The regular season is over. All your other wins are meaningless. If you do
not win this weekend’s Flip Cups Tournament you are just another pretender who could not get it done when it really counted. DC Indy’s true champion will be decided this weekend. Some teams will say they won all the
time, that they deserve the title. It is easy to win when the pressure is not on, but now we will see what your flip cup team is truely made of.
Does your team have what it takes to be a true Champion? For those teams brave enough to take the challenge I will see you on Saturday. The rest of you will make excuses like “a lot of our team member will be out of town” or “I have a wedding to go to” or “I am under house arrest”. You know what that is, that s fear talking, you know you can’t handle the pressure so you find way to get out of it without looking like the gutless wonder that you truly are. Your weakness sickens me.
The time has come for you to do something your parents can finally be proud of and stop wasting your life.
The Tournament will begin around 5:30 or 6:00 there will be no prizes except the ability to look in the mirror and not be ashamed of what is looking back.
Lately, the Sports Guy’s columns have fallen into two distinct categories: shorter, semi-funny essays for ESPN The Magazine and long, rambling, hilarious diatribes. The former really disappoint the hell out of me, the latter make life worth living. Well here’s one that will make you fall out of your chair.
This is very funny but true. I was on the way to T-subcommittee’s second
game which was my first as I was driving from Baltimore to Washington via the BW
parkway. I was pulled over for speeding and was very nervous. The Park
Police officer was MEAN!!! He asked me where I was going and I told him “to my
kickball game and I am LATE!” I ended up going to court and was put in a room
to “work it out” with the police officer. He looked at the ticket and said,
“You said you were going to a kickball game?? HOW COOL! Give me a high five!”
He ended letting me off the charge with no fine or points. He just said he
wants to see the games and will be down during playoffs.
We are interested in hearing more about your rivalry. Let’s start by you
telling me just how bad you want to beat these guys the next time you square
off. Also, will your team, and theirs, be doing any trashtalking
before/during the event? When the actual competition takes place, what are
some things we should pay attention to (captains meeting before the game,
points of high drama, etc.). Also, I was wondering if you could give me some
information about your team. What is the average age of your players? Our
goal is to find teams with people under the age of 25 (we can bend on this
slightly if necessary). Any information you can give me is appreciated.
Last year, there was a group of girls on the Fockers who did not approve of the team name. Too close to Fuckers, I guess. Anyway, off they go, and form their own team with other friends of theirs this year. Here’s the ironic part: the name of their new team? Bada Bing. For those of you who don’t have HBO, Bada Bing is the name of a strip club owned by Tony Soprano. Here’s quote of hbo.com that illustrates what kind of place we’re talking about:
One trip to the Bada Bing and you immediately get the lure of mob life – bare-breasted nineteen-year-olds, no wives, free liquor, no wives, your closest male friends, and no wives.
Erin and Liz, if you reading this, no hard feelings, ok? This was just too funny.
I spent a weekend with the Naughty Little Monkeys up in Dewey this past weekend. Pictures and stories to come.
We had dinner Saturday night at some generic seafood place, the Crusty Crab or something. Anyway, they brought out free servings of hush puppies to whet our apetite, complete with little containers of sweetened butter to dip them in. The containers were about the size of the circle formed by your thumb and forefinger when you’re going OK.
I’m not sure how this came up, but all of a sudden Ernie dares me to take a butter shot. I dismiss the dare, but then he offers to buy my dinner (flounder, stuffed with crab and scallops) if I do it. BAM! One enormous spoonful later, and I’m eating for free.
In a weird way, I’m simultaneously proud and ashamed of this.
So, I’ve decided that I want to buy a place. Take a minute to let that sink in…
Yup, the “housing bubble” prophet himself is thinking about buying a place. Why? Well, a couple of reasons. First and foremost, three years of rent close to a grand with no equity to show for it is starting to gnaw at my brain. By the time I get a place (if I buy a place), it will be March of 2004, and I will have spent around $45,000 on rent. Gak. Secondly, aside from the absurd prices, the climate is very pro-borrower. Need to get in before the getting’s bad.
So, I’m starting a checklist of things I need to learn about. I’m remarkably ignorant about buying a home:
condo fees – what can I expect
interest rates – where are they now?
real estate taxes
mortgage insurance
closing costs
down payments
DC First-time home buyer credit
If you’ve been through this process (in DC), please feel free to share.
This is more funny that serious. I refer to myself as social liberal and economically conservative. Regardless, I tend to fall in line with Republicans, rather than Democrats. So, as a good Republican I should believe in lowering taxes and giving money back to the tax payer.
I’m also the president of a kickball division. And it looks like we have a “budget surplus” for the year. So, I’m talking to my roommate (Easy), who works on the Hill for a Republican in congressman, about what to do with the money. He shouts “Give it back to the people, man!”. Which is consistent conservative thinking. However, it was ludicrous.
On the one hand, I can refund everyone in the division something like $3 per person. On the other hand I can throw a monster party with kegs, mixed drinks, and music as far as the eye can see. It’s a no-brainer, right! People (collectively) will get more utility out of this party than out of $3.
So, am I a hippocrite when I scream for lower taxes? Maybe, maybe not. I like to think I don’t mind paying taxes, I just hate the thought of my money being flushed down the toilet. But it’s an interesting parallel nonetheless, and something to ponder.
