Olympian in quality!

Can you believe it? I am sitting outside right now, writing a post. I'm just like Thoreau (Henry David), except my writing has much less of a dirty hippy slant. However, I am overlooking a pond (albeit only by standing on my tippy-toes [tamob first use of "tippy-toes!"], and the pond is really just runoff water from rains past, and to call the viewing of it "transcendental" is practically illegal in the grossness of its falsity) and feeling like the wilderness is not that far away really.

On to more dire topics: what's the winter olympics about, eh? That stuff is UNWATCHABLE. I can see that the things these athletes are perpetrating are incredible, but I cannot stand to watch it. How many downhill runs do you have to watch before you realize they are all doing the exact same thing? Honestly, the only reason people watch these events is to see whether or not someone will fall. I am one of these people, as ashamed as I am to admit it; however, I take no delight in the crashing of one of these people. I don't enjoy it at all, especially when you consider how long someone trains for these events. Heartbreaking, really.

I have a theory on crashing however: the likelihood in any given event of a crash or mishap of some sort is directly related to the likelihood of someone to initially watch event, as evidenced by a graph I can see in my head but have neither the patience nor the wherewithal to make on a computer. Sorry, curling, but we are unlikely to see a heartbreaking mishap in your sport. As such, the only way we see your sport is by accidentally not changing the channel immediately after a sport with perilous implications ends. Which is unfortunate, because curling has the propensity to be pretty cool. Alas, most of us will never know. I mean, just think how disappointed you would be if you won tickets to an olympic event, only to find out that the event to which you had won tickets was actually curling. Shock and despair, friends, shock and despair.

Also, the winter olympics gives the horrible beast that is Mary Carillo another chance to rear its ugly head. I cannot handle this wo(?)man! She is just awful. Last night she did a segment about the RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police, not to be confused with the RHCP [Red Hot Chili Peppers] or the even less known RCMB [Red Canterbury Munchkin Band]). It was both unenjoyable and highly condescending at the same time, proving that both women and beasts have the capacity for multi-tasking.

What do you guys think about the winter olympics? While watching them I sometimes wish that there were a rule that stated that for one day of competition, each event should have to wear the same outfits as their country's ice dancing troupe. Agree, disagree? Thoughts?

Regardless, having written whilst outside, and in light of the magnificent text I have just made a reality, I feel the only things that really separate me from being a truly famous writer are the lack of the following items:

pipe of mahogany

five days growth of stubble

non-combatted alcohol problem

fear of abandonment

Thanks for tuning in, and if you didn't tune in, thanks for nothing.

"Pardon me, I just have a slight frog in my throat."

-(Possibly never actually said by) Alexander Hamilton, tract writing brit-disliker who died in a duel, one of the confirmed coolest things to be a part of, but actually a pretty weak thing to lose.

the greatest valentine's story ever told

I hope, first and foremost, that all of you had a fantastic VD. What a day, right? And President's day tomorrow! One of my favorite occasionally observed holidays.

A number of you are without question asking yourselves, "What did Ben do on VD10?" First, thanks for asking, second, hold on to your seats, because I'm 'bout to throw down. This very evening, I caught the prime-time showing of the high-budget film, "Valentines Day," and sat in the back of the theater, weeping loudly, between sobs exclaiming with deep anguish, "I'm so lonely," and, "If only I were wealthy," hoping that the happy couples around me would feel one of several emotions: happiness in their own securities as couples; guilt for their glee, while others CLEARLY suffer alone; complete insensitivity and apathy towards others; fear that the female half of their couples would gravitate towards the attractive gent making the noise in the back of the theater; or, finally, extreme discomfort and antipathy about the entire situation.

The above paragraph is not true, although I do wish it were. Rather, in honor of VD, I gave blood yesterday (perhaps those of you who are stalking me more fervently and feel the need to possess some of my blood, you have a chance). Today began with some exercise, followed by a heavy breakfast of swedish pancakes stacked to the rafters. Then I worked on my car and went to work from 3:30 to 7:30. So, that's how it went.

However, I finished the evening with pizza. So, if you felt inclined to give me your pity, I ask only that you remember that an evening with pizza is pretty darn close to romance for me (, ladies).

"Shot to the heart and you're to blame."

- John Francis Bongiovi, Jr., thin, screeching long haired son of a marine hairdresser.

Super Bowl post

I am currently watching the super bowl, as many of my readers probably are as well. I am pulling for the Saints, not so much because I like them, but more because I dislike Peyton Manning.

The Saints just recovered the onside kick to begin the second half. Neat.

And they just scored. The amount of time it took me between those last couple of sentences is a shame, but the game is riveting.

Of course you all know that The Who played the half time show. It seems like ever since Justin Timberlake pulled half of Janet Jackson's top (which contained a design, which, while impractical and surely uncomfortable to wear as a functional piece of clothing, worked pretty well as a single-bosom revealer) off, the half time entertainment has only been provided by individuals who haven't been regarded as sex symbols for the better part of the last century. It is much less likely that Tom Petty or his heartbreaking homies would flash a part of themselves than for Britney Spears to find it within her capacities to show more leg than the general public is comfortable with.

Now the Colts have scored. Again I am sad.

My mom is flying in this evening. Unfortunately for her, she is arriving in Portland during the game, so she is going to have to hang out for a little while. Sorry, mom, but this is why we try to plan our travel AROUND certain events.

Did you guys hear about that explosion in Connecticut? It was at a power plant. That's pretty weak. Five people confirmed dead, many more injured.

On more a more positive note, Obama is going to hold a bipartisan summit on health care. Hooray. I was wondering when he would call a summit. They are so effective, and really, I think we can all agree, a great way to spend money that we don't have. That's the thing about being in debt (as we assuredly are): we have negative money. That means if something is free, WE STILL CAN'T AFFORD IT. If something costs $0, that is in fact more than we have. So, just think about that. Or don't. Maybe we should have a summit to talk about it. I have an idea, let's invite people who have completely opposite opinions and no willingness to change!

But I digress.

Go Saints.

"Thruppence and sixpence every day, just to see my baby."

-Roger Daltrey, elderly harmonica-sporting friend of a guitar-disliker.