MONDAY HANGOVER: "It's Exceptional, How the People Here At This Party Are So Agreeable"

Welcome back to the Kingdom, and welcome to the Kingdom, for the first time, Buff and Nate. Search the archives for old "Bows and Toes" postings, I'm sure you'll enjoy them.

Well, what can I say about the weekend that was? Other than it was a pretty great weekend. SO great, in fact, that I have to stop and actually remember what the hell happened on Friday before I can write any more...

AH! Friday night. I remember now! Yough (my alma mater) battled Moon for the Class AAA WPIAL Championship. And by "battled" I mean "rolled over and died." Eh, c'est la vie, n'at. It was a hell of a run, and we've still got the PIAA tournament to get excited about, I suppose. It was pretty cool to run into some old Yough friends, including my old Algebra teacher, who basically admitted that he partied pretty hard back in the days when he was teaching us, which was pretty cool to find out. Kind of reminded me of AliMac.

MOST importantly, however, was my first up-close encounter with Trenni Kushnierick, of Fox Sports Pittsburgh, who I find supremely attractive/super-smart when it comes to sports. If the girl likes beer, she's pretty much an almost-perfect candidate to be my next ex-girlfriend. With the exception to the fact that, of course, she's a local celebrity and I'll never speak to her.

Afterwards, Pizz, Drew and I bounced around Oakland in search of Pizz's friends and mad-brews. If you go to Pitt, be put on notice that the waitresses at Boomerang's the new bar next to Hemingway's, and H-O-T. Particularly the beautiful chapstick girl, who was sporting a bikini Friday. They really know how to break into the market there at B-Rang's. Once we finally tracked down Kris's friends, Drew proceded to steal away my favorite girl (and by 'steal away' I mean, 'corner her and talk to her and not let me even get in the game'). Normally, I wouldn't mind such a transgression, as Chick Safari is as "kill or be killed" as it gets. However, I explicitly said to Drew, "the one in the middle is my favorite- she's definitely an Adam girl." to which he replied, "Yes. Yes she is." To make matters worse, she was the captain of her quiz team in jr. high, and routinely lost to us. We were kindred spirits, really. Oh- and also, I found out that she's the ex girlfriend of OX ex-patriot HILF. She informed me that "he's an asshole" and that he lives in PGH. While I can't confirm if he's an asshole or not (I was always a fan, actually), I can confirm that I got his number, and will be tracking him down, soon.

Woah. This Hangover's getting pretty long... Let's close up shop for now, because I've got to do some reading/writing before 24 comes on. Perhaps this way, I'll have something cool to write about tomorrow. You know, like THE BARRISTAR'S BALL...BAll...Ball..ball...bal.....

I'll be back either soon, or tomorrow, or Wednesday. You're best bet is to keep on keepin' on, keep checkin' the site, and keep pumpin' up that sitemeter!

In the meantime, be good to each other, and listen to today's Song of the Day, "Let Me In" by MrNorth. That is, if you can find it.

-apk

DAILY DOSE: "Your Wagon's Been Hitched to a Star"

Ahh, nothing makes me smile like my baby brother reminding me of our youth. Yes friends, his post yesterday is 113% accurate. All three of those anecdotes are true.

We used to make our lineup cards by setting up baseball cards of our players. If you didn't have the card, that guy couldn't 'play' on your team. Of coures I had complete sets of Pirates, and I consistently forced him to play as substandard teams. The Phillies, maybe? I can't remember. One day, we left them out by the sumac bush, and they were subsequently washed to hell by a summer squall. My '88 Topps Pirates set is still warped and mushy. That also reminds me of the time I left my baseball glove out in the rain, and all the Pirates autographs I had gotten washed off. EXCEPT my Andy Van Slyke autograph. Divine intervention? Nope. He had just signed with his own pen, a thick blue sharpie. I've still got the glove.

The only thing I can add to the "line drive to the nuts" story is that he was standing less than 20 feet away when he got nailed. The distance was similar when the tennis ball hit him in the eye. I also distinctly remember launching that tennis ball a good 300 feet, over my neighbor's roof. MAN I had power...when hitting a tennis ball...pitched by an 11 year old... but I digress.

Those are good memories. I should start a column detailing my history of torment with my brother. I was just telling Marc how it's unfortunate he didn't have a little brother to torment. It's really a lost art. Who would think to sit on their brother's chest and feed his hand to the dog? Or sit on his chest and repeatedly touch his brother's eyelids? This kid. Don't get me wrong, I love Gooder to death. We did fun stuff, too, like kick rubber footballs off of my dad's camper and race pinewood derby cars down our makeshift colouring-book track. Fun times. Like when we'd explore the woods behind the house, and he tumbled down a hillside into a pile of leaves, just barely missing a random pile of metal and tires... that was life on the Mean Streets of Madison...

Wow. Trips down memory lane are fun. Did any of you have little brothers? Were any of you little brothers? As this run through the big 80's continues, let's check ou the Link of the Day!
What's awesome about this list is that i played with significantly, or even owned, seven of these 'top ten.' However, I feel as though the VOLTRON castle got hosed. For the record, I recently found my Millenium Falcon, and it now sits proudly in my room. I also think that the He-Man Slime Pit was the shit. That thing is seriously disturbing. I mean, really-- your pour evil deadly killing slime through an animal skull onto heroes being held in place by a huge skelton hand. No wonder my generation's frickin' insane.

Any other great toys I forgot? C'mon kids, play along!

Anyway, that's enough for now, keep your fingers crossed for the Cougars tonight! And if you have Fox Sports Pittsburgh, watch my high school play for the WPIAL Championship tonight at 9! (For the record, the WPIAL has more people in it than Rhode Island. So winning the WPIAL is like being a state champion...if you're Bromberg).

Oh- Song of the Day is "Champagne High" by Sister Hazel. Kinda of a lame pick, I know, but I like the song, and it popped up on an old WinAmp list I've been running of late this morning. It's been stuck in my head ever since.

Enjoy your weekend!
Excelsior!
-apk

THE WAYBACK MACHINE travels to my backyard.

There’s nothing quite like it. On a hot, muggy, summer afternoon, broken by the occasional cool breeze, two titans stand off against one another locked in bitter a bitter struggle. It can happen in an orange-grass marred backyard, or on the unforgiving cement of a forty year old tennis court. There are no officials. No teammates. It’s just man-to-man, plastic versus plastic.

It’s wiffleball.

My hometown was ridiculously short on kids. In fact, a large portion of my personality is a complete byproduct of spending the vast majority of my time playing with young girls. As a result of this shortage of playmates, me and my less-than-a-handful of friends found ways to play an awful lot of one-on-one sports. Full -court hockey and pass-to-yourself football immediately come to mind (oddly, we never played one-on-one basketball, because all the hoops in the park were broke). These games were great, but there’s only one thing that taught me about the joy of competition, the agony of defeat, and valor of persistence-- the legendary game of wiffleball.

I was thinking about my love of baseball the other day, and for some reason, I started thinking about those old wiffleball games with my old friend, JR. He was as much a Mets fan as I was a Pirates fan, so those teams played each other about 2000 times during the summers of 1989-92. We took realism to max. We’d make out lineup cards before the games, wear batting gloves to bat, and fielding gloves to field (im STILL not comfortable playing wiffleball bare-handed). Did any of you ever have those plastic team helmets, and wear them during wiffleball games? We’d wear the regular team ballcap while playing the field, and then switch when we went to bat. We drew “wiffleball league” logos on the bats, and even tried to convince our parents to let us line their backyards. And we’d play anywhere.

But my house was the best. About, I dunno, 50 feet from the house was a small hedgeline separating our yard from the neighbors, and it was a tailor-made home run fence. My clubhouse (which my dad built on six-foot stilts) was perfectly-aligned to be our LF foul pole, and the right half of the dogwood tree was our own little Pesky Pole. The only drawback about playing at my house was the huge vine bush behind homeplate, where it was nearly impossible to find balls that had been lost within. Well, that and my dad wasn’t too fond of all the foul balls denting the aluminum siding. Something he still bitches about to this day (sorry I damaged your house, ‘Dina!)

JR’s house wasn’t as good. There were too many trees. But he did have a small hockey goal, which was perfectly re-cast as a makeshift strikezone. In Madison League Wiffleball, you’d best swing at the low ones, because it that ball ends up in the net, it’s a strike. Since his yard didn’t really work, we’d go down to the local rundown netless tennis court, and play within the fenced-in concrete jungle. It was like playing wiffleball in a steel cage match. To this day, no one’s hit it over the “Fence Monster” homerun wall on a fly.

Ahh, wiffleball. I don’t know what’s better about it. The makeshift rules (the rhododendron bush is the ‘first baseman’) or the creativity (I know like 47 pitches). Remember ‘ghost runners,’ and how they could only take as many bases as the regular runner? We’d also announce that we were stealing, which took imagination to a whole ‘nother level. The pitcher would move to homeplate, and the runner would start at first, and take off the 20 feet to second, you either threw him out, or you didn’t. Pitching the ball was an amazing feat. Sure, everyone knows how to throw the curve and screwball, it was right there on the box (let’s be honest, the only TRUE wiffleball is the one with the holes on ONE side) but did you know that if you slightly press in on the hard-bottom of the ball, and throw it sideways, it will flat spin, becoming impossible to hit into the air? Well, now you do. That’s the press ball. Also, the vaunted “Atari Ball” was nearly unhittable. Talk about your “out pitches.” All you do is hold the ball with your index finger along one of the ridges between two holes, and spread your thumb and middle finger out as far as you can, holding the ball with those three fingers (like the old Atari logo). Snap your wrist ever so slightly, and you get wiffleball’s version of the splitter. And yes, I just shared my two best pitches with you.

Wiffleball is truly America’s game, and though I’m not surprised that there are actual leagues, it blows me away that I’ve never played in a sanctioned game. The closest we ever got was selling “tickets” to local neighbors, making them come over and sit in law chairs and watch us play. Otherwise, I’m stuck remembering when I wanted to start a local league, but my parents wouldn’t allow me to build an outfield fence out of chicken-wire and plywood. They always stunted my creative growth. And here they were dealing with a wiffleball ICON. I proudly hold the All-Madison Summer record for Home Runs, at 112.

..though, I used neither the cream nor the clear, I did pump up my stats with an awful lot of games against my brother and chick-neighbor. But I’m not putting an asterisk by my stats! I’m in the HALL, dammit!

Ahh, Wiffleball. The game of games. Did any of you take it as way-too-seriously as we in Madison did?

Until next time, remember that only girls and little kids use the Big Red Bat.

-apk

DAILY DOSE: "Hang Up the Halo Maybe You'll Write"

Afternoon, all, and welcome to the Dose. I'm going to go out on a limb here and PROMISE you that I post my long-awaited tribute to wiffleball later this afternoon. I know that the Kingdom is where my promises go to die, but gimme a shot, just this once.

This week has really flown by. It's amazing what taking Monday off can do for me, as I've felt super-charged all week, after two weeks of doldrums. It may be because the Law Prom is Saturday, it may be that Yough plays for the WPIAL Championship tomorrow (and I WILL be in attendence. Though I won't be wearing my letterman's jacket). It's VERY cool to have a mom on the schoolboard, 'cuz I totally got hooked up with tix...although it's entirely probable that the tix were free.

Tonight, I clean 707, as part of my 'List B Cleaning Detail' duties, and then head to Jean-Eileen's for a little dinner and some Buffy. Dinner-dish ideas are welcomed, I can't think of something to make (not that I've given it much thought).

Today's Song of the Day is my #1 favourite song in the entire known universe, "On Any Given Day" by Carbon Leaf. Of course they played it last night, back-to-back with my second fav. CL song, "One Prairie Outpost" making me a happy-happy camper. The show itself was downright fantastic, and I give props to Sprout, AliMac and Danielle for going along for the ride. The group actually returned to their Irish-themed a capella roots during the encore, for the first time in like, two years, successfully capping off a wonderful show.

The Link of the Day is a little bit different, and it features the 100 greatest gadgets of all time. I like this list because it actually defines the parameters of eligibility. Also, the #1 is kind of interesting, because I was just watching the movie Mission: Impossible the other night, and actually thought about how it's ten years old, and how big a deal those laptops seemed to be back then. It's crazy that like, 75% of all the students in my class use them to take notes/IM/play solitaire. How far we've come, indeed.

anywho, I'm going to run along for now, and perhaps eat a Pop Tart. Next time it's slow around here, remind me to tell you guys how my first Field Sobriety Test went...

-apk

DAILY DOSE: "We Can't Rewind, We've Come Too Far"

I just went to Findyourspot.com, to find out where the best places for me to live in the Goode Ol' U-S-of A are, and was happy to find that I'm totally compatible with Charlotte, NC, one of my longtime "places where I figured I could live and be very happy." Really the only drawback is that it doesn't have an MLB team.

The funniest thing, however, is that CARLISLE FRICKIN' PENNSYLVANIA made my Top 25. How does that happen?

Anywho, go check out the site and have some fun. The LINK OF THE DAY is something far more important. All I have to say about the "Cardiac Cats" is this:

Chewin' Tobbaca
Chewin' Tobbaca
SPIT SPIT SPIT!
If you ain't a COUGAR,
you aint $#!+

Moving right along, here's a little bit about my weekend. I was joined by the lovely A-Wal for a PGH Culturefest weekend, featuring my first visit to the Andy Warhol Museum (Verdict: .....huh?....) as well as visits to some of my favourite Oakland landmarks like the Carnegie, Heinz Chapel, and the Nationality Rooms at the Cathedral of Learning. We also met up with Pizz and Z and took part in the awesomeness that is Dave & Buster's, where I proceeded to once again defeat the Galactic Empire on behalf of the Rebel Alliance. Wedge Antilles- eat your heart out.

Right now, I'm pretty bored, and skipping my office hours to bring this to you. However, I'm feeling terribly non-creative, and I'm kind of just typing for the hell of it. So, I'm gonna go now, try not miss me. Tonight will feature Carbon Leaf with AliMac, Sprout, and perhaps Danielle. I'm pretty excited, but there's A FEW GOOD MEN to watch for class, first, and a suit to drop off at the dry cleaners. Whaddya'all think I should wear to the prom? Lite Blue, or Lite Yellow? The Blue is the Franchise Player, which I wore to ...oh, every other fraternity formal. The yellow I wore to Kujo's wedding... opinions?

keep it real
-apk '98
GO COUGARS!

DAILY DOSE: "I Only Speak When I'm Allowed"

Mornin' Children,

Not a lot of time to talk right now, because I'm printing at the lab and then heading to class, but with any luck, I'll be back later to tell you about my weekend. My good friend A-Wal visited from DC, and have got some interesting thoughts to share about my inability to understand pop art, my burning hatred for watercolour, my old love of Enterprise, Galactica, and 24, and my new love of Arressted Development.

Also, there was a WWF Pay-Per-View event at the Mellon (Don't Call me Civic) Arena on Sunday, but since wrestling has sucked for three years running, I missed it. Ah well.

Since I'm in a rush, and haven't been surfing since Friday, I regret to report that there's no Link today. There is, however, a Song, Carbon Leaf's "Grey Sky Eyes," I cho-cho-choose them today because I'm gonna see them tomorrow night, bringing the count up to, i dunno, 497 times that I'll have seen them live.

Finally, a Quick Poll, because I feel guilty for not posting yesterday:

Okay, I've not been to the movies in a REALLLLY long time, so you're going to have to fill me in/help me out:

What's the best movie to come out since Thanksgiving? Better yet- what's the best movie currently playing in the theatre? I need to know what's good!

later,
-apk

DAILY DOSE: "Dum Dum Dum DA DAD Dum Dum DA DA Yadda Yadda Yadd YA-DA, YA-DA, OH OH OHHHHH"

Man, I can’t buy a bucket around here! I even made reference to Charles in Charge last week, and couldn’t get a post. You, my friends, are a tough crowd. How many of you noticed that Blogger changed the posting style- so now you don’t even have to log in to post! No LOG IN NEEDED! Jerry—I know you’re out there, but too lazy to say anything! Now’s the time! …sigh. You all suck. But no matter! The Kingdom rolls on! We recently passed 4,000 hits, so I’d like to thank God and my family for this incredible honour.

I was cleaning my room last night, and listening to old “50 Hours for Autism” tapes, which was more fun than it had any right to be. At random, I pulled out the hour where Uram helped out with his “Boy Band Hour.” After spending an hour listening to Another Bad Creation, Five, and Boyz II Men, I ask you this: Whatever happened to the East Coast Family? It was BIIM, ABC, and Bel Biv Devoe, this much is certain; but it’s as though shortly after that BIIM/Mariah Carey collaboration, not only did Boyz II Men disappear forever, but they took the whole family with them. Truly sad. In my personal opinion, I think the problem was that Boyz II Men grew up too fast, and alienated their listeners with the album ‘II.’ They got away from kid-boy-band pop like “Mowtown Philly,” and got caught up in soulful sex songs like, “I’ll make love to you.” Definitely a mistake. Sure, songs like “End of the Road” were good and popular for them, but that was because they were perfect jr. high dance songs. They just got too old.

My point is this: I think an East Coast Family reunion album would sell like gangbusters. Or at least it’s time for a Boyz II Men comeback. I think they can bring the ruckus. And for the record, I’m a prefer “Playground” by ABC over “Aisha.”

Thus, in honour of my 50 Hours Flashback last night, today’s Song of the Day is “Mowtown Philly.” I don’t got no Link for you. Sorry. Someone go Google “Boyz II Men” and let me know what they’re up to.

One other thought about the 50 Hours. I also caught the beginning of the Love Line hour, where some Thetas came in and had a call in love session thing. As we waited for people to call, the discussion turned from being about Jack and Kup, to me, as I got sideswiped by some Thetas with an agenda. If you ever want to hear me at my most uncomfortable, this ten minutes of tape is priceless. What sucks is, as I ran from the main microphone to the director’s room, so I could hide, I forgot to switch tapes, so the Love Line Hour stands as the ONLY hour of the 50 I don’t have on tape. Unfortunate, because I remember it becoming progressively worse as the hour ticked by.

Okay, stay tuned for later in the day, when I stick with my baseball thoughts, to discuss something near and dear to my heart: wiffleball.

Keep it real/happy weekend

-apk

These are the thoughts that plague me:

I think that there are two types of people in this world. Those that prefer Another Bad Creation's song "Aisha," and those that prefer "the Playground."

which are you?

-apk

and for the record, I'm demanding an Another Bad Creation reunion album NOW!

DAILY DOSE: "In the Wink of A Young Girl's Eye"

PITCHERS AND CATCHERS: PLEASE REPORT TO BRADENTON, FLORIDA FOR THE START OF SPRING TRAINING!

The day after the worst day in February (the headstone reading “RIP NHL” on ESPN.com sums that feeling up nicely), we’ve come to the BEST day in February. The official start of baseball season! Since Fantasy Leagues are starting up already (which is borderline ridiculous. Who in their right mind would draft ANYONE with six weeks before Opening Day?), I thought I’d ask yinz if there’s interest out there to start one of those really simple fantasy leagues? We could do a non-draft one, like the free ESPN one. It runs more like buying stocks than fantasy baseball? Everyone’s invited. Perhaps I’ll link to it next week, if there’s enough interest.

So yes, it’s baseball time again. Well, almost. It’s more like, “It’s windsprint time again.” But I’ll take it. Just watching Pittsburgh Sports Tonight (it’s SportsCenter, without annoying cathphrases, and focusing entirely on PGH and PSU sports. And it’s awesome.) will be SO much fun. Seeing all the boys back in black and gold, Ollie, Bay (who needs a nickname), Tike, Jack, and of course, Rob, will help bring a little bit of spring into my life. That is, until I realize Rob changed his number to the super-lame #3. A number SO lame, my brother used to wear it.

Okay, so #3’s not THAT lame, but it’s not half as cool as his previously iron-nosed #59. He used to wear Jack Ham’s number, for Chrissakes! Baggy pants aside, he plays like a linebacker, too. Super-tough and hardnosed and ready to get dirty. #59 fit him perfectly. Now he’s wearing Babe Ruth and A-Rod’s number. Bullshit.

Which brings me to my point (finally). There are definitely baseball numbers that are better than others. I know baseball’s not necessarily the sport of choice for you Kingdomites, but I’ve got a feeling that y’all know what I’m getting at. So what are the great baseball numbers, I humbly ask you. In no particular order, cool numbers to wear are:

5: probably the best of the one-digit numbers. Since you basically call players by their number while on the diamond, just getting to call a guy “Five” sounds cool. I wore this for a year in Pony League, when we didn’t have a 13, and I was firmly entrenched in my Jeff Bagwell phase. It also has a personal connotation for me, because Steve Beyer and Jeff Fischer both wore this number, and they’re two of the three grittiest guys I ever played with.

9: Nine’s a pretty good number, and probably the only other acceptable 1-digit. I’m willing to bend on 7, but 1, 2, and 8 should be avoided at all times. Also, I don’t think that anyone in the history of the game has actually worn the number 4.

11: Eleven’s solid, due to symmetrical reasons. But I think it’s only good for pitchers. And maybe catchers, because it would work well with the chest guard straps. Also, if you wear 11, you can be called “Stix.” Which is as solid of a nickname as it gets.

13: Okay, you KNEW it had to be on here, right? Personally I think it’s the best number in the universe. My buddy Gavin was also a thirteen, and that totally makes sense to me. If you wear a 13, you’re a rare breed. That’s why it’s sort of an affront that A-Rod wears it now. Sure he’s good and all, but he’s wearing 13 because he couldn’t wear 3 (and for the record, I think that the Mack of All Trades is wearing 3 because he can’t wear 13) but he’s wearing it out of reverence for Dan Marino. The problem is, you don’t choose 13. 13 chooses you. There’s a certain mindset behind being a one-three that I could tell you about, but a) you’re probably not interested in, b) I don’t want to digress anymore. Thirteen’s a great number though. Looks good on the uni, and sounds good, too. “Now batting, number thirteen….” It’s one of those numbers that makes a statement, and that statement is “I’m a thirteen.”

17: Good pitcher’s number. Don’t know why, it just is. “One-Seven” or “One-Sev” sounds good from the Outfield. Also, I wore 17 when we won the 1992 Yough Little League Championship. So that might have something to do with it.

21: One of my favorite things about baseball is the fact that every Dominican wears 21 in memory of Roberto Clemente. It’s AMAZING to me how revered he is. A kid I used to play ball with at D-Son, Dario, was from the DR, and he would’ve killed someone to get 21 off of them. Kind of like Robert DeNiro in “the Fan.”

Sluggers' Numbers: It’s an undeniable fact: If you wear 23, 24, 25, 26, 29, or 33, 35, you’re a home run hitter. Or at least you’d better be. I honestly believe these numbers have special powers. I wore 24 and 25 back in consecutive years when I was 10 and 11, and hit two inside-the park homeruns with them. Added to that, I think I hit a double about every other at-bat, and had an OBP somewhere around .800 for the two-year span. You may think that means I peaked at 11. I know it was the numbers.

34: Power pitchers. Big tall strong guys that will knock you over wear 34. There’s a reason Shaq picked this number when he was in LA. It just kind of looks powerful.

You rarely come up with numbers much higher than that, that actually work. And 59 was one of them. I truly believe Rob’s identity as a player will change now, and he’s not going to be the same. These are the things I think about at night. The lesson is, I need a girlfriend.

Post-up and let me know what I forgot, or share some opinions on numbers. Marc, I know you adore 22, and it works for hockey, where consecutive double-digits have magical powers (66, 99, 77), but I don’t see it with baseball. Sorry to let you down. It’d be fun to know what numbers y’all wore in Little League/softball/whatever. I can tell you if they were good or bad, or you were good or bad, based on the number.

For the record, I remember every number I’ve ever worn:

1985: 9
1986: 36
1988: 2
1989: 13
1990: 24
1991: 25
1992: 17
1993: 13
1994: 5, 31 (All-Star (notice it’s 13 backwards))
1995: 36 (HS), 13 (Pony), 1
1996: 24 (HS), 13 (Colt) 13 (All-Star)
1997: 13 (HS), 13 (Colt) 13 (All-Star)
1998: 13 (HS), 13 (Legion)
1999: 17 (Dickinson), 13 (Legion)
2000: 13
2001: 13
2002: 13
2004: 13

And that, friends, is the most worthless information I’ve ever posted. Really, I was just showing off. I know you’re impressed, it’s okay. For the record, my best seasons were probably ’89, ’90, ’92, ’94 —’97 (summer league), ’97 HS, ’02 Dickinson. My worst were hands down ’04 (although that barely counts, being that we never had a single practice) and ’98 High School. Ugh. This sidebar is brought to you by today’s Song of the Day, the Official Theme Song of J-Broms, “Glory Days,” by Bruce Springsteen.

Also, a quick list of BAD numbers:

1: I’ve had very good friends on teams that wore 1. And two of them were flat out #1-type personalities. Basically, the kind of person who gives himself number one, is probably the kind of person you want on your team—so long as he’s playing CF or SS. It’s only good in such limited use, that I can’t give it the general nod. I’ve played with plenty of guys that wore 1, but couldn’t back it up, but thought they could. This is very bad for a team dynamic.

2: Two is strictly reserved for backup infielders and plucky shortstops. Jack Wilson did some pretty special things with it last year, but wearing number 2 basically says “I don’t think I’m number 1. You should throw fastballs right by me, because I’ll meekly stand there.” Watch Jack go from 200 hits to 160 this year.

8: I’ve never known a single good player who wore 8. Who picks eight?

29: the most powerless number on the roster. Giving someone number 29 is a kiss of death. I once paid a kid 20 dollars to switch me numbers, not so much because I wanted his 13, but because I knew what came of those who wore 29. The lesson: I hit in the .300s that year, he hit somewhere around his IQ. And he wasn’t very smart.

69: To paraphrase Gavin, “If you wear 69, and you’re not a lineman, it just proves that you’re an asshole.” Bronson Arroyo wore 69 as a Pirate. Now he has a World Series ring. Life is so unfair.

I think that’ll do. Chime in and let me know how you feel about numerology.

Also, stay tuned to this space. As spring training progresses, I’m going to start doing my baseball Pre-Season special spectacular. I’m decidedly really good at predicting baseball. For starters, “The Mets won’t be THAT good this year.” Let’s call them “The 2004 Philadelphia Phillies.” You can’t just get by with ONLY offense in the NL. Though Pedro should be effective in Shea, the Mets are counting on KRISSY BENSON to be their number 2. In New York? The guy couldn’t take the pressure in Pittsburgh! He should’ve gone home to Atlanta, but his slut-wife wants the spotlight. Trust me, the Krissy Benson New York era will not end well.

And here’s your Link of the Day. Guy on Page 2 did a little Jose Canseco fact-checking, which sums up REALLY well why this story should just go away, and we should just start worrying about important things like, “Who will give up more first-inning runs in April this year: Ryan BLOWgelsong or Josh Fogg?” I mean, Canseco gets his entire 2000 World Series at bat WRONG. I still remember how at bats went when I was 14! This is just proof that he’s an asshole. He probably used to wear 69.

Until next time, I remain,

-thirteen-

DAILY DOSE: "Do Do. Do Do. DO DO. DO DO. AYE AYE AYE!"

Good push, Marc. Good push. I can't believe I forgot about the Pro-Bowl! The funny thing about you mentioning Hines is that I'm wearing a Hines Ward t-shirt underneath my dress shirt right now. I've long been established as the BUILDER of the Hines Ward bandwagon. He was my favourite Stiller back when he was special-teams only, and made like every tackle. I used to say stuff like, "Hines Ward is going to be a BALLER some day, mark my words."

So yeah- HINES RETURNED AN ONSIDE KICK at the Pro Bowl for a TD! It was sweet as all hell. I've only ever seen that stuff on Madden. Actually, in fact, I've done that, WITH HINES, in Madden. I love that guy. With Fatty about to retire, he's THE FACE of the Stillers in this town. Don't let anyone feed you any BS about Big Ben.

Today's Song of the Day is "Crazy Train" by Black Sabbath. Someone here in the lab just had it as a ringtone, and it's stuck in my head. By the by, "Crazy Train" is the BEST baseball entrance song. I remember a kid at Mary Washington College (Which, by the way, recently re-named itself Mary Washington University. But the alumni were so pissed, they yelled at the board about the name change. So then, the board changed the name back, BUT they kept the new one too, so the name of the school now is, i shit you not, "The Mary Washington College at Mary Washington University.") Long digression, I know. But that's funny shit.

Okay, you're going to love how I tied this all together. I was recently thinking about baseball (as I am wont to do this time of year, because I start dreaming about it in correlation to when we used to start spring training at D-Son) and was reminded about my senior year, when I was forced to pitch an inning in our 20-2 loss against perennial powerhouse Johns Hopkins. I threw the last inning, having not pitched since Little League, and gave up 3 runs, 3 walks, a balk, a double, and a home run. Great line- my lifetime NCAA ERA is 27.00.

So anyway, this Freshman kid walloped a longball down the left-field line that still probably hasn't come down. For years, I was afraid to find out if he was actually any good or not. Well, I checked the page the other day and found out THIS.

So yes, YOUR Link of the Day is the press release detailing the fact that the kid that took me yard (for his first career home run) is now a D-III Pre-Season All-American, and Two-Time Centennial Conference First Teamer, and 2003 Centennial Player of the Year.

I'm glad I got that kid rolling in the right direction. In a lot of ways, I built the Paul Winterling bandwagon, too. Think I shoud email him and congratulate him, and see if he thanks me for that 63mph fastball I tried to sneak by him? (For the record, I had 2 strikes on him. Almost got the K).

Okay, I'm out.
be good to each other.
Corey, Marc-- thanks for the very kind words. It can be scary getting serious like that sometimes, but it felt right. Also, Gramps, sorry to hear about the breakup. At least now you have time to formulate Rules for Single Life.

And finally- 24 ruled, again, last night. As did Enterprise last week. Galactica was a little, "meh, but still solid. I love television right now.

okay, gone for real.
-apk

VALENTINE'S DAY: "Truly, the Sun Shone Bright for You"

In Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Joel begins his journal entry by opining that “Valentine’s Day is a holiday created by greeting card companies to make people feel like crap.” I, for one can certainly relate, but as the clocked ticked into midnight last night, I decided that I wouldn’t be one of those anti-Valentine’s Day people. It’s really becoming kind of cliché. In fact, it’s almost as cliché as Valentine’s Day in general, and Valentine’s Day is Master of all clichéd days (roses, chocolate, teddy bears, lingerie, diamonds. Pick whichever one corresponds most closely to the level of your relationship, buy it, and take her to dinner. Lather, rinse, repeat as necessary.). Seriously, I can’t believe that boyfriends ever screw Valentine’s Day up. It’s like a free pass to score. But I digress.

So no, that wouldn’t be me. I’m not going to feel like crap today. Honestly, it might be because I’m just so calloused from all the beatings I’ve taken when it comes to love over the last, I dunno, three years or so, but I’d like to just believe that I’m moving into a Brave New World of optimism. But I have a problem—this albatross of a blog. I’ve got to say something today, right? If I simply sit back, and ignore Valentine’s Day, or make some sort of snide remark about it, then it appears I’m ‘feeling like crap,’ which I’ve resolved myself not to do. But y’all expect me to comment on what I’m feeling, because that’s what this blog is for (notice “melodramatic prose” in my profile to your right) à right? So here goes. Today, I’m not going to mourn my lack of love, I’m going to celebrate the love I’ve felt in my life, and I’m going to do it with two almost-quick stories. One for each person I’ve been unequivocally head over heels in love with during my life. I encourage those of you out there to share today, as well. Tell us a story about what you loved, or continue to love, so much about the one you’re with, or the one you’ve lost, or whatever. It can’t hurt to be cheesy sometimes.

I distinctly remember meeting Claire (Alabama Claire, for those of you about to ask ‘which one’) during the early days of freshman year. It was actually my training shift in the cafe’s dishroom. Kup, Taylor, and Pappas were all lined up with me on the slop trough, and there was this positively adorable girl working ‘silver.’ That was Claire. She’s about my height, thin, with brown hair, beautiful eyes, and a southern drawl that I’ll always be a sucker for. I remember glancing her way a few times that shift, trying to accidentally make eye contact or something, like you do when you see a cute girl on the bus. I didn’t get to actually, you know, talk to her, or anything until later into the week, when she came down from the second floor and hung out on the balcony with everyone. One ‘y’all’ later, and I was hooked.

It took all year, really, but I eventually suckered her into falling for me. It was the night of the all-campus formal, and I was going with a friend. As I was leaving my dorm, I realized I had forgotten to take gum, of all things, and ran back to my room to retrieve some. Moments later, as I headed back out the door, Claire came down the stairwell (I don’t even know why…). She was resplendent in her long black dress, and when I looked up and saw her, it was one of only a few times in my entire life I was entirely dumbfounded. The best I could come up with was, “…wow…” we both sort of stared at each other quietly, and ran for the exit. She eventually showed up at the dance, and told me I was the only reason she came, and asked me to dance with her. We kissed for the first time that night, out on the dance floor, and it was all as melodramatic as it sounds. We had one of those very short, magical, amazing romances, that ended when she went back home to the South, never to return. What I loved about Claire was that she was probably the one person I’ve ever met that’s more melodramatic than me. That always kept things beautiful and crazy and interesting, though I often felt that she was never really listening to me. Which is how Carolyn trumped her.

Care and I seem to only really date each other during summers. The first summer, back in 2001 (which feels like a lifetime ago), we were a good 45 minutes apart. I was working in Harrisburg and she was in Hershey, but I was living in Carlisle with Kup. We were fratting it up in the cafe-workers’ house, and having a grand old time. His girlfriend at the time was Carolyn’s sister, so the logic writes itself. She’s about my height, thin, with brown hair, amazing eyes, and the best laugh. She and I hit it off, in that we enjoyed being around each other. I can’t say that we fell for each other overnight, or anything remotely romantic like that. No, we did it the old fashioned way. We went on dates and got to know each other and it all just sort of happened. It’s such a blur, that summer, either because it feels like it never happened, or because I’ve spent so much time of late, trying to bury it all away, that I can’t see it clearly.

In any event, my 21^st birthday was that summer. I did the obligatory shot-fest at the Carlisle G-Man the night I turned, then awoke sometime around noon or 1 or something, I dunno, because I had to go drive and meet Carolyn. I was driving “the Russian,” back then, my old Blue Subaru hatchback that spent more time breaking down than it did running. All-in-all, she was a great car, but that day, driving all the way to Care’s house, she overheated. Twice. I thought I’d never get there, and her friends Lara and Erin were particularly pissed at me by the time I finally got to her house. See, they were supposed to escort me to find Carolyn, and I had gummed up the works by being mad-late, and not calling (what could I do? My first cell phone was a full year away).

When they finally dropped me off, I was led to a clearing along the Appalachian Trail, where Carolyn was awaiting me with a picnic and some Dave Matthews Band tickets for that night. The tickets aside, it was the picnic that did it. Somewhere, in some random email conversation, we had discussed favorite sandwhiches, as more of an aside than anything. And here, she had prepared me my favorite lunch. It wasn’t that she had did something sweet (although that was part of it) it was that she listened. And she always listened. Whether it was buying me a new copy of my favorite book (though I had only mentioned giving it away once, in passing), or remembering everything from my favorite superheroes to salad dressings, she just listened. Melodrama was over-rated, and there are a ton of reasons why I fell in love with her, but it’s mainly because she got me, which happened because she took the time to do it.

I lost Claire when she moved away, and I lost Carolyn when I wouldn’t let her get close enough to stay, and though I’ll be spending this Valentine’s Day watching 24 with Aunt Paulette and Pizz, I won’t feel like crap. No, I’ll sit happily knowing that I am capable of caring for someone like I have them, and knowing that I can be touched and affected like that. And that’ll do for now, because it’s only a matter of time before it happens again.

It is, after all, a brave new world.

Happy Valentine’s Day to you all,

-apk

DAILY DOSE: "I Hate the Winter in Lexington."

Ummm.. Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.

I’ve got big plans for writing today, being it’s one of those days. We’ll see if I get to it though, I’m trying desperately to finish the brief I’m working on. In the meantime, here’s your Dose, as well as a Monday Hangover.

What’d I do this weekend? Well… I’m a TA for a first year legal writing class. They had a paper due this morning at 10. My deadline for feedback was Saturday at noon (I had to receive a paper by then for them to get feedback). I awoke Saturday morning at my parents’ house to find THIRTEEN of them in my inbox. It takes me anywhere between 25 and 45 minutes to read through and make comments on one. That was my weekend.

Oh. And I watched Die Hard with my dad. And I caught Ski Patrol OnDemand. Loved that movie when I was ten. Love it now. It’s SO dumb it’s great.

YOUR Link of the Day is mighty funny. The best part is that these are all real (I think). I always knew there was a reason I liked Batman more.

The Song of the Day is “So Long Sweet Summer” by Dashboard Confessional. Sissified, I know, but c’mon, it’s one of those days. In fact, it’s Valentine’s Day, the Lord and King of those days.

Back with more later, hopefully.

Much love,

-apk

DAILY DOSE: "I See Some Soldiers In Here (Where They At? Where They At?)"

This is gonna be quick and dirty, kids, because I've got some work to finish up around here.

Were any of you guys Cub Scouts? Did you, too, sell the Tom Watt Showcase, or Trail's End popcorn (which, by many accounts is really good popcorn), then you can understand the ridiculousness of how THIS local kid did good. And I guess for you ladies, that just equates to one HELL of a lot of cookies...

Me return trip to CNN.com to get that link just revealed that playwright Arthur Miller passed away today, he of The Crucible, fame, I believe. He was also married to Marilyn Monroe, for a time. Damn shame.

Last night, Sprout, Mrs. Sprout, Danielle, Pat, Jeanie, Justine, Lizz, myself, and a cast of thousands took in the annual Law School charity auction. Good times, with all-you-can drink Natty Light AND Ice on tap! Sprout, Pat, and I won ourselves six Bucco tickets and a parking pass for $150. We're feeling pretty good about it, being that the face value of the tix is $27, and we helped a good cause. So yay us!

Your Song of the Day is that incessently ANNOYING Destiny's Child song, where Beyonce annoys the hell out of me. It was playing at the bar last night (but was not the song the INCREDIBLY HOT GIRL was lap dancing her boyfriend to, immediately to mine and Sprout's left) and I heard it at McDonald's this morning. I dont' know which song it is, but really, there's never been a Destiny's Child song that didn't annoy me (Where they at?!? Where they at?!?)

ugh.
talk to yinz later.
if i don't-- enjoy the weekend!
-apk

Coolness.

Found this online. Enjoy!

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid. Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh? Yaeh, and I awlyas thought slpeling was ipmorantt.

-apk

EVEN I GET BOREDED!

Some random thoughts while I clean out the booze-induced dust-bunnies in my noggin’:

-I’ve officially placed Vanilla Milk into the “better than it has any right to be” file with all Sheetz food, jager bombs, and old episodes of “The Match Game.”

-Dole Orange Peach Mango juice is like the NBA, FAN-tastic.

-Though Star Trek: Enterprise is dead, Battlestar Galactica has officially been given a second season! By the way, Battlestar is the best show that you’re not watching. It’s NOT SciFi- it’s a great war-torn character drama that just HAPPENS to occur in space. I swear!

-The Greatest American Hero is on DVD. Good start, but what about the 90’s Flash tv series? Did anyone else watch that show? The Flash was played by the dad from Dawson’s Creek.

-Did you ever notice that while shopping at a super-store, like a Wal*Mart or a Target or something, that the six people you encounter while making your way through the store (the Dad overmatched by his obnoxious kid, the obnoxious kid, the young couple, the annoying teen buying annoying music, and the old lady in the Rascal) all invariably end up in the same line with you? But the seventh person you encountered in the store, “the really cute girl buying the exact same thing as you,” always ends up like, two lines over.

-I just remembered the time Kujo and I went to Wal*Mart, and since he had a leg injury, they gave him a Rascal.

-I just remembered Kujo laughing his ass off while driving around in aforementioned Rascal, getting DIRTY looks from every senior citizen in the building. Really, I thought I was going to have to take a bullet for him.

-Nicole Eggart be dammed, I honestly think that the Pembrokes made for a much more interesting dynamic than the Powells on Charles in Charge. Really, who doesn't like Lila, Douglas, and Jason? And seriously, Adam and Sarah Powell (not to mention the asshole grandfather) are both in the "Most Infuriatingly Annoying SitCom Characters" top 10.

-Two weeks running now, my ADR prof. has singled out Gavin, Sprout, and I in the middle of class while we were rudely laughing in class and making assholeish remarks. Both times, Gavin has bailed us out instantly with a well-thought out response, totally on-point, about whatever we were talking about. It’s a thing of beauty, really. If SportsCenter knew about this, he’d be on the Ultimate Highlight (which, come to think of it, is possible, because he used to work at SportsCenter…I should check into this.).

-I can’t believe I just referenced Dawson’s Creek.

-Nothing says “when you graduate Law School, you really haven’t accomplished anything” like my $3,000 Bar Bri bar review course bill, due March 1.

-“Pitchers and Catchers report” are the four best words spoken between the Superbowl and opening Day. The ONLY thing that can top them would be “I’m going to DisneyWorld!” spoken by Hines Ward.

-They’re doing a “pie the professor” thing at the charity auction tonight, and my LEAST favourite professor is on the block. When asked if I’d donate to pie him, I replied that I would only give money if I got to put thumbtacks in the pie. The lesson here is that I’ve known Uram too long.

-Two catchphrases that HAVE to go, Drew’s “Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” and Pizz’s, “I just vomited in my mouth a little bit.” Not that I should talk, I’ve been using the positively dreadful, “I’d like to hit him in the larynx with a ball-peen hammer.”

-Actually…I kind of like that one.

-Ex Machina is an incredible comic series that’s 90% West Wing, 10% Greatest American Hero. Really, I wish I could get more people to read these things. Also, Ultimates 2 was decidedly humdrum and anti-climactic. Actually having the heroes, you know, FIGHT something would be cool.

Alright, I’m out. I’ve got papers to TA, and Findings to propose.

In the meantime, GO WATCH BATTLESTAR GALACTICA!

-apk

DAILY DOSE: {insert song lyrics HERE}

For those of you wondering, I decided to give up sweets, soda, and eating after 10pm for Lent. Jeanie said it sounds like a diet. I say it I’m using my faith as an impetus towards making myself a better person…and fitting into my jeans.

One caveat: soda is okay, if there’s alcohol in it.

Lent really is one of those funny Catholic things that I actually take part in. Except for the “no meat on Fridays thing.” Adina experienced Catholic higher-learning, and she told me that she learned in a religion class that the church started that tradition way back in the day, because the fishermen’s business was down, and they asked for help. No joke. So I only follow the “no meat” edict on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. To the rest of Lenten Fridays, I kindly say, “Where’s the Beef.”

Anywho, last night was an immensely enjoyable evening of booze-hounding and conversation with Jean, the likes of which we’ve not had in some time. I think it was good to take it back to the old days. And in fact, I don’t think we’ve been that drunk together for quite sometime, so yay for Jager bombs (even at 6 bucks at pop…oops) and dollar Blue Moons! Tonight’s the big charity auction at school, I’m headed there for no other reason than “all you can eat pizza” for 8 bucks. There’s all you can drink beer and soda too, and sense I’ve kindly given up soda in honour of our Lord, I’m pretty sure we can all figure out how this one’s gonna end.

As part of our conversation last night, Jeanie and I both lamented the apparent staleness of our blogs. As Lash Lareau so kindly pointed out last week, it’s tough business, keeping this place all updated-like, and I’ll be honest, there are days I post just because I know you, my lovely die-hard readers are out there looking for me to say something every day. Since we’re quickly approaching 4000 page hits, I thought I’d once again ask what YOU would like more of around here. I know y’all like Bows & Toes and I am the Law! And other such fanciful columns, and I genuinely enjoy writing them. They just have a knack for taking a LOT of time to write, because even I have standards. But I will try to churn them out a little more often. I’m looking for new ideas though, so feel free to chime and let me know what you’d like to hear about.

Now, here’s today’s Link. It’s more CNN Science goodness, and all I can say is that I think these guys are in WAY over their heads, and don’t even know it. The work will never be done, but God bless them for even remotely trying to “barcode” every living thing on This Island Earth.

As for a Song, well, there’s not really anything in my mind today, so consider today a freebee…or post-up and tell us what song is stuck in YOUR head. Yeah, swellness.

Look for another installment of Even I Get Boreded! Later today.

-apk

TUESDAY IS A POLL DAY: "Another Reason to Doubt Me. Another Tear Drop Falls"

Y'know, I try to get interactive around here, and can't get a single, solitary, goddamn post. And a I dunno what I was thinking asking for a Guest Star.

But I'll refrain from bitching (and try to start three sentences in a row with conjunctions). Instead (dammit. already a loser today), I'm going to throw yinz all out a Song and a Poll, and try not to miss my bus. You're just all lucky that I'm out of English Muffins, and have a 3-minute block of open space this morning.

First up, go read the "Ultimate Kingdom" column, and post some Ultimate thoughts. Jesus, people-- it's called an imagination. Remember Figment, that little purple dragon from EPCOT center? Or was I just hopped up on Purplesaurus Rex that day, and imagined him?

Okay- your song, as punishment, is from one of my guiltiest of guilty pleasures. Yes, I am the LAST Hootie and the Blowfish fan. Check out "The Earth Stopped Cold at Dawn." I happen to find it pretty. If you don't, I don't particularly care. Not like anyone actually listens to these songs.

Okay, poll time-
"What, if anything are you giving up for Lent (Ash Wednesday starts tomorrow) and if you're not a Chreaster Catholic, like Adam, what should Adam give up for lent?"

be good to each other.
and someone write a guest spot for tomorrow. Pronto.
-apk

LINK OF THE DAY: "It's True, It's True."

This is a great little article that makes a great point about the Patriots. Dynasty, yes. But they're boring as hell. And that's fine- that's how you win games, so be it. But like the author says, the Steelers, Niners, and Cowboys were all nationally hated or adored, because they all possesed a type of superstar quality/bravado that made them captivating.

I mean, is there anyone out there who's become a hardcore Pats fan over the last five years that doesn't have some sort of tie to the area? I don't see little kids pretending to be Tedy Bruschi or Deion Branch, or even St. Thomas of Brady. And other than people from the cities that have been beaten by them, does anyone really hate them?

And by hate them, I mean HATE them. Like people hated the Jeter-Yankees and Aikman-Cowboys? Does anyone out there really LOVE them, like the Montana-Niners? I'm just wondering.

This isn't sour grapes, I wish the Steelers could play as flawlessly as they do. I wish the Steelers could win three Super Bowls and be called boring. It was just an interesting observation that I found to hold some weight. Which makes me wonder if, though they'll always have that "dynasty" tag, will they be looked back upon with the type of nostalgic longing and appreciation/disdain that the 70s Steelers, 80s Niners, and 90s Cowboys enjoy?

And I'll be honest, though they may become the "forgotten dynasty" twenty years from now, I'll always hate them.

-apk

DAILY DOSE: "What I Give To You, Is Just What I'm Going Through. This is Nothing New..."

First off, a warning: any and all pro-New England posts will be censored. I don’t want to hear about it. We all know the team’s good/ a dynasty. I encourage you all to start your own Tom Brady masturbatory blog. I don’t care if you post the cure to Cancer, if there’s a “Bill Bellicheck is the Tom Brady of geniuses” in there, it’s gone forever. Now, a history lesson.

In 2000, Marvel Comics started something called the “Ultimate” universe. Basically, the idea was to take its greatest characters, like Spider-Man and the X-Men, and reboot them for a new, younger audience. The thought was that they could release themselves from the shackles of 40-odd years of stories, and get back to what made the characters great in the first place. Peter Parker wouldn’t be a 30-something with a model for a wife anymore. No, he’d be back to being a dorky high schooler, and thus, infinitely more relatable and interesting to young readers. Instead of becoming Spidey in 1962, he became him in 2000, and a whole new generation of freshly updated stories, that stay true to the original essence of what makes the characters great, was born. It was a rousing success, and the line has expanded to include X-Men, Fantastic Four, and the Avengers (re-christened “the Ultimates,” one of my favourite books.)

Why the comic book history lesson? Why, because for the immediate future, The Kingdom shall be known as the Ultimate Kingdom. I’m just too tired of the real universe, and I feel like using my imagination. I encourage you all to play along, and post-up some ideas for “Ultimizing” the universe. If someone wants to write a whole column about their best “Ultimate” ideas for tomorrow, feel free. But let’s refrain from “flying cars that run on happy thoughts” --ground yourselves in reality. Which means, of course, the Democrats still have their heads up their collective asses. Though Kerry can be President, if you like.

The Kingdom might as well be a dream world, right?

I'll start: there are absolutely NO sports teams in Boston/New England in the Ultimate Kingdom. In fact, the Patriots actually disbanded on November 1, 2004, following a crushing defeat at the hands of the Steelers, who were immediately awarded the NFL Championship. The Super Bowl consisted solely of a three-hour Paul McCartney half time show, though this one was actually pretty good (“Hey Jude” not withstanding) and Slash from Guns ‘n Roses played guitar in “Live and Let Die.”

Also in the Ultimate Kingdom, St. Valentine’s Day never existed.

I lack a Link today, it’s a slow day on the Internet. Everyone’s too bored with Boston winning championships. Just remember, if y’all were that great, you could’ve delivered us a President.

Your Song of the Day is “Volcano” by Damien Rice. Love Damien Rice. Love the strings (bass? cello?) in this one. Basically just love the song. Enjoy.

Be good to each other.

And Welcome to the Ultimate Kingdom!

Also: Where in the World is Adam Boyce Kupchellitis? He never showed/ never made contact with us like he had planned Saturday or Sunday. I’m honestly concerned at this point.

-apk

a final thought: the CD player on my work computer sucks. All it does is skip. Anyone know any magical home remedies for this? And it's not the discs-- they're new.

CRY FOR HELP!

Anyone out there know any SportsGuy email addresses? The one the Intern Contest Form sends to has "permanent fatal errors."

Please help. I've got until 3pm today to send in an entry!
-apk

BOWS AND TOES! -- "The More Things Change..."

Last night was a frat-party flashback, and it was great. I had planned to head to Bar Review and meet up with Gavin, which I did, and luckily, Pizz’s dental buddies cut out on him early, so he headed to O-Town to hang out. As we made our way upstairs in the Pub, I noticed a former Dickinson grad/ Delta Sig, who we’ll call “Thom Ruffage,” setting up a beruit table. Needless to say, I had “next” within seconds. However, I didget delayed a game because apparently a pair of girls had been waiting. I can accept that, I’ve definitely done the same. Oh, and one of the girls was the Queen Bee, my Law School 1L Dream Girl. So there was that. I was even able to sneak in some witty banter while waiting to get on the table. As I told Gavin and Rockney “If God loves me, the girls will win this game.” But, as usual, the Good Lord doesn’t love me, he just loves to tease me. The ladies fought valiantly, losing by one cup. Then it was ON.

For the record, we were playing on terribly short table, six-cups, Bud Light, one&one OR dual throw choice, with throwbacks (meaning yes, Thom, though a solid guy, is still a Delta Sig).

Anywho, remember that movie “Assassins?” The Pizz would be the Stallone to Kupchella’s “Old Mentor that Stallone Had to Kill.” He’s a natural, and a sniper. Really, the only difference between Pizz and Stallone in that movie, is that Kup’s never faked his death only to return for revenge years later. That, and I don’t think Antonio Bandares is trying to kill him. Seriously, though, the kids silent, cold, and deadly, and one of the most naturally gifted beer-athletes I’ve ever seen. I’m pretty sure I drunkenly referred to him as “The Roy Hobbes of Beruit” last night. And if you don’t know who Roy Hobbes is, Google it, watch the movie, and come back. If you’re a guy and you don’t know who Roy Hobbes is, please turn your Y chromosome in on your way out of the Kingdom, and go watch “Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood.” So yeah, Pizz didn’t really CARRY ME (I think I hit 5 of our 12 cups in two games) but he did finish off each game, since I couldn’t hit the loner to save my life. And he did it with STYLE, draining the first ball in the last cup, and then finishing with a little ‘splashdown’ in the pitcher. Did I mention neither of us had played in six months?

We were Undisputed, at 2-0 (the bar shut the table down because too many people were filling into the dance floor) and for 30 glorious minutes, we were “Those guys on the table in the middle of the dance party.” It felt good. Real good. I won’t lie.

Oh yeah, and we put that dirty Delta Sig in his place!* PI CHAPTER, Representin’!

Word.
-apk

*In honesty, Thom’s a good kid, I’m a fan, and I think we’re going to get a game together sometime.

DAILY DOSE: "Another Line Without a Hook"

Woah, lots of Links to play with today. Also, stay tuned for a Wayback-Free installment of "Bows and Toes," coming later this afternoon. It's as though last night, I jumped into the Wayback Machine myself. Good times. So come back for that around, I dunno, 2 or so.

Before we hit up some linkage, today's Song of the Day is "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)" by My Chemical Romance. I'll be honest. I don't think I have a single friend that will like this song, but I don't really care. I caught the video on MTV Hits the other day, and it's sort of funny. More importantly, the song's just downright kinetic, even if it's not that good. Although it is catchy. Basically, i think it's one of those songs that's SO terrible, it's a good thing. Not "Three Little Pigs" good, but catchy and manic.

Moving right along, I couldn't find any really fun links today, so I went back to good ol' CNN for some political stuff. First up is the General that Likes to Shoot People. If Taylor's out there, I'd love to hear him chime in on this guy. In my opinion, though, I don't have a problem if our military leaders like shooting enemies. It's not really my cup of tea, but that's why I'm not protecting our borders. In the words of the great Col. Jessup, "Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be protected by men with guns. Who's going to do it? You? YOU Lieutenant Weinberg?"

Our next Link is yet another science lesson. And the lesson is this: "We Don't Know Shit About Anything." Saturn has HOT Poles, and no one 1) expected it; 2)can explain it. I love stuff like this. Because it just proves how little we know, and how much people 500 years from now will laugh at us.

And finally, the last Link is the best summation I've ever read (okay, the only summation I've ever read) about why throwing is my favourite part of baseball. Now, I know most of you have seen me throw, and an awful lot of you will crack jokes about me throwing softballs over backstops, but the simple fact is that throwing baseballs is one of the things I do best. And there isn't a better feeling in sport than gunning someone down. I guess I like "shooting" people too.

For the record, "Guerrero on the other hand, tends to throw first and ask questions later." pretty much sums up how I used to shoot. Although it was my mechanics that made me good, not pure arm strength, like Vlad the Impaler. Alex Rios's quote that he, "can throw it from the third-base lineover the right field wall when I get going," is DAMN impressive. I can go foul-line to foul-line pretty easily, but OVER the WALL? That was never happening at Dickinson. Our right field wall was the tennis courts, some 700 feet from home plate. We called it "the Green Mile."

Okay, I'll be back later to talk about Beiruit, the Queen Bee, and Delta Sigs. If that doesn't get you to hit "refresh browser," nothing will!

-apk

RANDOMOSITY: "You're Lucky I Didn't See MY Shadow"

I can’t believe I forgot to mention that yesterday was Groundhog Day. I guess that’s what you get when I don’t write rough drafts, and perpetually post stream-of-consciously. In case you missed it, Punxy Phil did, in fact, see his shadow. I was on my way to bus, and I started to think that he’s really cornered the market on safe predictions. Seriously, if I were him, I’d always say “six more weeks of winter,” because that only really takes us into mid-March. The vast majority of you live in the Northeast, and of course realize that winter ALWAYS lasts until mid-March. And hell, even if spring were to come early, it probably wouldn’t come until March 1. And by then, who even bothers to remember what Phil forecasted anyhow? Seriously. This is the stuff that goes through my mind. Nevermind that there was a State of the Union address last night that I missed thanks to $1 Blue Moons. Anyone else think it’s coincidental that the Iraqi elections happened days ago? Talk about cornering the market on anything. What tactics! If the election goes well (which, it did) Dubya gets to toot his horn all by his lonesome, and build momentum. If it didn’t go well, he has an unadultured platform to spin, spin, spin, spin, spin, or just flat out ignore it, announce something big (like Social Security reform, or the outlawing of the colour pink for being “too gay/evil”). Man. I hate the guy, but I’ll give him this, his staff o’ planners is second to NONE. His administration makes Clinton look like a rookie.

Guess I digressed again. It happens. Groundhog Day came and went, I should go to Punxy some time for the party. Speaking of Groundhog Day, anyone else ever notice that Bill Murray’s character is quite deliberately named Phil? I love shit like that. That movie is truly funny, romantic, original, and filled with great performances and one-liners. In all seriousness, I think it’s one of the classic films of the last twenty years. Can any of you see anyone playing that role but Murray? Nope, me neither. And that, my friends, is the mark of a classic.

Okay, I’m out.

Hope that was more interesting that me being reflective.

-apk

DAILY DOSE: "You Were Always Good At Putting Words Together"

Wow. TWELVE comments? For LARA? You guys really know how to make a guy feel special. You know, I'm one to just give her the keys to the Kingdom and walk away. If you like her so much, you can HAVE her.

...seriously though, thanks for the inter-galactic-sized response to the guest star. I know her, and I know she probably really appreciates the attention. And Jack.

Actually, the fact that Lara's column was so simple, yet so effective, just proves how easy it is to be a Guest-Blogger here in the Kingdom. Notice, everyone ignores me on a daily basis, everyone embraces a fresh face. Does this mean I've lost my proverbial fastball? I digress though, the point I'm trying to make is that it's fun and easy to play along! So who's going to be my special scribe next week? And what the hell should I call the guest spot (assuming my dream of it becoming a regular occurance actually happens). Y'know, Lash Lareau, you're opinionated, and one HELL of a writer...I hereby DARE you to step up.

I was thinking of calling the guest column "BRINGING THE RUCKUS: {insert guest's name here}" in honour of my most recent, most favourite catch phrase. Any other suggestions?

Also, I DESEPERATELY need feedback on the Link of the Day. I'm thinking very hard about trying THIS out. In fact, I've written about 450 words for my entry. Which means I have a day to decide, for certain, if I want to give it a run, and also pear down my paper. So check out the contest, tell me if you think I should give it a shot, give suggestions on what I should write about. Hopefully, some of you have read what the old intern did. I have a feeling that Staubby and Banner have read him. And where IS Banner? He, like, totally went DiYanni on us. CONGRATS TO DOM ON THE ENGAGEMENT , by the way.

Another one bites the dust. $tock$ is dead. Long live umm..whomever's next?

Also, R.I.P., Star Trek: Enterprise, my third-favourite TV show, which was cancelled yesterday, and will end production after this season. Moving it to Friday was pretty much the death-knell eveyone knew it would be. MANY Trek-Geeks HATE this series, but I really really loved it. It's pretty much the only Trek since the Next Generation that I had any interest in. And now it's gone. Archer, Trip, and especially the PURE HOTNESS of Jolene Blaylock as "T'Pol," will be sorely missed.

Song of the Day is also from my Jeanie-provided MTSYWT II cd, it's Matt Nathanson's "Loud." So pretty. So sad. A Beautiful disaster. And yes, I'm going to write about that soon, once I figure it all out...

That's about all I've got for you, for now. I'm feeling weird today. Half-wired/half mellow. Half-emotionally despondent/Half-indifferent to the world around me. This will probably make for some quality blogging in a few days, but right now, you're just going to get insipid doldrumy stuff from me. Sorry to disappoint. Basically, it feels like I'm headed for a major change/upheaval in the status quo. Or, more accurately, I'm in the midst of a major period of change. It's sort of harrowing, sort of interesting, sort of boringly-redundant. I don't really know what to make of it, but since Kup left, it's just sort of been a definite closing of a chapter which has had a reverberating effect through a number of my relationships.

I guess as I adjust to the life I built up around me here, that I didn't even realize I had built, it's just kind of weird to get into the swing of things. I'm still sort of slowly processing it all, I guess. Also, I'm not really speaking to two pretty important people in my life, which I won't go into, but it's got me more than a little drained.

Ah well. C'est la vie. At least Kup's coming to visit this weekend (I think) which should be the re-energization that I desperately need.

I'm going to go do some work. Really- follow the Link and let me know what you think. How could would it be if I actually WON and got to be the Sports' Guy's Intern?

-apk

Guest Star Tuesday: Lara Brings the Ruckus

Well, y'all know the drill-- there's just not enough time on Tuesdays for me to get anything posted, so I'm trying to make it "Guest Star" day here in the Kingdom. The lovely Lara, a long-time reader of my ramblings, has proven up to the challenge-- can you?

Also, Happy Half Birthday TO ME. Please send certified cheques and next ex-girlfriends to the appropriate address. Thanks!

The Link and Song are BOTH brought to you by Lara-Love, and the Song is "Ahrn At This Bar- Ceann Na Caca" (i have no idea what it is) available HERE. Apparently, it's funny, and lyrics include, "Yinz want a beer n'at? There's Ahrn at this bar."

And now, Herrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeee's Lara

Hey hey kids. Happy Tuesday. Our buddy Adam is taking the day off and passed the proverbial torch over to me, Lara. You may remember me as “The Supreme Comandress of all Hippies” (thanks to Uram and “Going Postal”), you may not…either way, it doesn’t matter. The point is that Adam left me no choice but to come up with something clever by a 9a.m. deadline. Wow. What a mistake!

So, for lack of a fresh and original idea, I’m just going to go ahead and start listing stuff that pisses me off…it’s been a tough couple of weeks…and then perhaps, in the grand tradition of The Blog, you, the faithful readers will respond with stuff that also pisses you off. It’ll be like a therapy session, free of charge, but without the added benefit of prescription medication (eh, you can’t have it all).

1. I wouldn’t be The Supreme Comandress of All Hippies if I didn’t start this list off with the bane of my existence: George W. Bush. Yes, yes, he is evil and he is stupid and the middle half of the country should certainly be blown up for re-electing this ass president, but the man has injured me personally. I work at a Damon’s Grill and we have ridiculously large screen TVs in the “club house”. One day as I was walking past, there he was, The President, blown up, his monkey face staring at me…and the shock of seeing him so oversized and so close up made my bite my mouth. I’m pretty sure there was blood. I won’t get started on his politics- that’ll take too long. It’s enough that the bastard made me bleed. God, I hate him.

2. Tom Brady/Steelers “Fans”- Man oh man, do the Patriots ever piss me off. Although I may be slightly clouded by bitterness regarding the Steelers’ recent loss, I am still lucid enough to know that bad things should happen to Tom Brady. Now, I don’t hate him like I hate GW, but I do hate him enough to wish him broken wrists and twisted ankles. Now, the Steelers’ “fans”, they’re even worse. You can’t support your team all season and then bail because they lost. I also wish broken wrists for you too.

3. Bills- Man, I know that paying bills is a part of “growing” up…but why do there have to be so many of them!!! My gas bill this past month was $204.00…keep in mind that two weeks of that month the temp was set to 55 (Christmas vacation) and the other two weeks it was set to 62. Now, you tell me, how does that equal $204??? If I’m going to be paying that much money, I’d like to be warm dammit!!! Also in the bills category: student loans. I have three of them, one of which I just found out I haven’t been paying on. Ha ha ha Lara. No credit for you.

4. Horatio- no one knows Horatio*. He’s an assistant manager at Damon’s…although, to talk with him, you’d think he thinks he was God. Believe me, he’s not that cool. Did you ever have a manager type that was so full of him/her self, so freaking high up on a pedestal that he/she got nose bleeds? Yeah, that’s this guy. On any given day he probably makes 5 bucks more than me per hour- I’m pretty sure that I shouldn’t have to take any shit from this guy. I need a new job so I can tell him to shove it. That’d be great.

That’s only four things that piss me off. There are more: Comcast, The impossibility of ever completing a Sunday morning New York Times crossword puzzle (without help), Gas prices, Drinking too much and “lara-ing” everywhere, My general lack of automotive knowledge….
See, it’s fun to bitch. Now you try. And have a happy dayJ
-Lara

*Names have been changed to protect us from litigation.