Monday, January 29, 2007

You Mean, Some People Still Value Their Parents??

Me: "I wouldn't just want you to move up here to Chicago for the closeness. I could use a roommate to split these bills with too. I'm holding out hope that I can possibly talk you into moving in with me in the future."

My 40-year-old girlfriend: "My mom would absolutely kill me!"

She is just too precious.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Nothing More To Add To This

I Might Actually Have Made A Correct Prediction

That was some ugly-ass football played at Soldier Field on Sunday, and I didn't even see it happen. I was working, and my Walkman wasn't getting good AM reception where I was stationed, so I had to listen to the first half on the FM feed--in Spanish. But even then, I could tell that the Saints-Bears NFC title game was fugly because there was a steady rhythm of crowd cheering, crowd deflating from a bad Rex Grossman throw or a run play that didn't work, followed by the polite clapping after another Robbie Gould field goal. And the Saints managed to rack up almost 400 yards of offense by the 3rd quarter but couldn't put more than 14 points on the board. That's actually hard to do. I was at home watching the Seahawks-Bears game the week before, and I spontaneously yelled out at least 5 times during that game, "This conference sucks!", because the Seahawks should have lost to the Cowboys if not for Tony Romo getting Carrie Underwood's pussy juice on his fingers and letting the ball slip through at the last second, and now they were going toe to toe with the NFC's "best," Da Bears. And I'm sure I would have yelled something about the NFC sucking another 12 times if I had to watch that game Sunday. How Rex Grossman managed to not throw the ball to the other team 8 times like he had done in half the games in the regular season is beyond me. But they did it, and now the town is in a holding pattern for the next two weeks until the big game in Miami on February 4. I already have the day off.

This is actually bringing back fun memories of the Super Bowl Shuffle Bears from 22 years ago, when I was 9 years old. It's not exactly the same because this team has so many holes, it's very hard to imagine them going all the way. I would have never picked this team to make it this far, so this isn't quite as joyous, but it's still cool to live through. Back then, in 1986, we all expected the Super Bowl to be the coronation of one of the great teams ever, yet there was still a bit of nervousness because, being Chicago, we were used to coming close and falling short--the White Sox in '83, the Cubs in '84, and the Bulls were nothing at the time. It made the win over New England so much sweeter because the Bears were holding up Chicago where the other teams had failed. I was trying to save my bag of Soft Batch chocolate chip cookies and 2-liter of Pepsi for the game itself, but they were consumed before the kickoff, if I recall correctly. I fought off the nausea from being nervous and swallowing that much sugar to cheer like crazy throughout the whole slaughter. And I still have the Super Bowl Shuffle on vinyl.

This will be a different story. The Indianapolis Colts are not those New England Patriots, who were lucky to make the Super Bowl. Peyton Manning is not Steve Grogan, nor is he Tony Eason. And most importantly, these Bears are not almost perfect killing machines like those monsters in '86. There's no Fencik in our secondary to make receivers pay for going over the middle. There's no McMahon under center to coolly perform under pressure. And there's no overmatched team on the other side of the field. The Colts, unfortunately, can play. I picked the Colts to win it all before the playoffs began, and I'm sticking to my guns. I'm calling Colts 38, Bears 13.

And I'm guaranteeing that the Bears will fuck me over and win because I'm putting money on the Colts. I'll be watching the whole way with my Soft Batch cookies and Pepsi. Go Bears!

Friday, January 19, 2007

Another Wrestler Gone In A Flash

Completely unprovoked, I watched a Bam Bam Bigelow pro wrestling match I have on tape against Taz Wednesday just because it's one of my favorite matches. I missed watching Bigelow wrestle, because he was a good 350 or 360 pounds but moved around the ring with freakish agility while still fighting a stiff style that made every move seem like it hurt like hell, which it probably did. Bigelow was found dead in his home this morning in Florida at the age of 45. The medical reports are not available yet, but it almost doesn't matter. An enormous number of pro wrestlers, by nature of their occupation, feel the need to take enough painkillers to make every horse in the Kentucky Derby drop dead. With no evidence whatsoever, I assume Bigelow was no different. It catches up to you eventually. Maybe not after a year, maybe not after a few years, but eventually your body adds up all the things wrong with it that you don't know about because pain, which warns your body that something is wrong, is not being felt due to the numbing medicine you're piling into your system. The funny thing is, if Bigelow had died ten years ago, before literally dozens of wrestlers started dying suddenly at very young ages, some folks could have looked at his size and tossed off some aside about trying to be an athlete at his weight catching up to him. Believe me, it wasn't his fucking weight that killed him. It wasn't weight that killed the 210-lb. Eddie Guerrero in his early 40s, the 235-lb. Curt Hennig in his early 40s, the 280-lb. (mostly muscle) Mike Hegstrand (Road Warrior Hawk) in his early 40s, the 230-lb. Chris Candido in his 30s...I could go on forever. But it's easy for me to rail against painkillers because I never had the balls to go for the brass ring and pursue a career as a wrestler. If I had, who knows what measures I would go through to maintain my "spot" and keep living my dream. But I have a feeling that if those in charge of wrestling would have a heart and provide health care for their employees instead of calling them "independent contractors" and turning their backs on them, better alternatives could be provided than 20 soma pills and a bottle of vodka.

Monday, January 15, 2007

Very Loose Change

As we pause and observe my fellow Capricorn homie Dr. King's birthday, here's a short little reminder that black folks are still viewed as potential marks that can be taken advantage of by some people. My purchase at the convenience store on the first floor of my work building last Friday morning came out to $1.60. After I hand him two dollars, the young clerk, who along with the two or three other older men who have worked the register in the past appears to be of Arab heritage, loudly yells out "FORTY!" as he hands me a quarter and a nickel. I actually had to take a minute to decide whether I wanted to fight over the fucking dime, long enough for him to ring up another customer. But when I finally protested, he was ready. I didn't get the words "Uh, this isn't forty" out of my mouth before he says "SORRY" and hands me the dime, never mind that I never even told him how much I was missing. Dating back to when new ownership took over the local grocery store when I was growing up, this now makes a good seven or eight times that Arab store clerks have shortchanged me. It's really funny how every time they get my change wrong, it's always an error that results in me getting less money back than I should. Some people look at a big black guy with headphones and a baseball cap and assume that he can be taken advantage of. This is one of the reasons why I have always worn that same outfit. I like when folks discover that I'm not a chump and that I have a brain of my own. Dr. King's dream was for people not to be judged by the color of their skin. I'm a natural pessimist, so I say, not in this lifetime. But I still hope that I'm proven wrong someday.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Why Is It All About The Big O?

Look, I'm not trying to deny my manhood and my nature, but my most recent trip to visit my girlfriend on New Year's ended with me begging her for a hand job and her obliging, and I've been battling the feeling ever since that I'm a pig for asking a virgin who's waiting to have sex until she's married to get me off. And it's got me wondering, why am I built that way where she and I can't have a petting and kissing session in her bed without me begging her to get me off? I feel like I should have been happy making out with my girl without having to have an orgasm. After all, she didn't ask me to get her off. She waited until after I left town. I feel like I should have had the decency to do the same.

Now, she didn't seem to be against the idea, I just don't think it was good judgment on my part. See, we had not been past first base before this trip. The last time I saw her in September, we kissed for the first time, and I couldn't resist tasting her neck, but that was it. And we had not discussed doing anything further this time. But because we wanted each other and missed each other badly, one thing led to another, and on the second day of my three-day visit we found ourselves topless on her couch utilizing her jar of honey. Then, an hour before she was going to take me to the airport so I could go home, she asked me to lay in her bed with her just to feel what it would be like. Eventually, we couldn't resist the urge to start dry-humping like teenagers. This got me so aroused that I asked her to touch my penis because I wanted to take the feeling of her hand home with me. Well, she rubbed it through my jogging pants, but I don't believe she ever intended to actually touch it. I was driven so crazy by her rubbing that I pulled my pants down so that she could touch it skin to skin. She didn't refuse, and not long after that, I came in her hand.

My problem is that I feel like an animal for pulling my pants down. I really don't think she expected to give me a hand job this soon in our relationship. I mean, waiting until marriage to have sex means another two or three years minimum, and I don't think she had plans to play with a man's penis before then. Like I said, she didn't disapprove, and she's been very supportive, saying that she wanted everything that happened to happen or else she would have stopped it. But I can't imagine after rubbing my penis and seeing how excited she was making me that she could have possibly turned me down once I whipped it out. I just feel that, knowing she has no sexual experience, I should have been more mature and waited until she expressed a desire to see or feel my dick. But no, my train of thought as a man was: "Ugh, I have hard-on, I gotta cum now, ugh..." I have had sex in situations where I didn't cum because I was so focused on satisfying my partner, so it's not like every time I make out with a woman, she's gotta get me off. But this one time, I feel like I was weak and didn't have any willpower. Well, at least I gained some more insight into why I have never made the first move in the past--I have always waited for the woman to take command and show me exactly what she wants in order to avoid this feeling that I'm a big fat ogre with no self-control.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

I'm Picking The Colts To Win The Super Bowl Because...

...there is no New England-like defensive juggernaut to intimidate the Colts into shitting the field and playing like scared little girls. It was clear the last few years that Patriots coach Bill Belichick and his defensive schemes were in Colts QB Peyton Manning's head, as witnessed by Manning's horrific performances in playoff games against NE. But a defensive scheme is only as good as the athletes trying to execute it, and New England no longer has the horses to execute Belichick's plans. This ain't the same New England squad, not by a long shot. Baltimore seems to have rediscovered its magic on defense, but they're old, and I'm not convinced that they can shut down the Colts at this point in their careers. The Colts have rung up disappointment after disappointment in the playoffs, mostly because Manning and coach Tony Dungy are two of the legendary chokers in the game. But last year took the cake--damn near perfect regular season only to lose at home to Pittsburgh in their first playoff game. I really think they're going to come out in this year's playoffs pissed off and poised to redeem themselves. And one more point: Everybody knows that the Colts have the worst run defense, like, in history. But NFL coaches aren't bright enough to take advantage. There was a game recently where the Carolina Panthers had to start their backup QB, Chris Weinke, whose NFL record at the time was an atrocious 1-17. So since he obviously sucked, they decided to minimize his involvement in the game, and he only threw 7 passes, unheard of for a starting NFL QB. This should be the game plan for any coach facing the Colts--run, run, run, and don't even think about passing unless you feel you have no choice. But since the other QBs in the AFC are either average or above average, no other coach is going to go to such a strategy, and as a result, they will all be looking up at the scoreboard at the end of the game, wondering, "How did we lose that game??" It's finally time for Manning and the rest of the Colts to start playing football in the postseason as flawlessly as they play it in the regular season. I'm calling Colts over Cowboys in the Super Bowl.

Of course, before the season I called Panthers over Jaguars, and neither team even made the playoffs, so clearly, I'm really stupid. Keep that in mind when I feel the need to make predictions.