Sweet Up and Down

The day has finally arrived. I am leaving shortly for Des Moines for a Dave Matthews Band concert. It is gonna be legendary. Not only is it the baddest band in the land rocking out for 3 solid hours, Robert Randolph and his Family Band are opening. I don't know about you peeps, but I think Big Show Bob is ridiculously good. He plays the Pedal Steel like no one you've EVER heard. It's a guarantee that he'll come out and play a song with DMB. The only question is which one. I love him on Bayou and Watchtower but I wouldn't mind seeing what he can add to Time Bomb off the Groo Grux King album. Timmy Reynolds and Bob could start some serious shit and I know I would dig it.

I hope Dave threw that hat in the fireplace immediately after this performance.

Yeah, Robert Randolph doesn't mess around.

If going to the concert isn't awesome enough, I am going to the Vikings 1st home game on Sunday. The Vikes are playing the 49ers and I am going with a 49er fan. On top of that we are playing each other in Fantasy Football this week. On top of that, I have Favre, AP AD, and Berrian on my team. On top of that, he has Franklin Gore on his team. That's like something right out of a storybook! It's a once in a lifetime happening and I'm going to enjoy it to the utmost. That also means I'm not working Monday, DOUBLE BONUS! Might even slide in a round of golf on Monday. I don't know, I don't know if we'll have enough time. Either way I literally cannot wait to see what hap

...and we'll see you tommorrow night!

It’s the middle of September and the MLB regular season is coming to a close. As of today, the only division race that is semi-close is the AL Central with my Minnesota Twins trailing the Tigers by 4 games. There is still a very outside chance for the Rangers in the AL West as they have 7 games left with the division leading Angels and are 6 games back. The Rangers would have to pull off an impressive sweep in those 7 games, but I’ve seen crazier things happen. The NL wildcard is coming down the wire with the Rockies holding on to a 3.5 and 4.5 game lead on the Giants and Marlins. Neither the Giants nor Marlins have any games left with the Rockies so that makes it more difficult to catch them.

Let's talk about the AL Central, the worst division in baseball for yet another season. The race may be already over in some peoples minds, but I am a Twins fan, so I’m allowed to have hope. The Twins do have 7 games left with the AL Central leading Tigers. If the Twins can go 5-2 or better in those games, they may just win the division. It’s not like the Twins and Tigers weren’t in this same situation in 2006. The Twins won the last game of the season and watched on the big screens with a packed H.H.H. Metrodome crowd as the Tigers lost to the Royals, giving the Twins sole possession of 1st place for the first time during the ENTIRE SEASON on the last day of the season. That was fun. I liked that. I’d like to see it happen again. Let’s try and forget what happened in the ALDS versus Oakland. I’m still trying to.

I’m not sure how the Twins are still competing (other than that they play in the AL Central) but they are hanging on. It will be tough going forward after losing 2006 AL MVP Justin Morneau to a back injury. Despite only playing in 135 games, Morneau reached the 30 HR, 100 RBI mark and the Twins are going to miss his presence on the field and in the batters box.

That hurts me more than it hurts you, Justin.

The way things look, IF the Twins managed to win the division, they would play the Yankees in what I have dubbed “Home Run Hall”. Wait…that is stupid. How about “Yank Me Over the Fence Stadium”, or “Bomb Hitting Ballpark” or “We Employ a Bunch of Overpaid Bums So Let’s Put the Fences at 300 Feet So We Can Win By Hitting Long Pop Ups”. I think I like the last one the best.

The Twins have 3-23 record at Yankee Stadium (old and new) under Ron Gardenhire. I’m not even mad. That’s amazing. That record includes the 7 losses (including 3 consecutive walk-offs) against the Yankees this season. I’d say the Twins have a pretty good chance to go to the ALCS. Yeah, that’s right; I said the Twins are going to the ALCS. They just have to win the division first. Some may think I’m crazy. I’d like to call it thinking outside the box. Here are my reasons:

1. The Yankees have to choke sometime. It’s probably going to be in the ALDS (I guarantee A-Roid is going to).


2. The Twins have Joe Mauer.


3. It’s really tough for one team to beat another team 9 times in one season.


4. The Dome, in its last season, is going to be ROCKING for games 3 and 4 (if necessary).


5. The Dome turns on fans in the bottom of the ninth to help the Twins hit late homers.


6. I got a feeling (woooo hoooo), that this season’s gonna be a good World Series win, that this season’s gonna be a good World Series win, that this season’s gonna be a good, good World Series win. Mazel Tov.

That's some sound logic if you ask me. In all seriousness, I think the Cardinals are extremely tough right now and with Carpenter and Wainright as a 1, 2 punch in the NLDS, it would be nearly impossible not to see them playing LA or Philly in the NLCS. So I guess that settles it, Twins will be World Champions. No one can win any games at the Dome in the Series. It will be like ’87 all over again. Down go the Cards.

Let’s take a look inside the NFL, shall we? Obviously the Vikings are heavily favored to win the Super Bowl. I mean, Favre teamed up with AP AD and the returning top run defense in the NFL? Why don’t they just give us the trophy? Ok, I may be a little bias. You can’t deny that AP is a beast. If you don’t believe me, watch this about 20 times and get back to me. I also happen to love the Favre move. I don't care if he missed training camp. I don't care if he retired (twice). I don't care if some people think he dragged it out for attention. I do know that he is the Vikings best option at QB. The right handed Mike Vick can go walk into oncoming traffic for all I care. Not only is it a good move for the team to be competitive and sell tickets, it's a biiiiig middle finger to all those die hard Fudgepacker fans out there. I do have a jersey, it is purple, and it has a #4 on it. I have and am still seriously considering going to Lambeau on Nov 1. It would be absolute insanity to walk in there with a Favre jersey that isn't green and yellow. I dig it. I do think the Vikes will win the division and like every year since Gary Anderson became the Ray Finkle of the Vikings, they will probably lose in the first round. That’s just how they get down.

You are home Brett, you really are. Now throw Bernard Berrian the ball so I can win week 2 Fantasy Football.

It’s too early to tell who the non-obvious good teams are going to be and NFL injuries can kill any great team anyway so it's tough to make a good prediction. That being said I’ll pick the Vikings and the Pats/Steelers/Colts/Chargers. Does anyone care? I’m not sure I even care right now, especially about the AFC. Here's a poll question: Who are your World Series and Super Bowl teams as of the moment you read this post? Go.

Independence Day

[Editor's note: This post is somewhat overdue and I apologize to my faithful readers. I hope not to have lost you as faithful readers. I love my faithful readers. Yeah, I'm gonna say it one more time. Faithful readers. In my defense, I've spent 3 weeks in FL, where I worked from 5 to 5, seven days a week. Then I had a week's vacation before I went out to Las Vegas for a week's worth of work. So I've been kind of busy. This blogging thing is a bigger time commitment than I originally thought. I don't know how Hammen pumps out posts like it's his job. He's like Superman or something. Check it out; the link is listed in the starting lineup on the right. Well without further ado, enjoy.]

The day begins with a good morning text from Addy D at 10:17 am, 'Big Guy?' I was asleep in some bedroom. It was really quite comfortable and like the previous morning (mostly every morning, mostly), I wasn't moving too swiftly. Three more texts in 10 minutes and we were rolling. Not before I did some major work in their bathroom though. A-thank-you.

I had no idea where we were relative to home base or where the Shorturican was. Addy kept trying to tell me it was like the morning in the movie The Hangover. I am reluctant to compare it to that for a few reasons, which I'll share right meow.

1. We weren't in Vegas.
2. I remembered everything that happened from the night before.
3. We weren't hungover.
4. There wasn't a tiger in the bathroom.
5. Ant had his cell with him thus it took us 48 minutes to find him rather than 48 hours.
6. He wasn't on the roof of the casino like the guy in the movie. Oops! Spoiler alert!

Luckily for me, Addy had been doing some detective work with his fire fingers and Anthony was taking a cab to meet us at a central location. We find Ant at a Dunkin Donuts sitting with a strange Asian man. Why was he sitting with a stranger? That's pretty much his standard operating procedure. We exchange war stories from the night's adventure, which brought up the interaction with Ant's morning cab driver. After some small talk, the cabbie asked Ant if he 'had intacoawse.' He proceeded to tell Ant that he 'would nevah have intacouwse anymore' because he was afraid of what could happen in today's world. Anthony refrained from responding to the cabbie's inquiry.

After a journey to the center (some excellent camera work at the 27 sec mark) of the earth for a subway ride, we arrived at the prestigious Harvard University. After a short history lesson, we found a place to get some food, not that exciting, but Ant grabbed an apple from the basket on the way out the door. That apple cost us later on in the day. Anthony didn't eat it. He simply carried it around. I don't know why. He's an odd character.

After we took the tour, we met the founder of the University, John Harvard, he told us that we should check out the football stadium. So that is exactly what we did.

We then found a bus route that would take us back to the apartment. At this point, it is hot out, it was afternoon, we are still wearing the same clothes from the day before, and we were tired. Did I mention that it was the 4th of July? Apparently that means the bus schedule isn't exactly accurate. After what seemed like an eternity, the right bus is rolling toward us from a distance. Obviously that was the best time to start throwing the uneaten apple Ant had been carrying around for the last 3 hours. So instead of flagging down the bus, we looked like 3 guys that were playing catch with an apple that just happened to be at the bus stop. Sometimes, I wonder how many times our mothers really dropped us on our heads as babies. After the bus blew by us we began walking. We ditched the apple and caught the next bus 30-45 minutes later.

I blame J. Harvard. What? You're too smart for that apple?

After a 20 minute bus ride we still have a 10 minute walk to our destination. During that walk a decision is made that we need to buy a football for the beach (the beach we never made it to that day). CVS Pharmacy had what had to be the worst football ever made for the bargain price of $9. A sound investment. Of course we bought it and played catch with it on the streets the rest of the way back. After some showers, a power nap, and a jam session, we camped out on the front lawn with 18 BL smoothies and went to work. The afternoon entertainment came by way of my cell phone which has a feature that reads text messages aloud. The voice sounds like a retarded robot lady. This became the funniest thing in the world for the next hour. Addy and Ant were sending me texts from 3 feet away so we could hear them aloud. Here are some of the good ones.

O m g o m g l o l ho ho koopa thats what she said. Lets go dare ren. Lets go dare ren. Dare ren cas pers. I love when girls put fingers in my butt hole.

Well after looking through them, the rest are too 'funny' to share. Of course by 'funny' I mean graphically inappropriate. Sorry to get your hopes up. Shortly after we killed the 18 pack, we began our journey to the public transit system with twinkles in our eyes while the burning pride of freedom swelled in our hearts. It was our nation's 233rd birthday and we would not go quietly in to the night. We would NOT vanish, without a fight. We were going to live on. We were going to survive. That night, we celebrated our Independence Day! We started our celebration with some apps and taps. Oysters, chicken strips, and Guinness. Good start. Down by the river, down by the banks of the River Charles, that's where you'll find the fireworks celebration. That was the plan. Sometimes plans change.

While walking down a winding Boston street, it comes to our attention, all at once, that there was a gathering on a rooftop across the street. Within 0.75 .......no, 0.63 seconds we all three had the same epiphany; we were getting on that rooftop for the fireworks. Anthony's first idea was probably the worst of the night. He yelled, "HEY!" multiple times at the top of his lungs trying to get the attention of a rooftop partygoer (see: mother dropping baby on head discussion above). Can't fault his enthusiasm though.

Addy and I had a better idea. We went to the buzzer, where he started mashing every button on the panel. Not 10 seconds after that, the door was unlocked. As we climb the stairs, still in shock that the door opened, we hit another potential road block. An apparent resident of the building (her name turned out to be Lexi) stops us in our tracks. Luckily, we happened to be 3 of the most handsome, charming, funny men in America and much less importantly, Lexi had had 1 too many (we found that out when she said "I'm wasted!"). We quickly passed her interview. I think it mostly had to do with us being from MN and absolutely nothing to do with her BA level. Mostly. She showed us a different set of stairs that were inside her apartment that led to the roof. I'm still baffled how that worked but Addy was convinced that the 'regular' stairs we started on, didn't go to the roof. A few more flights and we were basking in the glorious Boston air.

We got to the roof within 10 minutes of forming what I originally thought to be a shitty pipe dream. That's gotta be some kind of record. You know why it happened? Because good things happen to good guys. Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention, unbeknownst to us, Maverick and Goose had requested a flyby and instead of the pattern being full (drum roll please).................................................it wasn't. We experienced a 4 jet flyby which, of course, made that moment a top ten moment in our lifetimes. Maybe top 4.

Unfortunately, the high we experienced would last for just a short time. I'm not sure what the reason was, but we didn't have any adult beverages in our possesion for consumption on the roof or a plan on how to leave the roof with any chance of getting back up. Maybe it was because we didn't really think that we'd be on the roof that easily. Maybe it was because we thought the beer was flowing like wine. Maybe we didn't think the plan through. Maybe somewhere in our subconscious we didn't want to enjoy any bevs on the roof. Maybe I should get to the point. Once we determined that there wasn't enough for all, a plan was formed to leave, purchase, and return. We were fairly confident that we could gain entry to the roof again by simply repeating the brilliant idea that was such a success our first go around. It was foolproof, right?

We made a quick run to the store a couple blocks away, not without stopping for a shot of Jameson along the way, and returned like conquering kings to the castle, ready for a night to remember. Our button mashing plan failed miserably. We waited there until another group came up to the door to enter the building. We dropped our buddy Lexi's name and we were in like Flynn. Nothing to stop us now. View? Good. Music? Good. Company? Good. Beverages? Goooooood. Here is a little pre-firework vid of our location. After watching it, I realize that you don't really need to read the last three paragraphs, but that's why I waited until now to link it. Very sneaky, I know. A couple highlights from the rooftop 4th of July bash:

We met with some actual Pittsburgh Pirates fans. That's some kind of dedication watching a team lose for 17 seasons.

Addy, while in a discussion with a young lad who had injured his fist earlier, took his first steps towards being a real world Occupational Therapist when he recommended, after the kid found out he was a hand therapist and asked his professional opinion, to soak the hand in ice water for 10-15 min.

We witnessed a hit and run on the street.

For some reason I recorded the entire fireworks show (around 15 min). I encourage you to watch the grand finale (it's only 1:41)

Of course we had a 'Let's go Darren!' chant.

The young lad with the injured hand came back with a bucket of ice water and showed Addy that he was following orders. I don't care who you are, that's funny right there.

The party got busted by the cops. I think there were a lot of young people there. We moved the party to the street and finished the rest of our beverage supply.

The details start getting hazy from here on out. There are a few semi-good stories but really none worth telling except the following. Of course that is my opinion, but let's face it, it is my blog. Sometime during the night we had befriended the group that let us up to the roof after we made our B, double E, double R, U N. I had left Addy and Ant where the party had moved to, walking with my new friends. Not really sure where we were going, but I knew we were coming back sometime which was good enough at that point. For some reason I was walking around like I owned the place and had brought an open container on our street walk. Not the brightest idea, I know, but it allowed me to pull off what I thought to be an awesome feat. While walking, I saw a cop and immediately ditched my beverage. I don't know where we went from there but it was a few blocks away. We didn't return for some 30 minutes, but of course we returned the same way. Stop me if you see where this is going. Yes, I found my beverage that I left and yes, I finished it. On the way back it was like a light bulb went off in my head because I hadn't planned this little maneuver. Sometimes the best stuff happens unplanned (see: rooftop fireworks party). If you don't like my re-return for the drink, I don't like you. It was awesome.

Sometime between the end of the party and the cab ride home we encountered a full pizza on the street. We thought it a good idea to play with it. Ant has a video with some pretty amazing footage of me and the pizza. I didn't know he was recording. I'm going to post it on here if I can get it from him.

Just brush it off! There wasn't that much dirt on it.

'Look at my Italian hat!'

A short cab ride later, we returned to the apartment, made a feast, and destroyed it. Not sure where all the time went but somehow we ended up watching the sunrise. I know we passed the time with a jam session of epic proportions. There couldn't have been anyone else within a 50 block radius because I know that music was cranked up to 11 from the time we got back until shortly before sunrise. I know we explored the attic that I didn't even know existed. It was a heck of a celebration and we definitely made the most of the weekend. If I didn't have an experience to top that weekend again for the rest of my life (aside from important grown-up stuff), I would be totally fine. Not that I'm not gonna try. I'm just saying I had an awesome time.

THERE. HAS. GOT. TO. BE. A. WAY!

I would have gotten this posted sooner but I spent the last weekend in Chi-town living the dream at Wrigley. But that's another post.

Let’s just jump right into Day 2, shall we? I am awoken somewhat suddenly to the sounds of someone tromping around the creaky wooden floors of Addy’s humble abode. I am not in the same place I fell asleep. In fact, I am confused as to where I am. I am in a bed, though I fell asleep on a living room couch. The clock on the nightstand contends that it is before 8 AM. If that is true, my body is still in pre-7 AM territory. I don’t remember feeling horrible at that moment but, add the time of day to the activities from last night, carry the 1, and it’s easy to see that I wasn’t ready to ride a merry-go-round. That said, I am not getting up unless the rightful owner of the bed comes and threatens to move me with brute force. Even then, I’d probably say, “Unless you have a crane in your back pocket, I don’t see moving me as a real option.” So, despite my unknown location, I go right back in to a deep slumber.

Somewhere around 10, I wake again. Now, for some reason I am feeling like a superstar. I get up, figure out where I am, and go check to see what’s the happity haps. My PICs were still dreaming of the catwalk girls. I prepare for a shower only to find Exhibit A (see previous post) as I enter the bathroom. More confusion. I immediately document my findings and begin searching for clues, but to no avail. After a refreshing shower, 3 ibuprofen, and some clean clothes, I decide it's time to wake up the boys. I don’t know about you, but I hate being woken up suddenly. I prefer the gradual approach and decide to implement that in to this morning. I retrieve a glass of ice water, a small plate, 6 ibuprofen, and my camera. The following video shows what happened next. Enjoy.

After a small jam session, we developed the theme song for the weekend. The last time I was in Boston, Addy and I took in the baddest band in the land at Fenway, where they covered The Talking Heads’ Burning Down the House. I haven’t gone a day without listening to it since Fenway, shooting it to my #1 favorite DMB cover (okay, I lied. It’s tied with Peter Gabriel’s Sledgehammer). Throughout the rest of the weekend, we hooligans would bust out lyrics at a moment's notice. THERE HAS GOT TO BE A WAY, BURNIN’ DOWN THE HOUSE! Singing any part of that song was like getting a B12 shot. Definitely a big contributor to our never ending enthusiasm. The song also plays a major role in two men sharing an intimate moment later in the day….but more on that in a bit.

My stomach was calling to me at this point. I felt like I was wasting away like Michael J. Fox at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance. We hit the Heinz 57 bus down to Fenway all decked out in Minnesota Twins gear. As far as we were concerned, the Twins were in town, not the Mariners. Turns out our apparel would be somewhat of a conversation starter. We roll in to Cask and Flagon for some eats. Not long after we sat, we were approached by two different sets of MN residents, simply because of our gear. One girl came up and before she said two words, she pulls down the front of her jeans and shows us a Twins tattoo right by her hoo ha. I’m normally not a tattoo fan but when I saw that one, I got a semi.

Next up, a Fenway Park VIP tour. Ant had never been to Boston, let alone Fenway so needless to say, he was pretty excited. The tour guide began by asking what kind of fans were in the group. Instead of waiting for her to specifically ask for Twins fans, we took it upon ourselves to announce our presence with authority. The rest of the tour was just alright. It would have been great if we didn’t have to follow the tour guide around while she blabbed on and on about nothing in particular. Fenway Park is a gem because it is so small, intimate, and old. I preferred to tour it with my eyes, not my ears. There is so much to look at, that it became really annoying, having to sit through the guide's endless ramblings. I mean, the visiting Mariners were running routes in left field! We couldn't even go in to the Green Monstah seats because her 20 minute story carried over in to BP thus making it a life and death risk to venture on the wall. Weak sauce. Here are the other highlights of the tour:

Anthony yelling out ‘Yeah Smoltzy!! Yeah Smolty!!’ to get a wave from John Smoltz, as he walked back to the clubhouse from the bullpen. Maybe you had to be there.

The tattoo girl from lunch (that happened to be on the same tour) found us and got a picture with us. Anthony, not letting the opportunity slip away again, asked for a snapshot of the tattoo. His wish was granted.

We got shushed by an old lady during the worthless storytelling rants of the tour guide. Twice.

We had a random old guy take our picture. Instead of ‘Say Cheese!’ he said ‘Say Shit!’ That became our new pre-picture saying, probably for life.

Finally, at tour’s end, we nearly walked out with our FanFoto picture because we thought it was free. Once they told us it was $20, I took a picture of the picture with my camera, gave the FanFoto back and we left.

Look at how excited the Big Guy is to see Fenway.

With the conclusion of the tour, it was time to hit our favorite pre-game spot, The Baseball Tavern. A beauty of a bar with 4 levels, the fourth being the roof with a view of Fenway. Not long after arrival and shots of Jameson, we are chatting up the bartender (Lisa) with the best proposal of the night so far. We noticed the music playing on the bar stereo is being played from an i-Pod with a simple cord plugged in to the headphone jack. My phone doubles as an mp3 player AND it has DMB’s Fenway version of Burning Down the House. Of course the song had to be played for all to hear. Our determination to make it happen would be undeniable. We tried to make a deal with her but she wanted the following; a kiss between Ant and I. Not exactly what we had in mind, but being stubborn and desperate to hear the song over the bar speakers, there was no other option. It was the shortest peck in the history of straight man kisses. Addy tried to capture it on film but luckily he failed and caught only the bartenders’ reactions. Now was the moment we had been waiting for since the idea was hatched. I’d like to say that when I plugged the phone in and pressed play, glorious sound filled the room putting us in musical heaven. But I can’t say that. I can’t say it because it didn’t happen. Instead when the phone was plugged in, we heard silence with the crackling speakers echoing ‘Homo! Homo!’ Actually, Addy was chanting it. Don't worry, right after that, we hi-jacked the i-Pod and became bar DJs and TOTALLY redeemed ourselves.

Despite having my dreams crushed, I still managed to win a dollar from Lisa and some props from the crowd. After about a 5 second pour of peppermint schnapps missed its intended container and ended up covering the bar, my instincts kicked in and I went in for a fake lick of the bar. That led her to offering me a dollar if I actually did it. I would have done it for free, so naturally 3 seconds later I am cleaning up the spill like it was Exxon Valdez. After countless cheers and high-fives from the other patrons, I collected my dollar and was asked to be in several photos holding my spoils. Interesting the things that bring fame and fortune these days. Now that we were well prepared, to the Sox game we go.

We managed to slide in to our seats moments before the 1st pitch after dominating some steak tips and Italian sausage right outside the Fenway gate. The food was so good, we started pushing it harder than the vendors while eating it. The game did not disappoint. Lots of offense, homers, a famous song, one of the best Waves I have ever seen, all topped off with a home team comeback to bring us bonus baseball (which we watched from behind home plate). The only thing that could have made it better was a Sox win. Not that I am a fan of the Sox. I am a fan of walk offs. Short of a strikeout to complete a perfecto/no-no, walk offs are the best way to win ballgames (and I would have loved to hear Dirty Water again at Fenway).

Between pitches at the game, there were some other happenings that occurred. At some point during the game:

We came back to our seats after a beer/bathroom break to find people in them. We then became friends with them, and met them out, after the game.

Anthony called his mother.

There was a lengthy discussion with a Boston Globe employee about the internet's effect on the dying newspaper industry.

Anthony swore at the old lady behind us because he thought she asked him ‘What is the f***ing score?’ Turns out that's not what she said. When she got pissed at him for swearing he apologized.

We began another theme of the weekend.

Each of us took some heckling from various Sox fans about our Twins apparel.

Anthony found an interesting looking pole, and then got kicked out of the section when he commented on it next to a couple kids.

After the Sox game, we head over to the Cask to meet our new friends that tried to steal our seats. I know one reason we befriended them was because at least one guy was from MN. He also happened to look like Bill Murray circa 1980. While waiting in line to get in, we spot a guy that looks kind of like William Hung, wearing a White Sox hat. We let him have it with everything we had. We chanted ‘White Sux suck!’; ‘3rd place White Sux!’; ‘She bangs! She bangs!’; and we sang ‘Go Cubs gooooo!’ At first he tried to dish it right back at us and seemed legitimately pissed. He even dared us to be ‘Loudah, loudah, loudah!’ with a huuuuuuge Boston accent which made us crack up even more. When he realized he wasn’t winning the battle, he got over it and then it was cool.

The details of the night get more and more hazy from here on out. I know I got a picture with a guy wearing a Vlad Guerrero Expos jersey shirt and we got free drinks from another guy just because we had Twins gear on. In fact, 'Hi, we're from Minnesota' was pretty much a pick-up line that never failed on girls OR guys. We left the Cask for greener pastures following the Shorturican. Addy and I lost him on the way, when we met some people. Guess where they were from. The new crew made it in to another bar where we got mixed up with some Irish fellas and the next thing I know, I'm being kicked out of the bar, and whisked in to a cab without Addy. At this point, all three of us are separated and none of us know the whereabouts of the others. Really, I'm not even sure if I'm still in America. A 15 minute cab ride later, I arrive at an apartment and am given a fresh beer. That was enough to make me feel right at home. To my suprise, Addy arrives shortly with the rest of the crew and the Irish guys. We proceed to play tippy cup on the deck until the neighbors come out and yell at us. I don't know what their problem was. Who doesn't play drinking games on a deck at 3:30 AM? Losers. Shortly after that, the night ended with a serious pass out session.

I don't know who you are, but will you marry me?

Dolla dolla bill y'all!

Cinderlla story. Outta nowhere. A former greenskeeper, now, about to become the Masters Champion.

Hey! It's the Big Guy(s)! Babaganoush Special

I just came back from the greatest weekend of my young life. I still can't believe some of the things that transpired. It is the perfect example of what can be accomplished when you get 3 good friends together with unlimited enthusiasm and a love for getting out there and mixin' it up. So many ridiculously funny things happened that I had to make an outline for each day to help me get it all down. I am going to break it into 3 posts just to keep my 3 readers in suspense. It seems appropriate, but mostly it's necessary. Mostly. I doubt I can do the experiences any justice. No, I know I can't. That's how awesome it was. If these posts entertain you at all, then get out your TI-83 and multiply that entertainment level by a million. That is the level we maintained for longer than I thought possible. Now that I've really got you jacked up, like when hunting an effing human being, I'll try not to disappoint.

To understand the experiences, I need to give a short breakdown of the characters. Actually just 1 short breakdown and 1 tall one. All three of us came from the same place growing up which gives us endless amounts of inside jokes and stories that never get old. Every single one of those came out on this trip and we probably made a couple hundred more.


Anthony James (AKA The Big Guy, Shorturican, Ant): Easily the funniest guy I know. You hang with this guy, you'll be rolling non-stop. Never a dull moment as he rarely quits talking. We had a code word to be used in the event that he was rambling too much whilst conversing with strangers. Muzzle.

Addy D (AKA The Big Guy, Babaganoush): Not really my Boy in high school but, randomly ended up at the same college, became roommates, and he's been my Boy ever since. He's the Big Guy and I love the Big Guy.


The tale begins on Thursday. It was a beautiful day in Omaha and I had no issues getting to MSP for my short layover. I enjoyed a nice snoozerelli in my spacious first class seat. I dominated some Mac and Don's breakfast in the Twin Cities airport. Everything was peachy. Buuuuuuuut it wouldn't be right if I had no travel delays. Happens to me every time. I know what you're thinking, it happens to everyone, you aren't special, quit your complaining, blah blah blah. NO. You can't say anything to me until you've had your flight canceled, rescheduled for the next morning, spent a night in a hotel on your own dime, had your flight delayed 3 hours the next day, flew an hour 1 way to the land of Paul and Babe, waved a quick hello, and returned to where you just came from, all because of a pesky 5 mph tail wind. If that happens to you, then we can talk. ANYWAYS...Once I see my flight is delayed I immediately start sending expletive texts to Addy, expressing my love of airline travel. Turns out I may have slightly overreacted as it was only a 1.5 hour delay. Sorry I blew up.

Fast forward to a picture message received from Ant, featuring a pint of Guinness and the title 'It begins!' This leads me to thinking I need to get my game face on ASAP. Previously unknown to me, drinks in 1st class are free. Had I known this earlier, I may have been a puddle by the time I hit Logan International. After my first JD and DC, I tell the flight attendant that I don't want to see an empty glass on my tray table until I have to put it in an upright and locked position. She obliges. I partially forgive the airline for the delay. After I land, I catch some public transit vehicles to meet the Shorturican. We enjoy some McDonald's nuggets (purchased out of necessity to be allowed to use the bathroom as there are essentially zero public facilities anywhere) and then a monstah slice of pizza before going to meet Addy at his place of business.

Once off the train, we are immediately asked for spare change by a homeless guy sitting on some steps. Turns out it wasn't a homeless guy, it was Addy, waiting to pounce. After some platonic man love is exchanged, we go back to Addy's for a quick re-group and then head out for some beeahs. Now, although nothing of epic proportion happened (like a 4th of July rooftop party...foreshadow?) while at the bars, it was an awesome time. We started the 1st of many themes of the weekend, Jameson shots. We took down at least one at every bar we hit. It was sort of a gearing up for the weekend festivities. Ant spotted some 'good light' for some pictures, we had some nice convos with some locals, there were some dancing girls on a catwalk, and Ant video interviewed a guy doing coke on the street. There were shots of tequila, Jameson, Jag supplemented with BL smoothies and Guinness. Brilliant!

After close, we catch a cab back to Addy's but not without a little pit stop at the 7-11 for some late night health food. Ant was fighting the urge to call up the dinosaurs. We let him keep the cab driver company while purchasing a feast for the evening. Back at Addy's, after utter domination of the entire bag of chips whilst still in the cab, I turned the oven to burn and threw in the pie. Incidentally, burn was slightly warmer then what we needed but we welcomed the black crust with open mouths. Pizza, music, pass out on the couch. Successful day 1 in the books.*


*There was an event that was not witnessed, nor remembered by anyone but definitely took place sometime before morning on the 2nd day. The evidence is somewhat graphic but was well documented. Exhibit A (shown below): A note left on the toilet lid from Addy's roommate that read Whoever missed the toilet, there's some over by the shower too----->. Exhibits B and C (not shown): Photos of what the note was referring to. I'll leave the rest up to imagination.

Exhibit A

Oh check it out! That is some AWESOME light! Snap a couple photogs.

Shippin' up to Boston

I am about to make a return to the banks of the River Charles. That dirty water is calling my name, beckoning me East. How can I refuse? Thursday I depart for Bean town, on my way to sights, sounds, beeahs, and cheeahs. I was there at the end of May (that is where I would have a link to a blog I wrote about that trip but since I didn't have a blog then, I'll reference my boy Shawn's post about the trip here) and I had an awesome time. I think everybody in the entire town knew that I had an AWESOME time. We will be attending a game at Fenway. It will be my 2nd game (2nd game at Fenway vs. the Mariners too) at the historic ball park which means until the game I've seen more concerts there then ballgames. The scouting report on 4th of July activities in Boston is pretty good, phenomenal actually. Plus my boy Addy (host of the weekend) has bunk beds. We are going to get so much more activities done. So there's that little story, now let's move on before I start quoting any more Will Ferrell.

This last weekend my roommate moved out of our apartment and into a brand spankin' new house. My massive muscles were of course needed in order to make the transition a smooth and enjoyable one. I was compensated with pizza and beer. I'd say it is some of the best tasting compensation I've received in my lifetime. Now my apartment has a lone recliner placed directly in front of the now non-HDTV. (Tangent: Only until one watches HDTV exclusively for an extended period does one realize that regular TV is not an option any longer. Same goes for DVR usage. I can't stand commercials anymore. I start watching baseball games 30 minutes after 1st pitch so I can fast forward through the commercials and still watch the end of the game right about when it's happening in real time. Needless to say an HDTV is next on the list of things to buy.) Now if I have anyone over, they are either going to sit on my lap or the floor. Hopefully the former. I could buy a couch, but I am putting that off until I move out of that shit hole in September. Breckenridge Apartments is not high on my list of 'Greatest Places to Live'. In a un-related story Breckenridge Apartments is very high on the 'Omaha's Most Overly Expensive Apartments with Very Little Square-footage and Terrible Tenant Satisfaction' list.

Here's a little interaction we had on Saturday while we were moving things into the U-Haul. A girl wanders in to our apartment and introduces herself. The dialogue is below. It doesn't factor in to why my apartment sucks. I just thought it was funny.

Random Girl: (enthusiastically) Hi!! I'm in a contest to see how many people I can meet. Can I meet you guys?
Me: (just as enthusiastic) Sure! Why not? I'm Dustin and this is Ryan.
Random Girl: I'm Holly. Are you guys moving out? That's too bad. How long have you lived here? Can I give you a high five? What's that scar on your shoulder from? Do you want to buy some magazines and help me get points that will win me a trip to Greece where I will learn another language and/or win lots of money?
Me: Yeah, let's do it. (Ryan turns her off and goes back to moving stuff)
Holly: Well here, take a look at which magazines you can subscribe to. (I begin looking) Where are you from? Minnesota? COOL! Why did you move here? Awesome! (Insert 20 more questions here that kept distracting me from what I was looking at.) So, how many subscriptions can I put you down for? Three, four, or five? And how many years? Two or three?
Me: Um, I was thinking only one, for one year. ESPN the Magazine.
Holly: Are you sure? I don't get as many points if you only do one. Okay then write down your name and address on this form. What's your last name? Oh that's a cool last name.
Me: Sure....
Holly: Well let's shake hands. (while shaking) There is a handling fee. Now I just need you to review this order form and write down your credit card information.
Me: $71 for a year?
Holly: Yeah you get weekly issues! It's only $1 an issue.
Me: I didn't think ESPN had weekly issues. I couldn't even read that many issues. I struggled reading it when I had the monthly issue subscription.
Holly: I'll come over and read it to you!
Me: That's okay. I think I just won't subscribe.
Holly: Okay let's just do one that is less expensive. How about Men's Fitness?
Me: Nah, I don't read that.
Holly: Okay well then let's donate a subscription. We can do a less expensive one and send it to a children's hospital. Which one do you want to do?
Me: What would a children's hospital need with Men's Fitness? They are all sick and probably can't read. I don't want to donate a subscription.
Holly: (realizing that I am not buying and looking at me like I just ran over her dog) Well what are you going to do then? C'mon, it's only $36. You said you wanted to help me go on my trip.
Me: That's alright. I think I'm going to pass.
Holly: (enthusiasm long gone, gathering her pad and pen) Well, thanks for wasting my time.
Me: You're welcome (she exits in silence and knocks on the next door 10 feet away....boom! right back into enthusiastic Holly).

Some may have turned her off right away, like my roommate did. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I like to let them sell me. Sometimes I like to give them false hope before smashing their dreams. I'll let you decide which this was. I want to be sold. I want you to tell me why it is the sweetest magazine subscription ever and why I should give a crap about your trip. I may just agree that it is the best deal on earth. But for $71 a year that magazine better be able to tell the future. Incidentally, unless she forgot to mention that fact, it couldn't.

PS I went to something called Limestone Days in Weeping Water, NE this weekend and witnessed Donkey Polo. Here's my description of Polo: rich guys riding on horses playing croquet. Here's my description of Donkey Polo: anyone who wants to, riding on a donkey, getting bucked off while trying to hit a big bouncy ball between two buckets at either end of a 20 by 40 foot pen. The donkeys don't take direction well. There are actually big farmer guys in the pen pushing the donkeys so they actually kind of move in the right direction. Good stuff.

Omaha and me

Well this is my first post on my first blog. It's a little weird. Who is going to read this? Only time will tell. Let me start off with a little background info on yours truly. I have just finished my 1st year in the working world as an engineer in Omaha. So far, it's been a crazy ride. I'm originally a Minnesota boy so I moved here knowing a grand total of 5 people. 3 of those 5 are my Uncle, cousin, and his wife. The other 2 are my roommate and his girlfriend, with whom I went to college. In just a short year's time, I've managed to spread my wings and meet all sorts of cool people, mostly through fellow co-workers. I feel like I've conquered the Omaha scene and feel a little more like a local. Let's break down the pros and cons of Omaha as I see them after a year's evaluation:

Pros
-I have a job that pays
-The winters are weak sauce compared to the Great White North
-I work with some good people
-I have climbed out of a moster credit card debt hole
-Husker games and CWS right in my backyard
-DMB played in my backyard also (that never would happen in B-town)
-The golf season is more than 1 month long

Cons
-My job isn't technically a Chemical Engineering job
-The summers are 1000% more humid compared to the Great White North
-No pro sports teams in the city (hello 4-5 hour drives to games, you seem familiar)
-No Twins baseball on TV (unless you spring for MLB extra innings on an impulse buy, oops?)
-No Wild hockey on TV
-My best friends don't live here
-8 hour drive to Bemidji or $400 flight that may circle Paul and Babe before going back to MSP.
-No real lakes or Star Island

Like anything in life, you have to take the good with the bad. So there it is. Just a single guy livin' the dream without a care in the world. Watch out Omaha, year 2 can only get better.