Saturday, September 10, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
Labor Day = Lazy Day
Have I ever mentioned how much I love Ovaltine? No? Well, I'm coming out. I love me some Ovaltine. Chocolatey malty milky goodness. I swear I could drink Ovaltine all damn day. That kid in the commercial knew what was up... he was down with it. "More Ovaltine, please!" When I get to the bottom of the jar, a part of my heart breaks. When my milk jug runs dry, life becomes unbearable. For just a moment, at least. If forced to choose between giving up Ovaltine or beer for life, I would need some serious time for consideration. And I'd probably keep Ovaltine. It's almost an addiction. Yeah. I love Ovaltine.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
BREAKING NEWS: I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT FOOTBALL
Really. I don't.
I went to UGA. I went to every game for five years. Ok, that's a fib. I went to almost every game for five years. I didn't get to to go to the Aloha Bowl in 2000. And I missed one LSU game and one Kentucky game. Because they didn't take the whole 400+ person marching band to these three games and I was still a freshman and not a member of the Derbies pep band. But I went to every other game. Every. Game. I wore a uniform that was made of 100% wool, with pants that were actually overalls (bibbers is what they're called) and a thick-ass coat that generally cut off half of your breathing ability and the upward range of motion for your arms, and which was topped off with a stupid hat with a feather plume on top (called a shako) that smelled like feet. You sweated your ass off, literally, most of the time. (The bosses are benevolent, though, and let you remove your coat in the stands when the outside temperature is over 90 degrees.) Or you froze your ass off: no other coats allowed, and sweatshirts would not fit underneath the uniform. No biggie, you'll feel your fingers and toes tomorrow! Or you were wet and soggy. We had official raincoats for a bit, but they got moldy and some got lost, and after two years there weren't enough non-moldy ones for everyone, so no raincoats for you, don't worry, that horrendous 'wet dog' smell will only take 4 days to scrub off your skin.
Yup. Every game. Playing cheers that were announced by the drum major making hand signs like a baseball coach. Hearing "Glory" until my ears bled (hopefully... meant we were winning). Having drunk 50-year-old fans of the other team call me unspeakable names and throw half-eaten chicken wings and cups of soda at me, or maybe just a 30-something, 6' 4" dude with a little boy call me a 'fucking bitch-ass cunt with a dog face' and attempt to shove me out of his way. (I stood my ground on that one and threatened to bean him with a cymbal before the drumline tech stepped in and told him to fuck off).
So you know? I like it when they win. But I don't follow it, I don't know the players' names or stats, I don't know the schedule without looking at it, and I don't get my sandy panties in a wad when they lose. UGA is not a bad team, but they've pretty much never been an amazing team. They're really good at the last-minute let-down. Been doing it for years, they have. Every now and then they pull something awesome out of their asses at the last second and someone saves the day (see Outback Bowl 1999 or Auburn maybe 2002? it rained and was freezing and we won on an amazing pass in OT), but that's a rarity. I can't understand how some people just lose their shit and seriously mope for days. It's a game, stupid. Like Monopoly or strip poker. And at least in strip poker you might actually get something that's a direct benefit to you.
I also can't understand the vitriol that is spewed in the direction of whichever coach happens to be employed at the time. All he can do is tell them what to do, he can't play the game himself or control what they do out on the play field. And he's not their papa, either. Some football player acted the fool downtown and got himself arrested on a drunk and disorderly charge? How the hell is that the coach's fault?? He's a FOOTBALL COACH, not a nanny or life coach or omnipresent god. He's got his own shit to worry about once he's off the clock. Is it his fault that Damon Evans had to hold that poor girl's red panties for her, too? Gah. How about the team just isn't perfect, and is populated with dumbass 18-22 year old boys that act stupid just like all the other 18-22 year old boys here on campus?
In other news, I went thrifting with Brandon and Josh today. We went to America's Thrift Store and Goodwill. I spent a total of $40, which normally has me freaking out. But I did get five albums, five movies (including Tank Girl and Blacula), one pack of disposable tupperware, two skirts, and four dresses. So I guess that's ok. Tomorrow we're taking a trip to J&J Flea Market. Somehow I've lived in Athens since 1999 and have never been to J&J, so I'm pretty pumped. Hopefully I'll score some neat shit.
I went to UGA. I went to every game for five years. Ok, that's a fib. I went to almost every game for five years. I didn't get to to go to the Aloha Bowl in 2000. And I missed one LSU game and one Kentucky game. Because they didn't take the whole 400+ person marching band to these three games and I was still a freshman and not a member of the Derbies pep band. But I went to every other game. Every. Game. I wore a uniform that was made of 100% wool, with pants that were actually overalls (bibbers is what they're called) and a thick-ass coat that generally cut off half of your breathing ability and the upward range of motion for your arms, and which was topped off with a stupid hat with a feather plume on top (called a shako) that smelled like feet. You sweated your ass off, literally, most of the time. (The bosses are benevolent, though, and let you remove your coat in the stands when the outside temperature is over 90 degrees.) Or you froze your ass off: no other coats allowed, and sweatshirts would not fit underneath the uniform. No biggie, you'll feel your fingers and toes tomorrow! Or you were wet and soggy. We had official raincoats for a bit, but they got moldy and some got lost, and after two years there weren't enough non-moldy ones for everyone, so no raincoats for you, don't worry, that horrendous 'wet dog' smell will only take 4 days to scrub off your skin.
Yup. Every game. Playing cheers that were announced by the drum major making hand signs like a baseball coach. Hearing "Glory" until my ears bled (hopefully... meant we were winning). Having drunk 50-year-old fans of the other team call me unspeakable names and throw half-eaten chicken wings and cups of soda at me, or maybe just a 30-something, 6' 4" dude with a little boy call me a 'fucking bitch-ass cunt with a dog face' and attempt to shove me out of his way. (I stood my ground on that one and threatened to bean him with a cymbal before the drumline tech stepped in and told him to fuck off).
So you know? I like it when they win. But I don't follow it, I don't know the players' names or stats, I don't know the schedule without looking at it, and I don't get my sandy panties in a wad when they lose. UGA is not a bad team, but they've pretty much never been an amazing team. They're really good at the last-minute let-down. Been doing it for years, they have. Every now and then they pull something awesome out of their asses at the last second and someone saves the day (see Outback Bowl 1999 or Auburn maybe 2002? it rained and was freezing and we won on an amazing pass in OT), but that's a rarity. I can't understand how some people just lose their shit and seriously mope for days. It's a game, stupid. Like Monopoly or strip poker. And at least in strip poker you might actually get something that's a direct benefit to you.
I also can't understand the vitriol that is spewed in the direction of whichever coach happens to be employed at the time. All he can do is tell them what to do, he can't play the game himself or control what they do out on the play field. And he's not their papa, either. Some football player acted the fool downtown and got himself arrested on a drunk and disorderly charge? How the hell is that the coach's fault?? He's a FOOTBALL COACH, not a nanny or life coach or omnipresent god. He's got his own shit to worry about once he's off the clock. Is it his fault that Damon Evans had to hold that poor girl's red panties for her, too? Gah. How about the team just isn't perfect, and is populated with dumbass 18-22 year old boys that act stupid just like all the other 18-22 year old boys here on campus?
In other news, I went thrifting with Brandon and Josh today. We went to America's Thrift Store and Goodwill. I spent a total of $40, which normally has me freaking out. But I did get five albums, five movies (including Tank Girl and Blacula), one pack of disposable tupperware, two skirts, and four dresses. So I guess that's ok. Tomorrow we're taking a trip to J&J Flea Market. Somehow I've lived in Athens since 1999 and have never been to J&J, so I'm pretty pumped. Hopefully I'll score some neat shit.
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