Cops roll deep in Bed Stuy....

Post fire, Brooklyn, NY

House fire, Brooklyn, NY

MORE WINTER IN UPSTATE NEW YORK

Experiments with my new camera...

Here are some of my first shots with my new camera, a Canon EOS Rebel T1I 15.1 MP Digital Camera.  Many more to follow...

"The Game"

Since nothing really exciting has been going on in my life lately I will delve into the old memory bank and talk to you about my first introduction to "the game" and inform you on how it is ruining my life, and maybe yours if you continue to read on.... (consider yourself warned)

Again, I must take you back to Myrtle Beach, no not the time when I was coerced into doing a naked swan dive into 3 inches of water which resulted in my snaggle-tooth, this Myrtle that I am talking about is exactly one year after the aforementioned Myrtle.  As I already have talked about in my previous blog, all of the F&M campus migrates down to Myrtle Beach at the end of the year for some quality boozing, beaching, and bad decision-making, and it was here in Myrtle, this past May, where a freshman on my soccer team, Krem-de-la-Krem, told me about "the game" and subsequently ruined my life.  (warning #2)

So, my roommates and I are all sitting around our hotel room listening to music and doing a little bit of drinking before we go down to the beach and this is where Kremer decides that he has to tell us all about "the game".  We are all excited.  "Yeah we want to hear about the game, Do you want to hear about the game? Yeah I totally do too.  I'm totally going to win, I'm really good at games, lets here it, I'm excited, what is it? How do I win?"  But NO! This is not that kind of game.  There are really no winners in this game.  There are only two real places to be in this game: losing, or waiting to lose.  I know you are probably a little confused at this point but be patient, everything will be explained in time.  Actually, all will be explained right now.

Okay so here is how "the game" works.  First, everyone is playing.  Once you learn about the game you are in.  And by "in" I mean that you never stop playing "the game" EVER...  So basically at this point you are in whether you like it or not.  Alright, so the object of "the game" is not to think of "the game".  If you do happen to think of "the game" then you lose.  But, this is a gentleman's and gentlewoman's game so if you do think of "the game" then you have to tell the people you around that you thought of "the game" and concede your defeat.  But, that is not the end of it.  Once the sorry soul does confess to thinking about "the game" then it starts all over again.  As this is a gentleman's and gentlewoman's game it is polite and proper to give a 10-15 minute rest period where people can gradually stop thinking of "the game" before it really starts again because obviously once the first person thinks about "the game" and tells those around them then obviously everyone is forced to be thinking about it.  The 10-15 minute lay period helps with getting "the game" out of peoples mind before the game officially begins again.  And that's all there is to it.  Don't think of "the game".  Easy enough right?  I thought so too, at first that is.

At first, I was like okay this isn't so hard.  This is easy.  I'm not going to think of the game.  We start drinking some more, blah blah blah, someone that wasn't in "the game" convo walks into the room and asks what game is on the television.  A perfectly ordinary question but what do we all think about?  Yes, "the game".  This was the start of "the game" ruining my life.  For the rest of the time at Myrtle we were all constantly thinking about the game, especially with the amount of sports and games we were playing out on the beach, and all of the drinking games that occurred on the trip, every time the word game was uttered I immediately thought of "the game".  In my mind I just kept thinking that "the game" would slowly start fading and I would soon be game free, but boy was I wrong, and I really can only blame myself.

I amused me greatly to tell new people about "the game" at really terrible times to hear about "the game" for the first time.  So, a week after returning home from Myrtle I was invited down to my friend Ryan's house for her graduation party, along with my other friends John, TJ, Bush, and Diane and we all decided to ride together.  Oh, Ryan lives in Lancaster, PA and we all live in Sauquoit, NY which makes it a five hour car ride...  So we start driving and about 45 minutes into the drive someone asks if we should play the "alphabet game," a much more sane game then "the game" and everyone agrees.  The only problem is that when I hear the word game I thought of "the game" and because no one in the car had heard about "the game" before I thought it was the perfect time to tell them all.  So I describe the game to them, but then I did something that Kremer had not done, which made the game 10x worse for all of us.  Once I described it, I then went on to tell them that they were going to think of the game in the most random of places and will soon start to really hate "the game" as it will take over their lives.  But I took it one step farther.  I started naming places that they were going to think of "the game" because I thought it would be funny to name really random things that people do so that when they did them they would think of "the game".  So, I was like, yeah you are going to be CODing (Call of Dutying) it up and think of "the game".  Or you will be brushing your teeth every morning and when you look up into the mirror after spitting out the tooth paste you are going to think of it.  Or, every time you cut your toe nails.  I was giving all of these examples partly to be an asshole, but I was also trying to show them how random it is when the game pops into your brain, which really sucks.  Then I said just imagine you will all be laying on your deathbed many centuries from now and just before you take your last breath you are going to think of "the game".  I might have gone too far with that one because we all sat there for a moment then I thought about how awful that actually would be.  I'm 207 with all of my 13 son's standing around my bed, my 33 grandchildren, and my 2 young baby great grandchildren all sitting around my bed and instead of thinking about how large and amazing my family is I am going to be thinking, "FUCK YOU KREMER!".  I just lost "the game" and that is why "the game" is slowly but surely ruining my life.

The rest of the trip, the entire car was pretty angry with me because they all kept thinking of "the game".  And by the end of the trip I'm pretty sure they all were no longer my friend, especially Bush, because "the game" really hit a soft spot with him.  He was the driver, and for the record also the most level-headed person of the whole bunch, but for whatever reason he could not get "the game" out of his head. ("the game" accepts all colors, creeds, intelligence levels, etc. which is part of its charm, you never know who it will really get)  By the end of the trip, in the car ride home, we would all be sitting in silence listening to music or whatever else people do in 5-hour car rides and Bush would just let out a large sigh and look really sad.  We started picking up on these sighs and when we asked him what was wrong he just said, "the game".  He couldn't get the game out of his head.  He said that he was thinking about "the game" for the entire car ride home.... continuously.  I felt a little bad, but mostly I just laughed...

Now, it has been many months since my first introduction and I am still amazed at the complete randomness of the times I think of it.  tying my shoes in the morning, listening to Miley Cyrus's "Party in the USA", eating upside down pepperoni pizza from Grande's, eating a push-pop, getting my tooth fixed at the dentist, washing my grundle in the shower, you name it I've probably thought of "the game" doing it.

In conclusion, that is "the game" and do with it what you will.  For some people it doesn't really affect them and they really don't get it or care to partake, but for others it really does sink in.  I hope I don't ruin anyone else's lives by introducing them to this game but I had nothing else to talk about so this is what you got(and secretly I really do hope it does so I am not the only one living in misery).  Also, as a side note, for best results in getting other people with "the game" I suggest doing it situations that require lots of time in confined places with not much to do (i.e. long car rides), or with people under the influence (I'll leave this one ambiguous).

THE GAME

YOU LOSE

PS if anyone has any completely random places that they have thought of or think of the game it would be funny to hear them so post a comment if you have any good ones.

TJ added: any songs by the doors, death, Diane talking, whenever someone says, "Guess what?"

Where Are You Tooth Fairy?

 This might be the first time in my life that I have ever really wished that a mythical being from the fairy tales told to me as a toddler was real.  Sorry to burst anyones bubble that still believe in Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny or the Stinky Cheese Man.  Ya know what? If you wish hard enough maybe they will come to life just like Tyra Banks did in Life Size (fantastic movie btw).  Also, another side note, if you are from the Sauquoit area and know Mike Fadel, formerly seen around the science halls in the middle school but has since left, was recently on the Tyra Show and got shot down by Tyra during a "singles mixer" episode.  It's on Youtube, check it out, funny stuff.

Anyways, back to my wishing for the fairy tales to be real.  I really wish the Tooth Fairy was real, just with a slight twist.  Contrary to what some of you may be thinking, I am not still losing teeth and I do not want the Tooth Fairy to come to my room when I am sleeping and take my tooth and leave a $1.  No sir, I want this Tooth Fairy to come and give me back the bottom half of my front tooth that is now gone.  To give you the picture, I basically look like Carrot Top minus the steroids and oddly dark skin mixed with Lloyd from Dumb and Dumber.  Not a great combination, I know.  

To be accurate and thorough in telling you the story of my chipped tooth I must take you back about a year and a half to a place called Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.  At the end of every Spring Semester at Franklin and Marshall much of the campus pack up their bathing suits and beer helmets and embark on a 4-5 trip down to Myrtle Beach to unwind from the year and enjoy the nice weather and beach before returning back to F&M for graduation.  So, as my Junior Year ended at Franklin and Marshall I, along with all of my roommates and soccer team, made our way down to Myrtle.  The first 2 1/2 days went swimmingly, no pun intended, and we were all having a great time.  Then came the mini golf match that was the turning point in my little mini vaca down in Myrtle.  Actually, first came me waking up the day after the mini golf match and then the story was retold to me by the rest of the gang in our hotel room and my unfortunate partner, G (What up South Africa. Thanks for being a follower G, I love you) .  Okay, so I wake up, a little dreary and I see the face of dread on G's face waiting for me in the living room of our place.  So he commences to tell me the story of the mini golf massacre in two part harmony, with the 8x10 colored, glossy pictures with arrows, and a paragraph on the back of each one describing its significance.  Slowly it began coming back to me, and by slowly I mean really not at all, but I believed G and the pictures didn't lie.  What had happened was that G and I, two drunk kids took on two of our friends (sober) in a mini golf match.  The losers had to run (clothing excluded) from the sand dunes at the beach down into the water at midday in front of everyone that just so happened to be enjoying a nice time down at the water. Needless to say, G and I lost the match and that came to me like a slap in the face.  It hurt! And it hurt bad!  I argued that we had been taken advantage of, but it was to no avail, and to be honest a bet is a bet is a bet and that must be honored.  It was set in stone.  We were going to have to go ahead and do the dance.

So, we prepared ourselves, as any college kids would when gearing up to do something really stupid.  We grabbed a bite to eat, stretched out, cut our toenails, trimmed up our manscapes, and consumed an inordinate amount of alcohol.   So 12 o clock rolled around, 1 o clock, 2 o clock and then we were finally ready.  We began the shameful walk down to the beach, followed by a large gathering of "so-called friends" that were just along to see us make complete fools out of ourselves.  Once down at the beach, the "so-called friends" of ours rounded up as many people as they could down at the beach and created a gauntlet for us to run down and we headed up into the dunes.  Once we got into our nakedness, we started sprinting out of the dunes and running through the spectators as they yelled and screamed at us.  We made it through and just as our feet hit the water and we took a few steps into the ocean we both jumped to dive and this is when it happened.  My chin rammed itself into the sand smashing my lower jaw into my upper jaw and CRACK!!!  A lower chunk in the corner of my tooth was gone.  I knew it as soon as it happened.  I arose out of the water and turned to G and gargled through some salt water, "I justh chipthed my toofth, I justh chipthed my toofth."  So once back in a bathing suit and back up to the hotel room I checked the mirror and sure enough there I was a toothless man.  The pain was excruciating and every time anything, and I do mean anything including liquid, food, or even air, touched the newly exposed parts of my tooth a shooting pain surged through my body.  I couldn't believe it.  So the rest of the 2 days on the trip I was forced to push through the pain and eat and drink although the pain was pretty extreme.

Once Myrtle was over and I returned home after graduation at F&M I had the unfortunate task of informing my parents of how stupid there son was.  So I told the story of why I was there slurring my language and drooling out of the crack in my tooth, minus a few details, that I felt they did not need to know about, and they were actually very relaxed about the entire situation.  It actually was not that big of a deal.  I was in college so I still had dental insurance so we made the call over to the tooth doctor and set the appointment to fix up my snaggle-tooth.  And up until about 3 days ago, this is where my tooth story ended.  Me, walking into the future with a full set of incisors restored in my mouth, and the ending credits beginning to scroll up the screeen, a song beginning to play, and a quick fade to black... THE END.

But, alas, it was not so because the missing tooth saga was to return to me just as swiftly as a boomerang does to an Aussie, although it took a solid year and a half to come full circle.  But full circle it came nonetheless, and this is what brings us back to the present narrative of this story.  About 2 days ago I was enjoying a nice productive day, which for those of you who know me and my current situation as a post-grad degenerate is about as frequent as an eclipse of the sun, so I was enjoying my newfound fruitfulness.  I woke up at 6:27 to my alarm, showered, and got ready for a fun-filled day of substitute teaching at Sauquoit.  The school day went smoothly, and I returned home and relaxed for a while at home watching tv and winding down from a tough day at work (Note: subbing is the easiest gig ever...haha).  Anyways, after relaxing for a bit I decide that I am going to make some dinner for the family.  And I can cook assholes.  Someone on facebook, who will go unnamed for the time being, answered a question about me that asked if they thought I could cook and they said no.  F U!  I am a great cook.  I was really in the mood for some rice so I cooked up some rice and then I did a stir-fry of some grilled chicken, onions, peppers, and my own special blend of spices (mostly cayenne because I love spicy foods) and then mixed it all into the rice to create a jambalaya of sorts just as my mom and dad were walking in the door.  They also through in a California Pizza Kitchen flatcrust margherita pizza, and by they I mean my mom did, who is not the best with cooking (sorry mom), and she forgot to put a timer on for the pizza.  As the time passed my dad realized that my mom had not put the timer on the oven for the pizza and asked my mom how long the pizza had been in.  She nonchalantly said about 2 minutes, but after the fact we came to the conclusion that it was most likely closer to 5-6 minutes, and my dad put the timer on for what he thought would be the remainder of the time.  However, when the timer went off and I went to pull the pizza out of the oven it was very over-cooked and came out pretty burnt and really crunchy.  If you are reading this and think you are figuring out where this is going, well you are right.  We didn't throw the pizza out, mistake #2 after the timer incident, and we cut the pizza up and each took a slice.  My mom took a bite, she seemed pleased because nothing really phases her when it comes to foods, my dad took a bite, he seemed mildly pleased and I could tell he had somehow managed to get through the burnt taste and taste a bit of the pizza within, and then it was my turn.  So, I picked up my slice and went in for a bite that would change my life forever, fooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeevvvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrr.  (Anyone know that reference? Everyone should).  Actually that was a bit dramatic because it didn't change my life forever but, what it did do was crack the filling on my upper incisor that had previously been fixed up after my Myrtle incident, and I knew it right away.  I felt the crunch of the pizza and then I felt the crunch of something very different in my mouth.  It was the crunch of my teeth crushing my tooth...  I just put my head down, dropped the slice of pizza, and said, "FUCK!"  My parents both looked up, "What?," they said.

"I just chipped my tooth... again," I said.  And it was so.  The filling that had once been there was gone and I again had a snaggle-tooth.  I was so pissed and the reason wasn't just because I chipped the tooth but it was because I no longer had dental insurance, or health insurance for that matter (and probably never will thanks to Joe "Brutus" Lieberman and those damn Republicans who don't want to help out the some 40 million Americans who are currently uninsured... sorry I digress)  that would easily cover such a cost.  So now here I sit, talking to you about my current situation.  It's a Saturday, and it has now 2 full days since I chipped my tooth and I am still missing a big chunk of it.  And although I did find out that to fix my tooth up again it will only cost about $100, that's still $100 thats coming right out of my pocket, which is not fun for anyone.  I will probably be making the call to the dentist on Monday and see when we can get this taken care of.

Although, the more I wait the more I think about maybe keeping the tooth as is.  Or better yet maybe just getting a big gold cap to replace my damaged tooth.  I feel that it could be a character builder or at least a conversation starter out at a bar.  So, that is the story of why I wish there was a Tooth Fairy that gave me a new tooth for free, or atleast took my broken tooth and gave me $100 instead of $1 to get this shit fixed.  

This time I will not say that I am ending the tooth story saga, but rather I will say that this new chapter is coming to a close.  Until the next time that I do something stupid that ends with me breaking my tooth again, which I fear will not be very long, I bid you all ado.  

(KEEP READING MY BLOG AND BECOME A FOLLOWER.  I HAVE 5 FOLLOWERS NOW! WHO IS GOING TO BE NUMBER 6?  THE NUMBER 6 FOLLOWER WILL GET A SPECIAL GIFT FROM YOURS TRULY SO WHO IS IT GOING TO BE!?!?!?!?!?!  MAYBE YOU!!! haha)