The Sweet Smell of Success

So the Philadelphia Phillies won the World Series last night, ending a 25-year "curse" where no sports franchise in the city has won a championship. And, just like other upstanding cities like Boston, the city celebrated by rioting.

I was living in Boston at the time, and remember the riots of 2003. The city rioted twice that year: once for the Patriots winning Superbowl XXXVIII, and once for the Red Sox falling just short of the World Series, losing to the Yankees in 7 games in the ALCS. Of course, in 2004, after the Red Sox stunned the Yanks in 7 games to take the pennant, rioting caused one girl to lose her life.

I'll never understand the mentality of someone who feels the need to cause violence and havoc out of joy, but I think I know at least one factor that prompts them: alcohol. Homer Simpson said it best: "To alcohol! The cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems."

I don't know about you, but when I drink, I don't get violent—I get tired. Drinking beer makes me happy and sleepy, and possibly a little dopey.

My roommate freshman year at BU participated in the riots in Kenmore Square. He told me he helped flip over a car. They then proceeded to light it on fire, but he said he had nothing to do with that. He said it was a lot of fun. I told him that was wonderful, and we did a shot of Jaegermeister.

It takes a very special type of person to find fun in flipping an innocent person's car for no reason. He was a wrestler, Greco-Roman style. He used to come home and show me his latest ringworm, which he got from rolling around in a one-piece on a sweat-soaked mat. The little ring-shaped bulge in his shoulder, or chest, or back looked pretty cool, but I can't imagine it was very healthy.

Friends of his got him a gallon of ultra-cheap Russian vodka for his birthday. I took a shot—it tasted like rubbing alcohol. So instead of joining him for more, I watched as he drank himself into a stupor in our room just for the fun of it. Then we watched The Big Lebowski.

My fondest memory of him came one night as he was returning from a party with his girlfriend. I can't remember if my girlfriend at the time was over or not, but that's irrelevant. Both of them were stupid drunk, but ready to go. I was asleep, but woke up when they walked in and drunkenly turned the light on. I didn't move, and they shut it immediately, so they thought I was still asleep. It wasn't long until I heard moaning, very faint at first, but mounting steadily. Then, "Oohh your dick feels so long and hard inside me!" Followed closely behind by, "sshhhhh!" "Harder! Harder! Faster! Faster!" "SSSHHHH! Shut up!" I stuffed my face into my pillow to stifle the laughter. I couldn't see them, but damn his girlfriend sounded just like a porn star. I never told him about what I heard that night, but the memory will stay with me forever.

Oh yeah, he also peed into bottles and kept them under his desk, because sometimes the bathroom is just too far away. Good times.

Signatures and pulses.

This was in the signature of an e-mail I received today at work:

"The contents of this e-mail message may be privileged and confidential. Therefore, if this message has been received in error, please delete it without reading it. Your receipt of this message is not intended to waive any applicable privilege. Please do not disseminate this message without the permission of the author."

That seems silly, especially because it was at the bottom of the e-mail, in small type, in the same color as the rest of the e-mail. Essentially unremarkable in any way. There is nothing about the message that would draw your eye to it without first reading the body of the e-mail. How is this supposed to be effective? By the time I read it, I will have already gone through the entire e-mail, and I'll be damned if you think you're going to get me to forget what the e-mail said by using some sort of neural disruptor or pulse emanating from the screen in a steady stream of blinking, multi-colored lights... green... blue... green... blue... green... ooh yellow...

What was I saying? Oh yeah, bacon!

Annoyances

The phrase is "For all INTENTS AND PURPOSES," not "For all intensive purposes!"

My friends, this is an egregious error. My friends, you are all my heroes, and we are all friendly. You know who isn't friendly? That one.

The debate was a farce. This election is over. Sarah Palin was the best thing to ever happen to Barack Obama.

By the way, I didn't hear either candidate say that phrase incorrectly, I just read it on someone's blog, who was discussing it. It's one of those errors like Statue vs. Statute of Limitations, or improper usage of Their/There/They're, To/Too/Two, and Your/You're that is just unforgivable. Once I can disregard as a typo, but continual improper usage really irks me.

Anyway, I'm not a Grammar Nazi, but the Copy Editing class I'm taking may turn me into one. Damned if I knew before 2 weeks ago what a "dangling participle" was.

Time to go eat myself into a coma, to prepare for the Fast. Goodbye for now, my friends.

#1

I've been meaning to start a new blog for a while now. I haven't posted to my old Livejournal account in a while, but hopefully I'll be better about keeping up with this.

Rosh Hashana just ended, so the new year of 5769 seems like a great time to start blogging again. Call it my Jewish New Year's Resolution.

Hopefully my musings will be entertaining or enlightening in some way. I'll just post random things that pop up in my head, until I can figure out a direction for this thing to go.

Right now, I think I'll continue building my new wardrobe while watching the season premiere of Life. See you soon!

-- (Dr. B)allon