Whoops. I almost forgot about following up with this post.
On Saturday morning, I called up Deb the pet psychic. The consultation did not start off well. She forgot I had an appointment with her. Psych! She totally remembered.
So the first thing she did was “channel” into Cheese’s head to hear his thoughts. My guess was that he was thinking about biscuits. But I was wrong. According to Deb, he was worried that we were going to abandon him after the wedding. She then took a few minutes to tell Cheese telepathically that everything was going to be fine.
Then I told her about the blender problem and some other behavioral stuff. Deb again talked to Cheese and then assured me he wasn’t going to act like a doofus anymore when we make smoothies.
Deb then channeled out of Cheese and channeled into Skits. This took several minutes. She said Skits was never going to get along with Cheese because she feels she is like an English nanny and that it is her job to administer discipline to all those who dwell in the household, including Jess and me. I thought to myself, yep, that sounds about right, actually.
I told Deb to tell Skits to stop pissing on Cheese’s bed and to like me more and she said ok, no problem.
The results? About an hour later, if that, Cheese goes berserker on me when I attempted to unload the dishwasher. Good job, Deb.
But I will say this, Skits has not whizzed on Cheese’s bed since. AND, out of nowhere, she started sleeping on my side of the bed for some reason. Did I mention I was allergic to cats? I just wanted her to stop hissing at me, this was too much. Dammit, Deb, you’ve screwed me again.
But seriously, even though there was a lot of nonsense, Deb was a very sweet woman and you could tell she legitimately loves animals and really wanted to help me. She did give me some good, non-magical advice too. I’m going to stop making fun of her now in case she finds about this blog and places a hex on me.
Speaking of loving animals, I hope I kill a deer this weekend! Wish me luck!
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
The Dog Whisperer
About a year ago, I went to this benefit auction thing and I made a silent bid on a basket of dog stuff like treats and toys and things like that. I made the minimum bid of $25 and I won. Sweet.
It also included a free one-hour session with a dog psychic. BONUS.
Ok, technically it’s called Reiki Energy Healing. The brochure states that it is a non-invasive energy system that yields powerful results in the body, mind, and spirit. Call it what you want, I’m just hoping this lady can get Cheese to stop spazzing out whenever we try to use the blender.
I’ve been sitting on this coupon for over a year, but seriously, this blender situation is getting out of hand. I called the psychic up tonight and set up an appointment for later this weekend.
I asked where we should meet but she said it wouldn’t be necessary because she would be able to communicate with Cheese telepathically over the phone. Talk about efficiency!
My only concern is that the Reiki Energy Healing purportedly works better over a landline phone and we don’t have one. If the Reiki doesn’t work, it will probably be because of that.
I gotta tell ya, I’m getting pretty excited about this. I had to send the psychic some pics and some background info on Cheese tonight so she could prepare. She also requested I send a picture of Skits, Jess’s cat.
Presumably, if we can bang this blender problem out under an hour, we might be able to tackle this other situation on our hands. I’m referring of course to Skits and her love of constantly peeing in the middle of Cheese’s bed at inopportune times. I don’t know though…I don’t know if there’ll be enough time.
It also included a free one-hour session with a dog psychic. BONUS.
Ok, technically it’s called Reiki Energy Healing. The brochure states that it is a non-invasive energy system that yields powerful results in the body, mind, and spirit. Call it what you want, I’m just hoping this lady can get Cheese to stop spazzing out whenever we try to use the blender.
I’ve been sitting on this coupon for over a year, but seriously, this blender situation is getting out of hand. I called the psychic up tonight and set up an appointment for later this weekend.
I asked where we should meet but she said it wouldn’t be necessary because she would be able to communicate with Cheese telepathically over the phone. Talk about efficiency!
My only concern is that the Reiki Energy Healing purportedly works better over a landline phone and we don’t have one. If the Reiki doesn’t work, it will probably be because of that.
I gotta tell ya, I’m getting pretty excited about this. I had to send the psychic some pics and some background info on Cheese tonight so she could prepare. She also requested I send a picture of Skits, Jess’s cat.
Presumably, if we can bang this blender problem out under an hour, we might be able to tackle this other situation on our hands. I’m referring of course to Skits and her love of constantly peeing in the middle of Cheese’s bed at inopportune times. I don’t know though…I don’t know if there’ll be enough time.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Hey Oh
Sorry this was locked before, Brain Litter was on hiatus due to me looking and finding a new job and I didn't want to get googled and have a potential employers mind blowned and somehow miss out on an opportunity. I'll try to update soon.
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
Green Bay Fireworks Bingo
Really, Green Bay?
I know it’s hot outside but we can do better than this. We are a Super Bowl Champion town, let’s start acting like it.
Here's a fun game to play at the Green Bay fireworks until we get our shit together. It’s Bingo and you know the rules. I know this seems pretentious but it truly was yahoo central last night at the annual downtown Green Bay fireworks festival. Somebody needs to make fun of the situation and that someone is me.
I know it’s hot outside but we can do better than this. We are a Super Bowl Champion town, let’s start acting like it.
Here's a fun game to play at the Green Bay fireworks until we get our shit together. It’s Bingo and you know the rules. I know this seems pretentious but it truly was yahoo central last night at the annual downtown Green Bay fireworks festival. Somebody needs to make fun of the situation and that someone is me.
Monday, June 06, 2011
You Win, MTV, You Win
Jess and some of my closest friends like to tease me that I’m an old man. Sometimes they call me Old Man Wollin in jest. And I always shrugged it off.
I’m sorry but getting excited about installing a new radon mitigation system in the basement does not make me an old man. It makes me prudent and .005% less likely to get cancer some day, but it doesn’t make me an old man. Ditto for getting excited about shirtless lawn-mowing. That’s just the way God intended lawns to be mowed.
But the angering up of my blood from the 2011 MTV Movie Awards might be compelling evidence to support the Old Man Wollin moniker.
Let me clear upfront that I did not watch one second of the actual award show last night. I just read the recap this morning but it was enough to get me reeling to the point where I had to vent on Brain Litter today.
Nominees
Winners
If I was a 12 year girl with a Robert Patterson poster above my bed, I would still feel like my intelligence was insulted. The Twilight series, arguably the worst thing committed to celluloid since the medium was invented, received a staggering five awards including best picture in a field that included Inception and Social Network.
My actual beef though is not from Twilight winning this year but the fact that it wins EVERY year. I did a little research and basically, the other Twilight travesties won the same categories in 2009 and 2010. At what point does one scratch their head and wonder if maybe, just maybe, this is just a stupid beauty pageant and not a good way to spend 2 hours of my time?
And one also has to wonder if Justin Bieber really had the most jaw dropping moment, from a quasi-documentary without a plot to substantiate audience suspense, or if MTV just invented the category and victory so a Bieber presence would boost their ratings. Hmmmmmm.
Again, I don’t hate the youth of today. Why, just yesterday, I saw some teenager with both a mohawk and a rattail at Ashwaubemay and I didn’t think to myself that this kid sort of looks like an asshole. No, I just smiled and thought to myself, shine on, you crazy diamond.
But I guess hating MTV would put me in the old man camp so I guess I’m an old man now. I’ll take the History Channel over MTV any day of the week.
FYI watching the History Channel doesn’t make me an old either. World War II was cool beans and I would go on a date with that dude that shows up on Pawn Stars every week that knows everything about medieval weaponry and antique guns than Taylor Lautner in a heartbeat.
I’m sorry but getting excited about installing a new radon mitigation system in the basement does not make me an old man. It makes me prudent and .005% less likely to get cancer some day, but it doesn’t make me an old man. Ditto for getting excited about shirtless lawn-mowing. That’s just the way God intended lawns to be mowed.
But the angering up of my blood from the 2011 MTV Movie Awards might be compelling evidence to support the Old Man Wollin moniker.
Let me clear upfront that I did not watch one second of the actual award show last night. I just read the recap this morning but it was enough to get me reeling to the point where I had to vent on Brain Litter today.
Nominees
Winners
If I was a 12 year girl with a Robert Patterson poster above my bed, I would still feel like my intelligence was insulted. The Twilight series, arguably the worst thing committed to celluloid since the medium was invented, received a staggering five awards including best picture in a field that included Inception and Social Network.
My actual beef though is not from Twilight winning this year but the fact that it wins EVERY year. I did a little research and basically, the other Twilight travesties won the same categories in 2009 and 2010. At what point does one scratch their head and wonder if maybe, just maybe, this is just a stupid beauty pageant and not a good way to spend 2 hours of my time?
And one also has to wonder if Justin Bieber really had the most jaw dropping moment, from a quasi-documentary without a plot to substantiate audience suspense, or if MTV just invented the category and victory so a Bieber presence would boost their ratings. Hmmmmmm.
Again, I don’t hate the youth of today. Why, just yesterday, I saw some teenager with both a mohawk and a rattail at Ashwaubemay and I didn’t think to myself that this kid sort of looks like an asshole. No, I just smiled and thought to myself, shine on, you crazy diamond.
But I guess hating MTV would put me in the old man camp so I guess I’m an old man now. I’ll take the History Channel over MTV any day of the week.
FYI watching the History Channel doesn’t make me an old either. World War II was cool beans and I would go on a date with that dude that shows up on Pawn Stars every week that knows everything about medieval weaponry and antique guns than Taylor Lautner in a heartbeat.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Note To Self: Use Your Recorder More
I was digging through my junk drawer the other day and stumbled upon a voice recorder that I bought about four years ago. This is especially poignant since Norm MacDonald, the inventor of the note-to-self bit…classic, recently started hosting a new show on Comedy Central.
Which is great by the way, any show that utilizes the throwaway line, “Ping Pong is the only sport named after its inventor”, is aces with me.
Anyways, I remember purchasing this voice recorder years back because I was always coming up with hilarious blog topics and jokes in the most inopportune places and I needed a system to keep track of them all. But like everything else I embark on, it seems sweet and life-changing at first but then I revert back to my old ways because…well…eh.
So I started going through my old recordings. The very first recording was “Extra! Extra! Joe Smells!”, which is strange because I bought the device to record new information. I already knew that.
The next three recordings were ideas I had about a potential Brett Favre retirement sympathy card idea. WHICH WOULD HAVE WORKED. That idea was worth tens possibly hundreds of dollars. I had this brilliant scheme to come up with a line of sympathy cards to express your condolences to fellow Packer fans when Brett Favre inevitably retired back in 2008. Hindsight is 20/20, my friends.
Go back to early 2008 and that’s still a good idea. The problem was my creative copy. My third recording was “Sorry for your loss, he will be four-ever in our hearts”. Uh, terrible. I sounded really smug on the recording too, like I was the first person to ever use four-ever in some capacity. I’m embarrassed for myself.
On a side note, I did perfect that card eventually. The card cover: a guy wearing a Brett Favre jersey sitting on a card table chair in the middle of his garage, his head buried in his lap in frustration, a dozen crushed Miller High-Life cans strewn about his feet. The card inside: blank.
The front cover says it all. Simple. Perfect. Admit it, you would have bought that for your dad or uncle or buddy if Favre retired when he should have. And I could be on a beach somewhere with my big payday. Ashwaubemay beach most likely, but still, the beach.
I had two other recordings for blog ideas that I actually followed through with so I guess the recorder paid off. The last recording was “email Grandma”. That reminds me, I should probably email my Grandma.
I think I’m going to start using the recorder again. I still come up with great ideas all the time, maybe this time around I’ll consistently follow up with them.
I already recorded a new idea today. Maybe I’ll follow up with it soon. Or maybe four years from now. I hope “Dave Weisnicht + Mike Hubert = Tosh.0” is still relevant in 2015.
Which is great by the way, any show that utilizes the throwaway line, “Ping Pong is the only sport named after its inventor”, is aces with me.
Anyways, I remember purchasing this voice recorder years back because I was always coming up with hilarious blog topics and jokes in the most inopportune places and I needed a system to keep track of them all. But like everything else I embark on, it seems sweet and life-changing at first but then I revert back to my old ways because…well…eh.
So I started going through my old recordings. The very first recording was “Extra! Extra! Joe Smells!”, which is strange because I bought the device to record new information. I already knew that.
The next three recordings were ideas I had about a potential Brett Favre retirement sympathy card idea. WHICH WOULD HAVE WORKED. That idea was worth tens possibly hundreds of dollars. I had this brilliant scheme to come up with a line of sympathy cards to express your condolences to fellow Packer fans when Brett Favre inevitably retired back in 2008. Hindsight is 20/20, my friends.
Go back to early 2008 and that’s still a good idea. The problem was my creative copy. My third recording was “Sorry for your loss, he will be four-ever in our hearts”. Uh, terrible. I sounded really smug on the recording too, like I was the first person to ever use four-ever in some capacity. I’m embarrassed for myself.
On a side note, I did perfect that card eventually. The card cover: a guy wearing a Brett Favre jersey sitting on a card table chair in the middle of his garage, his head buried in his lap in frustration, a dozen crushed Miller High-Life cans strewn about his feet. The card inside: blank.
The front cover says it all. Simple. Perfect. Admit it, you would have bought that for your dad or uncle or buddy if Favre retired when he should have. And I could be on a beach somewhere with my big payday. Ashwaubemay beach most likely, but still, the beach.
I had two other recordings for blog ideas that I actually followed through with so I guess the recorder paid off. The last recording was “email Grandma”. That reminds me, I should probably email my Grandma.
I think I’m going to start using the recorder again. I still come up with great ideas all the time, maybe this time around I’ll consistently follow up with them.
I already recorded a new idea today. Maybe I’ll follow up with it soon. Or maybe four years from now. I hope “Dave Weisnicht + Mike Hubert = Tosh.0” is still relevant in 2015.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Holy Shit I’m Engaged To Jessica MacGregor!
Wait!? What!?
This isn’t Wednesday at noon. This is not a drill. Yup. You heard right. I’m engaged to the very lovely and beautiful Jessica MacGregor.
If you think about it, this really shouldn’t be a surprise. I’ve always been attracted to really cute little brunettes. That went to Ashwaubenon High School. That were in my grade. Named Jessica. What can I say, I have a type.
I’m really excited about it. Jess is too. Surprisingly, buying the ring was one of the easiest decisions I ever made. I’m the type of person that normally gets buyer’s remorse from buying a pack of gum but this was a no-brainer. I didn’t even have to administer the dutch oven method, that’s how confident I was.
I’m kidding, I had a 99 cent Swanson microwave enchilada dinner waiting for me in the freezer just in case she hesitated. I’ve been told that being waterboarded is preferable to hanging out with me after eating one of those bad boys. Trapped under the covers, I imagine she would have agreed to marry me plus called permanent chore duty forever. But that’s not what this is about.
My proposal was pretty simple. I surprised her when she came home from North Dakota this weekend. I bought some roses, lit some candles, took a shower, it was all very quaint and romantic. I was thrilled when she said yes.
I considered proposing to her via the blog but that’s almost TOO romantic. I need to save some of that heat for the Honeymoon.
So now we have some serious planning for next summer but it’s all very exciting. More to come as Jess and I take the plunge together. Wish us luck!
This isn’t Wednesday at noon. This is not a drill. Yup. You heard right. I’m engaged to the very lovely and beautiful Jessica MacGregor.
If you think about it, this really shouldn’t be a surprise. I’ve always been attracted to really cute little brunettes. That went to Ashwaubenon High School. That were in my grade. Named Jessica. What can I say, I have a type.
I’m really excited about it. Jess is too. Surprisingly, buying the ring was one of the easiest decisions I ever made. I’m the type of person that normally gets buyer’s remorse from buying a pack of gum but this was a no-brainer. I didn’t even have to administer the dutch oven method, that’s how confident I was.
I’m kidding, I had a 99 cent Swanson microwave enchilada dinner waiting for me in the freezer just in case she hesitated. I’ve been told that being waterboarded is preferable to hanging out with me after eating one of those bad boys. Trapped under the covers, I imagine she would have agreed to marry me plus called permanent chore duty forever. But that’s not what this is about.
My proposal was pretty simple. I surprised her when she came home from North Dakota this weekend. I bought some roses, lit some candles, took a shower, it was all very quaint and romantic. I was thrilled when she said yes.
I considered proposing to her via the blog but that’s almost TOO romantic. I need to save some of that heat for the Honeymoon.
So now we have some serious planning for next summer but it’s all very exciting. More to come as Jess and I take the plunge together. Wish us luck!
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Dr. Mario and America
When Jess moved in with me, she also brought a Wii with her, which was admittedly a huge selling point for me. She’s the best and I love her and everything but…you know…free Wii.
I was recently dabbling with the shop channel the other day and discovered a new wi-fi version of Dr. Mario. Best 10 bucks I ever spent. Usually, when I’m bored, I’ll crank out a post here on Brain Litter or find another way to contribute to society, but lately, I’ve just been killing viruses blue, red, and yellow style.
Since I’m playing human opponents online, that usually involves killing viruses at a slower rate than some Chinese guy named insert wacky Chinese letters here. Yep, that’s a new stereotype and you heard it here first: Chinese people are awesome at Dr. Mario.
Despite amassing heavy losses to our Asian friends, I have yet to kick this crippling addiction, and that is despite the fact that the version is flawed and could be better.
I can tell you at least five things that are wrong with the “new and improved” Dr. Mario on Wii which is also an explanation for what’s wrong with America today.
1.) Your online profile only keeps track of wins, not losses. Our generation was raised to think that we would all be winners, that’s why we all got trophies for playing soccer just for showing up. But you can’t have winners without losers. Losing is a part of life, it builds character. This coddling nonsense has to stop.
2.) Not only does it not keep track of losses, but the win counts stops at 9,999. Didn’t we learn this lesson from the millennium bug? What a total lack of foresight.
3.) Instead of pressing down to speed up the virus killing process you can now also press up to have the pill instantly drop to the bottom. Are we so impatient and is our time so valuable because we’re sitting around playing Dr. Mario that we can’t wait an extra .5 seconds for the pill to drop regularly. Patience is a virtue.
4.) They added a feature where the pill shows up semi-transparent at the bottom of the screen based on its current trajectory. Thanks Shigeru Miyamoto, I already love having my hand held like a big baby for not showing my losses.
5.) Velco Fly by ZZ Top is still not a selectable song to pick besides Fever and Chill. Unbelievable.
But like I said, it’s still Dr. Mario so it still kicks ass. I can still beat the butts off most Americans and Europeans as well. If you get this version and are up against Ben Dude, be afraid, be very afraid.
I was recently dabbling with the shop channel the other day and discovered a new wi-fi version of Dr. Mario. Best 10 bucks I ever spent. Usually, when I’m bored, I’ll crank out a post here on Brain Litter or find another way to contribute to society, but lately, I’ve just been killing viruses blue, red, and yellow style.
Since I’m playing human opponents online, that usually involves killing viruses at a slower rate than some Chinese guy named insert wacky Chinese letters here. Yep, that’s a new stereotype and you heard it here first: Chinese people are awesome at Dr. Mario.
Despite amassing heavy losses to our Asian friends, I have yet to kick this crippling addiction, and that is despite the fact that the version is flawed and could be better.
I can tell you at least five things that are wrong with the “new and improved” Dr. Mario on Wii which is also an explanation for what’s wrong with America today.
1.) Your online profile only keeps track of wins, not losses. Our generation was raised to think that we would all be winners, that’s why we all got trophies for playing soccer just for showing up. But you can’t have winners without losers. Losing is a part of life, it builds character. This coddling nonsense has to stop.
2.) Not only does it not keep track of losses, but the win counts stops at 9,999. Didn’t we learn this lesson from the millennium bug? What a total lack of foresight.
3.) Instead of pressing down to speed up the virus killing process you can now also press up to have the pill instantly drop to the bottom. Are we so impatient and is our time so valuable because we’re sitting around playing Dr. Mario that we can’t wait an extra .5 seconds for the pill to drop regularly. Patience is a virtue.
4.) They added a feature where the pill shows up semi-transparent at the bottom of the screen based on its current trajectory. Thanks Shigeru Miyamoto, I already love having my hand held like a big baby for not showing my losses.
5.) Velco Fly by ZZ Top is still not a selectable song to pick besides Fever and Chill. Unbelievable.
But like I said, it’s still Dr. Mario so it still kicks ass. I can still beat the butts off most Americans and Europeans as well. If you get this version and are up against Ben Dude, be afraid, be very afraid.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Chicks: Why Are You Always Doing Laundry?
My mom just informed me that my aunts and grandma are coming over on Sunday after dinner to take a look at my new place. Normally, I wouldn’t care but as you probably all know, Jess has moved in with me last February. I just assume keep a "don’t ask don’t tell" policy in regards to living in sin but it looks like the cat is going to escape from the bag this weekend. On Easter. Great.
That’s bad news for me but good news for my blog readers because now that I got nothing to hide, I can start dishing about all the goofy stuff chicks do compared to dudes. Like excessive laundry.
What is the deal with the laundry, ladies? Based on the laundry usage in our household, I suspect that Jess can’t wear an outfit for more than half a day before it is considered too soiled to wear in public. Barring a half day worn shirt, there’s always a blanket or a towel or some random coat needing to be washed right away.
Only got one or two things that are dirty? That’s OK, you don’t need to wait to do a whole load. Girls LOVE running the washing machine for just a couple of things or less. It’s their specialty.
I wish I was being sarcastic but last night, Cheese breathed on Jess’s shirt and she told me the shirt was unsalvageable and needed to be, you guessed it, washed right away. In her defense, Cheese does have really bad breath, but still.
And I’m not just picking on Jess. I won’t name names but one time in Madison, I was living with Joe Daniels and this other girl and their dog Hercules and this girl constantly did laundry too. I know because she would often do laundry in the middle of the night and my bedroom was next to the utility room. My favorite was when it was jeans cleaning day or in my case, jeans cleaning night. I find the sound of metal buttons on dryer cylinders soothing.
I admit this is some low hanging fruit I’m picking here. I wish Jess had some goofier habits or she tried to change who I am fundamentally with hilarious consequences once she moved in but the transition has been very smooth and the cramping of my swinging bachelor pad lifestyle has been minimal so far.
In fact, the feminizing of my place has been so minimal, I could probably jam the really girly things in a closet on Saturday and continue the ruse with my family that if I got hit by a bus tomorrow, I would still go to heaven.
But then I wouldn’t have anything to blog about and I really wanted to post this picture I found in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.
Kintzler is giving Lucroy a textbook high five – Van Lieshout style. A Van Lieshout style high five is when you act like you’re going to give someone a real high five but then you creepily, gently rub the other person’s palm with the tips of your clammy fingers until the other person is grossed out and can’t handle it any more.
That’s bad news for me but good news for my blog readers because now that I got nothing to hide, I can start dishing about all the goofy stuff chicks do compared to dudes. Like excessive laundry.
What is the deal with the laundry, ladies? Based on the laundry usage in our household, I suspect that Jess can’t wear an outfit for more than half a day before it is considered too soiled to wear in public. Barring a half day worn shirt, there’s always a blanket or a towel or some random coat needing to be washed right away.
Only got one or two things that are dirty? That’s OK, you don’t need to wait to do a whole load. Girls LOVE running the washing machine for just a couple of things or less. It’s their specialty.
I wish I was being sarcastic but last night, Cheese breathed on Jess’s shirt and she told me the shirt was unsalvageable and needed to be, you guessed it, washed right away. In her defense, Cheese does have really bad breath, but still.
And I’m not just picking on Jess. I won’t name names but one time in Madison, I was living with Joe Daniels and this other girl and their dog Hercules and this girl constantly did laundry too. I know because she would often do laundry in the middle of the night and my bedroom was next to the utility room. My favorite was when it was jeans cleaning day or in my case, jeans cleaning night. I find the sound of metal buttons on dryer cylinders soothing.
I admit this is some low hanging fruit I’m picking here. I wish Jess had some goofier habits or she tried to change who I am fundamentally with hilarious consequences once she moved in but the transition has been very smooth and the cramping of my swinging bachelor pad lifestyle has been minimal so far.
In fact, the feminizing of my place has been so minimal, I could probably jam the really girly things in a closet on Saturday and continue the ruse with my family that if I got hit by a bus tomorrow, I would still go to heaven.
But then I wouldn’t have anything to blog about and I really wanted to post this picture I found in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.
Kintzler is giving Lucroy a textbook high five – Van Lieshout style. A Van Lieshout style high five is when you act like you’re going to give someone a real high five but then you creepily, gently rub the other person’s palm with the tips of your clammy fingers until the other person is grossed out and can’t handle it any more.
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
The Milwaukee Brewers are Awesome and Girl That Played With Fire Sort-of Reviewed
Now that Yovani Gallardo single-handedly delivered the Brewers first win this season and got them back on track to sweep the World Series, it is now safe to talk about the not-so-great Opening Day.
Monday was not great. It was pretty frigid outside for tailgating and our seats were in the Loge section in a location that did not allow viewing of the brand-new, very cool scoreboard. The worst part though was the congestion. It was the 2nd highest attendance ever in the new stadium which meant the bathroom lines were horrendous.
Normally, I’m no stranger to an impossibly long wait for a urinal (I’ve been to Lambeau Field after all) but Miller Park is not equipped to handle to crowd of +46,000. I missed the 5th and 6th innings waiting to use the pisser. People were getting irate. I thought a riot was going to break out when some people started entering through the exit doors to butt in line. I’m pretty sure they were closet Cubs fans. In any case, the general mood was palpable, there was no joy in that lavatory to say the least.
Of course the zeitgeist of the Section 222 Men's Room got to me and I got pee shy when it was finally my turn to go. I had been holding 5 high lifes in my bladder since the opening pitch and there I stood frozen like Prince Fielder on a 0-2 count with the winning run on third base. When is THAT guy gonna show up and start belting some dingers?
I digress.
Usually when I get pee shy, I try to clear my mind by thinking of a waterfall located in a mysterious wooded glen but I just couldn’t mentally find that magical place with 10 dudes breathing down my neck. My 25 minute wait for the urinal ended up a colossal failure. Then Saito gave up two solo home runs and things went from bad to worse.
But we won now finally so now I am in a much better mood. I’ve also relieved my bladder numerous times since Monday; all subsequent trips have been successful in case you are wondering and I know you are.
Which brings me to my next segment, my review of The Girl That Played With Fire. Warning: Spoilers coming up.
It was pretty good. I actually liked it better than the first one but only after my friend, Comrade Dmitry, pointed out that there was in fact, a zombie at the end of the book. I didn’t put two and two together at first but at the end of the book Salander gets shot in the head and buried in a shallow grave. She awakes from her coma, rises from the grave, and wrecks havoc in the nearby farmhouse in a bloody rampage. If that ain’t a zombie ending, I don’t know what is. At first I thought that ending was lame and implausible but now I love it. Thanks, Comrade.
Monday was not great. It was pretty frigid outside for tailgating and our seats were in the Loge section in a location that did not allow viewing of the brand-new, very cool scoreboard. The worst part though was the congestion. It was the 2nd highest attendance ever in the new stadium which meant the bathroom lines were horrendous.
Normally, I’m no stranger to an impossibly long wait for a urinal (I’ve been to Lambeau Field after all) but Miller Park is not equipped to handle to crowd of +46,000. I missed the 5th and 6th innings waiting to use the pisser. People were getting irate. I thought a riot was going to break out when some people started entering through the exit doors to butt in line. I’m pretty sure they were closet Cubs fans. In any case, the general mood was palpable, there was no joy in that lavatory to say the least.
Of course the zeitgeist of the Section 222 Men's Room got to me and I got pee shy when it was finally my turn to go. I had been holding 5 high lifes in my bladder since the opening pitch and there I stood frozen like Prince Fielder on a 0-2 count with the winning run on third base. When is THAT guy gonna show up and start belting some dingers?
I digress.
Usually when I get pee shy, I try to clear my mind by thinking of a waterfall located in a mysterious wooded glen but I just couldn’t mentally find that magical place with 10 dudes breathing down my neck. My 25 minute wait for the urinal ended up a colossal failure. Then Saito gave up two solo home runs and things went from bad to worse.
But we won now finally so now I am in a much better mood. I’ve also relieved my bladder numerous times since Monday; all subsequent trips have been successful in case you are wondering and I know you are.
Which brings me to my next segment, my review of The Girl That Played With Fire. Warning: Spoilers coming up.
It was pretty good. I actually liked it better than the first one but only after my friend, Comrade Dmitry, pointed out that there was in fact, a zombie at the end of the book. I didn’t put two and two together at first but at the end of the book Salander gets shot in the head and buried in a shallow grave. She awakes from her coma, rises from the grave, and wrecks havoc in the nearby farmhouse in a bloody rampage. If that ain’t a zombie ending, I don’t know what is. At first I thought that ending was lame and implausible but now I love it. Thanks, Comrade.
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