The Most Mediocre Site Ever!

Friday June 17, 2005
This will forever be known as the spite post. Matt “called it” that I would stop updating my site. Well here I am bitch! Yes, I suck, it took entirely too long for me to post something, especially since there were a couple of funny things that happened in the interim. For this post, I’ll give you all the long (and I mean LONG) story of how Matt is a “moron.”

Matt, Josh, the Fiancée, her sister Christie and I decided that a pleasant way to spend an evening would be to take in a Phillies game. We drove to the game, Matt, Josh and I in my car, and the Fiancée and her sister in their car (because they live in the opposite direction that I do). Following the advice of my Dad we thought we’d park in this lot near the Phillies stadium, grab a couple pizzas from a place in the strip mall, and walk to the game. On the way in I happened to notice a sign that you may be towed and that they’d charge you $75 to do it. I figured we would be safe to park because we were purchasing something from the mall, hence the reason they offer you a lot to park in and that I had parked there before without repercussions (albeit several years before this time). So we go to the game (which the Phillies won). The only point of interest for those of you who aren’t sports fans was that the Fiancée had a mini panic attack and decided that you can now add “Escalators at the Phillies Game” to things that she wants no part of (along with any kind of needles, waves in the ocean despite being an expert swimmer, sock puppets…etc.)

We caught the Chickie and Pete’s shuttle (a local favorite Philly area restaurant/bar) back to the parking lot after the game. We pulled into the parking lot, and I noticed the cars were not there. Next thing I noticed was the Fiancée squirting lemon juice into my wound, saying, “I KNEW we were going to get towed” Sigh, aww thanks Sar! Regrouping, and thinking to myself that since it was my idea to go to the game and (at least partly) my idea to park in the lot, I’d pay for Christie’s car as well as my own. All in all I figured I’d made a $150 mistake—unfortunately I was wrong. When I went to look at the sign to figure out where I had to go I saw that the sign actually said a tow cost $175. I hate to equate every pain I have to either being kicked in the nuts or being ass-raped, but these seems appropriate in this case. But it gets better: I call and now I have to deal with a surly guy from the towing company. He quickly informed me that instead of just being a $350 mistake, I now have to pay an additional $25 on each car for “overnight holding” (they could not have had the cars for longer than an hour at this point). If you’re keeping score at home this runs that tab for this evening (parking only) to $400. Then the guy on the phone starts copping an attitude with me because he put me on hold and hung up on me and I called back and had the audacity to ask where the garage is. So I ask him if I need to take a cab, or if it’s in walking distance. He says I can walk it, and gives directions and informs me “I’m only giving you directions once so you better write them down.” At this point I’m thinking how can I write it down if my pen is in my car? So we begin to walk; through a not very good neighborhood. The Fiancée says we should take out some cash in case they don’t take credit cards. I decide against it because I don’t want to carry around $400 in cash through a bad neighborhood at night, and I figured that the towing company could not possibly expect people to carry around that much cash to pay for towed car (especially at $200 a pop).

So we’re walking, and I mean for awhile. Beginning to wonder if we’ve taken a wrong turn, we stop a cop car to ask directions. He informs us we have to cross a bridge to get to the tow shop. A bridge that you cannot walk across (unless you like dodging cars). The officer offers all five of us a ride, I get shotgun (literally) while everyone else piles into the back of the police car. For those of you who are curious, the back of police cars benches are not comfy. They are plastic and they are hard. Everyone else let me have the comfy seat while they dealt with the slight pain in the ass (I guess they figured the ass raping I was taking on this little excursion was pain enough). We finally arrive at the towing garage and from the back of the cruiser I hear the Fiancée say “I knew we’d need cash!” pointing at a sign. Sigh, aww thanks Sar! So I find out from the unfriendly, huge, black, Muslim gentleman working there that the closest ATM is at an establishment called the “Purple Orchid” (a strip club) a half mile down the road. Luckily the Police Officer had not left yet at this point and was nice enough to give Josh and myself a ride (Josh had to come along because there’s a $300 limit on how much I can take out). As we’re backing out of the garage in the police cruiser, the Fiancée decided she could no longer stay silent and yelled to me “No lap-dances!” in front of the officer who’s been schlepping us all around Southwest Philly. Sigh, aww thanks Sar! So we get to the Purple Orchid (I think their unofficial slogan is “Got Crabs?”) and the bouncer was nice enough to not make Josh or myself pay the cover to use the ATM (surcharge $6). So the officer gave us a ride back to the towing garage, and I paid for the cars. The Fiancée and I went our separate ways for the evening (thank goodness). It was not a good night, but on the way home I told my brother and Josh “It’s a good fucking thing the Phillies won or else I would’ve really been pissed.” And I still mean it.

Now that you’ve read all this, you’re probably asking yourself, Dan, this seems like this was entirely your fault, why is Matt the “moron” shouldn’t you quit being a bitch and take all the blame? First of all, you’ve got some nerve, second, the answer to this question is that Matt felt partially responsible because he had actually done the park outside the stadium/bring pizza into it before, but he left out a small, but crucial detail: You park NEAR the parking lot, not IN it. Regardless, it was my call, I should’ve known better, so while Matt may be a “moron” he is certainly not the only one in his family.

Ahh, another successful (if wordy) post finished. Hope my embarrassing tales of taking a beating gave you all a bit of enjoyment. More is to come, I promise.

May 7, 2005
Well well well, look who’s finally updating. Sorry I’ve kept you all waiting longer than I wanted, but as anticipated, law school did come in, did suck all of my time, and did cause: lack of sleep, nauseous-ness, and the occasional outburst/nervous breakdown. But lucky for all of you, I now have enough time to come up for air, and keep bringing you the product that you have come to grow moderately interested in.

First, some congratulations are in order for my brother who is graduating today. Unlike some other websites that may take shots at Nate and his circuitous route through college, I wish him nothing but luck because the best 9 (yes nine!) years of his life are now over. I suggest he go watch “St. Elmo’s Fire” and try to pick out which character he’s most like (And not to worry too much, even Demi Moore has problems adjusting to the real world!).

I also have some housecleaning to do because I did not properly give the Fiancée her due credit for originating my cat’s superhero alter ego “Kitty Chaos.” Good job, although I like the Hairball Havoc more. Moving on…

Now, because I lack the attention span to stay on one topic for so long, so here’s two WTF moments in movies:
For those of you who were unlucky enough to see the Keanu Reeves epic “The Replacements”, I always wondered why when the players went on strike, they had to hire all new cheerleaders? Was it a sympathy strike? Do the deleted scenes have the new stripper/cheerleaders getting harassed by the old ones as they walk the picket line? Did the old cheerleaders walk out because they refused to cheer for scab-players? Have I officially lost my mind for thinking this much about a Keanu Reeves movie?
I’ve mentioned it before, but what was up with the Jedis in Episode II? In Episode I the Jedis are practically invincible and it takes something special to clip one like the double edged lightsaber that takes out Qui-Gon Jinn! Then suddenly in Episode II, if someone’s shooting a blaster at one (a Jedi council member no less) he’s killed. Apparently the Jedi Council has lower standards than Devry University. Which leads me to this: if there’s someone who’s ruined a good idea more than George Lucas, they belong in the Hall of Shame with that band put out that awful “Superman” song and whoever green lighted 7th Heaven or Ashlee Simpson’s music career (special Ashlee Simpson list).
There was going to be more, but I hit a patch of “I can only think of 5 movies over and over again” leading me to wonder if law school has broken my brain. And if my brain is indeed broken, why couldn’t I have done it the normal way, with alcohol? I guess that’s one of those regrets I’ll have to live with. That’s all for now, take it easy!

April 27, 2005
Hi everybody! Yes, I am now as bad as Matt at updating. I wish I had a cool reason for not updating such as I was hired as special guest oil rubber by playboy, or I was surfing and I caught a huge wave and ended up on a deserted island where there was a boat captain (he said to call him skipper) his goofy first mate, a millionaire (and his wife), a movie star and the rest... Unfortunately, it was just life getting in the way of my posting. Leading me back to the one thing I know to be true: Being in school would be a lot more fun if we didn’t have classes.

Since I don’t have anything big to write about, so I thought I’d just put some quick thoughts:
Can Paula Abdul suck any more? I know your favorite guy got voted off, but try to maintain a little bit of dignity.
Historical movies kick ass (except for Alexander) I’m totally psyched for “Kingdom of Heaven” Yes, the crusaders tried to basically kill everything not Christian (Jewish and Muslim alike), but I’m sure the movie will gloss over that and just show lots of awesome medieval battles. Yes, I do have the same taste in movies as a 10 year-old.
If my cat was a super hero, her name would be Kitty Chaos!
Alternate name: the Hairball Havoc!
The Phillies are officially the worst team. I feel like they have reached the equivalent of a genetic disorder; I’m not sure I want to pass it on to my children.
There is something ironic about prisoners naming their favorite show is Law and Order. I was watching a local TV station about mothers in prison. The one woman was talking about TV shows and I was surprised to hear her saying she really like the show. No funny comment coming; that’s just odd.

That’s all that my thoughts for now, more updates to follow if law school finals don’t suck up all of my time.

April 22, 2005
Apologies for missing a day, I must blame driving all day to get back to Philadelphia and then laziness when I got there. To make up for it, I have a short story for you. The following is true:

Following the tour bus through the Philadelphia area, Caitlin stuck with them, apparently too close because the bus must have noticed a car following them, and started weaving in and out of traffic, on and off a highway, and finally pulled over to the side of the road. Caitlin drove past, but then pulled over also to see if the bus would soon continue its journey, which it did shortly. When the tour bus passed, Caitlin resumed following.

Still following the bus, Caitlin realized it was going to her home town of Media, PA. The bus eventually stopped at a local restaurant, but because it was a bar, and Caitlin was not of legal age, she could not go in. That’s when she called my future father-in-law to come so he could escort her in. When she called, my future father-in-law said, “I’ll be right there!” While Caitlin was waiting for him, she was outside the restaurant blasting Ashlee’s music. Caitlin saw that one of the members of Ashlee’s band was outside, so she started talking to him. My future father-in-law arrived and went into the restaurant to scout out where Ashlee was sitting. Upon returning he said she was in the back corner and that she should go in and ask for an autograph. It was then that my future father-in-law and the band member had this exchange.
Future Father-in-law: “Just go in and ask for her autograph! (to the band member) She’s pretty cool right?”
Ashlee Simpson’s Band Member: “Uhh…”

Now, my future father-in-law being the friendly Irish fellow that he is, decided to chat up Ashlee Simpson’s band member:
Future father-in-law: “So, it must have been pretty cool getting to play on Saturday Night live!”
Band Member: “Uhhh…yeah…that was interesting.”

Hope you enjoyed the story, I think I’ve given a good glimpse of the mindset of my future in laws. I think I could write a sitcom staring my future father-in-law. He is the only person with the balls (or the lack of tact) to say that. He’s the man!

April 20, 2005
Sorry to compare you the king of the hillbillies, Matt, but look on the bright side: I compared you to the guy that won. Meanwhile on my site I’ll hem and haw and be wordy and you’ll have these great glib posts that I cannot compete with due to my wordiness (nice way of saying diarrhea of the mouth). Look at it another way Matt, you’ll be Darth Vader to my rest of the Jedi council. You’re the baddest motherfucka around and I’m some crappy Jedi Master who gets killed by some stupid blaster fire. You’ll be out kicking asses (possibly of activist judges, I don’t know) and I’ll be here in Boston surrounded by the rest of the ivory tower liberals. I don’t have a chance against you. Now that Matt’s ego is adequately stroked, some content for the rest of you!

First some housecleaning: Matt also mentioned how he wonders how long I can keep up these daily posts. Probably not that long, but I hope to at least get to the point where people will work me into their internet routine. They’ll sign on, check their 2-3 e-mail accounts, go look at their favorite web comic (I suggest Questionablecontent.net) or go check the news or scores of last night’s game, then when all the obvious things are done, and not wanting to start homework, regular work, or go face the rest of reality, they’ll come check out my site.

Since I don’t have any set agenda on this site (such as enslaving the human race or forming a tribute band to Styx), I thought I’d just talk about the things that I like. Since I’m into fair warnings I think I owe it to all that if you’re looking for highbrow, intellectually stimulating content you’re probably not going to find it here. I watch a lot of TV. I watch bad TV. I like it when Jack on “24” inexplicably gets away with massive civil rights violations such as when he’s off chopping off guy’s heads so that he can stop the next terrorist attack. I like it when Bart calls Moe’s Tavern and asks to speak to Hugh Jazz—for the 10th time. I like it when John Kruk and Harold Reynolds get into fights over what city is the best place for shooting beaver. But now I’m going to talk about a new favorite show, that started just a few weeks ago.

The new show is “The Office” on NBC (Yes, NBC is the network that should be ashamed of itself for bringing us the last 4 seasons of “Friends” but they’ve also done good things like bringing us “Scrubs” so it is at least safe to say they’re hit or miss). Combining a mix of non PC humor and awkward pauses that would fit in nicely with “Curb Your Enthusiasm” it has the right edge that could allow this to be a breakout hit (extra points for not forcing us to listen to a laugh track). The same things that make this a possible new favorite, also has the unfortunate side-effect that it could be cancelled before its time a la “SportsNight”. Hopefully it will get a fair shot because it stars Daily Show alum Steve Carrell who also costarred (and was the only funny person in) “Anchorman.” With the season finale (yes already) planning to be shown this upcoming Tuesday at 9:30 (eastern time, stupid), I encourage everyone to tune in for what is hopefully not the last show.

That’s all for now, but not to worry, more zaniness (yes zaniness!) will be coming soon.

April 20, 2005
Guess who’s updating yet again! I bet Matt didn’t count on that when he said he’d let me post on his website! Some people have pointed out in yesterday’s post that both items on my list were about baseball, despite me saying it wouldn’t be. I could see how it would appear that way to the untrained eye…ok, I’m caught. But look beyond my shallowness. I think it speaks highly of me that when I’m asked to name things that I hate, I only think of a pleasant diversion that is baseball. If you saw through my bullshit, congrats you’ve passed the first test. Be on your toes, more bullshit to come…

April 19, 2005
Welcome to another exciting episode of the most mediocre site ever, I’ll be you host/ranter, Dan. I mentioned it in my earlier post, and I think it’s time to put out my non-inclusive list of things that I hate. I feel that I should point out that there aren’t really that many things that I truly hate, and “hate” will be used as a synonym of “dislike” so don’t look for this list to include things like Racism, Nazis or sock puppets (by the way I actually like sock puppets). Now that you are thoroughly confused (or questioning why you would take the 5-10 minutes to read my shit) I give you the first of my non-inclusive list of things that I hate.
1. The St. Louis Cardinals. Yes, I did just start off my expansive list of things I hate with a baseball team—I’m betting that the non-baseball fans out there will be intrigued enough to bear with me here (I promise only one baseball reference per column). Simply put, the St. Louis Cardinals are the devil. They are the Ned Flanders of baseball teams. There fans are super nice, they seem to have things just a little bit better than you, and worst of all they have this ever annoying habit of taking Phillies. First was the J.D. Drew thing (but my absolute loathing of him gets his own point below). Then there was the Garrett Stephenson thing. Stephenson was a Phillie in the late 90’s. Those teams were awful. Occasionally he’d flash something for the team, but as soon as the Phillies’ fans felt the slimmest glimmer of hope, he’d revert to form and pitch like an asshole. It got so bad that the Phillies had to trade him to the St. Louis Cardinals. There, he pitched much more consistently, and took a couple of swipes at the Phillies. Apparently he had trouble with Curt Schilling’s approach to getting ready to play games. Schilling, who may be an asshole but is also a great player, tried to take Stephenson under his wing and show him how to be a major league pitcher, just as Roger Clemens once sought out a young Curt Schilling. Typical of asshole, rich baseball players he couldn’t deal with Schilling’s pressure of doing things his way. Rather than taking the help, and trying to do it the way that the most prepared pitcher in baseball did it he moped, he sucked, he got traded, and he played better for the Cardinals. Am I being petty? Of course, and I think I owe anyone reading this a fair warning that there will be many more petty things discussed in future columns. The last is the Scott Rolen thing. My feelings for Rolen are complicated. He played for the Phillies, and for the most part he was great. But he was not a stand alone superstar. He gave it his all while he was in the lineup, but he didn’t like the city, he didn’t like the pressure, and he eventually left for “heaven” (his own word). I love his game, but frankly, I feel like a jilted lover here (also another thing that you can look forward to is many more uncomfortable analogies). Imagine you love a girl. She’s the one. She’s great looking, fun to talk to and be around, but you always like her a little bit more than she likes you. She tries to be patient with your flaws, but rather than just sticking with it, she runs off for some other guy, leaving you with nothing but “could of beens” and quickly becomes a supermodel who loves giving blowjobs (yes this analogy just went down the crapper). Sure you’re mad at the girl, but the new guy who is getting all the benefits now becomes the object of your hate. This is as close as I can come to explain my feelings about the Scott Rolen thing. Every time I see him make a great defensive play or hit a game winning home run for the Cardinals just makes me hate that team even more.
2. J.D. Drew. (this goes beyond baseball so this doesn’t count as breaking my promise) Yes I just gave an impassioned explanation that I use “hate” as a synonym for “dislike”, but I revoke that here: I HATE J.D. DREW. I hope he dies of gonorrhea and rots in hell. Unlike with Scott Rolen where I just feel jilted, J.D. Drew is closer akin to that bitch in high school who you always had a crush on but wouldn’t give you the time of day (wow two girl analogies to baseball in one column—I’m not going to touch that one here). For those of you who don’t know the story the Phillies were awful in 1996, with the only pseudo good thing coming from it is that they got the second overall pick in the 1997 draft. J.D. Drew was easily the best prospect that year—he was a five tool center fielder (baseball aficionados know that there are probably less than 10 of those in the major leagues). The Twins picked first and were scared away from Drew’s bonus demands. The Phillies picked him second, figuring that he was a special talent and ignored the bonus demands. Long story short the Phillies were never able to sign him, he sat out the year and went back into the draft only to be drafted by the Cardinals. I understand that professional athletes only have a limited amount of time to make all the money they can in their career, but as a first round pick, he would have been given at least a fair $2 million bonus. Yes $2 million (a very conservative estimate). Enough to live in Fuckyourownsister, Georgia (or wherever he’s from) in comfort for the rest of your life, not even taking into account all of the money he was going to make when he does reach the major leagues (which was a foregone conclusion). So do I hate him for being greedy? Not exactly. I hate him for being a hypocrite. Drew is also a very religious fundamentalist, born-again Christian. Apparently Christian values are trumped when they come against money. The money was the issue he named, and the fact that he hid behind it speaks volumes of his character, but basically he and his agent took one look at Philadelphia and decided he didn’t want to play there. This brings up one of the things I hate most about athletes: they refuse to realize it’s not only about themselves. Yes the Phillies as a team suffered by not having his talent, but who really suffered were the Phillies’ fans. People who have done no other wrong than being born in south eastern Pennsylvania, south Jersey, or northern Delaware are the ones who have to take it as some ultra religious hick kick them in the nuts. To sum up: Drew ignored a huge payday despite it being in conflict with his supposedly important religious values, and hurt every living Phillies fans all because he didn’t want to play here. If he doesn’t cure cancer, invent a longer lasting light bulb or come up with a new beer that is both better tasting and less filling I will forever hate him.
Wow, you can literally feel the heat venting off of me. I was going to write more things, but what can I say, I’ve written more than anyone is going to read anyway. Look for future installments of things that I hate.

April 18, 2005
Welcome to the second posting of the most mediocre site ever! Not to worry, I promise not to keep naming which post it is at the beginning, although it does make the post longer, thus making me feel like I’ve accomplished something, and perhaps put Matt to shame about his some of his short-ass posts (Just kidding Matt!).

Today was Patriot’s Day in Massachusetts. Yes, there is an actual holiday called Patriot’s Day that George W. Bush did not invent! It basically is a day when the Red Sox play a game at 11AM and the Boston Marathon is run but most importantly everyone gets a day off. The day off is clutch, especially for us law students who when we miss a day for snow, we make it up. Let me repeat that: EVERY SINGLE TIME WE MISS A DAY WE MAKE IT UP. Yes, this is just one of many ways that Law School both sucks and blows. But I digress, the Fiancée wanted go watch the Marathon, and as it required limited effort on my part (they run by a block from our apartment building) and this is basically how I decide to do anything, I agreed. So without alcohol I soon realized that this is just people running by. Yeah, the short fast guys and girls at the beginning was kinda impressive, but they flew by and I was left clapping for these random people. Yeah, it’s great that these people were willing to work and train and run for so long, but by the time the drunken frat boys run by in fake togas (they didn’t run the whole thing—thought I should point that out for the slower people in the audience) I was done. So that was my first impression of the Boston Marathon. Only one semi funny moment (by the quality of anecdote, I hope to express exactly how boring this was): the Fiancée and I noticed that the numbers the women wore all had an “F” before it (such as F130…etc.), while the men only had numbers. The Fiancée had the opinion that this is obviously sexist (why should women have something to indicate their sex, while men do not?!). I, however, found this quite helpful. While it is true that endurance events in sports is the one place that women are catching up to men, I found that it is also true that it is the one place where women and men are also becoming identical. Yes, I’m an idiot (I have the unfortunate habit of not noticing when women are obviously pregnant), but sometimes today, it was a tough call and I was thankful for that “F”, I know I was not alone.

Wow, that was a long post, mostly rambling, perhaps less coherent thoughts than I had hoped. Oh well, this is only the second post, so I’m bound to get better so stick with me. Maybe next time I’ll give you a short, non-inclusive (a law school term) list of things that I hate that will be both fun and interesting for you people who read this to say, “You know, I hate that too!” and we’ll have that great feeling of togetherness. Ah, dare to dream. G’night!

April 16, 2005
Welcome to the most mediocre site ever! I am Dan, Matt's brother, future attorney and sometimes editor. This website plans to take Matt's good idea, and just rip it off. I'll be like FHM or Stuff to his Maxim. Without further ado...

The Fiancée (as she insists she must be called) and I were watching American Idol this week. One of the contestants (Baby Huey) decided he’d sing a Hall and Oates song this week, and wouldn’t you know it, Hall and Oates were in the audience to watch! So the contestant was singing, and he gets to the chorus. He’s into it, Paula the crack-head is into it, and then the screen cuts to Hall and Oates who are not only into it, but Hall (or Oates, I don’t know) is singing with his eyes closed…to his own song.

So I turn to the fiancée and say, “That was pretty masturbatorial”

She replies, “Yeah it was! He was probably like, ‘Man, this song hasn’t sounded this good since the shower this morning!”

That’s all for now, hopefully I’ll update more often then my brother.