Monday, June 29, 2009

A bad day golfing...

beats a good day doing just about anything else. And I am a terrible golfer. I think that helps me enjoy it more than people who are great, good, or decent. If you have ability you're almost obligated to get pissed at yourself when you hit a lousy shot. Me, on the other hand, I look at it in terms of value. Maybe if I focused really hard and hit the range a lot and got nice clubs (instead of the Sam Snead signature blades I hit) I could shoot an 85 (ok, 95...let's be serious..). But this is simple economics, people. I like to go and get my money's worth. See the whole course. If I take a 110 swings, so be it. It's a better value and I still have fun. Sometimes I hit the shit out of the ball. This year I've been dealing with a little push (read: significant slice. Not a Lawler slice, but still poor..) off the tee, but I figure the best way to solve that minor problem is just to swing harder. That way when I do catch it I feel awesome.

But, ya. I got to the course at 7:30am to get soaked today and I couldn't have been happier with how things turned out. Hell, I was a professional golfer for the day. I got a sponsor's exemption (Skip's 4th guy had to bail, so I got late the call up) and made money by playing (2nd closest to the pin on hole #8. Twenty five bones in my pocket. Proof I can play a little bit. No big deal. Be impressed.).


Silver Anniversary (And every silver lining has a touch of grey..)

A couple of you remembered that I had a birthday last week (To those of you who remembered, I thank you. To those who didn't, don't feel bad. I don't know when your birthdays are, either.). The big Two-Five. Yippee. I guess I'm old by some standards. But young by others. Whatever. I don't really care for birthdays. I hid the ol' birth date for a week or so leading up. I'm sneaky; I don't see it as a good reason to go out and party. I don't really need or care for an excuse to party. When I want to go out and have a beer, then I go out and have a beer. When I don't want to, I don't. It's really that simple. Had my birthday fallen on a Thursday this year then chances are I would have been out and about, but more so because I like to go to Gipper's on Thursdays and drink half priced beers. Shrewd move, I know. I'm financially savvy, we've been over this many times before. Count your change, people.

The only thing this birthday made me realize is I'm 25 and I still live with my parents. And that probably makes me a lame ass, lazy person who doesn't want to get a legitimate job. Culturally I'm probably looked at poorly, even though most people will say to my face "Oh, well saving money is smart." Pure BS, but thanks for trying to make me feel better.

So here is my query to (the few of..) you out there: What would I be good at? It doesn't have to be groundbreaking and my future for the next 40 years, but what should I do that would allow me to get out of my efficiency which is located in the same place I've lived for the last 23 or so years. Sorry, Skip and Marie. I think it's time for me to go (Sometime in the next couple can't rush something like this...HAH). I'll be anxiously awaiting your thoughts on my what should be my near-future locations and endeavors. As Thomas Petty once said "It's time to move on, time to get going. What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing."

And on the subject of jobs, is there anything more stupid than putting an "objectives" on top of a resume? I have no idea when this became necessary and what moron said that should be standard practice, but I think it's just stupid. I don't need to tell you why I'm submitting a resume...I WANT A JOB. I NEED TO EAT, AND I WILL TRADE MY SERVICES FOR MONETARY COMPENSATION. Oh, wait, you didn't realize that? You're right, I thought I was writing to the Sears catalog to see if they'd send me a customized Christmas wish-book (Don't act like you don't remember the wish-book when you were little. You'd dog-ear pages and circle things in crayon, too. Ah, memories.) based on my educational and employment history. You thought I wanted a job? How silly of you. And this is why I haven't updated my resume in two years. That, or I'm lazy. Probably the latter. Fack.

OK, so scratch what I said before. I just want someone to gift wrap me a job, similar to what has happened to me the last 2 years. I want the application and interview process to be nothing more than a formality, if either are even needed at all. I just need the job located somewhere outside of greater L/A which in turn would (should..) motivate me to get out on my own and start pretending to be an adult, rather than continue to live a life strikingly similar to I led in high school six to ten years ago. Is that too much to ask?

While I don't like birthdays all that much, cake is one of my guilty pleasures. As long as it doesn't have that fake-ass frosting on it. Frosting must be legitimate and made old-school style. I have absoolutely no idea how old school frosting is made other than it is loaded with sugar and just looking at it makes me feel like Type II diabetes may be in my future. I don't have cake a lot, so when I do I have no regard and will eat it like a glutton. With Vanilla ice cream at times, too. Magically delicious.


Consider this your first invitation to the 3rd-ish annual Capone 4th of July Party. The first two years consisted of myself, Mr. Lawler, and my parents playing drinking games together and eating good foods. Last year we were also joined by an eclectic blend of old friends still in town in the latter portion of the afternoon and ended at the Goose, by all accounts a fine evening. This year, I'd expect more of the festive atmosphere which Capone Memorial Day gatherings are known for. A lot of stars and stripes. It's a lot of food. A lot of fun. A lot of Marie acting as drinking police in the sweet dice game we play. If you haven't played before, trust me you'll be in for a treat.

So, if you were over on Memorial Day then you're invited back. If I've already spoken with you then you're invited. If You're a regular reader and for some reason I haven't invited you and you know where I live then feel free to stop by. Weather permitting, of course; the Capone house is an outdoor-only meeting place. Weather looks good as of now so if you have any requests then let me know. I'll either say, "that's a great idea, bring it along," or "that's an awful idea, bring it along." Take that for whatever it's worth. And Nick's pool is 72 degrees and Butch has the solar cover on. If it ever stops raining maybe it'll warm up. But bring your trunks, too (Kath - wear the black two piece...awww yeah).

And if I invited you then I invited you for a reason. Don't bullshit me and pretend that you have something better to do. If you miss it then consider yourself dead to me. And that's all I have to say about that.


So last night I had a nightmare. Or something. I couldn't fall asleep because I suck and I have a horrible sleep schedule, but I ended up waking up around 5:15am after feeling like someone was standing over me. So I woke up startled and sweating, with some rapid breathing thrown in for good measure. Pretty freaky. I was unimpressed. Maybe I need to get a night light. Or maybe I just need to stop staying up late doing nothing besides stuffing my face with food. I type this while I'm eating my 3rd roll of PEZ. At 11:33pm. This will be another good night. Balls. Cheers.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Rain, rain, go away.

This April showers shit can stop sometime soon. There's a week left in June, this sucks. "Roofing" and "rain" only go together in sentences like: You CAN roof when it's not raining. You CANNOT roof when it is raining. F me. And the Joe Cupo's of the world can't just say on the 11pm news that it's going to rain all day, either. They sugarcoat shit. So my ass gets out of bed at 6am to drive to Turner where I get to sit in my car for an hour and a half while the rain is "about to let up," then work for 45 minutes before going back in the car to wait while a brief shower "passes through" for 3 hours. Woe is me.
The sad (read: typical) thing is that we'd actually like to work and are trying not to go out and suck down beers every night; evening activities that made up much of last summer. I'm not saying I'm an angel, and much of it is probably a personal desire to cleanse and detoxify my body after a 10 day bender, but still. I can count the number of times I was up at 6 last summer on one hand. This week I'm already three for three (well, 2 for 3, I went out on Tuesday night. But this just proves my point..). But now the weather is tea-bagging the best damn roofing crew in Maine. That's horseshit. If someone who prays on the regular could pray for this shit to stop I would really appreciate it.

Drink of the week:
Cranberry Juice. No booze in it, just cranberry juice. Lots of antioxidants. It tastes just like it smells: DELICIOUS. I get the all-natural, high-test and then go 50/50 with...tap water. That way it's not any of that light, sugar-free trash. It's still extra tasty but I can have two glasses instead of one with the same effects on my waistline. This really works with about anything sugary. Water it down and it actually tastes good. Gatorade, lemonade, kool-aid. You name it.

Snack of the week:
Yep, a classic. Chef Boyardee mini raviolis. And not just the mini's. Or the raviloi's. Pretty much you name it and it'll be delicious. Half the time I eat them room temperature and straight out of the can. I'm a man. I do what I want.
Secret: Most underrated and forgotten Boyardee product is the spagetti and meatball. Most know of the ravioli. EVERYONE knows beefaroni (sidenote here: Why the hell do we still call American Chop Suey American Chop Suey when beefaroni works so much better? This makes no sense to me. I know, I know, Boyardee probably has beefaroni trademarked because it actually makes sense and describes what's in the meal instead of "We're America. Let's take a Chinese dish, add Italian food and call it our own." More than ridiculous. Ridonkulous, I say. So, tomorrow do me a favor and go out and spread the word. Out with American Chop Suey. In with Beefaroni for dinner!). But most forget about his fine spagetti and meatball. My message to you all: Don't. Try it, Mikey, you'll like it. And remember this: Spagetti-O's aint got shit on Chef Boyardee products. If your parents fed you Spagetti-O's as a child it was because you were a bad child. I'm sorry, but it's the truth.


Due to work being called on account of "God's work" I got a chance to watch Gran Torino with my folks this afternoon. Predictable at some points but still a very fine film. Not Oscar-worthy, in my opinion, but Clint still has a load of hard-ass in his old...ass. I wouldn't go as far as to call the script well-written, but it felt real, Like what I'd expect an old, crotchety Korean vet to talk like after he's worked in an auto plant in Deeee-troit for 30 or 40 years. Let's just say it's colorful. Good. No Hangover, but still good. And Eastwood sucks down Pabst the whole movie. Touch of class, right there.


The MLB sucks and I'm not able to embed this for you but this happened on Tuesday during the first game against the Nationals: Bottom of the third inning, one out, runner on first. Ball up the middle, Nick green makes a hell of a play on the 2nd base side of the bag, dives and tags out Christian Guzeman, tumbles, rolls over and throws out whoever was at the plate to end the inning. Looked great, was great. For whatever reason NESN doesn't show a replay going to commercial they just rush away. Whatever, they'll show it again when coverage resumes before Boston comes up to bat, right? WRONG. John Fucking Kerry is in the booth for the entire fourth inning. No replay was replayed. I'm sorry, John. I don't remember.


Friday, June 19, 2009

God Dammit, ESPN; PETA

So I roll out of bed at the ass crack of 11:30 today due to rain and I am excited, because I know there will be two rounds of US Open coverage on the television today, which started at 7:30am and will be continuing ALL day. NBC had coverage yesterday afternoon, which would have been great. Turns out ESPN has coverage this morning, which in and of itself is no big deal. Except some motherfucker executive decided Chris Berman should be the lead on the coverage. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! My day is ruined. I'd watch it on mute but then I wouldn't know who was hitting what because I don't follow golf closely enough to know everyone.

Still, this was said by Chris Berman within 5 minutes of me turning coverage on:
(After a Soren Hanson second shot out of the rough which failed to reach the green and ended up in the first cut about 15 yards from the green)
"Boomer" : Well, I guess you can call him a Hanson, because that was a slap shot.
Other guy in the booth: Well, you just did...
PAINFUL. I've got nothing better to do so I'll continue to watch, but I'm not happy about it...


PETA is a Joke (Video of the day...)

Excerpts of AP story below:
Norfolk-based group People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals wants the flyswatter-in-chief to try taking a more humane attitude the next time he's bedeviled by a fly in the White House.

"We support compassion even for the most curious, smallest and least sympathetic animals," PETA spokesman Bruce Friedrich said Wednesday. "We believe that people, where they can be compassionate, should be, for all animals."

Friedrich said that PETA was pleased with Obama's voting record in the Senate on behalf of animal rights and noted that he has been outspoken against animal abuses.

Still, "swatting a fly on TV indicates he's not perfect," Friedrich said, "and we're happy to say that we wish he hadn't."

Deputy press secretary Josh Earnest said the White House has no comment on the matter.

Are you kidding me?! Get off your high horse. THEY'RE OVERPOPULATED IN THIS AREA AND ARE DECIMATING THE GRUBWORM POPULATION. Go have a coke and a smile and shut the f up, PETA.

Happy Friday. Cheers.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

It seems my vote last November...

...has ended up paying off. Just hear me out:

As I was examining my finances yesterday I realized I spent quite a bit of coin while on the road. But, hey, I was ON VACATION. And that's what vacations are all about, just living the dream. In actuality I would have remained well within my budget had we not ended up on a party bus Wednesday night in Nashville around 2am after spending 3 hours or so in Coyote Ugly downtown. But those nights are the kind of things you can't make up. My shirt got ruined, my wallet got thinner, but at least I got her number. Sometimes it's just about accentuating the positives. Like the fact the bus brought us to our "hotel room on wheels" afterwards. And that was a positively good night; a fitting way to leave the country music capital of the world.
One second here: Nashville is awesome, by the way. GREAT downtown area. I'm sure we hit it at a perfect time as we were there early in the Country-Fest week so there were great live acts everywhere and the bars were full, but not packed to the gills. Full in a place like that I could handle, but packed to the gills? Ya'll know me, that's just a no-go.
Everybody performing there is looking to make a name for themselves and becoming the next "thing," and while I'm pretty sure everyone we saw will just keep playing for tips it was still light years better than a juke box. I can't put my finger on why, but there's just something special about live music in a bar, particularly live country music. There is no line between metal night at the Pub in town and whoever it is playing "Wagon Wheel" that particular hour. (No joke, heard that song at least 35 times in 2 days. Again, no exaggeration: EVERY bar we were at with live music we heard that song played. Didn't matter if they were 22 or 42. Made things interesting when we saw signs and drove past JOHNSON CITY, TENNESSEE (!!!!!!!

SO live music: A+. Another A+, the members of the opposite sex populating the downtown area. Seriously, New England and the northeast needs to wake up. I'm not saying you need to sleep with every guy but just be nice once in awhile. Smile and loosen up a little. The southern belles down there wore their boots high, their skirts short, crushed Bud-D and stuffed southern BBQ straight to their faces. What more can you ask for in a future wife, really? O, ya, they were FRIENDLY.
But, yes, Nashville was great. Never made it to Asheville, NC but I've heard good things about there, too. Another young, hip city, little less country-fied but definitely up-and-coming. Knowing our little Sammy will be a couple hours away from there in Charlotte means I will certainly be checking out the sights and sounds of the middle south again before the year is out. I'm not mad about that..
But I digress. To resume, I'm a little short on cash right now. You all know what I mean, I'm not really short on cash (hell, I live with my parents for chrissakes..), but still short enough to know it's time to get kicked in the ass and get back on a roof. And as the moon and the stars seemed to align and know my headlights were pointed towards the 207 I received a call from my boss at Haggerty Contracting saying we had a bigg'un to tackle. This sucker is HUGE. And who do I have to thank for it? None other than Barack Obama.
(sidenote here: I've decided to start block quoting random anecdotes to pull them out of the main read. Sometimes they fit, other times they don't. Try it, Mikey. You'll like it.
For this detour: (Came from Johnny, the resident jokester on the crew. I don't think any of you know him, but now that I'll be touching on my life as a shingle bitch you'll probably get to know him well. Welcome to the 'Pad, Johnny.) A joke told on the jobsite today:
What's the difference between God and Barack Obama? (Wait for it....) God doesn't think he's Obama (Da-dum, ching). HAH.
But really. I have Obama and his dillion dollar stimulus package to thank. The money the town of Turner is using to re-roof Tripp Middle School is coming straight from the relief package that Maine was allotted. This has been verified by multiple sources. And so not only is it steady work for 5-6 weeks because the roof is 25,000+ square feet, but it's a (technically, some way I'm sure..)government job so I'll be making some good coin. Really, where my money comes from doesn't matter that much so long as I get a paycheck, but now I feel like my vote which indirectly is turning the nation I hold so dear into a socialist state is actually doing something to benefit me.

SO hate Obama as much as you want for bailing out the banks, GM, Ford, AIG, and plenty of other folks while using this panicked climate to push forward his leftist-ideological-agenda of a State-run...everything. At least for six weeks or so you can have the privilege of knowing some little guy who is actually benefiting from that big, imaginary pile of money the government is passing around like its going out of style for the next six weeks. I'm not mad; you shouldn't be, either.

Time for a beer at Gip's, Welcome back, me! Cheers.

More on (some of) this later..

It's official: I don't know how to fall asleep at normal hours and wake at normal times anymore. I guess I'll need another few days to get back on track. There will be (much) more to come on my favorite female rocker, Grace Potter, very soon, but for tonig..., er, this morning, this is the best I can do. And lemme tell you, it's pretty flipping good. You can find some pretty crazy things on the "internet" these days. So, live from Bonnaroo here is Grace Potter performing with Gov't Mule covering Neil Young's "Southern Man" (This was found on a pretty neat GP&theN's fan site which also has another very good acoustic cover from Grace. Well done, dear.). Feel the energy, it's something else.

I enjoy Gov't Mule a lot and I was very pleased to have an opportunity to see them live. Their performance was made even more special with GP &theN's (Really it was just Grace and the lead guitarist, but whatever. And that's my nickname, wait until it catches on..), probably my favorite act out there, on stage and getting down with guitar-legend Warren Haynes. I hope that you enjoy it; I sure did. Cheers.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

On Sleep, Bruce..

This will probably all turn out jumbled and mis-mashed together, so before I begin anything of significance just bear with me. The first 5-6 days in Boston, NYC, Charlottesville and Nashville generally played out something like this:
Wake up mid-day (think 10am-1pm)
Drive to next location
Gallivant until 2-5am in said location
Pretty standard bender for most people. From here, however, my compatriot and I moved to:
Wake up at or before 7am because it's balls hot out/the sun's up/people all around you are finishing their night/starting their day/something in between
Try to eat something/find shade (Saturday morning we dragged a picnic table into a mist tent and sat and ate breakfast for close to two hours. It was glorious)
Music begins around noon...
(Fill-in-the-blank here..)
...Music ends between 3am and 6am
[Editor's note: It took me close to 15 minutes to remember how to block quote. I kept hitting tab over and over and thinking to myself: "This will NEVER work, what the hell..." I'm slowly working my way back into things...]

So basically what I'm trying to tell you is the lack of sleep over the past 4 days makes this trip very much a blur. Random memories come in flashbulbs which trigger other random memories and so on down the line. For the most part once in Manchester the days are inconsequential. It is a part of Bonnaroo and the only real points of reference I have are the concerts, because I have a schedule that lines those out.

A lot happened. A lot I remember, I'm sure a lot of it I don't (or at least I won't remember until something triggers an "O, that reminds me..." moment) so for the couple other people who read and went feel free to chime in when and if you feel something needs additional explanation.

Bruce Springsteen can still flat out rock. Granted, I don't think I've seen a performer more coked up on stage before in my life than Bruce on Saturday, but he can still flat out rock. The E-Steet band was on point, and (dare I say...) better with Max Weinbergs' son on drums than when he was playing. Bruce was right when he called Jay a "prodigy." He's got it. Let Max head back to the Late Show and leave the rocking to Jay. Kid can play.

Back to Bruce. He came on stage fired up. Dripping with sweat. Literally, dripping. He'd lift the mic and you'd just see sweat pour off at his elbow. As the show picked up he'd try to cover up this "problem" by pouring cups of water all over him, but trust me when I say he was lit up on that cocaine. First time I've seen a guy on stage blow massive snot rockets mid-lyric, too. So, thank you Bruce.

He also kept saying "The Bonnaroo" instead of just Bonnaroo. I thought it was funny, I think I was alone in thinking that. Just showed his age. "How's everyone enjoying THE Bonnaroo?" as opposed to everyone other act who knew what was going on saying "How's everyone enjoying Bonnaroo?" It just made me laugh. Still does.

I've since read he played 28 songs, which was about our estimate. Solid 3 hours of good music. Played a 20ish song set and then an 8ish song encore, with my personal favorites being:
"Badlands" - He opened with it, and it's a great tune. They jammed out, too and got things started off right.
"Workin' on a Dream" - Because I said that about 20 times in the hour lead up to the show, and most times his name was brought up.
"The River" - I just think it's a solid song, so I was glad to hear it live.
And (obviously...) "Glory Days" - one of the last encore songs. Brought back good times on the 4th at Sloat's camp. I was watching with a friend who (believe it or not..) was a big baseball player back in high school. And (this is starting to set in:), time slips away and leaves you with nothing, mister, but..
I guess I never thought Bruce was big on coke, but I have no real reason to have thought that. I should have just used a little SAT-style if-then equation and it probably would have been obvious:
IF Bruce Springsteen is a rock star
AND rock stars who have never been to rehab love cocaine
AND (I think..) Bruce Springsteen has never been to rehab
THEN Bruce Springsteen loves cocaine.
How silly of me. Cheers.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Time to get Started.

Whew. Welcome home. Rolled in at about 7:00am after 22 hours of/driving/eating/peeing/running-out-of-gas/and-seeing-ALL-of Long-Island-before-leaving-NY. I am spent (As is my wallet. It was a good week).

Thoughts on the week: I'm speechless right now. It was quite a lot to take in. My mind has just been racing with thoughts all week and I really don't know how to get it all out right now. It was a trip for the ages, that's all I can say. NYC was a good time; it was my first time in the big city. Made some new friends. I've never had a bad time in Charlottesville. Everyone knows that. Nashville is an unbelievable city and makes me want to pack up shop and move to the south before too long. And Bonnaroo. Bonnaroo. That's about all I can say about it right now. Bonnaroo.

I'm in the process of laying-back-down/cleaning-out-my-car/cleaning-up-myself/and-collecting-my-thoughts-on-the-last-10-days. And trying to get caught back up on the news? Pens and Lakers are champs? No shit. I actually watched the Today show and Fox news for a half hour before I fell asleep this morning, I hadn't realized how much news I pick up just by channel-surfing and internet-skimming. While it was nice living in a bubble for a week I suppose it's time to rejoin the mainstream world..

My thoughts for right now can be summed up with the following: It's always good to come home. Cheers.

Sunday, June 7, 2009


In Boston. I must have drank 300 beers last night. Man, am I awesome!

Actually, last night was a very good time. Kathy had 3 of her friends in town from Hamilton and Sammo was down, so for the first time in awhile I looked like a cool, popular person. It was swell. We grilled on a rooftop deck in Beacon Hill. I'm not familiar with Boston but apparently the Beacon Hill district is rather swanky. High Society. Lots of young, hip professionals. Corporate America at its finest. Whatever. But is was quite a night. The moon was full. The food was hot. Very good times.

KathV made a mistake and answered the door for law enforcement officials once we were back in her neck of the woods...I educated her on the word "warrent" this morning. She's now up to speed. but no harm, no foul. Onward and downward to NYC today. I don't know how hard it is to park on the street in midtown Manhatten, but I'm about to find out. Yippee. Sam wants to go to a strip club today, so I may end up at a strip club. Just another day at the office, right? Love you, Mom. Cheers.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Setting Forth

The festivities of last night ran into this morning and thus I am not on the road quite as early as I had planned. So be it.

Maps are packed, as is a State of Maine flag. Represent.

I will be without a computer for the duration of the trip, so updates will be sporadic, at best.

If you're anywhere between or in the vicinity of Maine and Tennessee then shout me a holla, dogs, and perhaps we can meet up.

Enjoy your start to summer. You can trust I will be. Cheers.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Slow News Day

I feel like I have used that title before. Maybe it says something about me...Anyways the New 'Stool has a hot videos section on the side, and while the videos they post aren't always funny if you spend an hour or so clicking on related videos following that first click you can usually find a couple of good ones. Today was one of those days.

Everyone loves a good video of a cat getting a little bit confused, right?

And it's also nice to know there are other fine, intelligent Americans out there who, like me, still don't quite "get" the "internet" and how it works:

I do this on youtube a really is an excellent time-waster.

Beat Minesweeper on expert last night, too. A-gain. No big deal. Insomnia sucks.


Kanye Vision

This is probably the coolest thing on the "internet" today. It's only cool for the first 5 minutes or so, but for those 5 minutes you feel like when you were four years old on Christmas morning when you still thought Santa existed and you were so happy he saw you when you were sleeping and when you were awake but he happened not to see you when you had that bottle of Jack, an eight ball of blow and three of the finest hookers the Sunshine Room at ST. Joseph's Daycare had to offer. Man, those were the days...

Have a great start to your day. And, remember: Like Kanye, my greatest pain in life is that I'll never get to see myself perform live. You should all feel lucky that you get to bear witness to my antics on a semi-regular basis. Cheers.