I'll Get You Sooner or Later
December/30/2007 02:27 PM Filed in: Random
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.
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.
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Best of the Worst
December/30/2007 02:26 PM Filed in: Random
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.
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
December/17/2007 02:22 PM Filed in: Poems
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.
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
December/17/2007 02:19 PM Filed in: Random
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 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
December/11/2007 02:18 PM Filed in: Random
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.
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
December/07/2007 02:04 PM Filed in: Random
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.
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
December/02/2007 01:56 PM Filed in: Poems
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.
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
December/01/2007 01:54 PM Filed in: Random
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.
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?
November/29/2007 01:51 PM Filed in: Dakota
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!
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
November/15/2007 01:49 PM Filed in: Poems
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.
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
November/08/2007 01:45 PM Filed in: Random
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!
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!
October/30/2007 01:39 PM Filed in: MySpace Messages
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.
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
October/29/2007 01:36 PM Filed in: Dakota
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 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"
October/22/2007 01:33 PM Filed in: Hoops
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.
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
October/11/2007 12:58 PM Filed in: Random
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...
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)
October/10/2007 12:56 PM Filed in: MySpace Messages
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"
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)
October/01/2007 12:55 PM Filed in: Hoops
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?
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
September/16/2007 12:53 PM Filed in: Poems
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.
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'
September/10/2007 12:51 PM Filed in: Hoops
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 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
September/06/2007 12:48 PM Filed in: MySpace Messages
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.
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.
August/29/2007 12:46 PM Filed in: Random
This past saturday I was out at Slide (upscale San Francisco nightclub) with JGant, Clay, and Cedric. The thing about Slide is that it's a lot like L.A. clubs. Tight women basically can just walk right in, while women who the bouncers think aren't good enough to walk right in and all men without a VIP table have to wait out side. Even then, men can't get in unless they have at least 50% women in their group. Well, Clay and I were on the list, so we didn't have to worry about female accompaniment. JGant and Cedric were on their own to find some womens to help them get into the club.
JGant was the only one drinking that night so it was no surprise when we walked back up with the only 3 girls in line that I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Then again, he had to make his way in somehow. Right before we got in, 3 other girls that I wouldn't call terrible, butI also wouldn't call the cream of the crop walked by and said "Look at those guys," clearly talking about JGant and myself.
Cedric, Me, and JGant at Slide
I disregarded all six of the women and made my way inside. As usual, there was a lot of talent in there. I'm telling you, in S.F. you can't get more eye candy than slide. As my eyes were making their way around the room, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned around and saw that it was that same group of girls who were looking at us outside. Like I said, they weren't terrible, but I mean, I really wasn't interested.
One of them yelled over the music "Why don't you loosen up and dance?"
I, having a complete understanding of club speak, replied "Umm well, I need to drink before I can dance, sorry."
See, in club speak, that translates to "I'm trying to be nice, but I'm just not interested in dancing with you." Everybody knows this. I mean, maybe some people persist beyond that point, but it's rare. These girls were that rare case. They continued to ask me to dance and to loosen up. Finally, I walked over to Clay who was at the bar and I said "Clay I am only speaking to you so that these girls will think I'm giving you a drink order and then leave me alone. What is gonna happen is, when you get your drink, we are gonna walk to the other side of the club and avoid them."
When Clay got his drink, I quickly grabbed JGant and Cedric and we went to the other side of the building. The girls followed. Dammit. JGant and I had already started dancing, so I couldn't use the "I need my drink" line again. When JGant and I get going, we command the attention of the whole room, so it would be tough to get these girls to leave now. They all surrounded me and started trying to get me to dance with them. No way was I gonna honor their request. Within a 5 foot radius of me there were plenty of girls worth dancing with who would see this exchange and assume that I was with one of them. I couldn't let that happen.
Somewhere along the way, they scouted that JGant was drunk. I mean he was just wasted. I don't know how this happened, it didn't look like he drank that much. Either way, the girls now had two targets: me and JGant. JGant started breaking them off one by one. Honestly, I couldn't believe he was really going at them this hard. I know he has higher aspirations for a place like Slide, but at the end of the day, it was just dancing so I wasn't concerned.
I wasn't concerned until I heard from Cedric that he and JGant had made a bet. $100 would go to the man who could take a girl home with him that night. I remember thinking "Oh no." With this bet in mind, JGant wouldn't pay any attention to the classy, attractive women in the building. He would focus his attention on those women who were ready like spaghetti, regardless of any other factors. Those women were already right in front of him. I realized that we had been there for maybe 45 minutes and that those 3 girls were still all surrounding him. I don't think he realized that they had cut him off from the rest of the group. I was still being nice to them because they were just doing them. Then they started taking hella pictures. Pictures of me.
When the photos started, I went from being nice to being angry. I went to the one with the camera and told her to stop taking pictures of me. She asked if I was somebody important and I told that I wasn't. Then she came at me with "Then why do you care?"
"Why do I care? It doesn't matter why I care. The point is, quit taking coddamn pictures. I don't need a reason." Mean? Maybe. Necessary? Absolutely.
I made another effort to relocate our group. Cedric and Clay went to the other side of the room, while I had to literally drag JGant away from these women. When we got to the other side of the room, I set JGant up to dance with a much better woman who was not ugly, or wasted, or taking photos of us. I swear I must have turned my head for a second when the other 3 girls were back, tugging at his shirt. He turned around and started dancing with them again. I quickly pulled him away and moved the group to the other side of the room again. These girls were killing our whole situation in that bad boy and they knew it. They were standing around us like we all came in together.
The followed us again, and this time they put the full court press on JGant. The started grabbing him and rubbing him, slow dancing him and caressing him. I really think he had no idea what it looked like. It looked like they were raping him. They basically controlled his every move. We had been in there for almost 2 hours and they were still just making my man look bad. I made a couple more relocation attempts, but they kept following us. Worse yet, they kept taking pictures. I said to JGant: "Tell your girls to quit taking pictures of me or I will break that coddamn camera. No joke." He seemed to listen, but when he went to talk to them, it turned into him giving out lap dances.
It was time for us to leave JGant alone for a while and make our own moves. For about 30 minutes, clay and I made moves all over Slide, really just enjoying ourselves. When we came back to near where JGant was, one of the 3 girls was kissing some other black guy near the bar, another one was grinding up on someone else, and JGant was hugged up with the ugliest one against the wall.
Clay, Cedric and I had a quick meeting. Should we let JGant wake up the next day ashamed, disgusted, and possibly carrying Herpes? Or should we end this now, knowing that he would get mad, but thank us later. There was still about 20 more minutes of good time at Slide and he could make moves in that time no doubt. I concluded that I would make one last effort to get him away.
I walked up to JGant and told him to leave the girl behind. It was crazy because the other two girls left their partners to come back and stop JGant from leaving. He finally told them he had to go and began to walk away when the main girl grabbed his shirt and wouldn't let him get away. I think he was so drunk that he forgot that he was supposed to leave. He turned around and kept talking to them. I had seen enough. These girls were not playing fair.
I walked over to Cedric and told him to watch. I walked back over to JGant and socked him right in the balls, hard. He bent over and fell the the ground. The girls knew that his attention was diverted and they snapped at me.
"Oh my God that's so mean, why would you do that? That was so un-cool," the main one said.
"Hey, he's my friend. He can be mad at me if he wants, but I had to get him in the one place where he would stop thinking about you," I fired back.
Meanwhile, JGant was still on the ground holding his balls very gingerly. He got up and hobbled over to the bar, where he placed both hands on his knees and stayed bent over for a few minutes. I walked over to him and let him know he could hate me, but I had to do what I had to do. The girls were nowhere in sight so I finally felt like he could have a good time.
Once his little JGants recovered, he found a new set of women to entertain. I felt like a proud father who had steered his child away from drugs. I went on about my business and had my fun. Then I saw the 3 girls come back into view. They walked right up JGant and grabbed his hands. They actually grabbed him away from the new girls he was dancing with and walked him over to the bar.
This time I didn't hesitate. I walked right over there. I saw he was smiling at their words so I reared back and socked him in the balls again.
"You're an assh#le," one of the girls said as they made their way toward the exit and finally left. JGant stayed down much longer this time. He was clearly hurt. I leaned down towards JGant and said, just loud enough for him to hear me, "Better to have sore balls today, than to have Gonorrhea tomorrow."
I don't know if he recovered from that second punch that night. He also lost his phone. Im pretty sure I saw him crying 10 minutes later. But he probably just had something in both his eyes. He was over all of it an hour later, so we're cool.
A lot of craziness for my last bay area night out. I head to Jersey next week so it's time to make moves. I don't think I can sock anyone in the balls out there. Especially not twice.
JGant was the only one drinking that night so it was no surprise when we walked back up with the only 3 girls in line that I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Then again, he had to make his way in somehow. Right before we got in, 3 other girls that I wouldn't call terrible, butI also wouldn't call the cream of the crop walked by and said "Look at those guys," clearly talking about JGant and myself.
Cedric, Me, and JGant at Slide
I disregarded all six of the women and made my way inside. As usual, there was a lot of talent in there. I'm telling you, in S.F. you can't get more eye candy than slide. As my eyes were making their way around the room, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned around and saw that it was that same group of girls who were looking at us outside. Like I said, they weren't terrible, but I mean, I really wasn't interested.
One of them yelled over the music "Why don't you loosen up and dance?"
I, having a complete understanding of club speak, replied "Umm well, I need to drink before I can dance, sorry."
See, in club speak, that translates to "I'm trying to be nice, but I'm just not interested in dancing with you." Everybody knows this. I mean, maybe some people persist beyond that point, but it's rare. These girls were that rare case. They continued to ask me to dance and to loosen up. Finally, I walked over to Clay who was at the bar and I said "Clay I am only speaking to you so that these girls will think I'm giving you a drink order and then leave me alone. What is gonna happen is, when you get your drink, we are gonna walk to the other side of the club and avoid them."
When Clay got his drink, I quickly grabbed JGant and Cedric and we went to the other side of the building. The girls followed. Dammit. JGant and I had already started dancing, so I couldn't use the "I need my drink" line again. When JGant and I get going, we command the attention of the whole room, so it would be tough to get these girls to leave now. They all surrounded me and started trying to get me to dance with them. No way was I gonna honor their request. Within a 5 foot radius of me there were plenty of girls worth dancing with who would see this exchange and assume that I was with one of them. I couldn't let that happen.
Somewhere along the way, they scouted that JGant was drunk. I mean he was just wasted. I don't know how this happened, it didn't look like he drank that much. Either way, the girls now had two targets: me and JGant. JGant started breaking them off one by one. Honestly, I couldn't believe he was really going at them this hard. I know he has higher aspirations for a place like Slide, but at the end of the day, it was just dancing so I wasn't concerned.
I wasn't concerned until I heard from Cedric that he and JGant had made a bet. $100 would go to the man who could take a girl home with him that night. I remember thinking "Oh no." With this bet in mind, JGant wouldn't pay any attention to the classy, attractive women in the building. He would focus his attention on those women who were ready like spaghetti, regardless of any other factors. Those women were already right in front of him. I realized that we had been there for maybe 45 minutes and that those 3 girls were still all surrounding him. I don't think he realized that they had cut him off from the rest of the group. I was still being nice to them because they were just doing them. Then they started taking hella pictures. Pictures of me.
When the photos started, I went from being nice to being angry. I went to the one with the camera and told her to stop taking pictures of me. She asked if I was somebody important and I told that I wasn't. Then she came at me with "Then why do you care?"
"Why do I care? It doesn't matter why I care. The point is, quit taking coddamn pictures. I don't need a reason." Mean? Maybe. Necessary? Absolutely.
I made another effort to relocate our group. Cedric and Clay went to the other side of the room, while I had to literally drag JGant away from these women. When we got to the other side of the room, I set JGant up to dance with a much better woman who was not ugly, or wasted, or taking photos of us. I swear I must have turned my head for a second when the other 3 girls were back, tugging at his shirt. He turned around and started dancing with them again. I quickly pulled him away and moved the group to the other side of the room again. These girls were killing our whole situation in that bad boy and they knew it. They were standing around us like we all came in together.
The followed us again, and this time they put the full court press on JGant. The started grabbing him and rubbing him, slow dancing him and caressing him. I really think he had no idea what it looked like. It looked like they were raping him. They basically controlled his every move. We had been in there for almost 2 hours and they were still just making my man look bad. I made a couple more relocation attempts, but they kept following us. Worse yet, they kept taking pictures. I said to JGant: "Tell your girls to quit taking pictures of me or I will break that coddamn camera. No joke." He seemed to listen, but when he went to talk to them, it turned into him giving out lap dances.
It was time for us to leave JGant alone for a while and make our own moves. For about 30 minutes, clay and I made moves all over Slide, really just enjoying ourselves. When we came back to near where JGant was, one of the 3 girls was kissing some other black guy near the bar, another one was grinding up on someone else, and JGant was hugged up with the ugliest one against the wall.
Clay, Cedric and I had a quick meeting. Should we let JGant wake up the next day ashamed, disgusted, and possibly carrying Herpes? Or should we end this now, knowing that he would get mad, but thank us later. There was still about 20 more minutes of good time at Slide and he could make moves in that time no doubt. I concluded that I would make one last effort to get him away.
I walked up to JGant and told him to leave the girl behind. It was crazy because the other two girls left their partners to come back and stop JGant from leaving. He finally told them he had to go and began to walk away when the main girl grabbed his shirt and wouldn't let him get away. I think he was so drunk that he forgot that he was supposed to leave. He turned around and kept talking to them. I had seen enough. These girls were not playing fair.
I walked over to Cedric and told him to watch. I walked back over to JGant and socked him right in the balls, hard. He bent over and fell the the ground. The girls knew that his attention was diverted and they snapped at me.
"Oh my God that's so mean, why would you do that? That was so un-cool," the main one said.
"Hey, he's my friend. He can be mad at me if he wants, but I had to get him in the one place where he would stop thinking about you," I fired back.
Meanwhile, JGant was still on the ground holding his balls very gingerly. He got up and hobbled over to the bar, where he placed both hands on his knees and stayed bent over for a few minutes. I walked over to him and let him know he could hate me, but I had to do what I had to do. The girls were nowhere in sight so I finally felt like he could have a good time.
Once his little JGants recovered, he found a new set of women to entertain. I felt like a proud father who had steered his child away from drugs. I went on about my business and had my fun. Then I saw the 3 girls come back into view. They walked right up JGant and grabbed his hands. They actually grabbed him away from the new girls he was dancing with and walked him over to the bar.
This time I didn't hesitate. I walked right over there. I saw he was smiling at their words so I reared back and socked him in the balls again.
"You're an assh#le," one of the girls said as they made their way toward the exit and finally left. JGant stayed down much longer this time. He was clearly hurt. I leaned down towards JGant and said, just loud enough for him to hear me, "Better to have sore balls today, than to have Gonorrhea tomorrow."
I don't know if he recovered from that second punch that night. He also lost his phone. Im pretty sure I saw him crying 10 minutes later. But he probably just had something in both his eyes. He was over all of it an hour later, so we're cool.
A lot of craziness for my last bay area night out. I head to Jersey next week so it's time to make moves. I don't think I can sock anyone in the balls out there. Especially not twice.
Elaine Mooseman is Going Down!
August/29/2007 12:42 PM Filed in: Random
Where oh where has toomuchrodbenson.com gone? What happened? I tried to check for an update and there was no longer anything there.
I got emails saying all of that and more over the last few days. I didn't really have a good answer for anyone. I, like you, thought that this beautiful thing called toomuchrodbenson.com was dead. Since this has been spread by word of mouth and linkage, I figured the time had come when TMRB would be no more. Let me explain...
Back on July 15th of 2006, I started toomuchrodbenson.com when I bought the domain name from Godaddy.com. Those sexually charged commercials really got to me. Anyways, I had the domain for a year. When I changed hosts from Apple to IXhosting, I was told that I could move my domain name to IX web hosting services. I did this and got my cancellation notification from GoDaddy. Boom. Perfect. The new TMRB.com was up and running just fine for the last 6 weeks.
Well, not so perfect. I got an email from GoDaddy about 5 days ago. It basically said the same thing as the cancellation email I got on July 15th, 2007. I disregarded it. About an hour later (like 2 am), toomuchrodbenson.com was gone. I don't know where it went, it was just gone. It routed me to some GoDaddy error page. Confused, I decided I'd sleep on it and call GoDaddy in the morning.
I wake up and checked it out again, just to make sure. This time I was forwarded to Sedo Site Parking. Oh snap. My domain name was now parked. Parking basically means that whoever owns the domain makes money each time somebody attempts to access tmrb.com. Well, I was now really confused because I, Rod Benson, am the creator and owner of toomuchRODBENSON. How in the world could it get parked?
I called IXwebhosting and asked them why my site was not showing up. The guy on the phone asked "May I ask who is calling?"
I told him "Rod Benson. That's why it's call toomuchrodbenson, because that's me."
"Well, that's why I asked. It says here that the name toomuchrodbenson.com is owned by a woman named Elaine Mooseman. I can't tell you anything beyond that," he said.
I hung up the phone and whispered 5 words through my teeth: "Elaine Mooseman is going down."
I knew that my options were limited. What could I really do about this? I wasn't even entirely sure that I heard the name right. Elaine Mooseman? Why would she buy toomuchRODBENSON? I'm pretty sure that toomuchelainemooseman.com was available if she just wanted to be a copy cat. But no, she took the name I created years ago with my instant messenger screen name. I can still remember when I got the idea. I was watching the tape of Cal vs. Stanford hoops from my junior year, and I had just run off 12 straight points. As 11 and 12 fell through the net, the announcer said "It's just too much Rod Benson, too much number zero!"
Now Elaine Mooseman had it. Some woman, somewhere, knowingly or unknowingly had overtaken me in the 7 hours between when I fell asleep and when I woke up. I called up GoDaddy. They couldn't tell me anything because I didn't know my account number or the last 4 digits of the credit card I originally used to buy the domain. I mean coddamn, I lost my wallet like twice since then. It was then that I knew it was over. The dream was dead.
I began telling people what happened. Over the next couple of days, I had a few interesting conversations with people who were all shocked and appalled. One of my homies, Kelly, even said "Give it up. It's over. They got you."
I contemplated just using 2muchrodbenson.com, but then the whole word of mouth basis for this site would be dead. I got an IM from a friend of mine minutes after I looked into the 2much thing. For the sake of time, I'll post the conversation here. For the sake of children, I have edited it a bit:
Me: Mike:
2muchrodbenson.com
the new domain
what the hell
will be up later today
in process now
cant believe some breezy bought it
my word of mouth hype took a serious hit
coddamn, that's messed up
let's find out who bought it
we'll mess them up big time
by word of mouth
i know who bought it
its some woman named elaine mooseman
or something
i didnt get a spelling
do you have a location or anything?
nope
4:20 PM
well i'll talk to my boy. that's the biggest B.S. ever
4:25 PM
Elaine Moosman (address edited)
7*** H***** M*** C***
W**** J******, ** *****
United States
i think you should have people write her and tell you what they think
it could be the first entry on your new site
oh snap how did u find her
or did u just google the name
there are sites where you can get the info on who registers a domain
it doesnt show an email?
i bet we could find a phone number too
let me check
elaine******@msn.com
hahah forreal what page r u on?
where is this from
4:30 PM
my friend got it for me
mann wow
well time to send out the emails
hahaha
try and contact her first
ask her what the hell
yea im about to
i'll get you her phone number
(***) 566-4306
there you go
it's on like donkey kong
oh snap
im bought to call her right now
this is blog worthy
absolutely
dialing
haha hits like an old woman
voice mail tho
damn im not leaving a msg
damn
haha
4:35 PM
maybe she's at work, let's see if i can find any company info
hahah wow
i guess utah is like 530 right now
http://www.elaine-moosman-online.com/index.php
what the?
im gonna get screwed here
this does not seem like an old woman
4:40 PM
who is this guy, ur friend?
mann
you have a couple options, but it all starts with getting in touch with the b**ch
what are the options
a nice blog entry involving the public information. leave it up until you get your domain back.
let me think, there has to be something else you can do. it's totally screwed up
4:50 PM
damn this is crazy that i have all her info
this friend of urs is on another level
4:55 PM
did you send an email?
no
i have a phone number
blow up her home phone
5:00 PM
hell yeah
i just tried calling myself
hahaha
nice
just think, if all Rod Benson fans call the number...
at like 2am
hahaha
have like a call time
hahaha, that'd be f'ing great
break it into a couple groups
have a group call at 2am, another at 3:30, another at 4
i want to talk to her first
before i release the info
yeah, for sure
5:10 PM
i love your new away message (Elaine Mooseman is going down)
she is
i have a feeling she wont give it back
but i also have a feeling she has like 50 sites like mine
right. i'm on her site right now doing a contact us message about a different business matter that I made up. i can hopefully get some more info on her this way
hahah mannn
on my side!
5:15 PM
my name is Earl Garrick and I'm contacting them about web sales
hahah earl garrick
hahaha
Earl Garrick runs a website based on used auto parts
end of convo
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So after I finished talking to Mike, I called her up again. This time she answered. She definitely was an older woman.
"Hello," she said.
I got it started..."May I speak with Elaine please?"
"This is Elaine," she said again.
That's when I broke into it. I told her everything. I told her how I started toomuchrodbenson last year. I told her about how it has grown over that time. I told her that somehow I had lost it all for reasons unknown. I basically painted the picture of a sad, strange, broken man with nothing left except this domain name. The thing is, I was sad, I am strange, and toomuchrodbenson is all I have.
Elaine then explained to me that she is retired and that she makes her money these days buying domains that come recommended from domain appraisal services. She told me that my domain was appraised with a very high value. Kinda sweet. Then she said that she would give it back to me, no questions asked. I think her exact words were "Happy Birthday."
After a couple of hours of info switching, conference calls between myself, Elaine, and GoDaddy, toomuchrodbenson.com was mine once again. Elaine Mooseman is not going down. In fact, she went up big time in my book. If you ever run into her, sing her praises. Pay for her meal. Thank her for keeping the dream going baby. She knows whats up with boom tho.
Elaine, if you saw the title of this article, just know that you are definitely NOT going down.
The end.
I got emails saying all of that and more over the last few days. I didn't really have a good answer for anyone. I, like you, thought that this beautiful thing called toomuchrodbenson.com was dead. Since this has been spread by word of mouth and linkage, I figured the time had come when TMRB would be no more. Let me explain...
Back on July 15th of 2006, I started toomuchrodbenson.com when I bought the domain name from Godaddy.com. Those sexually charged commercials really got to me. Anyways, I had the domain for a year. When I changed hosts from Apple to IXhosting, I was told that I could move my domain name to IX web hosting services. I did this and got my cancellation notification from GoDaddy. Boom. Perfect. The new TMRB.com was up and running just fine for the last 6 weeks.
Well, not so perfect. I got an email from GoDaddy about 5 days ago. It basically said the same thing as the cancellation email I got on July 15th, 2007. I disregarded it. About an hour later (like 2 am), toomuchrodbenson.com was gone. I don't know where it went, it was just gone. It routed me to some GoDaddy error page. Confused, I decided I'd sleep on it and call GoDaddy in the morning.
I wake up and checked it out again, just to make sure. This time I was forwarded to Sedo Site Parking. Oh snap. My domain name was now parked. Parking basically means that whoever owns the domain makes money each time somebody attempts to access tmrb.com. Well, I was now really confused because I, Rod Benson, am the creator and owner of toomuchRODBENSON. How in the world could it get parked?
I called IXwebhosting and asked them why my site was not showing up. The guy on the phone asked "May I ask who is calling?"
I told him "Rod Benson. That's why it's call toomuchrodbenson, because that's me."
"Well, that's why I asked. It says here that the name toomuchrodbenson.com is owned by a woman named Elaine Mooseman. I can't tell you anything beyond that," he said.
I hung up the phone and whispered 5 words through my teeth: "Elaine Mooseman is going down."
I knew that my options were limited. What could I really do about this? I wasn't even entirely sure that I heard the name right. Elaine Mooseman? Why would she buy toomuchRODBENSON? I'm pretty sure that toomuchelainemooseman.com was available if she just wanted to be a copy cat. But no, she took the name I created years ago with my instant messenger screen name. I can still remember when I got the idea. I was watching the tape of Cal vs. Stanford hoops from my junior year, and I had just run off 12 straight points. As 11 and 12 fell through the net, the announcer said "It's just too much Rod Benson, too much number zero!"
Now Elaine Mooseman had it. Some woman, somewhere, knowingly or unknowingly had overtaken me in the 7 hours between when I fell asleep and when I woke up. I called up GoDaddy. They couldn't tell me anything because I didn't know my account number or the last 4 digits of the credit card I originally used to buy the domain. I mean coddamn, I lost my wallet like twice since then. It was then that I knew it was over. The dream was dead.
I began telling people what happened. Over the next couple of days, I had a few interesting conversations with people who were all shocked and appalled. One of my homies, Kelly, even said "Give it up. It's over. They got you."
I contemplated just using 2muchrodbenson.com, but then the whole word of mouth basis for this site would be dead. I got an IM from a friend of mine minutes after I looked into the 2much thing. For the sake of time, I'll post the conversation here. For the sake of children, I have edited it a bit:
Me: Mike:
2muchrodbenson.com
the new domain
what the hell
will be up later today
in process now
cant believe some breezy bought it
my word of mouth hype took a serious hit
coddamn, that's messed up
let's find out who bought it
we'll mess them up big time
by word of mouth
i know who bought it
its some woman named elaine mooseman
or something
i didnt get a spelling
do you have a location or anything?
nope
4:20 PM
well i'll talk to my boy. that's the biggest B.S. ever
4:25 PM
Elaine Moosman (address edited)
7*** H***** M*** C***
W**** J******, ** *****
United States
i think you should have people write her and tell you what they think
it could be the first entry on your new site
oh snap how did u find her
or did u just google the name
there are sites where you can get the info on who registers a domain
it doesnt show an email?
i bet we could find a phone number too
let me check
elaine******@msn.com
hahah forreal what page r u on?
where is this from
4:30 PM
my friend got it for me
mann wow
well time to send out the emails
hahaha
try and contact her first
ask her what the hell
yea im about to
i'll get you her phone number
(***) 566-4306
there you go
it's on like donkey kong
oh snap
im bought to call her right now
this is blog worthy
absolutely
dialing
haha hits like an old woman
voice mail tho
damn im not leaving a msg
damn
haha
4:35 PM
maybe she's at work, let's see if i can find any company info
hahah wow
i guess utah is like 530 right now
http://www.elaine-moosman-online.com/index.php
what the?
im gonna get screwed here
this does not seem like an old woman
4:40 PM
who is this guy, ur friend?
mann
you have a couple options, but it all starts with getting in touch with the b**ch
what are the options
a nice blog entry involving the public information. leave it up until you get your domain back.
let me think, there has to be something else you can do. it's totally screwed up
4:50 PM
damn this is crazy that i have all her info
this friend of urs is on another level
4:55 PM
did you send an email?
no
i have a phone number
blow up her home phone
5:00 PM
hell yeah
i just tried calling myself
hahaha
nice
just think, if all Rod Benson fans call the number...
at like 2am
hahaha
have like a call time
hahaha, that'd be f'ing great
break it into a couple groups
have a group call at 2am, another at 3:30, another at 4
i want to talk to her first
before i release the info
yeah, for sure
5:10 PM
i love your new away message (Elaine Mooseman is going down)
she is
i have a feeling she wont give it back
but i also have a feeling she has like 50 sites like mine
right. i'm on her site right now doing a contact us message about a different business matter that I made up. i can hopefully get some more info on her this way
hahah mannn
on my side!
5:15 PM
my name is Earl Garrick and I'm contacting them about web sales
hahah earl garrick
hahaha
Earl Garrick runs a website based on used auto parts
end of convo
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So after I finished talking to Mike, I called her up again. This time she answered. She definitely was an older woman.
"Hello," she said.
I got it started..."May I speak with Elaine please?"
"This is Elaine," she said again.
That's when I broke into it. I told her everything. I told her how I started toomuchrodbenson last year. I told her about how it has grown over that time. I told her that somehow I had lost it all for reasons unknown. I basically painted the picture of a sad, strange, broken man with nothing left except this domain name. The thing is, I was sad, I am strange, and toomuchrodbenson is all I have.
Elaine then explained to me that she is retired and that she makes her money these days buying domains that come recommended from domain appraisal services. She told me that my domain was appraised with a very high value. Kinda sweet. Then she said that she would give it back to me, no questions asked. I think her exact words were "Happy Birthday."
After a couple of hours of info switching, conference calls between myself, Elaine, and GoDaddy, toomuchrodbenson.com was mine once again. Elaine Mooseman is not going down. In fact, she went up big time in my book. If you ever run into her, sing her praises. Pay for her meal. Thank her for keeping the dream going baby. She knows whats up with boom tho.
Elaine, if you saw the title of this article, just know that you are definitely NOT going down.
The end.
The Offseason Part 4
August/23/2007 12:38 PM Filed in: Random
My off season continues to roll on as August passes and September comes in. I arrived in Sacramento 3 weeks ago direct from my NBA Fair extravaganza in North Dakota. Since getting up here, things have really slowed down for me. It seems like everything I do now has a meaning to it. The season is right around the corner, and what I do now will have a direct correlation with the season. I think they call this focus in some places. If so, this is the most focused I've ever been, but that doesn't mean that I can't have different kinds of excitement along the way.
My next door neighbor is Harold Pressley. You may remember him from Villanova back in the days or from the Sacramento Kings in the 90s. He has 3 kids, one of which looks exactly like Kevin Martin. I mean not like a look a like, but the kid looks like a kid would look if Kevin Martin reproduced asexually.
Anyways, these kids provide about 40% of my entertainment throughout the week. Most days, between 3 and 5pm, these kids will walk over and ask me to play baseball with them. I always oblige. They have home plate in the middle of the street, while first, second, and third are all located on Harold's wrap around driveway. Since the kids are different ages, they get different types of pitches. The 7 yr old girl gets underhand, the middle son who's 10 gets slow overhand, while 13 year old Kevin Martin gets fastballs baby. A homerun is anything over the house into the back yard.
Every day we play this game. Some days I'm just about to take a solid nap after a hard workout, but then these kids come over. They might as well be asking my mom "Can Rod come out and play?". There's even a couple other kids in the neighborhood who get in on the act. And those kids have a 20 year old sister who I just cant get them to introduce me to. Maybe it's the wrong idea to ask my 7 year old baseball teammate to hook me up with his sister. To be honest, I don't even know what she looks like, I just know shes 20 and I'm so bored that I have become an all-star on Matheny Way.
After a few days of baseball, my agent gave me a call. I stepped outside for like 45 seconds to swing my driver. When I stepped back in, I saw the missed call. I check the message on the phone.
"Rod, this is Bill. I'm going to sleep. I just wanted to let you know that we have an Invite to camp. I'm going to sleep though, call me in the morning."
I called him back but it went right to voicemail. I don't think he realized that it was like 7pm west coast time and that he didn't mention the team. Yes, I was hyped, but I had 4 hours to go before I even would begin to feel tired enough to sleep. My mind wandered all over the place. Chicago? Phoenix? Golden State? I had no idea.
First thing the next day, I called him up. "You're going to camp with New Jersey," he said.
New Jersey. Sweet. Immediately I had a pretty good list of what the situation is in Jersey:
1. I might have more connection to this team than any other team in the league. My connections include:
a. I was roommates with Jameel Pugh last year who supposedly was the first to ever do a through the legs dunk off two feet, and from whom Vince Carter then took it and made it even better.
b. My brother tells me that he is friends with Richard Jefferson. I guess Rich (Can I call you Rich, Rich?) frequents the L.A. Fitness that little Benson works at.
c. Last year Hassan Adams was on the team. Hassan and I use to party at the U of A.
d. Actually the biggest connection of all... I have a relative on the team. A cousin. Second cousins I believe, but I don't exactly have a family tree handy to figure it out. I know this may seem a bit shocking, but it's true. I am related to Jason Kidd. It has never been publicized for a variety of reasons, but If I was to get signed by some chance, it would be tight to play with someone of the same blood line. The problem with this is that I'm pretty sure he has no idea of our relation. It will be truly funny how this all comes about. Do I walk up to him and be like "Yo, oh sweet you're at camp too? That's tight man. By the way, you're my cousin. So, what's for lunch?"
What could be even more funny is if he decides to ask me how we are related. I don't have a good answer for that. I know my grandfathers last name is Kidd. After that, I didn't really ask my mother about the details. We both felt that it was important, especially since I went to Cal also, that I had my own identity and to not allow the media to publish this fact when I signed my letter of intent.
2. Could I be Mikki Moore part DOS!? Who knows? I do know that if I grew my hair out a little bit and got some tattoos, there would a lot of confused people in the New Jersey area.
3. Roster space? I looked online and pretty much saw that 16 of the 13 guys on the current roster are posts.
4. East Coast? Could be interesting. Rod Benson on the east would produce a whole different level of fun. I just don't know if I could hail a cab.
With a camp invite under my belt, my focus and work ethic have reached a new level. There is one big knock on Rod Benson: he's just too skinny. This off season I decided to do something about that. Granted, it's only been 2.5 weeks since I started my weight training, but I've already put on 6 lbs. of muscle. I was 219, now I'm 225. By the time camp starts in October, I could be up around 235.
How am I doing it? Well, it starts off with a personal trainer who works me to death. I realized that serious weight lifting requires killing yourself, or coming close, then living through it somehow and getting stronger as a result. If you've ever seen Dragon Ball Z, you know that Saiyan's are the same way. I'm just trying to become a super saiyan.
Besides just lifting, I make these shakes and have one after every meal. I went to the Max Muscle store and asked the guy what I should take. He pointed to this big ass tub of nonsense. I said to him "Umm do you have something smaller? I'm only here for a month and a half"
He said "If you're doing it right, this thing well be gone in 3 weeks."
My tub 'o protein for weight, creatine for recovery, and glucosamine for my joints.
Before I left the store, I asked him if I should take it with milk. He replied "Not unless you wanna fart all day long."
So after 2.5 weeks of water based shakes, I would say that he has been right about damn near everything we discussed. I can honestly say that this coddamn tub has about 3 shakes worth of stuff left. I can't believe how much I've consumed. One thing he was wrong about was the amount of gas these things give you. Mann sometimes I lie in bed and think "Is an NBA contract really worth having to smell your own gas all day?"
I mean, you know how you can always stand your own gas, no matter what? You know, sometimes you relish that smell. You want more of that smell. My gas right now is so terrible, that I gag sometimes. Even when it's just me in the house, I'll go outside on the street when I have to fart, then I'll run around a little bit so it doesn't linger with me, then I'll come back in the house, just so I don't have to smell it.
At the end of the day, it will all be worth it. The boring afternoons and stinky nights. The near death experiences that have consumed my weight training days. When I get to camp and I'm bigger, stronger, and faster than I was before, hopefully there will be no more questions. It will come down to 3 things in my mind:
Do he have the skill?
I think so
Do he have the desire?
Hell yes I do (Napoleon Dynamite)
Do he have the size and athleticism?
Always been athletic. Size? Improving every day baby! If they dont care about me stinking up practice, then we're good!
Well this will probably best my last off season post. Hopefully next time I write about hoops I'll be a 235lb monster! For now, I gotta go, the Pressley kids are knocking on the door.
My next door neighbor is Harold Pressley. You may remember him from Villanova back in the days or from the Sacramento Kings in the 90s. He has 3 kids, one of which looks exactly like Kevin Martin. I mean not like a look a like, but the kid looks like a kid would look if Kevin Martin reproduced asexually.
Anyways, these kids provide about 40% of my entertainment throughout the week. Most days, between 3 and 5pm, these kids will walk over and ask me to play baseball with them. I always oblige. They have home plate in the middle of the street, while first, second, and third are all located on Harold's wrap around driveway. Since the kids are different ages, they get different types of pitches. The 7 yr old girl gets underhand, the middle son who's 10 gets slow overhand, while 13 year old Kevin Martin gets fastballs baby. A homerun is anything over the house into the back yard.
Every day we play this game. Some days I'm just about to take a solid nap after a hard workout, but then these kids come over. They might as well be asking my mom "Can Rod come out and play?". There's even a couple other kids in the neighborhood who get in on the act. And those kids have a 20 year old sister who I just cant get them to introduce me to. Maybe it's the wrong idea to ask my 7 year old baseball teammate to hook me up with his sister. To be honest, I don't even know what she looks like, I just know shes 20 and I'm so bored that I have become an all-star on Matheny Way.
After a few days of baseball, my agent gave me a call. I stepped outside for like 45 seconds to swing my driver. When I stepped back in, I saw the missed call. I check the message on the phone.
"Rod, this is Bill. I'm going to sleep. I just wanted to let you know that we have an Invite to camp. I'm going to sleep though, call me in the morning."
I called him back but it went right to voicemail. I don't think he realized that it was like 7pm west coast time and that he didn't mention the team. Yes, I was hyped, but I had 4 hours to go before I even would begin to feel tired enough to sleep. My mind wandered all over the place. Chicago? Phoenix? Golden State? I had no idea.
First thing the next day, I called him up. "You're going to camp with New Jersey," he said.
New Jersey. Sweet. Immediately I had a pretty good list of what the situation is in Jersey:
1. I might have more connection to this team than any other team in the league. My connections include:
a. I was roommates with Jameel Pugh last year who supposedly was the first to ever do a through the legs dunk off two feet, and from whom Vince Carter then took it and made it even better.
b. My brother tells me that he is friends with Richard Jefferson. I guess Rich (Can I call you Rich, Rich?) frequents the L.A. Fitness that little Benson works at.
c. Last year Hassan Adams was on the team. Hassan and I use to party at the U of A.
d. Actually the biggest connection of all... I have a relative on the team. A cousin. Second cousins I believe, but I don't exactly have a family tree handy to figure it out. I know this may seem a bit shocking, but it's true. I am related to Jason Kidd. It has never been publicized for a variety of reasons, but If I was to get signed by some chance, it would be tight to play with someone of the same blood line. The problem with this is that I'm pretty sure he has no idea of our relation. It will be truly funny how this all comes about. Do I walk up to him and be like "Yo, oh sweet you're at camp too? That's tight man. By the way, you're my cousin. So, what's for lunch?"
What could be even more funny is if he decides to ask me how we are related. I don't have a good answer for that. I know my grandfathers last name is Kidd. After that, I didn't really ask my mother about the details. We both felt that it was important, especially since I went to Cal also, that I had my own identity and to not allow the media to publish this fact when I signed my letter of intent.
2. Could I be Mikki Moore part DOS!? Who knows? I do know that if I grew my hair out a little bit and got some tattoos, there would a lot of confused people in the New Jersey area.
3. Roster space? I looked online and pretty much saw that 16 of the 13 guys on the current roster are posts.
4. East Coast? Could be interesting. Rod Benson on the east would produce a whole different level of fun. I just don't know if I could hail a cab.
With a camp invite under my belt, my focus and work ethic have reached a new level. There is one big knock on Rod Benson: he's just too skinny. This off season I decided to do something about that. Granted, it's only been 2.5 weeks since I started my weight training, but I've already put on 6 lbs. of muscle. I was 219, now I'm 225. By the time camp starts in October, I could be up around 235.
How am I doing it? Well, it starts off with a personal trainer who works me to death. I realized that serious weight lifting requires killing yourself, or coming close, then living through it somehow and getting stronger as a result. If you've ever seen Dragon Ball Z, you know that Saiyan's are the same way. I'm just trying to become a super saiyan.
Besides just lifting, I make these shakes and have one after every meal. I went to the Max Muscle store and asked the guy what I should take. He pointed to this big ass tub of nonsense. I said to him "Umm do you have something smaller? I'm only here for a month and a half"
He said "If you're doing it right, this thing well be gone in 3 weeks."
My tub 'o protein for weight, creatine for recovery, and glucosamine for my joints.
Before I left the store, I asked him if I should take it with milk. He replied "Not unless you wanna fart all day long."
So after 2.5 weeks of water based shakes, I would say that he has been right about damn near everything we discussed. I can honestly say that this coddamn tub has about 3 shakes worth of stuff left. I can't believe how much I've consumed. One thing he was wrong about was the amount of gas these things give you. Mann sometimes I lie in bed and think "Is an NBA contract really worth having to smell your own gas all day?"
I mean, you know how you can always stand your own gas, no matter what? You know, sometimes you relish that smell. You want more of that smell. My gas right now is so terrible, that I gag sometimes. Even when it's just me in the house, I'll go outside on the street when I have to fart, then I'll run around a little bit so it doesn't linger with me, then I'll come back in the house, just so I don't have to smell it.
At the end of the day, it will all be worth it. The boring afternoons and stinky nights. The near death experiences that have consumed my weight training days. When I get to camp and I'm bigger, stronger, and faster than I was before, hopefully there will be no more questions. It will come down to 3 things in my mind:
Do he have the skill?
I think so
Do he have the desire?
Hell yes I do (Napoleon Dynamite)
Do he have the size and athleticism?
Always been athletic. Size? Improving every day baby! If they dont care about me stinking up practice, then we're good!
Well this will probably best my last off season post. Hopefully next time I write about hoops I'll be a 235lb monster! For now, I gotta go, the Pressley kids are knocking on the door.
Public Transportation/Use Your Phone
August/22/2007 12:32 PM Filed in: Random
As an avid Amtrak and BART (bay area subway type thing) rider, I am witness to many ridiculous things. Remember the man who followed me from Sacramento to Richmond, then followed onto the BART, then got off at Glen Park station just like me, only to offer me oral sex when we got there? Yea, that pretty much justifies me as an expert in Trains, BART, and ridiculousness.
Seems like every time I ride Amtrak something ridiculous happens. This last weekend, I was on my wasy from Sacramento to Richmond, like always. I had my Ipod on my ears, blasting my new favorite song. It's called "Feel The Rain on Your Skin" by Natasha Beddingfield. I know it's old, but so it "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton and that's hot too. Maybe it's just because it's on The Hills, which is now my 7th favorite show. I digress.
I had my music blasting real loud on my ears, and I was actually singing along. You know, kind of mumbling something like "staring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window, let the sun da da da da da da da da, reaching for something in the distance..." when I got that bathroom urge. It wasn't like "mann I need the bathroom right now" but it was still a "well, if I don't do this now, I could be in a world of hurt later".
I got out of my seat, music still blaring, and walked down the aisle, then down the stairs to the bottom level of the train where the bathroom was located. I remember vividly the part of the song I was on when I opened the bathroom door: "...release your inhibitions..."
I swung open the door and there was a woman frantically trying to cover herself up. I couldn't hear a word she was saying, if any, because now the song was on the chorus. I do remember her look though. It was so confused. I could tell her thoughts went from "Oh my word I've been exposed" to "Oh lordy I didn't lock the door" to "What the? This guy is like 8 feet tall!". It was when I realized that she got to this third stage of her shock process, that I slammed the door back shut. I guess we were both so in shock that I had been standing there for almost 3 seconds. 3 seconds is an eternity when you are faced with a random, tall black man, who can smell your poo and see it too.
After I slammed the door shut, I began to laugh. I realized that the Natasha Beddingfield song was still on, which was awesome. There are only a couple of funnier songs for a situation like that. There's "Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow, down to my home, I will not go.." I dont know what it's called, but I remember it from Kindergarten. There's also "Mmm Bop" by Hanson and possibly, well it's not a song, but, if for some reason, somebody was just yelling out "Duck, Duck, Duck..." and then when I opened the door, "Goose!" that would be hilarious.
Anyways, I then realized that the bathroom was in the middle of the row of seats. This meant that at least 7 other people had seen our interaction. Sweet. I laughed harder. I mean she wasn't that young, like in her 20's, but she wasn't old enough where she wouldn't care. She was just the right age and attractiveness to feel truly embarrassed. I returned to my seat and thought about what had gone down. I processed the fact that I didn't even look at her, but somehow I noticed so much. She then walked up the stairs. She saw me, turned around and went back down the stairs. I knew then that she took an alternate route to avoid walking past me. I understood.
My Public Transportation is not limited to Amtrak. The BART is also a big part of it. It also ties into the second half of this entry, Use Your Phone. I was riding the BART to San Francisco one night, and when a group of like 15 Irish girls got on heading the same direction. My first reaction was to grab my phone and scroll through my address book for no reason. I had no intention of calling anyone, but it just felt the right thing to do -- to seem like I was too busy to talk to them. I then realized that the phone is a societal weapon. When used correctly, the cell phone can say more than direct words ever could.
For example, that night, on the BART, I could have used my phone is a variety of ways. Yea, I did the standard address book scroll, but I could have done more. I could have done the fake text message. The fake text message basically consists of me pretending to send a text message, then look around kind of like I'm a big deal. Then I look at my phone as if it has just vibrated. A quick response to my text? Of course. I then respond to the fake response. I repeat this process over and over until I finally give a kind of exhausted sigh as if to say "Why am I so busy, cool, and important?"
I could have even taken it a step farther. I could have even made a fake phone call. This way the girls could hear every word I say, they might even interject, giggle, or rip my clothes off right there on the spot. A fake phone call consists of me, giving the fake scroll through the address book. Then I pretend to let the phone ring 3 times on the other end. Then, I create a fake conversation out of nowhere, and I talk juuuusssttt loud enough for the girls around me to hear it. The conversation has to make me seem awesome enough for them to be interested in me. I might say things that make no sense to anyone who knows the truth, but sounds cool to women. Like "Yea, that NBA intersquad backtrack thing we did last year with the Lakers was fun, you think we will do it again this year? Yea, we will need to invite some women to come this time. Can't let Shaq get all of them!" See, if you know basketball, you know that the intersquad backtrack thing means nothing, you know that Rod Benson has nothing to do with the Lakers, and that Shaq is married and is in Miami. If you are a random Irish girl you might just be very impressed.
A guy with no phone can't do that without the help of live friends there. I heard a Berkeley freshman attempt this (poorly) the other day. Since he wasn't smooth enough to make up a conversation on his phone, he did the next best thing he could think of to try to impress the girls at the table next to him at Chipotle. He struck up a very loud conversation with one of his boys. I was sitting at the next table so I could easily hear him say these exact words: "I would have called you but I have no phone. So I was texting this girl when some dude jumped me, so I had to beat his ass. Now I have no phone."
I looked over at Theo Robertson who was eating with me, and I asked him "True of False?". Theo quickly said "That was all false.". Exactly. A fake story, so fake, that I dont think that the girls bought it. If he really hadnt lost his phone, I would have advised him to use the fake text message so that nobody would have had to hear him speak. If it was a nice phone, he could have even done the "Hey see how expensive my phone looks?" technique, but nope. My phone was my weapon and his mouth was his defeat.
Seems like every time I ride Amtrak something ridiculous happens. This last weekend, I was on my wasy from Sacramento to Richmond, like always. I had my Ipod on my ears, blasting my new favorite song. It's called "Feel The Rain on Your Skin" by Natasha Beddingfield. I know it's old, but so it "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton and that's hot too. Maybe it's just because it's on The Hills, which is now my 7th favorite show. I digress.
I had my music blasting real loud on my ears, and I was actually singing along. You know, kind of mumbling something like "staring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window, let the sun da da da da da da da da, reaching for something in the distance..." when I got that bathroom urge. It wasn't like "mann I need the bathroom right now" but it was still a "well, if I don't do this now, I could be in a world of hurt later".
I got out of my seat, music still blaring, and walked down the aisle, then down the stairs to the bottom level of the train where the bathroom was located. I remember vividly the part of the song I was on when I opened the bathroom door: "...release your inhibitions..."
I swung open the door and there was a woman frantically trying to cover herself up. I couldn't hear a word she was saying, if any, because now the song was on the chorus. I do remember her look though. It was so confused. I could tell her thoughts went from "Oh my word I've been exposed" to "Oh lordy I didn't lock the door" to "What the? This guy is like 8 feet tall!". It was when I realized that she got to this third stage of her shock process, that I slammed the door back shut. I guess we were both so in shock that I had been standing there for almost 3 seconds. 3 seconds is an eternity when you are faced with a random, tall black man, who can smell your poo and see it too.
After I slammed the door shut, I began to laugh. I realized that the Natasha Beddingfield song was still on, which was awesome. There are only a couple of funnier songs for a situation like that. There's "Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow, down to my home, I will not go.." I dont know what it's called, but I remember it from Kindergarten. There's also "Mmm Bop" by Hanson and possibly, well it's not a song, but, if for some reason, somebody was just yelling out "Duck, Duck, Duck..." and then when I opened the door, "Goose!" that would be hilarious.
Anyways, I then realized that the bathroom was in the middle of the row of seats. This meant that at least 7 other people had seen our interaction. Sweet. I laughed harder. I mean she wasn't that young, like in her 20's, but she wasn't old enough where she wouldn't care. She was just the right age and attractiveness to feel truly embarrassed. I returned to my seat and thought about what had gone down. I processed the fact that I didn't even look at her, but somehow I noticed so much. She then walked up the stairs. She saw me, turned around and went back down the stairs. I knew then that she took an alternate route to avoid walking past me. I understood.
My Public Transportation is not limited to Amtrak. The BART is also a big part of it. It also ties into the second half of this entry, Use Your Phone. I was riding the BART to San Francisco one night, and when a group of like 15 Irish girls got on heading the same direction. My first reaction was to grab my phone and scroll through my address book for no reason. I had no intention of calling anyone, but it just felt the right thing to do -- to seem like I was too busy to talk to them. I then realized that the phone is a societal weapon. When used correctly, the cell phone can say more than direct words ever could.
For example, that night, on the BART, I could have used my phone is a variety of ways. Yea, I did the standard address book scroll, but I could have done more. I could have done the fake text message. The fake text message basically consists of me pretending to send a text message, then look around kind of like I'm a big deal. Then I look at my phone as if it has just vibrated. A quick response to my text? Of course. I then respond to the fake response. I repeat this process over and over until I finally give a kind of exhausted sigh as if to say "Why am I so busy, cool, and important?"
I could have even taken it a step farther. I could have even made a fake phone call. This way the girls could hear every word I say, they might even interject, giggle, or rip my clothes off right there on the spot. A fake phone call consists of me, giving the fake scroll through the address book. Then I pretend to let the phone ring 3 times on the other end. Then, I create a fake conversation out of nowhere, and I talk juuuusssttt loud enough for the girls around me to hear it. The conversation has to make me seem awesome enough for them to be interested in me. I might say things that make no sense to anyone who knows the truth, but sounds cool to women. Like "Yea, that NBA intersquad backtrack thing we did last year with the Lakers was fun, you think we will do it again this year? Yea, we will need to invite some women to come this time. Can't let Shaq get all of them!" See, if you know basketball, you know that the intersquad backtrack thing means nothing, you know that Rod Benson has nothing to do with the Lakers, and that Shaq is married and is in Miami. If you are a random Irish girl you might just be very impressed.
A guy with no phone can't do that without the help of live friends there. I heard a Berkeley freshman attempt this (poorly) the other day. Since he wasn't smooth enough to make up a conversation on his phone, he did the next best thing he could think of to try to impress the girls at the table next to him at Chipotle. He struck up a very loud conversation with one of his boys. I was sitting at the next table so I could easily hear him say these exact words: "I would have called you but I have no phone. So I was texting this girl when some dude jumped me, so I had to beat his ass. Now I have no phone."
I looked over at Theo Robertson who was eating with me, and I asked him "True of False?". Theo quickly said "That was all false.". Exactly. A fake story, so fake, that I dont think that the girls bought it. If he really hadnt lost his phone, I would have advised him to use the fake text message so that nobody would have had to hear him speak. If it was a nice phone, he could have even done the "Hey see how expensive my phone looks?" technique, but nope. My phone was my weapon and his mouth was his defeat.
The Offseason Part 3
August/02/2007 12:27 PM Filed in: Dakota
I'm currently awaiting a phone call from my agent alerting me of who I will go to training camp with (provided that anybody out there wants me). While in wait mode, I got a phone call from the media relations guy (Mike, if that's not your title, my bad) from the NBDL Dakota Wizards, Mike. Mike informed my that the NBA would contact me soon about an appearance they hoped I would do. A few days later I was on the phone with an NBA representative who informed me that the NBA has something called the NBA Fair. The NBA Fair is an NBA attraction that travels to state fairs all over the country. Specifically, the NBA Fair travels to fairs that are outside of traditional NBA Markets.
The NBA agreed to pay me to go to the NBA Fair at North Dakota's state fair in Minot, ND, to sign autographs and play games with the kids. I would be obligated to appear for an hour each day for two days. I figured it would be cool, plus there was money involved, duh.
When I stepped off the plane in North Dakota, there was a local sports reporter there who was ready to interview me. You can watch that here: http://www.kxma.com/video.asp?ArticleId=147564&VideoId=11908
I hadnt been back in Dakota for more than a couple of hours, when my old assistant coach told me to first meet him at some hotel bar where it was ladies night. When I got there, I instantly remembered one thing I loved about North Dakota. Ladies night meant that drinks were $1.30. One dollar and thirty cents? For anything? Gotta love that cost of living.
We eventually left the hotel bar and went to another bar that I had never been to before. I remember thinking that if I had to come back and play for the Wizards again, that these new bars could be my part of my solid rotation. It was right then that a woman gave this guy next to me the eye. It wasn't the usual eye, it was more of a dirty dancing type thing that he fully comprehended, while I was still left wondering. Next thing I know, these two go at it. It was probably the most hilarious dancing scene I have ever seen. Why? First of all, neither of them could dance...at all. Picture Napoleon Dynamite rocking out, alone, in his room, to his D-Kwon's Dance Grooves tape. It was like this guy and this girl at the bar figured out how to be equally, yet choreographically, ridiculous. I think of Sean Williams Scott in American Wedding. I think of Ben Stiller in Starsky and Hutch. Heck, I even think of the Ben Stiller vs Owen Wilson in Zoolander. Combine all of that in your mind and it becomes the dance-a-palooza that I saw these two strangers engage in that night. Just to clarify, this was not a dance bar by any means.
I decided that I needed to get a picture of the dance-a-thon that was taking place before my eyes. I was wondering how to pull it off without disrupting the magic that had now become a series of lap dances on the bar stool in front of me. See, even though they were in the heat of the dance, more people were still staring at me, the 6' 10" black guy who was there outside of basketball season and not the riverdance bandits. I made my mind up to just go for it. I snapped this photo off real quick:
As it turns out, right after the flash of my camera phone went off, she unwrapped her legs from around him, and he backed up off her, and it was done, just like I feared. The photo still captures everything I wanted it to. Besides the fact that her legs are propped up like a wheelbarrow, notice his men's softball league jersey, and her jacket that he, in the madness called Dance, has tied around his forehead like a bandana. Classic. I love all of it.
The next day, Mike and I drove out to Minot which is about an hour and a half away. After checking into our hotel, we headed down to the state fair. As we pulled up to the NBA Fair booth, I was getting kind of hyped. Last week Kris Humphries was here -- a real NBA player. This week? NBDL Champion of the World, and Memhpis Grizzlies (summer league of course) player, Rod Benson.
The booth was pretty big. I wouldn't even call it a booth, really. It had a full NBA sized half court set up on sport court. There were 3 baskets: a 10 foot rim, a 9 footer to the right of the main one, and an 8 footer on the left. To the right of the court was a tent set up with NBA Live 07 on ps3, among other cool NBA stuff that kids would periodically check out.
I sat down on one of the chairs under the pop-up tarp that had all the prizes for participants in the booth. I hadn't been sitting down for more than 5 minutes when I was approached by about 5-7 different people who were on a scavenger hunt at the fair. They had their lists, which I could easily read when they approached me. Number 2 on the list was "Get the autograph of an NBA player". Of course they proceeded to ask me to sign the sheet because I was the NBA player. I wanted to say "Umm, I am an NBDL World Champion and a Memphis Summer League starter, but alas, I am no NBA player". I decided that if I didn't sign the papers, nobody else really could in the whole state. Since I was the closest they were gonna get, I shut my mouth and signed the papers, but it still felt like I was forging my own signature or something.
I headed to the tent in the back where some of the emcees for the event were resting and drinking water, waiting for their turn to get on the mic. We all introduced ourselves. The guy who would be on the court with me during my hour was named Ryan. Ryan informed me that he had read my blog beforehand and since I was "cool", he would spice up our Q and A session a little bit and have some fun with it. I had no objections. I mean, my blog preceded me, gotta live up to the hype!
So, my hour of appearance time came and went. It didn't matter to me. I was having too much fun. I got on the mic and was cracking jokes, playing shooting competitions with the kids, and answering off the wall questions. Ryan and I even spent 20 minutes, aloud, in front of the whole booth, recounting our favorite scenes from the movie "Love Actually". 3 hours later I was still going strong, having fun, keeping the kids hyped up as best I could. I think in a way, I got more respect from the other guys for just having fun and kicking it with them, regardless of time, than anything else.
I was dragged away from the booth by Mike, who reminded me that it was about that time for the Big and Rich concert. Yep, I said it, the Big and Rich concert featuring Cowboy Troy. Big and Rich, for those who don't know, are a big time country music act. Mike informed me that the song I had come to love entitled "I Play Chicken with the Train", was performed by Cowboy Troy himself. Never heard of it? I guess you haven't lived in North Dakota. Let me fill you in on some of the best lyrics of all time:
The NBA agreed to pay me to go to the NBA Fair at North Dakota's state fair in Minot, ND, to sign autographs and play games with the kids. I would be obligated to appear for an hour each day for two days. I figured it would be cool, plus there was money involved, duh.
When I stepped off the plane in North Dakota, there was a local sports reporter there who was ready to interview me. You can watch that here: http://www.kxma.com/video.asp?ArticleId=147564&VideoId=11908
I hadnt been back in Dakota for more than a couple of hours, when my old assistant coach told me to first meet him at some hotel bar where it was ladies night. When I got there, I instantly remembered one thing I loved about North Dakota. Ladies night meant that drinks were $1.30. One dollar and thirty cents? For anything? Gotta love that cost of living.
We eventually left the hotel bar and went to another bar that I had never been to before. I remember thinking that if I had to come back and play for the Wizards again, that these new bars could be my part of my solid rotation. It was right then that a woman gave this guy next to me the eye. It wasn't the usual eye, it was more of a dirty dancing type thing that he fully comprehended, while I was still left wondering. Next thing I know, these two go at it. It was probably the most hilarious dancing scene I have ever seen. Why? First of all, neither of them could dance...at all. Picture Napoleon Dynamite rocking out, alone, in his room, to his D-Kwon's Dance Grooves tape. It was like this guy and this girl at the bar figured out how to be equally, yet choreographically, ridiculous. I think of Sean Williams Scott in American Wedding. I think of Ben Stiller in Starsky and Hutch. Heck, I even think of the Ben Stiller vs Owen Wilson in Zoolander. Combine all of that in your mind and it becomes the dance-a-palooza that I saw these two strangers engage in that night. Just to clarify, this was not a dance bar by any means.
I decided that I needed to get a picture of the dance-a-thon that was taking place before my eyes. I was wondering how to pull it off without disrupting the magic that had now become a series of lap dances on the bar stool in front of me. See, even though they were in the heat of the dance, more people were still staring at me, the 6' 10" black guy who was there outside of basketball season and not the riverdance bandits. I made my mind up to just go for it. I snapped this photo off real quick:
As it turns out, right after the flash of my camera phone went off, she unwrapped her legs from around him, and he backed up off her, and it was done, just like I feared. The photo still captures everything I wanted it to. Besides the fact that her legs are propped up like a wheelbarrow, notice his men's softball league jersey, and her jacket that he, in the madness called Dance, has tied around his forehead like a bandana. Classic. I love all of it.
The next day, Mike and I drove out to Minot which is about an hour and a half away. After checking into our hotel, we headed down to the state fair. As we pulled up to the NBA Fair booth, I was getting kind of hyped. Last week Kris Humphries was here -- a real NBA player. This week? NBDL Champion of the World, and Memhpis Grizzlies (summer league of course) player, Rod Benson.
The booth was pretty big. I wouldn't even call it a booth, really. It had a full NBA sized half court set up on sport court. There were 3 baskets: a 10 foot rim, a 9 footer to the right of the main one, and an 8 footer on the left. To the right of the court was a tent set up with NBA Live 07 on ps3, among other cool NBA stuff that kids would periodically check out.
I sat down on one of the chairs under the pop-up tarp that had all the prizes for participants in the booth. I hadn't been sitting down for more than 5 minutes when I was approached by about 5-7 different people who were on a scavenger hunt at the fair. They had their lists, which I could easily read when they approached me. Number 2 on the list was "Get the autograph of an NBA player". Of course they proceeded to ask me to sign the sheet because I was the NBA player. I wanted to say "Umm, I am an NBDL World Champion and a Memphis Summer League starter, but alas, I am no NBA player". I decided that if I didn't sign the papers, nobody else really could in the whole state. Since I was the closest they were gonna get, I shut my mouth and signed the papers, but it still felt like I was forging my own signature or something.
I headed to the tent in the back where some of the emcees for the event were resting and drinking water, waiting for their turn to get on the mic. We all introduced ourselves. The guy who would be on the court with me during my hour was named Ryan. Ryan informed me that he had read my blog beforehand and since I was "cool", he would spice up our Q and A session a little bit and have some fun with it. I had no objections. I mean, my blog preceded me, gotta live up to the hype!
So, my hour of appearance time came and went. It didn't matter to me. I was having too much fun. I got on the mic and was cracking jokes, playing shooting competitions with the kids, and answering off the wall questions. Ryan and I even spent 20 minutes, aloud, in front of the whole booth, recounting our favorite scenes from the movie "Love Actually". 3 hours later I was still going strong, having fun, keeping the kids hyped up as best I could. I think in a way, I got more respect from the other guys for just having fun and kicking it with them, regardless of time, than anything else.
I was dragged away from the booth by Mike, who reminded me that it was about that time for the Big and Rich concert. Yep, I said it, the Big and Rich concert featuring Cowboy Troy. Big and Rich, for those who don't know, are a big time country music act. Mike informed me that the song I had come to love entitled "I Play Chicken with the Train", was performed by Cowboy Troy himself. Never heard of it? I guess you haven't lived in North Dakota. Let me fill you in on some of the best lyrics of all time:
I play chicken with the train play chicken with the train train, uh huh huh uh huh huh,
You know that I play chicken with the train play chicken with the train train uh huh huh uh huh huh yea,
Who? The big black neck commin' through to you boy you done fell and bumped you head uh huh,
That's what they said,
People say it's impossible, not probable, too radical,
But I already been on the CMA's,
Hell Tim McGraw said he liked the change,
That he likes the way my Hick-hop sounds and the way the crowd screams when I stomp the ground,
Now, big and black, clickty clack and I make the train jump the track like that
I love this song, albeit that it is country music, because there are times when I, being big and black, go clickity clack, and make train jump off the track. You don't like it? Well then boy you done fell and bumped yo head!
Mike and I used our free tickets (they cost $60 normally, for country? really?) and heard Cowboy Troy's legendary track as we walked through the front doors. I've never been to a country concert before, so it was a hell of a scene. For one, everybody had on the "bundle" as I call it. The bundle looks something like this:
Cowboy hat, tucked in button down shirt, usually flannel, and boots. When I saw Cowboy Troy on stage, I knew he was still true to his black man roots, because his bundle was a little bit baggier than the rest. I bet his was designed by Sean John or Roca Wear. Mike kept telling people that Troy was my brother. Some people actually believed it. How could you really believe that? Do you see what this guy is wearing? Baggy or not, I am definitely bundle-less.
cowboy hats at cowboy troy
Big and Rich took the stage next. I must say that it was pretty electric, even though I'm not a country fan. The people seemed to love it. Country is the rap of the midwest, I determined. Ryan from the NBA Fair caught up with us, and we headed over to beer table at the far end of the concert. We pretty much enjoyed the rest of the concert from the beer tables.
the view from the beer area was a little farther
We had been at the beer area for over an hour when Big and Rich played the song I heard more than any other song while I was in North Dakota last season. The song is called "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy". I have been known to sing my own, remixed, version of the song in which I say "Save a life, ride Rod Benson." I don't even think that makes any sense, but I'm no cowboy, therefore horses are irrelevant to me. I don't think I'd ever heard 10,000 people sing a country song together at one time, until that very moment when John RIch (I don't know how I know his first name) got up on stage and began his PETA friendly song.
I left Minot and the NBA Fair on Sunday and headed back to sacramento. I was forced to check the Taylor Made Driver a golf pro sold me for $50. Luckily it didn't break and it actually made it out here. I hope the NBA calls me with some other app
I'm currently in Sacramento right now, working out on a daily basis at Basketball Town. This past week I have played against such competition as Matt Barnes, Ricky Davis, Justin WIlliams, Quincy Douby, Bobby Jackson, and Mike WIlks. If there's any place to get better it's here. If there's any time to get better (cliche, so what) it's now. Hopefully my next "The Offseason" post will include my invitation to training camp.
The Greatest to Ever Come Out of Cardiff by the Sea?
July/26/2007 12:23 PM Filed in: Hoops
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.
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).
July/25/2007 12:20 PM Filed in: Random
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.
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
July/24/2007 12:19 PM Filed in: Random
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.
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
July/23/2007 12:15 PM Filed in: Hoops
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.
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
June/25/2007 12:13 PM Filed in: Hoops
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
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
June/18/2007 11:28 AM Filed in: MySpace Messages
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.
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
June/02/2007 11:23 AM Filed in: Random
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 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)
June/02/2007 11:22 AM Filed in: Random
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
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!
May/24/2007 11:18 AM Filed in: Random
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.
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!
May/07/2007 11:17 AM Filed in: Random
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.
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
May/07/2007 11:15 AM Filed in: Random
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.
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.
Jerome Beasely Strikes Back
April/17/2007 11:09 AM Filed in: Dakota
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.
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
April/15/2007 11:07 AM Filed in: Dakota
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...
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
April/02/2007 11:05 AM Filed in: Dakota
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.
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
March/30/2007 11:04 AM Filed in: Random
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..
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
March/11/2007 10:49 AM Filed in: MySpace Messages
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.
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
March/10/2007 10:46 AM Filed in: Dakota
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.
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
March/10/2007 10:43 AM Filed in: Dakota
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.
&nb
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.
&nb