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Thursday, October 25, 2007

I was with Arsenal from the get-go.

2007/08 English Premiership - Outright
Arsenal Open 10.00
Bet Type: Straight bet on above selections Bet Price: 10.00

Bet Amount: $ 30.00

Bet Payout: $ 300.00
Time Placed: August 9, 2007 8:11 PM

Arsenal will not lose Sunday. They may draw, but they will not lose.

So what to do?
If you are an Arsenal fan: Make two separate wagers. Wager #1: bet on Arsenal to win for some amount of money. Wager #2: bet on arsenal to draw for some amount that will make the day a push.

If you are an Arsenal hater: Do the opposite, and ENJOY YOUR PUSH!

Reader: I'm going to London for five days of irreparable damage to my credit cards next Thursday. I will be at the Arsenal/Manchester United match and will file reports before and after.


Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Deadbeat Dad's Here!

Lots going on, just not up here, so I apologize if you are a troubled soul who occasionally visits this neglected bastard child of mine in search of entertainment. This thing came about because personal email access was taken away from me about a year ago and like a good Chachki's waiter, I felt a need to express myself. Well, for whatever reason, the computer monsters down in the basement have restored access to my email site. I'm convinced that prisoners in solitary confinement should all try to be writers. There's so much upside -- even if you don't know how to write in any language. You could do the modern prisoner equivalent of cave drawerings, depicting thoughts and acts. If you are in for stalking a female celebrity, you could write about or draw pictures of you stalking that person, or just masturbating to the thought of stalking that person. You just have to ask for a pen and paper. If you're a risk to your own safety or the safety to someone else (and who isn't), maybe you will just get a crayon, but that's just as good -- especially if you get one of those 96-packs that have the built in sharpener on the bottom of the box. Anyone know why crayons are sold in multiples of 12? I sure don't.

So that's one reason things haven't been happening. The other main problem is that I am in a busy season at work. I know, everyone is. Fine, I guess I'm not man enough for this much work and screwing around all in the same day. Administrative aspects of my job are really pissing me off and I may end up taking a different job soon, one that will surely provide far less bullshit time for me to type away mindlessly like this. But I'm waiting for someone to get back to me on this one thing, and decided to declare 11:30 - noon today JERKOFF TIME. So enjoy, hopefully you will find this to be a satisfying pearl necklace of a post instead of a disappointing dribble-down-the-shaft'er.

I realized the other day that it's almost been a whole year for checkoutmyhemi. The first post went up on October 31st of 2006. As is required by Google, the goons in charge of blogger, I will put some sort of "favorites" tag together soon, which will tell you, reader, which posts I gave myself an extra-hard congratulatory pat on the ass for.

Damn it, I still have nine more minutes until JERKOFF TIME is over. What did they call this exercise in English class? free writing?

The other day my motorcycle started losing power on the George Washington parkway, just across the Potomac River from Washington, DC. It felt like I was running out of gas. "Fuck!", I thought. Luckily, I was near a scenic overlook parking area and pulled in to check it out. I was certainly low on fuel, but not empty. Maybe a spark plug problem? I had no fucking idea. I called my friend Joe, who picked me up. I left the damn bike in the parking lot. The next day I had it towed to a service center, which cost me $143. I received a message on my phone from the guy at the shop the next day for me to call him, so I did. "You ran out of gas." "FUCK!", I thought. I told him to rebuild the left carb since it was at the shop. When I picked it up yesterday I was pleased to find out that the bike did, in fact, have something wrong so I didn't feel so bad.

JERKOFF TIME is now over. The picture at the top, by the way, is my fantasy basketball logo. Toodles!


Wednesday, October 03, 2007

F*ck You, Santa.

Do you like writing on graph paper? I sure do. I would have done every math problem I've ever done in my life on the stuff if it had always been around. Somehow there was always a shortage of graph paper, perhaps because I never bought it. In college I got most of my paper from the printers at the job I had. Fuck spending money in college on things that won't get you wasted in some way. The only paper I probably bought was "triple-dipped".

start digression

I have never understood how "triple-dipped" is better than "single-dipped". Let's say you take a cracker and dip it into a salt solution. Then you let it dry. Then you dip it back into salt solution again. As the cracker gets wet (notice I didn't say moist -- moist is for cake and panties only, and a cracker most certainly is neither cake nor panties), the salt absorbed in the cracker joins the salt in the water and the whole thing ends up with the same uniform salt level it did before. Multi-dips are great if you're at Dairy Queen though.
end digression

Back in high school I would score some graph paper sometimes, mostly from my dad who was also fond of writing business notes on the sweet grid lines. My mom didn't seem to seek it out when making school supply purchases. This is why, as painful as it sounds, you have to go to the store with your mom when these purchases are being made if you're a non-dropout K-12 mofo.

While graph paper is obviously a great thing for making plots with the good old Cartesian coordinate system, but its utility goes way beyond the math world. Let's say you have to make a speech or are just making notes on an event you observed. Writing those notes on graph paper make me feel more intelligent and organized than normal, which is nice.

So to handle my feelings about the Detroit Lions in an intelligent and organized manner, I've created some virtual graph paper and wrote down some of my thoughts about the team. And I'll tell you, I feel better.

This past Sunday the 'ship and I witnessed an incredible beat-down of the Lions by the Redskins in Landover, MD. 34-3. We haven't had much luck this year. Back in September we both flew to see Michigan get crushed by Oregon. 39-7 or something like that. It's hard to say which game sucked more, and it doesn't really matter anyway.

Sunday started out with deranged optimism that somehow the Lions would end the 0-20 road losing streak against the 'skins. The blue line train had several fans of the Honolulu blue boys, and we talked about how the Lions might have a shot, and how we couldn't wait to start drinking. One Lions fan I met was from North Carolina, which I found to be peculiar, so I asked what his story was.
"When I was a little kid growing up in Carolina, they didn't have the Panthers, so everyone rooted for the Redskins, since they were the closest team. One Christmas I asked for a Redskins jersey, but Santa didn't bring me one. I was crushed, so they took me to JC Penny to get one. When we got there, it was right after Christmas and they had sold out of everything but Lions jerseys, so that's what I got. A Billy Simms jersey. You can't have a jersey when you're a little kid and then just switch to a different team, so I've been a Lions fan ever since."
This is the single greatest hard-luck Detroit Lions story I've ever heard. The poor guy had driven up from the Outer Banks with his buddy, spent money on a hotel room in downtown DC, probably spent close to $100 on the ticket to the game, and now was on the train to get his spirits crushed. Poor fucker. So if you're a Lions fan out there, and you're feeling pissed off about being stuck with them, at least you can understand why they're your team since you're almost surely from Michigan. Be thankful that you're not cursing Santa when Kitna throws his next interception.

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Monday, October 01, 2007

Justice Served

eyes wide apart

Fuck you, Philadelphia Eagles. A week after you decide to play some football against my Lions, ending their chance to piss on the '72 Dolphins perfect season, you get double-fisted by a defense that allowed a total of 97 points over three games. Three goddamn points. When Winston Justice wasn't letting Osi Umenyiora blow by him, he was taking two steps back before the snap and getting called for it. Despite this pathetic display, the Eagles coaching staff seemed to be blind to Justice getting served. No replacement for him on the left end, no tight end or running back lining up to help out. Andy Reid, don't you understand that I'm trying to feed my family? Why are you so against families having enough cash for getting basic nutrition?

The same goes for you, Steelers. If you're going to go out there and play football with the same kind of off-kilter rhythm that members of your bumbling fan base employ to pleasure their significant others, why wouldn't you give a hint to the gambling community during the first three games that you had a bed-shitting of that magnitude in you for yesterday? How could one player make so much of a difference on defense as Polamalu? When he left the game, the steel curtain turned to beef.

NFL betting can be a natural, zesty enterprise. Sometimes, however, it chaps one's ass to the point where even a Sunday with a 34 point fourth quarter by the team you cheer for can't wash away the feeling of loss. Maybe it's time to quit. I started betting on the NFL to help take my focus off of the boring, shitty Lions. Now the Lions, while still prone to embarrassing losses like last week, are one of the most exciting teams in the league. There is no reason for wasting money on teams like the Eagles, who looked as bad last night as the Lions at their absolute worst points of the Millenium.

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