It's F**king cold outside!

Ever since Dec. 26th, 2010, it has snowed at least once per week in NY. That might be a good thing around the holidays, because it's still the holiday season, and everyone feels all soft and warm and the snow enhances the festive atmosphere. However, it's the last week of January, and that shit is getting old. I'm sick and tired of waking up to clean up my sidewalk and driveway. I'm tired of piling new snow on top of not-yet-melted old snow. And now that the temperature is reaching single digits, cleaning snow has gone from something I just hate doing to actually being kind of dangerous with all the ice. Now I gotta go to bed to rest up for the latest 8-inch serving in the morning. Mother Nature, if you're listening, I hate you. Bitch.

This God-forsaken Economy

It's been over two months since I was gainfully employed, and right now it looks as if there's no relief in sight. My connects can't connect, and my contacts aren't contacting me. I've seriously contemplated pursuing a position in "pharmaceutical" sales. Would I be wrong? I mean, a man's gotta eat right? I've got a business mind, so I think I've got an edge on the average street hustler. If you see me pushing the new R8, don't ask any questions.

Yet Another Reason to Love Gus Johnson

If you know me, you know I love Basketball. I love playing it, I love watching it. In my hierarchy of sports events, March Madness easily ranks #1 (Unless Virginia Tech makes it to a National Championship game...more on that during football season). And a key factor to March Madness, is Gus Johnson.

If you aren't aware of who Gus Johnson is...just watch this:



No one on this earth is more excited to be calling basketball games than Gus Johnson, except maybe Dick Vitale. I'm pretty sure the world would explode if Gus Johnson and Dick Vitale were to call a UNC-Duke National Championship game that went into OT.

Anyway, I am a fan of all things Gus Johnson. Try this:

http://www.gusjohnsongetsbuckets.com/

I've spent hours upon hours on that site, playing around.

Pause...

Which brings us to the point of this post. In the wake of talking about the recent episode of the Boondocks, "Pause," Jay brought this to my attention earlier today:




Let's let that sink in for a second.


Are you kidding me? Gus Johnson, the most professional use of "Pause" ever. With Spike Lee no less....

It's official, I want Gus Johnson to cover every major event in my life: my wedding, my movie premiers, the birth of my children. The man is simply amazing.



....Pause.

Wait...what's this blog doing here?

You know how you have things from the past that you pack up in boxes. Yearbooks that go in the back of the closet. Notebooks that go in the drawer. Awards and certificates that get stuck in some textbook and hidden away when you come home from college. Then years later, you need some space, so you start going through the boxes, looking to rid yourself of the clutter. What happens is you get lost in the nostalgia. You start reading your yearbook, or admiring the doodles from your Trig notebook. You start remembering the feeling of getting the certificate for that award that has been long forgotten.

That's how I feel about this blog. A bunch of us from College decided to start a blog together, to document a formative time in our lives, and to keep in touch. Of course, life got in the way, and the posts fell off. Well a number of us got together over the July 4th weekend, and it reminded me how great these guys were and how important this time in our lives are. The discussions we had also reminded me of the great points of view we all have, that should be shared with the world (or, you know, whoever will read this.) So...I've decided to try to restart the blog. Since the last posting, over a year ago, a lot has changed. Hopefully one of those things will be our ability to keep up with a blog.

It's worth a shot.

Formerly Employed

It's been a (very fast) week since my separation from the corporate harness, and I've never had so much work to do, nor have I ever felt so much pressure to get it done, and done quickly.  It's amazing how much more important my day-to-day activities have become now that they have a direct link to my income.  I like it... it makes me a lot more productive and a lot more creative, but, sadly, it does little to stem the tide of procrastination.  So here I am, in the wee hours, taking a break from this ProAnalyst deck and website (which should be up by the end of the weekend).

Lots of fresh content in the pipeline as well... as it is given life, there will be more writing.

Blog my ass!!

Damn near 4 months w/o a post?!  C'mon fellas, we gotta do better!

Men are from Mars, Women are from Uranus (or some other ungodly location)

I find it hard to believe that no one has posted about the one thing that can bring down all men on the grind: Women.  Women can sometimes be the scourge of the universe.  A wise man once said that "the road to Hell is paved with buying shit for girls."  I'd like to amend that statement by saying that the road Hell is paved with women.  Period.  This shit is unreal.  I don't think there's a woman on Earth who can go 48 hours without bitching and moaning about something that seems insignificant or not that serious.  Said woman follows the introductory bitching session with more bitching about how your calm nature (most men don't freak out at random bs) translates to you not caring about her tiny problem that somehow has become the worst thing ever to occur to any human being that has ever lived.  I sometimes think that women were put on this Earth to drive men to madness.  They my be part of some major alien plan to eradicate all of humanity.  The funny thing is, it's not just dumb girls anymore.  Now they have taken the form of femme-bots (that's right), who come across as extra cool and void of any dumb girl qualities,  until you let your guard down, and then BAM!  They hit you where it hurts with the previously outlined whining and complaining.  Unfortunately, we (of the non-homosexual background) are forced to deal with this plague called estrogen on a daily basis, and there is nothing that can be done about it.  I long for a return to the caveman days, where any craziness was responded to with a swift club shot to the temple.  Stupid beiches.