Don't Make Me Punch You in the Balls... Again.
August/29/2007 12:46 PM Filed in: Random
This past saturday I was out at Slide (upscale San Francisco nightclub) with JGant, Clay, and Cedric. The thing about Slide is that it's a lot like L.A. clubs. Tight women basically can just walk right in, while women who the bouncers think aren't good enough to walk right in and all men without a VIP table have to wait out side. Even then, men can't get in unless they have at least 50% women in their group. Well, Clay and I were on the list, so we didn't have to worry about female accompaniment. JGant and Cedric were on their own to find some womens to help them get into the club.
JGant was the only one drinking that night so it was no surprise when we walked back up with the only 3 girls in line that I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Then again, he had to make his way in somehow. Right before we got in, 3 other girls that I wouldn't call terrible, butI also wouldn't call the cream of the crop walked by and said "Look at those guys," clearly talking about JGant and myself.
Cedric, Me, and JGant at Slide
I disregarded all six of the women and made my way inside. As usual, there was a lot of talent in there. I'm telling you, in S.F. you can't get more eye candy than slide. As my eyes were making their way around the room, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned around and saw that it was that same group of girls who were looking at us outside. Like I said, they weren't terrible, but I mean, I really wasn't interested.
One of them yelled over the music "Why don't you loosen up and dance?"
I, having a complete understanding of club speak, replied "Umm well, I need to drink before I can dance, sorry."
See, in club speak, that translates to "I'm trying to be nice, but I'm just not interested in dancing with you." Everybody knows this. I mean, maybe some people persist beyond that point, but it's rare. These girls were that rare case. They continued to ask me to dance and to loosen up. Finally, I walked over to Clay who was at the bar and I said "Clay I am only speaking to you so that these girls will think I'm giving you a drink order and then leave me alone. What is gonna happen is, when you get your drink, we are gonna walk to the other side of the club and avoid them."
When Clay got his drink, I quickly grabbed JGant and Cedric and we went to the other side of the building. The girls followed. Dammit. JGant and I had already started dancing, so I couldn't use the "I need my drink" line again. When JGant and I get going, we command the attention of the whole room, so it would be tough to get these girls to leave now. They all surrounded me and started trying to get me to dance with them. No way was I gonna honor their request. Within a 5 foot radius of me there were plenty of girls worth dancing with who would see this exchange and assume that I was with one of them. I couldn't let that happen.
Somewhere along the way, they scouted that JGant was drunk. I mean he was just wasted. I don't know how this happened, it didn't look like he drank that much. Either way, the girls now had two targets: me and JGant. JGant started breaking them off one by one. Honestly, I couldn't believe he was really going at them this hard. I know he has higher aspirations for a place like Slide, but at the end of the day, it was just dancing so I wasn't concerned.
I wasn't concerned until I heard from Cedric that he and JGant had made a bet. $100 would go to the man who could take a girl home with him that night. I remember thinking "Oh no." With this bet in mind, JGant wouldn't pay any attention to the classy, attractive women in the building. He would focus his attention on those women who were ready like spaghetti, regardless of any other factors. Those women were already right in front of him. I realized that we had been there for maybe 45 minutes and that those 3 girls were still all surrounding him. I don't think he realized that they had cut him off from the rest of the group. I was still being nice to them because they were just doing them. Then they started taking hella pictures. Pictures of me.
When the photos started, I went from being nice to being angry. I went to the one with the camera and told her to stop taking pictures of me. She asked if I was somebody important and I told that I wasn't. Then she came at me with "Then why do you care?"
"Why do I care? It doesn't matter why I care. The point is, quit taking coddamn pictures. I don't need a reason." Mean? Maybe. Necessary? Absolutely.
I made another effort to relocate our group. Cedric and Clay went to the other side of the room, while I had to literally drag JGant away from these women. When we got to the other side of the room, I set JGant up to dance with a much better woman who was not ugly, or wasted, or taking photos of us. I swear I must have turned my head for a second when the other 3 girls were back, tugging at his shirt. He turned around and started dancing with them again. I quickly pulled him away and moved the group to the other side of the room again. These girls were killing our whole situation in that bad boy and they knew it. They were standing around us like we all came in together.
The followed us again, and this time they put the full court press on JGant. The started grabbing him and rubbing him, slow dancing him and caressing him. I really think he had no idea what it looked like. It looked like they were raping him. They basically controlled his every move. We had been in there for almost 2 hours and they were still just making my man look bad. I made a couple more relocation attempts, but they kept following us. Worse yet, they kept taking pictures. I said to JGant: "Tell your girls to quit taking pictures of me or I will break that coddamn camera. No joke." He seemed to listen, but when he went to talk to them, it turned into him giving out lap dances.
It was time for us to leave JGant alone for a while and make our own moves. For about 30 minutes, clay and I made moves all over Slide, really just enjoying ourselves. When we came back to near where JGant was, one of the 3 girls was kissing some other black guy near the bar, another one was grinding up on someone else, and JGant was hugged up with the ugliest one against the wall.
Clay, Cedric and I had a quick meeting. Should we let JGant wake up the next day ashamed, disgusted, and possibly carrying Herpes? Or should we end this now, knowing that he would get mad, but thank us later. There was still about 20 more minutes of good time at Slide and he could make moves in that time no doubt. I concluded that I would make one last effort to get him away.
I walked up to JGant and told him to leave the girl behind. It was crazy because the other two girls left their partners to come back and stop JGant from leaving. He finally told them he had to go and began to walk away when the main girl grabbed his shirt and wouldn't let him get away. I think he was so drunk that he forgot that he was supposed to leave. He turned around and kept talking to them. I had seen enough. These girls were not playing fair.
I walked over to Cedric and told him to watch. I walked back over to JGant and socked him right in the balls, hard. He bent over and fell the the ground. The girls knew that his attention was diverted and they snapped at me.
"Oh my God that's so mean, why would you do that? That was so un-cool," the main one said.
"Hey, he's my friend. He can be mad at me if he wants, but I had to get him in the one place where he would stop thinking about you," I fired back.
Meanwhile, JGant was still on the ground holding his balls very gingerly. He got up and hobbled over to the bar, where he placed both hands on his knees and stayed bent over for a few minutes. I walked over to him and let him know he could hate me, but I had to do what I had to do. The girls were nowhere in sight so I finally felt like he could have a good time.
Once his little JGants recovered, he found a new set of women to entertain. I felt like a proud father who had steered his child away from drugs. I went on about my business and had my fun. Then I saw the 3 girls come back into view. They walked right up JGant and grabbed his hands. They actually grabbed him away from the new girls he was dancing with and walked him over to the bar.
This time I didn't hesitate. I walked right over there. I saw he was smiling at their words so I reared back and socked him in the balls again.
"You're an assh#le," one of the girls said as they made their way toward the exit and finally left. JGant stayed down much longer this time. He was clearly hurt. I leaned down towards JGant and said, just loud enough for him to hear me, "Better to have sore balls today, than to have Gonorrhea tomorrow."
I don't know if he recovered from that second punch that night. He also lost his phone. Im pretty sure I saw him crying 10 minutes later. But he probably just had something in both his eyes. He was over all of it an hour later, so we're cool.
A lot of craziness for my last bay area night out. I head to Jersey next week so it's time to make moves. I don't think I can sock anyone in the balls out there. Especially not twice.
JGant was the only one drinking that night so it was no surprise when we walked back up with the only 3 girls in line that I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Then again, he had to make his way in somehow. Right before we got in, 3 other girls that I wouldn't call terrible, butI also wouldn't call the cream of the crop walked by and said "Look at those guys," clearly talking about JGant and myself.
Cedric, Me, and JGant at Slide
I disregarded all six of the women and made my way inside. As usual, there was a lot of talent in there. I'm telling you, in S.F. you can't get more eye candy than slide. As my eyes were making their way around the room, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned around and saw that it was that same group of girls who were looking at us outside. Like I said, they weren't terrible, but I mean, I really wasn't interested.
One of them yelled over the music "Why don't you loosen up and dance?"
I, having a complete understanding of club speak, replied "Umm well, I need to drink before I can dance, sorry."
See, in club speak, that translates to "I'm trying to be nice, but I'm just not interested in dancing with you." Everybody knows this. I mean, maybe some people persist beyond that point, but it's rare. These girls were that rare case. They continued to ask me to dance and to loosen up. Finally, I walked over to Clay who was at the bar and I said "Clay I am only speaking to you so that these girls will think I'm giving you a drink order and then leave me alone. What is gonna happen is, when you get your drink, we are gonna walk to the other side of the club and avoid them."
When Clay got his drink, I quickly grabbed JGant and Cedric and we went to the other side of the building. The girls followed. Dammit. JGant and I had already started dancing, so I couldn't use the "I need my drink" line again. When JGant and I get going, we command the attention of the whole room, so it would be tough to get these girls to leave now. They all surrounded me and started trying to get me to dance with them. No way was I gonna honor their request. Within a 5 foot radius of me there were plenty of girls worth dancing with who would see this exchange and assume that I was with one of them. I couldn't let that happen.
Somewhere along the way, they scouted that JGant was drunk. I mean he was just wasted. I don't know how this happened, it didn't look like he drank that much. Either way, the girls now had two targets: me and JGant. JGant started breaking them off one by one. Honestly, I couldn't believe he was really going at them this hard. I know he has higher aspirations for a place like Slide, but at the end of the day, it was just dancing so I wasn't concerned.
I wasn't concerned until I heard from Cedric that he and JGant had made a bet. $100 would go to the man who could take a girl home with him that night. I remember thinking "Oh no." With this bet in mind, JGant wouldn't pay any attention to the classy, attractive women in the building. He would focus his attention on those women who were ready like spaghetti, regardless of any other factors. Those women were already right in front of him. I realized that we had been there for maybe 45 minutes and that those 3 girls were still all surrounding him. I don't think he realized that they had cut him off from the rest of the group. I was still being nice to them because they were just doing them. Then they started taking hella pictures. Pictures of me.
When the photos started, I went from being nice to being angry. I went to the one with the camera and told her to stop taking pictures of me. She asked if I was somebody important and I told that I wasn't. Then she came at me with "Then why do you care?"
"Why do I care? It doesn't matter why I care. The point is, quit taking coddamn pictures. I don't need a reason." Mean? Maybe. Necessary? Absolutely.
I made another effort to relocate our group. Cedric and Clay went to the other side of the room, while I had to literally drag JGant away from these women. When we got to the other side of the room, I set JGant up to dance with a much better woman who was not ugly, or wasted, or taking photos of us. I swear I must have turned my head for a second when the other 3 girls were back, tugging at his shirt. He turned around and started dancing with them again. I quickly pulled him away and moved the group to the other side of the room again. These girls were killing our whole situation in that bad boy and they knew it. They were standing around us like we all came in together.
The followed us again, and this time they put the full court press on JGant. The started grabbing him and rubbing him, slow dancing him and caressing him. I really think he had no idea what it looked like. It looked like they were raping him. They basically controlled his every move. We had been in there for almost 2 hours and they were still just making my man look bad. I made a couple more relocation attempts, but they kept following us. Worse yet, they kept taking pictures. I said to JGant: "Tell your girls to quit taking pictures of me or I will break that coddamn camera. No joke." He seemed to listen, but when he went to talk to them, it turned into him giving out lap dances.
It was time for us to leave JGant alone for a while and make our own moves. For about 30 minutes, clay and I made moves all over Slide, really just enjoying ourselves. When we came back to near where JGant was, one of the 3 girls was kissing some other black guy near the bar, another one was grinding up on someone else, and JGant was hugged up with the ugliest one against the wall.
Clay, Cedric and I had a quick meeting. Should we let JGant wake up the next day ashamed, disgusted, and possibly carrying Herpes? Or should we end this now, knowing that he would get mad, but thank us later. There was still about 20 more minutes of good time at Slide and he could make moves in that time no doubt. I concluded that I would make one last effort to get him away.
I walked up to JGant and told him to leave the girl behind. It was crazy because the other two girls left their partners to come back and stop JGant from leaving. He finally told them he had to go and began to walk away when the main girl grabbed his shirt and wouldn't let him get away. I think he was so drunk that he forgot that he was supposed to leave. He turned around and kept talking to them. I had seen enough. These girls were not playing fair.
I walked over to Cedric and told him to watch. I walked back over to JGant and socked him right in the balls, hard. He bent over and fell the the ground. The girls knew that his attention was diverted and they snapped at me.
"Oh my God that's so mean, why would you do that? That was so un-cool," the main one said.
"Hey, he's my friend. He can be mad at me if he wants, but I had to get him in the one place where he would stop thinking about you," I fired back.
Meanwhile, JGant was still on the ground holding his balls very gingerly. He got up and hobbled over to the bar, where he placed both hands on his knees and stayed bent over for a few minutes. I walked over to him and let him know he could hate me, but I had to do what I had to do. The girls were nowhere in sight so I finally felt like he could have a good time.
Once his little JGants recovered, he found a new set of women to entertain. I felt like a proud father who had steered his child away from drugs. I went on about my business and had my fun. Then I saw the 3 girls come back into view. They walked right up JGant and grabbed his hands. They actually grabbed him away from the new girls he was dancing with and walked him over to the bar.
This time I didn't hesitate. I walked right over there. I saw he was smiling at their words so I reared back and socked him in the balls again.
"You're an assh#le," one of the girls said as they made their way toward the exit and finally left. JGant stayed down much longer this time. He was clearly hurt. I leaned down towards JGant and said, just loud enough for him to hear me, "Better to have sore balls today, than to have Gonorrhea tomorrow."
I don't know if he recovered from that second punch that night. He also lost his phone. Im pretty sure I saw him crying 10 minutes later. But he probably just had something in both his eyes. He was over all of it an hour later, so we're cool.
A lot of craziness for my last bay area night out. I head to Jersey next week so it's time to make moves. I don't think I can sock anyone in the balls out there. Especially not twice.
|
Elaine Mooseman is Going Down!
August/29/2007 12:42 PM Filed in: Random
Where oh where has toomuchrodbenson.com gone? What happened? I tried to check for an update and there was no longer anything there.
I got emails saying all of that and more over the last few days. I didn't really have a good answer for anyone. I, like you, thought that this beautiful thing called toomuchrodbenson.com was dead. Since this has been spread by word of mouth and linkage, I figured the time had come when TMRB would be no more. Let me explain...
Back on July 15th of 2006, I started toomuchrodbenson.com when I bought the domain name from Godaddy.com. Those sexually charged commercials really got to me. Anyways, I had the domain for a year. When I changed hosts from Apple to IXhosting, I was told that I could move my domain name to IX web hosting services. I did this and got my cancellation notification from GoDaddy. Boom. Perfect. The new TMRB.com was up and running just fine for the last 6 weeks.
Well, not so perfect. I got an email from GoDaddy about 5 days ago. It basically said the same thing as the cancellation email I got on July 15th, 2007. I disregarded it. About an hour later (like 2 am), toomuchrodbenson.com was gone. I don't know where it went, it was just gone. It routed me to some GoDaddy error page. Confused, I decided I'd sleep on it and call GoDaddy in the morning.
I wake up and checked it out again, just to make sure. This time I was forwarded to Sedo Site Parking. Oh snap. My domain name was now parked. Parking basically means that whoever owns the domain makes money each time somebody attempts to access tmrb.com. Well, I was now really confused because I, Rod Benson, am the creator and owner of toomuchRODBENSON. How in the world could it get parked?
I called IXwebhosting and asked them why my site was not showing up. The guy on the phone asked "May I ask who is calling?"
I told him "Rod Benson. That's why it's call toomuchrodbenson, because that's me."
"Well, that's why I asked. It says here that the name toomuchrodbenson.com is owned by a woman named Elaine Mooseman. I can't tell you anything beyond that," he said.
I hung up the phone and whispered 5 words through my teeth: "Elaine Mooseman is going down."
I knew that my options were limited. What could I really do about this? I wasn't even entirely sure that I heard the name right. Elaine Mooseman? Why would she buy toomuchRODBENSON? I'm pretty sure that toomuchelainemooseman.com was available if she just wanted to be a copy cat. But no, she took the name I created years ago with my instant messenger screen name. I can still remember when I got the idea. I was watching the tape of Cal vs. Stanford hoops from my junior year, and I had just run off 12 straight points. As 11 and 12 fell through the net, the announcer said "It's just too much Rod Benson, too much number zero!"
Now Elaine Mooseman had it. Some woman, somewhere, knowingly or unknowingly had overtaken me in the 7 hours between when I fell asleep and when I woke up. I called up GoDaddy. They couldn't tell me anything because I didn't know my account number or the last 4 digits of the credit card I originally used to buy the domain. I mean coddamn, I lost my wallet like twice since then. It was then that I knew it was over. The dream was dead.
I began telling people what happened. Over the next couple of days, I had a few interesting conversations with people who were all shocked and appalled. One of my homies, Kelly, even said "Give it up. It's over. They got you."
I contemplated just using 2muchrodbenson.com, but then the whole word of mouth basis for this site would be dead. I got an IM from a friend of mine minutes after I looked into the 2much thing. For the sake of time, I'll post the conversation here. For the sake of children, I have edited it a bit:
Me: Mike:
2muchrodbenson.com
the new domain
what the hell
will be up later today
in process now
cant believe some breezy bought it
my word of mouth hype took a serious hit
coddamn, that's messed up
let's find out who bought it
we'll mess them up big time
by word of mouth
i know who bought it
its some woman named elaine mooseman
or something
i didnt get a spelling
do you have a location or anything?
nope
4:20 PM
well i'll talk to my boy. that's the biggest B.S. ever
4:25 PM
Elaine Moosman (address edited)
7*** H***** M*** C***
W**** J******, ** *****
United States
i think you should have people write her and tell you what they think
it could be the first entry on your new site
oh snap how did u find her
or did u just google the name
there are sites where you can get the info on who registers a domain
it doesnt show an email?
i bet we could find a phone number too
let me check
elaine******@msn.com
hahah forreal what page r u on?
where is this from
4:30 PM
my friend got it for me
mann wow
well time to send out the emails
hahaha
try and contact her first
ask her what the hell
yea im about to
i'll get you her phone number
(***) 566-4306
there you go
it's on like donkey kong
oh snap
im bought to call her right now
this is blog worthy
absolutely
dialing
haha hits like an old woman
voice mail tho
damn im not leaving a msg
damn
haha
4:35 PM
maybe she's at work, let's see if i can find any company info
hahah wow
i guess utah is like 530 right now
http://www.elaine-moosman-online.com/index.php
what the?
im gonna get screwed here
this does not seem like an old woman
4:40 PM
who is this guy, ur friend?
mann
you have a couple options, but it all starts with getting in touch with the b**ch
what are the options
a nice blog entry involving the public information. leave it up until you get your domain back.
let me think, there has to be something else you can do. it's totally screwed up
4:50 PM
damn this is crazy that i have all her info
this friend of urs is on another level
4:55 PM
did you send an email?
no
i have a phone number
blow up her home phone
5:00 PM
hell yeah
i just tried calling myself
hahaha
nice
just think, if all Rod Benson fans call the number...
at like 2am
hahaha
have like a call time
hahaha, that'd be f'ing great
break it into a couple groups
have a group call at 2am, another at 3:30, another at 4
i want to talk to her first
before i release the info
yeah, for sure
5:10 PM
i love your new away message (Elaine Mooseman is going down)
she is
i have a feeling she wont give it back
but i also have a feeling she has like 50 sites like mine
right. i'm on her site right now doing a contact us message about a different business matter that I made up. i can hopefully get some more info on her this way
hahah mannn
on my side!
5:15 PM
my name is Earl Garrick and I'm contacting them about web sales
hahah earl garrick
hahaha
Earl Garrick runs a website based on used auto parts
end of convo
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So after I finished talking to Mike, I called her up again. This time she answered. She definitely was an older woman.
"Hello," she said.
I got it started..."May I speak with Elaine please?"
"This is Elaine," she said again.
That's when I broke into it. I told her everything. I told her how I started toomuchrodbenson last year. I told her about how it has grown over that time. I told her that somehow I had lost it all for reasons unknown. I basically painted the picture of a sad, strange, broken man with nothing left except this domain name. The thing is, I was sad, I am strange, and toomuchrodbenson is all I have.
Elaine then explained to me that she is retired and that she makes her money these days buying domains that come recommended from domain appraisal services. She told me that my domain was appraised with a very high value. Kinda sweet. Then she said that she would give it back to me, no questions asked. I think her exact words were "Happy Birthday."
After a couple of hours of info switching, conference calls between myself, Elaine, and GoDaddy, toomuchrodbenson.com was mine once again. Elaine Mooseman is not going down. In fact, she went up big time in my book. If you ever run into her, sing her praises. Pay for her meal. Thank her for keeping the dream going baby. She knows whats up with boom tho.
Elaine, if you saw the title of this article, just know that you are definitely NOT going down.
The end.
I got emails saying all of that and more over the last few days. I didn't really have a good answer for anyone. I, like you, thought that this beautiful thing called toomuchrodbenson.com was dead. Since this has been spread by word of mouth and linkage, I figured the time had come when TMRB would be no more. Let me explain...
Back on July 15th of 2006, I started toomuchrodbenson.com when I bought the domain name from Godaddy.com. Those sexually charged commercials really got to me. Anyways, I had the domain for a year. When I changed hosts from Apple to IXhosting, I was told that I could move my domain name to IX web hosting services. I did this and got my cancellation notification from GoDaddy. Boom. Perfect. The new TMRB.com was up and running just fine for the last 6 weeks.
Well, not so perfect. I got an email from GoDaddy about 5 days ago. It basically said the same thing as the cancellation email I got on July 15th, 2007. I disregarded it. About an hour later (like 2 am), toomuchrodbenson.com was gone. I don't know where it went, it was just gone. It routed me to some GoDaddy error page. Confused, I decided I'd sleep on it and call GoDaddy in the morning.
I wake up and checked it out again, just to make sure. This time I was forwarded to Sedo Site Parking. Oh snap. My domain name was now parked. Parking basically means that whoever owns the domain makes money each time somebody attempts to access tmrb.com. Well, I was now really confused because I, Rod Benson, am the creator and owner of toomuchRODBENSON. How in the world could it get parked?
I called IXwebhosting and asked them why my site was not showing up. The guy on the phone asked "May I ask who is calling?"
I told him "Rod Benson. That's why it's call toomuchrodbenson, because that's me."
"Well, that's why I asked. It says here that the name toomuchrodbenson.com is owned by a woman named Elaine Mooseman. I can't tell you anything beyond that," he said.
I hung up the phone and whispered 5 words through my teeth: "Elaine Mooseman is going down."
I knew that my options were limited. What could I really do about this? I wasn't even entirely sure that I heard the name right. Elaine Mooseman? Why would she buy toomuchRODBENSON? I'm pretty sure that toomuchelainemooseman.com was available if she just wanted to be a copy cat. But no, she took the name I created years ago with my instant messenger screen name. I can still remember when I got the idea. I was watching the tape of Cal vs. Stanford hoops from my junior year, and I had just run off 12 straight points. As 11 and 12 fell through the net, the announcer said "It's just too much Rod Benson, too much number zero!"
Now Elaine Mooseman had it. Some woman, somewhere, knowingly or unknowingly had overtaken me in the 7 hours between when I fell asleep and when I woke up. I called up GoDaddy. They couldn't tell me anything because I didn't know my account number or the last 4 digits of the credit card I originally used to buy the domain. I mean coddamn, I lost my wallet like twice since then. It was then that I knew it was over. The dream was dead.
I began telling people what happened. Over the next couple of days, I had a few interesting conversations with people who were all shocked and appalled. One of my homies, Kelly, even said "Give it up. It's over. They got you."
I contemplated just using 2muchrodbenson.com, but then the whole word of mouth basis for this site would be dead. I got an IM from a friend of mine minutes after I looked into the 2much thing. For the sake of time, I'll post the conversation here. For the sake of children, I have edited it a bit:
Me: Mike:
2muchrodbenson.com
the new domain
what the hell
will be up later today
in process now
cant believe some breezy bought it
my word of mouth hype took a serious hit
coddamn, that's messed up
let's find out who bought it
we'll mess them up big time
by word of mouth
i know who bought it
its some woman named elaine mooseman
or something
i didnt get a spelling
do you have a location or anything?
nope
4:20 PM
well i'll talk to my boy. that's the biggest B.S. ever
4:25 PM
Elaine Moosman (address edited)
7*** H***** M*** C***
W**** J******, ** *****
United States
i think you should have people write her and tell you what they think
it could be the first entry on your new site
oh snap how did u find her
or did u just google the name
there are sites where you can get the info on who registers a domain
it doesnt show an email?
i bet we could find a phone number too
let me check
elaine******@msn.com
hahah forreal what page r u on?
where is this from
4:30 PM
my friend got it for me
mann wow
well time to send out the emails
hahaha
try and contact her first
ask her what the hell
yea im about to
i'll get you her phone number
(***) 566-4306
there you go
it's on like donkey kong
oh snap
im bought to call her right now
this is blog worthy
absolutely
dialing
haha hits like an old woman
voice mail tho
damn im not leaving a msg
damn
haha
4:35 PM
maybe she's at work, let's see if i can find any company info
hahah wow
i guess utah is like 530 right now
http://www.elaine-moosman-online.com/index.php
what the?
im gonna get screwed here
this does not seem like an old woman
4:40 PM
who is this guy, ur friend?
mann
you have a couple options, but it all starts with getting in touch with the b**ch
what are the options
a nice blog entry involving the public information. leave it up until you get your domain back.
let me think, there has to be something else you can do. it's totally screwed up
4:50 PM
damn this is crazy that i have all her info
this friend of urs is on another level
4:55 PM
did you send an email?
no
i have a phone number
blow up her home phone
5:00 PM
hell yeah
i just tried calling myself
hahaha
nice
just think, if all Rod Benson fans call the number...
at like 2am
hahaha
have like a call time
hahaha, that'd be f'ing great
break it into a couple groups
have a group call at 2am, another at 3:30, another at 4
i want to talk to her first
before i release the info
yeah, for sure
5:10 PM
i love your new away message (Elaine Mooseman is going down)
she is
i have a feeling she wont give it back
but i also have a feeling she has like 50 sites like mine
right. i'm on her site right now doing a contact us message about a different business matter that I made up. i can hopefully get some more info on her this way
hahah mannn
on my side!
5:15 PM
my name is Earl Garrick and I'm contacting them about web sales
hahah earl garrick
hahaha
Earl Garrick runs a website based on used auto parts
end of convo
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So after I finished talking to Mike, I called her up again. This time she answered. She definitely was an older woman.
"Hello," she said.
I got it started..."May I speak with Elaine please?"
"This is Elaine," she said again.
That's when I broke into it. I told her everything. I told her how I started toomuchrodbenson last year. I told her about how it has grown over that time. I told her that somehow I had lost it all for reasons unknown. I basically painted the picture of a sad, strange, broken man with nothing left except this domain name. The thing is, I was sad, I am strange, and toomuchrodbenson is all I have.
Elaine then explained to me that she is retired and that she makes her money these days buying domains that come recommended from domain appraisal services. She told me that my domain was appraised with a very high value. Kinda sweet. Then she said that she would give it back to me, no questions asked. I think her exact words were "Happy Birthday."
After a couple of hours of info switching, conference calls between myself, Elaine, and GoDaddy, toomuchrodbenson.com was mine once again. Elaine Mooseman is not going down. In fact, she went up big time in my book. If you ever run into her, sing her praises. Pay for her meal. Thank her for keeping the dream going baby. She knows whats up with boom tho.
Elaine, if you saw the title of this article, just know that you are definitely NOT going down.
The end.
The Offseason Part 4
August/23/2007 12:38 PM Filed in: Random
My off season continues to roll on as August passes and September comes in. I arrived in Sacramento 3 weeks ago direct from my NBA Fair extravaganza in North Dakota. Since getting up here, things have really slowed down for me. It seems like everything I do now has a meaning to it. The season is right around the corner, and what I do now will have a direct correlation with the season. I think they call this focus in some places. If so, this is the most focused I've ever been, but that doesn't mean that I can't have different kinds of excitement along the way.
My next door neighbor is Harold Pressley. You may remember him from Villanova back in the days or from the Sacramento Kings in the 90s. He has 3 kids, one of which looks exactly like Kevin Martin. I mean not like a look a like, but the kid looks like a kid would look if Kevin Martin reproduced asexually.
Anyways, these kids provide about 40% of my entertainment throughout the week. Most days, between 3 and 5pm, these kids will walk over and ask me to play baseball with them. I always oblige. They have home plate in the middle of the street, while first, second, and third are all located on Harold's wrap around driveway. Since the kids are different ages, they get different types of pitches. The 7 yr old girl gets underhand, the middle son who's 10 gets slow overhand, while 13 year old Kevin Martin gets fastballs baby. A homerun is anything over the house into the back yard.
Every day we play this game. Some days I'm just about to take a solid nap after a hard workout, but then these kids come over. They might as well be asking my mom "Can Rod come out and play?". There's even a couple other kids in the neighborhood who get in on the act. And those kids have a 20 year old sister who I just cant get them to introduce me to. Maybe it's the wrong idea to ask my 7 year old baseball teammate to hook me up with his sister. To be honest, I don't even know what she looks like, I just know shes 20 and I'm so bored that I have become an all-star on Matheny Way.
After a few days of baseball, my agent gave me a call. I stepped outside for like 45 seconds to swing my driver. When I stepped back in, I saw the missed call. I check the message on the phone.
"Rod, this is Bill. I'm going to sleep. I just wanted to let you know that we have an Invite to camp. I'm going to sleep though, call me in the morning."
I called him back but it went right to voicemail. I don't think he realized that it was like 7pm west coast time and that he didn't mention the team. Yes, I was hyped, but I had 4 hours to go before I even would begin to feel tired enough to sleep. My mind wandered all over the place. Chicago? Phoenix? Golden State? I had no idea.
First thing the next day, I called him up. "You're going to camp with New Jersey," he said.
New Jersey. Sweet. Immediately I had a pretty good list of what the situation is in Jersey:
1. I might have more connection to this team than any other team in the league. My connections include:
a. I was roommates with Jameel Pugh last year who supposedly was the first to ever do a through the legs dunk off two feet, and from whom Vince Carter then took it and made it even better.
b. My brother tells me that he is friends with Richard Jefferson. I guess Rich (Can I call you Rich, Rich?) frequents the L.A. Fitness that little Benson works at.
c. Last year Hassan Adams was on the team. Hassan and I use to party at the U of A.
d. Actually the biggest connection of all... I have a relative on the team. A cousin. Second cousins I believe, but I don't exactly have a family tree handy to figure it out. I know this may seem a bit shocking, but it's true. I am related to Jason Kidd. It has never been publicized for a variety of reasons, but If I was to get signed by some chance, it would be tight to play with someone of the same blood line. The problem with this is that I'm pretty sure he has no idea of our relation. It will be truly funny how this all comes about. Do I walk up to him and be like "Yo, oh sweet you're at camp too? That's tight man. By the way, you're my cousin. So, what's for lunch?"
What could be even more funny is if he decides to ask me how we are related. I don't have a good answer for that. I know my grandfathers last name is Kidd. After that, I didn't really ask my mother about the details. We both felt that it was important, especially since I went to Cal also, that I had my own identity and to not allow the media to publish this fact when I signed my letter of intent.
2. Could I be Mikki Moore part DOS!? Who knows? I do know that if I grew my hair out a little bit and got some tattoos, there would a lot of confused people in the New Jersey area.
3. Roster space? I looked online and pretty much saw that 16 of the 13 guys on the current roster are posts.
4. East Coast? Could be interesting. Rod Benson on the east would produce a whole different level of fun. I just don't know if I could hail a cab.
With a camp invite under my belt, my focus and work ethic have reached a new level. There is one big knock on Rod Benson: he's just too skinny. This off season I decided to do something about that. Granted, it's only been 2.5 weeks since I started my weight training, but I've already put on 6 lbs. of muscle. I was 219, now I'm 225. By the time camp starts in October, I could be up around 235.
How am I doing it? Well, it starts off with a personal trainer who works me to death. I realized that serious weight lifting requires killing yourself, or coming close, then living through it somehow and getting stronger as a result. If you've ever seen Dragon Ball Z, you know that Saiyan's are the same way. I'm just trying to become a super saiyan.
Besides just lifting, I make these shakes and have one after every meal. I went to the Max Muscle store and asked the guy what I should take. He pointed to this big ass tub of nonsense. I said to him "Umm do you have something smaller? I'm only here for a month and a half"
He said "If you're doing it right, this thing well be gone in 3 weeks."
My tub 'o protein for weight, creatine for recovery, and glucosamine for my joints.
Before I left the store, I asked him if I should take it with milk. He replied "Not unless you wanna fart all day long."
So after 2.5 weeks of water based shakes, I would say that he has been right about damn near everything we discussed. I can honestly say that this coddamn tub has about 3 shakes worth of stuff left. I can't believe how much I've consumed. One thing he was wrong about was the amount of gas these things give you. Mann sometimes I lie in bed and think "Is an NBA contract really worth having to smell your own gas all day?"
I mean, you know how you can always stand your own gas, no matter what? You know, sometimes you relish that smell. You want more of that smell. My gas right now is so terrible, that I gag sometimes. Even when it's just me in the house, I'll go outside on the street when I have to fart, then I'll run around a little bit so it doesn't linger with me, then I'll come back in the house, just so I don't have to smell it.
At the end of the day, it will all be worth it. The boring afternoons and stinky nights. The near death experiences that have consumed my weight training days. When I get to camp and I'm bigger, stronger, and faster than I was before, hopefully there will be no more questions. It will come down to 3 things in my mind:
Do he have the skill?
I think so
Do he have the desire?
Hell yes I do (Napoleon Dynamite)
Do he have the size and athleticism?
Always been athletic. Size? Improving every day baby! If they dont care about me stinking up practice, then we're good!
Well this will probably best my last off season post. Hopefully next time I write about hoops I'll be a 235lb monster! For now, I gotta go, the Pressley kids are knocking on the door.
My next door neighbor is Harold Pressley. You may remember him from Villanova back in the days or from the Sacramento Kings in the 90s. He has 3 kids, one of which looks exactly like Kevin Martin. I mean not like a look a like, but the kid looks like a kid would look if Kevin Martin reproduced asexually.
Anyways, these kids provide about 40% of my entertainment throughout the week. Most days, between 3 and 5pm, these kids will walk over and ask me to play baseball with them. I always oblige. They have home plate in the middle of the street, while first, second, and third are all located on Harold's wrap around driveway. Since the kids are different ages, they get different types of pitches. The 7 yr old girl gets underhand, the middle son who's 10 gets slow overhand, while 13 year old Kevin Martin gets fastballs baby. A homerun is anything over the house into the back yard.
Every day we play this game. Some days I'm just about to take a solid nap after a hard workout, but then these kids come over. They might as well be asking my mom "Can Rod come out and play?". There's even a couple other kids in the neighborhood who get in on the act. And those kids have a 20 year old sister who I just cant get them to introduce me to. Maybe it's the wrong idea to ask my 7 year old baseball teammate to hook me up with his sister. To be honest, I don't even know what she looks like, I just know shes 20 and I'm so bored that I have become an all-star on Matheny Way.
After a few days of baseball, my agent gave me a call. I stepped outside for like 45 seconds to swing my driver. When I stepped back in, I saw the missed call. I check the message on the phone.
"Rod, this is Bill. I'm going to sleep. I just wanted to let you know that we have an Invite to camp. I'm going to sleep though, call me in the morning."
I called him back but it went right to voicemail. I don't think he realized that it was like 7pm west coast time and that he didn't mention the team. Yes, I was hyped, but I had 4 hours to go before I even would begin to feel tired enough to sleep. My mind wandered all over the place. Chicago? Phoenix? Golden State? I had no idea.
First thing the next day, I called him up. "You're going to camp with New Jersey," he said.
New Jersey. Sweet. Immediately I had a pretty good list of what the situation is in Jersey:
1. I might have more connection to this team than any other team in the league. My connections include:
a. I was roommates with Jameel Pugh last year who supposedly was the first to ever do a through the legs dunk off two feet, and from whom Vince Carter then took it and made it even better.
b. My brother tells me that he is friends with Richard Jefferson. I guess Rich (Can I call you Rich, Rich?) frequents the L.A. Fitness that little Benson works at.
c. Last year Hassan Adams was on the team. Hassan and I use to party at the U of A.
d. Actually the biggest connection of all... I have a relative on the team. A cousin. Second cousins I believe, but I don't exactly have a family tree handy to figure it out. I know this may seem a bit shocking, but it's true. I am related to Jason Kidd. It has never been publicized for a variety of reasons, but If I was to get signed by some chance, it would be tight to play with someone of the same blood line. The problem with this is that I'm pretty sure he has no idea of our relation. It will be truly funny how this all comes about. Do I walk up to him and be like "Yo, oh sweet you're at camp too? That's tight man. By the way, you're my cousin. So, what's for lunch?"
What could be even more funny is if he decides to ask me how we are related. I don't have a good answer for that. I know my grandfathers last name is Kidd. After that, I didn't really ask my mother about the details. We both felt that it was important, especially since I went to Cal also, that I had my own identity and to not allow the media to publish this fact when I signed my letter of intent.
2. Could I be Mikki Moore part DOS!? Who knows? I do know that if I grew my hair out a little bit and got some tattoos, there would a lot of confused people in the New Jersey area.
3. Roster space? I looked online and pretty much saw that 16 of the 13 guys on the current roster are posts.
4. East Coast? Could be interesting. Rod Benson on the east would produce a whole different level of fun. I just don't know if I could hail a cab.
With a camp invite under my belt, my focus and work ethic have reached a new level. There is one big knock on Rod Benson: he's just too skinny. This off season I decided to do something about that. Granted, it's only been 2.5 weeks since I started my weight training, but I've already put on 6 lbs. of muscle. I was 219, now I'm 225. By the time camp starts in October, I could be up around 235.
How am I doing it? Well, it starts off with a personal trainer who works me to death. I realized that serious weight lifting requires killing yourself, or coming close, then living through it somehow and getting stronger as a result. If you've ever seen Dragon Ball Z, you know that Saiyan's are the same way. I'm just trying to become a super saiyan.
Besides just lifting, I make these shakes and have one after every meal. I went to the Max Muscle store and asked the guy what I should take. He pointed to this big ass tub of nonsense. I said to him "Umm do you have something smaller? I'm only here for a month and a half"
He said "If you're doing it right, this thing well be gone in 3 weeks."
My tub 'o protein for weight, creatine for recovery, and glucosamine for my joints.
Before I left the store, I asked him if I should take it with milk. He replied "Not unless you wanna fart all day long."
So after 2.5 weeks of water based shakes, I would say that he has been right about damn near everything we discussed. I can honestly say that this coddamn tub has about 3 shakes worth of stuff left. I can't believe how much I've consumed. One thing he was wrong about was the amount of gas these things give you. Mann sometimes I lie in bed and think "Is an NBA contract really worth having to smell your own gas all day?"
I mean, you know how you can always stand your own gas, no matter what? You know, sometimes you relish that smell. You want more of that smell. My gas right now is so terrible, that I gag sometimes. Even when it's just me in the house, I'll go outside on the street when I have to fart, then I'll run around a little bit so it doesn't linger with me, then I'll come back in the house, just so I don't have to smell it.
At the end of the day, it will all be worth it. The boring afternoons and stinky nights. The near death experiences that have consumed my weight training days. When I get to camp and I'm bigger, stronger, and faster than I was before, hopefully there will be no more questions. It will come down to 3 things in my mind:
Do he have the skill?
I think so
Do he have the desire?
Hell yes I do (Napoleon Dynamite)
Do he have the size and athleticism?
Always been athletic. Size? Improving every day baby! If they dont care about me stinking up practice, then we're good!
Well this will probably best my last off season post. Hopefully next time I write about hoops I'll be a 235lb monster! For now, I gotta go, the Pressley kids are knocking on the door.
Public Transportation/Use Your Phone
August/22/2007 12:32 PM Filed in: Random
As an avid Amtrak and BART (bay area subway type thing) rider, I am witness to many ridiculous things. Remember the man who followed me from Sacramento to Richmond, then followed onto the BART, then got off at Glen Park station just like me, only to offer me oral sex when we got there? Yea, that pretty much justifies me as an expert in Trains, BART, and ridiculousness.
Seems like every time I ride Amtrak something ridiculous happens. This last weekend, I was on my wasy from Sacramento to Richmond, like always. I had my Ipod on my ears, blasting my new favorite song. It's called "Feel The Rain on Your Skin" by Natasha Beddingfield. I know it's old, but so it "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton and that's hot too. Maybe it's just because it's on The Hills, which is now my 7th favorite show. I digress.
I had my music blasting real loud on my ears, and I was actually singing along. You know, kind of mumbling something like "staring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window, let the sun da da da da da da da da, reaching for something in the distance..." when I got that bathroom urge. It wasn't like "mann I need the bathroom right now" but it was still a "well, if I don't do this now, I could be in a world of hurt later".
I got out of my seat, music still blaring, and walked down the aisle, then down the stairs to the bottom level of the train where the bathroom was located. I remember vividly the part of the song I was on when I opened the bathroom door: "...release your inhibitions..."
I swung open the door and there was a woman frantically trying to cover herself up. I couldn't hear a word she was saying, if any, because now the song was on the chorus. I do remember her look though. It was so confused. I could tell her thoughts went from "Oh my word I've been exposed" to "Oh lordy I didn't lock the door" to "What the? This guy is like 8 feet tall!". It was when I realized that she got to this third stage of her shock process, that I slammed the door back shut. I guess we were both so in shock that I had been standing there for almost 3 seconds. 3 seconds is an eternity when you are faced with a random, tall black man, who can smell your poo and see it too.
After I slammed the door shut, I began to laugh. I realized that the Natasha Beddingfield song was still on, which was awesome. There are only a couple of funnier songs for a situation like that. There's "Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow, down to my home, I will not go.." I dont know what it's called, but I remember it from Kindergarten. There's also "Mmm Bop" by Hanson and possibly, well it's not a song, but, if for some reason, somebody was just yelling out "Duck, Duck, Duck..." and then when I opened the door, "Goose!" that would be hilarious.
Anyways, I then realized that the bathroom was in the middle of the row of seats. This meant that at least 7 other people had seen our interaction. Sweet. I laughed harder. I mean she wasn't that young, like in her 20's, but she wasn't old enough where she wouldn't care. She was just the right age and attractiveness to feel truly embarrassed. I returned to my seat and thought about what had gone down. I processed the fact that I didn't even look at her, but somehow I noticed so much. She then walked up the stairs. She saw me, turned around and went back down the stairs. I knew then that she took an alternate route to avoid walking past me. I understood.
My Public Transportation is not limited to Amtrak. The BART is also a big part of it. It also ties into the second half of this entry, Use Your Phone. I was riding the BART to San Francisco one night, and when a group of like 15 Irish girls got on heading the same direction. My first reaction was to grab my phone and scroll through my address book for no reason. I had no intention of calling anyone, but it just felt the right thing to do -- to seem like I was too busy to talk to them. I then realized that the phone is a societal weapon. When used correctly, the cell phone can say more than direct words ever could.
For example, that night, on the BART, I could have used my phone is a variety of ways. Yea, I did the standard address book scroll, but I could have done more. I could have done the fake text message. The fake text message basically consists of me pretending to send a text message, then look around kind of like I'm a big deal. Then I look at my phone as if it has just vibrated. A quick response to my text? Of course. I then respond to the fake response. I repeat this process over and over until I finally give a kind of exhausted sigh as if to say "Why am I so busy, cool, and important?"
I could have even taken it a step farther. I could have even made a fake phone call. This way the girls could hear every word I say, they might even interject, giggle, or rip my clothes off right there on the spot. A fake phone call consists of me, giving the fake scroll through the address book. Then I pretend to let the phone ring 3 times on the other end. Then, I create a fake conversation out of nowhere, and I talk juuuusssttt loud enough for the girls around me to hear it. The conversation has to make me seem awesome enough for them to be interested in me. I might say things that make no sense to anyone who knows the truth, but sounds cool to women. Like "Yea, that NBA intersquad backtrack thing we did last year with the Lakers was fun, you think we will do it again this year? Yea, we will need to invite some women to come this time. Can't let Shaq get all of them!" See, if you know basketball, you know that the intersquad backtrack thing means nothing, you know that Rod Benson has nothing to do with the Lakers, and that Shaq is married and is in Miami. If you are a random Irish girl you might just be very impressed.
A guy with no phone can't do that without the help of live friends there. I heard a Berkeley freshman attempt this (poorly) the other day. Since he wasn't smooth enough to make up a conversation on his phone, he did the next best thing he could think of to try to impress the girls at the table next to him at Chipotle. He struck up a very loud conversation with one of his boys. I was sitting at the next table so I could easily hear him say these exact words: "I would have called you but I have no phone. So I was texting this girl when some dude jumped me, so I had to beat his ass. Now I have no phone."
I looked over at Theo Robertson who was eating with me, and I asked him "True of False?". Theo quickly said "That was all false.". Exactly. A fake story, so fake, that I dont think that the girls bought it. If he really hadnt lost his phone, I would have advised him to use the fake text message so that nobody would have had to hear him speak. If it was a nice phone, he could have even done the "Hey see how expensive my phone looks?" technique, but nope. My phone was my weapon and his mouth was his defeat.
Seems like every time I ride Amtrak something ridiculous happens. This last weekend, I was on my wasy from Sacramento to Richmond, like always. I had my Ipod on my ears, blasting my new favorite song. It's called "Feel The Rain on Your Skin" by Natasha Beddingfield. I know it's old, but so it "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton and that's hot too. Maybe it's just because it's on The Hills, which is now my 7th favorite show. I digress.
I had my music blasting real loud on my ears, and I was actually singing along. You know, kind of mumbling something like "staring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window, let the sun da da da da da da da da, reaching for something in the distance..." when I got that bathroom urge. It wasn't like "mann I need the bathroom right now" but it was still a "well, if I don't do this now, I could be in a world of hurt later".
I got out of my seat, music still blaring, and walked down the aisle, then down the stairs to the bottom level of the train where the bathroom was located. I remember vividly the part of the song I was on when I opened the bathroom door: "...release your inhibitions..."
I swung open the door and there was a woman frantically trying to cover herself up. I couldn't hear a word she was saying, if any, because now the song was on the chorus. I do remember her look though. It was so confused. I could tell her thoughts went from "Oh my word I've been exposed" to "Oh lordy I didn't lock the door" to "What the? This guy is like 8 feet tall!". It was when I realized that she got to this third stage of her shock process, that I slammed the door back shut. I guess we were both so in shock that I had been standing there for almost 3 seconds. 3 seconds is an eternity when you are faced with a random, tall black man, who can smell your poo and see it too.
After I slammed the door shut, I began to laugh. I realized that the Natasha Beddingfield song was still on, which was awesome. There are only a couple of funnier songs for a situation like that. There's "Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow, down to my home, I will not go.." I dont know what it's called, but I remember it from Kindergarten. There's also "Mmm Bop" by Hanson and possibly, well it's not a song, but, if for some reason, somebody was just yelling out "Duck, Duck, Duck..." and then when I opened the door, "Goose!" that would be hilarious.
Anyways, I then realized that the bathroom was in the middle of the row of seats. This meant that at least 7 other people had seen our interaction. Sweet. I laughed harder. I mean she wasn't that young, like in her 20's, but she wasn't old enough where she wouldn't care. She was just the right age and attractiveness to feel truly embarrassed. I returned to my seat and thought about what had gone down. I processed the fact that I didn't even look at her, but somehow I noticed so much. She then walked up the stairs. She saw me, turned around and went back down the stairs. I knew then that she took an alternate route to avoid walking past me. I understood.
My Public Transportation is not limited to Amtrak. The BART is also a big part of it. It also ties into the second half of this entry, Use Your Phone. I was riding the BART to San Francisco one night, and when a group of like 15 Irish girls got on heading the same direction. My first reaction was to grab my phone and scroll through my address book for no reason. I had no intention of calling anyone, but it just felt the right thing to do -- to seem like I was too busy to talk to them. I then realized that the phone is a societal weapon. When used correctly, the cell phone can say more than direct words ever could.
For example, that night, on the BART, I could have used my phone is a variety of ways. Yea, I did the standard address book scroll, but I could have done more. I could have done the fake text message. The fake text message basically consists of me pretending to send a text message, then look around kind of like I'm a big deal. Then I look at my phone as if it has just vibrated. A quick response to my text? Of course. I then respond to the fake response. I repeat this process over and over until I finally give a kind of exhausted sigh as if to say "Why am I so busy, cool, and important?"
I could have even taken it a step farther. I could have even made a fake phone call. This way the girls could hear every word I say, they might even interject, giggle, or rip my clothes off right there on the spot. A fake phone call consists of me, giving the fake scroll through the address book. Then I pretend to let the phone ring 3 times on the other end. Then, I create a fake conversation out of nowhere, and I talk juuuusssttt loud enough for the girls around me to hear it. The conversation has to make me seem awesome enough for them to be interested in me. I might say things that make no sense to anyone who knows the truth, but sounds cool to women. Like "Yea, that NBA intersquad backtrack thing we did last year with the Lakers was fun, you think we will do it again this year? Yea, we will need to invite some women to come this time. Can't let Shaq get all of them!" See, if you know basketball, you know that the intersquad backtrack thing means nothing, you know that Rod Benson has nothing to do with the Lakers, and that Shaq is married and is in Miami. If you are a random Irish girl you might just be very impressed.
A guy with no phone can't do that without the help of live friends there. I heard a Berkeley freshman attempt this (poorly) the other day. Since he wasn't smooth enough to make up a conversation on his phone, he did the next best thing he could think of to try to impress the girls at the table next to him at Chipotle. He struck up a very loud conversation with one of his boys. I was sitting at the next table so I could easily hear him say these exact words: "I would have called you but I have no phone. So I was texting this girl when some dude jumped me, so I had to beat his ass. Now I have no phone."
I looked over at Theo Robertson who was eating with me, and I asked him "True of False?". Theo quickly said "That was all false.". Exactly. A fake story, so fake, that I dont think that the girls bought it. If he really hadnt lost his phone, I would have advised him to use the fake text message so that nobody would have had to hear him speak. If it was a nice phone, he could have even done the "Hey see how expensive my phone looks?" technique, but nope. My phone was my weapon and his mouth was his defeat.
The Offseason Part 3
August/02/2007 12:27 PM Filed in: Dakota
I'm currently awaiting a phone call from my agent alerting me of who I will go to training camp with (provided that anybody out there wants me). While in wait mode, I got a phone call from the media relations guy (Mike, if that's not your title, my bad) from the NBDL Dakota Wizards, Mike. Mike informed my that the NBA would contact me soon about an appearance they hoped I would do. A few days later I was on the phone with an NBA representative who informed me that the NBA has something called the NBA Fair. The NBA Fair is an NBA attraction that travels to state fairs all over the country. Specifically, the NBA Fair travels to fairs that are outside of traditional NBA Markets.
The NBA agreed to pay me to go to the NBA Fair at North Dakota's state fair in Minot, ND, to sign autographs and play games with the kids. I would be obligated to appear for an hour each day for two days. I figured it would be cool, plus there was money involved, duh.
When I stepped off the plane in North Dakota, there was a local sports reporter there who was ready to interview me. You can watch that here: http://www.kxma.com/video.asp?ArticleId=147564&VideoId=11908
I hadnt been back in Dakota for more than a couple of hours, when my old assistant coach told me to first meet him at some hotel bar where it was ladies night. When I got there, I instantly remembered one thing I loved about North Dakota. Ladies night meant that drinks were $1.30. One dollar and thirty cents? For anything? Gotta love that cost of living.
We eventually left the hotel bar and went to another bar that I had never been to before. I remember thinking that if I had to come back and play for the Wizards again, that these new bars could be my part of my solid rotation. It was right then that a woman gave this guy next to me the eye. It wasn't the usual eye, it was more of a dirty dancing type thing that he fully comprehended, while I was still left wondering. Next thing I know, these two go at it. It was probably the most hilarious dancing scene I have ever seen. Why? First of all, neither of them could dance...at all. Picture Napoleon Dynamite rocking out, alone, in his room, to his D-Kwon's Dance Grooves tape. It was like this guy and this girl at the bar figured out how to be equally, yet choreographically, ridiculous. I think of Sean Williams Scott in American Wedding. I think of Ben Stiller in Starsky and Hutch. Heck, I even think of the Ben Stiller vs Owen Wilson in Zoolander. Combine all of that in your mind and it becomes the dance-a-palooza that I saw these two strangers engage in that night. Just to clarify, this was not a dance bar by any means.
I decided that I needed to get a picture of the dance-a-thon that was taking place before my eyes. I was wondering how to pull it off without disrupting the magic that had now become a series of lap dances on the bar stool in front of me. See, even though they were in the heat of the dance, more people were still staring at me, the 6' 10" black guy who was there outside of basketball season and not the riverdance bandits. I made my mind up to just go for it. I snapped this photo off real quick:
As it turns out, right after the flash of my camera phone went off, she unwrapped her legs from around him, and he backed up off her, and it was done, just like I feared. The photo still captures everything I wanted it to. Besides the fact that her legs are propped up like a wheelbarrow, notice his men's softball league jersey, and her jacket that he, in the madness called Dance, has tied around his forehead like a bandana. Classic. I love all of it.
The next day, Mike and I drove out to Minot which is about an hour and a half away. After checking into our hotel, we headed down to the state fair. As we pulled up to the NBA Fair booth, I was getting kind of hyped. Last week Kris Humphries was here -- a real NBA player. This week? NBDL Champion of the World, and Memhpis Grizzlies (summer league of course) player, Rod Benson.
The booth was pretty big. I wouldn't even call it a booth, really. It had a full NBA sized half court set up on sport court. There were 3 baskets: a 10 foot rim, a 9 footer to the right of the main one, and an 8 footer on the left. To the right of the court was a tent set up with NBA Live 07 on ps3, among other cool NBA stuff that kids would periodically check out.
I sat down on one of the chairs under the pop-up tarp that had all the prizes for participants in the booth. I hadn't been sitting down for more than 5 minutes when I was approached by about 5-7 different people who were on a scavenger hunt at the fair. They had their lists, which I could easily read when they approached me. Number 2 on the list was "Get the autograph of an NBA player". Of course they proceeded to ask me to sign the sheet because I was the NBA player. I wanted to say "Umm, I am an NBDL World Champion and a Memphis Summer League starter, but alas, I am no NBA player". I decided that if I didn't sign the papers, nobody else really could in the whole state. Since I was the closest they were gonna get, I shut my mouth and signed the papers, but it still felt like I was forging my own signature or something.
I headed to the tent in the back where some of the emcees for the event were resting and drinking water, waiting for their turn to get on the mic. We all introduced ourselves. The guy who would be on the court with me during my hour was named Ryan. Ryan informed me that he had read my blog beforehand and since I was "cool", he would spice up our Q and A session a little bit and have some fun with it. I had no objections. I mean, my blog preceded me, gotta live up to the hype!
So, my hour of appearance time came and went. It didn't matter to me. I was having too much fun. I got on the mic and was cracking jokes, playing shooting competitions with the kids, and answering off the wall questions. Ryan and I even spent 20 minutes, aloud, in front of the whole booth, recounting our favorite scenes from the movie "Love Actually". 3 hours later I was still going strong, having fun, keeping the kids hyped up as best I could. I think in a way, I got more respect from the other guys for just having fun and kicking it with them, regardless of time, than anything else.
I was dragged away from the booth by Mike, who reminded me that it was about that time for the Big and Rich concert. Yep, I said it, the Big and Rich concert featuring Cowboy Troy. Big and Rich, for those who don't know, are a big time country music act. Mike informed me that the song I had come to love entitled "I Play Chicken with the Train", was performed by Cowboy Troy himself. Never heard of it? I guess you haven't lived in North Dakota. Let me fill you in on some of the best lyrics of all time:
The NBA agreed to pay me to go to the NBA Fair at North Dakota's state fair in Minot, ND, to sign autographs and play games with the kids. I would be obligated to appear for an hour each day for two days. I figured it would be cool, plus there was money involved, duh.
When I stepped off the plane in North Dakota, there was a local sports reporter there who was ready to interview me. You can watch that here: http://www.kxma.com/video.asp?ArticleId=147564&VideoId=11908
I hadnt been back in Dakota for more than a couple of hours, when my old assistant coach told me to first meet him at some hotel bar where it was ladies night. When I got there, I instantly remembered one thing I loved about North Dakota. Ladies night meant that drinks were $1.30. One dollar and thirty cents? For anything? Gotta love that cost of living.
We eventually left the hotel bar and went to another bar that I had never been to before. I remember thinking that if I had to come back and play for the Wizards again, that these new bars could be my part of my solid rotation. It was right then that a woman gave this guy next to me the eye. It wasn't the usual eye, it was more of a dirty dancing type thing that he fully comprehended, while I was still left wondering. Next thing I know, these two go at it. It was probably the most hilarious dancing scene I have ever seen. Why? First of all, neither of them could dance...at all. Picture Napoleon Dynamite rocking out, alone, in his room, to his D-Kwon's Dance Grooves tape. It was like this guy and this girl at the bar figured out how to be equally, yet choreographically, ridiculous. I think of Sean Williams Scott in American Wedding. I think of Ben Stiller in Starsky and Hutch. Heck, I even think of the Ben Stiller vs Owen Wilson in Zoolander. Combine all of that in your mind and it becomes the dance-a-palooza that I saw these two strangers engage in that night. Just to clarify, this was not a dance bar by any means.
I decided that I needed to get a picture of the dance-a-thon that was taking place before my eyes. I was wondering how to pull it off without disrupting the magic that had now become a series of lap dances on the bar stool in front of me. See, even though they were in the heat of the dance, more people were still staring at me, the 6' 10" black guy who was there outside of basketball season and not the riverdance bandits. I made my mind up to just go for it. I snapped this photo off real quick:
As it turns out, right after the flash of my camera phone went off, she unwrapped her legs from around him, and he backed up off her, and it was done, just like I feared. The photo still captures everything I wanted it to. Besides the fact that her legs are propped up like a wheelbarrow, notice his men's softball league jersey, and her jacket that he, in the madness called Dance, has tied around his forehead like a bandana. Classic. I love all of it.
The next day, Mike and I drove out to Minot which is about an hour and a half away. After checking into our hotel, we headed down to the state fair. As we pulled up to the NBA Fair booth, I was getting kind of hyped. Last week Kris Humphries was here -- a real NBA player. This week? NBDL Champion of the World, and Memhpis Grizzlies (summer league of course) player, Rod Benson.
The booth was pretty big. I wouldn't even call it a booth, really. It had a full NBA sized half court set up on sport court. There were 3 baskets: a 10 foot rim, a 9 footer to the right of the main one, and an 8 footer on the left. To the right of the court was a tent set up with NBA Live 07 on ps3, among other cool NBA stuff that kids would periodically check out.
I sat down on one of the chairs under the pop-up tarp that had all the prizes for participants in the booth. I hadn't been sitting down for more than 5 minutes when I was approached by about 5-7 different people who were on a scavenger hunt at the fair. They had their lists, which I could easily read when they approached me. Number 2 on the list was "Get the autograph of an NBA player". Of course they proceeded to ask me to sign the sheet because I was the NBA player. I wanted to say "Umm, I am an NBDL World Champion and a Memphis Summer League starter, but alas, I am no NBA player". I decided that if I didn't sign the papers, nobody else really could in the whole state. Since I was the closest they were gonna get, I shut my mouth and signed the papers, but it still felt like I was forging my own signature or something.
I headed to the tent in the back where some of the emcees for the event were resting and drinking water, waiting for their turn to get on the mic. We all introduced ourselves. The guy who would be on the court with me during my hour was named Ryan. Ryan informed me that he had read my blog beforehand and since I was "cool", he would spice up our Q and A session a little bit and have some fun with it. I had no objections. I mean, my blog preceded me, gotta live up to the hype!
So, my hour of appearance time came and went. It didn't matter to me. I was having too much fun. I got on the mic and was cracking jokes, playing shooting competitions with the kids, and answering off the wall questions. Ryan and I even spent 20 minutes, aloud, in front of the whole booth, recounting our favorite scenes from the movie "Love Actually". 3 hours later I was still going strong, having fun, keeping the kids hyped up as best I could. I think in a way, I got more respect from the other guys for just having fun and kicking it with them, regardless of time, than anything else.
I was dragged away from the booth by Mike, who reminded me that it was about that time for the Big and Rich concert. Yep, I said it, the Big and Rich concert featuring Cowboy Troy. Big and Rich, for those who don't know, are a big time country music act. Mike informed me that the song I had come to love entitled "I Play Chicken with the Train", was performed by Cowboy Troy himself. Never heard of it? I guess you haven't lived in North Dakota. Let me fill you in on some of the best lyrics of all time:
I play chicken with the train play chicken with the train train, uh huh huh uh huh huh,
You know that I play chicken with the train play chicken with the train train uh huh huh uh huh huh yea,
Who? The big black neck commin' through to you boy you done fell and bumped you head uh huh,
That's what they said,
People say it's impossible, not probable, too radical,
But I already been on the CMA's,
Hell Tim McGraw said he liked the change,
That he likes the way my Hick-hop sounds and the way the crowd screams when I stomp the ground,
Now, big and black, clickty clack and I make the train jump the track like that
I love this song, albeit that it is country music, because there are times when I, being big and black, go clickity clack, and make train jump off the track. You don't like it? Well then boy you done fell and bumped yo head!
Mike and I used our free tickets (they cost $60 normally, for country? really?) and heard Cowboy Troy's legendary track as we walked through the front doors. I've never been to a country concert before, so it was a hell of a scene. For one, everybody had on the "bundle" as I call it. The bundle looks something like this:
Cowboy hat, tucked in button down shirt, usually flannel, and boots. When I saw Cowboy Troy on stage, I knew he was still true to his black man roots, because his bundle was a little bit baggier than the rest. I bet his was designed by Sean John or Roca Wear. Mike kept telling people that Troy was my brother. Some people actually believed it. How could you really believe that? Do you see what this guy is wearing? Baggy or not, I am definitely bundle-less.
cowboy hats at cowboy troy
Big and Rich took the stage next. I must say that it was pretty electric, even though I'm not a country fan. The people seemed to love it. Country is the rap of the midwest, I determined. Ryan from the NBA Fair caught up with us, and we headed over to beer table at the far end of the concert. We pretty much enjoyed the rest of the concert from the beer tables.
the view from the beer area was a little farther
We had been at the beer area for over an hour when Big and Rich played the song I heard more than any other song while I was in North Dakota last season. The song is called "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy". I have been known to sing my own, remixed, version of the song in which I say "Save a life, ride Rod Benson." I don't even think that makes any sense, but I'm no cowboy, therefore horses are irrelevant to me. I don't think I'd ever heard 10,000 people sing a country song together at one time, until that very moment when John RIch (I don't know how I know his first name) got up on stage and began his PETA friendly song.
I left Minot and the NBA Fair on Sunday and headed back to sacramento. I was forced to check the Taylor Made Driver a golf pro sold me for $50. Luckily it didn't break and it actually made it out here. I hope the NBA calls me with some other app
I'm currently in Sacramento right now, working out on a daily basis at Basketball Town. This past week I have played against such competition as Matt Barnes, Ricky Davis, Justin WIlliams, Quincy Douby, Bobby Jackson, and Mike WIlks. If there's any place to get better it's here. If there's any time to get better (cliche, so what) it's now. Hopefully my next "The Offseason" post will include my invitation to training camp.