I’m sure you all know about this case, but I don’t want to mention the name, although it is OBVIOUS if you live anywhere not under a rock. I was at work today when I realized something: I can potentially be a juror in a VERY high profile murder case. This is why I don’t want to mention names because I don’t want to jeopardize my juror chances. Ok, so what are the odds that I’m even going to get called. honestly, the odds are probably 12 in about 668,217. Also, the trial would be at least a year a way as nobody has even been charged in the crime. And somebody who has something to do with the trial or case would have to read my little blog from November 2007 (keep in mind they would have to go back to read this as they would be choosing jurors a year or more into the future) and disqualify me from the jury. Oh, and I was a juror on a trial some 4 years ago. So I’ve got a lot going against me even to be picked for jury duty at the same time the trial is going on. But nevertheless, since I live in the same county and a mere 10 minutes away from the suspect in a missing person’s case in IL. The guy is suspected of killing his much younger, prettier wife. If this is not a dead fucking giveaway as to who this is, than I can not help you. If you live anywhere in the Chicagoland area and you don’t know about this story, than you are probably catatonic. Also, there is another wife and mother missing from another nearby town, although I’m not 100% positive that its the same county.

Still, the potential exists that me or somebody I know could serve on either one of these trials. I would LOVE to serve on the one trial. After all, could you imagine the potential for a book deal? You could make TONS of money. And, it would be interesting as well. Honestly, as long as you work for a company who is kind enough to pay you while you are on jury dutyI just don’t agree with those people who do everything possible to avoid jury duty. See, I loved every minute of it. I didn’t have to be at the courthouse until 10am. then, we would get into the courtroom by 10:45am. We would then be in there listening to the testimony and evidence for a good hour. Then, its time for an hour and a half lunch which usually turned into 2 hours. After that, its another hour of trial time and then home by 3:fuckin:30. Honestly, does it get any easier than that? Plus, like I said, it was very interesting. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.

The only problem is that we need a body. See, I just can’t see either one of these cases getting to trial without a body. The circumstantial evidence would have to be pretty overwhelming for it to even go to a grand jury without a body. So we are a long way from that happening. Which is why I need the people in my area to search like hell for the bodies, even though they are more than likely never going to be found. Of course, I could not search for the bodies because that would automatically disqualify me from any jury. Still, if it is possible to openly campaign for jury duty, than consider me a candidate. I only wish there were a way that I could be a professional juror. Geez, what a life that would be. Ok, it probably would not be as easy as the trial I sat on, but it would have to be pretty damn close.

Have you guys heard this story:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071129/ap_on_re_us/oral_roberts_scandal

Seems the president of Oral Roberts University (hehehehe…………I said Oral. Is anybody else as juvenile as me to find it HILERIOUS that a “Christian college has the Oral in its title?)  was told by God on Thanksgiving to resign his post. See, at first God told him to deny the allegations before God flip flopped and told him to resign. He even goes on to say word for word what God told him. Hmmmm………who would of thought that God spoke such good English? I mean, I would have expected Latin. Still, I’m certain it was God that made the decision for him and not the lawsuit that he was facing. So now he is going to go back to his healing ministry. One of the things that I find funny about this is that in the eyes of his followers, he is a hero. Only in a naive Christian environment can a guy bilk MILLIONS from a financially struggling university and still be thought of as a hero. I mean, if he were gay, they would totally have his fucking ass for a Sunday post church mega brunch and God would stop carrying on conversations with him. But, swindle money? Its fine. I wonder what else God tells him? Did God tell him to buy the stable of horses like he was Noah building a motherfucking ark? And how about his daughter’s trip to the Bahamas? Did God tell her to go so that he can catch a glimpse of those hot ass chicks at Bahamas spring break? Don’t you find it funny that God doesn’t talk to these people when they are doing the shit they should not be doing? I mean where was his fucking God then, sleeping one off from that rough night at Sammy Haggar’s tequila bar in Mexico? If God is watching over you, talking to you and instructing you what to do, than what didn’t he stop you from fucking up in the first place? Why didn’t your God say “Listen here asshole, your bullshit university is drowning in debt, maybe now is not the best time to buy that 50 inch plasma with the school’s money!”. Ohhhhh, wait, I forgot, your God only talks to you when you need to find a way out of your self inflicted problems. During your next conversation with God, do the rest of the world a favor and tell Him that you and Pat Robertson have done enough of “His work” and you both can be relieved of your “Earthly duties.”

I think I’m going to grow half a beard and half a mustache. The way I see it, there has not been any male facial hair inventions since the soul patch. Shit, for all I know, it has been hundreds of years since the last innovation in facial grooming. Its about time that somebody steps up and does something different. Let’s face it, we guys don’t have much going for us. We don’t get to put on makeup and our hair usually betrays and leaves us at some point. So why not change shit up? Sure it sounds crazy now, but could you just imagine the looks on people’s faces when the first guy showed up with a soul patch and no other facial hair? I would bet that in some cultures he would have been stoned to death. See, I have never been a trend setter but have also never been one to follow the trends. So I probably should get somebody famous to go along with me. Maybe somebody with clout. Maybe somebody who is elderly and known for his facial hair. Somebody who is powerful and respected, yet humble enough to get people to follow him. Somebody who guys would want to be like. Wait! I got it! There is only one person that fits the bill: fuckin God! Yes, that’s it, God. That way, if it looks like shit, I can always say God told me to do it!

Wait. I just remembered. I’m an Atheist. So long half bearded face.

As you probably well know by now, every now and then I’m prone to extreme bouts of stupidity. For example, I once knowingly ate Parmesan Cheese that had been expired for a year and a half. And my stupidity takes no holidays, as evidenced by what I did Thanksgiving night. We were eating on some so called “fine China” and as happens during large meals, not all the food was hot when we sat down to eat. So, I filled up my plate and threw it in the microwave for a minute. As we were eating, I mentioned that I had warmed my food in the microwave to which somebody replied that there is metal on the end of the dishes and therefore should not go in the microwave for fear of a fire. The advice was duely noted but when in one ear and out the other. Although I was not actually still hungry, it was Thanksgiving and we had a lot of food. So, I put another spoonful of not only mashed potatoes but also of cheesy potatoes too. It was not much, so I only put it in there for about 30 seconds. After about 17 seconds, I stopped it and took the plate out. There was only one major problem. The plate was hotter than fuck. I didn’t want to drop it, so I held onto it for longer than I should have so that I could set it right back in the microwave instead of dropping it. Well, this not only burned my thumb, but left me with a nice little blister to go along with the burn. See what I mean, bouts of stupidity. I had been told not to put it in the damn microwave and I still did it. Shit, who knows what would have happened if I had kept it in the microwave for even just a few seconds longer. It reminded me of the time when I was at work and this guy I was friends with stuck an Arby’s roast beef, complete with foil wrapper, in the microwave at work. This resulted in a blue flame that started to grow from the inside of the microwave. The flame was extinguished by simply opening the microwave door. Unfortunately for me, there was no warning flame as to how fucking hot the plate was. Still, its not like I had a serious burn, it was a small blister which is almost gone by now. I’m more hurt by the fact that it was a stupid thing to do and that I never learn from doing stupid things.

Ahhhhh, stupidity. Its what keeps life entertaining.

With an extra day off work today, I had nothing to do. Usually with nothing to do on a day off work during the week, I go to the casino. I  was debating going, but decided “What the hell” and off I was to the Empress in Joliet. My thinking was that maybe I would try to sit in on a game of Texas Hold-Em. It was a cash game and not a tournament but I had to put my name on a waiting list. I had never played Hold-Em at a casino before, so I was a little bit intimidated. While I waited for my name to be called, I decided to dabble in video poker (lost only $10) and then some roulette. I realized that by playing, I might miss my name being called or might even blow the money that I had brought for poker, but that was a chance I was willing to take. I asked for $60 in chips and started playing. The buy-in for poker was $50, but I wanted to go into the game with more than that, so if I won at roulette, this would give me more money to play around with at poker. I started off well, and getting up well over a $100. My name still had not been called, so I played on. And lost what I won and was down to almost losing all that I started with. At this point, I thought I probably wasn’t going to get on the poker table, so I continued to play. This is when my luck turned. I won big on a couple of turns and won decent on a few more. Next thing I knew, I was probably up over $200. This is when I heard my name called. I debated, should I go and play poker and leave the good thing I had going here or should I try to keep up the luck on roulette? Of course, the other option was just leaving altogether and walking out a happy man. I ignored the call for my table and played on. Early on I had gotten married to the number 23, I kept betting on it hoping it would pay off. I figured with the Bears #23 Devin Hester scoring 2 tds yesterday, maybe it was lucky. It was, as that is what helped me come back. Next I got hitched to the number 36, this time even worse than 23. With each passing spin, it wouldn’t hit and I would keep going back, sometimes betting as much as $12 on the 36 and splitting $10 more on the 36 (splitting for those of you that don’t know, means that you can split between say, the 35 and the 36 or the 36 and 32 or split on the other 3 numbers around it) which sounds like an awful lot of money for one number, but you have to understand if it hit, the payout would be great, since a direct bet payout pays 36-1 (meaning, $1 bet on it would get me $36) and 18-1 on half splits. I would be sitting pretty if it would just come up. This would become the story of my afternoon, I kept waiting for it to come up. A couple of times, it came really close, the ball would land on the 36 for a split second before going to the next number. And it seemed to hit on all of the numbers around it. I felt like the damn 36 was taunting me. All I kept thinking was “FUCK YOU 36!!! I’M GONNA GET YOUR ASS!! YOU FUCKIN 36!!! JUST WAIT YOU MOTHERFUCKER”. Finally after sticking to that number for the better part of an hour, guess what happened? Just take a guess? Go ahead guess! That’s right people!!! I had run out of money!!! WOOOOHOOOO!!! Ok, so I didn’t run out of all my money, I just made a wise decision that I would not let myself lose anymore than $30, which is half of what I started with. See, a lot of people let things spin out of control. I remember when I used to go with Dave and Jt, they had no limits. This was wonderful when they won and may me want to try their method (although I never did) but boy, when they lost…………….fuck. We would be there for 5, 6 or 7 hours waiting on them. They were like a shooter in a basketball game. In basketball, when having an off night, a shooter will just keep on shooting until they get hot. Sometimes it works, sometimes they run out of clock before they get hot. Its the same thing with a gambler, except more dangerous. Most of you probably aren’t gamblers, so allow me to explain the gambling mentality.

I know gambling is not a gay thing at all, which makes me rare. Most gay guys can’t understand my love for gambling. Come to think of it, most straight people can’t understand it either. For me, its in my blood. My mother and her entire family, and I do mean entire, were all big gamblers. My long running joke is that my mom had a longtime gambling problem that she finally cured, unfortunately the cure for her was dying. Her brothers, all big gamblers. My Uncle Frank who is well into his 80s used to go to the riverboats in Joliet (now keep in mind, they haven’t always been around, only since about 1990) all the time. So did my Uncle Freddie. I heard stories about how he lost $7000 over the course of a month. Also, my Uncle Vito in California is around 86 and to this day still runs a tow truck company. Why? Because he has a gambling habit to support. So the gambling is in my blood. I love everything about it. Well, almost everything. I hate the losing. Still, although the gambling is in my blood, the addiction is not. I’ve got a good grasp on it. I refuse to let it spin out of control or own me. I always have in the back of my mind “How many hours will I have to work to make up for what I’m losing.” And I’ve always got limits. I don’t have an ATM card, so I can’t keep going to the ATM the way Jt and Dave did. I only bring what I think I can afford to lose. And although I may have been up $200 today, I was well in control; I could have left if I wanted to but instead had nothing else better to do, so why not try and turn a serious profit. For the record, I have never lost a lot of money gambling. Sure, in Vegas I lost a ton, but that was Vegas and I have only been there once. Out here, I have never lost a lot. And I bet on everything. I play cards with friends. I love to go to the horse track and OTB (although, I haven’t gone in years). I’m in a football pool. There is fantasy sports. Shit, Dave and I even have a $1000 bet on who will live longer. To be fair though, I don’t ever expect Kelli to give me $1000 after Dave dies, but just in case I have switched Dave’s filter cigarettes for non filtered. Dave and I once bet on whose meal would come last among the 24 of us at X-Mas Eve breakfast last year.

Still, let me give you the mentality of a gambler. And although I’m not a high roller in the least and am pretty small time, this mentality holds true for every gambler, big or small. First of all, its the lure. The lure of the jackpot. Every gambler has in their head the vision of them winning big. Hell, most of us even know how we will spend the money or react when we win. Notice I said “when we will.” Because for a gambler, its only a matter of time until we win. Even if it takes years. We are convinced there will be a payoff and it will be huge, even though deep down, we know its never going to come. Then there is the rush. The rush of not only winning, but losing. The rush of getting close. Its hard to explain the feeling I got today when that tiny damn ball spun around and almost hit on that 36 when I had a stack on there. Its the same thing with slots, when you see those bars line up for a potential huge payoff. Slots you can win the most on the quickest. With roulette and blackjack, it can take hours to build up a huge winnings, even though you can lose it much quicker than that. With betting on the ponies, you have that same rush. With poker, its more of a slow build-up to the rush. If you are good enough to be one of the last 2 players standing, the rush of every potential game winning hand is huge. I’m not kidding when I say that when I have won or almost won big in any game of gambling or on any bet, there is an actual adrenaline rush that I get. There really is no feeling like it. Dave, Jt and I one had a long conversation about whether we would want to win $5000 or have sex. Like all gamblers, we went with the $5000. Sound crazy? Well, the $5000 will last longer and is much harder to get. Plus, there is that rush. And the walking out of their with this sense of arrogance that you just committed highway robbery. There is no feeling in the world  like it. With casino gambling, the house has such a huge advantage and the odds are stacked greatly against you. Of course, you know this going in. You know that you have the word “SUCKER ” plastered across your entire body. Should you actually come out ahead, it is such a special feeling.

Then there is the competitive factor. There is a reason why so many athletes love to gamble. Like them, gamblers love to compete. It goes hand in hand with the rush and the lure. For some gamblers, its not even about the damn money, its just the beating somebody at something. To be the best, even if it is for just one hand is a natural high. With a game like poker, its a mental thing. To be able to mentally dominate your opponent in a way you can’t anywhere else. You outsmart them and can get paid for it. What an ego boost.

You may disagree with everything that I’m saying. You might think it is crazy or unreasonable. The reasoning behind gambling might be senseless to you. But, you won’t find a single gambler, amateur or professional, small gambler or high roller, who disagrees with me.

It only happens every 4 or 5 years, but today, my 2 favorite football teams played each other, the Broncos at the Bears. And what a game it was, filled with big plays, an exciting comeback and a Bears win in overtime. As far as the Bears go, it was their most exciting game of the year thus far. I’m just hoping that the Bears can use this game as a springboard back to respectability and maybe even a playoff spot, although I’m not holding my breath. As for my favorite basketball team, well, that is another story. The Bulls just suck right now, there is really nothing else I can say about it.

I’m on this committee at work in which we raise money the whole year to buy shit for people at Christmas. Yesterday, I had the privilege to do shopping for 2 different families. Now, I always thought it was only for kids so I was quite surprised when I got a slip for an 86 year old man and a 56 year old female. And from another family, a 4 year old girl. I had to buy clothes for all 3 along with toys for the girl. I don’t get to meet these people or even see pictures of them, all I’m given is a name, age, and clothes size. The lady is…………..let’s see, how can I put it nicely? Uhhhhh………….rather large. Ok, not just large, but like mega large. Being a small guy myself, I don’t know what it is like to have to buy clothes for somebody who is bigger. That being said, being small, its sometimes hard to find sizes for me, however, it wasn’t nearly as hard as it was to find a size for this lady. And I know she is poor and poor people can’t always afford healthy food because for some crazy fucking reason, healthy food costs a lot more money than cheap food. But even so, you don’t have to have money to keep yourself healthy and thin. Shit, it doesn’t cost money to go for walks or even exercise in your house. I don’t want to come off as mean or cold, but there is always something you can do to stay at least at a reasonable weight and it all starts with will power. Still, I’m getting way off topic, I’m glad I had the chance to buy gifts for other people using other people’s money. That being said, I was only given a certain amount to spend on each person so that meant I had to stay within a budget. I did go slightly over and paid for it myself, but still, I had almost forgotten what it was like to have to stay within a budget. Its not easy, especially when the people are bigger and as we know, the bigger the clothes, the more money it costs. Which again, goes back to my other point of staying in shape. Ahhhh, fuck, I’m just repeating myself. I should go now.

Last night, John, Randy, the Johnsons and I went to dinner at Geno’s East. For those of you not from the area, Geno’s is some VERY good Chicago style pizza. Its so good that Pizza Hut should have to change its name to Shit Hut. Its so good that Shit Hut delivery drivers stop off at Geno’s so they can deliver Geno’s instead. Its so good that if Shit Hut paid people money to eat their shit and Geno’s charged for pizza, people would still go to Geno’s. Anyways, you get the point. The plan was to meet there at about 6:30, but as it turned out, I got off work at 4:30, Randy off at 2:30, and all of our other friends couldn’t or did not want to go. Keith was still stuck in the disaster that is Chicago rush hour traffic and after some phone conversations, we still wound up meeting there at 6:30, although Randy was there by 5:30 and I was there by about 10 to 6. As usual, dinner was great. Like many restaurants, Geno’s has a children’s place mat with games and what not. Well, Nicole and I were playing tic tack toe. We played about 15 games or so and honestly, she kicked my fucking ass. Sure, I managed to win a few games, but at nearly 8 years old she is already kicking my ass at things. And I didn’t let her win either, I don’t do that with kids or with anybody.

After dinner, we hung out at the Johnson’s house for a little bit before Keith, John, Randy and I headed to Clem’s. There were a lot of people there but we still managed to get a table. Now I have written about this before in more detail, but for some reason, when it comes to pool in a bar, all rules of courtesy go out the door. It really is about the only thing that strangers ask to share with you. For example, when you are eating somewhere, other customers don’t come up to you and say “mind if I get a bite of that burger?” or if you are in the shower at the health club, they don’t come up to you and say “wanna share that shower?” Anywho, I digress. Last night some drunken jackass, who, although small, was built and looked like he could kick our asses, came up to us as we were in the middle of a game. He had a friend with him and this is how the conversation went. By the way, I’m going to refer to him as Silent Bob because Randy said he kind of looked like Kevin Smith, except that he talked. And his friend will be Jay.

Silent Bob: “Yeah, we wanna play. Let’s play a game.”
Randy: “Well we are kind of in the middle of a game here and we still have the table.”
Silent Bob: (Sarcastically) “Ohhhhh, you are in a middle of a game and have the table. Well, we want to play too.”
Jay: (who by the way was probably the human equivalent of a weasel) “Yeah. Yeah. Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee heeeeeeeee!!!”
Me: “Well we have the table for a while still but we will let you know when we are done.”
Silent Bob: “YOU are gonna let US know when YOU are done?”
It was as if he was saying to us “No, I’m gonna tell you when you are done and you are done right now!” At this point, he seemed to be looking for a fight. Of course, none of us are fighters and are never looking for fights.
Keith: “Actually, we pay by the hour, if you want to get the table you have to talk to Julie the bartender.”
Silent Bob: “Ohhhhh, you want me to talk to Julie the bartender huh? Well, I’ll talk to Julie the bartender!!!”

He and his friend then walked back up to the bar and we never heard from him again. They left a short while later. For some reason, I think he was so stupid that he could not formulate his own sentences and could only repeat what other people were saying. Either way, he was a fucking dick.

We also play darts and last night were playing  a game of High Score, which is pretty simple. Its 10 rounds, 3 darts for each player each round and who ever has the most points at the end of 10 rounds wins. It was just me, Randy and Keith playing. In the first game, I was going first and was getting my ass totally kicked. We get to the 9th round and I had an extremely pathetic 259 points. I pretty much thought this game was a lost cause for me. I was more than 150 points, maybe even more behind whoever was in second place at that time. This is when I did my best Colorado Rockies impression. I got 120 points to bring me back to within shouting distance, but I knew that I would still finish in last place. My next round, I managed to top myself and get 140 fucking points! Next thing I know, much like the Rockies, out of nowhere somehow I had the lead! And even though Randy passed me to win the game, Keith was unable to and I improbably finished in second place. We were all stunned by how I came back, I’m still not sure how it happened. The last laugh was on me though, as we played like 4 games and I didn’t win any of them.

Yesterday morning I woke up feeling like horse shit. I didn’t have a fever, yet almost had a cold sweat. I wasn’t throwing up, yet my stomach was queazy. I showered and got dressed, determined to make it into work. After all, not only did I want to keep up this year’s perfect attendance, but I also had not missed a day since February of 2005. And if I make it through this entire year without calling in sick, not only do I get a $100 bonus, but I also get a shirt or windbreaker with my company’s name on it. On the other hand, I felt like shit and just wanted to go back to bed. I also didn’t want to show up only to have to leave early because I was sick. So, I called in. Today when I got back to work, my calling in yesterday was the talk of work. People thought I was in an accident or that I had something seriously wrong. For many of my co-workers I have not called in sick during their whole time of being there. Although I think if I really wanted to I could have gutted things out and made it through the day, I didn’t feel it was best for me or my co-workers. Last time I went to work sick, I got at least one person sick and I would hate to get somebody sick over the Thanksgiving holiday. Then again, some people might want to be sick during Thanksgiving so that they don’t have to spend time with their family.

Sunday during my hangover/sickness (no, I was not still hungover Monday!) I passed out on the couch and had a very odd dream. I had a dream that I was masterbating. What fucking gives? I just don’t understand that. I mean, I couldn’t dream about sex? Shit, I masterbate all the time, I don’t have sex of any kind all of the time so shouldn’t I be dreaming about that? Its not normal to dream about masterbating. After all, its not like I’m longing to be with myself; I mean, I have been with myself several thousand times. I have never had a masterbating dream before (at least, not one where I was the one masterbating) and don’t know of anybody who has ever had a masterbating dream. What the hell is it supposed to mean? It can’t mean that my own hand is better than sex, because we sure as hell know that ain’t true. After all, even the worst blow job is 10 times better than my best self induced hand job. I have had dreams of me having sex TONS of times. I have had dreams of me blowing myself. I have had dreams of me having sex with guys and with girls for some reason. See, any kind of sex in dreams is erotic and at least a little bit of a turn on. But, dreams of self masterbating is never erotic or a turn on. How the hell can somebody get horny from thinking of THEMSELVES? I woke up thinking “what the hell was that?” Teenagers fantasize all day about when they will finally have sex; they don’t sit there thinking about masterbating after school. And people don’t record themselves masterbating so that they can watch themselves and get turned on by it at a later time. See, this is what is so fucking disturbing about this. I mean, just what exactly does a masturbatory dream say about me anyways?

Just a quick edit people. I want to let as many people know about this as I possible, so please, click on the link:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071121/ap_on_go_pr_wh/cia_leak_mcclellan

My only question is, why isn’t America outraged? If a Clinton or Democrat did something this treasonous, the Republicans would have a field day with it and would bring impeachment charges. Yet, where are the pussy ass Democrats? And why aren’t more people outraged? I really wish I had more time to write about this, but I’ve got to get to bed.

Friday night I played cards at Scott’s house. We had a small game, only 6 people, but it still felt good to win the game. I only stuck around for one game because I was supposed to be helping Dave clean up the house for friends Thanksgiving, but he said he didn’t need me. When I first got to Scott’s, he told me and this other guy that was there that he had an internet video he wanted to show us. As it turns out, it was quite possibly the most disgusting thing I had ever seen. I don’t want to get into details, but lets just say it involved 2 lesbians and a cup. It was so disgusting, that we really only watched about 5 seconds before turning away. Later on while we were playing cards, Scott revealed to us that he only takes a shit on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I guess Scott has changed from dropping hints that he is gay to talking more and more about feces. Still, I don’t know how the hell it is healthy to only shit 2 times a week. He told us that he pisses a lot, including getting out of bed 3 times a night to go. I still don’t know why he was telling us all of this. And I still don’t know why the hell I’m posting about it.

After Dave told me Friday night that he did not need anymore of my help with getting his house ready, Saturday at 8 in the fucking morning I get a text from him telling me that he can use my help when I get up. I tried to fall back asleep and dozed on and off until about 9:30 when he woke me up with a phone call. After exercising and eating breakfast, I headed over there. One of the things we decided to do this year was hang up a bunch of pics from Thanksgivings past and other events we have had. One of my jobs was to tape all of those pictures to the basement door for everybody to see. There were some old pics in there from when some of us were teenagers. It took us all back.

I stood at their house until about 2 when I headed home to shower and help John with the sweet potatoes. It turns out Jt was moving back into his old house yesterday and John had helped him move during the morning and early afternoon. On the way to his help him unload, John’s car broke down. He thinks it was the tyrod. I don’t know, but either way it sucks ass. As for the sweet potatoes, fuckin A, those things are hard to cut. John said that I probably didn’t have as sharp of a knife as he had, but still, I couldn’t even get that damn knife through the potato. Of course, it also doesn’t help that I’m a weakling.

I got back to Dave and Kelli’s about 4:30. It was a late arriving crowd this year. We always tell everybody to arrive between 5-6 and for the most part, everybody is scattered throughout the hour. This time, though, most people didn’t arrive until after 5:30. In fact, it was just Dave, Kelli, John and Roseann until about 5:40. From then until about 6, everybody showed up. We wound up not sitting down to eat dinner until shortly after 7. Now that I’ve got a camera phone, I can post pics on here. Ok, I’ve had a camera phone for over a year now, but for whatever reason, I just didn’t use it often.

This is Dave attempting to carve the turkey. Every year, he does like one slice before he calls in John to finish up for him. Its kind of like throwing out the first pitch of a baseball game, except Dave is more dangerous with a knife than some dope with a baseball.

Plus, John just looks happier cutting the turkey.

This is of course a group of people eating. Heather is going to kick my ass if she finds out I posted this (and she probably will since she reads this) because it is not the best picture of her. I didn’t mean to get her that up close while she was eating, but hey, now that I have it, I have to post it.

I had a chance to drink last night and I always seem to have a problem when I drink dark wine. I have mentioned this before on here, but for some reason, when I drink wine, my lips turn purple. And nobody can tell me why. Some people tell me that I must be drinking a cheap wine, but I wasn’t, I was drinking some Merlot that Dave bought. Honestly, I don’t know if it is cheap or not, I just know that it comes in a bottle and not a box! And I have had really cheaper wine before and my lips did not turn purple. Right now, it almost looks like I’m wearing lipstick. Cheap wine or not, either way, one thing that is consistent: I’ve got a motherfucking hangover!

First of all, it has been brought to my attention that you can comment on my posts WITHOUT being a member of Xanga. I’m not sure how to do it myself and will try to find out how, but for those of you that aren’t members and want to put me in my place because of some of the pure crap I write, please feel free to explore the site and experiment with leaving a comment. If you leave a comment, please say who you are since I won’t know………..wait, I probably shouldn’t say that, it gives people a good way to fuck with me if I don’t know who is leaving the comment. Ahhhh, fuck it…….leave you name if you want or don’t put it, either way it will keep things interesting.

I’m in a fantasy football league with some people from work. The guy that is running it is the same guy who ran one of the leagues I was in last year. I have to say, he is one shady and sneaky  sonofabitch. After this season is over, I’m done with his leagues. You might ask how does one cheat at fantasy football? Well, first of all, people can cheat at anything. See, he has his own team, his brother has a team and this girl he is rumored to be fucking has a team too. the whole season there have been questionable “trades” involving his team and these 2 other teams. Last year in the championship game, he paid off the guy he was playing against so that he would win. It also wouldn’t surprise me the least to find out that he was paying off these other 2 teams on the weeks he plays them. And its not only me saying this, there are a couple of other guys in the league from work that believe he is cheating too. Now here comes the best part. Even though he is cheating, his team is in last fucking place! And the team that is next to last? The chick he is fucking. As for his brother’s team, he is barely clinging onto the last playoff spot. I’m right behind him and hold the tiebreaker against him. How fucking gratifying is that? This douche bag can’t even win when he cheats! Of course, there are still 4 weeks left in the season and anything can happen. However the way things are looking right now, he has all but been eliminated from the playoffs, the chick is going to have a helluva time making it and although his brother is in the driver’s seat for the 4th and final spot right now, he certainly has his work cut out for him, as not only does he have a tougher schedule, but he also has to hold off 3 other teams, including my team which is, statistically speaking better than his team. By a lot. I say that because even though I have one less win than him, I happen to have well over 100 points more than he does and points is the tiebreaker. In fact, in spite of me being in 5th place, I have the 3rd most amount of points out of 8 teams. The teams that have more points than me both have at least 2 more wins than me, which means that I have lost some tough games and also am better than my record indicates. That means that in theory, I should be able to at least go to the playoffs. In theory. Of course, theory is a fun place to live, but only reality can get me to the playoffs.

All right, enough fantasy football talk.

Tonight was shopping with Dave for our big Thanksgiving this Saturday. Its always an adventure shopping with Dave. We always buy tons of shit so we need 2 carts. And for some reason, every time I’m shopping with Dave (which is not often at all) I always manage to hit the back of his feet with my cart. Come to think of it, I think I do this to anybody I’m shopping with. It certainly helps to explain why nobody wants to shop with me. I’m giving serious though to maybe considering paying attention when I push the cart. Then again, that does sound like way to much work. Plus, pushing the cart behind my back with my eyes closed is just more fun. Now I want to make it clear that honestly, I did hit him by accident. That being said for some reason, I kept weighing beating the shit out of Dave with the cart. You know, maybe ram him with it once so he is stunned and then a few other times………….just until he falls. Then I will stop ramming him and move on to the next phase: Operation Run Him The Fuck Over. I know that sounds bad, but believe me, I’m not a violent person in the least. You have to admit, that does sound kind of fun, right? Plus, you have no idea what it is like to go shopping with Dave. There is no rhyme or reason to it. First of all, he doesn’t bring a list. Ever. He instead will just keep calling his wife Kelli every 5 minutes to ask what he needs. And he doesn’t have an order in getting things. Sure, he will always start with getting the turkey. This is a lengthy process because he must inspect every turkey. Although it seems like he is molesting the turkey, he is actually just seeking out the biggest turkey possible. Once he finds it, he then compares prices of different brands but always and I mean ALWAYS gets Butterball. After getting the turkey, he will  backtrack and get the bread. Then, the cool whip. Then go back near the bread to get some veggies. Its all over back and forth every where passing up shit along the way. I shouldn’t lay all the blame with him. I pretty much go right along with it and in fact, even encourage it. He also suffers from a chronic condition that I’m sure you are familiar with: Abandoned Cart Syndrome. You know the type. Puts shit in the cart, then leaves the cart in the middle of the aisle to go two aisles over to get something and then proceed to carry it back to the abandoned cart. I don’t normally have this condition, only when I shop with Dave. Tonight, I found myself doing the same thing that he does. I’m usually a pretty quick shopper when I’m alone, but with Dave, we were there for over an hour and a half. Shit, we probably could have cooked most of the damn Thanksgiving meal in the time it took us to shop. And we didn’t even get everything. I know this sounds like I’m complaining about the whole thing, but honestly, I like it; it is kind of an adventure. Dave, Kelli and I spend a lot of money and time every year to throw this fancy Thanksgiving dinner party and the shopping trip is all part of it. So is Dave stressing and freaking out about the whole thing. Such as if he finds out that there will be another person coming to dinner, he thinks that means we need another half of a turkey, another can of cranberries, and more of everything else even if this one person is a child. Oh Dave. You gotta love him.