Bells will be ringing

My best friend is getting married next month. The first time I met him we were on the playground in kindergarten. I was putting the mack on his cousin at the time and he didn't like it. We got into a fight that day. Since then we've been through more experiences and gotten into more trouble together than anyone should ever know about.
We both went to SFA after high school. I graduated first and moved up here to DFW. He has since moved up this way as well.
His bachelor party will be this Saturday. I can't believe he's actually getting married.
When I tell people from our hometown that he's about to tie the knot they think I'm joking. To say he was a womanizer in the past would be an understatement. His favorite pickup line was, "Hey you wanna get high?"
He has since changed his ways and it's all his fiancee's fault. She's awesome.
I couldn't be happier for the guy. He's got a great life ahead of him.
I'm going to make a toast at his wedding, drink like a fish and dance like a fool.

A place where even squares can have a ball

If you ever get a chance to visit Oklahoma, don't. Just do something else. Oklahoma is unremarkable to say the least. I was not impressed. at all. The beer there is like water. 3.2% alcohol. I probably had about eight...teen of them and wasn't even feeling it. That's when I switched to the Kentucky Deluxe.

We didn't do well in the tournament. Went 3-4 (7 games!) and lost all of our games by 3 runs or less. Generally, the hits were few and far between. Although we did finally get crunked up in the last game, scoring 22 runs. More than we'd scored the entire day.
In between games we drank whiskey and beer while listening to Dwight Yoakum and April Wine. It was a good time despite all of the losing.
Although my arm is pretty much dead, the rest of my body is not as sore as I imagined it would be.

I have decided that all of this softball is going to have an impact on my outward appearance. Therefore, I'm now growing a full-on goatee.
Soon I'll either begin cultivating a mullett or shaving my head.
Then I'll get a pair of baseball pants (breaking a vow I made after my senior year of high school baseball to never wear those again).
Eventually I will muster up the courage to get a barbed wire tattoo on one arm and a Tazmanian Devil tat on the other (or possibly one of those cool tribal ones, maybe even a Chinese symbol).
I'll carry around a ginormous wheeled softball bag filled with dozens of bats and hundreds of various weighted balls.
I'll talk extensively of the differences between ASA and USSSA (U-trip) leagues.
I'll begin taking steroids to bulk up (show off those killer tats) and wear sleeveless shirts (maybe even a shimmel shirt once in a while).
I'll play in beginner leagues during the week to show off and build my confidence, then play state tournaments in odd places (like Oklahoma City) on the weekends.
I'll drop my whole paycheck on the newest Miken bat just to be the first guy swinging it.
Then I will truly become the true definition of the redneck softball junky.
I am well on my way.

Boomer or bust

I must be a sucker for punishment. I've agreed to play in an all-day softball tournament this saturday.
In Oklahoma, no less. Home of the Fat Girl. Where the men are men and the sheep are scared.
I've never been to Oklahoma. Apparently there's just not much up there to do. Except play softball I guess.
Speaking of which, we won our game last night. But it was a fugly win. A nasty dropped flyball, hit-your-damn-cutoff-man, the other team just sucked worse win. A W is a W, I guess.

Other than softball I really don't have much else going on right now. Been organizing my best friend's bachelor party, which is next weekend. Trying (unsuccessfully) to save money for that. Should be fun.

Work sucks. The morning meetings have been moved to 9 a.m., which is good. But now we're having them every day and they last almost an hour. I want to shoot myself about 10 minutes into it. How some of these people got to the positions they're in boggles the mind.

That's enough meaningless ramble for now. Have a good day. No HNT for me. The new phone doesn't like to share. It's greedy but I still like it.
Peace in the muthafuckin' middle east.

I'm too old for this shit

Friday night I went to Sneaky Pete's with LukeDuke and his friend, the Dude. We had some Jager bombs and watched a kickass band. Then we went back to the Dude's trailer park and talked to some high school kids. LukeDuke broke out the guee-tar and we drunkenly sang along to "Curtis Lowe", "Willin", and "Country Boy Can Survive". Good times. I passed out on the couch and spooned with some cats.

We woke up Saturday morning and played golf at a par-3 9-hole course near Lake Lewisville. It was cheap and easy. Just how I like them.
Saturday night I went to one of the best concerts ever with the Belldoorlover. Jimmy Eat World opened for them and I was really excited about seeing them, but was very disappointed in their performance. It was kind of shitty and lasted only about 30 minutes.
Green Day on the other hand, they rocked like none other. The show was intense and they really got the crowd involved. Even if it did feel like a Nazi rally at times.
The best part was when they pulled these kids up on stage to play for them. It was awesome. First they found a drummer in the audience, then a bass player, and finally a guitar player. Three random people from the pit got to play in front of thousands while Billy Joe sang.
That's some cool shit right there.

Sunday I played in a co-ed softball tournament with my cousin. She's on a good team and they needed an extra guy. It was a small 3-team tournament and we ended up killing both of the other teams. We walked away with the championship and some shirts.
The games were at 12, 2, and 4. The temperature for each game was about 100, 105, and 110. Seriously, I think I lost about 5 pounds just standing in the heat alone. Nevermind all the running.

Monday night we had a tripleheader with games at 6, 7, and 8. After playing all day Sunday I was pretty sore. By the middle of our first game I thought my arm would fall off and my right calf started tightening up. But I played through it. I'm a gamer.
We won the first two games and lost the last one on a close play. It seemed like we were just out of gas.

Today I'm hobbling around like an old man. My arm hurts. My right calf is not functioning properly at all. My ass hurts. My neck pops every time I move it. And for some strange reason the 4th toe on my right foot has curled up under my 3rd toe, making it painful to walk on the outside of my foot.
I just want to sit in a hot tub and get a good massage. Anybody up for it?

When the Skittles start hitting you on the head, RUN!

Sorry guys, can't do HNT this week. The new phone isn't cooperating in that department. Other than that, I love it.

Deep breath. This is a long one...

So the immovable object/irresistible force thing is out the window. We lost (were robbed of) our first game last night against the same team we schelacked last week. The umps did a shitty job and we played like left-handed little girls on roller skates.
I blame it on the 2 new guys we picked up. They are a fat father and son duo. Pitcher and rightfielder. They're throwing our chemistry off. But they paid their money, so we gotta let 'em play.
And if Monday and Wednesday games weren't enough, now I've gone and committed to playing co-ed on Sundays with my cousin. We start this Sunday with a doubleheader. Then I have a tripleheader Monday.
Great. Break out the IcyHot.

After the games me, Teer, and Saltdog went to a pool hall/sports bar we hadn't been to yet. It was a very cool place. However, the service was ATROCIOUS. It took us 45 minutes to get our second beers. Forty. Five. Minutes.
It was all the stupid bartender's fault. She was about 50 and acted like a maniac. She actually told one of the waitresses, "I need you guys to go on break. I have to do some dishes and this shit is killin' me."
She said this while about 8 people were standing around waiting for drinks.
I was a bartender in BoozeCapital, USA for a good year. Haven't been behind a bar (legally) in a solid 2 years. I could've worked circles around this old lady last night.
So I casually ask the waitress if they were hiring, because I could always use some extra cash.
"Nope. Owner only hires girls."
WHAAAA? Garbage you say?
Don't get me wrong. I've known and worked with many excellent female bartenders. Hell, I even see what the guy is up to. Get good-lookin' girl to work the bar and cocktail, bring in the dudes. But no freakin' wonder the place was so fucked up. It was like two monkey fuckin' a football in there.
Did I mention that our waitress had a SLAYER tatoo on her right arm. Slayer. The hardcore deathmetal whatever band. Classy girls in that place, let me tell ya.
And the Owner was shitfaced. He almost beat the crap out of some regular who complained about his tab. Seriously had to be restrained by the Bouncer.
Enter the Bouncer - all 450 pounds of him. He'd check IDs a little, then get up on stage and karaoke to Al Green or something. Did a pretty decent job too. I liked him immediately.

So we finally get a pitcher from the waitress because single beers take WAAAY too long. We'd already played pool and foosball. Next was darts.
As we're moving towards the dartboard, the Gayest Man Ever jumps out onto the dance floor and starts doing cheerleader moves. Serious cheerleader moves. Toe-touches and rah-rahs and shit.
Then he comes over and starts talking to me. I hate this. I hate being tolerant. Why me?
He starts telling me about how he coaches cheer at Such-and-such High School and all I'm doing is covering my cornhole and avoiding eye contact.
Then I was saved by the funniest little skunk-striped hair having girl in the place, Gin. She's a bartender and interrupted by saying, "Maintain."
Just that. Maintain. That's all she said and the little flamer went away.
I was awestruck. Is this some secret homo password I don't know. Like the way attack dogs are trained to heel when you say "Gugenheimer", the unwanted sexual advances of gay men can be halted by saying, "Maintain"?
No, it wasn't that. She knows the guy cause he's a regular and their little pet. But when he starts scaring off the straights she has to tell him to maintain his composure.
I was amazed and thankful to no end.
That's when she said the funniest thing I'd heard in a long time (title of post), "When the skittles start hitting you on the head, RUN!!". (Ya know, like in the commercials - Taste the Rainbow)
I laughed and laughed.

We're going back next week.

Highs and Lows - Gutters and Strikes

Very quickly because I'm swamped here, this is the weekend story.

Thursday afternoon I left work around 2:15 p.m. (15 minutes after my boss left) and drove down to Beaumont for the Jason Boland concert. The concert was the definition of awesomeness.
I'm worried about Jason, though. He's too skinny. Probably the drugs.
Anyway, I ended up getting surrounded by a bunch of Brooke's (my ex-girlfriend/still-good-friend) co-workers and challenging them all to a fight. I'd had a few too many Jagers and they were pushing up on her a little too much for my liking.
So with a head full of booze and directions to the main assholes house, I set off at 2 a.m. to kick the shit out of him.
Note: This is totally out of character for me to behave this way. I got a little out of hand with the booze and I absolutely cannot stand for someone to put their finger in my face.
After banging on his door for a good 15 minutes, I left. The neighbors were on the porch.
Passed out on Brooke's couch and woke at 8 a.m. to her apologizing for her behavior. She was pretty trashed too and kind of instigated the whole confrontation. Drama queen.

Friday I played golf with an old friend on his birthday and visited with my mom and little brother. Friday night I went to see my dad play the guitar at a coffee house.
Left that night for Galveston at around 11 p.m. Arrived around 1 a.m.
Met the old crew from high school at a little Irish bar on the Strand and got obliterated in about an hour. Then we walked up and down the beach drinking Jager and telling old stories until the wee hours.
Actually strolled up to the front desk of the nicest hotel on the island in flip flops, shorts, and a tank top, rolling a cooler full of High Life through the lobby and demanded a room. Got it.

Saturday we were treated to a dinner by the father of my old friend The Bronald (named so because he has hair like Trump). Then it was back to the hotel for beers by the pool.
That lasted about 30 minutes. They kicked us out for sneaking our cooler into the pool area.
Did I tell you this place was ritzy? It was like the Clampetts Go to Galveston.
So we decide the best place for white trash like us is the beach. And that's where we spent the day sailing, drinking, joking, remembering old times, and hitting golf balls into the ocean.
I also got shit on by a seagull. Second time in 6 months a bird has shit on me. What are the odds?
At this point I would have a great pic to show you guys but you already know about the phone and it's sudden untimely death.
Afterwards it was off to shower and get ready for another night on the town.
We hit a few bars and drank way too much.
Ended up back at the hotel pool where I met a beautiful young lady from Humble. She was gorgeous. We danced in the pool and made out like junior high kids in the hot tub. I got her number and promised to call her soon.
Then my cell phone died.
She's gone forever.
I don't even remember her name now.

I love Galveston.

Damn you Tommy Tutone!!!

It's official. The cell phone has passed away and taken my phone book with it.
Services will be held tonight at an as yet undetermined sports bar in the Dallas/Addison/Plano area.

I went to the Sprint Store after work to see if the phone could be salvaged. No such luck.
So then I broke out The Beast. The big black 4 pounder with humongous buttons and a dangly wrist strap.
The Sprint guys almost shit themselves. But they hooked it up and it worked. Kind of.
The battery wouldn't stay on for more than 5 minutes, but it let me return a few calls and clear up a few things.
Then I got fed up with it and decided to purchase another phone at a smaller phone store down the road.
Best idea I ever had.
They originally sold me a practically new camera phone that was pretty sweet for a very reasonable price. But when I tried to activate it, the numbers weren't recognized by Sprint.
So they let me have an even better, video camera phone for the same price!
Suckers.

So feel free to email your number to me. Otherwise I've got no way to get at you.

Hold yer horses

I'm going to post about the KICKASS weekend I had, but not until later. I need to post some pics off my camera phone and have a few cold beers to tell the story in the right state of mind.
The phone is at the Sprint place getting "looked at" by a "technician".
I fear it is dead and I won't have the pics. I already wrote the eulogy for it below, but I'm clinging to a faint glimmer of hope that it can be salvaged.
If not, I've got a ginormous backup phone that my aunt left behind. It seriously weighs about 2 pounds and is roughly 4 times the size of my old one.

Here lies Darrel's cell phone

R.I.P. Silver Samsung Camera Phone
2003 - 2005
You were a good friend and trustworthy companion.
May your memory live on, so that I will not have to obtain the 3,000,000 phone numbers hidden in your remarkable little brain.
You will be missed.

(I'm probably over-reacting. The guy at the Sprint Store said it might just need a new battery or something. I still hate Sprint, though)

If you smellllllllll what the OB is cookin'

HNT is in the heezee for sheezee my neezee.

The Wednesday night softball team just might be that immovable object, that irresistible force, I was talking about earlier in the week. We wrecked shop on those fools last night. I got 3 hits, drank a full 16 oz. beer, and smoke half a cigarette (don't know why, it just seemed like the thing to do) in the top half of the 2nd inning of our first game. We scored 16 runs before we had an out.

And it's not like the other team was that bad. We just hit the ball like it was a red-headed stepchild. It felt good to win big again. 24-5 and 22-14.

Anyway, I'm out of here today. Taking a day off from work and going to Beaumont tonight to see JASON BOLAND AND THE STRAGGLERS!! if I can still get tickets.

Have fun. be safe. don't work too hard. suckers.

Welcome to Shitty Wok. Would you like to try our Shitty Shrimp?

Seriously, this is the rundown of a conversation I had with HNG the other day. I wasn't going to post about it but recent behavior on her part has warranted the validation of her idiocy.

Me: So, how long were you and your Baby'sDaddy together?
HNG: Not long. It's kind of weird but she wasn't really an "accident".
Me: .... (eyebrow cocked to one side. head turned on shoulder) Whaaaa?
HNG: Well, I've always wanted an Asian baby and BabyDaddy is Vietnamese...
Me: (thinking - how far is it to that door?) Hmmmmmmm.
HNG: I just wanted to have a kid before I get too old, ya know? that and I'm really fertile.
Me: (standing up and stretching, inching towards the door) I think I hear the dog barking. Better go. Later.

Crazy and whore-ish as the HNG may be, she's still pretty damn hot. I need to get out more. I guess the only reason I even considered hooking up with her is because it would be so convenient.
What do you guys think?

Would you like brown gravy or white on that?

Today is a special day for me. It's Wednesday, meaning the work week is halfway over.
But that's not why today is special. No.
Today is $1.99 CHICKEN FRIED STEAK DAY at KFC!!!
(Yeah, this gets me excited. Turns me on even.)
A decent little chicken fried steak, two sides, and a biscuit for under 2 bucks.
Can't beat it with a stick.

Playing a doubleheader tonight. Must keep the undefeated streak alive.
Must. not. drink. before. the. game. (too much)

And here's a pic of my dog, just because he rocks.


Peace out.

The devil is dead. Long live the devil.

The unthinkable has happened. The irresistible force has been resisted. The immovable object has been moved.
The 11 game win streak for the Monday night softball team has come to an end. In gut-wrenching fashion too.
With 2 outs and a man on third, the opposing team needed only one run to win the game. A one-hopper to our left fielder (FIS) should have easily scored the wining run, but these jackasses were being all nonchalant and shit. So FIS fires the ball home and has the guy out by a mile.
And the damn catcher dropped the ball! Would've ended the inning and given us another chance to come back.
Oh well, these things happen.
You can't win 'em all I guess.
Doesn't bother me at all. no really I'm not mad. really. I'll get over it.
We've still got an undefeated team on Wednesday nights.

Also, FOOTBALL IS BACK!!!
I know it's only preseason, but damn it's good to see the game I love being played again.
It's the most wonderful time of the year....

And now, boys and girls, it's story time:
The Horse, the Harley, and the Chicken
On the farm lived a chicken and a horse, both of whom loved to play together. One day the two were playing, when the horse fell into a bog and began to sink. Scared for his life, the horse whinnied for the chicken to go get the farmer for help!>
Off the chicken ran, back to the farm. Arriving at the farm, he searched and searched for the farmer, but to no avail, for he had gone to town with the only tractor. Running around, the chicken spied the farmer's new Harley. Finding the keys in the ignition, the chicken sped off with a length of rope hoping he still had time to save his friend's life.>
Back at the bog, the horse was surprised, but happy, to see the chicken arrive on the shiny Harley, and he managed to get a hold of the loop of rope the chicken tossed to him. After tying the other end to the rear bumper of the farmer's bike, the chicken then drove slowly forward and, with the aid of the powerful bike, rescued the horse!!
Happy and proud, the chicken rode the Harley back to the farmhouse and the farmer was none the wiser when he returned. The friendship between the two animals was cemented: Best Buddies, BestPals.>
A few weeks later, the chicken fell into a mudpit, and soon, he too, began to sink and cried out to the horse to save his life! The horse thought a moment, walked over, and straddled the large puddle. Looking underneath, he told the chicken to grab his hangy-down thing and he would then lift him out of the pit. The chicken gota good grip, and the horse pulled him up and out, saving his life.
The moral of the story? (yep, there's a moral!) "When You're Hung Like A Horse, You Don't Need A Harley To Pick Up Chicks!"

Insert appropriate title

So I didn't make the 5 hour drive home this weekend. I felt like shit Friday after lunch (see previous post) and decided it would probably be a bad idea to get behind the wheel with a head full of misery and very little sleep. It was also raining.
Plus I needed to come into work Saturday morning and get a few things done that I'd neglected.
So that's what I did. Slept about 12 hours Friday night and worked (a little) Saturday. I also got a lot of the new Palahniuk book read. It's good. Not great, but still good.

Saw this truck in my parking lot. It is all I ever wanted. I will have one. Toyota Tacoma X-Runner. So clean.

I also cleared a few things up with the HNG (hot neighbor girl). There will be no relationship there. After picking her brain for a few hours I realized that she's scandalous, shady, fickle, and slutty. She also doesn't have a single girl friend. Not one. Odd. why not? I thought girls stick together and stuff. Because she's scandalous and backstabbing? probably.
And she's got a 2-year-old daughter. But that's not really a problem. I like kids.
Anyway, I'm over it. No really it doesn't bother me at all.

So yesterday I went to the pool with Jose, Candace, and their friend Dumbass. We set up the volleyball net, got some floats in the pool, ran an extension cord out, set up the TV (big NASCAR race), and fired up the grill.

About 4 High Lifes and 2 games of dominoes into the party the bottom fell out of the sky and drenched us. We salvaged the TV and made our way to the covered walkway.
We spent the rest of the afternoon cooking on the porch and drinking beer. I turned in about 6 and passed out on the couch.
Got a call from an old friend around 8 and stayed up late playing Literati.
Now I'm back at work again.

Sorry I haven't been posting much, but I think I'll do more this week as I have much on my mind and I'd like some feedback about it. 'Til then.

These things come in threes

As if this week hadn't been shitty enough, I find out this morning that one of my old high school buddy's dad died yesterday. Sudden heart attack.
Also, LukeDuke's cousin (who I dated briefly in junior high) died last night and was brought back with the paddles. She's in ICU and not doing well. Had a pre-existing heart condition.
No update on Alan's condition.

And now... a 5 hour drive on 4 hours sleep. Shoot me in the face.

Don't call it a comeback

I been here for years.

The camera phone takes pics of me and I'm putting them up on HNT for all to see.

I can't rap.

Alan is doing much better, but the doctor says he'll have amnesia when he wakes up. So everyone is getting pictures together and sending them to his hospital room. Hopefully that will help recover some of the memories. At least it'll be a reminder of who he is and that we care about him. Thanks for the prayers.

If You're Gonna Be Dumb You Gotta Be Tough

To start out on a very serious note, one of my fraternity brothers was in a bad car wreck this weekend. He was put in a coma to help the healing process and all signs indicate he'll pull through, but things are going to be very tough for him and his new family. He got married last year and just recently had a son.
Please say a prayer for Alan Ford and his family.

In other news, we won our first game Monday night but really didn't play as well as we should. It was a close game. We start the Wednesday night league tonight.

Last night LukeDuke got up at Fox & Hound and played the guitar. He just walked up and asked the house band if they minded him playing a few songs during their break. They agreed.
It was his first public performance in front of complete strangers. He was awesome.
First he played Margaritaville. And that got a great response from the crowd. Who doesn't like to sing along to Margaritaville?
Then he played Changes (I think that's the name) by Lynyrd Skynyrd. It's a great song, but kind of slow and preachy. Didn't get the same response, but still sounded really good.
I was that guy in the back whoopin' and hollerin'.
"You're my boy, LukeDuke!!!"

Also, the HNG is scandalous and shady. I don't think I want to hook up with her.

and one last thing... the Belldoorlover already knows this, but guys in pink shirts make me laugh. I will make fun of you. To your face if I must.

For the fans

We're starting a new Monday night softball league tonight. If you'll remember, we went 9-0 in the last league. This time they've put us in a bracket with some much tougher competition.

The Wednesday night league also went undefeated (10-0) last season and will begin a new season in two days. We will also be placed into a tougher bracket.

That is all.