The NEW L-Quad Blog!

Lickin' and Pullin'

2007-06-24T19:15:00.000-07:00

I took my daughter and one of her friends up to King's Dominion last friday, since it was my daughter's last weekend here before going to Tampa with her mom.

It wasn't too long after we enterd when I saw this woman, who was very well endowed, wearing a T-shirt that read, "No, I don't lick myself."

"Damn." I thought. "She's no fun."

A little while later I passed a guy wearing a T-shirt that read, "Don't worry. I ALWAYS pull out."

"Touche', dude." I thought. "Touche'."

Is the Media Racist?

2007-06-21T07:05:00.000-07:00

In today’s usatoday (online), there is an article discussing this black journalist in miami receiving threats from a white supremacist group. Turns out the supremacist group found out the journalists’ contact information and posted it on its website. This happened AFTER the journalist wrote an editorial calling the media out on how it handles race relations.

It seems this black journalist was wondering in his editorial why the media doesn’t do more to report black on white crime, and questioning the intentions of the media falling all over themselves to report instances of white on black crime. If the media is obligated by some written or unwritten morality concerning fair reporting, I think the journalist may be on to something. In fact, I applaud him for calling the media out.

Politicians fail to hold the media accountable for their reporting because they rely so heavily on the media to sport their agendas and get them elected. As I read this article, I couldn’t help but think back over the last few years and tried to remember when the media focused on anything minority based. Think about it.

They didn’t call mayor nagin out in new orleans for not using the hundreds of school buses that were eventually flooded to evacuate his people before Katrina.

They didn’t say too much about the good reverend jesse jackson and his illegitimate child(ren).
They definitely didn’t really report the details and accusations of plagiarism in Dr. Martin Luther King’s dissertation.

You don’t see anything in the media about missing black children. Or hispanic. Or chinese. Or any children if they are not white, blonde and blue eyed. Is the caucasian race the only race who’s children come up missing? Are caucasians the only ones who disappear on cruise ships?

Yeah. Yeah. You will argue the media did a good job of reporting on the O.J. Simpson trial. But think about it. If O.J. weren’t O.J., would the media have cared? And if you recall, Johnny “The Cock” Cochran alienated his white litigation team members by using the race card. That trial really became world news when they had tapes of Mark Furhman using racial slurs. All of a sudden it was whitie trying to bring O.J. down because of his success. Bullshit. All of it.

Do hispanics, or chinese, or germans, or irish, or any other nationality that makes up this country commit crimes against other races? It doesn’t appear so if you listen to the media.

The media wants you believe that whitie blew up the levies in New Orleans. It doesn’t want to report about the influx of crime committed by non-whites after Katrina.

So I think this journalist might be on to something. Maybe the media, especially with the way the media business in general is struggling to stay afloat, should take a step back and re-evaluate the way they report the news.

Maybe the American public is tired of hearing nothing but bad news and that is why they are tuning the media out.

Maybe people in general want to move forward as a populas, regardless of race. If we are screaming for non-partisan politics in Washington so the country can move forward, let’s scream just as loudly (if not louder) for non-racial relations. Let’s learn to look at each other through eyes that see the color of water.

“We the people” means just that. Not We the Whites or We the Blacks. It means We the People. But we can’t be The People until the media falls in line and makes a committed effort to not just report the news fairly, but report the news in a way that doesn’t focus or bring a negative light to a particular race.

The Don Imus fiasco is a classic example. Where was the media when Jesse Jackson referred to New York as Hymie town? Stuart Scott from ESPN admitted in ESPN The Magazine that he uses the “N” word around his “homies.” Why use it at all?

Until the leaders of the communities, black, white, red, yellow, brown, etc., can put their racial insenuations aside, We the People will continue to be We the Divided.

Is Being Fat Enough?

2007-06-20T10:40:00.000-07:00

A lot of things happened last Friday while I was standing in line at Wal-Mart.

Wal-Mart, it seems, is the center of the degenerate universe. If there is ever an issue one could come up with, I am quite sure that one could find this issue in action at their local Wal-mart. For all of the good it does with low prices and such, it attracts some of the, uhh, most challenged people. Case in point.

I heard a commentary several months ago regarding the usage of those electronic carts by persons of poor health. While I understand that there are those that really NEED to use these carts, is being fat enough? At what point should an establishment draw the line as to whom they allow to use these carts?

While I was standing in the line at Wal-Mart, this seemingly healthy gentleman walked into the store with his two children. I guessed the children were in the 4-5 year old age group. He walked up to one of the cashiers complaining that there were no electronic carts. After a while, I see him motoring around in an electronic cart while his two children walked beside him.

While at Busch Gardens last week, I noticed three healthy teenagers riding around the park in these carts. Busch Gardens will argue that as long as a person pays, they don’t really care who uses the carts. But my point is by letting healthy people use the carts, it takes away from the usage possibilities of those who really NEED them. And I have no regard for the obese, so that shouldn’t be an excuse.

Obesity, as we all know it, is going to be the downfall of America, if we listen to the prognosticators. If that is the case, then I call for an all out assault on obesity by enforcing mandatory exercise programs for those diagnosed as obese by their doctors. Using these electronic carts should NOT be an option. The only way to cure obesity is to cut back on the caloric intake while exercising, burning more calories than are taken in. Thus, walking up and down the hills of Busch Gardens will do some good.

Allowing the improper usage of these carts is a sin, in my book, comparable to parking in a handicap spot. It should be policed and enforced just as harshly. Is being fat enough? Not unless it is accompanied by other medical issues that require less strenuous activity than walking around a store.

Our Educational Obligation

2007-06-20T10:32:00.000-07:00

Once again, our country in general feels that it needs to be the “baby sitter” of the world while it is a country of insane contradictions. Let me explain.

There was an article in today’s Wall Street Journal by Miriam Jordan entitled, “At Public Schools, Immigration Raids Require New Drill.” What the article basically pointed out is that in those areas of the country where the Department of Homeland Security is stepping up its workforce enforcement by raiding plans where known illegals are working, the school system(s) have to come up with a way to “comfort” the children of those “taken away.”

Uh. Excuse me. If the children are in school, then more than likely they weren’t born here. And if they weren’t born here, they are probably not citizens. And if one or both of their parents are “taken away” due to their legal status, then that probably means that the children are in the country illegally as well. Hmmmm. This begs the question of at what point do we draw the line to determine whether we deport someone or not?

I found it quite interesting that the author highlighted Grand Island, Nebraska where a raid last year on the Swift plants in several states that netted some 1,200 illegals. It discussed the plans of the school systems, many of which were made on the fly, and how they dealt with the children of these immigrants.

In Grand Island, for example, you would think the superintendent was on the payroll of the Swift plant. Realizing the growing population of Hispanic children in his schools (42% at last count), he hired multi-lingual staff and help co-found a multi-cultural coalition of hospitals, churches, and businesses. Why? One would hope it was due to a deep seeded concern for the students. But the truth is he relied heavily on what he calls the “trusted Hispanic population” to get him voted into office. When the shit hit the fan, they had a difficult time identifying the children to some of the displaced workers because the names of the works, derived from FAKE social security cards, didn’t match the names of the parents given to the schools. Teachers, staff, social workers, etc. worked “through the night” during this crisis. And the whole point is missed.

The children are innocent bystanders. I am quite sure that they didn’t really have a say as to whether they migrated here or not. But that doesn’t really matter. They are still ILLEGAL. 42% of this town’s student population is using resources of the community, churches, schools, businesses, etc. that are funded by local tax payers. By being illegal, I am quite sure their parents are NOT paying their share of the taxes, so the resources they are using is a form of Welfare in its worst state.

Rightly so, a lot of the students in the days that followed didn’t come to school in fear that their other parent would be taken away. The parents caught up in the raid will be in jail for months awaiting trial for deportation. MONTHS? What the hell for? We know they are illegal. Let’s ship them back, plain and simple.

But because these children are, well, children, are WE obligated to educate them when our own children are being LEFT BEHIND? Are we obligated to allow the use of resources funded by the LEGAL taxpayers, yet in some states taxpayers’ children can’t participate in public school activities because they are being home schooled? At what age do we NOT consider a child illegal? Do we wait until they turn 18, graduate, then hold them accountable?

I think it’s time for America to take a step back, and really look at what the illegal immigrants are doing to our society. They are driving up taxes because of the resources they use and because they DON’T pay any. They are driving up the cost of health care because hospitals and health care providers are morally obligated to provide healthcare to everyone. They are obtaining social security cards and driver’s licenses illegally so that they can work (and not pay taxes). They are tying up the school systems that aren’t prepared for a multi-lingual student body. The city of Williamsburg, VA for example has spent in excess of 2 million dollars over the last three years “educating” this illegal immigrant accused of murder so that he will be able to stand trial. And the list goes on and on and on.

But I think our leaders are just as much to blame. Why? If they are really concerned about our illegal immigrant problem, why were over 2 million allowed to march in every major metropolitan area on May 2nd for the second year in a row, marching for more rights? Why are our leaders afraid to stand up, use the balls they were given, and say, “You are here illegaly. You were not invited. What rights should I give you? What rights do you think you deserve?”

So let me close with this. I am not against immigrants at all. Our culture is made up of a cornucopia of nationalities. But I AM against illegal immigrants who sap our resources and don’t pay their taxes. Let them become legal only after they pay restitution for all of the “freebies” they had while illegal.

A New Class of People

2007-06-18T19:02:00.000-07:00

Economist and other financial “experts” are lamenting almost daily about the weeding out of America’s middle class. Now more than ever, they say, you have “it” or you don’t. What exactly “it” is has yet been determined, but I’m guessing they are talking about money. With rising fuel and food costs, double digit foreclosure rates in almost every state of the union, gas prices pushing $3 a gallon or more has “them” saying that we are creating a new class of poor people, consisting mainly of those who were once considered “middle class.”

While I don’t think it is fair that the minimum wage earner has to pay the same amount for gas as someone like E-bone who makes $200 an hour, I say “their” concerns are bullshit. I think that because most people are where they are financially or career wise based on their poor decision making, but that’s a topic of another day.

I think we are creating a class of people where the outlook for them is far more bleak than the new “poor.” That class of people I am talking about is a class of technology illiterate people who failed to see the digital revolution coming. Here’s my point.

In my area, Home Depot and the Wal-Mart in Hampton have installed self-checkout registers. I love those things. That means I can check out quicker, don’t have to stand in line (because most people shy away from self-checkout for some reason), and I don’t have to deal with the types of people who have those jobs. Not that there is anything wrong with them. There is always a need for cashiers, if you know what I mean.

One Farm Fresh now uses bio-metrics for checkout. If you register for it, you have your thumb print scanned, which is tied directly to your bank account or charge card. So when you check out, all you have to do is have your thumb scanned and the amount of your groceries is automatically deducted from your account.

Anheiser-Busch has implemented something similar at its theme parks in Williamsburg. When I try to enter the park(s), I place my season’s pass on this infrared reader, which reads my information from the bar code of the card. I then place my right index finger in the scanner because its print has been tied to my season’s pass information. If my print matches the information on my card, I am allowed in.

So here I stand in the self check-out line at the Hampton Wal-Mart. I watched rather impatiently as these two older women, both in those electric shopping carts, try to check out. First of all, their carts prevented them from being able to reach the products to scan them. They kept calling the attendant over to help. She finally just said “f--- it” to herself and checked them out. Once it was time to pay, they couldn’t reach the credit card scanner to scan their cards and then punch the numbers.

Second incident happened in the same line. This couple, probably early to mid-forties, was scanning their items. For the most part, it was going along smoothly when they had to call the attendant over. I’m not sure why or what was said, but I DID see that all she did to help was to press “OK” on the register screen. A few seconds later, they again had to call her over, to which she responded by once again pressing “OK.” She then had to give them a brief tutorial on how to scan their credit card, punch in the pin number, etc.

And I sat there and wondered “how sad.” So I began to pay attention every time I have gone out since then and I realize that we are surrounded by illiterates who can’t use the simplest technologies.

My in-laws have had their cell phones for almost two years and they still can’t use the voicemail.

A person I work with has a Treo. I sent a text message the other day asking her to bring lunch when she returned. When she arrived without lunch I told I had sent a text message. “what’s that?” she asked. “how do I use it?” to which my response was “how long have you had that Treo again?”

But with every great negative revelation, there is an even greater positive. This class of technology illiteracy will keep me employed for years to come. And it will always give me something to blog about!

Dealing with Death: Part I

2007-06-13T23:39:00.000-07:00

I have never been able to deal with a loss very good.

And the older I have gotten, the worse my ability to deal has gotten, due solely to my second-by-second melancholic increase. I no longer hold things or people in contempt as much as I try to hold everything at face value, accepting otherwise unsavory characteristics as just microcosms of a much larger whole. Besides, our smallnesses make up our bignesses. At least in my world it does.

So when we stand together in front of a mighty oak and you are asked “What do you see?”, your response explains your being and how your view shapes who you are, whether you are who you THINK you are or not.

As a result, I like to think that I see the oneness in many, and the minutiae in detail, however rhetorical that sounds. I can appreciate, plain and simple. I think that is why losing this family friend has affected me far more than I like to admit, to the point of being confused as to why.

My confusion rests in this: Whether I want to admit it or not, and as much as I have tried NOT to be this way, I see my father many times when I look in the mirror. Not in a bad way, but in the way he deals and has dealt with these types of issues: from a distance; never getting too close so that it affects his outward persona. I have seen my dad cry only twice. Once was when I was 3 or 4 and his mother had died. He loved his mother, as all sons should. The second time I won’t discuss, because it is a private moment shared between just him and I; a moment that culminated 30 some odd years of striving to hear the words “I am proud of you” from an otherwise non-emotional, non-attached, non-responsive person. But he’s my hero…………..still………..

My confusion as to how to deal with this is caught in the crossfire of letting my emotions run amok and riding my horse into the sunset in my best Marlboro Man (MM) impersonation. I am confused because I am not alone, ala the MM, yet is it un-MMly to cry, to feel, to expunge the hurt and pain I feel for the immediate family and for MQ? Should tears flow freely, unabashed by the preconceived (often mis-) conceptions that society places on the do’s and don’ts of gender specific events? Can I still be strong for MQ if my emotions ebb and flow like the tides?

I say YES, profoundly……KMA if you don’t agree

Dealing with Death: Part II

2007-06-13T20:35:00.000-07:00

We had known for months that she was dying. In fact, she had been telling MQ for over a year that she felt like she was dying. I guess if one were to get technical about it, we all feel like we are dying because that’s the largest part of living. But we have known since March or April that she was dying for sure.

In her quest to lose weight over the years, she had had two gastric bypass surgeries with the second one being a lot more “radical”, as the doctor put it, than the first. Over the years, her body didn’t receive the nutrition it needed to survive. The long term effects were her liver, and other organs, started shutting down. In fact, her liver shutdown had progressed so far by the time it was caught it was determined that a transplant would do her no good. It wouldn’t help because her other body parts had suffered so much damage that they would continue to shutdown regardless if she had a new liver or not. So she was told to basically go home and get her affairs in order. 1-2 years, they said.

54 days ago, after a brief stay in the hospital (I can’t remember the reason), she was sent home to die thinking she had 7-10 days left. 54 days later, on June 12th, 2007 at 3:38 pm, she passed peacefully in her sleep. Her heart had kept her going long after she should have died. She was wrapped in a robe that her mother had made her before SHE died 14 years ago. After being wrapped in that robe, a calm and peaceful smile came over her face, a fitting end to an otherwise un-necessary (depending on whom you ask) bout of suffering. She was home now. She was with her mother, where she had wanted to be all along.

I was in a meeting when MQ called. I ignored the call because she had always told me that if it were an emergency she would call Martha and have her come get me. When she called right back, I knew what the call was. My fears were confirmed when I answered to a hurting, sobbing wife whom I have adored forever it seems. My entire being went out to MQ because she had lost her best friend in the whole world.

MQ had spent time with her friend every single day since she arrived home from the hospital. To say that they were close is a grave understatement. I can’t even imagine the pain and the grief that MQ was going through. All I know was that I wanted to be there and hold her, and reassure her that I was here for her. I left work to show her just that.

The traffic down 17 was unusually light for that time of the day. But the drive to “the house” was long. I turned off the radio to drive in peace. My mind wondered all over the place, yet settled where it usually does: to a Sunday afternoon 20 years ago in November when I found my first sand dollar at Virginia Beach. I promptly mailed it to my yet-to-be-born daughter, Rebecca. I miss her, yet have never seen her………………

I pulled up to the house and there were many cars. I parked at the end of the line of cars, naturally, and walked through the yard.

As I walked under the willow tree, I saw her: MQ. She was hurting, but she was as beautiful as the afternoon sun. She didn’t see me until I was past the tree. I swear, it was the most emotional yet romantic “scene” I have ever experienced.

When she saw me, she stood there in disbelief with her hands over her tear stained cheeks. She started to cry and opened her arms to me in a way she has never done. I never took my eyes off of her as I walked to her and into her arms. We fell into each other and I held her tightly as she cried, sobbed, in grief. It literally broke my heart to see her that way, and I cried too. I held her and held her, relishing how something as tragic as this loss was slowly pulling us closer to where we were during that “first week.”

I then had an epiphany: everything we had been working toward and struggling through and laughing at and crying over was now non-essential. We had crossed that bridge a lot of couples never get to, the bridge of acceptance and understanding of exactly what we had. It was then, in those few seconds, when our love was sealed and our relationship was now cemented in our mutual grief over our friend and in our undying need for each other. I need her in my life…………….she IS my life.

I paid my condolences to the daughter and to the husband. I looked at our friend and I remembered exactly why I hadn’t been going up there to see her through this ordeal: I wanted to remember her as the person who went with us to Nags Head last year, not as the discolored, long suffering, pruned up person I saw. “It wasn’t her” I have to keep reminding myself.

After leaving, my thoughts turned to disbelief that she was gone, and I became sad. Not because of the loss, but because the world that she was such a part of for 49 years was moving forward. It didn’t care that we were all grieving our loss. It didn’t care that her husband is a widower at 50, or that she will never get to fully experience the life in store for her 16 year old daughter. And that’s sad.

We live our lives often thinking we are more than what we are, or we live it unsatisfied with our blessings, always wanting and asking for more than we really need. We fall into this false sense of security thinking the world will be there for us, and care for us, and will help us through our trials and tribulations. We don’t see, feel, or experience the world for what it really is until we have lost someone we loved. For we can’t understand why the world doesn’t love the way we love. We can’t understand why people still go to work and children still go to school when we are imprisoned by a seemingly overbearing grief.

And we often become cynical to the world that feeds us, not ever really understanding how it moves forward when we are at a self-imposed standstill. That’s what’s hard now. The acceptance of death has come. But non-understanding has reared its ugly head as well: How can one be allowed to suffer so long? How come we are never really prepared, even when we have had time to prepare? How come…………………….

So here it is 11:22, some 32 hours after she died. I am downstairs, alone with the cat, while MQ rests peacefully with a suddenly sick FUTURE (son, for those of you who don’t follow this blog). I have once again tapped my bottle of Bombay Sapphire, and am contemplating yet another, trying to find a way to end this diatribe. But maybe, just maybe, I should put away my inkling to try to write the All-American ending and let this end like life ends: suddenly, with absolutely no understanding of what just happened.

Dealing with Death: Epilogue

2007-06-13T20:30:00.000-07:00

MQ woke up this morning with a massive headache. She decided to go into work late. I drove the kids to school. We celebrated school being out tomorrow by stopping by Dunkin Donuts.

On the way to school, it started to rain pretty hard. I thought about the weather forecast I had just watched before leaving the house: no mention of rain. I thought this was odd.

But then I remembered something someone said when Chet died and it rained: GOD always cries when someone special dies…..

Valentine's Day with Quad

2007-02-14T08:54:00.000-08:00

So valentine’s day is here, and MQ is all awash in flowers. The mood around the office is generally good because we normally have to wear ties on Wednesday s, but we could pay $5 to wear jeans or dress down and the money would be donated to a local family violence center.

The Future is all set for his party at school, at the expense of five dozen cupcakes from the Quad. He gets so excited about holidays and the like.

Quad, on the other hand, is still in a state of disbelief. Let me explain.

MQ asked me last week what I wanted for Valentine’s day. I told her not to worry about it because she KNOWS what I want, if you know what I mean. So we tossed out some ideas.

MQ: do you want a round of golf?
Quad: not really. If I want to play golf I just pay for it. How about a membership to audible.com?
MQ: you haven’t listened to the audio books you got for Christmas yet. Why would I buy you a subscription to audible?
Quad: good point. I need to do that. how about a gift certificate to the book store? You know that I always have to have magazines available to read.

A few moments passed, and I had the grandest idea: a 7-11 coffee card. Before I could say it, MQ says, “how about a 7-11 coffee card?”

“I was just thinking that.” I said. “if you want, I can give you the one I already have and you can just reload it with about $25.” And the conversation ended there.

So I get home last night and The Future is excited as hell to see me because his grandparents (yes, my in-laws are now visiting again) had bought him a gift to give to me. He has to open it, of course, because that’s just what kids do. I bet I haven’t opened a present in two or three years, since he has figured out how to do it.

So he opens it and he gives me a can of Altoids with a heart shaped tin. All together now: awwwwwwwwww. He then grabs this other “gift.” It was flat, like a big envelope, so I’m thinking MQ took some of the pictures of me and The Future and had one of those calendars made that has a different picture for each month. Let me backtrack here and state that I really had my coffee drinking heart set on a new 7-11 coffee card. Simple? Yes. But it if you knew my addiction and love affair with coffee you would understand. It would be like giving a heroin addict a $25 dollar gift card to the local medical supply store so they could buy syringes. But his package was waaaaaaaaay too big for the 7-11 card, so I quickly reprogrammed my self to accept the calendar. Hell, before I even opened it, I was already thinking about where I could hang it in my office. Maybe right under the plackard that says “MEN.”

Finally it is opened, and I am stunned. MQ bought me, (are you ready for this?) a PAID, full year’s membership to Gold’s Gym! Can you believe that?

So now, there is no excuse for me NOT to get even bigger than I already am. 24” pythons? Bitch, please! I’m shooting for 30, but can live with 28. 625lb squat? Child’s play when I am done. 350lb bench 25 times? Toothpicks.

There you have it: the gifts of all gifts. I am supposed to call this guy named “Steve” to get my orientation. When I do, I plan to start next week. I will be documenting my “Years in the Gym” in a new blog, so I’ll keep you posted and will send out the link when I have it ready.

Quad Takes a Stress Test

2007-02-06T19:00:00.000-08:00

Because I turned 45 in December and because heart disease runs in my family, my doctor thought it would be a good idea to partake in a nuclear stress test as part of my now annual physical. Today was the day.

Before I get into my morning, I have to tell you that the last two days have been hell. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to eat or drink after midnight the night before. No big deal. Hell, I have usually drank my fill of Bombay Sapphire by ten. But I didn’t know, until I was told of course, was that I couldn’t have anything with caffeine in it for 48 hours prior to the test. So, beginning Sunday morning, no coffee.

Now to most people that’s not a big deal. But most people don’t know me. Most people don’t know that I drink 6-10 cups of coffee a day on average. That my friends, is no lie. I love coffee. It’s my addiction. It tastes like the nectar of the Gods. So it didn’t come as a surprise that when my system was used to so much caffeine intake and there was none to be had, my body would pay me back with headaches. And if you have never had one, caffeine withdrawal headaches are the absolute worst because you can’t do anything about them but feed your system caffeine. Needless to say, by the time it was time to go to bed Sunday, my head was hurting so much I couldn’t sleep.

Yesterday, the pain was there, but not as bad. But I felt lethargic all day. I felt like I was moving and talking in slow motion. People were asking me if I was OK because they had never seen me like that. I left work early and took a two hour nap before MQ and the Future got home. That seemed to help. By the time I went to bed last night, it sucked. I was tired as hell, and my headache had returned. Fast forward to this morning.

4:43 am: I wake up to go potty and couldn’t get back to sleep. My mind kept wondering and moving at 90 to nothing.

6:45 am: I must have fallen to sleep because MQ wakes me up. As she showers, I walk downstairs and commence to make our morning smoothie. For some reason, I thought the bottom of the blender container was on tight. It wasn’t and my concoction of banana, strawberry, vanilla yogurt and ice was all over the counter. “oh hell.” I thought. “I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come.”

7:25: I have showered, gotten dressed, gotten the Future dressed, kissed my daughter goodbye on her way to the bus stop and was finally out the door. It was cold as a bitch. The kind of cold that takes your breath away for the first few seconds. As I drive off, I make sure my daughter is at the bus stop.

7:34: I arrive at the hospital and am lost the minute I walk in the door. So I ask for directions to the healthy heart area. “go to the end of this hall, take a left, and then another left.” It’s not that simple, as there are multiple lefts after I take the first left at the end of the hall. I ask for directions again.

7:36: I waltz into the healthy heart area and am immediately taken aback: I am the youngest person in the waiting room and I immediately feel stupid. Everyone stopped as I walked in to gander at the Quadness, probably wondering why such a fine specimen of a man is in the healthy heart area. I check in.

“just have a seat. They will call you when it is your turn. Your appointment is not until 8:15, so you have some time.”

“great.” I think. “I was told the wrong time again. Someone has a sick sense of humor.”

7:38: I mosey down the hall to the men’s room to take my morning relief. I felt weird taking a dump in a Catholic hospital, but I guess it was OK since there was a bathroom.

7:45: damn. Thirty minutes until my appointment. I guess I will read. I pick up a Newsweek and was reading a chapter excerpt from the not-published OJ Simpson book. If there was ever a doubt he murdered his ex-wife and that queer, there isn’t one now. He did it, and he said so.

8:23: I’m called back by this 5’11 beauty. I feel embarrassed because I didn’t shave this morning. Well, not my face anyway. She explains about the dye injection, asks me to roll up my sleeve and to make a fist. It took three of them to get my sleeve over my Python, and every time I made a fist, I flexed a little and would pop the rubber tie thing off my arm. Finally, they were able to find a good vein, inserted the IV, and injected the dye.

8:45: I am taken back to this room where I have to lie on the table while this machine took incremental pictures of my heart. The machine was actually a little fascinating, but it was the most excruciating 13 minutes of my life because they were playing country music on the intercom.

9:00: I’m taken to the waiting area, but was supposed to go to the treadmill area. “we have to wait until the person that’s in there gets dressed.” The nurse said.
“dressed?” I asked
“yep.”

“that’s just great.” I thought. “I am going to have to run on this treadmill nude trying to focus through the smacking sound Roger Ramjet will make when slapping against my chest. All I need is for him to get tangled up in the EKG wires and give a false reading.”

While I am waiting, a second nurse comes in: blonde, blue eyed Nordic goddess. Pregnant. Married.

9:03: I’m taken back to the treadmill area, where I am asked to remove my shirt. Gasps fill the room as the nurses get a view of their fantasies: the Quad Pectoralis Maximus. As I stand there, I flex and make my Pecs bounce. If I had known I would have to take my shirt off, I would have oiled down first.

9:04: the DUDE attaching the EKG probes obviously wasn’t amused at my entertainment. After swabbing me down, he literally takes a miniature brillo pad and scrubs the areas where the probes will be placed.

Quad: why?
Dude: because it helps the probes stick even if you sweat while on the treadmill.
Quad: will I be making love during this treadmill action?
Dude, laughing: no. why?
Quad: because I only sweat during the love, the whole love, and nothing but the love, baby.

9:15: I’m wired and ready. I have to walk on the treadmill to get to my target heart rate. To get that, they subtract my age from 220, and multiply by .85. so my target heart rate is 148.75. every three minutes, the speed gets quicker and the incline greater.

9:18: first three minutes done. Nothing. I felt like I was taking a Sunday stroll.
9:21: pace picks up. Incline is greater, but not big deal. It feels no different than my regular walks. The pace quickens even more and the incline is greater.
9:22: this shit sucks.
9:23: this shit REALLY sucks. My legs are screaming, calling me names! My breathing quickens and I finally hit my target heart rate. “one more minute.” They tell me, and inject more dye.
9:23:30: son of a bitch. Only thirty seconds have passed? I feel like my legs are going through labor. I scream out and call the doctor a bastard. “You got my into this shit!” I scream!
9:23:40: my heart rate is now up to almost 160, which is good. My legs weigh a ton. Muscles that have never hurt before now scream out for mercy. 20 more seconds I tell myself, then it happens: I break through the wall and finish the final 20 seconds without incident. In fact, I wanted to keep going while I was on a roll.
9:30: the doctor tells me that every thing looks good, and that anyone who can successfully make it to nine minute on their treadmill is at a very, very low risk for heart problems. They remove all of the probes but three because I will need them later when they take another series of pictures of my heart. I’m taken back to the waiting area.

“would you like something cold to drink while you wait?” the Nordic goddess asks (NOTE: I have to wait 30 minutes before the pictures are taken.)

Quad: gin and tonic.
Nordic: hmm. I wish I could help you. How about cranberry, apple or grape juice, with some graham crackers?
Quad: grape please.

I commence to reading ESPN the magazine. When she returns, I close the magazine and listen to her while she sets my juice and crackers down. On the back cover of the magazine is a picture of the 49ers tight end, in his under armor shirt, running.

Nordic: oh my god. Look at those shoulders!
Quad: yeah, years of training.
Nordic: you know, I like muscle, but that’s just a little much. I think most women like a little muscle.
Quad: I think most women say that, until they run their hands on muscle. Then it’s a whole different tune they sing.
Nordic: hmm. That’s interesting.

10:00: Nordic takes me to the back and asks me to lie down on the table. When she starts to connect the probes, she runs her hand under my shirt instead of having me lift it. I notice that as she moved from pec to pec, her hand lingered, feeling the rippling of a Michael angelo sculpture. She then ran her hand across my abdomen to the probe on my side, savoring the what she couldn’t see: the quality of the six pack of Quad. I think that is why she left my shirt on so that her imagination could take charge.

10:15: I am done and the probes are removed. Again, she slides her hand under my shirt to remove them, looking me in the eye as she did it. I can only wonder what is going through her mind. We make small talk, she gives me a survey to fill out and writes her name on the card: Melissa.

I leave, and have to ask for directions to get out of the damn hospital twice. I get in my truck and haul ass to 7-11 to get me some coffee. I fill my truck up with gas, then go inside. I notice they now have chicken wings.

Quad: what kind of wings are those?
Employee 1 (female): the top ones are bar b q. the bottoms are spicy.
Employee 2 (male) from behind the register: you can get 10 for $4.90 TODAY!
Quad: that would make sense since the sign says they are 49 cents a piece!
He looks at my like I’m the dumb ass. I look back at him like, “Who’s the dumb ass?????”
Quad: I’ll take 10 hot wings.

I go get my coffee. Pick my wings that I got on special 10 for $4.90, pay and hit the road. I take my first sip of coffee in over 48 hours. “Man.” I think. “What a life I live!”

6 pints and the Intelligent Elite

2007-02-01T20:40:00.000-08:00

What do you get when you combine a Computer Science PhD, a Wake Forrest trained Lawyer, the Quad, 25 nuclear hot wings, 10 garlic wings and six pints of beer?

You have an extended lunch one Tuesday where the ideas of making the world a better place were hatched from ideas to cater to the intelligent elite. Let me explain.

Two weeks ago, there was a three part commentary in the Wall Street Journal (yes, I read it because I subscribe to it. So there.) about education and the intelligence level of those who do and don’t attempt education.

The first part dealt with the reality that although it gives people a warm fuzzy to make people believe that everyone deserves a chance for a college education, few people admit, at least publicly, that the majority of the population are not cut out for college because they lack the intelligence. And it’s not their fault, and there really isn’t much anyone can do about it. Studies have shown that classes or exercises geared toward the increase in intelligence usually only increases the IQ by a mere 8 points, and even that is short lived. It’s sort of like if you don’t use it, you lose it. So the result is that there is a considerable amount of time, energy and resources spent to create special needs programs for these students as they go through our school systems.

The second part dealt with what to do with those people caught in the middle: they have the higher IQ, but still not quite mainstream college material. The author argued for the sake of technical schools that are geared toward preparing these types of people for the workforce by teaching them a viable trade. Hey, I’m all for it.

The third part is what interested us the most, however, me in particulare. It dealt with what to do with those few people who have genius level or higher IQs. The author argued that just like you create special programs for the special needs people, not enough focus is geared toward putting forth the same energy and resources in making programs for the intelligent elite. Super intelligence, the author argues, should be viewed as an obligation instead of a right. Just like being super wealthy.

Why do you think bill gates is focusing more time on his $100 billion plus foundation? Because he and others have realized that their wealth is an obligation to the rest of mankind. They have now moved toward the “self actualization” hierarchical level (according to Maslow) be realizing their obligations to something much larger than themselves, what they created, and even their wealth. So wealth and intelligence should be viewed as obligations to a higher cause, thus they should be used for the betterment of all mankind.

There is great worry that not enough of our youth are pursuing careers in the sciences; in those areas where cures are created and technology is invented. So what do we do? We cater to the intelligent elite by creating high schools that not only prepare the students for education beyond high school, but pushes them to their intelligence limits and beyond so that they, too, can move to the higher obligation (Quad’s idea, by the way). While staying humble to their roots, we foster their beliefs in their intelligence and the possibilities such intelligence holds. We treat them as the special needs people that they are. For if we don’t, we deny ourselves and the world the distinct possibility that we can actually move toward a level 1 society within this century.

Our mantra is “All for one.” Not to mimmick or mawk or make fun of, but to try to move to our own higher cause. Will we get there? I don’t know. But I’ll let you know after Tuesday, because that’s our next “lunch.”

The Couch, A Dollar, and CHKD

2007-01-28T19:37:00.000-08:00

We’ve been in the Quad dome now going on five years. And we still don’t have any damn furniture in the “living room.” Ever since we moved here, MQ has slowly decorated that room to resemble a living room from a beach house. Considering she used to live at the beach and we spend probably a month or more total per year at nags head, hatteras, or myrtle beach, I had no problem with it. After “beach” pictures, pelicans, and the like, I’ve been lobbying hard now for a month or so for furniture.

MQ had decided long ago that she wanted the furniture to be Rattan. No problem. I’ve always liked that type of furniture. So I was happy as a drunk with a keg when MQ found a Rattan sofa that her best friend was going to give us. Her friend bought some new furniture and wanted to give us her Rattan couch. Needless to say, after the fellas and I played golf a couple of weeks ago, I went to the friend’s house to get the couch.

Now, a couch is heavy enough. Add a hide a bed, plus being made out Rattan, and you’ve got a couch that is heavy as hell, but he ain’t my brother, if you know what I mean. So imagine my, ummm, state of mind after I loaded that heavy bastard into the truck, unloaded it into the garage, only to have MQ tell me that she didn’t like it because 1) she thought the cushions were more colorful (they are an off white) and 2) the Rattan was too light and didn’t match out current wood work.

Quad: we can stain it to match.
MQ: no. too much trouble.
Quad: maybe we can pay someone to do it. They can also upholster the fabric to a pattern you like.
MQ: nahh. That’s too expensive.
Quad: it can’t be as much as a new one, can it.
MQ: well, it’s not what I wanted.
Quad: then why the hell did you have me go get it?
MQ: I didn’t know I wasn’t going to like it.
Quad: why didn’t you go see it, or ask your friend about it?

I guess that made too much damn sense because she closed the door without answering.

Fast forward to yesterday, Saturday. I had decided that I was going to take the sofa down to the thrift store and donate it.

MQ: which one are you going tot take it to?
Quad: the DAV down on Mercury.
MQ: why the DAV?
Quad: well, my dad is a disabled vet. Your dad is a disabled vet. I just thought I would take it there in hopes it will help future vets.
MQ: why not the Children’s Hospital of the Kings Daughters thrift store?
Quad: I hadn’t thought of that. Why?
MQ: well, I was talking to this lady while I was getting my hair done, and she was telling me how her and her husband had had a boy, but it died at two weeks old because of some heart condition. Now, she’s pregnant again and they just found out that that baby, too, has a heart condition. I just thought it would be nice if you took it down there.
Quad: you know what? I just read last week about the two year old grandson of Joe Gibbs being diagnosed with leukemia. I’ll take it down there. Good idea.

So I load it into the truck, and me and The Future take it down to the CHKD thrift store. I park in front and go in.

Quad: I have a couch I want to donate. Where should I put it? (NOTE: I have my own U-haul grade hand truck with a strap.)
Counter Girl: just leave it on the sidewalk with everything else.
Quad: do I get a receipt?
CG: he yah go. (she hands me a blank receipt for ME to fill out).

So while I am unloading the couch, The Future is “helping” this guy back his truck up to his trailer. The man subsequently hands The Future a dollar. Cool.

About this time, this woman appears.
Quad: where would you like for me to put this?
Woman: just take it in the stoe.
Quad: where should I put it once I am in there?
Woman: on the floe.
Quad: no shit? I know that. But where? This thing is heavy and I don’t want to be moving it all over the store.
Woman: just leave it here on the sidewalk.

So I unload it, move it to the sidewalk, and unload the cushions. The women spray it with sanitizer. I put The Future in the truck and buckled him in.

Quad: where to, pook.
Future: 7-11!
Quad: why 7-11?
Future: cause I got a dollar!

That’s right, son. And we just helped a lot of children. What a way to spend a Saturday morning.

Silence in the Hood

2007-01-18T10:04:00.000-08:00

12 days and counting.

No. I am not going on a trip or anything, but it’s been twelve days since I have seen my in-laws, much less talked to them. As you know, if you read this regularly, my mother-in-law feels I disrespected her because I got on her ass about the way she talked to my daughter…….hmmmmmm………interesting how someone can dish some disrespect, but can’t take it. know what I mean?

I asked MQ last night if her mom was still sweatin’ me.

MQ: why? Do you miss her?
Quad: no. but I can’t believe that she is not over it yet.
MQ: well, not everyone get’s over things as quickly as you do.
Quad: it’s just surprising. That’s all.

Now………..

There was a GASMAN sighting yesterday. Yes, sportsfans, the Prince of Flatulation was roaming the sacred halls of the school yesterday…….

Super Jiggy E has been talking about dieting all day. Turns out that the Bone is trying to lose weight. Why, I don’t know. He’s always been 200 lbs of twisted steel and sex appeal, dudes.

Then it turns out Lumpy is also on a diet. E-bone’s lamentation is eating the food from the diet provider. Lumpy’s is supplementation. Let’s me set it straight for you, dudes and dudettes.

E: keep your damn $300 a month you pay them for food and save it for our trip to the lake this summer.

Lump: eat what you want, ‘cause here’s the key.

I can almost bet a case of beer that neither one of them are exercising along with their diets.

Hell, boner hasn’t done ANYTHING remotely active since the last time he waxed between his brows. So here’s the key to losing weight (well, two keys actually): portion control and burning more calories than you take in.

Forget carb control, buying special food, and all of that other horse crap. Eat and drink what you want, just in moderation. Remember: I didn’t get to be Quad the Bod by eating everything in site brothers and sisters.

Unless, of course, it was fur burgers!

Baking Soda and Fire Hoses

2007-01-16T08:19:00.000-08:00

I was supposed to go fishing this past Sunday with Excuse Man, but I wan up all night Saturday night with this persistent heartburn. After finally getting to sleep at about 3 or so, I just didn’t see myself getting up at 6 to go fishing. I like to fish. Don’t get me wrong, but not that day.

So I was talking to him later and telling him about it and told me about this “home remedy” of mixing baking soda with water, then drinking it down. “you’ll burp a lot, but it works like a champ.” He says. Hell, I had had heartburn for so long I was willing to try it. when I mentioned it to MQ she said she had heard of that, and that it was what her best friend does when she has heartburn. NOTE: I already take Nexium for that.

Well, last night I got up at around midnight to get some milk, take some tums type pills, when MQ suggested I try the baking soda thing. So I went back downstairs, mixed two tablespoons of baking soda in a large glass of water and drank it.

Words can not describe how awful that shit tasted. It was making me gag. In fact, after I drank it I felt 1000 times worse than I did before I drank it. now, on top of my heartburn, I had a sever stomach ache and felt like I was going to throw up. With the throwing up episode from November still fresh in my mind, I damn sure didn’t want to spend another night talking to the porcelain gods. I was able to get things settled by lying on my back and absolutely not moving. Every time I moved, the gurgling would stop. Funny thing though, it didn’t help my heartburn at all. Then it happened.

At 2:30, I woke up having to go number 2. Saying that it sounded like a fire hose turned on full blast with some chunkage mixed in is an understatement. I’m surprised the force didn’t bust through the porcelain and make a tunnel all the way to china. But I felt better.

I then went downstairs to get some more milk, and it hit again. “damn.” I thought. “not a night of THIS.” And again the fire hose syndrome started. It finally solidified a little toward the end to make things interesting.

Fortunately, I didn’t have another attack. But I decided that the whole baking soda thing is a bunch of malarkey. I’ll never try that again. It wasn’t worth it. BUT, I can honestly say one thing about this whole episode: Quad is NO LONGER full of shit! :-)

One of Those Weeks

2007-01-15T08:48:00.000-08:00

It’s been a rough week or so for sir quadness. As a result, I have been in a little bit of a funk.

A week from last Thursday, we (the school) found out that a former student (was in my department) had committed suicide. If that wasn’t tragic enough, this young lady was only 32 and had a couple of children. Then we find out from the autopsy that there were “indications of bruises” on her body/face as well as “pills being forced” in her mouth. So who the hell knows.

That Saturday, we had all of my wife’s family that is local over at the house for a seafood fest. At one point, my mother-in-law yelled at my daughter (not by my current wife). Her yelling isn’t what upset me, but the way she looked at my daughter when she said it. it was a look of pure hatred. Regardless, I told my mother-in-law that she “needed to get that look off her face” because she didn’t need to look at my daughter that way to get her point across. MQ pitched in and was trying to defend her mom, then I told everyone it didn’t matter, just “chill the hell out.” Before my in-laws left, I apologized to my mother-in-law.

Well, I haven’t seen them since. We invited them over this weekend but she said “it was too early.”

“too early for what?” I asked MQ.

“too early for her to get over you disrespecting her.”

“disrespecting her? What the hell?”

Then she told me how her mom was feeling. It sort of pissed me off because her mom is one of those strong willed women that will tell you exactly what she thinks whenever she wants, disregarding respect, feelings, or whatever. AND NEVER APOLOGIZES!!! But the minute someone stands up to her, she feels disrespected.

“just as well.” MQ said. “it was getting a little much seeing them all the time anyway.”

Whew. At least MQ knows where I am coming from.

I played golf with hor-hey, jake-o and double-l that weekend as well. I shot a 10 on number one. Here’s the kicker. I shot a ten, we (me and double l) were up by two holes, and I was up on hor hey by two strokes after 9.

Then, of course, we make the turn and the beer kicks in. by the 10th hole, we had downed almost a 12 pack (double l wasn’t drinking). I ended up shooting a 100 and losing 4 holes to jake and hor-hey. No matter. It was a good time. It’s always a good time.

The week at work was weird. It was like everyone has been in a pissy mood. I think everyone at work was going through their 28-day cycle all at once. It was weird. I can’t even explain it.

There was also another death within the Brotherhood family, but I won’t talk about it.

So all of that and a bag of chips too, and you can see why Quad is a little out of his element. On a more positive note……………

I found a 23 unit apartment complex I was interested in that is on the market for 1.3 mil. Regardless of my offer price, if I make an offer, I was approved for 90% loan to value. Man, it’s good to know that I have that kind of fundage at my disposal. I didn’t like the terms originally set out by the lender, so I am shopping around. Things are happening, and it looks like my plan to have enough investments by September so I can quit teaching full time is right on track. Funny thing………the more things happen with my company, the more I seem to dislike my job……..maybe it’s knowing that at some point in the next 9 months (providing everything plays out accordingly) I won’t have to rely on someone else for money; that I’ll be completely self sufficient.

The REAL New Year's Pictures

2007-01-09T15:55:00.000-08:00

The Future and Little Jake

Ladies and Gentlemen. The Brotherhood (minus Hor-Hey)

Dickie, Jake-O, Quad, E-Bone

My Pride and Joy: The Future of Alabama Football

The Last Word

2007-01-09T15:44:00.000-08:00

NOTE: this blog was actually written last Friday. I just didn't have the opportunity to post it. As a result, Jake and Hor-Hey commenced to waxing my ass royally on the golf course Saturday.

You know, I sometimes don’t understand the logic, or the lack thereof, of women. As hard as they try sometimes they just don’t make a bit of damn sense. Maybe that is why we love them so much: we can live each day to its fullest with the silent assurance that we are smarter than they are.

Yes. I know. I know. They have the pussy, so they make the rules. I know that. But that statement or that assumption doesn’t dictate logic or common sense in their dealings with us. Take this conversation with MQ I just had that, 15 minutes later, still has me completely confused.

I get this email from her that she had sent to a friend of hers and CC’d me. Here it is:
“OK - put that desk outside on your driveway tomorrow morning and I will have Quad swing by and pick it up after he finishes playing golf tomorrow morning (quad - the desk is that drawing desk we gave that used to have)”.

So I ask you, does this email make any sense and should I know what the f--- she is talking about? So I emailed her back:

“I have no idea what you are talking about. Call me to explain. Thanks.”

No I love you’s or anything. Just call me. For all of you young guns out there, this was one of those times where I just had to be dictatorial in my statement. Anyway, the phone rings. Here’s the conversation.

Quad: hello.
MQ: it’s that desk ***** used to have that had the side pocket for paper, the little tray on top for pencils and crayons, and had the light underneath it.
Quad: oh yeah. I remember.
MQ: well, we loaned it to ***** when she was younger and she doesn’t want it any more. So I asked her mom to put it by the road so that you can swing by and pick it up after golf tomorrow (NOTE: I have a Jake-O/Hor-Hey ass whipping scheduled for 0750 hours in the morning).
Quad: ok. Where do you want me to put it when I get home (NOTE: this is a good lesson for the newly married’s. you have to be as specific as possible in your questioning in order to get your wife to commit to a rock solid answer. Had I not asked this question, it would have been the wrong location regardless of where I put it.)
MQ: well, we don’t need it because The Future has that new desk. I was going to see if ***** wanted it. if she doesn’t want it, then we can just get rid of it.
This is where the conversation gets illogical.
Quad: so let me get this straight. You want me to go pick up a desk from someone else so that we can get rid of it.
MQ: yes.
Quad: that’s stupid. Just have them get rid of it.
MQ: how is SHE supposed to get rid of it?
Quad: is she married?
MQ: yes.
Quad: doesn’t her husband have a truck?
MQ: yes.
Quad: then she can have HIS ass take it to the dump. He can take it to the dump just as easily as I can. And I am NOT picking something up just so I can get rid of it.
MQ is silent. I can sense her mind churning. Then it happens.
MQ: that’s fine.
Oh shit. Hell is about to break loose. A man never wants to hear “that’s fine” from his wife.
Quad: do you understand my point?
MQ: yeah, I understand it. I’ll just tell ***** tonight just to go ahead and get rid of it.
Quad: OK. Sounds good. Thanks.
MQ: but I don’t know why you can’t just go pick it up. click.

Women. Illogical and always have to get the last word in.

The Capstone, The Spread, and The Brotherhood

2007-01-03T10:27:00.000-08:00

The news from the Capstone is that Nick Saban will be named the 27th head football coach at Alabama later today. While on the one hand I am happy because I feel he will restore the Tide to its glory days, I worry because he has never stayed anywhere longer than 4 years.

I won lunch off of the Louisville-wake forest game last night. The spread was Wake +10 and over/under 54, so I gave the 10 points with under 54 to a friend of mine who graduated from Wake for lunch. The final score was 24-13, so I squeaked by by one point. Oh well, I’m getting free Chinese today for lunch!

Not much has been happening in the world of Quad. I got everything I asked for from Santa (with the exception of…. Well, you know). I had a good holiday break. I was able to go fishing and enjoyed the hell out of that. even though we were skunked, it was good to be on the water. I am finding the more time I spend on the water the more I feel like that is where I need to be. It relaxes me. It feels good to feel the wind.

As noted yesterday, the new year was rung in with a gathering at Jake’s house. Man, what a good time. You know, I was watching the end of the movie “Family Stone” (five Quad Stars) last night while “The Future” (formerly known as Pookie) was in the bath. As they stood around the Christmas tree enjoying its beauty at the end and the realization that their mom/wife/grandmother had passed, I couldn’t help but feel a little melancholic regarding new year’s eve. There is nothing I want more than for the brotherhood to get to the point where we are together constantly, celebrating birthdays, anniversary’s, holidays, etc. over the years.

At some point, we will be the only family each of us have. We need to build on our family NOW. Our children need to grow up knowing their “cousins” and their “uncles” and “aunts.” We need to welcome each other into our homes unconditionally and without abandon so that we will always have a “home” to go to. We need to be there for each other, forever.

I’ll tell you this, that was the warmest gathering of people the other night that I think I have ever been around. Jake and his wife have done a marvelous job of creating a home environment where everyone feels welcome the minute they walk through the door.

So, we have started to make plans for a vacation this summer. E-bone brought up going to Smith Mountain Lake for a week and said if I took my boat then he would pay for the cabin. Man, I can’t wait for that. it will be a blast fishing and drinking with the fellas and the families and watching the chilluns jump off the pier to swim. The entire brotherhood is invited, to include families.

As our 20th year of friendship rang it at midnight, the year long celebration of life and friendship has begun. If the second 20 years is anything like the first 20, then I can’t wait! Vive’ Le Brotherhood!

Happy New Year!

2007-01-02T13:49:00.000-08:00

The world let out a collective yell last night as the heavily favored Oklahoma Sooners fell to the George Mason of College Football, Boise State University. With 22 points being scored in the last 86 seconds of the game, then a gut wrenching, career defining, big ball having two point conversion to win the game, it was a game that even Hollywood could not have matched no matter who was writing the screenplay. If you get the chance, watch that game on ESPN classic because it was the best game of the bowl season aside from the ass whipping USC put on Michigan. And people wanted Michigan to play Ohio State again for the National Title? Bitch, please.

Anyway, this game was watched the night after we spent New Year’s eve at Jake-O’s house. The brotherhood was all out in full force, with the exception of Hor-Hey. He was in Kentucky visiting family, but we dearly missed him and his clan. E-Bone came down from the DC area with the family, and the ever lofted Dickie from Dickie toys made an appearance. It was one for the ages as we all sat around and partied like rock stars with kids playing in the background. It was truly a Norman Rockwell moment that will forever be painted upon the canvas of life.

Blah blah blah. Let me show you some pictures from that night.

Jake’s wife was going to make a vegetable tray. But before she cut up the carrots, she took a picture of them. E-Bone said those were the best tasting carrots of all time. Hmmm. Wonder why?

Speaking of E-bone, he was drinking his beer from a glass all night. Don’t know why. Maybe he liked the taste of what was REALLY in his glass!!!

Jake and his wife bought a new house this year. They went from 1200 square feet to around 2000. Man, what a change. He even had a custom fence put in. Check it out.

Jake’s back porch. He hasn’t finished unpacking from the move yet.

E-bone showed off his new tattoo.

2006-12-28T07:02:00.000-08:00

If you read yesterday’s post then you read my diatribe about our dryer going out. Needless to say, MQ and her parents have spent the better part of the last couple of days looking for new dryers. I have to hand to MQ though. As weird as she about things having their place and about hiding the cords from the Christmas lights, I was surprised to find out that she just wanted a high capacity dryer. It didn’t have to match. If you know MQ at all, you’ll understand my surprise.

MQ has this friend who has been real sick. If you have been reading me for a while, you may have read where I mentioned her friends husband in a discussion I had about guys being “Man Bitches.” Anyway, MB’s wife has been real sick so MQ has been checking in on her daily to keep tabs. During her conversation yesterday or the day before, MQ’s friend told her that she had a dryer in her garage that is just taking up space. She said we could have it if we came and got it because she ultimately bought a matching set. So my wife called and told me all of this.

I was excited because I wasn’t going to have to shell out the money for a new dryer. Again, I am, uhhh, sort of chincy with my money, if you know what I mean. I have no problem buying eels for striper fishing at $2 a pop, plus 20 oz sinkers at 18 cents an ounce, or maybe even spending close to $100 for some stretch-20’s and stretch-25’s (if you fish, you know what I am talking about). But man, I just couldn’t handle having to take money away from my boating/fishing habit to buy a dryer. Know what I mean?

So I meet MQ over at her friend’s house last night to pick up the dryer. All went well. MB actually helped me out a little. Pookie was excited because he got to walk up the ramps to the back of my truck. MQ was happy because she got a dryer. I was happy because I didn’t have to spend money, plus MB gave me a beer. Hell, what more could I ask for, you know?

When we get home and I start to unload the dryer, for some reason it looked very familiar to me. But, I thought it was just me because sometimes it seems like everything looks familiar to me.

This is how you know you live right and do the right things. And this type of shit happens to me all the damn time, it seems. But anyway, I unload the dryer and take it into the laundry room. It was then I realized why I thought the dryer looked familiar: it is the exact match to the washer. Can you believe that? An exact match. That, my friends, is how you know you live right.

2006-12-27T09:39:00.000-08:00

First things first. E-bone WINS! E-bone WINS! Yes, my friends, for the second year in a row, the lowest seeded team comes through to win our fantasy football league. Just as Quad came from the 4th seed last year, the mighty E-bone’s Bills ram shacked its way through the bracket, finally beating perennial number one Master Slackers by 1.5 points. In melodious order, E-bone took out the L-Quad Dudesters, the Syrens, and finally the Master Slackers on his way to championship glory. So, E-bone, let me be the first to congratulate you on your win. You deserved it after all the bashing I gave you. But I’ll be honest, as much as I wanted to repeat as champion, I would rather YOU have it if I couldn’t. It just goes to show that we are brothers I all that we do.

Quad celebrated his 45th birthday on the 22nd. I think it was the best birthday yet. We (wife, kids, and in-laws) celebrated at Yukihana’s (again), and I got some cool gifts. The main one being a 30gb Ipod. The little 2gb that I got for father’s day just wasn’t cutting it.

Christmas eve sort of sucked, but not because it was Christmas eve. MQ was doing her womanly duties, the laundry, and the dryer went out in mid-cycle. So I did the manly thing and volunteered to take the clothes to the local Laundromat and dry them. Besides, it would give me a chance to get caught up on my reading. The whole time I was driving to the Laundromat I was trying to convince myself that the good Lord made this happen for a reason, that there was a REAL reason that I was being sent to the Laundromat on Christmas eve.

Maybe, I thought, I was going to get to experience what Christmas is really about: giving and being thankful. I drove there, excited with overwhelming anticipation. As I walked in and saw that every damn washer and dryer was being used, it was then I realized why I was sent there: so that I could see where every damn, bean eating, burrito loving illegal alien spends their Sundays. I haven’t seen that many damn illegal-aliens since they marched back in may, protesting their illegality.

I never understood that either. Here we are, knowing we have a problem with illegals, trying to solve the problem of them coming into our country illegally, came up with this GREAT idea of building a fucking wall to try to keep them out, when all they had to do is this: we knew they were marching in every major city in America on May 3rd. why didn’t we round them bitches up THEN and send them back? Maybe I would have been able to dry my clothes on Christmas eve. But nooooooooooo. We want to build a wall!!!

Anyway, I ended up over at my in-laws house and dried them there. The cool thing about that was that they were at MY house for Christmas dinner! I still was able to catch up on my reading as well as eat one of the chocolate covered marshmallow santas they were saving for Pookie. Man, was that damn thing good or what?

E-Bone and A Wal-Mart Rant

2006-12-19T08:44:00.000-08:00

It’s now official: E-Bone is in the finals against the Master Slackers! E-bone won H-U-DOUBLE-G-UGE this week. Beat the Syrens by a solid ten points. Projections show E-bone to be an almost double-digit point favorite, so we are ALL rooting for the Boner. Hey, if it can’t be Quad, it has to be E-bone. We have to keep it all in the family, you see.

So I was reading the Super Jiggy E blog yesterday and he was ranting about going to Wal-Mart. Even though they boast about low prices, I can’t go into there without spending a hundred bills or so. It’s been a long time since Quad busted on Wal-Marts, but I have to say something about a trip there me and the Pook went on this weekend.

It’s bad enough you have to put up with all the undesirables that normally shop there, which is where I think I am a little fortunate. The Wal-Mart I frequent in Yorktown is relatively new and it just doesn’t attract the customer base the ones in Hampton and Newport News do. If you are familiar with this area, you know what I am talking about. But, my Wal-Mart still suffers from what the others do: people stopping in the middle of the aisle to talk.

So this weekend, me and Pook were motoring through there because we were on a mission. And all of a sudden these people in front of me stopped right in the middle of the aisle and just started talking. What the hell?

No I am all for collaborating when you are shopping with someone because collaboration breeds expediency. Evidently, not everyone believes that. but why in the hell do you have to stop in the middle of the aisle to talk? Can’t you pull over to the side like you do on the highway? I mean, God forbid you decided to stop in the middle of I-64 so you can discuss which exit to take, you know? The same law should apply in the store. Pull over, let the others pass you buy.

Otherwise, you might find a shopping cart up your Jake-O…….know what I mean, Vern?

E-Bone, Tailgates, and Teen Age Girls

2006-12-18T05:20:00.000-08:00

It looks as though E-bone is going to have the last laugh after all. Coming in with a 7-6 record and having the 6th seed, he has very quietly knocked off the number 3 and 2 seeds in successive weeks. Yep, E-bone beat the Syrens by two points and he STILL has a player playing tonight. So it looks like it will be E-bone’s Bills vs. the Master Slackers from the steel city of Pittsburgh for the championship. Can you believe that? What makes matters worse, Quad scores the most points in the league AGAIN to take the 5th spot (hopefully). The Wart Hogs have a player tonight and he needs to make up 18 points or so. Man, story of my life: kick ass and take names all season, lose to the syrens in a fluke in the last week, lose to the Bone Man in the first round, then was able to score the most points because Vick decides to throw 4 touchdowns!

Hey Vick the Dick! Where was this shit the last couple of weeks when I needed it most, you wanker spanker?

I was supposed to play golf yesterday with jake-o, hor-hey, and double-L, but we went o Yukihana on Saturday, this hibachi type Japanese place. Man, I was up all night with the stomach aches and diarrhea. I just could see myself trying to swing it yesterday when I had to shit every five minutes or so.

So I was driving pookie to school on Friday and we always play this game to see how many trucks we can see that have ladders. I know it sounds corny, but the kid is only 4 and if that is what he wants to do, then fine. Anyway, this white truck passes us. Naturally, because it is white, it is dirty. But check this out. Someone had taken their finger and written on the tail gate “I wish my wife was this dirty.” I snickered as I watched it drive away and thought, “Mine too, dude. Mine too.”

Stopped by hardees on my way home from fishing on Saturday. I don’t normally go to hardees, but it was the closest fast food store around that I could take a piss at. Anyway, I’m standing there waiting for my order when this teenage girl walks in. since it was so warm on Saturday, she had on this tee shirt. I turned around and read it. It read, “Let me be honest with you…I’m a liar.” Hmmm. What irony lies within that shirt. So if one is a liar and is being honest with you, does that still make them a liar or a non-liar? Man, I am still confused over that one.

Anyway, let me run………I just wanted to give you guys a quick update to let you know that we will all be rooting for E-Bone next week! It would give me extreme pleasure, as reigning champion, to pass this year’s trophy to him. GO E-BONE! GO!!!!!!

I am old

2006-12-15T07:54:00.000-08:00

Well, I am officially old now. You have heard me write before about the future of Alabama football, my son Pookie (4 years old). I haven’t written too much about my daughter. She is turning 14 tomorrow. She’s your typical brooding teenager who lives for books, game boys, and playstations. She’s a good girl who loves her daddy, as do all women it seems.

You see, when my daughter was three, my then wife left the both of us hanging so she could go “find herself” with this couple. From what I understand, the only thing she found was the guy’s you-know-what up her dook-chute while her face was buried in the poonanie of the wife. Weird, I know, but if you know my ex, you could fathom that whole scenario. So after almost 15K is legal fees, I won sole custody of my daughter and raised her BY MYSELF until she was nine, which just happened to be the time me and MQ started dating.

It seems as her mother got older, she has become more melancholic and is now trying to be the mom that she wasn’t during the formative years of our daughter. Thus, you can see why my daughter is reserved and brooding. So what does this have to do with me being old?

Well, I get a call from my ex on Wednesday saying that she got a call from my daughter’s school because, you guessed it, my daughter started her period. It was a weird feeling because I don’t know how I was feeling. I still don’t two days later.

So, Quad fans, I am old. BUT…………….I can still whoop Jake and E-bone’s asses in golf!!!!

E-Bone and Victoria's Secret

2006-12-12T17:20:00.000-08:00

All bullshit aside, I spend a lot of time reading business magazines and listening to podcasts about business, negotiating, real estate, etc. I am always particularly interested in the history of businesses, specifically how they got their names.

For example, back in the day I used to throw an annual party that turned out to be one of the biggest throw downs in Hampton, VA. For the last three years of it, I hired this band called “Exit 173.” One time while talking to them, I asked them how they got the name for the band. They told me they were traveling in Tennessee once in the early days (before the band was formerly a band). During the ride, they were contemplating what to call the band when they came upon the exit there were supposed to take, which happened to be Exit 173. Thus, the name stuck.

Business history is littered with both good and bad names, some names borderline stupid or absurd. For example, there is a local law firm called “Notable Attorneys.” I’m quite sure that some one could and would read the name of their firm as “Not Able Attorneys” and come away with a connotation different that what was intended. Then there is the “Gun Skill” (guns kill) shooting range, a talent agency called “Cast Raters” (castrators), an online movies database called “KnowsPics.com” (nose picks), and finally my favorite: a motivation consulting company called “DO! DO!”

For some reason, trivial things like that interest me. One business name that has always baffled me was Victoria’s Secret. Knowing that the store sells lingerie and the like, many people have always thought that that is where the name came from: the founder’s name was Victoria and her secret was what she was wearing underneath her clothes. Hmmm. That’s logical. But now the truth comes out.

Turns out that Victoria isn’t a Victoria at all, but a formerly “Victor” who had gender identity problems and decided to start the process to become Victoria. Legend has it that Victor grew up an only child of a couple who divorced because the wife left the husband for another woman. As a result, Victor grew up being exposed to everything “woman,” and eventually thought that he should be Victoria instead of Victor. Having the support of his Mom and Mom, he started selling women’s under clothes at parties like Tupperware, hosted by women in the privacy of their own homes in hopes of funding his eventual sex change operation. The business became so succesful, he decided to take it mainstream, all the while parading around like a woman, calling himself Victoria, building a business empire that spans the globe.

But now, for the first time, we all know what Victoria’s Secret really is. It isn’t lingerie at all. It’s this:

So now that the truth is out, I wonder if it will still be called Victoria’s Secret or E-bone’s Night Out?

E-Bone's Bills Upset the L-Quad Dudesters

2006-12-12T07:06:00.000-08:00

The football gods have repaid me for talking so much shit the last few weeks. As predicted yesterday, perennial powerhouse E-Bone’s Bills knocked Quad out of the Fantasy Football playoffs with a nail biting two point win.

After steamrolling through the league, I talked more shit than Jake-O’s ass when he has the quails, even going so far as petitioning my boss to put a plaque up in the hallway denoting the yearly champions because I was so sure I would repeat.. I clinched a playoff spot after 9 weeks, and was guaranteed a first round bye until that bitch rex grossman decided to have a bad couple of weeks. So I went back to Michael vick at QB and what does he do? Decides for one game out of the year NOT to run, doesn’t throw a TD pass, throws an interception, and only gets me 5 MFing points after averaging almost 18 all year. What a time to decide to play human, bitch!

So I did what any good sportsman would do: I called the Bone first thing this morning and congratulated him. Here’s the conversation:

Bone: hello. This is boner
Quad: hey man. It’s quad. I just wanted to say………….
Bone, interrupting Quad in mid-sentence: DOWN GOES MACHO! DOWN GOES MACHO! Click.

That’s right, the Bone hung up on Quad. While on the phone, I could hear partying, music, chics, and Ebone singing

Weeeeeeeeee are the champions, of footballllllll!
Weeeeeeee beat the shit out offfffff the Quaddddddddddd!
Quaaaaaad is an assssssshole.
QUAD IS AN ASSHOLE!
We are the champions
We are the championssssssssssssss.
Of the leagueeeeeeeeeee!

Can you believe that shit? Oh well, I just wanted to tell E-Bone congratulations and that I still love him!

Now, I think I’ll go drink and prepare for my 5th place game this week with the WartHogs.

On the Ropes with Quad

2006-12-11T08:33:00.000-08:00

In what could rival some of the greatest upsets in sports history, it looks as though Quad’s reign atop the fantasy football world could very easily come to a close tonight. What looked like a slam dunk repeat just two weeks ago, Quad is now on the ropes by the late bloomer and perennial new comer, E-Bone’s Bills. Quad has to make up 25.5 points tonight with the Bears defense and the Bears kicker. Projections show only a 17 point differential, but projections are wrong.

E-bone, normally silent, sent the following email to the Quad this morning and CC’d all of the brotherhood. Check it out.

“Tomorrow's headline: The newcomer E-Bone takes down last years champ, or is that chump, the L-Quad Dudesters! I know, I know, you still have two players left tonight, but you need 25 points, and there only 17 projected. Ain't never gonna happen. You should have known better that to stay with Vic! Ha, 4 points. Last you played me he had 4 touchdowns, you knew that was a once in a lifetimer.

E-Bone's the man!”

So tomorrow, one of two things is going to happen. E-bone is going to be gloating because the unthinkable has happened. If Quad loses, reverberations of Howard Cosell, when George Forman knocked down Joe Frazier, will be heard: “DOWN GOES FRAZIER! DOWN GOES FRAZIER!” Except the world will be chanting, “DOWN GOES MACHO! DOWN GOES MACHO!”

OR, Quad will do what he normally goes against the E-bone and pull 26 points out of his ass and send the Bone packing, all the while singing, “NA NA NA NA……NA NA NA NA……….HEY HEY HEY………GOODBYE!!!!!!!”

Good luck, Boner.

The Ironies of Marriage

2006-12-06T06:39:00.000-08:00

I watched an interview with Donald Trump once, and he was asked about his marriage. He said he likes being married, but only if he doesn’t have to “work” at it. he said that if he has to “work” at his marriage, then it isn’t worth being married. What he was really saying is that people make marriage more difficult than it needs to be. And I agree with that. marriage shouldn’t be this massive struggle that just saps the energy right out of you every day.

But he didn’t speak of the great ironies of marriage. Hmmm. I wonder why.

Which brings me to this: why do women tell you one thing, then get pissed off when you do what they said you could do?

We all know of the story of MQ telling me that I could go fishing one time while we were at Nags Head. So I went, and returned about six or seven hours later to a pissed off wife.

Quad: why are you pissed? YOU said I could go fishing!
MQ: I didn’t say you could stay all day!
Quad: you didn’t specify a time limit. Besides, there can’t be a time limit when you go fishing!
MQ: why not?
Quad: because it goes against the laws of man and nature. Besides, I give you permission to bring me a damn beer, but yet I don’t bitch about how long it takes you.

Which brings me to a recent fishing trip with my father in law.

You heard the story. While not as great as the story of E “Rolan Martin” Bone’s striper story of late, we did catch some striper and a whole heard of blue catfish, one of which weighed well over 20lbs.

So by the time we got back, cleaned the fish, cleaned the boat and was done, it was already 4 o’clock or so. MQ didn’t bitch at all. She enjoyed me being gone because she was able to decorate the house. Plus, I had the future of Alabama Football with me: Pookie. So MQ had some “quiet” time. But my mother in law is a different story.

Instead of spending the day in relaxation, she decides that she will wash windows, knowing damn well that doing them from outside is next to impossible for her because of her knee replacement. But she did it anyway……then bitched like there was no tomorrow at my father in law because he went fishing and wasn’t there to help her, even though it was HER idea that we go!

Which brings me to a recent “discussion” I had with MQ.

I came home last Tuesday from work to find a big assed crock pot full of beans. Seems MQ was looking out after the Quad by taking some of the left over ham from thanksgiving to make some beans. I love beans. I don’t necessarily like the way they make me have heartburn, but I love them. So when I saw this, I talked to MQ about it.

Quad: what are these for?
MQ: I knew you liked them, so I thought I would make you some.
Quad: that’s great! You didn’t have to do that!
MQ: I know, but it was something I knew you liked.
Quad: I appreciate it, but listen. I’m going to eat some beans when they are done, but please don’t say anything about the “effect” they will have on me after I eat them!

Which of course was a statement said in vain because the first time quad busted one out after eating beans, MQ gets all pissed off!

Quad: brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRAP!
MQ: why did you do that?
Quad: because I had to……..
MQ: hold it in!
Quad: I can’t……it hurts too much when I do.
MQ: then leave the room!
Quad: and get up off the couch? Bitch, please!!!!
MQ: well we shouldn’t have to suffer like this.
Quad: no suffering baby. Remember, Quad’s shit don’t stink!
MQ: yeah. Right.
Quad: you know it!

So here we have two examples of women creating great ironies within relationships, where none needed to be created! Problems arose because of these ironies, yet some how it was still our (men) fault. Which leaves me with a question for the Quad Kingdom:

Why do women do this?

E-bone, fishing, and football

2006-12-05T07:25:00.000-08:00

So super jiggy e reported that E-bonious Rex went to the outer banks and supposedly landed a striper from the shore in the 40-50LB range. Being a striper fisherman and knowing a little about their migration habits and their habits in general, I was a little skeptical. However, I wasn’t THAT familiar with striper fishing in the outer banks. So I called a friend of mine, Jeff Branson, who runs a charter out of the Oregon inlet and told him the story. His answer? It’s plausible.

He said while unusual, it IS possible because there are deep pockets (15-20 feet deep) all along the outer banks. A striper could have found his/her way into one of those pockets by any number of ways, such as being chased by a much larger fish. Knowing that stripers that large are normally caught in the DEEP water 3 miles past the Chesapeake bay bridge tunnel, I’m still skeptical of the story. I want to see pictures!

Now, here’s the news of the week: E-BONE MADE THE PLAYOFFS!!! That’s right sports fans, E-bone made the final slot in a field of six in our fantasy football league. As expected (in last week’s update), the syrens beat the L-Quad Dudesters in the final week of play, bumping me down to the number three seed. As a result, my first round game is, you guessed it: E-BONES BILLS!!!!

That’s right brothers and sisters, the Bone gets a second shot at the defending champion, Quad the Bod. Stay tuned as it REALLY gets interesting this week.

2006-11-28T17:01:00.000-08:00

Alright. The fantasy league is coming down to the wire, taking six teams to the playoffs. The top five teams have already secured a birth in the playoffs, with Quad leading the way at number one yet again.

The surprise of the league is none other than E-bonious-Rex. He is currently in sixth place with a slim 25 point lead over number 7. An E-bone win next week and a number seven loss clinches a playoff berth. If he loses and number 7 wins, he is out. If they both lose or both win, there has to be a 25 point swing against the Boner for him NOT to make it. Personally, I don’t see that happening. I think E-bone is in, sports fans, so please congratulate him while you can! E-Bone! Quad is rooting for you brother!

The thanksgiving holiday has come and gone, and I am still stuffed. Man, I told MQ that I think that was the BEST thanksgiving we have ever had food wise. The only bad thing about that day was that I had to stop eating. Hell, I am still eating leftovers. But hey! That’s part of the tradition, right?

I went striper fishing on Sunday. I caught one 21-inch striper, but a shit load of blue catfish. The storms we had Wednesday and Thursday washed them down to the James River Bridge, so my father-in-law and I had a blast. I’ll tell you this, that was the best damn catfish I think I have ever had. While I was gone, MQ decorated the outside of the house for Christmas. Man, she does such a good job.

Of course, the news of the week for me was the fact that Mal Moore the asshole fired the Alabama football coach after only four years. I didn’t see it coming. I honestly thought he would get one more year, but that his offensive staff would be fired. It wasn’t like the Tide was continuously lighting it up, you know. But, me nor the Tide nation expected this. Expect the unexpected, which is why I think Steve Spurrier from SC will come to Tide Town. Sorry Jake-O, but Spurrier’s ego is 10 times larger than SC. We’ll see.

Until next time.............

2006-11-20T19:09:00.000-08:00

First things first: Where the hell is jake-o? no one has neard from him in a couple of weeks. He didn’t even respond to some brotherhood bantering last week, which is unlike him. I think he might be mad because I mentioned that he liked gum jobs and come to find out he went tdy with a woman whose last name is “gumbs.” Hmmmm. That’s a little too coincidental for Quad.

Well, after 10 weeks of completely dominating my fantasy league, I got my ass handed to me this week by the warthogs. What makes it worse, I share an office with the Warthogs coach. Can you believe that every single one of my starters were on teams that lost this past weekend? And what the hell is up with rex grossman? That bitch has lost his game or something. Anyway…….

Since it looks like the Slackers won again, this will drop me back into second place. The niners lost big as well, which drops them to a 5-way tie for third. E-bone got waxed, as usual. Turns out he got his ass kicked by a GIRL!!!!! Maybe she could have used some of that ass wax on his one eyed, one brow, flying purple people eaters, dudes. Two weeks to go until the playoffs. I have the Krunchers (next to last) next week as a warm up for the Syrens, the devilish woman coached team who is wreaking havoc on the league.

Now on to the real story……

Saturday was one of those rare days when I went shopping with the Mrs. Not that I wanted to, mind you. But they changed the dress code at work (again) so I had to go buy some new shirts, sweaters and pants. Since Penney’s was having a sale, Mrs. Quad (referred to hereafter as MQ) wanted to go there. I am not going into the details, so fast forward to the register.

MQ had these coupons that she could use, along with the big sale. $20 off for purchases over $100, $15 off for purchases over $75 but not over $100, and $10 off on purchases over $50 but not over $75. the next thing I know, MQ has used three $20 coupons and one each of the $15 and $10 ones. So when I added up the savings, we saved almost 50% of our total, to the tune of $409…….so if I saved $409, you can imagine what MQ spent. What turned out to be a quick trip for me to buy some clothes turned into clothes for me, clothes for Pookie, a complete bed set (comforter, shams, etc.) for my daughter, and a new 7.5 foot lighted Christmas tree. Now I know why I don’t like to shop with her: SHE SPENDS MY MONEY!!!!!

So we end up at Sam’s club for something (I can’t remember). I’m walking around while MQ is shopping and I came across this Santa. It’s a beautiful statue that one would place in their home to celebrate the holidays.

So as I stood there admiring Santa, I noticed something: SANTA HAD CAMEL TOES!!!!!! But let me digress for a moment.

Years ago, Hor-Hey and I jumped into my little four cylinder Toyota truck and beat street up to Dover, Delaware one Saturday. It doesn’t matter why we went, but we did. On the way home we stopped somewhere (I think it was McDonald’s) to get something to eat. Needless to say, the woman behind the counter was wearing pants that were two sizes two small for her 300lb body, which left her with extremely massive camel toes, the size of two fists together.

Quad: hey hor-hey. Check out those camel toes.
Hor-hey: where?
Quad: on that woman behind the counter.
Hor-hey: oh shit……….

And he threw up right there, in front of everybody. The projectile vomit bounced off of the counter and splattered the burgers waiting to be served. A clump of it even went into the deep fryer and when they pulled it out, it was a hamburger sized patty of fried puke. I don’t know what was more gross: the camel toes or Hor-hey puking. Which brings me to Santa.

Of all the people you would think would have a huge ONE, it would be Santa. I mean, come on. This guy has been getting away with coming into people’s homes for years. Couple that with having to keep eight reindeer (nine if you count Rudolph) trained and fed year round and you have someone that you would think had the largest schlong and grapefruit sized cahoonas this side of John Wayne in his prime. But nooooooooooo. Whomever came up with the idea of making this Santa took away his dignity by giving him Camel toes.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t go around checking out guy’s packages, whether the guy is a person or a statue…..but this was so noticeable, I am surprised someone hasn’t written a letter to the editor of the Daily Press. So here I stood, in the middle of the holiday spread at Sam’s club, disappointed as hell because they made Santa out to be something he is NOT. I know most of you wouldn’t believe this story, so here is a picture of Santa’s camel toes.

News

2006-11-14T16:27:00.000-08:00

Before I get into this week's blog, i want to give everyone an update on the fantasy football league. while this doesn't interest most folks, it should interest those who have a stake in knowing E-Bone.

Ebone won this week and won big. check this out. it doesn't matter what who he beat or how much. what matters is what his score was: 69 baby. can you dig it? do you think the Bone is trying to lay something on us that we don't know about? hmmmm. how subliminal can one get?

Quad won HUUUUGE over the previously ranked number 1 team, the Master Slackers from the good town of Pittsburgh. Not only did i win, i won by 25 points. even though we both now have 2 losses, i am firmly in first because i have scored more points overall. after 10 weeks, i have scored 1090 or so points. with three weeks to play, however, i have to play two top 6 teams, either of which i could possibly meet in the playoffs. i have secured a spot with a first round bye to the first and second place teams. I am totally into this because I want to REPEAT as champion. Yes, you read that right brothers and sisters. REPEAT. R-E-double P-EAT!!! now, on to this week's blog.

to prepare you, i went to myrtle beach for the weekend. while my wife and everyone went for fun in the sun, i went to look at properties. why? not to buy, dudes. but so i could write the entire weekend off for my business. anyway, here is the chronicled weekend.

Thursday: not much to write about a 6.5 hour drive with your wife and a four year old. After an action packed, fun filled 6 hours at work, the highlight of the trip, other than getting to myrtle beach, was stopping along the way to eat at waffle house. It was funny because here you had waffle house regulars (on a Thursday evening) making fun of the waitress. It was good to see that even though those people didn’t have anything else better to do on a Thursday than to hang out at waffle house, they were, at least, laughing. I love laughing.

Friday: my wife and pookie went swimming while I went to breakfast with my in-laws. Here’s a riddle for you: what has eight tits and 16 teeth? The morning crew at denny’s . this one was no lie. The hostess was missing all four of her front teeth. Here gums shown from fang to fang. Plus, she was only about 4 feet tall. I couldn’t help but think of jake, because he has always told us how much he likes gum jobs. Even though I went fishing, it was a relatively slow, relaxing day. Man, I could use more days like this.

Saturday: we went fishing again in the morning and not even the damn crabs were biting. The blues were running sparodically. This meant that no other fish were around if the blues are there. They are such bullies. After taking a well deserved nap, we went to eat at Crabby Mike’s seafood buffet. Man, was that good. they had raw oysters and I bet I ate 30 of them damn things. While there, I was able to watch the final 5 minutes of the florida/south Carolina game. I was in a quandary. If I am not rooting for Alabama, I am rooting for florida. However, I am a steve spurrier fan and wanted to root for the gamecocks because that’s jake-o’s team. But I just couldn’t overcome the temptation of being a florida fan in the middle of a restaurant filled with south Carolina gamecocks. It, well, brings out the COCK in me. Needless to say, when florida blocked the last kick, I let out a yell showing my enthusiasm that only the Quad could do. I looked around…..no one was left in the bar. That night, I watched Alabama suck ass to LSU. Alabama sucks……

Sunday: we leave fairly early so that we wouldn’t have to travel at night. Everyone but me wanted to stop at krispy kreme for doughnuts before hitting the road. It literally made me sick to my stomach to watch them eat that crap. At one point I did what all men should avoid in a marriage: I mentioned weight.

Ms. Quad: Why are you looking at me like that?
Quad: like what?
MQ: like all disgusted or something
Quad: because I can’t believe you actually can eat that crap.
MQ: oooooo. It’s good……
Quad: well, you know what? Don’t ever mention or complain about your weight again if you are going to eat shit.

All hell then broke loose because I caught it from my wife and my mother-in-law. At one point, my mother-in-law had what she thought was an epiphany when she said, “WE don’t think about weight while we are on vacation!!!!”
What? You mean your body stops gaining weight if you are not at home? Aaaaaahhhh. A profound statement by someone (her) that doesn’t know what she is talking about.

So we hit the road and all is well until later in the afternoon when pookie gets hungry. They all want to stop at waffle house. Fuuuuuuuuuucccckkkkkk…..

Quad: I don’t want to eat at fucking waffle house! That shit is worse than krispy cream.
MQ: it’s not about you…..it’s about pookie liking their eggs.
Quad: two things. 1) it’s not about pookie either. It’s about where your mom wants to eat. 2) waffle house isn’t the only place to get eggs. Besides, we ate there the other night.
MQ: it doesn’t matter.

So we stop at waffle house and everyone orders but me. I wasn’t going to eat that shit. I order pookie a chocolate chip waffle, bacon, and two scrambled eggs. Guess what? He didn’t eat a bit of it except for a little bit of the waffle. So much for him liking their eggs. Anyway, my wife and in-laws couldn’t fathom the fact that I didn’t order anything to eat. So I just sat there and drank my coffee and thought, some days you’re the windshield and some days you’re the bug. I was obviously the bug…….

2006-11-07T20:01:00.000-08:00

You have seen me write several times about the brotherhood. You have read about E-bone, Jake-O, and even Hor-Hey. I have very seldomed mentioned the fifth brother: dickie. So let me fess up now by saying that I haven’t seen dickie in, shit, I don’t know how many years.

Dickie left the BH while in the air force and went to California for several years. Legend has it that upon retirement he moved back to this area and is enjoying his military retirement while working construction. Legend further has it that he recently had a foot race with one of E-bone’s kids and lost his wallet in the doing.

I mention the foot race because dickie was an integral part of one of our softball teams back in the ‘90s. this wasn’t just any ball team. This team won tournaments, partied like rock stars, fought like enemies, but won and won often. Four base championships in 6 years was no fluke, dudes. And dickie was the un-sung man. He pitched, batted left handed and ran the bases like the wind. When I would watch him run, it was like watching those guys in chariots of fire run on water; he seemed to not touch the ground while running, a mirage of floating in effortless motion while everything else slowed to an almost standstill.

So I decided a while back to pack my bags and go on an expedition to find dickie. And I found him. Turns out dickie, while working construction, is very heavily involved in toy making. Yep. You heard me right. I didn’t believe it until I went to the toy store and found toys with dickie’s brand on there. I tried to tell jake and the fellas, but they didn’t believe me. So I did what any good investigator would do. TAKE PICTURES. Here they are: solid proof that dickie is not only alive an well, but is bettering this world by making toys that make kids smile.

The Dickie symbol.

Where do you get YOUR power? I get mine from here.

The Dickie Remote Control.

I wish my boat was a Dickie Sailing boat!

The Dickie Sailing Boat Complete Set

And finally, Dickie Toys, Ladies and Gentlemen!

Super Jiggy E Made Me Sick!!!

2006-11-06T13:31:00.000-08:00

I know it has been a while since I have written, but I am blaming my absence on the Super Jiggy E. you see, I read his blog about how the flu his family had would not go away. The very same night I read that, I got sicker than dog shit, throwing up so hard that I 1) lost my voice due to a swollen throat 2) bruised some ribs because of the ferocity of the heaves.

With that said, I am back on my feet finally and am now battling the cold portion of the flu. I can deal with that. but you can keep the puking. I hate that shit.

Congrats to E-Bone, who finally won a game in our fantasy football league. Not only did he beat one of the better teams, he waxed their ass by 64 + points, and scored the second highest score in the league this year behind, of course, the L-Quad Dudesters. Damn E!!! where did THAT come from?

As for me, I suffered my second defeat, which puts me back into 2nd. The one time that the 1) bears suck and 2) michael vick decides to play like a normal person, it happens this weekend. Considering that I have 1) vick as my quarterback 2) bears kicker 3) bears defense and 4) merrian (from da bears) as WR, I lost by 7.5 points. The game of the week is this week, sportsfans, in week ten. My team, the L-Quad Dudesters, go up against perennial number 1, the Master Slackers, in what could decide the number one seed in the playoffs.

If I beat the master slackers, then we are both tied record wise, but I move into first with more points scored. Even if I lose, I stay in second because of most points scored and still earn a first round bye. This game, my friends, is a prelude the championship game. You heard it here first.

Most of you are not going to believe what I am about to tell you, but I’ll tell you anyway. I’ve started a new company to hold my future real estate investments. To make a long story short, I bid on a 244 unit apartment complex this past Friday to the tune of 6.3 million. Do I have that kind of money? Hell no. but I know where to get it. I found out today that I am in the final 4, so we’ll see. I don’t know if I’ll get it even if I win the bid because we (my team and i) will be asking close to 250,000 dollars in rebates to help convert the current boiler heating system and window AC’s to central air. Not sure if they’ll take that, but hey………the worst thing they can do is say no and we move on to the next deal.

It looks like I will be making an offer on a fully occupied five tenant strip mall in Chesapeake. Asking price is 7.3 mill, with 4.3 down and the assumption of a loan at 7.7%, amortized over 30 years, but due in 3. here’s the kicker, dudes. Instead of assuming the loan, I can get the loan defeased (thrown out) to the tune of 730K, depending on the day and interest rates. What that means is I can pay the down payment, and pay 730K or so to have the loan released and the property released as collateral.

So I finance 80% of the asking price of 7.3 mil, which is 5.84 mil. Pay the 4.3 mil DP, plus the 730K defeasement fee for a total of 5,030,000. subtract that from the original loan amount of 5.84, and Quad walks away with 810,000 cash, tax free (debt isn’t taxable). After all that, the property will still cash flow to the tune of around 6K per month, with every tenant in for long term leases (5 years or more). That’s what I am talking about.

So that is what Quad has been up to since his sickness. Hang in there, folks. There’s more to come.

Russian Race Horses: E-bone's Response

2006-10-24T15:07:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-24T05:57:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-23T18:36:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-18T21:30:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-18T19:00:00.000-07:00

“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

2006-10-17T15:43:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-16T20:46:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-16T09:30:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-12T19:45:00.000-07:00

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