Crummy: San Diego Baby

Hello all! I just spent the last week or so traveling from Kansas City, Kansas to San Diego, California in a car with a person, 2 dogs and a cat. It was crazy I know but I got some good pictures of the great southwest. Interestingly, there aren't many people that live in some parts of this country, but I probably got about every one of them I could. If you haven't been to sunny southern California you are missing out. Just ask The Risssshhhiiii. With his California look and a Supermanesque curl in the front.



Anywho, I will figure out how to get these pictures onto the blog so you can take a gander at some crazy big rocks and a huge whole in the ground. But for now, I will fade off into the sunset.

Clinically Numb

We had a clinic this afternoon to get some experience in giving local anesthetics. Apparently some of my colleagues had a good bit of anxiety about this event. I never really thought about it.. maybe because I wasn't reminded about it until last night. Luckily, my attention was elsewhere yesterday..

So the attending asked for a volunteer on whom he could point out the various anatomical landmarks we were going to inject. Of course that ended up being me. So I laid back in the chair and waited. No big deal.. I've had injections before. My records of immunizations are quite impressive. I've never had an injection in the head/neck region though.

I just laid back in the chair with a dab of topical anesthetic numbing my mucosa. I'm not sure how this stuff was ever labelled 'cherry flavored.' I never really had any anxiety until I looked up and saw 12 eager dental students holding syringes that were just waiting for a green light. I really did feel vulnerable. The dental chair was tipped back. The topical anesthetic was starting to trickle (and numb) my throat as I accidentally swallowed it. And to top it all off, I had 12 kids that have put up with me for the past two years cocked, locked, and ready to rock. I felt like this guy:


Once we started the actual shots, it wasn't that bad. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to cancel my plans this weekend to go get a couple of nerve blocks.. I just don't see why people are so fearful. It is pretty annoying that the left side of my lips and tongue are still numb though.

Summer of Dev Apology (#1)

Dear Hopsings,
First, I'd like to say that I'm glad you overcame your personal problems. Obviously, that's not the reason of this letter though. I just want to say I regret I ever doubted your wicked awesome culinary skills. I am man enough to fess up when I've made a mistake and I'm sorry. If this letter does not make everything ok, then atleast know I've had your Japanese/Chinese/Thai cuisine 3 times this week. When considering this, please take into account that it's only Tuesday.
-Dev.

P.S.- Say hey to General Tso.

Now before I get all the 'you're a gluttonous slob' fan mail, let me explain. I'm running over a quarter marathon this weekend and need their sodium-laden meals to help retain water. Now where did I put their mailing number?

Golf Hazards

I played close to a hundred holes of golf two weeks ago. Somewhere around hole 65, our foursome came across the most distracting hole of golf ever. Checks these pics:

At first look, that just seems like a poorly-maintained fairway. If you click on the picture to enlarge it, you can see that some jackass setup his daughter's trampoline in the line of fire. Those kids would be safer doing cartwheels in the fairway, but instead they're just tempting my slice. No big deal though, we'll just tee-off from the ladies' tee.


Of course when we go to the ladies' tee, some repairman decides that he should check on a cable connection.

Obviously, St. Patty's Day pictures are up. My memory is a bit blurry, but I think sometime during the 7 Mary 3 show the lead singer called me an asshole.

Yardcocks vs. the Gators

The 9th ranked Florida Gators (17-8) are coming to the Sarge to take on the 7th ranked Cocks (19-3) this weekend. Click here for streaming video coverage of tonight's matchup.

I-Deaf

I got on the elevator today to go up to the 6th floor. I was running late, so of course we stopped at every floor along the way. Around the 3rd floor, this girl got on while listening to her ipod (normal student accessory). She was blaring some 3 6 Mafia, I could hear her staying fly (IIII II II I) from a few feet away. I just stood there thinking this is a perfect example of how mp3 players are leading to hearing loss. I've read a few studies on this, but the best way I've seen this process described is to compare your hearing to walking on some grass. If you walk away, the grass heals after a few days. Keep treading on it, and well.. you get the picture.

Also, Charleston's traffic was crippled yesterday when the Ashley River Bridge wouldn't close all the way.. and I was there at ground zero.

The New Postal Service

I think the government should assign everyone a mailing number when you are born. You get this number, then head over to your local USPS office and tell them where to send your mail. This way you could just go around and quickly give your number instead of having to spell out 3 lines worth of an address.

So when the high school kids come around to sell subscriptions to Playboy or Playboy-esque Maxim, all you have to do is say 'sure thing, just send them to 9835-3463-5774-0101 (which may or may not coincidentally be wty's newest Visa number).'

This could even further idiot-proof the mail system. You grab an envelope, write down the number for its receiver, the USPS scans the number and automatically knows where to send it. Here's a situation where it would help: occasionally I get some mailer that is intended for a Mrs. Sanders. The address is right, but the woman doesn't live here. So either the (possibly) senile Mrs. Sanders forgot her mailing addy when signing up for junk mail, or she's trying to pull some scam. Either way, it means I have to write 'does not live here' on the envelope, walk out to the damn mailbox, raise that damn flag, and walk back to my place without accidentally falling into unwanted neighborly small talk. The whole process reminds me of a certain Jason's Deli fiasco.

I'm sure my camouflage-clad readers are in their bomb-shelters thinking that this would make it too easy for the gov'ment to track our mail. My only response to that is go read the Patriot Act and you'll understand that civil liberties aren't in style anymore.

Anyway, here's the best feature of the mailing number: You can seamlessly change mailing addresses. Just go to the USPS and tell them that all mail for 9835-3463-5774-0101 should be sent to whatever your new addy is.

But wait, there's more! Let's take it up a notch.. eventually this could lead to the ability of blocking junk mail. 'Hi, my mailing number is 9835-3463-5774-0101. Could you please block all mail from Williams Sonoma's and my congressman's mailing numbers? Thanks.'

Think it's a good idea? See something blatantly stupid? Man up and brainstorm in the comments section.

Pics from this weekend will be up later this week.

Music: New London Fire

I caught a show by the energetic, techno-pop New London Fire (website, myspace) at the Map Room this weekend.

I was sold after the vocals and fast tempo of their opening song. Click here for a few free mp3s.. I particularly like 'Different' and 'We Don't Bleed.' For the multimedia averse, be careful.. music may play upon loading of these pages. I know I've commented on the Map Room before, but I have to say this is one of my favorite venues. Good acoustics, nice couches, and best of all it doesn't have that dirty feel of most other dives.

The Underworld

So I've picked up a new job on the side working with one of Charleston's premiere catering companies. It was alot of work, but I had a great time doing it. We steamed 40 bushels of both local and Gulf stream oysters, along with preparing a hog and various sides for over 300 people at a fundraising benefit. The job description that was given to me was 'do some cooking, drink their beer, and eat their food.. oh yeh, and get paid while doing it.' Sold! So while I was steaming the last few bushels and listening to Neil from accounting give his rendition of 'Live Like you Were Dying,' it dawned on me that this was the just the type of job I needed. So my new fallback career is professional caterer.. the West Ashley Clown College will just have to wait.

We finished working and got home around midnight, showered up, and decided to go spend some tip money out on the town. Before heading downtown, we stopped by a birthday party a few hours late. Most of the party-goers were passed out, so we helped ourselves to the keg and played a few rounds on their beer pong table.


The Cocky side of me said torch it, but the hosts were waking up so we left before having to make small talk. The bar we went to was rocking it out for one last night before shutting down for good. Since it was their last hurrah, they defied all blue laws and violated basic principles of the major religions. We went in through a side door, and were handed drinks by one my favorite local bartenders. That's when I realized it- I was being sucked into the Underworld of the Service Industry. The Service Industry is very similar to a colony of Vampires. These 'people' tend to sleep the day away, then claim the dark hours of the night as their's. And I gotta say.. I was loving every second of it. The Underworld had an atmosphere the MSS has been attempting to create for over a year now.

I found a few colleagues from my day-life there and after a few rounds, decided to take it up a notch. So I'm at the bar getting handed shots between this girl's legs when one of her fellow dancers slips while pointing to the windows, to the wall. As she falls, she knocks over a cooler full of ice and beer and hits her head against some mini-bottles. She was fine, except for a bruised ego and soaked t-shirt, but that's when they stopped the music and stopped serving. I guess that party foul was the equivalent of killing the Head Vampire.. game over.

So this is what it would be like

Well this is brilliance that I'm not poetic enough to articulate. I noticed a few discrepancies from the original. These include the fact that Springfield is in America, not England. Also, the cash register in the grocery store scene is a different model and doesn't blink 'NRA4EVER.' Feel free to comment on any other differences.



I know there have been a lot of 'dancing baby' type posts on here since I've been otherwise occupied. Don't worry, there will be a Renaissance.

Crummy: Anyone Need Representation?

While surfing the Internet this week I discovered several individuals who appear to need either good representation or a change to better representation.

- Mr. (I use that term loosely) Alan Patton who evidently has a weakness for children’s urine. The police in a city not far from my own reported that Patton is addicted to the stuff much like a “crack or cocaine addict.” But, by far, the most interesting statement Patton made was that drinking the yellow stuff makes him feel like he’s “drinking their youth.” Maybe this guy is the reason my mom always told me not to eat the yellow snow.

- Mr. Peter Hickock who managed to get a confirmed .345 blood-alcohol level. I will venture a guess that several of us have achieved such a rate, however, we have never actually had the police record such a level. Luckily for him it takes a .35 to go into a coma. Hickock’s (sharing a name with a famous cowboy alcohol slinger, Wild Bill) problems only begin there. Apparently his five-year-old daughter phoned 911, which means he will probably go away for child endangerment. Where was the girl’s mother, you ask? Why she was in Hawaii of course, probably far away from nice frozen drinks served in a pineapple.

- Ms. Melissa Cheeney who jumped a five-month pregnant referee. The game: city sponsored basketball league for 10 and 11-year old boys. The situation: pregnant ref and some bad calls. The beat down: Cheeney grabbed the ref by her hair, threw her to the ground, and kicked her several times. It is reported that the baby is doing fine. I have an issue with the director of the league. He is reported as saying that basketball is not about whether you win or lose but only about the kids having a positive experience. While I agree that the kids should play to have fun I am reminded of a quote I once heard, “It isn’t about whether you win or lose as long as I win.”

- Ms. Sharen Gravelle who kept her special needs children in cages. This woman is in some serious need of better representation. She testified IN COURT that these kids requested that she build these cages for them to sleep in. Yeah lady, we believe that special needs children would want to be in cages, and even if they did request it, THEY ARE SPECIAL NEEDS KIDS and YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER. The important part of this case is the ridiculous legal advice her attorney is giving her. How could this attorney put her on the stand to testify about something as incriminating as that? Here’s the kicker, her attorney, a Mr. Ken Myers, asked her the question. If I were the judge, “Ms. Gravelle I think you should find another attorney because this guy just plain sucks.”

- Mr. Joran van der Sloot who was(is?) a major suspect in the Natalee Holloway disappearance goes On the Record with Greta. I just have to say that this kid needs to find a better lawyer. Does this kid not have someone advising him that it is stupid to go onto a show with a former prosecutor who is going to twist and bend every word that you say in front of a worldwide audience? Greta, who I have a personal distaste for, asked him questions like, “Were you still feeling the effects of that one drink you had at noon when you met up with Natalee and her friends at 10 pm?” Certainly sounds like he wasn’t drunk to me, but then again I’m not trying to find someone to fry for Ms. Holloway’s disappearance.

Straight Butter Goin' Yard

This basketball clip is a few weeks old, but it's still inspirational. An autistic waterboy gets put in a high school game and ends up scoring 20 points in 4 minutes. He gets 18 of those points off of 3-pointers. Take note of the reaction from the crowd and his teammates. Maybe we could get this Radio-Rudy to play for Carolina?



Who cares about hoops anyway.. it's baseball season. This weekend will be pitting the (#9) Yardcocks against the (#1) Clemson Terriers in a two game series. Both of these teams are powerhouses in collegiate baseball and should be making trips to Omaha this season. It's all going to come down to this: Can Clemson's defense (team ERA of .83) hold USC's offense (which scored 33 runs last weekend)?

Can't make the trip to the Sarge? Click here for a live video feed of Saturday's 1:30 matchup.