Soccer breakdown in 3, 2, 1...

Thanksgiving is finally here and I can't tell you how badly I needed a holiday. This is the time of year where work seems to get less important for everyone and the shift of importance goes to eating and watching football. I like that shift. This time of year is awesome. My company has 8.5 paid holidays and 5.5 of them are crammed into the time between the last Thursday in November and the glorious 1st day of the new year. For those of you counting at home, that's 5.5 days out of what would normally be 27 work days. Three out of the next six weekends are the ever so coveted '4 day weekends.' My Minnesota High School math tells me that is half, or 50% in layman terms. Those are the kind of numbers I can deal with.

There are some downfalls to the next 27 days, however. Should I so choose to spend these holidays with my immediate family, I will have to make the 16 hour round trip up I-29 to the great white north for two of the three weekends. I suppose I could try and fly home, but that gets expensive, even for someone employed by Dan Patrick, and there is no guarantee that the plane will actually land in Bemidji (see paragraph 5). The possibility of a blizzard could strand me there (which wouldn't be so bad....no work!), but mostly it will force me to drive back in horrible conditions because I don't know when to admit defeat when regarding weather, which will put me in the ditch somewhere on White Earth Reservation. At some point I got it stuck in my head that my Grand Am has a 3.5 foot clearance with 4 wheel drive, kind of like a Hummer.

I am making the journey today, and to combat the drive I will be listening to the daily podcast of who else but DP. As I said before, it's radio gold. Once that is over and I still have 6 hours of driving left, I plan on watching some blu rays on my laptop. If that gets old/dangerous, I'll put iTunes on shuffle. Yes, you have that right, I don't have a working iPod, so my computer doubles as an iPod for long car trips. It's the only way to road trip in my opinion. iPod screens are way too small to watch movies while driving.

Anyways, wish me luck and I wish all 3 of my readers, dubbed the Dangelettes by Reggie Miller, (Meow, Jim, and SSWY) a Happy Turkey Day. Here's to eating one big meal, throwing it up, and going back for a second. That is one of my Turkey Day goals.
You may be wondering what the title of this post is referring to. Wonder no longer. Soccer breakdown in 3, 2, 1.

Arcade Fire!

After a long, drawn-out, 46 day negotiation between DG (the talent) and Blogger© (upper management), a contract extension agreement has been reached that will keep a stream of impeccably written satire on the world wide interweb for the greater part of our lifetime. The original contract for blog author of These pretzels are makin’ me thirsty was set to expire at the end of 2009 but, due to the great success and massive cult following, the critically acclaimed writer demanded a mid-season re-negotiation of contract.

The details of the contract have not been released but sources close to DG say the demands were met. When asked of his demands DG was quoted as saying this, “I’m tired of people talking about money, money, money, money, money. I just want to write the blog, drink Pepsi, and wear Reebok. We [writers] might make a lot of money but, we also spend a lot of money.” Obviously words to live by.

This hold-out during negotiations left many fans in a state of distress yet anxious for a deal to be reached. Not all readers were impressed, however, as shown by this man’s take on the situation, “What? The guy has eight posts and thinks he can make demands? That’s like if Joe Montana demanded a contract re-negotiation after his first completion in training camp. Grow up Peter Pan.”

Although the contract has been signed, the frequency of future posts is still a question mark. Only time will tell if this new contract will motivate brilliance or complacency.

The above was an article taken from the USA Today and was thought to be relevant to my readers. I will not deny or confirm the statements made by the article. I hope to put this alleged incident behind me and move forward as if it did or did not happen.

I’d like to take some time to tell you what I’ve really been diggin’ lately. My favorite part of every weekday is listening to the greatness that is The Dan Patrick Show. It’s so good, I can’t fathom how I ever lived without it. I’m having trouble even writing this because I am so intently listening to the podcast right meow.

I think the best thing about it, aside from its riveting interviews and tremendous sports insight, is the humor that is interweaved throughout the entire program. It’s the type of humor that is so subtle, you might think that Dan and the Danettes were serious if you weren’t a regular listener. The guys on the show call it tongue in cheek, which is a phrase I have always heard, but never cared enough to figure out what it meant. As it turns out, that is exactly the humor I get down with. It’s almost as if DP doesn’t want you to know for sure if he is joking even though he most certainly is, and yet he says it so seriously. I love it.

The show has also been on Direct TV channel 101 since the beginning of August. Sure, I know what you're thinking, how can radio show be on TV? The mothership has radio shows on TV (i.e. Mike and Mike in the Morning, The Herd with Colin Cowherd) and it's pretty much what you expect, guys sitting, talking into mics. What if I told you the DP show has a basketball hoop where they shoot jumpers during the break? What if I told you there is a golf simulator where DP plays Pebble on Fridays? If you haven't heard the term 'Man Cave' before, google it. There is actually a show called Man Caves hosted by former NFLer Tony Siragusa that built the studio for them. Watch this and tell me that you don't want this job. That shows the lighter side of the program but I recommend listening for the interviews if you're a sports fan. It's radio gold. I'll admit, I laugh out loud.

What's that? You don't know where you can hear this amazing radio program? Let me tell you all the ways to access the DP show aside from Direct TVs channel 101. You can subscribe to the free podcast from iTunes (commercial free). Go to his site and listen live, find your local affiliate radio station, or listen to individual segments from the show. It is also broadcast over Sirius XM radio.

Does this sound like a commercial yet? Hope so. DP, I can do what Seton does. I'd be on that show in a minute. My goal in life is to become a Danette. I know it's pretty lofty, but that's who I am. I aim big. Oh, another reason DP is awesome, he is down with the Oregon Rap Community.

En Fuego

Cowboy Friday

Since I started work at my office, every week ends with Casual Friday. Basically that means I wear jeans and a polo to work instead of slacks and a button down. For most other people at the office here in Husker Nation, that means you wear Husker gear. As long as it is red and has some form of Husker logo on it, the shirt can be ratty with holes and stains. In fact, that is the preferred look. The appearance and quality of the shirt are irrelevant. I even wear a Husker shirt once in awhile. This is a story about how Casual Friday was reborn and it is AWESOME.

Wearing business casual to work doesn’t bother me. I wouldn’t even get mad if they made me wear a tie. I like ties. Anyway, back in March, I was on a 3 week business trip in the wonderful city of Wichita, KS. I was with 2 other guys from my office, GLVJ and Meow. Sometime during that stint GLVJ got the itch to buy some cowboy gear. He was asking all the locals about which store was the best for said gear. His enthusiasm was always very contagious, and soon both Meow and I were on board to go full retard, er I mean full cowboy. You never go full retard. Ask Sean Penn.

There was somewhat of a plan involved with the cowboy gear. Oklahoma City, aka OK City, is only 2 hours away from Wichita. None of us had ever been there, AND the Big 12 Championship basketball game happened to be the next Saturday. Why wouldn’t we dress up like cowboys, go to a basketball game, and hit up every bar in Bricktown? It would’ve been stupid not to, really.

After work one day we hit up a little place called Sheplers. When I say little place I mean biggest country western store in America, maybe even the universe. You could get lost in this store, literally and figuratively. We did the latter. Now, I’m not sure why we were so excited, I mean, I was not (still am not) a big country western wearin’ feller and neither were GLVJ and Meow. I’d never even tried on a pair of cowboy boots before. That changed quickly. I may have tried on every pair of size 13 boots in the store. GLVJ and Meow were right there with me. Boots were strewn everywhere up and down the aisles. We made a mess in that place for 2+ hours before we finally settled on boots, hats, shirts, and belt-buckles. All in all the 3 of us dropped a grand in that place. Meow bought the sweetest boots in the store. No doubt in my mind. If only they would have had the same in my size. I would have Indian wrestled him for the rights.

We did have a little work to do Saturday morning, so we got on the road just after noon. We didn’t have a hotel reservation yet. We didn’t have tickets to the game yet. We didn’t know anything about OK City except where it was on the map. We did, however, have our cowboy gear, our cowboy mustaches, and a whole lot of enthusiasm.

Our plan on arrival was to find a hotel within walking distance of Bricktown, change into our sweet gear while pre-gaming, take some cowboy pictures, and find a scalper to really rip off. The Residence Inn by Marriott took care of our first need. I happen to be a Platinum Elite Marriott Rewards member which means I pretty much get the key to the city. If you believe that, I’ve got a bridge to sell you. Shortly after check-in we had accomplished nearly all of our tasks and hit the streets.

The game was just starting and we were about a mile or so away. We didn’t feel like walking. Especially since they had rickshaws! So there we were, three guys in one rickshaw driven by a 130 lb kid from Becida, MN (small world right?) when we approach a scalper. GLVJ handled this guy like he’d done it a thousand times. Scalper offered three tickets for $40 each. GLVJ countered with $40 total. Mind you, we are still all three sitting in the rickshaw on the street. GLVJ tells the rickshaw operator to start it up again. We begin to leave and the scalper stops us. This sequence happened 2-3 more times before the scalper gave in at the fabulous price of $40 for three tix. That’s just over $13 for a $55 face value ticket. That’ll do GLVJ, that’ll do.

From there we saw the game, had some BBQ, and hit up every bar that we could find, in search of any OK City cowboys. We were decked out in full cowboy gear. Turns out OK City isn’t exactly what we thought it was. There wasn’t another cowboy in sight for the entire night. We may have gone to every bar in Bricktown without seeing one of our kind. The preconceived notion we had that OK City was a rip-snortin’, wild-western, gun-slingin’, spur-wearin’ place was so wrong it was mind blowing. Of course it didn’t stop us from having a great time. We had one rule: no one else is allowed to touch your cowboy hat. That was tough to uphold because there were chicks grabbing for our hats all night long. GLVJ gave me the best line for when anyone asks to wear your hat. Look ‘em square in the eyes and say, "Only in the bedroom sweetheart." I used it on multiple occasions. It was tough to beat. Here are some other things that happened during our journey.

I guess we had another rule for the night. Anytime one of us said "Yup!" the other two guys would chime in with "Yup!" and "Yup!" in order, with a few seconds in between. It was funny to us and that’s all that matters. Don't judge me.

A heroic young man broke up a fight, saving a little guy from a serious beating. Somehow we got kicked out of the bar after that like we started it or something.

Meow told a lesbian he had pointier shoes than her. True story in two ways: it happened and he did.

Some chick ended up snagging GLVJ’s hat and he got it back from her by stepping on her toes with his boots. She didn’t like him very much after that.

We wandered in to a wedding reception, liked what we saw, stayed. We even made friends with the newlywed’s parents.

We met some people in the hotel elevator just when we thought the night was over (Meow’s night was over but he played hard). GLVJ and I went to their room for an after hours gathering. Those people we met just so happened to be former Chiefs RB Billy Jones and his entourage (how he still has an entourage is beyond me, google it). We were just a couple of cowboys, livin’ it up in OK City.

The Players

Meow, aka Sweetest Boots in the Store

GLVJ, aka Mexi-stache

Yeah those are handlebars, what of it?

When we told some of our coworkers this story, one of them told us he'd buy us lunch if we all came in wearing our full gear on Friday. Thus, Cowboy Friday was born, replacing Casual Friday forever here in our office. Shockingly, I am the only one in our office of 100 some employees that observes Cowboy Friday. I'm not sure why it hasn't caught on yet. Anyway I’d recommend checking out OK City if you have a chance. It's OK in my book. As it turns out the very last bar we went into was the cowboy hang out. We got in just in time for them to kick us out because it was closing. Live and learn.

PS Twins need to sweep the Royals and the White Sox need to take 2 of 3 from the Tigers. Let’s make it happen!

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.