Down with the fancy!

I started this blog with high hopes.
Not sure what exactly that means, but in an effort to achieve said hopes... I've tried to make long/interesting blogs.

I realize that I've succeeded in only one of those 2 things.

And it wasn't very interesting along the way.

So as they say... less is more.
Well, I don't really care... but I'm posting less....... words.. that is.

This past weekend I went to the The Taste of Chicago.
It was good. I had food, and beer. Then water next to a fountain.

I also rode a tall wheel like contraption.

Here's pictures. Yey

 

   

There are only four words in the English language which end in "dous": tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, and hazardous.

These 4 words describe my week/month.

As you could probably tell... I've been in a bit of a slump as of late.

To remedy this I've done absolutely nothing... other than showing up to league with more determination to win, then when I lose... it just hits that much harder.

I decided I'm going to start practicing at least 1 day out of the week, other than league day/nights.
When I was playing reallllly well, I was doing 1 particular drill that I bailed on for some reason. So I'm going back to that drill.
I played a little yesterday, and the drill was miserable. It's a drill that you can see immediate results and gauge fail points. At least, that's what it does for me.
Maybe I'll diagram it sometime

So since the last time I've graced the blog world with my presence I've lost every game, except 1... but that's because I was playing someone that had only watched pool... but never played before.
Go me! Way to beat up on the little people!!

Anyway...

Tuesday night league was interesting.
I walked in about 3 racks into the first match. We were down by 1 and it was 2 skill level 6's playing the match.
Our score keeper was a 5, as was the score keeper of the other team.
After being there long enough to get a beer a small argument arose from the match table.
Apparently the team Captain (also the score keeper) of the other team mentioned something about neither player (of the match) actually playing like a 6 because neither was attempting to make a ball, and break out a cluster at the same time.
Both players were offended by this comment "I'm not a 6? Who the hell are you? You're a 5! Who are you to tell me I'm not a 6?"

This slowly escalated over the course of 2 hours. Eventually the team mate of the other team quit the jack ass captain's team, joined our team... meanwhile the argument turned into a personal insult fest.

This continued for about 40 something minutes... and then the jack ass captain said something about "blah blah you're a f---ing woman"

Moments later my team's player had lifted the captain 2 feet off the ground, slammed him to the floor... maintaining a solid grip of his shirt he proceeded to hit the guy several times in the face.

I drank my beer.
Another guy from my team walked over and pulled our guy off, in doing this it gave the opportunity for the other jack ass captain to squirm away, but he wasn't fast enough.
Our guy was able to kick him in the head at least 2 times... the 2nd impact solidifying a cold knock out.

I still had half a beer left.
moments later a guy that works at the pool hall came over asking what's going on and why this guy is sleeping on the floor. This must have woke him up, because he jumped up like he had just returned from a tennis match in Vegas. Sweaty and out of breath. Unaware that he was just run over by a bus.

Three quarters of my team had left the scene at this point...
I finished my beer

Over the course of the next 45 minutes about a dozen people came over and asked what happened and why there was a fight.

I got another beer
I didn't answer these inquiries... just smirked and took another drink

There were about 2 or 3 others that were nearby that happily described what happened, insult for insult, hit for hit.

I drank my other beer

I'm sure that next week someone will tell me that there was a huge bar fight and it was 3 against 5 people and the cops showed up and had to shoot a guy in the foot to make him stop swinging a golf club at people.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's tax season again... so I did my taxes... and my state taxes said "give me your state driver's license ID"... I didn't have one from this state because I moved recently (9 months ago is recent, sorta... right?)
So I went to the DMV and had everything I needed, because I called in advance.
Birth Cert, Piece of mail addressed to me... current picture ID... and $10 bucks.
I called ahead and made sure I was ready to rock. I even know the traffic laws incase they pop quizzed my ass.

Bastards.
They failed to inform me that I needed my SSN card too. The bastards.
I ask what time they close (5:30pm) and head out.
I now have to go all the way home, get a little card that doesn't have any picture on it, and then go ALL the way back... it's 1:45pm and I'm a guy... so I go to subway real quick to eat along the journey.

After subway I go back out to the car and realize that I smartly locked my keys in the car.

The spare, is also inside the car.
because I'm smart.

So I look around to see who might mug me, it's 2pm and a beautiful day... so I'm good there. I continue the survey to find who might arrest me for breaking into my own car. Right outside of the DMV, this is a concern.
In my reconnaissance I see a grocery store... Food Mart or some crap. Some all food type of place, never been in one so they MIGHT (read Doubtfully) have wire clothes hangers.

I also see an Ace Hardware store. I know where I'm going... straight to ace.
I walk into ace and instead of wasting time wandering around not eating my sammach, I ask the girl at the counter

"I'm looking for something long and skinny, like a wire hanger to unlock a car door... can you point me in the right direction?"

"Did you lock your keys in the car?"

"noo...." with shameful face indicating "yes! now give me a hanger!"

"Oh, ok. If you had I would have called a free service for you."

"Free service what? Yeah... I did actually, lock my keys, cause I'm smart."

So she gives me the number and I call... 1 1/2 hour wait. Jesus. I tell the phone "Oh wow, I just noticed a wire hanger next to my tire. Cancel the order! Thanks" -click-

Back to ACE, which was a failure because everything that would be possibly suitable was $10 plus... and I wasn't going to pay that much if I didn't absolutely HAVE to.

I wander over to the grocery store because I'm getting really hungry, and I don't want to leave my food in the shade of my car.

There's squirrels about...

Apparently this place stocks their shelves in the middle of the day on Wed. So there's a ton of boxes filling each aisle... it's like walking through a kingdom of cardboard when you're 6 and you made your own little clubhouse in the living room.
You remember.

Anyway, I found a skinny box and decided to make it work for me. Heading to the fruit dept. I grabbed like 20 little twisty ties.

Walking out the door I was stopped by a cashier... "sir, are you going to pay for that box?"

Pausing, I looked at the box... then at her... saying "no thanks" I continued my journey to the door.

Since it's a nice day I have about a 1 inch gap in my window to work with. I poke the box in... not gonna work.
I rip the box up a bit... poke poke, poke... no dice
I rip the box some more... poke fail, poke... no dice
I take the twisty ties and add strength and angle to the cardboard... slide, poke, -click-

My makeshift key:

It's a beautiful day. So I get in, eat subway and head home.
After I get back to the DMV ssn card in hand I arrive just in time at 5:21pm, get my number and since there's not a soul in front of me... get called right up.

I explain that I need to get a state license or whatever and she says "no"
I say "why"

She says "because we close at 5:30"

I point to the clock and say "What time is it?"

She says "5:22"

I say "And what time do you close?"

She says "5:30"

I say "5:30 pm Right? Like in 8 minutes... There's time, I need a license"

She says "Sorry, you should have come earlier"

I say "I did come earlier. I also called this morning and verified the documentation I needed to get a license. That person just happened to leave out the fact I needed this little blue card. Then when I was here earlier, in this very same spot, 3 hours ago, YOU told me I needed an SSN card. YOU also told me that I have 8.. now 7 more minutes before you closed.
I'd like to get a state license so I can do my taxes, please."

She says "sorry, you'll have to come back tomorrow. There's not enough time today."

I hate the DMV.

Avoiding the Nazi's and challenging cartwheels

I've been reading this book by Chuck Palahniuk... same author as Fight Club (the book before the movie). It's called "Choke." About 260 pages in total and it's damn good so far.
I've read 4 or 5... maybe 6 books by Chuck, and all of them have been great.
Except 1... "Diary"... Garbage.

Anyway... So the other day I had to fly from Denver back into the Chicago area so I could do the whole family food thing.

Forecast today:
Denver... Sunny at 45 F
Chicago... Blizzard hell with a chance of warmth inside a building.
So the flight was delayed about 30 minutes, no biggy.

During the first half or so of the flight, crammed between a pre-med student studying sexual reproduction, and to my right was a "let's move around a lot with no consideration of the 1/2 inch space between me and anyone around me"... I was reading this book, Choke. Since I woke up at something like the ass crack of dawn o'clock in the morning... I was a bit tired.

Now, if you've ever been on a plane... you know what turbulence feels like.
For those of you who don't... here's a little summary.
Think of a roller coaster. One of those wooden ones. Add a blind fold, and get in.
You feel the roller coaster jerk and rattle as it leaves the docking station... lean back as it pulls the carriage up the first hill... and then it reaches a plateau, but you still feel a bit of the jerking and rattling.
This rocking and rattling and jerking of the seat is turbulence. It's pretty random, and usually accompanied by a small whimper of the person in the seat behind you or a child's high pitched scream 6 seats back.

After the plane took off the air above the first 5 or something states was solid, no turbulence, comfortable... and sleep worthy.
But I forged on, and read a whopping 30 pages or so before I found myself re-reading the same page over and over, and still not knowing what I just read.
It's like reading the diary of a schizophrenic. Word salad.
Your mind sees "Discount trees from sleep food 75 duck empty ticket," but the words on the page read "When the server presented the $75 bill, you could just pay with the coupon."
That's what it's like. Craziness. And not very conducive to understanding what's happening in a book you're enjoying, so I went to sleep.


At some point in my dream world the teen settled down, closed the windows and went to sleep. The pre-med student decided to take a note out of my book as well, and also took to slumber. FYI, this is odd because it's a flight that left at 2pm. That's afternoon time.

So we get near the area of Midway/Chicago/IL/Blizzard/Near Death... and I wake up due to a calming scream several seats in front of me.
I quickly realize the plane is on a hard right turn. Apparently we were under attack from the nazi's of 1944 and our pilot was avoiding the flak cannon fire from below. Then the plane leveled out for a long 0.23 seconds and then swooped into a hard left bank this time. Gravity grabbed my body and pulled me into the pre-med student. My $5 Seven and Seven drink slid across my fold out table thing, catching it just before it spilled across pre-med student's right leg... I took a drink.

Impending doom requires a stiff drink.

Midway airport is conveniently placed in the middle of a suburban area... so as you're landing, you can pretend we're going to undershoot the runway and end up in the middle of someone's living room watching Grey's Anatomy.
After avoiding flak, nazi air-o-planes, missiles and nuclear detonation... we were approaching a 3 story house built in 1985.
Out of the window I see wood paneling, bricks, and a wooden deck fly by. when we get just above the roof tops I feel that familiar roller coaster feeling... turbulence... and I see the wing erch down toward the runway/ground/death.
My thoughts are suddenly filled with cart-wheels and 2nd grade competitions with girls. I never did have a competition with a plane in 2nd grade.

Props to the pilot... We all survived... and are hero's for it.