Baylor Homcoming 2005 Review

Joanna & I went back to Waco for Homecoming this past weekend. This is my second year as an alumni and I can say that college life continues without me. Before I start slow piano music and begin to open up about how old I felt - let me give you a quick review.

I have a new invention. I call it ConVo. It is sorta like TiVo but revolutionary. I think it could honestly change the way intelligent people approach life.

ConVo is a way to see life in on-demand. ConVo is a way to enjoy certain parts of your day and eliminate useless conversation at akward social events like Baylor Homecoming.

I probably made contact with 250 people over the course of two days in Waco. I saw people I hadn't seen since I was a freshman in 1999. I saw people I tried to avoid while at Baylor. I saw people who I thought I would make an attempt to keep up with - and didn't.

I don't think its a stretch to assume that of the 250 people I made contact with over the weekend - I cared to see less than 10%. I think it was probably around 15 - and that is high balling.

So what's with ConVo - how would it help me?

TiVo allows you to control your telelife by recording television programs you enjoy and watching them at your convenience. This means you can stop, pause or fast forward a program. You can rewind. You can speed through commercials.

By digitally recording the Texas-OU game I was able to watch the game - in its entireity - in about 50 minutes.

Imagine the ease of TiVo applied to life's most punitive social situations... that's ConVo!

I'll give you an example. I was at the Pigksin Revue on Friday night (sidenote - Pigskin is a broadway like show containing 8 fraternities and sororities performing in costumes - not comletely homosexual I promise) when a guy I knew from my undergraduate days made eye contact with me. He lit up with enthusiasm and began to skip in my direction.

Already his fake-dom had beaten me into submission and I hadn't broken a sweat. He approached and gave me a man-hug (back patting included). He then began to ask the usual questions: "Where are you? What are you doing? Hows married life?"

With each penetrating question I sunk lower and lower until my convexed spine was wimpering in pain. First - I am in Dallas. If I wanted you to know I would have made contact with you two years ago and let you know. Second - dont obligitorily ask me what my job is - I dont care for you to know anymore than you earnestly care to. Third - you can see my wife is sitting next to me so obviously we are not divorced and she is still living. What do you think my answer is going to be? Marriage blows? Come on - guy - get a clue!

Now, with ConVo, I could have fast forwarded through all of that nonsense and not had to cause myself acne over it. Thank you sir - you cause blemishes.

ConVo is still in development phases. We anticipate having a prototype in the second quarter of 2006, so keep you eyes open.

**Disclaimer regarding BU Homecoming 2005 Review**

If you saw me this weekend and are reading this now and think - hey, I wonder if he is talking about the conversation we had... do you think he would have like to FF through our special time of reconnecting?

Some things we were not meant to know. Other things are highly likely. I'm joking. But not really.

Tiled Floors and Flabby Bodies

The men's locker room might be one of the most awkward places in the free world.

I work out at the local YMCA every day during lunch. And I sweat. So, as a refresher, I will shower before buttoning up and returning to my office.

The YMCA is a very nice facility - mostly clean - and I enjoy my time working out. It is the before and after I am bound and determine to change... the locker room.

There is no other place in the world you will find men ranging from 20-65 clothing and unclothing themselves at the same time. And believe me - it is not the nakedness that bothers me... wait, I dont want you to think I prefer old men in the nude... or men at all (young or old). Do you see what I mean? This is awfully uncomfortable.

I have some issues with the Men's Locker room I was hoping we could address:

1. Is small talk necessary? It never fails. I am changing - let's say putting on a pair of socks, and some guy walks in the locker room. Instinct makes me look up - eye contact. Dang it! Now I am trapped. In a very non-thought provoking manner he musters, "Weather sure is nice." Am I required to respond to this? Do I need to talk about "weather" or "the game" with this dude who I have never spoken to before?
2. Haven't we moved past the briefs? I guess small talk leads me to being the wardrobe consultant... because as I continue fighting through his babble of jet streams and his shock collar on his dog I notice that he has dropped trow and is standing in front of me in briefs. Nothing more - except the argyle dress socks. Briefs man! Briefs! Yes, Tom Cruise did a wonderful job in Risky Business and made them cool. Yes, at one time I wore them - actually painted the Ultimate Warrior's logo on them. But briefs! It is all I can do to prevent myself from drop-kicking this idiot in the mouth and telling him to go directly to Target for a nice plaid boxer.
3. What about the spray deoderant? I swear to you - it doesn't matter where I am in the locker room - the second someone uses the spray deoderant I get that awful taste in my nose and my mouth. Not necessary! Get the stick and move on!
4. Can we get a ruling on going to and fro the showers? Its bad enough that the showers are crawling with every type of eczema there is - but the trip - the actual walk to and from is really awkward. I dont want to be the guy who throws the towel over my shoulder and jaunts toward the showers. I dont want to be the guy who wears his boxers under his towel to the showers. Where can I fit in between? I prefer to confidently drop trow next to my locker (as a show of masculinity) and then cover myself adequately with my towel (in respect to those around me) to the effect that hands are not needed to hold the towel up (again - confidence).

These four things plague my corporate life almost every day. It's almost sickening to tell you the truth. And yes, I have thought to myself, "Why am I analyzing this so much?" Because I dont want to be the guy who over exposing his "welcome" (largely considered gay - not gay-gay, but gay) and I dont want to be the guy who squirrels in and out, unsure of his place.

Either way - you lose.

Okay - time to go work out.

Potty Humor

I have to confess - I love the handicap stall. It's like having your own little room within a room.

Think about it - you get side bars, a separate sink, ample leg space - what is not to love?

This is where the joy of the story ends...

It was my junior year at Baylor. I was just a knuckle-head on his way home for Thanksgiving - cruising down I-20 trying to get to Sweetwater.

Let me pause... clarification is needed before I continue. Handicap stalls are the caddilac of public restroom amenities. Since being introduced to the professional world (and working in sales where you are out of the office for a good portion of each day) I need to let you in on something that can make your caddilac even better.

When in need of a public restroom - go for a hotel. Not a gas station, truck stop, WalMart (gross) or Wendy's. Head for the Hampton Inn or the nearest Sheraton. Why? Lobbies of nice hotels have very clean and seldom used restrooms.

Think of it this way - if you want to find a caddilac - are you going to go for this beauty?

Thats what the local Flying J has to offer. However, the hotels have brand new caddys just waiting. Okay, back to the story...

I was on my way home when I felt my stomach move. It wasn't really a move - it was one of those gurgles you feel just as much in your throat as in your stomach. I needed to find a "caddilac."

I knew the lay of this road well and a Love's Truck Stop was just ahead. As I moved closer to the exit the gurgling stopped - only because I felt it move south.

DISCLAIMER - Forgive my graphic description... hang in there... it gets better.

I think at that moment I knew what a water balloon felt like just before popping.

By the grace of you know who I managed my way to the truck stop, eased from my Geo Prizm LSI, and waddled through the store to the men's room. As I opened the door I was taken back by a line of men... a line? This is the Men's room! There are no lines in the Men's Room - you take care of it and get out of the way. I felt like the last guy to get in line for the Star Wars premiere... although the two stalls were a mere 10 yards away they appeared 100.

So what do you do? What could I do? I squeezed.

The line budged. One by one the truckers left their mark. Tall ones, short ones, fat ones and fatter ones - they each went ahead and prepared the place.

About 15 minutes later I was face to face with two stall doors. I didn't care which opened. When the handicap door came open and a hispanic man emerged, I was more than pleased.

So I built my bridge. Necessary in ALL public restrooms.

Then - paydirt. Jackpot. Relief. No side bars needed.

Tick tock, tick tock. Phew.

I knew people were waiting, so I went about my business.

Then I heard this noise. It was like a singing... humming... something tense. It sounded forced or irritated. It sounded just outside my door! Was this man trying to signal to me that I had taken my time and should move on? Was he trying to make me leave?

I am not a spiteful person - but I do have a healthy respect for spite. I waited for this stall - I am going to take my time.

The singing grew louder. More tense.

I cleared my throat. Eh - that will shut him up. That will tell him I know he's here.

Louder!

Okay, I was just about ready to share my thoughts. I peered under to see where the guy was... and saw... a wheelchair?

Uh-oh. I am tearing up the handicap stall while a handicap person wait on me.

So I think this - I am bigger than this. I can win this. I do have a decided advantage.

Knowing he is preparing a "So you're the guy in the handicap stall who isn't handicapped" face, I put on my best "I crap where I want to - you can piss off" face and open the door.

Before I can deliver my face he delivers a bigger blow - he rams me in the shins with his chair!

That bloody muppet! The pain! Shin-shot by a guy in a wheel chair! I folded like Nancy Kerigan and stumbled to the sink as he went into the stall.

Moral of the story - there's not one. I still use the handicap stall - still prefer it. Just make sure to turn up your spidey-sense.

Concert Woes & Saturday musings

Its been a week removed since I went to watch Coldplay at Smirnoff Music Centre. It was the first concert I had been to in 3-4 years - the last being a Counting Crows performance in Austin while I was in college.

I love music. I would venture to say that at all times I have some song in my head. More than likely I am singing, whistling or humming said song. That being said... I dont know how to act at concerts.

A co worker and friend of mine attended the concert last week as well. He is a Michigander and very in touch with rope sandals, camping, outdoors and the like. We briefly reviewed the concert post haste - but wanted to wait until it had given us time to digest our evenings. This past Monday Lumburg, the co-worker I mentioned, approached me and delivered, "I dont know that the crowd reciprocated the energy that the guys put forth."

I had to let this marinate - you see I am a music lover but not a concert frequenter.

So I began to review the concert in my mind within the spectrum of Lumburg's claim. Again - I dont know how I should act at a concert. Now if I were at a rap concert (or hip-hop, etc) I would feel the beat and bob my head to an angle, delivering the lines as I knew them. If I were at a country music concert (signifying the end times) I would two-step, line dance, or tip my hat as the evening called for. But what do you do at a Rock/Alternative concert? Coldplay's music is methodical and not overly "rock" although most would put them in that category.

Bear in mind that I specifically remember being in this predicament at the show. I evaluated my options and came to a couple of possibilites:

1) I could ask my concert neighbor for a "jibber" and join the circle of wealthy high schoolers in a circle-toke. Probably not the best option...
2) I could dance around like a hippie, arms spread and head cocked, singing as though I wrote the songs. Not really my style...
3) I could stand with my arms crossed, feet tapping. The risk of this is that I look like I am not having a good time...
4) Purchase enough $7 adult beverages to let a lack of inhibitions determine my concertative actions. I was driving...

So I chose number 3. I crossed my arms and stood in a comfortable position - tapped my foot - and sang with the songs. I was sure to not sing so loud that those around me were uncomfortable.

Notice that my actions are opposite that of Lumburg. He did his best woodstock demonstration, and I stiffened up like a chapparone.

Again, back to our review... Lumburg's comments were, in essence, an observation of my actions. My rebuttle was simple - "Maybe the crowd didnt know how to express themselves and didnt want to look like the parents from Dharma and Greg."

He knew that I knew and I knew that he knew - smiling - his added, "What, you mean you thought everyone should stand around with their arms crossed like cigar store indians?"

"No - but that doesnt mean we should have all performed a rain dance either."

This was not a tense confrontation - more of a sparring of spite.

All that being said, I still don't know how to act at a concert.

____________________________________________________________________

On another note - not completely unrelated, please check out He-Man in this little ditty:

http://www.whoomp.com/articles/163/1/He-Man-does-4-non-blondes
____________________________________________________________________

Obscure Star for the Day:

Todd Luiso

Luiso has been in 15 major motion productions - most notable in Jerry Maguire as Chad, the nanny, and Dick in High Fidelity. In both he plays a confused and possibly homo guy with an affinity for music - specifically jazz. Wow, way to avoid typecasting yourself in a completely irrelevant manor.

Congratulations Todd. World O' McCord salutes you.

Pee Shivers

Guys are the only ones who ever come into contact with the pee-shivers - at least, according to my wife. The pee-shiver is by far one of the most enjoyable part of my day. It normally occurs between 1am and 4am - just after I have taken Duncan out to perform his societal duties on the grass.

I guess watching a dog pee in the middle of the night makes my bladder perk up. I normally get back upstairs, blindly walk to the bathroom and allow instinct to direct me to the most porcelain of porcelains. It would probably be a good idea to turn on the lights - but why would I want to do that? That would wake me up and screw up my "sleepiness."

So I hover in and lift the lid - always - and then let, well, you know what happens.

Sometime in the middle of this act I am stirred with a chilling sensation - like little elves poke my sides and pull up the hairs on my neck. My only reaction is to quiver - shake - shiver in an attempt to get the elves off of me.

That, my friends, is the essence of the pee-shiver.

I am through with you for now.

Wow - when I first signed up for this thing I thought I would do this more often. In the words of the great Darius Rucker (of Hootie & The Blowfish fame), "Time, why do you punish me?"

Time has not been on the side of my entries lately. For that - I apologize (but not really). I have been creating demand - making you people want more of me, more of this.

Lots of things have happened since we last shared this same cup - Joanna and I have marked our territory as newlyweds no longer - we celebrated our first anniversary. Duncan has also marked his territory - repeatedly - in multiple areas. Would life be easier if we all just pee'd wherever we want? In some accounts, yes. You could just drop trow and go to work. But then again, isn't it nice to excuse oneself from a particular social situation and urniate... or, excuse oneself to urinate just to excuse oneself, sans urination.

You know - I have many times faked phone calls to avoid talking to people - is that wrong? I think it is a relatively easy way to get away from people that I am through with. Now don't get me wrong - I love people, all people. I just don't like to talk to all people. So I will call my wife and tell her to call me in 6 minutes so that I can get out of whatever it is that I am in. Again, is this wrong? Would it be better for me to say "I am through with you." and end the conversation?

Maybe I could combine the two - for example, tell someone "I am through with you." End the conversation - and then pee on them unexpectantly.

(Insert the sound of unzipping here)

Joanna, Justin & Mickey. Mickey did not hit on Joanna in front of Justin... unlike Soap Opera Ryan from On The Border. 

"You look familiar..."

Well, it took eleven months of marriage to get to this. Eleven months to the day. Finally, after 330+ days of marriage - my wife was hit on in front of me.

Yesterday, Joanna and I decided to go have a little On The Border to celebrate our eleven months of marriage. Nothing big - just a nice dinner with the two of us. We sat down without much of a wait and waited for our server to greet us. A couple of minutes passed... nothing. More minutes... nothing. Finally, Joanna pulled aside a server walking by to ask who our server was. It just so happened that the manager was walking by at the same time and asked Ryan, the server Joanna acknowledged, to take our drink orders. The manager agreed and then Ryan pushed for more. He offered to "pick up this table."

Now for those of you unfamiliar with the lingo used by those in the restaraunt world - Ryan was asking the manager if he could have our table although it was not in his section. This essentially took away a table from another server - therefore taking money (the tip, which at this point was minimal) from another server.

The manager agreed again. I should have saw it then. That would have been the best moment to wipe my mouth, stand up and clock Ryan with the pitcher of water. I didn't. Like I said, I didn't see this coming.

So Ryan took our order. Ryan, by the way, looked like he belonged on a soap opera - not in an OTB staring at my wife. He was tall, well built, good hair, and he had the ever popular soap-opera beard... scruffy enough to see definitive lines... looked like he has a beard trimmer in his back pocket.

Ryan came back soon enough to fill our water and offer more salsa - when he stopped and put his hand on my wife's shoulder.

"You look familiar."

Pause. Awkward level rises a tad - but not too much. He is staring at her - she is looking at me, then at him, then at me. I bury myself in chips.

"What's your name?" He continues.

Okay - name? What's your friggin name? Personal information... it crossed my mind to say "Her name is back hand." Then I would apply said back hand to his face - essentially pimp slapping him.

"Joanna - well it was Joanna Jones." I felt like an eye ball fell out of my face and was rolling off the table - I was so confused. Did my wife just stop in the middle of saying her name - her married name - to say her maiden name? I think she did. I have seen Along Came Polly - and when Ben Stiller's wife leaves him for the guy on their honeymoon - the conversation went about like this!

I gathered myself - "Where do you go to school?" I said to the intruder. Notice I did not ask where you went to school - no, I wanted to try an belittle him as much as possible by establishing that Joanna and I are now out of school and living a very good life TOGETHER, without Ryan the server.

He shifted his eyes to me and answered with whatever it was - I was much more interested in grabbing a light fixture and swinging through like Robin Hood to drop kick him in his perfectly groomed beard than to hear his answer.

Then I noticed he was focused on Joanna again, and she was falling for it. She was throwing out names of church camps - high schools - places they may have met. And then, instead of fighting this d-bag off with a cutting remark - she shrugs her shoulders cutely and says, "Well, I bet it will come to you after we leave. It always happens that way!"

Was she really embracing this?

Ryan chuckled slyly and agreed. I am not sure what happened next because I passed out in the salsa. I woke up to the smells of enchilada sauce not too long after that. I guess anything could have happened - I will have to assume the best. All I know is that when I came to Joanna was there - and she still had her ring on. Phew. Survived, but just barely.

Don't buy the hot dogs...

Yesterday Joanna and I had our first experience with the world of professional racing - and all that implies. Yes, there were sun burnt red necks passed out face down in the grass. Yes, obesity had no regard for clothing size. Yes, there were women who looked like they had man-parts somewhere. Just to encourage you to embrace the world of cars making four lefts - Joanna and I have compiled a list of five tips for you...

TIPS TO SURVIVING A DAY AT THE RACES

1. Wear normal shoes. These venues are huge - and there is alot of walking involved. The last thing you want is to have the guy in the bucket hat in front of you asking you if he could massage your toes because he thinks they are "pretty." The offer if weird enough - but when you get asked and your wife doesn't - things get down right awkward.
2. Ear Plugs. Contrary to popular thought - Target does sell ear plugs. And you WILL need them. These machines are loud. And you will seiously get tired of the phrase "Git er dun."
3. BYOE. Bring your own everything. Drinks are $4 (that is a bottled water - not the $11 margarita). Bring snacks - heck, bring a boar's head sandwich from Kroger because it will beat the shriveled hot link they called a cajun sausage and charged me $5 for.
4. Rent a scanner. If you have to sit for three hours with something on your head or in your ears - it might as well be entertaining. The races almost become solitary confinement - the ear plugs prevent you from having any conversation with anyone except yourself. The scanners rent for $35 (and a $100 deposit) but allow you to tune in to the pit's communicae with the driver. This is not only a way to hear Danica's sultry voice - but also a way to learn the strategies these people use.
5. Embrace it. Most of the people I know wouldn't set foot at TMS unless it were in an all-inclusive suite. If you are going to be amongst the people you should become one of the people. This means standing on the first pass out of a caution - waiving or whooping for a pass - and, if necessary, making out with a blood relative.

Don't get us wrong - Joanna and I loved our experience with the Bombadier LearJet 500. Now I own an IRL (Indy Racing League) cap and our nephew has a sweet pair of checkered flag socks. This is an experience like no other and we respect it as that. We didn't put down payments on his and her choppers or make plans to rent a RV to become a groupie - but we now feel a little more cultured after being there. And that is worth its weight in empty beer cans.

SILENCE!!!

I am back in the saddle after taking some time away from yee old web log (shortened to blog because 'web log' is obviously too long).

Fear not, sweet fans. Cry no more, pardoned critics. Fret not another fret, clean mother-in-law. I did not fall in to the toilet upon my last trip. I did, however, barely escape the clutches of that swirling water. In the words of Yoda, "Dangerous the crapper is."

I have a couple of things that I need to get off of my chest - so sit back - pull up a mug of your beverage of choice - and lets solve world issues.

TO THOSE PEOPLE WHO DO NOT LIKE NAPOLEON DYNAMITE
Baffoonery! Idiocracy! How in the world can anyone not like this movie! Over-hyped you might say? So what. That just means you waited too long to see it. Too quotable? What the #%@? kind of reason is that? Too quotable? A similar argument might sound like this:
{Do you want to try my ice cream? Sure. Yuck! That is not any good! That ice cream is too creamy! How dare you! I will never try ice cream again because you suggested I try ice cream that has too much cream in it.} NEWSFLASH - ice cream is made OF cream. Movies are made OF quotes. Too quoteable? Do us all a favor a pull your bottom lip over your head - now swallow. If you have not seen it - APPLY YOUR EAR MUFFS and do not listen to this... if you have seen it and enjoyed it - stand now, fist in the air, and support me... if you have seen it and didnt like it - listen closely. I am going to give you a secret. I will tell you why Napoleon Dynamite is so genius... it is real. You went to high school with that guy - that one guy - kind of weird... probably played D&D too much (that's Dungeons and Dragons)... probably wore some odd combos not including stylish Girbaud or Lucky jeans.

For my school it was a couple of people. One guy I remember used to pick at his toes during journalism class. He would take off his hiking boots (fake ones - not Dr. Martins) and remove his tube socks to pick his toes. He would have piles of toe nails on his desk. Actions like that yielded the ugly rumor (that I still believe) that this gentle dude - the toe picker - was born without a butthole. It was manually inserted. Yes, this dude was born sanz anus. (sidenote - how do you insert one of those? Power drill?) Another Napoleon from my childhood was always brought to middle school by her creepy parents - the ones with voodoo dolls and skulls hanging from their car. We always assumed that this pale girl - who obviously cut her own hair with a pocket knife - was a witch. Yeah, a real one. I never messed with that girl because, well, she scared me. Still does. Her name make hairs stand.

We are so used to seeing these social outcasts that we forget to root for them. That is the beauty of Napoleon, Deb, Pedro, Kip, Uncle Rico and Rex (of Rex-Kwando). We are forced to root for the social outcasts because we see how bad they are treated. Napoleon is a hero.

Watch this movie again and think about your high school. Think about that guy who you used to ask to come up to your car window so you could turn your wipers on high and spray them. Think about the dude that used to make lists of his friends, or maps of the parking lot. Think about the guy who wore all black all the time. Think about the dude that used to have solos in the band - or most band people. Life isn't about classifying these people as band people or drama people or the in-crowd, the athletes, poop-kickers (cowboys) or potheads - but we do it. We like classifying others and comparing them to us - for whatever reason.

Now slowly peel off your VOTE FOR PEDRO t-shirt and eat your tots - but remember this - if you have to ask some hot babe to the dance - you should build her a cake or something!

DEEPTHROAT IS KIRK DOUGLAS?
Watergate's secret has burst aflood... and now we know who deepthroat is.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/8047258/?GT1=6657

I didnt realize he was such a good actor - http://imdb.com/gallery/granitz/2885/Events/2885/KirkDougla_Pimen_4541520_400.jpg?path=pgallery&path_key=Douglas,%20Kirk%20(I)

OBSCURE HOLLYWOOD STAR FOR TODAY
This is now a recurring part of this whole thing - ring a bell for that.

Today's OHSFT is Bill Byrge. Bill may be known best for his recurring roles in Jim Varney movies... err, Ernest P. Worrel movies. He wasy Bobby... in all of them. He was also the dead guy in the video for Ray Steven's "Sitting Up With the Dead."

Alright - phew. Good talk, Russ. Can't see the line, can you Russ? Russ!

Top Ten Eateries

I love food. All types... all shapes and sizes. I have had the chance to eat some pretty good meals in my short time.

Therefore, I want to share with you the 10 BEST EATERIES I have ever traversed.

10. Beau Jo's - Idaho Springs, CO.
Moutain Pizza. Huge, thick crusted mountain pizza. Beau Jo's serves honey as a condiment for their crust. http://www.beaujos.com/

9. The Jamaican Hut - Houston, TX.
Jerk and curry spices with coconut bread. Dang. Too bad it closed down.

8. Vitek's BBQ - Waco, TX.
So solid. A gut pack and banana pudding and you are set. I tried to take down a large gut pack once... I thought I was going to die.

7. Casa Morales - Sweetwater, TX.
I grew up on beef nachos and clark burritoes from this hole in the wall. The salsa is a little ketchupy - but mix it with the queso and you have gold.

6. George's Restaurant - Waco, TX.
Easily one of the most well rounded hole in the walls I have ever been to. Chicken Fried Steak is king - but I prefer the Chi-queso potato... a doubel baked potato covered in chicken fingers and then drown in spicy queso.
http://www.georgesrestaurant.com/index.html

5. Bob's Steak and Chop House - Plano, TX.
The best steak I have ever had. Also, the huge glazed carrot is ridiculously good.
http://www.bobs-steakandchop.com/

4. Allen's Family Style Meals - Sweetwater, TX.
Family style means HUGE portions and lots of lots of lots of food. You have to respect any eatery cocky enough to only stay open for lunch.

3. Lou Malnati's - Chicago, IL.
Best Pizza in the free world. Straight chicago - deep dish - sauce on top - just amazing. You can buy it online and ship it whereever you are...
http://www.loumalnatis.com/

2. Disney's Club 33 - Anaheim, CA.
In Disney Land's New Orleans Square there is a secret door that leads to a wonderful land of food. Glass elevators - tuxedo clad waiters - mouse shaped pasta - it is not just an urban legend.
http://www.snopes.com/disney/parks/club33.htm

1. Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles - Hollywood, CA.
Soul food. Simple fried chicken... great waffles... sunrise to drink (1/2 OJ and 1/2 lemonade). It is as close to heaven as we will get until Jesus returns.
http://www.roscoeschickenandwaffles.com/

Look at me...
This woman has the weirdest thing going on with her face I have ever seen.
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/popeyes.html

Obscure star for the day... Mark Bringleson. Bringleson played Andy Warhol in Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, but may best be known for his outstanding work as one Officer McCord in the Christian Slater great - Heathers.

peer into the mind of greatness

If you are reading this you might know me. Well, you may not really "know" me - but you have spent enough time around me to know at least trivial things about me. If you have ever spent more than 5 minutes in my presence you have probably heard me say something a little odd - hopefully mildly amusing - but definitely odd.

Here's the deal... I don't try to be funny. I could care less if I am funny. The fact of the matter is - my life is a cartoon. I see life in cartoon fashion. Have you ever seen Who Framed Roger Rabbit? That is like a biography. So if I say something that amuses you it is because you like cartoons - or may have liked cartoons at some point.

I really began thinking about this after watching "Finding Neverland." What a great movie. Johnny Depp was fantastic as James Barrie - the playwrite and author of Peter Pan. He saw things in a different fashion - in his own world. That's me - but its much less mystical and serious. Like I said - I see cartoons... not Japanese anime - no, this is Looney Tunes in its most raw form. Very Wyl E. Coyote. Very Daffy Duck.

Often times I may be in a conversation with one of you - apparently intently listening. Not to bust your bubble - but I am probably watching your lips move - and making that noise that Charlie Brown's teacher would make - "Wha wha, wha wha wha."

So why do I do this? I dont have A.D.D. (never been tested) and I respect almost everyone I talk to - and most people I don't talk to. Well - see if you can follow me... I live in JustinWorld. Everything I see, do, feel, etc. is a reflection of my mind. And, like I said earlier - my mind processing things in cartoons.

So, the next time I am talking to you and agreeing or saying "uh-huh" and "yeah" to provoke your continued speaking... I am really imagining an ACME mallet whistling as it drops from the sky and flattens the top of you head.

(Insert the Luney Toons theme song here)

Tell me something good...

"Tell me something."

"Uh-huh."

"Tell me something."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me something good."

"I don't have anything..."

Is this more than the transcripts from the last conversation I had with my wife? Okay, let's just say that it is 9:22p and she is normally knocked out - comatose - asleep. At this point, even an "I don't have anything..." is more than I was hoping for.

I don't claim to be prophetic - but yesterday I had a conversation with my sister in law around 5:30pm about the Mavs. She was a little dissapointed that I had picked against one of the hottest teams in the league - her team - the Mavs. I told her this - Dallas is hot. They have been one of the hottest teams in the last 18 games of the regular season (18-2 since Avery Johnson took over). However - playoff basketball defines a career. Playoff basketball can elevate certain players. As of Saturday, 04/23, Dirk had yet to push the up button for that elevator. Yao is not a dominant player. He is a soft egg-roll, like one you may have soaked in too much soy sauce. But, the guy is 7'6 - sooner or later he is going to find his way to the basket. He certainly did last night - putting up 17 in the first quarter and 33 for the game. Again - I dont claim to be prophetic - just right.

That being said - I want to introduce you to my new list. This Yao/Dirk/T-Mac/Playoff talk has had me thinking about the best players in the game right now. Who are they? Who are the top ten best NBA'ers in the game as of 04/26/05?

10. Dwayne Wade
9. Jason Kidd
8. Amare Stoudamire
7. Vince Carter
6. Tracy McGrady
5. Shaq
4. LeBron James
3. Kevin Garnett
2. Tim Duncan
1. Allen Iverson

I hate to not have Paul Pierce on this list - mainly because of my man-crush on him. But, alas, I will survive. By the way, watching Pierce put up 17 in the 3rd quarter last night and then the C's not hold the lead really bit me - you have to be a closer come April and post-season time. If you aren't you will find yourself with LeBron wearing Birkenstocks and playing golf (just ask Dirk - he just made a reservation at Pebble Beach for next weekend).

Incase any of you care - Clinton Pickens is going to be performing at the Addison Improv in May. You can check out his schedule and all that crap at www.thesegues.com Clinton is a funny (an odd smelling) guy that I have done some writing with. If you ever meet him I only ask that you akwardly mention his love for leopards and his gummy-bear that he named Blake Hamilton.

If you havn't watched The Office on NBC you need to... check out the employee spotlight of Dwight Schrute: http://www.nbc.com/nbc/The_Office/Dunder_Mifflin/Employee_Spotlight/

Our first attempt at this..

We are officially tech-no-dorks. I have heard that BLOGS are supposed to be like journals for people at Star Wars conventions... kind of an arena for someone to say something to anyone who might listen. So Joanna and I are strapping on our storm trooper helmets and blasters and entering into a wide world of dorkdom... err -blogdom.

The NBA playoffs got underway yesterday. My, what a fine 8 weeks we have in front of us. I think that the change to a seven game series in the first round was an attempt by the powers that be to allow the higher seed to advance. Do you remember when the Nuggets beat the Sonics in the 94-95 season? That easily opened the door for Hakeem the Dream to take the Rockets to the Championship. That Sonics team was sick... Payton, Kemp, Detlef, big Sam Perkins. The higher team should always advance - that is why they are the higher seed. I like that. The league should put as many measures in place to see its higher seeds advance. Yeah, Vince Carter and the NJ Nets are a nice story - squeaking in the playoffs on the last day of regular season play, but are the playoffs anything special this year without the Shaq lead Heat?

That being said, here are my picks for the NBA playoffs - Round 1

WEST
Phoenix over Memphis (4-1)
San Antonio over Denver (4-3)
Houston over Dallas (4-3)
Sacramento over Seattle (4-2)

EAST
Miami over NJ (4-0)
Detroit over Phily (4-0)
Boston over Indiana (4-1)
Chicago over Washington (4-3)

Joanna has nothing to add... she is a little engulfed in Desperate Houswives.

Does the new Pope remind us of anyone? (Cue the Imperial March)

http://www.gordonkeith.com/wordpress/

And, if you are a fan of Herpes, Michael Vick, or both - get yourself some sweet skills and t-shirt to match at http://www.ronmexico.com/RonMexico/

Alright - gotta go feed Tina. Later.

McCords - Out.