Weenie Wacking

I mentioned Weenie Wacking in a previous post and promised to explain it.

About 9 months ago I was down in Houston visiting Mark, Val and McKaylee. They were talking about the going-ons back in Iowa and Val started telling us about a new fad sweeping their old high school. Apparently kids today sit in class and work up a semi-boners and then when the teachers turn towards the board they pull their ding-dongs out of their pants and whack it against their desks. The goal is to whack their quasi-bonered schlongs against the desk the longest and hardest without getting caught by the teachers.

When we were in high school we would play the Penis game, which involved progressively saying the word penis louder and louder without the teacher hearing. But this brings the game to a whole new level. I mean this is bordering on the criminal. I can't wait to see what kids are like in 20 years, it's going to be insane.

Daylight Savings Time

My favorite day of the year is June 21st because that is the day that it says light out the latest. I enjoy sunlight. I like being able to go out at night and have the last glimmering specs of twilight still present at 10pm. Today the sun went down at 4:18 here in Seattle. Sunrise was at 7:50, giving the city 8 and a half hours of the sun's ultraviolet glory. This corresponds almost perfectly to people's work schedules, effectively forcing people to drive to work in the dark and drive home in the dark. I find that criminally depressive and I've blogged about how I hate that the sunlight doesn't match up people's schedules. This year I took a stand, and changed nothing.

Yep I changed nothing, but everyone around me changed. Because I enjoy the extra hour of sunlight, I decided to stay on DST this winter. So far it has worked out terrifically. Basically I never set my clocks back an hour and it's great. I get out of bed at the same time as I have all year, but now I get to work an hour early. If I oversleep by an hour, I get to work right on time. I work my 8 hours and go home but it's an hour earlier in the day. I get an extra hour of sunlight and I can show up an hour late for anything and be right on time. For me the bars close at 3AM instead of 2AM and my Michigan Football games don't start at 9AM but at 10AM giving me what seems like an extra hour of sleep.

This could all be accomplished by converting back to standard time and adjusting my schedule. But for me it works because time is all about perception. I wouldn't be able to go to bed at 9:30PM usually but when I look at my clock and says 10:30, I realize that I have to get to bed. It's the same thing with getting up in the morning. The only way I'll get out of bed is if my clock tells me if I don't I'll be late. I have the same amount of time from when I leave work until I go to bed, but it seems like more because I have more sunlight and I actually get to enjoy a little of it.

Come March when everyone talks about how great the extra hour of sunlight in the summer is I'll remind them that I've been enjoying it the entire time. I'll also mention how I won't be losing that hour of sleep during the switchover.

The Wire

I had this wierd quirk to watching The Wire. Whenever I would decide to start a new season I would force myself to watch every season up to that one before I could begin. Then once I was finished, I would give myself 4-6 months to reflect on the awesomeness of that season before starting the process all over again. It took my two years to get through the series, and I've now seen season one 5 times.

I watched my first episode of the wire in 2008

How do you describe the wire. It's an engrossing series. Even

Some Notes:

• Favorite Character: Bode Broadus. I liked Cutty and Landsman, but Bode was the one character I really felt his achievements and defeats so viscerally good or bad. I felt worse when he died than when real people have died
• Season rankings: 4 and 3 are far at the top with 4 getting the slight edge. Then 2 followed by 5 and 1. I think 1 was hard, because it had to set up so much, and 5 was hard because so many characters were gone by the end.
• Best season closing song/montage - Steve Earle "I Feel Alright" from Season 2. Steve Earle also plays Walon, Bubbles sponsor.
• The one thing that was apparent throughout the series was the importance of leverage during a negotiation. In season 5, when Lester has the head shot on Clay Davis he uses it to get Clay to give him information. Clay has no idea that the US attourney has refused to prosecute Clay because of beef with Carcetti. But Lester still uses this against Clay Davis. The best example of this is when Pearlman goes in to Levy's office to negotiate the plea against Stanfield. Levy knows that the charges are from an illegal wiretap, and Pearlman knows has leverage against Levy for his purchasing grand jury depositions illegally. Both have leverage against the other, but a Rhonda reminds Levy, he will go to jail for longer than he will. It's like a prisoners dilemma where Rhonda is reminding levy that if he stabs her, he will get stabbed worse. Just a great climax of an episode.
• Despite how Marlo came off as brutish and hard to watch I have to feel that he was the best at playing the game. Sure Stringer was good, but he was meant for a different game than the drug trade. Avon was to territorial, Prop Joe too willing to compromise, Cheese too aggressive, White Mike too white, Slim Charles is to weak and unable to make a move. Marlo knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to do what it took to take it. This was written by someone else, but sums up my feelings of Marlo. The first time Marlo makes an impact is when his underlings are about to punish Bubbles and Johnny for leaning on their car, threatening them with a handgun. Marlo takes in the situation and says simply 'Do it or don't. I've got places to be." He instantly puts himself above trivial concerns; he shows neither anger nor compassion. He has merely sized the situation up, judged there is no threat or benefit to him therein, and leaves it as not worth his time. His decision-making is calibrated to winning "the game". Marlo's utilitarian analysis is perhaps most marked when he decides Michael's fate. He clearly has a slight fondness for Michael (he chose him after all), and agrees with Chris he's unlikely to be the snitch. "But you willing to bet your life on it?" he asks, and the decision is made. He acknowledges his inability to put human relationships first in his last exchange with Joe, who he clearly also felt some bond with: "I treated you like a son" "I wasn't made to play the son. Close your eyes...it won't hurt none".

I've watched so much of the wire that I made a few fan video's which I have posted below. The last one took me the longest and may be the one thing on the internet that I am most proud of.

The Wire has changed my life in a way no other TV show has been able to since Walker Texas Ranger. Everything that happens in my life I can relate to a moment in The Wire.

The Omaha Steaks Brochure

One fall day during our college years we were magically misdelivered a catalog for the Omaha Steaks. It languished around the couches receiving little attention for a few weeks. Then one day someone picked it up and looked at the goods that the Omaha Steak Company was selling. We were in awe. The number and diversity of steaks along with the sides and knives that they included amazed us all. We spent the next several hours debating about which packages we were planning to get and how we would divide them. We were going to eat like kings from that day forward. We made our plan and then gave them a call to place an order. But the deals in the catalog were only good for the names that they sent it to, and we were not on their “exclusive member” list. And like that our hopes of brashly made steak purchases were dashed. It were those spur of the moment purchasing decisions that led to us being delivered $170 worth of Fatheads or an entire case of 40oz Camo Silver Ice’s.

My Triumphant Return to A2

I just got back from a week long trip back to Ann Arbor. The purpose of the trip was to attend

the career fair and recruit some talented engineers, but in many ways it was more than that.

Friday:

I chose to take a vacation day and fly out early to A2 last Friday. When I got to A2 I went right to some friends house after picking up BTB and a Four Loko that my sister had given me. Four Loko is like sparks on steroids. Then I went to my old roommates house for a quick Wimmy session, because no trip to A2 is complete without a Wimmy in the basement of 1001 state street. Then I went to the house of one of the kids I lived in the dorms with. He had a little pre-funk and before I knew it my fifth of Cuervo was empty. A couple of rounds at Charleys later, I found myself back at my sisters place getting messy with a Vito from Jimmy John's.

Saturday:

I woke up and went to go tailgate. My old roommates have apparently spent the last year and a half tailgating with a homeless man. They justify it by saying that he protects them from other bums, but when one showed up our "protection" looked like this.

I met some of the guys who now live at the Box house. I was content to let it die, but if these kids are going to try to be Box they need to step it up. Their tailgate was pretty weaksauce, but I blame the cops for some of that. I did get my lunch from the guy who let me haggle the price of a burger after I got kicked out of Michigan Stadium 3 years ago. I like that guy.

I went to the game and was impressed with the expanded stadium. The one negative is that they removed the troughs from the mens bathroom. Never again will I be able to partake in the walking pee that occasionally happened.

Saturday afternoon I watched Night at the Roxbury (a terrific cinematic masterpiece) and eating Mr. Spots. Saturday night we started off at Charley's before making our way to Rick's. As we walked up I realized that I knew the doorman, who was a kid I met because he used to come over and hangout at 510 Benjamin with Jake. It felt good to still have a good connection in Ann Arbor. I met up with some lady-friends at Rick's. At one point me and these three girls were getting some shots and one of them mentioned "Bruss, you know you've hooked up with all three of us during college"? I found that amusing.

Sunday

I woke up Sunday at like 1PM. Then I went out to lunch at Noodles with my sister and her boyfriend. After that we walked everywhere looking for a gift for my dad for his birthday. I got to check out the new North Quad which is very much "the shit". It's really nice in there. We walked all around the city and eventually got my dad some birthday crap. We met up with the 'rents and our grandma at Pizza house. Afterwards I went back to my old roommates place and watched Boardwalk Empire and Swamp People. I came away equally impressed with both. Then I couple of us dudes checked out Packard Pub. Decent bar, but not the most lively. We were the only patrons, but it was 1AM on Sunday night.

Monday

Monday was the day I was supposed to fly in to town but since I was already there I really didn't have much to do. I spent the morning talking to my lawyer, Gail "The Hailstorm" Lawyerlady. I'm still in court with my landlord from 2009. I gave Al my power of attorney so things probably won't go well for me. We also talked about how the guys who lived in the house last year are being sued for $19,000. Glad that's not me.

I then rode the bus for a bit to catch up on my bus driver gossip. After that I had a date I made a few nights prior. Zola and I were going to go to CIAYCELB for lunch Monday. We rode the AATA route 36 there and back. I scarfed down 7 slices and got a Zola Salad (just meats, cheese and dressing - no lettuce). After that I spent all afternoon in the fishbowl snickering at the idiots who were still in college and had to do work.

That evening the manager who was doing the career fair with me flew in. I met up with him and we went to The Jug for dinner. We ended up playing some trivia and then going to Charleys. Nothing too epic.

Tuesday

We worked the career fair. Talking to potential candidates and explaining that we don't take interns and we do not sponsor visas. It was a lot of standing and talking, but overall wasn't bad. That night I went out to Grizzly Peak with a friend and then met up with a guy who was also in town recruiting. We drank a few rounds, but I had to get back to the hotel early (1 am) because I had interviews the next day.

Wednesday

We spent most of the day conducting interviews. I did college recruiting last year and enjoyed it. Going from the interviewee to the interviewer is really interesting. Getting to ask good questions and seeing how the people respond is great. Also, as a note to my large undergraduate readership: GPA isn't as important as you think it is. Being personable, interested and eager go farther than a few points on the 4.0 scale. I took my manager to Za's for lunch, where no other than Rashad himself was working. It's like even after I leave I still have connections.

That night we went back to Pizza House for dinner before meeting up with my friends at Charley's. We started doing rounds off the Charley's shooters list and got really, really drunk. It was just like the old times, a few of the faces were different but the result was the same.

Today I flew home after a mammoth trip, and now I counting down the 15 days until I go back to A2 for the Iowa game.

E-Mail Analysis

My cousin turned me onto this nifty widget Google Chrome has that will analyze you're Gmail inbox and give you a pretty cool graph. It is located here. I have been using Gmail as my primary email for over 6 years now. That's a large number of emails that I've sent and received. It comes out to almost 25,000 archived emails. I once read a great blog post by my good friend Brian where he ran an analysis of his Inbox. It was pretty interesting and I wanted to do something similar. I tried for like five minutes trying to figure out how to download all my email data as CSV, and then gave up and drank a Keystone Ice. I found that while the Ice was harder to come by, the black label looked really cool.

Blue are all emails, Red are sent emails

I had assumed the top chart would look something like this. It's like you can tell which months classes started and finished each year. The second chart gives some information that I always wondered about. How much of my email traffic comes through early in the week. Well if November of 2008 is any indication, Mondays and Tuesday accounted for like 50% of the email traffic in a given week. You can also see that like most people I receive emails at a much larger rate than I send them by about a 1:10 ratio. But that's pretty common.

So where did all those emails come from? Let's go to the chart.

Wow. Of the 25,000 emails I have archived about 1 in 8 are facebook (blue) related. That is a little scary. The other ones are from the U of M class web-based site Ctools (red), online risk (orange) and emails from bus drivers (green). Combined these account for like a third of all the emails I've ever received. It looks like I played a lot of online risk in July of 2008. The really cool graph is the bottom right. I've stopped getting emails from my classes which makes sense. My online risk playing must have gone downhill. I am definitely less social judging by my reduced use of Facebook to near Sophomore year levels. Finally, my job doesn't spam my personal email address so often. It looks like I much be more boring now. Maybe that is the cause of the reduced blogging.

Perhaps I'll do some more graphing of my emails to try and determine exactly when I started overusing the term "buttmuncher" in my emails.

The Roommates: Cameltoe

Between my sophomore year shithole of a house and my junior year shithole of a house Peter, Ross and I had about three months between our leases. We all ended up subletting an apartment at Arbor St. and State St. from Peter's somewhat ex-girlfriend. It was a good summer of hanging, grilling and meeting Phucking Phil. We had a basement apartment that was less than 100 feet from two liquor stores.


After spring term Peter and Ross both moved back home for the last two months of the summer. Taking their place was one of the girls who was going to live in the apartment for the next year. She was a big ol' white girl from Texas. Her last name started with "Cam" and was difficult to pronounce and the first time we met her she was wearing some ill-fitting pants, so she got the name "Cameltoe." She just kinda showed up one day to move in and Peter hadn't moved his stuff out of the room because I think we were out of town (I pretty sure it was the weekend we left Peter in Bloomington Indiana) so she just put all of his stuff in the living room.

Soon after Ross and Peter had left me alone with Cameltoe I got to see how this girl was all sorts of crazy. Besides her interesting dressing habits she managed to light a grease fire the first week and then tried to put it out with water. Sometimes when we would both be home it would be just kind of awkward because she spoke poor English, which is somewhat rare for students of U of M who were American.

By far the most memorable and crazy part of Cameltoe was her taste in men. She would routinely bring back very large men. Every night it was someone new, there was the basketball player from Eastern Michigan, a couple of guys from the football team and my favorite: Rashad. Rashad was one of those people that I lucked out in meeting that totally paid off the rest of my time in Ann Arbor. Rashad was in his mid to late twenties and was one of the most consistent guys to be at my apartment. He technically lived in Ypsi, but he spent most of his time at my apartment. Sometimes I would wake up and Sara would be gone and Rashad would just be chilling on the couch watching Sportscenter. So I would pour myself a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles and watch with him. I would go to work and just leave him in the apartment alone.

What was great about Rashad is that he worked or had worked at almost every establishment on South U. So all junior year when I would go to Za's he would be working and we would talk and he would hook me up with an extra garlic bread. Eventually Rashad started working the line at Charley's and BTB Cantina. He would always be really cool to me and get me past the line and stuff. It was all because of those months living with the Cameltoe.

You guys are awesome

It looks like my readership has been supporting the cause because I just received word that The Google is sending me another check in the mail for $100! This is great, because I really like money. I use it all the time. Last time this happened I asked my fledgling readership what I should do with it. So again, here are some options for what I should do with this money I really didn't do anything to earn.

1) Put it towards a new laptop for mobile blogging.
2) Bet it all on college football until I've turned the $100 into $1,000 dollars and then divide it among my readership. I think you each get $50.
3) Buy a gun.
4) Get really drunk and tell chicks that I'm an internet sensation. I'm not entirely sure how I use the $100 in this scenario.
5) Give it to charity. Ha!
6) Spend it on my novelty Michigan outfit, and take a picture of it and post it on this blog.

My last payment was October 2008. It took me 12 months to get my first payment but it took me 23 months after that to get my second payment. I'm guessing with my small but loyal following and an uptick in posting I will get my next payment in March of 2012. So in a mere 18 months expect me to ask this question again.

One year of real life

Today marks the one year anniversary of me starting my professional career. One down 33 to go. It's been an interesting past year. I went from being a poor college student to a young professional. I've made twice the amount of money this year than I have in all the jobs I've ever held combined. It has allowed me to buy a bunch of stuff that I could never have living in slums of college housing. It still surprises me how much money I make and subsequently spend now.

Working has it's other benefits than the paychecks as well. I get to travel and sometimes go places I would pay to go anyways. Next weekend I'm going to DC and getting to visit some friends. Plus, every year so far I've gotten to take a free trip back to Ann Arbor to recruit. I find recruiting trips to be mucho fun-o.

One of the hardest things about beginning the life of work is that you have to go every day. In college I might have had to wake up early a couple of times a week. If I really didn't feel like getting up I didn't have to and there were absolutely no consequences. When I worked during the summers driving buses I usually only had to get up early one or two days a week which I could always muster up for. I got a taste of it when I had my internships, but this is really it. A change in the past year is that I now drink excessive amounts of coffee.

After the 20 roommates I had in college, I finally got my own place. Having complete control of my living space was awesome. Paying bills and rent by myself really wasn't. After a year of that I moved into a townhouse and I finally now have a decent roommate, a house with real furniture, hardwood floors and two big TV's. I've lived in the suburbs, a medium sized city and a huge city. I now live in really small town, which I really like. I've always been attracted to the charm of small towns with lots going on and living where I could walk downtown. It's nice, because there is the small town feel with the big city just a ferry ride away, I see it as the best of both worlds. Also, for the first time I live in a place with views of mountains and water.

I've gotten used to life in the Pacific Northwest. The people, the rain and the time difference. If you think about the country the Pacific Northwest is really isolated from the rest of the country. It makes for long flights but a cool uniqueness about it.

All in all, I think this whole 'working' thing has really worked out well. It seems better than most of the alternatives. I think I'll keep doing it. That is until I find some other way to get really rich. I don't think I'd be one of those people who become billionaires and still show up for work every day. But no complaints here.

10 Things I intend to teach my kids before they go to college

I believe that there is a set of skill every person should know regardless of if they ever use them or not. I intend to teach them to my offspring regardless of gender or willingness to learn. I just don't want my kids to enter a world and feel foolish for not learning something that everyone should know. I made a small list of things I intend to teach my bastard children by the time they're 18, and I added when I first learned to do them.

1. How to drive a stick.
   I didn't really learn how to drive a stick until I bought my Camaro after college. Sure, like everyone I "could drive one if I had too". But the instant anyone says that to me I immediately think "You have no idea, do you?". That was the type of thing my dad would have loved to teach me, but the opportunity never arose. Well, he eventually did teach me, just not until I was 22.
   
2. How to to grill a steak/use a charcoal grill.
   It seems pretty easy. Light charcoal on fire, add meat. Wait. That's all I thought from watching my dad grill out at our house. We had propane, so it seemed reasonably enough that grilling a steak wasn't a skill. In fact it is a fine art (charcoal chimney anyone?) that can be done many different ways correctly, and many ways incorrectly.
3. An appreciation of classic rock
   I don't really care what music is popular when I finally get around to procreating. I'm going to demand that my child knows a Led Zeppelin song from a Lynyrd Skynyrd tune. I'll work in some more modern stuff, but I just can't imagine my child going off to college and not being able to identify a Bruce Springsteen song. I don't care that the music will be like 60 years old. They will learn it.
4. How to fire a gun
   This may be the one that is used the least, has the worst impact and is probably unnecessary but I like it. I'm sure we all would like to live in a world where there are no guns and bad things don't happen. My children will be realists. It's one of those skills I would rather they would have and not need, than need and not have. They don't need to be great marksman. I just want them to be familiar and able to pick up a gun and shoot a zombie if needed. Beyond BB guns, I didn't learn how to shoot a until my sophomore year of college. Once, at Scout Camp I saw my dad rock some clay pigeons with a 12-gauge, but I don't fault him for never teaching me.
5. How to mix a drink
   I can't imagine this lesson getting too in depth, but who knows maybe they will have dropped the drinking age back to 18 by then. Just a lesson on what mixes well with what, and how to drink a Guinness.
6. How to start a fire in the woods and tie a decent knot
   I learned this somewhat in Boy Scouts, but didn't master the skill until senior year of High School. I took a wilderness survival class that ended with all of us going camping in Canada. It is something that I still use when I go camping, and nice to know if I ever get lost outdoors.
   
7. Good movies
   I don't plan forcing my kids to watch The Godfather or Back to the Future, but there are some movies everyone needs to have a working knowledge of. I can't imagine walking around not quite knowing who Yoda is. I'm not sure exactly what I would show them, but around the time I was 16 I really went through the family movie collection. At least Blazing Saddles, Dumb and Dumber, Old School, Shawshank, Pulp Fiction and most of the IMDB top 100.
8. How to use power tools
   As a kid I used to help my dad out on all sorts of projects. Usually he would give me a shot on the drill or table saw. I couldn't believe when I went to school that some kids couldn't drill a pilot hole, or even hang a picture with a hammer and nail. I would have felt downright foolish not knowing those things. Thanks pops!
   
9. How to hook up a entertainment system
   When I moved into one of my college houses, there were only two of us who knew how to hook up all the cables and internet properly. That shit was even color-coded. I'm making sure my kid know how to hook up system, and the differences between formats which will probably be 2160P vs 1440I. Or whatever future shit they have by then.
10. How to tap a keg
    I had the benefit of my dad insisting that we get a keg for my high school graduation party. About 40 minutes before it started he took me aside and taught me how to tap a keg. It was one of the best things I've ever learned. It came in handy a couple of times freshman year but was really useful sophomore year. Once people moved out of the dorms and into houses they would throw parties, but generally no one would know how to tap the keg. I think that year I tapped between 20-30 and probably more than 100 in my collegiate career. It's so simple, but if you do it wrong you get beer sprayed in you're face. The experience also let me master other crazy taps like a latch design and minor tap repair.

I don't like thinking too much about having kids, but occasionally I'll think to myself "Gee whiz, I'm really glad I know how to do that" or "Damn, I wish someone would have taught me that". So I will ensure that my kids know how to do all the important things, like light their farts on fire.

Brian Goes Home; Ruins Stranger's Friendships and Acts like a Perv

As I write this it is the wee hours of July 5th. It is exactly 2 years to the day after this story took place. I have long thought this to be one of my greatest adventures, but until now it has remained unpublished. This was originally written in July of 2008 after the events transpired but has been slightly edited for content because my mom might see this and that scares me.

I had to go back home this weekend because I had been invited to the wedding of my roommate Paul's older sister Rita. 300 miles each way is nothing as long as there is a open bar involved.

The story starts on Wednesday night in Chicago, when I went out to dinner with my sister, who was in town. Afterward we met some friends at the bar for drinks. Well, a few pitchers turned into a few Jaeger bombs, which in turn became a few buckets of Bud Light which of course led to Rumplemints shots. All in all, I was a little drunk when I went home.

The next day I woke up and went to work. For 16 hours. First I went into the office for the whole day and then "volunteered" to work from 5 to midnight being an information specialist for the Chicago fireworks. I was at Navy Pier which probably had 100,000 people watching the fireworks. I was to give them directions on how to get home. I have only been living here for 5 weeks, and I have no clue where anything is. But I got to watch the fireworks, which were amazing.

The morning of the 4th I woke up, ate a quesadilla, listened to God Bless America and got on the megabus to go back to Detroit. This is a good time for a little lesson on phrasing. I learned the hard way that saying "The dude blew a tranny in front of Dan Ryan" is a little different than saying "The bus driver had a transmission problem near the Dan Ryan expressway". One short delay later we were back on the road.

I decided to spend the Friday night in Ann Arbor before going home on Saturday for the wedding. I got in at about 2:30 and was picked up by a friend who handed me a road beer. This was the start of a afternoon of celebrating America. My roommate Brick, who, by the way, was wearing a child sized "USA" jersey and cutoffs, made an excellent July 4th playlist and we spent the day on State Street playing beer can golf, grilling, lighting fireworks, burning things and drinking heavily. I bought a pint of 151, and used 2/3rd's if it as an accelerant. Drinking the other third led to us playing shirts vs skins fire pong to a repeating "Eye of the Tiger".


It's weird, but the drunker we got, the more we wanted to play with fire and fireworks. I kinda knew how drunk I was when I got hit with a bottle rocket and didn't feel pain.


So, I know what your saying. So far he has gotten drunk, and played with fireworks. But here is when the night gets good. I usually don't like to write about these type of things because it makes me sound sleazy, but what the hell.

Around 10pm my buddy John came over after studying for the MCAT all day. I convinced him to go to the bar with me. We went to the Jug - which was nearly empty - and started doing shots and splitting pitchers. I was in horrible shape from the all afternoon. Then two girls came up to us at the bar and started talking to us. I have no idea what we talked about but luckily John has been able to fill me in.

This is how we started talking to them. First of all...monstrosity comes up to me, puts her hand on my shoulder and asks me if I have a light...in a real disgusting phone whore voice. I say no. Then she says-what about you man...you proceed to empty the entire contents of your pockets and tell her you got nothing. It was obviously just a pick up line. She then asked us what we did. I answered for us...I told her that you run all commerce in Chicago and I work in a lab. She then asked us if we wanted to sit in a booth...we weren't that drunk yet. [I was that drunk -ed]

They came back asking us where we live. I told her that i lived in bum park and you told her you live in box...i didn't want that slut hunting me down later. After that i have no idea what you talked with tracy or teresea or whatever her name was about. I'm pretty sure you spit some mean game...because i could tell she wanted to fuck you...hard. Monstrosity wanted anything with a dick...even if it was a tranny.

I thought that one was a 5 and the other was maybe a 2, but at that point every girl seemed like a binary 1 to me. John has since told me that my ratings were a little "generous".

I do remember them telling us that they were going to Pizza House with their two friends, and they pointed over to two guys sitting at a booth. Then one of them said "Don't worry, they're gay". That's when I knew this night was going to be quite blogable. We tell them that we might meet them over there in a bit and we finish our beers. We go over to Pizza house and of course order 22oz beers. John was not nearly as drunk as I was and he had the MCATs the next week. He only agreed to hang around until the food came, he saw this situation for what it's was - getting picked up by two uggo's - and eventually stood up and said "I have to go" and walks out. This lead to the girls having a bathroom pow-wow while I tell the gay dudes all about the Chicago Gay Pride Parade that I had just attended. I guess the girls didn't settle the issue in the bathroom because on the way back to one of the gay guy's apartments I was holding one of the girls hands while I had my arm around the other. The girl who my arm was around kept taking my hand and putting it down her shirt while I whispered in the ear of the other girl. The only thing I could think about was the part in Office Space where Peter asks Lawrence what he would do if he had a million dollars.

We get back to the apartment and one girl is in one bedroom and the other is on the couch. It was like that episode of Boy Meets World where Cory promises to be at his friend Franky's wrestling match and also at Topanga's sweet sixteen. He spends the entire episode running between the two locations. Much like Cory Matthews, I failed to keep the charade going which led to the two girls going into the dude's bedroom and both presenting their sides to the gay friend tribunal. I got no say in the matter. Apparently one girl was game for the threesome, but the other wouldn't do it. There was some crying but eventually they got it sorted out. Unfortunately the girl that won was the monstrosity, and not very skilled. The best dialog came just a few minutes later when I told the one girl that I felt bad for her friend (I think I was still trying to work the threesome) and she responded "Yeah but she's not as horny as I am". Well that settled that I guess. There were three sentences in here that had to be deleted, sorry. But, even as I left at 4 in the morning I woke up the other girl to mess around a bit with her before I left. I walked out of the apartment building a yelled "I am a golden goddess" probably loud enough for them to hear it. I went home and crawled in my closet bed (a mattress in my closet, that is used mainly for when my roommate starts having sex on my real bed and I figure that the closet bed at least has sheets on it).

I woke up 3 hours later confused, hot, dehydrated, and the wondering whether I should have tried to "chili dog" the girl from last night. My parents came to pick me up from Ann Arbor and on the way back my mom of course asked me "Did you see any girls when you came back to Ann Arbor?" I really wanted to respond "Just the two random strangers I met 8 hours ago." But after last week when my dad had to convince my mom that I wasn't gay for going to the Gay Pride Parade I really wanted to keep her worried.

The wedding was nice and the bridal party was huge. 13 bridesmaids and 11 groomsmen. We pre-gamed for the open bar and by the time we got there we got right to business. The Troy Marriott was pretty convinced I was not of age, because I was carded 7 times by 5 employee's at a wedding. After dinner I went across the table and started talking to a 20 year old who went to Miami of Ohio. I started feeding drinks to her and her younger sister. About every 10 minutes I would go up to the bar and order 3 vodka-tonics. Well after about an hour and a half of solid flirting her dad came over and totally cock blocked me from his daughters. Although he didn't seem to mind that I was giving them hard liquor. I guess they had to go home.

About that time one of Paul's hot (read: foreign) cousin's from Germany came over and started talking to us. It turned out she was 16. I did a quick half-your-age-plus-seven and realized that things just weren't going to fly. It was also about this time that the booze kicked in and the dance floor became one of those circles where people clap as others going into the circle and dance. Someone always does the worm (it was the grooms brother) and everyone else just stands around waiting for someone to go into the circle. I wanted to go into the circle. I decided to take the 16 year old German girl into the circle. I also decided to dance with her HARD. It was quite the sight. Afterwards the bride came up to me and goes "Brian what the hell were you doing with my cousin! Shes 16!"

Right before midnight the open bar was about to close, which led to a race to see who could get the most alcohol. Paul set the bar high with 6 straight bourbons, but I tried to two up him by ordering 8 vodka's on the rocks. She said she would only give me five. In my state those extra three wern't really going to make a difference. By this time there are only 8 or so of us left and we danced to Miley Cyrus until the DJ's left, then we went to a bar across the street for the after party. Oddly enough the 16 year old had no trouble drinking in the bar across the street. Then I called my sister and made her drive us home.

Weekend Successful!

Friday Drinks (3 Bed Lights, 2 High Life's, 3 Bacardi 151's, 2 Budweiser's, 2 High Life's, 1 shot at the jug, 4 pint's at the jug, a 22oz at Pizza house) 19 drinks over the course of nearly 12 hours.

Saturday drinks: 1 Mint Julep, 2 Bud Light's, 1 Rum + Coke, 2 Vodkatonics, 1 Hienekin, 2 Bud Light's, 1 Heinekin, 1 bourbon, 1 Heinekin, 2 straight vodkas, one 22oz at Champps) 16 Drinks

Brian adds to the internet again

As if once wasn't enough. I've really grown to dislike Christian Bale. I love American Physco but have found his recent roles to be as lackluster as a Polish handjob.

I found myself in possession of a Netflix movie tonight that featured the Mr. Bale himself. The movie was Rescue Dawn or as I call it the poor man's Deerhunter. Anyways, the movie was a real riot, quite the knee-slapper. Well only this one part. But it was so good I had to add it to the internet. So here it is in all it's Bale-ish glory.

More texts with strangers

I have a knack for making friends with the random strangers that text me. Tonight was no exception.

Random: hi
Me: Hello
Random: Who is this?
Me: Brian. Who is this?
Random: Last name?
Me: Is 'Lastname' your name? This relationship is only going to work if it is based on honesty.
Random: ?
Random: Whats ur last name?
At this point I get a phone call from an obviously pre-pubescent boy. We chat for awhile, I tell them that I am watching Avatar and they tell me about the bonfire they are at. They sound like pretty cool dudes for 8th graders. It's Mike and his friend Grant. I tell them that we could talk again later.

Me: Do you know Mike from U of D?
Random: Yes...
Me: I was just talking to him and he is at a bonfire. You should go.
Random: uh ok.
Me: What's your name? It's totally unfair that you know my name and I don't know yours.
Random: It's liesl
Me: That's a pretty unique name. So liesl, I'm pretty sure we've never met. But we can still be friends if you want.
Random: Otay
Me: Great, I'm guessing you're from Detroit, I grew up there but now I live in Seattle
Random: Yeah i am
Me: I always thought the 'burbs kinda sucked. Ann Arbor is much more fun.
Random: I dnt care
Me: Well you sure are a barrell of fun. Maybe. we'll talk later new friend.
Random: Sorry im just pissed off at some people and im kinda taking it out on u
Me: I'm sorry about that. How did you get my cell number anyways?
Random: Grant H******
Me: Haha I wonder if that was the kid who called me earlier with his friend Mike
Random: I think so haha

So I now feel like a have a vested interested in the lives of these kids. I feel like I could make a difference in their lives if only given a chance. I think that Mike and Liesl belong together, and I think Mike is totally fucking it up, by playing these stupid pranks on her. I'll have to keep up on the situation and try to report back.

The Roomates: The Dirty Sanchez

I lived with Dirty Sanchez my sophomore year. Living with that kid was pretty cool because with the right level of peer pressure he would pretty much do anything. There are only three pictures on facebook of both of us. This is one of them.


It's from FLASBO8 where we were partying in a condo in Naples, FL one night. This was also the same night that I got my ass kicked by a 40 year old milf in a chugging contest.

Sanchez was a pretty great roommate in the filth that we lived in at 510 Benjamin. We would come home from class on turn on Timbaland or The Fray and just rock out. It was 2006, and that what college dudes did back then. Kids today are all about their hipsters and icing and wienie whacking (<-- I promise to explain wienie whacking in a future blog post.) Back in my day all we had was Goth kids and The Fray, and we appreciated it.

The best part about Sanchez was his ability to play video games. No matter what game he played he would dominate. For awhile we were really into playing Halo. We had two TV's and Xbox's so we would have one system in Ross's room and another in the living room and play system link. No matter what the teams were Sanchez would win. We once played everyone against him and he still won. It was ridiculous.

But the game we played more than Halo was Super Smash Bros for N64. We loved that game. Some of the most epic battles in SSB history probably occurred in our sophomore year house. Once, we played a 99 life team match on Hyrule Castle. It took like 2 hours and at the end my eyes had completely dried out. There is one thing Sanchez will probably be pissed about but I'm going to write about anyways because it is too funny not to. When he would play video games he would get so into them that he would break a sweat. But not like a normal sweat. He would be completely covered in sweat. There were times when he wouldn't play video games with us because he didn't want to have to take a shower after he was finished.

One of the lasting memories of our Sophomore year house is day we decided to put a little wager on the a game of Smash Bros. The bet was him vs a team of me and Peter on a standard 8-life game. The terms were that the loser(s) would have to run around the outside of the house completely naked. We stipulated that you couldn't hold your junk either. If I recall correctly I died first leaving just Pete and Sanchez to duke it out. Sanchez was down to his last life with like 60% damage and Pete had a couple of lives. But I really didn't matter because Sanchez was unstoppable one on one. Somehow a miracle ensued and Pete killed him, meaning that he would have to run - balls flapping - around the house. It took some coercing to do but finally he agreed. It just happened that it was the day that our neighbors parents came up to move their daughter home for the summer. And yes, we declined the rematch.

A selected story from South Bend

I'm sitting at O'hare waiting for my flight home from my buddys wedding. To keep from being excessivly bored I figure I'll pound out a blog post. I'm typing this on my broke ass iPhone so... yeah.

The reception had an open bar and they were serving shots. Some open bars don't serve shot to keep people from getting excessively drunk. I got excessively drunk. But it was a celebration, bitches! After the reception ended a few of us went to the bar for a post party. After a couple more shots I realized that I was too inebreated to be at the bar and I decide to walk back to my hotel. The hotel is in the biggest building in South Bend so I kinda knew where I was going.

I don't really know how or under what circumstances I met him but somehow I started talking with a homeless man. We are walking along just having a terrific chat. About life, love and being an out of work welder. As we walk I see a Burger King a few blocks away. I really want some BK but it's like 2 am and only the drive thru is open. Willie says that he can get us some Whoppers. So Willie and I walk up to the drive thru window. Me a 23 white guy in a shirt and tie, Willie a 40 year old black man with a scruffy beard and a raincoat. The manager goes "Willie! What are you doing here?" but she agrees to sell us some food. I tell Willie to order whatever he wants and I would pay for it. We both order a couple whoppers and I pay with a twenty and give the change to Willie. So we continue our walk and our conversation. When we get close to the hotel we had to say our goodbyes and part ways. I'm not certain but I'm pretty sure I gave Willie a big hug.

Loc-Nar Trophy Hood Decal

I've been thinking about getting a racing stripe for my Camaro. I had been thinking a double white racing stripe would accent the black paint pretty well. Then tonight, I was watching one of my favorite South Park episodes, Major Boobage, and I had a moment of inspiration. I think I know what I putting on my Camaro.

It appears near the end credits when Kenny is totally cheesing his balls off and is driving his Trans Am to fight in the Breastriary of Nippopolis, and swim in the fountains of Varnov with the itty titty fairies of Mammary Mountain and then fight the boob goblin in the gazongas cave. I don't think anyone else has this on their car. If someone else has this, they would surely put it on the internet and I checked the internet and it isn't there.

The Roomates: Jake

The summer after freshmen year most everyone I knew went home. Back to high school jobs, old friends and their familiar bedrooms. I didn't mind being at home where the food was good and the beer was free once the parents went to bed, but the thought of spending three months in the suburbs doing chores around the house was too banal for me. I decided that I would rather spend my summer in Ann Arbor living in the house that we had leased for the next year. I was already paying rent on it starting in May, so I figured I might as well get some use out of it. I had no idea that I was about to spend the summer living with Jake.

My sophomore house, where I lived with Jake

My 5 future roommates had all gone home for the summer, but three of them had found sublets. There were two girls and Jake, it was a lot like The Real World. One girl was the semi-girlfriend of a roommate, the other girl wore a shirt that read "V is for Vegan" and for that reason I never really talked to her. But Jake, he was the life of that house and my summer. Jake didn't go to Michigan, but went to Washtenaw Community College. He was from the nearby town of Saline, MI which is about 20 minutes south of Ann Arbor. Whether he was around or not, his crew was always at the house. By crew I mean like 8-10 guys that I got to know pretty well that summer. They were mostly kids that I would have never hung out with in High School, who just hung around the house and drank 40's and sold drugs. I also became pretty good friends with a few them, and would occasionally party with them the rest of my college career.

Like I said earlier, most of my friends had gone home for the summer, so I didn't really have too much of a social network. In the spring I was taking 8 credits of math and physics which equals a full semester course load. I was also training to become a bus driver, a job which I would hold for the next three years. But whenever I would come home there would always be guys hanging out. About once a week I would come home and Jake had bought something for the house, sometimes furniture, sometimes something completely random. Whenever I would ask him about it he would always respond "I got it for cheap". Eventually I just stopped asking because I had a pretty good idea. I didn't care much, because even though I shouldn't have, I trusted Jake. And it turns out he came through a couple of times.

Jake liked to throw parties at our house. I liked them too because I didn't have many other parties to go to, and usually his crew would pay for the keg. They always seemed like there were too many high school kids, but I got the impression that Jake was such hot shit at his High School that even a year after he left everyone wanted to go to one of his parties. Jake's parties were always huge and packed. They would usually get busted pretty early, and once by dumb luck I got stuck taking the noise violation. Jake knew that it was his party and mostly his friends and offered to pay for it. I knew he should have, but up until then I didn't really think he would have.

For a long time I never knew how he always had money to pay for things. He had a job at a water park and he did some small time drug deals on the side, but it didn't quite ever equal out. Late one night during the summer he told me how he made all his cash over a few 40's on the porch. What Jake would do is always try to work the cashier at the water park where kids got in for $3 and adults for $5. What he would do is charge everyone as adults, tell the customers the right amount and pocket the difference. So if 2 adults came in with 3 kids, he would enter them in the computer as 4 adults and 1 kid but then charge them $19. He would then pocket the $4 difference. Then he would come home with wads of fat cash.

What always amazed me about Jake was the for someone that didn't even go to U of M (at that time) he was amazingly connected. Everyone knew him. He knew some of my friends who lived in the Box house. One of the old box guys Brent had been buying beer for one kid in his crew for years. For the next three years after I lived with Jake I would see him around. Always at the bar, around campus and at parties. He would always stop what he was doing and take a shot with me. He would usually show up to Box tailgates and our parties. He was a great friend to have, because he was loyal. He would stand up and get into fights for us. The kid who could kick the crap out of anyone is always a good friend to have.

That summer was excellent because there were always visitors around, my future roommates, my friends, and Jake and his crew. Living with Jake was a total trip. He was the first of a streak of roommates that who weren't great roommates, but totally amazing people to live with. I think, without Jake in that house the summer would have gone down as a boring wash.

E-Mail Legend

How do I know I am a Campus Legend at Michigan? Because 8 months after I graduate they are still detailing my exploits in the Michigan Daily. Last April I detailed the horrific disaster of group emailing. The post, including what I had emailed is here.

I send out this email as a joke, write the blog post and go on my merry way. Fast forward 8 months. The daily writes a story where they quote (actually misquote) the email I wrote.

It wasn’t, of course, the end. Later on, the 65th response took frustration to a new level.

“I swear that if any one else replies to all I will hunt you down on the umich directory and disable every electronic device that they own.,” it read. “I will convert your keyboard layout to Swahili. / The person who sent out the original e-mail spammed a group that she does not control. SHE CANT TAKE YOU OFF THE MAILING LIST. You have to e-mail the owner to be removed. DON’T EMAIL THE ENTIRE GROUP TO BE REMOVED. Seriously learn some email etiquette.”

That's how I know. 8 months after I graduate The Daily publishes emails I wrote.

The Roomates: Max

Over the course of my four years in college I lived with a total of 20 different people. If I count the people who stayed with us, or the practically live-in girlfriends that number approaches 30. 5 of them were girls, and some of them were quite blogable. Many of them also make up the readership of this blog. Time to burn some bridges. So lets start from the start: Max.

Max was my freshmen year roommate. Meaning that I didn't have any say in the matter of us living together. Max was from Chicago, and if I recall his facebook page said that he was at one time an Ambercrombie model. I later found out that this was completely untrue, but Max probably could have been. I've allured to him before in this blog, most aptly:

My freshmen year roommate would sit on our futon all day every Saturday and browse Facebook. He had one of two standard responses to everyone on Facebook.

1) This chick is hot. I'm going to facebook her.
or 2) He's in that frat? They're so gay.

I found his life to be interesting, but himself to be quite boring. His personality was not one that would fit itself to long conversations of philosophical importance, but rather to lists of the top 10 mammals with the largest dongs.

Within several days of living together, we both realized that we were very different people. He instantly went out and joined a frat. You could have taken one look at him and known that. Which ended up being nice, because while he was busy doing the elephant walk I had the room to myself. This story seems to describe Max perfectly. When he was rushing, his best friend on the hall also rushed. His best friend was pretty cool but after awhile he began to see through all of the pledging bullshit. He would come over and talk to Max about how he would keep doing it so that he could be a brother, but was disillusioned by the process. (He probably said that with 50-300 more of the phrase "Bro get this") Max would agree, and then he would go and tell the brothers that his best friend wasn't 100% into it. He managed to get his best friend kicked out of the pledge class. Classic Max.

We got along fine. Mostly because we quickly realized that we were never going to be friends. Then it just came down to co-existing. Plus, he had a smoking hot GF and they used to bone while they thought I was asleep. But as someone who was obsessed with his own vanity, he found it particularly hard to -how do you say- not be a douche bag.

During the next three years I would sometimes run into him around campus. Usually I would be walking with my friends and he would be going to the gym. We would say hi as we passed. That was about all that needed to be said.

Brian Wins epic game of risk

I play online risk at a site called Conquer Club. They have many different maps than the original board game, and players have 24 hours to take their turn. I usually go on once a day to take my turns.

Back in September I started out in an 8 person game of a map called Europa (shown below).

The game just finished today; 208 days and 128 rounds after it begun. It was a marathon game of attrition.

Sept 14th - Game Begins
Sept 17th - I capture the Hellenics
Oct 4th - I capture the 5 Mediterranean Island bonus
Oct 5th - First player is eliminated
Oct 9th - Second player is eliminated
Nov 3rd - I lose the Hellenics
Nov 12th - I capture the Italic States
Jan 15th - I lose the Mediterranean Island Bonus
March 4th - Third player is eliminated
March 8th - Fourth player is eliminated. This was the same player that had eliminated the third player just 4 days prior.
March 11th - I recapture the Mediterranean Island Bonus
March 16th - I capture Western Europe
March 18th - I capture Benelux. I am now the most powerful player in the game.
March 29th - I capture Central Europe. If the other players have any chance they need to stop me now.
April 1st - 5th player is eliminated. He attempted to to organize a large attack on me. He is justly killed and the bloody head on the fence post shows the two remaining players that they can't mess with me. I am now too strong, any attempts at resistance is futile.
April 9th - Sixth player is eliminated. The last two players were trying to combine forces to take me on. After finishing him off I am barely stronger than the last remaining player
April 10th - VICTORY! I get promoted to Captain.

It was a thrilling game that for months at a time were sheer boredom. But I emerged victorious because of patience, skill and a solid understanding of game theory.

Baseball Betting Analysis

I've decided to use the analysis I conducted on NFL season over/unders and apply it to Baseball.

The first thing that I did was compare the Vegas estimated total wins for the baseball against the possible number of total wins. I added all the teams over/unders and got 2441.5. Which is amazing because the baseball season only consists of 2430 games. That leaves 11.5 wins unaccounted for. The reason that this occurs is that most sports fans like to bet on their team to do well. Because off all this action on the overs, Vegas moves the lines to attract the betting on the other side.

Not only are the over/unders inflated on the aggregate, they are also somewhat normalized. During the 2009 season there were 5 teams that had less than 70 wins, Vegas predicts that no team this year will have below 70 wins. There have been at least 4 teams that go below 70 wins each of the last 5 years. If I could make a prop bet that at least three teams will have less than 70 wins, I would take it.

Here is a chart that compares this years predictions vs. last years results:
For comparison, I took the variance in number of wins between 2010 and 2009. Vegas predictions have a variance of 46.56 while the actual variance last year was 126.40.

I believe most of those 11 phantom wins that Vegas is predicting will affect teams in the bottom half of the league. Fans being hopelessly optimistic will always believe (and bet) that their teams will do better than expected. For football I actually compared the teams to their schedule and used Vegas's own odds to predict how well they would do against other teams. Since I don't have time to compare a 2430 game MLB season, I think I'll just bet the under on each of the bottom 7 teams. I'll throw a little more money on the ones at the very bottom.

Even though I don't know much about baseball I can still confidently predict the results of teams that I cannot name a player on the roster. 6 months from now I'll see how good my predictions were.

Bets:
Pittsburgh Pirates - under 70
Son Diego Padres - under 71
Toronto Blue Jays - under 71
Washington Nationals- under 71
Kansas City Royals - under 71.5
Baltimore Orioles - under 74
Houston Astros - under 74.5

November 22, 2005

It was a Tuesday. I'll never forget that. Freshmen year Tuesday nights weren't typically ones that produced blogable content. Mostly because I didn't have a blog back then. But this Tuesday was the last day of class before Thanksgiving. I still had a paper and a take home chemistry quiz due the next day but that was on the back of my mind as the noise from the garbage truck woke me up at 7:30 AM. What was on my mind was the Math 115 mid-term that I had that evening. Despite taking the class in high school as an AP I still felt woefully unprepared. I guess that's the way I felt before every exam , but after three months at college I didn't realize it yet. Being a very common Freshmen course it seemed like everyone in in my hall had the exam that night.

It was the type of exam that people didn't talk about on the way home. No one had finished the test early, and we all scrambled to get answers down at the end. As we walked back to the dorms in groups or threes and fours no one wanted to hear about problems that they were unsure of. As exams ended and a mass of freshmen began returning to their 10x11 cells, the only topic of conversation that floated through the Diag was about how blind-asshole drunk everyone was planning to get that night.

In the dorms I always snuck in 30-packs of cheap beer in an athletic bag. But since I had planned on having a few people over to celebrate the Thanksgiving break I went classy and sprung for longnecks.

A perfectly stocked dorm room mini-fridge

A couple of friends came over and we had about 8 people kicking back in the dorm room. With the lofts 8 people was about the maximum that could fit comfortably. When we got creative we could fit 20 people into a 110 Sq. Ft. dorm room party. Eventually we decided to play one of our favorite tailgate drinking games: Thunderstruck. For those unfamiliar it's basically a game where you stand in a circle with AC/DC's Thunderstruck on and one person drinks until they say the word "thunderstruck" and then the person to the left drinks until the next "thunderstruck". So beer gets chugged for the duration of the song. I have a picture of it, but this is after 2 people dropped out because they couldn't handle it, and Mark ran for the bathroom because he got caught with both solos.

Now that we were good and drunk, word got around that some of our upperclassmen friends were having a Thanksgiving shindig. We decided to brave the cold to go down to the party on the other side of campus. I remember feeling slightly out of place, and quite under dressed. But those qualms were quickly forgotten about when a super-senior named Elliott handed me a bottle of everclear and told me to chase with mashed potatoes. From there it was darkness.

I awoke the next morning in a dorm room that wasn't my own. The bed was around 9 feet off the ground. I had no idea how I got up there in my condition, but I knew I needed to get down. I felt like I hadn't had a drink of water in days. I climbed down and staggered down the hall sporting just a pair of boxers. I burst into the nearest bathroom which was ladies only, and proceeded to puke in the sink in front of several girls. Not to mind that it was 10 AM on a Wednesday, I looked around at all the girls staring at me and simply said "This isn't where I parked my car" and walked out. I soon came to realize that I was without my room key which explained why I awoke in a foreign bedroom. I could have asked my RA to let me in, but alas he would have opened the door to this scene:


So I spent the next day in a sort of hungover walk-of-shame. Finishing my paper, closing out a memo with my engineering 100 team, turning in a chem quiz and packing up to go home. I've read that college freshmen know if they are going to make it by Thanksgiving, and then fake it until Christmas before they drop out. By Thanksgiving Freshmen year, I knew it could make it, and by Christmas I knew I never wanted to go home.

The Futon

Futons are a lot like fruitcakes. You are never the first person to own it and you're never the last. At least that's what I learned about fruitcakes from sitcoms. Moving into college freshmen year, my sister told me I could take the futon they had at their house. She had gotten the futon by finding it on the street and taking it back to her house. No one knows the history before then.

After getting a new pad for it, we moved it into our freshmen year dorm room. My roommate very quickly decided that he would rather sleep on it then in his bed. Every weekend he and his smokin' hot roommate would sleep on the futon and his buddy from north campus would sleep on his bed. For some reason everyone called his friend "Boner". I enjoyed that.

The futon and the two unofficial roommates

We were on the last floor to get block furniture, so every room on our hall had futons. Sometimes while I was skipping my 1pm Chem 130 lecture, I would go futon hopping on the hall just chilling with whomever was around.

Later that year, I found myself in an opportunity to have local Ann Arbor band Tally Hall film a video on my Futon. That made my futon an internet sensation. I wouldn't even become an internet sensation for another 11 months. I've embedded the video for you're enjoyment.


That summer I moved the futon into my sophomore year house. I spent the next year sleeping on the futon. It was some of the worse sleep that I ever got. But that year the futon got some great stories attached to it.

My room sophomore year. Total college.

I have no idea who these girls are sitting on my futon. It was sometime sophomore year. Can anyone can tell me why these two girls are on my futon? I'm bamboozled.

Same story goes for these girls. Man, college all seems like a blur.

Probably my favorite futon picture. That was sometime after a football game. Perhaps the one where Fritz broke into his own house in a stupor.

Eventually the futon made it's way back home to my house for some repairs. Its legacy continued as it graced my little sisters dorm room. It still exists and continues its glory in her off campus house. Lots of hours, hundreds of friends and a few other things went down on that futon. It was a big part of my first two years of college.

Brian Wins a Bet

It was the bet of much lore. But today I can finally put it to rest. The bet was issued two years ago when Michigan Basketball was in the midst of one the worst season even by their mild standards. It was midway into a late night session at the Jug and I was arguing with Mark about how good the Michigan Basketball team would be 2 years from now. Mark firmly believed that we would be a top 4 seed in 2010 while I disagreed. I told him that if we were a top 4 seed that I would change my name to Dumpster baby. I even wrote about it in this here blog.

So back in 2008 I decided to send myself an email in the future to remind me about the bet. Today that E-Mail arrived.

Dear 2010 Brian,

2 years ago you bet Mark Ausborn that Michigan Basketball would not be a top 4 seed in the NCAA tournament within the next two seasons or you would change your name to Dumpster Baby. Well, now its time to check. Odds are they are still terrible, or that you've already lost another bet and changed your name to Dumpster Baby. This is totally blogable.

Also remember to punch Pete in the balls. No real reason.

Hugs and Kisses,
2008 Brian

So let's see just how wrong Mark was. Michigan is 13-15 overall and 6-10 in Big Ten play. They are not even on the bubble to make the tourney, and definitely not a 4-seed. My prediction was spot on. Although at the beginning of the season when they were ranked in the top 15 and returning most of their 2009 tourney team I was a little nervous.

This was totally blogable. Now I'm off to punch Pete in the balls.

Picture Memories - Orientation

I'm going to start putting up some pictures that I have from college and maybe snippets or stories of their relevance over the best 4 years of my life.

To start:
Orientation

This is one of the few Pictures I have from orientation. It is my Friend Paul with the very fist girl we met in our Post-High School lives. It always amazed me about how the people you meet at orientation you will actually know throughout college. Like Marky Marky. He was the second dude we met at orientation and since the first one was also named Mark, he became Marky Mark. We would always tell each other about Marky Mark sighting for the next four years until one time at a party we walked in and Evan said "Hey Marky Mark is here!" and he came up to us and said verbatim "Don't call me that".

The story of my orientation took me to a party at the Box house which 2 years later I would move into. The pistons had just won game 3 of the NBA finals and I did my first straight pull of vodka. I also blacked out and dropped trou in the middle of the party. Eventually I ended up in this position.

I had to be driven back to my sisters house, which was only 6 houses up the block. I was woken up at 7:30 lying on a tile bathroom floor and covered in my own vomit. I didn't even have time to go back to East Quad because my enrollment appointment was at 8AM on North Campus. I showed up smelling of alcohol and covered in puke, the advisor took one look at me and sighed.

On the way home from orientation, I knew that I was going to have a hell of a next 4 years.

Work Emails 1

I work with mosty engineers that are about my age. It's amazing to see how quickly emails can go from innocent, professional emails to any direction we decide to take them. Best to start from the bottom.

-----Original Message-----
From: Jonathan
Sent: Friday, February 12, 2010 2:29 PM
To: Sara; Brian
Subject: RE: ESB 1st floor square footage

I like the direction that conversation went. Well done.

-----Original Message-----
From: Sara
To: Jonathan; Brian
Subject: RE: ESB 1st floor square footage

OMG!!!!!!!!

-----Original Message-----
From: Jonathan
To: Brian; Sara
Subject: RE: ESB 1st floor square footage

I have nipples Brussels, can you milk me?

-----Original Message-----
From: Brian
To: Sara; Jonathan
Subject: RE: ESB 1st floor square footage

You can milk anything with nipples.

-----Original Message-----
From: Sara
To: Brian; Jonathan
Subject: RE: ESB 1st floor square footage

Like for breast milk, with a pump...it's weird

-----Original Message-----
From: Brian
To: Sara; Jonathan
Subject: RE: ESB 1st floor square footage

Describe this "boob pumping"

-----Original Message-----
From: Sara
To: Jonathan; Brian
Subject: RE: ESB 1st floor square footage

I wasn't sure if you meant like to do construction to put a door on the outside or something. I've never seen anyone use the couch...oh wait yes I have. The one girl used to pump her boob in there...HAHAHAHA so funny

-----Original Message-----
From: Jonathan
To: Sara; Brian
Subject: RE: ESB 1st floor square footage

I was 100% joking about an office. I think that would violate like 10 codes. And, you'd want headphones in like all the time.

-----Original Message-----
From: Sara
To: Jonathan; Brian
Subject: RE: ESB 1st floor square footage

There is a couch in there, but I don't think it would be big enough for an office. It would be crazy small, almost like a closet.

-----Original Message-----
From: Jonathan
To: Brian; Sara
Subject: ESB 1st floor square footage

B-Russ,

Attached is the square footage of all the rooms (excluding non-office areas) on the 1st floor of ESB. I got this information from the AutoCAD file (not the incorrect Visio file layout. I just used Visio because I could enter in the values). The square footage values are in (RED).

I will work on the 2nd floor next.

Sara,

See the "possible office" attachment. Regarding the gray area- what is this mysterious room in the girl's restroom? Are there couches?

More importantly, could we turn it into an office?

That is all, for now.

Whistler Weekend

One of the questions asked in my job interview was "Do you ski or snowboard?".
I replied, "Yes I was on my high school Ski Team"
"Good, because were going to Whister in January."

This past weekend was what has become the legendary Whistler Weekend. I had heard much lore about previous weekends involving a Major in the US Marines, a coffee pot and Red Bull + Vodka. Luckily being just out of college I knew I could keep up with these fools who had a couple of years on me.

We took Friday off work and drove up. The drive up on the Sea to Sky highway was absolutely stunning. The 11 of us were in a condo right by the village that had a Hot Tub. We were close enough we could walk to the the base. The accommodations were nice. We got up there around 5 and immediately started drinking. We had bought some stuff at the duty free on the way up. Duty free is legit, I got 2 fifths of Beefeater for $20 and a fifth of Bacardi Select for $15. Once I started drinking I forgot that I hadn't eaten dinner and I was completely wasted by 7PM.

We went out to the bar soon after that. We got into the bar and I went up to the bar to order the first round and bartender almost cut me off before serving me anything. I believe his exact words were "You guys look pretty sloshed already, I'll let you have this one, but slow down." While most of the next 3 hours exist as a 30 minutes in my memory, I went and sat down at a table full of girls and just started hitting on all of them. You see, MLK weekend is also College weekend, so there were lots of college girls around. I usually told them that I was a Senior at Michigan, but then soon after would forget the lie and talk about how I worked in Seattle. My biggest problem was that I was too drunk to remember anyone's name. I would start talking to a girl and then instantly have to ask her what her name was again and again. Eventually my friends found me on the dance floor grinding on a girl and to my dismay we left. Somehow I got lost because my next memory is me riding in a bus. But the bar was only like a 5 minute walk from our place. I got of the bus and bit it on a patch of ice. Eventually I found my way home and made it to bed.

Bright and way too early the next morning people were getting up to hit the slopes. It was a gorgeous day and I was proud to have made it to the mountain by 10 AM. There are two mountians that you can Ski from the base of Whistler. One gondola takes you to Whistler mountain and the other to Blackcomb. They face each other and there is a gondola that runs between the tops of both mountains. The gondola just opened up last year and is something like the longest unsupported span for any gondola in the world. It's really cool. The two days before we got there the mountain had been closed because they had a storm dump over 4 feet of fresh powder. The two mountains form the largest ski-able area in North America, and are 54% larger than the next largest (Vail). It has over 200 runs, of which I maybe went down 30. The skiing was awesome.

Saturday night we all went out for sushi and then after some pre-gaming and Rock Band we went out. My co-worker had managed to get us all on the list at a few of the bars. So instead of a 20 minute wait and a $25 cover, we were given VIP access. This time I just stuck with the line that I had graduated in Way. After getting brutally turned down from an Oregon State girl, me and my buddy Dan found two Sophomores at U-Dub who were no joke named Hope and Roxy. I swear those weren't their stage names either. I took the job of Wingman and grabbed Roxy and went to the dance floor. Roxy was less cute than Hope (who had a terrific rack) but she was a great dancer. A few shots and songs later we were making out and it was closing time. Dan gave the girl his number and made her text him even though she was on roaming charges. As Dan and I walked home we met two 30-something year olds that we tried to convince to come back to our hot tub. They weren't having any of it.

Sunday I was super hung over. Between my Unidentified Drinking Injuries (UDI's) and skiing I was pretty beat up. We made it up to Blackcomb and get some fresh powder that had fallen the previous night. We got some solid runs in were about to head over the Peak to Peak gondola to go back to Whistler Mountain. From the chairlift we could see a spot near the top where snowboarders were getting some mad air off of this lip on an ungroomed area. I decided to jump it on my ski's. With everyone skiing down the mountain and on the chairlift watching I decided to go for. Footloose had just come on my iPod so as I raced towards this 10 foot jump I dedicated my jump to Swayze. I shot out of the jump and I was told I was about 15 feet above the lip. I came down about 20 feet down the mountain and landed in 2 feet of powder. The instant my skis hit the powder they stopped and I wrecked face first into the snow. I could hear the collective "OHHHHHH" from everyone who was watching. People up the hill said it they saw me take the header and then it was a cloud of snow. Luckily it was soft powder so except for a mouthful of snow I was fine. The adrenaline rush stayed with me for the next hour.

While we took our time skiing down Whistler I went down a part of run where they are doing the Super-G in the Olympics in a few weeks. It was sweet, and even though my legs were like jello I shot down it. That night we went out to a Japanese steakhouse for dinner and then back to the condo. We were too beat to go out so instead we invented a drinking game for The Hangover. It involves drinking everytime they say the name of their lost friend Doug. It is great because you get to drink at least once every five minutes, and there are a few parts where you really need to chug. Like in the desert drug dealer scene, and when Ed Helms sings his ballad about Doug. I was drinking out of an abandoned two-liter bottle, so even though I only had two drinks, a liter of G n' T and a liter of Rum + Coke really put me on my ass.

Part of The Stroll in the Village

Overall, I came away super impressed with Whistler. The Skiing is unmatched. The village is beautiful and fun. Maybe it was just because it was college weekend, but the crowds seemed to be more fun too, unlike at Aspen where everyone is trying to be sophisticated and classy. Also, as an added bonus, all of the employees are from Australia. I don't need to detail what I would do for a girl with an Australian accent. My only complaint about anything would be that the lift lines were pretty long. Usually they were around 15 minutes but a couple of times they were over 25. But that's somewhat minor.



After consuming McDonald's for breakfast, Beef Jerky and 5 hour energy for lunch and eating massive dinners, my digestive system is completely wrecked. But one of the guys we were talking to on the lift told us how his hang over cure was - no joke - Red Bull and Pedialyte. The other guy on the lift then chimed in "Yeah, that's always what I do too". Is this common? How have I not heard of this yet? It makes sense though, Pedialyte is like packed full of hydration. I just need to figure out how to buy it without looking crazy.

So I'll leave you with a list of my current injuries and how they occurred:
Right shin scabbed up - Ski Boot
Left knee scabbed - Skiing mishap
Right armpit bruised - Co-worker body slam
Left bicep bruised - ????
Right elbow sore and bruised - Falling on the ice
Right pinky blood blisters - ??????
Tailbone - Falling on the ice while blackout/body slam
Whole body soreness - Whistler Weekend '10