COUNTDOWN TO 100, POST 99: "The Best Laid Plans of Mice & Men"
Well, Good Morning, friends.
Yeah, yeah, I know. You all read me say “three posts” yesterday, and I’m certain that none of you believed me, and for good reason. Just like real life, the Kingdom is full of empty promises. Hey, I’m sorry it’s so heartbreaking, but stop your bellyaching! I mean, there was beer! What am I supposed to do?
Yes, last night my Heterosexual Life Partner and KP picked me up after my environmental crimes class (which, I believe is so boring that it’s a crime against the environment itself) and we headed to the Waterfront for a little dinner at Pizza Uno. A little “shrimp scampi” pasta (which was decidedly lacking in garlic) later, and it was over to Duke’s for some baseball and brews. That didn’t last long, though, and we migrated, like so many …umm, migrants, to Hemingway’s, where we put down $1 Miller Lites as that quaint little establishment turned into the World’s Biggest Sausage Party. I swear, it was like Theta Chi open rush in there. Super-Hot waitresses notwithstanding, as the place got more and more crowded, and we got to hang out around guys with wicker cowboy hats (who I REALLY wanted to RKO/Diamond Cut/Stunner!), I got increasingly more annoyed with all the guys there watching the Miami/Louisville game INSTEAD of the baseball playoffs. Now, I realize fully that I a) live in Pittsburgh, and thus, football will always be more popular and that b) the Cardinals/Astros series is by-and-largely being ignored by the free world, even though it’s been a more exciting series than the Yanks/Sox so far, but that being said, I was still Mega-Annoyed. Why?
WARNING: SPORTS FAN RANT. IF YOU AIN’T INTERESTED, MOVE ALONG.
Because Pitt fans are like Red Sox fans. And I mean that as an insult. Pitt fans have been so ingrained with their inferiority complex, when it comes to football, that all they do is harp and bitch and moan and root against teams that are consistently better than them. Pitt fans will tell you all about how they “hate” Miami, and how they’re big-huge-terrible-evil rivals because Miami left the Big East, and because they were in the same conference for so long. But guess what? It HAS TO BE COMPETITIVE TO BE A RIVALRY. In fact, Pitt fans HATE Miami because all Miami has done for the last 25 years is put Pitt on its ass, year in-year out. It’s just like Pitt/PSU. Pitt fans HATE PSU. PSU fans don’t care about Pitt. There most CERTAINLY AREN’T “Friends don’t let friends go to UPITT” or “PITT SUCKS” t-shirts with Walt Harris on them in Happy Valley. But I digress. You see, everyone was super-rooting against Miami last night, because they’re Miami, and ‘we’re’ Pitt, and 'we’re the underdog,' and we hate that evil Miami empire! Blah blah. I WISH PSU was as good, consistently, as Miami! And don’t try to turn this around on me, because you know what? If PSU’s not playing them, I root for BIG TEN teams like the Luckeyes and Michigan. Those are teams I know, with players I can appreciate. But last night, like, ALL of Hemingway’s was standing up screaming and rooting against Miami, just because they were losing. If they would’ve been winning, no one there would have cared. And I guess that’s just kind of the point of this rant—it annoyed me. ESPECIALLY because Louisville joins the Big East next year, and they’re EXACTLY the type of team Pitt fans should be worrying about/learning how to despise.
RANT OVER.
Okay.. I didn’t expect that to take so long, but no matter. I guess that’s just reflective of the kind of mood I’m in right now. The last few weeks I’ve found that I’m starting to feel like the most disposable person in the world. Much like John J. Rambo, I feel utterly expendable, you know, “It’s like.. if you’re invited to a party, and you don’t show up… no one really cares.” I don’t mean to bemoan my existence, especially in light of what’s been a truly fun week, with two consecutive flashback frat-dog nights. (Oh yeah—Props to Lara and Jess for finding us in the previously unexplored “upstairs” of Peter’s Pub last night. Dancing = fun. Although Jess is like, straight off of Soul Train or the Grind or something ridiculous like that… American Bandstand? I dunno), but I mean, this IS my online diary, so every now and then, y’all are going to have to put up with it. I just wanted to warn you to expect certain (hopefully manageable) levels of melancholy over the course of the next few weeks. I’m just sort of in one of those places. I’m just easily jettisoned, and it ain’t that awesome. Middle Child Syndrome strikes again! As my Godmother, my Aunt Cindy used to describe these bouts of moroseness during my childhood, “Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I guess I’ll go eat worms.”
So yeah, there’s still a lot to catch up on from this week, but as the days go by, it all feels less and less interesting. I would like to give out Props to my new best friend, DeShawn (or however you spell it). He’s the self-proclaimed “King of the Titty Bar” who we met with Adrienne and friends a few weeks ago at Hemingway’s. We were hanging out with him and the ladies the last two evenings, and he hands down has the coolest afro (avec pick) that I’ve ever seen in real life. And, during someone’s drunken karaoke rendition of “Baby Got Back” two evenings ago, he gave us a supreme shout-out during the “white boys got to shout” portion of that seminal hip-hop hit. Which was really cool.
ALMOST as cool as running into “Glenn” last night—the “You’re LL COOL J” guy from two weeks ago. He didn’t remember us, and we blew his mind when we stopped him and said hello, but by damn that was a cool experience. Much cooler than buying those drinks for those four cute girls last night, and accomplishing nothing but a little batting practice. I don’t really have a problem going down swinging like that, because you gots to take your chances, y’know? But I would’ve liked to have shaved beforehand, and been a little more nicely dressed than Ugly-Sweater, but what can you do? I really let the Boy Scouts of America down when I left for class yesterday, ESPECIALLY since I KNEW Kup and Kris were going to want to go out before I got a chance to come home and change/shave. Ah well, C’est la vie.
And with that, my friends, I bid you adieu for now, but fret not! I don’t feel like doing work today at work, so I’ll probably be back VERY soon (especially since there’s Mozart on the radio, and Wolfgang always makes me want to write) with my 100th POST! and an announcement concerning the BOLD NEW DIRECTION (only 83% like the old direction!) of the Kingdom!
Stay tuned!
-apk
Yeah, yeah, I know. You all read me say “three posts” yesterday, and I’m certain that none of you believed me, and for good reason. Just like real life, the Kingdom is full of empty promises. Hey, I’m sorry it’s so heartbreaking, but stop your bellyaching! I mean, there was beer! What am I supposed to do?
Yes, last night my Heterosexual Life Partner and KP picked me up after my environmental crimes class (which, I believe is so boring that it’s a crime against the environment itself) and we headed to the Waterfront for a little dinner at Pizza Uno. A little “shrimp scampi” pasta (which was decidedly lacking in garlic) later, and it was over to Duke’s for some baseball and brews. That didn’t last long, though, and we migrated, like so many …umm, migrants, to Hemingway’s, where we put down $1 Miller Lites as that quaint little establishment turned into the World’s Biggest Sausage Party. I swear, it was like Theta Chi open rush in there. Super-Hot waitresses notwithstanding, as the place got more and more crowded, and we got to hang out around guys with wicker cowboy hats (who I REALLY wanted to RKO/Diamond Cut/Stunner!), I got increasingly more annoyed with all the guys there watching the Miami/Louisville game INSTEAD of the baseball playoffs. Now, I realize fully that I a) live in Pittsburgh, and thus, football will always be more popular and that b) the Cardinals/Astros series is by-and-largely being ignored by the free world, even though it’s been a more exciting series than the Yanks/Sox so far, but that being said, I was still Mega-Annoyed. Why?
WARNING: SPORTS FAN RANT. IF YOU AIN’T INTERESTED, MOVE ALONG.
Because Pitt fans are like Red Sox fans. And I mean that as an insult. Pitt fans have been so ingrained with their inferiority complex, when it comes to football, that all they do is harp and bitch and moan and root against teams that are consistently better than them. Pitt fans will tell you all about how they “hate” Miami, and how they’re big-huge-terrible-evil rivals because Miami left the Big East, and because they were in the same conference for so long. But guess what? It HAS TO BE COMPETITIVE TO BE A RIVALRY. In fact, Pitt fans HATE Miami because all Miami has done for the last 25 years is put Pitt on its ass, year in-year out. It’s just like Pitt/PSU. Pitt fans HATE PSU. PSU fans don’t care about Pitt. There most CERTAINLY AREN’T “Friends don’t let friends go to UPITT” or “PITT SUCKS” t-shirts with Walt Harris on them in Happy Valley. But I digress. You see, everyone was super-rooting against Miami last night, because they’re Miami, and ‘we’re’ Pitt, and 'we’re the underdog,' and we hate that evil Miami empire! Blah blah. I WISH PSU was as good, consistently, as Miami! And don’t try to turn this around on me, because you know what? If PSU’s not playing them, I root for BIG TEN teams like the Luckeyes and Michigan. Those are teams I know, with players I can appreciate. But last night, like, ALL of Hemingway’s was standing up screaming and rooting against Miami, just because they were losing. If they would’ve been winning, no one there would have cared. And I guess that’s just kind of the point of this rant—it annoyed me. ESPECIALLY because Louisville joins the Big East next year, and they’re EXACTLY the type of team Pitt fans should be worrying about/learning how to despise.
RANT OVER.
Okay.. I didn’t expect that to take so long, but no matter. I guess that’s just reflective of the kind of mood I’m in right now. The last few weeks I’ve found that I’m starting to feel like the most disposable person in the world. Much like John J. Rambo, I feel utterly expendable, you know, “It’s like.. if you’re invited to a party, and you don’t show up… no one really cares.” I don’t mean to bemoan my existence, especially in light of what’s been a truly fun week, with two consecutive flashback frat-dog nights. (Oh yeah—Props to Lara and Jess for finding us in the previously unexplored “upstairs” of Peter’s Pub last night. Dancing = fun. Although Jess is like, straight off of Soul Train or the Grind or something ridiculous like that… American Bandstand? I dunno), but I mean, this IS my online diary, so every now and then, y’all are going to have to put up with it. I just wanted to warn you to expect certain (hopefully manageable) levels of melancholy over the course of the next few weeks. I’m just sort of in one of those places. I’m just easily jettisoned, and it ain’t that awesome. Middle Child Syndrome strikes again! As my Godmother, my Aunt Cindy used to describe these bouts of moroseness during my childhood, “Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I guess I’ll go eat worms.”
So yeah, there’s still a lot to catch up on from this week, but as the days go by, it all feels less and less interesting. I would like to give out Props to my new best friend, DeShawn (or however you spell it). He’s the self-proclaimed “King of the Titty Bar” who we met with Adrienne and friends a few weeks ago at Hemingway’s. We were hanging out with him and the ladies the last two evenings, and he hands down has the coolest afro (avec pick) that I’ve ever seen in real life. And, during someone’s drunken karaoke rendition of “Baby Got Back” two evenings ago, he gave us a supreme shout-out during the “white boys got to shout” portion of that seminal hip-hop hit. Which was really cool.
ALMOST as cool as running into “Glenn” last night—the “You’re LL COOL J” guy from two weeks ago. He didn’t remember us, and we blew his mind when we stopped him and said hello, but by damn that was a cool experience. Much cooler than buying those drinks for those four cute girls last night, and accomplishing nothing but a little batting practice. I don’t really have a problem going down swinging like that, because you gots to take your chances, y’know? But I would’ve liked to have shaved beforehand, and been a little more nicely dressed than Ugly-Sweater, but what can you do? I really let the Boy Scouts of America down when I left for class yesterday, ESPECIALLY since I KNEW Kup and Kris were going to want to go out before I got a chance to come home and change/shave. Ah well, C’est la vie.
And with that, my friends, I bid you adieu for now, but fret not! I don’t feel like doing work today at work, so I’ll probably be back VERY soon (especially since there’s Mozart on the radio, and Wolfgang always makes me want to write) with my 100th POST! and an announcement concerning the BOLD NEW DIRECTION (only 83% like the old direction!) of the Kingdom!
Stay tuned!
-apk
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