Sunday, March 30, 2003

I realize that we don't want to fight inside Iraq's cities, and that it's serious business.

But when you hear the phrase Urban Guerilla spoken aloud, what's the first thing you think of? What if Iraq was fighting its battles using large gun toting gorillas? I think that would make for really good TV.
That Syracuse/Oklahoma game was some slaw.

No, it wasn't right that Syracuse got to play so close to their home court.

But that wasn't why Oklahoma lost.

They just couldn't bust that zone. And even if they had gotten good looks at the basket, I don't think their shots would have gone down.

Up until the moment they lost, I had the most potential points in an office pool. Meaning that if everything went my way for the rest of the tournament, I would win. But with Oklahoma losing, that puts me down a peg. Kentucky lost to Marquette the other day, and that hurt a LOT of people a lot more than it hurt me.

Saturday, March 29, 2003

Just a few random thoughts:

If you ignore Vin Diesel, he'll go way. I honestly believe that.

If I were casting the Match Game 2003, the top row would be Paul Rodriguez, Roseanne and Bruce Vilanche. The bottom row would be Betty White, Richard Karns and Kathy Griffen. I think Charles Grodin would make an excellent host.

You know, I recognize the need to mainstream wrestling in 1995, back at Wrestlemania XI. But it bugs the fool out of me that Lawrence Taylor was in the main event.

Why don't they teach Spelling at the college level?

Beanie Weenie's are God's Most Perfect Food.

I'm a pessimist. So where the hell's my glass of water?
Bill and I got a treat tonight. Henry Rollins was speaking at MTSU.

Bill's a huge Rollins mark. He's on Henry like white on a mayonnaise sandwich on wonder bread. The boy reads three things: comic books, pro wrestling news pages and long, rambling tomes by Mr. Henry Rollins. Likewise, the only thing he listens to on the stereo are albums from either his massive Patsy Cline collection, or his even more massive Henry Rollins collection.

So when Bill found out that Henry was going to be in Murfreesboro on Friday night, he very nearly made in his pants.

Tickets were free from the MTSU Student Activities Office. Once we got those, we had but to wait.

Henry spoke. It was great.

Have you ever listened to a Roy D. Mercer prank call? It was on his records the first time I ever heard the phrase "you and me are gonna get sideways of each other." Since then, I'll occasionally say that somebody and me are about to get sideways of one another. Usually in jest.

Henry's speaking style is largely confrontational, from his rhetoric to his subject matter all the way down to his stance. Except when he would have to become animated to prove (or exaggerate) a point, Henry stood slightly sideways to the audience, right foot and right shoulder forward. Now that I think about it, it may be a product of having been a singer, and out of habit, Henry wants to lean on the microphone. It may be instinct to pound out every word (or note). That only helps my argument, I guess.

A few thoughts on what was said (without re-hashing so much what he said):

Henry's a sharp feller who has put much throught into what he's said. By his own admission, he can only think of the things he thinks of because of his excess of spare time. So much of his time is spent travelling from gig to gig that all he can do is sit back and think of things. There's an old Geroge Carlin bit about his good ideas (such as a light that will shine only on those things worth looking at) that he thought up when he's home alone and the power goes out. I imagine that being on a tour bus between either singing or speaking engagements is much the same thing in Henry's case. I don't know that all that free time is the complete truth (at least not in the terms of what I'd think of as free time), but I'd say that he feels somewhat trapped and bored most of the time, simply because of what he's accepted as free time.

Henry's a funny feller. He's got a standup comic's cadence. I think he'd have done alright if he'd somehow veered into comedy rather than music. Guys with his charisma do well with that sort of thing. Henry told a story about how the Ramones played such a pivotal role in his life and how seeing a concert at a small club near Washington, D.C., changed him in such a way that he still hasn't recovered. I don't know that necessarily there's a comedic equivalent. But what if he and a friend had instead decided to see Richard Pryor or Robert Klein or George Carlin at a small club back in the day?

His point, though, was how drained he was by the musical experience (drained in a good way), and how he never lost that. I'd have a hard time seeing 800 people trying to pack into a small venue for comedy and it having the same result as 800 people packing into a small venue to see the Ramones. Different product, different obstacles....I don't know. I'm rambling.

Back to Henry:

Henry's an outcast kind of feller. I think that's why he appeals so much to a lot of different people. A shitload of those people at Tucker Theatre had books of his. I think Henry, like his music, appeals to people, especially people who feel like they lack a connection with the rest of the world. Something Henry brought up was how the music of his day (Dreamweaver, Fly Like an Eagle) didn't seem to be made for him and people like him. How getting beaten up by bullies and getting rejected by girls didn't seem to make him want to sing the Electric Light Orchestra. The Ramones touched him.

I wonder if he realizes that, on some level or another, when he writes, when he speaks, when he sings, he probably touches a lot of people in a lot the same way. Probably does. He's a sharp feller, like I said.

A brief note, that Tucker Theater was full. MTSU's a notorious suit case school, and when I first started going there more years ago than I'd like to admit, if you had a function on a weekend, whether it was a speaker, the symphony or even a movie showing in the theater on campus, you might as well forget it, because you won't draw flies. Hell, Mojo Nixon and Jill Sobule spoke a couple of years ago and maybe a hundred people showed up.

Tucker was fairly well packed. I'd say they had seven or eight hundred. It was packed. It's not a huge theater. But Henry filled it. So, for once, I was proud of my fellow MTSUites and I was proud of campus recreation/student activities for actually promoting an event that A.) people wanted to see and B.) advertising it so that people would actually know when and where it was.

Although Bill and I were fairly oblivious and it took Bill seeing a guy with tickets at International House of Pancakes to catch on.

I'd probably never have noticed.

All in all, I enjoyed Henry's visit. I hope he comes back.

Briefly, I'll touch again on why this site's called Big Stupid Tommy.

Twice. Twice, now. Twice in the past three days, I've been driving around with my window down on my truck. I get where I'm going, and my mind leaves me, and I don't think to roll the window all the way up. And what happens? It rains like a sumbitch.

It did it Tuesday at the wrestling show Jason and I attended. I left it cracked about two inches, and it rained at such an angle that my whole seat was wet.

And I did it again today. Stupid Big Stupid Tommy. It was parked at the apartment. I'd gone out to stop by work for a second, and when I got back, my Ignorance Switch turned on.

And it rained hard while Bill and I were watching Henry Rollins. My seat was soaked.

Wet ass, yall.

Thursday, March 27, 2003

It's a tragedy.

Pete Van Wieren and Skip Caray won't be doing TBS broadcasts of the Atlanta Braves games. They were shunted aside in favor of Joe Simpson and Don Sutton.

It made me a little angry. Change always does. I'm quite a static character.
Baseball Talk

Sean McAdam has handicapped the National League Central, and he's picked the Cubs to finish first.

Confidence, specifically my confidence, in the Cubs has always been their downfall. I was stoked going into last year, and they lost 95 games. I know it's self-centered, but the Cubs performance revolves entirely around my confidence in their abilities. It always has and it always will.

McAdam says there are four teams with realistic shots at winning the Central. They are the Cardinals, Astros, Cubs and Reds. My list says three, with the Reds having only a long shot. And of course, the Brewers would have a hard time beating some AAA teams consistently.

If you pressed me to predicting an N.L. Central standing:

St. Louis
Houston
Chicago
Cincinnati
Pittsburgh
Milwaukee

Personally, I think it'll be a neat dogfight between the Astros and Cardinals.

I think the Cubs will have a lights out pitching staff. But even with Sammy Sosa in the lineup, may have a little trouble putting runs on the board, especially if Moises Alou isn't healthy and pitchers aren't intimidated by a Hee Seop Choi or an Eric Karros batting behind Sammy.

Wednesday, March 26, 2003

Hey! You! Yeah, you!

C'mere.

I'll give you a shiny new dollar, if you'll mop my kitchen.

Think about it.

Let me know by tomorrow.
I try not to eat too much fast food. Here lately, because I've been running to and fro so much, it's been largely unavoidable.

However. This is a note to all those who eat lunch with me.

If ever, ever I say in your company that we should eat at Taco Bell, I need you incapacitate me. Whether that means a kick to the groin or a frying pan upside the head, I need you to take me out. To save me from myself.
I learned today that a McDonald's Big n' Tasty is neither all that big, nor all that tasty.

Live and learn.

I went to the scariest McDonald's in Nashville. I'm sure it's nice during the day. But there's pretty much no lighting in the parking lot. And I sat at the drive-thru call box for what seemed like a loooooong time. And I just got a Big n' Tasty and a medium coke. And it wasn't fun.

Jason and I went to a rasslin' show up at the Fairgrounds. That'll be two for the week, after tomorrow's TNA show.

I really dig these kind of shows. It's intimate, if you can describe such an event as intimate. Think of the rasslin show as theatre in the round, where the audience is allowed and expected to respond to what's going on. What's more, in such an intimate setting (where the fans are two or three rows deep instead of forty), the performers can react and respond readily to what's going on outside the ring, as well. It's something to enjoy.

Near the beginning of NWA-TNA's existence, a wrestler named James Storm was really banking on a gimmick of "Cowboy." And he'd come to the ring in a duster and a hat with six-shooters that fired blanks. He'd get in the ring, hop around and climb the turnbuckles, and fire off his pistols a couple of times.

One night, he was doing his schtick, and he climbed up to the turnbuckle to fire off the guns. The ceiling of the TNA Asylum is lined with fluorescent tubes. When Storm fired off his blanks, the consussive air coming from the guns shattered the light tubes he was directly under. Little shards of glass came raining to the ground, as performer and fan alike ran for cover.

James Storm was wrestling at the event tonight. I was relating the story above to Jason. As the Cowboy paraded around the ring, he must have seen my hand gestures (I talk muchly with my hands), and as he walks by, he taps my arm and asks in passing if I was remembering about the light tubes exploding.

That's the kind of interplay between fan and performer that I enjoy.

All in all, it was a good show. Chris Vaughn and Chase Stevens had probably the best match of the night. Chris Harris and Andy Douglas had a good brawl that sent Jason and me scurrying for cover at one point, as Harris threw Douglas into the seating area.

Also, regular fan Chickenhat was at the event. Bill and I are of the opinion that he lives quite near the Tennessee Fairgrounds. We saw him walking well away from the parking area after one show last summer. Is it possible that he lives within walking distance?

Chickenhat was quite the vocal fan tonight. He jawed quite a bit with one of the valets (Miss Infinity?), and also with Chase Stevens. At one point, Chickenhat got so flustered he even used (gasp!!!!) the f word.

Frank.

Fufu.

Famdamdol.

All in all, it was a good day.

Monday, March 24, 2003

I had me a precognitive moment today. My little "power" works better than a radar detector. Saved me a ticket today. I was in a hurry and was running about 50 or so in a 30. But I decided to slow down as I topped a rise that normally I'd not have thought anything of. And there was a cop on a motorbike shooting radar.

If only I could get this things to work on lottery numbers, then I could tell everybody where to stick it.

But I get little things like no speeding tickets.

And twice in my life, this has happened: I've been walking along, and for no reason, I stop dead in my tracks. And then, right where I would have been had I kept walking, a big plop of bird shit falls to the ground. That's happened twice, and oh my was I happy.

And I guess that with all other things being equal, if I can't win the lottery, at least the birds aren't shitting on me.
Believe it or not, I'm a big fan of everything having an appropriate time and an appropriate place. Sometimes, I manage to forget that little notion, but for the most part, I think I adhere to it as much as I am capable.

I agree (somewhat) with Mr. Moore's sentiment that this war was more created than caused. However, I was a littley surprised at his choice of forum, though I really shouldn't have been. When you think about it, we all should have seen it coming a mile away.

I do feel like there's a time and a place for everything, and ranting madly when you should be graciously accepting a self congratulatory award is neither the appropriate time nor the appropriate place.

The Oscars is about who's wearing what...not why we're bombing whom.

Did anyone else think Harrison Ford lied about Roman Polanski winning the Oscar? I think he just wanted to get out and party. I think Scorcese won, and Harrison just wanted to spare us the 10 minute Martin Scorcese acceptance speech.

Han Solo. Pragmatic Feller.

Saturday, March 22, 2003

Hey! I don't have anything better to do. So I'm posting one of those sendaround surveys that everybody sends everybody else.

Learn about me:

> Welcome to the next edition of getting to know your
> friends. What you're supposed to do is copy (not
> forward) this entire e-mail and
> paste it onto a new e-mail that you'll send. Change
> all of the answers so they apply to you. Then, send
> this to a whole bunch of
> people you know *INCLUDING* the person who sent it
> to you. The theory is that you'll learn a lot of
> little known facts about your
> friends.
> 1. WHAT TIME DO YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING?

6:30 or so.

> 2. IF YOU COULD EAT LUNCH WITH ONE FAMOUS PERSON,
> WHO WOULD IT BE?

George Carlin

> 3. GOLD OR SILVER?

Silver
> 4. WHAT WAS THE LAST FILM YOU SAW AT THE CINEMA?

Old School. I recommend it.

> 5. FAVORITE TV SHOW?

The Simpsons, now that Andy Richter Controls the Universe seems to have been taken off.

> 6. WHAT DO YOU HAVE FOR BREAKFAST?

A Slimfast Shake if I have it. And a piece of fruit.

> 7. WHAT WOULD YOU HATE TO BE LEFT IN A ROOM WITH?
>

Snakes.

> 8. CAN YOU TOUCH YOUR NOSE WITH YOUR TONGUE?

Nope. Thank God.

> 9. WHAT INSPIRES YOU?

Little things. I can't really give an example.

> 10. WHAT'S YOUR MIDDLE NAME?

Stupid

> 11. BEACH, CITY, Or COUNTRY?

Country. Sand gets in my craw. So do people.

> 12. SUMMER OR WINTER?

Summer.
> 13. FAVORITE ICE CREAM?

Butter Pecan

> 14. BUTTERED, PLAIN, OR SALTED POPCORN?

Salted.

> 15. FAVORITE COLOR?

Green.

> 16. FAVORITE CAR?

the Batmobile.

> 17. SANDWICH FILLING?

Yes. It was quite filling, thank you.

> 19. WHAT CHARACTERISTICS DO YOU DESPISE?

Bossiness. Refusal to admit being wrong. Refusal to
admit ignorance.

> 20. FAVORITE FLOWER?

Ehh. They're all tied for first.

> 21. IF YOU HAD A BIG WIN IN THE LOTTERY, HOW LONG
> WOULD YOU WAIT TO
> TELL PEOPLE?

How long does it take to rent Television time?

Just so I could get on a commercial spot just so I could list all the people who could kiss my ass.

> 22. FIZZY OR STILL WATER AS A DRINK?

Huh?

> 23. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR BATHROOM?

The water is blue. Everything else is yellow, tan or
white.

> 24. HOW MANY KEYS ON YOUR KEY RING?

11. Too many.

> 25. WHERE WOULD YOU RETIRE TO?

To my spacious villa located right next to the Kelly
Mart in Niota, Tennessee.

> 26. CAN YOU JUGGLE?

Yes, if I don't think about it while I do it.

> 27. FAVORITE DAY OF THE WEEK?

Wednesday. Is that right?

> 28. RED OR WHITE WINE?

Red, if I gotta. Anybody got any beer?

> 29. WHAT DID YOU DO FOR YOUR LAST BIRTHDAY?

Went to Fat Mo's with Bill, Julie and Jason.

> 30. DO YOU CARRY A DONOR CARD?

Is that some kind of crack about working for Goodwill?

> 31. SAY SOMETHING NICE ABOUT THE PERSON THAT SENT
> THIS TO YOU:

Julie is intelligent, easy to talk to and she puts up
with my shit more easily than most.

>32. WHAT ARE YOU READING RIGHT NOW?

Close Range: Wyoming Stories, by Annie Proulx

> 33. WHO DO YOU LEAST EXPECT TO SEND THIS BACK TO
> YOU?

Joe "Above Such Things" Thomas

Friday, March 21, 2003

Here's why I don't wear boxers:

It's the Kosmo Kramer argument. The boys need a house.

And when you wear briefs, you don't crush the boys when you're getting out of your truck.
Just a quick update on my NCAA Tournament bracket, before I brave the highway toward Nashville.

I got 10 out of 16 right yesterday. So far, I'm not having a good tournament. But I'm not having a bad one, necessarily. I've lost one team (Dayton) out of my Sweet Sixteen, and none beyond that.

I'll wait until end of the weekend until my bracket is destroyed, and then I'll tell more.

Thursday, March 20, 2003

Go see Old School. It's funny.
Not to be skeptical or critical or anything.

But the first target of our amassed military might in Iraq is the bunker where we believe Saddam Hussein to have been bedding down for the night.

My question is how many millions of dollars did this first strike cost? What does a cruise missle run for nowadays?

How much would a team of, say, 60 assassins cost?

Brought to you by Big Stupid Tommy for a Fiscally Conscious War.

Wednesday, March 19, 2003

In my travels around the web, I found this nice little commentary from Pravda.

The uptake in Russia, at least partially, is our invasion of Iraq is based largely on Baghdad taking on the Euro as its official currency.

I'm blatantly stealing a line from another website. Maybe the reason Tony Blair is backing the United States so fervently in spite of popular opposition in Great Britain is related to Britain holding onto the Pound and resisting the Euro.

Maybe he's afraid that if Britain turns to the Euro like Iraq, then the U.S. would invade Britain, too!

Limeys are funny that way.

By the way, my forum is up an running again, and I can't help but notice that only three people have posted. One of them being me. Get on the ball, people!

Tuesday, March 18, 2003

Here's a somewhat unexpected marker on the Highway of Life:

It's been eleven years since Right Said Fred performed "I'm Too Sexy" at MTV's Spring Break.

Eleven years.

Holy Crap.

Monday, March 17, 2003

This from my mother, via e-mail:

"I mean, why do they call it duck tape--those rolls must weigh a pound. You got to duck! Don't worry son, my father was using duct tape before the common person knew what it was. You need to find something to laugh about and make fun of things around you."

I come by it honestly.

I think she sensed that relatively speaking I'm a little unhappy with my life position right now. To be honest, I have been for a little while. Since around Thanksgiving or so. I've used this site to help cheer myself up quite a bit. To try to make the world a little bit of a better place. I don't know how well I've succeeded. But I find myself funny at times, and sometimes, that's all that matters.

Enough Maudlin. Tell a joke:

Why do mice have such tiny balls?

Because so few of them know how to dance.
Here's a commentary by Ted Rall.

It made me a little mad. Support these guys. They're doing what they believe is right. It's not like they enjoy it. Read Lt. Smash. He hates being over there. But he believes he's doing it to protect his family and his country.

Even if you disagree with it, thank him. Because if he believe he's protecting your country, he's also protecting you.

And trust me. From what I've seen here lately, there's a lot of people in our country (a couple of people in my workplace) who don't deserve protection.
Happy St. Patty's Day. In celebration, I'm working today.

I've never been to Ireland. I'd like to go. We had a girl from Ireland working with us once. She told us that it's beautiful country, but the people are in the middle of a Thousand-Year Ugly Epidemic. That's part of why she left.

It's as good a reason as any other. I mean, what if you were in an area where everybody was an eyesore? Sure, you'd tell everybody you were leaving for opportunity, but if you're constantly supressing the gag reflex, I'd say you'd look for nicer shores, too.

Not that I'll win any beauty contests, but I'm not causing mass exodus, either.

However.

In honor of St. Patrick's Day, here are a couple of green facts:

The following information regarding the average life of a Federal Reserve Note was provided by the Federal Reserve System - please note that the life of a note depends on its denomination:
$ 1 .............. 22 months
$ 5 ................ 2 Years
$ 10................ 3 Years
$ 20 ............... 4 Years
$ 50 ............... 9 Years
$100 .............. 9 Years

I have a boring story: I got a $1 bill that was from a series in the early 80's a little while back. It was like tissue. It was faded, too. It must have been stored someplace (like the inside of a book or a pocket...or maybe a tissue box) to still have been in circulation in 2003. I don't know what I spent my tissue-dollar on. I wish I did. Now I'll be up worrying about it all night.

More from the U.S. Guvmint Money Folks:

Have you ever wondered how many times you could fold a piece of currency before it would tear? About 4,000 double folds (first forward and then backwards) are required before a note will tear.

You want to know something? I worry about a lot of stupid, stupid things. And I'm a moderately curious cat. But not once, never ever, have I wondered how many times you could fold a piece of currency before it tore. Not once, not at my most obsessive compulsive. Do you know who found this out? Probably a government worker. Whom we pay with our taxes. He probably was supposed to be doing something else, but instead he decided to run this "experiment." He spent the whole day counting how many times you had to fold the money before it tore. And in order to get a good survey sample, he probably had to do this with at least three bills, and probably more.

Yep.

Sunday, March 16, 2003

We have something like 75 channels on our cable. Now, to a kid that grew up without cable and Cubs baseball, you'd think I'd be completely overjoyed by this.

But I just watch like 5 of them. There are all these useless channels on my cable that I have absolutely no use for. And I'm not even talking about the girlie stuff like Lifetime, Oxygen and HGTV. I'm talking about your everyday, run of the mill channels like CNN, Fox News and the E! Network.

Senator John "the Hammer" McCain is pushing cable networks to offer a'la carte rates. Here's the press release.

How great would that be?

Of the cable channels, I'd keep ESPN 1 & 2. Cartoon Network is good. TBS and WGN for baseball. Sportsouth. Comedy Central. and TNN shows my Monday Night Wrestling. And probably the Game Show Network, for when I was bored.

And also I'd keep the Hallmark Channel. Because I'm not wholesome enough.
I Hate the Fox Network

Since Fox's new Oliver Beene show is so bad, here now, is a brief and poorly thought-out review and rumination upon tonight's episode of the Simpsons.

My friend Joebo has offered the opinion that Homer has been made too much of a stooge here lately. I hadn't given it much thought. I'll have to think on it for a little while, but I kept it in mind as I watched tonight's episode.

In this episode, Homer fails at love on Valentine's Day, seeks help at extension school and through merry misadventures becomes the owner of the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant. Mr. Burns is fired, and hilarity ensues.

To quote Jim Rome: It was great.

The top lines:

#4: "Monkey made of drugs." Marrakesh merchant explains the ease of acquiring drugs to Smithers.

#3: "Eat crowd, old man!" as Homer throws Mr. Burns off the balcony.

#2: "U.S. Steel was once owned by a half-eaten breakfast," Mr. Burns explains to Smithers the process by which folks get around tax laws inside corporate America.

and the top quote from tonight's episode of Simpsons:

#1: "I'll just throw back my legs and pollute my pants with delight!" Mr. Burns on Homer's suggestions.

A few other thoughts on today:

If you missed the end to today's race in Darlington, you missed a damn goodie. Ricky Craven bested Kurt Busch by something like 1/64th of an inch. It was more like a foot, but it was frigging close.

I'm not impressed with the pairings for the start of next weekend's NCAA men's basketball tournament. You can't tell me that Purdue and Alabama are better than Tennessee and Texas Tech. But it's small apples, and I just want another opportunity to see Bobby Knight scream and yell.

Okay, here's the problem. I'm on Cabbage Overload. I had a couple of egg rolls for lunch. And then, supper was at the Blackstone Brewery in Nashville, where I went against my healthier eating plan of late, and had bratwurst on top of sauerkraut.

I really, really gotta fart.

Saturday, March 15, 2003

I did want to mention that the March 12th NWA-TNA show was one of their absolute best. I'm going to put it in the top three, and maybe top two, right behind the August show where the Jerry Lynn/A.J. Styles/Low-Ki match just blew everything else out of the water.

Jerry Lynn and David Young (who's impressed me greatly of late) had a tag match against the Luchadores Damien and Halloween. I can only say that Jerry Lynn is probably the most consistently great performer in the TNA. And his opponents were up to the task of performing with him.

D-Lo Brown made his first TNA appearance. He bashed the WWF for holding him down.

And lo! and Behold! "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan showed up! Stars and Stripes Forever blared over the loudspeakers, and I jumped up. I was hoping against hope. And it was! He came out, flag and all. Overalls with an American Shield on the front. Problem was, he got booed by some of the workrate nerds that have taken up residence in the Asylum. My advice is to have fun. Give the guy a one time benefit of the doubt. I don't necessarily wanting him taking the spotlight from Jerry Lynn or Amazing Red. But I'll be happy to have seen him once.

I didn't care for the finish of the main event. Raven and A.J. Styles got the double pin. I didn't care that much for it, especially since it was a finish used for the tag championship a month ago, an issue which was only resolved earlier this same show, when Low-Ki and Chris Daniels won the tag championship.

A solid show. If you're a wrestling fan (and you'd better be), check out the TNA guys. Good stuff.

Friday, March 14, 2003

Just another complaint about my favorite sport and the car salesman who runs it.

Now he's saying there's absolutely no chance of Major Leaguers participating in the 2004 Olympics. This isn't a direct quite, because I can't link up to the article right now. Selig says: "The ebb and flow of the game is critical, and we can't disturb that."

But paraphrasing: The continuity of our season is more important participating in the Olympics.

According to the Associated Press article, Selig has assured everybody that Major Leaguers in the Olympics is next to impossible.

Olympic officials have made overtures to get Major Leaguers into the Olympics. They've said they'd shorten the schedule from 11 to 5 days. IOC president Jacques Rogge complains that they have the best American athletes in hockey, in track, in tennis, in basketball. But no the best American athletes in baseball.

But that's not even the whole problem. They also don't have the best Dominican baseball players. Or the best Venezuelan. A couple or three of the best Japanese players are now playing in America. And significant portions of what would be the teams of several other nations.

You know, there are a couple of ways to get Major League players in the Olympics. Without assassination of parts of the heirarchy of Major League Baseball.

The first is delay the season 8 or 9 days and play a full 162 game season. The Series ended in November in 2001. It wouldn't be unprecedented. The Olympics in 2004 are something like the 13th through the 29th of August. Seems to me that would be a great way to get teams rested up for the pennant chase.

The other solution might be to play a 154 game season that year.

But get players out there. There used to be no greater honor than playing for your country in the Olympics. Nobody used to be worried about millionaires getting hurt. And that's the problem. Owners wanting only to protect their investments. Who wants to let Sammy Sosa win a medal in the Olympics if he gets hurt playing for the Dominican Republic team?

There's talk of a World Cup of baseball. But I think Bud "Smart as a Bag of Hammers" Selig should make a couple of goodwill gestures. I think the Olympics would be a classy gesture. But he is a used car salesman.

Thursday, March 13, 2003

I've thought a little bit more about the Cubs/Wrigley Field situation.

I agree with the stance of the City of Chicago.

But I don't want them to press the issue.

Baseball has everybody too much over a barrel. I know it's 5 years down the road, but I figure if Chicago gives the Cubs too much trouble, then we won't have the Cubs playing in Wrigley. I like the Cubs. I like Wrigley. But I want them both. Know when you're licked, I guess. I just don't want the Cubs to be playing in someplace like Downy Drier Sheets Stadium in Gary, Indiana instead of on the North Side.

Keep in mind that my mind works completely off the worst case scenario.

Wednesday, March 12, 2003

I'm having a hard time with something. I don't like the stance the Cubs and Major League Baseball are taking against the City of Chicago, in reference to Wrigley Field. Here's the USA Today article discussing Wrigley's possible status as a historical landmark.

What's bugged me about the whole Wrigley expansion thing is the spite it carries. It's indicative, I think, of the problems baseball in general has, and the way it puts itself above the people.

The couple of times I've been to Wrigley, what's always charmed me about the place is the way it's smack in the middle of the city. There are businesses up and down the road on either side of the stadium, and a fairly upscale neighborhood just beyond the outfield wall. To me, Wrigley was part of the neighborhood, not necessarily a zone unto itself.

So many stadiums now are just off to themselves nowadays, zones for entertainment. But there on the North side, you walk one block, and you're in a street lined with drugstores, small grocery stores and the like. The next block, Wrigley Field. The block after that? Wrigleyville.

Personally, I think Wrigley should be established as a historical landmark, and the stadium itself should not be changed. I don't like adding seats and blocking off the view from the outside. I always thought that was part of the charm.

Is the gripe the seats across the way? Here's what I'm thinking. Can the Cubs rent the tops of the buildings across the streets from the owners, and charge admission themselves? Would that change things? You pay 9 bucks and you watch the game from across the street?

What worries me is the cryptic statement by Bud "I'm the most inept person alive" Selig that such a move by Chicago to put the historic landmark stamp on Wrigley would "precipitate the loss of Wrigley."

I'll tell you. I think the environment at Wrigley was one of the best in baseball. At most Major League Baseball stadiums you're absolutely inundated by music, noise and other advertising. On the ubiquitious big screen, on marquee advertisement billboards...on the seats themselves. They show cartoons between innings to keep people's attention. There are video game corners and swimming pools and anything else you can think of. But at Wrigley, it's baseball. And everyone who's there is there to watch baseball.

The Cubs are part of Wrigley, and Wrigley is part of the Cubs. I'm going to support Chicago in this endeavour, and not the Cubs. They're wrong. Quit paying Sammy Sosa 19 million dollars and you won't have to cut yourself off from the neighborhood to make ends meet.

I apologize if I've rambled.

Gracias.

Remember the Big Stupid Tommy Talkpit. Go there.
In preparation for the upcoming war effort, Bill and I went bowling this morning. Bill won both times. By 71 pins the first game, but by just 10 the second game. And it wasn't that I was getting better, but that he was getting worse.

Also in preparation for the war, I bought 3 Peanut Butter Powerbars. And a gallon of water. Combine that with my trench digger, my MRE and my Flashlight, I'm set for a day or so.

Also, we got a steak biscuit at Mrs. Winner's. We didn't do that for the war effort. We did that in Memory of Dale Earnhardt. Rest in Peace #3.

Tuesday, March 11, 2003

Mark Quinn got released by the Royals today. Read about it here.

One time, Steven and I went to a Nashville Sounds game, when Quinn was with the Royals AAA team. He was playing right field, and Steven and I had moved down to the right field corner for some reason. We were pretty much the only two people from about first base to the right field wall. And we were just talking to Quinn, giving him shit.

I don't remember what we said or who said it, but something we said got his attention. It was about the sixth inning or so. He comes out of his crouch and just stares daggers at me and Steven for several, uncomfortable seconds. See, there's nothing but a three foot high wall to keep him from coming after us. I'm a pansy and Steven's a panty-waist. I remember yelling at him to "watch the game" and I pointed toward the infield.

It wasn't three pitches later that Quinn completely misjudges a flyball. He loses the ball and spends a long time trying to find it. Three runs score based on his error.

The Sounds stadium has a hot tub platform, and on that fateful night, a fraternity from MTSU had rented the platform. And they got all over Quinn when he muffed the ball.

And boyoboy! Did the expletives ever fly up there.

And when he got done yelling at the frat boys, he stares right at us. He dared us to say something (without speaking, of course).

We didn't say anything for a little while.

That was the most fun I ever had ragging somebody at a baseball game.

Except when we were yelling at J.D. Drew that he was worth every penny the year after he'd held out from the Phillies and had been drafted by the Cardinals. That was pretty fun.

But now Quinn is no longer a Royal. I hope he gets a minor league contract with somebody, so that he can come back to Nashville.

And it's probably bad form to plug something twice. But here's my forum. Go there. And talk good.
Ain't life on the internet grand? I followed Bill's lead and made me a forum.

Go the the Big Stupid Tommy Talkpit. Life is terrific.

Monday, March 10, 2003

I had me the day off. Hence the two postings this morning.

Here's what I did.

1. I didn't fax my numbers in this weekend, so I had to run in to work to do it. But I was out of there by 8:10.

2. I went grocery shopping. I forgot trash bags. We're down to the last one in the trash can. I think it's good for a couple of days still. Otherwise, Bill's gonna have to start eatin'.

3. I did dishes. We were out of plates. We were also out of drinking glasses. And also silverware, cookware and I used the lid to a tupperware dish to eat my Subway sandwich off of a couple of nights ago. It was time to do dishes.

4. I did laundry. You know how I was out of plates? I was also out of clean underwear.

5. I vacuumed the living room. I've been making a concerted effort to make it look like two civilized people live in this apartment. Bill brought up a new sofa a couple of nights ago. And by virtue of being clean and rip-less it's already nicer than everything else in this apartment, including me and Bill. It made me feel ashamed of how the rest of the apartment looked. It's always fun cleaning the apartment. Look at all the tiny sheets of paper on the floor! How do we get so many pennies on the ground? Isn't it fun that we don't find all the pennies because they're the same color as the carpet and we run over them with the vacuum and it makes a horrible, horrible noise?

6. I went to a movie. Owing to that I've done my bit for king and country to act and look and smell civilized, I went to a movie. I went to see Gods and Generals.

Now a Brief Break to discuss Gods and Generals.

I read Jeff Shaara's book several years ago, and enjoyed it quite a bit. It's a prequel to his father's book The Killer Angels, which is actually one of my favorite books. The younger Shaara did quite a good job, and they made this movie out of what he did.

Just a few comments: It's a cult movie, to be honest. It's designed for enjoyment by a select few. Ted Turner bankrolled this little flick about the War of Northern Aggression, and the filmmakers are lucky because of it. It's very long (4 hours, with intermission). And it concerns itself not so much with people as events. And to somebody who's into that sort of things, that's cool.

I liked the book because of its focus on two people: Josh Chamberlain and Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson. The movie tries to emulate the book in that respect, but seems to focus on Jackson more than anything. The movie ends with his funeral procession. Sorry to ruin it for you.

I don't know. The parts about people seem so rushed. Like they took two days out of the whole shoot to film all the personal scenes, and did each take once.

It bugged me a little bit the way the participants of the war are idealized so much. But that comes muchly from Shaara' book. All the participants are doing what they do in the warfare for the betterment of all mankind. There are a couple of times characters stop to give soliloguy. Lee says, viewing the battlefield at Bull Run (or possibly Fredericksburg): It is good that war is so horrible....blah blah blah.

Roger Ebert harped on the treatment (and lack there) of the slavery issue. That those involved didn't comment so much on the issue, instead pretending that the whole issue was invisible, blah blah blah, that the southern generals were fighting more for liberty than for slavery, etc.

I see his point, but it wasn't so distracting to me.

Ultimately, I liked the movie. But I think I'm in the select few. And luckily for me, Ted Turner's bankrolling the sunofagun, so I guess we'll see The Last Full Measure before it's all said and done.

Back to what I did today

7. On the way out of the theater (there were 14 othe people watching the movie, by the way), an older couple asked me "How did you like the movie?" The movie ends before Gettysburg. I said "I liked it, but they didn't say who wins the war." The older fellow got my joke. His wife (?) didn't at first. She started to explain it to me, I think. But then she saw me grinning.

8. I ate at Quizno's. I got a Turkey Lite sub. And it was good. Go to Quizno's. Eat there. You'll like it.

And that's pretty much it. Eating Black Jelly Beans and Writing Blog. It's all good.
I had a really weird dream last night, too.

I'm driving from Atlanta, Georgia northward. And I keep pulling off the road to dodge big giant holes in the road. The interstate is cratered, as if from bomb blasts. And then I wasn't on the interstate. I was driving on a back road.

I pull off into a gas station. It's not one of the convenience store/gas stations that we have nowadays. It's just a couple of gas pumps and a booth where the attendant stands. I get out, and he's waving me over. He's shows me his book of newspapers and it's talking about the insect bombs. The attendant becomes a guy I work with, and he tells me that all this is happening because somebody stole from him.

Apparently, America's being bombed with insect bombs. Then I'm in the booth with the guy, and it's a lot bigger inside than it looks. He's got an aisle with candy and coke coolers. He shows me a crowbar, to keep people from stealing stuff. And suddenly, there's like 20 people inside this booth/store. And they all say they're hiding out from the insect bombs. And somebody says they (the enemy, I guess) moved up to spider-bombs and bee-bombs.

And we watch on TV as places get bombed. And that's when I wake up.

I've not done it justice for how weird and intense it felt to me. I woke up and had to re-establish my surroundings. I went to the bathroom and got a drink of water. I tried going back to sleep, but couldn't for a little while.

Maybe I am a little anxious about this war stuff, after all.

Or maybe it's the insect bombs.
I've been walking for 24 or 25 of my 26 years. I do something of a good job of it. I rarely fall over anymore, after I figured out that it's left then right.

I think the last obstacle in my road to Mastery of Walking is the door jamb. I'll be walking along, minding my own business. I walk through a doorframe and WHAM!. I damn near break off my little toe.

I did this the night before last. I got up to go get a drink of water. It's about 3:30 or so in the morning. I open the door to my bedroom. I try to step into the hall. Kaboom. Makes me want to cry. This one was a bad one. I broke the toenail on my right pinky toe when it hit the doorframe. I'm squeamish about toenails and fingernails anyway. So when one gets pulled up or off, I'm liable to cry and throw up.

Wasn't there a Mickey Mouse cartoon where he pulls up the toenail of the Giant character? Or was it Bugs Bunny? Seems like I remember that somwhere in the back of my mind. They should never show that cartoon again.

Thankfully, this doesn't happen often at all. Maybe 27 or 28 times a month. Perhaps it's a sign from on High just to let me know I'm not as cool as I think I am. "You think you're such a good walker? Zap!" And Aquaman sends a command to the door jamb to reach out and grab my little toe.

God's got a wicked sense of humor.

Sunday, March 09, 2003

This is one of my favorite jokes:

Two guys are in a bar on top of the Empire State Building. One turns to the other and says, "You know, last week I discovered that if you jump from the top of this building, by the time you fall to the 10th floor, the winds around the building are so intense that they carry you around the building and back into the window."

The bartender hears this, and just shakes his head in disapproval while wiping down the bar.

The second man is likewise incredulous. "Are you nuts?" he says. "There's no way in hell that could happen!"

The first man says, "It's true! Watch!" He gets up from the bar, jumps over the balcony, hurtles toward the ground. When he passes the 10th floor, he is whipped around the building and into a window. He takes the elevator back up to the bar.

The second man is aghast. "I don't believe it. It's gotta be a fluke."

And the first man repeats the trick.

Once he returns to the bar, he urges his fellow drinker to try it. The second man finally relents. He jumps over the balcony, plunges past the tenth floor and dies with a splat when he hits the ground.

The first man is peering over the edge. The bartender joins him on the ledge.

"You know," the bartender says, "you're a real asshole when you're drunk, Superman."
Another near-genius moment from the writers of the Simpsons:

The Congressman dies, and Marge says they should do CPR, and Homer starts singing CCR.

Also, the line: We're the government. We make the laws; we print the money; we breed the supersoldiers.

And as much as I like David Cross, his narration on the Oliver Beene show didn't save it for me. Why, God? Why do we have this garbage on TV, but we don't show Andy Richter Controls the Universe? I hate the Fox network sooooo much.

And here's a request for a couple of people, but for most of humanity in general. If I'm such a bear to be around--if I'm to be tolerated rather than welcomed, just let me know. I have better things to do, too.
More from the Department of Duh:

It is being reported from on high that Too Much Fast Food and Too Much Ass-Sitting in front of the TV can lead to an increased risk of obesity.

Do ya think?

Saturday, March 08, 2003

Today was my buddy Matt's last day at work. He's moving on to bigger things. We'll hang out, still. He's just moved up to Nashville. But I'll miss having somebody at work to discuss MTV's the State, David Cross, the last cool movie we saw and the blinkard stupidity of damn near everybody.

I remember I liked Matt when I'd just mentioned after dealing with somebody particularly assholish that "I hate people."

And he said "Right on."

Yep.

Friday, March 07, 2003

In today's Big Stupid Tommy post, B.S. Tommy is interviewed by TV Actor, Mr. T.

Mr. T: Hello.

B.S. Tommy: Mr. T! Holy Crap! It's Mr. T!

Mr. T: First question. Tell me the last song you heard.

B.S. Tommy: That's not really a question. It's more of a command.

Mr. T: Shut up, fool!

B.S. Tommy: Yes, sir.

Mr. T: Now answer me, fool!

B.S. Tommy: Umm...I don't really know. It was on the 80's station, and I think it was Come on Eileen.

Mr. T: By Dexy's Midnight Runners.

B.S. Tommy: Yep.

Mr. T: Next question: Tell me the last two movies you saw.

B.S. Tommy: Like in the theater?

Mr. T: Quit sassin' me! Anyplace. Your house. The Theater. Anyplace, fool.

B.S. Tommy: Well, I watched Rules of a Attraction a couple of nights ago, and Full Frontal last week.

Mr. T: Was they good?

B.S. Tommy: Rules of Attraction was badly paced, I thought. And Full Frontal wasn't terribly interesting, to be honest.

Mr. T: So, no. They wasn't good.

B.S. Tommy: Well, no, I guess....

Mr. T: Then why don't you just say no, 'stead of wasting everybody's time. When I ask you if they was good, tell me 'yes, they was good, Mr. T.' or 'No, they wasn't, Mr. T.' Don't waste everybody's time with your jibber-jabber.

B.S. Tommy: Oh. Okay.

Mr. T: Oh's right. Next question. Name me the last three things you bought.

B.S. Tommy: Ummm. A bottle of grape juice, an apple and this morning I got a Sierra Mist out of the machine.

Mr. T: Was they good?

B.S. Tommy: Well.....yes. Yes, they were good.

Mr. T: Listen to your fancy talk! Ain't you an uppity fool? You think you talk better than Mr. T?

B.S. Tommy: No, I.....

Mr. T:What are your plans for this weekend?

B.S. Tommy: Ummm, well. I have to work.

Mr. T: Shut up, I'm tired of your talking. Last question. Tell me the last five people you talked to.

B.S. Tommy: Umm, counting you?

Mr. T: Not.

B.S. Tommy: Ummm...Greg Sandidge. The checkout lady at Kroger. Mary Ann and Shannon at work, and Tommy Harrell.

Mr. T: What did you talk about?

B.S. Tommy: Seriously?

Mr. T: No, not seriously, fool. This interview's over!!!!! Where's my whiskey?!!!!!!

Thursday, March 06, 2003

Here's what I ate today:

Breakfast: Slimfast Shake. A pear.
Snack: Banana
Lunch: no real lunch. I snacked on Planters peanuts and dried fruit all day.
Supper (4 PM): A piece of fried chicken, one hot wing and a couple of celery stalks.
Dinner (8:45, after work): A turkey sandwich, a roma tomato, some bugles.

And I might make some popcorn. What do you think about that?

Wednesday, March 05, 2003

I was driving today. Had something on my mind and I had to get out of the house for a little bit. I drove vaguely east, towards the communities of Milton, Lascassas, Auburntown and Prosperity, Tennessee. It was cloudy (again) but warm, so I had the windows open and the radio played songs I liked.

Oh the things I saw!

A graveyard called the Prosperity Cemetery.

Bison! I'm not kidding. I think they're hybridized with cows and called Beefalo, but I saw them. And it was cool. They were all looking vaguely west, opposite the direction I was going.

A snake, dead, in the road. It must have been warm enough for it to come out. It was also warm enough for it to be run over, I guess. Come to think of it, I saw a lot of animals dead on the road. It's mating season, and they go crossing major highways in search of something cool. And find something uncool. I saw skunks, groundhogs, a raccoon, an opossum, a dog and a rabbit (I think).

I saw more beer bottles, cans and twelve-pack cartons along the side of the road than I'm happy to say. Sometimes, I really do hate people.

And there were a lot of houses that were in sad states of disrepair. Some, the owners obviously don't have an inclination toward neither maintenance nor garbage disposal. It's much easier, I guess, to throw it out in the yard. Other homes, the occupants may not have the youthful energy required. I don't know which made me feel worse.

Still, when the detritus of the human condition leaks out on the road in the form of Little Tikes plastic toys and yard tools, one wonders exactly what has gone on there. There's little more disconcerting than coming around a curve and having to swerve to avoid one of those orange cars that a toddler can get in and "drive." I actually stopped on the side of the road to look up at the little brick house to see if there was anything amiss. I saw nobody. The road was deserted, and after a couple of seconds, I decided to get out and move the toy out of the road. I also kicked the remains of a rake farther into the ditch. The little car was in the lane of traffic. Maybe, it was blown there by the wind. However, as I did this, I noted how absolutely still the world seemed. It was one of the oddest, quietest moments in all my life. No wind. No cars. No birds. No noise from anywhere. It was like everything decided to hold its breath, like maybe I was the subject of some odd experiment and they didn't want to distract or detract. And to be honest, I felt a little more exposed than I liked. I got back in the truck and drove on, taking one last look up at the house.

And then the Swamp Monster jumped out of the ditch and tried to claw out my soul!!!!!!

Just wanted to tell you all about it. It's all true, except that part about the Swamp Monster. He just wanted a ride to Auburntown.

Not to change the subject too much:

According the e-mail from Julie, my new name is now Pinkie Gigglebreath.

Hers is better. Boobie Cootiesniffer. She wants to be referred to as "Boo," but I think time will tell how well that nickname sticks.

Tuesday, March 04, 2003

And now the moment you've been waiting for:

Here are the top ten movies man has yet made. In all of history.

In descending order:

10. Transformers: the Movie

Dude...Optimus Prime Dies! I saw this with Tregg Kirkland, Linsey Chesnutt and Browdy Fain at the Plaza Twin in Athens, TN. It was a Tuesday night. We were the only people in the theater. It's great because they say "shit" in it. Once. And when they first put it on video, they edited it out.

9. Police Academy 2: Their First Assignment

The part where Jones is making noises in the restaurant is classic. And Bubba Smith makes a bear sound. There's the part where Vinny Schtumann eats a candy bar he finds in the trash can. And when they subject Mauser ("M as in Man, A, U, S as im Sam.....E, R sir.) to a body cavity search. It's probably the most formative movie in my life.

8. Four Weddings and a Funeral

I mean seriously: What the Hell is going on in this movie? There's Andie MacDowell and Hugh Grant, and somebody dies and they talk about doing the deed. But I just don't understand any of it. It makes me feel all funny. And I cry, and cry, and cry. What is going on? I don't understand my emotions! It's funny, but it's also so sad. The guy dies!

7. The Thirteenth Warrior

This is probably the sweatiest movie of all time. It has all the elements of a great movie: Vikings, Cannibals and a lone Muslim who gets Urine rubbed on him when he gets hurt. The movie stirs something visceral within me. After I watch it, I usually go outside, pee against a tree and eat a chicken.

6. Best of the Best

Absolutely the best Bad Karate movie of all time. It stars two siblings of Hollywood's elite. Eric Roberts plays Alexander Grady, and he's from Portland, Oregon!!!! And then there's Sean Penn's little (but much bigger) brother, Chris Penn!!!!! He plays Travis Ripley, and he's an asshole (I identify most with Travis). He calls the Oriental Guy Yellow! He says "Drop him like a toilet seat!" And there's a character named Sonny Grazo, who has to explain twice that he's Italian. Add James Earl Jones and Sally Kirkland to the Mix, as well as a bad guy with an eyepatch....It's wonderful. Once Bill started watching when he wondered aloud if the main character was going to kill the bad guy, and James Earl Jones says "No!"

5. Suburban Commando

Starring Terry "Hulk" Hogan and Christopher Lloyd. Hulk Hogan is Ramsey, and he's an intergalactic bounty hunter, who has become the hunted! Little known fact: The Undertaker plays one of the bad guys chasing after Ramsey. At the climactic chase, The Undertaker's character, who has remained silent the whole film, warns: "You're a Dead Man, Ramsey!" But his voice has been dubbed in by a little child. Believe me. Hilarious. Quit looking at me that way.

4. Ernest Saves Christmas

There's a part where Ernest tries sneaking into a movie lot by disguising himself as a snake handler. And it's funny. And the guy who replaces Santa can't bring himself to say Son of a Bitch. I guess I'll never be Santa.

3. Beavis and Butthead do America

David Letterman does the voice of the guy who's supposed to be Butthead's dad. He's credited as Earl Hoffert. But that's Dave's movie name. He used the name in Cabin Boy, too. It's also got one of the finest bits of comic timing when Beavis and Butthead wake up, and try to figure out where their television is. Butthead goes from broken window to footprints on the floor to missing television. And he does this like four times, going "Hmmm."
And for line: "Yes, is this a God Dam?"

2. DefCon 4

Absolutely the scariest movie of all time. So scary, that I've never seen it. Bill told me it was scary, and if it scares Bill, it would kill me. It's the second greatest movie of all time.

And the Greatest Movie of All Time is:

1. Superman 3

Richard Pryor trying to figure out how to shove both keys into their respective locks at the same time. Superman drunk in a bar, flipping peanuts at the mirror and shattering it. The subtle love story between Richard Pryor and Margot Kidder. It's really, really good. 2 Stars!
There's an episode of the Simpsons. I'm not sure exactly which it is, but for some reason Marge and Homer are going to a black-tie event. Marge tries to remind Homer what happened the last time they went to such an event. She holds up a newspaper with a picture of Homer on the back of a donkey and they're tear-assing through some ballroom, it looks like.

Marge makes the comment "That Donkey is such a bad influence on you." From all the show, it's my favorite Marge line. I like it because it works on a couple of levels for me.

1.) It implies that Homer and the donkey have had at least a couple of encounters, and Marge knows that she'll have to make an active effort in the future, when Homer and the donkey are together, to keep the peace.

2.) That Marge holds the donkey (an animal) at least as culpable as Homer in their exploits. I just think it's as funny as hell that Homer could be influenced (I think goaded is a better word) to bad behavior by a mindless animal. In my mind, I never once thought of Marge as excusing Homer for his actions, instead blaming it on the donkey. That's not nearly as funny.

Segue:

I had to apologize to my friend Julie last night. See, when Jason and I get together, there's very little good that can come from it. And in the course of the evening last night, I said a couple of pretty stupid things. Things that when you get into your truck, drive away, and think about how the night went, you realize what kind of an ass you possibly made of yourself, now. Actually, that's kind of the story of my social life, in general. From age 15 or so up to current age 26.

We did make the comment that Jason and I are terrible influences upon the other. This is true, actually, of a lot of my guy friends. If you were to put me, Jason, Bill and Steven in a room together. Julie mentioned this. We all have such similar senses of humor. Mostly fart jokes.

But still. I feel badly, though I don't know necessarily that I have to. She may not have even minded. She does date Jason Davenport, after all.

I'll put that on the list of potential titles for my Autobiography:

What Kind of Ass Have I Made of Myself, Now?

Monday, March 03, 2003

The guy in the picture below...his name is Charles Barnes. He works with me. He's a good feller. He's got a bit of a twisted sense of humor. I like Charles quite a bit. I call him a sidekick.

Often I'm asked how Big is Big Stupid Tommy? Actually, this never happens. But in case you were wondering, and wanted to use something for scale: Charle Barnes is 6'7" Which puts me at approximately 8'4"
The sun came out today. Hurts my eyes. Ain't I a complaining sonuvagun?

Sunday, March 02, 2003

And for the record: No sun today.


Ain't this amazing. In case you didn't know, I'm the one on the right.
The Bob and Tom show has a commercial parody for a product called "Harassaway." It's a device attached to the neck which activates when the wearer is about to make a sexist comment.

The guy says "Nice Ass," but a electronic, ratchety voice says "You are pretty."

Yesterday, I was having a conversation at work about the state of the weather. No sun yesterday, either. Something like 189 minutes over the past 18 days now. For every hour of sunshine, we've had 5 days of clouds. Now the Annie soundtrack only makes me mad. "The Sun'll Come Out, Tomorrow....."

But this feller asks: "Do you know what's causing the bad weather?"

"What?"

"Any time they fly the space shuttle, this happens."

And I reply: "You do know that they haven't flown a shuttle in a month, now, right?"

"Yeah, but...."

And that's where the Harassaway device in my brain starts droning loudly, so that I don't have to hear any more of what's going on.
Just a couple of thoughts. Probably nobody cares about them but me. Gunny, just skip to the next entry.

My Yahoo! fantasy baseball team drafted yesterday, and once again I'm heavy with pitchers. My first six picks were pitchers. It went something like Barry Zito, Pedro Martinez, Mark Mulder, Roy Oswalt, Kerry Wood and Mark Prior. It wasn't until the seventh round that I started picking up position players.

And it wasn't because I ranked pitchers ahead of position players, necessarily, though I ranked all of those six in my top 15, and it pleases me that I got them--Randy Johnson was the only other pitcher I ranked that high, and he went with the second pick of the draft.

I've got a decent hitting lineup. Not a lot of power, though, unless Ken Griffey turns it around. I've got a waiver request in for Juan Gonzales, too. I'll take a chance in a free league.

But if you look up and down my lineup, there are a lot of guys hitting .285 and .295. I don't think I've got a .330 hitter in the group, but I'll take 8 .295 hitters over 1 .330 hitter and 7 .260 hitters, which is pretty much what I had last year. I've got speed in the form of David Eckstein and Juan Pierre.

Trouble spots: Steve Finley's really old. If Griffey doesn't have even a decent year, or stays hurt. If Mark Bellhorn was a fluke--he's my supersub. If Jose Hernandez loses his stroke completely--No K stat in the hitters stats, so there's not a lot of harm in having Jose, since he's playing at Coors Field this year.

It's a head to head league. On the whole, I think if we went by just fantasy points, I'd do okay. But it's a week to week thing, and you have only to be better than the team you're competing against. I like it better that way, anyway. Keeps it interesting.

Saturday, March 01, 2003

Joe "Joebo" Thomas knows that I'm not very smart. I think he realized this in twelfth-grade pre-calculus when he saw me trying to draw a picture using a pencil wedged in the cover of my TI-81 Calculator.

Of course, of all the people I've ever known, he probably laughed at the absolute most inopportune moment in all of history. Our teacher had been discussing a cancer scare, and Joe and I were laughing at something else (probably Brad Miller, another of our compatriots who once asked me whether I'd be going to Heaven and Hell, as if it weren't patently obvious). Joe laughed at cancer. At least, that was the implication. And we both happened to make eye contact with Ms. Bryan. By miracle, I had managed to stop laughing. Joe had not.

But I digress.

Joe knows I'm stupid. I'm often at a loss for words. Especially cuss words.

So he sent me help, in the form of Roger's Profanisaurus. I've had great fun with it in the hour or so I dug around in it. It's worth the price of admission for the F's and S's alone.

Today's profane word:

Cupcake: To expel gas into one's hand, and then deposit it into another person's face.