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Hit It and Quidditch

Hit It and Quidditch

Mighty Taco…I see you.  Once again, I’m making my way back up to the frigidly mean streets of Buffalo.  My routinely brief 4-day vacation in Atlanta has come to its unfortunate end yet again (I am on a 10-day-on, 4-day-off work schedule).  For a city that I adore as much as Atlanta, my job has transformed it from the loving wife I spend every night with to the tantalizing skank I frolic and lollygag with on the weekend.  Every other Tuesday, I discreetly leave the money on Atlanta’s nightstand and shimmy my way on over to the airport.  You might as well call me Harry Potter, because I hit it and Quidditch every other weekend. 

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Statute of Dopeness

Statute of Dopeness

Truth be told, I can’t even recall how long it’s been since I’ve last felt the literary gumption to note down anything of inconsequential substance. In all honesty, things done changed quite a bit in my life since I’ve last posted. Unbelievable as it may sound, someone outside of their sane mind actually decided to suffer the unfortunate fate of spending the rest of their life with me. I know…I know…like you, I shudder in sympathy for my significantly better half. I mean, let’s keeps it real…George Clooney…I ain’t. So, needless to say, ish been a bit crazy over the past 6-8 months with the sandstorm of wedding activity that was swirling around in the stratosphere of my life. I spent many an hour many a night diddling around with the most miniscule of wedding details. So, there wasn’t really nary a minute for me to devote to blogging down any thoughts. Believe you me, I wanted to throw down some thoughts from my wedding weekend lunacy, but just couldn’t find the time nor motivation to get around to sharing my thoughts with my devoted quartet of readers.

Anyways, things have settled down somewhat now. I’ve been married (wow, still sounds a little foreign saying that) for over two months now. The Honeymoon (Thailand – Phuket, Chiang Mai, and Bangkok) exceeded any statute of dopeness I could’ve drafted prior to departure.

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Fabricated Wins from the Cloth of Despair

Fabricated Wins from the Cloth of Despair

As spare time becomes sparse and complacency teeters on the edge of becoming commonplace, very infrequently do I find myself inspired to blog.  Truth be told, the indiscriminate culprit is probably more a haphazard concoction of apathy and ambivalence than anything else.

Like I said, recently, I’ve needed great inspiration to fuel any ambition of mine to blog.  That inspiration would be the Dallas Mavericks winning the NBA title…and, more importantly, Dirk Nowitzki finally validating himself as one of the great power forwards of all time.  Back in 2006, when the Dallas Mavericks gakked up a title that they appeared destined to win, I was out of the country and wasn’t able to catch up with the NBA Finals until weeks later.  I was pulling heavily for Nowitzki and his Mavs in 2006.  Ironically enough, I saw the Dallas Mavericks finally extinguish those irrepressibly dark memories of 2006…outside of the country. 

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Flowers Out the Wazoo, Drapes Up the Hoo Hah

Flowers Out the Wazoo, Drapes Up the Hoo Hah

What better motivation to blog than when stuck sitting idly by as an Indian wedding proceeds.  Believe you me, an Indian wedding is a spectacle to behold – for those that haven’t ever witnessed it.  After you’ve attended a few, the traditional proceedings can appear borderline cumbersome.  So, when the goblin of monotony annoyingly tickles the brain stem of my attention, I consult alternate methods of entertainment.  The smartphone. Giggidy.

All of this weekend’s wedding festivities are taking place in the spectacularly mundane streets of Mactown.  The couple getting married today must’ve broken off a slice of expensive, gourmet bread.  They did it right.  Flowers out the wazoo, drapes up the hoo hah.  Fist tap and kudos to the bride and groom for doing it big.  I’ll actually be getting married in this same building (a Hindu temple) in less than six months.  My Cinnabun hails from the nook and cranny of Macon (Forsyth – the city, not the county) – so there really ain’t no other place to have a bloated wedding than at the temple.  We definitely ain’t got the means to go all out like this couple did. 

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Canas, Tapas, and Bendy Straws

Canas, Tapas, and Bendy Straws

This is a draft I wrote after coming back from my most recent trip to Spain in October of 2009.  It’s been sitting around in my drafts folder for an embarrassing minute.  I guess I just never got around to publishing it…until now.

Was I really chowing down a falafel from Maoz in Madrid just over two weeks ago?  Did I have to board the bullet train of time back to the daily grind?

Southern Spain.  Beautiful…and…cheap(er).  This marked my 3rd time being in Spain (other times being when I studied abroad in Valencia and when I backpacked through Western Europe during the 2006 World Cup).  So, I didn’t exactly experience that “wow” factor that most folks do when witnessing the opulent splendor of a country as historically significant and aesthetically breathtaking as Spain. 

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Undeterred by an Impotence of Intelligence and Significant Lack of Foresight

Undeterred by an Impotence of Intelligence and Significant Lack of Foresight

I’m going to do something I’ve only attempted a few times on this blog:  predict the outcome of a sports event.  The last time I did this, I tried to predict the top 10 picks of the 2006 NFL Draft.  How brilliant were my predictions?  Ummm….what had happened was…I mean…ya never know…umm…flip happens…ya know?  My predictions didn’t exactly lather themselves up with the soap of profound accuracy.  I only predicted 2 out of the top 10 picks correctly.  I had Matt Leinart going to the Tennessee Titans (mostly because of the Norm Chow-USC connection) and I had Jay Cutler being drafted by the Arizona Cardinals (among a slew of other asinine conjectures).

Nevertheless, undeterred by an impotence of intelligence and significant lack of foresight, I set my sights on the the 2011 NFL Divisional Playoffs.  At least I ain’t nearly as inept a soothsayer as my friend The Hamster who predicted that the Seattle Seahawks would get anally raped by at least 2 touchdowns last week against the Saints.  Now…everyone and their 3rd cousin’s sister were predicting similar outcomes for that game, so I’ll dice that man some slack.  However…

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It’s Like Mother Nature Trotted Out Mariano Rivera in the 9th

It’s Like Mother Nature Trotted Out Mariano Rivera in the 9th

The snowstorm that has hit the city ironically referred to as Hotlanta has rendered me crib-ridden for the past 3 days.  This is crazy stuff.  The city of Atlanta at the mercy of…snow?  This, folks, rarely happens here.  More often than not, on the rare occasion that it has snowed down here, it has normally melted away the day after.  We’ve rarely been subjugated to any post-traumatic weather consequences.  However, this time around, we’ve had ice on the roads for the past 3 days (and will probably continue to have it for the next day or so). This is the first natural catastrophe over the past 5 years that I’ve actually been present for.  The snowstorm we had on Christmas Day in The A a few weeks back?  I was in Macon – where it didn’t snow nary an inch.  The tornado that hit downtown years ago and caused damage to buildings throughout Downtown?  I was in Savannah for St. Patty’s Day.  The flood that hit the city that had most of Buckhead submerged beneath inches of water?  I was traveling for business on the Left Coast.  So, I’ve finally experienced a natural disaster in this city.  You may be smirking in reticence…but…

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I’m on That Madeleine Peyroux Ish

I’m on That Madeleine Peyroux Ish

Panera, as previously written, has become my preeminent hotspot of incremental progress.  As I wrote before, home is where complacency festers more fervently than the stench of inedible fruit in the fridge.  So, I get out of the home to draw some sort of inspiration or at least to feel some sort of satisfaction that I haven’t sat fermenting on the sofa all day.  Not exactly mankind leaps…I know…but…hey…baby steps done gonna have to suffice in the meantime.

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The Phone that Drove me to the Brink of Infidelity

The Phone that Drove me to the Brink of Infidelity

I’ve learned that I’m infinitely more productive outside the confines of my cozy crib.  Maybe this explains why everybody and their 3rd cousin’s coffeeshop is jam packed with degenerate java geeks all the time.  A word to the wise, steer away from any and all Starbucks.  I remember driving around one day a few weeks back looking for a sweet spot to study at for the PE exam I took last month – only to come up grasping the acrid aroma of disappointment.  

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Do NOT Friggin’ Dare Dismiss The Peppered Cashews

Do NOT Friggin’ Dare Dismiss The Peppered Cashews

Absent of reason nor cognizant of rhyme, I blog again.  Purpose?   Do I ever really have one?  My thoughts are an independent contractor freelancin’ for mere flips and wiggles.

Ademas…months…nearly years ago…I pined for the alleged luster and shine of the unemployed life.  I often wondered then if indeed the grass was truly “greener on the other side”.  Well…

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