Russian Race Horses: E-bone's Response

So I sent out the notifications about the E-bone posting, and I receive the following email from the Bone himself:

From: E-bone Sent: Tuesday, October 24, 2006 10:59 AMTo: Quad The Bod; Jake-O ; Hor-Hey; Dickie LeeSubject: RE: E-bone Stories: Russian Race Horses

Ok, I'll agree with you on the darts. The rest is all BS! You beat me because Vic throws 4 TDs? Lucky basterd, the most he ever had prior to Sunday was 2! And for those that were golfing we all know who started the Race Horse bit with, "I have to take a dump like a Russian Race Horse". To which my reply was, isn't that piss? Then everyone looks at me like I'm the crazy one.

See you in the playoffs brudda
E-Bone

So let’s break this email down to see if we can’t get to the “root” of E-bone’s issues.

“Ok, I'll agree with you on the darts. The rest is all BS!” Boner started out well, but reverted to the denial stage. First sign of alcoholism is DENIAL. So with this, we can prematurely diagnose E-Bone with alcoQUADism.

“You beat me because Vic throws 4 TDs?” this is a very interesting statement because I thought E WAS making a statement, but he ended the sentence with a question mark. So I am confused. BUT……isn’t that what a quarterback is supposed to do?

“Lucky basterd, the most he ever had prior to Sunday was 2!” We have a couple of things here. The alcoQUADism is affecting E’s brain cells because he blatantly mis-spelled “bastard.” But, that MAY be the spelling in Buffalo. I’ll have to check. Second, the alcoQUADism is REALLY getting to him because he has reverted to the whiny, won’t-take-responsibility stage. Plus, he has now started to blame items from the PAST for what has happened in the past.

“And for those that were golfing we all know who started the Race Horse bit with, "I have to take a dump like a Russian Race Horse". Just like Seinfeld, endless rambling about nothing. I am assuming he is referring to me taking a crap in the woods during our most recent golf outing, but I am not sure if he is talking about me or his friend Tom, who ALSO took a crap on a golf course while playing golf with E. hmmmm. I wonder……..does playing golf with E bring out the “worst” in people?

“To which my reply was, isn't that piss?” when used by itself, this sentence shows E-Bone’s deep seeded fascination with urinary water sports because this question could possibly be asked about anything of liquid format that catches the eye of Bone. It also reveals well hidden insecurities about proper or improper urination because of Bone’s inability to NOT wet the bed at night until he was well into his teens. These insecurities were often re-lived in role playing instances when E would allow former girlfriends to “relieve” themselves upon his bed, then he would pretend the girlfriend was his mommy and would run to her, begging her not to spank him and to help him change his clothes.

“Then everyone looks at me like I'm the crazy one.” Well, it’s not everyday we get to see, meet and talk to someone as fascinating as the Bone, baby. He’s the man.

“See you in the playoffs brudda
E-Bone” ahhh. I love people who have dreams. I hope he makes the playoffs just for sanity’s sake!

E-Bone Stories: Russian Race Horses

One of the trademarks of Quad is the fact that I can back my shit talking up. Very few times have I put my balls on the line without being able to get them back. Know what I mean? So I thought it was very interesting that about two weeks ago I get this email from E-bone. You see, we are both in the same fantasy football league. So he emailed me that we played each other in week seven and that he was going to beat me “like a red-headed step-child.”

Poor E-bone. Shit talker extraordinaire, but can never back it up. You see, Quad is the defending champion of this particular fantasy football league, and has no intentions of relinquishing that title. Especially to some one eye-browed, first season playing, buffalo bills fan mother fucker. I guess the Bone has forgotten all of those pool games and dart games and golf matches where I took the win, his money, and his dignity. I guess he had forgotten about the time we were throwing darts at Hor-Heys, playing cricket. All I had left was two bulls. I held up all three darts in front of E-bone.

Quad: Bone! Pick a dart.
Bone: Pick a dart? Why?
Quad: because all I have left is two bulls. I want you to pick a dart. The dart you pick will be the one I throw to get two bulls.
Bone: you can’t get two bulls with one dart!
Quad: put your money where your mouth is, BEE-YAATCH, and pick a dart.

So he picks a dart. I line up, throw, and I hit double bulls, thus ending E-bone’s game. He was pissed off like a bitch, but hey, that’s the price you pay for the life you choose, brother.

Anyway, week seven rolls around and E-bone had edited his SmackTalk on the fantasy site to read, “Macho, you are going down like a Russian Race horse!” Now, I have heard of “pissing like a Russian Race horse,” but never “going down like a Russian Race horse.” Which makes me wonder if it was a metaphorical Freudian slip? Sort of in the same category of Jake having a “cock” on his leg (see story about tattoos). I mean, how in the hell does E-Bone know how a Russian Race horse goes down? Has he seen one? But wait a minute. I just thought of something………E-bone - - - - Race Horse………hmmmm. Bone - - - horse. HMMMMM. Sounds a little TOO coincidental to me!

So I edited my smack talk and said, “I am going to throw E-Bone a BONE!” which is exactly what I did. Going into last night’s game, I had a commanding seven and a half point lead. I had shockey at TE while he had tiki barber. It was going to be close. But last night was a lesson showing that history repeats itself. Just as in past tries, E-bone talked a lot of shit but couldn’t close, dudes. Quad took him to school with a 2.5 point cushion, which secures Quad’s place in first and bumped E-bone all the way down to seventh.

Poor E. Always wanting to play with the big boys, but is left sitting on the sidelines. Oh well. Maybe in the playoffs, E!!!!!! That is, IF YOU MAKE IT!!!!!! Hahahahahahaha.

A Nation of Thugs: #10 Allen Iverson

NAME: Allen Iverson

OCCUPATION: NBA player, WannaBe Rapper Who Hates Homosexuals, Full Time Thug

REASON FOR THUGNESS: Supposedly grew up on the “Bad” side of Hampton, VA. While in high school, he was part of a very publicized brawl at the Armistead Bowling Lanes with some white people. He threw a chair during the melee, injuring one. Was sent to “Juvie.” As one of his last acts before leaving office, Thug Iverson was pardoned by Governor Doug Wilder (black.. no coincidence) so that TI could attend Georgetown under the tutelage of one of the most racists basketball coaches of all time: John Thompson. Left Georgetwon after his sophomore year and was a number one pick by the 76ers.

Amongst other things, TI 1) was caught speeding on I-95 south, where he was found to have multiple weapons and “illegal substances.” 2) Recorded a rap album, but it was never released due to his blasting of homosexuals. 3) Busted into an apartment with one of his “handlers”, brandishing a gun, threatening the person living in the apartment because TI suspected the person of sleeping with his wife.

It’s a damn shame that children look up to this clown who couldn’t speak a literate sentence if his contract depended on it. Congratulations, TI, for being named Quad’s #10 Thug in a Nation of Thugs.

A Mid-Week Drunk

I’ve noticed a recent trend: I drink on Wednesdays. Nothing bad, mind you. But enough of Bombay Sapphire to get the Quad a little toasted. Knowhatimean? In the past, I normally reserve my gin for when I am grilling. Why? Because there is nothing better than being outside, grilling, watching the Pook, and drinking gin, baby.

So here I am at 12:15, midweek, drunk, and writing. Not sure why, but for some reason I am finding great pleasure in writing while I am drunk. Maybe it’s because I know that basically, I have one day left in the work week. Or maybe it’s because I know that even though I have to “work” tomorrow, I don’t have to teach. I mean, hell, I AM having breakfast/coffee with one of our VPs tomorrow before I go “in.” maybe it’s because next Thursday, the 26th I am having lunch with the “founder” of the company that Jake works for (don’t worry Jake. I have you covered, dude). Or maybe it’s just because I subconsciously derive great pleasure from 1) drinking gin and 2) writing after I DO drink gin.

Who knows, and who the hell cares. I don’t know what is worse, though: me writing after drinking or YOU reading what I have written in hopes that I will say something terribly stupid, incriminating, or enlightening.

I guess it depends on your perception, interpretation.

A Nation of Thugs: Introduction

“THUG: 1) a cruel or vicious ruffian, robber, or murderer. 2) a hoodlum. 3) an aggressive and violent young criminal”

Alright. Let’s get it on the table immediately: we live in a nation of THUGS, with a capital T. And the sad thing is, the people of America have not admitted it because they refuse to see it. This coming after another fine example of exemplary sportsmanship by the University of Miami this past weekend. But more on that later.

I received an email today from Cooter, who is a HUGE Tennessee Volunteer Fan. The email contained the top 10 college jokes. I read them aloud to two of my colleagues, both of whom are two of the most intelligent, highly educated people I know, one of them being a lawyer who used to have his own practice. I point this out for a specific reason: lawyers look at things differently than what you and I do. They can see minutiae when we cannot, and can make an argument for either side of an issue, depending on which side they want to debate on a particular day.

So I read the number nine college joke: Where was O.J. going in the white bronco? To Raleigh, NC because he knew the police would never look for a Heisman Trophy winner at Duke.

And my lawyer friend brought up the fact that he uses the O.J. Simpson case (more on that later because he is in my top five THUGS) when explaining double jeopardy: a person can’t be tried for the same crime twice. Sure, O.J. was tried twice, but his trials were in different courts: one was a civil case and one was a criminal case. But my lawyer friend brought up the fact that O.J. could actually be tried criminally on the Federal Side. Why you ask? Consider Webster’s Dictionary of Law’s definition of “hate crime:” a crime that violates the victim's civil rights and that is motivated by hostility to the victim's race, religion, creed, national origin, sexual orientation, or gender.

So ask yourself this: was O.J.’s crime motivated by the victim’s race? YES (he loved white women, but hated the white men that love white women). Sexual orientation? YES.(Ronald Goldman was rumored to be gay. That didn’t incense O.J. What incensed O.J. was the fact that a gay man could possibly be banging his WHITE wife). Gender? YES. (female, considered by some to be the weaker sex) So while this may be stretching it a little, my lawyer friend explained, those charges could be deemed legitimate, thus making the crime a hate crime. That is assuming, of course, O.J. DID IT! But we all know that O.J. didn’t have ANYTHING to do with those murders, don’t we? I mean hell, if I spread my fingers out as far as they will go, my glove won’t fit EITHER! Again, more on that later.

But when I started to think about what my friend said, the more I thought of recent events that, when looked at objectively, made me realize we live in a nation of THUGS. So what I plan to do in the next several posts is to name my Top 10 thugs of all time. Some you will agree with, some you will not. Some I will get blasted for. Some I will get praised for. But, when you hear what I have to say, you will have to take a step back and go “hmmmm. I never thought of it like that. Maybe we DO live in a nation of THUGS.” So hang on Quad fans. It is definitely going to be a wild, assed ride.

The Quadness of Physicals

So I had another physical today. Well, a partial physical (I’ll explain that later). Today’s physical was uneventful compared to last year’s. I did, however, overflow the piss cup by not paying attention. Not sure why I wasn’t paying attention, though. Maybe I was having a hard time (pardon the pun) because I was trying to hold the cup in one hand and the tweezers in the other. Things that make you go hmmmmmm.

I had another EKG done, which meant more probes. But it went well. I think getting an EKG is the best kept secret in a physical because 1) I get to take my shirt off and flex for the nurse, 2) she gets to touch the massiveness of Quad, 3) I get to make my chest “bounce” while she is trying to put the probes on, and 4) I get a free touchy-feely when she leans over me to place the probes on my left side. Some may call me sick. I call it being the Quad, the whole Quad, and nothing but the Quad, baby.

So the doctor comes in.
Doctor: so you are here for a physical?
Quad: a partial physical.
Doctor, laughing: partial? What part of the physical do you want to leave out?
Quad: I’ll give you one guess

Fortunately, he granted my request and decided not to do the duke chute booty juke with his fingers!

I guess his major concern was my cholesterol. Last year my tryglicerides were a studly 165. but in the spring they were up to and borderline worrisome 251. so if my blood work doesn’t come back healthy, I may have to go on medication to keep my cholesterol down. If that is the case, I am going to suggest Lipitor, with emphasis on the lips, baby. Something about lips………….you know what I mean?

Other than that, Quad is healthy: resting pulse of 65, blood pressure of 110 over 78, and 221 pounds of Grade A American Beef, dudes. Nothing but twisted steel and sex appeal, brothers and sisters….WHEN I SAY EL,
YOU SAY QUAD!
EL!
QUAD!
EL!
QUAD!

That’s what I’m talking about.

Tattoo's and Late Night TV

So I am sitting here watching these late night soft porn movies on cinemax during commercials of the football game. The game, by the way, is pissing me off. I was ahead by 8 points in my fantasy league with me going into tonight. Seeing that I had the bears kicker, the bears defense, and their receiver beriman, I was set to possible eclipse my all time weekly high score of 143. but the bears are down by 20 in the third and they ain’t doing shit. The only thing that may save me is that fact that their defense just scored a touchdown.

Anyway, I noticed that the girl “performing” in this particular movie had a tattoo of something on her back. And it made me think. Tattoos on the small of women’s backs seem to be in vogue now. I think it’s funny that they get these tattoos, then spend a considerable amount of time pulling their shirts down to hide the tattoo.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not against tattoos. As a matter of fact, jake has a couple of them with the main one being a south Carolina gamecock on his calf. Now why would he want a “cock” on his leg? Maybe it is a deep seeded metaphor for him to have a cock on his leg, but he hasn’t realized it yet after all this time.

For the longest I resisted getting a tattoo. I finally broke down and got one after mrs. Quad got two. Yep. Sure did. Got them for me for father’s day this year. She got a tattoo of a turkey with the words “happy thanksgiving” on her right thigh and a tattoo of a Christmas tree with the words “merry Christmas” on her left thigh. When I questioned her about this, she told me the reason she did it was because she was tired of me complaining that there was never anything good to eat between thanksgiving and Christmas!!!!!!!

So I went out and got a $100 dollar bill tattooed on my dick because she likes to blow money!!!

Anyway, this girl I dated in Vegas one year (I used to travel out there quite a bit on “business”) always said that she wanted her name tattooed on the small of her back. When I asked her why, she said so that if a guy was “hitting it” from behind, he could look down and remember who he was hitting. Trust me, I never forgot.

But I guess that the tattoo on the small of the back thing came to light for me about a month ago. Me, my wife and pookie were down at the Norfolk scope because we had taken pook to see Barney. We had second row seats. WOO HOOOO! Anyway, this black couple came in and sat down in front of us. When the woman of the couple bent over to place her purse on the floor, I saw her tattoo and it all made sense to me then. It read, “How Sweet It Is.”

I sat there and looked at the tattoo and thought, “Brown Sugar. Very sweet indeed!”

A Slow Weekend with Quad

As stated on Thursday, we went down to nags head over the weekend and did some fishing. What a beautiful weekend to wrap up the 2006 travel season. Not much happened that’s worth writing about. We did catch a lot of fish: spot, puppy drum, trout, and black drum. I love fishing.

Friday night me and pook went down to the pier to see if anyone was catching anything. When we left, pook decided he was hungry and wanted some chicken tenders. No big deal. We’ll go through the DQ drive through that was down the road from where we were staying. So I pull into the drive through.

Dq: may I help you?
Quad: yes. I would like a chicken tenders kids meal with a dr. pepper.
Dq: I’m sorry sir. We don’t serve food after five pm. We only serve ice cream.
Quad: what?
Dq: we don’t serve food after five pm. We only serve ice cream.
Quad: you’re kidding, right?
Dq: no sir.
Quad: what the hell kind of bullshit is that? I have a hungry four year old in here that wants YOUR chicken tenders.
Dq: I’m sorry sir.
Quad: that’s all you have to say?
Dq: I’m sorry sir.

So I back out of the drive through in hopes of finding something to eat. But it is out of season at the outer banks. So most businesses, if they are still open, close it up at five.

Bastards. Didn’t they know Quad was coming?

Catching Up With Quad

It’s been a while since the Quad has posted. So I thought I would try to catch you up on what’s been happening.

First things first: Helmet Head (formerly known as Swapping Key Man) has left the building. That’s right folks. The nemesis of Quad, the biggest pussy you have ever seen, the person who tried to break into Quad’s reign as the Wing King, the one who bitched like a little pussy so much I had to trade keys with him, one of the original “Fucked Up Four” who bonded together to try and bring Quad down no longer works with Quad. Yep. That’s right. I have outlasted every one of them mother fuckers. Kiss my ass, BEEE-YAATCH!!!!! Who the fuck is your daddy NOW, you taint licking queer?!?

There. I got that out of my system. Let’s move on.

Took the family (with in-laws and brother-in-law’s family in tow) to Disney for 9 days. Guess what? Don’t let the hype fool you. The happiest place on Earth? Bitch, Please. This is how fucked up Disney is: not only do they have you exit each ride into a gift shop so that your kids can raise hell about wanting something, thus setting you up because you are telling your kids no, which causes them to pitch a bitch in front of everyone, which adds to your parental stress because it’s hot as a mother fucker and you have skipped your kid’s naps for the sake of staying at the park, Disney makes you pay fifty cents for a damn ping pong ball at the hotel. Can you believe that shit? The one thing I did like was the fact that at the hotel you could pay 11.99 for a coffee/soda travel mug and for the entire week you could have unlimited coffee, soda, hot cocoa, etc. Man, was the Quad in coffee heaven or what? I did take surfing lessons while I was down there. I busted my ass. Repeatedly. And, like my sex life, I never did get up!!!! Hahahahahahahaha.

Went to Alabama over labor day weekend. Was able to attend the Alabama-Hawaii game. That was a blast. I went with two of my brothers and a nephew. The entire campus was turned into one big, happy, block-party. While we were standing around eating, this southern belle blonde walked past us and had on a shirt that said, “Have You Hugged A Southern Belle Today?” As she walked past, I said, “I haven’t!” to which she immediately responded with, “And you Won’t EITHER!” Bitch!!!

As you read on the Super Jiggy E blog, the brotherhood got together for a golf tournament a couple of Friday’s ago. Man, I have never had so much fun or laughed so damn hard as I did with Jake, E-Bone, and Hor-Hey. The highlight of the day was on the 14th hole when I couldn’t hold it any longer, so I took a shit in the woods. As I was holding onto a tree, squatting, Jake took Hor-Hey’s phone and tried to take a picture. Never did see it, either. But anyway, I covered the “pile” with my “paper” and left it to nature. Didn’t think much about it until I saw the course marshal go over there and start to pick up the “litter.” EWWWWWW!!!!

E-bone told a story about Tom, who also took a shit on the course one day. When he was done, however, he wiped himself with his golf towel, then left the towel on the “pile.” Now that’s fucked up and here’s why: someone later came along and saw the golf towel, and went to pick it up because they thought they had found themselves a golf towel!!!! EWWWWWWWWWW!!!!

Tonight on my way home from work, I went by Wilcox’s Bait and Tackle down on Jefferson to by some Waders. We are going to Nags Head, NC this weekend and will be doing some surf fishing. Anyway, the further down Jefferson you go toward downtown Newport news, the worse the neighborhood gets. But wilcox’s is about the only place open at 5 am when we are launching at the james river at 6!

Anyway, I noticed that the police had this woman who was walking “pulled” over. There was no doubt in my mind that she was a lady of the night. Well, I am sitting in my truck at Wilcox’s talking on the phone when I here someone call me. It was the girl who had been pulled over.

Girl: excuse me sir. Excuse me sir.
I looked at her.
Girl: can I get a ride?
Quad: no.
Girl: FUCK YOU! BITCH!
Quad: You wish you could you crack infested whore! You would never go back to those dogs you keep in your trailer!

She flips me off and keeps walking, and I am left wondering, “What did I do to deserve the finger?” hahahahahaha