Seriously, I don’t even know why I still follow the J-E-T-S, Jets, Jets, Jets anymore. I feel like slamming my head against a wall until I get that sweet, sweet, concussion feeling again. That’ll make me forget the past four weeks. I promised I wasn’t going to get too excited anymore. They’ve just blown it in the past. Somehow, after the Patriots and Titans wins, I got suckered in again. It was so bad that yesterday I couldn’t even keep the tv on. I shut it off at halftime because I didn’t want to endure the hour and a half of torture. So around 7 pm, I turned it on to see the score…and then commenced to drink heavily.
To be complete honest, this might be better than the alternative of them getting some momentum, only to be beaten by the Steelers in a 2-3 seed matchup. That would have been a lot more painful to me. I would probably turn my phone off for about two weeks.
The one positive though, is that I’ve been right about the two main transactions over this off season, Favre and Vernon Gholston. When the Jets signed Favre, everyone congratulated me like the Jets were Super Bowl bound or something. I was skeptical of this trade to say the least (In fact, I got a text message at 8:15 the morning after he was signed and audibly shouted “Fuck” on the metro.) Everyone assumed that they’d be getting the Favre of last year, when the more likely result would be the Favre that sucked the past four before that. And that Favre has returned the past four weeks. Gholston on the other hand has been more worthless than…I can’t even think of the proper metaphor for it right now. Guess how many tackles he has this year? 12. Twelve fucking tackles all year, that’s all you need to know. And you wondered why I nearly lost my shit when the Jets picked him 6th last year. In the immortal words of Mel Kiper Jr, "The Jets simply don't understand the point of the draft."
Making this even worse is the fact that Chad Pennington will get votes for MVP this season. So they downgraded at that position (Sure, I made Chad jokes all the time. But I never thought he couldn’t get the job done. He was just injured that’s all.) and at the same time, jerked around one of the classiest guys in the league (He was on Page 6 once by my count. And that was because he spent all night in the hospital taking care of his kid. How that made Page 6 is beyond me.). Well done, Jets.
Well, at least there’s the offseason to look forward to. Oh wait, no its not. There will be six weeks (at least) of Favre going back and forth if he’s going to retire. And no signings are going to be done until that’s decided. My new goal is to get them to blow this whole thing up, and hire Cowher for however much he wants.
Being a Jets fan is kind of like being Scratchy. Every time you think things are going to turn out just fine. And then that’s the moment Itchy unleashes a closet full of chainsaws on you. Each year, it’s a different way of painfully dying, but the end result is the same. The only difference is this year, we have Brett Favre, aka, Poochie. Well, my only hope is that someone tells Brett his planet needs him and he has to return.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Shut Up Liver
Homer: “If I can’t drink at this bar, I might have to give up drinking.”
Liver: “Hooray”
Homer: “Shut up liver.” (Punches stomach) “Oh, now my liver hurts.”
In a previous episode I mentioned that happy hours were a key part of my management strategy. Now that I’m officially a project manager, it seems this has officially caught on. Tuesday night was the team Christmas party. We’re a team of 5 that’s a subcontractor to a company that has a team of about 23 people. All of them we’re invited and most attended. The four of us attended because it had the two best words in the English language, “Open Bar”. Apparently, this new team did not know what they were getting themselves into. In the two and a half hours, I must have had 8-10 drinks. And most of those were double Maker’s on the rocks. So you do the math. There’s nothing better than going up to the CEO of a company, drinking straight bourbon, and telling him he’s throwing a hell of a party, oh and by the way, here’s how you should be running this project.
Not content to just have drinks, we had to have zaniness ensue. When the party wound down, the bartender left for an unknown reason. So we did what every good consultant would do, we poured ourselves monster drinks. One stood guard by the door, while three of us went over and under the bar to pour drinks. One of us ripped his suit while trying to do so. Damage so far, about $300. After finishing that drink off, we hit the road, where the fun continued. Not so much for me, because I vomited all over myself. You stay classy, Barney. Another one of my coworkers went to a holiday champagne tasting with his girlfriend. He proceeded to go running through Howard University campus because he thought someone was chasing him. He ended up bruised and with cuts and he lost the back of his cell phone. Oh, and he got arrested. He didn’t get booked with anything and the cops let him go on the condition that his girlfriend pick him up. Now that’s a ryde or die chick right there. Keeping your man out of the slammer. I’m sure this will be on The Lox’s next album. I think we have our new slogan for anyone who wants to join our team: “The 8732, where happy hours end in handcuffs at historically black colleges”.
I ended up coming in Wednesday morning wearing the same clothes as the previous day (the vomit was washed out). No one actually called me on it though. I think they all understood. I mean, it’s not like they were in any better shape. They were probably worse. There’s no way they would be able to get on multiple conference calls with execs in the state they were in. Me, waking up at 6 still drunk, coming in in last night’s clothes, and still being not only functional, but highly productive? In my world, that’s called Wednesday.
Thursday was the planned shit show of the week, as my employees decided to honor me for my birthday. And they chose to honor me by sending out the evite saying that this was a “Princess Party.” Can you feel the respect? Anyway, I wore the pink tie that my daughter just bought for me (She’s old enough to pick out stuff now, so that was fun) to this event purely out of spite. Chubb Rock isn’t the only guy in my family who can rock the pink to an event (I’m sorry, that story will never get old). Thursday was fun because two of the trains I was on broke down going to the bar. I took this as a sign that it was my luck again, so I ended up walking 2 miles to the bar. There wasn’t as much craziness this time, just me drinking Jack by the glass. I was looking forward to getting my bill so I could see the damage I did to my liver, but I apparently had a cool bartender who just charged me $60 for the entire night and didn’t list anything out (He probably remembers me from the last time I was there and ran up a $100 tab in 2 hours). I came into work this morning still buzzed. Oh, and I have a Christmas part tonight.
Liver: “Hooray”
Homer: “Shut up liver.” (Punches stomach) “Oh, now my liver hurts.”
In a previous episode I mentioned that happy hours were a key part of my management strategy. Now that I’m officially a project manager, it seems this has officially caught on. Tuesday night was the team Christmas party. We’re a team of 5 that’s a subcontractor to a company that has a team of about 23 people. All of them we’re invited and most attended. The four of us attended because it had the two best words in the English language, “Open Bar”. Apparently, this new team did not know what they were getting themselves into. In the two and a half hours, I must have had 8-10 drinks. And most of those were double Maker’s on the rocks. So you do the math. There’s nothing better than going up to the CEO of a company, drinking straight bourbon, and telling him he’s throwing a hell of a party, oh and by the way, here’s how you should be running this project.
Not content to just have drinks, we had to have zaniness ensue. When the party wound down, the bartender left for an unknown reason. So we did what every good consultant would do, we poured ourselves monster drinks. One stood guard by the door, while three of us went over and under the bar to pour drinks. One of us ripped his suit while trying to do so. Damage so far, about $300. After finishing that drink off, we hit the road, where the fun continued. Not so much for me, because I vomited all over myself. You stay classy, Barney. Another one of my coworkers went to a holiday champagne tasting with his girlfriend. He proceeded to go running through Howard University campus because he thought someone was chasing him. He ended up bruised and with cuts and he lost the back of his cell phone. Oh, and he got arrested. He didn’t get booked with anything and the cops let him go on the condition that his girlfriend pick him up. Now that’s a ryde or die chick right there. Keeping your man out of the slammer. I’m sure this will be on The Lox’s next album. I think we have our new slogan for anyone who wants to join our team: “The 8732, where happy hours end in handcuffs at historically black colleges”.
I ended up coming in Wednesday morning wearing the same clothes as the previous day (the vomit was washed out). No one actually called me on it though. I think they all understood. I mean, it’s not like they were in any better shape. They were probably worse. There’s no way they would be able to get on multiple conference calls with execs in the state they were in. Me, waking up at 6 still drunk, coming in in last night’s clothes, and still being not only functional, but highly productive? In my world, that’s called Wednesday.
Thursday was the planned shit show of the week, as my employees decided to honor me for my birthday. And they chose to honor me by sending out the evite saying that this was a “Princess Party.” Can you feel the respect? Anyway, I wore the pink tie that my daughter just bought for me (She’s old enough to pick out stuff now, so that was fun) to this event purely out of spite. Chubb Rock isn’t the only guy in my family who can rock the pink to an event (I’m sorry, that story will never get old). Thursday was fun because two of the trains I was on broke down going to the bar. I took this as a sign that it was my luck again, so I ended up walking 2 miles to the bar. There wasn’t as much craziness this time, just me drinking Jack by the glass. I was looking forward to getting my bill so I could see the damage I did to my liver, but I apparently had a cool bartender who just charged me $60 for the entire night and didn’t list anything out (He probably remembers me from the last time I was there and ran up a $100 tab in 2 hours). I came into work this morning still buzzed. Oh, and I have a Christmas part tonight.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
The Chronicles of Mr. Twenty Percent
We’ll get to the new title of the in a second, but just letting you know this trip to Texas we’ll be doing quotes exclusively from Kanye West, since 808’s & Heartbreak was playing for most of the weekend (it is one of the few CDs I own that I don’t have to worry about lyrics in front of my daughter).
“Eighteen years, eighteen years. She got one of your kids she got you for eighteen years.”
Since giving myself nicknames is apparently the new cool thing to do, I gave myself a new one: Mr Twenty Percent. A few of you may know that Deshawn Stevenson gave himself the nickname Mr Fifty Percent last season in his epic battle of swag with Gilbert since he had a shooting percentage greater than 50% (And probably the number one reason they’re 4-18 this year is because your team is concerned with its swag. Also, I’d like to note that Gil was the one who made that term blow up and why King magazine has articles like 69 Ways to Increase Your Swag). I’m now going by Mr Twenty Percent because in the state of Texas, a father is obligated to contribute 20% of his after tax income to their child. And sometimes, I think that’s half of what anyone down there is concerned about. I love that I had to break out my income recently. Nothing like having to pay an extra $100 a month so someone can not work. Also, my BM’s mom seems to like me more now that I gave her a G to pay for medical expenses. So as long as I’m being an ATM, I’m in everyone’s good graces. Let’s not concern ourselves with me actually getting down to Texas and how that’s getting paid for (which ain’t cheap by the way). Let’s just make sure Barney is contributing the correct amount and then we’ll guilt him into giving up more.
“Some of em dyslexic, their favorite 50 Cent song is 12 Questions.”
Texas has an advertising strategy utilized by some of its businesses along the lines of “You’re in the middle of no where. You have very little options at this point. The only one you currently have is this establishment. Just reminding you of that.” When there’s only one restaurant for the next 30 miles, you really don’t have to have a catchy jingle. You should however, focus on putting correct grammar on your billboard. You might want to have your 30 foot billboard say, “You’re Here” instead of “Your Here”. Unless you’re trying to advertise that the Texas school system sucks. If so, may I suggest you get Vince Young to be your spokesman. I think he’s available now. (And yes, I know that I had incorrect grammar on the JP Losman post. The difference is, mine was in 12 font on a blog, not 96 font on the side of an interstate. I would have checked the episode a lot more thoroughly if I knew that was the case).
“I’ll have a buzz bigger than insects in Texas.”
It wouldn’t be a trip to Texas if I didn’t nearly die. This time, it was the result of missing hitting a deer by about 6 inches. I’m fairly certain my Chevy Cobalt would not be able to handle this (It had enough problems just dealing with 20 MPH winds. When gusts came, the car literally moved.). I had to swerve to avoid the deer, then swerve back to avoid running my car into a ditch (God forbid they have anything like a shoulder or a highway that’s more than one lane wide). I’m glad I avoided dying just the way I always wanted: on a backwood highway impaled by a deer antler. On the plus side, if I survived, I would have definitely loaded it into the back seat and waited for it to come alive. “Hello Enterprise Rental Car, yes, I had a great time. Oh, that? There’s no top on the car because I put a deer in the backseat and it destroyed everything. Sorry about the car, but That. Was. Awesome.”
And finally, I was confronted with the age old question, “Is it ok to beat the shit out of a 2 year old?” Again, the answer was no, but I was really considering it for awhile. I might get convicted of something, but I think a jury would be sympathetic when I told them I did it because she said, “Your not really her daddy”. Yup, that’s what one of my daughters friends said to me. But I didn’t beat this shit out of her (not this time at least). Oh well another fan-fucking-tastic trip to Texas.
“Eighteen years, eighteen years. She got one of your kids she got you for eighteen years.”
Since giving myself nicknames is apparently the new cool thing to do, I gave myself a new one: Mr Twenty Percent. A few of you may know that Deshawn Stevenson gave himself the nickname Mr Fifty Percent last season in his epic battle of swag with Gilbert since he had a shooting percentage greater than 50% (And probably the number one reason they’re 4-18 this year is because your team is concerned with its swag. Also, I’d like to note that Gil was the one who made that term blow up and why King magazine has articles like 69 Ways to Increase Your Swag). I’m now going by Mr Twenty Percent because in the state of Texas, a father is obligated to contribute 20% of his after tax income to their child. And sometimes, I think that’s half of what anyone down there is concerned about. I love that I had to break out my income recently. Nothing like having to pay an extra $100 a month so someone can not work. Also, my BM’s mom seems to like me more now that I gave her a G to pay for medical expenses. So as long as I’m being an ATM, I’m in everyone’s good graces. Let’s not concern ourselves with me actually getting down to Texas and how that’s getting paid for (which ain’t cheap by the way). Let’s just make sure Barney is contributing the correct amount and then we’ll guilt him into giving up more.
“Some of em dyslexic, their favorite 50 Cent song is 12 Questions.”
Texas has an advertising strategy utilized by some of its businesses along the lines of “You’re in the middle of no where. You have very little options at this point. The only one you currently have is this establishment. Just reminding you of that.” When there’s only one restaurant for the next 30 miles, you really don’t have to have a catchy jingle. You should however, focus on putting correct grammar on your billboard. You might want to have your 30 foot billboard say, “You’re Here” instead of “Your Here”. Unless you’re trying to advertise that the Texas school system sucks. If so, may I suggest you get Vince Young to be your spokesman. I think he’s available now. (And yes, I know that I had incorrect grammar on the JP Losman post. The difference is, mine was in 12 font on a blog, not 96 font on the side of an interstate. I would have checked the episode a lot more thoroughly if I knew that was the case).
“I’ll have a buzz bigger than insects in Texas.”
It wouldn’t be a trip to Texas if I didn’t nearly die. This time, it was the result of missing hitting a deer by about 6 inches. I’m fairly certain my Chevy Cobalt would not be able to handle this (It had enough problems just dealing with 20 MPH winds. When gusts came, the car literally moved.). I had to swerve to avoid the deer, then swerve back to avoid running my car into a ditch (God forbid they have anything like a shoulder or a highway that’s more than one lane wide). I’m glad I avoided dying just the way I always wanted: on a backwood highway impaled by a deer antler. On the plus side, if I survived, I would have definitely loaded it into the back seat and waited for it to come alive. “Hello Enterprise Rental Car, yes, I had a great time. Oh, that? There’s no top on the car because I put a deer in the backseat and it destroyed everything. Sorry about the car, but That. Was. Awesome.”
And finally, I was confronted with the age old question, “Is it ok to beat the shit out of a 2 year old?” Again, the answer was no, but I was really considering it for awhile. I might get convicted of something, but I think a jury would be sympathetic when I told them I did it because she said, “Your not really her daddy”. Yup, that’s what one of my daughters friends said to me. But I didn’t beat this shit out of her (not this time at least). Oh well another fan-fucking-tastic trip to Texas.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Reinforcing Stereotypes
If there’s one thing I hate in this world besides the state of Delaware, its Christmas shopping. It’s gotten even more fun since I’ve had in kid in that I now have to go to Toys R Us and all that stuff. Nothing makes me more pissed off than having to deal with parents trying to get stuff for their kids. That’s why I went at 9 am on Saturday morning as soon as they opened up and banged out everything I needed to get in an hour and fifteen minutes. That has to be a record. Even better than that, I was actually entertained while shopping. There was a Hispanic lady shopping for her daughter. She got her…(wait for it)…a vacuum and cleaner toy set. Starting them young, huh? I mean, we’re not even trying to avoid stereotypes there. The only way that would be better was if she got her son a beach set that had a water can and a rake. That’d be equivalent me buying my daughter a shot glass. Alright, maybe that’s just funny to me.
Some other things that may only be funny to me:
I’m getting my dinner last night and the guy in front of me in line has a button saying Obama ’08 in Hebrew. And of course he’s at the register counting out pennies to make exact change.
I’m on the train home and there’s someone next to me who apparently attended an engineering conference in Knoxville and had a tote bag from that conference. And guess what was part of the conference’s logo? That’s right, the Sunsphere. I did not know that thing was still up. I assumed the wig store it was housing was destroyed when Nelson threw a rock at it. Way to change my opinion about you, Tennessee. I now have another tourist destination when I make my trip to Lynchburg.
Since I’m making jokes about all kinds of generalities, I’d be remiss if I didn’t take this time to laugh at myself. I was in the supermarket the other day in the frozen food aisle when it hit me: I really like having Texas Toast in the freezer. I eat it at least once a week, usually more now, and I felt that I needed to pick some up just in case. When it gets to the point that you’re reinforcing stereotypes about yourself, you might want to reconsider making fun of others for doing so. On second though, nah. In the words of Brock when I told him about the Jewish guy, “You’ve reached the apex of funny”.
Some other things that may only be funny to me:
I’m getting my dinner last night and the guy in front of me in line has a button saying Obama ’08 in Hebrew. And of course he’s at the register counting out pennies to make exact change.
I’m on the train home and there’s someone next to me who apparently attended an engineering conference in Knoxville and had a tote bag from that conference. And guess what was part of the conference’s logo? That’s right, the Sunsphere. I did not know that thing was still up. I assumed the wig store it was housing was destroyed when Nelson threw a rock at it. Way to change my opinion about you, Tennessee. I now have another tourist destination when I make my trip to Lynchburg.
Since I’m making jokes about all kinds of generalities, I’d be remiss if I didn’t take this time to laugh at myself. I was in the supermarket the other day in the frozen food aisle when it hit me: I really like having Texas Toast in the freezer. I eat it at least once a week, usually more now, and I felt that I needed to pick some up just in case. When it gets to the point that you’re reinforcing stereotypes about yourself, you might want to reconsider making fun of others for doing so. On second though, nah. In the words of Brock when I told him about the Jewish guy, “You’ve reached the apex of funny”.
Barney's Guide to Management
As we continue our series on life lessons from The Barney Show, we’ll now delve into a topic I know a little something about, management. If you check back in April, I became a manager. Then I managed a group of 11 individuals and reported to a project manager who managed a team of 19. Now I pretty much was the PM in that I did everything necessary to keep that ship running, but I didn’t have the title. Well, we lost that contract (and I’m sure having a PM spending half his time in South Carolina golfing and not responding to anything had absolutely nothing to do with it. Nope, none whatsoever), so now I’m managing a project of 5 people, but I have the title. So less work, better title. Seems like a good deal to me. Now that you have the back story, let me pass on my lessons learned. I’m sure this will be in the Harvard Business Journal fairly soon, so make sure you let people know you were the first to know this. So without further ado, we now present “Managing the Barney Way”.
Lead by Example
Employees are more likely to perform a certain way if they see their manager doing it as well. You have to be dedicated to both your work and your team. My employees know they are going to get everything I can possible give for them and it shows in the respect they give me.
For example, I never order shots for my employees if I’m not getting one as well. Staff absences have gone down noticeably on my watch. I attribute that to my lack of sympathy for sick people. If I’m in here at 8 am after being at the bar until midnight and had 14 shots of Jack, your ass better be in here as well. The only exception I have for this is with my female employees and their “issues”. One girl started describing the health issues she was having that are best told to a gynecologist. I stopped her and told her that she can leave immediately and to take all the time off she feels is necessary.
Compartmentalize
We all have issues in our life, but as a manager, you need to block all of that out. You have to have the ability to focus completely on the task at hand. If you get good at this, you can eliminate pretty much any emotion in your life that doesn’t have to do with work. You’ll know your great at compartmentalizing when you do the following:Forget its your girlfriends birthday and don’t call her because you worked late to finish a proposal.(Forget actually doing something on her birthday. Doesn’t she know it’s your busy time of year?)
When someone comes to you and says, “Did you hear about Former Coworker A? Her son committed suicide,” your immediate response is, “God dammit. Don’t you see we have requisitions going over without any accounting lines? Why would you tell me this now? Can’t this wait?”
Sure, your social life will probably be described as “pathetic” by some people and you won’t have any meaningful relationships. But they don’t give bonuses based on your ability to spend a lovely day shopping at Bed, Bath & Beyond. You don’t get promoted on being a great snuggler. So stop being a little bitch and get those best practices documented.
Sexual Harassment
It’s important in today’s workforce to make sure you’re not accused of sexual harassment. You can get into a lot of trouble for that. I’ve gone out of my way to try and be accommodating to the fairer sex (as mentioned above in my tremendous empathy for female’s health.). It’s also important to not use your power to get you sex. The key is to make your employees think you’re getting some when you’re actually not. Let’s replay a conversation with one of the people I manage:
Employee B: So you’re sleeping with Female Employee C, right?Barney: No I’m not.
Employee B: Really? I thought you were. What about Female Employee D?
Barney: No, not her either. I’m not banging anyone on this team.
Employee B: Ok, Ok. I believe you, but I think everyone assumes that you are.
You see that? You get all of the undermining of your credibility with none of the enjoyment. So now you merely have rumors about what you do in your free time. That’s much better.
Team Building
Team building is a key management technique used to build morale and camaraderie. My main belief is that Team Happy Hours do wonders. Here everyone gets to loosen up their tie, blow of a little steam and get to know each other a little better. The key in my opinion is to get absolutely smashed. I mean as blindly drunk as you can before they stop those 2 for 1 specials. Then put it on the corporate card and everybody is happy. Except for finance. They’ll want to have you fired. But fuck them, you have a team to run.
How important do I think Happy Hours are? I just did a project plan and it already has two of them on there. In fact, they’re milestones on my plan. I have one setup for October 2, 2009. Is that almost 10 months away? Sure it is. But nothing brings a team together like the anticipation of getting absolutely wasted together. And it’s on the project plan, so it has to happen. If not, we’re going to be behind schedule, and no one likes that.
Follow these steps and you’ll be well on your way to being a project manager by 25. The Barney Show accepts no responsibility if this guidance leads you to having no liver by the time you’re 30. That’s just part of the Barney Plan.
Lead by Example
Employees are more likely to perform a certain way if they see their manager doing it as well. You have to be dedicated to both your work and your team. My employees know they are going to get everything I can possible give for them and it shows in the respect they give me.
For example, I never order shots for my employees if I’m not getting one as well. Staff absences have gone down noticeably on my watch. I attribute that to my lack of sympathy for sick people. If I’m in here at 8 am after being at the bar until midnight and had 14 shots of Jack, your ass better be in here as well. The only exception I have for this is with my female employees and their “issues”. One girl started describing the health issues she was having that are best told to a gynecologist. I stopped her and told her that she can leave immediately and to take all the time off she feels is necessary.
Compartmentalize
We all have issues in our life, but as a manager, you need to block all of that out. You have to have the ability to focus completely on the task at hand. If you get good at this, you can eliminate pretty much any emotion in your life that doesn’t have to do with work. You’ll know your great at compartmentalizing when you do the following:Forget its your girlfriends birthday and don’t call her because you worked late to finish a proposal.(Forget actually doing something on her birthday. Doesn’t she know it’s your busy time of year?)
When someone comes to you and says, “Did you hear about Former Coworker A? Her son committed suicide,” your immediate response is, “God dammit. Don’t you see we have requisitions going over without any accounting lines? Why would you tell me this now? Can’t this wait?”
Sure, your social life will probably be described as “pathetic” by some people and you won’t have any meaningful relationships. But they don’t give bonuses based on your ability to spend a lovely day shopping at Bed, Bath & Beyond. You don’t get promoted on being a great snuggler. So stop being a little bitch and get those best practices documented.
Sexual Harassment
It’s important in today’s workforce to make sure you’re not accused of sexual harassment. You can get into a lot of trouble for that. I’ve gone out of my way to try and be accommodating to the fairer sex (as mentioned above in my tremendous empathy for female’s health.). It’s also important to not use your power to get you sex. The key is to make your employees think you’re getting some when you’re actually not. Let’s replay a conversation with one of the people I manage:
Employee B: So you’re sleeping with Female Employee C, right?Barney: No I’m not.
Employee B: Really? I thought you were. What about Female Employee D?
Barney: No, not her either. I’m not banging anyone on this team.
Employee B: Ok, Ok. I believe you, but I think everyone assumes that you are.
You see that? You get all of the undermining of your credibility with none of the enjoyment. So now you merely have rumors about what you do in your free time. That’s much better.
Team Building
Team building is a key management technique used to build morale and camaraderie. My main belief is that Team Happy Hours do wonders. Here everyone gets to loosen up their tie, blow of a little steam and get to know each other a little better. The key in my opinion is to get absolutely smashed. I mean as blindly drunk as you can before they stop those 2 for 1 specials. Then put it on the corporate card and everybody is happy. Except for finance. They’ll want to have you fired. But fuck them, you have a team to run.
How important do I think Happy Hours are? I just did a project plan and it already has two of them on there. In fact, they’re milestones on my plan. I have one setup for October 2, 2009. Is that almost 10 months away? Sure it is. But nothing brings a team together like the anticipation of getting absolutely wasted together. And it’s on the project plan, so it has to happen. If not, we’re going to be behind schedule, and no one likes that.
Follow these steps and you’ll be well on your way to being a project manager by 25. The Barney Show accepts no responsibility if this guidance leads you to having no liver by the time you’re 30. That’s just part of the Barney Plan.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
I am...Pancake
Ok, we’ll get to that title in a bit. But let’s get to some of the highlights from my trip back to the West End for Thanksgiving. Another trip home, another intervention avoided. That’s pretty much my one goal for these things, to not have my family surround me and tell me they think I have a problem.
Glad I came home in the end of November and the best we can do is have lukewarm water for the shower. That really made shaving quite fun.
I think my parents are officially old. Not only do they not get around as well as they use to, but they’re starting to do things like collecting dimes in their car. Not change. Just dimes. For no reason. That’s completely normal.
Not that I’m one to talk about normal behavior. I drove up starting at 4 am on Thanksgiving morning, walked in the door and went on a 4-5 mile run. Then proceeded to start drinking…and I didn’t stop until Saturday night. But the run made me seem like I somehow had my shit together. I think that’s what kept the intervention from happening.
Thank you Delaware for once again reconfirming your spot as worst state in the nation. It took me two hours to drive the 15 miles through your shitty state.
So why am I now going by the name “Pancake”? Well, if Beyonce can start giving herself a nickname, why can’t I? Oh right, she has multiple grammys, movies, is married to Jay-Z. I’m just a simple IT consultant with a rambling blog. I guess I don’t really have a right to expect this to catch on. Anyway, here’s how it happened:
Barney: “You know what we need? Someone in our crew named Pancake.”
J-Man: (pause) “It’s not going to be me.”
Barney: (looks around, see’s no one else) “Fuck. I guess that’s me then.”
So just add another nickname to the list.
Glad I came home in the end of November and the best we can do is have lukewarm water for the shower. That really made shaving quite fun.
I think my parents are officially old. Not only do they not get around as well as they use to, but they’re starting to do things like collecting dimes in their car. Not change. Just dimes. For no reason. That’s completely normal.
Not that I’m one to talk about normal behavior. I drove up starting at 4 am on Thanksgiving morning, walked in the door and went on a 4-5 mile run. Then proceeded to start drinking…and I didn’t stop until Saturday night. But the run made me seem like I somehow had my shit together. I think that’s what kept the intervention from happening.
Thank you Delaware for once again reconfirming your spot as worst state in the nation. It took me two hours to drive the 15 miles through your shitty state.
So why am I now going by the name “Pancake”? Well, if Beyonce can start giving herself a nickname, why can’t I? Oh right, she has multiple grammys, movies, is married to Jay-Z. I’m just a simple IT consultant with a rambling blog. I guess I don’t really have a right to expect this to catch on. Anyway, here’s how it happened:
Barney: “You know what we need? Someone in our crew named Pancake.”
J-Man: (pause) “It’s not going to be me.”
Barney: (looks around, see’s no one else) “Fuck. I guess that’s me then.”
So just add another nickname to the list.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Who will save the game?
Well, if no one else is going to save the rap game, Ron Artest will take the responsibility. In this 4 minute ramble, he calls out pretty much everyone in an attempt to defend Greg Oden. My favorite term in there was "Hood Swag." I will start using this immediately. I also enjoy his parenting techniques (So in the past week, I've gotten lessons from Ron Ron and Sheed. I see this ending well.)
http://ballhype.com/video/video_ron_artest_addresses_stat_quo_s_comments_on_greg/
http://ballhype.com/video/video_ron_artest_addresses_stat_quo_s_comments_on_greg/
Monday, November 17, 2008
Yup, I'm Hurt Again
Over the past few weeks, I’ve slowly been climbing out of the alcohol drenched sleepwalk I’ve been doing for months (years possibly) and started to try and get myself back in shape. I’ve started lifting in the mornings and then running after work. I won’t be running any 5 minute miles anytime soon, but I am slowing reminding myself that at one point in my life I was an athlete.
And what I also forgot was that I have an incredible propensity for getting hurt. I didn’t set the school record for time spent in the trainer’s room (And in only 3 years none the less. Imagine if I had been cleared for my senior season?) for nothing. So while it came as a surprise to me, it should not be surprising to you, was that I sprained my ankle on Friday night. I was out for a run and had the brilliant idea of running on a street I’ve never been down. I should have realized this was a bad idea when I thought, “Hmm…there aren’t many street lights here.” But that was quickly disregarded when I heard dogs barking. I think my greatest fear during my track career was not the pain you go through during a race, not losing to Sy fucking osset, but getting attacked by a dog or bear when we used to go on trips to the middle of nowhere. Ask K-Dog, we were in upstate NY and I had no problem running 10 miles a day, banging out hundreds of pushups, or anything else they required. But run anywhere near a place that had a dog, or possibly a bear. Nope coach. You sir, can go fuck yourself. I’ll run quarter mile repeats right here if you don’t mind. The only reassuring thing I had was that I was in better shape than pretty much everyone else in my group, so I only had to outrun them.
Anyway, after that story went absolutely nowhere, I’m on this dark ass road, and what happens next? That’s right, some ass hat decided it would be a good idea to not fill in the pothole after he did some work on his driveway. So bam, there goes my ankle into it. It all came rushing back to me. The “Oh fuck”, followed by the “Ok, calm down, its not that bad, just walk it off.” Then comes the realization, “Yeah, that’s not going to heal overnight.” And finally, acceptance. This was all well and good, but since I normally did this on a basketball court, I had to accept that I was a mile and a half from my house and still needed to get home. So I hobbled home in which was 25 of the best minutes of my life. And by that time, my foot looked like that of a 500 pound person. But on the plus side, if there is one thing I know how to do in this world (besides working with a vicious hangover), it’s how to treat a sprained ankle, and took solace in the fact that at least this time, it was only 1 sprained ankle and not two. Because that was a bitch. So my experiment with being an athlete landed me where it always does, with a lot of ice on my body.
And what I also forgot was that I have an incredible propensity for getting hurt. I didn’t set the school record for time spent in the trainer’s room (And in only 3 years none the less. Imagine if I had been cleared for my senior season?) for nothing. So while it came as a surprise to me, it should not be surprising to you, was that I sprained my ankle on Friday night. I was out for a run and had the brilliant idea of running on a street I’ve never been down. I should have realized this was a bad idea when I thought, “Hmm…there aren’t many street lights here.” But that was quickly disregarded when I heard dogs barking. I think my greatest fear during my track career was not the pain you go through during a race, not losing to Sy fucking osset, but getting attacked by a dog or bear when we used to go on trips to the middle of nowhere. Ask K-Dog, we were in upstate NY and I had no problem running 10 miles a day, banging out hundreds of pushups, or anything else they required. But run anywhere near a place that had a dog, or possibly a bear. Nope coach. You sir, can go fuck yourself. I’ll run quarter mile repeats right here if you don’t mind. The only reassuring thing I had was that I was in better shape than pretty much everyone else in my group, so I only had to outrun them.
Anyway, after that story went absolutely nowhere, I’m on this dark ass road, and what happens next? That’s right, some ass hat decided it would be a good idea to not fill in the pothole after he did some work on his driveway. So bam, there goes my ankle into it. It all came rushing back to me. The “Oh fuck”, followed by the “Ok, calm down, its not that bad, just walk it off.” Then comes the realization, “Yeah, that’s not going to heal overnight.” And finally, acceptance. This was all well and good, but since I normally did this on a basketball court, I had to accept that I was a mile and a half from my house and still needed to get home. So I hobbled home in which was 25 of the best minutes of my life. And by that time, my foot looked like that of a 500 pound person. But on the plus side, if there is one thing I know how to do in this world (besides working with a vicious hangover), it’s how to treat a sprained ankle, and took solace in the fact that at least this time, it was only 1 sprained ankle and not two. Because that was a bitch. So my experiment with being an athlete landed me where it always does, with a lot of ice on my body.
More Gambling
http://www.lvrj.com/sports/34571674.html
I vote that this immediately gets inducted into the Great Moments in Gambling History pantheon. I don't think any one will object.
I vote that this immediately gets inducted into the Great Moments in Gambling History pantheon. I don't think any one will object.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
God Bless Sheed
http://www.yardbarker.com/nba/articles/My_new_tattoo/376079
Since we are halfway through November, I'd like to say Rasheed Wallace is one of the things I'm thankful for. Funny, this is what I was thinking about doing to honor my daughter. You stole my idea Sheed.
Since we are halfway through November, I'd like to say Rasheed Wallace is one of the things I'm thankful for. Funny, this is what I was thinking about doing to honor my daughter. You stole my idea Sheed.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Random NFL/NBA Thoughts
Since I haven’t said anything about football or an NBA preview I’ll just combine the two into one episode with just random observations.
My favorite part about this NBA season so far has been the whole “The Pistons traded for Iverson, and will have cap room to go after Lebron.” Listen, I know that seems like a good idea, but let me put it this way: I have a better chance of taking a job in Utah than Lebron has of going to Detroit. That might be the only place that is worse than Cleveland (Ok, Milwaukee would be worse). Unless Lebron has dreams of using his salary to bail out GM and Ford and his dreams of being a Global Icon are to be the modern day Henry Ford, he will not be going to Detroit. So let’s just stop talking about how this is anything more than Detroit trying to make a change because their team has gotten stale and needed to be shaken up.
(Seriously, just read this article. Dude is learning Mandarin so he can sell in China. You’re telling me he can do that in Detroit? By the way, this was one of the best article’s I’ve read in awhile.
http://www.esquire.com/features/75-most-influential/lebron-james-1008)
My favorite recent development has been the whole “Dallas might go with Brooks Bollinger as their QB” thing. Because I’ve been on the Brooks Bus, back in 2006, and it’s not fun. In fact, I’d rather have Otto driving me to school than Brooks.
Adrian Peterson is a bad, bad man. In case you didn’t know.
It’s always fun to turn your phone off on Sunday night and wake up to a text message simply saying, “Fuck Herm.” It’s reassuring that others are getting the full Herm Edwards Experience. Just remember, “You play to win the game.”
My favorite part about this NBA season so far has been the whole “The Pistons traded for Iverson, and will have cap room to go after Lebron.” Listen, I know that seems like a good idea, but let me put it this way: I have a better chance of taking a job in Utah than Lebron has of going to Detroit. That might be the only place that is worse than Cleveland (Ok, Milwaukee would be worse). Unless Lebron has dreams of using his salary to bail out GM and Ford and his dreams of being a Global Icon are to be the modern day Henry Ford, he will not be going to Detroit. So let’s just stop talking about how this is anything more than Detroit trying to make a change because their team has gotten stale and needed to be shaken up.
(Seriously, just read this article. Dude is learning Mandarin so he can sell in China. You’re telling me he can do that in Detroit? By the way, this was one of the best article’s I’ve read in awhile.
http://www.esquire.com/features/75-most-influential/lebron-james-1008)
My favorite recent development has been the whole “Dallas might go with Brooks Bollinger as their QB” thing. Because I’ve been on the Brooks Bus, back in 2006, and it’s not fun. In fact, I’d rather have Otto driving me to school than Brooks.
Adrian Peterson is a bad, bad man. In case you didn’t know.
It’s always fun to turn your phone off on Sunday night and wake up to a text message simply saying, “Fuck Herm.” It’s reassuring that others are getting the full Herm Edwards Experience. Just remember, “You play to win the game.”
Gambling Econ 101
So I’m going to go into a conversation that only me and my dad could have. If you haven’t been following local Maryland politics (I can’t think of a reason you aren’t), but slots were legalized this election day. While this doesn’t sound that crazy, on my way home from work on Friday there were talking about the long term ramifications of it on sports radio. It could have a serious impact on Delaware’s slot machine business. They mentioned that a Wall Street analyst downgraded the stock of one of the Delaware tracks because of the competition with Maryland. The analyst also casually mentioned that the only way they could see Delaware overcoming this was…(wait for it)…legalized sports gambling. Luckily I was in bumper to bumper traffic and only going 15 MPH because I might have crashed the car. They also said the Delaware was exempt from the federal ban because it would be grandfathered in because it had a law that predated the federal ban. After I composed myself, I called my dad because this was such important news it couldn’t wait (I’m also the same person who received a call the second Qyntel Woods got activated, so maybe I’m not the best gauge for what constitutes something that needs to be discussed immediately). Here was our discussion:
Mom: Hi Barney, how are you?
Barney: Eh, same as usual. Is dad home?
Mom: (sighs) Yeah, let me get him.
Barney: So I just heard something interesting. Delaware may legalize sports gambling.
Dad: Well, I don’t think it can work. Sports books just can’t compete with the bookies. You figure you have to pay employees, pay taxes, and all of that. A bookie just doesn’t have any overhead.
Barney: That’s true. But first off, if Delaware has it legalized, you know Atlantic City is at least going to try to get it legalized. And if that happens then you can make money because you have the casino working for you. And casinos don’t lose money.
Dad: Yes, I’ll agree that Atlantic City with a sports book would work.
Barney: But for Delaware, I think it could also work. Even if you break even on the betting, you can still make a shit load of money by selling stuff there. Get the people in and then sell them $5 hot dogs while they watch the Sunday football games.
Dad: The big thing that Vegas has is the prop bets. After they figure out the percentages, they probably pad them by as much as 30%.
Barney and Dad, the definite authority on the business prospects of sports gambling in my least favorite state in the union (Yes, it is Delaware. Just for its 20 mile stretch of I-95 that always has traffic, and they charge a $5 toll for the right to sit in traffic. And since they have nothing positive to offset this, Delaware, you get the crown. (“The Simpsons are going to Delaware. I want to go to a screen door factory.”)
Mom: Hi Barney, how are you?
Barney: Eh, same as usual. Is dad home?
Mom: (sighs) Yeah, let me get him.
Barney: So I just heard something interesting. Delaware may legalize sports gambling.
Dad: Well, I don’t think it can work. Sports books just can’t compete with the bookies. You figure you have to pay employees, pay taxes, and all of that. A bookie just doesn’t have any overhead.
Barney: That’s true. But first off, if Delaware has it legalized, you know Atlantic City is at least going to try to get it legalized. And if that happens then you can make money because you have the casino working for you. And casinos don’t lose money.
Dad: Yes, I’ll agree that Atlantic City with a sports book would work.
Barney: But for Delaware, I think it could also work. Even if you break even on the betting, you can still make a shit load of money by selling stuff there. Get the people in and then sell them $5 hot dogs while they watch the Sunday football games.
Dad: The big thing that Vegas has is the prop bets. After they figure out the percentages, they probably pad them by as much as 30%.
Barney and Dad, the definite authority on the business prospects of sports gambling in my least favorite state in the union (Yes, it is Delaware. Just for its 20 mile stretch of I-95 that always has traffic, and they charge a $5 toll for the right to sit in traffic. And since they have nothing positive to offset this, Delaware, you get the crown. (“The Simpsons are going to Delaware. I want to go to a screen door factory.”)
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
He's on Fire!!!
http://sports.espn.go.com/espnmag/story?id=3668922
The fact that Shaq had an entire arcade game shipped for him is hilarious. Now that is fiscal responsibility. This article brings me back. Expect J-Man to make a Brad Lohaus comment.
The fact that Shaq had an entire arcade game shipped for him is hilarious. Now that is fiscal responsibility. This article brings me back. Expect J-Man to make a Brad Lohaus comment.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Get Going Hollywood
http://www.theonion.com/content/opinion/when_life_gets_you_down
This needs to get greenlite as soon as possible. I was cracking up at this. For the record, I once got completely blasted and watch Mighty Ducks 2. On a Saturday. At 9:30 in the morning. Can’t wait til I have to tell that story at AA.
This needs to get greenlite as soon as possible. I was cracking up at this. For the record, I once got completely blasted and watch Mighty Ducks 2. On a Saturday. At 9:30 in the morning. Can’t wait til I have to tell that story at AA.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
I Need a Halloween Costume
So I need an idea for a Halloween costume. I’m just throwing ideas out off the top of my head. Obviously, the best Halloween costume you can ever do is Rick James. I don’t even think this is debatable (you get to say “The milk’s gone bad.” That alone would make it worthwhile). But I don’t think I can pull that off. If you have anything better and easy (hint: I highly doubt I will be making shit. That’s just not how I roll.), feel free to mention it. Somehow I have a feeling I’m going to go as something that like 1 person gets. Oh well. I’ve gone a Ron Artest before the Palace brawl. I know that feeling.
Michael Vick - I already have his VA Tech jersey, so it would be a really cheap one. Just buy a head band and write "Bad Newz Kennels" on the front and a dog chain and I'm set to go. But is this too last year? Also, will I have PETA lovers on my ass all night? I feel I have to do this at least once to justify keeping a Vick jersey in my closet.
Jack Daniels - I would pretty much just need to buy a beard and a top hat. Another easy one. But J Man was Johnnie Walker last year, so I might be stealing his bit.
Pacman Jones - Can you imagine how much fun this would be? Just bring a bunch of monopoly money and throw it around. Also, I would work on making a Pacman chain as well. The downside is I'd have to pay $80 for a jersey and I might actually die if I went as him.
Duffman - Another great idea, but if there's anything that defines me for Halloween, its laziness. I will not be making my own. This is a long shot.
Matt Leinhert - Pretty much the same issues I have with Pacman, but I wear a headset and carry around a clipboard. On the plus side, I probably could get college girls to do beer bongs.
Silky Johnston/Buck Wild – Another one that will take some effort on my part (unfortunately, I don’t own a royal blue suit), but might be worth it. I would love to tell someone her breasts look “like Afghanistan: bombed out and depleted.” Plus I don’t really think I would have to act much to pull this off. This is pretty much the standard operating procedure for drunk Barney here. This would just be more classy.
If I think of any more, I’ll put them up. Let me know what you think. Because if there’s one group of people who I can count on to help me in my time of need, it’s readers of a blog that’s all about drinking stories and I’ll conceived sports/rap references in poor sentence structure. I expect nothing but the best.
Michael Vick - I already have his VA Tech jersey, so it would be a really cheap one. Just buy a head band and write "Bad Newz Kennels" on the front and a dog chain and I'm set to go. But is this too last year? Also, will I have PETA lovers on my ass all night? I feel I have to do this at least once to justify keeping a Vick jersey in my closet.
Jack Daniels - I would pretty much just need to buy a beard and a top hat. Another easy one. But J Man was Johnnie Walker last year, so I might be stealing his bit.
Pacman Jones - Can you imagine how much fun this would be? Just bring a bunch of monopoly money and throw it around. Also, I would work on making a Pacman chain as well. The downside is I'd have to pay $80 for a jersey and I might actually die if I went as him.
Duffman - Another great idea, but if there's anything that defines me for Halloween, its laziness. I will not be making my own. This is a long shot.
Matt Leinhert - Pretty much the same issues I have with Pacman, but I wear a headset and carry around a clipboard. On the plus side, I probably could get college girls to do beer bongs.
Silky Johnston/Buck Wild – Another one that will take some effort on my part (unfortunately, I don’t own a royal blue suit), but might be worth it. I would love to tell someone her breasts look “like Afghanistan: bombed out and depleted.” Plus I don’t really think I would have to act much to pull this off. This is pretty much the standard operating procedure for drunk Barney here. This would just be more classy.
If I think of any more, I’ll put them up. Let me know what you think. Because if there’s one group of people who I can count on to help me in my time of need, it’s readers of a blog that’s all about drinking stories and I’ll conceived sports/rap references in poor sentence structure. I expect nothing but the best.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Barney's Rules to Life
We’re going to start a new segment on the Barney Show (read, will do two of these and abruptly stop) called Barney’s Rules to Life. Now, you’re probably asking yourself why would I want advice from someone who in uncomfortable in any social situation that does not involve alcohol, can’t maintain any semblance of a relationship and works way to much for the amount of money he’s being paid? That is a very valid point. The reason is that I will not be giving advice on these subjects. What I will be talking about is the little things that I think have gotten me to this point.
Rule: In any restaurant of lesser quality than Chili’s/Applebees/etc. always order the simplest item on the menu.
I guess when I was in 10th grade or so, J-Man asked me, “How come every time we go out to dinner, you always order a cheeseburger and fries?” To this point in my life, I had never even realized I did this, it was a subconscious decision. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve developed a philosophy around this. The basic gist of it is that if you’re eating at a dinner, you’re not working with the brightest people. Contrary to what you may think, short order cooks are not in the kitchen debating the installation of the super particle accelerator and the effects it could have on the world of physics. With this in mind, I try to keep all my orders as simple as possible. Hence the reason why I always order a cheeseburger and french fries.
This came up this weekend when I was in Texas. We had breakfast at a dinner. Knowing that not only was this a dinner, but the people working there were educated in the same school system that allowed Vince Young to graduate, I ordered accordingly: scrambled eggs with bacon and white toast. Others I was eating with decided to get fancy. One ordered a Western omelet with tomatoes instead of onions and another ordered their eggs cooked to a specific amount of runniness. Of course these two orders got fucked up. Not only that, their breakfast was delayed because I imagine the cooks couldn’t understand what the hell they wanted.
This applies to a lesser extent when going to a bar. I never order mixed drinks (with the exception of Red Bull and vodka to get me going through an extended bender). It’s always straight beer or straight liquor. Oh, your (insert randomly named drink here) isn’t made just right? Maybe you shouldn’t have ordered it from a bartender who has 17 other people waiting to order. Keep it simple and you’ll get what you want. (Note that this was a round about way to justify drinking straight Jack on the rocks for hours on end). It also applies at coffee shops. Wonder why I drink black coffee? Because ordering something else one of two things happen. Either it’s made wrong or it takes forever to get made.
This doesn’t apply when you go out to eat at higher end places because you can assume that they kind of have their shit together. But don’t go too far from what they do best (i.e. don’t order seafood at a steak restaurant)
Tune in next week when I explain how you can lose 10 pounds the Barney way
Rule: In any restaurant of lesser quality than Chili’s/Applebees/etc. always order the simplest item on the menu.
I guess when I was in 10th grade or so, J-Man asked me, “How come every time we go out to dinner, you always order a cheeseburger and fries?” To this point in my life, I had never even realized I did this, it was a subconscious decision. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve developed a philosophy around this. The basic gist of it is that if you’re eating at a dinner, you’re not working with the brightest people. Contrary to what you may think, short order cooks are not in the kitchen debating the installation of the super particle accelerator and the effects it could have on the world of physics. With this in mind, I try to keep all my orders as simple as possible. Hence the reason why I always order a cheeseburger and french fries.
This came up this weekend when I was in Texas. We had breakfast at a dinner. Knowing that not only was this a dinner, but the people working there were educated in the same school system that allowed Vince Young to graduate, I ordered accordingly: scrambled eggs with bacon and white toast. Others I was eating with decided to get fancy. One ordered a Western omelet with tomatoes instead of onions and another ordered their eggs cooked to a specific amount of runniness. Of course these two orders got fucked up. Not only that, their breakfast was delayed because I imagine the cooks couldn’t understand what the hell they wanted.
This applies to a lesser extent when going to a bar. I never order mixed drinks (with the exception of Red Bull and vodka to get me going through an extended bender). It’s always straight beer or straight liquor. Oh, your (insert randomly named drink here) isn’t made just right? Maybe you shouldn’t have ordered it from a bartender who has 17 other people waiting to order. Keep it simple and you’ll get what you want. (Note that this was a round about way to justify drinking straight Jack on the rocks for hours on end). It also applies at coffee shops. Wonder why I drink black coffee? Because ordering something else one of two things happen. Either it’s made wrong or it takes forever to get made.
This doesn’t apply when you go out to eat at higher end places because you can assume that they kind of have their shit together. But don’t go too far from what they do best (i.e. don’t order seafood at a steak restaurant)
Tune in next week when I explain how you can lose 10 pounds the Barney way
Monday, October 13, 2008
What the Duece?
http://www.hofstra.edu/debate/
Seriously? Hofstra? They couldn’t find anywhere better than fucking Hofstra. The final Presidential Debate will be held on glorious Hempstead Turnpike? I’m flabbergasted (Big Word. That’s why I didn’t go to Hofstra). The only way this will be remotely acceptable is if Wayne Chrebet is the moderator. In fact, I’m demanding it.
Seriously? Hofstra? They couldn’t find anywhere better than fucking Hofstra. The final Presidential Debate will be held on glorious Hempstead Turnpike? I’m flabbergasted (Big Word. That’s why I didn’t go to Hofstra). The only way this will be remotely acceptable is if Wayne Chrebet is the moderator. In fact, I’m demanding it.
Texas Toast
You deserve better. You put up with a half ass Texas Toast in August (though I might have redeemed myself with What’s the Deal with Cancer? Episode), but I promise this will be a much improved Texas Toast, with 87% more crazy Texas stuff and 113% more awkward parenting moments from yours truly. And with no bitching about relationships. This one had to justify Brock sending me a picture text message of actual Texas Toast. So we’re cutting the quotes as we normal and just getting straight to the notes from deep in the heart of Texas.
Actually, we’re start with my layover in Atlanta on Friday. I joked last time I was there that I was halfway expecting a strip club within the Atlanta airport. They don’t have that (yet), but Atlanta is different from any other airport I’ve been to yet (and I’ve been to a bunch). I was sitting around waiting for my flight to Dallas when the person sitting next to me said the following, “Tell (forget name) to keep his head up. He’ll finish his bid in a minute.” I then looked up and saw I was approving time cards from my employees. I realized that this might be the least gangsta moment of my life and that my rap career will not happen. I could see that being played out on that Summer Jam screen. There’s no coming back from that. Also fun in the Atlanta airport: Seeing someone walking to the plane with food in his hand and just knowing that it’s Popeye’s Chicken in his hand. Let’s just say that Atlanta’s airport was pretty much reinforcing stereotypes. I also think I saw a member of the Grand Hustle entourage. There was also a Cowboys fan on my flight to Dallas with a laptop. I was surprised that Cowboy fans even knew how to read, never mind use a computer. For you non-Cowboy fans, read on if you dare.
Speaking of reinforcing stereotypes, let’s talk about the Disney Channel’s programming. They have a show called “Handy Manny” in which a Hispanic man has a magic tool box that allows him to fix a multitude of problems. I mean, it’s not as offensive as having their token Spanish show be hosted by a gardener, but it’s pretty close. They also had a commercial asking kids to go outside and play, and the first two kids they showed were two black kids playing basketball. Way to go Disney Channel.
On Saturday, I took my daughter to Chuck E. Cheese. Little did I know that it would have the most security I’ve ever seen. That’s right, Chuck E. Cheese. First off, there was a rope to get in. Then they stamp your hand that can only be viewed under black light. And they check your stamp on the way out, and check you off the list. I’ve gone onto a NASA facility and there was less security than that. I guess they don’t want to lose any kids. Also worth noting was that I had the bright idea to change $10 into Chuck E. Cheese tokens figuring she would enjoying playing the games. Unfortunately, she did not. After two games, she wanted to leave. A solid investment by me I must say. Though considering how the stock market has been, it might be (Oh no, a financial joke. He went there.) So if anyone wants $9.50 in Chuck E. Cheese tokens, holla at your boy.
My daughter apparently likes the TI song, “My Life”. So if she start referring to her friends as “patnas”, you’ll know why. Unfortunately, she wasn’t a big fan of “Swagger Like Us”. I would love to see the other 2 year old faces when she starts talking about her Swag.
On Sunday, we went to the zoo. Because this is Texas, they have to make a few things clear. Like having multiple sings indicating that firearms were prohibited. And I think this was completely warranted. Because I can see someone trying to take out a giraffe to put on their double wide wall. Also, in a feat of urban planning, the zoo was next to a middle school. If the animals escape, I see no issues whatsoever.
After seeing the firearm sign, we got on line to get our tickets into the zoo. In front of us was a guy with “White” tatted on one forearm and “Power” on the other. He also had “100% White” on his neck. Thankfully, he did not speak to me. Because I think the only thing I would have been able to say was, “American History X was a good movie.” The only redeeming thing about this was that Mr. Racist was wearing $15 shoes from Wal Mart that were very beat up. I was not surprised at all by this. Way to reinforce more stereotypes.
I was impressed at the mall we went to in Dallas. They had a whole store for just giant belt buckles. They also had three stores for sports paraphernalia. One was stores was strictly devoted to Dallas Cowboy stuff and the other two were filled with Texas stuff, mostly Vince Young. So if Vince decides to take his pacifier and retire from the NFL, he’ll be just fine in Texas. He’s a demi-god down here. I once heard a sermon on a Christian radio station where they compared Vince Young’s touchdown run against USC to going to Heaven. In that Vince could not accomplish great things until he studied his good book (the playbook), and one won’t meet God until they review their good book (the Bible). I was tempted to call in and tell the pastor that was a broken play and had nothing to do with reading a playbook. And also asking him how Pete Carroll giving the ball the Lendale White on 4th & 1 factored into His plan. Anyway, the point I’m trying to make (in true Barney fashion, it took an extra 75 words to get there), is that it’s really no surprise that Vince reacted the way he did considering how he’s been worshipped down here. The Barney Show, the only place you can get updates on how stereotypes are being played out in contemporary America as well as half balked psychological analysis of NFL players.
I started writing this episode on the plane back home. Since I started this, the person next to me has not been in her seat. I’m almost afraid to ask. Hopefully she returns back to her seat in a different outfit a la Tommy Boy.
Time for a quick side story. Last Friday I went out to the bar to enjoy Saturday being the first day in 19 days I didn’t have to go to work. What did I do? Consumed 14 Jacks, 2 Johnnie Walkers and 2 shots. In 4 hours. The front runner for the quote of the year came from the waitress who said, “I would have cut him off awhile ago, but he was so calm.” That might be my epitaph. So I left the bar with an approximately 0.28 BAC and went to another one. Ok, back to the Toast.
In order to avoid getting a PT Cruiser from the rent a car place again, I made the decision to upgrade to a standard size car even though there was no reason to do so. I thus got a Chevy Impala. I said the phrase, “Cruisin’ in my ’64 Impala” no less than 15 times over the course of the weekend.
In a great example of how I have not been prepared to be a parent in today’s age, I was totally confused as to how to react when my daughter was wearing a pearl necklace. Because the 16 year old in me wanted to laugh. I won’t make any more jokes about that, but two weeks ago, one of the people working for me was investigated by the IT department for googling “black and white pearl necklace” actually looking for jewelry. I was really hoping they came to talk to me about it because I would have lost my shit. Though it did result in me having a discussion with my employee that went, “What the hell did you think would come up when you searched for ‘black and white pearl necklace’?” I’m fairly certain Warren Buffett doesn’t have to deal with these issues.
You know what’s also fun? When I see a good looking girl when I have my daughter with me. We went to lunch on Sunday and the waitress was pretty hot. It has to be funny as I try to make a conscious effort to show my fingers and that there is no ring on it. When she walked by I made sure I was looking at my daughter to show I’m not ignoring her. I have no idea why I actually care. It’s not like I’m going to say, “Hey, she needs a nap. What do you say we go in the back of the kitchen.” Or even better, “How bout you come back to her grandparents house, where I’m staying this weekend.” So this predictably is another Barney Show introspective that goes nowhere. Anyway, it didn’t do any good because I gave a $6.50 tip on a $13.50 bill. You know, in case she has never got it on with a little brother in the room.
Update in case you were wondering: The lady who sat next to me and suspiciously left, she got a seat in the back. Apparently she didn’t want to sit next to me. She could have been a little less obvious by jumping up immediately after the seat belt sign went off.
Finally, I spent Sunday afternoon watching the Cowboy game with a bunch of Cowboy fans. I know, this sounds like the ideal Sunday afternoon to everyone, but it wasn’t as cushy as you’d think. They were actually (gasp!) ignorant of actual football. They didn’t know that Pacman was in a fight this week (in their defense, I don’t think anyone follows Pacman more than me). I had to give them clarification to rules (They wanted a roughing the kicker call on the punt block in overtime.) So not only are they front runner, they don’t know what they’re talking about.
Actually, we’re start with my layover in Atlanta on Friday. I joked last time I was there that I was halfway expecting a strip club within the Atlanta airport. They don’t have that (yet), but Atlanta is different from any other airport I’ve been to yet (and I’ve been to a bunch). I was sitting around waiting for my flight to Dallas when the person sitting next to me said the following, “Tell (forget name) to keep his head up. He’ll finish his bid in a minute.” I then looked up and saw I was approving time cards from my employees. I realized that this might be the least gangsta moment of my life and that my rap career will not happen. I could see that being played out on that Summer Jam screen. There’s no coming back from that. Also fun in the Atlanta airport: Seeing someone walking to the plane with food in his hand and just knowing that it’s Popeye’s Chicken in his hand. Let’s just say that Atlanta’s airport was pretty much reinforcing stereotypes. I also think I saw a member of the Grand Hustle entourage. There was also a Cowboys fan on my flight to Dallas with a laptop. I was surprised that Cowboy fans even knew how to read, never mind use a computer. For you non-Cowboy fans, read on if you dare.
Speaking of reinforcing stereotypes, let’s talk about the Disney Channel’s programming. They have a show called “Handy Manny” in which a Hispanic man has a magic tool box that allows him to fix a multitude of problems. I mean, it’s not as offensive as having their token Spanish show be hosted by a gardener, but it’s pretty close. They also had a commercial asking kids to go outside and play, and the first two kids they showed were two black kids playing basketball. Way to go Disney Channel.
On Saturday, I took my daughter to Chuck E. Cheese. Little did I know that it would have the most security I’ve ever seen. That’s right, Chuck E. Cheese. First off, there was a rope to get in. Then they stamp your hand that can only be viewed under black light. And they check your stamp on the way out, and check you off the list. I’ve gone onto a NASA facility and there was less security than that. I guess they don’t want to lose any kids. Also worth noting was that I had the bright idea to change $10 into Chuck E. Cheese tokens figuring she would enjoying playing the games. Unfortunately, she did not. After two games, she wanted to leave. A solid investment by me I must say. Though considering how the stock market has been, it might be (Oh no, a financial joke. He went there.) So if anyone wants $9.50 in Chuck E. Cheese tokens, holla at your boy.
My daughter apparently likes the TI song, “My Life”. So if she start referring to her friends as “patnas”, you’ll know why. Unfortunately, she wasn’t a big fan of “Swagger Like Us”. I would love to see the other 2 year old faces when she starts talking about her Swag.
On Sunday, we went to the zoo. Because this is Texas, they have to make a few things clear. Like having multiple sings indicating that firearms were prohibited. And I think this was completely warranted. Because I can see someone trying to take out a giraffe to put on their double wide wall. Also, in a feat of urban planning, the zoo was next to a middle school. If the animals escape, I see no issues whatsoever.
After seeing the firearm sign, we got on line to get our tickets into the zoo. In front of us was a guy with “White” tatted on one forearm and “Power” on the other. He also had “100% White” on his neck. Thankfully, he did not speak to me. Because I think the only thing I would have been able to say was, “American History X was a good movie.” The only redeeming thing about this was that Mr. Racist was wearing $15 shoes from Wal Mart that were very beat up. I was not surprised at all by this. Way to reinforce more stereotypes.
I was impressed at the mall we went to in Dallas. They had a whole store for just giant belt buckles. They also had three stores for sports paraphernalia. One was stores was strictly devoted to Dallas Cowboy stuff and the other two were filled with Texas stuff, mostly Vince Young. So if Vince decides to take his pacifier and retire from the NFL, he’ll be just fine in Texas. He’s a demi-god down here. I once heard a sermon on a Christian radio station where they compared Vince Young’s touchdown run against USC to going to Heaven. In that Vince could not accomplish great things until he studied his good book (the playbook), and one won’t meet God until they review their good book (the Bible). I was tempted to call in and tell the pastor that was a broken play and had nothing to do with reading a playbook. And also asking him how Pete Carroll giving the ball the Lendale White on 4th & 1 factored into His plan. Anyway, the point I’m trying to make (in true Barney fashion, it took an extra 75 words to get there), is that it’s really no surprise that Vince reacted the way he did considering how he’s been worshipped down here. The Barney Show, the only place you can get updates on how stereotypes are being played out in contemporary America as well as half balked psychological analysis of NFL players.
I started writing this episode on the plane back home. Since I started this, the person next to me has not been in her seat. I’m almost afraid to ask. Hopefully she returns back to her seat in a different outfit a la Tommy Boy.
Time for a quick side story. Last Friday I went out to the bar to enjoy Saturday being the first day in 19 days I didn’t have to go to work. What did I do? Consumed 14 Jacks, 2 Johnnie Walkers and 2 shots. In 4 hours. The front runner for the quote of the year came from the waitress who said, “I would have cut him off awhile ago, but he was so calm.” That might be my epitaph. So I left the bar with an approximately 0.28 BAC and went to another one. Ok, back to the Toast.
In order to avoid getting a PT Cruiser from the rent a car place again, I made the decision to upgrade to a standard size car even though there was no reason to do so. I thus got a Chevy Impala. I said the phrase, “Cruisin’ in my ’64 Impala” no less than 15 times over the course of the weekend.
In a great example of how I have not been prepared to be a parent in today’s age, I was totally confused as to how to react when my daughter was wearing a pearl necklace. Because the 16 year old in me wanted to laugh. I won’t make any more jokes about that, but two weeks ago, one of the people working for me was investigated by the IT department for googling “black and white pearl necklace” actually looking for jewelry. I was really hoping they came to talk to me about it because I would have lost my shit. Though it did result in me having a discussion with my employee that went, “What the hell did you think would come up when you searched for ‘black and white pearl necklace’?” I’m fairly certain Warren Buffett doesn’t have to deal with these issues.
You know what’s also fun? When I see a good looking girl when I have my daughter with me. We went to lunch on Sunday and the waitress was pretty hot. It has to be funny as I try to make a conscious effort to show my fingers and that there is no ring on it. When she walked by I made sure I was looking at my daughter to show I’m not ignoring her. I have no idea why I actually care. It’s not like I’m going to say, “Hey, she needs a nap. What do you say we go in the back of the kitchen.” Or even better, “How bout you come back to her grandparents house, where I’m staying this weekend.” So this predictably is another Barney Show introspective that goes nowhere. Anyway, it didn’t do any good because I gave a $6.50 tip on a $13.50 bill. You know, in case she has never got it on with a little brother in the room.
Update in case you were wondering: The lady who sat next to me and suspiciously left, she got a seat in the back. Apparently she didn’t want to sit next to me. She could have been a little less obvious by jumping up immediately after the seat belt sign went off.
Finally, I spent Sunday afternoon watching the Cowboy game with a bunch of Cowboy fans. I know, this sounds like the ideal Sunday afternoon to everyone, but it wasn’t as cushy as you’d think. They were actually (gasp!) ignorant of actual football. They didn’t know that Pacman was in a fight this week (in their defense, I don’t think anyone follows Pacman more than me). I had to give them clarification to rules (They wanted a roughing the kicker call on the punt block in overtime.) So not only are they front runner, they don’t know what they’re talking about.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
You Stay Classy, Barney
I know what you need (You mean besides regular postings to this? These sporadic episodes just aren’t getting it done), it’s a crazy Barney drinking story. Friday night, LA and I went out for “a few drinks” at happy hour. As it usually occurs with me, “a few drinks” turns into a full night. We started out on the patio, and gradually the rest of the people there ended up leaving (probably because it was raining). Not that we noticed it because we were pretty trashed. Somewhere around midnight, a wedding party stopped by the bar. And being that the patio was the only place that could sit 15 people together, they joined us. We started drinking with them. After an hour or so, they were heading back to their hotel, a short walk from the bar, and for whatever reason, invited us. Not being ones to turn down free alcohol, we proceeded to the said hotel.
Now keep in mind, we know absolutely no one in this group. There wasn’t even a highly entertaining person in this group. We got invited and didn’t ask questions. The first thing that occurred when we got to the hotel, was the groom wanted to make a speech. He was unable to find the bottle of champagne he had saved for the occasion. Me, being the gentleman that I am, agreed to help him look for it. It wasn’t in the first fridge, but I was able to find a second fridge that had the bottle in it. Unfortunately, I took the refrigerator out of the wall in order to do so. So that Marriot might need to get another refrigerator because I do not have the basic manually dexterity to do the complex job of opening a refrigerator door.
Undeterred by this, the groom made his speech. He then passed the champagne bottle around to his friends who said what they had to say, and then passed it on to the next one. It somehow was given to me (don’t ask me why this group had allowed me to stay up until this point), I then proceeded to give my true feelings for this moment. “I don’t know any of you, but you seem like good people, so congratulations. And thanks for the alcohol.” (Commence taking ginormous slug of champagne). You stay classy, Barney.
I ended up crashing around 4 in the morning. This wouldn’t be bad if I didn’t have to be up at 8 to go to work. Not just the normal, “Barney’s the only one working on a weekend” stuff, but the two most important clients would be there this weekend. I roll out of bed at 8:15, head right to the bathroom and puke some water up. Not only that, I somehow get a bloody nose, so I’m dripping blood as well (I swear I’m not doing coke). I take a quick shower. Even classier, I never made it home the night before, so I’ll have to wear the same clothes I wore the day before. Me being the bright one that I am, I decide that I might be able to fool people if I change my shirt. So the best choice was one of the free t-shirts the Wizards gave to everyone at one of their playoff games (this was a decidedly better choice than my first selection: an undersized field hockey t-shirt that apparently had a rip in it and a picture of a girl on the back (not that my drunk ass noticed). Now that would have been a great way to show up to work.) So I roll up to work at 9 with a free t-shirt on, unshaven, and with another shirt in my hand. I must have been the picture of professionalism. Oh, and I was still drunk. I still had a buzz until noon. Can someone please explain to me how I not only still have a job, but I’m actually good at what I do? If you can, I’d appreciate it.
Now keep in mind, we know absolutely no one in this group. There wasn’t even a highly entertaining person in this group. We got invited and didn’t ask questions. The first thing that occurred when we got to the hotel, was the groom wanted to make a speech. He was unable to find the bottle of champagne he had saved for the occasion. Me, being the gentleman that I am, agreed to help him look for it. It wasn’t in the first fridge, but I was able to find a second fridge that had the bottle in it. Unfortunately, I took the refrigerator out of the wall in order to do so. So that Marriot might need to get another refrigerator because I do not have the basic manually dexterity to do the complex job of opening a refrigerator door.
Undeterred by this, the groom made his speech. He then passed the champagne bottle around to his friends who said what they had to say, and then passed it on to the next one. It somehow was given to me (don’t ask me why this group had allowed me to stay up until this point), I then proceeded to give my true feelings for this moment. “I don’t know any of you, but you seem like good people, so congratulations. And thanks for the alcohol.” (Commence taking ginormous slug of champagne). You stay classy, Barney.
I ended up crashing around 4 in the morning. This wouldn’t be bad if I didn’t have to be up at 8 to go to work. Not just the normal, “Barney’s the only one working on a weekend” stuff, but the two most important clients would be there this weekend. I roll out of bed at 8:15, head right to the bathroom and puke some water up. Not only that, I somehow get a bloody nose, so I’m dripping blood as well (I swear I’m not doing coke). I take a quick shower. Even classier, I never made it home the night before, so I’ll have to wear the same clothes I wore the day before. Me being the bright one that I am, I decide that I might be able to fool people if I change my shirt. So the best choice was one of the free t-shirts the Wizards gave to everyone at one of their playoff games (this was a decidedly better choice than my first selection: an undersized field hockey t-shirt that apparently had a rip in it and a picture of a girl on the back (not that my drunk ass noticed). Now that would have been a great way to show up to work.) So I roll up to work at 9 with a free t-shirt on, unshaven, and with another shirt in my hand. I must have been the picture of professionalism. Oh, and I was still drunk. I still had a buzz until noon. Can someone please explain to me how I not only still have a job, but I’m actually good at what I do? If you can, I’d appreciate it.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Monday Morning Hangover
I’m glad that my blog is so influential that I now have people from ESPN taking my shtick. If you haven’t noticed, DJ Gallo’s weekly column is entitled “NFL Hangover.” I’m sure some of you are saying, “But Barney, you blatantly stole your title from Peter King.” And you’d be 100% correct. And I’m not even upset, because DJ Gallo is probably 10 times funnier than me. So do I have a point? Like most of the time, I don’t. I just wanted to point something out. And I’ll segue that into the Awfulness Rankings.
Terrible: Big East. South Florida had a decent win over Kansas. This will probably be the biggest win for the Big East this year.
Horrible: ACC. Maryland beating Cal nearly made up for losing to Middle Tennessee. Also, Mid Tenn went right to the wire with Kentucky.
Awful: The Big 10. After Ohio State’s shitfest, I would recommend that the Big 10 be relegated to I-AA or whatever the hell they’re calling it for now. That was an absolutely awful performance. Michigan didn’t help by getting handled by Notre Dame.
Worth noting that if USC lost on Saturday, the Pac 10 would have a case to be in the Horrible position considering UCLA’s even bigger dump than Ohio State. Alright, we’re done with this segment (it’s already losing steam after two weeks). Other thoughts on the weekend in football.
Ohio State may suck spectacularly, but will be watchable once they get Tyrelle Pryor in the game on every down. I’m glad Jim Tressel decided to use his best qb only sporadically in the biggest game of the year. Please go out and buy his new book on how to succeed in life.
So you’re telling me Brett Favre would throw a poorly thrown ball that would prove to be the game changing interception? You’re kidding me. That’s not like him at all. And you wonder why I wasn’t giddy over his signing. Another year of chasing after the Wild Card.
That was a terrible call, but honestly, I can’t be mad at Ed Hochuli. He’s provided too much entertainment over the years. Also, he was in Runner’s World this month as their celebrity runner which caused me to say under my breath while on the train, “Holy shit, it’s Ed fucking Hochuli.” Now that’s a proven best practice in getting a seat to yourself: Random comments about specific NFL officials.
This was a piss poor attempt this week. Saturday I had an excuse because I spent all day getting my car fixed, and it wasn’t even finished (time for Brock to bring back the “Towed Lumies” fantasy football team name). So I pretty much just caught the USC trouncing. Sunday I was a waste, though I’m not sure I would have many comments anyway.
Terrible: Big East. South Florida had a decent win over Kansas. This will probably be the biggest win for the Big East this year.
Horrible: ACC. Maryland beating Cal nearly made up for losing to Middle Tennessee. Also, Mid Tenn went right to the wire with Kentucky.
Awful: The Big 10. After Ohio State’s shitfest, I would recommend that the Big 10 be relegated to I-AA or whatever the hell they’re calling it for now. That was an absolutely awful performance. Michigan didn’t help by getting handled by Notre Dame.
Worth noting that if USC lost on Saturday, the Pac 10 would have a case to be in the Horrible position considering UCLA’s even bigger dump than Ohio State. Alright, we’re done with this segment (it’s already losing steam after two weeks). Other thoughts on the weekend in football.
Ohio State may suck spectacularly, but will be watchable once they get Tyrelle Pryor in the game on every down. I’m glad Jim Tressel decided to use his best qb only sporadically in the biggest game of the year. Please go out and buy his new book on how to succeed in life.
So you’re telling me Brett Favre would throw a poorly thrown ball that would prove to be the game changing interception? You’re kidding me. That’s not like him at all. And you wonder why I wasn’t giddy over his signing. Another year of chasing after the Wild Card.
That was a terrible call, but honestly, I can’t be mad at Ed Hochuli. He’s provided too much entertainment over the years. Also, he was in Runner’s World this month as their celebrity runner which caused me to say under my breath while on the train, “Holy shit, it’s Ed fucking Hochuli.” Now that’s a proven best practice in getting a seat to yourself: Random comments about specific NFL officials.
This was a piss poor attempt this week. Saturday I had an excuse because I spent all day getting my car fixed, and it wasn’t even finished (time for Brock to bring back the “Towed Lumies” fantasy football team name). So I pretty much just caught the USC trouncing. Sunday I was a waste, though I’m not sure I would have many comments anyway.
Friday, September 12, 2008
What Has Science Done for Me Lately?
Science has been focused recently on accelerating particles at tremendous speeds to potentially recreate the Big Bang scenario. I'm sure this will bring a wealth of knowledge to our world, but how does that help me? I need science to help me out in my day to day life.
http://alcalc.oxfordjournals.org/cgi/content/abstract/agn065
That will do just fine. I can now say it's scientifically proven that it's not completely my fault. I now plan on printing this out and taking the abstract out with me to bars so I can console myself in the morning with science.
http://alcalc.oxfordjournals.org/cgi/content/abstract/agn065
That will do just fine. I can now say it's scientifically proven that it's not completely my fault. I now plan on printing this out and taking the abstract out with me to bars so I can console myself in the morning with science.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Monday Morning Hangover - Week 1
Welcome to this season’s inaugural edition of Monday Morning Hangover, The Barney Show’s weekend football wrap up. Last week, we had some technical difficulties (i.e. my laptop wouldn’t turn on) that prevented us from getting into the first weekend of college football. This week’s results didn’t change my opinion as to what I wanted to do last weekend. In fact, they bolstered them. Going forward, we’ll have a Barney Show exclusive: NCAA Awfulness Index. We’ll be tracking week by week, which conference is the most awful: The Big Ten, ACC or Big East. We’ll be using the Bill Walton scale of awfulness with terrible being the best, horrible in between and awful as the conference in the history of Western Civilization. So who’s the most awful after two weeks?
Terrible: The Big Ten. In the first two weeks, Michigan has lost to Utah at home, Ohio St and Michigan got scares at home from MAC teams and Illinois got whacked by Missouri. That is terrible from a conference that considers itself to be good. Anyway, the entire season will be decided next week. If Ohio State can beat USC in the Coliseum, then the Big Ten is permanently off the Awful Index and they will be justified in getting blown out by an SEC team in the National Championship. If they get beaten badly, the Big Ten should start thinking about going I-AA.
Horrible: The Big East. West Virginia, thanks for coming out. I could see this one coming and was even going to write in last weeks Hangover that “I’m looking forward to seeing East Carolina-WVa. I have a feeling that East Carolina will take them.” Since I couldn’t use my laptop last weekend, I could be lying. But I’m not right very often, so I need to take credit when I can.
Awful: ACC. When your conference’s best performance is losing 26-3 or whatever Miami lost to Florida by, you have problems. Within the first 90 seconds of the Alabama-Clemson game, I said, “Alabama is going to beat their asses tonight.” And I was proven right. Virginia Tech lost to East Carolina earlier in the day. So when you’re top 2 teams get beaten (and more importantly, outplayed) on neutral fields by unranked teams, you official are awful. Also, Maryland lost to Middle Tennesse State. In fact, based on East Carolina’s wins, I’d rank Conference USA over both the Big East and ACC.
Ok, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, we’ll go on to the NFL games this weekend. Oh, right. I didn’t see any NFL action this week because I was working. But based on the limited amount I’ve seen, here are some thoughts.
Brett Favre throwing jump balls in the end zone for touchdowns. They’re trying to give me a heart attack this season. If the Jets have to live and die by Brett’s decisions in the red zone this year, it just might have a nervous breakdown.
I also approve of the no kicker policy. I advocated for this after Mike Nugent missed a 23 yarder to tie a pre-season game. I actually wrote this, but never put it up on the Barney Show because I never got past the AFC East in my NFL Preview. “I’m not looking forward to anything involving the kicker at all. I think they should institute a team wide policy of either punting or going for it on fourth down.” So this is the second instance of me being right that I’m asking you to believe. I might be pushing it.
I’m glad I used a keeper pick on Tom Brady. I enjoy getting a text at 1:22 during week 1 saying my fantasy season is over. Speaking of fantasy, he might have not even been starting since I didn’t actually look at my roster since the draft on Monday. I’m glad I entered a fantasy football league when FF is blocked at work. I’ll be very active on the trade wire.
On the good side, however, this does give the J-E-T-S, Jets, Jets, Jets a better chance of winning their division. So there is that.
If Chad Ocho Cinco changed his name for nothing, I’m going to be very pissed. Half the reason I picked him was so I could look at my roster every week and at least laugh at something. For the record, I think this is one of the most entertaining things an athlete has ever done. The Bengals are already a joke. They might as well make it official.
If you’re asking, “Barney, why didn’t you just work on Saturday during a shitty slate of college games so you could work on Sunday” that would be a very good question. The answer to that is two pronged. First, there was a tropical storm passing through on Saturday which made transportation a bit of a problem. Second, I got pretty drunk Friday night, though not nearly as bad as Stan Man. He had one of the all-time great ideas when he decided, “You know what, this walk back to my apartment isn’t fun enough. Punching random cars as I walk by would spice things up.” Of course, like the third one he hit had a group of four Mexicans in it, so we nearly got our asses beat. Stan Man was a shrewd negotiator though. When one of us tried to explain that he was really drunk, Stan Man fell right on his face and came up bleeding. It was almost like that story in Training Day where the guy puts peanut butter in his ass and eats it right in front of the judge. Except those were real cuts. Me and Stan Man should not be allowed to go out together, ever.
In summary, the highlight of the weekend was watching the Ohio-Ohio St game and seeing that they had a quarterback named Boo Jackson. I was hoping he was Bo’s illegitimate child, but alas, it was not to be. Now I’m just confused if he actually knows how close his name is to a legend and if this factored into someone giving them that nickname. We shall never know.
Terrible: The Big Ten. In the first two weeks, Michigan has lost to Utah at home, Ohio St and Michigan got scares at home from MAC teams and Illinois got whacked by Missouri. That is terrible from a conference that considers itself to be good. Anyway, the entire season will be decided next week. If Ohio State can beat USC in the Coliseum, then the Big Ten is permanently off the Awful Index and they will be justified in getting blown out by an SEC team in the National Championship. If they get beaten badly, the Big Ten should start thinking about going I-AA.
Horrible: The Big East. West Virginia, thanks for coming out. I could see this one coming and was even going to write in last weeks Hangover that “I’m looking forward to seeing East Carolina-WVa. I have a feeling that East Carolina will take them.” Since I couldn’t use my laptop last weekend, I could be lying. But I’m not right very often, so I need to take credit when I can.
Awful: ACC. When your conference’s best performance is losing 26-3 or whatever Miami lost to Florida by, you have problems. Within the first 90 seconds of the Alabama-Clemson game, I said, “Alabama is going to beat their asses tonight.” And I was proven right. Virginia Tech lost to East Carolina earlier in the day. So when you’re top 2 teams get beaten (and more importantly, outplayed) on neutral fields by unranked teams, you official are awful. Also, Maryland lost to Middle Tennesse State. In fact, based on East Carolina’s wins, I’d rank Conference USA over both the Big East and ACC.
Ok, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, we’ll go on to the NFL games this weekend. Oh, right. I didn’t see any NFL action this week because I was working. But based on the limited amount I’ve seen, here are some thoughts.
Brett Favre throwing jump balls in the end zone for touchdowns. They’re trying to give me a heart attack this season. If the Jets have to live and die by Brett’s decisions in the red zone this year, it just might have a nervous breakdown.
I also approve of the no kicker policy. I advocated for this after Mike Nugent missed a 23 yarder to tie a pre-season game. I actually wrote this, but never put it up on the Barney Show because I never got past the AFC East in my NFL Preview. “I’m not looking forward to anything involving the kicker at all. I think they should institute a team wide policy of either punting or going for it on fourth down.” So this is the second instance of me being right that I’m asking you to believe. I might be pushing it.
I’m glad I used a keeper pick on Tom Brady. I enjoy getting a text at 1:22 during week 1 saying my fantasy season is over. Speaking of fantasy, he might have not even been starting since I didn’t actually look at my roster since the draft on Monday. I’m glad I entered a fantasy football league when FF is blocked at work. I’ll be very active on the trade wire.
On the good side, however, this does give the J-E-T-S, Jets, Jets, Jets a better chance of winning their division. So there is that.
If Chad Ocho Cinco changed his name for nothing, I’m going to be very pissed. Half the reason I picked him was so I could look at my roster every week and at least laugh at something. For the record, I think this is one of the most entertaining things an athlete has ever done. The Bengals are already a joke. They might as well make it official.
If you’re asking, “Barney, why didn’t you just work on Saturday during a shitty slate of college games so you could work on Sunday” that would be a very good question. The answer to that is two pronged. First, there was a tropical storm passing through on Saturday which made transportation a bit of a problem. Second, I got pretty drunk Friday night, though not nearly as bad as Stan Man. He had one of the all-time great ideas when he decided, “You know what, this walk back to my apartment isn’t fun enough. Punching random cars as I walk by would spice things up.” Of course, like the third one he hit had a group of four Mexicans in it, so we nearly got our asses beat. Stan Man was a shrewd negotiator though. When one of us tried to explain that he was really drunk, Stan Man fell right on his face and came up bleeding. It was almost like that story in Training Day where the guy puts peanut butter in his ass and eats it right in front of the judge. Except those were real cuts. Me and Stan Man should not be allowed to go out together, ever.
In summary, the highlight of the weekend was watching the Ohio-Ohio St game and seeing that they had a quarterback named Boo Jackson. I was hoping he was Bo’s illegitimate child, but alas, it was not to be. Now I’m just confused if he actually knows how close his name is to a legend and if this factored into someone giving them that nickname. We shall never know.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
NFL Preview
I honestly was going to do a team by team analysis of things I was looking forward to this year. I even got the AFC East completed. But then I saw this, and realized, I could not top this:
http://radaronline.com/features/2008/08/nfl_season_scandal_pacman_jones_michael_vick_adrian_awasom_01.php
Mine would basically be a rehashing of that, so I’ll just save myself 4 hours and just copy and paste a link. Also, I was about to write this years first edition of Monday Morning Hangover on Sunday when my computer crashed. So I’m not sure if I’ll be completing that this week. I astound myself sometimes with my level of commitment to this blog.
http://radaronline.com/features/2008/08/nfl_season_scandal_pacman_jones_michael_vick_adrian_awasom_01.php
Mine would basically be a rehashing of that, so I’ll just save myself 4 hours and just copy and paste a link. Also, I was about to write this years first edition of Monday Morning Hangover on Sunday when my computer crashed. So I’m not sure if I’ll be completing that this week. I astound myself sometimes with my level of commitment to this blog.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
What's the Deal with Cancer?
From Christian water parks to another existential question I’m having right now. Is banging a girl who just recovered from cancer an act of kindness or of a complete asshole? Let’s have the esteemed panel of Stephen A. Smith and Bill Walton take a break from NBA Fastbreak to debate this point.
SAS: The bottom line my friend, is that what Barney did was an act of kindness. He was boosting her self esteem. BOOSTING HER SELF ESTEEM.
BW: I beg to differ, Stephen A. In my opinion, what Barney did was hooorrrrible.
SAS: Were you listening to me? The girl needed something to boost her confidence. Barney sacrificed himself so she could get her own game going. That’s what all great players do. They make those around them better.
BW: Taking advantage of a girl who was down on her luck is one of the worst things I’ve heard of in the history of Western Civilization.
SAS: Taking advantage? What Shaq in his prime did to Rasho Nasterevic was taking advantage of someone. Barney didn’t even bring his A game out. I’d dare to say he didn’t even bring his C game.
BW: I remember one time back was a student at UCLA. There was a young female who had just gotten over a nasty case of the gout. I hadn’t seen her around in awhile and was concerned for her well being. These were the days of free love and The Grateful Dead were playing in the background. One of my friends noticed her amorous overtones and told me to, “Throw it down Big Man.” But in the back of my mind I heard one of John Wooden’s greatest sayings: “Give a man a fish, and he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he eats for a lifetime.
SAS: What does that mean? I ask you, what does that mean?
BW: Ah Stephen A. Understand that, and you’ll understand the meaning of life. Just like a perfectly executed cross screen.
SAS: I give up. Where are my cheese doodles?
Alright, that was either the most ingenious thing I’ve written here or the worst. But I’m going to continue to do as many drunk Barney stories in other peoples voices as possible. Because it hides the fact that I’m basically telling the same thing over and over.
Anyway, because I don’t want my point of view distorted by Stephen A, here are the facts (as well as I can relay them because I was blacked out for portions of the night).
Her friend asked me a month or so ago what I thought about her. She was apparently looking to get some and her first choice was me (Yes, I’m surprised as well. It must be my charming personality. Or maybe my record for sobriety. Maybe she has a thing for guys who have gained 25 pounds since leaving college. Or maybe its none of those)
She came out to the bar with us specifically to see me. Her friend mentioned this and said that it would be good for her.
I did not put much effort into kicking game (not that I have any to begin with). In fact I was actively trying to not kick game because I was unsure of the moral ramifications.
Sometime after I ordered a Jack on the rocks that had to have at least 5 ounces of Jack, I blacked out.
Honestly, I’m just confused right now and how I should feel about myself. Am I a scumbag for taking advantage of someone on the rebound? A guy who gave some attention to someone who needed it and if I got something out of it, all the better? Was I taken advantage of?
No matter how this ends up, I’ve learned two things from this:
1. You can’t see a surgical scar in the dark
and 2. There’s pretty much no worse feeling in the world than being woken up at 8:30 in the morning, hungover, and being told, “You need to go. My friend’s coming over and we’re going to the zoo.”
SAS: The bottom line my friend, is that what Barney did was an act of kindness. He was boosting her self esteem. BOOSTING HER SELF ESTEEM.
BW: I beg to differ, Stephen A. In my opinion, what Barney did was hooorrrrible.
SAS: Were you listening to me? The girl needed something to boost her confidence. Barney sacrificed himself so she could get her own game going. That’s what all great players do. They make those around them better.
BW: Taking advantage of a girl who was down on her luck is one of the worst things I’ve heard of in the history of Western Civilization.
SAS: Taking advantage? What Shaq in his prime did to Rasho Nasterevic was taking advantage of someone. Barney didn’t even bring his A game out. I’d dare to say he didn’t even bring his C game.
BW: I remember one time back was a student at UCLA. There was a young female who had just gotten over a nasty case of the gout. I hadn’t seen her around in awhile and was concerned for her well being. These were the days of free love and The Grateful Dead were playing in the background. One of my friends noticed her amorous overtones and told me to, “Throw it down Big Man.” But in the back of my mind I heard one of John Wooden’s greatest sayings: “Give a man a fish, and he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he eats for a lifetime.
SAS: What does that mean? I ask you, what does that mean?
BW: Ah Stephen A. Understand that, and you’ll understand the meaning of life. Just like a perfectly executed cross screen.
SAS: I give up. Where are my cheese doodles?
Alright, that was either the most ingenious thing I’ve written here or the worst. But I’m going to continue to do as many drunk Barney stories in other peoples voices as possible. Because it hides the fact that I’m basically telling the same thing over and over.
Anyway, because I don’t want my point of view distorted by Stephen A, here are the facts (as well as I can relay them because I was blacked out for portions of the night).
Her friend asked me a month or so ago what I thought about her. She was apparently looking to get some and her first choice was me (Yes, I’m surprised as well. It must be my charming personality. Or maybe my record for sobriety. Maybe she has a thing for guys who have gained 25 pounds since leaving college. Or maybe its none of those)
She came out to the bar with us specifically to see me. Her friend mentioned this and said that it would be good for her.
I did not put much effort into kicking game (not that I have any to begin with). In fact I was actively trying to not kick game because I was unsure of the moral ramifications.
Sometime after I ordered a Jack on the rocks that had to have at least 5 ounces of Jack, I blacked out.
Honestly, I’m just confused right now and how I should feel about myself. Am I a scumbag for taking advantage of someone on the rebound? A guy who gave some attention to someone who needed it and if I got something out of it, all the better? Was I taken advantage of?
No matter how this ends up, I’ve learned two things from this:
1. You can’t see a surgical scar in the dark
and 2. There’s pretty much no worse feeling in the world than being woken up at 8:30 in the morning, hungover, and being told, “You need to go. My friend’s coming over and we’re going to the zoo.”
Worst Texas Toast Ever
You’re probably wondering to yourself, “Where was this month’s edition of Texas Toast?” (Really? It hasn’t entered the first 1,498 concerns you have? Ok, well then. I know my place in the world.) The reason for that is it would just end up with me getting really pissed off. And we don’t want that. So I’ll tell the one good story that really gets to the heart of what I want Texas Toast to be. My brother Chubb Rock joined me. He didn’t get there in time, however, for him to go with my daughter and I to a water park. We had the following conversation:
Barney: “So the water park…it was a Christian water park.”
Chubb Rock: “What do you mean Christian water park? Did they have rides about Jesus.”
Barney: “Not really. It was more subtle. They just had random Bible quotes all over. They didn’t really address the real question I had. Would Jesus go to a water park?”
Chubb Rock: “I’m kind of thinking he wouldn’t. He could just walk on water. I could imagine him standing on top of the wave pool going, ‘I don’t get what the big fuss is about.”
That my friends, is how you bring the funny, Texas Toast style. Completely mocking someone’s way of life by using logic. Well done, my friend, well done. I myself could not have said anything funnier than that, so we’ll just move on.
Barney: “So the water park…it was a Christian water park.”
Chubb Rock: “What do you mean Christian water park? Did they have rides about Jesus.”
Barney: “Not really. It was more subtle. They just had random Bible quotes all over. They didn’t really address the real question I had. Would Jesus go to a water park?”
Chubb Rock: “I’m kind of thinking he wouldn’t. He could just walk on water. I could imagine him standing on top of the wave pool going, ‘I don’t get what the big fuss is about.”
That my friends, is how you bring the funny, Texas Toast style. Completely mocking someone’s way of life by using logic. Well done, my friend, well done. I myself could not have said anything funnier than that, so we’ll just move on.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Barney Goes to New Orleans; Learns Valuable Lessons
We’ll do a separate episode to address why I took a month off and what happened during that month that needs to be addressed, but since we never do anything in a logic fashion here on the Barney Show, let’s go right into stupid Barney story time. This time, our hero conquers the Crescent City, New Orleans. So what did we learn on our trip. We’re going question and answer forum. First up…
Who paid for this trip?
Why the 8732 of course. Before you start getting your panties in a bunch about the government paying for me to fly to a city where I would obviously get drunk, consider this. The government only pays for 40 hours of my work a week. I obviously work a lot more than that. So in my mind, they owe me a lot more trips before things start evening out in my favor.
Did you stop by the Super Dome?
No, because I was afraid I would kick anything that had Reggie Bush adorned on it. That bastard wrecked havoc on my fantasy team last year.
Where did you stay?
This was when I realized this would end with some sort of story…when we pulled up to our hotel and realized I could see Bourbon St from the front of the hotel. We were closer than walking distance. I’d say stumbling distance.
What’s the worst part about your company paying for you to travel?T
hat they expect you to still do work. Nearly all the time I wasn’t in meetings, I was doing work that needed to get done back in DC.
Please tell me you didn’t get a free trip to New Orleans and you spent it in your hotel room answering e-mails. Has the Barney I’ve grown to admire (and by admire I mean thank the Lord every day that I’m not as bad an alky as he is) gone soft?
Of course not my dear reader. I came back from dinner the first night and answered some e-mails. Then a thought popped into my head when I considered going to bed. “Barney, it’s Bourbon St for God’s sakes. If there’s a street in America that you need to spend time on, this is it.” Faster than you can say, “I’ll do it”, I was out the door. First stop, a random bar to ingest as much Bourbon as quickly as possible.
What did you learn with regards to your compulsiveness?
Umm…I might have a bit of an aversion towards compulsive behavior. Not only does Bourbon St have plenty of booze, but it’s also within walking distance to a casino. Within 45 minutes, I had dropped $300 at the craps tables. I don’t take losing too well. Not only did I start doubling bets, when I finally decided it wasn’t my night (Wait, so you’re saying you’re unlucky? Tell me more. I’d also be interested in hearing some more about this “internet” I’ve been hearing about.), I decided I need to soothe my nerves. And what better way to do that then the row of strip clubs on Bourbon St.
How has Pacman Jones impacted our lives?
I’ll say this about the man: I can’t think of an athlete who had such a disproportionate effect on my everyday life as compared to the athletic field. I mean, can anyone now go into a strip club without thinking about that man? I felt inadequate by not walking in with a garbage bag full of singles. Now, we’ll get into the actual learning part of our night.
Do strip clubs charge exhorbently large fees on ATM withdrawals?
I know this will be hard to believe, but yes, they do. $9 in fact for this one. Who would have known that strip clubs might try to swindle you for all you’re worth. Not this stupid Yankee apparently.
Is there anything I should know about using a credit card at a strip club?
Besides, don’t do it? If you have to, try and see if they’ll get a fingerprint on your signed receipt. Not because it’s a good financial fraud tool, but just because you’ll feel classy being piss drunk and being forced to fingerprint something. Also, I’d recommend you keep your receipt. Nothing makes you feel better after considering the irreparable damage that might be caused to your credit rating than waking up with a receipt from that place. There was visible relief when I realized I had proof to dispute a possible $20,000 charge. The fact that it says “Babes” on top of it is of no consequence. In fact, it’s making me look forward to getting my credit card bill this month. I’m not sure if I want it to say “Gas $43.50, Giant Supermarket $67.98, Babes $180.00” or if I want to see how they try and disguise that.
Does Bank of America have a solid anti-fraud policy?
Yes, it does. First, it cut off my access to cash at around 1 am forcing me to resort to using the credit card. Second, I received a call at 7 am the next morning: “This is Bank of America. In monitoring recent transactions, we’ve noticed several suspicious charges. Can you please verify that these charges are accurate: $303? $209? $109?” I tell you there is no worse wake up call than being hungover and having an automated voice reminding you of all the stupid transactions you’ve made the night before. Especially cruel was that I was reminded of the $9 transaction charge they hit me with. “Bank of America: Security so good, it makes you cringe.”
So did you get to the meeting the next morning?
Of course I did. No one can be play the functional alcoholic better than me (more on this later). I was still buzzed when I woke up, but after a cup of coffee, I was good as new.
How did growing up in the West End influence you on this trip?
You can take me out the West End, but you can’t take the West End out of me. First off was the drinking water. After the second day, someone made a comment that they asked the front desk if they could make coffee in their rooms with the drinking water. This alarmed me because A) I had already had several cups of coffee made with the tap water as well as who knows how many glasses of water to try and defeat the hangover from the night before, B) it never occurred to me that something might be wrong with the drinking water and C) Even after thinking, “Hmm…they did have a natural disaster here less than 3 years ago. Maybe it’s not safe”, saying to myself, “Fuck it, you’ve taken more brown showers than you care to remember. What’s some more bad water?” So the West End has developed an innate sense of confidence in my body’s ability to get rid of toxins (plus I keep it on its toes by putting as many toxins in as I can into it).
Secondly, I realized that we didn’t go out to dinner much when I was growing up. They gave out bread at the restaurant and I grabbed it and pulled a piece off with my bare hands. It didn’t occur to me that I was out to dinner with people I really didn’t know and I should use a knife. Stay classy Barney.
What else did you learn about yourself on this trip?
That I’m really out of touch with most people. I didn’t know anyone outside of a purely business relationship (I’ll have that document to you in the morning, Ruby. How’d that meeting go Mr. Glenn?) and now I’m having to make conversation with them. While they can tell all these things about different foods they’ve eaten and cooked, tv shows they like to watch and other normal, healthy things, if it doesn’t involve sports, beer and liquor, drinking stories or the different systems we use at work, I’m at a loss.
Is there anything worse than a guy who thinks he’s a wine coinsurer?
Not that I can think of. Listen buddy, we know you like to spend money on wine. That’s great, but I don’t, so you don’t have to talk to me about how 1998 was a great year for merlots or some shit like that. Let’s make a deal. You don’t talk about wines, I won’t make jokes comparing the hostesses clock management skills to Herm Edwards. Deal? Deal.
So how did you play up the functional alcoholic?
I’m at an advantage to start with because sober Barney is very quiet. So most people don’t know my speech mannerisms well enough to tell when I’m hurting. Next, I come into work nearly everyday with some sort of hangover. I’m usually not functioning on all cylinders until at least 10:30. So if they have dealt with me enough, half the time I’m in some sort of less than optimal mental state. All this contributes to me being able to mask the fact that it’s 7:30, we’re going to a meeting, and I’m still drunk.
Should you ever eat Italian food south of Philadelphia?
This is something I feel strongly about. No you should not. Two of the worst meals I’ve ever had was lasagna in Dallas and a meatball sub in New Orleans. It’s just not worth the risk.
Finally, you were in meetings all day. Were you able to work in a Simpsons’ reference?
Now this is a stupid question. Of course I was. I had to sit there for 8 hours a day and listen to people talk about a system I saw for the first time upon arrival. I spoke less than 100 words the entire time there. How could I not make a Simpson’s reference. Anyway, I was able to work in one of my all time favorite quotes.
One of the technical people for this new system’s last name was Cang. Pronounced Kang. Every once in awhile, she would say something inaccurate about the system. After the second or third time this happened, it took every ounce of strength to not get up and announce to the rest of the table, “Don’t blame me. I voted for Kodos.” I probably would have had to retire because that one would never be topped in my professional life.
On that note, it’s good to be back. Texas Toast next week with hopefully a wrap up of the past month in between.
Who paid for this trip?
Why the 8732 of course. Before you start getting your panties in a bunch about the government paying for me to fly to a city where I would obviously get drunk, consider this. The government only pays for 40 hours of my work a week. I obviously work a lot more than that. So in my mind, they owe me a lot more trips before things start evening out in my favor.
Did you stop by the Super Dome?
No, because I was afraid I would kick anything that had Reggie Bush adorned on it. That bastard wrecked havoc on my fantasy team last year.
Where did you stay?
This was when I realized this would end with some sort of story…when we pulled up to our hotel and realized I could see Bourbon St from the front of the hotel. We were closer than walking distance. I’d say stumbling distance.
What’s the worst part about your company paying for you to travel?T
hat they expect you to still do work. Nearly all the time I wasn’t in meetings, I was doing work that needed to get done back in DC.
Please tell me you didn’t get a free trip to New Orleans and you spent it in your hotel room answering e-mails. Has the Barney I’ve grown to admire (and by admire I mean thank the Lord every day that I’m not as bad an alky as he is) gone soft?
Of course not my dear reader. I came back from dinner the first night and answered some e-mails. Then a thought popped into my head when I considered going to bed. “Barney, it’s Bourbon St for God’s sakes. If there’s a street in America that you need to spend time on, this is it.” Faster than you can say, “I’ll do it”, I was out the door. First stop, a random bar to ingest as much Bourbon as quickly as possible.
What did you learn with regards to your compulsiveness?
Umm…I might have a bit of an aversion towards compulsive behavior. Not only does Bourbon St have plenty of booze, but it’s also within walking distance to a casino. Within 45 minutes, I had dropped $300 at the craps tables. I don’t take losing too well. Not only did I start doubling bets, when I finally decided it wasn’t my night (Wait, so you’re saying you’re unlucky? Tell me more. I’d also be interested in hearing some more about this “internet” I’ve been hearing about.), I decided I need to soothe my nerves. And what better way to do that then the row of strip clubs on Bourbon St.
How has Pacman Jones impacted our lives?
I’ll say this about the man: I can’t think of an athlete who had such a disproportionate effect on my everyday life as compared to the athletic field. I mean, can anyone now go into a strip club without thinking about that man? I felt inadequate by not walking in with a garbage bag full of singles. Now, we’ll get into the actual learning part of our night.
Do strip clubs charge exhorbently large fees on ATM withdrawals?
I know this will be hard to believe, but yes, they do. $9 in fact for this one. Who would have known that strip clubs might try to swindle you for all you’re worth. Not this stupid Yankee apparently.
Is there anything I should know about using a credit card at a strip club?
Besides, don’t do it? If you have to, try and see if they’ll get a fingerprint on your signed receipt. Not because it’s a good financial fraud tool, but just because you’ll feel classy being piss drunk and being forced to fingerprint something. Also, I’d recommend you keep your receipt. Nothing makes you feel better after considering the irreparable damage that might be caused to your credit rating than waking up with a receipt from that place. There was visible relief when I realized I had proof to dispute a possible $20,000 charge. The fact that it says “Babes” on top of it is of no consequence. In fact, it’s making me look forward to getting my credit card bill this month. I’m not sure if I want it to say “Gas $43.50, Giant Supermarket $67.98, Babes $180.00” or if I want to see how they try and disguise that.
Does Bank of America have a solid anti-fraud policy?
Yes, it does. First, it cut off my access to cash at around 1 am forcing me to resort to using the credit card. Second, I received a call at 7 am the next morning: “This is Bank of America. In monitoring recent transactions, we’ve noticed several suspicious charges. Can you please verify that these charges are accurate: $303? $209? $109?” I tell you there is no worse wake up call than being hungover and having an automated voice reminding you of all the stupid transactions you’ve made the night before. Especially cruel was that I was reminded of the $9 transaction charge they hit me with. “Bank of America: Security so good, it makes you cringe.”
So did you get to the meeting the next morning?
Of course I did. No one can be play the functional alcoholic better than me (more on this later). I was still buzzed when I woke up, but after a cup of coffee, I was good as new.
How did growing up in the West End influence you on this trip?
You can take me out the West End, but you can’t take the West End out of me. First off was the drinking water. After the second day, someone made a comment that they asked the front desk if they could make coffee in their rooms with the drinking water. This alarmed me because A) I had already had several cups of coffee made with the tap water as well as who knows how many glasses of water to try and defeat the hangover from the night before, B) it never occurred to me that something might be wrong with the drinking water and C) Even after thinking, “Hmm…they did have a natural disaster here less than 3 years ago. Maybe it’s not safe”, saying to myself, “Fuck it, you’ve taken more brown showers than you care to remember. What’s some more bad water?” So the West End has developed an innate sense of confidence in my body’s ability to get rid of toxins (plus I keep it on its toes by putting as many toxins in as I can into it).
Secondly, I realized that we didn’t go out to dinner much when I was growing up. They gave out bread at the restaurant and I grabbed it and pulled a piece off with my bare hands. It didn’t occur to me that I was out to dinner with people I really didn’t know and I should use a knife. Stay classy Barney.
What else did you learn about yourself on this trip?
That I’m really out of touch with most people. I didn’t know anyone outside of a purely business relationship (I’ll have that document to you in the morning, Ruby. How’d that meeting go Mr. Glenn?) and now I’m having to make conversation with them. While they can tell all these things about different foods they’ve eaten and cooked, tv shows they like to watch and other normal, healthy things, if it doesn’t involve sports, beer and liquor, drinking stories or the different systems we use at work, I’m at a loss.
Is there anything worse than a guy who thinks he’s a wine coinsurer?
Not that I can think of. Listen buddy, we know you like to spend money on wine. That’s great, but I don’t, so you don’t have to talk to me about how 1998 was a great year for merlots or some shit like that. Let’s make a deal. You don’t talk about wines, I won’t make jokes comparing the hostesses clock management skills to Herm Edwards. Deal? Deal.
So how did you play up the functional alcoholic?
I’m at an advantage to start with because sober Barney is very quiet. So most people don’t know my speech mannerisms well enough to tell when I’m hurting. Next, I come into work nearly everyday with some sort of hangover. I’m usually not functioning on all cylinders until at least 10:30. So if they have dealt with me enough, half the time I’m in some sort of less than optimal mental state. All this contributes to me being able to mask the fact that it’s 7:30, we’re going to a meeting, and I’m still drunk.
Should you ever eat Italian food south of Philadelphia?
This is something I feel strongly about. No you should not. Two of the worst meals I’ve ever had was lasagna in Dallas and a meatball sub in New Orleans. It’s just not worth the risk.
Finally, you were in meetings all day. Were you able to work in a Simpsons’ reference?
Now this is a stupid question. Of course I was. I had to sit there for 8 hours a day and listen to people talk about a system I saw for the first time upon arrival. I spoke less than 100 words the entire time there. How could I not make a Simpson’s reference. Anyway, I was able to work in one of my all time favorite quotes.
One of the technical people for this new system’s last name was Cang. Pronounced Kang. Every once in awhile, she would say something inaccurate about the system. After the second or third time this happened, it took every ounce of strength to not get up and announce to the rest of the table, “Don’t blame me. I voted for Kodos.” I probably would have had to retire because that one would never be topped in my professional life.
On that note, it’s good to be back. Texas Toast next week with hopefully a wrap up of the past month in between.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Ron Artest...Enough Said
"This is Tracy (McGrady) and Yao’s team, you know,” Artest said. “I’m not going to take it personal. I understand what Yao said, but I’m still ghetto. That’s not going to change. I’m never going to change my culture. Yao has played with a lot of black players, but I don’t think he’s ever played with a black player that really represents his culture as much as I represent my culture."
I'm back.
I'm back.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Welcome to the S#!@ Show
I’d like to think this weekend represented the best chance I’ve ever had of dying. Why? Because I was headed to upstate NY for Doh Boy’s wedding with the Stan Man. Stan is the one person who actually gets me nervous about hanging out and drinking with because he’s the only one who pushes me to whole other levels of drunkenness. We like to recreate the Bird-Wilkins shootout in ’88 every time we go out. And this had a higher potential for debauchery because A) it was an open bar and B) we didn’t have to go to work the next day (we’ll usually do an after work happy hour that ends around 11-12 at night. Work the next day is rough). Let’s get this shit show on the road.
The SS started off poorly. I had taken Friday and Monday off. I ended up working 5 hours on Friday. This put us behind schedule already. Further putting us behind schedule was going four miles in an hour and a half on an interstate in Pennsylvania. They apparently decided that it was a good time to paint the road and reduced it down to one lane. We were so far behind schedule in fact, that we had to make a pit stop in Scranton, PA to get some liquor because we would be cutting it close in finding an open liquor store by the time we got to NY. Because neither of has ever been to Scranton and probably never will, Stan Man decided to ask for directions. So yes, he did ask a 17 year old working at Wendy’s where the nearest liquor store was. She was only too happy to oblige and we had a liter of Gentleman Jack for ourselves should we get further delayed. That might have been the classiest thing I’ve ever witnessed. I saw him ask the girl and had to ask him, “Did you just ask a teenager girl where to find a liquor store?” I’m surprised Chris Hansen didn’t show up out of the Wendy’s bathroom.
We finally arrived in upstate New York around 11 and with no idea where we were going. Thank God Stan had had one of those GPS navigators because if not, we would have ended up in a cow farm. We showed up at this bar where everyone went after the reception dinner. It was here that something happened that only happens when you hang out with me. Since I haven’t seen Doh Boy in like 3 months, it made sense that I completely ignored him upon walking in to focus on CNN and ESPN on the tv’s because someone at the bar had said the magic words: “Did you see what it said about Pacman Jones? They found him dead.” I was immediately transfixed on this and realized that I didn’t want the moment I wanted to hear Pacman Jones was dead was in a rural bar (I was surprised that I had a subconscious desire of where to hear this). Eventually, I determined that someone had misinterpreted Pacman Jones’s statement “Pacman is dead” in his press conference saying he wanted to go by Adam (which he will not be called in this blog). Oh, and when I did talk to Doh Boy, he informed me he was quitting his job and moving to Angola. Yes, the Angola in Africa. The one that Charles Barkley elbowed in the chest during the 92 Olympics. You can’t get more random than that. Compared to that, following Pacman seems normal.
By the time I had gathered myself after figuring Pacman out, everyone was heading out. Luckily we still had the Gentlemen Jack and a 12 pack of Yuengling that we had picked up upon entering New York (Me and Stan Man are like the Boy Scouts of drinking, always prepared). We went to the house we were staying in with three other people. It was pretty random: a weird chick, a gay guy, and the coup d’resistance, a guy from either Kurdistan or Kazakhstan, some former part of the Soviet Union that is now a –stan. We immediately hit it off with the Crazy Russian, which he was referred to the rest of the weekend, because of our copious amounts of alcohol. Before going to bed (read: passing out) we finished what we had brought.
Saturday was the wedding day, but also the day of a soccer match between the Netherlands and Russia. Since nothing in my life can go according to plan, Stan Man had money on Netherlands winning Euro 2008 and of course the Crazy Russian was the usual crazy European soccer fan. We ended up showing up late to the wedding (with a six pack minimum in each of us), leaving immediately afterwards to go back to the house to watch overtime, and showing up late to the reception (but still with more alcohol in us than any of the other guests). For the record, Russia won 3-1 and the Crazy Russian kept making fun of Stan Man in his broken English, which highly entertained me.
As for the wedding, I think I hit either a high or low note in my life when I was seated at the table with Middle Schoolers. Within 20 minutes of talking to me, they had their first taste of alcohol in their lives. That seems about right. (In all honestly, I had nothing to do with it directly. The caterers had filled their glasses, the best man gave a toast, and they just wanted to fit in. And one goes to the other, “Well that was my first taste of alcohol.” It just seems appropriate though that they did it with no inhibitions after talking to me. Or after talking to me, they had no desire to continue drinking. One or the other. I’m like Fox News here, I tell a story, you decide how bad of an alcoholic I am).
There was also very little potential here. The only girl in her 20s was with the gay guy, who was protecting her like a hawk for some reason. Probably because the only guys in their 20s were me and Stan Man. It got to the point where the second best option I had was Doh Boy’s (who is 38) older sister. I wisely passed on that. We went back to the house and me and the Crazy Russian talked about American policy for 2 hours. I’d like the record to show that I out drank the guy who wouldn’t shut up about how at Russian weddings everyone gets a liter of vodka (said exactly how you would expect a Russian to say “a liter of vodka”) a day. He quit and went to bed before me, so I win. I love how I’m becoming a competitive alcoholic. This should bode well for me in the future.
Upon waking up Sunday morning, Stan Man decided that yes, he did want to go to Niagara Falls (2 hours out of our way) because, “I will never be back in Upstate New York ever again and if I do, I’ll be in a body bag, so this is my one chance to visit it.” Whatever, he was driving and I’ve agreed to things with less logic than that, so we were off. We saw the water for 5 minutes, then went got lunch and headed home. Being that I was involved in this traveling, it would not end well. We ended up on the Pennsylvania Turnpike getting a flat tire. Stan Man was so paranoid that we would end up dying or getting arrested this weekend that his first reaction when this happened was that the police had sent a helicopter to come get us. And of course, this happened in the middle of nowhere PA, 20 miles from the nearest exit and with a storm rolling in. Luckily, we got the flat changed without dying. We ended up getting home around 2 am Sunday night. 8 am, my phone starts ringing for work, when I have clearly told people I’m off. So for the record, I took 2 days off and ended up working 8 hours between them.
The SS started off poorly. I had taken Friday and Monday off. I ended up working 5 hours on Friday. This put us behind schedule already. Further putting us behind schedule was going four miles in an hour and a half on an interstate in Pennsylvania. They apparently decided that it was a good time to paint the road and reduced it down to one lane. We were so far behind schedule in fact, that we had to make a pit stop in Scranton, PA to get some liquor because we would be cutting it close in finding an open liquor store by the time we got to NY. Because neither of has ever been to Scranton and probably never will, Stan Man decided to ask for directions. So yes, he did ask a 17 year old working at Wendy’s where the nearest liquor store was. She was only too happy to oblige and we had a liter of Gentleman Jack for ourselves should we get further delayed. That might have been the classiest thing I’ve ever witnessed. I saw him ask the girl and had to ask him, “Did you just ask a teenager girl where to find a liquor store?” I’m surprised Chris Hansen didn’t show up out of the Wendy’s bathroom.
We finally arrived in upstate New York around 11 and with no idea where we were going. Thank God Stan had had one of those GPS navigators because if not, we would have ended up in a cow farm. We showed up at this bar where everyone went after the reception dinner. It was here that something happened that only happens when you hang out with me. Since I haven’t seen Doh Boy in like 3 months, it made sense that I completely ignored him upon walking in to focus on CNN and ESPN on the tv’s because someone at the bar had said the magic words: “Did you see what it said about Pacman Jones? They found him dead.” I was immediately transfixed on this and realized that I didn’t want the moment I wanted to hear Pacman Jones was dead was in a rural bar (I was surprised that I had a subconscious desire of where to hear this). Eventually, I determined that someone had misinterpreted Pacman Jones’s statement “Pacman is dead” in his press conference saying he wanted to go by Adam (which he will not be called in this blog). Oh, and when I did talk to Doh Boy, he informed me he was quitting his job and moving to Angola. Yes, the Angola in Africa. The one that Charles Barkley elbowed in the chest during the 92 Olympics. You can’t get more random than that. Compared to that, following Pacman seems normal.
By the time I had gathered myself after figuring Pacman out, everyone was heading out. Luckily we still had the Gentlemen Jack and a 12 pack of Yuengling that we had picked up upon entering New York (Me and Stan Man are like the Boy Scouts of drinking, always prepared). We went to the house we were staying in with three other people. It was pretty random: a weird chick, a gay guy, and the coup d’resistance, a guy from either Kurdistan or Kazakhstan, some former part of the Soviet Union that is now a –stan. We immediately hit it off with the Crazy Russian, which he was referred to the rest of the weekend, because of our copious amounts of alcohol. Before going to bed (read: passing out) we finished what we had brought.
Saturday was the wedding day, but also the day of a soccer match between the Netherlands and Russia. Since nothing in my life can go according to plan, Stan Man had money on Netherlands winning Euro 2008 and of course the Crazy Russian was the usual crazy European soccer fan. We ended up showing up late to the wedding (with a six pack minimum in each of us), leaving immediately afterwards to go back to the house to watch overtime, and showing up late to the reception (but still with more alcohol in us than any of the other guests). For the record, Russia won 3-1 and the Crazy Russian kept making fun of Stan Man in his broken English, which highly entertained me.
As for the wedding, I think I hit either a high or low note in my life when I was seated at the table with Middle Schoolers. Within 20 minutes of talking to me, they had their first taste of alcohol in their lives. That seems about right. (In all honestly, I had nothing to do with it directly. The caterers had filled their glasses, the best man gave a toast, and they just wanted to fit in. And one goes to the other, “Well that was my first taste of alcohol.” It just seems appropriate though that they did it with no inhibitions after talking to me. Or after talking to me, they had no desire to continue drinking. One or the other. I’m like Fox News here, I tell a story, you decide how bad of an alcoholic I am).
There was also very little potential here. The only girl in her 20s was with the gay guy, who was protecting her like a hawk for some reason. Probably because the only guys in their 20s were me and Stan Man. It got to the point where the second best option I had was Doh Boy’s (who is 38) older sister. I wisely passed on that. We went back to the house and me and the Crazy Russian talked about American policy for 2 hours. I’d like the record to show that I out drank the guy who wouldn’t shut up about how at Russian weddings everyone gets a liter of vodka (said exactly how you would expect a Russian to say “a liter of vodka”) a day. He quit and went to bed before me, so I win. I love how I’m becoming a competitive alcoholic. This should bode well for me in the future.
Upon waking up Sunday morning, Stan Man decided that yes, he did want to go to Niagara Falls (2 hours out of our way) because, “I will never be back in Upstate New York ever again and if I do, I’ll be in a body bag, so this is my one chance to visit it.” Whatever, he was driving and I’ve agreed to things with less logic than that, so we were off. We saw the water for 5 minutes, then went got lunch and headed home. Being that I was involved in this traveling, it would not end well. We ended up on the Pennsylvania Turnpike getting a flat tire. Stan Man was so paranoid that we would end up dying or getting arrested this weekend that his first reaction when this happened was that the police had sent a helicopter to come get us. And of course, this happened in the middle of nowhere PA, 20 miles from the nearest exit and with a storm rolling in. Luckily, we got the flat changed without dying. We ended up getting home around 2 am Sunday night. 8 am, my phone starts ringing for work, when I have clearly told people I’m off. So for the record, I took 2 days off and ended up working 8 hours between them.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Top 7 Boss Edition - Pt 2
Since I can’t think of anything else to talk about being that I have no life outside of work lately, we’ll go back to a Top 7 – Boss Edition. Now that I have two months or so under my belt, let’s revisit more reasons I should not be allowed to be in charge of people.
7. My slang. Sometimes I forget I’m not in a Young Jeezy video and yes, I did use the phrase “Half a Mil” to describe revenue we were waiting on to a corporate exec. On the plus side, I did not use the phrase, “stacks” or “paper”. That might have confused a whole bunch of people. Our contract is also scheduled to be re-competed in September. I’ve casually referred to this as “The Re-Up.” Apparently we don’t have a lot of Clipse fans in our office.
6. I’ve brought my luck along for the ride with me. Since I’ve taken over, every system we have has crashed at least once. Some for the first time ever. One went down for 2 days and I had to completely redesigned its configuration so it would work. I’ve also had my two best resources resign. One time in my life I would not like to walk into a situation and have it not blow up immediately.
5. I’m considering brining someone on to the project who’s a Penn State grad who dresses in what is best described as an unprofessional manner. The one time I met her was at a conference where she looked like she’s going out to a club and looking to attract as much attention as possible. Anyway, I’m justifying this in my mind by telling myself, “Even if she’s not any good at her job, I can always think, ‘Fuck the state pen, Fuck hoes at Penn State’”, and that will put a smile on my face. Any chance I have to incorporate Biggie lyrics into personnel decisions, I will do that. If I ever get a chance to interview someone named Jermaine who is dark skinned, he will be hired on the spot.
4. Our system now has new password requirements. One of them is that a special character is needed. Of course, I selected “$”. It also has to have a certain amount of characters. So one is straightCA$H and the other is CA$Hmoney. Randy Moss and Birdman would be proud. When I have to change it again, I will incorporate Johnny Ca$h in at some point. This screams professionalism.
3. I’ve called one of my employees, “Not just retarded, but circus retarded.” I don’t even know what that means, but that’s the effect of working for Frank from the Rec for 6 years. Sensitivity training might be in my future. If you’ve read some of the allegations in the NASCAR harassment suit, none of those phased me at all from working with Frank. I think they stole some of his lines.
2. I make management decisions by asking, “What would Jordan do?” For example, we’ve recently found out that new college hires are making outlandishly high salaries compared to what we came in at. I wondered how MJ would handle it, and I got my answer: Take it out on the entire nation of Croatia. Allow me to explain. Jordan and Pippen were upset with Bulls management that they were so high on Toni Kukoc and the salary they were given. So when Jordan played Croatia, led by Toni, in the Olympics in 1992, he saved all his energy for Croatia. To the point that he told Chuck Daly that he didn’t care if he sat the bench for entire games, as long as he got a lot of PT against Croatia. So if in the course of the next few months I start asking new hires, “Oh, you’re having problems with this? Well, I’m not helping you. You’re paid enough, so that must mean you’re smart enough to figure it out by yourself,” you’ll know why.
1. This is what my boss told me when I told him I was going out to the bar to watch the Finals. “You gonna get ripped tonight? I’ve seen you when you get loaded. That’s the only time you talk. I’m gonna have you give a presentation to our service area and make sure you have a few in you before you go on.” I have to be the only manager who’s alcoholism is not severe enough. Apparently having a procedure for vomiting at work isn’t enough. Oh well, guess its time to start going out for lunch beers.
7. My slang. Sometimes I forget I’m not in a Young Jeezy video and yes, I did use the phrase “Half a Mil” to describe revenue we were waiting on to a corporate exec. On the plus side, I did not use the phrase, “stacks” or “paper”. That might have confused a whole bunch of people. Our contract is also scheduled to be re-competed in September. I’ve casually referred to this as “The Re-Up.” Apparently we don’t have a lot of Clipse fans in our office.
6. I’ve brought my luck along for the ride with me. Since I’ve taken over, every system we have has crashed at least once. Some for the first time ever. One went down for 2 days and I had to completely redesigned its configuration so it would work. I’ve also had my two best resources resign. One time in my life I would not like to walk into a situation and have it not blow up immediately.
5. I’m considering brining someone on to the project who’s a Penn State grad who dresses in what is best described as an unprofessional manner. The one time I met her was at a conference where she looked like she’s going out to a club and looking to attract as much attention as possible. Anyway, I’m justifying this in my mind by telling myself, “Even if she’s not any good at her job, I can always think, ‘Fuck the state pen, Fuck hoes at Penn State’”, and that will put a smile on my face. Any chance I have to incorporate Biggie lyrics into personnel decisions, I will do that. If I ever get a chance to interview someone named Jermaine who is dark skinned, he will be hired on the spot.
4. Our system now has new password requirements. One of them is that a special character is needed. Of course, I selected “$”. It also has to have a certain amount of characters. So one is straightCA$H and the other is CA$Hmoney. Randy Moss and Birdman would be proud. When I have to change it again, I will incorporate Johnny Ca$h in at some point. This screams professionalism.
3. I’ve called one of my employees, “Not just retarded, but circus retarded.” I don’t even know what that means, but that’s the effect of working for Frank from the Rec for 6 years. Sensitivity training might be in my future. If you’ve read some of the allegations in the NASCAR harassment suit, none of those phased me at all from working with Frank. I think they stole some of his lines.
2. I make management decisions by asking, “What would Jordan do?” For example, we’ve recently found out that new college hires are making outlandishly high salaries compared to what we came in at. I wondered how MJ would handle it, and I got my answer: Take it out on the entire nation of Croatia. Allow me to explain. Jordan and Pippen were upset with Bulls management that they were so high on Toni Kukoc and the salary they were given. So when Jordan played Croatia, led by Toni, in the Olympics in 1992, he saved all his energy for Croatia. To the point that he told Chuck Daly that he didn’t care if he sat the bench for entire games, as long as he got a lot of PT against Croatia. So if in the course of the next few months I start asking new hires, “Oh, you’re having problems with this? Well, I’m not helping you. You’re paid enough, so that must mean you’re smart enough to figure it out by yourself,” you’ll know why.
1. This is what my boss told me when I told him I was going out to the bar to watch the Finals. “You gonna get ripped tonight? I’ve seen you when you get loaded. That’s the only time you talk. I’m gonna have you give a presentation to our service area and make sure you have a few in you before you go on.” I have to be the only manager who’s alcoholism is not severe enough. Apparently having a procedure for vomiting at work isn’t enough. Oh well, guess its time to start going out for lunch beers.
Final Thoughts
Get it? Final thoughts on…the Finals? That’s why they call me the Wizard of Word Play. I figure if I keep telling people someone other people gave it to me, they’ll eventually believe it, kind of like how Sasha Vujacic somehow became, “The Machine.” It wasn’t for his ability to contain his emotion, I’ll tell you that.
Am I glad I never got around to writing an episode that said Kobe could be in the same sentence as Jordan if the Lake Show won? In the words of the old Bud Light commercial, “Yes I am.” I promise, that will never get brought up again.
I’m glad KG got his ring. He’s busted his ass for too many years; he deserves it.
Pao Gasol, you’re doing wonders for the soft European stereotype.
Best nickname for KG’s game 5 no show goes to Peter Vescey (who else) who dubbed him The Counterfeit Ticket. Worst nickname was the fact that the phrase The Big Clickit even entered my brain. Jokes based on seat belt public service ads are horrible. Just horrible (channeling my inner Bill Walton).
I’m not trying to diss The Truth, but is it wrong that I thought Paul Pierce could be a believable fill in for Ashy Larry with enough baby powder? Brock kept bringing up his facial hair, I’m going to go with his doughy body. It’s no knock on his game though. He’s a Hall of Famer in my book.
Speaking of The Truth, did his injury in Game 1 remind anyone of a certain center who liked to use his name in the 3rd person in order to motivate himself? The only difference is that Pierce was back in 10 minutes, that center would be out 10 weeks. And would call everyone’s heart out while sitting on the bench. But the complete over reaction did bring back memories. And once again, I have to note that I’m not knocking Paul Pierce. He’s one of the few players who I can honestly say, “I’m not sure I could have played through what he played through.” Getting stabbed 11 times? But then again, I would have never gotten stabbed because robbers don’t stick up IT consultants for their money.
You know what this Celtics championship means? More teams will look for quick fixes. NBA GM’s will now say, “Hmm..the Celtics made a few trades and went from 23 wins to a championship. We might be 2 moves away.” And you know what that means? More stupid trades that I can make fun of. Thank you Danny Ainge for making my job easier. At the very least, I can look forward to getting random text messages for trade rumors.
One week to the Draft and I’m horribly prepared. One thing I do know is the more I hear about Michael Beasley, the less I would want to take him if I’m Chicago.
This is the type of in depth analysis you expect from The Barney Show.
Am I glad I never got around to writing an episode that said Kobe could be in the same sentence as Jordan if the Lake Show won? In the words of the old Bud Light commercial, “Yes I am.” I promise, that will never get brought up again.
I’m glad KG got his ring. He’s busted his ass for too many years; he deserves it.
Pao Gasol, you’re doing wonders for the soft European stereotype.
Best nickname for KG’s game 5 no show goes to Peter Vescey (who else) who dubbed him The Counterfeit Ticket. Worst nickname was the fact that the phrase The Big Clickit even entered my brain. Jokes based on seat belt public service ads are horrible. Just horrible (channeling my inner Bill Walton).
I’m not trying to diss The Truth, but is it wrong that I thought Paul Pierce could be a believable fill in for Ashy Larry with enough baby powder? Brock kept bringing up his facial hair, I’m going to go with his doughy body. It’s no knock on his game though. He’s a Hall of Famer in my book.
Speaking of The Truth, did his injury in Game 1 remind anyone of a certain center who liked to use his name in the 3rd person in order to motivate himself? The only difference is that Pierce was back in 10 minutes, that center would be out 10 weeks. And would call everyone’s heart out while sitting on the bench. But the complete over reaction did bring back memories. And once again, I have to note that I’m not knocking Paul Pierce. He’s one of the few players who I can honestly say, “I’m not sure I could have played through what he played through.” Getting stabbed 11 times? But then again, I would have never gotten stabbed because robbers don’t stick up IT consultants for their money.
You know what this Celtics championship means? More teams will look for quick fixes. NBA GM’s will now say, “Hmm..the Celtics made a few trades and went from 23 wins to a championship. We might be 2 moves away.” And you know what that means? More stupid trades that I can make fun of. Thank you Danny Ainge for making my job easier. At the very least, I can look forward to getting random text messages for trade rumors.
One week to the Draft and I’m horribly prepared. One thing I do know is the more I hear about Michael Beasley, the less I would want to take him if I’m Chicago.
This is the type of in depth analysis you expect from The Barney Show.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Texas Toast
The Barney Show is proud to present a special Father’s Day edition of Texas Toast. This episode will continue with the quotes format, but this time these quotes will be exclusively from Lil’ Wayne’s The Carter III. His album came out this week and if you had told me in 2000 that he would have the most anticipated album in 2008 and be at least discussed in the hottest rappers in the game, I would have called shenanigans. Similarly, if you had told me in 2000 that I’d be spending Father’s Day 2008 with my 2 year old, I’d probably have a similar reaction. This Texas Toast version will be shorter than normal, because this was a short trip. I left my house at 4:30 Saturday morning and will return home at 11 on Sunday. About half that time will be spent traveling. Half of the rest of the time, sleeping. So this won’t have the normal amounts of culture shock. Let’s get started. All quotes come from The Carter III unless otherwise noted.
“Dear Mr. Carter, I am him, How you been? I’ve been around the world and I’m back again.”
Just substitute Barney for Mr. Carter and I feel the same way. I haven’t been doing much work here on the Barney Show, but I’m back to my natural element: writing ill prepared mockeries of East Texas.
“True that swallow, And I be the shhhh, Now you got loose bowels, I don't owe you like two vowels.”
It wouldn’t’ be a Texas Toast episode without some sort of bad luck happening on the trip. This time, as I got on my flight in Charlotte to go to Dallas, we were delayed because of weather and the flight would have to make route changes to avoid this. While they were doing that, a passenger took a dump and got it all over the bathroom. We had to wait an extra 20-30 minutes while cleaning crews were called. Oh, and I was sitting right next to the bathroom.
“I’m ok, but my watch is sick, my rocks is sick, my drop is sick.”
It also would be a trip to Texas without either me or my daughter getting sick. This time it was her. She had a Staph infection on her arm and leg. She was on antibiotics. Apparently, staph is a natural bacteria that is on all our bodies, but this particular type had a bad effect and it caused an infection. This is not to be confused with a Steph infection, which is the nasty feeling you get after hooking up with a maxed out NBA player in the back of a truck in order to get a promotion.
Knick jokes aside, this meant she couldn’t go swimming, which is the one thing I was most looking forward to doing with her.
“We are not the same, I am a Martian.”
My daughter is starting to talk well enough that you can actually engage in conversations with her. This is good. Occasionally though, she’ll say something and you’ll be thinking, “What the fuck?” and just nod your head at her. When Wayne made an entire song around this quote, I had the same reaction. But I was able to blame this on the thought that Weezy was probably as high as a spaceship when he wrote this.
“'Cause you can get through anything if Magic made it, And that was called recycling Re: reciting something, 'Cause you just like it so you say it just like it, Some say it's biting but I say it's enlightening, Besides Dr. Kanye West is one of the brightest.”
Just in case anyone got any bright ideas that I’m talented or something, I just wanted to use a Wayne quote to let people know that I am clearly jacking this format from Sports Guy.
“Lil’ Wayne on these hoes, aka Mr. Make it Rain on them Hoes.”
Can I get off topic for a bit and say how excited I am for the Dallas Cowboys season to begin. First, their quarterback has been on the cover of Us Weekly more than Sports Illustrated. Their star wide receiver made a guest appearance on Flava Flav’s sitcom. They have the only coach coming off having the second best record in the league in his first season that doesn’t have job security. And then they signed Pacman. I nearly forgot that Tank Johnson was in the mix. It’s almost like Jerry Jones is saying, “Hmm…who else can I sign to make this team more Barneyrific?” Also, I’d like to note that if not hearing this Wayne song with T Pain as a single in a month, I’m going to be pissed.
Does anyone else do a song about making it rain as well as T Pain? It’s like he was born to sing about strippers (and wear top hats while doing it). He’s also sang about being in love with a bartender. He’s living the dream. Getting lap dances and drinks for free. I’d say he’s my idol but white people can’t pull off top hats without coming off looking like the Monopoly man.
“It’s Weezy Baby, please say the Baby.”
I think my favorite part about the album is the cover. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a baby (I’m assuming Wayne’s baby picture), with Wayne’s face tats. My daughter was playing around in the rental and saw the album. Which led to this exchange:
D: “Baby?
”B: “Very good. That is a baby.”
D: “What’s on face daddy?”
B: “Ummm….”
They don’t teach you how to handle face tats in Parenting 101, I’ll tell you that.
“Now if ye ain't help me make it, don't tell me how to spend it. And yes I know the rules, never marry Robin Givens.”
So this really was not the most fiscally responsible trip I’ve ever taken. I spent $575 on just the plane ticket. I justified this by saying, “I just got my government incentive check. I didn’t do anything for this money, so I might as well spend it on something good. And the airline industry could use the business. I’ll use this incentive to help the economy.” I’m disappointed in myself for being so patriotic. Because when I first heard about these government issued checks, I was a proponent of spending them Pacman Jones style and spending them on extravagant strippers. Well, I guess I still haven’t paid the credit card bill for this trip, so there’s still time. (Note, this wasn’t from The Carter III, it was from Wayne’s guest on Bun B’s new album. In case, you know, you actually gave a shit.)
“Go further, go farther, go harder, that’s why were here right? If not, why bother.”
The best line of the album comes from Hov himself. This quote goes to my baby mama who couldn’t even remember to bring my Father’s Day card. I’m trying to go hard here and make an attempt to be a good dad by paying an arm and a leg for a 21 hour visit and you can’t make a decent attempt.
“L-L-L-L-L-Like a lollipop.”
This is in no way the same as how Weezy intended it. My daughter just really wanted a popsicle so we had to make a trip to Wal Mart. I know you were so wondering how I’d fit that song in. And for the record, she did not lick the wrapper.
“Man you better keep paying me, 'cause you don't want my problems, I be wildin like Capital One “What is in your wallet?”
My favorite Wayne line of the album goes to my favorite moment of the trip: when I almost cold cocked my daughter. Let me explain. My daughter when sleeping has no regard for anyone else. She will take over half the bed despite weighing 28 pounds. And she will kick and punch you. I was having a dream in which I was engaged in a shoot out with terrorists in Chinatown (no, I have no idea why I was dreaming this either). My daughter chose this time to give me a flying flip kick to my side. In my heightened sense of alertness, I pulled back to punch the offending terrorist. But before I let it fly, I woke up briefly enough to realize my daughter was next to me. So tragedy was averted.
“Please don't shoot me down, Cuz I'm flyin, I'm flyin, I'm higherrrrr.”
Actually, on the flight home I wanted our plane to be shot down. I had to sit behind two 12 & 14 year old douches. One of them brought a skateboard on the plane. You know, just in case they had a half pipe in there. And they couldn’t stop rocking their chairs and touching each other. Most egregious was the fact that one of them wore a Red Sox hat. The stewardess asked if he was a Boston fan to make conversation and to keep them from playing grab ass and he didn’t understand what she was talking about. Can we go back to the time when being a Red Sox fan meant dealing with pain and suffering?
“See y'all are at ground, and my daughter is my sky, I swear I look in her face and I just want to break out and fly”
Wow, if in 2008 you tell me Weezy Baby, please say the Baby, would be summarizing my feelings I probably not just called shenanigans, but laughed at you. Oh well, that’s why I paid approximately $35/hr for a visit.
Sorry this was so short, but the trip itself was short.
“Dear Mr. Carter, I am him, How you been? I’ve been around the world and I’m back again.”
Just substitute Barney for Mr. Carter and I feel the same way. I haven’t been doing much work here on the Barney Show, but I’m back to my natural element: writing ill prepared mockeries of East Texas.
“True that swallow, And I be the shhhh, Now you got loose bowels, I don't owe you like two vowels.”
It wouldn’t’ be a Texas Toast episode without some sort of bad luck happening on the trip. This time, as I got on my flight in Charlotte to go to Dallas, we were delayed because of weather and the flight would have to make route changes to avoid this. While they were doing that, a passenger took a dump and got it all over the bathroom. We had to wait an extra 20-30 minutes while cleaning crews were called. Oh, and I was sitting right next to the bathroom.
“I’m ok, but my watch is sick, my rocks is sick, my drop is sick.”
It also would be a trip to Texas without either me or my daughter getting sick. This time it was her. She had a Staph infection on her arm and leg. She was on antibiotics. Apparently, staph is a natural bacteria that is on all our bodies, but this particular type had a bad effect and it caused an infection. This is not to be confused with a Steph infection, which is the nasty feeling you get after hooking up with a maxed out NBA player in the back of a truck in order to get a promotion.
Knick jokes aside, this meant she couldn’t go swimming, which is the one thing I was most looking forward to doing with her.
“We are not the same, I am a Martian.”
My daughter is starting to talk well enough that you can actually engage in conversations with her. This is good. Occasionally though, she’ll say something and you’ll be thinking, “What the fuck?” and just nod your head at her. When Wayne made an entire song around this quote, I had the same reaction. But I was able to blame this on the thought that Weezy was probably as high as a spaceship when he wrote this.
“'Cause you can get through anything if Magic made it, And that was called recycling Re: reciting something, 'Cause you just like it so you say it just like it, Some say it's biting but I say it's enlightening, Besides Dr. Kanye West is one of the brightest.”
Just in case anyone got any bright ideas that I’m talented or something, I just wanted to use a Wayne quote to let people know that I am clearly jacking this format from Sports Guy.
“Lil’ Wayne on these hoes, aka Mr. Make it Rain on them Hoes.”
Can I get off topic for a bit and say how excited I am for the Dallas Cowboys season to begin. First, their quarterback has been on the cover of Us Weekly more than Sports Illustrated. Their star wide receiver made a guest appearance on Flava Flav’s sitcom. They have the only coach coming off having the second best record in the league in his first season that doesn’t have job security. And then they signed Pacman. I nearly forgot that Tank Johnson was in the mix. It’s almost like Jerry Jones is saying, “Hmm…who else can I sign to make this team more Barneyrific?” Also, I’d like to note that if not hearing this Wayne song with T Pain as a single in a month, I’m going to be pissed.
Does anyone else do a song about making it rain as well as T Pain? It’s like he was born to sing about strippers (and wear top hats while doing it). He’s also sang about being in love with a bartender. He’s living the dream. Getting lap dances and drinks for free. I’d say he’s my idol but white people can’t pull off top hats without coming off looking like the Monopoly man.
“It’s Weezy Baby, please say the Baby.”
I think my favorite part about the album is the cover. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a baby (I’m assuming Wayne’s baby picture), with Wayne’s face tats. My daughter was playing around in the rental and saw the album. Which led to this exchange:
D: “Baby?
”B: “Very good. That is a baby.”
D: “What’s on face daddy?”
B: “Ummm….”
They don’t teach you how to handle face tats in Parenting 101, I’ll tell you that.
“Now if ye ain't help me make it, don't tell me how to spend it. And yes I know the rules, never marry Robin Givens.”
So this really was not the most fiscally responsible trip I’ve ever taken. I spent $575 on just the plane ticket. I justified this by saying, “I just got my government incentive check. I didn’t do anything for this money, so I might as well spend it on something good. And the airline industry could use the business. I’ll use this incentive to help the economy.” I’m disappointed in myself for being so patriotic. Because when I first heard about these government issued checks, I was a proponent of spending them Pacman Jones style and spending them on extravagant strippers. Well, I guess I still haven’t paid the credit card bill for this trip, so there’s still time. (Note, this wasn’t from The Carter III, it was from Wayne’s guest on Bun B’s new album. In case, you know, you actually gave a shit.)
“Go further, go farther, go harder, that’s why were here right? If not, why bother.”
The best line of the album comes from Hov himself. This quote goes to my baby mama who couldn’t even remember to bring my Father’s Day card. I’m trying to go hard here and make an attempt to be a good dad by paying an arm and a leg for a 21 hour visit and you can’t make a decent attempt.
“L-L-L-L-L-Like a lollipop.”
This is in no way the same as how Weezy intended it. My daughter just really wanted a popsicle so we had to make a trip to Wal Mart. I know you were so wondering how I’d fit that song in. And for the record, she did not lick the wrapper.
“Man you better keep paying me, 'cause you don't want my problems, I be wildin like Capital One “What is in your wallet?”
My favorite Wayne line of the album goes to my favorite moment of the trip: when I almost cold cocked my daughter. Let me explain. My daughter when sleeping has no regard for anyone else. She will take over half the bed despite weighing 28 pounds. And she will kick and punch you. I was having a dream in which I was engaged in a shoot out with terrorists in Chinatown (no, I have no idea why I was dreaming this either). My daughter chose this time to give me a flying flip kick to my side. In my heightened sense of alertness, I pulled back to punch the offending terrorist. But before I let it fly, I woke up briefly enough to realize my daughter was next to me. So tragedy was averted.
“Please don't shoot me down, Cuz I'm flyin, I'm flyin, I'm higherrrrr.”
Actually, on the flight home I wanted our plane to be shot down. I had to sit behind two 12 & 14 year old douches. One of them brought a skateboard on the plane. You know, just in case they had a half pipe in there. And they couldn’t stop rocking their chairs and touching each other. Most egregious was the fact that one of them wore a Red Sox hat. The stewardess asked if he was a Boston fan to make conversation and to keep them from playing grab ass and he didn’t understand what she was talking about. Can we go back to the time when being a Red Sox fan meant dealing with pain and suffering?
“See y'all are at ground, and my daughter is my sky, I swear I look in her face and I just want to break out and fly”
Wow, if in 2008 you tell me Weezy Baby, please say the Baby, would be summarizing my feelings I probably not just called shenanigans, but laughed at you. Oh well, that’s why I paid approximately $35/hr for a visit.
Sorry this was so short, but the trip itself was short.
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