Imaginary Mad Props from Grant's Head

We headed back to Bill's pub, despite our previous issues, to kick off the new winter volleyball season. It was kind of like going to the fallback booty call (again). When you’re there it’s worth it, but you feel a little dirty. The league actually started a week later, so all the Olympians made it back.



A few things changed. Alex picked up a new player using 6th grade pick up techniques. He had a friend hand Joe (the new middle) a note asking him if he wanted to play volleyball with Alex. Obviously, Joe accepted since Alex was wearing his new Reebok pumps.

Most things didn’t change…Animal pelts still cover Bill’s Pub’s walls and they are amazingly lice free. Alex destroys White Castle and has a new found ability to consume a crave case during his lunch break (also know as the distance from the drive-thru window to his office parking lot). An entire crave case is an exaggeration, but he can do at least an 8 point meal, which means Alex points to 8 menu items for his order. Also, if the item comes in various sizes and the drive through operator offers the larger size he takes it. Similar to the Super Size Me movie, but Alex doesn’t accept the larger size to prove a point; he accepts it because his stomach makes a logical argument to his brain. The conversation is as follows.

White Castle: “May I take your order?”
Alex: Pointing to cheese sticks “1 order of cheese sticks.”
WC: “Would you like the family size?”
Alex’s stomach’s inner monologue: “I’m part of a family. No members of my family are with me right now, but it would be rude to discount them.”
Alex: “Yes, the family size would be rizzy.”

Mostly conversation covered a wide range of important issues.

1) Grant’s current employment is making lists. And, since Grant is in Quality Assurance, his lists are apparently quality assured. So why is Halle Berry not on his top 20 list although she was just named the sexist women alive? Because Grant is also on number 1 on the list of people who make terrible lists.

2) Alex’s knee is aging faster than the rest of his body. Currently, Alex’s knee has 1 child and a medium length pony tail. That put its age between 36 and 39. Let’s hope it stays healthy enough to play next year and avoids trying to bang knees much younger than itself. It’s tough to see a knee going through a midlife crisis, particularly when the calf and thigh are just hitting their prime.

3) Alex made the statement that beverages served within Bills Pub are colder than beverages served elsewhere. This hasn’t been proved as actual fact, but it also hasn’t been disproved. I’m not a scientist, so I’ll stand by it. An additional theory about Bill's frosted mugs was proposed, but it did not have solid proof such as being declared by Alex.

I’ve been online for almost an hour, so by Alex’s logic I should have a few job offers sitting in the inbox. But, I do want to put this advertisement below…

SWM SEEKING SURPRISE PARTY

Not in someone’s pants. Looking for someone to yell “SUPRPISE!” at your upcoming surprise party? Don’t want a choker who drinks from their beverage just as the Suprisee walks into the room? Call Alex to rizzy up the “SUPRPISE!” at your surprise party. Will need ride to party if before October 31st.

End of an Era...

I guess it's fitting that this blog of commentary occurring while eating sausage pizza started with discussing the Free Refill Era at Bill' s Pub (/spit) and concludes with the end of our league and the tragic fall of our patronage to Bill's Pub (/spit).
THE TRAGIC TALE
It starts with winning our 1st playoff match and being forced to stay at league for a 2nd playoff match, thus delaying the main point of the night(eating pizza). Alex makes the bold decision to call Bill's Pub (/spit) and order our pizza so it's ready upon our arrival. However, Bill's Pub (/spit) does not allow you to "pre-order", but Alex is surprisingly cunning when it comes to eating and asks if we can order a pizza for pick up and just eat it within the establishment. The answer is yes. A major victory for the evening, so we thought. Upon losing our 2nd playoff match we victoriously head to Bill's Pub (/spit) to dine on our awaiting pizza. The pizza is ready as promised, but when we go to sit down at one of the many open tables we are told we can not eat that pizza within their friendly confine. They acted as if a sausage pizza made for delivery would transform into a bomb and detonate if it were placed on one of their tables. I know sausage pizza is a powerful cuisine, but it cannot transform into a bomb...nothing would transform into a bomb because that is stupid. When things transform they transform into something cooler Optimus Prime --> Truck, Megatron --> Walther P-38, Grimlock --> T-Rex, etc . They don't transform into something that would destroy themselves, in essence a bomb. Why we were treated so poorly at Bill's Pub (/spit) is unknown, but we ending up taking our sausage pizza and eating it at Alex's house where the pizza caused no problems upon placing it on his table. I can only speculate that Bill's Pub (/spit) said their good-byes to our delivery pizza since it was to be leaving like most delivery pizzas do and didn't want to go through the awkwardness of running into it soon after saying good-bye...I know this is an uncomfortable scenario. It's like when you run into someone you know at Target while you're both still shopping. Obviously, you have to stop and converse when you first see each other, but you both still have shopping to do and you're not good enough friends to shop together. You speak for a few minutes and then say your parting statements...but you see each other 5 more times within the aisles. A few times you pretend like you're looking at something on the shelf and don't notice them and they do the same, other times you rattle off a witty 1-liner (Hey, haven't seen you in while!), or maybe you just exchange nods. Anyway, it's uncomfortable, but it's no excuse for Bill's Pub (/spit)

Anyway, we still ate pizza, but we were surrounded by Alex's homosexual paraphernalia which included puzzles, rainbow colored t-shirts, and wieners. I didn't actually see wieners, but I'm sure he called Nigel and told him to hide them.

So, sausage pizza at Bill's Pub (/spit) is over. It's the end of an era...if 3 months can actually be considered an era. I'm sure sausage pizza will still be consumed (hopefully not at Alex's wiener laden home), but somewhere. If anyone knows of a good place, let me know. I'm sure we can figure out a way to make them hate us as well.

Bye Week

The league has let us down once again by not giving us a reason to leave our houses. One would think sausage pizza is enough to get people to leave their houses, but if that was true, pizza delivery people would be unemployed. We have another bye this week, giving me time to wonder why is it called a 'bye' (and why does the English language have by, buy and bye. No wonder the majority of immigrants can't speak the language). In the common use of the word 'bye', someone shows up and leaves and 'bye' is announced during the leaving. Or, at least their is some type of exchange, verbal or otherwise, concluding with the word 'bye'. For the bye week, there is no such exchange and we just don't show up, giving no reason for anyone to say 'bye' to us. What's even worse is that at volleyball tournaments the 'bye' generally means your team officiates and there is no leaving. From now on I don't want anyone to tell me that my team has a 'bye'. Volleyball league schedules should just be noted with "The good looking team won't be here so don't bother showing up. If for some reason you do show up, we'll at least say bye to you when you leave". For tournament schedules it should say "Shouldn't have won so much because now you officiate a lame match. Don't forget to say bye to all the losing teams who will enjoy getting something to eat and possibly have a few (more) drinks. But hey, maybe you'll make it to the Olympics someday".

Also, I need to make a correction about Tom's heritage. Apparently he's Welsh. Which basically means he's white, can't dance, can't jump, can't care for a lawn, can't own a casino and doesn't get any benefits of affirmative action. Be proud Tom.

The straw that hunched the Laama's back

Alex and Grant are participating in different versions of a 'coke diet'. Grant is giving up drinking coke (for those of you who don't know Grant, Coke is really the liquid version of sausage pizza to him) and Alex is going to do coke (and smoke cigarettes). Grant has only been on his diet for 2 days, but he's discovered that drinking water makes you pee (apparently more than drinking Coke). It's too bad he doesn't have the Camel's ability to store the excess water in a hump because he's losing productivity by going to the bathroom so much. Alex, being of Camel/Llama decent, has been mutated to have the Camel's ability to store food/water/beer in humps (his stomach and humped-back formerly misdiagnosed as bad posture). However, he obviously uses the mutation to be less productive and to lay on couches for entire Sundays without moving. Both diets do have their merits...Grant will be healthier for giving up coke and Alex will get skinner, possibly lose his humps and become more productive. The nice thing for Alex is that his New Year's resolution is to always drink his beverage through a straw. This means he will need to carry a few extra straws around since beer is usually served without straw. So, he can use those extra straws for doing coke as long as the coke is in powdered form.

Cocaine has several forms similar to those of salt or sugar, so it's funny that we haven't seen coke cubes, coke canes (not to be confused with cocaine), coke packets or coke licks. Coke licks is a great idea to make hunting deer more sporting. The difficulty of gunning down a deer on cocaine at 50 yards has to be greater than gunning down a sober deer. But, I guess once it crashed you could probably walk up to it and shoot it. A deer's heart rate can be as high as 265 beats a minute when a wolf howls, so its heart would really be racing after a few hits from the coke lick and hearing a gun shot...actually the deer's heart may burst on the spot or a simple "Boo" might be enough for the kill. Killing a coked up deer by scaring it would result in a very rizzy deer head mount.

In the long run, though, giving deer coke wouldn't result in yielding much venison and it might contain some weird deer VD since the does would start whoring themselves out to get their next hit. That's just what cocaine does to females.

Also, when was the first straw placed in a beverage and why? I don't see any straws in Da Vinci's The Last Supper.
Current Last Supper

Placing the straw in the painting clarifies its message and shows the significance of the straw.
Actually Last Supper

It's really Jesus' gift to mankind (it's much easier to wrap than dying for our sins) and Jesus was a carpenter and the straw is akin to the hammer. You could push nails into wood but that is a lot of work for the hands...enter the hammer and the hands have much less work to do. The straw offers similar simplification for the hands. When eating, your hands have to hold your knife and fork (or pizza and fries). One of these items must be dropped when getting a drink...enter the straw and your hands simply have to hold your food and you just bend 30 degrees to get a drink (or 5 degrees if your Alex, the evolution of the lazy man). Also, the straw has the ablity to spit in gravity's eye by simply putting your finger over one end of it. That's Jesus' type of magic.

Anyway, straws are pretty rizzy and it's to bad they are associated to the word "suck". As the dictionary verb definition, straws do suck, but as slang they don't. I think a new word should be used to describe how the straw operates...I don't think rizzy fits...maybe straw should have a verb form...I imagine the verb form of straw used in the following conversation...
"Do you suck your beverage through a straw?"
"No, I straw my beverage through a straw."
"Indeed. I do do that as well"