Grab Two of Everything

It's pouring like mad outside and now the power just went out...Amen to laptops and wireless internet.

Sorry about the delay in posting, mostly I've been lazy and everytime I've sat down to write I end up migrating over to YouTube to watch Scrubs clips or something like that.

Anyways, two weekends ago Pat and I trekked across the border to watch the Tigers play and it turned into a pregame pub crawl/post game tire changing. We hit up Cheli's Chili and then the State Bar before the game for 7 dollar pitchers. Not bad considering you could mortgage your house for the cost of a beer at the ballgame. P.S. Chili on a hot day is not a good idea.
I'm not sure if it was the beer or Tiger's fever that caused Pat to fill out a credit card application for a T-shirt. We're not sure he even put down the right Social Security # so it looks like he made off with the shirt scott free...

Leaving the game we noticed the car riding low in the parking lot and sure enough we had a flat. For those of you who haven't been to Detroit, it's not a great city to get a flat in...even worse at 11:30 at night. Apparently the only concerned citizens were ones who thought we were stealing hubcaps...I think they even offered to get someone to help us steal them, it's that kind of city.

Last weekend I got bored and headed to T-dot to visit Jo and Blakie. I got into town pretty late Saturday thanks to some pretty bad traffic. We ended up going out to see "Strangers with Candy" which was a ridiculously hilarious movie with probably the most innapropriate jokes ever. I felt bad and good at the same time. We hit up the Sushi Inn after the movie...I was kind of disappointed though; an Inn makes me think I can spend the night eating there, this wasn't the case.
Waking up the next morning we went out for brunch. I realized that going out for brunch is a staple of the twentysomething lifestyle. We're all too lazy to get up in time for breakfast, and too lazy to make it...but we're also too stubborn to miss breakfast. Hence the invetion of brunch, which is essentially a "fuck you" to breakfast time, but not to the food served. I don't know what I'd do without my brunch after a good night of drinking.
On the way home I realized that coffee is a diuretic. For those of you who don't know, diuretic comes from the latin of diu; meaning "having to pee", and retic, meaning "at the worst time possible". My bladder was about to explode and I couldn't see two feet in front of me because of the pouring rain. Thank god for Brantford and it's Tim Horton's at the exit...Of course that meant I just but another coffee...Let the cycle continue!

Reading - "Slaughterhouse Five" by Kurt Vonnegut
Listening To - "The Door" by Turin Brakes

The Walls are Creeping In

One of the unexpected drawbacks to having to come back home from Chicago is the suprising lack of space I now how for my stuff, plus the fact that I can't just leave it wherever I want. Often, after a long hard day of work I would open my door, take off my work pants, and leave them sitting on the floor in the doorway. The pants would then proceed to sit in this exact spot until anyone came to visit. Since this was only about three times in four months those pants were pretty safe, and that spot became their home. They got to know that corner, and nothing else was going to displace them from that spot.

Being back at home gives me a defined space, one that does not exceed the walls of my bedroom. Don't get me wrong, my apartment wasn't huge by any means, but it was a lot bigger than my bedroom, and so I'm starting to run into some problems. I haven't broken the habit of just leaving random crap all over, except now this crap doesn't have its private space, and because of this a crazy battle has begun between the arch rival pants and shorts as they jockey for position wherever they can find it. Socks are hanging off the fan, books are holding up furniture and I'm half expecting to find beer bottles under my pillows tonight.

What this all boils down to is that I've always been messy, it just works so much easier in a bigger place. I really need to clean this place up.....or I could just move out again. That might be easier at this point.

Some more random thoughts:
Why don't more people bake things with alcohol in it? It always seems like a great excuse to fill yourself up with booze in a grandmotherly sort of way. Five year olds everywhere can be getting drunk off rum cake but the world would let it slide because "Hey, it must be safe, it's in pastry form"

My friend Marc has that XM Satellite Radio, and it's pretty cool for lots of reasons. Hundreds of stations, music, sports, talk, news, etc. The only drawback we could find was whenever you wanted to hear a song you liked, which was always, they were rarely playing anything good....and by rarely I mean never.

I tried calling a friend's cell phone and I must have written the number down wrong because when I called it I got a very old, very heavy accented women. Confused, I asked for April and got some sort of answer that I couldn't make out, other than it sounded like "Othello isn't here". This makes me wonder if there is actually someone in Windsor named Othello. If there is, I apologize, I think I woke your grandma dude!

Reading - The Sound and The Fury
Listening To - "Little Sister" by Queens of the Stone Age (I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell)

I might not have the experience, but I'm attractive enough for it

Sometimes when I get bored of Windsor I like to apply for jobs that I'm extremely underqualified for, in a country far far away. This past weekend I applied for a job with a professional rugby team in Ireland. Will I get it? Probably not. Running through the requirements we see:

1) Minimum of 3 to 5 years post-graduate experience (nope!)
2) Post Graduate certification in sports and/or musculoskeletal physiotherapy (definitely not)
3) Chartered Physiotherapist in Ireland (not even close)

I figure we will soon be celebrating my hiring as the new team physiotherapist so plan your schedules accordingly

Something else I've been thinking about this weekend:

If you are a singer/band and your song ends up on any volume of "Now That's What I Call Music", you've hit an all new low. With the song "S.O.S" and "Saving Me", it's clear the theme is saving people from this pure crap.

Reading: The Sound and The Fury (I'm reading slowly)
Listening To: "To The Widows in Paradise, To The Fatherless in Ypsilanti" by Sufjan Stevens

I bet you can't do it...

As I wind down this holiday weekend I can't help but think...why did I eat the whole thing?? My friend Marc and I decided to make our way to Spicoli's for a pitcher of beer and 2 for 1 panzerotti's. You know you're getting full when you start talking to the panzerotti, telling it how it can't win out over your hunger. So I sit here now, ready for the world's longest nap.

The weekend was a good one all in all. My brother, a friend from across the street and myself went downtown Saturday on a mini pub crawl. At least once a summer I go downtown and realize how many eleven-teen year olds god down there. This could be why I'm pretty particular about the downtown "scene".

We also had a rugby game over in Detroit on Saturday. For those of you who know the Metro Detroit area, or are familiar with the work of a certain white rapper named Eminem, the game was at a park on 8 Mile Road. At one point I think I hear fireworks, but then again in that neighbourhood you get down when you hear a "pop pop". Also, no matter how good an idea you think it is, do not ask a guy with a telescopic camera on a tripod: "Have you seen those new digital cameras? I hear they're really getting popular". Trust me, he won't laugh

Another observation from the weekend. If a place says it has the best coffee/pizza/burger in the city/world/solar system they're either lieing or bragging...I don't like liars or braggers.

Reading - The Sound and The Fury
Listening to - "Hideaway" by Rock Kills Kid