Great Games I Have Known

I was shopping last night (specifically for groceries, Scrabble, spoons, a plunger, and Guitar Hero 2) when I came across a most unusual game.

When I was in the board game aisle at Target, I found a game called Speed Stackers or some shit like that. I forget the real name of the product because it was the concept of the game that really had me floored.

The game consists of taking six plastic cups and then timing yourself to see how long you stack the cups in a pyramid. Speed Stackers boasts an alternate set of cups for two-player, cup stacking mayhem. The total package consists of twelve cups, a cup bag, a cup stacking mat, and a timing device. Retail Price: $29.95.

When I was investigating the nature of this game and then discovering the price tag for said game, I let out THEE biggest scoff you could possibly imagine and then I did one of those things where I immediately looked all around me, to see if anyone else could believe what was going on here.

Apparently I was the only one shocked by the fact that there are consumers out there in the world that are willing to shell out thirty bucks for twelve plastic cups under the pretense of a stacking game. The game was situated between Operation and Mousetrap adding further insult to injury. Now THOSE were real games.

I initially grabbed the box because I thought some really clever college kid finally came up with the idea of marketing flip cup to the masses. This idea is just as stupid as the stacking game, but at least I could applaud the idea of some kid out there paying his tuition through selling crap to his absent-minded brethren.

But thirty bucks! Not even a student at Arizona State would fall for such a scheme. Zing!

But the whole idea got me thinking of great toys and games that we had growing up…


Speed Stackers? More like Lame Stackers!

Seriously, Ben, is that really the best caption you can do here? C'Mon!

The Astonishing Tales of Joe Daniels

I don’t know if any of y’all noticed but I tacked that last blog post on to the previous post, thus completing the blog idea in its entirety but at the same time, keeping the commentary going.

I think I am going to do this for now on. The primary reason is because I am attempting to get up at 5:00 am every morning so I can establish a morning routine before heading off to my cubicle. There a lull of time in this routine that would be perfect for bloggin’ so I’m going to have a topic in mind for the week and then add to it daily or at least every other day.

That’s right, you heard correct, you will now get a daily dose of Brain Litter. I’m anticipating a Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show-like response to this turn of the events but that remains to be seen.

To kick this concept off, I’ve decided I’m going to tell an amusing tale about my roommate Joe Daniels every day this week. Well, not so much story, they’re more like foibles. Three of them will be true, and one will be false.

Try to guess which one I made up. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Joe Daniels Foible #1

After taking his sweet time getting through college, Joe decided to shed his socialist ways and get a job in the real world. He decided he would try his luck at Epic’s Intergalactic Headquarters, one of the world’s largest providers of medical software.

Epic has a grueling interview process and after several bouts with the company’s recruiters, Joe finally made it to the last stage, a mock business presentation. Knowing only how to espouse pinko rhetoric and propaganda, Joe was clueless on how to deliver a short, concise, and factual report.

So Joe was forced to collaborate with me, business prodigy and zombie expert. Together, we put together a survival guide for dealing with the undead when they inevitably take over the world. Topics included zombie physiology, weapon strengths and weaknesses, and defensive measures to fortify your home.

The presentation was a rousing success. Joe was hired on the spot, more likely for his ability to defend Epic headquarters in a zombie epidemic, and less likely for his business prowess, but still, he gets a weekly paycheck now like the rest of us capitalists.

The moral of the story: If you want a lucrative job in today’s high flying medical software industry, you best be brushing up on your knowledge of the walking dead.

1/24/07

Joe Daniels Foible #2

Last New Years Eve, we decided to spend an evening out on the town. Imagine that. We were going to kick off our new year bar hopping in a section of town we don’t normally go to, the taverns of south Park Street.

The night started off fine. Joe was dropping some wicked bombs but other than that, it was business as usual.

The thing is though, his gas expulsions were getting worse and worse as the night crept on. More frequent too, a most disagreeable combination. Normally I laugh my butt off at stink air, but this ass fog went beyond the realm of funny.

“Go back to Russia, you stinkmonger,” I kept telling him but to no avail. Dude and Andy went outside for a smoke and apparently people out there were commenting on how bad it smelled inside. At that point we knew trouble was brewing. Literally.

At around 10:30, Joe let off this one that was just putrid. It smelled like two turds got caught in the middle of a prison riot. You just had to laugh.

Unfortunately, the bouncer didn’t think it was so funny. He came over to us and said we had to leave. Joe promised he would go to the bathroom again if it happened again but the guy wouldn’t listen. We got kicked out of the Klinic because Joe wouldn’t stop shitting his pants. It was a new low for us, and not the best way to kick off 2007 to say the least.

I don’t really blame Joe, though. Before the smoking ban, we used to be able to break wind freely in a bar and the cigarette smell would cover it up. Those glory days are over. Maybe Joe thought the live music was loud enough to mask the stench, who knows?

Moral of the Story: Flatulence will get you nowhere.

1/25/07

Joe Daniels Foible #3

My Junior year of college, we all used to live in this shabby excuse for a dwelling known as 1026 Drake Street. Joe had a bedroom right across the hall from mine where he used to spend hours upon hours reading literature sympathetic to the communist party and playing Wrestlemania on Playstation 2.

When I got bored with my studies, I often visited his lair to hang out and to listen to his crazy ideas. He used to keep this change bucket on his dresser that always seemed a little fuller each time I glanced at it.

Why was I constantly staring at Joe’s loose change? You know how sometimes you think something is so hideous, you just can’t look away? Like watching a horrific car accident on the side of a highway. Or watching Zach Braff on Scrubs. Well, it was kind of like that.

Anyways, one Saturday morning, I wanted to go to Best Buy but Joe didn’t because he didn’t have any money. Typical.

But I really wanted to go so I offered him an even 20 bucks for all the change in his bucket. I figured there was about 30 dollars in there so I thought Joe would immediately decline the offer but low and behold, he accepted it without a moment’s hesitation.

Joe thought he was getting away with a sweet deal, but I counted that shit up right away and guess how money was in there?

$37.45!

I remember the exact amount to this day because it was the best business deal I ever made. I made an instant 87% return on my investment without lifting a finger. Plus Joe was super pissed when he found out. I don’t know if he was pissed because he lost so much money in the transaction or because he realized he has terrible judgment when it comes to spatial relationships. Either way, that was probably the best Saturday ever.

Moral of the Story: Keep your change in a tall and narrow container instead of a bucket with a wide bottom. It’ll look like you have a lot more money.

Also, if I were you, I’d get rid of all those germ-infested pennies, too. That’s just good hygiene.



Eat your heart out, Coinstar Center. You ain't got nothin’ on me!

1/26/07

Joe Daniels Foible #4

Another time during that fateful experience at 1026 Drake Street, we we’re all gathered around the living room, hungover, and watching the Packers stomp Detroit.

Wait…maybe they were beating the Bears that day. I forget, but it back in 2002 so I’m sure we were winning.

We decided to order Papa John’s since we we’re too lazy to do anything else. I was broke so I decided I was just going to leave the room when the pizza arrived rather than bask in all that mozzarella and Italian sausage glory and not have any part of it being eaten.

But over an hour passed and still no pizza arrived. So the guys told me if I called and bitched to Papa John’s, then I would have a stake in their pie. So I did, and Papa John said they’d send two free pizzas over to our place for the inconvenience. Score!

Another hour passed. The Packer game was dwindling down. We were not at all pleased with our current state of hunger. So I called and bitched again and they said the same thing again.

Twenty minutes later we finally got our order. We were pissed that it took almost two and half hours but it was free so no harm no foul.

All of a sudden the doorbell rang again. We all looked at each other quizzically, as no one ever came to visit us at the stink pit that was 1026 Drake Street.

It turned out it was another Papa John’s pizza guy, and he had two more pizzas for us. We made a mad dash to cover any trail of the first two pizzas before answering the door. It was damn near impossible to keep a straight face as the guy apologized profusely for the late order.

Four free Pizza’s in one day! Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.

That was probably the best Sunday, not to be confused with the best Saturday (see above post) ever for me. No, check that, January 26, 1997 was the best Sunday ever. This was the second best Sunday ever.

What does this have to do with Joe? Well, he was there the whole time. I think…

Is that not a good enough story about Joe to conclude this post? One time, me and Lumby put Joe’s moped in his bed. That was pretty funny.

And one time, me and my buddy Cross took a copy of Tail End magazine (a smutty periodical featuring nothing but butts. I remember the cover story was titled “Masses of Asses”) and tore out the pages and hid them all over Joe’s room and between his school books and things so that he was constantly finding porn in his belongings (like during a lecture, those moments were the best) for the next few months. That was pretty funny too.

This concludes the astonishing tales of Joe Daniels. As you can see, he’s a pretty easy guy to embarrass. If you remember, one of the stories is not entirely true, even though they are all equally plausible. I’ll leave you guessing as to the real truth.



Here’s a funny picture action photo of Joe throwing up. I think it was taken a few weeks ago. Anyways, this whole Astonishing Tales of Joe Daniels ruse was just an excuse to post this picture. Enjoy.

Part II & III - 6 Reasons to Patronize McDonalds This Month

Chicken McNuggets may be king for the next two weeks but that won’t fool a true McDonald’s veteran like myself: The double cheeseburger or simply the “DCB” is still the best value for a dollar anywhere on the planet.

I am cheap. There I said it. I like cheap shit. I am the only person I know that brings a calculator to the grocery store. Not to keep a tab on price totals and keep my spending within a set budget, oh good God no. I have no set budget when I shop and have never carried a list of things I need. I use a calculator to compare the various net weights of foods to their respective price tag, maximizing ounces to dollars for optimal fullness.

This same kind of logic applies to fast food cravings. In my mind, there are only two options to get full on the cheap, call it two bucks. How do you get full for two bucks? Easy. The DCB and the Half-Pound Beef & Potato Burrito at Taco Bell.

Let’s put these two gut grenades to the test. We’ll also throw Chicken McNuggets in there just for the sake of argument.

The criteria used for judging these items are as follows: Value (by the objective measure of dollars per ounce), Volume, Taste, and Probability of Horrific Bowel Movements post-dining. The scale is measured from the low to high with the item having the LOWEST total score being the BEST all around solution to your snack attack. I have displayed the summary results in this here excel spreadsheet because that’s just what I do.



As you can see, the DCB is the clear victor in this study by an overwhelming margin to the Beef and Potato in spite of its high scores in value and volume. I know I may get some argument here, especially with the DCB having a higher taste score than the McNuggets, but let’s look at the facts.

The DCB is tasty. It’s beef. It’s cheese. It’s delicious. It probably tastes as good now as it did back when Ray Kroc first decided to declare war on our waistbands back in 1950 or whatever.

Now call me nostalgic but I kind of miss the old Chicken McNuggets. The ones that were cooked in trans fats, kind of gray inside, and, if I remember correctly, used to contain a small percentage of fish. I’m not joking about that fish part, I read that somewhere, I think.

Either way, McNuggets used to be more awesome even if they didn’t contain 100% all-white Pigeon meat that they use today.

Still more to follow…

1/21/07

I don’t know why I feel so compelled to keep going on this inane topic but here goes.

Don’t get me wrong, Chicken McNuggets are great and they are still full of surprises. Just the other day, I decided to get a little crazy and get the honey mustard sauce instead of my bread n’ butter Sweet n’ Sour. The experience was almost divine, it was so good. It was a great way to mix things up over this two week McMarathon of value.

FYI, while I was doing my homework for this post, I stumbled upon this sweet little factoid: Sweet N’ Sour sauce is actually a combination of Apricot flavoring, soy sauce, vinegar, and chili pepper. No shit, huh? That’s what I thought, too.

Anyways, an often overlooked criterion for judging the merits of these snacks is volume. It’s not enough to be physically full, I also want to be psychologically full. The DCB loses some points in this respect as it tends to resemble a dense brick of processed meat and cheese. Just looking at it, you wouldn’t think your stomach would be satisfied. Same thing goes with the McNuggets even though the calorie and fat count would tell you otherwise.

The Beef and Potato Burrito has many quality attributes, including value per ounce and volume, it’s just that the taste doesn’t compare to the above. The consistency of its inner-workings are rarely the same, so it’s kind of a crap-shoot whether or not you’re getting equal distribution of beef and potato. The last few bites always suck too because it is usually just bunched up tortilla and maybe some sour cream if you’re lucky. Weak.

And don’t even get me started with the shits factor. I think we’ve all felt the wrath of Taco Bell at least once in our lives so I’ll leave it at that. As interesting as I find this subject, I wish to avoid alienating my female readers.

In order to combat some the DCB’s shortcomings, I have devised the ultimate order scheme. The order needs a contender so we’re going to pit it against a classic: The Number 5 Value Meal with a Coke. To those who need a refresher, that would be a Quarter Pounder w/Cheese and a large French fry.

Retail price: $5.50: Total Calories: 1,390 Total Fat: 56 Grams. Total Weight: 12.98 Ounces*

* I did not include the weight of the cola beverage because liquids only temporarily trick your stomach that it is full and does not actually contribute to an official state of fullness.

Now look at my method, we’ll call it the Ben Wollin combo. It involves items exclusive to the dollar menu.

1. A DCB. No surprises there.

2. Double Hamburger. Why a Double Hamburger instead of a DCB? To be honest, I think you’re asking for trouble eating four slices of American cheese in one sitting. It’s almost dangerously cheesy. I recommend swapping the bottoms so you get one slice of cheese per double burger, resulting in a perfect distribution of meat, bun, and cheese.

3. Small fry. You don’t need a large fry, trust me.

4. A Side Salad. This is to tackle that whole volume issue. Simply stuff the lettuce in your sandwiches, giving your brain the impression that you are actually eating two large mouth-watering burgers.

5. Fruit and Yogurt Parfait. Instead of digesting those empty calories with the cola, you actually get some kind of nourishment.

Retail Price: $5.00 Total Calories: A meager 1,200. Fat: 55 grams (but who’s counting?) Weight: 21.59 ounces.

There you go. You get almost twice as much food, the taste and volume are all there, and you’re getting some greens and fruits and yogurts and stuff so you don’t have to feel guilty all day. In fact, you’d be stupid NOT to get the Ben Wollin combo.

I realize the best bet for your body is to avoid McDonald’s entirely but that is not what this post is about. It’s about getting the best bang for your buck. Right now, that means stocking up on McNuggets. To date, my McNugget count is at 43. That’s an odd number and I’ll tell you why. Two simple words: bonus McNugget. You can imagine how happy I was last Saturday when I found SEVEN McNuggets in my cute little McNugget bin.

That boot-shaped little guy made my weekend, let me tell you. It’s the little things, right?



Check out my new license plate. Not only does it proudly display my affinity for Chicken McNuggets, but is also a great way to not get pulled over on a weekend night.

6 Reasons to Patronize McDonalds This Month

Stop the presses! I have a very important announcement to make!

Chicken McNuggets are now on the Dollar menu at Mac and Dons.

I know, I know, I am just as flabbergasted as you are. You might think that this deal is too good to be true or that you would get a smaller portion size but you would be wrong.

Unlike Wendy’s paltry five nuggets for a dollar, you get all SIX juicy, tender, all-white meat Chicken McNuggets. Simply put, this is the greatest steal since I stole that box of Sweet N’ Sour Packets from the McDonalds on Regent Street during the Halloween debacle of 2002.

I find this bargain rather curious for a variety of reasons, namely the timing. You see, for my New Years resolution this year, I was going to make it a point to quit fast-food burger restaurants for 2007. I was going to do this for two reasons:

1. You know how smoking makes you look really cool when you’re young but when you see adults do it, it looks really unattractive? Like they should know better by now? I kind of feel that way about Fast Food. Healthy appetites for greasy burgers and French fries are fine when you’re a high school football player or a starving college kid, but as an adult, at least for single adults, it kind of looks like you’re just giving up on life.

2. My favorite hang-over activity used to be going to the neighborhood McDonalds and ordering the Breakfast Deluxe Platter, a meal consisting of eggs, sausage, hotcakes, hash browns, and a biscuit. I thought it would make me temporarily happy, but later it only added to my misery. Why? Maybe it had something to do with the 1220 calories, 61 grams of fat, and 480 milligrams of Cholesterol that I just mainlined into my heart.

The next time I want to abuse my body like that, I’ll just join Opus Dei and get one of those barbed strap things like that albino asshole in The Da Vinci Code. It will probably be cheaper and I won’t suffer from gut rot for the rest of the day.

Anyways, I suspect McDonalds is offering this deal to get people to quit their New Years resolutions of eating healthier. Even the most disciplined dieter is going to buckle under this kind of pressure. 6 McNuggets for a dollar! Those bastards are clever, I’ll give them that.

You may have won this battle, McDonalds, but you haven’t won the war. After all, the deal only lasts until January 29th, so after that it’ll be back to business as usual; fighting my DCB cravings.

More on that on my next post…



Hey! This lady got a bigger nugget than I did last night. Not fair!

Interview with the Bloggist

Some dude in England randomly e-mailed me about two weeks ago to do an interview for his blog which showcases the profiles of other humor bloggists. Here is the link to the first of many interviews as Brain Litter inevitably hits the mainstream:

Mr. Joe Blogs

The bloggist interviewed right beofre me apparently writes his blog in the persona of a 40 year-old zombie FBI agent that has been undead for the past three years. I think that gives you a pretty good idea of the high calibur of bloggists that this guy solicits.

Wii Don’t Take Shit From Anyone

Every once in awhile, a new electronic peripheral comes out that changes the way we play video games. Nobody knows and does this better than the brain savants at Nintendo HQ. When the competition was sticking to their boring old console pads, Nintendo had the balls to give us a new kind of controller. One that doesn’t rely on mindless button mashing but simple and intuitive movements of the wrist, heralding a new age of gaming unlike the world has ever known.

You might know it as the Wii but, you sir, are wrong.


BAM!

I’m talking about the POWERGLOVE, 1988-style, b-yotch!

I remember, very vividly, when I was a young lad of about seven years old, my mom approached me around Demember and asked me a question that may have changed the course of my life forever:

“Honey, would you be happier if Santa Claus brought you a Game Boy or a Powerglove this year for Christmas?”

It was a question that still resonates with me to this day. In my head, all I could think about was how cool I would look wearing that gauntlet of gaming. I would be the envy of all the kids in the neighborhood for sure. In reality, I probably would have ended up close to something like this:

Can you imagine how giddy you'd be to roast this dufus in a high school communications class?

It didn’t help that the wildly successful feature-length commercial for Super Mario 3 a.k.a. The Wizard with Fred Savage was still fresh in my memory. I still can’t figure out how that tool kid knew about the warp whistle in the first world when, presumably, the game was being debuted for the first time ever in tournament play. They didn’t even have the Internet back then. How does Hollywood get away with it?

Anyways, that one badass kid in the middle of the movie had a Powerglove and he wore it in style. He even had a steel briefcase for transporting it. One great life lesson I’ve learned so far over my twenty-five year stay on this planet is to NEVER fuck with a guy carrying around a Powerglove in a steel briefcase.

Smell the glove.

To make a long story short, I asked for the Powerglove and ended up getting a lame ass Game Boy. It might have been because I was a bad boy that year, but more likely than not, I think my Dad wanted to play that Tetris game that everyone was talking about.

It took me about a good six or seven year to forgive Santa Claus for that Christmas morning blunder. Even though it eventually worked out for the best, I still think the Powerglove deserves its place among the greatest peripherals ever made such as the Virtual Boy, Sega 32X, and that crazy robot top-spinning thingy that worked with Gyromite that came with the original Nintendo packaging.

You were ahead of your time, Powerglove. Thanks for keeping the dream alive, Miyamoto.

On a completely unrelated topic, I noticed another great addition to my series, people that look like things and other people.

Tonight’s match up:

Ohio State Football Head Coach Jim Tressel

And Mr. Dewey, the beloved detention administrator from Saved By The Bell.


It's a gift, what can I say?

Brett Favre: Man of Steel or...

...Man of Feel?

As in feel-ings.

I always knew Brett Favre was capable of crying. I thought it would take a Joe Theismann-like shattering of his right Tibia or a screening of My Girl to bring them about but I knew Brett Favre’s tear ducts were functional.

I did not expect to see those tears after the New Years Eve massacre against the Chicago Bears last Sunday. It’s not that I have any less respect for the man, it’s just than I did not want to worry about going into 2007 Favre-less on a night that is traditionally celebratory.

I have big plans for 2007, and a SIGNIFICANT portion of those plans revolve around me and Brett Favre winning the NFC Championship and making a bid for Super Bowl XLII. How am I supposed to accomplish this feat if Brett Favre is running around the foothills of Kiln, Mississippi instead of around the Detroit defense, hitting Donald Driver for a quick TD in the corner end zone?

Save those tears for when you ACTUALLY retire, Brett Favre. In 2012. I know I’ll be crying along with you.

… as well as pretty much every male born in Wisconsin between 1925 and 1986.



Bears fans also had a reason to cry on Sunday. It's not everyday your quarterback throws more interceptions than completions against one of the worst pass defenses in the NFL. Sorry, Chicago, but Sexy Rexy is not going to bring you a title this year.

2007: Still No Freakin' Hoverboards

This is bullshit. Seriously.

I was hoping that my treatise on Hoverboards in 2006 would have sparked a creative movement amongst inventors across the world. My dream was to get venture capitalists to divert their precious resources from biotechnology and pharmaceuticals to the more lucrative field of plastic boards floating on cushions of air.

I want a Pit-Bull for God’s sake, not a stupid cure for cancer!


Hoverboards don't work on water. Unless you have power. Or a Pit-Bull (shown on the right).

In a way, though, it was my fault. I did not come up with a realistic solution to bring Hoverboards to the general public. Even though my heart was in the right place when I thought reinstating the former Soviet Union to start a new arms race was the appropriate solution to put Hoverboards into mass production, everyone knows that Rocky Balboa effectively ended Communism for good when he defeated Ivan Drago in 1985.

Therefore a new plan is needed and the approach is three pronged:

1. Create Awareness

I don’t think the average American realizes how dangerously far behind we are in the creation of even a working Hoverboard prototype. Therefore, I suggest that TNT run a 24 hour Back To The Future II marathon on New Years Day, similar to what they do with the A Christmas Story on Christmas Day to create awareness of the problem at hand.

In between commercials, they could show a bunch of news features of little kids crying because there were no Hoverboards under the Christmas tree this year. Then we’ll have a celebrity swoop in there and console the kid. It’ll be a one-two punch because Americans can’t enough of crying kids and celebrities. The net effect of this media blitz will be a call to action that will force the eggheads at NASA or Mattel or wherever to get their heads out of their asses once and for all.

Plus, Back To The Future II is awesome, so at least I’ll be entertained while I nurse my hangover that day.

2. Innovation

Remember the media hype surrounding the Segway when it first debuted a few years ago? The inventor of the Segway promised us a new form of transportation that was going to change the world. We all sat at the edge of our seats, anxiously awaiting this new marvel of technology and how it was going to impact the future.

What did we get? A glorified scooter with a $15,000 price tag. Did it change the world? Hardly. The Segway boasts some of the most sophisticated circuitry and gyroscopic balance mechanisms in any vehicle ever made, but the whole system rests on a dead technology:

The wheel.

The wheel had a great run in its heyday, but the shelf life of this once prominent technology is near expiration. The inventor of the Segway should have realized this in the conceptualization stage of the Segway and scrapped the project right then and there.


Wheels!? Where we're going, we don't need wheels.

But I do think that this dude is mankind’s best bet for creating an operational Hoverboard. He clearly has the brains, financial resources, and risk adverseness to stake a company’s future on a novelty form of transportation. Plus he’s going to want to redeem himself for the whole Segway debacle. We need to sell this guy on the Hoverboard dream as soon as possible.

3. Sponsorship

Everything needs a sponsor these days and I found the perfect fit for the Hoverboard. Think about it for a second. What group of people is responsible for the greatest leaps of technology that still subside in society today? I’m not talking about the internal combustion engine or the microchip processor here, think waaaaaaay farther back from those innovations. I’m talking about the wheel…fire…the fulcrum. Ring any bells?

I’m talking about cavemen of course. Don’t you think they are about due for another big hit? Cavemen could fund Hoverboard research and development in the hopes of getting their dignity back after being forced to earn cash through those Geico commercials. So instead of shilling for car insurance companies, they can, once again, contribute to the advancement of civilization. It’s win/win for everybody.

Call me an idealist, but I honestly think my little plan here will at least get America pointed in the right direction. If not, I already have action plan in place for next year. It involves What Would Marty McFly Do rubber bracelets.

Who's with me here!?



Hoverboards: So easy to use, even a human could ride one.

How to NOT Scalp Packer Tickets

So it turns out I am NOT the crafty negotiator I once thought I was.

It wasn’t my fault though; I was completely blinded by my desire to see Brett Favre trounce the Minnesota Vi-queens in Brett Favre’s possible last game at the motherland of Lambeau Field.

Even though I know Brett Favre is going to play for at least another six or seven seasons, I didn’t want to take any chances missing the game. Although it is a commonly known fact that Brett Favre can not be stopped by any man or manmade object, there was always the possibility that a stray meteorite or a bolt of lightning could take Brett Favre’s right arm out indefinitely.

Or make him, more stronger?

Anyways, Turk “Ding” Freeman and I were scrounging around the hallowed grounds of Green Bay looking for cheap tickets right after the kickoff but things were looking bleak for us, despite the miserable weather that typically scares away the wannabe Packer aficionados. Even after five minutes elapsed from the first quarter, there were only buyers to be seen and no sellers.

We almost abandoned all hope when we came across a dude with two tickets right next to each other. He was a shining beacon of light in a murky tunnel of despair. I would have sold my unborn children into a lifetime of manual labor for those tickets, but luckily my bartering instincts took over. With any luck, we’d be sitting in the stands in moments, scarfing down hot dogs, chugging cold beer, and watching Aaron Kampman crush the bejezus out of the Padawan Viking quarterback.

Talking to the scalper was like talking to Mr. Testeverde, the turbo-tongue teacher from Saved By The Bell. There was a lot of gibberish and a lot of numbers being fired out between the two of us like an old-timey auction. Not a lot of sense was being made and I was really getting caught up in the moment, but I eventually talked the guy down from $200 for both tickets to $160. I should have held out for less but I was getting anxious.

Right as I was about to complete the transaction, this other dude comes out of nowhere with two other tickets and I instinctively yelled $150 to get a better deal.

Sold!

I learned three valuable lessons as the dough left my wallet and the two tickets were clasped in my greedy little hands:

1. When going to a game with a buddy, make sure the tickets you’re buying are NEXT TO EACH OTHER.

2. Make sure the tickets are NOT in the nosebleed section in the corner endzone.

3. It’s probably not wise to buy Packer tickets from a spaz that looks like he’s on crack.

Ding, upon realizing that I way overpaid for two crappy tickets that were on opposite sides of the stadium, promptly swore me off and proceeded to go watch the game with better company at the Sidelines bar off of Ridge Road. To make matters worse, the crackhead that I bought the tickets from kept hounding me and tugging on my arm to give him more money, like my generous contribution to his drug habit wasn’t already good enough.

I deserved it all. By the time I found another buyer, the first quarter was almost complete. There was a nary a soul around by this time so I ended up dumping the extra ticket for twenty big ones to a lucky passerby and then booked ass to my seat for the duration of the game.

I was stewing in anger for most of the football contest (don’t get me started on Bubba Franks) but the miraculous game winning field goal by Dave Rayner in the final minutes made the price of admission almost worthwhile. I was really just hoping to bear witness to the spectacle of a Brett Favre TD pass and to, consequently, rock out to Todd Rungren but there’s always next year.

Now if you excuse me, I have to dust off my calculus book. I’m going to figure out all the mathematical possibilities for the 7 and 8 Pack to get into the playoffs. It’s going to be a long night.

Get your shit together, NFC.



Wanna know what's worse than paying $54 for a single Packer seat in the corner endzone? Paying $130 for it.

txt msgs r STILL 2 cool

BBRRRR! That’s the buzzer and that means time is up.

The correct answer to the question

Is it acceptable for a guy to use smiley faces, winks, exclamation points, etc in a text message?

is… Yes. Within reason.

To illustrate my point, I’ll use a real life example based off a series of exchanges between me and this girl I met last Halloween. I met her at The Pub and she was dressed up as Rainbow Brite, so going forward, she will be called, you guessed it, Rainbow Brite.

What happened was I just kind of bullshitted with Rainbow Brite a little on Halloween and nothing happened but then I ran into her a few weeks later while she was bartending at the Essen Haus. We exchanged phone numbers and it’s been an exciting game of cat and mouse ever since. And by “exciting” I actually mean “tepid” but I’ve been busy lately and don’t even get me started on the November Rule.

One night, Rainbow Brite texted me out of the blue to see if I was downtown to meet up for a drink. I responded with Hey! yadda yadda yadda. I think using Hey! as an opener is a perfectly acceptable way to greet someone you are actually excited to hear from or from someone you just haven’t heard from awhile or from someone you don’t normally correspond with via the text messaging.

Another time when I was hanging out at the Essen Haus, she had a shot of Jager sent to our table. I didn’t get a chance to thank her for it so I texted her when I left the bar Thx for the shot, I owe u one! The exclamation point usage in this scenario is questionable but I still think it worked well given the context.

Later that night, she texted me to ask me what I was doing at the Essen Haus that night. I texted her back saying I was meeting up with friends at the Come Back Inn (a different bar that is connected to the Essen Haus) and that I just popped in to see my fave fraulein :) FYI they make all the waitresses wear lederhosen to go with the German theme of the bar.

Anyways, I thought that text was MONEY. Plus I finally got to apply the two semesters of German classes I took in high school to try and pick up chicks. About time!

I suppose I could have texted her and said just popped in to see my fave fraulein. You see, I am trying to create a candor with you that is light and airy. I am joking and flirting with you and a fun time is being had by all. but I figured the smiley face could say that and more and it wouldn’t have taken 20 minutes to type in.

My whole point here is that unless you’re some kind of James Dean character, leaning up against a wall with your arms crossed, smoking a cigarette and exuding a devil-may-care demeanor, then, no, using emoticons is NOT going to help your image. In fact, if you are that guy, you probably shouldn’t be text messaging at all, unless you just text blank spaces to people, the electronic equivalent of the indifference head nod.

But, if you’re anybody else in the world, why wouldn’t you choose to express yourself a little bit? Since 85% of communication between people is done through body language, doesn’t it make sense to take some liberties with emoticons and slang in that fragile remaining 15% in order to make your text message understandable? To me, if you took all of the examples I mentioned above and used periods in place of everything else, the message would sound like it was being narrated by Stephen Hawking.

On the other hand, you don’t want to sound like a 13 year-old teeny bopper, texting her girlfriend about seeing her crush at Abercrombie the other day (OMG!!! im in luv!!! CML!!!) so I say find a balance that makes you comfortable with your masculinity and stick with it.


Sure he's the most brilliant physicist of all time, but that doesn't mean I want to sound like him when I'm trying to score a date for Saturday night.