tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57821367517330465912024-02-20T12:41:09.872-08:00Ramblings of a BenBen Richardson's official BlogBenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-82878127898469078792010-03-27T08:44:00.000-07:002010-03-27T09:08:27.748-07:00The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... The Rest of Season One<div style="font-family: verdana;" class="blogSubject"> <span style="font-size:100%;">*Originally Posted May, 2007*<br /><br /></span></div> <!--- blog body ---> <p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"> <span style="font-size:100%;"><b style=""><o:p></o:p></b>Hello all! I hope that all of you have enjoyed the previous Galaxy Dollars blog dealios... but I thought it was time to finally wrap up this purticular Galaxy Dollars Coffee saga... So here we stand at the last chapter in the "Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team" blog dealio. But don't fret, be sad... or anything else that involves not... happiness. For there will be more Galaxy Dollar blogs in the future to lift your chin, your spirits and... your car? But until then enjoy, "The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... The Rest of Season One".</span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>We were one game in, and it was already a long season... With the smashing defeat of our first game so fresh on our minds all we could do was make excuses about how they won. Ranging from rumors that they cheated to... they won because they had jerseys. The rumors of no sense started to pile up, and I guess no one stopped to think for a moment that <u>we</u> were why we lost! Yes us, with our bad playing skills, blue shin guards, and balding player. But deep down, I had a feeling that we all knew the truth... we just didn't want to say it. With the seasons start practices ceased, and it was now up to each individual to better his or her self on the field... right. The outcomes of the next three games we played were no different from the first, what with the: moderate to horrible losses, lack of deodorant usage, and wearing white t-shirts because we still had no real jerseys.</span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>We knew something had to change... and it did. Our jerseys came in! It was true, I received a call from Singing Soccer Face telling me of the good news that our white jerseys had come in. Unfortunately, that news was proceeded with the news that the sizes of the jerseys were wrong and they would be as tight as a... tight piece of clothing. And indeed they were... We tried to get the company that sent us the wrong sizes to fix their problem, but they said it would take a little time before they were able to get the new sizes to us. Nevertheless, we the players of the team, thought that the jerseys would help us of the field. So, for the next four games we played with the uncomfortably tight jerseys... which was fine for the girls of the team...*ahem*... <span style=""> </span>because most women wear their shirts tight anyway. But for the guys... well, it felt like we were... not straight. (not that there's anything wrong with that) </span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>As you may have figured out by now we lost all of the aforementioned games. For the players of the team it was beginning to be a painful thing to go to soccer night. Mostly because it always had the same outcome... Show up pumped, start the game... leave with another loss. We were now 0-8, and the hope that burned bright at the beginning of the season was about gone. Every time we would step foot on the field the other team knew they were walking out with a victory... The problem was... <u>we</u> didn't know, and that's what hurt. Then it happened... The break we had been waiting for! The balding player started to grow hair! j/k... Our new, <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">new jerseys</st1:state></st1:place><st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on"> </st1:place></st1:state></span><span style="font-size:100%;">came in! These, were the right sizes! And what's even better is the fact that they were jet black! Now things would be different, because we were no longer the "Tight jerseyed angelic Galaxy Dollars soccer team"...no, we were now the "Black jerseyed Galaxy Dollars soccer team of death"! The first game we played with the </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">new jerseys</st1:place></st1:state> we won... and not just won, but, really won. 14 to 2 to be exact. But alas, it t'was a fluke... for we didn't win another game for the remainder of the season, we did manage to tie the next game, but that was pretty much it. We ended our season 1-12-1... but we learned so many life lessons that it was all worth it... (a star with a rainbow trail flashes past and reads, "The More You Know")...*darn NBC* </span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>Well, that is the end of season one. Perhaps there will be a season two, but the way we played maybe not. Anyways, thanks for reading..."The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team" blog dealio, check back semi soon for <span style=""> </span>new Galaxy Dollars blog updates!</span></p>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-22003502974475531722010-02-26T10:09:00.000-08:002010-02-26T10:47:55.329-08:00An Irish Punk Band + 6 Guys =<!--- blog subject ---> <div style="font-family: verdana;" class="blogSubject"> <span style="font-size:100%;">*Originally Posted April, 2007"<br /><br /></span></div> <!--- blog body ---> <div style="font-family: verdana;" id="pBlogBody_258946867" class="blogContent"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>A Flogging Molly concert of course! That's right this the tale of the great Flogging Molly trip as told by... well, me. So what should you do now? Well, if I were you I'd punch somebody smaller then you, grab a copy of The Departed, chug a glass of cranberry juice... and read, "An Irish Punk Band + 6 guys ="! So let get to it then!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>It all started on a Thursday afternoon... I had just gotten off of my job at Starbucks, I jumped in my car and headed to the meeting spot we had designated at an earlier time. The spot happened to be the parking lot of the church my brother is custodian of. He wasn't quite done with his work by the time I pulled into the parking lot, so I waited. It's here the story truly begins! As I waited the others started to arrive... from the Gehling boys and Josh Langer, to Jay Prock and at last my brother. We were now ready to embark on the journey. We packed all of our things in the back of Jay's SUV, and piled in. We pulled out of the parking lot, and at long last we were under way to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Tulsa</st1:place></st1:city> for the Flogging Molly concert! The trip there was fun, but somewhat uneventful...*so I'm going to skip to where we arrive in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Tulsa</st1:place></st1:city>* At last we arrived in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Tulsa</st1:place></st1:city>. The plan had been to eat at <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"></st1:place></st1:city></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Kilkenny's Irish Pub</span><strong> </strong><span style="font-size:100%;"><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"></st1:place></st1:city> before the show, so we did... and it was good. That is all. We left <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Kilkenny's</st1:place></st1:city> full of... food, and drink... and it was now time to arrive at the concert.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>We arrived at the concert with plenty of time to spare. We found a good parking space, got out of the vehicle, and walked towards the pavilion. It was here we found out that maybe we didn't belong at this concert. As we walked by, we noticed hundreds and hundreds of people dressed in gothic green and black clothing. Many of which looked high, drunk or just plain ugly from being in a countless number of fights. Now there would be nothing wrong with the above statement, if we too were... dressed in gothic green and black clothing, were high, drunk, or had been in <u>a</u> fight. But the problem was hadn't been in, or had on any of the above... so it was awkward. As such, as we walked to the end of the waiting line we noticed dozens of faces looking at us with the, "what the h*ll are they doing here?" look. (and of course the "*" in the previous sentence was an "i") But we didn't sway from the straight and narrow... or umm, line... and held our own. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>Finally they let us in. The first of three opening bands appeared on stage... the name of which was, "The Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band". The moment they started to play we knew two things, One: It was going to be a long night if all the opening bands sucked this bad, and Two: We were not going to be able to hear by the end of the night. Something else we noticed was once the music started everyone seemed to come together, and not care what you looked like, or what you were wearing. Well, it was indeed a long wait for Flogging Molly. With the opening bands ranging from crap, to pretty ok; we waited not so patiently for Flogging Molly to come to the stage. Finally they did. It was great! Not only was the music good, but the people who were there were entertaining too. You see, this Irish guy in front of us (who was inebriated) would keep turning around and ask, "Are you Irish?" to which you answer, "yes." To which he would reply, "God bless you!" then give you a hug... This happened quite a few times until my good friend Josh Langer turned the tables on him.We saw him coming back for another round of "Are you Irish?" when Josh grabbed him and said, "Are <u>you</u> Irish?" to which he replied, "Yep, don't let the black hair fool ya"... Classic!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>Finally the concert ended and we headed to our lodging for the evening. We woke up the next morning only to discover we still couldn't hear... oh, and we were hungry. We packed up all our stuff and looked for a place to eat. We came upon a doughnut shop and decided to get some... doughnuts. We walked inside only to hear the old lady running it say, "Oh, Shit" about us coming in. As we tried to order she would bark orders and make demands that were not hers to make. At one point even grabbing the hand of one of the Gehling boys as she gave him his change. Of course it wouldn't be a complete trip unless I came up with a smart ass comment for her. So, as my brother received a text message from his girlfriend the old lady said briskly, "What's that noise?! Is that a cell phone?!" To which I replied, " Ya it is, I mean that's okay right? I mean I didn't see a "No Cell Phones Allowed" sign as we came in!" She had no response. I had won... that round. We left the "doughnut shop of doom" and headed home. The trip back was fun, but somewhat uneventful...*So, I'm going to skip to OKC*... finally we arrived back in good ol' OKC... the end.</span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-63816751166327674722010-02-10T22:44:00.000-08:002010-02-26T11:09:36.630-08:00The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... The First Game<!--- blog body ---> <div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_253500258" style="font-family:verdana;"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">*Originally Posted April, 2007*<br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Hello again everyone, and welcome to the, "Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team" blog dealio! Now before we move on, I will quickly recap...The peoples of Galaxy Dollars Coffee decided to start a soccer team. We signed up in a beginners league, that for all we knew was comprised of little kids. We began our soccer training only to find out we stank the joint up... bad. We practiced more only to find that one of our players was going bald...(not sure what that has to do with the story, but it's true.) and that we liked to drink water as much as chai... So now, we will turn another page in the story that's captivating the world---umm... a nation---... a city---hmm... a store? Ahh! The story that's captivating... various friends and strangers! So now we dive in to..."The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... The First Game"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>We had practiced, we had swat... sweated, whatever. We had even gotten a little bit better. But now was the moment of truth... the first game was here! All of us showed up to the arena ridiculously early to put on their "gear" (i.e. shin-guards, soccer shoes etc.). As for me, I got there early as well, and it turns out it was a good thing too... for as I noticed everyone putting on their "gear", I also noticed that I didn't have "gear" to put on... In fact I looked like a soccer reject. Fortunately for me there was a "soccer pro shop" <span> </span>in which I could buy the things I needed in which to not die on the field. I walked in the door of the pro shop and just stood there... like... well, ...a standing guy. Now, I'd like to tell you that I was soaking up all that soccer "karma" of awesome soccer players past and forgotten, but that would be a lie, so I won't. No the sad truth was, I was standing there in the doorway of the pro shop and two things were on my mind... One: "Should I get the red or the blue shin guards?" and Two: These shorts don't have pockets... so, where is my wallet?" Shortly there after I looked down and thought to myself "blue is more manly-er, I'll go with blue."...and remembered that I had stuck my wallet between my shorts and underpants at the waist just for such an occasion... so all was well.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I bought all the gear I needed, put it on, and paced back and forth in front of my teammates to pretend I was ready. The time was finally here... they called us to the field. Once we got there we quickly realized a differences in teams. For one, they weren't kids... for two, they had jerseys... we had white t-shirts. (But at least that was due to the fact that ours just hadn't come in yet...) For three, they were actually passing the ball to one another... we were not. We were like... hey, it's coming to you! We'd kick it, and it would go the opposite way... and we were like, umm... I did that on purpose. It was a fake out, great for those moments you want to... umm, fake out your opponent... and your teammate.</span></p> <div style="text-align: right;"> <div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span roman="" new="" times="" style="font-size:12px;"> The game started. As the game progressed we realized more differences between the teams... like their players... they actually knew where to be on the field. As for us, we were like a fluttering butterfly floating all over the field, because we didn't know what the crap we were doing... another thing we noticed was when they would shoot, for one we dove out of the way, but for two their shots were good, hard hit, and... well, really good. Ours? Ya, maybe would trickle an inch or two on the ground while a snail scurried out of the way. After the massacre was over we realized one more thing... I forgot to wear deodorant! j/k... we realized that one player on their team single handedly beat the ever living doughnuts out of us (that is if doughnuts were inside of us, and somehow a living entity). His name I will remember for at least days to come... Renaldo. A short stocky bald man of soccer awesomeness is what he was. Scoring 10 of their 14 points... one might say he was a bit like the Michael Jordan of soccer... that, or we were like the Toronto Raptors of soccer (to all those who don't know, they suck... bad.). No one could tell for sure... but what we could tell for sure was this was going to be a long season...<br /><br />Check back next time to see if the Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team wins a game, the balding player regains his hair, and if Ben really didn't wear deodorant to the game... these answers and more... next time on, "The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team" blog dealio!</span></span></div></div></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-7615245991780646462010-02-02T00:20:00.000-08:002010-02-02T00:25:19.144-08:00Bye Bye Birdie: From Training to Casting... And Everything in Between<!--- blog body ---> <div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_247220870" style="font-family:verdana;"> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Why hello to everyone out there in the wonderful world of the web! I know you all were just losing sleep over the fact that you wanted to read another Ben blog and there was no new materiel in which to indulge ones self...so you reached for your iPods and remote controls... but at long last the blog is here, so you can relax and read...stuff. Let's dive in.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>The Training<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Alright, to correctly tell this story, you must first know a couple of things that make it more interesting... Like what you ask? Like the fact that I really hadn't sang "Broadway" type songs in over a year, like the fact that this was my first audition in over a year... And if I got cast, it would be the first show I've been in since Brighton Beach Memoirs with City Rep in 2005... So, with that in mind I prepared. I sat in my car listening to "Eye of the Tiger"... then realized that this was not going to get my singing voice back in shape... so I took it out, and put on some old lame voice rehearsal tapes that I had found collecting dust, and starting singing along with it (if you could call what I was doing singing). I'm not going to lie, I pretty much sucked at first... sounding more a dying baby lion then a young man. But I was eager to improve, and with time I did. After a hard day of training my voice I would eat some ice cream... put some whip cream on there and consume it all! I'm not sure what this has to do with anything, but ya. So, really with all the practicing I had been doing there was but one thing to do... wait for auditions.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>The Audition<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>The morning of auditions come fast... I walked inside and soon I found myself surrounded with familiar places, and nervous but smiling faces... and quickly remembered why I loved acting so much. I filled out the paperwork and was whisked away into the theatre to learn the dance. One thing I had not practiced was dancing... the reasons for this being... A: I fill like a big, tall, thin dork when I dance Broadway stuff in front of people... and B: I didn't really have much to learn from... So, when I saw the dance we had to do I went right to work! I stepped to the left, I stepped to the right... something was wrong. Yes, that was it... I cared what people thought of how I looked... So, I threw that aside and went for the gusto! And it worked! In no time I was dealing fifties moves like there was no tomorrow. I finished learning the dance, got my things, and moved to door number two. In door number two I learned the dance really fast... and... waited! Which is of course my all time favorite thing to do at auditions. Finally I went in to the audition for the Director. I aced the dance and my song, boo ya! He walked over to several sheets of paper and picked a half dozen, and walks up to me. He says, "I want you to come back to call backs for Albert and Birdie. Learn these monologues and songs by the date of call backs." Well, after great news like that there is only one thing to do... go to work. And of course prepare for call backs.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>The Call Backs<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Call backs came as quickly as auditions did, and I felt ready to be... the person I was supposed to be... or whatever. I got there when they asked me to and waited... and waited... and waited. Two hours, three jugs of water, and a trip to the bathroom later I was called to do what I do best... be a ham. I went back there and gave it my best shot for both roles, and I felt confident too. I left call backs that night doing the only I could now do... wait. The next day while I was at work I received a message from the Director asking me to please call him back. So while I was on my lunch break I called him back. I got his voicemail... that did it. My appetite left... I had to know why he called. I ended my meal and headed back to my place of employment. My phone rings... I reach franticly for it, it's the Director. I answer, we make small talk... then he offers me the role of Conrad Birdie! To which I naturally graciously accepted! The end. btw the show will run the end of July through the beginning of August... I will give more details when the show gets closer.</span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-60869573725044208632010-01-27T09:09:00.000-08:002010-01-27T09:46:49.132-08:00The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... Meet the Players (2 of 2)<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Originally Posted March, 2007*<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Well hello to all! At last it's true... After the long, tearful, and (for some) beard growing wait. "The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... Meet the Players (2 of 2)" is finally here! For you... the peoples... to read... <b>Commercial interruption!!!!</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><br /></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">...Or listen to on our brand new 2 audio cassette tapes gift pack! Tell'em Rob! That's right, available for a limited time only these tapes of Galaxy Dollar mastery can be yours for the low introductory price of... 3 easy payments of $29.99!!! Want yours today?! Call 1-800-4-IM-A-SAP, and have your credit cards ready! Thanks Rob, and don't forget our tagline folks!, "You too can astonish your friends and family with useless Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team information!"...so buy three today!... <b>Now back to your regularly scheduled blogging...</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">...*ahem*... like I was saying it is finally here for you... the peoples... to read... and stuff. So! With that being said... Put on your favorite pair of pants, use the bathroom, and pick up that half eaten bag of Cheetos sitting on the floor next to you... and read, "The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... Meet the Players (2 of 2)"!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">FUN AND (MAYBE) USEFUL INFORMATION:</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span> </span></b>One last thing before you dig into that bag of Cheetos—I mean the blog... As a little extra fun, I had enough forethought in writing these that in either this, or the last installment of the "Meet the Players" blog dealios I wrote a character in "third person" that is really me. So, see if you can guess which character is actually me, and how I played soccer! (remember it can be in this blog, or part one) If you think you know which one is me, put your guess in your blog comment, or I suppose you can message me. And I will let you know if your are right of not.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p><br /><br /><br /></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>The Pillsbury Soccer Girl</b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Alright, so for the second part of this blog dealio I thought we'd start off with, The Pillsbury Soccer Girl. Why do I call her this you may wonder? Well, the reason is, is that every time she kicks the soccer ball, or someone pokes her she goes, hee-hee! And all though I know the Pillsbury dough boy goes, "hoo-hoo!" and not "hee-hee" I don't really care. She does share other similarities with the dough boy as well... Now I don't know if you've ever noticed, but the dough boy frolics... And she, like the dough boy, seems to frolic from place to place. It's not that she's that graceful, but there's just no other way to put it...i t's a frolic. So, between the, "hee-hees!", and the frolicking the other team sometimes just looks at her instead of guarding her... This in turn gives The Pillsbury Soccer Girl the opportunity she needs to score a goal... or miss (which is more actuate). well, sometimes it works... But even if she does miss, she just frolics her Pillsbury Soccer self right on down the field until the next time she gets to try and score, and shout, "hee-hee!"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>I Think I'm Good Face<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span> </span></b>Ok, now we come to the one I like to call, I Think I'm Good Face. Why shell we call him this? Well, it's because in his mind he is God's gift to us on the soccer field. In reality... he's not even close. In fact, if you're going to compare him with a gift I'd be more likely to compare him with crap... Ahh, yes... the gift of crap. It's on everyone's list! Actually, I would say that his talent level rivals that of a... rabbit. Yes, a soccer playing rabbit. He's all over the place, legs hopping everywhere... kicking at everything... shooting from our own goal box... telling his teammates, "how hot the other team's women are"...*ahem*. But, yes, that's it. That's all he does... in fact here's a little stat for all of you to feast upon... He has never once: scored a goal, passed the ball, or gotten a date with an opposing teams girl... see what I mean? <u>I</u> Think I'm Good Face... I mean even George Costanza even got a date from time to time...*shakes head in shame*</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>The Blond Guy That's Not That Good<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Alright next we come to The Blond Guy That's Not That Good... So why would I name him The Blond Guy That's Not That Good?<span> </span>Well, as his name would suggest, he's blond, and not that good... hints the name The Blond Guy That's Not That Good. The fact is, it is very frustrating to play with him because sometimes I think you could lay a piece of crap of the ground in his place and no one would notice that he's not the piece of crap... You see, it's the same routine every time... he gets there all energized and goes through the motions of thinking he's really getting pumped up (I swear he does this to Weird Al's "White and Nerdy"), he gets mentally ready to beat the other team... then stands on the field like... well... a piece of poop. The sadder thing is, is that at the end of the game he really thinks he contributed to the team in some measurable way, when in reality the game had ended 30 minutes ago, and he's just waking up from his state of comatose. "Let's get pizza! Any one up for some pizza?"...umm, no The Blond Guy That's Not That Good, we're all going home... we're tired, we actually played hard. I have nothing else to say on this matter... PS: He's dopey looking, really.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>The Iron Horsett<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span> </span></b>Here we come to The Iron Horsett. So why do I call her this? Well, because I thought "The Italian Stallionett" was a bit cheesy... Besides I think this has a good ring to it. She, like The Italian Stallion, knows how to handle herself (on and off the field) Off the field, she is most of the time an awesome person to be around, but on the field she's like a train on a mission to get to it's destination... In this case the destination is the ball. If you have her "destination" I do heavily advise you to get out of harms way (because Harm's a nice guy, so cut him a break...j/k)...But really, I do advise getting out of her path! Only if you value your life though... if you don't you're fine. The fact is, she is quite serious about getting the ball... maybe too serious. Not one to back down from a fight of any kind, The Iron Horsett will get that ball away from you anyway she can... whether that means knocking you unconscious, impairing your senses permanently... or even if it means black-mailing your mom (you hear a hush in the background)... so don't mess with her.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Defense Girl<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span> </span></b>Ok, next we come to Defense Girl, as her name might suggest she likes to play defense... maybe too much. How much is to much you may be asking? Well, when you're subbed in on offense and your team has the ball... and she starts yelling, "Someone get on offense! I don't want to be on offense! Here, switch me! Be on offense!" I think there might be a problem. It's not that she's bad...i n fact she's quite good at defense, but this might be taking it a little far. I mean I like to be where I'm going to play the best I can too... it's just a little funny sometimes how serious she takes it. (I mean after a loss one time I swear I saw her tare into the ref for a call he made in the first half, while blinking!...j/k) What is even funnier is when she's not in the game...(I'm not being mean... Just read on...) She'll stand on top of the bench, like a parrot might perch on top of a pirate's ship... and she'll scope. Giving us second by second direction... "So and so is open! Pass to So-forth! Quick, get rid of the ball!, Do you need a sub? You look tired!" I fill somewhat like I have my own personal little "air traffic reporter". All in all I think most of the time it works pretty good... When the time come that someone does need a sub, Defense girl comes roaring back out on the field like the "little engine that could" ready to give it her all... so way to go Defense Girl!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Mousey Soccer Face<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Now we come to Mousey Soccer Face... why do I call her this? Well to me she is like a little mouse darting from one and of the field to the other with great stealth... and just like a mouse would, she steals the cheese... well scores... and before you know it she's back in the thick of things trying to get the ball again. Her one major fault is that she gets tired very fast... Now there's nothing wrong with this, but it's the fact that she doesn't sub herself out when she gets tired is the problem... She'll be putting down the field at the speed of crap (yes, crap is a speed... and for those wondering, it's a slow speed), when a player from the bench will shout out, "You need a sub? you look tired!" Mousey Soccer Face sternly turns around a sharply tells them, "No, I'm fine!"...Well, actually you're not... in fact you're doing pretty freakin' bad, and hurting your team because you're too selfish to sub yourself out when you're tired... I guess that makes you a terrible person, and you're in danger of hell fire... So how do you like those apples, eh? I guess if you can disconnect yourself from the situation (which shouldn't be hard for you people since you don't have to play with her) it's pretty funny if you think about it... I mean, she goes out there, she's zooming all around...t hen she slows down to what becomes almost a person playing in slow motion...hhhheeeerrrreeee, ppppaaaassssssss mmmmeeee tttthhhheeee bbbbaaaallllllll!!!!!!!!! Ha, ha, ha, that is kinda funny.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>The Bipper<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Now we come to, who I would call, one of the most entertaining players on the team, The Bipper! So why is his name be The Bipper? Well, because it's his word... Bip... he says it all the time! I mean if you had a word that you said all the time wouldn't you like to have it be your nick-name? Like... if your word was "dag" for instance, you would be, The Dagger! Oh! Or, if it was..."crap" for instance, you would be...The Crapper! Isn't that awesome?... I thought so too. Another question you may be asking is, "How is he entertaining?" Great question! You're a very attentive reading audience! Well, there are many ways The Bipper is entertaining... First, every time we score he chants, FOAM!! F-O-A-M!!!... to rally the team. Second, he runs around kicking violently at the ball in hopes of sending it sailing toward the other goal... and by violently, I mean violently! He could easily be called for that one violation for "having your leg too high" (picture me using quotation marks with my fingers) like every time he kicks the ball... But of course, as with every violent kicker, there is two outcomes... One: It does indeed sail toward the other goal, and he gets an "at-a-boy" from the team... or Two: He misses all together and the ball goes sailing right on by him... Usually it's the latter of these two... but he does everything with such grace and lively-ness that you just can't help yourself from cheering him on! I'm telling all this guy need do is start a clothing line called, "bip"...or perhaps, "The Bipper Presents:"...you know something like that. I'm telling you, he'd be rich.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Limping Girl <o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span> </span></b>Next we are brought to Limping Girl. As to why she is called this should be a no brainier... but to those of you reading this with an IQ of 40 or lower I will tell you... It's because she limps! (one person reading this just had an epiphany)... Now as to why she is even playing soccer in the first place is a complete mystery to me... but she does none-the-less. If you can even call what she does playing that is... You see though, Limping Girl wasn't always Limping Girl... in fact we could even call Pre-Limping Girl... Violet. Yes, Violet... why Violet?... because that is the most random thing I could come up with on the fly... So how did this "limp" start in the first place you ask? Well, it was in the second practice we ever had... she was running... and running... and running... then bam! Somehow her foot just decided to catch it's self on the grass. Pain gripped her, and she told us she needed to leave... Ever since that day Violet was but a memory... and faded into who we now know as Limping Girl. Now, one would think that if you injure yourself you would let it heal before you play again, right? well, not if you're Limping Girl... No, instead of letting the injury get better she would play on the "bad leg". What this meant was... A: She was in pain while she played... B: She sucked, badly. and C: You wanted to tell her to get the crap off the field because of A and B... Now a part of me felt a little bad for her, but not really... because I really wanted her to admit she was in pain and get the crap off the field... but that never happened. So we who were on the bench just sat there in agony, not because we felt her pain, but because watching her play so badly caused us such pain.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p><b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Inconsistent Soccer Man<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span> </span></b>Finally, we will end this meeting of the players with Inconsistent Soccer <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Man.</st1:state></st1:place> Why do I call him this?<span> </span>Well, for starters he's inconsistent (go figure)...One night he'll be playing with the skill of a thousand—a hundred— well, a couple of men... the next night he is playing with the skill of a dead giraffe. Now don't get me wrong... it's not that he gets in a lethargic state or anything... in fact he's always brimming with energy. It's just sometimes he's a little bit better then other times. For intense, when he's playing with the skill of a couple of men... he can pass the ball well, guard the best of opponents, and shoot the ball with the kind of velocity that would take a guys chest hair off... On the other hand, when he's playing with the skill of a dead giraffe... he's passing the ball to the other team, all over the field instead of staying in his position, and the velocity that he shoots with when he's playing when the skill of a couple of men is no more... Instead, when he shoots in this state, the ball seems to trickle toward the goal... In fact I think one time the goalie took a nap, woke up, and still saved it! One other thing that Inconsistent Soccer Man does, is that he's one of those cheering players... you know, "Guard him, you've got him... don't him get past you!"<span> </span>Like the long distance cheering is really helping him guard the guy... or there's the other thing he likes to do... tell us we can catch up when there's no possible way..."Come on guys, we can do this!"...no we can't, we're 11 goals behind with 3 minutes left in the game... we're toast. He was the original one to come up with the yelling FOAM! F-O-A-M!! after we scored a goal, but The Bipper perfected it, so he doesn't get credit for that one anymore... If I think about it I guess he's just trying to keep everything positive, which is fine... it's just it can get ones nerves.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Well, I hope that "The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... Meet the Players (2 of 2) was everything you expected it to be and more! And be sure to check back for the newest "Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team" blog dealio, to come sooner then later!</span></p>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-19122202083733786032010-01-23T12:46:00.000-08:002010-02-26T10:57:43.488-08:00The Valentine's Day Stereotype Countdown Blog<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Editor's Note*</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"> Originally Posted in February, 2007 this blog of stereotypes has it's ups and downs. But overall I believe that it shines through as an enduring piece of random literature that lifts the spirit, and umm... soothes the soul?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;">____________________________________________________________________<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Well hello to everyone out there reading this! It would seem that it's that time of the year again... Valentine's Day. Yes Valentine's Day, the day more people get: teddy bears, heart shaped candy, and laid then any other day of the year (well, it's true). If you're single you'd almost think that this festive holiday of love comes more then once a year, but it doesn't. Now I know nobody reading this is single, and/or in need of something to take your mind off/ cheer you up of the fact that it is Valentine's Day... But I thought that I might as well do something for the precious few that will feel lonely, unloved, and suicidal. That's why I have written "The Valentine's Day Stereotype Countdown Blog", what it is... is an extravaganza of stereotypes of today's society (the top 10 to be exact... in no order), and the top 5 things they could do this Valentine's Day if they're single... so, read on... and maybe, just maybe this will take your mind off this festive holiday of love... or put you in the mood for tacos... one of the two.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p><b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>If you're...____ you could...<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Emo: </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b>1. Converse with your friends about how the world is a cold and horrible place to live, then in the next minute converse about how you see the beauty in everything.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>2. Watch one of those twisted independent films where the person falls in love, falls out of love, her ex dies, she figures out that she really did love him but it's too late... So she marries the first dip-stick to come along with a decent physique, only to find out he's abusive, then she ends up killing him and lives un-happily ever after in prison... the end. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>3. Shut yourself in your room and write that new hit song, "I Must Be Alone in My Principles, and That's Why I'm Single"... because song titles really are getting this long and ridiculous.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>4. Get some black hair dye, mascara, and a hair straightener, so you can look like a women without having one.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>5. Slit your wrist. (don't really)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p><br /></o:p><b>Musical Theatre/ Drama:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b>1. Everywhere you go just tap dance and sing... you know, like any other normal day in the life of an musical theatre major...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>2. Be in a show... after all some of us are just to busy for love.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>3. Just walk around all day humming the tune... "My Funny Valentine" and hope that someone catches your subtle hint at wanting a companion on this festive holiday of love.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>4. Go to a show with your other single friends and criticize the crap out of it... because A: You're single, and B: You're not in it.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>5. Drink, pass out, and wake up in some box by a dumpster next to a guy with a mo-hawk that does an impression of you, doing him, doing you, doing him... on ten. Isn't that weird? Ya, I thought so.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b><br /><o:p></o:p><b>Nerd:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b>1. Have a Star Wars watching marathon with all your friends... because yes, <u>all</u> of your friends are single.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>2. <span> </span>Play that new Mega Multi Player Online video game that you can supposedly play with your toes!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>3. Go to the local comic book shop and buy the newest issue of "Supergirl", because that's the closest you're actually going to get to an attractive girl.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>4. Create a "virtual girlfriend" computer program.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>5. Hire a... well, you know what... No, not that... a personal trainer.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b><br /><o:p></o:p><b>Prep:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b>1. Go and buy some new clothes... because spending money somehow eases the pain of being single.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>2. <span> </span>Talk on the phone with your best single friend for hours rambling on about how, "you can't believe that piece of slime dumped you a week before Valentine's Day for that other bimbo"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>3. Go to a movie, in a crowded mall, with your crowd of friends... wearing your tight Abercrombie & Fitch pants (guys and girls) and hope that someone you know will spot you on the "social scene" and not think you're a total loser.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>4. Go to a club alone?!... and hope you can sweet talk one of the fellow preppies into being your "fix" for this festive holiday of love.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>5. Do the unthinkable... call a "1-900" number.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p><br /></o:p><b>Skater:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b>1. Skate on a park bench... because to you Valentine's Day is just another day.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>2. Sit around a table and talk to your fellow "dudes" about what's up in the world... besides Valentine's Day.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>3. Spend the whole day searching for that "perfect" jump, and once you find it spend the rest of the day trying to land it in front of cute girls that walk by.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>4. Stay at home and watch, "Grind", but then have to clean your room... because you're 25, still live at home with your parents, and life sucks!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>5. Take your skateboard, and face-plant it into every bozo that you think looks at you funny... because it's Valentine's Day, you're single, and you're not taking crap from anyone!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p><br /><b><o:p></o:p>Hick:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>1. Sit in your 12 in 1 Lazy-Boy like you usually do when it's not Valentine's Day, and never have to move to: eat, sleep, go to the bathroom, watch TV, get a beer, change the channel, work (because you don't a job), talk on the tely-phone, pick your nose, wear plaid shirts, take a "bath", check facebook (if you're a rich hick and have a laptop computer with wi-fi).</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>2. Talk to your "friends" about what's going on in the world... <u>besides</u> Valentine's Day, and politics, and sports, and world peace, and how stuff works... and basically anything that requires brain activity.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>3. Hold up a sign by the side of the road that reads, "Wood u bee mi Velent-nine?!" with your smilin' buck teeth just... umm...*shinning* away.<span> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>4.<span> </span>Just walk up to a girl and carry her off. (what? It worked in "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers")</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>5. On Valentine's Day carry around an axe, and take off the head of the first person that says, "Look, it's a single hick with an axe!"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p><br /></o:p><b>Goth:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b>1. Go to your favorite hang out spot... Hot Topic.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>2. Go to your "Shrink" and talk about how you want to "beat the man", and "stick it to society"... then go to Starbucks and order your frappuccino.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>3. Hang out with your fellow single, pale skinned, weird colored haired friends, and watch something like "Friday the 13th"... because if you watch any of that mushy love crap you're just going to kill someone.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>4. Kill someone. (Don't do this one) </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>5. Ask a prep out on a date?!?! (I suppose you shouldn't actually do this one either)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p><br /></o:p><b>Ghetto:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b>1. Just chill at your "pad".</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>2. Tape some broken flowers together and try to give them to your ex-girlfriend. Saying that for the sake for this "festive holiday of love" you should get back together.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>3. When your ex turns you down, take those same taped flowers and try to give them to random women that you meet... saying, "Come on baby, I taped these just for you!"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>4. Steal a nice car, parade around for the rest of the day in your "pimp-mobile", trying to pick up chicks in your illegitimate ride.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>5. Bust a cap in anyone that looks that you weird... because it's Valentine's Day, your single, and that just ain't right. (restrain yourself from doing this one too)</span></p><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p></o:p></b><o:p></o:p><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><b>Normal</b></st1:city></st1:place><b>:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b>1. Watch a DVD... at home... by yourself.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>2. Sit around with your friends and talk about... what girls/guys you wish you were going out with, and politics, and sports, and world peace, and how stuff works... and basically anything that requires brain activity.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>3. Pretend to lose a contact in front of "Hooter's" and see who comes out to help you look.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>4. Get some Valentine's Day cards, write your phone number on them, and stick them inside every girl you knows mailbox... and wait to see who calls you back first.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>5. Order a "Mail-order Bride"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b><br /><o:p></o:p><b>Religious Crowd:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b>1. Praise the lord that you're <u>still</u> single at age 28...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>2. Just hang around with all your other saved friends that are also waiting for "Mr. Right", and hope that he magically comes to sweep you off your feet... that is if he is: Well dressed, brings flowers, wears the right kind of cologne, isn't too tall or too short, is exactly two years and seven months older then you, and of course he has to be active in the church... if he doesn't meet all of these qualifications, he's already struck out.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>3. Walk up to the hottest girl in church and say, (in an Arnold Schwarzenegger voice) "Thus say-ith the Lord, you are going to marry mee, and we will have several children's... and somehow be related to the Kennedy's... Alright, I'm going to go talk to Sean for a second and give you some time to let this sink in, I'll be back."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>4. Show up at the annual "Christian's Only! Valentine's Day Speed Dating Extravaganza".</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>5. Go out with an "unsaved" person!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" ><o:p><br /></o:p>Unfortunately "Pirate" was currently #11 on the top social stereotypes, so maybe next year...Well that's it for this year's Valentine's Day blog dealio...hopefully it got your mind off of the "festive holiday of love" or put you in the mood for tacos...</span><br /></p>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-51127775694885456362010-01-20T09:26:00.000-08:002010-01-20T10:04:03.701-08:00The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... Meet the Players (1 of 2)<!--- blog body ---> <div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_220052104" style="font-family:verdana;"> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p></o:p></b><span> *Originally Posted January, 2007*</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Well, hello again soccer fans! Now I thought before I dove in to the season of blood, sweat, and pain... it would be a good idea to meet the players of the Galaxy Dollars soccer team. Yes the players that have worked and trained so hard to be moderately good at what they do. Now, due to the fact that there are what some would call a plethora of people of the team, I will have to split this up into two parts. So I ask you now to prepare... get a bowl of ice cream, a box of Oreos, and one of those little personal packs of Kleenex... Why, because you are going to laugh and... cry. Well, maybe laugh hard enough to cry... or maybe you'll stub your toe and cry... at any rate you should cry. So... umm... read on.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">PHONY DISCLAIMER:<b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>This is a phony disclaimer... Any attempt to pass this off as a real disclaimer will almost undoubtedly put you in immediate danger to: kick the bucket, have someone yell, "Oogie-boogie-boo!" at you, or have to watch a women shave her armpits. Yes, any of those... or any other things you can think of that causes death, or indefinite atrophy to ones body... So in other words, don't take this disclaimer seriously. So, on that note I present to you, "The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team...Meet the Players (1 of 2)"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Singing Soccer Face<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span> </span></b>To start this shin-dig off<b> </b>right<b> </b>we'll start this dealio off with a classic... Singing Soccer Face! As some of you may recall if you read the original Galaxy Dollars blog dealio, there was a Singing Barista Face... and to those of you who did read them, yes... Singing Soccer Face, and Singing Barista Face are the same person. On the other hand, to those of you who didn't read the original Galaxy Dollars blog dealios... well... Singing Soccer Face and Singing Barista Face are the same person. There, you're caught up, happy? I thought so. Now back to Singing Soccer Face... As to why he got this nick-name is actually quite irrelevant to how he plays soccer, but it's a cool nick-name none-the-less... So how does he play soccer? Well, half the time he is our flailing goalie, diving one way or the other at almost every ball that comes his way (he likes to dive), even if it's just rolling right to him... Then he promptly sends it (the ball) back out to his usually unsuspecting teammates, whether they're ready for it or not. The other half of the time he is our soccer warrior on a war path of destruction... and by that I mean, he is kicking the ball at the opposing teams goalie continuous times in hope that one will get past. At any rate, he plays with so much passion that you just can't keep yourself from playing with a smile on your face... whether or not it's from the way he runs with such poise and vigor, or the fact that you like to see a guy give his very best whether you're winning, or down by 20 points.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Awkward Runner Girl<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span> </span></b>Alright, now that we're in the thick of things lets continue with Awkward Runner Girl.<span> </span>As you may have deducted the reason I call her this is the fact that she runs somewhat... well... awkwardly. She sprints down the field like I imagine Napoleon Dynamite's creation the Lyger would run... legs all about, but meaning business the whole time. What makes this so funny is the fact that she's actually quite short... so I really don't know how she does it, but never-the-less she does! Now don't get me wrong, it's not that she's a bad player, because she's not... in fact she plays with a lot of heart. Always taking one for the team, whether it's being push down by an opposing player or being hit in places that isn't comfortable for a girl to be hit. So it's not that at all... it's just that... well... you haven't seen the way she runs... Fine, we'll give her the benefit of the doubt, maybe it's the soccer shorts... but somehow I doubt it.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>SoccerBack<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Next we come to the heart and soul of the Galaxy Dollars soccer team, SoccerBack. Now you may be thinking to yourself, "Why in the world did he name him SoccerBack?" Well, I will tell you... you may have heard Justin Timberlake's little tune exclaiming <span> </span>about how he's brought "SexyBack"...well, I'm not too sure he did, but I am here to tell you that this guy... (to the tune of SexyBack) be brinin' "SoccerBack"...ya! SoccerBack flies up and down the field with amazing ball handling skills and shooting accuracy. (If you're still singing what you read to the tune of SexyBack...stop. no, really.) He weaves in and out of heavily populated enemy soccer terrain, and somehow comes out on the other side with the ball in hand... well... on foot. The rest of us stand to his left and to his right hoping that the other team will think that we too are really awesome and guard us and not him... But this doesn't usually happen since the other team is rarely gullible enough to believe our phony attempt to look like we actually know what the heck we're doing. So... SoccerBack ends up doing what he does best... He brings SoccerBack...ya!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Soccer Players Gone Wild Man<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Now we are lead to who I would call the 2<sup>nd</sup> best player on the team... Soccer Players Gone Wild Man... Now why I call him this on the soccer field will require a little explaining, but I mean I'm not going anywhere, and you're not going anywhere... so hey, I'll break it down for you. Well, the fact is one would think from talking to this man on the job that he is an easy going and well mannered person... Well, he might be that way on the job, but let me tell you on the field this man is a soccer-a-holic... Zipping from one end of the field to the other in a flash! At work I didn't even know the man was mobile! Just creative... Let me tell you one thing, after seeing him play this way, if I had beat him up as a young child I would have pleaded for forgiveness from him for fear that he'd open a can of, "Kick the Crap out of Ben o' Beans" on me... Well, I do believe that's about all you need to know about Soccer Players Gone Wild Man, so on we go!</span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Bossy Pants Women Face<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span> </span></b>Now we come to Bossy Pants Women Face. So why did I name her this you ask? Well, it's quite simple actually... She is bossy, I'm sure sometimes she wears pants, and she has the face of a women... Now I will say that digging a little deeper into the entity that is Bossy Pants Women Face is a little more difficult, but I will try. Bossy Pants Women Face is a complex creature... as her husband would probably tell you on a back street in a dark ally-way (so as not to be seen by his significant other, for those of you who missed the intended pun). Yes, she is complex indeed... Off the field a genuinely nice person to talk to... On the field... on the field (no I did not just stutter, I repeated for dramatic effect...) she is... well... a Bossy Pants Women Face! Telling you how to do this, and how to do that... when her herself isn't even doing it! This my friends, and complete strangers rubs me the wrong way... I mean if you're going to tell me what to do, you better dang well be doing yourself be golly! So, some of you may be asking, "How do you deal with this?"...good question, I will answer. The truth is, is when she does this bossy thing to me... I simply play dumb, and answer something like this... "What? Kick the ball? How do I do that? Quick help me!"<span> </span>What's sad is sometimes she thinks I'm serious... "Well, you're going to kick the ball with the inside of your foot, and aim the best you can."...all in all I guess it's kind of humorous to have her on the team, I guess she can stay.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Sweet Soccer Starlet<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>So next we come to one of the most considerate, well mannered people on the team... Sweet Soccer Starlet. I know, I know you don't have to tell me... this was a sweet use of alliteration</span><span style="font-size:100%;">...Ha! I'm so artsy-fartsy! ...*ahem*...I don't know what happened... I guess the spirit of Niles Crane was upon me. I hope that never happens again, and I sure hope I never say the words "artsy-fartsy" again. Anyway, Sweet Soccer Starlet is the one that is the all around pretty good player... and because she's so easy going many on the team believe that you could tell her to do petty much anything, and she'll just do it... I will give you a few examples of what one might say to her, and her "would be" answers... Person A: "Hey Sweet Soccer Starlet, play defense!" Sweet Soccer Starlet: " Ok, you got it!". Person B: "Get back on the bench, you're not doing so hot!" Sweet Soccer Starlet: "You bet, no problem!" Person 3: "Your mom goes to college...". <span> </span>Sweet Soccer Starlet: "Drop dead..." I guess she likes her mom. At any rate she's fun to play with, and a decent player to boot.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Insecure Soccer Player Man<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span> </span></b>Well alrighty then... now we come to Insecure Soccer Player Man. Now why would I name him this you ask? Well gee, let me think... could it be because when he gets the ball he just stands there like a deer in headlights... like he's unsure of what to do with the ball. I mean it's soccer... you kick it. That's it, that's the whole object... Ask Bossy Pants Women Face she'll tell you. I mean even if you suck at doing it you are aware of what to do. But not if you're Insecure Soccer Player Man. No, if you're Insecure Soccer Player Man, you stand there... and wait... and wait... and wait some more, until the other team comes and takes the ball from you. Of course that's followed be his trademark, "Man, I'm sorry guys... I don't know what happened?!" I know what happened, you suck. In fact I'd say that every time he gets the ball in his possession that there's a better chance of Michael Jackson turning back into a good looking black man... then him getting the ball past mid-court. Yes, I know that's probably a little<span> </span>bit harsh... but please, for the love of doughnuts, when you get the ball... don't just stand there... kick it!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Hot or Not Face<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span> </span></b>Ok, now we come to Hot or Not Face. So why would I name her this? Well, she is arguably one of our best players... Arguably because as her name plainly states she's either hot... or she's not. Not in the anatomic way, but in the, "Her game is on... or off" way. Now when her game is on, the short little foreign girl almost can't be stopped... Kicking the ball into the goal, passing with amazing accuracy, and just plain terrorizing the other team. But when she's not on... oh, boy... let me tell you. She can't keep the ball without losing it, all her "shots on goal" are more like "shots on the 2<sup>nd</sup> guy from the right of the goal" (not that I have any room to talk), and her passing is... well... I wouldn't even call it passing. One other thing about Hot or Not Face is that you can tell if she's on or not purely be listening to her... If she's on she's always yelling something like, "Good job guys, keep it up!" in her thickly accented voice, or yelling some put down to the team in some South American language... But when she's off... the words, and the tone of them are a bit different... Shouting things like, "What kind of call was that! F-ing blind ref! I'm just going to go home, I don't have to take crap like this!" Then going off again in a language I can't understand... but I can be sure of one thing, when she's yelling in her foreign language (when in a bad mood) ...She's not inviting you over for tea and crumpets.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Goalie Guy<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Alrighty then, <span> </span>now we come to Goalie Guy... As his name might suggest, he was our goalie the other half of the time Singing Soccer Face wasn't (deep I know). Goalie Guy is a little bit more kouthful then Singing Soccer Face when playing goalie. He effortlessly snatches balls out of the sky, the ground, and yes... even heads! ...I guess. I don't know... in fact I really doubt it, but it sounded cool to write. Really, if you think about it there's not<span> </span>much more someone can say about a goalie then what I've already said, except that... well... he saved our bacon multiple times... not real bacon of course... more like... ball bacon... well just balls... he saved our balls... soccer balls. oh, I give up.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p><br /></o:p><b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Italian Stallion Face<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Okie-dokie...Now we come to the last person for this installment, Italian Stallion Face... First, I'd like to say... no, this is not about me, and as you continue to read you will figure out very quickly it could never be me... Second, to the wise-acres still laughing because when you read the title of this person all you could think about was my nose... I hope you wake in the morning with a zit so big, that scientists have to name it Mt. Zittola. So, why <u>do</u> I call Italian Stallion Face, Italian Stallion Face? Two reasons... One: He has a lot of heart... some might say the heart of a stallion. (I know, I know... boo.) Two: I don't care who or what you are, you see this guy heading toward, you are...A: Getting or have gotten out of dodge, or B: A spot on the AstroTurf that maintenance gets to clean up later. Another talent that Italian Stallion Face has is his kick. It, like him when he's running is a force to be reckoned with! I swear if he kicked someone in the head just right they'd either die, or immediately think they're Pinky, from Pinky and the Brain, and start saying deep intellectual things like "narf, and "poit"... You know, I hope the latter of these two happens some time, because I think it'd be really funny to see someone yelling "narf" after getting hit in the head with a ball...</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Well, that does it for "The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team...Meet the Players (1 of 2)". Check back next time for part 2 with all of the remaining players on the team!</span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-23508056841197395722010-01-18T16:35:00.000-08:002010-01-18T16:46:01.787-08:00Opening Night<!--- blog body ---> <div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_212682163" style="font-family:verdana;"> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Originally Posted January, 2007*<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> Why a pleasant hello to all, and to all a....well...pleasant hello. It tis' a new year, and with this new year of course comes new stories. So what is this story about you may be wondering? Well, it's about the Oklahoma City Opening Night New Year's Eve Party! and the adventures there of...*whew*... say that 5 times fast with a mouth full of turkey. Can't do it can you?... So anyway, with no more ado here is that story.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Now to start this story off properly you have to go back as far as October, for that is when I signed up to help volunteer with Galaxy Dollars Coffee for this year's Opening Night New Year's Eve party. Now at first when I signed up I was like, "Hey, I'm going to do some good here!" But shortly there after I started to ponder if I had done a wise thing by giving up my precious holiday evening. You may be asking yourself right now, why did he sign up for it in the first place if he was going to want out of it? Well you see, that answer consists of two parts... One, back in October I had nothing going on, on this festive evening, so it was fine and dandy... and Two, I found out <u>later</u> (and underline later... oh, I already did, forget it.) that I would be watching little children all night. As the night approached I started to receive invitations to events and what-not... and let me tell you, it was hard turning down "what-not"! After all this I realized that I had indeed made a grave mistake by giving up my precious holiday evening, but it was to late to back out on the person now... so to Opening Night I went.</span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>I showed up downtown right on schedule for where I was going... Now I was prepared for the volume of people that were downtown, but the parking... the parking was just... well... crap. One would think that perhaps they might have an area for volunteers to park, or perhaps a shuttle to take you where you need to go, or at very least that you wouldn't have to pay for parking because you're volunteering... but no, no to all the above. Not only no to all the above, but they had police watching the free parking at movie theater so that people who weren't going to see a movie had to leave the lot, and park elsewhere. Me, I wasn't about to pay for parking, and as my friend Josh Langer would agree with me a hundred percent on I'm sure... I had to find a free parking space. So, I did what any cheap, stingy, college aged guy would do... search for a way in the movie theater's free parking lot! First I tried going to the<span> </span>parking lot under the over-pass that I knew about, but there was a guy there wanting money, so I told him I was just trying to exit and made a circle going back to where I began. As I waited for the light to change I thought of an idea! I turned back in the parking lot, I turned and acted like I was going to go the same under the over pass parking lot, but then made a left into the back entrance of the movie theater's parking lot... I was almost home free! I started looking for a parking space, when I look to the left and there's a cop sitting there in his car... but his back is to me... so quickly drive past and found a parking spot.<br /><br />Now since there were no shuttles I walked all the way to where I needed to be. I got there on time, and prepared to work with the little ankle biters for the evening. But as I go to start helping out the girl in charge of the area asks, "Are you with Galaxy Dollars?"... To which I replied, "Yes."...She told me that they had enough help in this area, but that Galaxy Dollars was helping with the music area this year, and if I could help with that, that would be great... so I did. I made my way over to the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Event</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Center</st1:placetype></st1:place> and told them what was going on...It turned out that I vaguely knew the guy in charge of the music event. So he asked me if I wanted to MC for the night, to which I replied the only way a Ben could answer that question...hecks yes! Needless to say the night ended up being a blast, and except for one little snaf-foo the night went off without a hitch! Well, that will do it for now... hope you all had a great Christmas and New Year!</span></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-64938780448400546012010-01-15T00:22:00.000-08:002010-01-15T09:02:16.367-08:00The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team... Beginning of an Era<div class="blogSubject" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Editor's Note*<br /><br />It had been several months since I had tried to talk about anything really Starbucks related, due to the fact I had been told to stop posting stuff with the name "Starbucks" in it. As such, I thought that one, November, 2006 seemed like the right time to try again... and two, I would save the potential heartache of having to take them off by using the name "Galaxy Dollars" instead (get it?). And it must have worked too, because even though quite a few people read these blogs there has never seemed to be any backlash from it. Anyways, hope you enjoy!<br />____________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><br /></span> </div><!--- blog body ---> <div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_199269407" style="font-family:verdana;"> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Hello to all! I hope each and everyone of you had a great Thanksgiving! If you didn't... I'm sorry you didn't but, umm... don't blame it on me. *ahem*...Moving right along... In the spirit of the holidays I thought I'd share a continuing story with all of you... but not just any story, no. This is a story about friends, and soccer, and teamwork... and Galaxy Dollars *whispers* (<span style="font-style: italic;">That's code for Starbucks</span>)... and the human heart... and run on sentences. Run on sentences? *ahem* So as you read, this, the first in a line of stories about the peoples of Galaxy Dollars Coffee, and their quest for soccer playing bliss... I hope you are reminded of things, things like... hot coco by the fire, singing "White Christmas" with loved ones... hitting that poor defenseless bird that is now embedded forevermore on your tire... umm, maybe don't think about that last one. But anyway, you know what I mean... So, without any further ado, here is... "Beginning of an Era".</span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>It seems not so long ago that one of my fellow Galaxy Dollar co-workers said, "Hey, we should form a Galaxy Dollar soccer team!"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> And all the girls were like, "Oh, what a great idea! How much fun would that be?!"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> And all the guys were like, "Hmm, we get to kick a ball around? Ok, seems like fun."</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />So everyone started talking about how to go about setting it up... First, we had meeting to find out who was really serious about playing on the team, setting up important details, and stuff of that nature. Then we had a another meeting... and to be quite honest I don't know what purpose that meeting served. We sat around talking about what number we wanted to be, how our jerseys would look, if we would have to wear underwear at the games, would Ben look good in a thong... well, not really the last two... But ya, it was general crap like that, so it was pretty pointless in my opinion. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Next, a certain Galaxy Dollar employee found us a "beginners soccer league" to play in and signed us up. For all we knew we could have playing little kids, but never-the-less we knew we needed to practice since there were several people (like myself) who didn't have the foggiest idea how to play soccer. So we set up some practice dates. Finally the first soccer practice got here... we were all pumped, we were all dressed appropriately, we were all... really bad. It's true, except for three players, we were terrible. We couldn't pass good, we couldn't shoot good, we couldn't even handle the ball good. The only thing we were really good at? ...drinking water. But we did do <u>that</u> with greatness! There was just one thing on our minds now... how can we not suck so bad. Well, that... and how we hoped that we really were playing kids, or we were going to get our butts whipped! We wisely decided that we needed a few more practices before we hit the "big green". We practiced a few more times in the weeks to come, and we were getting better. I would say that in those practices we went from horrible, to adequate... so needless to say we were feeling pretty good. Indeed, with those practices our confidence grew, our hair grew, and even our skills grew (a little). It was true, our first game approached! ...Check back soon for, The Galaxy Dollars Soccer Team...The First Game!</span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-58856311153384590142010-01-12T10:32:00.000-08:002010-01-14T22:40:06.296-08:00When it Rains it Pours... The Story of the Weekend from Hell<!--- blog body ---> <div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_188880474" style="font-family:verdana;"> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> *Originally Posted November, 2006*<br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">First I'd like to start this off by saying, the story below is NOT fabricated in anyway... I may word things in such a way that you might you chuckle, or perhaps even laugh, but it's still true. So, as you read this story with your loved ones, your pets, or even the fly on the wall... just remember that this story... ya it's all real. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ok</span>, so... read the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">freakin</span>' story, and enjoy it you sick twisted people!...j/k.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Now it has been my experience that weekends are usually a good thing, a thing that one can look forward to, a time of more fun then the week... But alas, that was not the case for the weekend in question. This is that fateful story...</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>It all started on a Saturday night, I was bored sitting on my couch watching football when it all started to unfold..."Party Thrower A" came through the door with some Party go-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ers</span>, and Party Thrower A's care-taker (Mom), who was carrying a paper bag full of "fire water" (Booze). I immediately got a little concerned, but "Party Thrower A" (who is 18) asked me to trust him, and with his care-taker being there I thought I had nothing to worry about, so I did... an unwise decision. So instead of questioning him I just cocked my brow, and changed for work. And left for work shortly there after.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>As I recall the night at work was not a pleasant one, my now former Store Manager (AKA, Mr. FOCUS BEN RICHARDSON FOCUS face) was working his last shift before being promoted to District Manager... and was not in what one might call a pleasant mood. Now seeing as this was his last shift, I had to nag him to get me my set of Shift Supervisor keys... you know I need to do my job! Anyway, finally about 15 minutes before close he finally gave them to me. I tried letting him know how much I appreciated this and everything he'd done etc, etc... but he didn't really want to listen... so I pretty much was like, well then pal, screw you... and finished the night. Then, well... I went home. After I got home I decided to hide the new keys in my car so no one would find them. I hid them inside the car and headed inside the building. (What? It sounded good in my head!)<br /></span></p> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>As I neared the apartment door I could hear the sound of crap going on in the apartment... I braced myself and headed inside. Once inside I was hit with a barrage of <span> </span>inebriated people, most of which I didn't <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">kno</span></span><span style="font-size:100%;">w (this I am fine with) I also had noticed some people that had infatuations with faces (or at least their mouths). Some of these instances were hetero, and some of them were homo (this made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but I'm still good). I walk a little farther to discover 15 year <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">olds</span> drunk off their ass... that was it. I immediately put an end to the juvenile inebriation, and quickly started trying to get people in a state in which they could leave the premises. Now because there were both sheep and wolves in the apartment, and by sheep I mean girls, and by wolves I mean boys... I decided that I would need to make sure that all was well before I crashed for the evening, unless I wanted to buy a new couch (if you know what I mean). Unfortunately, the time that "all was well" was 5:00am... I woke up about 11:00am and decided that I would go to lunch with my friends, while "Party Thrower A" and his "buddies" were in the apartment. And by buddies I mean... well, more than buddies. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"> Since I was now in a festive mood I put on a Bob Marley wig, and a top that my new <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Strongbad</span> beanie, and I was off to eat Chinese... things were going good. That was until I got to my car. I walk up to my car humming a little hum, and walking like a Jamaican. But when I opened my door and looked inside... I had been robbed!!! I darted for where I hid the keys, but they were gone, among other things of value... including my CD player, and The Killers new album that was in it... needless to say I was not a happy camper. I called the company I work for and alerted them of the what had happened... I quickly received a call from the "former Store Manager" wanting to know what happened and at times almost blaming me for them being stolen... All I have to say about this is... not cool pal-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">bert</span>, not cool. I looked around the parking lot and found that 2 other cars had been robbed as well... So, as one might deduce between the party, and the burglary my weekend bit the "big one". Well, thanks for reading... check back for more festive reading later. It will be festive...I promise.<br /></span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-14147617601298342722010-01-10T07:27:00.000-08:002010-02-26T10:56:45.613-08:00The Life and Times of a Ben at the Supermarket<!--- blog body ---> <div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_175179037" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Originally Posted October, 2006*<br /><br /></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Well hello again everyone! Now before I get started I wanted to make something clear that has to do with the title. Just in case the part that says, "a Ben" threw you off. That "a Ben" that it's talking about... ya, that's me... I just thought I'd clear that up in case you thought I was going to rattle off some random story about another Ben that you don't even know... Ok, glad we got that out of the way. So, let us begin our trip to the supermarket!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>So there I was... I entered the Albertson's parking lot, found a decent parking space and headed inside to do my monthly grocery shopping. I walked through the front door, looked to my right and grabbed the closest cart available. I looked down at my cart and noticed something was missing... my list! I knew I didn't forget it so I frantically patted myself down, scrambling to find the piece of precious parchment. A couple of people walked by while I was doing this and gave some precarious looks, you know the, "<span style="font-style: italic;">I don't think it's appropriate to do something like that in public</span>" looks. So I did what most any man in my position would have done.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> As I patted myself, I started saying, "Where's my list?! I know that thing's around here somewhere..."</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> The passing peoples seemed to find the frantic babbling sufficient to get their dirty minds out of the gutter, so I was happy. Finally I found it! I was ready to shop!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> So I began, with list in hand, and... an empty cart. I made my way past the fresh produce area first, to which I passed a meat stand stating, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Buy one, get one free!</span>". This got my attention, so I stopped and perused the merchandise. While I pondering whether to get said deluxe meat or not, an Albertson's worker walked up, and started stocking the display I was looking at. After throwing a couple more packages on the display she stops and looks at me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">In a rather passionate but kind tone, the middle aged African American women states, "Honey, you should get some! They're buy one, get one!"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> To which I responded the only way I could after that statement, "Well then, I'll take two!"...and I did.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Next I was off to the aisles... the aisle part of the shopping usually goes well. I was buying food, I was looking for the super-savers... things were pretty much "same-o, same-o"... that was until I reached the coffee aisle... Now I don't know why, but there is a gravitational pull when I pass by the Starbucks section of the coffee aisle. It's a tug, if you will, to assist the poor helpless individual looking so aimlessly at the Starbucks coffee, that they are almost overwhelmed by the sheer variety of it all. Now this "tug" usually gives way because there's is no one looking at the coffee... but, this time there <u>was</u> someone standing there in front of the Starbucks coffee display, and he had his hand on his chin... just waiting for some knowledgeable individual (such as myself) to help him with his coffee brewing needs/wants! I tried to keep walking... but I just couldn't, and the gravitational pull of "Legendary Service" reeled me in.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> I walked up beside the man and proudly stated, "Hello sir, I happen to work for Starbucks and I am currently training to be a Coffee Master, is there any questions I could answer for you?".</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> The man turned around, and to my surprise stated, "Well, actually I'm looking for a good breakfast coffee... what would you recommend?"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"> I quickly went off on a rant about what coffees he may enjoy. When the dust settled he choose Breakfast Blend... a real shocker I know. He ended the conversation with, "Well, thanks for stopping by."...So I guess that's good.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Well that about does it for my trip to the supermarket... Oh, I lied... one last thing before I end this. I also met the OETA movie guy! ...You know, the one that's from the public station, he rambles on in the dead of night about classic movies, and is always holding a bucket of popcorn? No? you don't know him? *ahem* Well anyway... it was no big deal, really. Ok... more later.</span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-64805465131456635532010-01-08T09:11:00.000-08:002010-01-08T09:24:17.484-08:00Ben's Life Presents: Twisted Tales of Truth<!--- blog body ---> <div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_169835333"> <p><span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:100%;" >*Originally Posted September, 2006*</span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:100%;" >Well hello! So alright, here I am on the other side of 22... not much different then 21, I don't really feel too much older. But I can tell you this... the grass was greener on the other side. Well... so far. But more on that later... because to get to the present you must first start with the past, then move forward to the present, then maybe we'll move to the future... maybe. or I could just ramble on, and on, about crap like this for a sentence or two more... j/k</span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>First off I will take you on a journey to the not-so-long ago. As some of you may recall, earlier this year I had landed one of the lead roles in an independent feature length film that was being shot in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Norman</st1:place></st1:city>. Things were going great! Then it unraveled. As of last month we had been filming for two months, and were about to finish shooting the movie in three days. When out of the blue (wherever the heck that saying came from) my director calls me and leaves me a message saying, "Hey Ben, umm..."</span></p><p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;">---Now I'd like to interrupt right here for just a second. Just to let you know (in case you didn't know this already) if someone starts a sentence with, "umm, dot, dot, dot" it's most likely not going to be the most joyous news you've ever heard. Ok, back the story...</span></p><p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So he said, "Hey Ben, umm... I'm sorry to have to tell you this... but I'm going to have to let you go, and re-cast Denny (my character)... It's not your acting, really. But your chemistry with the lead actress just isn't working out. So... thanks for all the time you put in, but... don't bother coming to the shoot Wednesday ok? Bye."<br /></span></p><p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Well alright... now I haven't been in a lot of movies, but I've been acting long enough to know that you would know before two months if two of the leads had "chemistry" or not. Not to mention he wouldn't even answer my phone calls when I tried to call him to talk about it. So... with all of these things said, in my opinion, I think he's full of something... and it isn't chocolate. Oh well... I guess that there is something on the horizon that's better... well, I hope.</span></p><p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span>Next is a story that I'm sure will have most of you reading this saying to yourself... "Ben's a freakin' idiot" ...or something close to that. But that's ok I still have to tell it anyway. Why? because I'm me, and I gotta be me! *Ahem* So, as aforementioned above, I am now 22 years old, and as such I am definitely feeling the pressure to not be a failure in life as I grow older. Well, that's where this story begins...<br /></span></p><p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;">About one week ago while working at Picture People I was offered the position of Assistant Manager. I would be making a lot more money then I am now, I would be in management (obviously, hints the name "Assistant Manager"), and... I would have to give up trying for Shift Supervisor at Starbucks... Picture People gave me 24 hours to think it over and see if I wanted the position. So, I called my boss at Starbucks and told him of the offer, and asked if he could give me a "yes" or "no" on being a "Shift" there. He stated that he could not for at least two weeks. Wished me all the luck in the world (if I took it), and that I needed to let him know what my decision was within the next couple of days.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Well, because I was under the gun I did what almost any other red blooded American would have done... I took the job. Now to me Picture People has never been an A+ corporation to work for, in fact I would even lean toward the fact that they have sucked as a company. So, I had to ask myself why was I going to move up in a company I think is not so great? This is where you'll think I'm crazy...<br /></span></p><p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The more I thought about it, the more I thought, <span style="font-style: italic;">"You know, Starbucks has always been good to me, and Picture People hasn't been, not to mention they haven't gotten back to me in a few days about the details... is this a sign of what's to come if I work for them as a manager? Laziness, and no communication?"</span><br /></span></p><p style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So, despite the money and the title... last week I told Picture People that I would like to not take the position after all, and told Starbucks that I was staying... what's so crazy about this you may be asking? Well, the fact is, is that I don't know if I will be promoted to "Shift" until next week, or the week after... So I might of made a grave decision, but oh, well... you got to do what you think is right, right? right. well, that's it for now, more coming later...</span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-45939053126691550332010-01-06T15:09:00.000-08:002010-01-06T15:24:38.344-08:00Dreams (poem)<div style="text-align: left;font-family:verdana;" class="blogSubject"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Editor's Note*<br /><br />In an attempt to break away from my "norm" of humorous blogging, I decided that about once a year I should post something of a more serious nature. This blog, originally posted in September, 2006 was my first attempt at doing so.<br />____________________________________________________________________<br /></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><!--- blog body ---> </div><div style="font-family: verdana;" class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_166214187"><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span mt="" bell=""><span><br /><br />This is</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> one of my favorite poems (that I've written) because it reflects life so well, especially my life. Please do not copy this or use it anywhere seeing as it's copy written and all, I'd hate to see anyone die---... I mean fined, or something like that for using it. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys!<br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:24;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></span></div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;" align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Dreams©</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:24;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />Dreams, sweet dreams. <o:p></o:p><br />As I lay me down to sleep,<o:p></o:p><br />My head gets filled with many things.<o:p></o:p><br />Thoughts that make my blood to run, my heart to pound, my hands to numb.<o:p></o:p><br />Thoughts that make the heavens ring, worlds collide, the angels sing.<o:p></o:p><br />Am I to believe that this is all a dream?<o:p></o:p><br />A life of love, of hope, and peace.<o:p></o:p><br />A fairy tale that can't come true,<o:p></o:p><br />A lie my heart has bought in to.<o:p></o:p><br />Oh how I wish I knew.<o:p> </o:p><br />But there must be more to this life,<o:p></o:p><br />More then hopeless pain and strife.<o:p></o:p><br />A purpose for which I'm here,<o:p></o:p><br />Perhaps to love, to help, to share.<o:p></o:p><br />I do believe it's coming clear,<o:p></o:p><br />The moon is setting the dawn is near.<o:p></o:p><br />Maybe this <u>is</u> all a dream,<o:p></o:p><br />As we wait on true life's eve.<o:p></o:p><br />For soon we'll awaken from this sleep,<o:p></o:p><br />And start our lives eternally.<o:p></o:p><br />But for now we slumber on this eve,<o:p></o:p><br />Trusting that God will give us dreams, sweet dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Written by,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Ben Richardson</span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-24605148346867533002010-01-02T07:55:00.000-08:002010-02-26T11:07:32.492-08:00The Ben, The Computer, and The Virus(s)<!--- blog body ---> <div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_155330835" style="font-family:verdana;"> <p style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Originally Posted August, 2006*<br /></span></p><p style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span><br /> </span></span><span style="font-size:100%;">To set the stage for this story...As some of you may or may not know, as of last week I had not been online for like... 14 days, 9 hours, 22 minutes, and 7 seconds... or something close to that (not that I know exactly or anything). This was due to the breaking down of my computer... This, my friends, and not-so-cool people is the story of that account.</span></p> <p style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span roman="" new="" times=""><br /> It all started one normal type of day... I was doing the normal type of stuff you do with a computer, you know: Surf the web, fiddle with programs, cook a pizza... you know the "norm". Little did I know a digital monster of sorts was lurking in the shadows... well... in my computer. Whatever. My computer had seemed to running a tad bit slow for the last couple of days, so I decided to check it for spyware and virus'... This is when things started going down hill. I ran my Microsoft Anti-Spyware program. It found a few items lurking about, but nothing of extreme crap. I decided to inquire further, so I ran a cheap (and by cheap I mean free) Yahoo Anti-Spyware program. It found several problems, one of which is known as a "root kit". This happened to be the "Sony root kit"... A nasty clocked spyware item that sends information back to its source (in this case Sony). It found the root kit, as well as a couple of other spyware items that it could not remove. Thus, it asked for my supreme help in deleting such hazards. I then went to the only website a good tech person should go to... Google.</span></span></p><p style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span roman="" new="" times=""> I searched how to remove the "Sony root kit", found a site to show me how, then followed the steps to the "T". But somehow, somewhere, something went wrong. The system asked me to reboot my computer to save the changes I had made. I did so. However, when I tried to log back on, it froze up... So I tried my roommate's name... it worked. I made it though the deletion process then had to again restart the system... I thought that it would be fine, I mean I was now done with the deletion process, right? Wrong. Well, right, but no... it didn't work. Instead of the world going back to normal, it froze up on my roommate's log in... so I tried my brother's... it worked, but I was now leery of turning off my computer for fear that I would not be able to log back on (since I had now exhausted all of the log-in names). I left my computer on and tried to make sure it was fine... but I knew it was not. Finally it happened... It froze. I restarted it, but now it wouldn't even load a log-on screen. I tried as hard as I could to fix it using all of my computer nerd power, but it was useless... I had failed.<br /></span></span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:100%;" ><span roman="" new="" times=""><span style="font-family:verdana;">I did the unthinkable (for me), I let my roommate bring it to a corporate tech in hopes of getting it up and working again... He kept it for the better part of a week. His conclusion? He couldn't fix it. Me, I was bummed... and thought he sucked. There was now only one hope for my computer... The Travis! (AKA, The Supreme Tech Dude) If he couldn't fix it, it was hopeless and I miles-well just call it a big piece of useless metal and plastic crap, in a bigger metal and plastic case of crap. I took it to him. He worked on it... and worked on it... and worked on it some more. It looked grim, he told me he had never seen anything like it before... yep, I had jack it up pretty good. Finally... he fixed it! I was relieved... he told me what had happened was that when I deleted a certain file, it deleted another one with it (without me knowing)... an important one... the boot up one. Yep, important, I concur with him. He said, that, combined with a few dozen virus' was the source of my problem(s)... so ya, I learned my lesson... what did I learn you may be asking? Well, I learned never to put Twinkies on my pizza! You know, the one that I was cooking on my computer earlier... Other then that, I'm not quite sure what I learned...j/k</span></span></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span class="status">YTJ7FWN2A8SG</span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-29284774444529043092009-12-29T09:43:00.000-08:002010-02-26T10:58:27.888-08:00The Picture People Story<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";" >*Editor's Note*<br /><br />This entertaining bit of nonsense was originally posted in July, 2006, hot on the heels of the, "Starbucks ...The Saga Ends" post. I wanted to vent my frustration about them pressing the issue, and since I couldn't write about Starbucks I did (in my mind) the next best thing... I wrote about my second job. This was what came about.<br />____________________________________________________________________ <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><b><span style=";font-family:";" >Prelude to Story:</span></b><span style=";font-family:";" ><br /><br />I warn all who reads this now, the story below is not for the faint of heart, the weak of stomach, or the people who like plush toys a lot. So, ya... consider yourself warned. But if you don't have a problem with any of those things I mentioned you're probably good to go. So... proceed.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><br /><!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><b><span style=";font-family:";" >Disclaimer:</span></b><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";" >In light of recent events... just to let everyone know, (so there is no miscommunication) The following story is completely made up. In other words it's not true, it's a lie, a falsity, farce, phony, fabricated, and any other words you can think that mean that type of thing. In other other words please do not come after me with a stick and beat me up for mentioning what I mention, ok?... ok. So as you read this I ask you, no... I <u>urge</u> you to remember... The story you about to read about is fake, that means not real... alright, if you've got that you're good to go...<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><br /><!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><b><span style=";font-family:";" >The Story:</span></b><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";" >I have been working for the Picture People for well over a year now, and I've found that pretty much everyone who works there likes their job (i.e. taking pictures, bosses, etc...). But when it comes to the company it self... well... it sucks. We get no raises, no time and a half on holidays, no respect from our high, high ups, etc, etc... So my co-workers and I have derived a plan to stop this insanity, and show the head honchos of this company that the little people of this company are more then just... well, little people. The plan we derived consists mostly of duct tape and Corn Pops, as not to damage the structural integrity of the building...<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";" >We would show up early in the morning and do stuff... really "witty" stuff. Like putting the props in vicarious positions, maybe tape a plush toy to the wall and stick a ransom note up its nose (if you can do that), and instead of all the tills having a receipt on them stating how much money is inside (like they usually do), they'd have a piece of parchment placed on them saying, "gone"...of course when the head honchos walked in to the store we'd blame it on a poo flinging monkey. And the head honchos would believe us too, because deep inside we all believe that monkeys really do fling poo... Immediately the head honchos would put a surveillance on all stores that sold bananas, (that's bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S) so that if there were a spike in banana sales they would know where to catch their hairy little thief. But of course they'd get there and it would be some washed up soap-opera star that we decided to pin it on, and all we'd have to do is give him a $20 bill and tell him to go buy as many bananas as he could with it, because we all know that if we saw a washed up soap-opera star buying $20 worth the bananas we'd be a bit suspicious... but that's a story for a different time. I mean if you want to be real honest we'd probably eventually get caught. And you know that the head honchos would pull one of those, "We knew it was you guys the whole time, but we just wanted to see if you guys were going to let a poor innocent poo flinging monkey take the rap for you" In which we'd rip off one of the pieces of parchment (just for the crap of it), and run away with the washed up soap-opera star, because he has $20 worth the bananas and we know we're going to need to eat something. And of course as we're eating them we could sing, "This crap's bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S"... because that's what this story's really about.<o:p></o:p></span></p>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-77104767884037485402009-12-29T08:50:00.000-08:002009-12-29T09:43:17.935-08:00Starbucks, the Untold Stories... The Saga Ends?<!--- blog body ---> <div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_145581593" style="font-family:verdana;"><div class="blogSubject"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Editor's Note*<br /><br />It was in July of 2006 that it was brought to my attention, (by my then Store Manager) that I had forgotten to delete one of my Starbucks blogs, and would need to do that "immediately". In addition to taking it down, he asked that I make it known that there would be no more "Starbucks blogs" coming from me. To this day I'm not sure that anyone besides him really cared that it was there, but never-the-less I did take it down.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> The following, is the post that he asked me to write stating that there would be no more "Starbucks blogs". But he never said I couldn't put my own twist on it, and since by this time I was a little riled up at the situation... I did (put my twist on it).<br />____________________________________________________________________________<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span> </div><!--- blog body ---> <div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_143148548"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Alright... To everyone who reads this, do not cry, blow your nose, or pick up a Uzi and start shooting people... but it's true. Starbucks, the untold stories... blog dealio, is no more. Why, some of you may be asking? These blogs have made people laugh, cry, and even reunited one person with their long lost family! Ok, that last one's not true... (but they were fun) Well, it is do to the fact that certain high up officials in Starbucks found, read, and (in their opinion) did not feel that the content of my blogs were good for general public to know. With that said... in their words, "If I would like to further myself with the company, it is in my best interest to no longer write new Starbucks blogs, and to remove previously posted ones." As such, Starbucks, the untold stories... will no longer be on my site. I am truly sorry that there will be no more Starbucks stories posted, but in this life you have to pick and choose your battles... so, ya. On the other hand, I hope all of you who did get to experience the awesomeness that was a Starbucks, the untold stories... blog dealio will remember them fondly. Until the next blog... see ya.</span></p></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-86454752248738507262009-12-26T14:50:00.000-08:002009-12-26T15:45:16.438-08:00Can You Repeat That?<div style="font-family: verdana;" class="blogSubject"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Originally Posted May, 2006*<br /><br /></span> </div><!--- blog body ---> <div style="font-family: verdana;" class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_121502991"><span style="font-size:100%;"> Ok, so... I recently acquired a credit card. Not to use irresponsibly mind you, but to build my credit to even greater heights! Well, when I activated my card a few weeks ago I got a rather hard to understand middle-eastern women... Now I'm not racist, but I was having difficulty hearing this women... So I did what any person trying to be polite would do. Push the phone closer to my ear, in hopes that that millimeter will somehow be the difference between, "Can you repeat that?" and, "Oh, uh-huh."...Unfortunately, not even that millimeter could save me this time. I tried desperately to understand what she was saying, but I always found myself saying, "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?". Now, I didn't know it at the time, but her mouth had to have an overdrive button, or something... because after the activation of the card she starts spouting off like 5 trillion words per second, it was crazy! All I remember hearing was, "Next I am going to talk to you about the Payment Protector Plan..." and she was off! The next thing I remember hearing was, "Aright?"...In my head I was thinking, "Man, I did not understand a word she just said, except for Payment Protector Plan... I should ask her to repeat that--but gee wiz, I don't want to go through all that again..." So, what came out was, "Oh, uh-huh." </span> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"> Well, that brings us to today... I had looked up what the "Payment Protector Plan" was, and decided that I didn't think it was for me. So, I called up the credit card company to cancel it... I'm telling you, I would have had an easier time hugging a porcupine... After battling the automated help line, I finally get a human! Now, one would think that the task that I set out to do would be easier once I reach a human, but no... not for me. I tell the lady what I want to do...</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"> In reply she says, "Well, why do you want to do that?" like she's shocked that I would even think up such a terrible thing...</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"> I stated my reasons and repeated that, "I would please like to cancel it."</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"> I guess maybe she thought I sounded unsure of my decision, because she went back on the war-path... "Now sir, I myself have this, and let me tell you, it's great! And!...(Like I'm supposed to get excited)...if you die your spouse will not have to pay for up to $25,000 of you debt!"</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">...Like I'm really supposed to get excited about the thought of me dying... give me a break. So with one last gust-o, if you will, I rendered this statement, "Listen, I'm single... I have no spouse, or kids. I'm 21, I'm young, and even though I know that everyone thinks their not not going to die young, I really believe I'm not. So, I would <u>still</u> like to cancel."</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"> One would think I had won. But no... she had one last punch, "Well sir, I'm young too and I really like it"</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">I said, "Well, I'm glad it works for you, but I just don't feel I need it right now. Now please cancel it." And finally, after what seemed like hours...I had won. yay for me. Well aright, more later...</span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-36659232784577804812009-12-25T09:23:00.000-08:002009-12-25T09:40:01.165-08:00The Chronicles of the Phantom of the Opera Trip<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><p>*Originally Posted April, 2006*</p><p><br /></p><p> Hello to all! Well, to start off...For those of you who didn't know, I got see the Broadway tour of "Phantom of the Opera" yesterday in Dallas...with that ground work laid lets dive in to the trip...</p><p><br /></p> <p><strong>The Trip There:</strong></p> <p> So we started our day off by picking Krista (my brother's girlfriend) up at her house. Next, we decided that we were hungry and needed something to eat, so we stopped at Braums for some chow... Now I know what you're thinking, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Man, this is pretty boring...why the crap would I want to read about a boring trip?</span>"...and right you are. That's why courtesy of Caleb (my brother) things got interesting... First we waited for what seemed like 30 minutes in the Braums drive-thru... Oh, wait IT WAS 30 MINUTES! Anyway, shortly after receiving our food and drinks, which almost all of us ordered stuff that wouldn't mess up our clothes (if we dropped them), the unthinkable happened... Caleb spills almost his entire chocolate milk on his tan-ish, white pants... I'm telling it looked like he had uncontrollable explosive diarrhea! But on the front... so I guess it did a u-turn, or something like that. Whatever. Needless to say I felt for the guy. So we went to Target and got him some new pants... And yes, he had to walk through the store that way... Finally we make it to the theatre!</p><p><br /></p> <p><strong>The Show:</strong></p> <p> The show was good, really good even. Not great, but really good. What can I say, I love the movie! But I will say it might have been better if there wasn't a baby in the freakin' theatre though! I'm telling you how stupid can people get... I can see it now, "Hey, lets just bring the baby, you don't think anyone will care do you?" Just do us all a favor, if you're going to have children... Don't bring them in the freakin' theatre, and let them cry!!...*ahem*... I'm better now.</p><p><br /></p> <p><strong>The Trip Back:</strong></p> <p> Alright, so we started our journey home... I was really tired because I hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night before, as such my eyes stung when they had to stay open. But since I'm the compass of the troop, I had to navigate us back to the straight and narrow. Just one little snaf-foo happened. Caleb had to use the facilities, like a mo-fo. So, we looked for a place to exit... When my mom finally decided to choose an exit, she did so in the bad part of town. So Caleb's only choice was a <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Churches Chicken (Yep, now you know the part of town alright). He</span></span> dashed inside, and dashed back... with a new appreciation for port-a-potties! j/k Anyway, we decide to stop at Dairy Queen for some food, and of course ice cream! There was just one little problem... it seemed like for every order you had, you could multiply that by 5 min per order and that's how long it took to get the darn thing. So needless to say the DQ trip took a wee bit longer then we thought it would. Finally we made it back... I came into my apartment, and I'd like to tell you I crashed, but no. I watched some TV, ate some chips, then crashed! Ha! Thought you knew me so well... j/k. Well, check for more later.</p></span></span>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-20804681190938748872009-12-25T09:06:00.000-08:002009-12-25T09:19:22.264-08:00Manjari Must Die<p style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Originally Posted April, 2006*<br /></span></p><p style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Alright, I know what you were thinking when you decided to read this,"<span style="font-style: italic;">What in the world is this thing about, and what the crap does </span><em style="font-style: italic;">'Manjari Must Die'</em><span style="font-style: italic;"> mean?</span>"...Am I pretty close? Well, if you did ask those questions they are good ones. If you didn't ask those questions one of two things are going on here... One, you just don't care, and you really probably shouldn't be reading this in the first place, but you're going to just because you love me sooo much. (which I highly doubt) or Two, you are just sooo trusting of my blogs that you'll read them even if they're about crap... or mushed crap... or stuff that resembles mushed crap. (I'm thinking there might be like two of you who do this) Anyway, I won't keep you in suspense any longer, so here goes...</span> </p> <p style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> "Manjari Must Die" is a independent feature length film that is being shot right here in Oklahoma. Why does this matter to me, you may ask? Well, let's go back to the beginning shall we? ...Ok, I'm being born... Look! there I am! I'm such a ugly baby... Wait, they're pushing me back in!!------alright, maybe that was too far back. Ok so, back in early February I got on MySpace Film (a new part of myspace, like myspace music, but for film... go figure.) Anyways, I looked around at some of the companies on there, and found a couple that do some stuff from here ("here" being Oklahoma in general) Well, on one of the pages I noticed that they were going to be filming a feature length film and two shorts here later in the year. So I e-mailed the guy, wondering if they were had already cast the aforementioned films, or if they still needed people.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Months passed by, and no answer. To be quite honest I had forgotten all about it. Until about a week ago when he finally e-mailed back saying, "I am looking for some college age guys if you would like to audition"...So I did! And yesterday he gave me a call to let me know... I'VE BEEN CAST! And not just a little part either! In fact it's the largest male role in the movie... So needless to say I am pretty freakin' excited about it! Well, that's about all...check back for more later.</span></p>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-16170375334868909372009-12-24T08:47:00.000-08:002009-12-24T08:56:40.039-08:00The Events of "Factor X"<!--- blog body ---> <div style="font-family: verdana;" class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_103263007"><span style="font-size:100%;">*Originally Posted March, 2006*<br /><br /> Hello to everyone out there... on your computer... reading this. Maybe aloud, or perhaps to yourself... or maybe even to your pet fish, Pepper. Whichever the case, I hope you enjoy... and stuff.</span> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"> Alright so I know you are all wondering what the "Factor X" stands for, and I'll bet some of you bright individuals have already guessed it... It's Starbucks but of course! I just thought I'd get a bit fancy on you, to keep you on your toes...</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p><span style="font-size:100%;"> So, things at Starbucks in the last couple of weeks have been interesting, interesting indeed. In the last few weeks we've had a few people quit, a couple people move, one guy get married...and one person that got abducted by aliens...plaid aliens. (Ok, maybe not the last one, but the rest of them really happened.) My point is that a lot of people have left, leaving us a bit short handed. So my boss went on a quest, if you will, to find us some new Starbucks employee's... But being short handed has meant more hours for me so I haven't minded too much. So I was like a quest? why go on a quest? why don't you just sit back, and take a load off... In fact, here's some jelly donuts. But that didn't work. So he hired some new people...</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">Ahh, I had almost forgotten what it was like to be so new... so naive... so... well, not good. Anyway, because there will be a new store soon (classified information as to where) we have been training people like a mad person(s)! I'm telling you, there's someone I haven't met before in the store like everyday! I come in, I'm like, "Who are you?" and they're like, "I'm new, I work here." So you give that look like... "Well, I've been here a while... so, ya. You better recognize..." and they're all like... "Ooo, he's been here a while, I better recognize..." but really there are some cool people that have started... it's just a change, and change is... well, change. And you have to deal with it. So, I guess I'll deal with it... where's my shotgun?...j/k. Alright, well, that's it for now check back for more later.</span></p></div>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-64819364951486845552009-12-23T08:40:00.000-08:002010-02-26T11:06:50.969-08:00Do I Smell Something Burning?<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;font-family:verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style="">*Originally Posted March, 2006*<br /><br />A pleasant hello to everyone who reads this! And the good ol' double duce to everyone who doesn't... Any-hoo, it would seem like it's been a while since I posted on here. But there are reasons, good reasons... The biggest of which is my computer. What the crap is he talking about you might be saying... well, my computer blew up! no joke.<br /><br />While watching my Seinfeld Season 4 DVD (shameless plug) I heard a BOOM! I paused the DVD and walked over to my computer. I tried to turn it back on... nothing. What had happened was the power supply to the computer decided it had lived long enough, and wanted to kick the bucket... if power supplies can kick the bucket. The BOOM was it dying. That was followed by some smoke, and a burning smell... not good. So my computer lay there, lifeless... I almost shed a tear, but then realized that this was going to cost money to fix... so I started to ball! I quickly unscrewed the side and took a look inside... it was dead alright. Me being a tech savvy guy, tracked it down to being one of two things... One: Just the power supply had fried, and I needed a new one, or Two: The power supply, and the motherboard were both fried, and my computer was a big paper weight. Obviously I was routing for number one!<br /><br />So today I went to Comp USA and bought a new power supply, and installed it. I pushed the button... nothing. I looked at the back..."<i>Hmm...what's this?</i> <i>A new power switch on the back? Let me switch it on</i>" so I did, and my computer came to life! It was beautiful, really. Well, I just wanted to update and get back in the swing of things, so check back for more later.</span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-59342704784546625012009-12-20T16:24:00.000-08:002010-02-26T11:02:27.286-08:00Jerks and Headaches...Their Common Thread<span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" ><h4 face="verdana" style="font-weight: normal;" class="itemtitle">*Originally Posted February, 2006*<br /></h4><h4 face="verdana" style="font-weight: normal;" class="itemtitle"> Hello to all! Well, it would seem at long last the sun has graced us with its presence... and I for one thank it for doing so. (I just thought I'd throw that in here). I'm pretty sure you don't care, but whatever, there it is... So I know you're all wondering what <u>do</u> jerks and headaches have in common? And don't worry, I'm not going to leave you hanging... I mean come on, it's me. Sadly, I am the common thread that pieces these things together. I don't know if it's because of the snow, or if people lately just wake up and think, "Gee, I think I'll be a huge jerk-face today!" But whatever the case is, they have been jerks.<br /></h4><br /><p style="font-family: verdana;"> Aright so... Today I needed some stuff from the store, and I needed to put my checks in the bank. So I went to the Piggly Wiggly (a local supermarket that's known for bring run down), in the name of convenience... All because it's across the street from my bank. Let me tell you this now... never shop there! For one: Everything is WAY over priced! I mean if you like throwing your money in a trash bag, by all means shop there! But if you don't...run, run vary far away from the Piggly Wiggly... For two: When I get to the check out, the cashier is a "bundle of joy"...which is kinda funny because her name was actually "Joy". lol...<br /></p><p style="font-family: verdana;">Anyways, I was trying to buy some frozen entree type deals that were on sale for 88 cents each... But when they rung up I saw that they were ringing up at $1.76.</p><p style="font-family:verdana;"><span>So I politely tell Joy, </span>"Excuse me miss, these (pointing to my frozen entrees) were on sale for 88 cents."</p><p face="verdana"> Joy quickly states, "No, that's only on the dinners! ...And you didn't get the dinners!"</p><p face="verdana"> Well, there happened to be a <u>huge</u> poster in the window next to us that clearly stated the sale price right on it... So I proceed to tell her, "No, ma'am it says these (once again pointing to my entrees) are on sale, see." ...and I pointed to the sign in the window.<br /></p><p face="verdana">She goes crazy! "I'm telling you sir! These are NOT the ones on sale!"</p><p face="verdana"><br />A manager quickly comes over, and after some random crap from Joy... looks at the poster in the window and states, "Joy, I believe the customer is right."</p><p face="verdana">To which she goes even more crazy, "Why the hell did you put me on register anyway! Huh?!"<br /></p><p face="verdana">He <span>exasperating</span>ly replied, "You know, I'm not sure."<br /></p><p face="verdana">He quickly apologized for her behavior (even though she was still standing right there), and asked if I was satisfied with the outcome.<br /></p><p face="verdana">I thought about saying, "<span style="font-style: italic;">only if you fire her</span>"...But I didn't. I said, "yes"</p><p face="verdana"> I then went on my marry way... But let me tell you, that's the last time I go there! Sheesh!</p><br /><p face="verdana">That brings us to later in the day... I'm on my way to work (and I might throw in that I'm on pace to be early), and I'm mosey-ing down the Broadway Extension (a local highway in Oklahoma City) when things come to a complete halt! I mean we're not even close to the construction that's going on up ahead, so I don't why the heck these morons aren't moving... Minutes, and minutes pass by, and we barely move! So I get off at the first exit I come to, in hopes that I can still get to work on time. Oh, but that's just too much to ask I guess... Not only did I hit almost every red light, but I think I got stuck behind every crap face in the metro area!<br /></p><p><span style="">So I finally get to work... late! (which I'm <u>never</u> late, so it ticked me off a bit) So the night goes on...Things finally get better, my mood improves and so on and so forth. Then it happens... I bend down to pick up some loose change on the floor, and when I get up I hit my head really hard on the corner of the register! I thought I was fine, and started to walk it off... Then I got really light headed... I leaned against the counter, then one of my co-workers got me a chair to sit on... After a while I was good again... Well, with the exception of two things... One, I had a giant headache. and two, I couldn't remember certain things. I, for one, thought I was AdamSandler... So that was my first idea that something might be wrong... For two, I started answering the drive-thru, "Hi welcome to.... umm ... wherever you are". So then I was almost certain something was wrong...Then I couldn't remember the name of the regular that had just come in... Which was weird because I just called her by her name not even 5 minutes ago. Then the roof started caving in, and Ziggy Stardust came through singing "Suffragette City"</span><span style="">! And... ok, ok, just kidding on that last part. Finally, my co-workers came to the conclusion that I had gotten a case of selected amnesia...You know though... I <u>still</u></span> <span style="">can't think of that ladies name... It's driving me nuts! Well, whatever...</span><br /></p></span>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-74980689139363694512009-12-19T10:11:00.000-08:002009-12-19T10:33:15.577-08:00It's Just Another Day...<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><h4 style="font-weight: normal;" class="itemtitle">*Originally Posted February, 2006*<br /></h4><h4 style="font-weight: normal;" class="itemtitle"> Hello people of the internet! So I will pick up where I left off... Valentine's Day. So... I spent my Valentine's Day doing number nine on my list, and I must admit I enjoyed hearing the sound of children crying, and grown men screaming, "My legs, I can't feel my legs!!"...ok, I'm j/k. Actually it was spent working... all day. Yep it's true, the only free time I had was spent writing on here posting this. But it was worth it...</h4><br /><h4 style="font-weight: normal;" class="itemtitle"> Anyway, at my photography job things were crazy! And by crazy, I mean...umm...well, crazy! We had so many appointments that we were turning people away! I got kind of scared too, because some of the people who got turned away didn't look too happy... and by me saying they didn't look too happy...Umm, well... how can I put this? Aw, I know. I mean they looked like they were going to get their Uzi and shoot the ever living crap out of us. But I mean what can you expect when you're trying to make an appointment for later that day? I mean the nerve... It was Valentine's Day! You know, come to think of it they were lucky I wasn't pulling out <u>my</u> Uzi and shooting the ever living crap out of them! ...*ahem* Anyway, I tried my best to make the peoples' kids that came in look as beautiful as possible, but since some of them needed a rather large spanking on the hind quarters it was impossible... So to get back at those kids I didn't give them a happy face sticker, ha! I showed those little kids! *ahem* Ya, so then that job was over... and I left.</h4> <p> Later I was off to Starbucks... I had recently seen the new Pink Panther movie with Steve Martin, and had a french accent stuck in my head. So I found it irresistible to talk with a french accent... all night. Unsuspecting drive-thru-ers were greeted with, (what I thought) was a pleasant french voice. Which most people enjoyed, some <u>hated</u> with a passion... and still a few yet that couldn't understand what in the world I was saying. A couple of times I slipped into my Irish accent, and found that quite enjoyable too. In fact one lady, in like her 30's, thought it was my real voice and asked...</p><p><br />Lady: "Which part of Ireland did you grow up in?"</p><p>Me: (In a thick Irish accent) "I grew up in the fine region of Tucson... Arizona." Then I start talking normal...<br /></p><p>She cracks up and says, "You should be an actor!"<br /></p><p>I said, "I am!"</p><p> She continues, "Well good, because you should be!"</p><p>I finish with, "Thank you."</p><p>...and they drove off. Probably to see the wizard... the wonderful wizard of Oz... or something like that.<br /></p> </span></span>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-49452328506259079432009-12-19T09:45:00.000-08:002009-12-19T10:33:57.785-08:00The "Special Edition" Valentine's Day Blog<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">*Editor's Note*</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Originally posted the day before Valentine's Day 2006, this blog of awesomeness was somehow unintentionally deleted (over two years ago) from the recesses of MySpace never to be seen again...until now. This classic that "started it all" (for the Valentine's Day blogs) was the first Valentine's Day piece written for humans to feast upon, and chuckle at their own singleness...I'm sure of it. Now somehow digitally remastered, it can now be viewed in its full 1080p glory. So here is your chance to read the blog, that hundreds have called "a blog about Valentine's Day" for yourself. I now give you the one, the only...the original, "Special Edition" Valentine's Day Blog" from 2006.</span><br />____________________________________________________________________<br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Actually, unlike the title says, there is absolutely nothing "special edition" about this blog. I just put it in there to make all of you single people feel better on Valentine's Day...if you feel better, it worked...if you don't...you don't. and nothing I can do is going to change that, so why should I even try?...*ahem* Well, ok... I'll try.<br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> So here it is...Valentine's Day. Doesn't feel any different then any other day... I mean the sun is shining, the birds are singing... people are still cutting me off on the roads. Yep, love is definitely in the air. So just yesterday I was in the mall when I happened to glance at two guys that appeared to be about 14 or 15 years old in the food court... I mean there's nothing unusual about two 14 or 15 year old guys being in the food court, right? But there is something a bit disturbing about them both holding Victoria's Secret bags. I mean I wonder what was on their perverted little minds... because I'm guessing it wasn't perfume in those bags... Anyways, let's not go there.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> So you might be asking yourself, what can I do? I have no Valentine... Well, there's no need to fret! For I have compiled a list of 10 things you can do on this Valentine's Day ...all original too! (as in I made them up...I didn't get them off a forward or something like that)...and here they are!</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> You Could:</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> 1. If you're not single, and don't have a date with your bf/gf...spy on them to see if they're cheating on you...which will get you single really quick (if they are, or aren't cheating), then you can look at the other nine of these!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> 2. Watch your favorite movie with your best friend. (aww)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> 3. Read a book...because reading will help keep your mind off of it being Valentine's Day ... as long as the book isn't about life, love, and the pursuit of happiness...If it is, then you're screwed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> 4. Watch your favorite movie with an alright friend or friends (because your best friend has a bf/gf, and isn't a loser like you)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> 5. Live in the past and pour over old pictures of ex bf/gf's and be like... Now that was a good Valentine's Day.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> 6. Ask a complete stranger off the streets, who looks like a nice person, to watch your favorite movie with you... (because ALL of your friends have a bf/gf, and aren't losers like you)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> 7. Call a 1-900 number, or one of those singles hot-lines... because chatting with someone on Valentine's Day at least makes you feel better...right? (like you're ever going to get to talk to a guy or a girl that looks like the one on the commercials)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> 8. Watch a movie that you hate with a complete stranger you met in like Wal-Mart... It's not like you're going to be watching the movie anyway... I mean it's Valentine's Day, dang it, and you want some action!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> 9. Take a machine gun, and go around the city blowing the crap out of people, because you're single on Valentine's Day, and not happy about it! (I don't suggest this one)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> 10. Kill yourself. (I don't suggest this one either)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Well, there it is the "Special Edition" Valentine's Day blog...do with it as you will...and try to have a Happy Valentine's Day...just not too happy.</span></span>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5782136751733046591.post-30254115543090456372009-12-17T21:58:00.000-08:002009-12-19T10:34:48.383-08:00Events of Gibberish in the Life of Ben<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><h4 style="font-weight: normal;" class="itemtitle"><span><span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></span></span></h4><h4 style="font-weight: normal;" class="itemtitle">*Originally Posted February, 2006*</h4></span></span><h4 style="font-weight: normal;" class="itemtitle"> Hello to all, I hope this post finds you doing well, or close to well....or not dead (you should be one of those). So it would seem that my life has been somewhat full this week. Full of stuff, things...events some might even call them. It all started with the fateful death of my little cell phone and went on down from there... You see my phone died on the 28th of Jan., but I wasn't eligible for a new phone until Feb. 1st... So I had to rough it without communication to the outside world for what seemed like 10 years... Now I know what the Dark Ages were like...people talking into paper cups with string attached to the end of another paper cup. And you're all like...that's really awesome I can sort of hear you, but in reality it sucks and all you hear is a sound that somewhat sounds like Scooby-Doo...."Rye rink rhis is rwesome, rye can rear you"...yep, it must of been tragic times alright.</h4><h4 style="font-weight: normal;" class="itemtitle"> Anyways, after the few days without a cell phone I went to a cell phone place, and got a phone... boy do I love to spend money on cell phones(he says sarcastically). I hate cell phone companies. So after dropping a considerable amount of dough at the cell phone place I went to get the oil changed in my car. I had a coupon so it was a good deal (yes, I finally remembered to use one of those darn coupons that I'm always buying from people, boo-ya for me!). But I should have known that the spending money part of my day was far from over. When I got back to pick up my car they said that a belt of importance was going to break soon, and would take other stuff of importance with it when it went. Oh, and would most likely leave me stranded where I was. Well, when you put it that way I better fix it... So there went more dough... a lot more dough. I think I was on the verge of shooting someone. So I came home and did the next best thing... killed people online. (in a game, for those of you who got that worried look on your face as you read that last sentence) Thus ending what seemed like a day straight from Hell...</h4> <p> Then the weekend came... After dealing with customers that treat you worse than the gum on their shoe, and bosses that are self-centered... and more of that other stuff I said... the weekend finally came upon me. It started last night, and pretty much ended there too, but whatever. Anyway, so I went over to Tim and Jesse's house with a junk load of people to watch a movie. We ended up watching "Just Like Heaven" with Reese Witherspoon, some dude and Jon Heder (Napoleon Dynamite) it wasn't bad...I mean Jon Heder was funny... So ya, good times? Still working on that...<br /></p><p> So today I originally had requested off, but ye ole' Starbucks didn't let me have it off, so I gave my shift away. Then like an idiot I took someone else's shift in an earlier time... stupid, stupid, stupid! Head... hit... keyboard. So it started with me teaching a girl that's been there 6 weeks to do the bar... Which she should have already learned... a long time ago! So I'm just standing there painfully watching her try to do bar... and teaching her. Then of course we get swamped, I take over get us caught up, then we try again. She finally gets the hang of it... and the peasants rejoiced... big time.<br /></p><p> So finally I ask the boss on duty if I could go. Just when I was about to till out and go home, the girl I had been training gets sick and starts throwing up, or tossing her cookies, bowing to the white throne... or whatever you want to call it. Then within two minutes of that, the guy that was supposed to be there in like 3 minutes calls and says he'll be late! So... 30 min later I finally get to till out and leave, but wait! The boss that finally gave me release to go is counting his till! So why don't I wait some more!!! I don't have a life, really! I mean for the love of donuts. Anyway I finally got to leave, and now I hope that my weekend will take a turn for the better with Ali's Super Bowl Party tonight... well, ok...until next time...bye.</p>BenR24http://www.blogger.com/profile/17572333091495893720noreply@blogger.com0