Today, I celebrate Madonna's new album "Hard Candy". This is a silly video done after I pigged out at a Greek and Lebanese restaurant with the Shrew. As you can see, my dieting is going well. A salad or two a day will do that for you. I am probably five pounds away from my optimum lowest weight. All that is left is in my gut. So, this is who TJ, Jimbo, and Clickboo is receiving in a couple weeks. I hope you boys know how to dance. Cuz I am bringing it!
These are dark days indeed for my widescreen Philips HDTV. He is now like an abandoned lover that hardly gets the scant gaze of my bedroom eyes. Philips has to settle for entertaining the Shrew with Everyone Loves Raymond twice every afternoon on cable. If he's lucky, Philips shows the Shrew the same movie he's just seen last week.
My interests lie elsewhere. What is more exciting than seeing LSU beat Auburn with one measly second left to win the SEC's most heart stopping rivalry? Take that Aubies! Or see fat Fulmer's Tennessee team lose to Florida... AGAIN! Doink.
Without SEC Football, I don't have as much enthusiasm to sit down and watch television. I do seem fascinated by the History Channel's The Universe series. It's the only thing fascinating on television nowadays in my opinion. But maybe I have a vested interest since I am writing a Sci Fi book. Don't ask. That's going at a snail's pace because I keep changing where my story begins.
The great Hillary versus Obama battles are almost as interesting as SEC Football. But now Obama does not want to debate anymore. That's like Alabama not wanting to play Louisiana-Monroe again because the Warhawks beat them 21-14 last year. It makes me want to say, "Ohhhhh Baaaama.... when you get kicked in the balls... you just have to dust yourself off and get back on the playing field." That goes for both Obama and Alagoddamnedbama.
The Republican debates and primaries were predictably one big snoozefest. There was absolutely NO drama and no one cared. If it seemed like an afterthought to you, it's because we all know the next President is going to be a Democrat. Big Ten or ACC football fans must feel like Republicans. They crown their champions, but no one gives a shit because the BCS National Champion will forever now be an SEC team.
So, now I must find some other entertainment to keep me busy. I guess the Mimi versus Madge battle will be the next best thing to SEC football. I am personally rooting for Madonna to beat the snot out of Mariah in first week album sales. I do like Mariah, but her "lambs" fucking annoy me the same way Georgia Bulldog fans do. No, it's not a Bulldog Nation if you can't even beat the South Carolina Gamecocks!
Mariah is such a stat whore anyway. I hope Hard Candy knocks E=MC2 out of the #1 Billboard Album Chart spot with sales more than Mariah got with her 463k. That would be almost as sweet as LSU knocking off #1 Ohio State to win the BCS National Championship. :)
Rapper's Delight I said a hip hop the hippie the hippie to the hip hip hop, a you dont stop rock it out baby bubbah to the boogie da bang bang the boogie to the boogie da beat
Come on you bandwagoners. You surely see that the winds of change are blowing hard for Hillary Clinton. She has the momentum now that the youngsters have moved on beyond the fad of "voting". I expect to see some squirming and back pedaling in the various blog circles. You may start your tap dancing now around your bold predictions that Hillary's campaign was dead in the water.
I said a hip hop the hippie the hippie to the hip hip hop, a you dont stop rock it out baby bubbah to the boogie da bang bang the boogie to the boogie da beat
I swear. Sometimes I can be so damned ditzy! Yesterday, while packing up the SUV to return back to the country, I left a garbage bag FULL of dirty clothes on the curb where I parked. I didn't realize it until after I got home that I was missing my precious clothes. What a Queen's nightmare to be parted with their clothes?! OMG. That's like being separated from your Daemon! I almost shit a brick right there on the spot in front of E.Shrew and my Dachshunds.
What if homeless people started walking around with my Boiish clothes?! That is going to totally fuck up the marketing cool this company's brand image has. Fuck! Santos and Morales are NOT going to be happy.
I frantically went down my cell phone name list to find someone that lived in the French Quarter close to where I parked. I was in a race against time with the sanitation company and homeless people!
Brian and Greg were obviously in the bars drinking because neither one of those old hags bothered to pick up their cell phones. I took the chance of calling a hot boy who once exchanged cell numbers with me. I blogged about him in The Secret to Getting Laid. He was my only hope!
Hot Boy answered after three rings. There was a big lump in my throat and a little nudge in my pants. "Hi, you may not remember me, but my name is Brett and I need a BIG FAVOR!" Now, he could have just hung up the phone right then and there. I was sweating. But he didn't. He recognized my name and knew exactly who he was talking to. Yesss! The power of being a huggy and feely bar fly!
After giving him the location of my wordly treasure, he found the bag of sweaty and smokey clothes within minutes! THANK YOU JESUS! WHEW! I promptly thanked him and told him that I owed him a BIG ONE! Hot Boy told me he was going to hold me to that! Evil Grin. The Shrew didn't think that part was too funny one bit.
So, now I must go back to the French Quarter after work to give up get my booty. Just to make the trip worthwhile, I have scheduled a tennis match against Whipping Boy. This will be a great night. I'll get my orphaned clothes back and thump Whipping Boy AGAIN! Woohoo.
I have received emails asking about those blue shorts I recently posted on my blog. You may have noticed that I poke out in these pics. I promise you that I did NOT tug at my crotch beforehand. You can ask Whipping Boy. I didn't have to! The shorts are quite magically cut to enhance what's already there. You can get you the same shorts in different colors here: Boiish Shorts.
These pics were taken today, when I returned back to the scene of my heartbreaking loss last Sunday. Instead of quitting and swearing off tennis forever, I chose to continue to hone my skills. I played a set of doubles and three sets of singles with the New Orleans Tennis Club. Even though I got outplayed by most of the participants, getting drubbed will only make me a better player in the long run.
In exactly three weeks, I'll be in DC for the first time in my entire life. DC is the city of world famous SUPER STAR Click Boo! I am also very excited about meeting cool cats Jimbo and TJ. And that's not in any special order TJ. I could easily put TJ and Jimbo. I know how much you overanalyze such things. ;)
I have been putting a little OCD into making myself as presentable as possible. Sure, those crow's feet have comeback. I'll just have to have crinkly old man eyes or choose NOT to smile. I do have a goal of losing some 7 pounds of belly fat before I arrive in DC. It wont be easy, because I am a Piggie. Lord knows I panic that those queens in DC may do a pinch test and tell me how I don't meet some standard of acceptable belly fat.
And then there is the grooming. I have been sporting a beard (level 3) for well over a year. What if the more famous hairy faced DC bloggers tell me, "It's just NOT right!" and whip out a ruler. Lord. I have so many pressures confronting me to get everything right. Because they are like so cool with their soy lifestyles and the way they Blowoff others. I am just a country bumpkin pretending to be cool.
Lastly, there is the height issue. I am not 6 feet tall with 200#'s of muscle. Think Napoleon. Please don't pat me on the head and say "Aww... he is so tiny... he's cute!". That'll just make me launch a massive army assault on your precious little town. Yes. Rape and Pillage. Hell, you folks may be into that sort of thing. I'll find out soon!
I have tried to deny it's presence. It sends shivers down my spine when I think how my once glorious blog has gotten sick. It's the comment bug. I don't understand it. Is it too many tennis stories? Too many stories about myself? Too many pics of myself? Is God punishing me? Are my readers punishing me? Why?! Why?! Why?! Is my blog just not that buzzworthy anymore? I am an accomodating guy. Please help me understand how I can better serve you readers.
Count your blessings how fortunate you are. Yes... YOU! You have no idea about the high level of drama, suspense, backstabbing, and underhanded dealing that I have to put up with weekly. I yearn to trade places and live your more humble life.
What am I talking about? I am talking about them. They are out to FUCKING get me! Who are they? They are the members of my tennis league. I have dealt with this bullshit the entire season since I have become the Sharapova of the League. The who? Just know that's she's immensely beautiful, mean as a snake, and will have your balls for lunch on the tennis court. That's me.
Through the first six weeks of league tennis, I held the #1 position out of 72 league members. (please note: originally I thought there were 69 members... but I later found out the true number was "72" because the captains were not counted) The powers that be were NOT happy that I hogged the top spot for so long. They plotted against me by sending in a WOOFY stud to kiss me one fateful weekend to give me the bug. In a few short days, I got congested and ran a fever. Their evil plan worked brilliantly. Boy did I get my ass kicked that week! I tumbled way out of the Top 10 from just one match. Do I hear laughing?!
In the following weeks, I fought and crawled back up to #8. I am a fighter baby! Last week, I kicked ass with my doubles partner and rose to #6 with one more week left in the league. (I can send you doubting Thomases the weblink if you don't believe me.)
Today, I get a phone call that just chapped my ass raw. My doubles partner mysteriously cannot play tonight. They are now substituting in a player that has a piss poor league record. In fact, he plays at the lowest court level in the entire league. You cunty bastards!
Wait... it gets better. I just got the news that they switched our opponents to two individuals who play at the very highest court level in our league. You are doing this to me on the very last week of the league? What a fucking kick to the balls!
Stay tuned for the results of this VERY CHALLENGING match tonight!
Today is Whipping Boy's 48th birthday. To honor his special day, I am putting up two shirtless pictures of myself. This wouldn't shock him one bit. So, happy birthday Whipping Boy! Consider these two pictures as your birthday present because we are in a recession (thanks to ExxonMobil).
Besides making his birthday all about me, I want to bring up Teddy Roosevelt's famous speech at the Sorbonne in Paris on April 23, 1910. Considering our struggles together as Doubles Partners, this speech should serve as a great inspiration for us. The speech is fairly lengthy, but my favorite part is here:
It is not the critic who counts: Not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.
Pictured above from left to right is: Philip, Tom (Whipping Boy), Monte, Coach Tim, E.Shrew, Brian and Greg.
Never underestimate your friends. I was just pouting this morning that no one was going to watch me play in the Finals. To my surprise, I had some of my best friends suddenly show up to cheer me on. It's almost like they all read me bitching about them on my blog just an hour earlier! Having a cheering section is way better than a damned Trophy! I was emotional and very happy seeing some support out there for me.
In the match, I won a hard fought first set 7-6. It was a long battle in the tie-breaker game before I could finally win by two (11-9). We were both huffing and puffing. I think my opponent and I matched up very well in our style of play. In the next two sets, I made some mental mistakes when I chose to go to the net. I shouldn't have done that when I have an opponent that hits as well as Brooke. He had great serves and awesome ground strokes.
He constantly picked on my backhand. I can hit a great backhand sometimes, but it's not a real weapon. I sometimes tense up and hit the ball as if I have T-Rex arms scooping the ball up and returning it. I'll still get the backhands across the net, but it is not going to be as impressive as my forehand. The match ended after three hours of slugging it out under some pretty intense rallies. I lost the match 6-7 (9), 6-1, 6-2. Ugh.
But I did win a trophy! Pictured here is the Tournament Director presenting the Champion trophy to Brooke and Finalist trophy to me. This is my second Finalist Trophy of 2008. Yeah, I am the "runner up" again... but I got some critical points added to my tournament record. That'll ensure I'll be one of the top seeds in future tournaments. One more successful run through a tournament is going to push me into a higher division. But I look forward to that challenge.
Thanks to all of my friends that supported me this weekend. You made this crazy Cajun beam with pride that so many of you showed up to cheer me on. Thanks to Heath for watching me struggle, but ultimately win in the second round. I certainly appreciate it! And special thanks to many tennis players who watched me play this weekend. (Chip, Doug, Steve, Kevin, Jorge, Jerry, Randy, etc.) There were many matches you could have watched, but you chose to watch me play at various times. I appreciate it. You guys ROCK! :)
CHAMPIONSHIP TENNIS MATCH - 9AM University of New Orleans
It's 6:30am. While the rest of the world is sleeping in late, I am up at the butt crack of dawn to play against a High School Volleyball Coach named Brooke. He is a GREAT player. It'll take every ounce of my abilities to even have a chance to beat him. Unfortunately, I only got six hours of sleep. But you bitches don't care. Tennis related posts are ratings losers. It ranks right up there with Lemon Meringue Pies. Only Bama Mike and DBud are rooting for me in the blog world.
My partner and my Tennis Coach may miss my finals. Coach Tim is apparently sleeping in some stranger's bed in the French Quarter, because he didn't come home last night. My other half got in at 2am this morning. I tossed and turned all night wondering when he was going to come home from the bars. He is now laying in the bed dead to the world. Hmpfh!
I emailed my friends and family the schedule of play, directions, and the tournament bracket five days ago. So far, only my friend Heath has come to watch me play. I am disappointed in a few people I thought would at least watch one match. Especially since they live no more than 10 miles away from the facility. Thank God for Heath and a few tennis buddies that were able to watch a little between their own matches.
So, I'll be playing in less than one hour in the finals with no support. Thanks friends and family! You suck. :(
In the second day of the New Orleans Tournament, I had a hard fought match against a very good player named Paul. I was always behind, but stayed in the game. My net play was very good, but I was very sluggish out there since it was hot as hell. I beat him 7-6, 6-4. I was thrilled my buddy Heath showed up to support me. That was sweet. :)
In the semi-finals, I played a guy named Jorge. Whipping Boy had told me to conserve some energy for our big doubles match that was scheduled afterwards. I realized after playing Jorge that I could definitely beat him in the consistency game. I only went to the net a few times and handily beat him 6-3, 6-1 That means I am now in the Championship game on Sunday at 9am. Woohoo
Unfortunately, the person I play is named Brooke and he is steamrolling through the tournament. He and his Doubles Partner, Chip, beat Whipping Boy and I this afternoon in my last match of the day. We were sharp in the first set winning it 6-3, but we went totally brain dead in the 2nd and 3rd sets. We lost 3-6, 6-1, 6-0 in the Doubles semi-finals. Ugh. Chip is now 2-0 against me in Doubles. Lucky Bitch. Grrr...
Tim has driven all the way from Houston, Texas to watch some great tennis this weekend in New Orleans. I will play two singles matches and one doubles match today. Whipping Boy, my doubles partner, has the same schedule. I am so proud of Tom (Whipping Boy). After three tries, he finally got out of the first round of the tournament in spectacular fashion. He ousted his foe 6-0, 6-1. Since I am the #1 seed, I didn't have to play yesterday. I'll keep you guys posted on how we do today with lots of action pics. Wish us luck!
WOW Tennis Courts at University of New Orleans
8:00 am Brettcajun and Whipping Boy Singles Quarterfinals 11:00 am Brettcajun and Whipping Boy Singles Semi-Finals 2:30 pm Brettcajun and Whipping Boy Doubles Semi-Finals
I am NOT in a happy mood today and it's all your mother's fault. Her utter lack of creativity is forcing me to do some spring cleaning. She has made an absolutely muck of my cell phone.
My address book is a complete mess. The biggest offending names are: Brian, Chris, John, Kevin, Michael, and Tony. Stupid me would have never dreamed that there would be four Chris's, four Tonys, five Johns, five Kevins, and six Brians in my life!
The absolute WORST offending name is "Michael". Your mother REALLY sucks!!! It doesn't matter if you go by "Mike", "Mikey", or "Michael", there are too freaking many of you. It's almost like you are all Chinese. Do you realize I have TEN of you in my cell phone?! If I need to call "Mom", I have to scroll through all of you to get to her. So rude.
How can I drive my SUV at 80 MPH and scroll through the same goddamned names efficiently? My brain takes too long to figure out who's who because I don't have last names for everyone. I am sorry, but last names aren't important in a bar!
It is still your mother's problem that I have to fix. She has given me no choice but to put a locale, a profession, a personality trait, or a sexual preference for all of you. From now on, you unoriginal tards will be listed as such on my cell:
Brian AussieBttm Brian HaulAssHall Brian D. Bull Brian Northshore Brian RoidMo Brian Zeitzeuge Chris KrunkMoNOLA Chris PA Bear Cub Chris Realtor Chris YMCA-Wanker John ADDMariahCarey John BOQinFQ John LittleJohn John PhoenixLawyer John PokerBitch Kevin DaHoodKunt Kevin BRGoatRope Kevin ATL Tarheel Kevin PotMo Michael C.E.Ho Michael Evil Shrew Michael Ex-Office Guy Michael N2BlackGuys Michael HairBurn Michael TennisMo Michael LeatherSluz Mike ChicagoBoogieHo Mike FQHotBooty Mike BigNoseItalian Tony BallsDockE Tony ExGrizzley Tony Farmboyz Tony World'sPiece
Being a Gemini and a full blooded Cajun with ADD gives me a bouncy personality that all of you love to hate. I am just too much sometimes. Too much emotions. Too much a smartass. Too much attention loving. Too much shit stirring. Too much.
Well, I have decided to cage some of that personality up a bit and go back on Adderall XR. It was not an easy choice. I had to weigh the pro's and con's and see what was the most important to me at this moment. In the past, I had some very good reasons for trying it and equally good reasons for going off of it. But Adderall XR seems to be exactly what I need right now.
The side effects on me are noticeable. I do tend to be a tad meaner than usual. What I used to let pass, I now confront. Adderall toughens me up a bit. For example, on Sunday I did threaten to drop kick my partner when he pissed me off. He says he was just making a joke. My Adderall XR had me ready to whoop some ass.
It also tends to zap some creativity out of me. I noticed that right off the bat. I used to be able to rattle off a blogpost within minutes. Adderall bounds and gags my inner Gemini and says "THAT POST IS FOR BABIES!" Yeah, it puts away the child and brings forward the more serious adult. That means that sassy DBud is going to continue to drub me in the ratings. Ugh.
Rest assured that Adderall will not change my thinking or feelings. I will still love my friends, my partner, and my Dachshunds. What social stimulations I once needed on a daily basis, no longer feel absolutely necessary. I'll still do nip tugs when I see you, but I'll probably be more picky. If you never gave me a fanny pat, for example, then I may choose to not continue the one-sided foreplay in the bars. Adderall helps me keep track now! :)
Look on the brightside: Some of you may love the ramped up butchness! Or take glee in my high maintenance personality subdued. Or dare I say... welcome the sudden maturity?
This is my doubles partner Michael. He plays in my adult men's league every Thursday night. We teamed up as doubles partners for a Baton Rouge tennis tournament. The competition was fiercer than we ever faced before.
We lost on Friday to a team that should have never been playing in our division. On Saturday, we bounced back against a Father and Son team winning 6-4, 6-3. This morning, we played a very competitive duo and lost 6-0, 6-3. The score in no way represents how competitive the match actually was. Every game but two went to Deuce. We just couldn't seem to close it out.
Something I learned from this USTA tournament is that you have to play with a very high level of consistency AND put almost every shot away. If you don't hit a winner, the other side will gladly show you how it is done.
Next weekend is the New Orleans GLTA Tournament that I will be participating in. The draw will come out soon. I should be the #1 seed based on points in my division. Stay Tuned!
I met my doubles partner, Michael, at 5:30 pm yesterday at a tennis facility in Baton Rouge. We were here for our very first USTA doubles tournament. We were told that we would get the first court that became available since our opponents were already here. Sweet. Especially since my other half had just driven straight there from work to watch us play.
My doubles partner was nervous. Michael told me that he had butterflies in his stomach. I told him to calm down and to just treat this like any other match. He had just won a match with me on Wednesday night and again the next day in league play. Michael should have confidence coming out of his ass!
We noticed that our opponents were NOT the same skill level as us. They should have been playing in the 4.0 Tournament, but they chose to play at our level so they could win easily. You cheating bastards! There were even about 12 people in the stands watching our match and cheering for our opponents. We had the Shrew. I think he clapped twice. Uh huh... good players always have a lot of fans cheering for them. We were toast.
Everything we did seemed like a disaster. They waxed us 6-1, 6-0. I felt bad for my doubles partner. Michael was cursing at himself the whole match and told me that I needed to find a better doubles partner. I was just thinking the same thing, because my play wasn't much help either. :(
My world came tumbling down at precisely 8:44pm, Thursday April 3rd. That was the exact date and time my pride took a hit. I was #1 in my league. My performance in the league caught the attention of many. The bar had been raised. My team captain granted me the honor of playing against much harder competition. There were even five spectators watching this doubles match.
With every miss, the spectators grinned. They were witnessing the demise of the person that had hogged the #1 spot for the entire first half of the season. I knew my game was off. My ego told me that though I was sick, I could still play and do well. I was sweating my ass off as my fever had made an untimely comeback. My game was only off by milliseconds, but it cost me dearly. My doubles partner and I lost in humiliating fashion 6-1, 6-2. Consequently, I fell off the Top Ten leader board into oblivion for all to see.
My ego was beaten to a pulp that night. Doubt had eaten into my confidence in days that followed. Am I even a good tennis player anymore? I wondered. I played doubles two days later to see if I could recover. In four sets, I had only managed to win one. My ground strokes were slower than usual. My confidence at the net (usually a strength) was shaky. Worst of all, my consistency was well short of what I did when I was at my best.
On Wednesday night, I practiced for the first time with my doubles partner to prepare for this weekend's doubles tournament in Baton Rouge. Even though we won 6-3, 7-5, I was disappointed. I somehow expected to win by a greater margin. Our opponents were good, but not great. Too many unforced errors made it a ho hum win.
If we are going to win against the #3 seed tonight, we must play at a higher level. My contribution must be a very high rate of consistency, great serving and spectacular net play. Will the man, who was once great, show up this weekend? Or will I continue to choke from my shaken confidence? Stay tuned.
I have been doing lots of heavy thinking this morning. Music really helps me in a time like this. Here is one song that means a lot to me. "Little Earthquakes" has to be one of my all time favorite albums. It really spoke to me.
Like this song from the album:
"Silent All These Years"
Excuse me but can I be you for a while My dog won't bite if you sit real still I got the anti-Christ in the kitchen yellin' at me again Yeah I can hear that Been saved again by the garbage truck I got something to say you know But nothing comes Yes I know what you think of me You never shut-up Yeah I can hear that
But what if I'm a mermaid In these jeans of his With her name still on it Hey but I don't care Cause sometimes I said sometimes I hear my voice And it's been here Silent All These Years
So you found a girl Who thinks really deep thougts What's so amazing about really deep thoughts Boy you best praya that I bleed real soon How's that thought for you My scream got lost in a paper cup You think there's a heaven Where some screams have gone I got 25 bucks and a cracker Do you think it's enough To get us there
Cause what if I'm a mermaid In these jeans of his With her name still on it Hey but I don't care Cause sometimes I said sometimes I hear my voice And it's been here Silent All These...
Years go by Will I still be waiting For somebody else to understand Years go by If I'm stripped of my beauty And the orange clouds Raining in head Years go by Will I choke on my tears Till finally there is nothing left One more casualty You know we're too easy Easy Easy
Well I love the way we communicate Your eyes focus on my funny lip shape Let's hear what you think of me now But baby don't look up The sky is falling Your mother shows up in a nasty dress It's your turn now to stand where I stand Everybody lookin' at you here Take hold of my hand Yeah I can hear them
But what if I'm a mermaid In these jeans of his With her name still on it Hey but I don't care Cause sometimes I said sometimes I hear my voice [x3]
And it's been here Silent All These Years I've been here Silent All These Years
I'll be honest with you. It's not always rosebuds and Jiggy Dances here. The last four weeks for me have been kind of shitty. I'll just list the shitty things that have happened to me:
1. I get eliminated in the semi-finals in Austin by the #2 seed in a match I should have won. He's all nice to me between games and it fucks with my head. It zaps out the bad ass attitude I carry on the court. I lose 6-4, 6-4 in front of Widow Maker and Whipping Boy.
2. I go to the dentist to get my teeth cleaned, and they apparently see dollar signs when I come in. Apparently a wisdom tooth here and a tooth there needs $1,000 worth of repair work. UGH.
3. The LSU Lady Tigers lose by 1 point after the evil Lady Vols scored with 7/10ths of a second left on the clock. LSU was winning with 7 seconds left in the game. UGH. Now, Large Tony will forever hold this over my head.
4. I start hacking up phlegm and get congested. I run a small low grade fever, but choose to play anyway because I am the #1 player. Or I was. We get waxed 6-1, 6-2. I tumble out of the Top 10 after this DISASTROUS match.
5. My other half takes up residence with me. Coincidentally, my crow's feet has returned and there is hair loss. He's rapidly inducing the aging process!
6. I lose the Jiggy Dance Whore Off. Well, at least I came in a close second place. But I am bitter losing to older queens.
Since I'll be in DC in six weeks, I want to reverse my karma before I arrive looking like Gollum. So, I launched a campaign to reverse these horrible series of events. Last night, I worked out for the first time since January 29th. I know because that is what the computer told me when I scanned my gym card. BLUSH. It felt good to work out again. Something about a good work out gives me the endorphins I need.
Then this morning, I went back to the gym and worked out different muscle groups. It feels GREAT to be back! I already feel my body responding to this change in a positive way. Let's hope my series of bad luck comes to a screeching halt.
Patrick and his hubby Daniel! Congratulations guys. You ran a very smart and competitive campaign. Those bus loads of lesbians you trucked in really helped you edge out the others. My spy satelitte caught one of your lesbian army outposts here.
I tried in vain to whore myself out in some of the skivviest places on Earth like Twitter, but I ultimately failed. Even the taunting emails to Patrick's campaign staff to lower their morale didn't work! UGH! I lost despite all of my dirty campaign tactics. Hillary Clinton would NOT be very proud of me right now. (Cause I lost... not my tactics)
CB probably had the best dance video. Those were cool moves and I loved the hair style. CB used a blog post and his mancunt to secure votes from all his manhunters. He was a steady vote getter. Every once in a while, he would get a butt load of votes one right after the other. I was impressed by the power of his mancunt.
Kelly ran a vigorous campaign and had a fun video. It is hard not to resist playing that video over and over to try to catch a glimpse of his pee pee. My campaign staff laughed when Kelly made a desperate plea for last minute votes. But Kelly got the last laugh, because he really pulled in a lot of votes from that post. Good try sweetheart! You turned in very respectable numbers considering the quality of your video. ;)
Finally, I would like to thank all of the voters, commenters and the participants in this Whore Off Contest. It takes a lot of guts to participate in any contest on THIS blog. Trust me. Everything always seems to go to cuthroat and competitive here. It becomes a popularity contest that goes downhill and everyone wishes they hadn't participated. Is it me? Or my personality? ;)
Don't worry, there is always Homer or Moby around to step in and scold me whenever I carry it too far. I think they are like the Blog Sheriffs in town. Since I didn't win, maybe they'll be lenient this one time.
Tonight, the LSU Lady Tigers play the most successful women's college basketball team in history of the sport... the Tennessee Lady Vols. They are led by a great coach Pat Summitt. LSU Men's and Women's team are each 0-4 in the Final Four. They never got a chance to make it to the Championship Game before. The great basketball gods just do not seem to be with our teams.
Will this time be different? It may be. Tennessee's star player, Candace Parker, is not 100% healthy. LSU has a stellar senior class making their 5th Final Four in a row. With this experience, I see no problem with the LSU Lady Tigers defeating the Lady Vols for the second time this year. This should be a GREAT game on ESPN tonight. Check it out!
Good luck to the most worthy team! I know this cool cat will be watching! Just remember... it takes a team from Tennessee to put an LSU team in the Championship Game! ;)
Are you guys ready for another Jiggy Dance Whoreoff? I am! Since I am spending the whole weekend in the country, I'll have plenty of time to produce yet another Jiggy Dance. Can your video blow mine out the water?
What is a Jiggy Dance? It is just an expression of joy and silliness with music in the background. You can show off your cool dance moves. Or your superb lip synching ability. If you are like me, don't bother because the queens will call you out on how terrible you are at it. Just smile and look pretty, suck-in for dear life, and wink at the judges. It works for me! ;)
CB is interested. Gooster may do it. Kelly is eager. How about you? If enough of you have the balls to participate, the deadline to send me the link to your video will be late Sunday night. On Monday, I'll have a poll up to where we can vote on the best video.
Please let me know if you are interested. I'll update this blog if others are brave enough for the challenge.
Tonight's grudge match is shaping up to be a very important league match for me. Since I am still the #1 player in league with the highest winning percentage, my team captain has once again moved me up the lineup to play against the best players. I even get the marque starting time of 7:30pm. That is a time slot typically reserved for the best players in league.
My opponents are going to be the toughest I have yet to face. They both hit ground strokes with plenty of pace and spin. I am really most worried about their serves. Both of my foes are known to put a little magic trickery on the ball. That is going to be something I have to prepare for. Since I typically play the forehand side, I get the brunt of those awesome serves.
I am a wee bit worried about my physical condition for tonight though. I was coughing up phlegm last night. It seems like I am congested from either kissing someone over the weekend or recieving an office bug.
Regardless, I am not going to pussy out of playing tennis tonight. I am a warrior. Warriors fight through their pain and discomfort to the bitter end. That's what Andy Roddick would do and he is my hero.
I have postponed this day as much as I could. No more running from it now. The Day of Dread is officially here upon me. The Shrew and I start officially living together today. Sniff. Sniff. Waaa Waaaa Waaaaaaa. Can you pass me a handkerchief? Please?
Am I being a drama queen? Before you answer that, just put yourself in my shoes for one hot minute. On my way to lunch today, I was listening to Madonna's "Four Minutes To Save The World". I had flashes in my head of cool dance moves for a brand spanking new Jiggy Dance. (cuz you know this white boy can dance) I smiled. It was going to be a hoot!
Then the Widow Maker called. Umm... that's his new name on my blog from now on. It is time I update what he represents to me. Out with E.Shrew. In with Widow Maker.
Apparently, the Widow Maker thinks today would be the perfect day to go to Sam's Club to stock up on things like tooth paste and toilet paper. For Christ Sakes! I have bored my blog readers enough with basketball and smiling-with-Daddy-Kev pics all week. They need a pick-ME-up!!! But I can't do that now can I?
Psst! Let's go to a safer place to talk. Get under my blankie so I can tell you a sssecret! Don't worry. I have a flashlight! I whisper: I am convinced the Widow Maker is hellbent on dulling me down and killing my inner child!
Yes! It's true! Can you imagine the dire consequences this has on the human race?! Must my inner child be killed for the sake of humanity? Or is it a beacon of hope for so many out there in the blogworld?