TMRB Feed

New Gear Store Up Now!

Rod Benson — 2010-06-01T12:23:59-07:00

Check out the store on the Boom Tho Movement Fan Page on Facebook, or click here to be redirected!

Anything is Possible!!!

Rod Benson — 2010-03-17T08:09:23-07:00

Here’s the newest video from the Boom Tho Mixtape! It combines “Anything is Possible!” with “Internet Dominance!” Enjoy.

2009: The Lost Photos

Rod Benson — 2010-01-21T08:48:14-08:00

Vote Boom Tho to the 2010 D-League All Stars

Rod Benson — 2010-01-11T19:34:49-08:00

Click here to cast your votes for the All Star game in Dallas. You can vote as many times as you want (once per day) so even if you have already, go back and do it again. Happy Voting!

New Reno Bighorns TV Ad

Rod Benson — 2010-01-11T19:33:41-08:00

I dont like this one as much, but it’s still a TV ad featuring our team. Check it out...

The Next Karate Kid (Me and Jackie Chan)

Rod Benson — 2010-01-01T08:33:41-08:00

I took this picture in Beijing w mr Chan. Talk about a baller, son! Mad Boom Tho.

See A Game On ME!

Rod Benson — 2010-01-01T08:31:15-08:00

Just go to RenoBighorns.com, check out our schedule, find a game you’d like to attend, then go to the contact me page and tell me which one you’d like to see. Ill make it happen!

The Perfect Ad

Rod Benson — 2009-12-19T22:31:00-08:00

Truer words have never been said by a more appropriate ex-sponsor. Yes, I took this pic in the DFW airport.

Who's That Gettin Buckets, Boards, and Blocks? R-O-D B-E-N Son!

Rod Benson — 2009-12-20T22:06:00-08:00

Showin Love: A JE Skeets Joint

Rod Benson — 2009-12-17T22:06:10-08:00

Reno Bighorns TV Ad

Rod Benson — 2009-11-27T11:01:08-08:00

Mr Boom Tho is Coming...

Rod Benson — 2009-10-26T11:22:46-07:00

The Message 2

Rod Benson — 2009-09-18T17:32:19-07:00

As I have mentioned in my previous messages, what you choose to do in your life, and who you choose to be, is a choice that belongs to you, and only you. It is up to you to recognize and appreciate the magnificence and beauty that surrounds you. It is up to you to accept that God has created you with a purpose in mind, to be an eternal and unlimited extension of its self. It is your choice to be grateful for all the blessings that are in your life and to be thankful for the love and opportunities that are all around you. Now I ask you, are you grateful for your life? Do you recognize and appreciate the blessings that are so abundant in your world? Have you accepted that you are a unique and beautiful creation of the lord, with unlimited potential? If you were honest and answered no to any of these questions, understand that you are certainly not alone. The question then becomes, how can I begin to fully accept myself and appreciate my life?

The beauty of life is that you get out of it what you put into it. If you are always negative, angry, frustrated, and bitter, those very things will continuously manifest themselves in your life. If you are judgmental of others and insecure within yourself, you will surely be surrounded by people who have similar traits and you will continue to be miserable. However, if you can learn to recognize and appreciate all the beauty and wonderment that surrounds you, you will embark on an amazing journey that will last a lifetime. You will begin to understand just how lucky you are, to have your health, your family, your friends, your job, your car, and everything else that so many people around the world can only dream of having. Learning how to appreciate all the things in your life, which you have taken for granted for so long, will allow you to fully recognize what a blessing your life truly is.

Unfortunately, so many of us constantly choose to focus on the imperfections in our lives. It is so frustrating to hear people complain about the pettiest things. Whether it’s a conflict with a co-worker, a boyfriend/girlfriend, their car, their job, their clothes, their home, and all the other things that you have heard complaints about, it’s amazing to me that more people don’t take one moment to say, “You know, I may be going through…. (Fill in the blank)….but I am so grateful for my health.” As simple as that may sound, try to remember the last time you heard someone say something along those lines. Now try to remember the last time you took a moment, in the face of adversity, and gave thanks for a blessing in your life. If you cannot remember, this is the time for you to alter your perception of life and begin to recognize how blessed you truly are.

Don’t be the person that always has something negative to point out about a situation, or another person. Stop worrying about the petty things that you won’t even remember a few days from now. Stop living your life in fear and uncertainty, and begin to accept that you are destined for greatness, and that your destiny awaits you. Let go of your pursuit and admiration of worldly things, because they are all temporary. Search for things that will elevate your spirit and empower your soul, for that is the only thing that is eternal. And finally, begin to recognize and appreciate the blessing that is your life, because only then will you become who you were intended to be.

Hope you had a beautiful weekend. Have a wonderful and productive week. One love, Yashar

(hit Yashar Mehrabani up on Facebook if you like what you read)

Once again, this is not written by me, it just gets sent to me every Sunday, and I thought I would share because it’s very insightful stuff. Maybe even TOO insightful for TMRB, but so what?

“What we see depends mainly on what we look for”

Kanye Got My Back!

Rod Benson — 2009-09-18T17:35:48-07:00

The Update to Not and Retarded

Rod Benson — 2009-09-18T17:35:19-07:00

So, after posting the “Not and Retarded” post last week, I got emails from both of the women in the article.

Hunter, the blonde girl who I didn’t have much of a problem with at all, proved why. She wrote a very sincere apology and to be honest, she didn’t even need to, because she apologized that night. There’s no need to mention her further. She’s not that bad.

Annie, the other one, wasn’t so accepting of the incident. John, the other factor from the evening sent me a text message conversation that he had with her before I got any email. I was ROLLING when I read this. john’s a fool for this. John’s msg’s are in RED. Annie’s are black. This is how it went:

12:02 AM): Who is this?
(12:02 AM): Annie a****le
(12:03 AM): I am pissed at your black friend, you guys are a****les just wait. I will get back at you.
(12:04 AM): I didn't post it. Ur whack anyways. You never hit me back.
(12:06 AM): Gimme my shirt back and we'll talk. Otherwise ur whack in my book
(12:06 AM): Whatever bye. Just because I am busy on the road and I can't reply back I get this? You are all awful and I was right about u and your friends
(12:07 AM): F**k you John! Never contact me again!!!!
(12:08 AM): I'm not trying to ur whack.
(12:08 AM): Have fun on ur broke ass trip
(12:09 AM): Just go away. Do not contact me ever again. You all are dead to me. I liked you and fey but at this point go away!!!
(12:09 AM): Bye asshole. Keep living your closed minded miserable life.
(12:10 AM): No ones tryin to like you! We will succed. U have fun strugglin
(12:10 AM): Glad you fit in to the rest of middle America. It fits you
(12:11 AM): Ur lower america. Stop talking to me. Keep the shirt
(12:11 AM): Bye! Have fun being negative. People w negative and closed minded thoughts never succeed. Keep living "the dream" ps you're not black.
(12:11 AM): Bye.
(12:12 AM): F**k you. Stop texting me
(12:12 AM): Ur a waste of my minutes
(12:15 AM): Deleted.
(12:16 AM): F**k urself
(12:16 AM): stop!!!!!!!!!!
(12:28 AM): I'm not trying to talk to you. I wanted charity the whole time. Please don't text m.e. Ur deal is whack

The next day:

(9:17 AM): I'm going to apologize because I yelled at you before I even re
I'm going to apologize because I yelled at you before I even read the article. Its not your fault and I'm sorry for yelling at you. Your friend is still a very
(9:18 AM): Hateful person but he is allowed to blog whatever he wants but its a shame he is blogging about a story that is one sided and untrue. But in any case I'm sorry
(9:18 AM): And charity can give you back your shirt. You were a gentleman for letting me wear it when I was cold. So thanks, I didn't steal it on purpose.

So I read all of this before getting an email from her the next morning. I was laughing so hard I could hardly breathe. I love how she says “I’m pissed at your black friend.” Mike is also black and besides that John has a ton of black friends. Whatever. It must have been minutes after her last text to John. I’ll just lay out her email, my response (in blue), and her final email:

“Hey, just wanted to know I read your email. I'm not mad, but are allowed to have your own point of views.

Like I said I didn't know those guys and I was not hanging out with them. I was hanging out with John. I still am clueless to know who those guys are.

The thing is, I'm a little hurt that you would say my name and tell people to say mean things to me. I'm not vindictive so I'm not going to retaliate.

And honestly you don't know me and its a shame you have to s**t talk about people before you even know them.

John and I were talking to each other at that point. He gave me his shirt to wear because he was a gentleman. Whatever he said to you about the case is because he was trying to be a man in front of you.

In any case, I enjoyed your blog, I think you are a funny person and I have even supported you and had links to your funny videos on my facebook.

I think its sad that you know none of this and yet you can try to be so hurtful. I was only combative that night because you were combative as well. I know the owner of the club and he was there and he even knows what happened.

With this being said. I call a truce. Let me know if you can be a man and accept that. If not then I'm sorry you feel so much hate in your heart that you had to belittle someone you don't even know.”

Here are some things you must understand:

First, you're right, I don't know you, but it was based on first impressions and John (maybe to not seem so ho-before-bro-ish) was legit mad about his shirt. I can only paint a certain picture if I am only given a few paints.

Secondly, I actually don't have negative emotion towards you. It's not really me to remain vindictive. That being said, that event is extremely funny in retrospect. Does the story vilify you? Yes. Do I say anything that's untrue? No. I tell the story exactly how it happened from our side. If you have a big problem with that, it's only because you truly didn't understand how it looked to us. Now you have a better understanding of how you placed yourself in our minds -- the spark that set the night on fire.

Thirdly, I know you're not apologetic about what happened that night, and neither am I. It is what it is -- a funny story with a funny antagonist and a lame result. I didn't even think about you, or that night, until I was beginning to write about my L.A. experience, of which you were the first of many. I am willing to call a "truce," but understand that implies that there is some sort of battle and I'm not battling anyone. I'm just, quite unapologetically, recounting a night exactly how it happened, and expecting to never hear from you again, told people (like I always do) to come at you. It worked, now here you are.

Anyways, when you sent me this email I was more ready to be kind and rewind, so to speak, but then John sent me a text conversation that claimed you were going to come at me. That's all good and fine, if you want, I guess. Do what you like. I will publicly accept your truce on my site, so people know to stop coming at you, but I will show them how the truce came to pass: you asked, I read a text convo between you and John, then accepted, still. Why? Because it's still all incredibly funny and good fodder. Hopefully you can see it the same way, because I have driven people to your site, and our little "truce" will only drive you MORE traffic. Take that as a sign of my lightheartedness about the situation.

Rod Benson

... And BOOM goes the dynamite!

Ok I'm not mad as I said about any of that. What I'm mad is that you try to get your friends to say shit to me which in my own opinion is childish. Also when I sent those texts to John I hadn't even read the article and I was drunk. So all I heard is really bad stuff so I went off on John. Also, John is trying to act hard in front of you. He tries to act mad about his shirt because he knows you have ill feelings toward me. I have told many times I would give it back to him and he has never followed through so I guess he's not that mad about the shirt. Why would I want the shirt? Its twenty times too big for me? Also this is after many poems John sent to me after that night and him repeatedly begging to take me out and saying that you guys are nothing. I have zero respect for someone that can throw their friends under the bus to get a girl then go talk s**t about the girl to his friends that he just said awful things about.

Anyway. This is between you and I. I don't care about the article that's up on your site. Just please take down the part about me being on facebook and to come at me. And until you have a better understanding of someone, who they are, and what they aim to be... I would try to be a little less judgemental. Because in all reality, I'm not the girl you painted me out to be.

Thanks for writing me back. No hard feelings.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now it all comes out in the wash. John was saving. Hard. I told him I resuscitate parties, but I don’t save ho’s. True story. Maybe she was so fired up because she had a thing with John or whatever, but still, this whole event makes her look sillier than anyone.

Still, I made a promise and I am keeping it. This is the official truce. If you see her on the streets, on Facebook, MySpace, or whatever, DO NOT ANTAGONIZE HER. She made her best apology attempt and, I guess, it’s in the past and I’m not trippin. Once again, however, remember that this could happen to you if you choose to party in LALA Land. Keep a watchful eye, my friends, and stay mad boom tho!

Boom Tho: The Mixtape!

Rod Benson — 2009-09-11T01:32:39-07:00

First of all, here’s the newest video, featuring Mike Fey (UCLA 06) and John “Legend” Fieweger:
>

Now, you will also need to check out the entire Mixtape and tell me what you think, because I’ll be making videos for these songs and skits all season, so get ready. It’s gonna be fun to just film all year for songs I’ve already done. So, no B.S., here’s 13 songs, skits, and otherwise of straight up BoomThoNess. Peep the cover art too.. Its itunes ready without the 99cents:

Boom Tho: The Mixtape!

NOT and Retarded

Rod Benson — 2009-09-10T18:35:52-07:00

My first weekend in Hollywood, I was with Mike and John (in case you havent guessed by now, they are definitely my L.A. crew) and we were kickin it at Rand’s house in downtown. I literally went there straight off the plane, met Rand and John, and then went out with them in the wood.

Fey mentioned that we were gonna go to some spot I had never heard of, but I was cool with it because I understand that he always knows what’s up down there. John seemed pretty hyped about it and Rand was more or less along for the ride like me.

Fey and John mentioned that some girls they knew would be filming for their reality show or something like that while we were there, so I was kind of weary about partying on TV, but then I realized that any Boom Tho video pretty much has the same things. These girls had their own blog or something called hot and retarded I warmed up to the idea by the time we arrive.

It was a little spot, kind of tucked away close to an alley way right off the Highland exit of 101 (that only means something to the Hollywood people, I guess). It was actually suspiciously small. When we walked in, it seemed too small to house that many folks, but I’ve been to places like Hyde and that’s pretty small too, but never lacking in Boom-Tho-Ness. We get settled at the far end of the place and quickly decide (since the place is still empty) that we want to get bottle service.

Two bottles, 4 dudes, it seemed all good. We got our party started on our end of this small place. After a few minutes, a couple of girls walk in with bright camera lights following them. Since there were only ten people there, this event caused an obvious scene. John walked over to them to talk about who-knows-what and soon he was back with us, saying that we should head over to them because they needed it to look like the party was crackin for TV purposes.

We all headed over to the other side of the room where there were two dudes none of us knew, and three girls that Mike and John knew. I sat there and played the part. Soon, though, I got over it and went back to my table, but not before snapping this picture with the two ‘TV’ girls:

I know what you’re thinking: damn that Rod Benson is hella Boom Tho! I know. I can’t argue, but this isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Soon after I returned to the table, Mike, John, Rand, and the girls came over. Before I knew it, our two bottles were gone. Nothing wrong with that. The night was progressing just like many other before. Those dudes we didn’t know came over to our table before it was all said and done and I kept to myself mostly, besides my usual “Dance Off” quality moves.

All of a sudden it was closing time. We were the first to arrive and the last to leave, it seemed. Now we were signing off on our check and about to be on our way, but there was a problem.

Our bill had 3 bottles charged to it when we had only consumed two. It was quickly worked out that those two guys we didn’t know had charged one to our table, promised to pay for it, and left. Very classy.

Well the extra 500 had to come from someone. We all turned at looked at these two girls, not because they owed us 500, but because they knew and had invited these dudes. We needed some answers. Problem was, they failed to provide any... At all.

Before we knew it, security was hounding us for the money and we were in the kitchen. All of us were there, including team Hot and Retarded. They said that the money wasn’t their responsibility because they didn’t know the guys. Mike, who’s card was down, was starting to get angry. I told him that I would be the jerk tonight.

I came at the girls hard. I told them that we didn’t know them either (even though they DEFINITELY knew these guys) and that since we all partied together that we should all chip in equally. Security asked that I leave them alone. I asked why. Just because they were female didn’t mean that they weren’t involved and that their money isn’t green.

One of the girls, sensing that I was not about to let this go, started to take a crying tone. She asked that we just leave them alone because they had no money, but that she could give us the guys phone number. That was a good start. The other girl, the one in the right of the pic above, was way more combative. She kept arguing that they didn’t owe anything. That’s when I let her have it.

I told her that no amount of breast implants work double time as brain implants and that she just looked stupid. I then told her that she would pay for this somehow, eventually.

While I was in the middle of berating her, she took off. I had to help Mike work out the bill and then we were off, looking for her. Couldn’t find her anywhere. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find John either.

Come to find out that John is at Mels with her! I guess he was talking to her the whole time. WTF?

We smash over to Mels and I run in. I can’t find either of them. I look in both bathrooms, furious. Still nothing. All of a sudden John’s walkin back towards the car. I’m kinda mad at him but I’m looking for this Spring Break breezy. I don’t call her spring break cuz she’s wild, but because there’s no class.

I can’t find her anywhere. We jump in the car and begin to drive away. I then see her walking out, with 4 new dudes, wearing Johns brand new $150 shirt over her dress. It’s too late to do anything.

I guess I should thank her because she got John, who needed to be got for his actions, and she quickly introduced me to Hollywood’s legal prostitution. Drinks and partying will be on you, no matter what. As long as you’re “Hot and Retarded,” the sky’s the limit in the city of angels. But, I will get the last laugh. Well, maybe you’ll help me. Visit their site, and tell Annie Wonderlich (she’s on FB, too) that she can “Wonderlich my balls.” Thanks Hansel for that.

Oh and I guess they should be called “Broke and Retarded” because they have a DONATIONS page on their blog. How far do they really think they can get, being a group of 7’s? Not even dimes! Coddamn!

This is NOT O.K.

Rod Benson — 2009-09-10T18:33:15-07:00

This isn’t a very long story at all, it’s just an event that most men would find absolutely repulsive, so I must make you share my pain.

I was at the Mondrain Hotel in Hollywood (I spent most of the last month there), gettin in some pool time on a Saturday afternoon. It was me, Mike Fey, John (the Resuscitation team) and three girls who Mike had invited to come kick it at the pool. What you need to know about expensive Hollywood hotels is that their pools take on a Vegas vibe on the weekends and they turn into party pools. Now that that’s understood, we can move on.

So, like I said, short and sweet. I was in the water with John, and the girls were sitting up on the edge of the pool. All of a sudden the girls look off into the distance and start laughing. They are murmuring something to each other that I can’t really make out, so I ask them what they’re talkin about.

They say that I wouldn’t understand. My narcissistic side disagrees. There’s nothing funny that I couldn’t understand. I keep probing them. FInally they tell me to look as they point towards towards the other side of the pool. My view is something like this:

This view is actually not as good as mine. What you’re seeing here is a screen cap of a video that John tried to make but he got too excited, thinking that he had the shot, when he didn’t. He’s trying to capture what I eventually saw: this girl has a TAMPON string hanging down like 6 inches.

She dances around for about 5 minutes while the girls try to figure out who should tell her. I sit there, grossed out, awaiting some sort of action. Finally, one of the girls walks over and whispers something to her. She looks to her friend, and asks her for help, tucking it away as discretely as possible. But this string was sponsored by Brett Favre, because it was retired three times, and kept coming back. Her friend had to help her tuck that thing away again and again before she finally made a trip to the bathroom.

I think the girls we were with were right. I had no clue how to handle the situation except to nearly throw up into the pool, which still wouldn’t be as gross as being drawn to a dangling string of an ugly, drunken girl. Oh man that was almost as rough as the time a volleyball coach for a team we were playing had a big red stain on the crotch of her white pants. Some things you gotta notice all by yourself.

The Message

Rod Benson — 2009-09-10T18:16:55-07:00

A few weeks ago my buddy Ramy sent me an email forward that I thought was interesting. It was called “Sunday Message,” and every week since, he has been forwarding me these messages that I think are pretty well said and timely for a lot of people. They are written by a buddy of his named Yashar Mehrabani who is a facebooker in case you wanted to look him up.

In an attempt to share and not be the selfish one, I figured I would drop these messages on you as well so you can feel the love as well. So, enough of me, more message:

“Accelerate your life to slow motion.”

In the immortal words of my mentor, we need to learn how to accelerate our lives to slow motion, and begin to appreciate all the blessings that we have been granted. Do you recognize the beauty that surrounds you? Do you acknowledge all the ways in which you have been blessed? Do you tell the people who are most important to you, how much you love and adore them? If not, this is the perfect moment to start doing so.

Before I embarked on this amazing and beautiful journey that I am on, I was extremely impatient. I always wanted things to go my way, and I wanted them to happen on my schedule. I wanted to hurry up and finish school, I wanted to get started with my career, buy a nice car, buy a house, and travel the world. I was stuck living my life looking at the possibilities of the future, rather than appreciating and living in the present. Unfortunately, living in this manner led me to frustration and disappointment every time. I felt that people consistently let me down and that God had turned his back on me. But being so unhappy in my life I realized that something was wrong and that I needed to make a change…and I did.

I will always share things with you that I know have worked for me. In this case, I was able to find fulfillment and happiness in my life by simply slowing down. I understand how difficult that can be in this hectic world that we live in. With short attention spans and the need for everything to be instant and at our fingertips, it is extremely challenging at first to take a deep breath and appreciate the simple things. It is even more difficult to accept that things don’t happen on your schedule, and that you may not always get what you want, when you want it. But if you can let go of the desire to control everything in your life, you will certainly open up so many more doors that lead to joy and bliss.

Unfortunately, I always hear people worrying and complaining. Whether it’s about financial struggles, relationship issues, or simply their daily life, most people I come across find a reason not to be happy. So what can you do to stop worrying and begin living your life to its fullest? Slow down, and incorporate an attitude of gratitude into your life. The next time you feel like worrying about something out of your control, think about something you are grateful for. When you begin to think about money and your bills, give thanks for your health and the fact that you have your limbs and you don’t live in pain. When you feel like being down and just feeling negative, be grateful that you have a home, with food to eat and clean water to drink. I am often asked how I can be so positive all the time, and my answer is simple and to the point….How can I not be? My life may not be perfect, but I do believe in God. And with all the blessings that are in my life, how could I ever complain about anything. Instead, I choose to recognize and appreciate all the blessings and opportunities in my life, and this has led me to pure happiness and fulfillment.

I leave you with this. You may not have everything that you want in your life, at this very moment, but if those things were intended for you, you will receive them. So instead of living your life, constantly looking at the things you don’t have, begin to appreciate the things that you do have. And this is only possible if you slow down and recognize everything that is in your life. By simply shifting your attitude in this very slight way, you will find your purpose, fulfill your potential and find peace in your heart. I am certain that this is the way because all of my other approaches failed miserably. I share this with you because I know that if I can do this, there is no reason why you can’t. And I know that if I found happiness in my life, happiness is awaiting you in your life. This is your time ….

I hope you had a beautiful weekend. Have a wonderful and productive week. One love, Yashar

Starburst, of Burning Man, Enters My World...

Rod Benson — 2009-08-06T20:08:55-07:00

I was down in SoCal with my boys Mike Fey (UCLA ’06) and John “Legend” Fieweger for the “6 Man” volleyball festival. We had our fun for a couple days down in Manhattan Beach then it was time to head back up to Malibu to Mike’s spot to chill.

While we were heading back to Mike’s house, he got a call. He relayed the news to me that there would be a party crackin at his spot when we got there. I was hyped to see the big house party, but he informed me that he didnt know any of the people. In fact, he didn’t know anybody who knew these people. He did know that the people throwing the party were not like us.

It seemed a little strange that he phrased everything the way he did. Why would there be a party at his house if he didnt know any of the patrons? It didnt really make sense.

He explained to me that a large part of the property is rented out for events since its a big property deep within the hills of Malibu. He stressed that this particular party, which he had been told would be over the day before, was actually being held by “Burning Man” people. I still don’t quite understand what it means, but a quick wiki made it seem like they shouldn’t be at his house but in the desert.

I guess that the actually Burning Man event is only held once a year, but in the meantime they have gatherings at random locations and do a bunch of weird nonsense. What would be the chances that they would have one of these events at Mike Fey’s house on THE day I go to Malibu? Seemed like he was making stuff up to scare me. Then we arrived.

Strange people were doing strange things all over the property. There were dudes dressed up like Ninja Geiden, women hoola hooping around their necks, multiple DJ’s spinning trippy acid music, and random Yanni look-a-like’s running around preying and being naked. Honestly I was quite frightened.

So hours later, after the fear subsided, we were on our way to get some food. We had heard through the grapevine that one of the people there was named “Starburst.” It quickly became a quick mission of ours to discover who it was.

It didn’t take long to discover Starburst. I saw a woman standing by the rock bed. I yelled the name Starburst and she turned around. I then whipped out my camera and asked her some questions. You’re about to see that video.

Check out the people who pass by and REALLY check out the Asian dude and what he says. It’s downright epic.

Finally, I Accidentally Enter The Dance Off

Rod Benson — 2009-07-25T20:17:25-07:00

Back months and months ago, Clay claimed he was the best dancer in our crew. It turned into a full “Dance Off” between all of my Boom Tho bros.

Anyways, everyone did their videos except me. There wasn’t really a reason for the lack of dance video. Two nights I put on some “Flock of Seagulls” and it got me hyped. I turned on my camera and... Well, just check it out.

So I think you should check out all the videos and give me a final judgement on who won. Remember that nobody is using their real dance moves, but just feeling the music. Here are the past submissions:

JGants Dance Off vid from Rod Benson on Vimeo.

Aubrey Enters the Dance Off from Rod Benson on Vimeo.

Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.

Now it’s voting time.

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Just One Funny MySpace Message

Rod Benson — 2009-07-23T21:29:34-07:00

MySpace is nearly dead these days and it really hinders my “Funny MySpace Msgs” section on my site, however this gem just came up and KILLED me. Seriously. I have no words.... The msg was sent to Clay and he forwarded it to me, saying that all he gets is msgs from gay men now for no reason. I had no idea EXACTLY what he meant.

From: The King Of Gay Music
To: absolute -- twitter.com/claytyclay
Date: Jul 20, 2009 6:52 AM
Subject:

Sup.. did u see i was on Mediatakeout the other day?
Headlines as the Gay Rapper and they showed my video..

so now mainstream america views me as "THY" Gay Rapper.. I Love it.. here is My controversial Video
and Link to the site

Addicted 2 Boyz

Compete or Get Urinated On: A True Story

Rod Benson — 2009-07-21T22:09:00-07:00

Every year, former Cal Wide Receiver Chase Lyman holds a series of competitions at his house on one day in the last weekend in June. These competitions range from Quarterback Challenge to Darts to Bocce Ball to Home Run Derby. These events are called the “Lyma Bean Olympics.”

This past OLYMPICS, I went down there to compete against Prelle, Richard Midgley, Mike McGrath, Tosh Lupoi, Conor Famulenor, and others. I did pretty poorly, but this story isn’t about me, it’s about Prelle and Mike.

I guess Mike has always performed pretty poorly at these events and Prelle has always done pretty well. So to spice things up a little bit they made a bet. They made it a little uneven given Mike’s performances in the past, but still, the difference was miniscule. The bet was that if Mike had a higher score at the end of the competitions, he would get to Pee on Prelle’s Chest. If Prelle won, he would get to Pee on Mike’s back. So it was written, so it shall be done.

We used aliases for everyone, but since Mike is balding, he’s on the board as “Rogaine.” Prelle is “The Nose.” As you can see, going into the final event they were all tied up. All that was left to establish a champion was pool. They would play each other to see who would get the golden shower.

Right before the final match

The pool game came down to the last couple of shots. What you’re about to see is video of those last few shots and what ensued. Be advised that there is no actual pee in this video, but that there is quite a bit of profanity because I didnt want to spend hours editing every cuss word they throw out.

Where Have I Been?

Rod Benson — 2009-07-21T22:07:53-07:00

Between Vacationing all over, then playing Summer League, Reading Twilight, and accidentally deleting my entire blog, its been a rough couple of months for TMRB.COM. Anyways Im back! Hollar!

This is What Happens When You Forget What You've Done

Rod Benson — 2009-06-16T19:55:27-07:00

So I was at my girlfriends apartment in San Francisco one afternoon and she had to leave the house to go to work or something. The problem with this was that her roommate absolutely despises my presence, and hates when I’m around without her. She once since my girl a text message reading: “What about ‘I don’t want Rod here when you’re not here’ do you not understand?” -- cold-blooded to say the least.

Anyways, I decided to stay and take a nap despite the fact that her roommate was home. My girl warned me to stay in the room with the door closed until I left and to not make much noise so that I wouldn’t get her in trouble. I agreed and fell asleep.

I woke up a few hours later and could hear her roommate rumbling the next room. Damn. I would have to put my headphones on and watch a movie on my computer so as to not make a peep. I laid there for quite some time and her roommate kept rumbling in her own room now, with the door open so that if I left the room I was in, I would be seen for sure. Damn.

After another hour or so of hiding in the bedroom, the urge to drain the main vein hit me like a ton of bricks. What was I to do? I couldn’t leave the room, not yet at least. I didn’t have many options. It’s not like I could piss out the window from the fourth floor of a San Francisco building onto a busy street. As time wore on, I tried to hold it, but it became unbearable.

I started to panic. This was gonna be all bad unless I found a solution soon. I have always believed that being able to hold it is mental, meaning you can hold it all day long, but as soon as you get near a toilet, it becomes impossible and you start jumping around like the counter finally hit zero. With that in mind you should always be able to remain composed as long as you keep the mental focus. My mental focus is very strong, but I feel like the fact that the bathroom was seven feet away eroded my mental ability to withstand the pressure. It seemed too close to hold out. I was torturing myself.

Finally, when my bladder countdown turned from minutes to seconds, I made a play. I ran over to what used to be a glass of water and was now empty, stood over it, unzipped, and did my deal. It felt great, truly great.

As soon as I was done, a full glass nearly to the brim, by the way, I said to myself: “Don’t forget to dispose of this glass before you leave.” Can’t just leave piss lying around these days, you know?

Later that day I was walking with my boy Prelle. We had just gotten some Jamba Juice in the marina and were headed to grab some real food somewhere in the area. My phone buzzed. It was a BBM from my girlfriend.

“Is that Urine in a glass on my desk?”

I froze. I yelled. I laughed. I worried, Prelle looked at me like I had gone crazy. He asked me what I was reacting to. I first set up the backstory, then I showed him the BBM.

“Wait, wait, wait. This is the greatest question ever. It has like three parts, each worse than the part before. Is that Urine? In a glass? On my desk?” He exclaimed.

He then spent the rest of the day repeating that same statement. As for my girl, she didn’t even get mad at me. In fact, she said that she at first thought it was apple juice and leaned in for a sniff, getting a little of Benson’s Own on her nose. Even I was grossed out by that. It just made her angry at her roommate, who was such a tyrant that I didn’t feel comfortable walking the seven feet to the real bathroom.

I guess I’ve learned my lesson. If I’m gonna piss in a glass, I need to leave a note saying that it isn’t Martinelli’s, it’s Rod’s.

Randy Goes For His Own Manage

Rod Benson — 2009-06-14T14:29:02-07:00

As it so happens, “Jimmy” wasn’t the only one to try for the 3 of a kind. A few weeks later, “Randy” had his own encounter. Once again, Randy is not his real name, it’s been changed to protect the guilty, as have all the names in the following story.

So one day Randy was telling me about how he doesn’t like to talk about potential good things in his life because he always jinxes them. It was an odd conversation to have with him. It seemed rather pointless.

I asked him why this was at all relevant. He explained that he would tell me because there were a couple of other people who knew what the deal was already.

Randy showed me a BBM conversation that he had had with a girl he has been talking to. She had asked him something about what he would want to do for fun. I can’t remember the exact words, but somehow a Manage came up. Expecting to read that she denied the idea quickly, she actually embraced it.

I looked up at Randy with a grin. It would appear that the improbably was now possible for him and I got excited as if it were me. I would now do anything in my power to coddle such a situation.

The situation developed over the next few days. The girl, we’ll call her “Stacy”, recruited a friend to participate. We’ll call the friend “Monica.” So Stacy found Monica and told her about the deal. Monica agreed and it looked like ol’ Randy was good to go. He consulted me on the situation.

He didn’t know if he should get a hotel room or whatever. I told him that of course he should. It would only add to the comfort level. Meanwhile, he was getting dirty texts from the girls about what they were going to do to him. He was riding high on a wave of emotion.

Finally the day came. He got a hotel room right across from the club that we were going to go to that night. The situation was primed and ready.

The girls met up with him after dinner so that they could pre-party at the hotel. Now they were all drinking in the hotel and Randy was sending me the updates via BBM. It all seemed like it was good to go. He said that he was taking very awesome pictures of Stacy and Monica making out. He said that clothing may or may not have been a factor during the pictures. It sounded pretty damn official.

Me, my girl, and the rest of the crew, met up with Randy and his women at the club and the three of them were dancing with each other. I pulled Randy aside and asked him what the progress was. He told me that Stacy was beginning to have reservations, but that Monica was all for it. I told him to get more liquor and do his deal.

See, our whole crew knew the story at this point and we were all pulling for him. We watched his every move. We watched as he gave both girls a fair amount of attention. We watched him do the normally very innocent “dance in-between two women” move, that now meant so much more. He was actually attempting to keep two separate women stimulated for hours. It was quite entertaining. I left him at about 1am. Randy was now on his own to handle the situation.

The next day I called Randy to see if it all went down. He told me that when he got back to the room, Monica was ready to go. The problem was that Stacy, the one who initiated the whole thing, now had cold feet about her friend possibly gettin down with Randy and put the brakes on the whole thing. Monica, tired of waiting, left the hotel room to go meet up with her boyfriend for some sweet lovin, while Randy and Stacy passed out.

He was so close, but yet so far away. Now my friends are 0-2 in the summer of ’09. There’s still plenty of time to get it done, though.

Jimmy Goes For the Manage

Rod Benson — 2009-06-14T09:56:14-07:00

All of the parties in the following stories chose to remain anonymous, of course, so I’ve changed the names to protect the guilty.

We were in Vegas staying at the Venetian about a month ago. After going out the night before, I was the first one up in the morning the next day. It was about 11am and I knew that it would take a while to rally the troops. So I got fully dressed in my pool garb, grabbed my Ipod Dock (Bose. Very loud.) and went room to room, blasting Techno until everyone was up and ready.

We made it down to the pool at about 1, finally, and started gettin it crackin. We didn’t head into TAO Beach right away. We like to get our swerve on at the regular pool first, using the Ipod speakers to have our own party.

Once we were done doin our thing, we went into TAO Beach to take it to the next level. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been to TAO Beach, but I can tell you it’s small, loud, and ridiculous. When we entered, I immediately lost one of my boys. You would think it would be tough to lose somebody at a pool the size of a Texaco, but I couldn’t find him.

The thing about this boy of mine, I’ll call him “Jimmy,” is that he almost exclusively dates Asian women. It’s just his thing. We all know this and that’s why he and I have never clashed on the female front. We have very different tastes.

Anyways, after about an hours, Jimmy comes splashing into the pool with two women who fit his target demographic. He’s clearly all over one as he has her up against the wall of the pool, grinding to the sweet tunes pumping over all the patrons that afternoon.

I was happy for Jimmy, because he is just now gettin his college mojo back that he let slip away over the last year. So when I saw him with his tongue now down the girl’s throat. It was damn near magical. Many photos were taken that afternoon and I would like to say that half of them were borderline Cinemax: After Dark.

After the party was over, I headed back to my room with my roommate “Chris.” I was hella tired from a whole day of partying and needed a nap. Chris left the room and I got in bed. It was then that I started getting BBM’s from Jimmy.

“Man why is everybody actin gay?”

“#$*% these chicks aint dimes, but come on punanny punanny.”

I interrupted him.

“What are you talkin bout Jim? I have no clue,” I asked.

“It’s official, I’m off ‘Randy,’ and ‘Gary.’ All I need is a F#$%@$ wingman and they’re actin like they don’t like punanny,” he said.

Right then, Chris walked into the room laughing. I asked him if he was laughing at Jimmy’s situation and he said that he was. See, I know the Chris would handle business in that situation so I was actually more wondering why he didn’t lock and load into WIngman mode.

“Hold up Chris,” I interrupted his laughter, “WTF is goin on over in Jimmy’s room?”

Chris is a very technical talker. He’s probably as Spock-like as a man can be.

“Basically the situation is this: Jimmy brought the woman and her friend from TAO Beach back to his hotel room. They are currently in his bed, completely inebriated. Jimmy is trying to have sex with his girl, but her friend is hating. Jimmy is trying to put the other girl onto Randy or Gary, both of whom don’t want her.”

Chris’ voice was like that of a narrator.

“So,” I started, “you didn’t want to get on drunk girl #2?”

“Well,” he answered, “I tried to help Jimmy out, but they only wanted black guys.”

Chris is Jewish. He was the only non-black guy on our trip.

“Damn son. Cold blooded. Why doesn’t Jimmy go for the Manage? If they are that drunk... I mean it IS Vegas,” I asked.

From what I was told later on, the girls made many attempts to leave, but Jimmy did his best to keep them there. They had a long meeting in the bathroom of his room and he took the opportunity to call me and voice his concern.

He told me that they weren’t down for the manage. He then spent 5 minutes saying how much he hated all his boys for not taking the other girl, leaving him punanny-less.

If there was one moral to this otherwise moral-less story it’s this: Find a girl who likes Jewish guys. The end.

I Must Protect the 7'3" Polish Guy!

Rod Benson — 2009-04-02T16:25:03-07:00

Have you ever seen the movie “Can’t Hardly Wait”? I have many times. When I was a high schooler, our basketball team room had a pretty nice TV, couches, and a VCR. The problem was that there were only two movies in there. For no good reason whatsoever, one of these movies was Master P’s masterpiece: “I Got The Hookup.” The other was “Can’t Hardly Wait.” I digress.

In “Can’t Hardly Wait,” there’s a scene where the kids make the foreigner say things like “would you like to touch my...” you can finish the sentence. Anyways, that character kind of embodies my Polish teammate Cezary Trybanski. He actually speaks English pretty well, but there are times when he just doesn’t know when he’s being taken advantage of.

This story starts and ends with what happened the other night. We were out at some bar around the corner just talking and listening to this blues musician. One of my teammates is on the other side of the bar chillin, and Cezary is sitting next to some guy with a beard. It looks like they’re talking. A few minutes later, Cezary walks up to me.

“Can you come to tell me what he says?” He asks me.

“What are you talkin bout C?” I ask him right back.

“This guy, I don’t understand him. Find out what he says to me.”

I walk over with Cezary to this new friend. Cezary sits down again while I lean in.

“What are you talkin about? My teammate can’t understand you,” I yell to this guy over the music.

In a ridiculously raspy voice, like a Ken Kaniff from Connecticut type voice, he says:

“What are you guys doing?”

It was clear why Cezary couldn’t understand him. His voice was just do funny and raspy.

“We’re here chillin. That’s obvious,” I say to the creepy voiced guy.

“What are you guys doin later?” he asks me again.

I’m thinkin he knows about some sort of after party or something.

“I dunno man. We ain’t sure yet.”

“Do you guys wanna get in a hot tub with me?”

I thought I misheard him in a bad way.

“What!?!” I yell out even louder than before.

“I said do you guys wanna get in a hot tub with meeee?”

“HAIL NO!”

I grab Cezary and start to walk him away.

“Wait man, you don’t know what I’d do to you man. For real I’d s...”

The guy started a sentence I didn’t need to hear the end of. I took off running, Cezary right there with me until we were on the other side of the bar. RIght then, as if he had teleported over, the guy was right behind us.

“April fools, man. April fools, man,” he was yelling at us in his raspy, nasty Ken Kaniff voice.

I told him to step off. I didn’t believe him. It wasn’t even April Fools day, for one. Secondly, you cant run an April Fools joke on someone who doesn’t speak English. Whatever. Moral of the story is that I now have to watch over the Polish guy so that nobody takes advantage of him.

Whip Game Proper

Rod Benson — 2009-04-02T16:17:35-07:00

Since photo’s of my car were already leaked on ridiculousupside.com (via my Facebook), I figured I’d do it right and show you how I’m rollin. It’s gonna be a great summer, baby! Oh yea, and my custom license plates will be here in a few weeks. If you can’t guess the 7 letter phrase that will be on my plates, then you REALLY don’t know me at all.

How to Lose a Pillow Fight

Rod Benson — 2009-03-13T12:14:09-07:00

Clay and I attended the big pillow fight in San Francisco during the D-League all star break. I was dominating everyone all day using my overhead beatdown method. It also led to multiple people trying to jump me and take me out. The following video is of my final confrontation. It left me feeling slightly concussed and with a skinned nose and forehead.

How to lose a pillow fight:

LOLBoom 5

Rod Benson — 2009-03-09T15:04:48-07:00

The second photo isn’t even a real LOLBoom. I just LOL’d when someone sent it to me in an email. Photoshop is funny....

Beat Me at the Poem Game?

Rod Benson — 2009-03-09T15:05:41-07:00

If you’re unfamiliar with the Poem Game, I suggest you click here and check it out before proceeding.

Now that you’re caught up, I got the following email a couple weeks ago:

I want to test my BoomThoNess and see where I rank among all that is Boomy. Maybe some sort of fan challenge, or maybe a head to head battle with the creator of the game itself. Below is a sample of a poem. Let me know what you think about the challenge.

Boomin in Iowa,
Mike

My poem:

BBQ Chicken, Macaroni and Cheese,
You're so hot I'm weak in the knees,

You break the thermostat - you're like a million degrees,
If you were Charmin, I'd want to squeeze.

So let's start out with something simple,
Cause when you smile I see your dimple,

Give me a call don't hesitate,
Cause we should already be on our first date!

My initial response is: Did you see Boom Tho Girl 2? Clearly that’s one hell of a poem game. But, still, yours in pretty solid and should have any waitress ready like spaghetti. That being said, I think this poem warrants two other responses:

1. If there’s anyone out there who can use the above poem to pick up a waitress (or flight attendant or whatever), contact me and tell me all about it.

2. If you feel you can do even BETTER, post a comment or contact me with the improved material.

Boom.

Coleman Collins: LAX

Rod Benson — 2009-03-09T15:06:01-07:00

My boy Coleman Collins (College at VaTech, summer league w Toronto Raptors, training camp w PHX, current Ft Wayne Mad Ant, and Boom Got Them 3 cameo guy) has some interesting perspectives on things in life, so a couple months ago, I asked him to join the movement more officially and write for tmrb. It took quite a while to come around, but he finally submitted something. Leave a comment if you like his style, please. I think he’s got a unique sense of humor, personally. So, here it is.

LAX:

So you're walking through LAX...hit security. Woman behind you. Beautiful, naturally. Bangs and a smile and one of those outfits that didn't used to be proper in public but somehow is now. A baby-tee with a sweaterish thing over it, spandex tights and boots. You don't know who decided it was suddenly ok for women to not wear actual pants out and around but you owe whoever it is a drink or a handshake or something. ("Pants are overrated" - Carl Elliott, teammate). So anyway, she's looking at you like she wore those specifically with you in mind, and then the woman behind us asks a stupid question and gives you an in. ("You have to take your shoes off now? I haven't flown in a while, but gosh, that seems a bit excessive.") So you make the lay-up joke about damn how long has it been, what year is it again and then she laughs and she says how she hopes you have a good flight and she walks away but then you run into her again at the Starbucks. She: Tall coffee, cream, Sugar In The Raw to taste. You: doppio espresso, little bit of steamed milk, regular sugar. She's from Nashville for some reason. "Oh, I'm from the South, too...Atlanta," you say. Of course she loves Atlanta. Here's where you start thinking - What's in Nashville? Maybe I'll have a reason to go to Nashville. Young Buck, Graceland? Anyway, you could do Nashville. Didn't you drive through there on the way to _____ that one time? Maybe.

So she asks who you play for - she couldn't help notice all the other tall guys loitering around. You make sure to put "NBA" before "D-League," real official-like (so she'll have a frame of reference). You're flying through CA and are headed to NV and it's alot of travel and gets tiring and all but it's good to do something you love and and although you hate living out of a suitcase you're glad to get the opportunity to travel to a lot of cool places. (You don't mention the Dakotas, but really, who does?) So then naturally you ask why she's in L.A. and then this happens.

I've been here nine months or so.

(Ok, starving artist? Struggling actress? Waiting for that call-back?)

I actually came out here to get sober.

(Damn. You had to cross the country to kick the habit? What was that, heroin?)

Been sober eight months now.

(Yeah, good for you.)

I really think I'm moving in a positive direction. I think things are really starting to come together for me. I'm really starting to Get It.

(Damn. Really?)

Then you say goodbye and she walks away, and you notice her five minutes later walking back in the other direction, having trouble finding her gate even though there are only like 5 in the whole Southwest terminal, and you think that tattoo on her forearm that you thought was cool was probably covering up needle tracks, and you remember that you WERE in Nashville one time, and it was really wack, and that Graceland was really in Memphis the whole time, and f#$% Elvis and country music in general anyway.

Then somehow 15 more women pass by with pseudo-pants on in the next hour or so.

There's really no end to this story.

--Coleman

Boom Tho Girl 2

Rod Benson — 2009-02-25T13:36:53-08:00

If you haven’t seen “Boom Tho Girl,” then I suggest you click the “Videos” tab at the top of the screen and give it a look, among with the other Boom Tho videos.

This aint about those, though. This is about “Boom Tho Girl 2.” So, take a look at my latest project, and tell me what you think.

LOLBoom 4

Rod Benson — 2009-02-10T11:52:35-08:00

Ask Boom Tho

Rod Benson — 2009-02-11T15:54:16-08:00

So, I got this email from the other day from a guy who wanted some advice. I figured I’d answer it for everyone...

Subject: Failed Boom Tho Girl

Message: So, Rod benson, there was this one chick, definite Boom Tho girl material. Gorgeous, tall, skinny blonde, 2nd in her graduating class at her large private school, and headed for Vanderbilt next year.

I met her at some party, where she saw me running the beer pong table, and was pretty much craving my keystone-splashing jumpers all night.

We started talking, it turned into something more, and I ended up stealing her from her boyfriend... I know, I know what you're thinking "damn kid, you must be a beast!"... That is what I thought too! But that is not the case it would seem.

After we dated for about three weeks, it became evident that my mustache, and the fact that I drfopped out of high school were angering her. Mind you, this is no Adam Morrisson mustache, think more of a Magnum PI mustache. And I have my GED, so don't know what the big deal is... Her and her ex boyfriend were hanging out regularly, and of course he was scheming to put his stalagmite back in her cave, but for some reason, she still thought that he just wanted to be friends. Everytime I did something wrong, there he was to swoop back in.

NOW, all of a sudden, the girl breaks up with me and is back in love with her scrawny (6'3, 148 pound) ex boyfriend who does nothing but make her cry most of the time.

I thought she was Boom Tho Girl material, should I cut her now? Or keep her on the roster and try to get the unused potential out of her?

Colin

Colin,

the girl definitely sounds very solid. She likes Beirut (Commonly mislabeled “beer pong.” Beer pong uses a paddle.), she’s tall and hot and everything you seem to be looking for, but, alas, you’ve hit quite a snag and there are obvious reasons for this.

First of all, don’t blame the ‘stache. You kiddin’ me? Baseball players rock the dirty ‘stache all day and pull girls like Erin Andrews. Adam Morrison may even pull a solid amount of breezy’s. You never know.

Now let’s check out some of the other things you told me about her:

Going to Vandy next year.

You swooped in on her and stole her from her B.F.

Tall skinny Blonde.

To me, these three things tell your whole tale, son. Clearly you are going after a girl who is still in high school. Although being in high school doesn’t mean much isn’t much, it does mean she has more peer pressure. A girl who is still in high school will look at you differently for dropping out because her friends will hate on you. Friends hating is the #2 killer of men trying to get at women. #1 is another man hating.

Which brings me to my next point. You stole her from her boyfriend. That situation is always a shady one. Yea, you’re a boss for the move, but that means that the girl is open to that sort of thing and always looking for the next best thing.You time appeared to last a solid few weeks. Now, she’s realized whatever about you that doesnt like so she moves on. If it wasn’t him, it’d be someone else. Maybe one of my Boom Tho brothers somewhere would have swooped and made his move. Thing is, they realize that you can’t wife up a swoop. 112 has a song that goes “she got with you when she already had a man, why wouldn’t she cheat on you?” Words to live by, brotha.

Lastly, you said she was a gorgeous, tall, skinny, smart blonde. This may be your main problem, son. You met her, she was feelin you, and you almost immediately fell for her. You stole her away from her boyfriend, who you knew made her cry. You showed her another side that you probly don’t show all women. You gave her the side that would NEVER make her cry, and it worked for a short time. You were so impressed with her that you did all of these things and it worked -- for a short time.

The problem is that she’s gorgeous, tall, skinny, smart, and blonde. That means that 99% of men who meet her treat her that way. She enjoys it, but loses interest in those guys, eventually, because she’s a hot girl. Her current man makes her cry, which she hates, but he doesn’t treat her TOO well, either, which she loves. Watch “My Best Friends Girl.” You’re dusty, the other guy is Dane Cook. Ridiculously hot girls need to grow into a point where they are ready for a nice guy. They get too much smothering all the time to just buy in, especially before college.

Anyway, my final judgement is: cut the cord. Don’t steal girlfriends cuz it will come back later, and don’t be TOO nice, too early. Stay mad boom tho and do what you do, playa!

--Too Much

Got a question for Boom Tho? Hit me up

LOLBoom 3

Rod Benson — 2009-02-05T12:43:52-08:00

The New Boom

Rod Benson — 2009-02-02T22:38:06-08:00

In the next month, I’ll be dropping my first set of videos for 2009. Starting with “Boom Tho Girl 2,” I’ll then do my Dance Off video and “The Rockumentary 2,” among others. In these videos I’ll be wearing the new shirts featuring new designs that I feel are ridiculously boom tho. They’re all on the “Gear” page, but I’ll post them here too so you can see.

Keep rockin the movement!

The detail for the above shirt:

5 votes

I Came Back to North Dakota and Craziness Came Back Into My Life

Rod Benson — 2009-02-02T20:33:25-08:00

I’ve been back up in North Dakota for quite some time and I didn’t think I’d get a lot of great blog material out of this place so quickly, but I did. I’ve actually taken many photo’s that help me to tell the stories, all except for one. So, here goes, the stories you can only get in Bismarck, North Dakota...

Oh yea, you can check out the old Dakota posts here.

There is no story to go along with the following photo’s, but you need to know how cold it was. It was somethin like 40 or 50 below. To tell the truth, anything below 10 feels like life as you know it will soon come to an end. I have no clue why anyone says there’s global warming when Dakota has their coldest, snowiest winter ever so far.

I hadn’t been to Buck’s in nearly 9 months, so I headed over there on a random Monday night. The place was empty, except for maybe 4 or 5 people, excluding myself and my two teammates. It sure as hell didn’t stop us from C-Walking, Cha Cha Sliding, and Cupid Shuffling. It didn’t stop us from playing Black Jack and it certainly didn’t stop us from getting handed a Hilary Clinton mask by the D.J. and wearing it the whole time:

Teammate in the mask, an old boom tho shirt, and two balloons under his shirt.

Hilary Clinton must be mad boom tho. She must be.

Then there was after Saturday’s game againts the Ft. Wayne Mad Ants. My boy Coleman Collins, his teammate Sean Sonderleiter, and I went to a bar called Stadium because I informed them that there was a Jukebox for the music and a table for the blackjack.

I won about $170 (baller, I know), then left the table about 10 minutes before the bar closed (at 1, grr). I walked over to talk to our game time P.A., Scott Woodmansee. He happened to be near a table that had a woman wearing a little white vest. I thought it’d be funny to put the vest on for a second since it was so small. I traded her for my sweatshirt and wore the white vest around for a couple minutes just to be funny.

When it was time to head out, we couldn’t get a taxi together so we had to scrap a ride. We found out that the white vest woman could give us a ride, so we headed out to the car. What we didn’t know was that she was there with her daughter, her daughters friend, and her daughters friend’s husband. Now we had to fit three 6’9”-6’10” guys in a car with 4 other people. It was a five seat SUV type thing so Sean sat in the trunk area, while Coleman, the Daughter and her friend, and I sat in the back, and the mother in the passenger seat while the husband drove. Oh yea, we found out that the mother was the mother at this point when she started arguing with the daughter. I had no clue because she was only 38 years old and the daughter was 22. This age dynamic would play a role very soon.

So all of us ballers thought we were going right to the Days Inn to drop the Mad Ants off, but we started taking some odd turns that I know weren’t quite the right way. I asked the driver out loud where we were going, because the Days Inn was the other way. The mother answered.

“We’re going to pick up Tyler first,” she said.

I think everyone in the car knew that there was nowhere for anyone else to fit in that bad boy. I was starting to suspect that she may have been a little drunk. Her daughter interrupted my thought process.

“We are NOT picking up Tyler mom. I tired of you f*$%king doing this $#!t!”

Coleman and I looked at each other like, “oh man, what have we gotten ourselves into?”

The mother and the daughter got into a heated argument that lasted nearly ten minutes. Finally, we pulled into an empty, snow covered parking lot. The mom hopped out and began yelling out Tyler’s name. This is the reason I remember his name and nobody else’s, because I heard this woman scream it out into the snowy distance for the next 15 minutes, occasionally turning back to the car to yell and argue with her daughter.

The mother gave up the Tyler search and got back into the car. That’s when some vital information came out.

“Mom, you’re such a bitch! You always want to f*&R^king hit on my friends, but Tyler is MY boyfriend, not yours!” the daughter yelled.

The truth was finally out, Tyler was daughters man, but Mom was making the move to find him. All of this happening while we sit, crammed in the back of some tiny car, waiting to get home.

The driver then told everyone that he knew where Tyler was. We started driving somewhere else -- not to the Days Inn. We stopped somewhere else and the mom got on the phone with Tyler, then hopped out. The daughter yelled out that Tyler couldn’t even fit in the car. The mom then yelled back: “He can sit on my lap, bitch!”

The daughter was oh so mad.

After a few minutes, mom came waltzing back with Tyler. Tyler was clearly drunk and stumbly and walked right up to the back right door, the door I was sitting next to. He flung open the door, looked at me and said “Who the f*&k is this? Get the f^%k out of the car! Who the f^%k are you?”

I calmly stepped out and took a step towards him. I towered over him and I think he assumed I was some short little punk he could say anything to, but that was not the case. He immediately began to apologize. He took his seat -- on top of mom’s lap -- and I got back into my seat, and we drove to the Days Inn. Finally.

After some more arguing, I ended up back at my apartment. Night over.

The next day was Super Bowl Sunday. Coleman and I went to Buffalo Wild Wings to see the game, eat some food, and chill. Here I am with my sooper dooper three dee glasses on:

After the game was over, we were sitting at the bar chillin, finishing our meals, when the bartender point to some guy in the walkway.

“He’s not being serious right now, right?”

I looked over. The guy stumbled left, then half stumbled right, then caught himself, then stumbled again.

I turned back to the bartender.

“Yea, I think he’s being for real. He’s just that drunk.”

See, I don’t know what it is about this place that makes people want to drink until they have an irregular heartbeat, but it’s got to be something in the air -- something that has yet to hit me.

We laughed at the guy and how he walked over to this table of women behind me. He had no balance or motor skills so he leaned all his weight onto their table. He was standing so funny due to his lack of balance. He was on his toes, but he was standing like he was on his heels. He looked like a flamingo with cerebral palsy.

I got back to Coleman and to talking with him and the people around me when all of sudden the bartender’s face turned pale. Her eyes grew big and her mouth opened. She almost stuttered but instead the words came right out.

“OMG He just pissed himself!”

I turned around and looked at him. I noticed what she did. There was a small wet spot around the zipper of his jeans. In real-time I watched it grow and grow and grow. Then I watched it go down his right leg slowly until it stopped around his knee. He had no clue. I then whipped out my BlackBerry, handed it to the bartender, and had her take a photo:

First, notice the guys right leg. There is clearly a wet spot. Next, notice the blonde next to him who is grossed out and trying to control her laughter. Now, notice his friend, who also has no clue about the urine. Last, notice me, thumbs up baby! Mad boom tho!

I must say, it’s good to be back in town! I’m here til mid-April. Who knows what will happen next?

LOLBoom 2

Rod Benson — 2009-02-02T20:25:46-08:00

I would have preferred that the last one said “still not bigger than boom tho.”

Clay's LOLBoom

Rod Benson — 2009-01-28T00:22:50-08:00

Clay knows about a lot more “I’m bored at work, what do I do now?” sites than I do. One day he told me about something called “LOLCat.” Basically they just put captions on funny photo’s of cats and people love it.

So, Clay decided he could do the same with popular photos here on TMRB. The difference being that he would have a boom tho related caption on his photos. He decided to call it “LOLBoom.”

He’s gonna update this a few times a week, if not more, so check back. Here’s the first couple:

I Don't do "Dress Code"

Rod Benson — 2009-01-23T17:16:40-08:00

The day of the Emerald Bowl, Cal’s bowl game against Miami, all of my friends and I had grand plans for the day. We were going to wake up early, buy our tickets, support the bears, etc. The game started at 5pm so we figured we would head down to Momo’s at around noon to meet up with Prelle, Conor, and Chase for a full afternoon of tailgating.

At around 3PM, I finally made it over to Clay’s house and he was still asleep. So much for those plans. Grabbed some food and some drinks and decided to meet up with JGant who was at Dayo’s apartment (try to keep up) which was right by Momo’s which was where the other guys had been all day.

As we got dressed to get ready to leave, Clay put on his Cal sweatshirt and some jeans and whatever, figuring that he would come back to his apt before he went out later that night. I put on my New Jersey Nets sweats (I wear em all the time), a boom tho shirt, and my trusty Stewie Griffin slippers. When Clay questioned the slippers I, under the influence of some pre-tailgating, told him that I would not, under any circumstance, go anywhere or do anything else for the rest of the night WITHOUT my Stewie Slippers. Of course he had more questions and concerns, mainly regarding our after-party choices and the dress codes that coincide. (I also had on my favorite beanie -- not dress code friendly:

)

I told Clay that I knew the risks and that I didn’t care. He then said a statement that made me believe in myself even more.

“Well,” he admitted, “if anyone can pull it off, you can.”

We hopped a cab and headed down to meet JGant. He and seven other people were inside of Dayo’s apartment, while Dayo was at the game. That still makes no sense to me.

Everyone immediately questioned the shirt, then the beanie, then the slippers. I knew it was about to be a glorious evening. The tailgate was really no tailgate at al. It was just us watching the Cal domination from Dayo’s living room.

Towards the end of the game, it was time to head to Momo’s to meet the rest of the guys. It would be the Stewie slippers’ first test. Could I get into a decent restaurant/bar dressed like a comedian who was ready for bed? We were about to find out.

I walked right up to the bouncer, who didn’t notice my slips, dapped him up, and walked in. JGant and Clay seemed a bit shocked, but it wasn’t like Momo’s had a dress code, so they rolled with it.

After a few hours there, partying it up, I spotted my boys from EA Sports. Gary wanted to go to some other bar and meet up with some people in north beach, so I left with him to head over there and party some more. I got into that bar with no issues either. It was beginning to seem like I might be able to keep this streak alive all night and party w Stewie slippers on like I had vowed to earlier that afternoon.

When Gary called it a night, it was about 10:30PM. I was out by Clayton’s house, but Clayton was at Fluid with JGant and Cedric. It was now officially time to see if I was indeed the one who could “pull it off.” What you need to understand is that everywhere I went that day, people immediately noticed the slippers and were LOVING them. So theyweren’t exactly inconspicuous. The were actually a conversation starter (and the beanie) whenever I bumped into someone I didn’t know. You also need to understand that fluid is a real club with a real dress code, a line, and MANY bouncers, who have shut me down for wearing a hat before. It was about to get interesting.

I stepped out of the cab in front of Fluid. The line was average size, but I never wait in line there anyway (Ha, trust me, I’m not big time). I usually talk to my boy Big Matt out front and he lets me right in. I didn’t see Matt that night, but I did see the other guy who claims he can dunk on me, but usually lets me right in as well.

I walk up behind a group of people who have just paid for VIP bottle service. When I say behind, I mean RIGHT behind them. I actually went up so close, that there was no way my feet could be seen. My face, however, was easily visible, and the bouncer said I was cool to go in -- as long as I took the beanie off. Deal. I loitered a bit so that I could stay amongst the group and hide my feet.

When we all got in, they went right and I went left and found my boys. Clay couldn’t believe it. Heck, I couldn’t believe it. I was wearing big, floppy, red and yellow Family Guy slippers, blue sweats with 3 stripes all the way down the side, and a boom tho shirt inside of my favorite club. There was only one thing left to do: dance.

Clay and I went on an incredible dancing tear. Due to the super long “pre-party,” the whole thing is a little fuzzy in my mind, but the memory of fun remains very clear. Like all good things, however, it had to come to an end.

Clay told me that someone was hating, but I couldn’t see who, and I didn’t care. I was enjoying myself too much. All of a sudden, a VIP hostess and a bouncer were all up in my grill. My night in fluid was done. I had no regrets. It was my time to leave. Clay came right on with me as we re-grouped and made plans about our next spot. We would see the VIP hostess again a few days later at the Starlight Room and she informed us that the guys in her section got angry when they saw my slippers, because one of their boys wasn’t allowed in due to his faulty shoe game. Fair enough I guess.

We decided to head over to the marina and try our luck there. The marina is a place where there are a lot of bars without specific dress code rules, so we figured we would be alright. We headed over to Circa, which wasn’t the smartest move because they have a dress code and multiple bouncers outside. The line was also very, very long. The only reason we went is because I had some very strong persuasion by a member of the opposite sex.

So here we are, standing outside trying to strategize a way inside without waiting in line and without allowing them to notice my slippers. After strategizing for about 15 minutes, the girls came out and talked to the bouncer. Clutch play. We got right in, but with the condition that I had to take the beanie off again. Grrr. Still, there was no mention of the slippers, so once again there was a slippers, so I was still batting 1,000 for the night.

Clay and I kept dancing until it was time to go. If there was one downside about wearing the slippers it was that people kept wanting to step on them to see how puffy they were, or kick Stewie in the face, or put their high heels in his eye. I don’t understand what prompted that response, but I assume it was 75% alcohol related and 25% not knowing how to react to seeing someone wear those out on a random Saturday night.

Regardless, I had done the seemingly impossible. I had worn an outfit completely against all dress code rules from 3PM until 3AM. 12 hours of strict boom-tho-ness. I guess it’s true, if anyone could pull it off, it would be me.

Don't Urinate on the Stock Room Floor!

Rod Benson — 2009-01-13T20:00:08-08:00

On the Monday before Christmas, I was in San Francisco chillin with my boy Clay. He wanted to go check out a bar in the Marina called “Gravity.” So, I rolled with him down the this bar and it had a huge line that the bouncers were holding (effin bouncers holding effin lines). I hate when that happens, so I suggested we go next door to Jones and wait there until the line died down or until they started letting people in.

We walked into Jones and sat down and there was just the bartender and a couple of girls at the bar. Clay’s a lightweight, so it didnt take much more than a couple Patron shots and a mixed drink to get him feeling frisky right off the bat.

We were enjoying ourselves and our impromptu pre-party when a group of five young women walked in and sat at the bar also. Now it’s me, Clay, and seven women at this bar. That’s when the fun started.

Clay has a BIG thing for Asian women and one of the girls just happened to be Asian, so he was zoned in. I started watching Clay, who was staring down the Asian girl, who was too drunk to comprehend anything at all.

To be honest, her whole crew was RIDICULOUSLY drunk. I couldn’t tell immediately, but Clay must have had his drunk-dar on high reception, because he seemed to hone in on the group and their actions. He was watching as they climbed over the bar and made their own drinks. He was watching when they fell out of their stools and chairs, laughing the way that drunk college girls tend to laugh when even they realize how drunk they are.

All of a sudden, Clay made his move. He yelled out, to all seven women at once: “who wants to do body shots?!”

I, personally, thought he was being ridiculous and that they would call both of us creepers since we were the only two men in there. Instead they started cheering. Clay started to unbutton his shirt as he stood up. I couldn’t believe it was really going to go down like this. In fact, all the girls were cheering on the Asian girl to let Clay take the body shots off of her. She was a little hesitant though and took her sweet time deciding if she wanted to go through with it. All the while, Clay was looking around, shirt unbuttoned, asking people “so, are we gonna do this or what?”

After about ten minutes of what basically amounted to the girl getting even more drunk, drunk enough to have no control over her decisions, she agreed to let Clayton take his body shot. With all her girls cheering, she laid down on the bar. Clay was handed a cup full of Patron (yea, a cup, not a shot) from which he then poured a small amount onto her stomach. He leaned in and hit the shot. Someone then shouted “do another one,” so he did. The girl didn’t move or seem to care, so he went on to do six more. The whole scene was pretty ridiculous.

Clay sat back down next to me (I hadn’t moved) and let the alcohol sit it. He was now drunk. The girls were still doing shots and getting more drunk. I was laughing at everyone and everything because it was quite funny. Seriously, the girl to my left started singing “Silent Night.” Like REALLY singing it like she was in the choir. The girl to her left started talking to Clay. Although I didn’t catch much, I did catch a phone number exchange and I SWEAR she said (cover your eyes if you don’t like Rated R): “c*m on my face!” I still have no clue as to why. I was the only sober person in the building besides the bartender.

All of a sudden, Clay gets down on the ground and starts ding push-ups. I gave him a look that said: “you gotta be kidding me,” but it was pretty funny. It got funnier when all the girls got down on the floor and they had a push-up contest. I guess alcohol gave them all extra chest muscle or something, because the all did upwards of 30 push-ups each.

They were still debating who did the most push-ups when somebody yelled out “hey! Everybody get the f*^k out! Bar’s closed!”

It was the bartender, and he had the asian girl thrown over his shoulder like a wet beach towel. I didn’t even notice she was gone from her friends who were doing push ups and arguing for the past 20 minutes. Everyone then turns and looks at the bartender, who is livid.

“Everyone’s got to go, I caught this girl, pants down, pissing on my stock room floor. Get her out of here and go home.”

Her pants did look like she may have missed the floor a little bit. That’s when Clay and I took our cues and left. Clay tried Facebooking all of the girls before he went to bed, but as far as I know, none of them have accepted. Cold blooded. He’ll always have his body shots though

My Blessings

Rod Benson — 2009-01-13T19:59:45-08:00

The other day I got an e-mail that made me laugh out loud. I get a lot of boom tho related e-mail, and 99.99% of it is really cool, great stuff from good people. Then I got this:

Your Name: alex blakeney

Your Email: alexblakeney@yahoo.com

Subject: give it up

Message: give it up Rod. you are not that good. you should have stayed in europe. how much do you want to bet that you never make it to the NBA this year? $50, $100, $500, $1000? you got no game

I got this while I was at the D-League showcase and I was surrounded by other ballers and officials. We laughed, hard, then they told me that I had to respond, so I did:

Alex,

Thanks for your constructive input. I will strongly consider the questions posed.

Keep supporting the movement!

Rod

I went on about my day.

The next day, I got another response:

face it, you had one good year at Cal, the other 3 were sub par at best. I guess it is hard for me to see an otherwise mulit- talented individual waste good years on pursuing something that is not feasible. sorry bro, sometimes you need to let the dream go and get on with your life.

I was once again surrounded by other players, including my boy (and soon to be blogging here on TMRB) Coleman Collins who said this guy was ridiculous, a hater, and stupid. To quote Coleman:

“What does this guy think you’re gonna just go quit basketball today because he sent you this message? What does he expect to come out of this? Idiot.”

Coleman is a smart guy who has a point, but the e-mail did kind of get me to thinking. See, as cool as it would be to get called up this season, I’ve been here before and I haven’t. So what if I don’t? Did I waste my time? The answer, clearly, is no. Here’s why:

-- I spent 4 months in France and made more tax free money than every one of my friends, and most of the American public.

-- I haven’t payed rent since college.

-- I work for a few hours a day and spend the rest being creative.

-- I get to travel the country, and the globe, and get paid to do it.

-- My job is FUN.

-- I can go back to Europe in a heartbeat and make big money for the rest of my days. I made enough this year to where I feel comfortable chillin for a bit.

Those, among other reasons clearly indicate that playing hoops, at any level, is one of the best jobs there is. I’ll bet $50, $100, $500 on that! I, and every person I play with, am blessed to be able bodied and skilled enough to do it. So, I actually thank Mr. Blakeney for helping me to remind me of why I do it. 2009 is gonna be huge, I can feel it! In other words: “my horn can pierce the sky!”

LMFAO Gets Groupies!

Rod Benson — 2009-01-10T12:13:46-08:00

I’ve been away from the court for the better part of the last month, but it clearly led me to really enjoy myself. I basically had a winter vacation for the first time since I was a high school freshman. One of my first orders of business was to get out and party with my boys, because I never get to do that outside of a couple summer months.

I was loungin at Clay’s apartment, trying to figure out our plans for the night, when we were told that LMFAO would be performing at one of my favorite spots, FLUID Ultralounge. We looked up LMFAO on MySpace music to see if we knew any of their songs and, sure enough, I had heard a couple of them before. I really like their song called “I am not a whore.” Thats some quality electronic hip hop right there. They also sing “I’m in Miami, bitch.”

So we cabbed it over to Fluid later that night to catch the performance and to get our dance party on.

When we got there I realized that the crowd was about 70% women and that they were dressed like it was a sexy halloween party:

Maybe that should have been an indicator of the extreme groupie-ism that was about to transpire, but I just considered it to be a good ratio. Then the group started performing and every woman in there went buck-wild.

I just don’t understand why the girls go crazy like that? They had a fat guy walk around the club and invite girls backstage for little rendezvous all night. They pulled their pants down and grinded on hella women. They pulled tops down and signed bare boobies. They made out with half the women WHILE PERFORMING. The funniest part is that their song is called “I AM NOT A WHORE!”

Look at Exhibit A above. Girl on right has the two handed wrap-hug/smile-for-the-camera pose going on. Girl on left has completely neglected the camera, because she has floppy tongue in her mouth. She completely ignores the fact that this picture is on NapkinNights.com and can be seen by the entire world. Afro-headed LMFAO member in the middle has his pants down, Carolina blue tight boxers, his tongue out, his sunglass lenses in the garbage and his eyes closed. I swear this photo was taken while he was on stage performing.

In the spirit of not hating, I think this is a signal that I need to hold special live performances for “Boom Got Them Three.” If LMFAO is any indication of how these small concerts go, I should be pants down, tongue out, eyes closed be the start of my second verse.

My Horn Can Pierce the Sky!

Rod Benson — 2008-12-12T11:58:37-08:00

There’s a place in France
Where the naked ladies dance

There’s a hole in the wall
Where you can see it all

Just kidding, kind of, I didn’t see
The hole in the wall was too short for me

But I didn’t come here for the trouble
I came to get the double doubles

Alas, that chance for me never came
I sat on the bench the entire game!

The reason? No reason, just haterism
So I partook in some grand tourism

Barcelona and Florence, I saw it all
But I would have preferred to see the ball

Think of me just like you would Vinny Chase
On the set of Smoke Jumpers, such a disgrace

But While I was there I got a lot done
I ate fois gros and drank wine with my man Julian

I dominated the Nancy Mario Kart Circuit
And saw TJ Parker get a $22K haircut

I brought all the hype and none of the drama
And I screwed Sarah Palin -- by voting OBAMA

So now I must go to another place
I’ll do like the Joker and put a smile on your face

Them hold me down? Id like to see em try
But don’t forget, my horn can pierce the sky!

A Blackberry, Paris, a Train, a Taxi, and a Faulty Card That Nearly Led to my Demise.

Rod Benson — 2008-12-08T14:53:19-08:00

Before you hear this story, you need to understand that I bought a Blackberry Storm here in France about a week ago. I got it here so that I could use my ATT card in it and get 3G speeds. It has been a bit of a process to get it unlocked though and, after searching all week, I discovered a place in Paris that could unlock it effortlessly. Today I had a day off and attempted to get this done. This is my story.

[It was written as an AIM message originally so disregard the grammar and formatting]

So I woke up at like 1230 or 1 today, mapquested the two places that were sposed to be able to handle my phone, found the closer one and wrote the address down
I got in the taxi, and showed him the place
1 was a perfect time because my train back to Nancy was leaving at 4
I get to the phone place at about 130
the guy there said something like "5 hours"
either he meant come back at 5 or that it would be ready at 630
either way, I was going to have to get a new train and find something to do for 5 hours
So I went to lunch at Hippo which is like a TGIFridays style place
got my lunch and tried to pay
my card didnt work
my effin ffrench card has a weird 30-day spending limit
so it just works basically when it feels like it because I bought clothes online
So there was a very embarrassing situation in the restuarant
and they couldnt understand me anyways
We basically just ran the card 6 times and on time 6 it worked
but I tried to go to an ATM afterward and I was NOT able to take out any money
at all
and I had no cash
and the phone would cost 60Euro for the unlock anyways

so I was kind of panicking and I had to catch Taxis all over to get back anyways
So, after 5 hours sitting in a hotel lobby, I got in a taxi, figuring that the card would probably work at an ATM now and I had to pick up the phone and get to the train station
so we drive up to the Phone place which is on an VERY busy street
the cab driver speaks NO english whatsoever and I'm trying to tell him to wait outside for me while I run in and grab the phone
I am debating wether or not to take my bag inside with me, but I decide against it because I want him to know that Im serious about coming back out
when I get into the phone place the guy tells me to hold on for like 5 min
so I go back outside, check on the taxi, hes chillin, and I go to the bank next door to try to take out money
NO DICE
I cant pay for the phone ANYWAY
I got back into the phoen store and the guy tells me that they need to hold my phone for 3 days
and Im like nope cant do it cuz I live in Nancy
plsu I cant pay regardless
I grab the phone and go back outside
TAXI IS GONE

out of panic, and knowing that my laptop is in the bag, I just take off running towards where some taxis are up the street
after like 3 steps, EVERYTHING in my pockets falls out
including the brand new phone

SCRATCHED

I have to spend like 1 minute and a half collecting my things
I didnt realize how much sh** was in my pockets
3 phones
ipod
hella change
and I NEEDED that change
once I collect it all, the taxi driver pulls up
I guess he had to move cuz of a bus
finally a break
get in the taxi and head to the train station
but the bill is like 20 euro and I have like 8
in 50 cent coins
so I propose we go by a bank so I can try to take out just 20 euro
thinking that would worrk
we go to the bank and NO DICE
no money
I tell him that I DID get the money out and to drive back to the train station
on the way I scour my bag and my clothes from the night before
there just happens to be 25 euros in my jeans pocket
my tab was 24
I get out of the taxi with like 14 mintues to go until the last train leaves to come back to Nancy
but I have to change my ticket so I am hustling
i spend 5 minutes just trying to find the ticket office cuz all i see are automated things
I finally find it, go to the counter and start searching my pockets
for a ticket that ISNT TEHRE
lost
somewhere in the mayhem
the guy says that he CAN NOT give me a new one
I have to buy it
So I walk to the corner and just sit down
like no way am I going to be stuck in this trian station overnight cuz I cant go ANYWHERE
I decide to give my card a try in one of the automated things
IT WORKS
50Euro
wtf
get my ticket with NOT EVEN A MINUTE to spare
and sprint to my train
make it home
the end

Stalker Update or Why I Can't be Facebook Friends with French People Anymore

Rod Benson — 2008-12-08T14:28:56-08:00

So, first of all, the stalker is running around telling people that we talk all the time. Still! From what I was told, she has been chatting with “me” on MSN messenger, even after I made it clear to her and every other person of interest that I DO NOT use MSN messenger. I took her OFF my Facebook friends and told her to check herself.

Well, apparently that didn’t work because she has also told people that I asked her to meet me in Barcelona and I that I waved to her in the stands because she REALLY WENT DOWN TO BARCA FOR THE GAME!

Besides just her, I’ve been told that the French fans take pictures from my Facebook profile and paste them into various other sites. Sometimes with negative comments, sometimes without, but always party pictures or pictures from my day off. Maybe my days of putting up photo’s should come to an end anyway, or maybe I should finally stop adding anybody who wants to be my friend. JGant has been monitoring his FB pics for a long time now because his job checks it. I guess, as a professional, it’s time I did the same.

What do you think?

It's So Cold!

Rod Benson — 2008-12-08T14:26:18-08:00

There isn’t much point to this post, other than the fact that this is the most serious music video I’ve ever seen that I CAN NOT stop laughing at. It has some abrasive language, so, just a warning. I also dont quite understand why it has close to A MILLION VIEWS! You tell me:

I Have a Real Life Stalker (Finally)

Rod Benson — 2008-11-14T10:09:42-08:00

---the names have been changed to protect myself---

During my second week here in France (early September), I logged onto Facebook and did my normal add-friends-poke-back-wall-post deal as usual. Unlike MySpace, I never really check who I’m adding, I just do. The ‘book is just not as crazy as MySpace so I don’t find the need for background checks.

Well, maybe that time has come, because just when I thought Mark Zuckerberg had made it safe to Facebook, I got a message from “Julie” on Facebook messenger:

“Welcome to Nancy! I am excited that you are here.”

“Thanks,” I answered.

“I am friends with your teammate. I saw your practice today.”

“Have I met you before?” I asked.

“No. Just saying hi,” she replied.

Like most random people who hit me up on FB Messenger, she just wanted to say hi. I was fine with that.

A few days later, she hit me up again.

“How are you?”

“I’m cool,” I answered.

“I miss you,” she said.

“Wait, what? I don’t even know you. I’ve never met you before.”

The whole “I miss you” thing

“Why are you being mean? O.K. then. Goodbye,” she wrote.

The next day at practice I told my teammates about the whole interaction. Naturally, they asked how she looked. I tried to help them focus on the point of the matter. She had never met me and she missed me. That pretty much negates everything else anyway.

So a few days later, I was with my man Lamayn at a local club and she showed up. I felt kinda bad about what I last said to her and since this was our first meeting, I apologized, but told her that it’s not normal for someone to miss someone they had never met.

The next day she hit me up on FB Messenger again.

“So are we still on for Friday?”

“What do you mean are we still on?” I asked her.

“You told me we would get together on Friday.”

“No, I didn’t. I said one sentence to you. I never said anything about that.”

“Why do you change your mind?”

“I DIDNT TELL YOU THAT SO MY MIND NEVER CHANGED.”

“Then when you are ready to spend time with me let me know,” she said.

Then an hour later:

“You can just tell me if you want to hang out with me or not,” she said.

I wasn’t near my computer so it went unanswered.

“Fine. I guess I have my answer,” she wrote.

A week later she sent me a message about how she doesn’t want me to leave the team and that she read in the local paper that I could be leaving soon. I disregarded it.

Fast forward to November 8th.

I had just gotten back home from a road trip to Cholet. It was 1:15 AM and I was about to leave my spot to go to Lamayns to pick him up and hit the club.

As I walked out of front of my apartment building, there was “Julie” at the call box.

“Who are you here to see?” I asked, befuddled.

“Don’t do this to me,” she said.

“Don’t do what? You’re clearly not here to see me.”

“Please don’t do this, not again. You know I’m here to see you.”

“Are you serious right now? I didn’t invite you here. Don’t do what to you?”

“You told me to come over.”

“No, I didn’t. I’m clearly leaving. It’s 1:20 in the morning. I’m going downtown. I was supposed to meet up with Lamayn 5 minutes ago,” I informed her.

She started getting teary eyed and I felt a little bad.

“Where, when, how did I tell you to meet me here right now?” I asked her.

“We spoke on MSN,” she answered.

“Well, I don’t have MSN. People in the US use AIM. MSN is for Frenchy’s. Everyone knows that I don’t have MSN. If thats true, what’s my screen name?”

“It’s Boom Tho,” she mumbled.

“I mean, that appears to be a good guess, but I don’t have MSN so someone is playing a joke on you or you’re lying.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said. “I think you’re lying to me.”

“YOU don’t believe ME?” I nearly yelled out. “O.K. I’ll prove it to you.”

It was nearing 1:30 now, but I didn’t care. I ran upstairs and grabbed my laptop. I brought it back down and proceeded to scroll through all my apps. MSN was nowhere to be found. I then took the laptop back upstairs and came back down. She was teary eyed again.

Maybe she thought I was going to invite her up or something but that was the furthest thought from my mind. I was late for party time with Lamayn.

“So there you have it. Sorry to tell you, but either you’re being pranked, or you’re lying to me. Either way, I have to go.”

I got in my car and left and had a great time that night. I ended our Facebook friendship (first time I’ve ever ended a FB friendship) and I haven’t heard from her since.

The End.

Bill Adler Photoshoot

Rod Benson — 2008-11-02T16:26:45-08:00

Before I left the U.S., I travelled up to Eugene, Oregon to help my buddy Sam out. He works for Bill Adler Leather, and they make high fashion belts that are sold in trendy boutiques all over.

Anyway, his Idea was to have belts be used in interesting/funny/fantastic ways. There’s not much of a story here, but i think the photo’s are funny. The first few are the ones that were actually used, after that are the ones I just think are awesome. You may recognize many of them from Boom Got Them 3.

Boom Got Them DOS!

Avi is Nuts (another example of a crazy Euro)

Rod Benson — 2008-11-02T16:12:55-08:00

If you don’t know who Avi is, then you should go back and read “Naggin in Iceland.” Its a great little tale about his first year in Iceland. Anyway, now this is a short little iChat he sent me:

Avi: some guy that lives abouve came down to tell me they were doin construction but he spole little english so he tryin to tell and im thinking what the f*ck is this dude saying

Avi: anywyas we finally figure each other out after about an hour and he tries to make small talk and asks me where im from

Avi:and before i could say the usa he shouts out AFRICA

Avi: DEAD SERIOUS TOO

Me: hahahaha

Avi: I WAS STANDING THERE LIKE IS AVI FOGEL GONNA HAVE TO SMACK A BIOTCH

Avi: couldnt belive it man

Me:
HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA
HAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA

Avi: hahahaha i know man

Avi doen’t feel comfortable in his apartment anymore I guess. I wouldn’t either. It’s OK dawg, I got your back.

Funny MySpace Messages 10

Rod Benson — 2008-10-15T05:34:17-07:00

{Go back and check out installments 1-9 if you haven’t already}

It’s been quite a while since the last “Funny MySpace Messages” dropped, but that’s ok. I think you’ll find the same craziness here that you’re accustomed to finding in my MySpace inbox. In addition to my messages, I’ve got a couple of Clay’s and a even one of Prelle’s. Let’s do it.

I’ll start if off with a girl who was featured in the last installment. She, like so many others, just would NOT STOP with the messages. I just don’t understand why a person would keep sending messages over months and months. Well, “Irene a.k.a. ‘sex big mommy’” and I don’t see eye to eye on this because, in addition to the messages she sent me before, she sent me these as well:

No Subject
Body:
hello sup with you??

Then, 2 months later:

Subject:
No Subject
Body:
hello . . .

How many times can you say hello before someone wants to gag your face (see “Forgetting Sarah Marshall”)? The lack of interest on my part is clear. There is no answer, therefore there should be no more questions. It aint hard to see why:

Her makeup container is empty for a reason... it’s all on her FACE.

Anyway, the sexy big mommy was a little too much big mommy for me, but I do commend her for using an appropriate display name. One that described her as well as she believed it could. The next girl had a display name that I had to laugh at.

Meet “WARNING- U COULD FALL INLOVE”:

Hahaha no way did I read that name, then see this picture, then laugh so hard that tears came rolling down my face. I guess the laughter wasn’t all about the picture above,

or this picture,

or this picture.

It was a combination of all of that and the message I got:

Jun 24 2008 2:10 PM

whuts gd sweety....stoppin throu showin sum sexy luv wit chocolate over it....hope u return it

I had never been offered “sexy luv wit chocolate over it” before, but ,upon receiving my first taste, I realized that I COULD fall in love...

PSYCH!

Then there was “Nay Nay.”

“Nay Nay” sent me this:

Subject: Yo daddy
Body:
Can I be in your tops
The queen bitch

This is “Nay Nay”:

I’m just going to ask a series of questions and you can do your best to answer, because I have no clue.

1. Is she the queen of the Bitches?
2. What is she wearing, a sheet?
3. Does she have on matching socks?
4. Is she even a she?
5. What are these poses all about?
6. Seriously, these poses are kind of scary, right?
7. Who took these pictures?
8. Did the person who took the pictures approve of such poses?
9. A random cable cord??
10. What is this room? I’d guess laundry, but its too skinny. Seriously, the cable cord throws me way off.
11. Mop?

Thanks for your help.

I’ll take this time to showcase some of Clay’s strange MySpace stalkers. These people must not know that Clay is not a contender to win the “Dance Off,” because they love him... Especially the males. Like DL DUDE:

He sent some simple message that I can no longer find, but it was definitely of the “hollar” variety. Then I found this on his “About Me”:

Wuz good myspace...um im really 17, I'M A BOTTOM..n im reall bullsh*t intolerant...i dont f*cc wit fakez...cuz im not...iText™...get at me for the number..my real page..or anything else

Clay gets hit on by underage men more than any 24 year old straight man on earth not wearing a dress in the Castro. He’s not homophobic, and neither am I, but we just can’t figure it out. Well, I think Clay may have had a heart attack when he saw the message from “LET IT RAIN ON ME”:

From: LET IT RAIN ON ME
Date: Sep 13, 2008 7:49 PM

yo wats gud thankx 4 da add u sexy ass hell ill let u hite it from da back and in any way u wnt it dats how sexy u are

I was drinking water while reading that message for the first time. I clearly had a gag reaction and spit all the water out of my mouth, barely dodging my laptop screen but dousing the food that was on the table next to me. I don’t even think any further commentary is necessary on that one. Just wow. I don’t care if you’re gay, straight, or overweight, that’s a lot to send a stranger over the internet.

The last thing Clay forwarded to me was just a photo that someone posted as a comment of his page that he thought was weird:

I think it’s weird too, Clay. I think it’s weird too.

Back to my messages. I got a male message too, although it had nothing to do with a sexual advance. It was from “Mattney.” He actually felt so compelled to say it that he posted the same comment TWICE.

"you is a fake ass gilbert arenas you dont even play in the nba...."

Oh man here we go again. It’s like how stupid do you have to be, guy? You come to my page, click on my photos, find a D-League photo and comment that on it? You must not have a life.

I looked at his page for a second and realized that he indeed, does not.

For starters, find a new pose, a new hat, and some new wallpaper. “You fake ass thug, you don’t even live in New York.”

This was his “About Me”:

ha namez Matthew or but i go by matt or mattney Im pretty much a chilled person and tymez i can be funny and crazy and i lyke to go to parties i also lyke hanging out with my friendz and im not fully white im mixed wit some things and god comes first in my life then my familia then my friendz cause they are wat keeps me goin everyday... my sports are track,football,and basketball,and im a junior at pearland highschool and i dislike drama so dont bring ur drama to me if u want to know more hit me wit a msg or a cmmt...

Secondly, Mr run-on-sentence, putting a Y instead of an I makes you lame. Claiming that you’re not fully white doesn’t justify the use weird abbreviations and writing on a keyboard like you’re texting you some other lame high schooler.

Lastly, if you dislike drama, don’t go on a grown man’s page, wearing that effing shirt (once again, see “Forgetting Sarah Marshall), during recess, if you REALLY have something better to do. Clearly you don’t. The end. Eat a fruit roll up and STFU.

I’ll leave you all with the first message that Prelle has sent to me. I think it’s TMRB worthy. You have to remember that Prelle was a model on the “Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency” TV show for two seasons. Therefore, he does have quite a few fans. Here is the best fan message in my opinion. It was from “Rasheen”:

HEY
Body:
HEY CHRISTIAN ...
HOW ARE U DOING???
MY NAME IS RASHEEN P****...
IM 15 YEARS OF AGE...
I'm a freshman AT NEW WORLD SCHOOL OF THE ARTS..
IN MIAMI FL.
I MAJOR IN DANCE...
I LOVE YOU AND THE JANICE DICKINSON MODELING SHOW...
I WONT TO BECOME A UNDERWEAR MODEL SOME DAY...
I WOULD LOVE TO BE YOU..
I WOULD DO ANYTHING YOU SAY...
I WOULD LOVE TO MODEL WITH YOU SOME DAY..
WHEN I GET OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL....
SO CAN YOU HELP ME WITH SOME TIPS TO BECOME A UNDERWEAR MODEL????
YOU CAN CALL ME MY NUMBER IS *** *** ****
OR YOU CAN E MAIL *****@BELLSOUTH. NET

Is this for real? Would he really do ANYTHING prelle said? Does he really want to be an underwear model at age 15? Did he really think Prelle would call him? I know he majors in dance, but do they teach English at that school too?

I guess it’s just the way an aspiring underwear model does things.

Until next time... The End.

The Dance Off: JGant's Turn

Rod Benson — 2008-10-15T05:27:46-07:00

If you haven’t checked out the first two installments of “The Dance Off,” it’s about time you did. I already know what you’re gonna say about JGant’s part though. It SUCKS. HE SUCKS. He is NOT the frontrunner by any means. With this performance, JGant has clearly left the door open for me to come in and dominate everyone.

JGants Dance Off vid from Rod Benson on Vimeo.

Peer Pressure Drinking in France

Rod Benson — 2008-09-12T14:03:13-07:00

I left my crib and headed downtown (it’s like 4 minutes from my spot). There’s one restaurant that serves Italian food that I had already been to before with my teammates. The main server speaks good english, so she understands that I like my steak medium-well and not the usual purple-red bloody meat that is served out here. The owner is also a real nice guy who hands me the remote to the flat screen so I can change the channel. It’s a good thing.

After I left there, I went to a bar to meet my teammate. He never showed up. I ended up sitting there drinking some drink that consists of Stella, Cannes (which I think is sugar), and Absinthe. I had about five of those bad boys while waiting for my teammate to show up.

Finally, I got tired of waiting and I left. On my way back to the house, I walked past a bar that the owner of the Italian restaurant happened to be seated out of of. He was with a big group of people. He called me over and asked that I partake in some drinks with them. Who was I to say no?

I sat down with the big group. I guess it was the birthday of one of his friends. The owner must be like 50 years old, and the birthday boy was 25 on that day. The whole group was already pretty drunk. He ordered three whiskey and cokes. There was one for me, one for him, and one for the birthday boy.

He handed one to the birthday boy and told him to finish it immediately. I figured the kid would just sip it kinda fast, but it was a big drink and I doubt his ability to finish it so quickly. The older guy told the birthday boy to give him his hand. I was looking confused. The other people at the table seemed to already know what was about to transpire.

The friendly restaurant owner grabbed the birthday boys hand, and pulled out his index finger. He then put the birthday boys finger in his mouth and bit it. He bit that bad boy HARD. The birthday bay threw his drink back in a heartbeat. Mann it made my head spin it was so fast. As soon as the drink was finished, old guy released birthday boys finger. He then took his own drink and gave his hand to the birthday boy. Birthday boy bit the finger of 50+ year old man.

There was only one drink left on the table. Clearly it belonged to me and everyone looked at me like I had been informed of the rules, now it was time to play the game. I started shaking my head as I saw the teeth marks on the birthday boys finger. I told them I didn’t need my finger bitten to kill my drink. I kill drinks like lions kill gazelles.

The sweet old restaurant owner was suddenly not so sweet or old. He reached for my hand and I tucked it away. Suddenly, there were four people fighting for my hand -- a fight I could not win. Teeth plunged into my index finger and I knew that my only way out was to drink the drink. I took that bad boy like I was Frank The Tank. As soon as the glass was empty, my hand was once again mine.

The birthday boy ordered another round. I knew it would be a long night.

By 2am I was biting fingers like they were covered in McDonalds sweet and sour sauce. It ended up being kinda fun. I guess that could be the new way to get your boys to finish their drinks. Just bite their index fingers and see what happens. Tell em that a 50 year old restauranteur started it and that it’s your job to keep it going. That’s what I’ll be doing anyway.

One Last Vegas Story (The Best One)

Rod Benson — 2008-09-12T02:45:44-07:00

It was just one of those mornings. I knew that the night before had been spectacular because I woke up in my own bedroom and, for a split second, thought it wasn’t. It was a relief to know that I made it back to my hotel room and that my boys were there too. Well, actually, one of my boys, Elram, was there, the other, JGant, was nowhere to be found.

It was time for me and Elram to recount what happened the night before. I knew the story to a point. We all showed up at JET Nightclub hoping to get in, even though Elram didn’t have an I.D. I knew it’d be a tall order, but he wanted to go to the hottest club that night and not settle for the Palms.

Clearly they wanted no parts of him and his lack of identification, so we had to bounce. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to head back to the Palms, so that if he was denied again, I could just go right to bed. Elram and JGant had other plans. They wanted to stay and wait for this girl to pick them up so they could try to go to the HARD ROCK and sneak in. After a short argument, it was decided that I had to get back to Palms. They stayed and waited for the girl. That is when our nights went down different paths.

My night was simple. I went to Rain and consumed a lot of alcohol. I fell asleep in my bed. I was awakened by Elram at 6am. He came up to the bed and tapped me to wake me up. I looked at him and told him to go to bed. He said: “wait wait wait. Gabe Pruitt is such a nice dude.”

Confused, I told him to go to bed. That was where my night ended.

I was waiting for Elram to explain to me where the hell JGant was, when his phone rang. JGant was calling. Elram picked up and started talking, then he started laughing. I grabbed the phone from him.

“JGant man where are you?”

“I don’t know,” he answered me.

“Well, why don’t you look at a street sign or something.”

“I don’t see any street signs.”

“Jason, seriously go walk outside of wherever you are and look at a coddamn street sign!”

“Bro, I’m trynna tell you that there are no street signs. It looks like Afghanistan. All I see is dirt.”

I started laughing. I told him to get a cab or tell whatever girl he was with to get him home. There was nothing Elram and I could do. JGant ended up getting a ride and meeting us at the hotel McDonalds. It was time for them to tell me what exactly happened the night before.

JGant explained that they waited for that girl to pick them up while they drank at the lobby bar of the Mirage. The girl came to pick them up a while later and took them to the Hard Rock. From what I was told, she had a bottle of liquor in the car that she offered to JGant. He claims that there had to be roofies in the bottle because he requested to go back to the Palms a few minutes after arriving at the Hard Rock. He passed out in the car on the way and woke up in “Afghanistan,” in her bed. That’s where JGant’s story ends.

Elram arrived at the Hard Rock with one goal in mind: he wanted to sneak into Body English. He was hanging around the lobby, drinking, when a woman began to give him the eyes. He started talking to her, and, before he knew it, he was on the way up to her hotel room.

When he arrived at the hotel room, she put her key in and opened the door. As he began to walk in, he noticed someone down the hall walking in their direction. He didnt pay any mind. He let the door close behind him when he entered the room. Right before it closed, though, a hand pushed it back open and a guy walked into the room as well.

Elram whispered to the woman.

“Who the hell is this?”

She answered him at regular volume.

“Oh, that’s my husband. He likes to watch. Don’t mind him.”

Elram looked over at the guy, who was now seated in one of the chairs, legs crossed, watching SportsCenter. The woman started kissing Elram on his neck and attempting to unbuckle his pants. Elram was feeling uneasy because the guy was just staring right at him. Elram described the watchful husband as “all swole with hella tattoos.”

It became too much for Elram to handle. He got up and took off. He went back downstairs, had some more drinks and somehow, walked into Body English. When I say walked in, I mean that he didn’t sneak in. He just waltzed right in through the regular entrance.

After he was tired of dancing by himself, he decided it was time to head home. He went out front and hailed a cab. The cab driver suggested that Elram go to a strip club before heading home (we later found out that cab drivers in Vegas get paid by strip clubs for referrals). Elram, too drunk to use his better judgement, decided to go to take the taxi drivers advice and head to the strip club.

When he got to the club, he walked in and realized that he didn’t have any I.D., so they sent him right back out. He walked back to the cab. The cab driver suggested ANOTHER strip club. Elram went. Elram went into and was denied from 5 strip clubs, not realizing that his lack of I.D. would keep him from being able to enter.

Finally the cab driver told Elram that he knew of a place better than any strip club. Elram ended up at some place called “The Redroom.” He walked in and there was one beautiful woman sitting there behind a desk. Behind the desk was a long hallway.

“What is this place?” He asked curiously.

“Here at the Redroom we offer full relaxation,” the woman answered.

“I’m sorry, but what exactly does that mean?”

“It means that we offer full relaxation.”

Elram, wanting to explore further, rephrased his question.

“Different people have different opinions on what fully relaxed is. Can you be more specific?”

“Specifically, when you leave here you’ll be fully relaxed,” she answered once again.

Elram left. He got back into the cab and FINALLY got back to the Palms. He paid his cab the $70 fare for driving him all over the city and walked back into the hotel. He walked over to McDonalds and, while waiting in line, struck up a conversation with Gabe Pruitt (Celtics guard). After all of that, he walked back to the room, woke me up, and told me how nice Gabe Pruitt was.

Rubber Ducky Escape!

Rod Benson — 2008-08-20T21:39:11-07:00

After our early scrimmage on the Tuesday of Summer League, Joel Bosh (Chris Bosh’s brother), CJ Giles, Elram, and I were looking for something to do for the night since we had a day off the next day. At around 5pm, CJ hit me up and let me know that was going on. He mentioned to me that there was “Rubber Ducky” pool party going on that night and that we should go check out how much a cabana would cost us.

We all went down there to check it out at about 6. There were people all over who were setting up the cabana’s and filling to pool with the signature rubber duckies. We first went over to the pool and grabbed all the rubber duckies we could that were marked “free drink.” We must have left with about 25 free drink duckies, but before we did, our cabana host showed us which cabana would be ours. he set us up with one at the very back of the pool where we would be right next to a bar. Boom. He told us that each bottle would run about $400, but that he could kick us another one under the table for half off. Basically, we would be set. I was excited.

We headed back down to the pool around 9pm and it was already crackin. We went back to our cabana and got the party started. The problem with the situation was that somebody invited these girls into our cabana (nothin wrong with that, usually) who proceeded to destroy our entire $400 bottle and half our ducky supply. Coddamit.

I began to worry about our drink supply when all of a sudden, the guy who had promised us an under-the-table bottle of Grey Goose, showed up with what looked like a water carafe, but was actually filled with the promised Goose. Nobody knew what was in there except us guys who had reserved the cabana. We all enjoyed the disguised alcohol without the outside consumption and had a great time at the party.

The party was designed to really be an early-night party, ending at midnight so that people could shower and head out to the real club for the night, so while I was lolligagging, the rest of the gang paid for the alcohol, asked if I was cool to catch up, and left. Of course I was cool to catch up. They left and I stayed back a few minutes onger.

Right before I was ready to leave, they guy who hooked us up walked over to me and asked if I was planning on paying for the alcohol. I told him that it had already been paid, that I had watched the other guys sign the credit card receipt.

He told me that they had paid for the official bill, but they had failed to give him the cash required for the under-the-table liquor that he cant ring up in the computer. I, being the brokest one of my whole crew, was not about to fork over $200 cash (clearly I didnt even have that much cash on me). I told the guy that I would call everyone else and work it out.

I picked up the Blackberry and called up the guys.

“Yo, put me on speaker,” I told CJ, “Man what the hell? Did you guys leave me here with this bill?”

Their answer seemed to be collective.

“We told you to come on! It was under-the-table, why would we pay for it?”

I panicked and hung up the phone. It now became clear that I had to plan my escape. I looked up and around and could not see the guy anywhere. I decided I would just get up and do my best to be inconspicuous (a tall order for a tall guy). I scope the exit, and slowly started to walk towards it. Each step I took seemed to be so calculated. Was I walking too slow? Too fast? Was I looking like I had something to hide? Did I look too nonchelant?

All these thoughts were swirling through my head even though I had only taken about 5 of the 150 steps it would take to escape. You must understand that the pool was huge and the exit was clear on the opposite side of my cabana.

I took a couple more steps when I realized that the guy was walking 4 steps in front of me, the same pace as me, with his back to me.

I saw him look over his left shoulder. I ducked right. He then looked over his right shoulder. I ducked left. All of this happened as we continued to walk. I just needed time to think and I was starting to believe that that time would not come.

As we finally hooked the left to go to the home stretch, I had an idea. I figured I would enter the restaurant because there was a direct entrance to the restaurant from the pool. The restaurant must have another exit to the lobby of the Palms Place hotel and thus an exit to the parking lot and back to the Palms.

The guy kept it moving right past the path to the restaurant while I took a left, keeping the same pace, heading to what appeared to be the promised land. But, right when I hooked that left, as if he had been in this situation many times before, the guy took off running toward the exit. Right then I realized that he was going to go cut me off at the resturant exit, which must also be in position to see the regular Palms Place exit.

I turned right back around, this time not looking back or worried about pace and walked right back in the direction I had come from.

The guy must’ve still been indoors as I turned the right, nearly tripping over people and duckies on my way all the way back past our cabana. I remembered that there was an emergency exit on the side of the building that I accidentally discovered earlier while searching for the bathroom. I hightailed it over there.

I barrelled through the “alarm will sound” labeled doors and didnt look back. They led out to the street, but in the middle of a ton of bushes. I stayed low, hunching over and wading through the bushes down Flamingo Street, all the way back to the Palms.

When I finally got back I celebrated, met up with the guys and went into Moon. It couldnt have turned out better. Boom.

How to Sneak Into Ghostbar (And Get Your Legs Broke!)

Rod Benson — 2008-08-19T20:01:38-07:00

A month ago I wrote a story about how simple and easy it is to sneak into Body English nightclub in Las Vegas. Well, as it turns out, there is another Vegas hotspot that is nearly as easy to sneak into called “Ghostbar” at the Palms.

So while I was in Vegas for the summer league, it became apparent that Ghostbar was the best place to go because I was staying in the Palms and it was located on the top floor of the same tower that I was staying in. Essentially, I could head up there at 9 and be in bed by 11 if I felt like it. It was the perfect spot.

During my two weeks in Vegas one of my fellow Boom Tho Originator’s, Elram, came out to stay with me for a number of days. It was all good except for the fact that Elram isn’t 21 and his fake I.D. was confiscated the first day he got to Vegas. This presented many problems. He had asipirations of partying at all the big clubs, but since I wanted to be in bed early and he didnt have an I.D., we tried to get him into Ghostbar.

JGant was also visiting and I informed them both that I had been let into Ghostbar for free and without being carded before. I felt that it would be easy for them to just get right in. They agreed and Ghostbar became our destination for the night.

When we walked up to the Bouncer, he told the cashier that we should be able to get in free. Excellent. Almost there. Right before we were let in a second bouncer started checking ID’s. I showed mine and kept it moving, JGant also showed his ID and got in. The cashier drew up the reciept with the number 2 on it, signifying that there were two of us who were to be let it. She handed it to me and told me to hand it to the guy at the door. I knew that Elram would get turned back and that JGant would stay back with him.

It was then that I realized how easy it would be to sneak in. See (pay attention here if you ever want to sneak right in), Ghostbar, as I said before, is located on the top floor of the tower with the hotel rooms, but the bouncers who check ID and hand out the receipts, are all downstairs on the lobby level. After the woman hands you the receipt, you walk back to the elevators and press the 55th floor button marked “Ghostbar.” When you get to the top, there is a bouncer waiting there to check your receipt and see how many people are supposed to be with you, because anybodywith a suite has to board that elevator to reach their room.

So, I called JGant and Elram and told them to get on the Elevator with me anyway. The three of us got on with a reciept marked for two. There were other people on the elevator who were also heading to ghostbar, so I kind of had to unveil my plan in front of them, no matter. I explained that JGant and Elram should use the receipt marked “2” and that I would get off on the 52nd floor and go back down. Since they don’t card at the top, Elram should be good. They agreed and went up. I sat on the 52nd floor for a minute before recieving a text from JGant saying that it worked and they were in. I then went back to the lobby and to the bouncer, explaining that I had to go back to my room real quick. The cashier gave me a new reciept with the number 1 on it and I used it to get in. Boom. Just that simple.

Me, Elram, and JGant in Ghostbar.

Now, we did this trick for a few days in a row with perfect execition. On day 3, on our way into the elevator to head up to Ghostbar, one of the gaurds asked Elram what floor he was going to (since the knew he didnt have a receipt. Elram answered confidently “54.” As the door of the elevator closed, you could see the guard reaching for his radio.

When the doors were closed, I yelled out loud in front of the other 12 people in the elevator, “You idiot! Tell me what floors are up here!”

Elram looked at the floor buttons. There was 51, 52, 53, and 55. For some odd reason this hotel doesnt’t have a 54. Dammit, I thought, that was a crucial mistake.

An hour and a half later, we were in Ghostbar just chillin. We were kind of off too the side while Elram was talking to some nice young ladies. Elrams mistake hadn’t proven coastly. We were having a great time. We walked back into the main bar area and Elram handed his drink to Joel Bosh, who was also with us, and said “make sure you drink this. We can’t let it go to waste bro.”

I asked Elram why he just gave up his drink. He responded with “they figured me out. They know I’m not 21.”

I told Elram he was being paranoid. There was no way they could figure that out, and if they somehow had, I could see every bouncer there (power of height), and none of them were looking at Elram and I. I turned around to tell Joel to give Elram back his drink and tell him he was trippin. When I turned back around, four bouncers had grabbed Elram and had already almost whisked him away. I saw Elram look back at me with fear in his eyes as they walked him out of my view.

Joel, respecting what seemed to be Elrams last words, began to drink the drink. I stood there with a confused look on my face. I tried to call Elram four times. There were no answers on the first three calls. On call four he picked up, but I couldn’t make out his words. It was like a bad Verizon commerical. I started to get worried. All I heard him say was “I’m in the kitchen surrounded by 7 big ass dudes.”

Now everyone was in a bit of a panic. We’ve all seen the movies and in those movies this situation always ends with someone gettin their legs broke. I couldn’t afford to have broke legs on my conscience. Another friend of mine tried to break into the kitchen to see if Elram was in there. She pretended to just be too drunk to know where the bathroom was, but when she was in there, she couldnt see him anywhere.

We all left Ghostbar with many questions and no answers. We started back up to my hotel room. When we got off the elevator on my floor, there was Elram standing with one security guard. Elram didnt look hurt. Elram noticed us and yelled out “There they are! I told you!” The guard let Elram come with us. I told the guard that I thought Elrams legs were bout to come back broke. The guard responded “we don’t do that stuff anymore.”

We settled down in the room and I asked Elram what happened. He said that he saw the guards eyeing him while he was still in the Ghostbar and he noticed them talking into radios. When one of them apporached him, he handed off his drink and told me they had him. Sooner after that, he was surrounded in the kitched. They kept asking him what his name was and how he got in without an I.D. Elram, being resourceful, took his wallet out of his back pocket and tucked it under his armpit, so that they couldn’t get his info from his real ID. The questions continued. Elram never backed down, and never told them anything. Instead of breaking his legs, they let him go. That was it.

Elram’s Ghostbar run came to an end that day, luckily, it was also his last day out there so it didn’t really matter. Moral of the story, you can sneak into Ghostbar, just know that THE 54TH FLOOR DOES NOT EXIST!

Aubrey Sings Maxwell

Rod Benson — 2008-08-19T19:54:01-07:00

Aubrey gives us another look at his talents, this time in vocal form to the tune of Maxwell.

Aubrey Sings Maxwell from Rod Benson on Vimeo.

The Dance Off: Aubreys Turn

Rod Benson — 2008-08-03T19:28:26-07:00

First of all, if you haven’t seen “The Dance Off,” go back and check it out first.

Now, there has been a bit of tension around these parts lately. See, Clay has been a little touched (if you couldnt tell by his comments on his “dance off” vid) about the response to his video. But hey, he knew the rules of the game when he entered it.

Part of Clay’s “Dance Off” related sulking has included his refusal to watch the video that you are about to watch. He has yet to see Aubrey’s video. I’ve seen it. It’s great. You have to pay attention to this one a little more. The entire first minute is Aubrey trying to get ready and in my opinion, it’s the funniest thing ever. Anyway, I’ll let you be the judge. Here it is:

Aubrey Enters the Dance Off from Rod Benson on Vimeo.

Rememeber, I’ll have a vote at the end of 4 weeks to determine who is the best.

BTGOM: July

Rod Benson — 2008-07-31T11:06:41-07:00

So I have recieved yet another self nomination for BTGOM. She actually sent messages to both my MySpace and Facebook, which under different circumstances, might qualify her for a slot in “Funny MySpace Messages” (look for a new installment soon). Instead, I was intorduced to a smart, motivated, woman with a high degree of boom-tho-ness and an even higher degree of proactivity. Oh yea, and she’s easy on the eyes. Verrry easy.

I’ll just tell you what she told me and you can read why I felt comfortable naming her BTGOM: July:

“Hey Rod,
I'm sure you get flooded with all kinds of crazy messages (actually, I know you do because I'm a loyal reader of your hilarious blog), but I figured I'd take a shot in the dark and contact you.
My name is Jordan, I'm 21, I go to Syracuse University, I like long walks on the beach and bubble baths, yadda yadda yadda... Point of this message: I am an intern with MTV News this summer (the hip hop department), and it's been the most incredible experience ever. I've met some pretty amazing people, and gained some amazing insight to this crazy industry that I hope to one day enter.
ANYWAYS... There's an opportunity that's been presented to all interns to promote this year's VMA's. The grand prize is to report live from the red carpet. Clearly I want to be on that damn carpet, haha. They want us to come up with creative and fun ways to promote the VMA's, and I know you're extremely creative and fun (based on what I've seen/read).
I guess I'm nominating myself for Boom Girl?! I'm going to start a YouTube channel and release exclusive info about the VMA's on them, and the more hits the better. If in any way you could lend your services and provide your fans access to me, I would be forever grateful! Hell, if I end up on that red carpet, I'll take you as my date! I realize how busy you are, so no hard feelings if you can't do anything, but it was worth a try, right?
Anyways, thanks for being so funny, love your blog and have gotten all my friends addicted now too. :)
With all the boom tho i can muster,
Jordan

Here are some of my articles, just so you know I'm for real :)

http://newsroom.mtv.com/20

08/06/23/ice-t-vs-soulja-b

oy-tellem-video-blog-beef-

heats-up-kanye-weighs-in/

http://newsroom.mtv.com/20

08/06/25/ne-yo-says-his-a-

milli-freestyle-is-not-aim

ed-at-chris-brown/

http://www.mtv.com/news/ar

ticles/1590795/20080711/yu

ng_berg.jhtml?rsspartner=r

ssColdFusion
“

SO at the end of the day, I can help a hot girl help herself on her way to her goals. If only there was a way she could get me a contract, then we’d truly be even. Although, if she does win the right to host the VMA’s, and she actually did ttake me as her date, it would be the biggest victory that Boom Tho has had to this point. Let’s make it happen!

So, withouy further adieu, I introduce the BTGOM for July 2008, Jordan Upmalis:

Go ahead and google her, add her on facebook, or myspace, do whatever it takes to get her, ahem, and me, to the VMA’s! Boom!

The Dance Off

Rod Benson — 2008-07-24T09:50:14-07:00

A few weeks back, my boy Clayton, a couple of his co-workers and I wer having dinner in SF. Clayton works for a start-up video sharing website called “Howcast.com.” Anyway, I guess that being the only black guy there instantly shufles him to the top of most socially cool catagories.

I’m not sure how it came up, but one of his co-workers was talking about how great Clayton is at dancing. They all go out sometimes and Clayton hold down the dance floor while they all sit around and watch him work his moves. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when they were praising him as an honorable mention Jabawakee.

“Clay’s not a bad dancer,” I told them, “but he’s not exactly as tight as you’re making him sound.”

“When we go out, he has all the moves,” they informed me.

Clay was sitting there the whole time. You could tell he was ready to say something, but he was just acknowledging their words so far.

“In your group he may be at the top of the list, but in my group he’s like the third best,” I said.

That’s when he snapped. Clay made it a point to say that he was clearly the best in the group. I told him that he was for sure not better than JGant (I took myself out of it, but clearly I’m better too). I also told him that his “break-off-a-breezy” abilities are top notch, but his solo moves are what place him at #3. Clay took real offense to that.

We spent the next hour arguing, with his co-workers mocking input, over where he fell in the ranks of our group. Clay feels that I’m too tall to look right when dancing. He feels that JGant only has one real move, and is not a good break-off artist.

So, that night he just started dancing. I busted out the camera and I realized what was about to transpire. We now have a multi-person, two round, you-decided-the-winner, dance off. Each week I’ll post the video of a contestant or two and at the end of 4 weeks, Ill take a vote to crown the dance off champion. As of right now, the contestants are Clay, JGant, Aubrey (be prepared to die laughing), and myself.

Let’s kick it off right with Clayty Clays dance off video:

Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.

How to Sneak Into Body English / Sugar Shane's My Boy!

Rod Benson — 2008-07-20T19:38:22-07:00

This story happened over Memorial Day weekend, but I was too busy to write about it before heading to the Summer League. Anyway, I definitely feel that it’s worth reading. In a way, it’s a story, but in another way, it’s a very simple way to start your night outside the Hard Rock hotel in Vegas and end your night inside of Body English nightclub at the Hard Rock. Here goes:

We started out our night in our pimp ass presidential suite at Caesar’s Palace. While we were decided where to go, I got an E-Mail from Dj Dig Dug alerting me that Body English was the spot to be that night.

As you can see, we are just about ready to make our moves for the night. From left to right it’s Cedric, Lil Jason, JGant, Me, and Ramy. The five of us had no idea what was in store for us, but with Dig Dug’s guidance, we were sure to have a lot of fun.

When we got over to the Hard Rock hotel, the lines were out of control. There must have been four different lines, all with a different meaning and all of those except for one led to another inner waiting area. Even with Dig Dug’s help, we were going to be in a world of hurt.

Thing about it was that Dig Dug told me a name to ask for and everywhere I tried to ask, I was told to talk to somebody else. I finally just chose the shortest line and cut to the front. The guy there sent me to the waiting area to ask for the guy I was looking for with the hook-up. The problem with this manuevar was that Ramy had dissappeared so now our 5 had become 4. Even more problematic was the fact that they were charging $100 per person to get in and once the bouncer decided to let us in, we would either have to find that connect quickly, or pay the cover.

Lil Jason, JGant and I were finally at the velvet rope. Any second now it would all work out or come to a depressing $100 end. Cedric was about 10 feet back talking to some girls. All of a sudden, Sugar Shane Mosely popped up behind JGant and me. The guy working the rope couldn’t see him though becuase we are over a foot taller than Shane. Already frustrated with the situation, we conceded that Sugar Shane was about to walk right in and we would be stuck there. We moved out of the way and told the bouncer that Sugar Shane was right there. He quickly grabbed Shane and asked him who he was with. Shane pointed to his crew, then turned back and pointed at Jgant and me and told the bouncer that we were with him too. Jgant quickly grabbed lil Jason and brought him with us.

The bouncer walked us through the kitchen, up some back stairs, and right up to the VIP section. The moment was filled with a high degree of Boom-Tho-Ness. When I first got to the VIP table, I noticed that there was a disposable camera, which I instantly commandeered. JGant and I were ready to rock and roll and get in there like swimwear.

Cedric, who was busy gaming up some girls, never caught up with us and was basically left outside. Ramy was still MIA and nobody knew what had happened to him. It didn’t matter though. We were inside gettin loose off that Goose courtesy of Sugar Shane Mosely.

What you see about is me, Shane, Lil Jason and JGant in the VIP. We were holdin it down in there for about 20-30 minutes when all of a sudden, Ramy shows up out of Nowhere:

I was so confused when Ramy showed up. We hadn’t seen the kid in an hour and we just figured he was locked out with Cedric. Ramy informed us that he had been inside of the club partying for an hour. JGant and I didn’t quite understand how that could be. The lines were super long and ridiculous. There was no way for him to get in, then find us up at the upper level VIP. It just didnt make sense. Ramy then began to tell us a story that we just couldn’t believe. If you want to sneak your way into Body English, now is the time to listen up. I’ll rewind back to when we first showed up at the Hard Rock hotel.

So Ramy, being very intoxicated and impatient, decided that he was ready to party right when we got there. Also, he had a couple of his boys meet him and I told him that it would be hard enough to get in with 5 men, let alone 7. After realizing how long the line was, he doubled back around to a place he hadn’t been since he was 16 years old.

Ramy now stood outside the Hard Rock hotel staring at the door he had discovered back when he was an underage kid trying to live up his Vegas experience. There are many doors outside of the Hard Rock hotel, but if you look, like he did that night, you’ll see a double glass door with two sets of white doors to the left of them. One is a single white door and the other is a double white door. Ramy confidently walked through the single white door, which led down a small flight of stairs and right into thr middle of the dance floor. JGant and I nearly fell over when he reached this point in his story.

Ramy then, forgetting that he had left his other two friends outside, went back up the stairs and back out the door. As soon as he cracked the secret door, his two homies were waiting for him outside and followed Ramy back in. They got to the bottom of the stairs and begin to celebrate by jumping around wildly. Right then, a security guard spots them and walks up to Ramy and says “You guys got in? Great. Now get the f*** out.”

Ramy and his boys were forced back out the way they came. At that point, they simply waited a couple minutes outside, then walked right back in through the door. This time, instead of celebrating, they came right up to the VIP and spotted JGant and me.

As you can see, the night ended very well for everyone... except Cedric. When I got back to my hotel room, Cedric was waiting there, alone. He was not happy about the fact that we all partied with Sugar Shane. His bad. He should have just snuck it!

You Just Got JGanted!

Rod Benson — 2008-07-06T22:03:05-07:00

The second day of Memorial Day weekend, JGant, Kim, Ced and I were walking down the strip, when somebody thought it’d be a good idea to go into some bootleg casino and play the slots. I guess one of my homies had garnered a ticket that gave them $50 in free slot play, so thats what they did. It was obviously a set-up. A winner wasn’t a winner unless the jackpot was hit, which, of course, was never going to happen.

Well, while we were in this place, JGant and I walked around a bit because he wanted to play blackjack or something. After about a quarter-lap around the tables, someone yelled out to me.

“Rod Benson! Boom Tho!”

I turned around and there were some guys who looked pretty excited to be part of the movement. Soon after they saw me, they saw JGant.

“JGant! JGant! What’s up?!”

You have to understand that JGant usually doesn’t get the recognition. He gets some, but when he does, he ALWAYS feels big time when it happens. He makes a face that tells you that his heart and brain have just given each other a high five.

On this day, he quickly made the same face. He started smiling too as we started walking over to talk to the guys who were mad-boom-tho. The guys made it clear that they read TMRB and knew all the stories. They also made it clear that they knew JGant. I explained to them that he loves the recognition, which I think he also loved.

The who event took a turn when they explained to JGant why his name rings bells in their circle. They explained to us that their favorite entry on TMRB was “Don’t Make Me Punch You in the Balls... Again”. If you haven’t read that yet, do it now before you continue. It’s very important.

These guys then proceeded to say that they, sometimes sock eachother in the balls just to make each other mad or as a prank. They said that right after they sock their victim in the balls, they yell out “YOU JUST GOT JGANTED!” or “I JGANTED HIM!”

JGants brain and heart went from high-fiving, to collaborating on a way to erase these guys from the face of the earth. I’ve never seen him go from so happy to so annoyed in a second. These guys then proceeded to demonstrate the whole ball-punching motion while yelling out “I JGanted him!” It was real tough on JGant. I was ROLLING though. No way was this for real. People out there are really “JGanting” each other with my blog in mind? I LOVE it. I absolutely love it.

We took pictures with the guys (JGant wasn’t happy about the photo’s either) while they had their fists balled up in an “I’m about to ‘JGant’ you” fashion. Classic. I guess a new era has officially been ushered in: the “JGant him” era.

The Ipod Game?

Rod Benson — 2008-07-04T13:39:18-07:00

Memorial weekend was coming to an end and it seemed like we hadn’t really enjoyed our pool at Caesars Palace quite the way we should. On Memorial Day Monday we decided this should change. JGant, Ramy, and I headed to the elevator to go down to the pool. When we stepped on, there were three pretty good looking women on there too. We talked for a second, then parted ways when the elevator reached the lobby.

We dropped our bags off at the front desk and headed over to the pool. After searching for 3 chairs for what seemed like ages, we finally found our resting place in a shaded area of the pool deck and sat down. 20 minutes later, those same girls from the elevator came walking out of the pool in their swimsuits and sat in their chairs, which just so happened to be 15 feet from us, facing us.

I’m pretty sure that most girls look better in swimwear (see why I’m always trynna get in there?), and they were no different. They went from good to great just that quickly.

So now we are sitting in our chairs with our sunglasses on and they are in sitting in their chairs, sunglasses on, and we are all pretending like we arent looking at each other, which is impossible because our chairs are 15 feet away and facing towards one another. It was half-awkward, half-awesome. My glasses don’t allow you to see my eyes, so I made it a point to look straight ahead, but check them out at the same time.

Finally, JGant went to go grab something from his bag. I was going to ask him to grab my book so I could read, but I realized that that was foolish. I instead told him to grab my portable ipod speakers and my ipod. It was time to get this party started.

When he came back, I started playing music at max volume. The speakers are loud, but not THAT loud, so the girls could hear the song well enough, but not great. I played everything from Usher to Journey, from Bob Sinclair to Mickey Avalon. It wasn’t long before they all bought in. They were singing my songs amongst themselves like we were in a club. Still, the music hadn’t brought us together, which was my ultimate goal.

Ramy had just come out of the pool when I asked him to do me a favor. I told him that I was gonna play a song and that he should walk the ipod dock over to the girls and set it down right in front of them. He was reluctant at first, but after some more convincing, I started a song and he walked the dock over to the girls. He sat it down at the feet of the hottest girl and said “this is from him.”

“Tell me why
Ain't nothin' but a heartache
Tell me why
Ain't nothin' but a mistake
Tell me why
I never wanna hear you say
I want it that way”

Oh yea. I definitely sent them “I want it that way” by the Backstreet Boys. They laughed and enjoyed it. After that, the flood gates were open. I walked over and said “I’m sure you’re used to guys sending you drinks. I figured I’d send you a song. A song that shows just how I want it: that way.”

We started talkin w them and ended up riding in their car over to TAO Beach at the Venetian. Once we were there, we got in the pool and had the greatest pool party ever.

We finally parted ways at 9pm that night after a whole day that started with a song. If you’re not enough of a poet to compete in the Poem Game, then try sending a song. Maybe your day will turn out like ours did.

BTGOM: May (Yes, I know it's July right now)

Rod Benson — 2008-07-03T10:04:03-07:00

This was meant to go up long ago, but that doesn’t mean that this month’s BTGOM is any less important than the past winners of the prestigious award. This month is particularly special actually, because I decided to include an honorable mention. It’s also special because both of the following Boom Tho Girls EARNED their spot.

In true pageant form, I’ll first list the honorable mention BTGOM. This girl earned her spot not because she is a model or a celebrity. It wasn’t because people emailed me about her. It wasn’t because she was discovered at a Des Moines, Iowa bar (been to many) like a diamond in the rough. This girl is an honorable mention BTGOM strictly due to the fact that she wanted to be and because she was persistent and witty in her pursuit of the title.

I hold a vote with the other Boom Tho Originators each month to determine the validity of the BTGOM’s and this vote placed her second. I felt that she still had to be mentioned because the people need to know just how she campaigned for her spot. It all started with this email:

“Before I begin my campaign for BTGOTM (what a long acronym), let me say I recognize that I’m not some sexy beltway diva, nor am I a lovable NBC star, nor have I ever been in an ad for deoderant. Your GOTMs so far have been from the upper echelons of sexy-society—the lucky Boom Tho ladies have glamour shots and full Google Image portfolios to match. Some Boom Tho haters might even argue that these ladies are unattainable for a NB(DL)A star like yourself (For the record, I completely disagree—sky’s the limit!)

As your stat sheet has filled, your blog roll expanded and your hit counter skyrocketed like the Tech-Bubble Dow Jones, your audience has grown and changed. We are a diverse bunch who giggle when you clown on fellow NBA bloggers and love the inflection on Boom GOT them Tho! We enjoy both the simple pleasures of MySpace message exposés and the high-brow discussions about Pistol Pete. We have both your TMRB and NBA Experts Blog on our Google Reader RSS feed because we’re incredibly technologically sophisticated.

What I’m trying to say is, I think it’s time the BTGOTM went out to a ‘normal’ reader. However, when I say normal, I mean in the same way that Surf Ninja’s was a ‘normal’ 90’s movie. I am a New York native, now in my third year studying at Harvard. I have red hair and playful freckles. I laugh out loud to your postings in the library while studying for exams, I say Boom got them DOS with decent regularity, and my Boom Tho! Shirt is already in the mail. Just like your blog, I stay simultaneously extremely educated, incredibly comical and super classy.

Boom Tho.

Sarah Sherman”

Who the hell is Sarah Sherman? I began to wonder that to myself, among other things. She got immediate points for mentioning “Surf Ninja’s,” which was a move I would have pulled. Not to mention that Ton Loc was somehow cast in a movie about a family of surfers who know Karate.

I forwarded the email to my other Boom Tho Originators. Here are some of the immediate responses:

“Impressive argument. But this girl has red hair, freckles and with a name like Sarah Sherman is DEFINITELY Jewish. Being a member of the tribe myself, and having seen my fair share of redheaded, freckled Jewish women, I will pay your cover at any club the next time you come out here if she's actually cute. Plus she sounds way to smart to be cute.” -- Alex

“wow this chick is on it pretty tough...(maybe that's what harvard does to you?), but I think its a good idea to have users as the boom tho girl of the month, we've talked about this before.....” -- Clay

Alex was right. Nobody that smart could be attractive, right? Her words were already making her attractive and thus making us all believe that it was too good to be true. I emailed her back asking for pictures. Gotta have pictures for a BTGOM. She sent me this email and the following pictures:

“Rod,

I must extend my deepest apologies. My absence from world wide web contact has been a result of two things. First, crazy school ish has picked up around here and I have been struggling to tread water in a sea of response papers and exams. I've kept my head high, my dixon-ticonderogas (an exceptional pencil) impeccably sharpened and my Macbook on permanent 'charged' status--i'm in the clear now for a few weeks until finals. Second, and more gut-wrenching, Mike Mongtomery?!?? While Braun's firing was reasonable, hiring Benedict Arnold was a bold move that I have yet to come to terms with. Not since Shareef went one-and-done on us have I been this worried about Bears basketball.

As for the photos--i'm here to flood your inbox like it's a flickr account. Here's three shots, each with its own fun and flirty style. While an A-list BTGOTMer would roll with A-list celebs, the more 'average' BTGOTMs out there kick it incredibly C-list (Read: Leilene from Flavor of Love.. Ohhh yeaaah).

I must admit, I was a bit hurt when I saw you opened up the competition to the whole internet via your blogosphere casting call, but I think this one's in the back of the net for me.

Boom got them DOS.

Sarah.”

I couldnt be mad at that. She definitely is cute. If I met her at a Bar, I would make a play. She got my vote to be a BTGOM, but she just couldn’t beat out this months winner. She did send me another email couple weeks ago that I forwarded to the homies as well:

“so i wore my "boom tho shirt" out last night.

the crowds went wild.

i may or may not be the illest chick on campus.”

Alex replied:
“This chick is funny.”

Clay said:

“can we get a pic at least with her wearing the shirt? how bout she spreads the boomthodome to the harvard campus...haven't seen too many orders come down from beantown. “

Now, for THE May BTGOM. She earned her spot as well, but in a different way. I’ve known her for years, and she has always hyped the movement. So much so, that she actually created the very first boom tho shirt:

Yep, that was her creation. Her boom-tho-ness is high, but her accolades are even higher. She was the Gatorade High School Volleyball National Player of the Year, an All American at the University of Arizona, and a current member of USA Volleyball which is currently training for the Beijing Olympics. She just signed a three year deal with Under Armour and has other modeling ventures.

Even being as big time as she is, she still prefers to rock a Boom Tho shirt on the weekends (dresses and heels at night). So here is the May BTGOM, Kimberly Glass:

Oh yea, and she’s 6’2” tall!

Boom.

Return of the Mac

Rod Benson — 2008-07-03T09:57:32-07:00

It’s been damn near 40 days since my last post. I’ll explain why real quickly. My trusty old MacBook decided to take a permanent vacation. It was working just fine, then it just never turned on again. The sourcefile for my site was stuck on that computer and thus, lost forever. I have since purchased a new MacBook Pro and started the rebuilding process, which included copying and pasting ALL the content from my old site.

Anyways, now I have MANY entries to update over the next couple weeks, so expect a healthy dose of ridiculousness.

Frantic Search for Jeans in Vegas

Rod Benson — 2008-05-21T15:57:02-07:00

When my season ended, I was scheduled to go to Eugene, OR for the weekend to get together with my man Sammy Glaser and shoot some photos for Bill Adler Designs. Well, the trip was paid for and everything, when I found out that JGant was gonna be in Vegas that same weekend. How could I pass on an opportunity to party with my partner in crime in the Sin City? I couldn't. I had to switch it up and make my way down to Vegas.

Along with JGant was a whole crew of Berkeley kids who were all part of my crew back in the day, so I didn't mind sharing a room with 3 other grown men. The entire weekend was ridiculous to be honest. We had a group of about 12 in 3 adjoining rooms, so everybody was wilin' out the whole time. We hit the town in our boom tho shirts as a crew and everything. It was solid. We even started freestylin' some boom tho raps while we were pre-gaming in the hotel room:

As you can see we are goin pretty hard right now. Right after this, my man Anthony Bright took over and gave me a solid boom tho flow that we got on tape (rated R):

Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.

Well in the midst of this ridiculous weekend, I hit up my man Ryan Vezapour and asked him what would be crackin for the weekend. At the same time, I emailed the Vegas DJ with the most boom-tho-ness, DJ Dig Dug, and asked him the same. Ryan told us about the Kanye West concert that was crackin that Friday, and it so happened that Dig Dug said the same thing. Boom. JGant and I knew what we were doing that night. We were gonna drop $88 apiece and check out one of the best rappers on the planet out at the Red Rock Hotel and Casino, which was about 25 minutes off the strip.

Ryan picked us up and drove us out there for the big show. When we got to the outdoor venue, Lupe Fiasco was already killin the mic up on stage so we settled into the middle of the pack and got right to enjoying ourselves. During the course of the concert, about 5-7 people approached me and proclaimed their boom-tho-ness. It was pretty solid. Except for this one girl behind me who kept grabbin my ass the whole night. When I asked her what was goin on, she said she saw me on E:60 and I couldn't help but laugh. Silly.

I've been to Rock the Mic, Up in Smoke, and the Glow in the Dark tour, and Kanye's performance that night at Glow in the Dark was easily the best I've ever seen from a rapper. Crazy stage, no hype men, 20 songs, and the straight up realness bein' spit every verse. While I was enjoying the show, Dj Dig Dug told me that he was DJing the afterparty at the club inside of Red Rock. He said that we should just go up to the door, drop his name, and boom boom.

So, after the show we walked over to the club (like everyone else) and told the security that Dig Dug had us. He left, then came back and said that we were good. As we were about to walk in, he stopped us. Ryan and I had on shorts since it was Vegas and it was an outdoor party. He said that the shorts would not fly. He said we were good if we came back in some jeans. Damn. So close, yet so far away. Our hotel was 25 minutes away and it was already 10:40, driving back to the strip would mean that we would just go somewhere over there and give up on the Kanye afterparty. We needed to get some jeans, and fast.

We walked out to Ryan's car. He had a pair of jeans in his trunk that fit him just nicely, but I had nothing to work with. What you are about to see is a video documentary of what transpired next:

Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.

What you need to understand is that Wal-Mart was about 10 minutes away, so it made sense to make that trip considering that every other store was closed. Also, I could have probably worn the 36 length jeans, but there was no way I was gonna be caught dead in some coddamn wranglers. No way. Luckily for us, JGant didn't recognize what developed and we ended up having a pretty spectacular night. I wore his nice jeans and he wore the wranglers.

We met up with Dig Dug in the party and told him what kind of music we were lookin for. That dude HOOKED IT UP. Have you ever seen someone C-Walk and get Hyphy in some Wrangler jeans? I have. His name is JGant and it was a legendary moment. It was a moment that taught me that if you have a high degree of boom-tho-ness in your heart, it doesn't matter if you just bought your jeans at Wal-Mart. JGant still got down and pulled a couple numbers. Mad-boom-tho-ness.

Poem Game 3

Rod Benson — 2008-05-13T15:55:48-07:00

I was down in San Diego last week to visit the mother when I decided that it would be a good idea to visit my high school's basketball team banquet. You know, one of those end of the year, let's celebrate the good guys and give certificates to the scrubs, type of deal.

While I was there, some of the kids on the Varsity team wanted to know how I felt about helping them work on one of the servers with some poetry. Specifically, they wanted to play The Poem Game. I was all for it, of course. I was able to grab a pen and a napkin and I got to work. It seems to be getting harder to come up with new poems on the fly, but I was still able to whip one up. This is what I wrote for them:

Outside this room golf is everywhere,
But inside this place love is in the air
You wear black and white, I want to Looky
You look like a tasty Oreo cookie
Think about the games we could play
In a golf cart out on Lomas Santa Fe
Monica, you work here, I'm from Torrey Pines
Monica I could say your name a 1000 times
If I'm a ninja turtle, be my April O'niel
Come get my Ooze, if that's how you feel
Better yet I'll be Shrek, you be Fiona
We'd make sweet artwork like the Mona
Let me take you out to lunch, be my Hannah Montana
You bring some chips, I'll bring the banana!

I gave the napkin back to Ramsey Hopkins, a junior at TP. He then gave it to the server. Here's how it went down:

Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.

The Bachelor Party

Rod Benson — 2008-05-07T15:52:14-07:00

removed

Naggin in Iceland

Rod Benson — 2008-05-07T15:51:11-07:00

My old high school teammate and current overseas baller Avi Fogel and I were driving down to the UCSD campus to play some pickup ball with the D2 kids when he decided to break the silence of the lazy afternoon.

"Rod man I forgot to tell you about for funny ish that happened when I was overseas in Iceland," he said excitedly, knowing that I would enjoy the story.

"Oh yea?" I responded. "What's crackin?"

I won't quote him because due to laughter, I don't remember his exact words. So I'll it the way I remember it. He tells me that when he was in Iceland the majority of his teammates were black and from the U.S. He said that one night they all went out to some Icelandic club that, based on his description of Icelandic women, I would have to assume was pretty crackin and filled with many dime pieces.

One of his boys was REALLY feelin one of those dimes out in the club so he made a play, but she shot him down. I guess later he tried again, and again, and finally again. She just wasn't buying what the man was selling I guess. I wasn't there, but I can imagine a dude thinkin that he was gonna get some "easy" play overseas who realized that she wasn't that way.

Well, I guess the girl started to get annoyed with the situation. She walked up to Avi and his bothersome teammate and said "Why do you keep naggin me so much? All you do is nag nag nag!"

I guess Avi replies "Hahaha what? He keeps nagging you?"

Frustrated, the girl says to the teammate: "Yes. Why are you such a stupid NAGGER?"

Ummm.... I guess the accent made it tough to hear, so the teammate says: "What? Bitch, you don't know me!" and allegedy socks her in the face!

I haven't laughed so hard at anything yet since season ended. Obviously hitting a girl is off limits, but coddamn, he hit her because she called him a stupid NAGGER? Classic. Nagger should have shut his coddamn mouth!

BTGOM: April

Rod Benson — 2008-04-24T15:43:12-07:00

I asked, you answered. I wanted to know who the next BTGOM should be, and I got the same answer many times. I was apprehensive about accepting this particular suggestion because I remember reading something about her last year. I read that she really doesn't want all the attention that she's been getting. I read that as a high schooler, she was basically being stalked and that there were pictures and discussions and websites all chronicling her every move. Maybe it was warranted, but it was unwanted.

Well, in a way, this is one of those same attention creating, "let's all gawk at the hot girl" things that she has resented for so long. In another way, however, this is very different. This is the Boom Tho Girl of the Month. This is about recognizing someone out there who I think is ready like spaghetti, someone who is in there like swimwear, and someone who could help promote the movement through looks, yes, but also through being all around cool, smart, and progressive.

That being said, I now feel comfortable naming Allison Stokke the BTGOM for April 2008. Some of the emails called this too perfect. Maybe it is. An athlete from my school who looks like that? I guess it was just meant to be. Maybe I'll go into HAAS this summer to get my ankles taped by Barry Parsons, AKA the best trainer in the history of training, and I'll see her in there. She probably won't know who I am, but Barry and I will look at each other and understand the Boom-Tho-Ness of the situation.

If you read this, Allison, understand that I recognize the way you literally raise the bar for the Cal track team and figuratively raise the bar for all Cal women who, although some of the most intelligent women in the country, are not renowned for their looks. I can envision you dancing at a FIJI (Cal Frat) party, absolutely framed like a diamond in the rough. I emerge through the front door with my crew of Boom Tho t-shirt wearing hooligans, get you a drink and we get next on the Beirut table (beer pong to those who don't really know). Ask Mohammed (Cal student services blah blah slash athlete favorite) about me, he'll tell you what's up!

That is what I missed out on during my four years. Oh well. Still, Mo, do it.

Ode to Jenna Fischer Parte Dos

Rod Benson — 2008-04-20T15:40:18-07:00

Earlier today, I went out and bought "Walk Hard." I popped into my xbox and started watching it. I had no idea Jenna Fischer was in that bad boy looking as gorgeous as ever. It pissed me off in a way. Why did nobody tell me that the official Boom Tho girl was all spiced up and hot in a Judd Apatow movie? It caught me by surprise. I would have gone to the theatre to see it if I had known all the details.

Anyways, the fact of the matter is that the Boom Tho GOTM's have gotten more attention lately than the original Boom Tho Girl. Jenna, I haven't forgotten about you. We have a chemistry that only two people who have never met can share. It's special to only us. So, I decided that you needed another poem to show you just how I feel. The first poem can be seen in "Ode to Jenna Fischer", but this is the second one. This is Part Dos!

The past few months have been really whack
But 2 weeks ago at 7 The Office came back
I'm so glad she came back - I've missed her
That's right, I've missed you Jenna Fischer
I know you think we don't know each other
But after watching Dewey Cox, I think you need a brother
If you were some milk, I'd be like Ovaltine
We'd get some brown in you if you know what I mean
Yep, I said it, I'm anything but coy,
If your life is a happy meal, then I'm your free toy
My beds like a ship, let me be your captain
Come to my room, "Where Boom Tho Happens"
So what if Will Farrell felt you up in blades of glory
The irrigation room gets wild after dwights bedtime story
You're like the Little Mermaid, Ariel of the Sea
Ill go to the water where it is hotter take it from me
Let me show you why they call me Too Much
I just want to treat you like my Ipod Touch
The next line is dirty, If you know what I mean
Treat me like a Nintendo Cartridge that's not clean
We could be like Jules and Seth, solid as a rock
You can scratch my back, but it's located on my --
Let's make some sweet music like Bleeker and Juno
When it comes to Boom Tho girls, you're numero uno!

Pistol Pete-isms

Rod Benson — 2008-04-19T15:30:16-07:00

On Ball Don't Lie, I wrote about Pistol Pete and how his skills were superhuman. Go read that, if you haven't already.

Now that you've read it, I decided to list all the Pistol Pete-isms that people posted. So, here they are, uncut:

a Pistol Pete spin-dribble started Hurricane Katrina
* When he ran suicides, he called them baby-makers. * He could have averaged 50 points a game, but he likes palindromes. * Shaquille O'Neal only took the name 'Diesel' because Pistol took Premium. * It wasn't March Madness until Pistol got angry. * Dick Vitale sounded like Jay Bilas until he saw Pistol's crossover. * ESPN originally stood for "Every Shot of Pistols is Notable."
Referees never called fouls on Pistol Pete; he ordered them to randomly blow their whistles to make his possessions more interesting.

Pistol Pete caused the 1977 New York blackout during a pickup game when his crossover dribble accidentally generated an electromagnetic pulse.

Pistol Pete's baby teeth grew arms and legs and eventually spawned into 7 members of the 1986 Celtics.

Pistol Pete once melted a pair of Chuck Taylors into the shape of the Virgin Mary dribbling a basketball--15 minutes later, the silhouette began producing tears.”

Pistol Pete is so fast that all his assists are to himself.
Pistol Pete doesn't break ankles, he amputates feet.
Pistol Pete didn't drop dimes, he dropped C-notes.
When Pistol Pete played, they moved the 3-point line to half court, because a 20-footer is just a layup to Pistol Pete.”
Pistol Pete never hit the rim. He swished every shot he ever took, he refused to even dunk the ball as he viewed the rim as disgusting and didn't want to touch it in any way.
if pistol pete was black they'd call him rod benson
Pistol Pete ran the 3-man weave single-handedly.

Pistol Pete racked up 21 assists in a one-on-one game.

Pistol Pete went deep into the NIT tournament despite the fact that his teammates were 7 goats and a truck tire.

Pistol Pete once had a line of 63 points, 21 assists, 18 rebounds, and 3 impregnated cheerleaders.”
Pistol Pete is a good scorer without the ball. Literally, he just stares at the ball and it goes in.

Pistol Pete's crossover is so devastating that reading about it will break your ankles. Don't believe me? Look down at your ankles right now. That's right.”
If Pistol Pete lost half his talent, they'd still say he boom got them dos!
Pistol Pete ran the triangle offense in 1 on 1 games.

Pistol Pete didn't call time outs. He stopped time.

Pistol Pete woulda averaged 57 points a game with the college three point line (that one's real).”
Pistol Pete is so fast that he makes other fast people..............seem.....umm....not..so fast.
well that sucked.”

Pistol Pete referred to practice as nap time.

Pistol Pete ate whole boxes of Wheaties in between time outs.

Pistol Pete never turned the ball over ever. The numbers that indicated otherwise on stat sheets were on the order of Pistol himself, just to show his supreme humility; one among many of his countless outstanding qualities.

Pistol Pete knows where Carmen San Diego is.”
The 3PT line wasn't ready like spaghetti for Pistol Pete
The Pistol often pissed his name onto the opposing teams locker rooms just like we piss our names into snow. Most of the floors had to be replaced becase of the seriousness of his piss' architectual damage.
Pistol Petes calander goes straight from the 31st March to the 2nd of April - No one fools pistol Pete.

Pistol Petes tears cure cancer - too bad he never cries.

When Pistol Pete does push ups he doesn't go up the world goes down.

When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Pistol Pete.

Pistol Pete gave Mona Lisa that smile.

Superman owns a pair of Pistol Pete pyjamas.

Pistol Pete sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looksand unparallelled rugby ability. Shortly after the transaction wasfinalized, Pete spear-tackled the devil and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should haveseen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.

The only time Pistol Pete was wrong was when he thought he had made a mistake.”

Pistol Pete only missed shots to make you think you have a chance.

Pistol Pete once scored 50 points, during halftime.

Pistol Pete's shots vaccinate against polio.

Wilt Chamberlain was Pistol Pete standing on his own shoulders.”
Pistol Pete once dunked from the free throw line in a game ... the opponent's free throw line.

Pistol Pete never checked into the game, he just walked on and off the court whenever he felt like it.

Pistol Pete didn't try to outscore the other team, he tried to outscore both teams.

Pistol Pete's hair was a lock-down defender.”
When Pistol ran suicides he didn't touch the foul line and the midcourt line, he touched I-95, I-77, I-35...
Pistol Pete once ate an orange and started crying...and Gatorade was born
Pistol Pete once put the ball through both baskets on the same shot
Pistol Pete was Mr. Miyagi's father
During the opening tip once, the pistol grabbed the ball and made a layup before it reached maximum height
Pistol Pete could throw underhand so well, he once struck out 26 batters in a slow pitch softball game.
The only guy he didn't strike out was Chuck Norris, who flew out to center”
When Pistol Pete's shot gets cold, the inside of the rim becomes a superconductor.

The Soviet Union had an answer to Reagan's star wars defense program, they collapsed because they didn't have an answer to Pistol Pete.

When Pistol Pete played for the Jazz, they saved money on halftime entertainment. Pistol Pete would just watch other teams acts on the road and do them in costume at home. In one game, Pistol Pete had 60 points, 20 assists, and 20 rebounds in the second half, after spending most of halftime escaping from an underwater tank where he could not breathe.”

Pistol Pete's statistics started the high tech boom in America by creating a demand for more powerful adding machines.

Pistol Pete could sink a 15 lb. bowling ball from half court, while lying flat on his back.

Every woman that Wilt Chamberlin slept with had been with Pistol Pete first.

Pete Maravich played a full game at lsu with a splint on his knee. He couldn't walk so he stood the whole game at half court and scored 30 pts with 20 assists and 5 steals.”
Pistol Pete could reliably hit a three from any body position while break dancing.

Pistol Pete never missed a layup, ever, in his life. The closest shot he ever missed was a 12 foot jumper. Hurricane Camille was hitting Louisiana with 130 mph winds but Pete insisted on practicing on the outdoor court. He also missed a half court shot that day, after spending a few hours shooting.

Pistol Pete once beat Bruce Lee in a martial arts fight. Pete knocked him out with an unorthodox two handed push to the forehead. Only his fingertips touched Lee.”
pistol pete was ready before spaghetti
Pistol Pete wasn't named after a gun, guns were named after him.

When Pistol Pete ran the floor, he never traveled any distance, the distance traveled for him.

Pistol Pete didn't have ice water in his veins, your cooler has Pete's blood.”
Pistol Pete averaged 39 points and 18 dimes one season, after he retired.

The season after Pistol Pete was traded from the Jazz... He still led them in scoring.

Pistol Pete once outscored the opposing team for an entire game, at the tip off.

Pistol Pete didn't drink water during time outs, he drank souls.

Pistol Pete's socks led the league in assists.”

The reason why the 3 point line was not invented after Pistol Pete was because he would average 70 points a game

To make a great branch of steroids you need Hennessy, Cocaine, and Pistol Pete's Blood.

Pistol Pete can play and finish quarter averaging 40 points, 10 boards and 12 assists

Pistol Pete is the legitimate father of Kobe, Lebron, Chris Paul, and Michael Beasly

During the 1980 Summer Olympics the US didn't go because Pistol Pete coached the Yugoslavia team. We call that "intelligent" warfare”

Pete Maravich is most known for destroying Dick Vitale blood vessels in his neck from saying "It's Awesome BABY!"

A Pistol Pete crossover would end Shaun Livingston's life.

Pistol Pete could win a championship with three cardboard players and Gumby on his side with the 07 08 Miami Heat on the bench”
A Pistol Pete crossover would break the ankles of the entire opposing team

Pistol Pete can make a shot while double fisting beers in the owner's box

Pistol Pete is so Christ-like, a 5 year old can walk onto a D-1 team after watching his youtube instructional videos

Pistol Pete can score 40 while walking on his hands and shooting with his feet”
Any guy who had to guard Pistol Pete would become so negative that if he were in a darkroom he'd develop.

Pistol Pete never learned how to follow his own shot because he never missed any.

A spinning, no-look, between the legs bounce pass from Pistol Pete ended world hunger.

Pistol Pete brushed his teeth with brillo pads and flossed with razor blades.

Pistol Pete used to fill his jock with week-old crullers because that's how he rolls.”

Pistol Pete's homework basketball videos led the NBA in scoring and assists in 1988.

Pistol Pete wants everyone to know that he let Jerry West be the logo

Pistol Pete solved Tupac and Biggie's murders. He just doesn't want to tell you who did it.

Pistol Pete could beat Tiger Woods in a golf tournament. Nah...just kidding.”

pistol pete didn't need his team mates, his team mates needed him

pistol pete was always on fire, he caused heat waves.

his shooting was so hot, he ended the cold war.

he could dribble a bowling ball better than Skip to My Lou would handle the basketball.

pistol pete doesn't climb mountains, mountains bow down to him.

pistol pete was so good, everyone around him looked so bad.

he'd score so much points, the scorer often lost count.

his numbers were so outrageous, nobody today would've believed pistol pete was white.
to post 84: pistol pete is so good, he'll shoot a basketball in a golf hole...using a golf CLUB! 'nuff said, pete pawns the tiger”

I heard once that Pistol Pete went up for a layup that started in Times Square and he landed somewhere around Beijing, thus creating the Chinese Basketball Association.

Pistol Pete never used a gun when hunting, he spit out lead bullets and crapped Titanium-another reason they call him the Pistol.

The Army wanted to recruit the Pistol because they knew then they really could be an Army of one.

Someone once asked Pistol Pete what he thought about racism in America, he answered "I pity them racist fools" Shortly after Mr. T changed it to "I pity the fool" The royalties he got on the quote were amazing.

Pistols socks were tight when he put them on, but he was so silky smooth they instantly changed to silk and slid down, thus the floppy look.

Pistol Pete didn't really die, he had started playing ball again as a black man named Michael Jordan. The NBA decided they better kill off the Pistol before the Government started looking into it. The Pistol transcended race, gender, and time.”

For fun Pistol Pete would do his crossover in front of pregnant ladies causing the disease we now know as polio

Pistol Pete was with Moses as he was escaping from the egyptians, when faced with the red see he did a single crossover breaking the sees ankles and causing it to split.

Strangley enough in jeopardy you can answer all the questions with who is Pitol Pete”

God originally asked Noah to teach people about Pistol's arc, but Noah was too big a fool to comprehend its perfection.

Many of today's NBA players still receive assists from Pistol Pete.

By counteracting a patient's body tremors, Pistol Pete could cure Parkinson's.

Pistol Pete's cross over cause the Leaning Tower of Pisa.”

When pistol pete heard people calling Jordan the G.O.A.T he rose from the grave and entered Jordan's nightmare as a monstrous basketball player crossing his airness and blocking him for hours Jordan later chronicled this ordeal in his critcally aclaimed "Space Jam"

When athletes make amazing plays time seems to slow down as God watches there acrobatic stunts in slow motion when Pistol Pete does time goes backwards as God continously rewinds his breathtaking drives causing what we now know as Deja Vu.

Pistol Pete's amazing leaps allowed him to break the space time continum. At the age of Forty he jumped and was transported to broke to 2008 where he saw the pitiful fate of the LSU basketball program, this is the real cause of his sudden heart attack. ”

Chuck Norris once challenged Pistol Pete to a 1 on 1 game. That was last time anyone had ever seen Chuck Norris
Pistol Pete can win a 7-game series in 3 games.
Pistol Pete's granny invented the granny shot.

Pistol Pete ate white chocalate and pooped out jason williams.
Pistol Petes blood is made of dimes
Pistol Pete is raefer alstons father
Pistol Pete can dribble with his penis
Pistol Pete did a crossover and went back in time and brought back chris kaman
Pistol Pete already knows how lebrons career is gonna go because hes already witnessed.
Pistol Pete is a decendant of zues
Pistol Petes crossover killed the dinasours
Pistol Petes crossover broke pangea apart.
Pistol Pete had such good vision he found america first.
Pistol Petes sweat makes gatorade
Pistol Pete went to medical school with Dr.J and the Professor
Pistol Petes jumpshot killed JFK
Pistol Pete proved white men can jump by jumping over the moon”

Pistol Pete was given the nickname “Pistol” because he carried a revolver in his gym shorts to intimidate opposing teams during shoot arounds. He once shot a man for double dribbling.

The Pistol shot over 66% from the 3 point line when it was introduced into the NBA while eating a ham sandwich with his other arm.

The Harlem Globetrotters only have 3 losses in over 15,000 games played. Two of those were solely at the hands of Pistol Pete when he was on the JV squad in high school (103 to 79 and 97 to 96...he had the flu in that one).”

Pistol Pete’s crossover was so filthy he had to get a tetanus shot.

Pistol Pete’s crossover was so good only Stuart Scott could see how he did it.

Pete noticed a flaw in wilt's delivery from the line before his 100-point game, when he went 28-32 from the stripe. He also had 35 assists in the game before going back to being a gleam in his pappy's eye.

Pete figured out a way to make his '67 Nova run on seawater, and was the go to guy for Red Auerbach's Cubans.

Pete got his handles from a seance with Black Jesus and the Houdini of the Hardwood, and gave his top secret hangover cure to Hot Rod Hundley.”

pistol pete once won an nba championship and got the #1 pick for his team. his team re-drafted him.

"pistol pete, why are you so awesome? you're the reason that i'm proud to be from louisiana" is what karl malone recites during every free throw.

in a best of 7 playoff series, pistol pete once came back from a 3-0 deficit to win the series 5-2.

when wilt scored 100 points, pistol pete tallied the assists.”

Pistol Pete was so good that his shadow was the runner up for National Player of the Year.....Three years after he left college.

Pistol Pete could touch MC Hammer.
The framers of the constitution gave Pistol Pete 13/8 of a vote.
Every time Pistol Pete steps on a crack, he breaks someones backboard.
Pistol Pete could turn water into gatorade, and when he played, gatorade had not been invented yet.”

Pistol Pete is called Pistol because he once killed a man with an out of control bounce pass.....

Pistol Pete's jumpshot created the baby boom of the 60's...women got turned on every time pistol hit them jumpers

Pistol Pete and Chunck Norris once played a game of one on one and no winner is yet to be named....earthquakes are the result of this epic game.....

Pistol Pete's crossover is the reason for the emergency system tests on TV.....”
Pistol Pete was such a fast, sharp, passer, that in a champion ship game he once cracked the time barrier, giving the ball to the newest sensation at center, Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln converted the two, securing Pete's assist, but failed to convert the foul shot, enraging assistant coach Booth

North Dakota Livin'

Rod Benson — 2008-04-03T15:26:14-07:00

BTGOM: March

Rod Benson — 2008-04-02T15:25:23-07:00

Top 5 Arcade Games

Rod Benson — 2008-04-02T15:13:26-07:00

See more funny videos at CollegeHumor

So I watched this video, which is awesome, and it reminded me of Street Fighter at the arcade. I remember the days when every arcade game cost a quarter. Well a quarter soon became fifty cents. Fifty cents soon became 75. Games went from 2-D joystick fun to sit down, stand up, Wii style action. You need a coddamn pre-paid card just to play anything anymore. I digress.

I started thinking about the best arcade games. I started thinking about all the classics. It lead me to one conclusion: that I needed to list them so you could help me reminisce about the best of the best. I decided that maybe I should do a list anyway because there are a lot of TMRB list worthy things out there. So, this will be the first list. The top 5 arcade games of all time are:

5: Pac Man

Since I'm 23 years old, people were playing Pac Man at the arcade before I knew how to spell arcade. I'm pretty sure this is my mom's favorite game, which just goes to show that Pac Man brings generations together. I honestly think she is better than me at it. I have a terrible habit of getting the coddamn power pellets too early because I'd panic if a ghost got too close.

4: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles The Arcade Game

I'm not sure, but I think this was the first game to have four person co-op action. Whether it was or wasn't, it was still the first game to teach children all about dangerous weapons, genetics, The Renaissance, and pizza. Donatello had the long range, but slower attacks. Leonardo had the flashy sword and a non-nonsense style, while Raph and Mikey were quick and ruthless. If you got hurt, all you needed was a slice of Pizza to get you going again. If you got really hurt, you might need to find that whole pizza to save the day. Got 3 friends and 4 quarters? Take on the foot in this epic arcade game. Dont forget some extra quarters because a continue or two will be necessary to keep all four together.

3: NBA Jam

Left, Right, A, B, B, A. Left, Right, A, B, B, A. That was the code I always entered to get the full court dunks going on my SNES. The arcade version was different though. Still, you wanna talk about a great game. The graphics son!? The graphics!? No way did they have real looking faces on these players. Three makes in a row and you're on fire. Want to play as the Vancouver Grizzlies? Then it looks like you've gotta hook up with Shareef Abdur Raheem and "Big Country" Bryant Reeves. No MJ on this bad boy, but you could take BJ Armstrong and Scotty to the top if you knew what you were doing. In fact, why not enter a code and play as Frank Thomas (Chicago White Sox) and pair him with scotty. Game, set, match, bitch.

2. Street Fighter II

This may have been the first game to try to bring together all of the worlds cultures, only to have them beat the $#!T out of each other. Take it to Brazil with Blanka, keep it sexy with the Spanish flair Vega brought to the table, or fight the good fight with Guile. The odd the thing about this game was that you very rarely fought in the street. If you were Guile, you fought in front of a ship which I always referred to as the "USS Beat Down." Blanka fought in front of his jungle home. Vega was a straight up cage match waiting to happen.

Street Fighter II was the first and only game that I could never win. My Hadukens were too weak. My E-Honda fast hands were too slow. My Blank electrocution move always left me assed-out. Still, this game was so hot, they turned into a movie starting Jean Claude Van Damme. I was already inspired by Blood Sport, but then he did this, taking Street Fighter to the next level.

1: Mortal Kombat II

I still remember the day I first discovered Mortal Kombat. The fat kid that my brother was friends with had a GameBoy and brought it over one day when I was 8 years old. Next thing I know, I'm at the Arcade wasting the quarters I took from the couch trying to perfect my moves.

As good as Street Fighter was, Mortal Kombat was even better. Street Fighter proved to be conservative and dry compared to Mortal Kombat. Blood was everywhere, and fatalities changed the game forever. And let's not forget about those graphics son! The graphics!

There was no internet back then, so the only way to know about the fatalities was to buy the official Prima strategy guide. After my friend got that guide, we picked our characters based on how solid the fatalities were. Mortal Kombat introduced fatalities, but what people tend to forget about MKII is that there were now "Friendships" and "Babalities." Babalities were really, really lame, but Friendships, if executed with the right character were nothing short of amazing. I hated playing as Johnny Cage, but if I did, and I won, please believe I was gonna friendship your ass in a heartbeat. The deep voiced announcer would say "Friendship! Friendship!" Then Johnny would whip out a photo of himself, autograph it, and display it so that your opponent could know that there were no hard feelings and that you could still be a fan and a friend.

HONORABLE MENTION:

Donkey Kong, Centipede, Dance Dance Revolution, Tekken, Space Invaders, The Simpsons.

This is my list, if you think youve got a better one, don't hesitate to put it out there in comment form. Hollar.

Boom Tho Girl of the Month: February

Rod Benson — 2008-02-21T15:11:04-08:00

Due to busyness on my end, I'm a little late on the new Boom Tho Girl of the month. I had planned to coordinate the "Boom Tho Girl" video with the Feb. GOTM (Girl of the Month), but sadly, I have been overwhelmed with All-Star stuff and Yahoo!

Anyways, first things first. Thanks to everyone who emailed Julia Allison my behalf. To be honest, I emailed her on my behalf as well. Somewhat surprisingly, she responded to me. Wanna know what she said? Good, I thought so:

Hi Rod!!

You're a bundle of joy. Thanks for making me a Boom Tho Girl I
will put
it in my official biography, for sure.

A lot of people forwarded that link to me, actually - with really
positive
comments about you!! You have a ton of fans

God, could I use any more emoticons in this email?? I've been up all
night
working and am more than a little loopy!!

Anyway, I think you're fabulous!

Xo
julia

Let's take a moment to analyze what just happened here. I'll go sentence by sentence.

"You're a bundle of joy" -- She is already calling me her baby. Good sign.

"Thanks for making me a Boom Tho Girl I will put it in my official biography for sure" -- She wants to let our love unfurl.

"A lot of people forwarded that link to me, actually -- with really positive comments about you!! You have a ton of fans" -- Peer pressure got to her, it would seem.

"God, could I use any more emoticons in this email?? I've been up all night working and am more than a little loopy!!" -- She has been uncontrollably winking and smiling all night because of me.

"Anyway, I think you're fabulous!" -- She thinks I would be the perfect father for her children, obviously.

Now that that's done, it's time to introduce the new Boom Tho GOTM. I guess I'll start with a story about her because I actually know this one, or knew her back in the day.

When I was in high school, I wasn't very big time at all. I was actually a ridiculously late bloomer as evidenced here in this very good retelling of my high school days. I always had a kind of attitude that allowed me to lie to myself and think that I was something more than I was, and that helped me to where I am now. I never settled for what I was supposed to settle for.

That being said, girls weren't exactly a different story. I could have maybe gotten with some of the riff raff (you know what I mean), but I always aspired to get with the girls that were way out of my league. Well, like Seth in "Superbad", I was fatefully partnered with a certain girl for autoshop class. She was easily one of the best looking girls out of the 3200 students at Torrey Pines High and for some reason she was partnered with me.

Needless to say I was happy to be have an opportunity to show my charisma and charm on a daily basis. We changed oil and rotated tires. We laughed about how useless most of the work was and preferred to do most our assignments on her BMW rather than on my 88 Cadillac Coupe DeVille.

I felt like we were flirtatious enough at the time for me to possibly turn a corner. You gotta understand that a facebook poke didn't exist back then, so I was gonna have to do something else if I wanted to get her to go to prom with "just enough Rod Benson". I, being the computer nerd I was (this was before computer nerds were fashionable), made a "Will you go to prom with me?" website that I was going to show her during lunch. I knew she'd say yes because I was the man.

Well, I walked her into the library where the computers were, but before we reached the computer area, the second bell rang. The second bell meant get your ass to class or else.

"What were you going to show me anyway?" she asked me.

"I'll show you later, don't worry," I responded.

Lunch ended, class began, and dreams were shattered. Right after school she was asked by somebody else. That same day I was so close, but ousted by the second lunch bell.

We continued our flirtatious ways during class and when we graduated, we agreed to meet up in LA when I played UCLA. She said she was gonna go up there to be a model. Three weeks after graduation her phone number changed and we didn't speak again.

Two years later, I was watching TV and this commercial came on:

I kept telling people things like "I used to change her oil, if you know what I mean," I don't think they even believed it in the literal way I meant it. I guess she ended up being pretty big time doing whatever it was she was doing.

So, since it's my site and I can do whatever I want with whatever I want, I've decided that she will be the second Boom Tho GOTM. Her name is Callie Garrison, and a long time ago I rotated her tires, if you know what I mean. Like I took the tires off her car and put them back on is what I mean. Now she has a boyfriend and all that, so she's not exactly ready like spaghetti. Still, she's the Old Spice girl and I'm the leader of the Boom Tho movement. Guess, I'm still a computer nerd, but it's fashionable now.

Is it O.K.?

Rod Benson — 2008-02-20T15:09:06-08:00

This is very simple. I am going to ask a question, then tell the story behind it, then ask the question again. Is it O.K.?

1. Is it O.K. to bump someone with your elbow while on an airplane?

I was flying somewhere recently. Since I was on the inside and there was very little room, the arm rest of lifted up. What this meant was that the guy next to me was already rubbing shoulders with me for the entire flight. I guess that's how it goes.

Well, I fell asleep and I woke up to elbow bumping me. I look over and this guy has his hands on his balls, scratching those bad boys like a coddamn scratch and sniff sticker. Guy's elbow was bumping only because of the ferocity of the ball scratch. I looked at him in the eye and waited for him to stop, but he didn't. The scratching only came to a halt when I coughed extremely loud to get his attention. Still, he didn't look like he was ashamed or sorry. He actually looked a little annoyed.

So, I ask you, is it O.K. to bump someone with your elbow while SCRATCHING YOUR BALLS on an airplane?

2. Is it O.K. to copy your friends business card?

Last year about this time, I thought it would be cool to have a business card that had the toomuchrodbenson.com on it. While trying to figure out what else to put on there, I decided on my phone number, email address, and "professional basketball player" for the work info. Still, I thought that it needed something more. It needed something that defined me and separated me from everyone else with the boring card.

JGant and I talked about it and he suggested that I use my MySpace display name: "The Renaissance Man". It was a great idea. I already go be that name on myspace, so why not add it to the card to give it a kick on hilarity? My final card said that I was a "Professional Basketball Player / Renaissance Man". It always gets a good reaction.

Well, a few months later, JGant called me and told me that his card had finally been ordered. I was excited because we hadn't talked about the card issue since I had gotten mine in the mail. I asked him what his looked like and he emailed me the preview picture.

J. Gant Renaissance Man
Boom Tho 415- XXX-XXXX

I was like "Jason, what the hell is this?"

"What you mean what is this?" he asked.

"I mean why does your card say that you are the renaissance man?"

"I couldn't figure out what to put so I just put that. It just works so well."

"Well, it's on my card too buddy. Now we are just team renaissance?"

"It's not like we will give them to the same people, Rod."

"Of course we will! We do all the same things with all the same people! This is ricodamdiculous right now."

The dialogue continued for a while, but it was too late. JGant and I now had the same title on our cards. Not just any title, but MY title, and a memorable ad distinguishable title at that. Great, just great.

So around new years when I was down in LA, the two of us went to AREA nightclub to get our party on. I got in before J and went right to the bar. The bartender was very attractive and flirtatious, so I stayed there for a long time. I ordered all my drinks from her and kept my dancing to that part of the club. Well when the night was done, I went to hand her my card, just in case you know, and she starts reading it.

"Is this a joke?" she asked me.

"No, no jokes here," I answered in my best 'get the girl' voice.

"Well, your friend, the other renaissance man, already gave me his card earlier."

I walked away. I kept walking until I found JGant.

"You gave her your card too! The coddamn renaissance man!"

"What you mean bro? The bartender? Oh yea, she said I had no chance so I just slid her the card real quick."

"No way. I did have a chance and the renaissance man thing killed it. I knew this was happen."

So, I ask you, is it ok to copy your friends business card?

3. Is it OK to act crazy in the street late at night?

The story behind this can be seen right here:

Valentines Day

Rod Benson — 2008-02-13T15:06:37-08:00

Funny MySpace Messages 9!

Rod Benson — 2008-01-24T14:44:09-08:00

You should be familiar with how these things go by now, so I won't waste effort with any kind of introduction. Let's do it...

I got this first message from a girl with the display name: "Killa K G.I.M. Double D dont f#@kin play.~$~" I took the liberty of editing her language for the curse-word sensitive...

Dec 24, 2007 7:08 AM
Flag as Spam or Report Abuse [ ? ]
Subject:
No Subject
Body:
Wat ^ wit u

When I got this message I was a little worried. I wasn't worried that I was being targeted, but I was more concerned with the fact that this could be the laziest person to ever send a message. Is it really that much more effort to type out "What's up with you?" I personally don't think so. In fact, considering you have to hit Shift + 6 to make the "^" sign, time was not actually saved. Whatever, I had no intention of replying, so it didn't matter. I wasn't even gonna write about it until I got another message on the same day.

Dec 24, 2007 8:01 PM
Flag as Spam or Report Abuse [ ? ]
Subject:
No Subject
Body:
wats good

This time I got an "s" but still no "h". Lazy bastard. Regardless, I noticed something else. This girl woke up at 7 a.m. on Christmas eve to send me a lazy ass message, then 13 hours later, on Christmas eve, she was still all caught up in Rod Benson's world and couldn't help but to send me another message. Honestly, isn't there something else she could be doing to occupy her time on Christmas eve. Maybe it was so cold outside that she spent all day inside on MySpace. Maybe not:

It's obvious that it can never be too cold for her to get outside and take a picture, so I threw the last theory out the window. Also, I never quite understood that pose. I see a lot of people do it, but I don't know why. Does her back hurt? Could she have just completed a set of squats? Is Lil' John's "Get Low" playing in the background? Maybe the camera man also doubles as a limbo judge. Who knows?

Now it was time to see what her profile was all about.

"UNTIL 4EVA IT WILL ALWAYS BE ABOUT THE SAGITTAURUS. ALL F#&KIN DAY AN ALL F@$KIN NIGHT. 24hrs A DAY N&GGAS."

Female
16 years old
GARY, Indiana
United States

Wow. Just wow. Stupid message? Strike one. 16 years old? Strike two. Ridiculous tagline? Strike three. Seriously, being a "Sagittaurus" is not that tight. But I do get the all day all night thing. She spent all day and all night trying to send me MySpace messages. Really?

Moving on..

Jan 6, 2008 10:57 PM
Flag as Spam or Report Abuse [ ? ]
Subject:
No Subject
Body:
come thru...and leave me a pix comment...preciate chu...

I guess this could be worse. It would be a safe assumption that she has many pictures that she would "preciate" a comment on. Basically all this really means is that she wants me to check her out and then leave some sort of sexy, witty comment daring her to comment on my photos as well. Her problem was that she only had one picture:

....aaaaaaannd the caption under it said:
"King Magazine Style...And I know how 2 play playstation...Madden Any1?"

I did leave a comment. Here's what it said:

Is this the picture I was supposed to comment on? I love Madden as much as anybody, but chances are good someone would have to look at you in the face while you play, unless you can see through your ass and control with your feet.

Honestly, I guess we've come to a point where people think an ass with playstation abilities is perfectly fine. Anybody who sees a playstation playing ass on myspace and pursues it has serious, serious issues.

Well, I guess there could be worse things. You could have this as your main pic:

and then you could send me this:

Jan 9, 2008 8:23 PM
Flag as Spam or Report Abuse [ ? ]
Subject:
No Subject
Body:
hello . . .

Hello. . .? E.T. phone home? I wasn't sure what she wanted me to say back (not that I was going to send anything back anyway), but her main pic was enough for me to take a peek at her page. This was her "about me":

"i love 2 dance......it "s my life!!! only hip-hop r" &b....!!! my dream is to dance for a greate performer.....like MISSY ELLIOT,SNOOP DOG,JAY-Z,METHODMAN,EMINEM...X-ZIBIT...E.T.C!!!!!!!!!!!"

I mean, Im not in the business of shattering dreams, but sometimes you gotta realize when to let it go. If I was 4 feet tall, maybe I wouldn't want to pursue the NBA. Better yet, if I had blackened toe nails with corns and bunions on them, modeling Rainbow sandals would be very difficult. Still, I had to look at some more pictures to see if the dream could be fulfilled:

Let's ignore the fact that she took a picture while SITTING on the TOILET and examine the quest to be a back up dancer. I mean you never know, but I've been watching Snoops new show, "Fatherhood", and he had a video shoot on there. His son asked him if there would be attractive women there and Snoop replied "It's a Snoop Dogg video, what do you think?" I highly doubt his son thought about this girl.

I guess she just wanted a hello back from me, but seriously, I doubt she'll be Boom Tho girl of the month anytime soon.

Well, this is where this whole operation takes a turn. Usually I include the one or two men who sent me messages and get a laugh out of it. This time it goes to a whole 'nother level. There must be something in the air this winter that makes men just want to send messages to straight men. I got more than enough and so did Clay, my boy from Cal. I have no problem with homosexuality, but if you violate what I consider to be MySpace acceptable, male or female, I have to write it out....

I'll just start with Clay and the ridiculous men who send him messages, showing complete disregard for the "straight" label on his profile. Just absolute complete disregard.

From: I'M MARSHALL, & I'M ADDICTED 2 FASHION
Date: Dec 10, 2007 12:36 AM

U SEXY AS HELL

Guys name is "I'm Marshall and I'm Addicted 2 Fashion." Haha. I guess that's cool. I enjoy buying new gear myself, but come on. Clay doesn't need your fashion advice, especially if you think he's sexy as hell, Marshall. Clay doesn't like big girls, there's no way he'd like a big GUY.

Yes, Marshall, you are good at doing bad things on MySpace.

Then there were Zac and Robb...

From: Zac
Date: Dec 12, 2007 3:12 PM

sup sexy? how is your day going? saw you online and thought I'd say hello. holla

From: Robb..
Date: Nov 16, 2007 10:34 PM

Beautiful eyez yo!

Zac needs to quit shopping for clothes at Baby GAP. Robb looks like what Papa Smurf would look like is he was black. Both of them need to read a profile. If it says straight, then he doesn't want to hear about his eyes, and he damn sure doesn't wan't to tell you about his week. Clay has like 12,000 MySpace friends, 11,900 of them being asian women, what makes you think he would like you too?

It still only got worse for Clay:

From: Amina Da Show Girl of the Pretty Boy Empire
Date: Jan 4, 2008 3:19 AM

hi sexy

"But Rod, you said these were men sending messages, why does it say 'Show Girl'?" Funny you should ask... Her about me says the following:

"Im a female impersonater i do drag shows in long beach, i love to sing and dance and i am a real person if you ever need someone to talk to that will be me, if you need to book me for a show hit me up.. I am also a woman of God and i have a purpose on this earth and nobody can say or take that way from me. "Pray on just little a little bit while longer, and everything will be alright." PRETTY BOY EMPIRE: SHOW GIRLS WE ARE THE THE SHOW GIRLS(DRAG QUEENS) OF THE PRETTY BOY EMPIRE. WE ARE A PARTY CREW NOT AN HOUSE. WE EXSPECT RESPECT AND EXCELENCE, DETERMINATION AND SUCCESS IF YOU FEEL THAT YOU ARE A SHOW GIRL THEN HIT ME UP. IF YOU WANNA BE APART OF THE PRETTYBOY PARTY CREW HIT ME ILL DIRECT YOU THE THE EMPIRE MAIN HEAD."

So I guess this is just how it's gonna be for clay. Gay men all over the country want him. When you consider how many messages he gets, then the 1% homosexual rate isn't all that bad. Still, I don't know how many people click "New Messages!" expecting to see a cross dresser, and then read the message "Hey Sexy."

Well, I still think mine takes the cake in this bunch. See, I've heard from women that guys just can't take a hint, but I've never had to deal with it, really. I just laugh comments like that off. Now I understand a little better:

For starters, I was a little confused by the display name "Back off boys dis d*ck and booty belong to Marco", especially since it came with this message:

Subject: you have a gorgeous smile
Body:
holla at me

There is already so much wrong with this picture. I've never heard someone stake claim their outgoing AND incoming parts before. I laughed so hard when I thought about this. Then, he clearly says "Back off boys" but then actively pursues boys. Then I felt sorry for Marco, whoever he is. Then, I was extremely grossed out by the whole thing. I was certainly NOT going to holla at him. I don't play for the visitors, if you know what I mean. Well, of course you know what I mean. I like women hahaha.

Well, I didn't reply, of course. Not long after I got this:

Nov 13, 2007 5:58 AM
Subject:
No Subject
Body:
hey cutie!!!! holla at me sexy

Guess I was downgraded from gorgeous to cute and sexy, or was that upgraded? I don't know, but since Tyra Banks didn't say it, I wasn't interested. No reply again.

Subject: No Subject
Body:
holla at me sexy

Nope, still nothing...

Subject: No Subject
Body:
how come u dont respond to my messages?

Seriously dog, you can't figure this one out? Not gay not gay not gay! Why the hell else would I not? There are two possibiliies: either I'm not gay, or you're just ugly. Stop now. Stop dog. Just stop. Still, I didn't reply. Didn't want to give him any ammunition.

Subject: No Subject
Body:
HOW R U TODAY? DID I DO SOMETHING TO UPSET U CUZ YOU HAVENT BEEN ANSWERING ANY OF MY MESSAGES?

This guy has got to be kidding. He is talking to me like I owe him something. He's talkin to me like I KNOW him. I should be upset by now because I am obviously doing something so gay on my page that he refuses to buy any other circumstance. Luckkkyyyy for me this was the last one. I still do think I have a homosexual stalker. He's probably googled me. He could be reading this right now. If he is, I hope he has learned something. If someone doesn't say gay, don't get mad when they are polite enough to just not answer. I know people who fight over this stuff. He's lucky I'm a passivist.

I know you wanna see what this guy looks like. I've been saving it for a reason. First, take a look at his profile info (edited once again):

"Im a freak between the sheets....love licking booty
Who I'd like to meet:
Just any body that is willing to be my friend; I don't need no hata's on my sh*t cause fake mothaf**ka's can sucka d*ck I'm the trillest gonna always be reppin my game making all my ghetto hood fame cause n*ggas know about. Me it doesn't matter where you from if your just curious its understandable cause I love all people I'll except you for being your self...!"

Does this even need analysis? Nope. I will say that it is crazy that someone would have a public profile and say that they "love licking booty." Maybe that's just me. Well, on to the pictures. I've never laughed so hard at a picture:

Really? Really? Dude is straight up smiling into the water as it falls into his face. As a reader of TMRB, you have now officially seen it all. What was crazy was that this picture had like 80 comments on it including these:

from Elijah:
Damn I wish I were a drop of that water.

from "Just Me":
let me lick u all over

from "Lil Shaun":
I'll dry u off but then your gonna have to dry me off cause your making me wet

Really son? You are a man! You don't get wet! I spent an honest 10 minutes just laughing at all of the comments on this, the funniest photo I've seen on MySpace.

Well, that wraps up Funny MySpace #9. Until next time...

Oh yea, guy has to dry off, right?

Elijah:
You missed a spot...Let me get it for you.

OF COURSE!

The Rockumentary

Rod Benson — 2008-01-16T14:43:02-08:00

Boom Tho Girl of the Month

Rod Benson — 2008-01-11T14:35:06-08:00

Lately I've been thinking about something. Jenna Fischer is a great woman to have as number 4 of the Boom Tho movement, but lets be realistic, she may be just a tad too big time. I mean, let's face it, I can't even get into an L.A. nightclub when I'm TRYING to buy a table. What makes me think I have the social clout to entertain Jenna Fischer?

Well, these thoughts led me to a new idea. I figure that Jenna Fischer is THE Boom Tho girl forever, like the numero uno all the time, but maybe there are other girls out there who are big time, but hopefully not too big time to respond to an email or a myspace message or something. Maybe I can list a girl who may lead a lifestyle that could lead to us meeting up one day. Is that so crazy?

I came to this conclusion one day while I was browsing the Yahoo! home page. I always look at the latest news topics and try to find stories that interest me. On this day there was a relationship article right on the front page. I think it said something about why good looking women get with ugly men. I wondered the same thing. I figured I could click on the article and learn something I didn't know. Well, when I clicked on the article, I noticed immediately who wrote it: Julia Allison. Normally it's guys like this who write these articles, but not this time.

I immediately had to find out who this girl was. Her bio said to check out her blog, JuliaAllison.com so I did. Right then I decided that she needed to be a boom tho girl. The more I found out about her writing, her T.V. correspondent work, and the fact that she dressed up as a Rubik's cube for halloween, I knew that somehow I had to make room for her on TMRB and recognize her for being an all around big time individual.

So, without further adieu, I introduce Julia Allison as the first Boom Tho girl of the month. I figure maybe I'll send her a boom tho shirt or something (oh yea, if you're looking for a shirt, I have been told they will be here in the next week...we'll see) to show how highly she is regarded. I mean, she writes for yahoo, I write for yahoo. She has a blog, I have a blog. She is on T.V., I watch T.V. I feel like this could go somewhere. If only there was like a yahoo office building. Then I could be Jim and she could be Pam and we could be good. Maybe that's just wishful thinking.

Sometimes The Night Aint Right

Rod Benson — 2008-01-08T14:32:59-08:00

I was at Buck's again walking around as usual. It was like a Wednesday or something so there was almost nobody there. I walked around with a dazed look on my face for a little while. Finally my dazed look turned into one that said "I've given up for tonight." I started thinking about whether I was going to play Madden or Halo when I got home when someone interrupted my thought process.

"Don't look at me," some girl yelled from the middle of the dance floor. My eyes refocused as I came out of my day dream. I was looking at her, completely accidentally. It hit me then that she was not worth looking at. I hate to say it, but she was just not attractive at all. She came at me with the don't look at her bit and yet I would just as quickly come back at her with the same line.... So I did.

"What?! How about you don't look at me?" I fired back. Both of us got our wish.

5 minutes later I was still there, waiting for the place to pick up a little bit. Another girl walked up to me and told me there was something on my shirt. She pointed her finger towards my chest at the spot. I looked down and sure enough her finger came up into my face like we were in third grade. Seriously. While she was playfully laughing, I walked away. No way was I going to stand for such games.

Now it really was time to leave. I started heading towards the door when someone grabbed my hand. I turned around and looked down to see a 60 year old woman looking back up at me. Maybe she wasn't 60, but coddamn she was old regardless.

"Do you want to dance?" she asked me.

The night had already been ridiculous enough in the last 30 minutes, I guess I could at least dance one song with her to be nice.

"Sure. Why not?"

She walked me over to the dance floor. I grabbed her hands and proceeded to dance with her like anyone would dance with a woman 3 times their age. I danced with her like she was my grandmother. Straight up ball room dance style. I don't really know the waltz, but this was as close as I could get to waltz style dancing.

Granny and I continued this style for a couple minutes, then, out of nowhere, she turned around and attempted to break me off like a 50 Cent video girl. I rarely ever feel ashamed on the dance floor, but this was an exception. I couldn't believe this old woman was doing this. I especially couldn't believe she was doing this to ME. After my shock wore off, I turned and walked away from the dance floor. It was just too much.

She followed me and grabbed my hand again.

"Please please please dance with me for another song. Please?"

Now was the real decision time. It was obvious that she wanted more than a dance now. There was no way I was going to do anything more than dance, and I definitely had no intention of dancing like that. Why head back out there with her? What would I have to gain?

Right then I threw my camera to my teammate and told him to record what was about to happen. I decided I would dance so ridiculously and at such an absurd pace that she couldn't handle it. I figured I could always watch the video and laugh at the most seductive dancing that will ever occur between myself and someone with an AARP card. Well, at least until I have my own card if you know what I mean.

We headed back over to the dance floor. Right before we started up again, she slipped a piece of paper with her phone number on it into my hand. Gross. That almost stopped me, but I looked over at my teammates who assured me that the show must go on. It did:

How old is too old these days? I mean there has always been a kind of man fantasy to get the older girl, but seriously, this is way too old. The fact that she thought it was O.K. was ridiculous. The fact that I went along with it was preposterous. The fact that nobody there found it unusual is almost upsetting. Either way I skipped right out to the van and left right after the display. I've been told that she then gave her number to another guy on my team. Gross. Just gross.

I'll Get You Sooner or Later

Rod Benson — 2007-12-30T14:27:58-08:00

My friend Stephanie sells commercial real estate over the phone. I guess her company is supposed to be the largest online yada yada commerical whatever you get the point. Stephanie constantly tells me about how hard her job is because people will consistently berate her because Americans don't really appreciate tele-marketers. I guess she has to call these people up and spark their interest in commercial real estate, but she deals with obscene language, and people who say they will call her back, but never do. I've heard it from her time and time again.

Stephanie on the right

Well, I told her I would call in and pretend to be one of these difficult individuals and just basically give her a hard time. I told her that I would mask my voice and do my best to give her trouble on a day when she would least expect it. I first called about 3 months ago. I tried to do a southern accent, unfortunately she knew my voice and she had caller I.D. on her work phone, so my efforts were thwarted.

A couple weeks ago I had a great idea. I decided I would get her by having my Trinidadian teammate call her using his caribbean accent and his 917 area code phone. What you are about to see is the video of him calling her company one morning and talking with an unprepared Stephanie. Notice how he switches from using his accent to talking perfect english just to be more confusing. He even says my name as a reference, but she still can't figure it out:

She promptly called him back and continued to be very confused:

She later told me that she was crying tears of relief when she found out that it was all a prank. Seriously. Even after I picked up she still didn't know what was going on. I had to calm her down. All I have to say is that when I say I'm gonna get you, I'll get you.

Best of the Worst

Rod Benson — 2007-12-30T14:26:06-08:00

It's very tough to get me angry. I pretty much find the funny side to everything in life. So even when someone comes at me with the utmost disrespect I laugh it off. That being said, I figured I would relay a couple things that have been said to me that I find hilarious.

At a house party:

I was at a small gathering at a house next door to my apartment socializing when someone said "I could, but it's so big and hard". I don't know what they were talking about, but I, of course, said "that's what she said". I always say it because it always works. Well, also because Michael Scott is my hero.

Anyway, some guy who I DIDN'T know interrupted the mild laugher of the room and said "you know he always says that right? Like he didn't make that up or anything".

I looked at him and thought to myself that he just addressed the room as if I wasn't standing right in front of him. Then I realized that I didn't know him at all. Then I said "I mean, yea I do. It always works".

"Right. I get it", he said back.

Hilarious. I wasn't even mad. I was more impressed that he had the balls to come at me like that not knowing exactly how crazy I could be. I could be a psycho who fights for no reason. Luckily I'm not. Besides he was actually right. I do say that all the time.

Yahoo! Hilarity:

Ever since I started posting on Yahoo! I have noticed a difference in the blog comments. See, people come here because they want to read what I have to say. Yahoo! readers are people who could care less sometimes so their comments can reflect their lack of Rod Benson support.

One recent comment had me laughing so hard. I was writing about what makes a good fan, which was a complete joke in the first place, and this guy said that my #4 (sober up) was once violated by me:

"in regards to #4 I was personally at the Cal @ UCLA football game in 2005 where an injured and intoxicated Rod Benson was talking way too much trash in line to enter the Rose Bowl. Not only does that violate rule #4, but he was heckling some 5'2'' blonde sorority girls who, also intoxicated, naturally returned the banter. Offended, the 6'10'' Benson thought it was a personal attack and actually approached the girls face-to-face (or as close as possible) as if wanting to make the argument physical. I literally had to hold this chump back while he was pelted with wrappers and water bottles for making such a fool out of himself. What a hypocrite... I hope he never makes the league. oh and I failed to mention that I am a Cal fan too... and he was always a chump. He did nothing for the Bears."

Hahahahahahaha. Mann. First of all I even say in the post that I AM NOT A GOOD FAN. I can't be a hypocrite. Regardless, none of it is serious. The best part of this is that what he said is somewhat true. On my 21st birthday (of course I drank that day, actually the most I ever had in 24 hours) I went to watch a Cal-UCLA football game. While entering the game from the UCLA ticket entrance (my tickets would only allow for this entrance), I decided to help a couple of Cal fans who were in the back of the line cut up to the front with me. The girl was mad that I helped them cut and started yelling me. I came back at her, and I'll be honest I took it real far, but it ended quickly, I got the Cal guys in with me, and enjoyed the game until we lost. Nobody threw anything at me, nobody was going to fight, and I can bet with 99% certainty that this guy couldn't hold me back if I did need holding back. People only get held back when they want to. As if I would hit a girl anyways. I honestly believe that the guy who wrote this was one of the cal fans I helped cut in line, which would be hilarious. If not, then oh well.

It's really funny that he would hope I never make the NBA. People only have so many hopes in life and one of his hopes is that I have no success? Mann my hopes include but are not limited to: meeting Jenna Fischer, playing an NBA game, getting the #1 Madden ranking, and earning a spot on "The Real World". I can only assume his hopes include: the failure of Rod Benson, world domination, maybe even unlimited pornographic website access. Plus, it's so funny that I am a chump now, but I would be there were many opportunities for him to call me a chump at Cal. Oh well. College is a funny place. That's why I loved it so much.

Why I Hate Rod Benson:

To be honest, the first blog I ever read was titled "Why I Hate Rod Benson". It was my senior year at Cal and some girls on the track team came to me and said that a guy on the track team had a website about why he hated me. Naturally, I went and checked it out as soon as I could. I thought it was pretty funny too. He called me goofy repeatedly and said that I had a crush on his girlfriend (not true, but obviously the real reason for the whole thing), but cited a very specific incident as the main reason.

He said that one night at a party, he was changing the party music on the computer when a cup of beer hit him in the head. When he turned around to see what happened "who did [he] see running out the door? Rod Motha$#%$n Benson". Oh man I nearly pissed my pants when I read this stuff. I remember it all so clearly and it was funny then too. Someone was mad that this guy was changing the music so they threw a full cup of beer on him. I was laughing so hard at the situation that I knew I would be the most conspicuous person there, so I tried to leave before I was framed with a crime I didn't commit. Alas, I was still framed.

Well, there are two things I will never do that he claims I did. I will never waste a beer. There are too many sober kids in India. I will also never throw liquid near a computer. I love computers far too much to see them damaged by a Pabst Blue Ribbon.

Poem Game Pt 2

Rod Benson — 2007-12-17T14:22:26-08:00

Sometimes you want more than just a meal. Sometimes you need a little spice in your life. Sometimes you need to play the poem game. A place like Ft. Wayne, Indiana can have that affect on you. Maybe it's the blistering cold, or the wind that makes in colder. Maybe it's the four day roadtrip that makes you glad to get back to Bismarck, but somewhere along the way you get real hyped for some poem game.

Before I begin, I want to make it perfectly clear that these poems are not copyrgithed or anything. Steal these, rewrite em, use em. Why not? If I help someone out there discover their gift of charm and use it to thier advantage, great. Nothing would delight me more!

Now, where was I? Oh yea. So, we got to IHOP a couple of days ago for a game day breakfast. I am personally a fan of the Rooty Tooty meal, so I ordered one. You know the Rooty Tooty. 2 eggs, 2 bacon, 2 suasage, 2 ham slices, hash browns and 2 fruit covered pancakes. So sweet and delicious. While waiting for my food, I decided that I would try my hand at the poem game. I mean, success was not really the goal here, but entertainment was at a premium so I decided to give it a go. I asked our server for a pen and got to work.

Here's what I came up with:

Last night I stepped off the plane
In a random place called Ft. Wayne

Then at breakfast I saw a beautiful dame
And tried to read her Ihop nametag for a name

Like my Rooty Tooty you look so sweet
The type of girl I'd like to meet

Just like the breakfast on my tray
You could be the most important part of my day

We're here to play hoops, our game's tomorrow
And I'll surely be filled with sorrow

If I gave you tickets to the game -- to go
And you turned them down with a quick 'no!'

Come to our game tomorrow?

I asked our server to hand it to one of the other servers as two of my teammates looked on. We were all giddy to see what would happen. At the very least entertainment was sure to follow.

Our server handed it to the target who we clearly heard say "No way!"

We then watched closely as she read it and smiled and laughed. We continued to watch as she invited EVERY SINGLE EMPLOYEE in the building over to take a read. Seriously, she even had the cooks come out of the kitchen to gander at the poem. The whole show and tell process took a good ten minutes. We were starting to become impatient.

Finally, our server returned with a little note and handed it to me.

"I can't I have to work! Sorry. (Heart) Staci
Good luck at your game!"

Shucks, not even a witty response. I didn't really mind it, but my teammates were annoyed by the lack of a response. They called her over to the table.

"Hold on girl. This aint how the poem game works. You gotta write a poem back," one of them chimed in.

"I'm not good at poetry though. I'm sorry," such admitted.

"Well then you gotta leave a phone number or an email address or a myspace or something."

She laughed and walked away. They still were not content though. They called her back over again. I remained silent. My entertainment was growing. I decided to just take it in.

"Look. I didn't even write it, he did. But I feel embarrsassed for him. You're just gonna be like that huh?"

She broke down and wrote on the same piece of paper as the rejection:

"myspace name trixie"

It wasn't a lot, but it was the most we were going to get out of this. We let it go and went back to the hotel where we immediately searched for and found her on myspace. I mean, why not? We were still real bored with nothing else to do. This is the message we sent:

Subject: Poem Game!!!

Message: What's going on? Sorry we came on so strong today while you were working, but sometimes I just feel compelled to write a poem.

Anyways, you should let us know whats up for tomorrow night. It's friday, and it looks like you like to go out and everything. We will definitely try to head out tomorrow so just hollar.

Also, check me out at:
http://sports.yahoo.com/nba/blog/nba_experts?author=Rod+Bens
on

Rod

After we sent this message we figured it would be the end. We would be called stalkers, which was fine, and we would go about our lives.

Well, a couple hours later I got this:

"Hey! Im actually really suprised to hear from you. Wasnt expecting that. Its okay about what happened today. Sorry if I came off mean or a bitch to you guys. We get a lot of guys come in and try to mess with you while your working n I just dont have a lot of patience for that. You guys seemed really cool though. What time is that game tomorrow because i talked to my girlfriend and if we get off work in time to go to your game, im so down to go. So I guess just lemme know whats up. I thought the poem was really sweet, so since I forgot to say thank you, thank you."

I guess in the end, the poem is always a successful tool. I mean I guess I didn't have intention of dating this girl or anything, just wanted to invite her to the game. I'm still not sure if she came or not, but we had fun on a day when no fun was to be had. I have a feeling that we will be doing this all the time.

Im Only Half of the Movement

Rod Benson — 2007-12-17T14:19:21-08:00

My teammates and I were riding through the streets of Bismarck on the way home from practice when I got a call.

I picked up the phone and said "What's up bro?"

"Bro, what's up?" was the reply.

We start every conversation the same. JGant was calling to congratulate me on a few things. What a stand up guy.

Well, sometime during the conversation, one of my teammates figured out who I was talking to.

Will Frisby interrupted my conversation. "Hold up. Is that JGant?"

"Sure is baby," I replied.

"Man you gotta ask him to sing his part of the song!"

"O.K."

I asked JGant to sing his little hook from Boom Got Them DOS! At first he was hesistant, but after some light convincing he shouted out over speakerphone: "What you think you comin to my room fo?! You already know it's BOOM THO!"

A few days later while eating dinner in Fort Wayne, Indiana, Will asked me to call JGant again. This time WIll picked up the phone and told JGant that he was a big fan. I think Will even said he was a JGant admirer.

I'm not sure how JGant responded to having his first admirer, but I don't quite think he was ready for that kind of love. He should be though. If I am going to promote the Boom Tho! movement, then he has to be ready for the big time and stay ready to give boomisms at the drop of a dime. I figured I would take the time to speed up the process.

If we were a cartoon we'd be in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I'd obviously be a combination of Leonardo and Donatello. Not only do I lead, but I also do machines (that's a fact Jack!). Clay (the DOS! camera man) would be Raphael because he is cool but rude. JGant would be Michaelangelo, the party dude.

Clay likes to call refer to us like the show Entourage. He calls me Vinny Chase. I am nowhere near that class of awesome, but it's fun to hear. It's like shooting a fade-away at the park and yelling "Jordan!". I'm not even close, but I can pretend. Clay calls himself E the manager. And JGant is a mix between Johnny Drama and Turtle.

When we all get together there is a mix of ready spaghetti, swimwear that's always in there, and we already know it's Boom Tho! Sometimes I have to sock JGant in the balls to help him out, but for the most part he is the guy that really gets the party going. He's pretty much just always gong wild. You should watch the videos again and look beyond the terrible lyrics or vocal ability and look at the man. He's one silly summabitch:

Jgant is very good at being the Michaelangelo/Johnny Drama/Turtle. As we look forward to the third video, expect JGant to have his coming out party, because I'm not going anywhere without him.

I Watch a Male Modeling Show Every Week

Rod Benson — 2007-12-11T14:18:19-08:00

I'm with 6 of my teammates. It's movie night so we all have the popcorn out watching Superbad on my 73 inch T.V. Right after the fight scene outside the random party where the guy says that his "tiger got out of the cage", I jump out of my seat and tell everyone to hold on. I grab the remote, still shocked that I almost forgot, take the T.V. off of DVD mode and put it back on cable box. I look through the channel guide until I find the Oxygen network. Boom. I set the DVR to record "Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency" which starts in 2 minutes, look around the room at the stunned faces staring back at me, then return to the movie.

My teammates didn't understand what I did. Too bad for them. I knew full well that my pants down dancing parter Christian Prelle was making his T.V. debut that night. He was selected by Janice as one of her models to headline her newly created Latin division

Rell, as he called by those who know him, was my teammate and my roommate for a year at CAL. This is the same guy who was right along side me as I went through my "I'm gonna take a megaphone with me everywhere I go just to cause a scene" phase. This is the guy who used to cook SPAM like it was some sort of delicasy. This is the same guy who was a part of my very first music video. You will never see this video because it was a valentines day video where I said sweet nothings to my then girlfriend. I will tell you that we had a line that went:

"(my part) Zero and RELL with their two breezes,
like pasta shells with the finest cheeses,
(Rell's part) when they're away it aint no fun,
like mid summer, without the sun"

Rell is the only person will literally, always challenge me for the attention of the room. However, when we combine our forces, it is always an event. Whether it's beating halo on co-op mode, watching The Hills (I call him Spencer and he hates it), or pants down dancing, we always get it done. We definitely bring out the cockiness in one another. In fact, we kind of have a credo that we took from The Sandlot: "Heroes live forever, but legends never die."

With that said, this modeling thing has given me soooo much to make fun of him for. There are so many emails going back and forth within the former CAL hoops group that involve this guy right now. I mean this is the guy who would head butt a guy who looked at him the wrong way, now he's taken on a whole new persona.

Pictures of RELL used to look like this:

Solid, right? Rell is a tough looking, party loving animal. These were the days when modeling was just a distant thought on an ambitious day. Now his pictures tend to look like this:

Notice the hair. That coddamn hair! Cmon Rell! I'm sure he didn't have to make his hair look like that, but somewhere along the way he bought it. Oh well, it got him a big time modeling gig.

You may be reading this thinking that you haven't really seen anything so bad. This is true. See, there were two before pictures, and there are two after pictures. I just need to set up the second one a little bit first. This picture was emailed to me the second it was discovered. Upon receipt, I immediately forwarded it to everyone I knew. I then proceeded to call Rell up and he didn't answer...for obvious reasons. I wouldn't answer my phone either if I discovered this:

Wow. The prices we pay for success! For starters, this picture is on a site called MEN.BGAY.COM. No way right now. No way. Then you look at this thing and you see that a guy has his head on Rell's thigh. Then you see that this guy is wearing lace underwear, which is gross. Then you see that Rell has his arm on this guys side. Then you see that that same arm is rubbing against Guy #2's balls. When he signed up for Janice Dickinson I doubt that he envisioned this picture ever being taken. Beyond that he definitely didn't think it would ever surface, but it did.

So I've built Rell up and knocked him down. Now, I'll hype him right back up. You need to watch this guys show. Seriously. I think it comes on Tuesdays at 9:30pm. If nothing else you get to see a former macho guy get naked and take funny pictures and witness the mental conflict he struggles with as he makes it big as a model. All of that, plus he hyped up the Boom Tho! movement in his Janice Dickinson profile.

To quote Rell when talking about himself: "We can't all be legends. Someone has to sit on the curb and clap as I go by."

I clap for this stuff every day.

Giving Thanks

Rod Benson — 2007-12-07T14:04:45-08:00

Have you ever spent a Thanksgiving away from every single one of your family members? I have. In fact, I've spent the last six Thanksgivings away from home. It would appear that there is no end in sight to this streak.

I've gotten used to spending holidays away from home because basketball tends to always get in the way of such occasions. Still, besides not seeing my family, I have never gotten used to eating terrible food on a day when the food should be tremendous. There's nothing like getting 88 text messages from people talking about how good their Thanksgiving food is while you're staring down at a pile of goulash.

When I was a freshman at CAL it was the worst. I didn't even own a jacket, yet here I was walking through the streets of Cleveland with Erik Bond looking for a 7/11. Actually, it was more of a backpedal because Erik Bond convinced me that walking backward helped when walking in cold, windy conditions. He was right. So here we are walking backwards in 5 degree weather with snow falling all around us searching for a place to eat...on Thanksgiving. I think I bought a couple hot dogs and some Gatorade from the local 76 gas station and that was it. Great Thanksgiving. Oh yea, and I ended up missing the Big Game (CAL v Stanford football) which just happened to be the first time CAL had won in years. Great road trip. I heard that we marched the goal posts down Bancroft Ave. Real great road trip.

This Thanksgiving started out like that one. This was my official "meal" for the day:

I know it looks real bad, but it tasted pretty decent. It was my first time ever eating Thanksgiving food at Golden Corral Buffet, but since we went as a team I made due. The point is that your meal DEFINITELY looked better than this. On Thanksgiving, this pig slop is just unacceptable.

I decided to take matters into my own hands. I needed a little part of what I'm used to. I needed some Sweet Potato Pie. I hadn't had any SPP since I was in high school and my late great grandmother made it, so I felt like I needed to do this the right way. I could have easily gone to Wal-Mart and bought a SPP from Sarah Lee, but I decided to call up moms and get the real family recipe. This is how it went:

Yee! It turned out so coddamn delicious. Just look at the deliciousness.

Ok, so I know what some people are thinking out there. You're wondering what this pie is supposed to be because it looks like the scrumptious pumpkin pie that you're used to eating. You have to be white people. Why? I don't know. I don't know when it started, but sometime long long ago, black people starting eating sweet potato pie and white people started eating pumpkin. I can't explain it. What I can tell you is that I don't know any black people who eat pumpkin pie and (considering I know thousands and thousands of white people) I know only a handful of white people that eat sweet potato. I don't want this to come off as racially insensitive, but for some reason thats how it goes. If you have never tried a sweet potato pie, give it a try. it is much sweeter and better than pumpkin, but then again, I'm biased aren't I?

Well, I figure I'll finish by telling you what I'm thankful for:

10. Colin Brickley (Not at all gay as it sounds)
9. Madden
8. 1080p HDTV's
7. Cinnamon Toast Crunch
6. The D-League
5. The Boom Tho Movement which is > Thankfulness. JK.
4. Madden
3. Short Skirts
2. Short Dresses
1. Family

We will see how Christmas goes.

Poem Game 1.5

Rod Benson — 2007-12-02T13:56:11-08:00

First things first, I guess my teammate from last time had a talk with the waitress and she told him that she had a boyfriend. They discussed her situation and decided to just be friends. Now that you have some closure on the last poem game entry, we can move forward.

This time we were all signing autographs as a team. These autograph sessions can get to be a little tedious at times, so I like to spice things up a bit. When we were almost done, the same teammate as before asked me to write another poem for him. The thing about it was that we were back at Buffalo Wild Wings, the same place where the first poem was given. I asked him who he could possibly give it to and he didnt answer. He just wanted another poem.

I sat down with my pen and paper and got to work:

Out with my team on a Tuesday night
I was caught by a beam of light

Your face was a beauty so pure
I can raise my arms because Im Sure

If you were an answer on Jeopardy
I'd say "What is stylish, smart, and sassy?"

What is naturally sunning and classy?
Who makes all other girls look trashy?

Its like you were sent from above
I'm like Alltel, come and get your love

Im drowning in my own emotion -- save me
Will you go out with me? At least say maybe!

So, I hand the poem to my teammate, eager to see who he could possibly hand it to. He walks it over to one of the rookies.

"Rook, you're gonna give this poem to one of these waitresses," he declares.

The rookie was not having it. Seriously, this guy has a look on his face like he'd had enough of the rookie games. This appeared to be the final straw. He literally just refused to give the poem to anyone. I leaned in close to him and whispered in his hear that he should just give it to the same waitress as last time and tell her it's from the same guy. The rookie loved this idea. See, neither of us knew that there had already been closure on the situation. We just figured we would rekindle old feelings and keep the fun going.

Rookie got up and walked the poem over to her. I saw her reaction and thought she was feeling it. My other teammate saw what happened and put 2 and 2 together real quick.

"Are you guys serious right now? I thought he was gonna give it to someone else not give it to her and say it was from me. That's messed up man."

I chimed in as best I could while laughing hysterically. "What's the problem? She's feeling it!"

"No. We talked it out. She has a man and a kid. We gotta go."

We all ran out, got in the vans and left. We have yet to return to Wild Wings.

Look out for the next edition of the poem game.

Im Really Good at the Internet

Rod Benson — 2007-12-01T13:54:13-08:00

I think I am becoming an internet champion. What is an internet champion? Funny you should ask. I actually just made it up 30 seconds ago. An internet champion is always winning--at the internet. Simply put, I am most likely better at it than you.

I am just plain winning at the internet. My MySpace is championship calibre. My Facebook is real hot right now. My blog is rated number 1. Solid yes, but there are four more internet related things that I can't help but be dominant at:

Wyld Stallions:

The "Wyld Stallions" are the members of my fantasy football team. After a 2-3 start, the stallions have run off 7 straight and have already clinched a playoff birth. What makes the Stallions so Wyld? I manage them. Drew Brees, Brian Westbrook, Braylon Edwards, Wes Welker, and Hines Ward all contribute to my complete domination of my fantasy football league.

Bayside Tigers:

The "Bayside Tigers" are the members of my fantasy basketball team. Basically, I don't even need to check my standings because I play in a league full of pro basketball idiots. I had the first pick in the draft, so I obviously took K.G. because I am smart and I want to win. But there are 16 people in our league, so I didn't get to pick again until picks 32 and 33, then picks 64 and 65 and so on. I was able to get KG, Carlos Boozer, Tony Parker, Richard Jefferson, and Chris Kaman, among others. After the draft I decided that the league wasn't even worth playing because my team was already too good. One guy even threatened to change his team name to the Valley Bulldogs to be my rival. I dont think he knows that Valley never beats Bayside. I smell another internet championship.

When I was doing the draft, I noticed that every single player had a preseason ranking. I think there were about 900 ranked players to chose from. KG was #1, LeBron was #2. Rod Benson was on the list at number 594. 594 was ahead of Kevin Lyde's 630-something, Dontell Jefferson's 680-something, and Carlos Powell's 712. Mo Baker got me by 6 spots I think. I didn't care what my ranking was, I drafted myself in the 13th round. The way I see it, when I get called up, I'll provide my own fantasy stats.

Kevin and Dontell can't believe they are rated lower than me.

Pwiggle Boomhauer:

This may be my proudest, and lamest, internet achievement to date. Pwiggle Boomhauer is my name. Actually, you could call Pwiggle Boomhauer my second name. If you're in the know, then you already know what that means, if not, then I'll break it down for you.

I was watching "The Office" a few weeks back and I saw that Dwight joined a website called SecondLife.com. Dwight's job in SecondLife was Assistant to the Regional Manager, same as in real life, he even wore the same short sleeve dress shirt and dumb tie in his SecondLife. Later in the episode, Jim Halpert had also created a Second Jim to track Dwight's movements in Second World.

After the episode finished, I went to SecondLife.com to see what all the fuss wad about. It's basically a 3D world that is all user created. You go on there and make a 3D person and then use this person to live in a fully interactive and user created 3D online world. There is even a currency called "Linden" and it has an actual exchange rate to real USD no joke. I think its like 500 Lindens = 1USD I am not kidding you at all. If you set up a shop on SecondLife you can make REAL UNITED STATES DOLLARS by getting so many Linden's. That's SecondLife.

So I was in Berkeley just days before coming out to North Dakota and I decided that if Jim Halpert had a SecondLife, Rod Benson should have one too. Sitting in the living room of the basketball team house, I created my new online identity: Pwiggle Boomhauer. The last names have to come from a list, but the first name is all you. Pwiggle Boomhauer was born and ready to rock. The thing was, the guys on the Cal team all got into it and created SecondLives too. Oscallante Weatherwax and Beamont Marksman were a couple of the SecondNames people came up with. Even my old trainer at Cal got into the act. His name? Swarley Wingtips.

All set up and ready to rock, I entered SecondWorld without any expectations. What I have discovered so far is that it is extremely hard to get Linden's. It really pisses me off that I currently have 0L (zero Linden's). Basically I can't buy anything. I can walk around and talk to people. I can voice chat with them. I can even dance, but I can't buy a coddamn thing.

Somehow one of my old Cal teammates (Beaumont Marksman) managed to make 50L. He is a SecondLife master as far as I'm concerned. Women on SecondLife walk up to him and ask him to make out and he agrees. They engage in virtual 3D online make out sessions that look just awkward. Seriously, imagine Andy Milonakis in a make out scene, then make it twice as awkward, but also overly passionate because 3D Virtual People don't have different scales of kiss. I digress.

I am not doing well at SecondLife because Lindens control everything. I can't even upgrade my clothes. It took me a week to figure out how to take off this feminine looking half zip cardigan I was wearing. Now I have a super tight green shirt and "Nightclub Jeans". Definitely not a good look:

See my shirt? See my pants? I'm over here in Dance Island trying to get people to talk to me and it's just not going down. I may be one of the only people in the whole SecondLife who have better luck in a real life club than in one online. I need Lindens. I need them badly. I cant even get a good black man haircut without them! I will basically commit to a SecondLife of crime soon if I cant find a legal way to get Lindens. I will continue to update you on the progress of Pwiggle Boomhauer, the underachieving, feminine looking, too-tight shirt wearing, Dance Island loser. Im actually not even close to championship calibre in SecondLife because I have no Linden's, but I want you to know I'm coming.

toomuch pwiggle:

O.K. So, after months of me saying one thing and then doing another, I finally, seriously am on XBOX Live again. My name is toomuch pwiggle. All lower case baby. Come find me if you want a loss on your record. I consider myself the best Madden player in pro sports. Prove me wrong.

Lastly, while I have your attention, go ahead and email/comment with good boomisms and I will add them in for the boom tho button. Hollar.

Trinidad South America?

Rod Benson — 2007-11-29T13:51:34-08:00

I need your help. I have a teammate named Kibwe Trim. I call him Tribwe because thats what I do. Tribwe is from Trinidad. It was funny when he first told he was a "Trinidadian". It led me to call him names such as "Trinidaddy Laong Legs" and "Trick Daddy".

Anyways, he told me that Trinidad was real close to Venezuela. I told him it was probably approximately 8 stones throws away and he didn't disagree. I then said that he was the second South American I've played with. Morro was the first ("...they laugh at Morro"). Well, Tribwe did not respond well to being called South American. In fact, he refuses to admit that he is South American. I told him there is no shame in being South American. I am a proud North American myself, why not be proud?

He continues to argue with me and contends that Trinidad is an island. He actually defines the word island for me (as if I dont know) as a land mass completely surrounded by water. He then says that since it is not connected, he cant be South American. He also argues that nobody Trinidadian will admit to being South American.

I told him that The Philippines are islands not connected to Asia, and that many people dont even call Filipino people Asian, but they are. I told him that my old roommate Richard doesn't consider himself to be European. He says British people wont spend Euros and they dont play football (soccer) like schoolyard pansies. Trinidadians could have similar views.

So, I have a couple of questions for you, the reader:

Does every land mass have a continental association?

If so, then obviously he is South American, right?

I googled "Trinidad South America" and one of the first results I got said: "Start your South American Tour here, in Trinidad". It really got to him I think. Basically if enough people tell me I'm right, I can go to him and have hours of fun asking him to make me Sangria, Tacos, Brazilian BBQ and many other things that have nothing to do with Trinidad at all. Just basically call him latin for my own enjoyment. Let me know!

The New Poem Game

Rod Benson — 2007-11-15T13:49:26-08:00

We were all at Buffalo Wild Wings when one of my teammates told me that he wanted to talk to one of the waitresses. He didn't know which one, and he didn't know how he would do it, but he knew he wanted to. It seemed as though one week in North Dakota had quickly become too long to not attempt to find a woman.

I was very willing to help. Why not? The guy obviously wanted to have fun with it and also hopefully take a phone number with his to-go box as we left the building. All 8 of us there that night knew that if I was to get involved that it could get a little bit ridiculous. I mean, let's face it. Everybody had heard the rumors about my blog and my antics. New guys were curious and returning guys were astonished at how much hype tmrb had gotten since that championship game day back in April.

My teammate finally asked me exactly what we should do. I told him that I have written poetry to a woman before. Although he didn't know who Jenna Fischer was, he understood that if I wrote a poem to an actress, I could easily whip one up for a BWW server who was probably already feeling him. I agreed that I would write a poem as long as he agreed to give it to one of them -- no chickening out.

He asked the server of our table for something to write on. She brought back a pen and some blank receipts and handed them to him. He handed them to me and I got to work. Here's what I came up with on the fly:

Roses are red, violets are blue,
I see a good match between me and you

Dont mind this note, I do what I can,
You be a woman, I'll be a man

Every time I see you, my heart sings,
Thats why I come to Buffalo Wild Wings

My boys don't think I have what it takes,
To enjoy a bowl of frosted flakes

With you the next morning after out date,
I'm just a mammal looking for a mate

I dont know exactly how these things go,
But, do you like me?

Yes No

My teammate showed the poem around the table and everyone laughed at the words, but now it was time to see if it was all jokes or if it would actually pay him some dividends. He got up and handed it to one of the servers he thought smiled at him when we came in. We all watched eagerly as she read the note and laughed to herself. Success? Had to be, but we wouldn't be sure until she came back to our table.

She had the server of our table bring back a note that read:

"I think you're handsome, charming, and sweet, but maybe your boys are right! You might not have what it takes to eat this momma's frosted flakes!"

I personally thought that the first note was successful. Her response seemed to not only challenge his ability to get her, but also kind of dared him to try. On top of all that were the sexual implications of the frosted flakes being eaten. We decided to fire back with something that relayed his ability, confidence, and sexual aptitude. He actually thought he should keep it sweet and innocent like the poem, but since I knew I was gonna blog it, I kept it hot to get a good reaction:

"Well the thing about me you may not know is that I have a big spoon and an even bigger appetite!"

We watched from a distance as she read the note. Her jaw dropped and she quickly closed her mouth. She peered over at us as we desperately tried not to laugh. Her eyes kind of lit up and she couldn't hold back her smile. She scribbled something down for a while then had our server bring it back to us. It read:

"The only thing that's on is you,
Simmer down baby and just enjoy the view.

A big appetite is just not me,
So put your big spoon in your own mouth where it needs to be!

You're a sweetheart! Thanks for the lines,
but maybe some other time!"

Damn. Lost it. My teammate accused me of taking it too far. It is entirely possible that I did take it too far, but hey, if he thought he could get her number by himself, then he should have written his own coddamn poem!

Well, after this ordeal, we decided that whenever we go to a restaurant, that I will write a different poem for him to give to a waitress who he is eying. Thus, the poem game has officially begun. I'll be sure to post all the poems and reactions here.

Hollar.

My Roll Dawgs

Rod Benson — 2007-11-08T13:45:31-08:00

The title of this entry sums up nearly 3 weeks of happenings. I think some of the events described go back as far as my last night in New York, and go all the way to right now. I've got the Kanye West on and no T.V., that means it's time for some bloggin'. Let's do it.

I'll start by taking it back to that last night in NYC. You see, before my agent had even called me to tell me the news that my days in New Jersey were done, I was already heading out to the city to watch then #2 ranked CAL play Oregon State in football. Before I left the hotel I was cutting my hair as usual, when the guard slipped off of the clippers without my knowledge. I gave my head a few more strokes before I noticed that the guard was lying on the ground next to my foot. I looked back up at the clippers and sure enough my #1 cut had become a number zero. Damn. I looked at the mirror and immediately saw that my head was definitely giving that Charles Barkley, K.G., M.J. shine . It wasn't that bad, but people who know black people's hair would definitely notice my spot. I called up Clayton and told him what had happened. We agreed that if any of the white people at the CAL bar noticed my spot, then it was really bad, if they didn't, then if was just a minor patch of hair lower than the rest. My main concern was that I was going to have to practice the next day and that the entire team (esp. Antoine Wright and Vince Carter) would make fun of me. Luckily, as I am a glass half full kind of guy, I was released before any of them had a chance to check me out.

That night I did end up going to the bar to watch CAL play Oregon State. I met up with my boys Stevie P. and Cam Jones.

We watched the whole game and they had no clue what had happened to the side of my head. Nice.

After the game was over, a close loss that should have never been, we sat there stunned for about 20 seconds. The whole bar was sad, down, and in a state of disbelief. I started to let my mind wander. My team had lost, all but ensuring another Holiday Bowl bid (not anymore). I had just been released by the New Jersey Nets, basically sending me back to North Dakota. And, last but not least, I had a patch in the side of my head, causing me to avoid my black homies who would laugh at me. Dang, what a bad 4 hours.

Well, all of a sudden, I realized that it could be worse. Why? Because long after everyone had moved on to thoughts other than the CAL game, there was this CAL fan sitting on the ground of the bar sulking. I mean this guy was literally sitting in a puddle of beer, half cross eyed, half teary eyed, mouth drooped open, arms and legs hanging lifelessly. Picture a homeless guy. Now imagine that this homeless guy is like newly homeless. This guy just realized he has nowhere to go and nobody to lean on and his body goes limp. That is how this guy looked. Just seeing him looking so pathetic over a CAL football game made me realize that I needed to pull myself together. I mean, if this guy ever gets cut by the Nets, and gets a bald spot in his head on the same day as a CAL loss, all of his friends should be on suicide watch. As for me, I still had fun on the night it all happened to me. Thanks to Stevie P and Cam Jones for helping me get it done that night.

getting it done

I flew back down to San Diego from the Newark airport ready to just relax for a little bit. Too bad the whole place was on fire:

Our house ended up being fine, but a lot were not. A lot of people are still in need. If you want to help some of them out, click here:
https://secure.salvationarmy.org/donations.nsf/donate?openform&projectid=USW_SC-07fire

After a couple of days at home I went up to Huntington Beach to kick it with Rell and go up to the UCLA football game. The day before the game was spent beating Halo 3 and battling fiercely in Wii Tennis and Bowling. The night was another story.

Rell and I went with Kam Walton (Luke's cousin), and an all star cast of former Torrey Pines High ballers to some bars out in Newport Beach. When we got the the main bar, I wouldn't exactly say it was cracking. Yea, there were a lot of people in there, but so what? These people didn't know how to party. Well, not get it cracking like Rell and Reeks Benson (as Rell calls me) do. How do we do? Let me tell you.

You can go back to the "Hollywood" entry and get a taste of what goes on when Rell and I hit the scene. Let's just say we always dance. Always. This bar we were at in Newport was not a dance spot, even though there was a D.J. there. Rell and I started dancing with random girls to get the place cracking a little. Rell has a girlfriend, so his dancing wasn't quite as enticing as mine, but let's just say that after about 15 minutes this place started to liven up.

Now Rell and I have another sort of tradition. Actually, let's not call it a tradition, let's call it an "if, then". Let's actually change that. We will call it an "if and only if, then". If, and only if the party is crackin', then Rell and I will probably do our pants off dancing. Basically it is just how it sounds. There were no pictures of that night, so i'll show you the one from the "Hollywood" entry:

As you can see, the pants are down and dancing continues to proceed. In college we had this spreading like wildfire. I now realize that that was then and this is now. In that bar in Newport, which was at this point crackin', we began our pants off C-walk. You must understand that the C-walk is the easiest dance to do pants off because your feet are so close together and the pants kind off restrict your foot spacing. So we are in the bar making it happen, pants off C-walking away, and I'm telling you, everybody around (mostly female) was buying what we were selling. It was just getting more and more cracking. Out of nowhere, the music stops. It was kind of like a movie where the D.J. scratches the record to a stop.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" the D.J. said into his mic, easily garnering the attention of everyone in the building. "This is why I don't play hip-hop, because of guys like this! Security come and do something about this."

Right then, everybody (probably 200 people) turns and looks at Rell and me, who are trying our best to shimmy our pants back up. It was a lot easier for me because I was wearing Jeans that had a regular fit. I had mine up in about 3 seconds. Rell, on the other hand, was STRUGGLING. Ever since this guy became an underwear model (catch him on the new season of Janice Dickinson Modeling Show on Oxygen Network Dec. 4), he has been wearing these jeans that are just way too tight. There were two problems with his tight jeans: the D.J. refused to put the music back on until we had the pants back up, and Rell also wore some his designer underwear which had a downright gross bikini cut. I think that the only reason the D.J. stopped us was because of Rell's designer briefs that were so0o0o disgusting. Security actually threw him out and let me stay...had to be the designers. I left anyways because we are a team and we both did the act. I just didn't gross anybody out.

Speaking of gross, Halloween didn't get any better. I decided to steal my brothers ostrich outfit because it was money in the bank. Man on ostrich, so hot right now. I wasn't the gross one though. I must warn you, this really is gross. Don't look at the next two pictures if you think you will be grossed out. This is my boy Jason, and he was a tennis player for Halloween:

Why he had to buy the fake balls and hang them like that I will never, ever understand.

As for the rest of national dress-up day, I got it done up in the bay area.

ride that ostrich young man

clay rocks out with my Guitar Hero Guitar

JGant once again getting harassed

Seriously though, I thought JGant and I had talked about this. I mean, I had to sock him in the balls twice for crying out loud. But look at him. He is having the most fun ever isn't he? Maybe I am a little shallow, but I know he can do better than this! I know it. If he just doesn't care, then i'll forward his myspace profile to all the girls who message me and they can dance the night away.

Oh, and before I met up with him that day he sent me a Blackberry Message that said: "Rod you know i'll wait for you. Can't leave without my roll dawg!"

I was very confused by this. I asked him what that meant? Did it mean like roll-out dawgs or what? He said: "I dont know its just what people say."

I said: "I dunno man that sound a lot like ROAD DAWGS."

He replied: "Oh yea! Thats what they must be saying."

What would I do without my ROLL DAWGS?

I'll end this entry by saying that college basketball is here. Check out my CAL bears. I think they will make some noise.

Top 5 reasons to watch the CAL Bears:

5. I went there, duh. You read my blog, watch my Bears coddamit!
4. People sleep in the trees. Seriously.
3. 2 first round (projected) draft picks
2. You probably need a new team to get into anyways
1. Devon Hardin (one of the draft picks) can get low!!

Hollar!

Funny MySpace Messages 8!

Rod Benson — 2007-10-30T13:39:04-07:00

Although I personally feel that there have been funnier messages in some of the past editions, I don't think any have compared to the ridiculousness (except for the greatest story ever told) found in numero ocho. This edition may anger you as much as it will fill you with joy and laughter. As always, you will be the judge of such things.

I'll kick off 8th edition of Funny MySpace Messages with a couple people who just won't let it go. These are people who I DO NOT reply to and still they continue to blow me up with messages. Like this guy:

He must have taken his other picture off his page. It showed how skinny he is. I honestly think he is required by law to ride in a booster seat because he weighs under 40lbs. Im not exaggerating one bit. Regardless, he sent me another long winded message months after the first two messages he sent to me went unanswered...

Subject: Only in Hollywood...
Body: Hey there,

How's it going? It's been a while... thought I'd send you a note. I had a bizarre experience recently that I thought you might find interesting as a fellow tall guy.

A producer I had met a while back when I composed a few tracks for her short film called me the other day. She had a mutual friend who was doing casting for a commercial, and was looking for guys who are 6'6" on up (the taller the better), and skinny. So, my friend naturally thought of me... and referred me to the casting director. I spoke with her, and she said she absolutely wanted me to show up for an audition and an on-screen test.

I'm NOT an actor at all... but I thought, what the hell? It might be fun. And it was being worked in a way that one didn't necessarily have to be a member of SAG to be in the commercial.

I was a little nervous because I'm literally 6' 5 1/4"... but I figured I was close enough, and geez... how many 6'6" and taller skinny guys were they going to find? And at 125 lbs., they don't get much smaller-built than I am.

Well... I show up... and the waiting room was filled with 34 guys, and I WAS the shortest one there! Only in Hollywood, right? Wild!

I was also the skinniest... there were only two other men who weighed less than 200 lbs. But not much less... the next lightest after me was a 6'9" guy who was 190 lbs. And maybe, yeah, he was skinny for his height and frame size. But, geez... 65 lbs. is BIG size difference even if he is nearly 4" taller. So he looked like the Incredible Hulk in comparison to me when they made us stand next to each other doing camera and photo tests.

And that turned out to be the biggest problem for me... I was eventually told that I was TOO small-built in comparison to the other guys. They needed to cast 4 men who were fairly close in height and size, and all the other guys were a lot bigger than I am. And I was too short, too... the men they finally cast were 6'10" - 7'1" and in the 220- 240 lbs. range. If you ask me, they didn't look skinny at all... more just like lanky but muscular basketball player types. But I guess "skinny" is a relative term, and I just kind of threw everyone's preconceived notions out the window!

But, whatever... it was an interesting experience, and that's all I was really expecting of it.

OH... the tallest guy there was 7'4"! But he was 330 lbs., and although he insisted he was skinny for his frame-size... the guy was huge next to everyone else. Again, all a matter of relative perspective, I guess.

You should have seen THAT camera test... with him at 7'4" and 330 lbs. standing next to me at a little over 6'5" and 125 lbs. He looked like he could swallow me whole for a snack. LOL

We compared shoe sizes, too... mine at size 8 narrow, and his at size 22 EEEE! I told him I didn't envy his having to find shoes that fit. He told me he didn't envy the fact that size small t-shirts fit me like a tent.

Touche.

~David

This may be your first time ever reading one of my MySpace messages. You may find this to be ridiculous. It is. The problem here is that I DO NOT KNOW THIS GUY. I think he wants me to pretend that we are long time friends or something.

Let's pretend that I was his friend. My response would probably go something like "Wow! Mann you're right! Only in Hollywood! How in the world could you have been the shortest one!? It must be something in the water out here man. Still, so awesome for you. I am totally hyped to hear that. Size 22 shoes? I would never have imagined!"

Now, let's go through how I really feel. Dog, eat some food. There is no logical excuse for you to be 36 years old and 125 lbs at 6'5". I know there's something you like to eat. Porterhouse is a good start. Have a twinkie or two with your breakfast. Do something. It's cool that you're doing your hollywood thing, but try to understand that although I am usually slow to return my messages (it can take weeks), if you still havent gotten a reply to these long winded ramblings in 8 months, it's not gonna happen. Lastly, I am 6 10, 227 myself. Nothing about that story shocked me.

If I still had access to the other pics of his, you would see just how skinny he really is. He's like Sally Struther's only white somalian ever.

Well when it comes to repeat messages nobody does it like Sweet Ann. Since I first got a msg from her nearly a year ago, she has not stopped. Seriously, read any of my last 4 myspace posts and you will find her in every one.

"Hey u wat's up! Just wanted to stop by your page to show u some love.. So how is everything be side work. I haven't seen u on line lately. Guess what I'm not on Guam I'm on vaction here in California at my cousin place Rosmond. Where do u stay at in California hopefully we can met up with each other, I really want met u in person. So hopefully I'll be in San Diego for wedding on Aug 11, send me a comment back ok.. Well got to go now take care and be safe.

"Hey u wat's up, just wanted to holla back at u. It's been such a long time since the last time I chatted with u. So how have u been and work and all.. Hope everything is good with u any way u know what to do holla back at your gurl!!

Antoinette

"Hey u long time no see, wat's up! With u these days hope everything is going good with u, dam still looking good to me. Well just take care and be safe now u here...

Sweetann

There is no logical explanation for this. Maybe she has tricked herself into thinking that we had something long ago when we didn't. I did message her one time, to tell her that I was part of the ship crew that caught the largest squid ever off the coast of Fiji. Cmon now! Get the joke already. At this point I can't even feel bad anymore. At some point you have to watch some Oprah. She has internet scam people on there all the time. Women, just like you, who fell for fake guys on the internet and gave up credit card info among other things. Lucky for you I just write about it and I'm not out buying XBOX 360 games on your Master Card!

We are off to a very good start right now. Let's keep it going, shall we?

This next girl is also a repeat message girl. I don't remember her past messages, but I guess I could have easily overlooked them.

No Subject
Body: whats up again, and thanx for the add....I guess my message was lame since u aint hit me back up, maybe I need to recheck my game......lol

Like I said, I usually read everything. Sometimes I do forget to reply to a message, so I decided to check her out and make sure I didn't make a mistake...

Status: In a Relationship
Orientation: Straight
Hometown: Reykjavik, Iceland
Body type: 5' 4"
Religion: Christian - other
Zodiac Sign: Aries
Smoke / Drink: No / Yes
Children: Proud parent
Education: Grad / professional school

OK. Let's break this down. Let's look at the reasons why I didn't reply to her. Foot on the bed picture? No thanks. Arm that looks stronger than mine? Can't do it. In a relationship? No can do. She has a kid and she's from a town in Iceland that has like 32 consonants in it.

It wasn't your game, I'm afraid. It was simply the fact that I don't want to fly out to Iceland (which is really green according to D2: The Mighty Ducks are Back), bring Mr. Frommer with me to find whatever the hell your town is called, bring my baseball bat to fight your boyfriend who I assume is bigger than you, making him bigger than me, drop off a box of Capri Sun's for your kid to keep him busy and still find you unattractive because you have a pouty looking face with your foot on the bed. Sorry.

At least she made an effort to write something. I got too tired of the html comments that people were leaving for me. This one was the final straw:

When I saw this, I did not think about how sweet my lips may or not be. I immediately thought it was just weird. Why? Why send this? Why post this on my page?

This is her, smiling, finding other comments such as "Hey Hot Pants" and "Hello Pretty Toes". Seriously, I don't need that in my life.. I can't deal with all that right now.

I also couldn't deal with a woman by the display name of "Mrs. Gorgeous". She snuck one more animated html thing on my comments before I had a chance to turn them off.

Coddamit, stop it with these things. I dont know why they keep coming. Especially from girls like this:

When I saw her pic, I thought to myself that I wouldn't exactly call her Mrs. GORGEOUS. That's when I saw this on her page:

Right back at ya! Am I being mean? I would have thought so until I saw her other pic:

Yep. That's what I deal with all the time on MySpace. Everyday I do.

Even with all of that, there are messages that get worse.

Like these, all from a MAN.

wuss good Renaissance man
Body: finnally get to thank you for the add wut u up too this late? and im stealing your page layout LOL

Subject: SD
Body: u in san diego with that smile hit me up lets party

Subject: basketball
Body: u coming to sd to get down or what i know u wanna cum wit me/

I didnt put up a photo of this guy because he lives in San Diego and he might actually be straight and he might just come find me and beat my ass. Can't take any chances. Maybe I can just flaunt my smile and he will calm down!

Besides, why put up a pic of him when I can put up photo's of Clayton's admirers instead. Like Robert:

recognizin your page..
thanxs for the add....hope to hear from ya soon..

robert
illinois

waitin on ur response...
ok, i said thanxs for the add. havent heard from ya in 3 or 4 attempts.. why add me; if you didnt want a friend... i am meeting brothas and sistas from all over the U.S. if this isnt you. then delete me....

robert
illinois

ok it goin to be like that!!!!

thats cool,

robert
illinois

its ur call...

robert
illinois

Looks like this calm needs to calm down. It's like he can't go on with approval from Clayton who has 11,000 other friends. I don't care if youre straight or gay or whatever, that kind of persistence is downright unnecessary. Seriously man, start a second life or something. That way you can create yourself, you can create Clay, heck, you can even create me. Then you can have hours of fun replying to messages that normally would go unanswered.

Still not as bad as guy #2. Even with editing, it is gross and you may want to skip ahead:

Are you Gay or Bi?
How can a guy like me be on your team?
How big is your d--k?
Do you like big d--ks?
How old are you?
Do you like Black guys?
Do you have any kids?
Do you have you own house?
Do you have a cell phone?
What type cell phone do you have and who is it by!
Do you want kids?
Do you s--k d--k?
Do you e-t a-s?
Do you s--k d--k well?
Do you like Whitney Houston?
Do you have a car?
Do you have a job?
Do you family know about you?
Do you go to church?
Do you love having sex?
Do you like sexy ass Thugs?
What makes you happy?
What makes you mad?
Where is your boy friend at?
Where do you see your self in five years?
Where do you live at?
Who is Jesus?
Sexy are you a top?
Sexy are you a bottom?
Can I see some of your pics?
Can a guy get your number?
Can your boy get your name?

YOU CAN ASK ME ANYTHING YOU WANT!

I do have a question for this dude: What the hell is wrong with you? Does this work? Have you ever been in an institution mental or otherwise? Does your dad know what youre up to? Do you have any shame? Are you related to Dennis Rodman? WHY IN THE WORLD IS THERE NO STRAIGHT OPTION AT THE TOP OF THIS LIST???

Talk about things that are hard to deal with. A message like that is never well received. It doesn't matter if it's from a man or woman, like "Thick and Sexy" here:

She sent me this.. I changed all the F words to "Do":

DO OR PASS!!!!!!!
Body:
DO OR PASS!!!!!!!
There is @ least 1 person on ur myspace list that wants 2 do the hell out of u. So lets play the do or pass game! The rules r simple...if u want 2 do the person who posts this send them a message saying yep, Id do you!!!!!!!!!!!! Scared? This s--ts funny cuz there is @ least 1 person on ur list who wants 2 do u.

and this

Subject:
heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!
Body:
waz up sexxi just showin some luv to all my friends online starting wit the cutest ones and guess what your #1

"IN LOVE AND LOVIN IT"

FEMALE
17 YEARS OLD
PHILLY, PENNSYLVANIA
UNITED STATE

Please please please please tell me that I was not sent that first message because she wants to do me that bad. Please please please please tell me that I am not her cutest friend in the world which would have to include the boyfriend she's in love with who has no problems dating big girls. Please tell me that she is not 17. It is a sad, strange world when the only people who want to do you are men and overweight, underage, foul mouths who are in love with someone else.

The next girl has a display name called "Lady Skeet". Really? Lady Skeet? C'mon now girl. You gotta know what skeet means...don't you?

hey i know idk u and u dont know much about me but imma star featuring ppl on my profile. something like person of the week would u be ok if u get picked that i took one of ur pictures to put it up on my profile?

After I wasted 2 minutes of my day trying to read this message, I decided not to reply. Even if I say no she would take it as an invitation to talk unless I said it in a very rude tone. Not good. Then, I got this:

"oh i thought it was somebody else.lol

ur adams apple attracted my eyes.
...and ur smile did too.=]

You can't be serious right now. My ADAMS APPLE attracted your eyes? That is ricodamdiculous. Why would would you send me this? Who else could it be? Mr Adams McApple? Is that what you thought? I came to the conclusion that she didnt quite know what she was saying. Why? Because this was on her profile:

Status:
In a Relationship
Here for:
Networking, Friends
Orientation:
Straight
Hometown:
yemem.lol
Body type:
5' 8" / More to love!
Ethnicity:
Latino / Hispanic
Religion:
Catholic
Zodiac Sign:
Aquarius
Children:
Someday
Education:
In college
Occupation:
kickin ass

"yea we all know everyone is unique but
im above and beyond.
im intelligent. i study the dictionary.
i have extremely high standars. its not what u think. im not high maintenance, boo-G or flashy.
im not gonna say that im poor, cuz im not. i can get it but it not important or necessary.

Dont ever make fun of or have a look of disgust at the mentally ill or others that dont look like u. they're still humans.
i dont settle for mediocre. dont know what that means??go find out.
yes i have a filthy mouth [vulgar language]. but their not the only words i know."

She cant be serious about studying the coddamn dictionary. People who study the dictionary don't immediately follow "I study the dictionary" with "I dont have high standars." I guess she assumes I don't know what mediocrity is. I can tell her. It's called her myspace page. In fact, it's probably sub-par. Yea, sub-par. It's in the dictionary right before "they're", a contraction meaning they are. Seriously, I should have expected this from a girl who spends her time kickin ass and using [vulgar language]. Maybe the fact that she never changes her face could have been a tell all:

Her mom told her what would happen. She said "Skeet, if you keep making that face, it's gonna stay like that!" Skeet didn't listen, now look at her.

The never changing of the face thing was real big with "SweetHeart" too. She seemed innocent enough by her message:

hey handsome, how u doin

I mean, I had no intention of replying anyways, but I still gave her page a look:

Notice anything here? Oh yea, how about she is the female Zoolander. All she's got is blue steel huh? She should work on that. I mean, I only gave you a 4 pic sample, there are 30 pictures that are all exactly like these. Yes, I know exactly what she looks like hair down, smirking, from the left. Not enough to get a reply. I wouldn't anyways, but let's pretend I was somebody who would.

Anyways, its still not that bad, but I wonder how she had the audacity to send me a msg considering I found this in her profile:

"I could be VERY paranoid. I would like to think im a little funny.. I'm really mean and stuck up to those who deserve it. i cant stand black girls, you will probably think I'm racist, but I'm just honest, brutally honest. I have no patience for bitches whatsoever!"

Why in the world would I hit you back when u say some crazy stuff like that? You have two things to learn: how to take a different picture and how to develop some social tolerance.

She was not the worst by far. I left the photo of this next person off because I believe someone hacked their profile. Regardless, the message was very real. I WONT edit what was said so if you think words will bother you, then skip ahead or something.

The display name of this person was "I HATE NIGGERS WHITE POWER!" and the message was this:

wtf kinda music is this. i hang ppl for having this kinda music on there myspace. plus yra fucking nigger. white power u piece of shit

I tried to reply, but they disabled all messages from people who they arent friends with. You can't always find something witty to say to these things anyways. Who knows what I would have said had I had the opportunity?

I was coming back home one night from a Halloween party and when I got back to my homie's apt., another friend of ours was arguing with a Taxi driver. He didn't have his wallet so we gave it to him and he paid the driver who left. My friend who was arguing kept telling me about reverse discrimination and racism that he felt he got from the cab driver. He didn't realize that he was just being a drunken idiot. I finally sat him down in front of the computer and showed him this message. He shut up right then. As a white guy, I don't think he knew what real racism is. Well boom there you go.

Before I conclude, I would like a little help from all of you. See, there is this guy. His name is Michael Terrell Williams...I think. He has a MySpace profile that literally contains only pictures of me. Somebody forwarded his profile to me to show me the ridiculousness of the whole thing. I personally find it funny. Why? Because his page was actually better than mine. He enjoys cooking and fishing, reading, and rock climbing. The fake Rod Benson sounded more interesting that the REAL Rod Benson. I actually spent hours re-doing my page. I read a CSS code tutorial and built MY MYSPACE PAGE from scratch just to compete. Anyways, It would be even funnier to me if everyone who has a myspace and doesn't mind sending a random message, to send a message this guy telling him to stop perpetrating the real Rod Benson aka Too Much! It would be glorious if he signed in and there were like 100 msgs in his box all saying the same thing. Make it happen.

http://www.myspace.com/michaelterrellwilliams

Blow him up in the name of realness.

It Just Got Real

Rod Benson — 2007-10-29T13:36:45-07:00

Today I made my return to Bismarck, North Dakota official. I faxed in my contract sealing my season (or hopefully just a part of it) as a D-League baller. You know what I'm saying... like KG except I aint worth a dollar, right?

My contract had the usual agreements on it:

Do you agree to compete in the NBDL?

Yes.

Do you agree to make way less money than you would overseas in hopes that you recieve a call-up and a shot at the NBA life?

Yes.

Do you agree to go back to North Dakota?

Sure.

Do you agree to living in sub zero temperatures and snow for months at a time?

Done it before.

Are you sure, considering that you still don't know how to drive in the snow?

Gotta learn sometime.

Do you agree to 8 hour van rides, 10 day road trips, 5 hour layovers, and flights that always connect through Denver or Mineapolis?

Yes.

Are you sure? Denver is really scary to in and out of with all that turbulence and all.

It's Halloween, there are scarier things. Yes.

Did you look at the schedule and notice that you will not leave the midwest for months?

Uh huh.

Do you agree to playing in for and in front of the best fans in the D-League?

I would do it for free (not really). Yes.

Are you ready to rock?!

Yep.

And roll?

Indeed.

And thus, after signing off on (and mentally agreeing to) all of the above stipulations, I can proclaim my return. I am returning to Bucks, and Stadium, B Dubs and Dennys, the Steak Buffet and Wal Mart, Best Buy and Ressler Chevrolet commercials. Lets rock! You know, and roll...

My BBall Career is like a game of "Mike Tyson's Punchout"

Rod Benson — 2007-10-22T13:33:37-07:00

I had this entry done a week ago. It was then that my computer pretended to run out of batteries and turned itself off. In any case, it's here now. I was released by the Nets a week ago. Before I get into the Nintendo reference and my future, I'll recap my last days in Jersey.

2 weeks ago we had the open practice at Farleigh Dickinson University. I, not knowing anything about anything, expected to see a couple hundred people there. When the multiple thousands of people started packing the gym, I realized that people care more about the Nets than they do about the Austin Toros (D-League) who I was with this time last year.

After our scrimmage, I got to really see how crazy fans are for NBA teams. Thousands and thousands of people were calling out the names of thier favorite players. I was sitting down icing my knees while the madness took place. I can imagine that if I was Vince Carter or Jason Kidd, I would have a serious problem responding to anyone who says my name at any time. I heard people yell out "Jason" over and over and over and over. Seriously, like 300 people at a time, all saying his name. People wanted to get autographs so badly I couldn't believe it.

It wasnt just J Kidd and Vince, people were calling out for autographs from guys like R Jeff, Boki Nachbar, Antoine Wright, Malik Allen, Jason Collins, Jamaal Magloire, Sean Williams, Josh Boone, Marcus Williams, Nenad Krstic, Mile Ilic, Jumaine Jones, Robert Hite, Eddie Gill and Mateen Cleaves. One name was not on that list -- Rod Benson. I really thought a couple people would be hyped to see me, but they were more hyped to see everyone else which was cool. I just sat there with ice on my knee, waiting to go as autographs were signed and photo's were snapped.

Then, out of nowhere, I think I hear my name...

"Rod! Hey Rod, come over here!"

Nice, I thought. Finally a fan. Maybe he's a TMRB reader. I decide to play it cool, as if to show that I was not that hyped. I wanted to look like I do this all the time. Get out of my seat slowly and the whole nine yards. By the time I turned around, I saw Rod Thorn chatting it up with somebody behind me. I kept my eyes open, just in case there was another guy, but no, he was clearly requesting Rod Thorn. Damn.

A few minutes later my time finally came. Somebody yelled out my last name, so I knew it was official. This time I didn't care at all about impressing anybody with nonchalance. I snapped my head around to look at and make eye contact with the group of young women who had called me out. I walked over enthusiatically and asked them what was up.

"Can you get Josh Boone for us? He can't hear us or something."

You've got to be kidding me. Ricodamdiculous. I walked over to Josh and told him what was up.

"Oh yeah, I think I'm Facebook friends with them," he says on his way over towards the girls.

I then noticed that Jason was sitting a few seats away from me. I went and sat right next to him even though there was plenty of space to sit more comfotably. When he gave a look that seemed to question my decision to invade the personal bubble, I told him what was up.

"The way I see it, if I sit close to you, people will have photo's of me whether they like it or not. I'm bound to end up on youtube or myspace or something," I confessed.

On my way out of the gym, one guy asked for a picture with me. He said that he was a TMRB guy and that he just wanted a photo. Whoever you are, guy with the camera, thanks for legitimizing me. You're a stand up guy.

Anyways, I guess I should get into the reasons why I titled this entry what I did. I was riding to the airport with Vinny the Nets intern and we were dicussing how I repaired my broken Xbox. Somehow I brought up the fact that I love Ken Griffey Jr. Presents Major League Baseball. I can still hear Ken say "Hi, Im Ken Griffey Jr. Let's play major league baseball."

The Griffey talk transitions to Super Smash Brothers and then to Mike Tyson's Punchout. I tell Vinny that I had more trouble beating the Sandman than anybody else. He says that Soda Pop gave him the most trouble. All the reminiscing about the game got to thinking about it. Right then I had an epiphany -- my career is just like that game. Let's examine the facts..

Lets call me Little Mac. I'm a young man trying to come up. I have good people in my corner, and although I'm young and at times outmatched, I have heart, and I'm always smiling:

I can remember back to high school hoops. It was so easy to dominate back then, because I was facing inferior competition...much like Mac in the minor circuit. It aint hard knocking out guys like Joe Glass and Piston Honda.

Then there was college. Tougher competition made it tough to compete, especially early, but later once I got it figured out, the game slowed down and it again became easier. In the college game, you face guys who are good, but they have weaknesses. I can easily remember guys who I could exploit with ease. I was Little Mac and I faced guys like Don Flamenco, King Hippo, and Great Tiger. These are guys who will beat you if you don't know their weaknesses, but are also easy opponents once they get exposed.

Now I'm a pro bball player. I have been making strides on my game slowly, but surely. It's by far the toughest competition. Guys up here don't have clear weaknesses like before. Up here, especially for a guy like me, experience is key. When we had our preseason game at Philly, coach Frank told us to go through our normal routine and to meet up with 30 minutes to go before game time. I watched as Darrell Armstong had his coffee. I watched as Mateen Cleaves stretched. I watched Boki Bachbar get up a ton of shots. I then realized that I was the only one without a routine at all. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. This is not a crazy example, but it was a sign that I lack a certain amount of experience. It's like trying to beat the Sandman all over again. There are certain things I gotta do and learn before I ever get a real crack at Mike Tyson (the NBA).

Seriously though, coach Frank called me into his office the day after the preseason game and broke it down to me. He told me everything I already thought about why I was being released. He was very nice about it and professional. I know I need more strength, a given, but mainly I need more consistency, which stems from professionalism. Being a pro encompasses so many things. During camp I lacked confidence at times, aggressiveness, all the things that made me successful before. Veterans understand how to eliminate such thoughts. I think Malik Allen will have a good year this year and that the Nets will go far, because they have a lot of veterans who understand the meaning of what it takes to be a pro. I will be back in North Dakota learning how to work on a specific move, a routine, a signature thing about me that makes me a pro.

In the end, experience is everything. You can watch all the late night cinemax you want, but until you actually have sex, you have no idea what you're doing, right? I learned what the big show is all about and now I am prepared to take that final step. Im ready to beat the Sandman. I talked with the coach of the Dakota Wizards and he was enthusiastic about helping me help myself. He was enthusiastic about the fact that I was enthusiastic. He was ready to get to work to take my experience and talent and turn it into a skill set that translates directly to what I will be as an NBA player. Barring some sort of miracle contract overseas, I'll be doing just that -- taking the final step towards the ultimate goal.

Well, currently my family is on the brink of evacuation down in San Diego. I'm in LA safe and sound, but a number of homes of people I know have already started to burn. We live right on the water, so hopefully I'll get a call tomorrow telling me that everything is fine. If not, I know there are things more important than the material things that could go down in flames (well, my xbox and my wii are with me, so they are safe). My Vince Carter autographed shoe has less meaning now that I've shared a locker space with the guy. My Tiger Woods autograph became less important the day I dropped 24 on Stanford and he was there to see it. My family, my health, and my future are in the works now. I think it will all be ok, but who knows. Sorry to end on a somber note, but it is very odd blogging when my broither calls me to say that there is ash raining from the sky, which is orange and black, and that he has packed up eevrything he cares about. Like I said, we will see.

Year 24, Day 1

Rod Benson — 2007-10-11T12:58:13-07:00

The 24th year of my life began like every other day this past month. I woke up, checked my facebook (already flooded with happy birthday messages), got dressed, played a game of Madden (beat the Colts 77-0, on all madden) and went to practice.

Once I got to the practice facility, things took a turn. There were cameras waiting outside when I got out of the team van. The cameras actually filmed me going into the building. I know that you probably assume that they should want to follow me in, since I am one of nineteen players that they are supposed to film, but Rod Benson is on a lower spot on the totem pole than some of the big time guys, so I was very surprised.

I got into my gear, had a delicious Gatorade energy shake, and got my ankles taped. I have to reiterate how good these things are, the Gatorade shakes. Every time a baby laughs, I believe that the tears of joy that stream down their faces are collected by Gatorade scientists, mixed together with such wonderful ingredients as uncooked cake batter and sucrose syrup, and put into a wonderful green can. Remember 9/11? Yea, the exact opposite of that. I digress.

Once everyone was ready for practice, coach Frank called us all in for our usual pre-practice circle talk thing. With everyone paying the utmost attention coach Frank said he had to make an announcement.

"Guys, when one our own gets recognition, we should all be proud."

No way he is talking about me. No way.

"It just so happens that one of our guys is the very best at what he does."

He HAS to be talking about me. Really?

"Rod Benson..."

Yes!

"...has been recognized for having the #1 blog in professional sports. I read it in the newspaper yesterday."

Not knowing what to do, I gave a slight fist-pump. It was like MJ in the first quarter or Tiger Woods on the third green. Not the big time fist pump signaling victory, but a subtle, less energetic pump that says "there's still more work to do." I wish I was recognized by ESPN as the best basketball player in the history of the world, but blogging would have to do. Right then, in that moment, blogging definitely would do.

"Furthermore, it is his birthday today. Rookies have to sing happy birthday to him. Who are the rookies? Sean, and who else? I....guess it's just Sean. Sean, go ahead."

"Right now? In front of all the cameras?" Sean obviously didn't believe coach was serious. Everybody else on the team chimed in, making it pretty serious.

"Oh yea."
"Right now, gotta sing."
"Lets go rook. Happy Birthday. Sing it to Rod."

All I could do was laugh. It may have been more awkward for me that it was for Sean. I don't think he really had any problems doing it, because when he finally did, he seemed to enjoy his off-tempo, deep voiced, slightly mis-worded rendition of the birthday tune.

After practice, we split up into groups of 5 or so for an event called "Paint the Town." Basically, each group went to a different location and shook hands and signed autographs and whatnot. My group (Krstic, Boone, Ilic, and Armstrong) went to a McDonalds about 20 minutes away from the practice facility.

We all washed our hands and went to the back. They showed us the fridge and freezer rooms, the rooms where all the happy meal toys are kept, and then had us make a big mac. It took Darrel Armstrong 1 minute, 59 seconds to make one. Boone it took 1:29. Rod Benson got that bad boy done in 1:09. Should I be so celebratory? Yes. I should.

I would say how long it took Mile to get his done, but he didn't seem to comprehend too much. He seemed pretty content with the helium tank...

We then got behind the register and made some sales.

I was working the drive thru. I decided to sprinkle a little sunshine on the drive thru customers by placing a happy meal toy in their bag regardless of their order. I figure they will be so happy to have gotten a toy, that they will always return to that McDonalds. I was showing them that this particular McDonalds knows how business is done.

Well, as it turns out, the McDonalds people knew that it was my birthday somehow. I was pleasantly surprised to see that they had a cake all set up with candles and whatnot:

They sat me down in a chair while all the employees and PR people sang happy birthday to me. None of the players sang because only rookies sing. I guess. When the singing ended, one of the employees threw the cake in my face. I couldn't believe it. There was literally cake coming through my nostrils into my throat. It was gross. They brought me a bunch of napkins and whatnot so I could clean my face off. After about two minutes of wiping, I thought I had it all off...

Wrong. I continued to clean my face off in the bathroom for a few minutes more before it was really all gone.

I got back to the hotel later and I thought to myself that I had not yet done anything for my birthday. I had to do something. At about 8pm, I got into a cab and went to Wal Mart. What better place to spend an hour or two of my birthday than at the local Wal Mart? It's full of gifts I can give to myself if the mood strikes. In fact, I did buy a gift for myself. I bought a new digital camera that is "YouTube Approved". What does this mean to you? It means that my video making is back. A third chapter in the boom tho series? Dont count it out!

I left Wal Mart feeling satisfied with my purchase. I began to walk around aimlessly, when my brother called me. He informed me that he has now purchased 2 different halloween costumes. His first costume is the king from Burger King. Sounds pretty cool. His second is an inflatable ostrich that, when worn correctly, looks like a man is riding an ostrich with his legs flailing behind him. Looks like lil bro is on the right track to follow my footsteps. He purchased his costumes a month early, he chose funny and inventive costumes, and he chose two of them, obviously understanding that you dont just party once on halloween. Props lil bro, props. I told him that I intend to be the Kanye West bear. You know the bear with the little backpack and whatnot? Yea, that would be costume one. Costume two, the real costume, I figured I would be a fat guy. Like a fat version of Rod Benson. Kind of like Eddie Murphy and the Klumps. I would wear a fat suit, of course, but also get fat face makeup. I assume that I wouldn't have that much fun being fat and hot with makeup all over my face, but it would be hilarious, which is all I care about.

After I got off the phone with the bro, I walked past a movie theater. I stopped, thought about it, then walked back to the ticket office to see a movie. The only movie playing at 9pm was Mr. Woodcock. I bought my ticket and walked on in. I think there were about ten screens in this theatre, yet I was the only person in the whole building. Seriously. 3 employees and 1 total customer -- me. I went into my actual theatre to see Mr. Woodcock, and nobody else was in there. I've never been to a movie by myself before, let alone a 9pm showing with nobody else in attendance. It was kind of like having a private screening or something.

I yelled out "I guess nobody cares if I leave my ringtone on, right?" Of course there was no response. It was nice in a way. I used my phone, I laughed when things were funny and didnt fall into the trap of mob laughter. You know... laughing when something really isnt funny, but since everyone else is laughing, you get caught up in the moment and give an artificial laugh. No studio audience for me on that night.

I finished my night off with a call from my mom who said that the NBA TV guys called me intelligent. She then said that she always knew I was smart because I was the only newborn she knew who could hold their own bottle. Interesting.

Back at my hotel room that night, I did my best to recall every birthday I ever had...

My 22 other birthdays (minus 1-4, which I dont remember):

5: Got remote control car, which was cool except my brother got one too.. on my birthday. I never forgave grandma for that.
6. Got "Contra" on Nintendo. Awesome.
7. Won the paper airplane contest at day care with a design I learned from older kids the night before.
8. Dont Remember.. probably because I was consumed with trying to learn my coddamn times tables.
9. Got "Tecmo Bowl" on Nintendo. Awesome.
10. Got a new lot of Frank Thomas baseball cards as well as my A-Rod rookie and a Mickey Mantle.
11. Dont remember. Odd. I will blame excessive amounts of the newly released "Rice Krispies Treats" for this.
12. Camping with the homies and fishing for trout. Also, got my first AOL screen name and entered chat rooms pretending to be a 14 yr old named Shaun. I had a "14 year old girl named Stacey" sending me letters from Seattle. She loved safeway chicken nuggets, it was what we had in common. It was all good until mom saw a letter and banned me from the computer.
13. First set of Golf clubs.
14. Snowboarding in Big Bear.
15. Broke my wrist snowboarding in Big Bear, thus ending my snowboard career. I was also called out for being the only black guy to go snowbarding, being 6'7" at that, and consequently miss basketball season. After Jeff (my AAU coach) called me out, I quit boarding and focused on hoops. That talk led me to college basketball.
16. Took a trip to Santa Barbara with our high school girls volleyball team. It was on this trip that I discovered dance music beyond Jock Jams. DJ Sammy - Heaven... get on that.
17. Dont remember. I blame College recruiters for this.
18. First day of practice at CAL. I nearly fainted due to exhaustion.
19. Quiet night rebuilding my computer.
20. "Rod-Fest" as it was dubbed by my man Prelle. The greatest party ever thrown, basically. People danced on my futon and broke it, and I wasnt mad about it at all. Junior year was the greatest year ever.
21. Cal vs. UCLA football at the Rose Bowl. Although we lost, it was one of the greatest days in Rod Benson history.
22. JGant, Clay, Marty, Devon, and many more gettin it done in Berkeley. There are photos of this night, but I wont show them to you.

A year from now, I will have to do something spectacular. Until then...

What B-Melt Has to Say (Myspace Story Part 2)

Rod Benson — 2007-10-10T12:56:37-07:00

Go back down and read "The Greatest Myspace story ever told,” if you havent yet. When your done, my boy B-melt has some more to add. It is in his voice, so I'll let him say what he has to say...

Rod, you were pretty dead on about your story. but i do have a couple extra stories for your viewers enjoyment. SO EVERYONE, please continue to read... Everything happens in life for a reason, but when things happen like this, and when they happen to you, the only thing you can say is... "i know stuff like this can happen, but not to me!" it was weird, the more we talked, the more we had in common, the more we had in common, the more we clicked, the more we clicked, the more other people knew i was talkin to her. the more people that knew i was talkin to her, the more she hyped up the coolest white boy ever, i mean... SHE EVEN PUT A PIC OF ME ON HER MYSPACE PAGE! (now i dont think it can get any more honorable than that, LMAO) anyways... i havent lost total contact with her, she really is a good person, with a good heart... but its crazy to think not only did she have me fooled, but she had 75% of all professional athletes fooled, (i was the only white exception she ever made, so you gotta admit, that adds a little more spice to the story, lol) The 1st story might be the most ironic of all stories. in 2000,When i was a freshman at Illinois, i actually talked to her online many times, and we conversed back and forth about people and life in general. i remember sending her a picture of me and yao ming together...anyways... more than 5 years later, we ironically became friends on myspace, (which at the time, i had no idea i even knew her) and she immediately sent me that pic of me and yao ming, which freaked me the hell out, i mean... how in the world did she get that? i mean, that picture was taken over 6 years ago! and i forgot i even had that picture! anyways, that convinced me that OF COURSE, I DID KNOW HER, and by the looks of her pics... I REALLY WANTED TO GET TO KNOW HER SOME MORE!!! In fact, that leads me to story #2...the more i got to know her, the more she name dropped, and i started to realize we had many mutual friends, she actually got me into clubs in SD with out even being within 3,000 miles from me. i was waiting in line at "aubergine" downtown, and there were some Chargers having a party in there, some i knew, some i didnt, but the ones i knew, SHE KNEW! so, she hit them up on their TMAIL, saying, "hey, my boy is waitin in line outside the club, can you get him in?" the next thing i knew, i had some of the Chargers coming out to get me, bmelt, into the club! how crazy is that? im just a white boy from the country with connects from all over the globe. LOL... now its time for story #3,which is by far,last but not least... what im about to say is going to be said for a total sense of humor that you happened to leave out of your story, so please "Tiffany", dont get mad, its only as funny as you made it, At a certain "white party" in the summer of 06' i ran into this Kelly guy... he asked me... "hey, are you really dating 'Tiffany'?" and at that time, i was the only one in america who knew "the truth", i just didnt want to blow her cover, so i responded "yeah, sure AM!!!" he said, "DAMN YOURE LUCKY, i've seen her pictures, DAMN SHE'S GOT A PHAT ASS!!!" my only response i could think of was "you got that right!" anyways, i thought that would add some humor to your story. i could go on and on about stories that i encountered on my 6 month journey with this "Tiffany" character. but its just not worth it. she's a good girl, who made a mistake, all people make mistakes, but atleast she got the chance to live the life that many people can only dream of...being a "MYSPACE JUMP-OFF"!!! good luck to you RB, it was great sharing stories with you this summer at Glen Park! the infamous, bMelt. Once you become famous, you can never become UN-famous, you can only become IN-famous!!! remember that... "Matthew 19:26; with god, all things are possible"

East Coastin' Part 2 (NJ Nets)

Rod Benson — 2007-10-01T12:55:32-07:00

I've now been in New Jersey for a month. I'm gonna be honest with you. I probably spent 20 hours a day inside the hotel during the week. The other four hours were spent in the gym. After reading both of my Patterson books in the first few days, I needed something more to do. First, it was watching different episodes of The Hills After Show online. I even watch "An American Tale"... twice. I know the songs "Never Say Never" and "Somewhere Out There" by heart now. Then, it was onto other various things on MTV.com such as casting and what not. I figure if they have a "True Life: I Live in a Hotel" or something like that, I should be a shoe in. Now it's time to recap the whole month in one post. So what if it's a long post... deal with it.

Anyways, one day I was just laying around, staring out at the NYC skyline, when I remembered how fun xbox 360 used to be. I remembered the good times xbox and I used to have. I kind of felt like it was an ex-girlfriend who gave me the "it's not you it's me" line. It just gave me 3 red lights, peaced, and never came back. Well, I decided that enough was enough. I decided to take action and get my girl back.

I went online and found a ton of results on XBOX 360 and the 3RLOD (three red lights of death). As it turns out, the 3RLOD is a ridiculously common thing with the 360. Lucky for me there were plenty of tutorials on how to fix that bad boy. There were many schools of thought on the 3RLOD, many of which dealt with cooling and heat sink issues. I basically read a couple tutorials, selected the one for me, and got to work. Considering the fact that I used to build PCs from components, I felt that I could get the job done.

As you can see, I took my box completely apart. What you see is the motherboard outside of the casing with the DVD drive and fans removed. In the first photo you also see all the tools that I bought from the Secaucus, New Jersey Home Depot, a blueberry muffin, some packages of mustard, and a coke. The muffin came in handy during the hard work as there was quite a bit of trial and error. I like muffins. If you dont like a good blueberry muffin you dont like rainbows, sunshine, smiling babies.... you dont like anything.

So, I actually had to go back to home depot about 3 times to get the correct parts to do this. The hotel actually has a shuttle that takes me about a quarter mile away from home depot, where I get out and walk the rest of the way, then wait 2 hours for the shuttle to come back and pick me up. Over the course of 3 days, I spent about 6 hours waiting for shuttles to pick me up from the waiting spot.

Well, after I finally got it all right, I put my box back together and turned on some guitar hero 2...

I dont know if you can see it, but that little green light used to be 3ROLD. It is now a glowing green symbol of hard work, freedom, and entertainment. I played guitar hero for about an hour, then I shuttled back over to best buy and picked up Halo 3 and Madden 08. I havent played guitar hero again, and I barely opened the halo box. What I have done is played a full season of Madden with The Titans and Vince Young. I also beat Sean Williams repeatedly last night. After 4 straight losses, you would think he'd understand that I am simply better than him, but he hasnt. Point is, my weekdays were now filled with blissful, Madden 08 joy. Maybe I'l start Halo soon, but who knows?

Weekdays taken care of, I headed out to Manhattan and Brooklyn on the weekends to get my fill of the NYC lifestyle. One of the things I have started doing is watching college football at a bar on saturdays. Now, there is a reason for this. 3 weeks ago, I was invited by some friends to watch the Chargers vs. Bears game at a local bar. Turns out the bar was a Chicago Bears fan bar or something. I was in the mix with a hundred Bears fans who literally cussed me out when I jumped up in excitement. The next week, we were looking for a place to watch some college football and we walked into a Notre Dame fan bar. Not wanting to see grown men cry, we left and ended up at a Auburn fan bar. Finally I decided to find out where the #3 Cal fans go to watch the Bears play. Turns out there is a bar on 19th and 1st ave. in Manhattan where the Cal Alumni Association of New York gets together to watch the bears. I have now been there 2 weeks in a row.

Game days at M.J. Armstrong's Bar.

After the Oregon game, I went with my boys B-Walk and Clayton down to world trade center ground zero. You cant see much down there, but thats the point. The hole in the middle of the financial district is pretty ricoddamndiculous.
The sign says "Reflect". I did just that. I got reminded of why it's scary to live in New York. Just a week before I was standing in front of the Waldorf Astoria hotel, trying to hail a cab in the midst of hundreds of police, secret service, and firemen. I guess the UN Summit requires a high amount of security. All it means to me is that I was too close to the danger. When I noticed what was going on with all the police and whatnot, I stopped waiting for a cab. I jogged a couple blocks away and started waiting there... further away from the kaboom.

After visiting ground zero, I went to go meet up with my boy Steve Panawek at my other boy Adam Duritz's house.

I know what youre thinking: "Adam Duritz is your boy?" Yes he is. 10% because I played at Cal and he is a Cal fan. 90% because he already knows it's boom tho. I asked him if he would be a part of my next video (should I choose to make one) and he said he was mad that he wasnt in the second one. Then I asked him where the bathroom was and he said "Use the rockstar bathroom down to the left." Let me tell you first and foremost, I have never taken photos of another man's bathroom, and I dont intend to do it again, but sometimes you gotta do it:

I couldnt help but get a picture of what a 7X platinum plaque really looks like... and half the time this one smells like human feces because it's in his guest bathroom of all places.

Enough of the nonsense. I have been out here for a month playing basketball too. Ive seen all kinds of guys come and go. Matt Frieje? Gone. Mateen Cleaves? Here all month. It's funny because way back in January, I went on my blog and said Mateen Cleaves had a rather large head, among other things. Now, he is one of my favorite guys around here, although I don't see him fitting into a Yankees Cap anytime soon.

As the month went on, more and more guys started coming back from their summer places and showing up at the gym. I knew that a day would come where I would see J Kidd. I had a talk with my man Clayton about it a couple weeks ago. I told him that I was just gonna let the whole cousin thing go. I told him that I was sure Jason had enough family and friends without another random guy trying to claim things. Clay said that I should start a conversation based around the fact that we both attended Cal, and that from there, it would be a lot easier to lead into family business. Well, one day, I was walking through the training room and there Jason was. He was just sitting around relaxing. I kind of froze up so I kept walking as if to give the impression that I was used to seeing a big time guy like him all the time. Right then he says hi to me. I say hi back and keep it moving.

I was almost out the door when the trainer, who was seated next to him said "So what's this about you two being cousins?"

Jason looked up at him and said "What? What are you talking about?"

Oh no, I thought. Bad timing. No introduction, no Cal conversation starter, just a confused J Kidd looking at me for an explanation.

"Oh umm yea, I guess we are supposed to be related," I said. The classic downplay. "I was told we were cousins or something like that. I mean, thats what my grandfather said. So, I mean, we could be. Who knows?"

"Ok well what's his name?"

He wasn't supposed to ask any questions. This was not going well on my end.

"Clarence Kidd," I answered with a shaky tone.

"Ok. Where is he out of?"

More questions.

"Shreveport Louisiana. Like I said, you never know, right?"

"Yea, you never know."

I rushed out awkwardly. I was just completely unprepared to deal with the matter. He just showed up that day out of the blue. I went back into the locker room and sent Clay a text letting him know that Plans A and B had gone awry. I informed him of Plan C and the under-sell I used due to my lack of preparation. Clay informed me that there would be plenty of opportunities to not look like an idiot in front of him.

The first of those opportunities was actually the very next day. We had a coaches versus players softball game at Yankees stadium. Thats right, Yankees stadium.

The stadium, the legends, me, and my Nets softball jersey

Anyways, before the game, it became clear that some basketball players were never meant to swing a bat or wear a glove. I wont name names. In any case, since I have a solid baseball track record (ENC Little League Champ, '96), I played first base. Before I went over there, J Kidd asked me if I could catch. I let him know that I could, of course. He was playing short stop, meaning I would be counted on to get the job done.

When we got up to bat for the first time, Jason set up the order with guys he could count on at the top of the order. I was somewhere around 8th in the lineup. 6 RBI later, everyone knew that I had skills.

Up by one run with 2 outs in the top of the 9th, there was a hard ground ball hit right at Eddie GIll who was playing second. He fielded it, stepped on second, and threw the double play ball right to my open glove. It popped right out and both runners were safe. Sussman, who was working the PA, says to the whole stadium "Are you gonna put that in the blog?"

I could tell that everyone was now beginning to second guess my little league ability. What people failed to realize was that the ball was huge and the gloves were way too small and not broken in. First base may have been the toughest position to play.

Next batter rips one down the left field line...just foul. Real coddamn close. Next pitch he hits a hard ground ball up the middle. J Kidd runs about 20 feet and fields the ball while running left. Still running, he hurls the ball towards me and I can tell its gonna be a bang bang play. Suddenly, I realize that the ball is about to bounce about 4 feet in front of me. I stretch out as far as I can, reach my glove, and I feel the ball hit my glove as I whip my arm back up. I look at the glove and the ball is in there... just barely. Game time. How do you spell redemption? R-O-D. Take that Sussman. I hear J Kidd say something about a Cal connection. Although it was just softball, it was something more at that moment. It was a couple cousins making plays at Yankess stadium. Just call him Jeter. Call me Pujols. Call us the Cal connection (his words not mine).

After the game, workouts continued as usual. R Jeff showed his face, Vince Carter started coming in, everybody was getting in good work.

I talked with my mom on the phone the other day and she was asking a lot of motherly questions. She asked me "Does that boy Carter know that you have his shoe autographed?"

"No mom."

"Well are you gonna tell him?"

"NO MOM."

"Well wouldn't it be funny if you did?"

"Mom, I gotta go."

I felt like she was being ridiculous. Well, wouldnt you know it? Next day I am taking the sticker off the inside of my practice shorts. Vince, who sits right next to me in the locker room (or in my chair if he feels like it, who am I to tell him to move?), tells me that I can just rip the whole tag right off. I rip the tag off easily and give a look that says "Impressive". He then says "Hey, ten years."

"Ten years? You havent been in the league 10 years," I say to him.

"This is my tenth year. Yea, year number ten."

"Haha thats funny beca-"

He cut me off.

"No, I don't want to know what you were doing ten years ago," he said laughing.

"It's not that, it's just... I have had your shoe autographed in my room since I was 14. I remember when i got it. I was so happy. I was like 'Man...VC wears these? Awesome.'"

"You got them as a gift?"

"Yea. It was like the best day I had that whole year. You have been making dreams come true for 10 years now I guess."

"Well just call me Make-A-Wish then."

I guess my mom was right. I brought it up and we both got a laugh. But it is crazy to think about sometimes. I have 3 autographs in my house that matter: Tiger Woods on my junior high ID card, Kareem Abdul Jabbar on a basketball, and Vince Carter on a shoe. When I play miniature golf with Tiger, maybe we will have a similar talk.

...And then there's Jamaal Magloire. The thing about him, what makes him blog worthy I should say, is that he is just like Lil John. No, he doesn't have dreadlocks. No, he doesnt rap (to my knowledge). No, he is not from the ATL. Actually, he is probably nothing like Lil John. He is actually more like Dave Chappelles version of LIl John. If you have ever seen "A Moment in the Life of Lil John", then you know that Lil John talks with the utmost clarity, calm, and annunciation most of the time, but every now and then he gets crunk and goes "YEEAAAHHHH", "WHAATTTTT?", or "OOOKAAAAYYYY!". Basically there are two sides to him. The first time I played on the same court as Jamaal, I noticed that he is kind of a wild man. He plays like a beast, but that aint the half. He literally yells out different words depending on the situation kind of the way Lil John does. He was yelling and grunting and causing a scene. Immediately after the game, he walked over to me and said, in the most perfect english I may have ever heard, "Hello. My name is Jamaal. Aren't you so excited for the upcoming season? That's when the money comes."

I was astonished. I was thinking that there is no way this is the same guy. Its like seeing the incredible hulk turn back into Bruce Banner. This guy is so animated that you dont even have to watch the game to know whats going on. He gives his own play by play. I have composed a short list of these sounds/sayings and what they mean:

1. "HEEEEEYYYYYYYYY!"
When you hear this, it means that he was just fouled, probably while attempting a shot.
2. "NOOOOOOOOOO!"
This means he has just blocked a shot.
3. "MIIINNNNNNNEEEE!
Sounds similar to the seagulls from "finding nemo". You hear this when he grabs a rebound.
4. "YESSS!"
He is open. Get him the coddamn ball.

Now, he can combine these as well. For example: if you hear "NOO MIINNEE" it means he blocked a shot and rebounded it. You get what I'm saying?

Onto other things... The new Ping Pong power rankings are out. Now that everyone is around, here is how the guys who wield the paddle fare:

1. John Zisa (BBall Operations Assistant)
2. Jumaine Jones
3. Eddie Gill
4. Bostjan Nachbar
5. Gary (Equipment Guy)
6. Rod Benson
7. Sean Williams
8. Vince Carter

I have a lot of potential to move up in the rankings, but I have too many unforced errors. My 7'3" wingspan helps me cover a lot of ground, but my backhand is still too weak to compete. I would actually be at the bottom of the list seeing how Vince has yet to play, but since he walks by everyday and makes comments about my game, I have ranked him below me. Until he steps up and accepts my challenge, he has nothing to say to me.

Well, training camp has officially started. It was cool on media to see my name on a real NBA jersey.
better than ordering one on NBA.com

After the media hype was over, it was time to get to work. Coach Frank has basically given me more information to learn in 2 days than I have ever had in my life. Hes a funny guy off the court, but once that ball goes up, its all bout the bidness. It's kind of like taking a summer school class where you have to learn a year worth of info in 4 weeks... if that class was Molecular Toxicology. Unlike the veterans, the hardest part for me is not physical, it's mental. Not unlike any other camp guy, I've been yelled at, and I've been congratulated. As the week goes on, I have to get the yells down and the pats on the back up.

The fact of the matter is, the guys at this level are all great at something. Smart, fast, hardworking, athletic... something. After my first two days of my first training camp, it becomes easier to see the areas that I excel at at this level, and the things I have to work on and get better. It's much more black and white to me now.

My Agent, Bill, and I talked about this at length a couple weeks ago. He told me about the process and how it all works. We may have talked for like 20-30 minutes. I dont think we have ever talked that long on the phone. It showed me that he has my best interest at heart. I think he may have been a bit worried because some other guys call me and try to sway me to sign with them and go to europe, but if theres one thing I know, its loyalty. I'm all about the entree and not the sides haha. Anyways, my point is that Bill had some foresight into my camp experience and let me know how these things go. He told me to stick with it regardless what happens here, and that I will be successful regardless. To quote him: "When you make it, we are gonna get you a lot of money. You just gotta make it." I like the sound of that Bill.

Speaking of Bill... today Bill Parcells was there watching us practice. Mann its so tight seeing and meeting people you respect so much on a daily basis. I hit a jumper and I remember thinking "Big Tuna saw me knock down the J, sweet." I then wondered what I would say if I had a chance to talk to him. I realized that the questions I have were already asked...

Lastly, I want to go back to Sussman. You may know him from a little blog on the front page of NJnets.com. It's called "Sussman Sez". The first day I was at the Nets facility, he walks up to me and sez "George Benson! We need to go 1 on 1 in blogging." Since then I have been looking at his blog. It would be cool to go 1 on 1 with him, but I just don't think it's fair. I mean you can actually UNDERSTAND mine. Why? Because I don't write in stream of consciousness. What is stream of consciousness? Wikipedia says "Stream of consciousness is a literary technique that seeks to portray an individual's point of view by giving the written equivalent of the character's thought processes, either in a loose interior monologue, or in connection to his or her sensory reactions to external occurrences." In other words, I have no idea what Sussman is trying to say. Suss, if you wanna go 1 on 1, you have to play fair and make sure I can process what exactly is going on in your head baby!

If you read Sussman Sez, let me know if which blog you prefer. I will be keeping tally.

Also, there is an open practice on Saturday, if you're there, say hi. If not, send me birthday presents on Oct 10th. I have the same birthday as Brett Favre... thats how I know Im destined for greatness.

Long post, I know, but hey... you read it right?

Ode to Jenna Fischer

Rod Benson — 2007-09-16T12:53:14-07:00

If you didn't get a look at the new number 4 on my home page, Jenna Fischer has taken the place. Now, you must understand that I don't think I have any real shot of meeting her, however, I love "The Office", which she stars in. I loved her in Blades of Glory. I recently was informed that she is getting a divorce. Now, after adding her to my friends on MySpace, I have decided to write her a poem so that she knows just how I feel...

Ode to Jenna Fischer

But soft, what light breaks through yonder television?
It is the east, and Jenna Fischer is the sun
I don't mean to be silly, sick, crazy or rude
But when I watch The Office, I wanna be your dude
I cant fight like Roy, Im not as cool as Jim
But Im taller and blacker than both of them
I think if you read just a few of my blogs
Youd accept my invitation to play a game of pogs
Or Madden, or double dutch, whatever you like
Then youd never forget me, like riding a bike
I saw Blades of Glory and envied Will Farrell's right hand
Tonight you be a woman, and I'll be a man
I'm Doug and youre Patty, Im Stan and your Wendy
I'll move to LA, where we'll both be so Trendy
We could keep it a secret, make it sound like a fable
Like Monica and Bill, keep it under the table
People will say that were crazy the day that we wed
They'll compare you to Britney, and me to K Fed
Accept my MySpace friendship, that would be great
You could be my number 1, not just my top 8
Ill send you flowers like roses and daisies
If you said you wanted me, Id say back "Same-zies"
I know youve got trouble, divorces are hard
So let me take you out on my Chili's gift card
If I make the League, then youll be convinced
Just dont run off with R Jeff or Vince
On September 27th you go back to Pam Beasely
Ill be watching feeling a little bit sleazy
Imagining you and me closing my room do'
Because you already know it's boom tho!

The End.

East Coastin'

Rod Benson — 2007-09-10T12:51:55-07:00

I stepped off the plane in Newark, New Jersey and headed down to the carousel to get my bag. I spent the next 45 minutes just waiting for my bag to come out. I don't think I've ever waited so long, but it wasn't bad because I got to inspect the scenery. People were talkin with their accents which was pretty sweet. There was actually a driver waiting for me who was holding a sign that said "Benson" which was also pretty sweet. He had an accent too, another thing that was sweet. I think I heard someone use the word "wiseguy" -- again, sweet. I walked over to the towncar and got in. As we headed to the hotel I could see the New York skyline. Sweet. I also saw some really big docks. I've seen enough T.V. to know that you don't want to end up "down by the docks", which I thought was sweet. I finally got to the hotel and went to my room and laid my head down. Right before I went to bed I thought to myself "You're on the east coast. Sweet."

The next day I headed over to the Nets practice facility with a couple other guys who are also up here early to work out. The workout was real tough, but that's just how it goes. Coaches were walking around saying hi to guys and I kind of felt like a no name. Then I hear somebody say "Rod Benson!"

I turn around and one of coaches says "Dont put me in the blog."

I started laughing. Then I started coughing. Then I was damn near choking and my eyes started to water. I guess I was choking on my own spit.

He then said "Wow. I didn't mean to get you all choked up."

I tried to say something, but I just walked away. Great Rod. Somebody knows your name and you really show him your charismatic side. Such a well spoken kid, this guy Rod Benson, right? Wrong. Just a big Chokey McChoklelstein. Congratulations. Welcome to the Nets. Maybe I should try pissing my pants next time. That could make a better first impression.

As the week went on, I got used to the pace and conditioning of the workouts. They don't go long, but the workouts are very intense and tiring. It is pretty tight getting instruction from Bill Cartwright though. It's like Vince Vaughn getting a dodgeball lesson from Patches O'Hoolihan. You can't beat legendary instruction.

I've probably made one solid friend since coming out here. His name is Matt Freije. Matt is cool cause he just keeps it real and we both enjoy a good laugh. He checked out my videos and was obviously very impressed with my cinematography skills. We also go head to head a lot in the workouts. There were a couple plays where we were going at it real hard. On one play I recovered just in time to block Matt's shot. He say's to me "Mann you long armed inspector gadget fool."

The next play he up fakes me and scores. I say back to him "You crafty ass white boy coddamn."

It's pretty much the nature of our relationship. We had a free throw competition and we had both made like 15 straight, first person to miss would lose. As my 16th shot rolled around the rim and barely fell in, Matt said "So you're begging now?"

I fired back "No, I'm not your wife."

After the 3rd day, we started playing Ping Pong as part of our post workout ritual. We've gotten some other guys involved now. Justin Timberlake brought sexy back, Matt and I brought ping pong back. There are about 6 guys playing right now. Today I declared myself a second tier ping pong player, because there are a couple guys better than me, but I'm also clearly better than some guys, including Matt. Matt then says "Well if you're second tier, what does that make me?"

"It means you better hope there's a fourth tier or you're in a world of hurt." Almost too easy.

This past weekend I finally escaped the hotel and went to Manhattan. I did a lot of research online to figure out where I could get on a subway and make it out to the city. When I finally figured it out, I caught a shuttle and made my way to the subway.

I don't know what it is about this place, but it's just kind of scary. I feel like New York is just hyped up as such a tough place. Like everybody is out to get me or something. I mean I guess it comes from watching too much T.V., but I don't know. Think about it. This is the only city in the world that needs the Fantastic Four, Spiderman, and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to protect it. If you get past them, you still have to deal with various Heros from Heros, like Hiro. Then they have CSI and NYPD Blue.

My point is that New York is just scary. Way too many factors to worry about. Still, regardless of the reports that April O'Neil delivers on the channel six news about Shredder and The Foot, I felt confident enough to get on the subway train and head out. It was really sweet when I stepped out of the train station and it was underneath Madison Square Garden.

I met up with my boy who lives in a $5,000 a month luxury apartment 20 yards from the garden -- even sweeter. He basically showed me how fun New York really is. This club, that club, limo here, bottle service there, women women women. Pretty much awesome. I know that the chances of a free agent getting signed after camp are very slim, but man I feel like I need to live here. Like if I get cut maybe I'll just retire for a while and become a New Yorker regardless of how scary it is or ridiculous that sounds. This place is awesome.

I finally settled down a little bit Sunday. Perfect time to watch my fantasy football team get absolutely dominated. I felt like I yielded a pretty solid team for having the last pick in the draft, but if you wanna talk underachievement, talk Drew Brees, Reggie Bush, Terry Glenn (coddamit) Braylon Edwards.. I could go on. My highest scorer was my kicker Adam Vinatieri. They laughed at me for drafting a kicker in the 7th round. Who's laughing now? The Wyld Stallions, that's who. Yea, we're called the Wyld Stallions. I wish I could go back in time like Bill and Ted and draft Plaxico Burres instead of Terry Glenn.

Well this is a big week ahead for me. A lot more guys are showing up to work out. A lot more ping pong matches are to be played. Manhattan is calling my name, and the Wyld Stallions are looking to bounce back. Today someone else on the staff mentioned my blog. Sweet. All in all, I would say this past week has been just that.

THE GREATEST MYSPACE STORY EVER TOLD

Rod Benson — 2007-09-06T12:48:45-07:00

Normally, you come to tmrb and you see the word MySpace and get a little bit giddy. You think that the new installment of messages could have you laughing so hard that you pee your pants. Maybe your pants are still wet from the last time. Well, this time is different. This is one of those few stories that really isn't just comedy. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll curse the day you ever signed up for myspace. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. I've actually had the materials to write this story for a year. I write it today for a couple of reasons. First, and more importantly, I lost a lot of the info when my computer crashed in July, so I have to write it out while it's still fresh in my mind. Secondly, it is the one year anniversary of the day I first heard the greatest myspace story ever told...

Where do I begin? How about spring 2005? In the spring of 2005, I was just coming off my big year at CAL. I'll admit it, I felt pretty big time for like 3 weeks until I got hurt. In the meantime, I was riding my wave of emotion and hype that would lead into my senior year. My hype spilled over into my myspace page for a long time. All my pictures were of me dunking or shooting or blocking somebody's shot ferociously (Matt Haryasz haha). My page basically screamed "big time" to anyone who saw it... or so I thought.

Anyways, in about mid march 2005, I got a myspace message. I opened it. It said "Hey sexy. What's up?" If you've read anything myspace related on tmrb, you know that I get these kinds of messages all the time from these disgusting women. This day was different. When I looked at the profile of the woman before me, I saw this:

face blurted out on purpose, but who cares?

Are you thinking what I was thinking? Of course. Reply! Reply! Reply! Well, not so fast Rod Benson. I looked over her profile. She had about 600 friends and maybe 400 of them were athletes that I recognized. It was basically a who's who of pro and college athletes on myspace. I kind of felt like she was a big time groupie, but then I also thought that this was justification that I was now big time. I mean coddamn she had NFL and NBA guys on there and she wanted Rod Benson too. Recruiting for the next level I guess.

Well, I decided to back off of the initial game plan to seriously put the moves on this girl. The way I saw it, she was far too big time and making moves with guys much more big time than me. Her name was "Tiffany Burris" (I changed the name like I said). We became friends, actually, and I would always joke with her and say "Man I need to be in the NBA so girls who look like you will really want me." She would always laugh and agree.

Over the next year we would talk every now and then, mostly on Instant Messenger, but occasionally over the phone. It was during this time that I really got to know her. In the beginning, she told me that she was talking to one of my boys who was in the NBA. I informed her that I know him very well, so we would always talk about him and her and what they were doing. I even talked to him about her. He seemed to actually be a little annoyed that I knew her, like I was moving in on his territory. I told him that it didn't matter because I lived on the other side of country. Tiffany and I talked about my boy at first and then moved on to others.

There was a song that I listened to all the time called "MySpace Jump Off" which was basically about a guy who met a girl on myspace. Tiffany told me that she knew the guy who made the song and that she was the inspiration.

She told me about another NBA guy she was talking to who I didn't really know well, but definitely knew of. She informed me that he was going to fly her out for the week and that she would be nearby where I was so we should hang out. I remember thinking that this dude must really like this girl to fly her out and let her stay for the week, especially since she just got through dating my boy who is also in the NBA. I talked to her about the new guy. She told me all kinds of things about him. She told me that he was damn near in love with her and that he had no problem flying her out.

When the time came for her to make her trip, I guess she broke things off with the new NBA guy, because she never came out. Time went on and we remained pen pals of sorts. We updated each other with our happenings every now and then. The thing about it was, her happenings were always so big time. This woman IM'd me from the AFC Championship game in Denver in 2006. When she told me about the guy who flew her out there I remember thinking "Mann that guy has all kinds of skills on Madden. He's definitely a sleeper that people don't expect to have such good ratings." I let her know that I always move him up the depth charts when he is available. She laughed it off and enjoyed the rest of the game.

She then IM'd me from the NBA finals in Miami a few months later. Some dude must have paid her way down there too. Coddamit. This girl was just way too much. Over the course of the summer, she also attended Portsmouth Pre-Draft camp, Orlando Pre-Draft camp, Las Vegas and Long Beach NBA summer league. This girl was everywhere athletes were. She wasn't just a groupie, she was a super groupie. Paid trips to every sport's fan's dream locations year round, dates with the biggest of the big time, she had it all. It was after the NBA summer leagues that I didn't speak with her again. She just kind of fell off of the earth. I didn't see her on AIM any more, so I assumed she got involved in a serious relationship and gave up the AIM for a while.

Now is when the story really begins...

September 6, 2006, I was kickin it at JGant's house as usual. I was sitting in his livingroom, having many AIM conversations on this very laptop. Out of nowhere, I get an IM from this girl saying "can I talk to you for a minute?" Now when I saw this, a couple of things came to mind. First, when someone says can we talk for a minute, it never, ever is a minute. It's usually the most serious of conversations. Secondly, I didn't personally feel that we were close enough of friends to talk "for a minute".

I lost our AIM conversation when my hard drive failed, but I remember it with 97% accuracy. I will recount the conversation here to fill you in on our minute of IM-ing:

Tiffany Burris: Rod Benson:
Can you please just let me type to you?
I have some stuff I gotta get out.
Sure. Whats goin on?
I'm buggin out right now.
like buggin the F out
I want to kill myself
I'v tried to before and it scares me. I locked myself
in my room to try to calm down but I cant.
wait what? r u serious right now?
what r u talking about?
today I was driving home and I almost swerved
off the road.
when I was downstairs I grabbed a knife and
all I could think about was cutting myself
Im so scared of what I might do
whoa whoa whoa calm down dont do anything
crazy
why are you talking like this
youre right just stay in your room
cuz imagine
you wake up and its 5 years from now
and you havent had anybody
no friends not even a best friend
no family
everybody around you uses you
nobody wants you
youre embarrassed to go outside
you go to school for no reason really
you work just to pay the bills
you feel so so so so so empty inside
youre just so empty
thats my life
Dont say that
you have plenty of friends
I know a lot of them
A ton of people want you. you have plenty to be happy about
I just dont understand where your coming from
well if you had done all the bad stuff I
have in my life and had karma do this to you
youd feel the same way too
youre way too hard on yourself
you cant think so negatively
nothing youve done could have been so bad
rod ive lied to 99% of the people I know
hey I might have lied to 100, so what everybody lies
no Ive had a bad lie, wanna know?
sure if you wanna tell me
well I might as well tell you since I lied to you too

in the spring of 99 i started my freshman year of
college. during my first week I was raped, I quit the
lacrosse team I went there for, and met my future
fiance. some crazy stuff but I guess it helps you
grow as a person.

anyways one day I was driving and I started getting
dizzy. different than being drunk it was like 1000x
worse. I went to see the doctor they said my dizziness
was vertigo. They checked a bunch of stuff and found
out I had hypothyroidism.

It explained a lot because my hair had been thinning,
I had put on a lot of weight, and I hadnt had my period
in years. all separate I didnt notice, but together it
al made sense.

my fiance said hed be there for me and support me
but he left me soon after the diagnosis because of
the weight I had gained. I found out later that he had
cheated on me the whole time. I dont know why he
dated me in the first place.

anyways... some girl friends of mine knew this one girl
who is such a money hungry groupie. She so
everything you always thought I was. One day we
made a myspace pretending to be her to out her for
everything she was. I got caught up in it, I couldnt
stop. All these people wanted to be my friend because
I looked like her. They would have never even
talked to me otherwise.

It became bad because I actually made "friends" on
there. It got so bad that I tried to kill myself earlier
this summer because of the guilt or whatever.

but thats my story. I have no friends, no family.
the people who were my friends never talk
to me anymore. I dont show my face in public
because people stare at me, laugh at me.

I saw an old friend of mine the other day and
when she saw what has become of me, she
started crying.

I really have nothing to live for.

the doctor said Im on the path to being dead
by the time Im 35, Im 26.

I told your boy the other day. He was nice about it,
but I dont think he will ever talk to me again
wait wait wait

what are you saying here

are you saying that the girl in the picture is you
or it isnt you?
umm the second one
but my boy? you and him used to date, right?
I never actually met him. if I did and I looked
like that, we would have definitely had sex,
I dont think he would have accepted any
thing else
OH SNAP forreal!? That is unbelievable.

-------------------- end of conversation -------------------------

That isn't actually where the conversation ended, but that's all you really need to read. I realized that I was being insensitive to a person who needed help, so I changed the subject soon afterwards. I still had so many questions though, and not enough answers. I called up my boy Kelly who had also IMd with her in the past. I told him about the whole thing. He was just as shocked as I was. My boy who had "dated" her was also friends with Kelly. We laughed for a second at the fact that he was really hyped up on a girl who didn't exist. He actually was a little angry with me for IMing her. His girlfriend who didnt exist. Haha, classic.

Then I got to thinking. I IMed this girl, Tiffany Burris, for a year and a half. That's a long time to pretend to be someone else. I TALKED to her on the phone a couple times. She played the role there too. No way. A year and a half? No way. I got thinking some more. Did she really go to these events? Was she really at the NBA Finals? The AFC championship? Portsmouth pre draft camp? The thing is, I remember a lot of things about what she said while she was at those games. I would believe that she really was there. I actually still do believe that she really was there. Maybe she really was flown out. Maybe she really did accept tickets based on her myspace profile. Maybe she just never actually met up with these people. Maybe.

More answers were needed. As it turns out, Kelly knew a guy who was in a picture with her. I contacted this guy. Before getting back to me, he called her first. She sent me another IM the next day.

"Do you think I was lying about lying to you?"

"No, there's just so much to this."

That was the extent of our convo.

The guy, better known as B-Melt did in fact get back to me. I actually saw him at the Glen Park Classic basketball tournament about a month ago. To quote him: "Man she had so many people jockin her it was unbelievable. There's still a lot of guys who don't know that she doesn't exist. If word got out that that girl died, people would go out and get tattoos saying 'Rest In Peace Tiffany Burris.'"

B-Melt, in fact, never met her. I asked to see the photo they supposedly took together. He sent me this:

It is obviously the most photoshopped pic of all time. She definitely had Kelly fooled. B-Melt said that she sent it to him to suggest what they would look like together. He then said that the girl in these photos actually dates a real NBA player. Tiffany Burris used pictures of a girl who really dates an athlete, which I why I blurred her face. B-Melt went on to say that Tiffany, the real girl not the myspace person she pretended to be, actually did meet my boy who is in the NBA. I guess since she obviously looks completely different than the pictures he would think of, he never even knew that he met her. What's worse is that I asked my boy who "dated" her about the situation when I saw him in Vegas. He said that he heard that she was actually a HE!

I have no idea what the truth is, but I do know that this fake person had a lot of people going all over the country. All it took was some nice pictures and a myspace page to execute the project. I, Rod Benson, have done a lot of crazy things in my life, but falling in love with or making a song about or giving tickets to a girl who never existed is NOT on the list.

The End.

Don't Make Me Punch You in the Balls... Again.

Rod Benson — 2007-08-29T12:46:51-07:00

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.

Elaine Mooseman is Going Down!

Rod Benson — 2007-08-29T12:42:44-07:00

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.

The Offseason Part 4

Rod Benson — 2007-08-23T12:38:49-07:00

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.

Public Transportation/Use Your Phone

Rod Benson — 2007-08-22T12:32:07-07:00

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.

The Offseason Part 3

Rod Benson — 2007-08-02T12:27:28-07:00

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:

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.

The Greatest to Ever Come Out of Cardiff by the Sea?

Rod Benson — 2007-07-26T12:23:31-07:00

While I was home in Cardiff (San Diego), I got wind of some basketball tournament at Glen Park. Glen Park is where I grew up playing since I was 8 years old. If I was a star in EA Sports NBA Street, Glen Park would be my home court and my story would tell of days ballin at the park, drankin slurpees at 7 Eleven, then walking to the beach. Anyways, I was told that the Glen Park Classic (GPC) would be held while I was back in Cardiff. At first I had no interest in the event. Why would I? I grew up playing against these guys my whole life and I had never even heard of the GPC. Also, I spent the last two weeks guarding guys like Rudy Gay and Chris Kaman, what could really come out of participating in the GPC?

It then dawned on me that Cardiff is my town. I, through the GPC, could be crowned the greatest player Cardiff has to offer. I mean the population is only like 8,000 and there's not even a high school there, but that crown would make competing worthwhile in my mind. I had Kelly place the call to Kam Walton, cousin of NBA Star Luke Walton. They already had 6 men for the 4 on 4 affair, so he cut some guy who played his college ball at Iowa, I guess he was no Rod Benson. Our team included Kam, Adam Olson, Myself, Tyler Newton, who played at UOP, Jordan Feramisco, my former high school teammate and San Diego county player of the year, Dave Bradley, another Torrey Pines High star who actually was Iowa's punter and former roommate of Jared Reiner (small world huh?). So, exactly one week after going against Randy Foye, Corey Brewer, Rashad McCants, and Craig Smith, I was lining up against No name guy #1, #2, #3, and #4 at the GPC.

People setting up camp early at the GPC

The tourney was single elimination, 16 team tourney format. Round 1 was to 21 by one's and two's, while all other rounds were to 15 the same way. Our first game was against Team Harley Davidson. Frankly it was so easy beating this team that I was laughing during the game. We won 21-9, but it could have easily been 21-0 had we cared enough to play tough D. The team we were supposed to play in the second round watched us play our first round game and I think it worried them that we went 6'10", 6'10", 6'8", 6'5" with our starting 4, while they were 6'11", 6'3",6'2", 5'11". The big guy supposedly played at Utah State a few years back, but I had never heard of him.

So as I am watching other games waiting for our second round game, the big Utah State guy walks past me, looks me dead in the eye, all serious as can be, and says in his best "thuggish" voice: "I'll see you at one thirty." I looked at my boys like "Is this guy serious?" I wanted to tell him that I was only there to sweat out the party from the night before, but he kept it moving. Later he found me again and in the same voice as before (maybe it's just his voice) said: "The winner of our game will be the champions. I hope you know that." His words, although meaningless, did quite a good job of getting me hyped up for our game.

Once game time came, I was dunking slapping the backboard, running my mouth on every play, doing whatever to let them know who the greatest was. Well after a couple near fights between some of their guys and some of ours, I decided to shut up. Of course mr. big man threw out the "I heard good things about you and this is how you act?" line. He was the one who turned up the heat. He shouldn't be in the kitchen if he cant take the heat. As he was talking, I did a keyboard motion to Kelly and Conor, who were on the sidelines watching, basically letting them know that I would have to put this guy into the blog just because he was so out there.

After that game, we had the fast track to the finals. Yea, there were some competitive teams, but nothing stood out to me...until the final game. The guys we saw in the finals weren't big, they weren't fast, or strong, or athletic, but what they lacked in those areas they made for in heart, and intelligence and it pissed me off because they knew exactly how to work the system. We got down 7-5 in a game to 15 and I got a little worried. I pushed the ball up, and the worst ref in Cardiff (he earned the title that day too) called me for a charge, but I thought he called me for traveling, so I snapped on him. I wanted a tech so bad I could taste it. Boom. Got one tho. After their free throw, we were down 8-5, that's when we turned it up and went on a 10-2 run to end the game as champions.

It really wasn't that big a deal to me, I just felt justified in calling myself the greatest player in Cardiff now. I guess to Kam Walton it was much more. Kam had spent years trying to win the GPC Cup and had always come up short, including 2 losses in the finals. This year was different though. He proudly took the cup home with him to celebrate. I assume thats what Gary Payton did when he finally got a ring, right? Well, Kam, heck, our whole team did much more than relish the Cup. We used it.

I think the cup held something like 6 beers, yet nobody ever let it get completely full because it was way too much fun to empty it, feel me?
I came home as the forgotten son of Cardiff, and I left as the greatest. Kam got him trophy, and big man from Utah got his fill of Rod Benson. Some might even say he got too much Rod Benson.

Camp/Dive Bars (I've been told this needs a more grabby name, due to the fact that it is actually the craziest post ever).

Rod Benson — 2007-07-25T12:20:54-07:00

Finally, there was a break in the madness. A week at home in Cardiff by the Sea (North County San Diego) with no commitments, games, or pressure. I basically had just a few things on my agenda: I wanted to spend time with the fam, explore our local dive bar scene, and work my high school basketball camp for some extra cheese. Plus, I was driving a hearse all week as my transportation. Pretty much all the ingredients necessary for a crazy week.

Death Mobile

Camp:

Working bball camp is always cool for a couple reasons. For one, I get paid and it saves me from having to write the "Will work for fude. Anytheeng will help" sign I've come so close to writing before. That friday when the paychecks come is one of the most miraculous days of the year. James Rahon (found a way to get you in, buddy) and I got a little bonus money for running the "Team Offense" station. Half the time we just let the kids literally run around in circles and play tag, all James' fault, obviously. I figure coach Olive could pay me a little more, because the program funding appears to be just fine:

Best high school locker room ever

Another cool thing about camp is, of course, the kids. My kids won the championship this year, like they do every year. The youngest ones tried to tackle me again, like they do every year. The whole camp chanted "Dunk it! Dunk it! Dunk it!", they do every year. There was one difference this year, however. The kids really wanted to know who I played for. I wore a Grizzlies shirt the first day, so they all asked if I played for them. My team even voted to have our team name be "Memphis." The second day I wore a Bucks shirt and they called me traitors. One girl went home and googled me to find out everything she could about me. Kinda cool, except she stumbled upon toomuchrodbenson.com and did a lot of reading. Hopefully she got bored before she saw the good stuff.

The last cool thing about camp is the parents. They are usually awesome and love me. My favorite parent is Andy Ashby. He is a legendary pitcher in my mind and it's tight when he comes and watched me do anything. Andy Ashby could watch me clean toilets and I'd feel good about myself. This year there was another parent who I immediately moved to #2 on my parental depth chart. Basically, the only reason this parent is #2 is because she is an absolute MILF. Seriously, I don't think I've seen a better MILF ever in my life. I wanted to somehow take a picture so the world could see how hot this MILF was. She would come everyday to pick up her sons wearing these tank tops and wife beaters everyday -- teasing me on purpose, no doubt. Day two I got a pretty solid look from her. Day 3 I got a smile. Day 4 I got one of those "my head is facing left, but my eyes are staring right, right at Rod Benson" looks. I could not get a good look at her left hand to save my life. I couldn't tell if she was married or not. I got close one time, but she had her dog leash wrapped around her left hand -- teasing me on purpose, no doubt. One night while falling asleep, I had a bright Idea to ask one of her kids if his daddy ever picks him up, but when I woke up I thought that was ridiculous. I guess she will always be that mom. The mysterious mom just teasing away.

Dive Bar Circuit:

In Cardiff, there is a bar called Yogi's and in Del Mar there is one called Jimmy O's. Both owned by the same guys, they've always been the local spots where people go to enjoy themselves after a hard days work, or after surfing for hours, or when returning home from college. They also tend to have plenty of women in goofy, yet expensive, hats who are coming straight from the racetrack.

So anyways, tuesday is karaoke night at Jimmy O's, so we went there. It doesn't really feel like a karaoke atmosphere there though, because the place is packed, and nobody sings along with any of the amateur vocalists on the upper deck. It's basically like a one room dance hall with all the kids I went to high school with -- my 5 year reunion I guess. A lot of people don't know that I was one of 5 black students to spend all 4 years at Torrey Pines high school, and that is out of 3200...but I digress.

I had a serious problem with karaoke night. I had an epiphany of sorts. I decided that certain songs just should never be done at karaoke. I mean, obviously nobody should attempt Whitney Houston's Bodyguard song without expecting a Simon Cowell like reaction from me. Heck, I might walk right up and say "You are not going to Hollywood." That's a different story altogether. I decided that there are certain songs you cant sing at karaoke because it's cheating. These cheaty McCheaters out there are taking the easy way out when they do certain songs. Why is it cheating? Because everyone at the bar knows every word to the song. You don't need a coddamn mic to get 200 drunken people at a dive bar to sing these songs together in unison. I actually got kind of angry when these songs were selected. The guys on stage didn't even sing half the words, they just held the mic in the air like Brett Michaels might do if he was performing. I am calling for an outright elimination of these songs from karaoke. The worst that could happen is we get better competition and newer musical selection at these places. Maybe cheater songs are what make dive bar karaoke what it is, but I still must try. They are all great songs, but if you chose them during karaoke, you obviously have no self esteem. I composed a top 5 list of songs that should not ever be sung at a karaoke bar, in order:

5: Party Like It's 1999
It's 2007. The party is over, cheater.

4: Sweet Child 'O Mine
So the intro to this song is pretty sweet, but seriously, how many days a week can you hear this song? Where are you karaoke ethics.

3: Jack and Diane
Oh, she said karaoke goes onnn, even after the thrill of singin it's gone. Keep cheating with this one.

2: Pour Some Sugar on Me
This song might be #1 on a lot people's lists. If not for the easy-as-hell lyrics, then for the way women will yell them at the top of their lungs. This is a song that gets all the screams from the girls whenever it comes out and your cheating ass wants to karaoke it? Not cool in my book.

1: Journey - Dont Stop Believing
Clearly the #1 song on this list. People know every single word of this song. The bartenders stop serving drinks, the fights break themselves up, Osama and George Bush put their arms over each other and start belting the lyrics. I swear if you are in line outside waiting to get in, you have no choice but to start yelling out "Just a city boy, growin up in south Detrooooooiitt!" It's the only song people have free permission to sing louder than "Pour Some Sugar on Me." Using this song for karaoke is just unfair. I get that it takes balls to get up on stage in front of all of your drunken friends and sing like you're in the shower, but it takes no balls to sing this song. Everyone will help you sing it so it doesn't matter. In fact, I dare any of you who read this to try doing a karaoke night, anywhere in the U.S. Select this song. Then, right before you begin, tell everyone in the bar not to sing along. Tell them that you want to show your vocal range on this one and they can just listen to your beautiful voice make magic on the microphone. You might, nay, will get beat up, and a group of rugby players will tag team that bad boy with the help of the entire bar. Coddamn cheaters.

Back to the Dive Bars...
Yogi's was where we went the next night because it was opening day at the horse races. I was there with my boys Tommy, Kelly, some girl Kelly knew, and Matt (different that Vegas Matt). I decided to be the driver tonight so I didn't partake in the alcoholic festivities, but I still watched the action as my friends got into it. Tommy can drink ridiculous amounts, so I kept buying him triple and quadruple shots of tequila, because he kept saying that he wasnt feeling it. In the midst of all of this, I glance over, and Kareem Rush is over there just chillin. I wonder if he knows I'm the best player to ever come out of Cardiff? Anyways, this girl in that Kelly brought starts talking all crazy. "I can out drink all of you", she says. I let her know that there is no way she can keep up with any of us...it's impossible, Tommy and kelly booth outweigh me by at least 50lbs, and she weighed maybe 120.

Kelly and Tommy at Yogi's.

Anyways, she starts matching the drinks that I buy for Tommy. I mean she is seriously taking these big time shots and acting like it's nothing. Well, as I expected, she ends up just ridiculously drunk. Trouble is, SHE drove herself. Tommy and Kelly decide to taxi home early, so now it's just me and her. As the sober one, I offer to drive her home. We go outside and her car is in valet. Of course, she can't find her ticket. The guy says: "What kind of car is it?" She replies: "I have an Acura." He then asks her to describe the keychain. I can see the keychain he's holding behind his back. It has a teddy bear linked to it some how. She says back to him "I have an Acura, just give me my Acura." I stop her and say "Look, what is on your keychain that will identify your keys and help this man do his job?" She replies "Can I just have my Acura?"

She keeps up the whole Acura thing for like 3 minutes. It's incredibly annoying. The guy is frustrated and basically just goes through her glove compartment to find something her name on it so that we can get out of there. He tosses me the keys and I get to driving.

"Where do you live?" I ask her. I'm pretty sure her answer was "shednjdsst." I ask her again. "Where do you live?" She get's a little clearer, but it still sounds like "clegsisshme." I pull the car over and ask a third time. "Where do you live?" I swear this was her answer: "Craigslist."

I look over at her and say "Ok, seriously. Focus up here. Where do you live?" That's when she got angry with me. She starts cussing and yelling. "I told you muther@@@$er! I live at Craigslist!" "You clearly have a real address that is not use on internet explorer," I say back, "now where do you live?" She then calms down a bit. Finally I'm going to get a real answer. She says "L.A. Fitness. I live at L.A. Fitness." (L.A. Fitness is like 24 hour fitness) I am incredibly frustrated now. I say "One last time, where do you live?" Her calm goes away. "I told you. I keep telling you mutherf&%$er! F*^k! I live at Craigslist!"

I pick up my phone and call Kelly. "Kelly," I say into my phone, "this is over. This is your friend, I;m taking her to your house. You figure out what to do with her." After I get off the phone with Kelly, I notice that she is passed out. My focus turns from her and turns toward getting to Kelly's house. I was almost there when I saw a McDonalds. I was ridiculously hungry, so I got in the drive through. I ordered a 10 piece all-white-meat McNugget meal. The woman on the speaker says "Anything else?" I say "Nope" and pull ahead. I begin to think that maybe this girl wants some food. I turn and look over at her, and I realize that should have been paying attention. I hadn't even looked at her since she passed out because I was on the phone with other people telling them what was going on. I can't believe my eyes, but it's true, the girl has for some reason gotten out of her clothes and is now naked in the passenger seat of her car and is just playing there passed out.

Here I am, about to go pay for and get my food from the drive through window and there is a naked, passed out woman in the other seat. I've got to get my food from the drive through and somehow not look like the black guy to drugged a white girl and stole her car. I roll the window down a total of 6 inches to pay for my food. At the same time, I turn my back to the woman behind the McDonalds window, probably raising suspicion, but also covering up what was going on in the seat next to me. The woman takes the money and goes back to get my food ready. That is when I violently begin to try to wake this girl up and tell her to put her coddamn clothes back on. She is un-reponsive. The woman returns with my 42 ounce soda, of which 4 ounces spill on my lap as I work it through the 6 inches of open window space. I get my food, back to the lady, and drive to Kelly's house. When Kelly sees what has happened, he can't believe it. I say to him "Mann this girl is crazy, she kept talkin about craigslist and whatnot, then get takes her clothes off for no reason." He says "Yea, it aint the first time. Give me her keys." I toss him the keys and go to bed. I have told this story to all of my close friends and none of them can believe it. But you know what? I can believe it, because crazy things like this seem to always happen around me. Plus, Kelly says he has hooked up with this girl, so I know she's crazy. I should refrain from the driver role next time. I bet people who are designated drivers see alot of things they were never meant to see.

Best Week Ever

Rod Benson — 2007-07-24T12:19:19-07:00

Basically, I have decided that I now love Las Vegas. The last time I was there, I had an O.K. time. In the "I'm Not Big TIme" and "You've Got to be Kidding Me" entries, I watched the beautiful celebrities splash champagne in the VIP while I was crowded on the dance floor. This last trip was very different my friends. Why was it so diffewrent this time? Hmm I dunno. Maybe it had a little something to do with the fact that I was there with the Memphis Grizzlies. Yea, that was it. I was in town with 20 NBA teams. It makes a little bit of a difference. Oh yea, I happened to be staying at The Venetian ... eeevvverrr heard of it?

You haven't heard of it? Well take a look at both of the plasma TVs that were in my room. There was also a 20 inch LCD in the bathroom which could easily be seen through the glass shower doors. The downstairs TV was actually an LCD too and was only 32 inches, whereas the upstairs one was a full 42 inch plasma. Sorry, I had correct myself on the awesomeness of my room. Once I saw the room, I knew this was going to be the best week ever. It only got better...

So, we played a game on the first Friday and had 2 days before our next game on Monday. Perfect. Nice. When we got out of our game, it was about 7. Got back to the Hotel at 8 after dinner. I call down to TAO Nightclub and tell them that I want to be added to the guestlist. They inform me that the list closes at 7pm. I say "Well that's a shame because my teammates and I thought we could get on a list." They ask me what team. I then say "Memphis Grizzles." I hear plenty of typing and then "O.K. my sincerest apologies Mr. Benson. I have Benson plus six on the list. Is there anything else I can do for you?" "Nope," I reply, "that will be all."

That was the first time I've ever gotten such treatment. The night would only get sweeter. When we got into TAO some other NBA guys (names much bigger than Rod Benson) already had a VIP booth reserved. Some of us knew some of them and all of a sudden, I find myself in VIP at TAO. The sweet thing about this was that our booth was next to the main walkway, so we all just stood out at the front of the booth. This is no joke, whatever girl I asked to come chill with me in the booth said yes. Every single one. I'm talkin striaght up ready like spaghetti. I've never had such a great success rate. It was like being the lone fisherman, in a clear pond, fishing for record sized, starving fish. My bait? Good looks and NBA promises.

After our game on monday, we had another two days off. It was that monday night that I had the best night ever. I had my 32 ounce steak at Outback -- delicious. Then I headed back to the hotel. As I was making my way towards the elevators to go to my room, I saw a kid who I hadn't seen since high school. He tells me about how successful he is nowadays and that he gambles so much that they comp his room at The Venetian. He then asks me if I want to go gamble with him. I let him know that I have no intention of gambling because my Per Diem has to last me for weeks after summer league. He says: "Hey, don't worry about it. I'll give you a couple hundred, lets just go." How could I turn that offer down?

We sat down at the blackjack tables and got to work. I got down to $50 very fast. I then won 5 straight hands to get up to $400. I then got up, gave my boy his $200 back, and went to my room -- $200 richer.

I wasn't sure if I was gonna go out that night or not, but my boy Matt wanted to check out some club at the Palms. We caught a cab over there and the place was dead. We then decided to check out Pure. I let it be known that the last time I was at Pure, I hated it. Somehow we still decided to go.

When we got to Pure, it was almost the same scene as I remembered from last time. I was standing at the end of a very long line that would take about an hour to get to the front of. It was right then that the similarities to my last trip ceased to exist.

"Rod Benson," I hear someone call from a short distance, "are you Rod Benson?" I tell him that I am indeed Rod Benson. He then says to me: "Your blog is awesome and I watched you play in the summer league man, good stuff. Anyways, we have a list in VIP. Just go up to the front and say the name Adrian Abello."

So I walk right up to the front and stand in the VIP line. The guys says: "Name?" I reply "Adrian Abello." He checks his list and lets us in. BOOM Tho. Well, actually, since Matt got in too, BOOM got them DOS!

I get in and make a couple laps. The pussycat doll burlesque is in full effect. Some people think that I'm in a strip club or something in "Boom got them DOS!", but it's actually inside of Pure during the pussycat doll show. Anyways, I keep moving and I notice a couple NBA vets have a VIP table. Turns out again that some of us knew some of them and now I'm in the VIP son. Im talkin about Grey Goose and Courvoisier son in the VIP like rockstars. It gets better.

The bouncer says to me that I can bring a girl in but she has to look good. I say to him that I don't see any immediately. He then invites me to take a walk with him. We walk to the elevator and go to the outside part of the club. He then says a pretty amazing statement to me. "Pick one." "What do you mean pick?", I say back to him. He then says "I mean tell me which girl you want to talk to and I'll get her over here."

I stood there and started thinking to myself. Could this be real? It didn't seem real at all. I guess I was daydreaming for longer than I thought because he came up to me and said "Do you see that girl over there? I told her you wanted her to come to VIP with you, but she thinks you're out of her league. Anyways, my job is done here. See you back downstairs."

So, now I'm downstairs, in VIP, with NBA stars, sipping courvoisier (actually, probably obnoxiously, repeating the phrase "pass the courvoisier"), with a girl who ROD BENSON is out of her league. There's pretty much nothing that can make this moment any sweeter.

And then I hear someone bark into a microphone. "Grrrrr. Arf, Arf!" No way is it DMX having a surprise performance up on the stage. I might have shed a single, joyous tear right at that moment. I couldn't have scripted the night any better than what really happened. DMX rocked the house. Mann he must have performed like 6 songs. I looked at him, then at her, then at the Courvoisier, and decided right then and there that these times must go on. I must make the NBA. I must.
See the joy and disbelief in my eyes? The VIP has that effect on a brotha!

GRRRRR ARF ARF! DMX up on the DJ Booth getting loose son!

I now have 2 very specific and related goals:

Goal 1: Make the NBA at all costs.
Goal 2: Use my NBA-ness to get into a party that Megan Fox is at (See Transformers) and hope that she finds me to be out of her league.

Everything else is just details.

The Offseason Part 2

Rod Benson — 2007-07-23T12:15:44-07:00

Wow, has it really been a month since I last posted something? I swear I've nearly had my life threatened by people waiting for me to post my new blog. Well, there have been a couple of reasons for my delay. For starters, my hard drive crashed on my macbook, putting me out of commission for a few weeks. Then there was this little matter of playing in the NBA Vegas Summer League. So, I guess I'll just pick up where I ended the last post...

After working out for Golden State, I had a couple days off before traveling out to Memphis for their mini-camp. This camp was unique from the others for two reasons: it was after the draft, and it was directly before summer league. This meant that first round pick Michael Conley Jr. was there as well as Rudy Gay, Kyle Lowry, Tarrence Kinsey, and Alexander Johnson -- guys who are actually getting paid.

I got in the day before the camp started and was the last person to fill out paper work and get a physical. As I have stated many times before, I hate doing the "grab my balls" test, so I was pretty happy to see that guys were getting their physicals done in the open area of the trainers room, eliminating the possibilty of such a check. As it turns out, those guys were returning players so they didn't need to get re-checked. I was promptly walked to the back room where the doctor, while doing the balls test, began to tell me why they do the test. He told me the story about how Lance Armstrong, while doing this very test, was found to have testicular cancer. He told that, because of that, it's becoming a much more widely used test, even on younger athletes like myself. He told me that I could even give myself the test. To quote him: "nobody knows your balls like you." It was then that I realized he had been talking for like a minute and a half telling me all these stories, and his fingers were still on my balls! We both must have lost track of time.

The next day I got to the locker room and saw that they had given me jersey number 4 -- Stromile Swift's number, not the Rod Benson 0. Not only that, but they put me in Stromile's locker as well:

I was obviously pretty hyped about the whole thing seeing that I took a photo of the locker.

We got to work on the court for the next two days. It was actually a lot of fun for me to go head to head with all these guys who had much bigger names than me, even though Rudy Gay dunked on me so viciously that I considered retirement. Still, I had my fair share of nice plays offensively and defensively. Like Golden State, after the first day, Tony Barone approached me and congratulated me on my performance on that day. It's small potatoes in the grand scheme of things, but guys like me never forget comments like those. I can pretty much remember every nice thing a coach I respected ever said to me. It dates back to the 5 and 6 year old division of the Boys and Girls club basketball league. "Rod, you're doing a great job of being tall," my coach said after my first couple of plays. Then 5 minutes later it was: "A basketball is not for kicking." I haven't kicked a ball since.

The second day of practice was considerably tougher mainly because it included our 4th practice in 2 days. Roger Powell, David Bluthenthal, and I won the shooting competition, earning "respect" as coach Iaveroni put it. I was also upgraded to the first team for the day which I took as a good sign.

After the second practice, I was so tired I could hardly walk, but I still took a little time to check out the surrounding area, which I concluded was pretty tight. I could definitely have a lot of fun in memphis. They say Austin is the live music capitol of the world, but Memphis has to be right at #2 if that's the case. Every single place has live music, and a couple places have dueling pianos inside -- I love dueling piano bars.

Now it was time to head to Vegas. We had practice the day we arrived, which sucked because my body was so tired. But since everyone was tired, it was just something I had to deal with.

We practiced in the same spot where the 2007 NBA Dunk contestants practiced (I think). I came to this conclusion because this was one of our baskets:
If you look closely, those are Dwight Howard's stickers up there around 12 feet. I can barely touch the bottom of the lower one, let alone slap it up there and catch an alley-oop. Props to Dwight Howard.

The first day of summer league was pretty much amazing. I got the starting job, which I didn't quite expect. I got to go up against 2 NBA post players in Zhi Zhi and Jianlian. I got to see Rudy Gay completely humiliate Yi in the open court (I felt better about Rudy dunking on me -- I guess he is Rudy Gay). I got to wear a jersey that had an NBA team name on the front and my name on the back. I know it's just summer league, but you cant beat that. I mean, I'm not that guy who is used to this kind of thing. I'm the guy who was pretty much starstruck by Tim Cowlishaw when he walked by me in Dallas a year ago, and mesmerized by David Aldridge who was watching a couple of our games. I got a fast break lay up and one of the first things I thought was "I wonder if David Aldridge saw that?"

We had a couple practices between game one and game two. The noteworthy thing from the two days didn't happen during the practice itself, but afterwards. See, we had this kid assisting us with water and towels and whatever else we needed. After the second practice, we were walking to the car. It was a record for the hottest day in Vegas that day. I think it was 120 degrees. It basically felt like it does when you put your face under water while in a Jacuzzi. Anyways, somebody decides to pay this kid $100 to sprint as fast as he can, in this heat, to the other side of the football field, touch the goal post, and back. It was probably 220 yards total, but the kid did it. I was pretty sure that he would die of heat exhaustion, but his will to live and spend that $100 must have kept him going.

The second game was against Detroit. The first thing to note about this game was that I had 12 points, not 10 like the stat sheet said. I don't know where my two points went, but I will be searching feverishly until I find out. Although we lost the game, I thought we played well, we just didnt shoot well as a team. It was on this day that my love affair with Mike Conley began. Running the pick and roll with this guy is like a dream. No matter where I was on the court, he could find me. I bet that Mike Conley could find Osama Bin Laden...if he was open.

The third game was special for a few reasons. For one, I got to go head to head with my former teammate Darius Rice. Last time I saw him was the night of his 52 point performance. The second reason was that Coach David Joeger ran the head coaching duties for the game. Lastly, because I played well and the team won big. Coach actually took me out early to preserve my legs for the next game, acknowledging the fact that we had the game in the bag and that he thought I played well.

Game 4 was offensively the opposite of game 3, for the team and myself both. There was still something cool about the game however. First of all, Chris Kaman was on the Clippers summer league roster. I thought it was pretty awesome that I got to go head to head with one of the best centers in the game today. It was even better when it turned out that he was one of those guys who runs his mouth. It really got me fired up to guard him. He only hit me for 2 points all game (yea, only 2) and I thought I did a good job of frustrating him. At the end of the day, we still lost the game though and he did still have 19 and 11. But I feel like as far as my post defense learning curve goes, that was a big boost.

Game 5 concluded 14 days straight of practice or games (we actually did have one day off in the middle) and the 3rd game in 3 days. I felt exhausted pretty much the whole game. I would call that game my worst all around because I did nothing well and I felt terrible the whole time.

After the game, all the fans wanted us to give them our gear. I threw one guy a shoe and the other shoe went to a kid. Then I gave my shooting shirt to the same kid who sprinted the football field. The people didnt stop asking me for gear though. I was shoeless and shirtless and they still wouldn't be satisfied until I was completely naked and they had my socks. I guess they assume that we are NBA guys so we can buy it all again. They don't know that I can't.

Well, my future is still up in the air for right now. Who knows where I'll be in the coming months? My boy Roger Powell just signed to go to Italy, a smart choice, the rational choice, but it is hard to be rational in a situation like mine. Chance it and stay here, knowing that getting cut is another D-League ticket? Go overseas and make money and never have $8 in my wallet again? I guess only time will tell, but I'll tell you this, if I have a legitimate shot, I'm goin for it, because I know what I can do.

The Offseason

Rod Benson — 2007-06-25T12:13:55-07:00

While the college kids are preparing for the NBA Draft, us older guys are out trying to take the free agent route. So a couple of weeks ago, I got a call from my agent. He said that it was time for me to start making NBA related moves, the first of which was a free agent camp in Milwaukee. It’s always nice to say that you’re going to Milwaukee for mini-camp, rather than saying: “yea, I’m just kinda hanging out until I hear something.” People think you’re wasting your life away when you don’t have actual dates and teams. It’s also nice to get that Per Diem for everyday that you workout. I didn’t exactly make the big bucks this past year, so every dollar counts. My agent called me the “dumbest Berkeley kid ever” for not telling him that I only had $8 to my name (I needed him to book a shuttle for me from the airport to the hotel when I landed in Milwaukee). That’s how it goes sometimes.

So I arrive at the Hyatt Regency in Milwaukee and the first thing I have to do is use the bathroom, but I refuse. I know that we have physicals in 10 minutes and if they weigh me, then that extra 2 lbs could come in handy. 221 looks better than 219 any day of the week, so I hold it. Turns out that there is no weigh in, just the typical physical.

I did feel lied to a little bit because the doctor said to me: “I do my physical a little differently. I only check the things that are sports related.” That got me excited, because I thought to myself: “Yes, he won’t have to grab my balls and make me cough, because that’s definitely NOT sports related.” Then he says “Pull down your pants, turn your head to the left, and cough. I need to check your testis.”

After the physical, there was a meeting. I got to see who all was there at the mini-camp. I recognized Aaron Miles, Omar Cook, James Thomas, Lionel Chalmers, Matt Haryasz, Renaldo Major, and some others. These things are like NCAA tournament memory lane. Everyone talks about their games against rivals and whatnot.

Matt Haryasz (I pronounce it Hairyass) had plenty to say about the Cal – Stanford rivalry, but I mean they DID beat us 6 of 8 times, so he can pretty much say whatever he wants. One thing we could all agree on was that toomuchrodbenson.com was hot and that “BOOM Got Them DOS!” was even hotter. Matt couldn’t stop laughing at Luke Jackson’s cameo.

The camp itself went pretty well. I got a lot of feedback about my game, and good mentorship from some of the older guys. My agent informed me that the Warriors wanted me to attend their free agent workouts as well. So right after my 3 days in Milwaukee were up, I headed back to the Bay Area for a 2 day camp with Golden State.

This time the list of participants included my ex teammate Joe Shipp, and former UCLA stars Toby Bailey, and Jelani McCoy. Yep, you read that right… TOBY BAILEY and JELANI MCCOY. Toby Bailey was the man back in the day. I told him that I used to watch him when I was in 4th grade. He said: “You gonna act like I’m an old man?” I said: “Hey, it’s not how you look, it’s how you feel.” He then replied: “So you’re saying I look old then?”

I wasn’t exactly saying that he looks old. I guess in a way, it’s very weird competing for a spot with a guy who’s name hasn’t rung a bell since the 1995 NCAA Championship. I guess in a way, he IS old. I mean, let’s really think about it. He got to UCLA in 1994. In 1994 I was 9 years old. I got to thinking…who exactly was Rod Benson when Toby Bailey was at UCLA?

In 1994 I…
Loved Power Rangers, Ninja Turtles, Doug, GUTS, Family Double Dare, Family Matters, Step by Sep, Fresh Prince, and of course, with moms permission, In Living Color.

Was the Boys and Girls club champion in many events, including: paper airplanes, foosball, prisonball, and air hockey.

Won the Ada Harris Elementary School Olympic day blue ribbon (first place) in 100 yd. dash, 4x100 relay, and standing broad jump.

Was ridiculously hyped that Rice Crispy Treats started being sold by Kellogs, making my recess snack complete

Finally got a big enough shoe size to fit into these hand me down Nike Air Flights that had always been too big.

Was playing POGS for keeps on a regular basis, and winning.

Played soccer, and was absolutely terrible. I played the least minutes and led the league in fouls.

Was discovering my talents as a natural born video gamer on my Super Nintendo. Super Mario All-Stars and Ken Griffey Junior presents Major League Baseball were awesome.

Was not a Ken Griffey fan, but instead a Frank Thomas fan, who was collecting Frank cards with a passion.

Watched Toby Bailey on his way towards becoming the 4th leading scorer in UCLA history. That’s how old school Toby Bailey is.

Back to the workout, it was very weird asking Toby Bailey to come off the ball screen and look for me on the pop. But we got it done. It was pretty cool when he was watching “BOOM Got Them DOS!” in the locker room. He couldn’t contain himself when I said “I’m like K.G. except I ain’t worth a dollar.”

Before we started the workout, I heard one of the 2 greatest things I’ve ever heard. Don Nelson made it a point to say that on the Warriors, the posts don’t post on the block, they post on the elbow or not at all. They set ball screens and run the floor. GREAT news. That’s like telling a fat girl that there is a free buffet all night!

After the workouts, I heard second of the two the greatest things I’ve ever heard. Don Nelson walks up to me (already awesome because I’m pretty much starstruck by a man with so much basketball clout) and says: “Rod, I really enjoyed watching you play. You’re in pretty good shape, huh?” I didn’t really know how to respond. It was like those T.V. shows where a hot girl approaches the guy who has been eyeing her but is clearly not on her level, then the guy stumbles over his words and looks stupid. I said back: “I mean, umm yea, I could be better.” Then Don Nelson replies: “Well, you’re in better shape than these guys. You run the floor really well.” I stood there kind of awkwardly as he walked away. I was so giddy that I couldn’t really put myself together -- I might as well have just been propositioned by Jessica Biel.

I can pretty much end it there, and I will. I’ve got some more workouts and whatnot leading up to the summer league. I’ll keep you posted

Funny MySpace Messages 7

Rod Benson — 2007-06-18T11:28:22-07:00

It’s been just over 2 months since the last installment of funny myspace messages. I must say, I’ve had so many during the past few months, that I left quite a few of them out. Well, there’s no time to waste time, so let’s get this started.

I’ll pick up where I left off last time, with “Sweet Ann” from part 6. If you don’t remember her, just go back. She had sent me something like 10 messages in a 2 week period. This was the 11th:

Miss u much!
Body:    Hey boo! How we doing today. Just strolling down your page to show u some love. So what have u been up to lately. Hope all is good for u as it is for me. Just missing u right now. Just thought I make your day good with me in it. Smile It's good for the soul! I now your busy with work and all, If u have time holla at your gurl!!

SweetAnn

In case you forgot, my “work” included catching the worlds biggest squid off the pacific coast. I guess she just wanted some Rod Benson...

This girl did too:

This is what she sent me:

WHAT UP
Body:    What up my n*gga you member talkin to me sexy

...umm no, I don’t. I can pretty much guarantee that I have never talked to her day in my life. Ever. Actually, I absolutely guarantee it. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, but nope, just can’t do it.

I also never talked to this girl:

I don’t think that she noticed...

Subject: n/a
Body:    jus stoppin by to say thanx for the add. Holla atcha girl when you get a chance

She put that the “Subject” of the message was “n/a”. I’ve never seen anyone do that before. I didn’t reply because my response was not applicable.

Well, like I said, she didn’t seem to notice:

Subject: No Subject
Body:    hey mr man haven't heard from u in a little minute, holla atcha girl when you get a chance

Hmm, did you not notice that I never talked to you? Of course you haven’t heard from me in a minute, you’ve never heard from me ever in your life. Don’t play games.

I guess I should have assumed that she would play games. Even though she’s 22 years old, her display name is $$r!d@-d!3-ch!ck$$. We’ve got another coddamn coded name. I think it means “$$ Ride or Die Chick $$”... I think. What it really means is that she might as well be 14 years old. How can someone be 22 years old and spend their time making up conversations and encoding words? Those things should be left to the youngins...

...much like:

Skiitles & Jiizz♥[ilavj]
            "dey wut ii do best♥"

Female
17 years old
nAsHuA (Or ArOuNd ThUrRrR), New Hampshire
United States

This girl is only 17, but she’s just like the rest of them. I have no idea what her display name means. She sent me this:

sy wus gud do ii kno u?
♥keyshiia

I’m doing my best to decode this. Are you saying “Hey, what’s good, do I know you?” If so, no, I don’t know you! Why do people keep asking me? I’m anonymous! I don’t know any 17 year olds from New Hampshire (or around thurr) and I probably never will.

Why do these people think they know me, or that we have talked? Is this the new way of getting at people? At least the next girl was old fashioned...somewhat...

She is obviously the type of girl who normally sends me messages, so I wasn’t surprised when I got this:

hey
Body:    hey waz up i seen you were on and wanted to say waz up holla back i love your hat how is the weather there i beat it is nice as hell hu well holla back

Aww thanks. You love my hat? Sweet. The weather? Awesome, thanks for asking. You beat it is nice as hell? You were right, the beat is nice...I think.

I knew that he profile would have a couple laughers on it, and I was right:

I found this right on her front page. I understand that self esteem is everything, so if she thinks that she’s a “dimepiece” then she can go right on ahead. The fact that it’s on her profile is ridiculous to me though. She must have been sitting there thinking “Wow, you’re so hot today. You’re such a dimepiece. You should put it on your myspace profile right away so that when you message these people, they will have to agree.”

Maybe it works, maybe it doesn’t, but I’ll tell you what I definitely didn’t agree with:

This girl has a coddamn celebrity look-alikes thing on her page. It features such “dimepieces” as Ali Landry and Nikki Cox. That is just a coddamn shame. I would let Nikki Cox mother my children. I would not let this girl babysit them for fear that they would come home dumber than when I sent them off. When I saw this celebrity look-alikes thing I almost kicked my lap-top over. How can she seriously put this up, confidently, and mean it? Rosanne Barr is not on there! I don’t see one girl from the movie “Shallow Hal” on there. Those are the look-alikes, not Hayden Pannettiere. She put her coddamn face right in the middle and I’m supposed to look at this and say “Wow, oh my. She’s so right!”

Wanna know who my celebrity look-alikes are? Denzel Washington, Tyson Beckford, David Beckham, Justin Timberlake, Usher, Leonardo DiCaprio, and of course Morris Chestnut. Does that sound ridiculous? It shouldn’t. Its actually 1,000,000 times more realistic that I get mistaken for Sean Connery than it is for her to get mistaken for Nikki coddamn Cox!

One thing I will say about this woman is that she didn’t lie to me. What I saw was what I got. Her front pic matched every other pic on her page. I can’t say the same for “Ocblkbarbie”:

When you come across a profile sometimes, you see photos like this, and you think to yourself that this girl aint so bad. She might even have a few “look-alikes”. I, personally, never trust a main photo. I need to see photo’s from different days with different outfits. I need to see photo’s that aren’t at all blurry. I need to see the whole body in the picture, not just a face and not just a body pic. I check all these things because it’s the only way to make sure that I’m really looking at the real person.

I came across “OCBlkbarbie” because she sent hate mail to one of my friends. It was some “stay away from my man” type stuff. When I found her page on myspace, I saw the two pics above and I immediately became suspicious because she looks like two different people...a very common myspace thing. I clicked once more and discovered what she really looked like:

I don’t know what’s worse: fooling yourself into thinking you’re a supermodel, or trying to fool everyone else into thinking you’re skinny and attractive. It makes you wonder how she pulled off the first couple of pics... the world may never know.

I do know the kind of message I never wanna see again:

Subject: would u...............
Body:    would u let me suc ur d*c

Especially not from:

Too many people are out there just playin games. Is that a money bandana or a little rag to clean off your mouth when you get done, kid? The answer is no, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t even let a random woman off MYSPACE come at me like that, let alone you. Not to mention that you’re 16. Sweet. Now I’ve got underage girls AND boys throwing themselves at me. It never stops...

These 3 women all have the same thing in common...they’re underage and over-hyped up on Rod Benson:

“ThE OfFiCiAl MySpAcE PaGe of ThE GrEaT J~MAC”

Subject: No Subject
Body:    hey whud up? so wassup w/u?

1. Grow up.
2. Don’t ever ask me the same question twice, ever.
3. Is the booty shot reaaalllly necessary? It doesn’t prove anything except that you have one.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“THE SAVAGE QUEEN IS BACK WIT AU HOLE NEW PAGE"

Female
16 years old
SHREVEPORT, Louisiana

Subject: u look so young
Body: n u have a nice smile u r so sexy

1. Get a real photo, grown men don’t go for tweety pix.
2. Psych! I wouldn’t go for you anyways because you haven’t passed geometry yet.
3. Just because you think I look so young, doesn’t mean that I am.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Tasha”

Subject: CAN YOU
Body:    COMMENT MY NEW PROM PICS PLEASE.

2 months later..

Subject:    hey
Body:    what's good with you?

1. If you just got home from prom, you’re a few years too young.
2. Why did the caption under this photo read “Ms. Prom Queen of 2007”? Yea right, and your celebrity look-alike is Jessica Alba.
3. DON’T MESSAGE ME AGAIN IF I DON’T MESSAGE YOU BACK.

These women still pale in comparison to
a good old message from Clayton:

rod, this is the most disgusting note ive ever received on myspace...what is he world coming too?

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Jason
Date: Mar 16, 2007 4:03 PM

WOULD U LET A N*GGA DEEP THROAT YA D*CK

Sorry Clay, I really don’t know what the world is coming to, honestly. I mean you’re getting propositioned with deep throat and I’m getting messages like this:

Subject: Question
Body:    Do you ever attend swinger parties here in LA?

Clay, if you can top that let me know. Oh you think you can? Well maybe you should take a dive into the world of the so cal mandingos club. The only picture I could get was this one:

Needless to say, when I got this message, I laughed, then kept it moving. No reply to such things. Well, as it turns out, I got an instant message a couple of weeks later. This is how it went. Please note that I only expressed interest to get more info for you, my readers. Also be advised that this is a long convo and that Mr. Mandingo uses language that is a bit crazy.

4/4/07, 10:35 AM
socalimandingos: What's going on man
10:40 AM
socalimandingos: I sent you a note on MySpace on Monday. Dont know if you received it
10:45 AM
rodrique benson: regarding?
10:50 AM
socalimandingos: I asked if you attend swinger parties here in LA since I host them.
rodrique benson: i dont even know what that is
socalimandingos: lol... they are basically orgies where sexy ladies get together with brothas to have a good time.
11:00 AM
rodrique benson: sounds a bit ridiculous
socalimandingos: ridiculous? how so? they are swinger parties.
11:05 AM
rodrique benson: haha i mean it just sounds ridiculous
rodrique benson: like a porno
socalimandingos: um, its far from it considering these are upscale types.. CEOs, entertainers, athletes, lawyers, doctors, etc.
rodrique benson: for real? all those big time people go to swinger parties?
socalimandingos: hell yes
socalimandingos: People with professional careers that enjoy having some fun and letting loose with other quality folk.
11:10 AM
socalimandingos: You've never ran trains or had any threesomes?
rodrique benson: naww i aint into the man on man thing and I havent been lucky enough to get 2 girls together
rodrique benson: but is that what it basically is?
rodrique benson: trains and 3 ways?
socalimandingos: I dont know what you're talking about... there is no gay shit involved..
rodrique benson: i mean a train has 2 men
rodrique benson: i was just saying
rodrique benson: i didn tthink u meant it was gay
socalimandingos: It's orgies.... 3 ways.... but most cats out there have ran trains on chicks before with their friends, so thats why i asked if you had ever ran any
socalimandingos: understood
11:15 AM
socalimandingos: so you dont know if you'd be comfortable laying pipe on ladies in group situations with other ladies around getting piped?
11:20 AM
rodrique benson: hahaha
rodrique benson: i mean mann i dunno
rodrique benson: i cant have something like that gettin out
socalimandingos: what part of CEOs, lawyers, athletes and entertainers didn't you understand?
socalimandingos: you think they would be doing it if it got out?
11:25 AM
socalimandingos: Are you originally from LA?
rodrique benson: san diego
socalimandingos: That's cool. How long have you been in LA
rodrique benson: 8 months
socalimandingos: How do you like it so far
11:30 AM
rodrique benson: its not bad
rodrique benson: traffic too much
socalimandingos: lot of flash, not much substance lol
socalimandingos: what do you do for a living out here?
11:40 AM
socalimandingos: Still there?
11:45 AM
rodrique benson: so u participate in these things urself or just facilitate them?
socalimandingos: yep, gotta participate man. c'mon now
socalimandingos: what you do for a living out here in LA LA land
11:50 AM
rodrique benson: unemployed really
rodrique benson: working on some basketball stuff
socalimandingos: oh damn
socalimandingos: well, there's alot to do in LA man
socalimandingos: you can always try the acting route
socalimandingos: unless you dont have acting skills
socalimandingos: or you can try the corporate route.... lot of them jobs available
rodrique benson: how did u get into facilitating these things?
rodrique benson: sounds like a good job haha
socalimandingos: Started my freshman year at UCLA
socalimandingos: just some of the homies and some freaks we knew
socalimandingos: since then, the shit really done grew
11:55 AM
socalimandingos: you must be staying with family out here cause there's no way you can survive here without having a job lol
rodrique benson: my homies from ucla actually
socalimandingos: oh okay. that's cool.
socalimandingos: so you dont know if you're comfortable laying pipe on ladies in group situations? nothing some liquor cant help with lol
12:00 PM
socalimandingos: Have you ever heard of The Mandingo Club?
12:05 PM
rodrique benson: sounds familiar
socalimandingos: You got time right now so I can give you a run down?
rodrique benson: sure
socalimandingos: bet
socalimandingos: We host Private Upscale Interracial Swing Parties wherein Professional Couples, Ladies and Select-Brothas get together to network, socialize, and eventually indulge in their innermost fantasies. You'd be amazed my man, at how many sexy women out there just need to be in the right environment to unleash their 'inner freak'.
12:10 PM
socalimandingos: The parties are Members-Only. The membership base is made up of professionals from all walks of life-- Athletes, Entertainers, Adult Entertainers, High ranking Gov't/Law Officials, Corporate CEOs, Doctors, Lawyers, Cops. You name it, they're swinging my man! Basically people that have professional careers by day, who enjoy partying and having fun with like-minded people who share the same interests. Ultimately, we all get to live out our wildest fantasies.
socalimandingos: Still there?
12:15 PM
rodrique benson: yea i am
socalimandingos: ok, i'll continue
socalimandingos: I started the organization back in 1996 as a freshman at UCLA. Back then, it was merely a few friends and colleagues, having fun on Friday nights. Enjoying the company of ladies, and getting drunk. Typical college shit, ya know? Since then, things have blossomed into what it is today. We have chapters in Atlanta/Miami, NYC/NJ and here in Cali/Vegas.
12:25 PM
socalimandingos: The way the parties go, the Couples, Ladies and Brothas arrive at the party house. Everyone dressed to impress. The evening starts off with folks socializing, networking [Networking is a big aspect of these parties as we all have professional careers], drinking/smoking, basically getting to know each other. As the evening goes on, you begin to notice heavy sexual overtones- Ladies changing into lingerie, fellas eating pussy, ladies sucking cock. Before you know it, everyone is going at it, one wild orgy.
12:30 PM
socalimandingos: For the record, all the Ladies are Bi. All the Brothas are STRAIGHT. We don't get down with bi, gay or DL guys.... That's not our style, and that's even more a reason why we are a private organization.
socalimandingos: The parties take place in private homes of members throughout LA, OC, Vegas. The parties range in size-- Small and Large. Small parties tend to have about 4-6 people at most. These small parties tend to be what I start rookies off with (like yourself), so you can get your 'feet wet' and eventually work your way up to the bigger parties. The bigger parties tend to have between 20-25 people.
12:35 PM
socalimandingos: The parties never get larger than that, because we're not trying to create a 'sausage fest', if you know what I mean. I like to keep the ratio of ladies to men about even or at most 1:2. Parties are 2-3 times a month, on weekends.
socalimandingos: U still there?
rodrique benson: yea
socalimandingos: Did you read everything I wrote?
rodrique benson: yep
socalimandingos: Good.

SO yea, basically, I dont even have to say much to that. It just shows what I deal with regularly when it comes to myspace. I get people with crazy ideas all the time. I mean I still get the occasional friend request from a seemingly normal person:

and then I see that their page says this:

About me:
hi my name is shonda and i am a good person to hangout with.and i also like to do fun things like going out to the club and i also on here to meet me some new friends so i can chat with.and i also like to hang with my homegirls and homeboys when they be around.and for the ones that is hating on shonda can lick shonda ass.and for the are not hating on shonda send me a message.and do you know that i like to get my drink on and my smoke on.and what up hi yall doing.

Considering we have so much in common, how could I not want to be friends with her? Do I know that she like to get her drink on and her smoke on? No. Maybe I’m a hater for that. Maybe I should lick shonda a$$. Maybe I’ll send back a message like the one I got from this guy:

Subject: i can guess ur name
Body:    KYLE

then 2 months later...

Subject:    sup kyle
Body:    wat u up 2

First a wrong guess, then a repeat performance. I just don’t have an answer for this. I REALLY didn’t have for the next girl either...

She sent me this:
u wack

So I sent back:
haha thats funny

She replied:
keep it movvin u hella fake

Then I said:
do i kno u? haha how can i keep it movin u dont even exist

Of course she answered:
leave me alone i kno u and u are fake and i dont get what tha hell i see in u stop writin me bye

I honestly don’t even know this girl. I’ve never met her or talked to her in my life, so why is she so hostile? Who knows? I think she must have me confused because this was her headline on her page:

Stop smiling at me, get that look off your face Please dont even front, stop being so fake I know you don't like me, yeah you've made it very clearYou always talkin' 'bout me from what I hear Always put me down when you thought that you could

??? Who knows? Maybe she has seen my funny myspace messages and is now trying to be crazy just to get on here like the girl who sent me this:

(I won’t show her photo, because I’m not really makin fun of her)

nice eyes wanna f*ck!!

thinking that this was myspace message gold, I sent her back:
you cant be serious

She then hit me back with:

im just playin with u...i just read ur blog on ur web site about all those people sending u myspace messages.

Damn, so close, but she actually got me I guess. I really wanted to use that. That wasn’t the only time...

This is from a different girl:

Subject: heyyyyyy
Body:    So are you in Los Angeles or up north?? Whats up?

Honestly, it wasn’t a bad message and the girl didn’t look bad. She wasn’t odd or crazy. I didn’t even think twice about it. Then I got this the next day:

Subject: My Bad
Body:    Long story short, I came accross your website today and found the part about Myspace Girls really funny. Then I remembered that I messaged you something stupid yesterday while I was really bored at work. It doesn't matter at all because I don't know you, but I'm just pretty embarassed that I presented myself as some unintelligent breezy looking for sweet lovin' on Myspace. Anyways, just wanted to say keep on' writing because you're great at it...
-Cindy

To me, the attempted retraction was funnier than anything she could have said, but I guess it was necessary.

I’ll leave this edition with this last bit. See this girl is really nice, and if she reads this, I hope she understands that I just couldn’t leave this last message alone...

Body: lol Hi Rod. My name is Chrissy; I am 27 yrs old from Vancouver Island, Canada. I just finished reading 1 of ur hilarious blogs about funny myspace messages! lol it was REEEALLY funny & entertaining; you really have quite a talent for comedic writing & i just had to message you to tell you how impressive you are lol. & you seem like a REEAALLY gr8 person & i like you & I want to add you as a myspace friend...lol

Thats one of the nicest things anyone has ever said. I mean wow, what a nice compliment. I didn’t respond because I was busy trying to win a D-League championship. It was then that I got like 3 more messages, one of which was this:

WOW! Ur REEEALLY an aWESOME person & ur VERY popular & every 1 LOVES you! lol You should be FAMOUS! lol You seem like a really gr8 guy, ur funny, smart, intelligent, witty, charismatic, well rounded, good head on ur shoulders & all that good stuff lol I'm really impressed with you! Do you have ANY flaws? lol Do you go to church? My Dad's name is Rod; Rodney actually; he has funny nick names Rooney & Roonster lol! You know what's really weird? I've never really met any black ppl b4; i live in sorta small town & there just wasn't any blacks here when i was growing up. So now i'm 27 & never met any blacks or had any black friends. Except for recently i met 2 at church lol they really nice ppl 1 is a young guy name Anthony who just married pretty white wife & now they just had an adorable baby...Anthony plays keybpoard for our church & he is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING! You should see him HE TOTALLY ROCKS OUT On the keyboard! Alot of blacks came to our church last summer for Anthony's wedding..I like their energy! & i shook hands & met 1 really nice older black man who comes to our church sometimes. & that's about all my experience with black ppl I've had b4..i feel sad about that ..lol i hope i'm not giving you MORE material for ur blogs about funny myspace messages! LOL!

Cmon now girl, why did you have to send me this? What’s weirder than the fact that your dad’s nickname is “Roonster”? Oh yea, the fact that you’ve never met any black people. Except for those 2 at church. YOU LOVE THEIR ENERGY. Oh man. I’m glad you are meeting some solid black people, but coddamn this was one of the funniest things I’ve read in my life. You definitely DID give me more material, but don’t take it personally...if you like my blogs, you should see me on a keyboard.

You've Got to be Kidding Me

Rod Benson — 2007-06-02T11:23:51-07:00

Well, on my last night in Vegas, I was definitely over the club scene. I was too small time for the club the night before, and spent $40 just to get in. I made up my mind early on that last day that I would only go to bars that night. Nobody was gonna change my mind. I wanted to do something free, and I wanted to do something adventurous.

I figured I would hit 20 bars in 4 hours. I’d have a beer at every spot, check out the women and see if any were ready like spaghetti, and keep moving after a few minutes. The plan seemed flawless. “Billy” was gonna come with me and Renee was strongly considering joining in with me.

At about 8 P.M. I was ready to make my moves. Renee, “Jimmy”, “Billy”, and a few other people got a bottle of Ketel One and each had a few shots. It was then that I was informed that Jimmy convinced Billy to go with him to the clubs and Renee had decided to do the same. Basically what it meant was that I had to either join them, or make my moves on my own.

I took a couple more shots and alerted the room that I would indeed hit the bars on my own. We all agreed to meet up later, after the dust cleared. At about 8:45 we got into a limo (I still dont know who paid for it), and I told the driver to drop me off at a hotel with good bars, while everyone else went to the Hard Rock for some party that cost $100 for men and $50 for women (good decision not going there).

I got out of the limo and went right to the first bar I saw. I ordered a Miller Lite and began to look out for “stragglers”. Rod Benson’s 2007 Dictionary defines a “straggler” as any woman who has for some reason decided to have a small time night and kick it at a bar without male company. They often include girls who ditched their girl-friends that night. Anyways, no stragglers were found. After about ten minutes at the bar, I left and began walking to the next bar.

I went from bar, to bar, to bar, to bar, having a Miller Lite at every one. I would sometimes get a Grey Goose and Cranberry (Bill Simmons suggests that Red Bull is a more typical athlete drink, but he also suggests that one of us will die as a result, which is why I dont get them). I had reached about 10-12 bars and still had not seen any decent stragglers. At this point I was at Caesers Palace. There was a shuttle that made its way to the Palms every 10 minutes, so I decided to wait for it. It was at this point that I realized that I was beginning to cross that line. Either I was feeling the drinks or I was just feeling the griminess from 3 nights in Vegas.

I arrived at the Palms hotel and went looking for the first bar. As it turns out, the first bar I saw had like 6 bowling lanes inside of it as well. I thought to myself “You’re already here, might as well bowl a game.” It was about 12:30 at this point. Reports were coming in from my friends that Hard Rock line was too long and they weren’t trying to pay that $100 to get in. Good call on my part not partaking in their activities.

I bought a Miller Lite and one game on the lanes. I got to my lane, picked out a 14 LB. ball (dont act like you’re not impressed), and threw a strike right off the bat. The place was small, and I am 6’10” so I got a little attention already, but the strike turned a couple heads. Two girls behind me smiled when they saw the strike. I confidently picked my ball back up for my second throw. Gutter ball, dammit. I turned back to the girls who were now laughing at me. They had reason to, I guess.

I walked back towards the girls, and motioned for them to come bowl with me (it was a little loud for me to yell over the music). They both agreed and walked over. Stragglers, yes! They balls much lighter than mine (thats what she said), and began to bowl a couple of my frames. They were communicating via sign language because it was so loud, but it also meant that I couldn’t understand them. Whatever, I was tipsy anyways, I didn’t really care. I just hate secrets, and I hate when girls use secret non-verbal communication to talk around me.

At about frame number 7, I turned to the girls and said over the music “So, whats up with you guys?” It was a simple enough question. Not too forward at all.. I’m good at this sort of thing. However, they didn’t answer me. I said it a little louder, because it was hell of loud in there. they looked at me dumbfounded. I yelled it this time. “WHATS UP WITH YOU GUYS?!”

They looked at me, then turned back to each other and starting doing more sign language. Coddamn secrets! I wish I knew sign, then I wouldn’t have to yell. Just then, I noticed something.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said aloud. “There’s a coddamn hearing aid in this girls ear.” I yelled out something else, loud as I could. Everyone in the bar turned and looked at me -- except them. Of course, these girls were DEAF! I had literally just spent 45 minutes bowling with these girls and only now had I realized that all that sign language was more than secret girl talk. They were deaf girls. Sweet, actually, awesome choice I made right there. They then big timed me. “We have to go,” they said. I make that sound to good. They definitely used “deaf talk” where it sounds like they were losing a game of chubby bunny. To be honest, they spoke better than I would expect for being def. But still, they big timed me and left.

I bowled my final couple frames and left. The rest of the night was irrelevant. Yea, I gave my card to a couple hostesses and whatnot, but I couldn’t get the deaf girls out of my mind. How could I have not known? How could they big time ME? I mean how many pro ballers invite them to bowl a game? I left Las Vegas the next morning feeling very insignificant. I guess I’m a big fish in certain small ponds, but in Vegas, I’m a small fish in a big pond. So small, in fact, that even the deaf girls are bigger. I guess that’s how it goes.

I'm Not Big Time (Vegas Part 1)

Rod Benson — 2007-06-02T11:22:06-07:00

Las Vegas, it’s just one of those places. It just happens to be the place that I spent memorial weekend. As you probably already already know, I’m and energetic guy and Las Vegas brings a lot of energy itself, so when combined, the effects can be explosive. At least I felt that I was in store for an explosive weekend when I stepped off the plane. I now feel like I wrong. I’m just not big time enough to really have the kind of time I would like to have when I become official. Why do I feel this way? Because of nights like these....

The names have been changed to protect the guilty...

The second night I was there, my boy “Jimmy” suggested that we go to club PURE. Supposedly it was going to be a big time event because it was Rampage Jackson’s after party (I found out later that he won his fight, helping build the hype for the night). Jimmy, “Billy”, and I got to the club at 9:30 P.M. and the line was already like 1,000 people long. I was not trying to wait that long to get into this place.

I walked up to the front of the line and asked the guy how long it would be before we got in. He let me know that it would take about 2-2.5 hours to get to the front, and that it would cost $40 when we got there (our bootleg free passes meant nothin). As I was walking back to our group, a guy near the front yells out “Haha! You tried that basketball B.S. to try to get V.I.P. and that sh*t didn’t work!”

I turned around and looked at this guy. He was with a crew of about 6 guys who all seemed to share his sentiments, because they were all laughing at me. The amount of disrespect was unbelievable. I mean basically those were fightin words. I turned and looked back at my crew. Jimmy and Billy were no fighters, and let’s face it, neither am I, really. So I decided to let them have their fun.

I returned to our spot in line. Jimmy said that he would wait in line while Billy and I went to the liquor store because Billy and I are not those guys who can afford to pay $13 per drink.

We got our fill at the liquor store and met back up with Jimmy. We finally got in at 11 (an hour ahead of projections), and it was already absolutely packed. It was actually pretty uncomfortable. I kept trying to get space, but there was none to be had. There was plenty of space, however, in the VIP section. It was elevated by about 4 feet so that all the beautiful celebrities could look down on us.

Wilmer Valderamma took the mic and started saying a ton of things that I couldn’t understand. Then he started calling out the names of all the celebs in attendance: Adam Sandler, Kim Kardashian, Mandy Moore, Rampage Jackson, etc. Rod Benson stood below and watched all these people toast their drinks and talk their talk, while he was stuck down with the common folk, overly crowed, being asked how tall he was every 8 seconds.

I got asked if I played basketball so many times that I began saying that I didn’t, so that I wouldn’t have to explain for what team, then explain what the D-League is, then see the disappointment on their faces. One guy says to me “How tall are you? I know you play basketball!” I respond with “No, I don’t. Sorry.” Then he has the nerve to say “Wow, that’s just a waste of height. That sucks.” I, being far too annoyed at this point to give a damn, say “That’s interesting. There are kids dying of leukemia everyday, and you’re wasting this healthy body by talking too much. That sucks.” I walked away after that.

It was then that I wanted to leave. I already knew everyone was thinking “Wow, this guy is so tall, he must be in the N.B.A.! But why isn’t he up there with them? He must not be any good at all, actually.” I asked Billy if he wanted to leave, he said he did, because it was too crowded for him too. Jimmy had already left with a young lady, so we didnt have to worry about him.

Billy and I arrived at the same liquor store for the second time that night. Since I decided that we were pretty much losers at this point, Billy decided to buy a whole fifth. “No way are we coming back here for a third time! No way bro,” he said to me,”I’m gettin the fifth this time.”

We sat back in an alley and starting drinking and talking about how lame we were. The beautiful celebrities were still at the hottest club in Vegas, while we were in the loading dock area of Bally’s by ourselves. We decided that, even though we were lame, and losers, that we could still salvage the night, even though it was already 1:20 A.M. That’s when Billy went to work on the bottle. His tolerance is nowhere near mine, but he didn’t seem to care. These photos represent what followed (the exact reason why I changed his name):

Halfway thru the bottle...

Starting to feel himself a little too much....

Falling down, Del Taco Lemonade goes everywhere

Why get up? Just go ahead and make a phone call while laying in the middle of the sidewalk...

Well as you can see, he was getting progressively worse. When we got back to the hotel (4 A.M.), he was still in high spirits. Some of our other friends were already there waiting for us at the bar. We met some girls and began to talk.

As you can see, I’m still fine, but Billy is DRUNK. Well, we sat down with these girls. Billy was talking to the one on the right (his left). While in the middle of a sentence, he puts his head down and starts throwing up between his legs. The girl says “Wow, how rude.” But Billy does not respond. He literally just sits there with his head down, motionless.

I tell my friend Renee not the go to him just yet, so that we dont cause a scene. Nobody has seen him yet, so I let him sit there for a few more seconds, then Renee and I carry him to the elevator. He drags his feet the whole time. When we get him to our floor, he literally refuses to go any further and makes his body heavy to stop us from carrying him.

I actually had to grab him by one arm and drag him 40 yards through the luxor hotel because he wouldnt move his body. It was funny because he was trying to stop me, but he couldnt. He just kept saying “Rod, wait wait wait. Stop, wait. Hold up hold up.” Then I’d say “What the hell do you wanna stop for?” Then he’d reply “I dont know, just stop.”

It took me almost 2 hours to drag him from the bar to his bed. When he got into bed he just kept saying “No0o0o0o! No0o0o00o! No0o0o0o0o!” Who knows why? All I know is that Billy made his mark that night. Actually he literally left throw up marks in about 7 different spots in the hotel. Had we been big time, this wouldnt have happened. We would sipped casually with beautiful celebrities. I guess we’ll just have to wait until I get that contract

Escape From Philly!

Rod Benson — 2007-05-24T11:18:32-07:00

Last week, I took a trip to Lancaster, PA, to visit a friend of mine. I must say that every single day I was there, I was involved in a situation I had never been a part of before. Like things that people may never have happen to them in their lives. I’ll just get right to them...

One day I was at the mall, with a couple friends and a little girl (my friends niece). As you can see, I had her up on my on my shoulders:

Well, after about 10 minutes of her being on my shoulders, I felt an odd feeling that I had never felt before. It felt like someone tried to spit on my neck, but no spit came out. It was an odd air burst. Then there was another, and another. I thought I had it figured out, but I wasnt quite sure yet.

All of a sudden, the little girl says “I want to get down.” I say, “Yea, it’s about that time.” She then runs over to her mother and says “I have to tell you a secret. I farted.”

I standing there like “This is ricodamdiculous. I’ve just been crop dusted.” I was directly farted on, right to the neck, three times. I smell like a public bathroom, so I stay away from my other friends, who are all laughing at me. Awesome.

Another day, there was a big BBQ/party that basically lasted from 6pm until 4am. While in the midst of the party I met this woman who asked to take a picture with me because I was so tall (as usual). So I took it and added my own little twist:

After the picture, the woman seemed to always be near me for the rest of the night. She kept calling me pretty eyes and whatnot. Not necessarily unusual (I am rather striking), but still a bit odd considering that I was not really acknowledging her.

One of my friends and I pass out in the basement of the house at the end of the night. He is on one side of the room near the TV, Im on another side, near the stairs.

I wake up in the morning a little earlier than I want to because I hear a couple of voices. I realize that its the same woman and her girlfriend, sitting on the couch in the basement. They are straight up watching us sleep. I pretend to still be asleep, so I can hear what they are saying.

“Oh yea baby, roll over for me”, I hear her say. I’m laying there thinking “this is wrong. So0o wrong.”

I fall asleep again. I wake up two hours later and they are still there, watching us. I hear her say “that’s beautiful over there, and that’s handsome right there. Beautiful and Handsome.” I pop right up this time. My boy has started to wake up too. “Hey handsome,” she says to me, “and you too beautiful,” she says to Darryl.

I got up and walked out of the room. That was it for her.

On the last day, I had to make moves to go home. I had to take the train from Lancaster to Philadelphia because I was flying out of Philly. As I arrived at the Philly Amtrak, I had to take the SEPTA train to the Airport. SO, I dragged my bad up to the counter for the SEPTA train tickets, and I asked the guy how much these tickets cost. He said they cost $5.50. I realized that I only had $2.13 is cash and change on me, so I asked him where an ATM was (I looked stupid because it was right behind me). I walked up the the ATM to withdraw $20. DENIED. What? How could that be? Direct Deposit should have gone through the day before. Well, just how much money was in there then? $0.68. 68 cents, my man, 68 cents.

I’m in downtown Philly. I’ve got $2.13 in cash and $0.68 on my card and a flight back to San Diego that takes off in 2 hours from an airport that is gonna cost $5.50 to get to. How the hell am I gonna escape from Pennsylvania?

I check my wallet once again. There’s a check for $25 dollars that my friend had given me 5 months ago. It’s from Bank of America. I decide that if I’m gonna make it out of here, I will need to get to Bank of America and cash this check. The thing is, I already know that Bank of America is lame and that they don’t cash checks without 2 valid forms of I.D. I’ve got my license (valid) and my expired passport (NOT valid). So, if for some reason I could get to a BofA soon, there’s only a 20% chance I could trick the teller into thinking that my passport is still valid.

“Time to roll the dice,” I thought to myself as I walked out to the taxi area. I tried to hail like 3 taxis before one stopped for me. It was a black guy driving. As I got in, he mentioned that nobody but him would have stopped. It then hit me that, if this check thing didnt work out, not only would I be stuck in Penn, but that I wouldnt be able to pay the only taxi driver who would pick up a black guy, so he might kill me. I dunno what I’m thinking but I know that on TV, the east coast is a crazy place where things like that could happen.

“Do you know where Bank of America is?,” I asked as we got moving.
“Nope, let me try to find out,” he replied.

I was watching the meter carefully. I knew that I would need to pay for a ride to and from this place, and still have $5.50 left over for the damn SEPTA train. I was calling 411 to try to find a close one, but everything was automated. We drove around for a few minutes before I could get one out of this automated thing. BofA was only a few blocks away.

We parked at BofA and the meter was at $9...running. I went inside. As I walked in, there were 3 tellers open. To the far left (closest to me at the time) was a young, attractive black woman. “Nope!”, I thought to myself. No way was I gonna embarrass myself in front of her with my $25 dollar check. Furthest to the right was an older white lady, she seemed in charge. I wasn’t gonna mess with her either. I needed this check to go through, she seemed like she would have no compassion for the lack of valid I.D.’s. Right in the middle, was a 30-35 yr old black woman. I had to go to her by default, but this was no guarantee.

I handed her my check and let her know that I needed it cashed. She asked for my I.D. I gave it to her. “Just one?”, I thought to myself. A good sign. She starts doing a lot of typing into her computer. Too much typing? It was hard to tell, but this check was only for $25. What the hell would take so long. She then walks it over to the old white woman in charge. DAMMIT. No way, exactly what I didnt want. They confer and head behind closed doors. You would think that I was taking out $25,000, not $25. I know that the meter outside is still running. How high is it by now? So many questions, not enough answers.

She comes back and types some more. Finally she asks to me to endorse the check. Yes! As Borat would say: “Great Success! Sexy time explosion!” She handed me my $25 and I was off.

The taxi meter was only at $12.40. Perfect. “Where’s the nearest SEPTA station, my man?”, I asked. “Hold on.”, he replied.

I paid him $15 ( it was like $13.20) when I got out of the cab. Sweet. I had $12.13 now. I got a bomb ass Philly Cheesesteak and still had money to spare for the SEPTA.

Well, as a result of the whole fiasco, I got to the airport about 45 minutes before takeoff. That is normally not a problem, but on Southwest Airlines, seating is based on who gets there first. I was forced to get a “C” boarding card, meaning that I would definitely have a seat in between two 300 lb. wildebeasts. This was going to be a 5 and a half hour flight, I had to get “my seat”. “My seat” is on every southwest flight. It has no seat in front of it and it’s the exit row. This seat is the only seat I can sit in on the whole plane and be comfortable at all. The problem is that these random 4 foot 10 women will take that seat if they beat me to it. I will literally stare them down the whole time as I walk past them. I give a look that says “You have got to be kidding me, you joke.”

I digress. So, I asked the customer service rep for a pre-board slip so that I could get on before everyone else. Southwest has enacted policy recently that says that you cant sit in my seat if you pre-board. I knew I couldn’t get my seat with the pre-board seat, but maybe I could get bulkhead and have some space.

When I got on the plane, some dumbass woman had already “reserved” the entire bulkhead section. Feeling dejected, I walked down and sat in the seat directly behind “my seat”. The flight attendant asked me if I was a pre-board guy. I said that I was, hoping that she would have compassion and put me into my seat anyways. No dice. She walked to the back, and another attendant walked back towards me. This attendant noticed how tall I was. She asked if I played in the NBA. This is when I realized that there was a glimpse of possibility. I mean, coddamn, this had been a long ass day already, I needed my seat.

“Yes, I was on an NBA team.”, I said confidently. She then asked me if I would autograph something for her kids. I replied, “I will, if you can get me that seat.”

She looked at me and said “O.K. But, were you a pre-board?” I said that I was. She then made a big time play and told me to sit there anyways. She then told the other attendant that I had made a mistake and that I misunderstood the whole pre-board thing.

The plane was full by this time, and she came back with some things for me to autograph. She asked me “What team did you play for?” I said “The Sacramento Kings.” I figured that if she googled my name it would have some mention of the kings from last years summer league. I was supposed to go, but before we got on the bus I was told that I wasnt needed. Not exactly a lie, but not what she was looking for. Either way, she would find out sometime. I have big time plans for this summer anyways. By this time next year I think I will be one of those guys. I signed the stuff with “Go Kings!!!” on it and gave it back to her. Yes. Boom. Got my seat.

“I couldnt help but overhear...you’re in the NBA?”, someone behind me asks.

“Oh snap”, I starting thinking, “this could be bad.” Within minutes, everyone on the coddamn plane was all hyped up about me being in the NBA. They were all asking me questions about the league: “What’s it like playing with Ron Artest? What do you think about Kobe? How’s Madison Square Garden?” I had to come up with answers to all these questions on the fly even though there were all false. Basically, at the end of the flight, all these people thought that they had met their first NBA athlete, when in reality they didn’t. A hopeful D-Leaguer with aspirations much higher than his current position is that they got -- a random guy who wanted a good seat. Regardless, I finally escaped from Pennsylvania...comfortably.

You Don't Have the Balls!

Rod Benson — 2007-05-07T11:17:03-07:00

While in L.A., I got to spend time with my boy Alex. Alex went to UCLA where he was in AEPi fraternity. Basically, because of him and Noose (also an AEPi), I spent a ton of time at AEPi over the years. I became very much a part of the Jewish frat life. Anyways, Alex invited me to their “Jungle Party” on thursday night. I didn’t think he would be so hyped up for it considering we have been out of college for about a year. Well for whatever reason he was real hyped so we decided to go.

At about 9pm that night, we met up with his other Frat brothers for a little pre-party in Westwood. While there, talk of my blog sprung up somehow. All of a sudden everyone is saying how they need to make the night a “blog worthy” night. I’m sitting there in disbelief. They actually want to do something so ridiculous that it would end up as fodder for tmrb.com? Who was I to stop them? I sat there and watched as they all put their hands in (like the way teammates do in sports before breaking a huddle) and say “Get in Rod’s blog on three. 1. 2. 3. Get in Rod’s blog!” Thats when the drinking picked up. Everyone was even more hyped up for the night now that there was a common interest.

When we left the pre-party spot, a couple of guys went straight to the party, while Alex and I made a pit stop at his girlfriends house. When we got there, Alex and Liz started talking about whatever while I prepared a couple more drinks for Alex and myself. I came back into the room and they were talking about something that caught my attention.
Liz was mentioning the fact that, because she is an actress, she has kissed other men since they started dating. She then says that she always says that Alex can kiss another girl to make things even, but that Alex never does it. I interject.

“Liz,” I begin, “you mean to tell me that you would really let Alex kiss another woman?” In my mind this is all just a ploy to test his loyalty to her, but she answers me with “of course I would. I have kissed other guys so it is not a big deal.” It is then that I take it to the next level. “So,” I say laughingly, “if he was to kiss another girl tonight, you mean to tell me that you would be O.K. with it?” She quickly replies with “Yes. Of course. In fact if he kisses another girl tonight I’ll buy him dinner tomorrow.”

I look over at Alex who hasnt said much in a while. I then turn and look at Liz again. “I hope you realize that I will really make him do this. I won’t let him think his way out of this. I will get him drunk and I can get him to do anything when he’s drunk.” She, ever so confidently says to Alex: “You dont have the balls. You’re too much of a p*ssy.” Alex begins to speak up but I dont remember what he says. I am caught up in this new challenge. She has just made the night blog worthy. It is everything Alex could have hoped for. I give her one more chance to end this. I say “Look, I know what you’re doing here. I get it. Testing his loyalty doesnt take all of this. When I leave here it’s on like donkey kong.” She says “We have been going out for 2 and a half years, if he was gonna cheat he would have done it a long time ago. I dont need to test his loyalty. Just make sure that she is not fat or ugly, cause that would be too easy.”

As Alex and I headed towards the party, we were giddy about the party and the possibility of getting him hooked up. It was like he was given his mojo back for a one night trial. As soon as we walked in, we went right upstairs and I got to work. First, I enlisted as many frat guys as I could. I told them that they had one mission and one mission only: to get Alex kissed before the night was over. Once I had an army of helpers, I began to work my magic...

“So I have this friend. His girlfriend actually, seriously bet him that he wouldnt kiss another girl tonight. I was wondering if you would help us out?”

“See my boy over there? Yea, thats him. Im looking for a nice young lady who might kiss him tonight. Just a kiss?”

“Ok so, Im not saying youre that type of girl or anything, but could you see yourself kissing a guy tonight?”

“I will give you $20 straight up if you do me a favor. All I need you to do is kiss my boy over there for just a second. Cmon $20!? Better take that money honey!”

“My friend is a broadway actor. He’s in the new production of ‘The Little Mermaid’. We are looking for an Ariel type girl for the whole ‘kiss the girl’ scene. Do you think you can help us out?”

“Heres the deal. Can you, or someone you know please kiss my friend. We NEED to get this done.”

“$20 bucks to kiss him on the lips. Please. 25?”

I must have tried every single line I could think of. Every single angle I could come from, I did. There was one time where I was like “I have this frien..” the girl cut me off with “No.” One girl said “What are you some kind of pimp? Offering money? Not cool.” Another actually listened to my whole rap, but Alex stopped me with “Liz said the girl can’t be ugly.” Dammit, I guess I got desperate. As 1:30am rolled around, I realized that this was a lost cause. I also realized that for Liz, this wasnt about see if Alex would kiss another girl, it was about whether or not Alex could kiss another girl. Wow. When it hit me I thought she was kind of mean, but hey Alex has been faithful for 2 and a half years, his mojo is all out of whack. What could you really expect from him in a one night situation. The game was unfair.

Oh snap! I had been so busy trying to hook him up, that I didnt talk to one girl my coddamn self! No way did I just let that happen. I grabbed Alex and said “Yea, its getting late. i dont think we can do this. Lets, umm, switch the game and see if we can hook ME up.” He obliged. The only problem with this was that the party was damn near over and every girl there had already heard me pitch for my friend. Terrible terrible situation. It was all over.

The next day, Liz made it clear that I was a failure for not being able to hook Alex up. Then she made him buy her dinner at this nice Italian restaurant and pay for her Spider - Man 3 ticket. She may have won this round, but I swear, one day I will redeem my hookup abilities and get Alex a girl so hot that he will reconsider his lover for her. Lets bet dinner on it.

The Many Faces of Rod Benson

Rod Benson — 2007-05-07T11:15:42-07:00

I have one rule when out on the town. The only rule I have is that if someone asks to take a picture with me, I have to get one with MY camera too. You may be surprised how many people want to take a photo with me. I dont think its for any special reason other than the fact that people are overjoyed by my tallness. “Hey, look he’s 7 inches taller than my uncle who I thought was tall!”

Anyways what basically ends up happening is I end up with a ton of ridiculous photos because I tend to make a certain face in the photo so that I remember my feelings at the time. I wake up the next day and check my camera and realize how ridiculous some of these situations really were. Here are a few my recent faces and the best analysis of why I made that face at that time:

See, this is my “I dont know this guy but he must be big time to show up at an L.A. club with a French Model who is younger than me” face. It kind of says how surprised I am, but also says that I can’t hate. This guy would actually break my camera right after taking this photo. I was lucky to fix it, because he made it clear he wasnt gonna pay for another one.

This is my “Hey, I’m not a player, I just crush a lot” face. Sometimes beautiful women just want to be in my presence. Who am I to tell them they cant be? I guess I’m just one fo those guys hahaha.

This is my “I hope you see what I’m seeing” face. I’m walking down 6th street in Austin and what do I see? I see a guy wearing a coddamn thong like its the thing to do. This was a photo that needed to be taken. Still, after everything this guy brings to the table photo wise, I still laugh at the girl more. For some reason her face never gets old.

Wow. I don’t know if I can even title this face. Its very unique because you can see the pain and anger in my eyes. I guess I should call it the “Maybe some pictures should remain un-snapped” face. I feel bad because she looks so happy and I look like she is a walking fart that I am trying not to smell. Hahaha I guess thats how it goes.

This would be the “C’mon guy, seriously?” face. Some people are just way too drunk and will not recognize when I really dont want to take a photo. I’m pretty sure I did everything in my power to get out of it, but he just wouldn’t take no for an answer.

This is my “No, you didnt just do that. Wow.” face. See, you agree to take a pic with someone, then they go and throw up a gang sign. No, that is not the shocker because his index and middle fingers are way too far apart for nearly any woman. Its obvious that he thought it was cool throw up the signs because I probably would too. Wrong.

We call this the “Why the hell are we taking Patron shots at the END of the night?” face. See when you start out with wine at 5pm and drink til midnight, then take 2 Patrons back to back to cap it off, that face seems to pop up every now and then. Girls can get you to do anything I guess.

This is the “I think the championship celebration has gone a bit too long” face. Yea, basically I was done.

Lastly, this is the “You know what? Im just gonna buy in.” face. Yea, after making fun of him in the previous shot, I decided to just throw up a dub. It made the whole thing fun for everyone. Boom.

If You Aint First You're Last

Rod Benson — 2007-05-02T11:12:00-07:00

Jerome Beasely Strikes Back

Rod Benson — 2007-04-17T11:09:49-07:00

If you remember before, Jerome Beasely claimed that he can do everything. If it can be done, he can do it. Well I got flooded with suggestions of things you thought he couldn’t do. You were all wrong. He can do everything you asked of him. Yea, that’s right. Everything. I know some of you are like “No way, mine was IMPOSSIBLE.” Alas, he can do them all. The only thing he says he can’t do is be a woman, so those of you who suggested pregnancy win by default I guess. Everyone else? You lose. He can do them all...well, so he says. I picked out some of my favorites that were sent to me so you can be the judge. Is JB all talk or can he really do everything? Let’s see...

JB can you...
Become an 8th Degree blackbelt?
   Easy, yes, I’m already 1st degree
Drink a gallon of milk in a half hour?
   Yes, as long as I can throw up
Climb a brick wall?
   How high is the wall?
Eat a stick of butter in a minute?
   Yes, with my drink of choice
Juggle 5 basketballs?
   Yes, with an hour of practice
Complete every dunk that ever won an NBA Dunk contest?
   Yes, what height rim?
Swallow a sword?
   What size sword?
Lie on a Lie detector and pass?
   Of course I can, it checks heart rate and pulse, thats easy
Fill out a March Madness bracket exactly right?
   Yes, with the assistance of a psychic.
Win American Idol?
   Yes, the people would love me
Beat Rod Benson at Madden? (yea right)
   Yes, with the same amount of practice I would destroy him
Kiss your elbow?
   Yes, I can lick it and I consdier that kissing
Keep your eyes open while sneezing?
   Depends on how hard the sneeze is
Whistle within 10 seconds of sucking on a lemon?
   Build up you saliva glands and it’s easy
Eat 15 saltine crackers in a minute?
   With or without a drink?
Dunk on a 12 foot rim?
   Thats easy. I’m 6’11” with a 36 inch vert. What do you think?
Get Halle Berry’s number?
   Thats easy. You just gotta catch her at the right time. At a cafe by herself it’s guaranteed. In front of all the cameras and bright lights, it would be harder, but not impossible. If shes married then no, I dont do that.

Turn a gay man straight?
   Yes. Let him watch me and the baddest girl f*#k, he would see how much fun it is. After that he would want to take part and hit it too.

Do a handstand for 2 minutes and not lean against a wall to get yourself up or stay up?
   That’s a good question because you are specific, however, with 3 days practice, guaranteed.

Have someone touch the back of your throat and not gag?
   If a sexy woman asked me to then yes. Rod, you mean to tell me that if Jennifer Lopez said ‘Rod if you don’t gag I’ll f*%k the sh*t out of you’ you would still gag?

Could you cook a Hot Pocket so hot that not even YOU could eat it? (My personal favorite)
   Yes, all I need is ice water.

Well that’s about it. Looks like all of you failed at finding something JB can’t do. I suggest you try harder.

We Got It Done - No Homo

Rod Benson — 2007-04-15T11:07:58-07:00

You’ve seen it a hundred times. There is a team who wins a championship. They head back to the locker room jubilant as the camera crews follow them in. The lockers are already covered with plastic and the hats and t-shirts are already coming out the their boxes. All of a sudden, someone pops open a bottle of champagne and the madness begins. That’s what it’s all about. Champions.

Well, as the new D-League regular season champions, we had a very similar celebration. We walked back up to the second floor of the Austin convention center. We made our way into the locker room and said a few “no-homo” jokes. There was no plastic to cover the lockers, and there were no t-shirts and hats. There was no champagne either. There were 13 guys -- 10 players, 2 coaches, 1 trainer -- and a bottle of cheap vodka. “Pour me a shot into this Gatorade bottle.” Thus the celebration began. Each of us toasted our Gatorade “Rain” - Vodka mix. The strain of a long season showed on pretty much everyones faces. As for me, it was kind of funny, yet fitting. This was the exact place I had started the season back in November: in Austin, as a Toro, under the late Dennis Johnson, playing the small forward, starting out the season 0-12, not knowing a thing about pro basketball. Now I’ve got my drink, toasting the best record in the League for the Wizards, playing the post, living in North Dakota. Funny how that works. There was actually a pretty tight celebration when we got back to Bismarck. Some of our greatest fans were waiting for us at the airport which was awesome. That is why when we win the whole thing I will feel much more rewarded, because the fans will be there to take it in with us.

While we were still in Austin, we hit the town and partied like the champions we are. It was cool to be back partying in Austin where all the crazy people live. Only there could you see a guy like this and not think it was odd:

Yea he definitely is wearing a thong right there in case you were suspicious. Hey, that’s just Austin for you. “Keep Austin Weird” is what they say. Still not Berkeley weird, but weird none the less. Crazy as it may be, it’s still one of the best places to party because you can dance on top of any bar in town...

and meet random people all night long...

See, that’s my “I don’t know you, but you asked to take a picture, so I did” face.

What was a bit ridiculous about the whole 3 day affair in Austin was that I had to get drug tested again. I was drug tested on the first day of the season and the last day, and I must say that you never really get used to having another grown man watch you pull down you pants and piss in front of him into a cup. I mean, I guess this is how it has to be because of people who try to fake the tests. I honestly had no idea what a “Wizzonator” was until I had an NBDL drug test. A “Wizzonator” is a fake penis that I guess you somehow fill with someone elses piss and it does the pissing for you during the test. I can only imagine how ridiculous Ontario Smith felt being caught using a coddamn Wizzonator. He must have used the white one instead of the black model. Either way, because of past cheaters, now the guy who does the testing has to watch you pull down your pants while you sum up the energy to piss for him. I swear I had to go real bad before I went in there, but the pressure got to me. I mean, it’s not just the pressure to go, but I mean, another man is about to stare at your penis for hella long... it’s not very comfortable. What was worse for me was, there was another guy in there who was talking with the tester right before I had to go. He says to his buddy: “Last week I had to test Amare Stoudemire and Tim Duncan, now Im here with these guys.” Hmm, really? Great. Now I have to measure up to the big boys. I have gotten good reviews in the past..I mean I am Rod Benson and everything...you know... TOO MUCH... but this is about a lot more now, now Im going one on one with big Timmy. I feel like the guy is staring right through me. He is just sizing me up thinking to himself: “Yea, this guy isn’t NBA Calibre...I wouldn’t give him a call-up based off this,” or he’s saying “Wow, get this guy a 10 day right now.” Either way, It’s bad. I mean he probably isn’t thinking that, but the fact that he could be thinking that is really bothering me. You don’t just name drop the last two guys you saw naked then close me into the coddamn bathroom stall. Now I realize that I’ve been there, with my pants down, for about 4 minutes while he keeps flushing the toilet thinking it will make me go faster when the truth is I’m not even focused on the task at hand. It took basically everything I had to just focus and get out of there.

See, that whole story needs one big “No Homo” at the end of it. Why? Because I don’t even feel comfortable thinking sentences that may be “homo” if said out loud anymore. It has definitely gotten worse since my last post about it. My teammate Darius has had just about enough of this “No Homo” madness. I think he’s not the only one. The fact is, it’s just too deep -- no homo. I got a ton of emails about some crazy no homo things you guys have going on. There were some creative ways to try to break the cycle too, but I must say that those methods don’t fly here. Someone suggested to me to just “say something so blatantly homo that everyone will know that you’re not playing that game.” Well I would have tried that but my boy Jerome Beasely beat me to it. I don’t know what he originally said, but some guys on the team called him out “Hey, you better say ‘no homo’!” Jerome says, “I don’t play that no homo garbage. I have kids, everybody knows where I stand. I’ll say whatever I want.” Someone tries to bait him: “No, you won’t just say anything. I bet you won’t.” Before he can even finish the word “won’t”, Jerome says, aloud for everyone to hear, “D*ck is nice.” My eyes light up. No way did he just say that. This “No Homo” thing is way too big right now (no homo) to say a statement like that. Everyone in the room erupts. People are literally running in and out (no homo) of the locker room looking for someone to tell. I’m just in shock, I can’t move. It was the same shock I felt when Boise State ran the Statue of Liberty play to win the game. It’s like how do I react to this? On one hand, I do find it extremely funny, but on the other, this has to stop somewhere...why not here? Well my laughter took over eventually, like everyone else. It’s just a shame because I don’t know if it will ever really stop. “Q, show me what you got. Make it hard.” Yea, somebody said that yesterday and I texted it to the whole team. The context? Bowling. Does it matter? No. No homo came 3 seconds to late. I’ve been told that you can’t use the following words:

big
small
in, out
up, down
play
it
hard
soft
ball(s)
delicious
enormous

That is the current list of words that are not approved. It’s absurd. I want out so bad, but I can’t escape. Today, I tried the JB method. Someone said “Hey that was really weak.” I responded with “Well, I didn’t want it to be HARD!” A couple guys stared at me. “Are you waiting for me to say no homo? Well it aint comin! I just pulled out.... (4 second pause) of the no homo game.” Right there were 4 infractions. 1. it. 2. HARD. 3. comin! 4. pulled out. I must say that this seemed to work. Not that they didn’t think I broke the rules, but that it was just too much to handle. Too much to make fun of me for in a short time. That lasted until I got in the Van and said “I like this place better” as I sat down. How is that even against the rules? Beats me (no homo). I hope when season is over, that I can go back to just talking....who knows...

D-League-ing It

Rod Benson — 2007-04-02T11:05:18-07:00

I haven’t written a thing in 3 weeks. Why? Well I’ll say it has 30% to do with the fact that I play Madden during my usual blog time, but also because I was in the middle of a very productive month on the court. Since I’ve sucked the last few games, I guess I can get back to my old bloggin’ ways.

It’s been a long few weeks but there havent been a lot of developments on and off the court. This month saw such events as my 27 point 14 rebound game, but also such events as my 2 point 3 rebound game where I was ejected with two techs. Yea, me, Rod Benson ejected with two techs. People who know me know that it takes quite a lot to get me mad. Many people dont even know what an angry, frustrated, kick-me-out-of-the-game-before-I-lose-my-mind Rod Benson looks like...here’s an example:

Yep, definitely got a Tech here. It would be easy to blame the refs, but it’s not really their fault, I get frustrated when I play badly. It’s even worse when I’ve been playing so well all month. Although I must say that one game I got hammered in the back and that set me off, and I apologized to the ref who I went off on later, only to have another ref talk to me on a plane flight and tell me that I just tripped over someones foot. C’mon now? Word? I’m just that clumsy that I throw myself over other peoples feet? Gotta be kiddin me. I actually heard one player on the other team say about that ref: “I just want to be him up!” All that aside, it’s almost playoff time, so all the games will be crazy.

Off the court has been a little more interesting. Well, for starters, there has been this thing that has taken over our team socially. It’s called “No Homo”. No homo basically means “I’m not gay”. Now, we are by no means homophobic, but I swear if you say anything remotely gay, you better say “no homo” afterwards or somebody will call you on it. What I used to do, back home in California, was say “That’s what she said” after such comments. Not anymore. My first week here I was hearing people toss out this “No Homo” thing left and right. Now it has gotten so bad that you can’t say anything without hearing “no homo.” Basically if you talk about anything without making it clear what that thing is, you’re probably in a world of hurt. Let’s say your legs hurt so bad you can hardly walk. Don’t you dare say “Dang, I’m hurtin so bad I can hardly walk.” Ok for example, one of my teammates was putting on his deoderant -- couldn’t be a less “homo” thing, right -- and I guess he had applied quite a bit of it already. Well someone asks him “Why do you put so much on?” He replies, “I don’t know, I just keep rubbing it til the white shows up.” Oh my Lord did he get an ear full for not saying “no homo” after. It’s gotten so bad that we can be in the huddle now. Coach will say “Why can’t we get any balls inside?” I swear guys will look at each other like “He better say no homo.” It’s crazy because we play a sport. A sport that involves balls, no less. You can’t say anything sports related at all. “Dang I only got 2 balls tonight.” Nope, can’t say that. So now we are wrapped up in this “no homo” mess and we can’t get out. I, personally, and pushing for a return to “That’s what she said.” That way we can all enjoy our gross sports statements.

We did have one guy who never bought into the “no homo” nonsense. We picked up a 6’11” Brazilian kid named Morro. Morro speaks almost zero english. He has since been released and signed by the Tulsa 66ers, but it was real interesting while he was here. All he knows is cuss words. To me this is hilarious because it makes his points a lot more emphasized that they need to be. For example, he hardly got any playing time because the communication barrier was too strong. As a result he was always angry about his playing situation. We were roomates in the hotel when we went to Austin. Out of the blue he says to me: “My agent is motherf*#ker. Coach is motherf*#ker.” I start to laugh and I ask him why. He says “No money, no play? Both motherf*#ker.” HAHA. I speak real broken, simple english to him and I say “It no that bad. Be good. Patient Morro.” Morro then grabs my laptop and goes to brazilbasket.com. I had never heard of brazilbasket but I can only assume it’s run by the same people as eurobasket, the largest international basketball website. The writing is in all portugese so I can’t understand any of it. He points to the very front page. “MORRO: 0, 0, 0, 0... blah blah blah portugese nonsense.” I ask him what that means in the best way I can. He says “Morro no play. Brazilbasket say Morro no play, Morro no good.” I say “Noooooo. No say that.” He replies “Yes! Nene? NBA. Vinicius? NBA. Barboza? NBA. Morro? The laugh at Morro!” I couldn’t help but laugh too. I mean that was hella funny. In the end, he switched teams and it worked out just fine for the guy.

Taking Morro’s place on our roster is a guy by the name of Jerome Beasely. Jerome used to play for the Wizards, right before I got here. I specifically remember him posterizing Brad Buckman while I was still in Austin. Well he’s back. I had no idea this guy was such a character. He might even be more of a character than me. The thing about Jerome is that he is all about wordplay. Like today he says “You’re tired because you just need to be home, in your sanctuary.” He takes pleasure from throwing out words like sanctuary. Jerome also thinks he can do everything. Like Renaldo is watching a Jet Li movie. There are obviously many Jet Li moves that get OOhh’s and AAaah’s from a normal audience. Jerome? He says “Those are basic moves really. He isn’t doing anything really advanced. Although later in the movie he will do some more uncommon moves that I will be able to complete soon.” Huh? What? Did you just call Jet Li’s upside down Chinese flying movie bicycle kick a common move? I could only imagine his 6’10” 270 lb. self trying to do a round house kick against Jet Li. But Jerome says he is a first degree blackbelt and that one day he will reach the 8th degree. It was when he said that that people started to look at him crazy. Actually, I guess it was just me, because everyone else says “That’s just J.B.” Well I didn’t know all that. Someone said to him “You are just a man of many talents, huh?” He replied “Yea, well actually there are only two or three things I can’t do.” I said “Hold up, hold up. You mean like two or three out of all the things in the world that can be done? Like everything, only 2 or 3 can’t be completed by J.B.?” “That’s exactly right, I can do about everything in the world except 2-3 things,” he replies. This really bothers me for some reason. Not in an angry way, but like a O.K. he can’t be serious kind of way. So I sit back and make a list of things I KNOW he can’t do. I text it to him:

Things u probly cant do

1. Tight rope walk
2. Hit a Barry Zito curve
3. Surf a wave
4. Recite Pi to 50 places
5. Define Hypotenuse
6. Compete in the worlds strongest man
7. Start a fire in the woods w/o matches or lighter

I tried to incorporate things from all areas of life, just to shut him down. To my surprise I got this back:

I can do all of them.

What? Who are you guy? You can’t possible believe that! So I see him a few minutes later and I say to him “There’s no way you can tightrope walk.” He says “It’s all about balance and focus.” I say “And you can do the strongman competition?” “All you said was can I compete, yea I can compete.” Interesting. I let it go for a while because I realize that he is not all about believing that he can do these things, but that he is about saying the right things to where you can’t prove him wrong. I later say “You can’t swim the english channel.” He says “If you give me enough time.” See all he is looking for in a verbal out. I get it. But I did get him to admit that he couldn’t say Pi to 50 places, but even that was a struggle: “SO what is Pi, to 50 places?” “Well you need to give me the time to think about it,” he says. I say “If you know it you know it, only geniuses can do something like that. I only know to four places.” He, of course, replies “Well you do know what classifies a genius right? See they say we only use 10% of our brain, so if you use 11% you’re a genius.” I guess he wins again, for now. But I would appreciate if you could suggest things that Beasley can’t do in the comments section. I actually think he would get a kick out of saying how he could do them. He actually is enjoying me writing this right now.

Me vs The Madden Racist

Rod Benson — 2007-03-30T11:04:18-07:00

As many of you may or may not have read, I like to play Madden NFL 2007. Actually, that’s a hell of an understatement, I love Madden. I love it like my child, or my wife. In my last post about Madden, I made all of these things clear. Now I would say that I am more in love than ever. I want to renew my vows to Madden because it makes me feel so good on a daily basis. Yea, I said it. You may think I’m crazy now, but thats ok. Im crazy in love... with my XBOX 360 and Madden.

I was sitting in my living room on a snowy day 3 weeks ago, when it dawned on me to go get a 360 so I could play Madden. So I did. It didnt take long before I realized that the 360 version is completely different than the PS2 one used to be, and that I would need time to adjust. So I called my teammate over who claimed to be good and we played a game. He actually beat me like 65-63. I couldn’t believe I lost. I hadnt lost a game since back in September 2006, weeks after the game came out. I then decided to go online and join the Madden Nation. Here I could test my skills, day in and day out, and prove to myself what kind of player I could be. I have since beaten him 10 straight times. He quit every one for fear of the score getting out of control.

Game one, go time, no looking back, in there like swimwear. I still didnt know the controls, but I didnt care. Well, neither did the guy who was beating me 35-0 before I unplugged the cord from the box. I read the manual and turned my box back on. This time I was playing an 11 year old kid. He got up 14-0 on me before saying “Wow, you’re 22 years old? You suck.” Bastard little kid, if only he knew my accolades on the PS2, if only he knew. Well too bad for him that I came storming back to beat his 6th grade ass. Oh yea, I was running my mouth the whole time too. See in case you don’t know, you have a headset on when you play this game, meaning you can hear them, they can hear you. So on my way back to victory I used my trash-talk skills. I was like “Dont you have homework to do son?” “Hey Jessica Simpson called, she says get proactive now before the pimples take over in two years.” “I’m the school bully kid, time to take your beating!” “Hey kid, dont ever speak to your elder with disrespect son. I wont tolerate that kind of disrespect!” Am I the bad guy here? No. This is online Madden, and all’s fair in love and Madden. If he couldnt take the heat, he shouldve stayed out my kitchen runnin his mouth!

Well since that game, I have gone 28-17. I only challenge people with winning records, and my record isnt quite indicative of my ability because my internet cuts out sometimes and when it does, I lose automatically. Im like a .750 winning percentage. So I go into every game confident that I will win. Well, I go into this game against a guy whos GAMERTAG is “FudgeOmaha”. He’s the Cowboys, I’m the Chargers as usual. He says “What’s up?” in a thick southern accent. I say “What’s up?” From then on he doesn’t say a word. He jumps out to a 12-7 lead and then I run off 28 straight points. The whole time Im singing various rap songs into the mic trying to get a reaction out of him because hey, trash talk is my job. That’s when it took an unexpected turn. As my boy Tomlinson runs in a 75 yard touchdown, I hear the guy fondle with his mic a little. Then, no joke, he says “F*#k you, you f*43kin N-gger.” I say “Wait, what did you say? I don’t think I heard you right.” He then repeats it: “I said F*#k you, you f*43kin N-gger.” Now as a black man, there are only so many things you can do when a white guy calls you this, but when playing madden online there are even less. I dont know this guy, he could be anywhere. I could report his GAMERTAG in which case he would just get another one, I could get all worked up for no reason, or I could turn my box off and lose the game. Well if you know me, you know that I don’t follow those kinds of rules. I came right back at him. “Hey whoa whoa whoa, don’t tell me you’re a racist? Oh man this is just too good. It gets better and better!” He seemed a little surprised that I would say that so he said “Shut up!” I was like “Hey hey hey, man where are you from?” “Why the F*#k would I tell you, N-gger?”, he replied. “Well,” I said, “where I’m from, guys like you are few and far between. You wouldn’t like it there. Too many (in a southern accent) damn liberals!” He doesn’t reply. Right then he runs back my kickoff for a touchdown. You know how announcers will say things like “He’s at the 30, the 20, the 10... Touchdown!”? Well he kinda did the same thing except it was “F*#k you N-gger, F*#k you N-gger, F*#k you N-gger... Touchdown!” I swear to you this is what he says. Im sure he wants me to start insulting white people or something, but I refuse. My next possession I am just annoying the hell out of this guy. As I’m marching down the field for my next score I, in the thickest accent I can conjure, say things like “Hey hey hey, why would you control DeMarcus Ware? He’s black! Wait hey hey hey! Now you wanna use him to sack my white quarterback!? What the hell is wrong with you? Can I report you to the KKK? You seem like a N-gger lover to me! Do you have some sort of bumper sticker that says ‘How’s my Racism? Call 1-800-LOVE KKK’? No? Well look, just sub in your white guys so we can have a racial battle.” I swear this got to him so bad it was unbelievable. All he was saying was “Shut up, shut the F*#k up!” over and over again. But I didn’t shut up, this was Madden. I was winning 45-19 at this point and there were still 6 minutes left. “So were you born racist or did you become it? I seriously want to know. Did your dad beat you into racism? Was it like a class in school that was mandatory? Do you include other races in your hatred or just blacks?” He wont answer any of the questions because I’m just running them off a mile a minute. Im doing my best to get under his skin and it’s working. As the game comes to an end, I say to him “So let’s review what we learned today, shall we? We learned that YOU are stupid, ignorant, and slow. We learned that YOU suck at Madden. We learned that you have no pride and are a loser. We also learned that I am smarter than you, which really sucks because I’m black, so don’t lose sleep over it, it happens. We learned that I completely dominated you in Madden all while out witting you and proving myself to be much more assertive and a better trash talker than you. We learned that white supremacy can’t possibly mean athletically because you only used black players, you hypocrite, and it cant mean academically because you are one stupid summabitch. So, I’ll ask you again... What have we learned?”

Absolutely beautiful right? I feel like the damage I did to him verbally is much worse than any reporting of his GAMERTAG would have been. Well as soon as I exit the game, I get a friend request from “FudgeOmaha”. Word? You really wanna play me again, son? I accepted it because he obviously wanted a rematch. Next time I was online, he was also online and he sent me a message that said “Rematch.” Sure, why not beat the brakes off him once again for all my people. This time wasnt as fun because he didnt have his headset in. I beat him 65-0. After the game he sent me a message that said, and I am not changing it for censorship purposes: “N1553R.” It took me a second to realize what it meant, but when it hit me I sent him back “Hey it’s too bad you wont play me anymore, I had a lot more lessons to teach you, son.” Two days later he sent “God bless you.” Word? Trying to flip the script at this stage in the game? Not even worth a reply. What would you do in my situation? Am I wrong for comin at him with his own material?

Anyways, I will keep you updated on him, along with my other madden exploits that are worth mentioning. Until then..

Funny MySpace Messages 6

Rod Benson — 2007-03-11T10:49:34-07:00

Uh oh, looks like it’s time for the 6th edition of funny myspace messages. For whatever reason, you all seem to like these the best. I still think they are absurd, but hey, I’ll play along if it means somebody will think it’s funny. Well enough for the intro, I’ve got what you came here for, so let’s get into it...

Underage women will just never get it. First there was “ScoobyDoo”:

ScoobyDoo is 15 years old. ScoobyDoo’s headline reads: ALL YA'LL HOES NEEDS 2 STOP HATIN. ScoobyDoo sent me this:

u really play basketball

so I sent back:

no, I just say that so that girls will get at me on myspace

It’s like come on now little girl. My profile says I play basketball, half of my pics are of me hanging from the coddamn rim, and all you think to say to me was that? I mean absolutely nothing can be said that could make me wanna holla at a 15 year old girl, but you can step your effort up! She hit me back with this:

oh ok u got me on that one

Oh you think? Glad you figured that one out all by yourself.

Then there was 8@mB3®L!c!0u$ . In case you dont know what that says, it’s “MySpace” for “Bambe-licious”. Right when I read the display name, I knew this chick had to be like 13 years old. That, and the fact that this was her photo:

This is what she sent me:

Th@nk$ 4 d@ @dd. L3t m3 $pr!nkl3 d@t l!c!0u$ l0v3 0n y0 p@g3....$pr!nkl3 $pr!nkl3....

Holy hell, who do you think I am? Do you really think I have the patience to sit here and decode this coddamn message? How much effort does it take to write somethin like that out, replacing all the I’s with !’s and all the E’s with 3’s? You must be kidding. No way you could survive on a show like “Wheel of Fortune.” I can see it now...”I’d like to buy a vowel.” “Which one?” “I’d like to buy a 3, please.” “Vana, do we have any 3’s? Sorry, no 3’s.” There is no way this girl has even graduated junior high, right? Wrong. She’s 20 muthalovin years old! 20! Are you serious? Go to class! Get a job! Do something better with yourself than write these messages that require a keyword to decode. Her future may not be too bright considering the fact that in her “who I’d like to meet” section, she had this:

Of course that’s who you’d like to meet. Sweet. I bet they all type in code too...

I thought she was young, but BR@NDI really was 16. Would you like to meet her? Ok, here she is:

Yep. That’s really her picture. She actually took this photo, liked it, asked her girlfriends what they thought, agreed with them that it was good enough for myspace, then uploaded it. Showing your grill is one thing, but looking like a rabid doberman is another. Brandi sent me this:

so ulive in L.A

I was way too overwhelmed by her photo to even let that ride. I hit her back with:

way too old for u

I felt like that was better than telling her that the Halloween store is seasonal, so no, they are not hiring right now. So she hit me with this:

i wasnt tryin to get with you noh i have a man

That’s interesting that she would say that. Why would you want to know if I lived in L.A. in the first place? You wanted to send me mail or something? I highly doubt it. My boy Clayton and I were talking about it. See, Clayton has like 8500 myspace friends, so he knows his stuff maybe even better than me. He says that people do this because they don’t want the shame of being turned down. So I asked him if he had any other concrete examples. Haha of course he did. He forwarded me a couple messages that he got in the past few days, starting with this one:

What it do man.

I guess Clayton read the message, but didn’t respond. Probly because this was the person who sent it:

Well, on myspace, you can tell if someone has read your message or not. I guess “Fly Guy”, as he calls himself, noticed that the message had been read, so he hit Clayton up again:

Yo man, am I not good enough for a response? Come on dont do it dirty like that

Well, I’m sure that Clay is now thinking that this guy is not only gay (Clay’s so straight he eats his hot dogs from the middle first), but that he has some sort of self esteem issues. So clay sends back something like “I didn’t respond because I’m not gay, I don’t get down like that.” So “Fly Guy” responds by saying:

Yo it aint even that type party here man, dont know where you get that idea from buddy.

Hmm, really guy? You don’t know where he got that idea from? You asked him if you were good enough homie! You told him not to do you dirty like that! Last time I checked, that’s a pretty good idea what type of party it is. Sounds like you play for the visitors, if you know what I mean. Actually, turns out one of your teammates got at my boy Clayton too:

His name is “ ///////////////////////// IM STILL ME BITCH ////// “... whatever that means. He is just another guy in a long list of guys who ignore the “straight” tag on the myspace profile and still get at heterosexual men. Here’s what he had to say to Clay:

Whats good man,

Yo Im moving from Minnesota to Cali in about a month..

lookin for a friend to show me around..

Yea, there’s no denying it for this guy. It’s definitely that type of party. Actually, I thought it was funny because his “orientation” tag said “not sure,” but there were plenty of signs on his page that he was sure. Like the fact that is background music was by some musician named “Nasty Nate.” I’m sure that to most of you, that name means nothing, but to anyone who has seen the movie “Half Baked” it means a lot. Nasty Nate is the name of the gay guy who constantly tries to “welcome” the cop killer to prison. Anyways, there was another sign that he was definitely gay, and that was the fact that all of his top friends had the signature gay pose

Hey look, I have no problem with anyone’s orientation, but why is it that gay men have a real high tendency to take pictures that show their pubic hair, honestly? Lordy lordy, it’s tough for me to even sit here and comment on this considering I have to see the pic in order for you to see it. Oh yea, i thought this football pose was pretty funny too:

Shoulder pads and nothing else is so the hottest look right now. I saw it in GQ.

Well, Clay and I laughed about his little messages, but I knew that mine were still funnier. His man-tastical messages still have nothing on mine. I mean seriously, who sends a message like this:

I am doing an research paper for school, topic , torture, I wanted someone that is cool to do certain things to simulate this (step on me , spit , ect)

If you can use a car to getaround tonight and sun, hit me up you can have the car to use if you are coo to help me with this research, holla for more info

I don’t quite know if you read that right. This guy just invited me over to spit on him, seriously. He seriously, honestly sent me this. I checked his page. His name is “What it Doe!” and this is him:

Yea, wow huh? His main pic wasn’t as funny to me as his other pic:

Why the hell are you taking a picture of you feet, son? Why do you think people would wanna see that. The shoes aren’t cool, you’re obviously sitting at your computer, in your desk chair. Did you sniff some rubber cement at work and just go crazy? You’re 33 years old, what paper could you possibly be writing? I decided that I needed at least some answer to this madness. So I sent him this:

what the heck r u talkin about

I just had to know, ya know? Well, he hit me back with this:

I am writing a paper for my research paper, I wanted someone to simulate torture by doin certain things to me, like step on me, pierce me ect, and in return I will let you use my car, if the car use is something you can use

Forreal guy? So you ARE serious? No way. No way can you be writing a research paper. This is exactly how good people end up the next subject for “CSI: Miami.” There’s no way that this is a real paper. This guy can’t even formulate a coherent myspace message, let alone write a research paper. He wants me to PIERCE him? Hoolllllyyyyy $h!t that’s off the chains. This guy browses myspace looking for men to come by and pierce him, not even caring about the consequences. I can only assume that it’s because he is the one you should be a afraid of. That’s just unreal. I wonder if anyone actually met this guy....hopefully they’re still alive. I sent this back to him:

Wow thats a pretty hardcore study. Youre gonna let random people pierce you? and give them YOUR car? Thats crazy man

That ended it. He hasn’t messaged me back since. Luckily he was the only guy to cross the line in the past few months. That doesn’t mean that the girls stopped by any means. Check out these girls:

These girls all have one myspace page together. Their display name reads “WE BE THOSE GO GETTAS CHICKS” ... creative I know. They sent me this ambitious message, twice:

HEY YOU
DAMN ARE YOU WITH DA BIZ?
WE IF SO YOU SHOULD
GET TO KNOW DA GO GETTER CHICKS
YA DIGG
WELL YEAH YOU SHOULD
HOLLA AT US DO YOU LIKE
TO FUN IF SO .....YOU KNOW
WHAT TO DO !!!! HOLLA AT YO GIRLS
WE ROLL DIP CAN YOU HANDLE IT???
DONT THINK SO BUT WE'LL FIND OUT
ADD OR PAGE<3

I can honestly say I have no idea what the hell any of that means. Not one word. I mean coddamn, there are 5 of you, can’t one you type a coherent word? I guess they roll “DIP”, hope I can handle it! I figure, mann, might as well type something back that not even I understand and see if they can decipher it:

oh fa sho go gettaz lemme kno wutz really good wit it get back at me and we could do tha dam thang if u feelin it holla back

Damn, I’m just not as good at it as they are. Mann, it sucks that I had a good education sometimes...oh well. They didn’t seem to mind how well spoken I was:

we FEEL IT
LOL BUT YEAH GET AT
YOUR GIRLS
714/944/XXXX

I took out part of their number so that you crazy’s won’t call them or anything, but yea, they are definitely ready like spaghetti. It’s funny, but I think I just reinforced everything I stand against. These girls are all 14-16, and now that I responded to them, they think they can do it all the time. I mean, maybe they already do. I guess I’ve definitely responded to worse:

Hey there sexy! What's up just stopping by your page to show u some love.. Just want to say thanks for adding me to your web page. Well have a good day on the other side of the world. U know what to do holla at your gurl!!

SweetAnn

Hey, I know what you’re thinking: “of course you should respond to a message like this, Rod.” Well, think again:

Funky butt lovin- look at her! No way, I should respond to that. Haha, well, turns out I did. I just wanted to throw out something really ridiculous so that she would get the point that I couldn’t really be interested:

hey sweet ann. what have u been up to? I just got back from a trip to New Zealand. I wwas a guest on a ship that caught the biggest squid ever. Hit me back.

Hahaha. I just told her that I caught the biggest squid ever. There’s no way she should consider me serious whatsoever. Welllllll, wrong again. This girl proceeded to send me all of these over the last 3 weeks. I got one today, actually:

Hey there sweet and sexy!! So how is everything with u hope all is good. Well just strolling down your page to show some of my love to u. Well just take care and be safe for me. Well u know what to do holla at your gurl!

Sweetann

Hey there my Boo!! So how is it just thought I stop by and show u some mad love on your page. Justed wanted to know how your day was hope all is good with. Well i was just thinking about u and seeing if your doing the same. Well got to go now take care, u know what to do holla at your gurl..

Hey hottie! how r u, just stopping by your page to show u some love. So how was your weekend hope it was good as it is for me. So what been going on with u these days did anything good or u just chillin. So hope u doing ok, well got to go now have a good day. U know what to do holla at your gurl!

SweetAnn

ey sexy! What's up with u these days. Just passing through your page to show u some of my love!! Well how was your day there, hope all is good. Well I miss u already wish I can see but I'm so far away from u, only time can tell. But u just never might not know. I will be there in the summer to vist my cousin Jennifer. Well got to go now u know what to do holla at your gurl!!

there sexy! What's up, I'm glad u had a good time on your trip to New Zealand. So how was it in New Zeland was there alot to do back like site see. Did u buy anything nice for any of your friends and family back there. If u ever take another trip make sure u come and vist me here on Guam. I'm planing on go to vist my cousin back there in the states in Californa, during the summer. She going to show me around when I get back there. Well got to go now bye.. take care and be safe.

Oh no, what have I done? How could she really believe I caught the biggest squid ever? How? Why was she messaging me so much now? I haven’t responded since! Dang, I dont know if this will ever stop. In fact, I think it’s crazy enough that she said she “misses” me “already.” How can you miss me and we’ve never met? How crazy are you? Mann you can’t just use myspace as an excuse to go crazy, you just can’t. But then again, I guess it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary anymore.

This last girl kind of falls into her own category. I’ve never gotten a message like this before, and I assume that by posting it here, it can only make matters worse, but then again, I just have to:

you are lame. if you hate bismarck and north dakota so much then leave cuz we sure as hell dont want you here. go fulfill your nba fantasies somewhere else. especially since you think pretty much all north dakota girls are fat and you hate on the bars. if you dont like the fuckin smoke then dont go. just leave north dakota. no one wants an asshole like you here.

When I got this I felt like a retard. I’m sitting here in my apartment thinking to myself “Mann, did you really offend someone like this? No way. She has it all wrong. I’m not a bad guy at all.” So I sent this back:

Haha well Im sorry you feel so strongly, for one. Im about to update my blog tomorrow about how much Ive actually come to like it here, mainly because the people are so nice. But I can understand if you take issue with what I wrote, hey, I wrote it the first week I was there, so it was a culture shock. Anyways, you can hate me or whatever, but I don't resent your comments because I would feel the same way in your position. Just know that I dont hate Bismarck, but after the first night out, at Buck no less, that was all I saw.

Rod

P.S. You should never take anything I write so seriously, Im pretty sure nobody who knows me REALLY believes I could hate any place as much as you think I do.

So I’m on AIM, and I’ve sent the message to a couple of my friends, including JGant. This is the conversation we have:

JGant Me
Who wrote that?
   some random chick on myspace
Wow
I feel that msg...she was serious
   yea tell me about it
12:35 AM
Goodness...calm down
   hahah forreal
She must b the mayor or sumthin...she caring a bit too much
   i sent her back such a nice message
U get the weirdest msgs on myspace
How u get all that...I gets no love attall
I mean renaissance
haha
Were lovers not fighters

After talkin with JGant, I realize that he’s right. This is a myspace message. I have free reign to add it to my messages and peep her page. So the next day when I was kinda over being sad that I had angered someone so much, I went back and looked at her page. Haha, so, ladies and gentlemen, this is her:

To be honest, I don’t know which one is her, because her profile is set to “private.” No matter...so00o much to work with here anyways. What this looks like to me is that she is actually not angry at my initial feelings about Bismarck, I think she is one of the nasty, smoky chicks that I turned down one night. She’s gotta be. I mean honestly, her message says “you think pretty much all North Dakota girls are fat.” To me, that says that you must be one of those girls. Hey, it aint my fault I have a faster metabolism, that’s just life. I’ve since met a ton of girls out here who, for one, look wayyy better than you, so you don’t have to worry about what I think about the girls, and for two, would never, ever put stunna shades on and take a myspace pic like that. None of the girls I have since met have a display name that reads “hell yeah, THE motherf*cking princes” . None of these girls have a headline that reads “in a second you'll be wrapped around my finger, cuz i can do it better”. Do you really think that you have men wrapped around your finger? I actually have to assume that you will read this. I must say that in the history of men, no man was born thinking “I want a fat, smoky girl. Actually, hell yea, I want the muthaf*cking princess! She can do it better!” How can you even get mad if I criticize a bar? You are 20 years old, stay at your house party and have and older friend buy you beer next time you wanna get online and talk reckless. Hey, I have an I.D., I’ll get you some. Look, I should stop, because I really not even a mean person, but when it comes to myspace messages, it’s all fair game to me. All I have to say is, in closing, that I have no problem with Bismarck whatsoever. Like any new thing, it takes time to get used to. I’m from southern California, and I know tons of people who can’t stand it down there. I just happen to be the kind of person (like 99.9% of the people I met in Bismarck so far) who would suggest other types of scenes down there instead of hide behind a whack myspace page and tell them to leave. If you think I’m really hard on the town, or whatever, you might be right, but my sentiments have changed. Besides, I’m really hard on myself if you took the time to read anything else on my site. Well, regardless, if it wasn’t a myspace message, it wouldn’t be here, but it was. So don’t consider me making fun of you an attack, consider yourself like everyone else in this post, just another person who messaged the wrong guy.

Pick-Up Attempt

Rod Benson — 2007-03-10T10:46:16-08:00

I see some of the most ridiculous pick up attempts of all time, almost on a daily basis. Usually it’s along the lines of a loud yell like “AY!” or, “Can I buy you a drink?”, or something else that I know that the girl can’t possibly go for, but sometimes it’s a little worse.

A few days ago I saw one of the funnier attempts I’ve seen in a while took place right in front of me. I was at a local restaurant with a teammate of mine. When we get seated, he notices a waitress on the other side of the restaurant and asks our waiter to re-seat us to the woman’s section. I had already gotten my Lemonade and now this guy wants to move. We get over there and she is a pretty attractive girl, so I’m interested to see what my teammate is gonna do. She comes over to take our orders. I say something along the way that makes her smile before she leaves. He says to me that this is his girl, he’ll handle it. Then, just to mess with my teammate, I tell him that I’m gonna make a move and give her my business card. Haha, he knows that he can’t match the card, so he asks another waiter for a pen and some paper. He takes the paper and starts writing a note. I tell him that the whole note thing is a little bit junior high. He should man up and ask her for her number. He says to me, dead serious “I would, but I don’t know if that guy got her number earlier. Besides you can’t come at white girls like that, you need to say this cheesy $h!^ to get them to smile. Besides, she might be intimidated by all of us being here at once.” I lean over and read as he writes:

“Hey Beth I find you attractive but Im a little shy. i was wondering if I could take you out to dinner? Or maybe you could come to my game tonite. I play with the Wizards.
circle yes no”

I start laughing uncontrollably when I read this. Im still laughing when she comes back. He hands her the note when she gives us our food. She leaves and comes back with a note of her own:

“Thanks for the compliment, but I am not looking for anything more right now. I’ll see you at the game tonight though. Go Wizards.”

I’m now laughing so hard I can’t even breathe. All his little tactics and calculations, even the “circle yes or no” at the end of his note because thats what white girls like. Classic. Shut down. Gotta love it. Anyways, that’s all for now, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled for more.

Fast Times in North and South Dakota

Rod Benson — 2007-03-10T10:43:07-08:00

It’s been a pretty uneventful couple of weeks since I last had anything worth saying, but I guess there have been enough developments to finally let everyone know how I’m livin.

Last time I wrote about Bismarck, I complained that it was way too cold, and snowy, and that the only girls I could find were fat and smoky. Well, things havent changed too much, but I’ll tell you what, it was 20 below back then and it’s 30 above now which feels like 80. I haven’t worn my gloves in weeks, and my jacket is currently more of an accessory than something to keep me warm. I know what you’re thinkin: “Hey, it’s only 30, you do need a jacket at all times.” I beg to differ, sweaters do the trick just fine right now, so I can’t complain about the cold too much. However it’s still cold enough for ice to be everywhere on the ground, meaning that if you take one false step, your ass is liable to end up back flipping onto your neck. I take little baby steps all the time to avoid the career ending injury that I’m sure is waiting for me.

I must say I’ve adjusted to the night life. That first night I went to Buck’s was somewhat of an anomaly, although not totally. I haven’t seen any fat girls wildly dancing on the floor or screaming “Let hip-hop Live!” I certainly haven’t had any fight over me. I’ve learned two things since I last wrote about Buck’s.

First, there are quite a few non-smoky fat girls, they just tend to avoid Buck’s for the most part, but you can still find some there. My coach, along with some of my blog readers, suggested a couple other places for me to go. He especially knows that I like a more professional scene and led me accordingly. As for Bucks, I guess that the girls who had hit on me before were acting on prior experience. Yea, I mean like they have definitely messed around with some Wizards in the past. I guess score for them and boo for whatever former or current wizard who went for the WWE tag team. I mean I bet those girls feel like it’s playing a lottery that they’ve actually won a few times. Proposition a Wizard, have a great night, and go to Denny’s in the morning for a Lumberjack Slam. It’s actually like the same four girls who are all ready like spaghetti and I see them there every time. Im actually kind of friends with them now. By this point they know that I like to go there and dance and have a good time without their company later on, so it’s all good.

Secondly, I think every single state except for California allows smoking in bars, so it’s pretty much just a situation you have to deal with if you leave. It aint just a North Dakota thing.

All that being said, I have had some good times, bad times, and downright weird times out here the past few weeks. For starters, one night when Matteen Cleaves was in town, we went to a place called “Stadium” sports bar. Now I must say I had a terrible time, mostly because I was so tired from the game, and partly because there were only about 15 people there. There were some good looking people, but I was way too tired to talk to any of them, I was ready to leave 10 minutes after we got there. One person who was definitely not afraid to say a coddamn word was a woman I had never met before. She was actually a very nice woman, but still provided some some strange events that night. She’s 6’3”, 275-300 lbs. I kid you not this is her size. As soon as I walk in, Corey Williams says to me “Hey Rod, ask her to give you the hug.” She then says “Oh you want the hug?” I look at her from head to toe then I look at Corey the same way you would look at Steve Irwin if he asked you if you wanted to hunt crocodiles. I say to Corey: “THE hug doesn’t sound good. If it was A hug that’s one thing, but THE hug sounds like it’s a little too much.” Right then she just grabs me and picks me up about 5 feet in the air in the middle of the bar. My body is so long that I swear my limbs must have knocked over a couple drinks and smacked someone in the face. I don’t get embarrassed easily, but right then I was about as flush as a black guy could be. She finally set me down and I went about my business as if nothing happened. I guess nobody else in the place seemed to care, maybe this was her gimmick and she was the main attraction at the bar. Anyways, she did the exact same thing to Matteen. This guy, no joke, screams out like a 13-year-old girl at a scary movie. He bobbled his drink and everything he was so scared. It was funny because she got him from behind. It wasn’t long before she had picked up everyone. Yes, everyone, including 285 lb. center Kevin Lyde who was helpless to fight back. The only surprise was Darius Rice. This kid is lighter than me, yet, when she tried to pick him up, he locked his legs in some weird sumo stance, and picked HER up. They were almost wrestling it looked so awkward. What you see in that picture is her basically refusing to let Corey do anything but talk to her. Every time Corey tried to get up, she sat his ass right back down. When I left she still had him locked up on the stools.

So after that night I decided to cross Stadium Sports Bar off my list of potential new spots. What came next was a road trip to Sioux Falls. The day before we left “The Biz” as I’m calling it now, one of my closer friends on the team, Curtis Stinson, was released. I guess that’s how it goes. A few of us went to Buck’s to show him one last good time. We stayed at Buck’s until closing time (not without dancing for 2 hours straight first) then headed back to the apartments to play monopoly until 3 am. Bright idea I know. Well, we had to get up at 6am for a flight to Sioux Falls, but my retarded self forgot to pack the night before. So I had to pack in the morning running on empty – an event I don’t even really remember. The whole pack job is a complete blur in my mind. When we got to the airport I noticed that everyone else had big bags with them. I had two backpacks -- hmm first sign that I didn’t do it right. I say to Kevin Lyde: “Hey, Kevin, how many days is this trip?” “Four,” he replies. Oh snap there couldn’t be FOUR DAYS WORTH of essentials in my backpack, no way. I open up my bag and look inside. Ok, there’s one collard shirt, one pair of jeans, a pair of sweats and a jacket. NO WAY I didn’t pack ANYTHING else. No Underwear. No Socks. No toothpaste. No deodorant. No Phone charger. Obviously it was the best packing job of all time. If it weren’t for the fact that our flight was cancelled due to a big time blizzard, I would have ended up in Tulsa smelling like burnt hair and Tabasco. Lucky for me our trip was cut short and I was able to return to The Biz for a fresh set of clothes.

Since we didn’t go to Tulsa like we were supposed to, we ended up going to Buck’s again, but not the Buck’s I know. Turns out there is also a Bucks in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Who knows how many of these places exist out there? I certainly did not know this place was a coddamn chain, that’s for sure. Anyways, when we got there, for some reason, I was really feelin it. I must be turning real North Dakota these days, but I was having a good time and at the same time thinking “Mann our Buck’s is way better.” That’s right, OUR Buck’s. Us North Dakotan’s haha. So I’m in this place and they don’t play one rap song the whole time, the closest they get is “Fergilicious”. For some reason I am not bothered. I’m kind of feelin the country. There are the old favorites “What hurts the most”, “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy”, and “We’re Comin to Your City”. It’s safe to say that I know the words to these songs right now and if I’m really feelin myself, you might catch me singing them like everyone else there. But this night there were new songs. I’m talkin to my teammates and I hear “Billy’s got his beer goggles on!” I kind of perk up. No way is there a beer goggle song, no way. But oh yes, it is true and I love it. I start listening to the words:
   Awww Yah!
   Billy’s at the bar, he’s been there all night
   First ten beers he’s had, since her goodbye
   HEY! HEY!

   She left him broke, in his new truck
   He don’t smoke, but he lights one up
   Temporary fix, for his heartache
   He’s hurting bad, but he’s feeling great

   He’s on the dance floor yelling Freebird
   Singing off pitch but he knows every word
   Grabs him a girl and he holds on tight
   He’s chasing everything in sight
   He’ll fall apart when he gets home
   But right now his worries are gone
   Life looks good, good, good
   Billy’s got his beer goggles on
   Hey!
Could there be a better song ever in the history of songs? No, I can’t C-Walk to this nonsense, but I tell ya what, I don’t know a guy who can’t relate. Hooray for you, Country Music, hooray. So now I’m alertly listening to every word of every song and they are all appealing to me for some reason. “I play chicken with the train” catches my ear.

hugg a lugga [3x],
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 dont know what any of that means. I don’t know what CMA’s are nor do I know one Tim McGraw song, but I’ll tell you what, it made me wanna play chicken with some trains. It’s pretty safe to say I had a great time that night. I guess I must’ve bought into the lifestyle somewhere along the way.

Back at Buck’s in North Dakota a week later, I was having a good time once again. This time they were playing all the hip hop hits so Renaldo, Corey, Chris, and I had a dance off. Renaldo started it off with a head bobblin, leg wigglin thing that was very “first round”. He was obviously saving his better material for latter rounds. Corey comes out and does the same. Chris hits us with a little tootsie roll action. Hands on knees swaying back and forth, a very solid first round effort. I want all the marbles right away, I wanna end this thing in round one. I do my patented “Baseball” dance. I bring the bat back and get into my stance at the plate (all to the beat of the song mind you). I look the invisible pitcher straight in the eye, as if to say “bring it.” The invisible pitch comes and I swing my bat to the rhythm of the song, and connect with the ball. I put my hand over my forehead to shield my eyes from the sun and watch the ball go over the fence. I trot the bases (still in rhythm) in place and jump up to stomp home plate. I feel like this is game over for this dance contest. Right then Renaldo starts round two with his “football” dance. He gets low beneath the center and takes the snap. He does a 3 step drop and surveys the defense. He pump fakes left, then shifts his feet and throws right. Right then I see Corey running a coddamn post route through the other dancers. He catches the pass and spikes the ball. Renaldo does he own touchdown dance. Chris’ turn. Chris gauges his reel, then casts his bait far into the lake. It looks like he’s caught something. His “fishing” dance looks solid. He reels in his catch, right on beat, and displays his prize catch. Although I only did one dance, I felt as though this competition was over because I couldn’t think of another good sport to dance to. Renaldo claims that he is the champion, but I disagree because he took the sports theme from me and if Corey hadn’t gone long, it would have just been average. It was a solo competition, not a tandem dance off. Just another night out in Bismarck. I think I’ll go to “Bistro” tonight, which is one of my coaches recommended spots. Who knows? Maybe I’ll engage in a great conversation about how, now that the snow has melted, I realize that there was grass underneath all along. It could happen.

Last time I wrote about Bismarck, I complained that it was way too cold, and snowy, and that the only girls I could find were fat and smoky. Well, things havent changed too much, but I’ll tell you what, it was 20 below back then and it’s 30 above now which feels like 80. I haven’t worn my gloves in weeks, and my jacket is currently more of an accessory than something to keep me warm. I know what you’re thinkin: “Hey, it’s only 30, you do need a jacket at all times.” I beg to differ, sweaters do the trick just fine right now, so I can’t complain about the cold too much. However it’s still cold enough for ice to be everywhere on the ground, meaning that if you take one false step, your ass is liable to end up back flipping onto your neck. I take little baby steps all the time to avoid the career ending injury that I’m sure is waiting for me.

I must say I’ve adjusted to the night life. That first night I went to Buck’s was somewhat of an anomaly, although not totally. I haven’t seen any fat girls wildly dancing on the floor or screaming “Let hip-hop Live!” I certainly haven’t had any fight over me. I’ve learned two things since I last wrote about Buck’s.

First, there are quite a few non-smoky fat girls, they just tend to avoid Buck’s for the most part, but you can still find some there. My coach, along with some of my blog readers, suggested a couple other places for me to go. He especially knows that I like a more professional scene and led me accordingly. As for Bucks, I guess that the girls who had hit on me before were acting on prior experience. Yea, I mean like they have definitely messed around with some Wizards in the past. I guess score for them and boo for whatever former or current wizard who went for the WWE tag team. I mean I bet those girls feel like it’s playing a lottery that they’ve actually won a few times. Proposition a Wizard, have a great night, and go to Denny’s in the morning for a Lumberjack Slam. It’s actually like the same four girls who are all ready like spaghetti and I see them there every time. Im actually kind of friends with them now. By this point they know that I like to go there and dance and have a good time without their company later on, so it’s all good.

Secondly, I think every single state except for California allows smoking in bars, so it’s pretty much just a situation you have to deal with if you leave. It aint just a North Dakota thing.

All that being said, I have had some good times, bad times, and downright weird times out here the past few weeks. For starters, one night when Matteen Cleaves was in town, we went to a place called “Stadium” sports bar. Now I must say I had a terrible time, mostly because I was so tired from the game, and partly because there were only about 15 people there. There were some good looking people, but I was way too tired to talk to any of them, I was ready to leave 10 minutes after we got there. One person who was definitely not afraid to say a coddamn word was a woman I had never met before. She was actually a very nice woman, but still provided some some strange events that night. She’s 6’3”, 275-300 lbs. I kid you not this is her size. As soon as I walk in, Corey Williams says to me “Hey Rod, ask her to give you the hug.” She then says “Oh you want the hug?” I look at her from head to toe then I look at Corey the same way you would look at Steve Irwin if he asked you if you wanted to hunt crocodiles. I say to Corey: “THE hug doesn’t sound good. If it was A hug that’s one thing, but THE hug sounds like it’s a little too much.” Right then she just grabs me and picks me up about 5 feet in the air in the middle of the bar. My body is so long that I swear my limbs must have knocked over a couple drinks and smacked someone in the face. I don’t get embarrassed easily, but right then I was about as flush as a black guy could be. She finally set me down and I went about my business as if nothing happened. I guess nobody else in the place seemed to care, maybe this was her gimmick and she was the main attraction at the bar. Anyways, she did the exact same thing to Matteen. This guy, no joke, screams out like a 13-year-old girl at a scary movie. He bobbled his drink and everything he was so scared. It was funny because she got him from behind. It wasn’t long before she had picked up everyone. Yes, everyone, including 285 lb. center Kevin Lyde who was helpless to fight back. The only surprise was Darius Rice. This kid is lighter than me, yet, when she tried to pick him up, he locked his legs in some weird sumo stance, and picked HER up. They were almost wrestling it looked so awkward. What you see in that picture is her basically refusing to let Corey do anything but talk to her. Every time Corey tried to get up, she sat his ass right back down. When I left she still had him locked up on the stools.

So after that night I decided to cross Stadium Sports Bar off my list of potential new spots. What came next was a road trip to Sioux Falls. The day before we left “The Biz” as I’m calling it now, one of my closer friends on the team, Curtis Stinson, was released. I guess that’s how it goes. A few of us went to Buck’s to show him one last good time. We stayed at Buck’s until closing time (not without dancing for 2 hours straight first) then headed back to the apartments to play monopoly until 3 am. Bright idea I know. Well, we had to get up at 6am for a flight to Sioux Falls, but my retarded self forgot to pack the night before. So I had to pack in the morning running on empty – an event I don’t even really remember. The whole pack job is a complete blur in my mind. When we got to the airport I noticed that everyone else had big bags with them. I had two backpacks -- hmm first sign that I didn’t do it right. I say to Kevin Lyde: “Hey, Kevin, how many days is this trip?” “Four,” he replies. Oh snap there couldn’t be FOUR DAYS WORTH of essentials in my backpack, no way. I open up my bag and look inside. Ok, there’s one collard shirt, one pair of jeans, a pair of sweats and a jacket. NO WAY I didn’t pack ANYTHING else. No Underwear. No Socks. No toothpaste. No deodorant. No Phone charger. Obviously it was the best packing job of all time. If it weren’t for the fact that our flight was cancelled due to a big time blizzard, I would have ended up in Tulsa smelling like burnt hair and Tabasco. Lucky for me our trip was cut short and I was able to return to The Biz for a fresh set of clothes.

Since we didn’t go to Tulsa like we were supposed to, we ended up going to Buck’s again, but not the Buck’s I know. Turns out there is also a Bucks in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Who knows how many of these places exist out there? I certainly did not know this place was a coddamn chain, that’s for sure. Anyways, when we got there, for some reason, I was really feelin it. I must be turning real North Dakota these days, but I was having a good time and at the same time thinking “Mann our Buck’s is way better.” That’s right, OUR Buck’s. Us North Dakotan’s haha. So I’m in this place and they don’t play one rap song the whole time, the closest they get is “Fergilicious”. For some reason I am not bothered. I’m kind of feelin the country. There are the old favorites “What hurts the most”, “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy”, and “We’re Comin to Your City”. It’s safe to say that I know the words to these songs right now and if I’m really feelin myself, you might catch me singing them like everyone else there. But this night there were new songs. I’m talkin to my teammates and I hear “Billy’s got his beer goggles on!” I kind of perk up. No way is there a beer goggle song, no way. But oh yes, it is true and I love it. I start listening to the words:
   Awww Yah!
   Billy’s at the bar, he’s been there all night
   First ten beers he’s had, since her goodbye
   HEY! HEY!

   She left him broke, in his new truck
   He don’t smoke, but he lights one up
   Temporary fix, for his heartache
   He’s hurting bad, but he’s feeling great

   He’s on the dance floor yelling Freebird
   Singing off pitch but he knows every word
   Grabs him a girl and he holds on tight
   He’s chasing everything in sight
   He’ll fall apart when he gets home
   But right now his worries are gone
   Life looks good, good, good
   Billy’s got his beer goggles on
   Hey!
Could there be a better song ever in the history of songs? No, I can’t C-Walk to this nonsense, but I tell ya what, I don’t know a guy who can’t relate. Hooray for you, Country Music, hooray. So now I’m alertly listening to every word of every song and they are all appealing to me for some reason. “I play chicken with the train” catches my ear.

hugg a lugga [3x],
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 dont know what any of that means. I don’t know what CMA’s are nor do I know one Tim McGraw song, but I’ll tell you what, it made me wanna play chicken with some trains. It’s pretty safe to say I had a great time that night. I guess I must’ve bought into the lifestyle somewhere along the way.

Back at Buck’s in North Dakota a week later, I was having a good time once again. This time they were playing all the hip hop hits so Renaldo, Corey, Chris, and I had a dance off. Renaldo started it off with a head bobblin, leg wigglin thing that was very “first round”. He was obviously saving his better material for latter rounds. Corey comes out and does the same. Chris hits us with a little tootsie roll action. Hands on knees swaying back and forth, a very solid first round effort. I want all the marbles right away, I wanna end this thing in round one. I do my patented “Baseball” dance. I bring the bat back and get into my stance at the plate (all to the beat of the song mind you). I look the invisible pitcher straight in the eye, as if to say “bring it.” The invisible pitch comes and I swing my bat to the rhythm of the song, and connect with the ball. I put my hand over my forehead to shield my eyes from the sun and watch the ball go over the fence. I trot the bases (still in rhythm) in place and jump up to stomp home plate. I feel like this is game over for this dance contest. Right then Renaldo starts round two with his “football” dance. He gets low beneath the center and takes the snap. He does a 3 step drop and surveys the defense. He pump fakes left, then shifts his feet and throws right. Right then I see Corey running a coddamn post route through the other dancers. He catches the pass and spikes the ball. Renaldo does he own touchdown dance. Chris’ turn. Chris gauges his reel, then casts his bait far into the lake. It looks like he’s caught something. His “fishing” dance looks solid. He reels in his catch, right on beat, and displays his prize catch. Although I only did one dance, I felt as though this competition was over because I couldn’t think of another good sport to dance to. Renaldo claims that he is the champion, but I disagree because he took the sports theme from me and if Corey hadn’t gone long, it would have just been average. It was a solo competition, not a tandem dance off. Just another night out in Bismarck. I think I’ll go to “Bistro” tonight, which is one of my coaches recommended spots. Who knows? Maybe I’ll engage in a great conversation about how, now that the snow has melted, I realize that there was grass underneath all along. It could happen.

Trouble w Being Tall 2

Rod Benson — 2007-02-19T10:41:27-08:00

You wanna what else sucks if you’re tall? I’ll tell you... it’s kind of obvious, but it’s airplanes. So much about them is just retarded. Seriously, the airlines must think that anyone over 6’5” is just not allowed to fly. Considering that I have flown pretty much weekly for the last 5 years, I pretty much know exactly how to make a flight “comfortable” against all odds. However there are still certain things that will always be all bad.

Being tall has disadvantages as soon as you enter the airport. First thing, you gotta go through security. Don’t you dare worry about handing/showing your boarding pass while walking through the X-Ray machine or Whammy! Chances are good you’ll hit your head like I did.

The actual plane ride depends on which airline you fly. Being from San Diego, I am very used to Southwest. What used to be great about southwest was the fact that they let you board early if you were tall. Southwest is the only airline with “chose your own” seating anyways, and on every single southwest plane, there is a seat in the exit row with no seat in front of it. It’s pretty much the only seat I sit in. Since Southwest changed their policies, I can’t get this seat anymore unless I get an “A” card and get there first...nearly impossible. Now, sometimes there are jackasses and 4’11” in fat women who take this seat. I literally make it a point to stare at that person long enough to make them realize that they are a joke for taking it. True story, one time when I was a freshman at CAL, I boarded the plane, early, and there was a small asian woman in the seat next to “my” seat. No, she wasn’t in it, just next to it. I didn’t know how she got on early, but I didn’t care...it was “my” seat anyways. I went and started to sit in it. She taps me and says “that’s my husbands seat.” I was preparing my intimidating stare as I asked “Whos?” I hear is a deep, but raspy and somewhat recognizable voice. I turn around in full stare mode and Bill Walton is standing right behind me, waiting to sit down. It’s been almost 5 years since then, but I remember for some reason, he was kind of mean about it. It wasn’t just a “me”, it was more of a “me”. I’m pretty sure he thought I was retarded for not recognizing him earlier or realizing that he had the shortest wife on the plane. Either way, my teammates definitely made fun of me. “You got punked by Bill Walton. Throw it DOWN big man, throw it DOWN!”

I digress. So Southwest has that seat, and the the normal exit row and that’s it. I now live in North Dakota, meaning that most planes that come in and out are little tiny prop planes and whatnot. This is a whole different story. For starters, there are seat reservations, so if an exit aint open, I might as well fagitaboutit. Once I sit, there is literally no way I can fit my legs behind the chair in front of me if someone is sitting next to me, so I’m forced to turn out into the aisle.

That’s my legs completely in the aisle. This sucks because the attendants need to wheel their snacks and beverages up and down the aisle, basically running my feet over every single time. I can’t fall asleep because of all the bumping and moving that goes on in that aisle. I’m 6’10”, James Maye is only 6’7” and he has it bad too:

So it’s terribly uncomfortable the whole ride. No doubt about that. So let’s say I have to use the bathroom...suchhh a joke. Let’s assume that during my lifetime, I may get with a supermodel, and I might have a threesome, but I will never, ever, join the mile high club, no way. The bathroom is for some reason like half the height of the rest of the plane with less space than my seat. Here’s me squeezing into the bathroom:

If the plane hits some turbulence? If I slip even a little? If I try to reach the “flush” button that is usually somewhere around my knees? ALL BAD! Well I guess that’s just how it goes when you’re tall. I know that every time I leave the bathroom, the attendants kinda stare at me like “Wow, how does that work?” It’s kind of like passing a test that you didn’t study for -- every time. Each time I go in there I feel like I’m gonna fail, then my instinct takes over. It actually really bothers me that I’ll never be a mile high guy unless I get a G4 jet or something. Tough times for tall people...tough times. Well, until next time...holla! Oh and lemme kno if you wanna kno about a certain tall situation and maybe I’ll add it...

Hollywood

Rod Benson — 2007-02-10T10:35:58-08:00

It really feels good to be back in California right now. It’s 66 degrees (I used to think that was a little cold), there are beautiful women, and there are things to do...a lot of things. We got in on Friday to play the Anaheim Arsenal on Saturday so it was pretty much official that I’d have to go out friday night to have any chance of offsetting the weeks of boredom spent in Bismarck. Seriously, I honestly, really, spent Tuesday - Friday sitting at the dining room table, eating Hamburger Helper (lasagna flavor of course), wearing nothing but boxers and a comforter, hitting “refresh” on my myspace home page. If that doesn’t sound lame to you, I don’t know what does, but I digress. Everyone was going out and taking advantage of the change of scenery. I had my whole entourage in town so I went out with them. To be more specific, there was Rell, JGANT, Renee, Christina, Alex, Mario, and Becca.

Some interesting notes about our night at the club:

Rell:
My boy Rell is a real lightweight when it comes to his drinks. He makes these faces every time he consumes alcohol like his appendix just burst because he can’t stand the taste. He will literally take a shot, wait ten seconds, and then say “mann, Im kinda feelin it.” Anyways, before we left for “AREA”, I had filled up my cup from In ‘N Out with 3/4 Vodka and 1/4 Coke, but didn’t tell anyone. I pressured Rell into taking a shot even though he wanted to wait a little bit. No joke, I poured him a triple shot, maybe a quadruple and basically just harassed him into taking it. His only request was that I give him a chaser. “I have some Coke,” I said. He grabs the “Coke” and sets it on the counter next to him. I count down “3, 2, 1!” He takes the super shot kinda slowly because he knows how much it is, then lunges for the “Coke” and throws it down his throat like Napoleon Dynamite drinks his Gatorade after practicing dance moves. I swear it was one of the funniest moments of all time as his mind tells him that the shot has been chased, but his throat and mouth ring like there’s a three alarm fire in his asophogous. He basically runs around the kitchen screaming for a real chaser. He yells at Mario “What’s in here?!” Mario says “Lemonade.” Rell yanks Mario’s cup from his hands and begins to chug, “--and vodka.” Mario says. Rell flips out because he has probably just swallowed about 8 shots in 12 seconds. He runs to the sink and spits out whatever is left in hist mouth as the rest of us in the kitchen are just laughing at the top of our lungs. Here’s Rell snatching some real orange juice from Alex’s hands:

It’s blurry because I was laughing so hard, but you can basically see the look on his face -- so much pain and shame in those eyes. As you could guess, that drink melee really got to him. How bad did it get to him? Take a look:

As you can see, he’s not in this photo. That’s not important here is that I don’t know this girl. In fact, the only reason I have this photo is because as soon as I walked into club AREA, no joke, this girl walked right up to me and asked “Are you famous?” and wanted to take a pic with me (Hollywood, what a place). But anyways Rell, literally kicked this girl in the head...twice. He said he was trying to see if he could kick his leg over her head. He was unsuccessful so he tried again. I stood there and watched his foot kind of bobble between her neck and shoulder and she screamed in disgust. But he didn’t stop there, no, this is “One Shot Rell.” 8 shots take it a little further:

Yea, that’s him alright. Shirt up, pants down. I question myself as to why I took this photo, but then I remember that I took it for you. In his defense, this used to be our signature move. We would take our pants down for a song or two back at Berkeley house parties. But now, at a big time club, in our grown man gear? No way was I even thinking about it.
You can see all the wacky photos from the night in the Photo section.

So I had a great time that night but I had to get to work the next day as we had a game. Oh yea I only grabbed 21 rebounds on em holla at ur boy! Wow It must have been all the beautiful women and warm weather or somethin because I havent gotten that many boards since high school. It was also cool because about 15 people came to watch me play. It’s always nice to have friends and family come out and support me.

I mentioned it earlier, but I need to revisit the “Are you famous?” line. Hollywood is pretty much the only place where a question like this could really be asked. Yea, she got kicked in the head later that night, but still she could ask it. It’s because in Hollywood there are two types of people: people who are somebody and people who pretend to be somebody. Either way, someone like me is a lot better physically equipped to handle such situations being that I’m 6’10”. In a club like “AREA”, there are always big time people doing big time things. It basically costs you $1000 just to sit down at a table so you if you see someone sitting, expect that they are big time (or just fronting and going broke until the 15th of the month).

In Hollywood you tend to see a lot of interesting things. Like imagine you’re on the freeway, half asleep, and you see a Chevy Aveo pass you by. In North Dakota I wouldn’t even think twice because Aveo’s are some of the lamest cars ever made, especially since the only way I would fit inside of one would be to remove the drivers seat and drive from the back seat. But in Hollywood, the land of people who do too much, you might look twice at this Aveo:

Yea, in case you can’t see it right or you think you’re trippin, that really does read “Da Baddest Bitch” right there on the back of the car. It really reminds me of a bad myspace display name. This is the exact type of girl who will one day see my page and message me with “u lukk gud git wit the da baddest b holla bakk” or something retarded like that. She basically just publicly identified herself not only as “da baddest bitch,” but also as a walking billboard for the new book “How to Look Like a Dummy -- for Dummies.”

Well despite the lack of common sense amongst some people, I still love my SoCal. I can’t wait to come back down here in April after my season’s over. Thanks to all those who came out and watched me (Renee, Alex, Branden, Mario, JGant, Becca, Rell, Christina, Mom, Terrance, Keelon, Sjondron, THE Stacy D, and Tila). You guys just remember that when I go back to Bismarck and I’m refreshing my Myspace and lowering the temperate from “Boiling” to a low “Simmer” as directed by my hamburger helper box, that you are in my thoughts.

The Trouble with Being Tall

Rod Benson — 2007-02-08T10:32:48-08:00

I am consistently asked how tall I am. What usually follows is some mention of how cool it is to be tall or how the person wishes they could be tall too. I must admit that it is pretty great, but there are times when being tall isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’ve decided to highlight those times so that you realize that sometimes it’s just not as easy as you think.

In this particular blog we look at the “public bathroom.”

Im sure none of you ever thought about what it takes for a successful trip to a public bathroom when you’re 6’10”. The answer is really not that much, but it’s still hella awkward. For example: the urinals are all just a little too low. Think about any public bathroom you’ve ever been in. If it was a big one then chances are that there was that urinal that’s about a foot lower than the rest that’s made for little kids or whoever. Now imagine that they’re all like that. 5 urinals that are all too low...now you have to CONCENTRATE. One lapse in concentration may lead to wet shoes and floor, or worse yet, wetness on the shoes of your neighbor which is never cool.

As you can see in the photo above, these are two standard urinals, yet my belt-line is as high as the flusher, meaning that serious knee bend and/or downward pointing is necessary.

The urinals are only half of the story. The stalls happen to pose an even bigger problem. The idea with stalls is that they are designed to limit the visibility of two people in neighboring toilets. All your really supposed to see is the boxer-pants-shoes pile that covers the ankles of the person next to you. The average person can basically do whatever they want once they close that stall door because they essentially disappear. I, on the other hand, am visible the whole time until I sit down. It never feels comfortable staring at some guy washing his hands as im getting situated in the stall. What if its a hot day and I want to take my shirt off? What if I smell the place up real bad and I want to kind of escape without being seen? Impossible. My whole head and shoulders are above the stall level.

In this photo, taken at my eye level, I see right over the stall with ease.

Now imagine you just wanna piss at the urinal on the left and then there’s me in the stall next to you, I can clearly see you and I’m changing my shirt -- awkward. The only time that it was ever cool to see over a stall was when I was 17 and I lived in Co-Ed dorms with Co-Ed showers. Now it’s just a joke.

So that concludes this edition of “The Trouble With Being Tall”. Look out for more editions soon because there’s so many normal things for you that are just awkward for us.

Funny MySpace Messages 5

Rod Benson — 2007-01-26T10:30:44-08:00

I think I should just accept the fact that 15 year old girls will send me messages. I used to get all mad, but ahh what the heck...I guess at the end of the day it’s a compliment...right? Hahahah Psych! Yea right. These little girls really, really, think that I’ll respond to them. Im 22 years old! Why in the world would I respond to you? Take this young lady for example:

She sent me this:
you should get me tickets to ur next game!?!?!?!

First of all, she lives in like Ohio or something so how in the world would I give her tickets? Secondly, is this a question or a statement? And why the heck is she so damn excited? Well I guess it only makes sense seeing how she hasn’t even had 10th grade english yet. This was on her profile:

“Hey people my name is Sam im a Sophmore at hillsboro high school. I did cheerleading but i hated it and i will never do it again. Mikee aguliar and aly tarpley are my bwest friends. And Gordo is my body guard so dont try to mess with me!!”

She wants tickets and here’s what I know about her: She hates cheerleading, she is 14 or 15, and she has people who she refers to as “bwest” friends. No tickets for u lil bebe...

The fact of the matter is it could always get worse...like this girl:

Its the girl on the right... 15 years old. Her display name, literally is “WHY U HATE ME BECAUSE MAN WIFE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” me: What the heck does that mean? The only thing I hated right off the bat was her damn display name. Heres what she sent me:

hay
Body:    hay wats poppin

Hayy? Nothins poppin cuz ur 10 years too young and 100 lbs too heavy lil bebe.

no
Body:    u don't me but hay

I dont you but hay. I...dont you.... but hay. That’s interesting. I think I should send her a message back..It would read “Normally do meet frut.” I dont even know what that means but I bet she could gather some meaning from it. Notice the subject of the message..”no”. Was that supposed to be in between “dont” and “me”? Is she actually smarter than what Im giving her credit for and she is trying to determine if I can figure out her code? I decided to check out her page to see what she has to say...
“
WUZ GOOD THIS CRYSTAL WHITE WATS UP MYSPACE IM 15YEARS OLD I ATTEND SCEP IM DARK SKIN AND SEXY WITH A BIG BOTTY THEY MRS. NEW BOTTY OK DONT HATE I WOULD LIKE TO GIVE A SHUT OUT TO CHRISTEN AND ALL THE PEOPLE OUT THE PARK R.I.P RICEHEAD OK IM 5"0 AND IF I NIGGA WANNA THUMP LETS GET THEN FOR REAL OK HATEZ AND BITCHES SO GET MY DICK BITCHES MAYBE ONE DAY YOUR MAN WANT TO HOLLA AT ME YOOO ILL BE 15 ON MY B-DAY 11/10/06 “

I dont even have to comment on this. She speaks for herself. I only want to know why she read my well written profile and thought that I, display name “Renaissance Man”, would ever go for her 15 yr old self...

Still, this girl was not nearly as bad as her Russian peer. Now I since I get a lot of messages on myspace, I have a very quick way of going about them. I will click on the profile of the sender first, and if they are underage or gay or whatever then I almost instantly disregard whatever they have to say. It sucks for this 16 year old Russian girl who seemed to want a chance, badly:

See how young see looks? Here’s the message she sent me:

hi !
Body:    im sasha . im from russia . i play tennis for 9 years and i wanna go to usa to the university !!!!! u r very cute . how r u ??? do u wanna chat ?

Well as you can tell she is very excited!!!!! Anyways I do my usual routine and check the age and of course shes 16 so obviously I DONT WANT TO CHAT so I dont respond. Of course I get this message later that day:

hey !
wuts up ??

Not a bad message right? The content isnt really important what’s important here is that she sent me another message unprompted. Oh well, I laughed a little and let it go.

hey !
Body:    hey !!! how r u ?? what r u doing ?? how was ur day ???

Ignore the fact that my day is none of her young business and her overuse of “!!!!” and “???” and focus on the fact that I still havent responded and she is now writing me asking me questions like we know each other or something. My day is none of ur bidness little lady! SO now Im like pllleeaaassseee dont let my “New Messages” have anything to do with her...pleeaaassseee. My pleads were a failure...

hi !
Body:    how r u ? how was ur day ?? why u dont u answer ??

-----------------------------------

hi!
Body:    pliz answer !!!!!!
how r u ??
do u have msn ??

-----------------------------------

No Subject
Body:    hi ! i wanna do to the bercley . wut i need to do ???

-----------------------------------

hi ! whats up ?? how r u ??
give me ur URL ??

-----------------------------------

hey !
Body:    whats up ?? give me ur website !!!!pliz
ur so cute !!!

This girl is so ridiculous I might a message from her today. She is the exact reason why I DONT have my website listed on my myspace page because she would go on there and see how bad Im making fun of her. Maybe if she wasnt CRAZY it wouldnt be such an issue.. Watch, Ill end up playing over seas and she’ll find me and stalk me for years...I can see it now...

Some people just love to keep sending messages despite a lack of return message from me. It only gets worse when it’s a man!

He actually just sent me another message today...But Ill start from the top:

THANKS NIGGA FOR THE ADD WHATS GOOD WITH YOU I HAVE SOME PICS YOU CAN SEE

Huh? You have some pics I can see? Why would I wanna see your pics? Im a grown man...ur a grown man...what would lend you to think I wanna see your pics? Well that wasnt the end of it:

WHATS GOOD NIGGA WHAT DO YOU DO FOR FUN

WHATS GOOD NOGGA

JUST SHOWING SOME LOVE

WHATS GOOD NIGGA

Wow, 3 messages son? What do I do for fun? Youre really taking this thing too far especially considering I HAVENT RESPONDED TO ANY OF YOUR NONSENSE! I thought he was done...but nope, I get a “Request to Approve Image Comment” thing. I wonder what comment is waiting for me? Its from him again. He has commented on the photo of me with my shirt off:

Nice Pic

You just dont make comments like that homie! Mann. I KNOW it’s a nice pic...I mean its me...with my shirt off...it’s awesome. I mean Im not big, but Ive got some pretty good definition...anyways the point is I dont NEED HIM TELLING ME THAT
I swear this guy must have told his boyfriend about me or something cause now I have this guy

sending me stuff.

How rude would I be?
Body:    1. If I told you that the picture where you are a giant is like a fantasy one!
2. If I ask what's your shoe size?

WOW GUY! Youd actually be really really ridiculously rude! In case you dont know what picture hes referring to, Ill show you:

SO when he says this is a fantasy to him I have to cringe in disgust. Its not even meant to be fantasy to women its simply a funny pic from Italy. Now this guy has gone and tarnished my good name over it! And then he wants to ask me my shoe size? TRIPPPPPPPIN! Take another look at this fantasy man...

Of course thats you. Of course.

Ill end this little edition of myspace messages with probably the craziest girl of all time. Now I wish I could show you everything that was involved in this ordeal but I cant because I accidentally deleted the over 50 instant messages she sent me. Thats right 50! As you may or may not know, I list my screen name on my myspace. I suppose I should stop by now, but Im too lazy. Anyways this girl got my screen name and proceeded to send me a message. i dont remember what I said because, like I said, I deleted the messages. Well let me tell you how things usually go. I get a random instant message, I say “who is this?” They usually answer “you dont know me but I saw you on mysapce.” Then I say “What’s your page URL?” Then they give it to me, I check out their page and if they are just blatantly ugly, I dont say another word. Hahahah it’s a little rude but I just dont care. Anyways, when it came time to check this girls profile, I immediately stopped talking:

Its the girl on the right. The point is, I didnt say another word. This girl proceeded to continue to IM me for HOURS. I didnt respond once. I left the room and came back and there were still more and more messages. “please talk to me” “what are you doing?” “If you dont wanna talk just tell me”, but I refused to answer any of them. Not one. I finally log onto my myspace and boom there she is with this message:

hey baby

you don't want to talk to me on aim? im hurt.

holla back baby!

chelsea

This message is after two hours of unreturned IMs!

this is why YOUR hot, this is y YOUR hot! mmmmmm hottie!

This is why your insane!

i love ur smile!

So this is girl is just an all around trip then. If I had all the messages it would help a lot for effect. Just know that shes out there, somewhere, still being crazy.

Before I go I’ll leave you with a little treat.

hey peanut remember me haha

The girl who sent this was on part 3. If you dont remember, shes the one whos friend has fungus on her toe:

Absol

Bismarck, North Dakota

Rod Benson — 2007-01-22T10:28:56-08:00

As you know, or dont know, I live in Bismarck. I just got off the phone with my boy Future who didnt know I was here yet. When I told him I was out here he said “Mann I dont even know what to say to that. It’s like you just told me you moved out to the moon or something.” I can understand his sentiments because I feel like I moved to the moon. It’s a crazy lifestyle to just up and go from Austin, to LA, to Bismarck in a matter of 7 days, but I did it. Anyways, Im gonna lay a few things out there so you get a good idea of what “the moon” is really like:

1. Its cold. When I got in everyone was like “youre gonna freeze man, you dont have a jacket?” And I would always answer “No, I dont have a jacket, but Ill only be outside for a few seconds anyways so it really doesnt matter. WRONG. No, I wasnt wrong about the few seconds part, but even in a few seconds, the coldness can just overtake you. I left LA and it was 82 degrees. When I got into Bismarck it was 14 below zero. Thats a 96 degree difference right there. Every breath I take out here my lungs feel like a rusty bike chain....STRUGGLIN! I had to walk to Carl’s JR. It started out as a walk, but I was soon jogging so that I wouldnt get stuck in place. When I was coming back my hand froze itself to the cup of my sprite. There were 6 consecutive days of 20 under or colder. Yesterday it was 1. If that didnt make any sense to you it’s probably because you arent used to seeing 1 written as a temperature. It was 1 degree yesterday. And to be honest it felt soo0o0o warm outside. I felt like I was baked into an apple pie...warm and toasty out on the counter top and it was really only 1 outside. I invested in a new coat and a pari of gloves. Those two things, right now, are worth more to me than a baby is to Britney Spears. Anyways, I just wanted to reiterate that it’s cold. Oh, and they make me pump the gas cuz Im a rookie and the gloves make me cry tears of joy now.

2. Everything is real, real dirty. This is because there is so much snow. If this doesnt make sense to you, it didnt to me either. I guess when it snows, most cities that get alot of snow will immediately put salt on the roads to make sure that the cars can drive without sliding all over the place. Here, in Bismarck, they dont put salt on the snow, they put ground up coal from a local mine on the snow. This means that dirt is everywhere. The cars all look disgusting because of all the dirt that gets on them. The white snow looks like giant piles of dirt on the side of the road. It makes things look real ugly.

3. There is nothing to do here. Seriously. Ive said that before but I dont think I ever truly meant it from my heart like I do now. Ive asked about 15 people “what is there to do here?” And theyve all answered “nothing.” I made an oath with myself that I would discover what there is to do here - daytime, night time, whatever. Here is what Ive discovered after nearly 2 weeks here.
In the daytime there is a mall. The mall is really, really bootleg though. I was over here trying to upgrade my wardrobe (dress code) so Im lookin for Macy’s or Nordstrom mann even a Dillards or somethin. Theyve got some place called “Herberger’s.” When the guy told me that the only place to buy nice clothes was called Herbergers I tried to crack a little joke I said “Oh is that better than HISberger’s?” He was not amused. What was also not amusing was the lack or selection in that bad boy...and nothin for tall people whatsoever. There is a movie theatre...it has all the current movies. Then, umm thats about it.
Night time? Hmm well let me describe the nightlife to you. There is one bar. Those of you who know about Kip’s I want you to picture that. Now, you’ve got Kips (or whatever little college bar you used to go to that had dancing too), now take away the fact that all of your friends are there, add about 50% country music (Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy, and What Hurts the Most get ALOT of airtime), add the fact that smoking is ALLOWED and not only that but also that EVERYBODY does it, and last but not least imagine it closed at 1230. Thats our bar. It’s called Buck’s and it is pretty much exactly how you are probably picturing it. Now that may be your scene, but if you know me you know that thats not my style lil bebe. Let me describe our Saturday night(Jan 20th) for you. Im in dress code (as usual) real grown man fitted know what I mean and I walk into bucks. They are charging $3 tonight because there is some lame band playing on one side of the building..its usually free. I walk right towards the bar (to celebrate my 17 point, 9 rebound performance) and just begin to order. There are drunken fat woman kind of lingering near me, but I really try to focus on my drinks and not throw out any signals. One of the girls walks past me, then stops, and works her way back. She taps me on the shoulder and shes blowing the hell out of her cigarette. I turn the other way. She says “Dont you want to talk to me?” and I say “Naww, I dont want smoke to get into my blazer.” She then throws this back at me “Well you are in a BAR, Idiot, get over it,” and she walks away. Im now officially annoyed, but the alcohol is making forget about all that. I eventually head out to the dance area, but Im not trying to dance like I usually do because Im real dressed up. This one fat girl from last week who had asked me to dance sees me in the distance. Last week I lied to her and told her I would dance later - later never came. This week im trying to avoid her and just chill. I swear it seems like I turn my head for a second and when I turn back shes got her ass on me trynna break me off. I just start laughing because its really funny how she teleported fom the other size of a crowed room to right up on me undetected. 250 lbs of untrace-ability covers 50 feet in 2 seconds flat. So she asks me “Whats so funny?” and I reply “Nothing.” So Im literally just standing there while she had me up against the stage doin too much. Im laughin, my teammates are laughin, its just funny. Then it takes an even funnier twist. That first girl who called me an idiot has now gotten over it I guess cuz she walks past me and grabs my ass. I pretend not to notice so she does it again. I turn to her and shake my head...all of this is whilw the fat girl is still breakin me off. SO another fat girl across the room walks over and whispers in my ear “Do you want me to save you?” Im like forreal? HaHaha how is that saving me? Thats like wresting a grizzly bear instead of a rhino! SO now the girl who is still breakin me off asks me “Did she say she was gonna save you? Oh hell no!” I answer “Naww, Im just chillin.” Then all of about 15 seconds later, the “save me” girl comes up and grabs my hand and takes me away from girl one. Now her and her fat friend have me in “the sandwich” but it might as well be called a philly cheesesteak with how much meat and cheese was all over me. Im now just laughing my ass off...not dancing at all just moving away from the girls slowly. I finally break away only to have to girl who called me an idiot catch up with me. She complains that the place is too packed and says “Will you help me start a circle so we can do our dance moves?” I quickly, sharply reply “No.” She then asks my teammates the same question. They of course dont know how crazy she is and agree. Im tellin you man, she gets in the middle of this circle and starts going crazy. She then drops on the floor is moving all over the place with no rythm. The best way I could describe it would be....it’s like if you slipped on some ice and fell to the ground and then had a 10 minute long heart attack, an orgasm, and try to hold in a fart at the same time.

Thats her right after she got up off the floor....she would then go back down again...I had to get a photo of her. The security guards came to take her away cuz I guess word spread about how crazy she was. As they were dragging her away she starts screaming at the top of lungs “Help me save hip hop?! Let hip hop live! Let hip hop live!” If you think Im making this up you have no idea how serious I am. She really said this. So Im still laughing when this guy dancing on the stage all of a sudden falls off and lands on his back right on the dance floor...hard. He then lays theres for like 45 seconds or so...Notice how people didnt notice him and proceeded to spill drinks on his drunk ass....

That was just about my cue to leave. That, and the fact that the bar closes at 12:30! SO the only spot to go to at night closes its doors at 12:30 and now you go home and everyone on the west coast is just getting ready to head out. Wow. That’s Bismarck Nightlife right there. In a nutshell...

Funny MySpace Messages 4

Rod Benson — 2007-01-01T10:26:08-08:00

So Im thinking that November was national “Holla at a Fat Girl” month or somethin. Forreal I had an inordinate amount of ridiculous messages from the big girls this month. I guess they just love me. Like Kim:

She sent me a message that said:

WHATS UP HOW ARE YOU DOING TODAY HAPPY HOLLOWEEN TO YOU HAVE A GOOD ONE.

Then she sent me another a couple weeks later at like 5:50am:

WHATS UP HOW ARE YOU DOIN' EARLY THIS MORNIN'

Well it seems that for some reason, fat girls especially will mis-spell words or use bad grammar on purpose just because I’m black. Cmon now. Also, the beached whale routine doesnt quite work for me either:

Well beached whale aside, Kim wasnt all that bad compared to this girl:

So you look at this and think “hmm its just another fat girl, Rod.” And then I tell you that the caption under this photo said “Sometimes I think I am sexy.” Rrreeeeaaallllyyy? You think you look sexy in this photo girl? Cmon. Well anyways she sent me a message:

Whats up sexy

Well as you would guess, I didnt respond. But I guess on MySpace, when you read a message, the person who sent it can tell. So after she discovered that I read the message, she sent me another one:

you can read the message but not respond?

I replied: “Yep”
After that I went to her photos again for a better look.

There was this photo of her with “hip hugging” jeans on right next to this photo

The caption under the statue said “In oklahoma, these are everywhere.” I couldnt help but think how much she reminded me of a damn buffalo. Then I asked myself, did she really take her shirt off and put it on this thing?

Seemed like as soon as I got off her page, this girl had sent me a friend request:

Are you putting that pool que in your mouth? Is the chalk on your tongue? You cant be that disgusting, can you? Well I guess she wasnt done at the pool hall that night:

Well I was first concerned that her weight on the that poor pool table would lead to alot of firewood and a broken leg. I was then, also concerned because this photo had a comment underneath it from this guy:

What did his comment say? I’ll tell you. It said:
Nice pic ! It's sexy loving the hair and the mouth !Well you know the imagination can run wild

YOU CAN NOT BE SERIOUS GUY! Mann he is out there givin all black guys a bad name. All men for that matter. You looked at that picture of her and “the hair and the mouth” sent your imagination “run(ning) wild”? You are just a joke. My imagination ran wild too when I saw this. I couldnt get the walrus from the movie “50 First Dates” out of my head for some reason. You know, the one that throws up all over the girl. Hmm I wonder why. Sexy my ass. What is wrong with you man. I really hope she didnt believe you. Mann.

Well fat girls aside, this month was also unusal for another reason.

I got this message:

Wassup Pimp?

Its not a crazy message until you notice who it was from:

Im over here like dammit T-Pain is gay now. “Im in love with a stripper”? No, no, no. He’s in love with a MALE stripper.
So mann, the same coddamn day I get a message from this guy:

Look at the look on his face! He is so damn serious it looks like he is a gay rapist or some shit. It looks like he and a priest have been preying on young children all morning and he took a myspace break. Then he’s really gone have his pubes all poppin out like NOW hes desirable. Cmon now guy.

Here he goes again. Notice how he has taken the liberty of unbuckling his jeans so in case you didnt know, hes giving it up tonight! And why oh why must he be wearing 4 inch heels or whatever those blatantly feminine shoes on his feet are. As for his actual message:

I'm Alex 19 male in queens, NY and I wanted to say you look good in your pics. looking for friends on here and thought maybe we could be friends. let me know.

Oh yea? Word? What about my shit makes you think Im gay like that? Honestly! Did you not see the coddamn girls who post on my page? The “straight” denomination? Did you miss all of that somehow? You need to bring all that back and keep it to urself son.

Mann so this last guy simply sent me a friend request:

Hahaha this guy. Look at this little poster shot. It says “from the producers of “Bad Boys” and only on theatres. Well this guy is obviously gay. So what other photos did he have to help confrim?

Perfect. Simply perfect. The bright red bow tie with no shirt. The pulled down pants shot that he got from Alex above. He’s got the boot cut jeans which sit over his slippers with socks. What a guy here. So im like “how does a guy like this associate with?” Well the answer should not surprise you. Here are a couple people from his top 8:

Funniest part? The last guy had this as his “view more pics” right. And the caption said “look at those DSL's...oops i mean give Big Daddy a kiss”
Well that about wraps this up for now, but you know Ill be back with more. Holla at ur boy

Funny MySpace Messages 3

Rod Benson — 2007-01-01T10:21:26-08:00

Im just gonna dive right into this one. Now the first thing Ill show u isnt a message, persay, but when u have a photo like this person, u send alot more than any message ever could. Now the caption under this main photo read “Is this Sexy?” Ill let u be the judge:

Makes you wonder...Is my photo sexy enough to compete? Well Im not conceited but Im gonna have to say yes. I would rather look at a picture of elmo playing the piano than to look at this guy wearing nothing more then a perm and a bow-tie.

So we’re just gettin warmed up right now. That guy was simply a friend request which for some reason, I accepted. hahaha. But what about some of these messages. Like these two:

Hey Baby

...two days later

Hey Baby

I didnt reply to either message for a few reasons. For one, what the hell does “Hey Baby” mean to me? Absolutely nothin, it actually makes me mad cuz Im not your baby. I dont even kno you, so u can let that one go. Secondly, and probably most importantly, this is the person who sent it:

Now when I saw this photo I thought to myself “Man, or woman, man, or woman?” You really to focus on the fact that this “thing” called me baby. Bad for a woman, unacceptable from a male. My profile literally says 20 words, one of which is STRAIGHT. Well as it turns out this is a man, and his profile is the oddest shit ive ever seen. It definitely said he was gay, some random Madonna song was playin in the background, and in the midst of it all was this photo, which completely made me regret ever opening that message with no subject header that read “Hey Baby.”

you can check this guy out at
http://www.myspace.com/oll4you

OK OK Let it rain and clear it out. Clear it right the fuck out. Moving on...I still think the best is yet to come in this little expose, but I guess you all are the judge of that, so Ill toss this little number at you.

i just came across ur profile and thought i would say hi! u have a nice smile..

I know what ur thinking...there’s absolutely nothin wrong with this, which is true. That message is very respectful and whatnot. But like ive said before, you have to stay within societal rules, you just have to. Now, Im no Usher or Timberlake or even fuckin Marlon Wayans, but I think I look good enough to where girls like this, by default, should be out of my league. I wanna reiterate, Halle Berry = out of my leaguea, Angelina Jolie = out of my league, any girl with a Beyonce-esqe feature = probably out of my league. This girl however is a bit on the south side of the equation kno what I mean:

What I found to be particularly funny was the fact that her myspace name was “I WANNA BE THE GIRL YOU POINT TO AND SAY ‘THATS HER’”. Word? Forreal? I absolutely would do that. Id tap my homie on the shoulder after I see her from afar and say to him “Wow homie, thats her...Thats that NASTY chick from myspace who got at me!” Hahaha Im really not this cruel at all, but the whole “thats her” thing really got to me. You probably didnt even laugh at that, and you now think Im an asshole, well Im not, and lets see if you laugh at this:

Hey whats up? How u doing? Im aight about to go to bed sense im geting sick. Ur almost 7 ft tall damn, thanks for making me feel even more short. Lol anyways I just posted a new poem that I just wrote on a blog u should read it and let me know what u think. Holla back

Dre

So0o0o many things wrong with this. For starters, this girl uses the patented “Hold a conversation with herself” technique. She asks me how Im doing and then for some strange reason has the nerve to assume that I want to know how shes doin and whats up with her. Fuck that lil bebe. Wow youre gettin sick? Haha, you’re cool man! Lets be friends! How in the world do words on ur monitor screen make you feel short? Whatever, right? Wrong. It doesnt stop at this message with her. Take a look at her:

WOWOWOWOWOW! There you are huh? That would be you wouldnt it? Unbelievable. Corn Rows and a trucker hat turned sideways? How perfect. I felt bad for not payin attention to hey message. It now made alot more sense. She said she was sick and needed to go to bed. Of course! Someone gave her some shit that made her think she could go out and get cornrows, and then message me, she must be sick! Now shes takin herself to bed cuz she needs to come back down to reality. I have a feeling that you readers out there still arent gettin the most out of these messages so I saved what I thought to be the best for last. Im gonna go ahead and give u this girl’s photo first instead of after:

There she is. Not attractee to her, but I wouldnt call her ugly. She might make some guy real happy one day, but not me. Who knows maybe its this guy:

He seems to have that Buckwheat/ metrosexual/ I only listen to Bonnie Tyler, Carrie Underwood, and Clay Aiken type look to him. Maybe thats a good thing for her, maybe not. As for what she sent me:

soooo...i'm bored at work entertain me

I had a couple of options when I got this. First I could simply chuckle at the fact that this girl thought that it was MY responsibility to entertain her, at work no less. Second, I could walk away becuz it really wasnt funny at all. Or third, I could have a little fun, cuz why not? I opted for number 3 only becuz I knew you guys would appreciate it more than I would. So boom I responded back with this little tall tale:

thats neat. im studying podiatry. boring, but its my life

I thought to myself that if I just sounded as nerdy as possible (not remembering the fact that I do spend hours writing shit on a website I maintain) that she would just leave it alone, but I was wrong:

oooooh a doctor...will you marry me? haha just kidding my coworker has a fungus on her pinky toe can you help her?

Oh shit son, she actually bought it - in a good way - unbelievable! But no what the hell I just said what in her right mind would make her think its OK to tell me about her fuckin coworkers infected pinky toe? Bad to look at even worse to write out...whats wrong with this chick? I had to keep the fun rolling. I asked myself what would be the most ridiculous, yet believable thing I could say back? Boom:

sure. heres a little known fact about foot fungi: dipping the foot in a small buckets of half olive oil and half of any kind of dish soap will kill 95 percent of them. She could try that if she doesnt want to spend too much time with a horrible fungus

Hahahahhaa absofuckinlutely perfect. I felt like I wrote it in a way where, if she truly believed I was a doctor, she had no choice but to take it seriously. Question was, did it work? Well:

Oh extra smart now are we? I'm an athlete and i heard if you pee on your feet in the shower it kills bacteria is that true?

Hmm. This was a tough one. Did she believe it and wanted to know more or was it just a test to see if I really knew my stuff? I didnt wanna take any chances and mess this up, so I wikipediad that shit and turns out she was right...urine does kill shit. Coddamn, Im a foot doctor and I didnt know that, I guess you learn somethin new everyday. So I hit her back with this:

yes thats true

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_urine

I figured that if I hit her with that she would lay to rest any possible doubts if she hadnt already believed me. So I got this back:

so youre gonna be a doctor?

Right then and there I realized that she had been putty in my hands since this MySpace message fest started 3 hours earlier. She was probably at work, thinkin she had bagged her a doctor, her friend chillin with her foot in a vat of the nastiest slimiest shit of all time hoping that it would cure her foot fungus when it probably was making that shit smellier and nastier. I had won. What a feeling that was sitting there satisfied that I had somehow accomplished so much with only my mind, fingertips and MacBook. Well I had to finish it off right so I capped off my glorious run with this:

no, i just stayed in a holiday inn express last night

How clever of me. Well that about does it for this installment of funny myspace messages. Until next time lil bebe. Holla. Let it rain, and wash it out.