Chipper Jones is a Pompous, Arrogant Douche-bag

Sorry, but this is one of those rant posts that may not be relevant to all of you. I just needed to vent.
Read this short article.

The quote that bothers me:
"Honestly it's a shame that I've got to go out and hit .400 for two months to make an All-Star team," Jones said. "It's kind of depressing to me because I've had — to me — what I think are some pretty good first halves, what I think is a pretty good career, and I haven't made an All-Star team since '01. ... But I'll take it. Got to make a splash to get people's attention? Got to make a splash."

Fuck you! Damn right you have to make a splash to make the All-Star team! Hey, "Chipper" in case you haven't figured this out, the All-Star game is an honor bestowed upon you by the fans who vote for you, or the manager of the team that year deciding you are one of the best players in baseball. Yes, you've been a great player for the last 15+ years (I know for sure you kill the Phils), but that doesn't entitle you to anything. You are privileged to be a grown man playing a child's game for millions of dollars. Your job is to entertain people. You should be honored that you do it well enough for them to appreciate your skills. Don't bitch and moan about how you deserve to be recognized before this.

This is even worse than most cases of selfish athletes that I hear about. What compounds it is the fact "Chipper" is going after one of the most sacred and holy numbers in all of sports, .406. I'm not gonna say you don't deserve this, "Chipper". I'm sure you've worked very hard and as I've said before, you are very talented and you make the most out of it. But could you grow up a little? If you do hit .400, you'll have some awfully big shoes to fill.

dream not dream

One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn't belong.
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?


I went to visit Jaffar in the desert, where there was a motorcycle race course. One of the obstacles in the course was an enormous piece of wood, like made by aliens or the work of slaves for generations enormous. Jaffar had the corner apartment with a view, and when we were inside I could see that it wasn't actually a single piece of wood but rather a million tiny logs held together by elastic cords. There were hollows inside that we slung through, but we had to be very very qwiet because his parents were asleep in the next hollow over.

We were playing in a battle of the bands for some charity event at a bar, but instead of real bands it was a Rock Band battle. At first the audio-video calibration was off and we got booed off the stage. We made kissy faces at the judges though and got a second chance, where we rocked and made it into the finals. Jamo wore his Cinco de Mustache and had a giant cucumber stuffed in his pants. In the finals Zhi played the guitar solo to More Than a Feeling with his tongue, and got a 100% on it. The judges overlooked us in the final decision though, giving the win to a bunch of tranny guys in strapless dresses who didn't shave their armpits.

I went to a Burger King for the Mother's Day special, but they must've mixed up my order because I just got a regular double cheeseburger. "That cheeseburger is poisoning America" Crank tells me matter-of-factly. At that point I saw next door a McDonalds with a big sign for their Mother's Day special, which was an eleventy-patty burger. We went over but couldn't get in because the doors were blocked by waffle fries from floor to ceiling.

no mickey

It was a mouse. It was small and skittery on the floor near the utility closet. I almost screamed like a little girl. Then I slowly closed the door to the closet and gave up on my search for the heating pad I'd put in there months ago. Get hot, little mouse, I'll be over here with tense calf muscles hoping Zhi doesn't punch me in the face.

Back from the East Bay, starring K2 and Zhi

K2 (singing): Why do you fill me up? Buttercup? Just to da da da? Buttercup?! Da da da da!!
(To Zhi in the bathroom): Are you gonna be ok? Can I go to bed and you won't die?

Zhi (from behind K2's bathroom): mumble mumble

K2: If you're just laying on the floor hugging the toilet, you should go to bed and put a trash can next to you.

Zhi: mumble mumble I puked on your carpet!!

K2: Okay, well try not to strangle yourself in your own vomit, cuz I still want to keep hanging out with you and stuff.

Silence

A few minutes later

Zhi (leaving the bathroom): You don't know me!!!

Holey Bagel

I went to Holey Bagel today, as usual, and and got an Egg Tasty, as usual. And as I was standing there watching the man make my Egg Tasty, I actually paid attention to how it all went down. First he took an egg, a real egg, and cracked it open and scrambled it. Then he put the scrambled egg into a microwave that for the purposes of this writing we'll refer to as microwave #1. Then he took some bacon and put it into what we'll call microwave #2 while microwave #1 was working on my egg. And then after the egg was pretty much done, he put some cheese on the egg and put the cheesy egg into microwave #3. So I started wondering, how the hell do the people that work at Holey Bagel not have deadly radiation poisoning? There are three microwaves that, as far as I can tell, are pretty hardcore considering everything they cook comes out of these microwaves, and they stand directly in front of the microwaves at a distance of roughly eighteen inches for what has to be seven days a week considering I've only ever seen the same three people working there. So many microwaves! I remember when I was a kid and I'd walk past the microwave while it was on and my mom would flip out on me because she thought something horrible and irreversible was going to happen to me. So what the hell?