Alignment of the Stars
It must have been. Or someone is looking out for me because of the high gas prices. I mean really, doesn't it have to balance out sometime?
Anyways, it looks like things have balanced out. Depsite now hoping I qualify for the No Child Left Behind act because I can nearly not afford gas so my education will go down the drain, I'm cutting class tomorrow and going to shoot at doves. Screw class tomorrow. I need some controlled violence.
I have to go to Hutch tomorrow and grab gear for my first football game on the radio. I'm already sure I'm going to garble some names. I also have a meeting with my editor at 3 to lay out all my sports writing, a photo for a different story at 3:30, an 8th grade volleyball game and then more hunting.
Damn. I am busy.
Lucky me
The most perplexing question in my life right now is the one of why would anyone transfer into a daily class 10 days into the semester. Suddenly in Spanish 111 we have three or four new students with little or no spanish, who are behind, who are slowing the rest of us down, except for Older Smoking Lady.
Thanks to them, Instructor Jimmy is now going to push the test back to Thursday. Thank you to all the slow people as now my plans for Thursday are officially shot, I think.
Thursday is the first day of dove season. But thanks to Spanish, the radio, a meeting with my editor and an 8th grade volleyball game. Yes, teenage girls screaming at the top of their lungs. I can already feel a headache starting.
Oh well, it's the price of being a good brother.
Letters
I liked this idea from Bex, so I'm going to borrow it.
Dear Older Smoking Lady in Spanish,
They're called Certs. Since you seem to be saving money on shampoo by not washing your hair, perhaps you could buy yourself some Certs. You sit five feet away from me and everyday I can smell what seems to be a rubber fire coming from your mouth. Please spare me your rotten corpse like breath. I think I will be the first ever candidate for lung cancer from secondhand smoker's breath.
Rust
Dear Walmart Sporting Goods department,
Is it really a must to put the most unqualified person back there in sporting goods? Do you look at applications and say "Well, they don't know a thing about outdoor activities, let's give them a shot at the counter?" Is it really that hard to ask someone who would be better qualifed in cosmetics, "Hey, can you work in sporting goods?" or "Do you know anything about the outdoors?"
Thanks,
rusty
Dear WSU,
You bastards in billing need to take a sharpened pencil and jam it in your eye. That way you know the pain the rest of us feel when we see our bills that have a $55 special fee on it. Also, the phrase "our classes run about $125 per credit hour" needs to be revalutated as I have NO classes that cost about that. All of mine cost over $135 per credit hour.
Taking it in the shorts,
rj
Dear Older Smoking Lady again,
One more thing, when you're picking up your Certs, do you think you could grab some Q-tips as well? You're slowly making the rest of us dumber as you just don't listen to anything our teach says.
Slowly dying in Span 111,
Rusty
Dear City of New Orleans,
Just wanted to say, your founders must have been semi-retarded since they didn't follow the old children's song about building your house upon the sand. Nice move as Katrina is about to demolish the Cajun Capital.
(Insert French good bye here)
Rusty
Dear All College Volleyball teams,
Thank you most of the time for the shorts you wear.
RJ
Dear Weatherbug,
Hey, I live in Kansas, so when I click on the radar tab on the weather window, I expect to be taken to radar, NOT to storm central. Get that shit fixed yo.
Dumbasses,
Rusty
Borrowed from Bev
Much love to Bev who always has a survey handy when I'm out of things to post.
1) My uncle once: battled me over a stroller. I'm still winning that war.
2) Never in my life: have I ever tried any drugs. I'm pretty boring that way.
3) When I was five: I owned kindergarten.
4) High School was: All in all, a blast. Lots of fun, lots of friends depsite all the mean things that those bastards did to me.
5) I will never forget: the night the house burned down..
6) I once met: man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today, I wish, I wish he'd go away. (i'll keep this one. It's just too cool.)
7) There's this girl I know who: who probably has a crush on me, but i'm too dense to see it.
8) Once, at a bar: I got in an arguement with a patron.
9) By noon I'm usually: at school educating myself in spanish.
10) Last night: it stormed like a mo'fo and more is heading this way.
11) If I only had: a stronger arm.
12) Next time I go to church: will be before Christmas.
13) Terry Schiavo: is a prime example of something. I don't know what though.
14) I have a confession to make: I probably committed felony theft.
15) When I turn my head left, I see: cds, notes, assorted papers and powerade bottles
16) When I turn my head right, I see: more cds, more notes, a mini tape recorder and more assorted papers
17) You know I'm lying when:HA! No one can tell.
18) Everyday, I constantly think about: sports of some form.
19) If I was a character written by Shakespeare, I'd be: Puck.
20) By this time next year: I'll still be getting screwed by WSU.
22) I have a hard time understanding : cars. I suck at mechanics.
23) If I ever go back to school I'll: become a teacher of journalism
24) You know I like you if: if I talk to you on a constant level
25) If I won an award, the first person I'd thank would be: whomever gave me the award. nothing helps like a little butt kissing.
26) Darwin, Mozart, Slim Pickens & Geraldine Ferraro: 5!! (We proved that 5 actually equals "What the hell?" by using complex math.
27) Take my advice, never: try to shoot a pheasant while in the process of crossing an electric fence.
28) My ideal breakfast is: what is this breakfast you speak of?
29) A song I love, but do not have is: I have all the ones i like.
30) If you visit my hometown, I suggest : going to wichita.
31) Tulips, character flaws, microchips & track stars: this is sure getting philosophical all of the sudden.
32) Why won't anyone : order the springs for my gun.
33) If you spend the night at my house : be ready for the unexpected.
34) I'd stop my wedding for : HAHAHAHA that implies that I'm getting married. Two words: Lost cause.
35) The world could do without : posionous spiders.
36) I'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: kissing a cottonmouth.
37) My favorite blonde is : anyone hot whom i have a chance with? so that's not many.
38) Paper clips are more useful than: staples sometimes.
39) If I do anything well, it’s : cooking.
40) And by the way: I can iron too.
41) The last time I was drunk, I: august 6th and 7th.
Look at me
You are Woodstock!
Which Peanuts Character are You? brought to you by Quizilla
Day Two
was a near disaster.
We played like ass. It felt like my swing was likened to a one armed man trying to kill a snake in a phone booth. Nothing felt right with my clubs so I wasn't exactly a factor.
Our team was two strokes back from the leaders. Pretty tough to make ground up from that but we were going to try.
Or so we thought.
For 11 holes we sucked rotten goat balls. We were only one under par as we stood at a literal and figurative crossroads in our day. The three of us stood at the bottom of the hill, wondering exactly if we should go continue or if we should Withdraw (WD) and go home.
Our mitigating factors:
1. We were sucking. Nothing was going right for us.
2. It was warm. Not hot as in cook-eggs-on-the-sidewalk hot, but very humid. It wasn't the type of humidity that you just sweat buckets, but rather the type that you're always damp from sweating. No wind and we were walking this up and down course (mainly because we weren't going to pay $35 bucks for one cart.)
3. We had no beer.
We made an executive desicion to go ahead and stay and play despite not having any beer. Something clicked and we tore it up. Things went right as we went 6 under in the last three holes to finish the day at 7 under, 12 under for the tourney.
How did we finish?
One stroke out of the money. It's par for the course that we finish one stroke out of the money. The day our threesome actually wins money is the day when the world crashes to a halt.
A new record
was set this morning
At 6:43 this morning, we cracked open the first beer. I think that's easily the earliest time we've ever cracked one open, when not having been up all night drinking from the night before.
It was indeed the pinnacle of our summer golf season, the annual Hillsboro-Marion 3-man scramble. For some reason, Chris wore panties all day and only drank two beers while Tim and I polished off 14 of the remaining 16 frost brewed goodnesses.
We didn't play too bad, but we may have screwed ourselves as we shot 5 under par. I thought 4 would be a good score to shoot, but I figured 6 down would be too low. Now it sounds like we're at the ass end of first flight, but we suspect we're only two shots off the pace.
More to come tomorrow.
Why me?
I've always wondered why they ask me to do it. When I say "it" I mean run things such as pools or fantasy football leagues. "Hey Rus, why don't you put together a pool?" or "We need you to run our fantasy football league."
Like a dumbass, I say yes. So now I'm incharge of two fantasy football leagues.
I'm a dumbass.
Move along here
Nothing to see here people.
The Family Outing Weekend
So this was our annual family outing weekend as the title suggests it was. We always try to plan something like this every year which includes, lake all day, motel in the evening, lake the following day. For almost the last decade, I have managed to skip out on the event. Something was always happening or I couldn't get off.
This year, I decided to go. It must have been me as the boat was never taken off the trailer. We finally headed out from town about 11 heading north. By the time we got to the lake, the temp had fallen off of the table and was hovering about 70. No one wanted to go to the water as it was rather chilly. Throw in the clouds, some mist and even some rain and you have our Saturday.
So as an entire pack of nearly rabid animals, we adjourned to the mall in Salina. Most of us went to a movie, then we messed around the mall for a while. We did go back to the lake, cooked our supper and then called it good so back to the motel we went.
This morning, Dad, myself, my uncle John and aunt Lori got up to about 55 degrees weather and headed to the golf course. On number 9, Lori got the call that everyone called it good and headed home.
But, we did laugh a lot.
Golfing etiquitte and women
The first rule of golfing etiquitte is to let faster players play through. It's been that way for years, centuries, eons. It's just a courtesy thing you can do, if you're playing in a slow group to let a faster group play through. You can be a bad golfer, yet play fast. I know that, because I am bad golfer that can play fast.
Anyways, my father took a day's vacay today with the intention of playing some golf with me. We decided to travel the 26 miles to Hillsboro for a "practice round" since our big tourney is coming up next weekend. We teed off at about 9.
In golf, it's all a matter of concept. If you believe you're playing slow, you are playing slow. Dad and I were stuck behind this threesome of senior ladies all about 60+ whom had carts. Usually even with carts, slow players especially slow women will let faster groups play through. I've never had the problem of waiting because 99% of all the women are good about letting groups through.
Today, was the one percent.
We waited every stinking shot. Granted we played in about 3 hours, but it still felt like we were out there for forever and a day. I utterly loathe slow golf. I can't find a rythym because I've always like to tee up, practice swing, hit, walk to my ball, practice swing or two, hit, walk, etc. Now throw in hit, walk, wait, and you have my morning. What really killed me was the fact that by the 12th hole, there was NO ONE infront of them that they had to wait on.
As we were walking off the 11th green, one of them had the gall to say, "We'd let you play through but there's really no where for you to go, being that there's the threesome in front of us, and the walkers infront of them."
My brain almost exploded. I felt the blood vessels in my brain contract, which led me to believe this is exactly how anyersums happen. Who the fuck was she to be dictating pace of play? I didn't see her marshal badge. Plus, they were almost a hole behind by now. Sure we could have caught the other ladies group in front of us. I wanted to explode with the firery rage of 1000 suns, but with an amazing display of self control, I forced a smile and put my clubs down so I couldn't resort to violence.
This was coming from the lady who had just hit it into a tree 15 yards to the left of the tee box, and it bounced BACK into a creek.
GAH!!! Let us go through dammit.
I will say that I don't have a problem playing slow when I'm playing with someone bad and helping them with their swing. But two seasoned golfers should at least be given the option of playing through.
Set up
I admit it, I am a prankster. I love a good joke. I love a good practical joke. I love to scare people. There is definitely an art to setting up and pulling off a great prank. Creativity is a big bonus.
And now, no one can say that I don't take jokes well when they are pulled on me.
My hat goes off to my co-ed softball team. They nailed me well. It's been a long time since I've been set up like that. Tonight was our final game of the summer session of co-ed softball. My sister wanted everyone to have everyone out to her place for a cookout after the game, win or lose. It just so happens that we won, 19-14 so spirits were high. After I beat Jar's ass in the foot race, we ate. We were all chilling around outside, laughing and carrying on, when my mom said she was ready to go. I took her back into town, dropped her off and proceeded back to Mindy's. I got back and Mindy asked me where my cell phone was, which I had left out in my Exploder. When I went outside, I fired up one of Jar's cherry cigars. His wife asked me if I had my phone on me, to which I responded "No, I can get it." She told me not to worry about it. I sat down and Josh asked me if he could try my cigar. I said sure and handed him my cigar.
At the same time, Jarrett had moved around with a Gott cooler that had ice water in it, and to my belief beer. I didn't even notice until it was too late that the people on my right had moved away. Jar wheeled and dumped the freaking ice cold water all over me in crude tribute to gatorade showers done during football. It was so cold, I couldn't even finish my thoughts. I laughed along with the rest of them and tried to speak, but I had ice in my shorts. It was something like "Oh you guys got me-holy shit that's cooooold." It was pretty funny and I took it like a champ.
They got me well.
Payback is a bitch though. ;)
Ten Years Gone
Ten years.
Ten freaking years.
A decade.
Three thousand six hundred fifty-three days. (3653)
That's how long it has been since I graduated high school. Today was my 10-year reunion. Although the planning was a bit hectic and slightly thrown together, it turned out to be a rather good time. Actually, it was a great time.
My high school class had a grand total of 55 people in it. Rather small when you think about it, but perfectly set up for a reunion. The concept was a laid-back affair at a private campsite about 10 minutes from town. There was a keg and people were to bring their own food. Personally I thought it was a great idea.
Jenn, one of the two from my class who lives in Chi-town, told some of her friends that she was coming back for her 10-year and their reactions were "Ewww.." until Jenn told them we were partying by a pond with a keg. That's when they thought it was a great idea. The setting was such low key that we were able to relax in this shelter-type thing. I think between 20-22 of our class showed up. By 4:00 the keg was starting to float and it had only been tapped for two-and-a-half hours. I do wish some of the no shows had shown up. Oh well, maybe for our 15 year.
My face hurts but it's from laughing so hard.
Gifted, graceful, amazing, all rolled into one
So this morning, I woke up and my shoulder hurt. I actually chuckled because I knew the reason why, of course.
We had softball practice with my co-ed team last night. Nothing major, just hitting, shagging flies and fielding grounders. Anyways, someone hit a fly ball out to me. It was a shallow fly so I tore off in, towards the ball. I was running full speed but it looked like the ball was just going to be a bit short so I tried reaching for it.
Somehow, I got my balance all screwed up. I went down with the intention of sliding on the grass like they do in the majors, all graceful like. There wasn't anything graceful about what I did. I don't know how I did it, but instead of going forward, I went pretty well straight down and straight down hard. It was almost a faceplant. In fact, it was a faceplant. A faceplant of epic proportions because I bounced. Literally bounced. Then I saw stars.
I don't know when I hit my shoulder. I think it was before the bounce because I had a grass stain on my shirt. I tore open a scab on my knee because I had blood running all the way down my leg to my sock in a fairly steady trickle. It didn't exactly tickle.
I swear, sometimes I am the most graceful amazing person that walks, or rather crashes into things on this planet
The ol' ball park
About 40 minutes away, located in the heart of Wichita, is Lawrence Dumont Stadium. It's home of the Wichita Wranglers, the Double-A farm club of the fairly defunct Kansas City Royals.
But for two weeks during the summer, the Wranglers head on a major road trip and in comes the National Baseball Congress. The NBC is a semi-pro baseball league made up of college players, college grads and people who just play the game to play the game. It's a fairly major affair as often times, behind home plate, there are scouts with radar guns, notebooks, pens, jotting down notes here and there. They play with wooden bats, kind of a hats-off throwback to the days of old.
Last night was a perfect night. A bit warm, but the smell of peanuts, grilled food from the concession stands wafted through the air on the warm summer breeze. People chatting idly in the stands, applauding good plays, booing bad calls. Teeny-boppers walking the aisles searching for friends or looking to meet new ones. Kids scrambling for foul balls. Vendors prowling the stands selling their wares. Good friends laughing over a shared joke. Strangers striking up a conversation during the games that lasts for the entire ball game. All punctuated with the crack of the bat.
Even though the players aren't that familiar, it's a great time.
