartbreak for that matter; he will never "climb the corporate ladder," he'll never appreciate "irony" but Barney the dinosaur is like Eddie Murphy in his stand-up prime to him; and he almost certainly won't have kids, yet he will almost certainly never have to experience/comprehend the death of a child or a best friend. These concepts are out of the grasp of his understanding. For the rest of his life, he will remain the happiest 6 year old man-child and for all intents and purposes, will never know sadness or stress. Jealous much?

I tell this to you because I think besides the whole idea of whether Vanilla Sky was a dream, a coma state, or it was just the plot of Jason Lee's novel, etc., the real point of Vanilla Sky is what I mentioned about Rusty's life. Ignorance is bliss and in the end, Tom Cruise chose real love/heartbreak and tragedy/triumph over blissful ignorance/lucid dreams aka Wayne Rusty Keizer's life. THAT'S what its about (and THAT's why Roger Predactor is dead.) Essentially, Tom Crusie chose not to be an eternal retarded box maker named Rusty.

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

2) ESPN: Not only a near entire dude staff, but the kind of awful people that even if I was gay, I wouldn't have had sex a co-worker with using Sean Salisbury's penis. It was such a barren wasteland that I partially developed a crush on one of my managers who was a married squinty glasses wearing woman in her mid-30s.

3) School: Unlike the others, an almost all female staff. Unfortunately, they are either middle-aged Filipino women or nuns. No dice. Even if that wasn't the case, I've built up such a good reputation at school that to let any teacher took just a minor glimpse into what I'm actually like would ruin everything.

This contrasts with my regular love life which has failed not due to a lack of opportunities, but because of my unique contradictory blend of self-deprecation and elitist stance towards the general public. I understand how gross I am in a number of ways, but how could I not be a catch when there are other already (potentially) married people in the world green lighting Larry the Cable Guy a show on The History Channel? I find ways to justify my generally broke, drunk, and fat lifestyle on the grounds that I don't watch Two & A Half Men, read Twilight, or listen to The Black Eyed Peas. "I'm still better than you!" yelled the pale, sweaty, alone, and intoxicated man at the happy couple as he stuffed his gullet with onion rings.

My personal and work worlds started to collide with what seemed like an innocent text message on New Year's Eve. I was already asleep when I woke up to the sound of fireworks and a vibrating phone. I was inundated with the usual family and friends New Year's texts when one seemed out of place. It read, "Happy New Year Mr. R! It's Joan Ryan." Having no idea who Joan Ryan (note: pseudonym) was and too tired to conduct any research, I rolled back over to sleep without responding. About two weeks later the new aide who pulls kids out of class for extra help comes to my door like usual. As she leaves I say, "Thanks Ms. Ryan." and it hits me immediately. Could this new aide be the Joan Ryan from the New Year's text? The answer was obvious but I had no idea how she got my number. Up to this point in the school year our interactions had been nothing more than a polite "Hello" if we happened to cross paths and throwing kids at her when she came to my door twice a week. That is it. I can only assume she got it from the school snow day list. Still, I don't give it much thought and go about my day.

Fast forward another week. I'm most likely laying face first in bed when I get a text that reads, "Hey, it's Joan Ryan. Would you like to get coffee sometime?" My first reaction is confusion followed by soaring anxiety. To be frank, I had zero interest in this girl. For all I know she could have been the coolest person ever - more on that later - but I could not have been less attracted to her. I panic and even get a little angry that she is putting me in this situation. It would have been one thing if we flirted in school, but I don't see how she could have made this leap from the 6 words we shared over 4 months.

The best answer would have been just to lie and say I had a girlfriend or something, but in my panicked state I said sure we could get a drink sometime. I changed it to drink becAUse I'M A GROWN UP and don't do coffee with people. Coffee is something I do to poop and not strangely kids. I couldn't be less interested to sit on an awkward chaise lounge and drink coffee with some person while probably holding in a dump.

Anyways, here was my reasoning for not just immediately declining. I have a long and storied tradition of committing to things and then casually backing out. It's a terrible trait I know, but I'm not talking like serious stuff. Someone sends a Facebook invite for some event and I will just immediately say 'attending' and go about my day. All I ever want to do is avoid the pre-event crap from people for not going. Once the event is actually happening, people are too busy talking to those who actually came to bother me about not being there. Or I give the soft commit. Someone sends an email a few days in advance about going out for drinks. I will say something like "Yea. That sounds like a good idea, I don't have any plans." Nowhere in that statement did I commit to anything while simultaneously avoiding getting any slack for just coming out and saying "Nah." It's a great system.

I figured I could do the same thing here. Casually agree without ever fully committing to plans. My only real goal was to put off the truth and awkwardness that would follow for as long as possible. By texting her, "sounds good" right away, it would save me from a potential awkward confrontation for at least one more school day. This is clearly a very flawed plan. By keeping her at bay it would just make the eventual awkwardness that much worse. I've used the analogy before, but it's like when I would miss so much of a class in college that the thought of going back was way too awkward when I should have just faced the music and dirty looks two weeks earlier. That's how you get D minuses my friends. A grade I hear they don't like to give out (Callahan, 95).

Another week or two passes without any interaction. I breathe a sigh of relief and figure I'm off the hook. The letting down of my guard made what turn out to be one of the worst interactions of my life that much worse.

Back story: I believe it was a recent Tuesday afternoon and all of a sudden there was screams and crashing noises coming from across the hall. I run over to find two 7th grade girls brawling in the other classroom. They had already knocked their little Filipino teacher to the floor so I stepped into separate them. One of the great things about inner city girl fights is that since most of their hair is fake, it comes off when they pull it making it easier to break them apart. I get the girls apart and see Joan standing in the hall just watching the melee. The girls are sent to the office, I restore order, and leave for the day.

Here is the text transcript between Joan and I that took place. (Sic)

Joan: "Hey so do u get double pay now that ur security at school? (winky face)
Me: haha. I can only hope. First fight I've had to break up in a while.

Her: Now u deserve a drink! (winky face)
Me: Yea. I might be around this weekend for a drink if you aren't doing anything

(Yes, I know I opened the door, but I felt super awkward already and was still employing my soft commit back out defense)

Her: maybe something can be arranged. R u gonna show up this time lol (smiley face)

(I don't respond for 5 minutes because I was doing something)

Her: No answer huh Mr R LMAO (Smiley face)

Me: I was walking to the car. I never know what im doing any given day. Your guess is as good as mine.
Her: oh ok

(Now I felt like a dick because I gave her that kind of response, so I give in some more)

Me: But i'll see if i can fit you in my schedule
Her: So should I feel honored that ull try to fit me in? (winky face)

(skip her asking about school tomorrow)

Her: So y r u so shy round me?

(solid 20 minute pause because I don't know how to respond)

Her: (winky face)

(still haven't responded)

Her: I'm just kidding, I knoe ur a shy person in general (smiley face)
Me: I wouldn't say I'm shy. These students go nuts if I even smile at a female teacher. I'd call it being professional and not wanting to deal with the vultures.

Her: True but u can talk to me once in a while lol.

AND SCENE

For those keeping score at home, that is an astounding 7 emoticons on top of a number of lol and lmao. If I haven't already added it, let's go ahead and put 'if you use lol or lmao AT ALL let alone AFTER YOUR OWN UNFUNNY COMMENTS' on the 'pretty much don't talk to me' list.

The weekend rolls along and I had successfully avoided any communication until early Saturday evening. Here, I give you, the dramatic text conclusion to our relationship.

Her: what's going on
Me: At an anniversary party (note: no I wasn't). No plans

Her: Will u be able to talk later?
Me: I guess. Might be heading into NYC. Is something wrong?

Her: I just wanna knoe (note: spelling ew!) why u have agreed to meet me 3 times n have cancelled all 3 times.
Her: Please b honest

(Note: These are the three times she is counting: My initial sure to get let's get a drink, she invited me to her birthday party at some karaoke in passing one day at lunch, and the last text convo you just read.)

Me: I don't feel like we ever made specific plans to do anything. I'm sorry. And honestly I'm not looking to get involved with a co-worker. It could make things weird at school.
Her: Then why didn't you just say that at the start?

Me: I should have been more up front, but I felt awkward and didn't know how to respond. I should have handled it better.
Her: Well thanks for being honest now at least

Me: I apologize. I'm awful at stuff like this. I didn't wanna come across like a jerk when I should have just been straight forward.
Her: No maybe if the situation was different

(20 minute gap)

Her: it could have been something.

That last texts bears repeating "IT COULD HAVE BEEN SOMETHING." I don't know where she is getting these signals from, but that is just silly. As I've mentioned before, I routinely fall in love with complete strangers because that is half the fun of it. I would never ever act on such a fake relationship because I am well aware that said relationship has been entirely constructed in my head. I feel like she did the same thing here, but actually acted on it. Part of me respects the guts it probably takes to do something like that instead of just silently stalking a girl on an elliptical, but man was it weird. Of course, we ran into each other the following Monday in the faculty room. I could not have felt more uncomfortable if I had a front row seat to my grandmother performing The Vagina Monologues. I now switch over to the other side of the staircase away from her room just to avoid potentially making eye contact. So thank you Joan Ryan, for finally allowing me to understand the term "Don't poop where you eat."

Mr. R

Quantum Leap

2011-02-03T20:35:00.002-05:00

Let's just fast forward through the part where I make up an excuse for not writing in a month and then promise it won't happen again. The war is over. I lost (Lebowski, 98).

I'm having a few cocktails tonight as I try to un-see the 6th grade boobs I encountered when confiscating a student's cell phone in detention today. As I've said before, if I catch a student using a phone in class I treat it the same way I would them passing a note, which means I read everything that comes in. Unfortunately, one of those things was an unsolicited topless photo of one of my students. The boy had her in his phone as 'Some Girl' and from what I gathered from other texts, he was embarrassed they were hooking up and frequently telling her if she said anything he would never talk to her again. This brings us to an outrageous concept that is currently going on in my school. It's something called 'claiming'. Let me explain.

Being the basketball coach I'm privy to certain information that other teachers don't have. I spend an inordinate amount of time with these kids between practice, games, and driving them to and fro both. The amount of unsolicited gossip they give me is astonishing. Apparently most of my boys are dating multiple girls. HOWEVER, they only claim one. For example, one of my boys was making fun of another one for getting with a certain girl. His defense was simply, "Yea, but I don't claim her", and the issue was dropped. It's genius. You are allowed to hook up with as many girls as you want, attractive or otherwise, as long as you don't claim them. For example, if I ever got made fun of for a drunk hook-up, I would be able to say, "Yea but I don't claim her" and not get crap from anyone. It's like a sexual W-2 form where you list your dependents. Part of me is proud they have come up with a concept I fully plan on using for every deplorable drunk hook-up I have in the future, and the other part of me is ashamed of the part that is proud. That accurately sums up my life. A constant battle between being disgusted with myself and indifferent.

After I saw the picture I thought back to my own 6th grade self. I imagined telling the 6th grade version of me that the first time we would actually see 6th grade boobs would be when we were 25. He would have been so devastated. Let's run through how that conversation would have played out.

(Scene: It's around 1997. A young Mr. R is in all likelihood playing Sega Genesis or N64 and listening to Coolio's "I'll See You When You Get There" in sweatpants.)

(Flash of lights as I emerge in my middle school bedroom)

Young R: PLEASE DON'T RAPE ME!
Me: Relax pal. It's me/you.

Young R: I don't even know what that means. You are a fat man with a beard who just appeared in my room. Rape is the only thing on my mind.
Me: Relax. We are now 25 years old. I'm here to give you some important info about our future.

Young R: Phew. Ok. Besides for looking like the lead singer of Color Me Badd when I grow up, you have good news right?
Me: Ummm.... (awkward silence).

Young R: Shit...
Me: Well, we are in the popular clique throughout the rest of our school years.

Young R: Nice!
Me: We function primarily as comic relief and as friends to our friend's girlfriends over the phone.

Young R: Jesus. We are awful.
Me: Hey! We get to second base with Sharon (under the shirt over the bra) at the end of 8th grade!

Young R: Awesome! So she's my girlfriend?
Me: Not exactly. You think she is solely because you made out (with tongue!) twice. However, she ends up getting drunk and getting to third base down in Seaside Heights with some random kid from the next town over. You end up crying about it.

Young R: Shut. Up.
Me: No really. You legitimately cry.

Young R: Should I just sell all my Derek Jeter rookie cards and kill myself? This sounds awful.
Me: No! It gets better! You find out about gin.

Young R: You mean that stuff dad drinks and then mom yells at him when he won't get up for work the next morning?
Me: Yea. It's the cause and solution to every one of your problems from 2003-2011.

Young R: Alright. So any other advice?
Me: Yea. Buy a pair of jeans before High School.

Young R: But Dad wears sweatpants everyday and he seems happy.
Me: That's because he knows about gin.

Young R: Alright. Thanks for coming. I have to take this phone call. Elena is upset that Josh might have cheated on her and needs to talk to me about it.
Me: Were you listening to anything I said?

Young R: Of course not. I'm playing GoldenEye for N64.
Me: Well played.

SCENE

See you guys tomorrow.

Mr. R

Handicapped Stall: Wild Card Weekend!

2011-01-08T09:45:00.002-05:00

WILD CARD WEEKEND!

O what a wonderful day. I love the completely unrealistic high that comes with sticking to a new diet for the first week. I've already convinced myself I must have lost anywhere from 4-37 pounds. I'm so confident right now I might waltz right into Banana Republic and buy stuff without even trying it on.
/checks their return policy online

Today is my first binge day on the diet and I've been plotting it all week. The beauty of the binge day is that those times when I would normally be tempted to recklessly snack during the week, I just bookmarked those things for today. A rough day at school might normally require some Wendy's nuggets and a Frostie. Now I can have those things today without feeling bad about it. This diet is also purrfect for my bi-polar nature. I get to fluctuate between being very disciplined and reckless, which is what I normally do anyway. YAY! Let's get into the picks before my basketball game this afternoon. In an effort to accomplish one of my two resolutions, I'm benching one of my best players who got suspended yesterday and I might break a clipboard for good measure. WILD CARD!

(Lines are as of 9:56 AM)

Saturday Games:

New Orleans -10 vs. Seattle: It worries me a little that this line started at 10.5, I expected it to go up, and it did the opposite. New Orleans is super thin at RB, but I think I'm OK with Drew Brees throwing the ball 50 times. Aaron Schatz claimed this was one of the 3 biggest mismatches in Wild Card weekend history. The first two games were both won by the underdog. 3 team teasers beware.

Prediction: Saints 31 Seahawks 13

On an unrelated note, my school's failure to close or at least give us an early dismissal yesterday, put me in one of the sourest moods I've had as a teacher. I was fine until the kids came in and just started whining and whining and whining. Some were pretty much blaming me like I had made the decision for us to be in school. They went as far as to claim in homeroom class that they were 'strikin' from doing any work. I silently pulled up my grade book on the projector and gave them all zeros on their tests. I then sarcastically said, "Thanks guys. You just made my weekend a lot easier." I told them if they changed their minds by the time they got back for the test, I would erase them. They behaved.

The day ended on a high note when, after half my class left early due to snow, I just turned on Sandlot and we all watched for the last 45 minutes of school. One girl, right before the kid takes the Babe Ruth ball, exclaimed, "Uh uh, I know he ain't fixin to take dat collection ball!" I would pay to watch an inner city version of Mystery Science Theatre.

(My subconscious: But Mr. R, isn't that like every movie you see with black people in the theatre?)

That's racist subconscious!

Colts -2.5 vs. Jets: I love this line too much. I'm a little offended at how little respect the Colts are getting in a home playoff game. Mark Sanchez is still the Jets QB right? Furthermore, the Colts defense has played really well against some of the best RBs in the league the last few weeks. They ended up 10-6 and lost two games - vs. the Pats and Cowboys - where they had the ball for the winning drive before a Manning pick ended things. The same things are in play with every Colts game. If the Colts jump out to a lead and Sanchez has to pass with Freeney and Mathis gunning for him, the Colts win. I also appreciate Bill Simmons only being able to talk about the Colts in terms of which Patriots team they are. He has switched from calling them the 2006 Pats because of their sub par WRs, and last year's Patriots who got blown out by the Ravens in the Wild Card Round. BUT WHICH PATRIOTS TEAM ARE THE 2010 PATRIOTS?!

Prediction: Colts 23 Jets 17

Sunday Games:

Baltimore -3 vs. Kansas City: This game has the most upset potential to me. However, the Ravens are just the better team and more experienced in the playoffs. Furthermore, it goes against everything I stand for to bet on Todd Haley.

Prediction: Ravens 27 Chiefs 17

Eagles -2.5 vs. Packers: In honor of the best game of the weekend, I give you the best video on the internet:

I've changed my pick on this game no less than 14 times. Then I remembered even before Aaron Rodgers got hurt against the Lions they were getting shut down. Combined with the fact that they only put up 10 points last week against a Bears team with nothing to play for, and I'll take the Iggles.

Prediction: Eagles 34 Packers 30

Enjoy Wild Card Weekend humans.

Mr. R

Live from Detention: It's New Year's Brainwashing!

2011-01-06T14:32:00.003-05:00

Happy New Year! I am calling it right now: As of 2:33 PM on January the 6th, I will no longer be telling people "Happy New Year". I don't care about anyone enough to actually say it and mean it, so if I haven't seen you or had any other form of communication with you by now, you don't even get an empty "Happy New Year". Now let's discuss the broken logic surrounding the concept of New Years.

I've opined on my hatred of New Year's Eve before - and was in bed well before midnight this year- but that has nothing to do with my beef against what I will call the "New Year Way of Thinking". While I'm certianly a self degrading pessimistic jerk, I still don't buy into the "fresh start" aspect of New Year's and if anything think it holds people back. I'm an overweight 25 year old who gambles and drinks too much. You think I need any more ways to excuse my behavior? I've got a doctorate in self-justification at this point. All new year's does is give gluttonous vice-stricken semi-humans as myself easier ways to justify our destructive behavior when we are damn good at that in the first place. If you have a serious resolution on New Year's, it means you probably had a serious issue to address in August.

Case & Point: From the day after the Super Bowl until May-ish, I stuck to my New Year's diet and lost somewhere between 40 and 45 pounds. I then spent the whole summer to last weekend gaining it all back. There was never a point I tricked myself into believing my unhealthy behavior was acceptable, but the "New Year's" mentality makes it soooo much easier to say to yourself, "Why should I start a diet in September when I'm just going to get fat over the holidays and the new year is right around the corner. January 2nd! Yea! That's when I'll stop bathing in bleu cheese1" It's nonsense. Why start a diet in September? O, I don't know Mr. R. MAYBE BECAUSE YOU ARE ON THE AUSCHWITZ EXPRESS TO DIABETES. All that new year thinking did was set me back an extra 3-4 months. So screw you New Years.

(Note: Just go back and read everything I just wrote to get an idea of how easily I can place the blame of my behavior on anything but myself. I just spent 300+ words blaming a quasi made up concept on the fact I would drive to McDonald's at 11 PM on any given Wednesday. Coming to selected theaters this fall: Philip Seymour Hoffman as Mr. R in: Any Given Wednesday. Tagline: Please Drive Up)

Here, in no particular order, are my varied New Year's Resolutions:

- Get a haircut: I can't remember the last time I had one. I currently look like Justin Bieber if he swallowed Orson Welles.

- Don't buy any black jeans: Going strong since 1985!

- Spread at least 10 unfounded and absurd rumors about celebrities and/or friends. My last one: During my trip to Providence, we convinced a number of young Coeds that our friend Cookie Charles actually had a 2 year old son named Cameron after a one night stand with a community college bartender. He spent all of Friday night unaware of this and confused as to why he couldn't pay to strike up a conversation with a girl. It's the little things.

- Write a best man speech that results in at least one spitted out drink.

- Buy at least one more costume to go with my Admiral and Uncle Sam outfits.

- Teach my mother how to use a DVD player

- Wear matching socks

- Wash my khakis and dress pants before March

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

Now my two legitimate resolutions:

1) Take control of my basketball team: I've mentioned before how I have another coach this year. He's a really nice guy and we have been operating as essentially Co-Head Coaches up until this point with little to no friction. Primarily because I haven't ever said anything to him. Yesterday we had our first home game of the year against a team coached by a grad school buddy of mine. We played them last year and lost a tight game by 6 or so. They showed up yesterday and I knew from the start it was going to be ugly. The combination of how much better we got and worse they were made it something like 16-0 early in the first.

Now this immediately made me feel awkward. I've always been on the other side of those kind of blow outs in my coaching career and wanted to pull back the reins. I did end up going into a zone and telling them to stop fast breaking to work on our half court offense, and we still won by 40. The issue was he repeatedly tried to put back in the starters and tell them to push the ball. After the game he says to me, a little aggravated, "I don't think it does the kids any good to stop them from fast breaking or playing our defense." I told him frankly that I had been on the other end of a 38-2 loss and I wasn't here to embarrass anyone. He said something about being prepared for to play our rival (the team that beat us 38-2 and who has a terrible reputation for running up scores to the point where leagues don't want them), and I said, "I want to beat them, not be them." That ended our conversation.

Driving home I started to think more and more about our coaching dynamic and thought of the perfect analogy. I'm the Betty Draper to his Don Draper. I'm the one who is at home all day with the kids keeping them in line and playing the bad guy (i.e. their teacher). I make sure the house is clean and dinner is on the table when he gets home (i.e. fund raise, secure gym time, deal with the administration, and corral the kids into the gym after school to start practice). Then he comes home after everything has been done with ice cream cones for the kids and gets the hugs and kisses (i.e. comes to practice after I've spent the first 30 minutes yelling to get the kids focused).

Clearly, I've put myself in this awkward situation and it's on me to remedy it. So one of my main goals in the new year is to assert myself more and take charge. Check back in 3 weeks from now when I'm calling myself "assistant coach" R. Having a spine: You're doing it wrong.

2) Diet diet diet: Started my new renegade diet on Monday. I won't bore you with the details, but it's somewhat of a modified Atkin's Diet that I got from the book '4 Hour Body' by Tim Ferriss. I've thoroughly enjoyed the book and recommend it to anyone looking for some new diet ideas. The only awkward thing is that there is apparently a large section about improving sexual performance and says as much on the cover. I didn't buy the book for this section, but I couldn't help but think the clerk took some pity on this fat pale man buying a sex help book alone in a Border's on Christmas Eve.

The beauty of the diet is that you are required to binge eat every 6th day. The science behind it is that if a fat idiot like me who is used to so many calories a day, drops that amount a large percentage quickly, it messes with your metabolism and prevents fat loss. So, by eating whatever you want every 6th day, it apparently kick starts your metabolism and helps you lose even more fat. I'm no scientist, and have no idea if any of that is actually true, but when a diet tells me I can eat a bloomin' onion once every 6 days to help me lose weight, I'm on board.

But hey, if I fall off the wagon it's good to know 2012 is just around the corner!

Mr. R

Handicapped Stall: Week 16 Picks

2010-12-26T10:34:00.006-05:00

As I sit here switching between 'Teen Mom" and "Hookers: Saved", let's get some NFL picks down.

Carolina +14.5 vs. Pittsburgh: Whoops. It took about two Jimmy Clausen drop backs for me to regret this pick.

Dallas -7 vs. Arizona: Watching the Cowboys lose that game the way they did almost makes the 0-2 start worth it. Almost. This teen mom could be the worst person on the planet. My mom needs to be watching this show more to be reminded that me coming home at 16 covered in vomit pales in comparison to what these broads put their parents through.

Detroit +3.5 vs. Miami: Maybe it was just me, but I thought the NBA Christmas patches yesterday looked way too much like the stars the Nazis used to pin on the Jews.

I think David Stern is trying to send a message with the pending labor situation. However, I will say Hedo Turkoglu took it too far when he came out for warm-ups dressed like 'The Boy in the Striped Pajamas'.

Washington +6.5 vs. Jacksonville: I think Jacksonville is still hurting from failing to finally dethrone the Colts last week. More importantly, Rex Grossman is 1-0 against the spread this year and a force to be reckoned with.

St. Louis -2.5 vs. San Francisco: In this teen mom's intro, she said, "I even started my own blog!" like it was one of her better accomplishments. Have I been looking at this blog all wrong or is this girl just screwed? It's similar to the way teams in the NFC West get to say, "We are even in the NFL!" but are screwed come playoff time.

New England -7.5 vs. Buffalo: I won't bore you with a Christmas recap (gifts! booze! food!), but I have now officially stopped going to church on Christmas. I set the precedent last year and I'm officially out. I don't see the point. Am I supposed to treat religion like I did every college class? If I show up for the Mid-term (Easter) and Final (Christmas), everything will be fine? I'm not fooling anyone so why go through the sham? The correct answer is, "To make your mother happy." To which I respond, "Hey mom, you wanna watch these DVR'd episodes of "Teen Mom"?" I'm just going to keep on assuming the Big Guy (Girl? Spaghetti Monster? Enrico Palazzo?) and I are OK as long as I continue to not rape and pillage.

Jets +2.5 vs. Chicago: There was one Christmas moment that sums up the old crotchetiness of my grandmother perfectly. The one somewhat contentious issue surrouding my brother's pending nuptials has been their decision to not get married in a church. Grandma is none too pleased. It's a very generational thing. Her and my parents generation all got married in churches. It's just what people did. I get that. But, it's 2010 and not their wedding. She has no say in the matter, which means she will spend the months leading up to the wedding casually referencing her displeasure like she did last night.

As we were opening gifts, my brother wanted to show my grandma a gift his fiance got him. He walks over and says, "Grandma, you have to see this present she got me." To which grandma snarkily replied, "What is it? A Rosary?"

"In the red cornah, we have the defendin champion. Weighing in at 95 pounds and 85 years. Equal parts whiskey and cigarette smoke. It's theeeee Grapplin' Grudgehodin' Grandma! In the blue cornah, we have the the challengah. The Pendin Nuptial Pugilist, the 'Til Death or the Bell do you part' Brawlin' Bride! FIGHT!"

Baltimore -3.5 vs. Cleveland: I think I'm officially boycotting New Year's Eve this time around. I say this every year and always end up buying a last minute ticket to some open bar in New York City, but still. I'm out.
(Fast forward to 3 AM January 1st and I'm dressed like the New Year's baby soaked in gin.)

Kansas City -4 vs. Tennessee: Todd Haley is hogging the Sega Genesis your parents got both of you for Christmas.

I'm entirely too lazy to write out the rest of these picks, I think I'm going to get a good day drunk going today. Wish me luck.

Remaining Picks:

Tampa Bay -6 vs. Seattle

Indy -2.5 vs. Oakland

Houston -2.5 vs. Denver

Green Bay -3 vs. Giants

San Diego -8 vs. Cincinnati

Philadelphia -14 vs. Minnesota

Atlanta -2.5 vs. New Orleans

(took way too many favorites)

Enjoy the games

Mr. R

Handicapped Stall: Week 15 Picks

2010-12-19T11:29:00.003-05:00

Greetings from the burbs. I'm doing some dogsitting for the parentals and going through my usual routine of having must too much coffee, singing motown, and making football picks. Join me, won't you?

(Lines are as of 11:50 am from World Sports Exchange, which has the unfortunate URL of wsex.com, and home teams are in bold. I know my brother's fiance took a big sigh of relief when she saw that site in their history and visited it. If it was an adult site, it would have been too mainstream for his tastes anyways. He's into a weird genre of fetish pornography called 'Jurisprudence Porn'. It normally involves a woman naked and blindfolded like Lady Justice and repeatedly spanked with a rolled up copy of The Constitution. Moving on...)

St. Louis -3 vs. Kansas City: Twitter tells me Matt Cassel still hasn't been cleared to play which would mean Brodie Croyle is starting. That is all.

Houston +1 vs. Tennessee: No idea why the Titans are favored here. They have lost 6 straight and have looked awful. Say what you will about Houston, but at least they are in games before inventing new ways to lose.

Jacksonville +4.5 vs. Indy: Make or break game for my Colts. It appears that Austin Collie is back, which means The Blair White Project...see what I did there... won't be on the field a lot to shat all over the bed. Line is too high. 3 point Indy win please.

Carolina -2.5 vs. Arizona: Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you, the worst game of the year! In High School gym class, at the end of whatever sport we were playing for that month, our teacher would pair up the two worst teams in what he called 'The Pride Bowl'. It was embarrassing for all parties involved but exceedingly fun to watch a team full of gothic kids try to beat the National Honor Society kids in ultimate frisbee. The same can not be said about this game. I'd rather watch a naked silhouette of my grandmother dance in the window of a red light district strip club than watch a play of this game. I'd rather sit in the corner of a bar watching Jimmy Clausen repeatedly buy my younger sister Jaeger bombs than watch this game.

Cleveland +1 vs. Cincy: Normally dog sitting is an extremely easy task. A few quick walks, two meals a day, and then we both spend the rest of our time on the couch. However, my dog has gotten very crotchety in her old age. She has taken on the personality of an Irish grandmother who likes to complain for the sake of complaining. I think she is barking at me because she knows I went out and spent money on Dunkin Donuts' coffee when there was perfectly good coffee at home. I'm waiting for her to check the tag on my t-shirt to make sure it was made in America. What the hell do you want from me lady? You've been fed, pooped, and had your belly rubbed. I know after I have been fed, pooped, and properly rubbed down I have zero complaints. I won't stand for this.

Buffalo +5.5 vs. Miami: I was baffled earlier this week when I had to explain to my mother, an intelligent woman, the concept of a debit card. Every year I've bought my homeroom class a book for Christmas. This year I got them Shel Silverstein's Where the Sidewalk Ends. I decided to go with it after we read one of his poems that was in our reading book. We start reading as a class, and one of the boys starts giggling after each rhyming line. For example:

With bacon rinds and chicken bones,
drippy ends of ice cream cones

Boy" tehehehe. Dis junk go hard!"

repeat 20 times.

His giggling made me start to giggle, which then caused the whole class to start giggling after every line. It was one of those moments you can only experience as a teacher. Another one happened a few days later during a spelling test. The word was "astronomy" and after I said it, a girl asks "Like the food?" I was confused and ask, "You mean pastrami?" Which then led to a 3 minute tangent where all the kids discussed how much they enjoy pastrami.

Student: "Yea. Pastrami. Dat junk go in. Yo, when you put dat cheese and mustard on dat junk. Hmmmm. Damn."

Rest of class: "emmmhmmmmm"

Me: "NUMBER 13 BIOLOGY."

So my mom emails me asking if I ordered the books yet. I replied that I had just ordered them off of Amazon. She writes back, "How did you do that without a credit card?" I explained that these things called debit cards can be used on the interwebs just like credit cards. You see, I swore off credit cards a few years ago because of how reckless I was with them. Actually, that's not a fair statement. Saying I quit them would imply that I could actually get a credit card company to give me a card these days. I'm convinced that if I applied for a credit card, the company would mail me back a burned CD that said "Play immediately" on it. When I would put it in a stereo, it would just be an 80 minute loop of a laugh track from an old Seinfeld episode. It would be like saying I've sworn off women even though I couldn't get a date if I tried. In other news, I've sworn off women.

Philly +3 vs. NY Giants: My basketball team had a heartbreaking loss to our arch rival yesterday. Some might say they can't be our rival until we actually beat them, but the schools and teams definitely don't like each other. This is the team that beat us 38-2 last year. We ended up losing by 7 and was in the game the whole way. We played in their gym, and it was clear from the start we were not going to get a call. I had a starter foul out halfway through the first half and we were playing 8 minute running time quarters. The first half foul totals were something like 18 to 2 in their favor. My other coach was forced to sit for the remainder of the game for arguing. Midway through the third quarter the other team's coach and the ref had to be separated after screaming "Go eff yourself!" at each other for a solid 2 minutes. No one was ejected. My other coach got T'ed up late in the 4th quarter, which was completely unacceptable by him. There is nothing quite like inner city hoops.

Even though we lost, I was extremely proud of the way we played. We are scrappy as hell and I couldn't be happier. The kids played great defense and had no quit in them. The main problem we have now is making the transition from 'athletes' to 'basketball players'. I can't tell you how many unforced turnovers we had starting fast breaks. Kids just losing the ball or making awful passes. Once we get our offense worked out, we could be scary good. That is a prtety big 'if' at this point, but I'm thrilled with the direction we are headed in.

Dalls -9 vs. Washington: I feel like Skins fans are at the point where they should be checking Sunday afternoon movie times. Rex Grossman! There is a hilarious slate of QBs starting games today. I haven't seen a lineup this bad since I looked at Eddie Murphy's IMDB page for the 2000s.

Detroit +4.5 vs. Tampa Bay: A special eff you for Detroit for beating Green Bay last week 7-3 when I had teased the Packers to +3.5. Ooooo gambling. Aaron Rodgers concussions would be a sad story if he remembered anything that has happened in the last year. ESPN should start a channel where we watch recently concussed football players try to complete Sudoku puzzles.

New Orleans +2 vs. Baltimore: Last weekend I headed back to Providence with a bunch of knucklehead college friends. It deserves its own post, but it would entirely too incriminating. Let's just say that the ratio of time spent in gentlemen's club to time spent out of them was dangerously close to 1:1. Did I witness what I can only assume was a pimp slap a dancer across the face and then get forcibly thrown out of the club while screaming "I'll get you later!"? Perhaps.

Here is one nugget from the weekend that sums up the stupidity that is my life pretty well. While everyone was figuring out hotel rooms for the weekend, I was adamant about not wasting money on a hotel room when a friend's brother lived off campus and I could crash on his couch. It became a matter of principle. I was going back to Providence to pretend I was in college again, and what better way to do that than to slum it on an underclassman's dirty couch? Fast forward to 3 am Friday night. I leave a house party to get some requisite disgusting late night pizza. I return to the house 30 minutes later to find the house I'm supposed to be sleeping in locked and no one answering their phones. I wander around aimlessly for a while before settling on a couch on their front porch. No biggie, I thought. I will just sleep on this couch for a few hours and eventually get let inside. Well, around 6 AM and still shivering on the couch, I decided the joke was over. I got a cab to a hotel downtown and ponied up 150 bucks for a room. About twice what I would have paid to share a room for both nights. So you can actually put a price on some principles. Jackass

MUSICAL BREAK!

Atlanta -6.5 vs. Seattle: It's that time of the year when everyone starts releasing their "Best of 2010" lists. I hate this. I've written before about my paranoia over missing out on good music and the excessive downloading it leads to. Well, I'm back on that wagon. I read these lists and some band I have never heard of apparently has the 6th best CD of the year. I MUST HAVE IT. There is a better than 70% chance I will never even listen to it, but just knowing that I have Surfjan Stevens' latest album on my computer brings me a certain level of comfort. I assume it will play in my favor if I ever find myself in a hip Brooklyn area bar where I can only imagine most conversations start with, "So, how about that Arcade Fire?"

NY Jets +4 vs. Pittsburgh: Simply because the Jets need it more. Fast forward to Mark Sanchez trying to lead a drive down 10 in the 4th quarter and I will regret this pick.

Denver +7.5 vs. Oakland: Cue Pauly D voice: IT'S TEBOW TIMMMMEEEEEEE!!!! I'm excited to watch Tebow throw 3 interceptions, wipe off his face on a towel, and hand it to a woman in the crowd with his face imprinted on it. And Jesus wept...

New England -14 vs Green Bay: Matt Flynn vs. Tom Brady will go down in history as one of the greatest mismatches along side Taylor Ham v. Diet, Nap v. Grading, and Beer v. Self-control.

Chicago -9 vs. Minnesota: I have no idea who is starting for the Vikings and I don't care. They aren't serving booze in the stadium I can't get behind any team that would do that to their fans. Especially when your fans are Vikings fans. The 8th Amendment would like a word with you Minnesota. Wait, that was a line from a porno I found in my brother's closet.

Enjoy the games.

Mr. R

Live from Detention: It's I know it's 8 o'clock!!

2010-12-16T20:06:00.003-05:00

Good evening humans. Pardon me while I smoke a cigarette out this rectory window. Don't tell Yahweh. Why am I smoking cigarettes? Well, I hadn't drank in close to a week so I was feeling almost too good about things. It made me uncomfortable. What better way to bring myself back to Earth then to have a bunch of vodka cocktails and write a blog.

This end of week binging was brought about by the parent-teacher conferences I had tonight. You see, normally the way it works is that we don't have classes Friday but hold two sessions from 12-2 and 5-7 for parents to come in and get report cards. Apparently, some teachers complained about being at school late on Friday night, so they changed the schedule to accommodate people. Therefore, we had a half day today, then a parent session from 3-6 today, and a full day tomorrow. This made absolutely no sense. I don't know what these Filipino women were trying to do from 5-7 on a Friday that they couldn't do at 8, but because of it I was forced to stay at school until 6 today, and now deal with kids all day tomorrow who thought they were going to have the day off. I hate everyone.

The conferences themselves went as expected. Only half the parents showed up and they all loved me. HOWEVER. I did have my first ever awkward moment with a parent. One of my 8th graders who had failed miserably came in with his mom and uncle to talk. They were confused as to why he failed so I showed them my grade book where he had received a 6 and 13 on different tests. But then his mom asked me, "So when you guys realized that he was failing, why didn't you reach out to the parents to bring them in before this?" I had no answer. He's a kid I have once a day and he kept returning the failing tests so I assumed they knew how awful he was doing. Apparently he had been forging signatures the whole time and they were clueless. So now they were pissed that no one had contacted them to let them know he was in trouble. I didn't know what to say besides that I agreed they should have been alerted. It was super awkward. Compounded by the fact that the mom was super cute and I wanted to take her to a Ruth Chris Steakhouse. LET'S TALK ABOUT THIS OVER DINNER.

Aside from that, I did have a really good moment. One of the better 6th graders stopped by with her mother to talk about her grade. She had received an A+ and is one of my favorite students. I felt bad though because the 6th grade is so bad, I spend way too much time scolding people than commending the good students in class. It is definitely a common teacher issue. So now that this girl came with her mother I made a point of telling her how proud I was of her and the work she does. Her mother started crying I didn't know what to do. I got teary eyed myself but covered it up nicely. Once again it was all ruined by the fact that her mom was really cute and I might ask her out later. Let's move on to some NFL picks.

San Diego -10 @ San Fran: I was cured of my recent gambling renewal after that Colts game. HOWEVER. I think the Chargers win this game running away. SD 31 SF 17

See you guys later. I'm gonna order some Chinese food and keep drinking.

Mr. R

Live Diary Redemption: Colts-Titans Late 4th Quarter Panic

2010-12-09T23:01:00.003-05:00

Had to come back to document this potentially devastating non-cover. Currently 27-21 Colts.

11:01- First things first: Eff you Blair White. You have ZERO business being near that ball in the end zone. That is Reggie Wayne's patented red zone route. Ball up high near goal post. That is three plays where you have pooped the proverbial bed.

11:02- All I can think about is the Colts getting a FG here and then the Titans driving down for a late TD. 30-28 final. No cover. All that gambling money I had already spent will be gone.

11:03- Had to open my first beer for this.

11:04- don't throw a pick six don't throw a pick six don't throw a pick six

11:05- 4th and 1.... god. dammit.

11:06- Annnnndddd my dad is screaming at the TV. My mom is going to bed. It's like every Thursday of my childhood. Is this a Yankees game?

11:07- My father recently invested to become part owner of a small independent brewery. The fridge is full of Busch Light. That bodes well for his investment.

11:08- 4th & 1. Big decision here for the Titans. Think they have to punt. They are

11:10: Pierre GARCONNNNNN! Sending 5 dollars to Haiti ASAP.

11:12- How do you run out of bounds right there while simultaneously screwing up FG range. Egderrin James is shaking his head somewhere in a Miami strip club.

11:13- The old Colts fan in me is dreading this FG.

11:14- Lovely kick. Great for the Colts odds of winning. Not so good for my covering odds.

11:15- I can already see Chris Johnson galloping down the sideline for a meaningless TD and then Peyton kneeling for the 30-28 win. I hate gambling.

11:16- aasdasdjhiuehsdf. Pick that ball! That was apparently a "Marshall Faulk-like play" according to Matt Millen. I thought a 4 yard completion was a "Charles Rogers-like play" Matthew?

11:18- 2 minute warning

11:20- I have zero good feelings about this bet.

11:22- AHHHH LATE FLAG.... phewwwww... it's on the Titans.

11:23- This is comical. Colts jump offsides. Obvious free play. Colts pick. I'm gonna throw up.

11:25- They just mentioned potentially kicking a FG here and going onside. PLEASSSEEEEE.

11:25- Now they are doing this to me on purpose. Apparently Bironas was on the field and brought off.

11:26- Whimpering. Sweating.

11:27- KICK THE FIELD GOAL

11;28- KICK THE FIELD GOAL

11:28- OMG.

OMG

OMG

OMG

Don't look at me.

Mr. R

Live Diary Redemption: Colts-Titans 2nd Quarter

2010-12-09T21:03:00.004-05:00

9:04- I'm heading back to Providence this weekend with 12 or so lunatics I went to college with. My good friend's little brother is a junior there now. He is having a Christmas party at his off-campus house tomorrow night. I may or may not be that creepy 25 year old at a college party in a full Santa suit.

9:05- FUMMBLEEEEEEEE!!!

9:09- Looking good gentlemen...

9:10- I hate the goal line fade route. It's the shart of offensive plays. High risk, high reward. Especially when you are throwing to a guy named Blair White.

9:11- Maybe a shovel pass?

9:12- Dammit....(late flag) YES!

9:13- stop. running. the ball.

9:14- Viva el Haiti! 14-0
/not only counting money but already spent it

9:15- Come on JC Penney. Let's ugly up your models a little bit.

9:18- My father has been doing a crossword puzzle for the past hour vocalizing his inner monologue. Patricide is a viable option at this point. "What the.. T...R...E...so we need a H somewhere..."

9:21- Is this honestly the best we can do for a sideline reporter NFL network? Let's stop pretending we are going down to these women for their football insight. Just put them in fur bikinis already.

9:22- Watching Kerry Collins try to complete a 3rd & long when you have money on the other team must be what falling in love feels like.

9:26- Matt Millen talking about how the Colts running game doesn't have to be effective because they just need to preserve the 'threat of the run'. I assume perspective NFL GMs bring up the 'threat of hiring Matt Millen' during their interviews.

9:27- Jesus Christ my dad is the loudest sneezer in the world. If I react at all he gives me an immediate "Eff you." Family: No Choice

9:29- Ooooh. Reggie Wayne might have ran for a while if that pass was on target.

9:30- Know where the marker is. Grow up Blair White.

9:31- MUFFED PUNT AHHHHHHHHHHH! (ooohhhhhh)

9:34- It's almost halftime and I just remembered Randy Moss is on the Titans. That doesn't bode well for his season.

9:36- Colts can't go into the half only up 14-7 the way they have controlled the game thus far.

9:37- Joy to the world! It's third & long. Let Collins! Drop Back! To Paaaassssss!

9:38- And punt. And punt. the ballllll!

9:38-AHHHH! WOOAH! YEEEEEE! Insert weasel laugh from Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

9:40- 21-0
/money counted
//money spent
///thinking about future bets

9:41- My father, up 21-3 on his bet, is cursing about the terrible tackling of the Colts in this game. He didn't even know 1 of the teams in this game a half hour ago. Battles: You're not picking them right.

9:42- If I ever see a person in a customized NFL jersey that says something like 'Cool Brees', I will personally break those levees all over again. DOCUMENT THAT SPIKE LEE.

9:44- "That's why we brewed Coors Banquest with only thoroughbred horse urine. Coors Banquet: For when it's 3 am and your common law wife ain't home yet."

9:45- Monkey Boy, one of the idiots going up to Providence this weekend, just emailed our crew a picture of 3 cases of Four Loko. Thank god I got that life insurance business straightened out today.

9:50- Ok. Remain calm. If you told me 21-7 at the half before the game I would have been ecstatic.

9:51- Rob Bironas is like Sebastian Janikowski without all the date rape.

9:54- 3 TOs and 50 seconds left. Let's take two shots here and see what happens.

9:54- don't throw a pick six don't throw a pick six don't throw a pick six

9:57- 21-7 at the half. Time to get some grading done. See you on the other side.

Mr. R
(Pardon any grammatical errors. Too lazy to go back and check.)
-------------------
(Note: Decided I'm stopping at halftime. Going to be responsible and finish this grading. Plus, if the Colts end up losing I can claim it was all because I stopped doing the diary. Enjoy your night.)

Live Diary Redemption: Colts-Titans 1st Quarter

2010-12-09T20:24:00.003-05:00

8:27- Matt Millen still having a job in football would be like Josef Fritzl opening a day care center. "Drop off your daughter and leave with a grandson!"

8:30- Don't throw a pick six don't throw a pick six don't throw a pick six don't throw a pick six

8:31- PHEW

8:32- When they introduce the starters and give 2 sentence bios, I like to make up absurd facts about them in my head. "Cortland Finnegan starting at Safety. He attends Comic-Con every year in a Lara Croft costume.

8:33- If Tight Ends are routinely referred to as 'safety blankets' is Mark Chmura a rape whistle?

8:34- Why do the Colts even try to run anymore? All you ever hear them say is how they have to stay committed to the running game. Why? Is it going to magically start netting them more than 2 yards a rush. I thought insanity was defined as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. I don't continue to eat bacon and get angry when my pants don't fit. Give up the illusion.

8:37- Ugh. Punt coming. The Colts special teams are atrocious. But you have to respect a punter who is found soaking wet drunkenly asking strangers for rides at 2 am during the bye week.

8:38- I should probably start grading things during commercials.

8:39- Nah. I got plenty of time.

(Fast forward) 5:00 am tomorrow: Crap.

8:40- I'm not too terrified of Chris Johnson. He's not the kind of RB -between the tackles- that kills the Colts. Colts D is extremely fast on the perimeter. Famous last words.

8:41- Pat Angerer starting at linebacker. Set the cow tipping record while at Iowa.

8:42- Someone get Jeff Fisher a quart of milk.

8:43- Really Blair White? How could you not know batting the ball forward is a penalty. IT'S LIKE HE DOESN'T KNOW I HAVE MONEY ON THIS GAME.

8:44- iPad commercial. My Aunt has been pushing hard for the family to get my grandma an iPad for Christmas. For some reason, my family has spent over a decade trying to get my grandparents comfortable with new technology and failing miserably. First it was some email maching in the mid 90s so she didn't have to send letters. Well guess what. SHE LIKES TO SEND LETTERS. Then last year they got her a Kindle figuring she would be able to see big print better. It was never used. Now an iPad? Why? She's 85. She wants to smoke cigarettes, play solitaire and complain about stuff like the weather and things being too expensive. IT'S WHAT SHE DOES BEST. It's totally uncalled for. I don't think she wants to spend the twilight of her life learning how to use a touch screen computer. She has great grand kids she wants to see. She has made it this long without figuring it out. Could it potentially benefit her? Sure. But just let her be. I'm 25 years old and feel like I am all set with learning new things even at this age. I know if I started doing pilates or yoga it would probably be beneficial to me. I can tell you without question I will never do pilates or yoga. I will find a way to go on living without them like I have for the first 25. Just like gram will do the same without an iPad. Get her a coat and make sure she knows what a great deal you got and she will be ecstatic.

8:49- I have no stats to back this up, but I feel like the Colts have been settling for too many FGs in the Red Zone this year. Can't do that against a team with this bad of an offense. If the Colts get up 10, Freeney and Mathis will be foaming at the mouth chasing after that racist lush Kerry Collins. That's the kind of analysis you come here for.

8:51- Ah. End Zone Pass Interference. I imagine it's what being born into a wealthy family feels like. That makes no sense and all the sense in the world to me. Carry on.

8:53- TOUCHDOWN!!!
/counting money
//should have bet the first quarter line

8:54- In game poop.

8:59- My father, who has money on this game, just realized the Colts are playing the Titans and not the Texans. That's informative gambling!

9:00- O. Papa R is not pleased with that first down. Our first F bombs of the game.

9:02- I know no one cares about Fantasy football stories, but a few weeks ago I traded Kenny Britt and a hurt Pierre Thomas for Aaron Rodgers. Neither one of them had played until this week. That, my friends, is what we call trade rape.

9:03- Papa Johns: The Kay Jewelers of pizzerias.

End of 1.

Live Diary Redemption: Colts-Titans Pre-Game

2010-12-09T20:00:00.004-05:00

(Note: Each entry will be time stamped with the time of the night not of the quarter.)

8:01- Here are the Tron Legacy plot lines of the game. There aren't enough mushrooms in the world to make me pay 11.50 to see Tron Legacy.

8:02- MFK: Rich Eisen, Steve Mariucci, Deion Sanders. M: Rich Eisen, F: Deion, K: Mariucci and wear his skin as a suit.

8:03- Gratuitous Kurt Warner cameo. Somewhere Larry Fitzgerald gently weeps. "It should've been you Derek Anderson." I know I'm a few weeks late on this, but I thought the outrage over Derek Anderson "laughing" on the sideline was absurd. For starters, there was no way I would define what he did as a laugh. It was a smirk at best. Even so, why does that matter? I find some of the best times for a joke are when things are at their worst. That is why I kill at most wakes. But really. Is something a giant Samoan man says less funny because you are performing terribly? What if just as the whole bench got dead silent, Deuce Lutui casually lifted up on one cheek and let out a long high pitched fart. That still would have been funny on the Titanic. So leave Derek Anderson alone. He has put himself through enough.

8:08- Since Thanksgiving my torrid love affair with gambling has been renewed like never before. NFL, college football, NBA, college basketball. You name it, I've been gambling on it.
If I wasn't sitting alone right now I would bet anyone else in the room what kind of commercial would be next. I'm guessing Coors Light.

Tonight I have the Colts -3. I'm saying it isn't even close. Final Score: 27-13 Colts

8:09- DAMN! Kay Jewelers. Do people actually buy jewelery at places like Zales and Kay? The only time I ever did that was when I was like 8 and my brother and I for my mom some super cheesy 'Mom' heart shaped necklace. It cost 50 dollars. Maybe. It has certainly been thrown out at this point.

8:11- Whoa. Did Sterling Sharpe gain 17 pounds all in the face? He's a mustache, glasses, and 25 years away from being the black Wilford Brimley. Either that or he might slowly gaining weight to play Madea in Tyler Perry's next farce. There is a special place in hell for people who not only make terrible movies, but feel obligated to put their name in front of the title. It's super offensive. It would be like my fat ass releasing a series of workout videos titled Mr. R's 'Get in Shape' and was just an hour of watching me eat Pringles while I laid face first in bed.

8:16- I had to call my insurance provider today to update my information to stay insured for the upcoming year. I was told I automatically have 10 grand in Life Insurance and 20 grand if I get dismembered. I am now actually worth more dead or dismembered than alive.

/calls bookie
//buys bottle of Absinthe
///rents chainsaw

8:17- The Geico Gecko: The dead horse of advertising. I haven't seen something beaten this hard into the ground since Jeff Fisher killed that drifter for wearing a Vince Young jersey just outside of Nashville.

8:20- Not only have the Titans quit on Fisher, but he is apparently cheating on his mustache with a scrappy beard. Bad move Jeffrey.

8:23- The part of me that wants to live past 30 hates the part of me that kind of wants to order a Cheesy Bites pizza.

Game time.

Live Diary Redemption: Colts-Titans an Introduction

2010-12-09T19:50:00.003-05:00

Here we go bipeds. I refuse to live in a world where my Colts lose four games in a row. With Peyton Manning's performance the last three games, I've been having Vietnam-esque flashbacks to what it was like to be a late 90s Colts fan. Back then, Manning was always good for a few game ending, gut-wrenching, soul destroying INTs per year. There was always a thought in the back of my head with those teams that something awful was about to happen, and it normally did. Whether it was a pick, a Mike ^&%$!! Vaderjagt missed FG, or, oh, I don't know, maybe Jerome Bettis fumbling on the goal line and the one Colts player who picks it up happened to get stabbed in the leg by his wife the night before and wasn't quick enough to outrun a shoestring tackle from Ben 'I can sees yore no-no place pleaze?" Roethlisberger.

/breathes deeply
//sips drink

It sickens me. I refuse to go back to those times. I've come too far. I can already picture the Colts losing the last game to miss out on the playoffs and turning into a delusional Season 3 of LOST Jack Shepherd. WE HAVE TO GO BACK!

I will post an running diary entry for each quarter. Go Colts.

Mr. R

Live from Detention: It's....

2010-12-09T15:06:00.002-05:00

Sorry. No can do right meow. I know it's been a while. Between grades being due tomorrow, basketball 5 days a week, gambling, and my terrible weekend behavior, blogging just hasn't fit in. Also, this weekend I am returning to my old college stomping grounds of Providence, Rhode Island with about 15 guys, so I've been trying to get mentally prepared for that.

Tonight though, in an effort to change the Colts' momentum, I'll be breaking out a running diary. I will be at my parents' house, with my father and I having money on the game, and a few beers will be had as well. You haven't lived until you have heard my dad go nuts after a long first quarter 3rd down conversion when he has 50 bucks on a game. Til then.

Mr. R

P.S. I really need to pick my nose but there are too many kids in detention to pull it off.

Handicapped Stall: Week 12 Picks

2010-11-25T11:54:00.002-05:00

Oooo Thanksgiving. You glorious gluttonous bastard. Since Thanksgiving is a holiday for reflection on our blessings, so what better way to celebrate than with some bonus Neck Punches & Butt Slaps?

New England - 7 vs. Detroit: Butt Slap: Thanksgiving
Most people would rank Christmas as the number 1 holiday, but Thanksgiving should not be slept on... or should it? Tryptophan ZING! Here are the top reasons Turkey Day is a solid holiday 2 seed, if not the one:

- Engineered for excess: While all holidays err on the side of excess, no other one touches Thanksgiving in this respect. You are supposed to eat as much as possible then nap. It's as integral a part of the day as the turkey itself. It is a day free of judgment for sloth like behavior. I will pour gravy on everything and dare my mother to shoot me a dirty look. I'LL JOG TOMORROW WOMAN!

My first question when I got home was what kind of hors d'oeuvres would be served. The only acceptable answer to this question was pigs in a blanket. I was comforted when my mother said they were on the menu, but concerned about the numbers we were working with. She had 40 pigs for 12 people, meaning just a shade over a 3 ppm (pigs per mouth) average. That just won't do. Any Thanksgiving All-Star knows you want a 6 ppm minimum. That is why I went out this morning and bought another 40 pigs con blankets. If you don't think I'll be monitoring every other relative to see who doesn't meet their allotted 6 pigs and pick up their slack, then you never really knew me in the first place. Grandma only had 2 pigs, I got this.

-No church: Easter and Christmas are great, but they also involve going to Church. I don't know why people like me who never go to mass even bother on these two days like it is going to save our souls, but whatever. Moreover, if you are like me, you probably spent Christmas Eve drinking until 3 or 4 am, smoking cigarettes, and making insensitive jokes. 10:00 am Mass is the last place I want to be. I hate myself enough already. I don't need the extra guilt. Or the khakis.

-No presents: I enjoy getting/giving gifts as much as the next guy, but it's nice to not have to worry about it. No one likes faking enjoyment over a political book your Uncle gave you or whiffing entirely on a gift for someone else. Thanksgiving is a day to fully focus on eating, drinking, and sinning. Or what I normally call 'Tuesday'.

-Sports Gambling: Nothing brings the R family together like communal gambling. I haven't placed a bet since last Super Bowl, but I'm breaking that today baby! I mean, when you put 3 games on Thanksgiving, I'm pretty sure that is just God telling me I need to do a 3 team teaser. And that's just what I'm going to do. Tune in 2 months from now when I'm selling my teacher's edition textbooks to pay off a bookie. Fun!

Dalls +4 vs. New Orleans: Neck Punch: Thanksgiving Eve Drinking/Thanksgiving Day Parade/Black Friday Shopping

I lumped these three things together because I assume if you are the kind of person who enjoys one of these activities, you would like all three. And to that I say, pretty much don't talk to me. My hatred of humans has been well documented in this space. Why would I ever want to go to a crowded bar filled with people I haven't bothered to keep in touch with since High School? If I have to ask you what you have been up to lately, it means I don't even like you enough to casually stalk you on Facebook. I went to bed by 11:00 last night and could not be more prepared to start eating and drinking. Today is game day, not yesterday.

I will never love someone enough to attend a parade with or go Black Friday shopping for. It could be my mother's dying wish to take her to the Thanksgiving Day Parade and I'd immediately ask her what number 2 is. I assume the only people who would subject themselves to being trampled to death in line at Wal-Mart at 4:00 a.m. have hardcore bondage fetishes. This is one of the first matters that needs to be addressed in any relationship. I'll leave a girl at the altar if I find out she went shopping on Black Friday.

Bengals +10 vs. NY Jets: Shopping related Neck Punch: The baby clothing market.
A couple I am good friends just had a baby. For reasons unknown, they are completely OK with me being a part of said baby's life. It's baffling but wonderful. Clearly, my primary concerns are athletic in nature. I was thrilled to learn she was an extremely long baby. I'm already thinking about a basketball or volleyball career. It goes without saying that both arms and legs need to be worked equally to ensure she has no weaknesses on the hardwood. I try to text the parents once a week with valuable life advice to instill in her. Such things like, "Never bet the 'don't come' line at a craps table", or "If you don't know what to wear, a costume is always a good answer."

This Saturday, said baby is being Christened. I took to the internet to find a gift that would be inappropriate without being offensive, which is essentially my overall life mantra. I was horrified to find a number of web sites selling hipster infant clothing. We are talking skinny jeans for 3 month old babies. Is a Che Guevara onesie what your child has been missing? Well they are out there. Just as bad, is the amount of just unfunny baby clothing. If you put your baby in a "I'm a boob man" t-shirt, there is a better than 30% chance I will try to fart on your unsuspecting at every turn. In the end, I think I found something everyone can enjoy and I plan on putting a scratch off ticket in the card as well. Gotta get em hooked young.

Enjoy your Thanksgiving

Mr. R

Sample/Song for November 23rd

2010-11-23T07:36:00.005-05:00

Here's some strong advice to start your morning:

Man that's good.

I was off to a wonderful start this morning. Early gym session, found a non-wrinkled shirt to wear, what I think are clean underwear (passed the smell test..and by passed I mean got around a 78%), and my side-part is impeccable. A block away from school, I got Smuckered (read:jammed) behind a garbage truck making morning pick-ups. Since it was a one-way street, there was no escape. It took me 20 minutes to go that last block and I lost all my morning momentum in the process. It was the equivalent of a workout being interrupted by a dump. I can't even count how many times I've been cruising along on an elliptical like the middle aged divorcee that I am, and felt that unmistakable lower intestine flux that could only mean one thing. Of course it always happens like 4 minutes into the workout and I'll pretend I can keep it at bay for another 20 or so. But we all know that's a lie. Every minute feels like an hour. One false move and the tensile strength of those bike shorts is going to be truly tested. So I jump off to handle my business and it isn't even the gym poop itself that ruins the workout. It's the post poop pulling back up off sweaty undies.
/shivers

There is no recovering from that. That's where I'm at right now motivation wise. I just pulled up the proverbial sweaty undies.

In other news, Kanye West's new Cd is pretty doggone good. I give out 7 middle-class white kids in flat brim hats out of 10. The below track is my favorite on the album.

Mr. R

Sample: Smokey Robinson-Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow

Song: Kanye West-Devil in a New Dress

Handicapped Stall: Week 11 Picks

2010-11-21T11:24:00.002-05:00

Good morning, but I digress.

I have a ton of grading to do, so what better way to put that off than to drink a pot of coffee and give bad gambling advice. GO!
(Home teams in bold. Lines as of 11:00 am Sunday.)

Miami -1.5 vs. Chicago: Welp, that's a good start. I vastly underestimated the poopiness that is Tyler Thigpen. The Bears are the best bad team in the NFL for whatever that's worth. I fully expect the Dolphins' quarterbacks to have a successful post football career as an O-Town style boy band named 'Check Down'. Their first single, "Fourth & Love", will be huge in Japan.

Buffalo +4.5 vs. Cincy: Last Tuesday I took my first ever - what I've heard other teachers call - 'mental health day'. I wasn't sick or anything, but just felt like I needed a day to do some grading and get my act together in general. My brother immediately reminded me of the summer break I have every year, to which I retorted, "yea, but still..." It was a glorious day. I slept until 10 or so, had a good breakfast, and graded for a few hours. I'm already scheduling my next one for some time in March. The best part was my kids hated the sub so much that they were excited when I came back the next day. DON'T EVER TAKE ME FOR GRANTED CHILDREN.

Dallas -6 vs. Detroit: I ruined all the momentum I had from my day off by going out Wednesday night. It started out innocently enough with a casual dinner with my cousin. I then decided to go to a local watering hole for one or two night cap drinks. Well, the minute I walked into the bar, this scraggly black dude who was DJ-ing greeted me like we were best friends and asked me to make a playlist. I had not been to this bar in over 2 months and had very little recollection of knowing this man. He was incredible. The whole night he would just make outrageous claims and end every sentence with either "know what I'm sayin'?!" or a high pitched "WHAAAAAT?!". He would the start giggling and give me a high five. I have no idea how many things I agreed to, but I woke up the next morning with a party flyer in my pocket and a text from someone I put in my phone as "Black DJ" that read, "See you at the superheroes party next Friday. Don't bring any bitch you care about, cuz N#$@$ will steal her ass." I guess my Friday is all set.

Kansas City -9 vs. Arizona: I hate this pick. But I know if I take the points the Chiefs will win by 21 or more. It was a very bittersweet moment to watch a jackass like Josh McDaniels run up the score on an even bigger jackass like Todd Haley. I imagine I will feel the same way at my daughter's wedding. That's why I'll be naming her Delicatessen.
/has vasectomy just in case

Houston +6.5 vs. Jets: The Jets haven't exactly looked like world beaters the last month or so. Upset pick of the day sponsored by Vodka. Vodka: Allowing girls to regretfully hook up with me since 1999.

Jacksonville -1 vs. Cleveland: Two teams coming off emotional games with exact opposite results. Browns lay a turd...see what I did there... and the Jags get a little closer to just missing the playoffs and saving Handsome Jack Del Rio's job. Christmas Wish List: A calendar featuring Del Rio doing random construction work in only overalls.

Oakland +9 vs. Pittsburgh: My basketball team opened our season last weekend with mixed results. We won our first game by 15 and looked really good in the second half. We played great defense and got to the rim consistently. Of course, I allowed this one win to get my hopes way too high and started dreaming of winning the whole thing. I was quickly brought back to Earth when we lost our next two games by 20 points each. We got pressed and just fell apart. It was full blown "OUR PETS HEADS ARE FALLING OFF!" mode.

Baltimore -13 vs. Carolina: Three words: Brian St. Pierre. Little known fact: My brother dated Brian St. Pierre while they were both at Boston College. He has always said that St. Pierre was a very selfish lover. That does not bode well for his relationship with Steve Smith. Look for the Panthers' quarterback triumvirate to start their own band to rival the Dolphins. Jimmy Clausen could very well be Nick Carter. Have you ever seen the two of them in the same room?

Green Bay -3 vs. Minnesota: I can't wait to live in a world where Brad Childress isn't a head coach and Brett Favre doesn't play football. YES WE CAN!

Tennessee - 7 vs Washington: The Titans looked like crap against the Dolphins, who then got shut out by the Bears. Using a basic syllogism, Donovan McNabb is still washed up.

MUSICAL BREAK!

Atlanta -3 vs. St. Louis: On the recommendation of my friend Long Neck, I went to see Due Date yesterday. God was it bad. Really just a terrible 90 minutes I will never have back. Galifianakis had a few moments, but it was clearly a movie made for people who didn't know who he was before The Hangover. I wanted to be mad at my buddy for the recommendation, but then I realized I had no one to blame but myself. This is the same kid who once bought the movie Envy, (possibly the worst movie ever) and has seen a grand total of 13 movies in his life. It was the equivalent of taking relationship advice from Buffalo Bill. "First, make sure you have the right lotion. Then, wait outside the nearest Chipotle for chubby girls."

Tampa Bay +3.5 vs. San Francisco: This line makes no sense to me and I have no evidence to back up that claim. Some other uninformed opinions:

Global Warming is a myth.
I don't believe any statistics related to second hand smoke.
Any food consumed before 9 AM is good for you.
Jeans only need to be washed twice a year.

Seattle +11 vs. New Orleans: The Seahawks traded a 3rd Round pick for Charlie Whitehurst. I think they would take a handle of Popov Vodka and a package of Ham and Cheese Hot Pockets for him now. Buying low: You're doing it wrong.

Indianapolis +4 vs. New England: As usual, I have zero confidence in my Colts. On top of all their injuries, it's something like 35 degrees in Foxboro, which is terrible news for the Colts. However, Manning should eat up their questionable secondary and I hate the Patriots too much to pick them.

Phildelphia -3 vs. Giants: Michael Vick versus the Giants linebackers? Yes please. In other news, this video of a mongoloid Andy Reid as a child could be the best video on the internets. As my brother said, "Why are they in full pads? I don't know but I'm glad they are."

Denver +9.5 vs. San Diego: In class on Friday, my kids were doing some Spelling busy work. Out of nowhere, one of my boys says, "Things will never be the same." in the robot voice from one of those anti-smoking commercials. I lost it. That commercial has been one of my favorites for years and hearing this kid drop that line out of nowhere, I started gigging uncontrollably. Realizing he had hit pay dirt, he kept dropping it randomly throughout the day, and I would laugh every time. His quiz will no doubt get a 5 point bump because of this.

Enjoy the games.

Mr. R

The Inaugural Finger Wag Friday!

2010-11-19T06:58:00.004-05:00

Take it away Dikembe!

I'm really ashamed that it took me this long to start using GIFs on the Buffet. My most sincere apologies. I've discussed the concept of finger wag songs in the past. So from here on out, every Friday morning's post will start off with a song to get your finger wagging. Sorry about no detention post yesterday. I was helping kids with their Social Studies projects and couldn't find the right moment to say, "Hold on, I have to find a LOLCat picture real quick to go on my blog."

On an unrelated note, I am wearing such a hipster sweater to school today it's embarrassing. I look like a fat Captain Ahab. My white whale? MODERATION.
Basketball updates this weekend.

Wag Away.

Mr. R

Mcfadden & Whitehead: Ain't No Stopping Us Now

Sample/Song for November 12th

2010-11-12T07:32:00.002-05:00

(Cue Happy Days Theme)

Friday, half day, dress down day!
Friday, pay day, tests all day!
The coffee comes,
My stomach hums
Time to take a morning pooooooo!

What up humans. Today we are finally getting access to the online gradebooks that we were supposed to have in September. Since we were promised gradebooks through the school, I didn't bother to renew my subscription to the web site I used the past two years. Because our access kept getting pushed back, I now have grades all over the place: Excel sheets, notebooks, bar napkins, etc. You might have a problem when you pull out Spelling tests and there is a stain bar napkin paper clipped to the front of them.

I'm pumped for our first basketball game tonight, but don't know what to expect. We look pretty good in practice, but you can never underestimate the level of pants shitting that can occur when they first get pressed. I am going to predict that NO ONE will line up correctly for our first inbounds play except the actual inbounder. Moreover, one of my starters waited until yesterday to tell me can't come because he has football practice. We're talking about practice (Iverson, 2002)?

Happy Friday. Stay Brown

Mr. R

Sample: King Floyd- My Girl

Song- Fashawn- Boy Meets World

Don't Care

2010-11-11T20:17:00.002-05:00

I'm tired, full of pasta, and already in bed. Handicapped Stall and Neck Punches sometime over the weekend. My team has a season opening basketball tournament this weekend as well, so I'll be sure to report back on that.

Thursday Night Game: Atlanta -1 over Baltimore

Finish your review sheets and study for tomorrow's test. IT WON'T BE OPEN NOTE SO STOP ASKING.

Mr. R

Sample/Song for November 9th

2010-11-09T14:40:00.003-05:00

Since yesterday was the first day of the rest of my life (Take 782), I forced myself to the gym before school. It's hard enough to find gym motivation on any day, but now that it is dark from 4 PM on, I don't want to do anything except eat pasta by the pound and watch TV. By the time I get home from basketball practice it's windy and pitch black. I'm not supposed to put on pajama pants and eat two Hot Pockets? Someone let me know a place I can live where it feels like late September year round. Liquor stores being open on Sundays is a must.

By the power of Grayskull, I willed myself to the gym and immediately regretted my decision. Sometime during my 3 month hiatus, all the TVs in the cardio room no longer work so I was forced to...(swallows back vomit)... read. You would think a fitness club would have a decent magazine selection with options like Sports Illustrated or even a simple yet enjoyable Us Weekly, but no. After perusing the barren landscape, I opted for a Competitor Magazine. Reading about people running marathons while I sweated out an unmotivated 25 minutes on an elliptical machine was not exactly the confidence boost I was looking. I picked the magazine simply because the cover story made me giggle. It featured a one legged runner and the title:
"Two Kids, One Leg, NO LIMITS"

I spent the next 20 minutes silently smirking while I rearranged the title.

"Two legs, One Bed, NO EXERCISE"
"Two slices of bread, One pound of Virginia Ham, NO REGRETS"
"Two white russians, One morning, SNOW DAY"
"Two hours, One movie, NO GRADING"
"Two girls, One guy, NO PROBLEM"
"Two girls, One cup, NO APPETITE"

You get the idea.

Today was the always interesting School Picture Day. I'd like someone (read: not me), to track the increase in weave sales in Inner Cities around the beginning of September (back to school), and the day before Picture Day. The world hadn't seen this much fake hair since the last Villanueva family reunion. CURRENT EVENT ZINNGGGGG!

The girls did not disappoint with their freshly purchased hair-dos. I decided to spruce up my normal blazer and dress pant combo by actually wearing a tie. The way my students reacted you would have thought I was the end result of a Maury Povich makeover episode. For the record, the greatness of a Maury makeover episode is always overshadowed by the paternity test and lie detector episodes. For my money, the Maury episode pecking order goes:

- Paternity test
- Lie detector but ONLY if there is a sexy decoy in the green room involved. If not, dropping to 4th or 5th
- D. West scaring kids straight
- Makeover episodes
-"Is it a man or a woman?" A terrifying hour of television when you could find yourself being attracted to a drag queen.

Two men, one baby, NO FATHER.

Mr. R

Sample: Ace Spectrum- I Don't Want to Play Around

Song: Drake-Fancy

Handicapped Stall: Week 9 Picks

2010-11-07T09:53:00.008-05:00

No better way to start your Sunday than with some strong coffee induced white man dancing. We do all things in your name, patron saint of white man dancing, Mark Madsen.

Like most of you, I woke up to discover it was an hour earlier than I thought it was. I used this extra hour to drink coffee in my underpants and not take a shower. Really productive stuff. I took a few minutes to look over this week's slate of NFL games and realized, even more so than usual, I had zero idea how to make my picks. I know the Handicapped Stall has been absent for the past few weeks, and, honestly, you haven't missed anything but a handful of insensitive jokes on top of terrible picks. But this week my friends, I have so little faith in my picks that I feel it was only right to give you a chance to bet the opposite. Let's get into it.

(Note: Lines are as of 10:00 am and home team is in bold).
Buffalo +3 over Chicago: On Thursday, I was teaching about the caste system in India in my 6th grade class. As a warm-up exercise, I had them write a paragraph about what they wanted to be when they grow up. Then we had a conversation about how fortunate it is that we can set our own dreams and whether they thought it would be fair if they had to do what their parents did. This led into how the ancient caste system meant you always stayed in your same class and family business. I thought it was a decent intro. Just as I was about to move on with the lesson, a boy raised his hand and asked me, "Mr. R, what's your job?"

"What do you mean? I'm a teacher." I replied confused.
"No no. Like what's your REAL job? Like what you get paid to do?" he shot back.

I almost fell over. Yes, I teach for the free coffee and internet access. I moonlight as an ice road trucker. After holding back the urge to punch him in the neck, I calmly explained that teaching was in fact my real job. For reals. I actually chose to have to address these kinds of questions. Something tells me Chan Gailey is subjected to this line of questioning at a Buffalo area Denny's once a week. "An NFL coach? No, like your REAL job. That you are actually qualified to do."

San Diego - 3 over Houston: Phillip Rivers may be a great quarterback, but he definitely drives a jeep wrangler with a Dave Matthews CD always playing. LIVE AT RED ROCKS CHANGED MY LIFE.

Arizona +8 OVER Minnesota: Not sure why the Vikings are more than touchdown favorites over anyone. What's that? The Cardinals are starting Junior Floyd at quarterback? He has to be better than Max Hall. DREAMBOAT ALERT

After the 8th grade dance with Icebox, Junior's hands were anything but idle. KILLIN ITT!!

New Orleans -7 over Carolina: After a big win last week, Nawlins gets back on track. John Fox goes through 3 tins of skoal watching Matt Moore and/or Jimmy Clausen play quarterback. Steve Smith start openly smoking cigarettes and playing C-Lo on the sidelines by the 3rd quarter.

Detroit +5 over New York Jets: The only reason I consistently overvalue the Lions is because they seem like a team I would have drafted in a Madden Dynasty. I would always just take a bunch of young guys and turn them into studs. I would have totally had Jahvid Best winning the MVP by year 3. Probably never a good idea to gamble based on assumed video game success. It's still better than Hank Goldberg's system of throwing darts at dead hookers. "Got her in the left eye, give me the over in the Saints game."

Tampa Bay +8.5 over Atlanta: Tampa Bay is like the NFL team equivalent of my approach to college studying. I would skip class for a month straight (Like Tampa being awful for 3.5 quarters) and then pull two consecutive all nighters to study for the final and eke out a B (Josh Freeman leading a two minute drive to win 17-16). College: 35,000 dollars a year.

New England -4.5 over Cleveland: Eric Mangini is a proud graduate of the Dave Campo School of sideline incompetence. NO ONE folded their arms in disbelief better than Campo. I find it incredibly amusing how Campo has been getting casually demoted by the Cowboys over the past decade. He's going to be Jerry Jones food chewer in 2031.

Miami + 5 over Baltimore: This line should in the 2-3 point range. Why? Because this is a personal blog where I can make all the rash decisions and misinformed analysis I want. Norbit was a masterpiece. The existence of evolution is questionable at best. Taylor Ham: best breakfast meat or the only breakfast meat?

Musical intermission:

Seattle +7.5 over NY Giants: Seattle is great at home. The Giants are long overdue for a meltdown game that results in a NY Post headline like "Cough-lin the game up" of "Eli: Turnover on Downs Syndrome".

Oakland pk over Kansas City: Todd Haley ruined the ending of Seven for me. Todd Haley leaves his car running in Handicapped spots because, "He's just running in for a minute."

Philadelphia +3 over Indy: Michael Vick scares the bejesus out of me. And not in a 'he owns a rape stand' kind of way. Peyton Manning has done more for white wide receivers than Susan B. Anthony ever did for Women's Suffrage.

Green Bay -8 over Dallas: I have zero faith in this pick. Which is funny because Jon Kitna believes in a God who would allow him to routinely throw 3 picks a game.YAHWEH LIKES THE OVER.

Pittsburgh -5 over Cincy: Big Ben's Cincinnati-style chili farts will influence the outcome of this game one way or the other.

Enjoy your Sunday.

Mr. R

Live from Detention: It's Too Much Information!

2010-11-04T14:31:00.005-04:00

We have the magnificent seven here on this rainy detention Thursday. None of their offenses stick out except for one lovely 6th grader. She's a detention regular and if this was anything like the Subway Sub Club, she would be enjoying a free sammich of her choice right about meow.

There are many things about teaching I despise that have nothing to do with actually...well...teaching. I'm not sure if it's just my school, but I seem to be consumed with mundane clerical work as much as actual teaching and grading. Things like keeping track of kids' lunch money, shaking down kids for money they owe from buying notebooks, attendance records, and all things bathroom related. The stationery money is the worst because I frequently end up giving kids notebooks on credit. What am I supposed to do if a kid runs out of paper in the middle of a lesson? Not give him a new notebook because he doesn't have 85 cents? Then you have the kids who think it's a lay-away program and try to pay me in ten cent increments. I'm not a pair of boots at Against All Odds. I find myself having to scout the snack line at lunch for kids who claimed they didn't have money, and then steal their snack money. There I am, mid-conversation with another teacher, "Yea, I find if I give them extra...what the... I know that mother-jumper ain't on that snack line. O, he can't afford a notebook but he can get 3 bags of Fritos AND a chipwich. BETTAH HAVE MY MONEY." You think I enjoy preventing chubby 'Joey' from getting those three bags of Cool Ranch Doritos he wants to badly?

Another huge pet peeve of mine involves printing handouts. We currently don't have a working copier so I have to just print out multiple copies of everything. I always try to keep my handouts to one page because I'm lazy. The worst is when I will be typing something and it just hits that second page. I will go back and trim a sentence here or there to make it one page. HOWEVER, because I went onto that second page, Word now thinks it is a two page document unless I set it to print from 'page 1 to 1'. Of course at 7 a.m. I routinely forget to do this, which results in each handout being separated by a blank piece of paper I now have to sort out.

Let's get back to why this girl is here, and how it relates to the bathroom situation.

Every few weeks, some kid or kids will get caught doing something stupid in the bathroom and the principal will remind us to be strict about who we let go down there. How the hell I am supposed to know which kids are lying just to get out of class and which really have to go? The school has no system in place to track who went and when, so I'm sure there are kids going down there every class. I'd abuse the hell out of the system too if I was 13 and no one was safeguarding it. I don't have the time or patience to argue with a kid in the middle of a lesson over how badly they really have to use the bathroom. It's miserable. I usually err on the side of letting everyone go, but then Sally will have made plans to meet up with Johnny and make out down by the water fountain, and it is somehow my fault. The only time it is an obvious lie is when the same girl uses the "it's a girl problem' excuse for like a month straight. I don't care how evil you are by age 11, no female could survive leaking for that long.

So yesterday the 6th grade was actually being rather humane when all of a sudden I get hit with like 8 bathroom requests at once. I politely asked them to wait until we finished notes and then I would send a few kids down. I hear this girl whisper, "I gotta take a shit." to her friend and they both start to giggle. I decided to let it go because it had not caused a serious disruption like me calling her out on it would have. A minute later, she decides to announce for the whole class to hear, "Mr. R, I REALLY have to take a shit!" Fan, meet shit.

Mr. R

Shop til you...just stop

2010-11-02T21:34:00.005-04:00

/takes off glasses
//closes book
///sneaks bite of burrito thinking camera isn't on yet
////stares at audience

Good morning my fellow Americans. As a Social Studies teacher, I have a confession to make: I didn't vote yesterday. Just a day after discussing the lengths to which the Reconstruction Era South went to prevent black people from voting with my 8th graders, I was too lazy to drive 45 minutes back home to punch a few ballots.

Fun bigotry fact of the day: The concept of a grandfather clause originated in America during the 1870s to allow illiterate and poor white people to vote. They could bypass paying poll taxes or taking literacy tests as long as their grandfather had voted in a past election. I was always a big fan of the concept of being 'grandfathered in' to something before understanding it's origin. Being able to do something without any effort just because someone before me did it will always have a place near and dear to my lazy heart. It's nepotism at it's Travis Best. (Note: Jahvid Best hasn't done enough in his young career to warrant being part of a terrible Berman-esque pun on this personal blog. Step yo game up).

It wasn't just pure laziness that prevented me from getting home to vote. I had some extremely important shopping to do. For what you ask? Well, underpants and a belt. I've been relying on the same 10 dollar Burlington Coat Factory reversal belt for 2 years, and it finally died this weekend. I had already bought an eyeglass case screwdriver to fix the belt when the head would pop off (frequently), but I figured now it was time for a new one. In terms of undies, I found myself at the gym for the first time in months, and it wasn't until I went to shower that I was ashamed at how holey my undies were. The amount of available holes in the crotch would have been fine if I was an octupus, but as a real live boy it was embarrassing. I'm like a hoarder when it comes to underwear that should have been thrown out years ago. When you have thighs as wide as mine and you find a comfy pair of undies, you hold onto them like a floating dead body after the Titanic sank. After sorrowfully throwing out some really comfortable albeit breezy undies, I headed over to the finest men's store I knew of to procure the latest wares. Ralph Lauren? Brooks Brothers? Banana Republic? J. Crew? Of course not. I went to TJ Maxx.

My TJ Maxx shopping fits in with my theory of never buying high-end versions of certain products. Let's run em down:

1) Under garments: Socks, undies, undershirts, etc.
I will never buy any of the above mentioned items in less than packs of 3. It upsets me that I live in a world where people own cashmere socks that they have to get dry cleaned. At school today, I wore black Foot Locker athletic socks with my Cole Haan loafers. As a teacher who spends my whole day on my feet, I will spend good money on shoes, but I could care less about my socks. Someone will probably compare that to buying really expensive Italian bread and then filling it with Thumann's Bologna. To which I reply, I love bologna.

I have multiple friends who pay, I will assume, upwards of 20 dollars for Polo or Lacoste basic t-shirts. I have never in my life owned a single t-shirt that was not either bought from Salvation Army or given to me as a part of some give away. The vast majority of my undershirts have dried boogers on the sleeves of both shoulders. But since they go underneath nicer shirts, who cares? My mother, that's who.

2) Booze: I haven't reached the point in my alcoholism yet where I drink hard booze straight. Until then, as long as I'm making mixed drinks, I could not care less what kind of vodka is in my cocktail. I even purposely err on the side of plastic bottles because they make less noise when you are trying to walk into a rectory at 2 in the morning. So do dead hookers. I mean... let's just move on....

3) Los Blue Jeans: For those who don't habla espanol, that means 'Blue Jeans'. Now some of my more loyal followers might remember a time when I went out and bought 80+ dollar jeans and refute this claim. But that was an emergency going on a first date situation that doesn't apply to most situations. I spent my entire college career rotating between two pairs of jeans made by the brands 'Crossfire' and 'Oleg Cassini'. They cost me a grand total of 30 dollars. On an unrelated note: I always had disposable income for mozzarella sticks but never had a college girlfriend.

4) Endings that leave you thinking:

Mr. R

Sample/Song for October 28th

2010-10-28T19:45:00.003-04:00

Whoa Nelly Furtado. Two posts in one day? "To what do we owe the pleasure?", said Charlie Sheen after being woken up by the cops in his hotel room. I'm currently sitting in my grandparents beach house just because I needed a rectory break. I was going myrrh crazy... see what I did there? athankyou athankyou, I'll be here all week.

I also came here because I knew I needed a cocktail or two to write a speech. A speech you say? Why yes. My school has a big fundraiser tomorrow and, as the face of the franchise, they have asked me to say a few words. You would think someone who writes about his most embarrassing moments on the internet would not be nervous about such things. But I am. EXCEEDINGLY SO. I've never been a great public speaker, in planned settings that is. I have no problem telling an absolute stranger about how I would go gay for a permanent job as the Yankees first base coach, but give a scheduled talk? SWEAT, STUTTER, SHAKE. I think that was actually an R. Kelly song. In fact, while we are here, I have a confession to make. In my 7th grade public speaking class, I faked an asthma attack to get out of giving a speech because I had such a big crush on one girl and didn't want to embarrass myself. I don't think that is an option tomorrow.

With a speech of this nature, it's very hard to straddle the line between humor, seriousness, and cheesiness. I want to come across as genuine without sounding like I'm speaking from an ivory tower or being too slapstick. So, without further ado, here is the speech I just drafted sponsored by cheez-its and Jameson. Let me know what you think in the comments section. Obviously, any names that would identify my school have been removed, and the grammar should not been considered an issue as it is being spoken.

Good evening. I’m Mr. R and for the last 3 years I have been teaching 6^th, 7^th, and 8^th grade Social Studies at this school, as well as coaching the basketball team. On an unrelated note, I was very happy to hear this event was going to be open bar. I would once again like to thank everyone for coming tonight and showing their support for the school and the scholarship fund created in honor of Jane Doe. One of my fondest memories of Jane is from my interview at school some 2 plus years ago. I walked in a fresh- faced college kid in search of my first teaching job. I entered the school, resume in hand, suit and tie on. I was nervous and I’m sure it showed. My nerves were immediately put at ease when, at first glance, Jane made fun of me for being overdressed for the interview. “Oooo, look at this guy.” She said, giving a nod to Jane before letting out her signature laugh I would come to know and rely on so much over the next year. Almost immediately, I knew this school was the place I belonged. I’m still somewhat convinced they hired me purely based on my size and not my teaching prowess. Heck, I had no teaching prowess to speak of. I’m sure they panicked when they realized I was a big teddy bear, but I hope my work these past few years has put them at ease.

Above all else, tonight is about the students of this school. It’s been said countless times that ignorance is bliss. And it wasn’t until I started my career here that I realized how ignorantly blissful my childhood had been. Now, I mean this in the best possible way. My parents, just like their parents before them, worked extremely hard to make sure my brother and I never wanted for anything. I never had to worry about where my next meal was coming from or if I would have clean school clothes in the morning. My childhood worries were sports, girls, schoolwork and…well…girls. In that order. So there I found myself, 23 years old feeling almost ashamed of how ignorant I had been growing up, completely unaware of the plight of my peers just a short ride down the turnpike. But isn’t that the goal of every parent? To shoulder every burden of their child? I can only hope to be as good of a parent to my children as my parents were to me. It pains me greatly to see so many of our children today being punished for the mistakes of past generations. Almost immediately, my ignorance was transformed into a sense of responsibility to protect my students from the harsh world they were a product of.

And that is what an event like this one tonight is all about. Fulfilling our duty to protect our children. Whether you are here because you were as fortunate as me, and feel a need to give back, or maybe you were that child who escaped a bad situation, because of the love and support you received at a place like here. Either way, we are all here, united for a common goal that Jane has embodied for the better part of 50 years. Every child deserves a shot at a better tomorrow, so I want to thank you all for being here today.

Mr. R

Sample: The East St. Louis Gospelettes- Have Mercy On Me

Song: Atmosphere-Say Hey There

Live from Detention: It's Buyer's Remorse!

2010-10-28T14:29:00.005-04:00

How in the name of Bison Dele is it only Thursday. These last two weeks have been very odd. Last week seemed to go by too fast and I felt like I accomplished nothing on a personal or professional level. This week? Couldn't be going any slower with the same results. Hopefully next week will be juuuusssst right. Insert Goldilocks joke here. Speaking of bears, I've been using door entrances to scratch my massive back for years. I even do it in the classroom from time to time. Why it never dawned on me to come up with this invention years ago is quite upsetting. It's The Bear Scratch!

I will be very disappointed if I don't unwrap one of those on Christmas.

This week started off splendidly with a girl fight before homeroom even started. I'm out in the courtyard, sipping my coffee, and telling myself it's only a matter of time before I win the lottery, when I see two girls frantically pulling at each others' weaves. That is one of the benefits of dealing with girl fights in the inner city. The hair is detachable! I rushed over to separate them and shattered my coffee mug in the process. Livid and now covered in coffee, I let out an exasperated, "Really?! It's 8:20 on Monday!" I didn't know what else to say.

My Monday morning exasperation was even higher than usual due to my Saturday antics. This past Saturday was my group of friend's annual pilgrimage to The Hunt. For the uninformed, The Hunt is New Jersey's answer to The Preakness in Baltimore. Essentially thousands of people standing in an open field drinking from 8 am until whenever you wake up on a train, in jail, or in a gutter. With each passing year, our tailgate has gotten bigger and boozier, and this year was no exception. We reserved 4 spots, had speakers for the first time, and our usual spread of delicious food and too much alcohol. All in all, The Hunt is my Graceland. The way Vin Diesel felt for those few seconds in The Fast and the Furious, is how I feel at The Hunt. I try to live my life one Hunt at a time, and for those few hours, I'm free.

This year I upped the ante and rented a legitimate Uncle Sam costume with the works. My family has a long history of wearing costumes to every event that isn't Halloween, and I am trying to continue that tradition. Moreover, the Uncle Sam costume would allow me to creepily point at girls all day and say, "I Want You." with it only being moderately disturbing. I had a wardrobe malfunction before even getting there when my striped pants ripped during an attempt to stand on a train seat and lead my car in a stirring rendition of 'God Bless America'.

My other main duty was to be our tailgate DJ. This was both a gift and a curse. Obviously a gift because I had complete control over the music selection, but a curse because I was too lazy to make an actual playlist. That meant I spent the majority of my time at The Hunt making sure I had the next song ready to go. Overall, this played in my favor because I avoided many of the pitfalls in the crowd (i.e. shots, keg stands, dunk-a-roos) and stuck to beer the whole day while I concentrated on the tunes. I had one stretch of R. Kelly, DMX, and Ja Rule that brought the house down. You have never seen so many 25 year old suburban white people excited over rap music. Booze + hilarious 90s rap always equals a great time.

Eventually I grew weary of the drunken requests and reluctantly handed over the musical reins to Dr. Napkins. Now Dr. Napkins has a terrible track record with being in charge of music. He loves to play 'Name that tune/movie' while only playing 30 second snippets of songs and movie quotes he downloads. It's really awful. However, he also is the only man I know who has all the Top 40 dreg the masses love, and he ended up doing a wonderful job.

It was during my time away from DJ-ing that my day immediately got interesting. The Uncle Sam costume was a huge hit from the minute I arrived. As the day wore on, I was being bombarded with picture requests from strangers during any trip to the bathroom. Eventually I started charging cigarettes to pose for pictures. My wisest decision of the day. At one point I am back at our tailgate and a cute young lass taps me on the shoulder. I turn and she starts her sentence with, "You probably don't remember me but..." Let's pause here for a second. When you have down as many regrettable things as I have, there is not a more anxiety inducing start to a statement than that right there. I immediately started thinking of the horrible ways I may have accosted this poor girl and the apology I would have to spew. Much to my chagrin, she finished it with, "... we went to a Yankees game together this summer, you bit me on the shoulder, and walked out of my life forever." She seemed to think this was all very funny so I breathed a sigh of relief.

I immediately remembered the Yanks game in question, but was still cloudy on her. Memorial Day weekend I tagged along with a group of about 12 people - college friends and their friends - to a Saturday day game. We started drinking rather early and on the way to the Bronx I licked a Path Train pole top to bottom for 80 bucks. I wanted to buy a jersey so I figured, why not? Once the game started, I was approaching a Jordan level of Yankee Stadium behavior: you could only hope to contain me. I spent 7 innings in the bleachers pounding beers, buying cotton candy for Indians fans, and making dollar bets on balls and strikes with strangers around me. In fact, this was the game when A Rod hit a line drive right off the pitcher's head that made such a sickening sound all the air was sucked out of the stadium. I waited a tick, turned to my gambler partner, and said "15:1 on a dollar he's dead." The Cleveland fans in front of us were not pleased. At one point I just got up without saying good-bye, and left the stadium to board a train for the Jersey Shore.

It was clear I had left an impression on this girl now standing before me. We talk for two minutes and I wander off into the masses. A few minutes pass and she approaches me again. She asks, "Hey, I don't want to be weird, but I don't know many people here so would you mind hanging out with me?" I thought it was a little bit of a strange request, but who am I to turn down a cute girl in need of a pal. UNCLE SAM ABIDES. The usual awkward small talk transpires: The where, what, when, and who's no one really cares about. After a while, I'm starting to think this girl is a little into me. Seeing as how I read women as well as I do braille, I reached out to a girlfriend for a second opinion. She confirmed my suspicions and then the dancing began. It wasn't long before myself, dressed in full Uncle Sam garb, was awkwardly making out with this girl. Strangers in the midst of strangers. Kissing like I just got back from The Great War.

Truthfully, it was rather embarrassing public behavior. The kind that could only be fueled by booze and the atmosphere The Hunt creates. There was hand holding. O yea. (shivers)...Hand holding. At one point there was even an 'Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam!' chant started by some of my friends as they watched all this PDA go down.

As the day was winding down, we drunkenly spoke of meeting up in the future. Since my costume had no pockets, I had trusted my cell phone for the day to a lady friend I knew would keep it safe amid the chaos. Therefore, I gave her my number and claimed I would reach out to her in the near future. A LOVE LIKE THIS CAN'T BE LIMITED TO THE HUNT. I board a train home where I make friends with an elderly black woman who has a bottle of Vodka in her purse. She smelt of broken dreams and insanity. I wake up an hour later in an empty train at my destination.

Fast forward to the next day. I retrieve my phone from it's captor and power her on. I have a voice mail from a number I don't recognize and when I play it back, it is just loud background Hunt noise. Not positive, but thinking it's the girl from The Hunt, I shoot the number a text to the effect of "Hey, I had a missed call from this number, is this (insert girls name)?" I get zero response but almost an immediate call from a blocked number. When I answer the phone, the person hangs up immediately. I giggle to myself. I can only imagine the anxiety this girl had all day Sunday. She is super hungover and her friends are regaling her with stories of her making out with a portly fellow dressed as Uncle Sam. To make matters worse, a number she doesn't recognize then sends her a text trying to confirm her identity. I like to think her next step was to log onto Facebook and look me up. She then stares at her computer screen in disgust as picture after picture of me drinking in my underpants floods her screen. She backs away in horror... "No!! No!!! NOOO!!!!!!"

Hey. I'd rather be remorsefully bought than sold short.

More to come later.

Mr. R

The Week That Was

2010-10-25T20:47:00.007-04:00

What up y'all. Da Ticket Man is in da buildinnnnnngggg!!!! Let's just get right to it. The last week was quite the whirlwind. Considering I was 'forced' to go out and watch the Yankees Monday through Wednesday, it made for some interesting times. Recap...GO!

In my last entry, I mentioned how I was unfortunately committed to attend a Young Democrats event in New York City for a friend. The only reason I hadn't backed out was because this particular girl was one of my only friends I would have received considerable crap from for not attending. If you haven't realized yet, I kind of want to live my life like an environmentalist, but instead of limiting my carbon footprint, I want to limit my social footprint with other humans. Asking me to get on a train to New York City and mingle with a bunch of political strangers would be like asking an environmentalist to drive a BP sponsored Hummer cross country.

I arrived to my destination without a hitch, except for the fact that I was half an hour early. The 'security guard' wouldn't let me in so I was left to consider my options. Luckily (read: unluckily) for me, there just so happened to be a 'Gentleman's Club' right next door. Now, I've never been a fan of those kind of establishments from a sexual angle, but have always found them incredibly entertaining from a comical standpoint. To have an opportunity to waste 30 minutes or so in one while I was supposed to be at a political rally, well, that was just icing on the cake.

I entered to find the place entirely empty except for all the 'dancers' drinking at the bar. I sat down, ordered a beer, and waited for the inevitable awkward confrontation with a girl looking for a dance or a drink. Within 5 minutes, one such lady moseyed up to me looking all of 27 going on 65. On the 1-10 dancer scale where 1 is having a C-Section scar and 10 is I assume you are only doing this to pay for medical school, she was about a 4.8. I received the following intel during our meeting:

- Her name was 'Rain' and she had just moved to New York last year
- She was born and raised in Utah as a Mormon and moved to Vegas at 18 to get away
- She had a dance degree from UNLV. If you can think of a more useless degree, I'm all ears.
- She then spent the next few years 'dancing' her way from Vegas to New York City.

O, Rain. My sweet, innocent, pale-skinned, and wig-wearing Rain. I never know what to say to these women so I just nodded in agreement. It became obvious at one point she was waiting for me to buy her a drink, so I did just that. Of course, she ordered a martini and I left the place with a 50 plus dollar tab after two beers and one sorrowful martini. But knowing to never let my daughters major in dance was priceless.

I eventually made my way over to the event and had a decent time with one huge caveat. There were no TVs to watch the Yankees on. Check that. There were TVs, but when I asked the bartender if they could be turned on to watch the game he looked at me like I asked if his middle school aged daughter was single. I knew right away I would not be staying long. The place was filled with hipsters, but I was strongly drawn to one such hipster phenomenon. Apparently it has become popular for girls to wear over sized glasses out in public. Anytime I see this look, I can't help but think back to Janey from Not Another Teen Movie.

SURELY I CAN MAKE HER LOVE ME.

I left the event after an hour to catch the Yankees game with some other city friends. The only good thing that came from that was witnessing a college buddy of mine, on his birthday, take part in a savage public make-out session with a co-worker. Enjoy my photography skills:

Keep in mind that minutes before this photo he tried to trade a doorman for his tuxedo on the street. My friends: No one wants em.

Since the Yanks played at 4 on Wednesday, that meant I had to be at a bar by 3:30. I ended up drinking at my local watering hole until around 9 while I graded papers. When I handed them out the next day, I couldn't help but giggle at how sloppily I had scrawled praise on some of them.

I'm convinced the fact that I didn't go out Thursday led to me having terribly strange dreams. The one I remember started with me receiving a letter in the mail from my principal asking me to explain my recent arrest for...what for it... 'quick walking'. Apparently I had been caught walking too quickly through the streets and promptly arrested. The only other part of the dream I remember is my childhood friend Wasalenko moving to California, but for some reason taking my family dog with him. I woke up super pissed off that I might lose my job due to 'quick walking' and the fact that my friend stole my dog. In other news, I should stop drinking.

Hope your Monday was better than mine. I will have a seri0us weekend update and I promise it will involve myself making out with strangers. Til Then

Mr. R

Da Ticket Man Cometh

2010-10-19T13:55:00.005-04:00

Afternoon humans. I have students finishing up tests, so let's get a few updates out of the way. Quick sidenote: The mother of one of the kids staying just walked up three flights of stairs to talk to me, and was so out of breath I couldn't help but smirk a little. Once she said, "Lord have mercy, I got the asthma!" I nearly lost it.

School: After my career choice crisis two weeks ago, things have been running rather smoothly from a classroom management standpoint, with one serious exception. One of my 7th graders is realll close to being expelled. It's reached the point where we don't have the resources to give him the academic and emotional help he needs, and public school and counseling might be a better option. I feel bad because this kid has been dealt quite the crap sandwich at age 12, but he's single-handedly derailing my class. It's a clear cut example of the pitfalls of social promotion. Kid has no business even being in the 7th grade. It's one of the worst things I deal with as a teacher.

In other news, I'm slowly reining in the 6th grade. Last week I had my first of normally 2 or 3 legitimate screaming fits I will have a year. I routinely raise my voice but there is rarely if ever any anger behind it. It takes a special child to get me to reach Defcon 5 face slightly shaking, screaming, and sweating mad. There just so happens to be such a special girl in the 6th grade. She spends most of class talking and starting trouble with other students. She will just say something inappropriate or purposely mispronounce a word when reading to get a reaction. She's leading the league in detentions and it's not even close. What really gets to me is whenever I reprimand here - which is often - all she every says is, "O, my badddd." in a certain tone of voice where she clearly could care less. So the other day she did something like say someone else was on welfare and I hit it with a detention. She immediately gets this disgusted look on her face and says to no one in particular, "He must think he da ticket man or sumthin the way he always handin out dees detentions." I must have already been in a foul mood because I lost it. First on her and then on the entire class. I went on a 10 minute rant throwing out lines like,

"You think I became a teacher to babysit children?! NO!"
"I'm not your friend!"
"Keep battling and let's see who wins! I WILL!! EVERY! SINGLE! TIME! TRY ME!"
"You guys are a DISGRACE to this school!"
"I CAN'T SEE WITH THIS THING ON" (Bermanator, 1994).
(Fast forward to the 4:00 mark.)

I blacked out for a minute or two but when I finished, the silence was deafening. The kind of silence where it's like all the air had been sucked out of the room. No one would even look at me. Then I realized there was still 15 minutes left in class and tried to make an awkward segue with "... so the Nile River was really important..." Since then the class interruptions have been minimal so let's hope it was the first and the last time.

Basketball: I don't want to jinx things, but I may have a squad on my hands this year. After losing 38-2 last year to a Catholic school team made up of all public school kids, I've channeled my inner John Calipari and brought in two public school ringers. One kid is an athletic and tough guard like a 13 year old Dwyane Wade. Plays great D, has a decent shot, but gets to the rim with ease. The other kid is my personal hero. A 6'2" 8th grader with outside touch. I am smiling just reading back over that sentence. Add them to the 2 solid returning players and one transfer, and we are looking at our first winning season in history. Could we have a collapse directly related to my partying over Christmas Break? Highly likely. But we have a tournament coming up in three weeks I'm actually excited about.

Miscellaneous Notes: Last night I had Cool Ranch Doritos and vodka for dinner and accidentally spilled a drink on a stack of papers I was grading. I tried to air them out this morning on my classroom radiator, but a few were decently mangled. I told my kids it was water.

While riding my bike home after the Yanks game ($@$#%^@#!!??) last night, 'Your Body is a Wonderland' came on my song shuffle. It was listened to in its entirety.

At a teacher's workshop last week, I spaced out so hard that I started to blatantly pick my nose in a room full of 40 other people. It was one of those crusty side boogers too so I was really getting after it. I'm a failure of a human.

Over a month ago I committed to attend some political thing in NYC tonight my good friend is running. This would normally have signature Mr. R last minute back out written all over it, but this is the one girl who would hold a grudge if I didn't attend. The dress is 'cocktail attire', but since I do most of my drinking in a tall tee and underpants, I'm not really sure what that means. I could not be less excited to get on public transportation to talk to a bunch of politically involved strangers. I can already tell you what's going to happen. The open bar will end at this thing super early and I'll decide it's a good idea to meet up with some friends in the city for the Yankees game. AJ Burnett is pitching so that means I'll be bending spoons to do heroin with by the 4th inning. I can so vividly see myself gently swaying outside a New York City bar trying to light a cigarette and hail a cab home at 2 AM, it might as well have already happened.

Wish me luck.

Mr. R

Live from Detention: It's Standing Room Only!

2010-10-14T14:36:00.003-04:00

(Note: I started this post in detention, but was unable to finish before I dismissed the worst kids at 4:00. Some errands and dinner with the grandparents got in the way until now at 9:00 PM.)

(Second note: After I wrote that, I made a cocktail and got sidetracked catching up on TV shows and listening to tunes. It's now 11:20. Handicapped Stall will run tomorrow.)

Detention is so booked today I saw kids scalping tickets at recess. "Need one? Got One?" We have an astonishing 13 kids today. I'd have to check with Guinness, but it could be a new record. Which, as far as world records go, is as dubious an honor as being the guy with the world's longest fingernails. How does one even begin such a quest? I'm sure I've gone a solid 2-3 weeks without clipping my fingernails and only experienced slightly unacceptable growth. To wake up one day and just say "Eff it, I'm going for the nail record." shows equal parts indifference and commitment that hasn't been seen since Gene Hackman's role as Royal Tenenbaum.

Today's detention post is a slight departure from the norm. I'm bringing back the old Neck Punches and Butt Slaps format, and hope it will evolve back into it's own weekly post. For those who don't remember, things over the past week worthy of praise get an ole fashioned sports butt slap, and things like enjoying hiking get neck punches. This week, we have a lot of things that actually fall into both categories, which makes sense since nothing in life is entirely good. Half empty-ism at its finest. Things that fall into both categories will be referred to as combos and then further broken down.

Combo: Playoff Baseball
Of course playoff baseball deserves a hardy butt slap and chaw spit. The playoffs officially start for me after the first out when I can hear the player run through the bag with the extra mics they use. Moreover, playoff baseball always means it's the Fall, and that is wonderful in of itself. So why is this a combo? One reason: booze. Not having TV in the rectory means I need to watch these games either with friends, at bars, or with friends at bars. That means drinking for at least 4 hours no matter the outcome. It's either, "We won! Round on me!" or "$#%^& we lost! Jameson neat please." Different emotions, same terrible decision. I was 'forced' to go out last Tuesday-Thursday to watch sports. Which brings us to our next topic.

Combo: Bar Clientele
With the playoffs making me venture to bars all the time, I've had the opportunity to meet a myriad of strange bar folk. Let's go through the good. Last Tuesday, I went out to support a buddy's upstart brewery. I ended up meeting a friend of my grandfather's, who just so happened to be a baller. We talked about teaching and the start of basketball season. Out of nowhere he goes, "That's great. How much would it cost to sponsor your team?" and hands me his card. Not wanting to seem too desperate, I waited a week before shooting him an email. We are working out the final numbers, but he is going to be paying for most of not all of our league fees, uniforms, sweatshirts, and trophies. I may or may not also get myself a full team color sweatsuit with the name 'Crisis' sewed on the front.

Now the ugly. Thursday night. Game 2 of the Yanks series. I head to a bar with 5 moderately sized TVs to catch the game. Every TV in the bar is tuned into the game until some square rimmed glasses schmuck comes in and asks if he can change one to the nail-biting Nebraska-Kansas State game. Final Score: 48-13. Since I had a decent angle on two TVs, I allowed them to change the one right in front of me. However, I had grown accustomed to always looking at that TV, so whenever I looked away from the screen, that was the one I instinctively looked back up at. Sounds like a small thing, but it was miserable. Making matters worse, this guy was AWFUL. After I let them change the channel I jokingly said, "It's alright, this guy is just going to pay my tab." Most humans would at least let out an awkward laugh and acknowledge the joke. This guy let out a loud and serious "pfffffft" to let me know he would certainly not be doing that. He then spent the rest of the evening looking at his phone (I'm pretty sure it was a Blackberry prototype it was so big), drinking WATERS, and defending the BCS. Technological ineptitude aside, I won't stand for the last two. Why come to a bar to watch a game - that you aren't even watching intently - if you are going to drink water? Do that nonsense at home. Secondly, really? Defending the BCS? When I told one buddy about this he summed it up perfectly by saying, "Wait... people like that still exist?" It's the sports equivalent of not believing in evolution or dinosaurs. I'M LOOKING AT YOU CARL EVERETT. His go to line was every BCS moron's standard, "I'll take my playoff games every week thank you." Like if the NCAA enacted an eight team playoff coaches would start telling their teams they can afford to lose one game. It was either Aristotle or Herm Edwards who once said, "YOU PLAY. TO WIN. THE GAME." I hope that guy dies in a horrible urethra related accident.

Combo: Teacher Workshops
Would get a full Neck Punch, but they always mean a day off of school. However, they are mostly awful and useless. The biggest problem is that the people who run them clearly haven't taught in a classroom in 10-15 years, if ever. The buzz words in teaching right now are 'differentiated instruction' and 'cooperative learning'. Those are big words for giving kids options based on their learning styles/levels, and putting kids in groups. Don't get me wrong, those are both very good things to do, when done properly. Unfortunately, every workshop I go to tends to gloss over all the work that has to be done before any of these things can be accomplished. You know how in any movie or TV show that isn't based around the struggle for money, everyone is always well off? It's like the writers got lazy and just said, "Yea, he can afford a 3 bedroom apartment in New York City, expensive clothes, and to go out every night. Let's just move on." Well, teaching ain't Hollywood. You can't just walk into a classroom one day, throw kids in a group with different assignments and expect them to behave or get anything out of it. It would be like me starting off basketball practice teaching a complicated offensive set instead of dribbling and passing. Here is a sample activity for the last workshop I went to:

A Lesson on Probability:
- Place the students in groups of 3 making sure to group children at different learning levels.
- Give one student a gun
- Give the other student one bullet
-The other student has a pen and paper
-Their task is to play Russian Roulette and determine the odds of them blowing their heads off.
-When they are done, call up the janitor and regroup the survivors for a discussion. Scaffolding! YAY!

I am sure they exist, but I'd love for my school to once send me to a seminar simply titled something like: "What to teach before you teach." And don't get me started on the latest 'technology' seminar they sent me to. I'm 25 and grew up with computers. I know what the right click does on a mouse. There are two things I've mastered in my short time on Earth: computers and deli meats. But if Thumann's wants to invite me to a testing seminar, I'm available.

Butt Slap: Dinner with Gram and Pop
Tonight I had my bi-weekly or so dinner with the grandparents. Grams was feeling spunky so we actually ventured into the wild blue yonder. These days her meals are rather barren albeit ridiculous, so we decided to go to a local diner figuring it would have enough options to please her. I immediately knew it was the right choice when she noted how warm and quiet it was inside. The over/under on seat changes for dinner recently has been 3. We settled in a booth and our Latin waiter moseyed on over. Maybe it's just the era I group up in, but I'm fully acclimated to broken English at this point. I mean, I figure I have a doctorate in Ebonics at this point too. However, my grandmother was having none of it. It wasn't that she was being racist, she just wasn't being sensitive to the situation. Our waiter would mumble something in quasi-English and, instead of even asking him, she would turn to me with a pissed off expression and yell, "What did he say?!" It was slightly awkward but equally funny. These are the things you can get away with when you're 85 years old. I also get a huge kick out of her made up analogies. In the last few weeks she has used the expression, "mad as a wet hen" multiple times and I still have no idea what it means.

I have written before about how overly nice a person my grandfather is, but his performance at dinner tonight solidified things. We sat down at this run of the mill New Jersey Diner and he proceeded to not only order a Jameson on the rocks, (without even considering the possibility of them not selling booze) but also ordered Lobster Tails for dinner. Now I'm no food snob, but I would assume a place where you can get pancakes and omelets 24 hours a day is not the same place you would order a seafood entree. Therefore, that is the new "Grandfather Nicety Barometer." Does your grandfather have so much faith in humanity that he will blindly order lobster from a roadside New Jersey Diner without batting an eyelash? Then he's as nice as mine.

As most grandparents, mine are overly giving and I've gradually developed a way to casually take advantage of that fact without...well...taking advantage. Today is a perfect example. I was going to Bed Bath & Beyond to pick up a new beard trimmer and a allergenic bed cover (read: I'm allergic to my own sleeping). In what serves as a perfect example of what my life is like, I currently own two beard trimmers. I lost the charging cord to one and the adjustable head to the other, rendering them both useless. I was planning on buying a second pair of sheets since I will go months without changing the one set I have. Instead, I called my grandma to check in and said, "Hey grams, I'm looking to buy some sheets, you know where the best place to go would be?" She then yelled at me for spending any money and gave me two fresh pairs of sheets when I dropped them off after dinner. Having a closet full of sheets is such an adult thing. I own no more than one of anything. If I black out and lose my dress shoes I don't have a shoe rack of spares sitting around. But this problem has an easy fix.

(Fast forward to tomorrow on the phone)

"Hey grams, I'm looking to buy new dress shoes, do you know the best place to get them?"

Kiss your grandmothers. Friday is around the bend.

Mr. R

Sample/Song for October 14th

2010-10-14T07:36:00.002-04:00

In the words of Ric Flair, "WOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Too much coffee? Just enough? One more cup? OKAY.

I parlayed my test making - and meth - high from last night into an early morning shoot around session in the park. Since I'm currently in-between gym memberships - and pant sizes - the morning shoot around has become my preferred workout. So what if I just started it this week and had not worked out the previous 2 months. Two out of four days=routine. Using the same formula, I just got out of my after school fast food routine. Mr. R: Seesaw Living since 1985.

With the right music, I get way too into my alone shoot-arounds. I assume all the morning joggers watch in awe of my amazing repertoire of moves. My routine looks something like this:
Lay up, foul shot, elbow jumpers, fade away, reverse lay-up, step back 3, pull up jumper, full court lay up, DRY HEAVE! It probably just looks like a cankly fat dude chucking up 3s then audibly cursing when he has to walk off the court to get an airball, but at the right angle, I could totally be Jesus Shuttlesworth. And not just because my father pays for sex after long jail stints. I'M AFRAID TO LOVE YOU DAD.

Alright, time for the coffee exodus and homeroom. Be well.

Sample: Joe Simon- If

Song: Ken Starr ft. Talib Kweli- If

Motivation, thy name is, R

2010-10-13T21:31:00.004-04:00

In what has become a bi-monthly tradition, I made some empty promises a while back to get on a set writing schedule. One of those promises was to maintain a weekly writing schedule, and the other was to bring back the 'Neck Punches & Butt Slaps'. With 12 days between my last post and not a single Neck Punch Post since July 2009, consider the pain broughteth.

I'll be honest with you humans -an intriguing concept after that last paragraph- and let you know I had no desire to write this evening. I was content to lay around in sweats mindlessly watching TV shows, surfing the web, and playing games on my phone. It would have been a Domino's order and a homophobic comment on a YouTube video away from your average night in rural Indiana. But then something happened my friends. I was laying in bed doing all the aforementioned, when I realized I had to make my 6th grade Social Studies test for tomorrow. Normally I would have just said "Screw it, I'll wake up 30 minutes earlier tomorrow and bang it out." but for reasons unknown, I got out of bed and made it.

The resulting test may be my best school creation to date. It's got everything: Fill in the blank, short answer, thought questions, and a closing section with essays they can chose from. I slowly read it over in triumph. My kids are going to come in tomorrow, take the test, and give me a standing ovation for creating such a fair yet challenging assessment. Benjamin Bloom himself would rise from the grave to shower me with accolades. "It's your taxonomy now!" he would exclaim as the flesh steadily fell off his zombie corpse. In reality, the 6th graders will come in, take ten minutes to be quiet, and ask me a million questions like, "Do we have to write the questions?", "Is it open book?", "Do we have to write in complete sentences", and/or, the always great, "I don't get it." I will yell and sweat from under my eyes. "But let me have this moment in the sun." said R. Icarus as he sailed by mindlessly on gilded wings. Here is the movie poster for Icarus R: It's Kinda Hot in These Rhinos

(Editor's Note: If you don't get that reference watch this from the :30 mark)

I could not think of a better way to end this. Tomorrow, you will be getting 2 posts. 'Live from Detention!' in the form of Neck Punches and Butt Slaps, followed by a Handicapped Stall Post.

Go Forth

Mr. R

Sample/Song for October 1st

2010-10-01T08:04:00.002-04:00

Morning humans and welcome to October. My buddy the Outlaw must be salivating about this weather right about meow. All the man cares about is discovering what he calls "New, hot, and young chicks." around New York City. He's like a modern day conquistador trying to plant his flag in... well... anything. One of his favorite theories is that when it is rainy outside, only the girls who are really looking to party still go out. I can picture him on a subway right now. Casually listening to an iPod while he scouts the car for New Hot Youngs (NHYs) who won't be deterred by the rain. He doesn't care if the world is flat as long as the NHYs aren't. ZING!

It's Friday people. Think good thoughts.

Sample: Anita Baker- Sweet Love

Song: Drake ft. Phonte and Elzhi- Think Good Thoughts