Making People Dumber One Post At A Time

So I was thinking about this the other day. I need to have some sort of structure to the Blog, some sort of posting schedule if you will. I'm always the person that feels bad for people. Maybe not when I'm drunk, apparently after hearing about what I said to the poor guy that wanted to beat me up, but in general. I feel bad for the people that come onto this site, and see that nothing new has been posted. I get sort of upset when I go to a blog or another site and things aren't updated. I want new and I want it now. So I'm going to tentatively say that, since this is when I normally post, that I will come out with something new, whether it's good or not, whether Mr. T gave me the reach around or not, that I will come out with something new on Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. That seems to be when I do my best work. Tuesdays is really just the beginning of the week, trying to figure out what's going on, any retractions needed from any weekend details, etc. Fridays really just to set up the weekends goings ons and anything that I missed or conversations from the week, or any other rumblings going on in the big head that is mine. And then Sundays to talk about the hangover or anything else. Like this weekend is the Super Bowl. I won't talk about it, but maybe the party I go to, or something like that. Who knows. I'm silly.

So I hope everyone is having a wonderful day, week so far. I'm going to a Christian Science School tomorrow, and me and L.Ron Hubbard are going to lunch. So that's exciting. Dianetics, read it. You're stressed. Haha. Kidding.

WOW! Sorry bout that!

So that's how I am when I'm drunk. I usually just have people tell me what I did and whatnot but this time I wrote it down. I'm lucky to be alive today. I was in full-out-Cregan-running-of-the-mouth last night. Don't even know what was said. Apparently, I almost got into a fight because as the street party wound down there were a group of people, guys and girls walking by and I said, "She is way to cute to be with that guy." Not meaning any harm and not thinking that I was talking that loud. It was the inner monologue coming out. Well that led to the girl and guy getting into a fight, he wanted to come back and kick my ass, etc. Whatever. If he can't take a joke, screw him. Another great thing about drinking to excess, the way that I did yesterday is checking the call log on the cell phone. It's great. Thinking, "damn, I don't remember talking to that person." And then the inevitable calls that come in saying, "man, you were slurring your speech last night," and not remembering even talking to that person. That's how I roll.

So anyway, I'm sorry to those that talked to me last night if I said anything stupid, like Deekle in your mouth, or "NAH MEAN!" I'm sorry for running my mouth to anyone. I'm sorry for everything dumb that I did. I mean no harm. "He's a big dumb animal folks." Thanks for putting up with me last night. You guys are the greatest. By having no phone battery left this morning means that I was on the phone a good deal. Sheesh.

I've got nothing else to add. It is days like yesterday that make me realize why I only drink one night/day a week. I overdo it sometimes and I can't do that twice in a weekend. Unless it's St. Patty's in Savannah!

Holla!

What's Better than Roses On Your Piano...

The title is a joke that I was just told. But I'm absolutely drunk. Shitfaced, drunk, drunk. I kissed her back, I guess. So it's 10:30 in the pm, and I want to sleep immediately. Like right now. I don't want to get my nuts off, don't cut my nuts off, please Robber. PLEASE DON'T CUT MY BALLS OFF. I love my balls. So I have 36 beers in me. I like being wrong. See I'm on the phone right now and everything I'm writing is from a conversation. No hotdog down the hallway. He does have a big head now, doesn't he. Wow! What a day/night I had. What a great day. I've told some people my story tonight and it's surreal really. I don't want to get back into it, but it was eventful. Alright, I'll relive it for you people. So Gasparilla was going on today. Gasparilla is a party in Tampa, similar to St. Patty's in Savannah or Mardi Gras in New Orleans only it's for one day only and it's a big drunk-fest. Needless to say, I par-took in the festivites. As I'm writing right now, I have the hiccups. No good. I hate them. My head is starting to hurt too. I'm a mess.

So I was at Gasparilla today with my boy Can'tMiss and I had to go hang out with some Clemson people. At about 2, when the parade started, I got to the party. Good times had by all. So later on, when I was trying to get back to home base, I had to pee. So when I got out of the pee-er, I saw a girl that I love, that I want to make out with all the time, well this day happenend to be that day apparently. So I say hello to her and she kisses me. I go along with it because I'm not one to argue. I don't argue with people, I'm non-confrontational. So things may be getting a little hot and heavy and I say, "dude" and she says, "dude" and then I say, "dude." So that great conversation ends up with her saying that she cannot "do what she wants to do because her boyfriend is there." Well the best part is that HE LOVES ME!!! It's not even human how much this kid loves me. So I laugh, because THATS HOW I ROLL! The next thing I know, I walk outside and they come out, boyfriend and all and he's all about me, talking to me wondering how I've been, yada yada. Knowing that I just kissed this girl. Sorry for those that want to make out with me that are reading, there's a lot of me to go around. I love smooching, I'll do it whenever is needed, it's the most fun EVER. I'm all about the BIG LETTERS tonight for some reason. It's like my fingers are all about the SHIFTKEY. Oh well, so where was I? Who cares, just running my mouth about something stupid I'm sure. I didn't mean to break up a relationship, just make out with girls. I want/need a meaningful relationship, but when people want to kiss me, I'm there to oblige. I just used the word 'oblige' and I don't know how or why I wrote that.

So anyway. That was my night. I've been on the phone with a number of people. Some I remember talking to, some I don't. Oh well, it happens.

So I got a call the other day telling me that you have to "log in" in order to make a comment here. So by me calling out to people saying that I needed some comments, I'm sorry. I don't really need comments, I was just being selfish in wanting to know that people are actually reading. But with the response that I got about the comments or lack thereof, there are plenty of people that actually read, so thank you for doing so.

I want to give a drunken shout out to Mr. T. Want to wish him a multiple fractured leg with his show. This is a week late. You see, he's doing a show at a community theater in Aiken, SC. I probably mentioned it earlier, but I'm drunk, so back the F off. God Bless that guy and everyone else that reads this. I appreciate your patronage. I don't even know what that word means. It's taken me two hours to type this. I'm going to bed now. BY MYSELF!!!! That's sad. It's not really. It's okay.

...Tulips on your Organ!!!! That's the punchline to the title of the BLOG! Thanks Smoke! That's all yours.

...Like Eating a Double Quarter Pounder...

First and foremost, I want to congratulate my buddy, Mister Mike T, that's formal on this thing, on the opening of his show in a city near Augusta, GA. The Foreigner is the title of the show and I remember in college reading the show and even seeing a 10-minute scene done from it, and remembered that it was relatively funny. That thought was somewhat shot to hell when talking with the T yesterday. He's not having the best experience with doing community theater. I've been yearning to get back into doing some acting, but haven't been able to put myself through the "beauty" that is community theater. If anyone out there is in community theater, please skip down to another post or paragraph or something, this one may hurt your egos...{Insert Jeopardy music while I wait for community theater people to take direction}...Ok, now I've only heard stories from the T man(three different names, one paragraph), but his description of some of the fellow actors/actresses reminds me of just about all of the people I've run into that have been "bigshots" in community theaters. Community theater is worse than high school theater. At my high school, it was a drama(sometimes comedy) in the fall and a musical in the spring. The musical was to see how many people the director could fit on the stage. I liked it because no one was ever cut from a play, but man, there were like 150 people on the stage for my senior year Joseph and the Amazing Tec.....you get the point. People in high school theater get a lot of congratulations from parents of others in the show, and it boosts ego. Then you get to college, and actors are better than you, and you get broken down in an acting class and only then really start to learn that you suck as an actor and have so much to learn. Well, that long-winded diatribe(big word Monday everybody) was to say that community theater people, in my estimation are the same. They have friends and family come to see the show and tell them how wonderful they are and they get cast in every show the theater is doing, and therefore think their poop don't stink. Well it stinks, and stinks bad. Community theater folk are the worst actors on the face of the earth, and what's worse, they're clique-y, they boost each other's egos, and that's not cool. I don't even remember where I was going with this paragraph, but I'm done and don't want to go back to check what I've written, I never did like proofreading.

So I was on the phone with another buddy last night who was telling me that he wanted to quit smoking, to which I thought was a great idea for him to do, and he said that he needed to hear something everytime he lit up a cigarette that made him feel like he's doing a bad thing(as he puffed on a cigarette while talking to me, I noticed hotshot.) He said that he needed to hear that "smoking one cigarette is equivalent to eating one double quarter pounder from McDonalds." That got me thinking. I think it's worse for the heart than that. The Double QP as my boys in East St. Louis say(I don't have boys in East St. Louis) will clog arteries, and the Tar whatnot stick to the lungs, stop the heart, you name it. So go ahead, clog up those arteries. I just liked the quote on the eating a double QP, so there. I've got nothing else for you on that front.

Yesterday there was a couple of football games on, and it got me thinking about what females that don't watch sports at all do on a day like that where there are two big games on and the boys are togething drinking some Coldbeer(one word, said really fast) and talking about football while watching football, and then I got a phone call from NJ. This one particular individual, I don't think I have a name for her quite yet, but something may come to me due to this story, she called at about 10:30pm. She was slightly inebriated and we laughed a lot and then it came out. I said, "What'd you do today? I know you didn't watch football." And then there it was, you ready for this? She responded, "me and 18 other girls had a SEX TOY PARTY." I told her that I wanted to be a fly on the wall when one of those things takes place, and then she went on to tell me that there are strictly no boys allowed. I was floored, not at the no boys allowed thing, but the fact that this is a common thing. This is like the fourth or fifth person that I've known who's had one of these things. And the way that she was talking, her's was probably the most fun one to be at. See, guys can't do those sort of things. We can't have sex toy parties because...I don't know why, we just can't. I mean, what the hell would we buy. She was talking about how friends of hers were buying "self-pleasuring devices" what do we buy?...um...hmm...really, I don't have the slightest idea. I mean if they had the Vivid Video Party, maybe then guys could sit around, eat good food, drink Coldbeer(again, one word said really fast.) I am intrigued by the sex toy party and have come to the realization that I will never be at one, but I just want to watch. Apparently, some of the ladies at the party may have shown some skin. I mean, that's just fun for the whole family right there.

So that was me in a nutshell yesterday. I really don't have anything else fun that happened this weekend. Drank a lot friday, but stayed up late enough to fully work off the drunkeness. That's not fun, if you ever have the opportunity to stay awake long enough for it to wear off, pass on that. Just go to bed, it's so much more relaxing and you don't feel like poop waking up at 12 or 1 in the afternoon. Then my boy Archie was in town with his wife, we did dinner on Saturday night, then my stomach went to hell again, not like new years, but similar. Those stories in this post were all from Sunday. See, fun things can happen on Sunday, and I slept through Church.

Until later on....

Diary, is that you?!?!

I haven't had someone comment on any of my antics lately. I look almost everyday to see if someone says something back to me. They haven't. So that makes me think that the novelty of the Creegs, and the blog have worn off. I have no more readers, so I figure I'll just take this opportunity to talk to myself, via blog. I'm kidding of course, but I have gotten some comments in the past from Smoke, Cheese, Hunter, ZDawg(self-proclaimed), etc. I like that. I'm calling out to all my peeps to leave me messages in the comment box. There's no pressure. It's not like I'm pissed that no one acknowledges reading my incessant banter, but it's nice to know someone is out there. See, I'm an actor at heart, and try to be in real life too, and when I perform on stage it's nice to have someone there, to watch. Even in the rehearsal process, there is the director and stage manager(sometimes, right Mr. T? haha) amongst others sitting in the audience giving some sort of response. Whether it be a laugh or a constructive criticism, someone is there. I would never say that I act for the audience, because actors are selfish that way. We act for ourselves and the joy that it brings us, and then for the audience. If there is a "house" of two people, they deserve your best every performance. That's the way I feel about the BLOG. If I have 25 or 2 readers, I will try to perform to the best of my abilities, but sometimes you just like to see who's out there. People read anonymously, and that's cool and all, and I'm defintiely not saying that everyone that reads should leave a message, but occasionally, I'd appreciate it if you stopped by VIA BLOG and said hello. I get cards in the mail responding to things that I've written and I love that. I'll pick up a call and someone will say, "Man, you must have been shitfaced to have done [enter dumb Creegs move here]." I love that! I think that's great. But it's to the point now where I go a bit crazy because I'm thinking, "did I call that person and tell them what I did? Oh, that's right, they read my banter." That's what I think I'm going to call this thing now, Banter, not Blog. The word Blog freaks me out a bit, and I'm not sure why.

This isn't a cry out for help. Just let me know you're there. Now, I'm not asking for 80 people leave a comment, just one, maybe two if I'm lucky, I don't care. Can you tell I had nothing to write about today? Just one of those days I guess. I've been really busy with work this week. Been sort of crazy. I was in Ft. Myers yesterday, and if you've never been, I suggest going, staying on Sanibel Island, it's like nothing you've ever seen before. I know people have been to the beach, or the shore to my NJ folks, but this place is so relaxing. Ranked #3 in the state for nicest, most secluded beach, it's awesome. The sand is white, the water is great and there's hardly anyone on the beach. It's like you're on a private beach sometimes. I don't get to go there often, but when I've been, it's amazing. Ft. Myers Beach is nice too, and actually has some bars and shops, etc. Sort of reminds me of a less populated Clearwater Beach(#5 in the state) which is very close to where I currently live.

On that note, I think I should say that me and my roomate, Citizen Kane, are seriously considering a move to Davis Island. This place is legit. For those that have been down to Tampa/St. Pete/Clearwater area probably have never seen this place, basically because I didn't know much about it. It's an island off of Tampa, downtown Tampa, close to Channelside and Ybor City. It's amazing! Just like a little suburd mixed into a major US city. There's a bridge that goes into the island and then there are little bars and restaurants, etc. People say that I'd be a legend over there because of my outgoing personality and my liking of beer. Great Irish Pub, and Mexican restaurant to go along with many, many more things. I'm looking forward to hanging out there this weekend with some people. It should be good times. Isn't it always good times?

Smokey(former) is getting married in April and not to be outdone by anyone else in my circle of friends, we're doing the bachelor party in Key West!!! Are you f'ing kidding me?!?! I'm jacked up! I can't wait. The beautiful thing about it is that we're meeting up in Miami and then renting a van or two to drive the two+ hour trip to Key West. That's going to be insane! I don't want to pump myself up too much because I do that, have a blast and then it's over and I'm wanting to do it again. That's the way it always goes. But it's going to be fun and I'm looking forward to it tremendously.

"But no matter the era, one thing we have all experienced is the lasting bond of friendship and camaraderie that is formed and treasured by our students, no matter which town, city or country they have arrived from. Being a part of that "fraternity of SHP alumni" is the envy of graduates from other schools." - Msgr. Michael E. Kelly, headmaster, Seton Hall Prep
(It's true. -cmc)

Best Dinner Ever

I told you that would be the title of this post. And this post is post #75 since July. Some may say that I need to get a life, and you, my friends, would be correct. So I returned to the Tampa Bay area this morning after a trip to Savannah, Georgia. Thanks again to the host couple that took care of me, cooking me a great dinner last night AND Friday night. Tremendous on both counts, I have to say. A question came out the other night asking, "What, from (Friday night) are you going to put in the blog?" And the answer to that would be, "Whatever I can remember, which probably isn't much."

Friday night, as I remember it, here it goes. I drove to Savannah later in the day on Friday and was ready to go. It had been awhile since I'd been to Savannah, and there was really nothing "special" going on. By "special" I mean, there wasn't a haunted pub crawl or anything set in stone. It was just a weekend away with some people I really don't even like that much. HAHA. I'm kidding, I know you're reading. The people, as stated many, many times before, are wonderful. It's a great crew from top to bottom, truly. I drive up and as has been my M.O. (modis opperendi) in the past, I buy some beer, usually at least 18 and get really excited about the prospects of drinking. I get to my destination, Casa de la Formaggio(I think that's cheese in italian,) and relax for fifteen/twenty minutes, and then the talk of dinner comes up, I crack a beer, it goes down and then that's where it ends for the time being. This weekend was a bit different. After dinner, I came up with the brilliant idea to do powerhour. For those who've never done power hour before, don't. For those that don't know what it is, don't ask. It's not the smartest drinking game ever invented and gets you bloated and you burp and pee a lot. Just problems all over the place. Not to mention, it gets you pretty 'derrrrn rrrnnnnt, Big Show'(In memory of Kyle Freeman). So it was a base coat and just a sign of things to come. As always when in Savannah, the first stop was River Street and the infamous Wet Willies for their daquiri drinks. Of course I had two, and two of the strongest ones of course. So that's where things start to get blurry, but I'll tell it as I remember it. The bouncer at Wet Willies looks like Billy Blanks from the TaiBo commercials, and one night when we were there some dude smacked him on his ass as he left the place. Billy HATED that, and that's an understatement. So I tell you that because EVERY time that I go there, I tell him that I know he loves the butt smack by other men, and he gave me this look that should have left an enormous pile of excrement in my pants, but I backtracked, reminded him who I was, and he smiled and we shared a great laugh. I need a paragraph break in here...

There...

So as I was going up to the bar for the second drink, I noticed the "bartender" and she was pretty cute, and I didn't want to order from her because I think I was staring at her and making comments to Wolv about her, etc. So I went down to the other end of the bar and tried to get a drink from the fat ugly dude. Well FinestCheeseInTheWorld went up to said-bartender and said something to the effect of, "That big dude over there thinks your cute and was too chicken to order a drink from you, so I'm doing it." To which she apparently let out a little smile maybe and a snicker possibly. Not really sure when we left that place or the walk somewhere else really. The next thing that's in my mind is standing outside a nicer restaurant downtown talking to two of Hunter's classmates(maybe only one was a classmate, they're hospital-mates), and my two favorite moves of the night came out then. I was starting to get chatty, and maybe running the mouth a little bit. Nothing mean or derogatory I don't think, but maybe, but more like "There she is" at random females walking down the street. Getting in good with a group of dudes looking for naked women for a bachelor party. They loved me probably more than they should have. But, there was a club hockey tourney in town and the Florida State University team was walking down the street. I broke out the high five maneuver to show my appreciation for them. The last guy in the group kept his hands in his pockets and so I had to do it. I slapped him right on the ass. To which he jokily responded, "Where are you staying?" And I believe it was after this that two girls were apparently walking down the street(I really don't remember this) and I looked at one and said slowly, "You are beautiful," to which I supposedly got a smile and a glance.

Next was Churchills, and I really don't remember much of this bar either, only that I went outside and was talking to everyone that went by. Once again, chatty, friendly drunk guy. Then we went downstairs in the bar where there was a three piece jazz group playing and I believe they were awful, but I was drunk and was having a good time. There was a conversation between the two drunkest people in the place, and I'm sure the topics were heavy. Oh wait, I was one of the two. I don't remember what was said, but apparently, I slammed a chair down and sat in it and then started the conversation. Some say that they thought there was going to be a fight, others say that I was just being fun. I don't know what I was thinking. Next thing I know is that I'm fighting off the watery-mouth, pukey-spits in the car. I thought I was done for and I had succumb to the vomit, but somehow, someway, it never came. Then it was morning and I was waking up on the floor. That's how I roll, I guess. Needless to say, I didn't drink on Saturday or Sunday. Had a beer offered to me on Saturday night and the immediate gag and shake that my body did was a sign that I should probably stay away.

It was great to see ZDP and B. Yarbs and his Family, etc. Condoms never looked so good in all my life, like three or four at a time. It was a memorable trip to Georgia. I'll be back soon, not really knowing if soon is February or St. Patty's but definitely St. Patty's at the very least. There's a big crew coming. Will be fun, I'm sure.

Thanks again to all involved. I'm tired, I'm going to bed...

Thank You Chuck Norris

Apparently there is an e-mail circulating about Chuck Norris and the basis, I think, is that he's a bad-ass. So I'm here to copy and paste the only way I know how, the list that I received in an e-mail today. I know I may have sent it out to some of you, but I want to share it with the world! There will most probably be some funny stories coming from this upcoming weekend. So original material will be coming soon. That, I can promise you! Enjoy.

Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried
Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
Chuck Norris does not hunt because the word hunting infers theprobability of failure. Chuck Norris goes killing.
Chuck Norris counted to infinity - twice.
Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged goodlooks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the faceand took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.
If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris you may be only seconds away from death.
When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night he checks hisc loset for Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris has already been to Mars; that's why there are no signs of life there.
Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.
Chuck Norris built a time machine and went back in time to stop the JFK assassination. As Oswald shot, Chuck met all three bullets with his beard, deflecting them. JFK's head exploded out of sheer amazement.
The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.
When Chuck Norris sends in his taxes, he sends blank forms and includes only a picture of himself, crouched and ready to attack. ChuckNorris has not had to pay taxes ever.
Chuck Norris was going to spend a relaxing day watching television when one of those commercials for Trix cereal came on. Angered by what he saw, Chuck Norris spent the rest of his, what was supposed to be a relaxing day, punching every child he came across. He would then shout at them, Trix are for Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris ordered a Big Mac at Burger King, and got one.
Chuck Norris sleeps with a night light. Not because Chuck Norrisis afraid of the dark, but the dark is afraid of Chuck Norris
A blind man once stepped on Chuck Norris' shoe. Chuck replied,"Don't you know who I am? I'm Chuck Norris!" The mere mention of his name cured this man blindness. Sadly the first, last, and only thing this man ever saw, was a fatal roundhouse delivered by Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris has a word for a person he puts into a coma; that word is "lucky".
Chuck Norris once ate three 72 oz. steaks in one hour. He spent the first 45 minutes having sex with his waitress.
Chuck Norris can touch MC Hammer.
Achilles was supposedly the greatest warrior of all time, but he died because of his weak spot, the Achilles tendon. There is no Chuck Norris tendon.
Chuck Norris is not hung like a horse... horses are hung like Chuck Norris
(My personal favorite)If Chuck Norris is late, time better slow the fuck down.
Chuck Norris died ten years ago, but the Grim Reaper can't get up the courage to tell him.
Chuck Norris always has sex on the first date. Always.
A Handicap parking sign does not signify that this spot is for handicapped people. It is actually in fact a warning, that the spot belongs to Chuck Norris and that you will be handicapped if you park there.
Chuck Norris frequently donates blood to the Red Cross. Just never his own.
At birth, Chuck Norris came out feet first so he could roundhouse kick the doctor in the face. Nobody delivers Chuck Norris but Chuck Norris!

My Mom's Great

Sorry to bring people down again, but this was an e-mail from my mom to me today.


From :
Susan Cregan
Sent : Tuesday, January 10, 2006 2:51 PM
To : "Casey Cregan"
Subject :Today

Case, Very sad day - funeral Mass and burial of Rudy Kelly, But my purpose for writing is that I asked Mr. Kelly "what can I do for you? Do you need anything from Tom or me…..his answer was "yes" please hug, kiss and tell your guys that you LOVE them.
Consider yourself, kissed, hugged and all the love in my heart.. MOM

Awwwww. That was one of the nicest things said to me EVER!

I hope you all get hugs and kisses from the one's that you love most today and everyday too!!!

Funny, Like HAHA?!?!

So I first want to apologize, although I probably shouldn't, but I like to strive to be funny on this thing, and the last two posts that I've written were of a sad nature. The last thing that I want is to bring people down, and in all reality, I want to make people smile and laugh and have a great rest of their day either laughing at or with me. My boy Beef sent me an e-mail today because apparently he had Rudy's mom as a teacher growing up in Morris Plains, NJ. Just a small world. But thank you for the kind words that everyone's had for me and mentions of grief, I appreciate it. Reading the obituary today, it was really sad thinking about how much this kid did and how much he was appreciated by his surrounding cast. Sort of hits home for me being that I have the greatest supporting cast ever. But anyway, to everyone that expressed some grief to me, they know that I said that I had to come home today and just throw up something funny, something to make people smile. I try my best to do that regularly, and was trying to think of something off the top of my head that I did or was done that I saw that was funny, and I really don't have anything, so I figured if I just started typing, maybe something would come out.

I'm going to Savannah this weekend. Should be a blast. Hanging out with that married couplez with the "z." That's really not funny, but more like 'fun.'

I do have a story of something that happened to me. There are people or a person that may have already read or heard about this, but it's sort of funny but not really. So I went to the Tampa Bay Bucs game this past Saturday, and it was a lot of fun, great game to watch and even better that I really don't root for either of the teams, as much as I wanted the Bucs to win. So we were tailgating, drinking some cold beers when I look over and see a Bucs fan bending down low to the ground appearing to let the air out of a Toyota Tundra's tires. I point this out to the people that were tailgating with us and my one buddy got pissed about this. It was too late to make the guy stop, but he wanted to show that he's a good person I guess, so he wrote a note and put it on the windshield just saying, "Some douchebag let the air out of your front tire," or something a lot more mean spirited. So the game comes and goes and we're back outside drinking some more beers when the owners of the car comes back. They are younger people, one's a Army Chaplain, maybe 30, and his girlfriend just home from Iraq three days. The other couple is the same age, the man was also in the military, didn't get what branch. They had driven this BRAND NEW Tundra to the game from (where else) Savannah, Georgia because they were avid Redskins fans. So we tell them about the (for lack of a nicer term) asshole that let the air out of the tires, and tell them what the guy was wearing. Now let's get this straight, yes, I was drinking beers, but I was by no means drunk. I saw the guy plain as day. I could point him out of a line-up if I had to. I saw this happen. The Army guys go over and confront the dude, who doesn't deny it but says to get out of his face, to which his girlfriend then follows them back to the Tundra to "check out the damage." She sees the tire, then goes on to say that her boyfriend/husband whatever, was with her the entire pre-game and he wasn't over there, and could not have possibly done it and basically called me a liar. That didn't go over with the Jersey or the 8 beers that I had consumed. I start going off of this girl. Saying that out of 80,000 people, I randomly pointed out her dirtbag of a boyfriend/husband. She wants to see proof. WHAT THE F?!?! Proof?!?! I saw the dirtbag doing the whole f'ing thing, there's your proof! Needless to say, the people that were with the dirtbag obviously knew that dirtbag was a dirtbag and brought an air pump over to the Tundra and pumped the tire back up. There were more antics that this asshole did prior to the air. Like throwing a football as hard as his non-athletics ass could right into the side of this brand new truck, and saying, "Don't (pleasure someone orally) on your way to the bathroom!" So there are a few bad apples that spoil the bunch. It just so happens, and here's where maybe there's some humor, but not likely, that this dirtbag actually sat next to me at the only other game I went to this season, and was just looking around for opposing teams fans screaming at them for no apparent reason. The type of sports fan that I like least. Root for your team, not against the other, that's my philosophy, unless it's Delbarton. Haha. (Joke for SHP alums)

Other than that, there's nothing really funny going on. I will have some sort of something at the end of this upcoming weekend, that's for sure. There always is. I'm already talking about staying until early, early Monday morning so that I can watch all of Sunday's football games and recover from the inevitable hangover that I'm going to have.

Couch, here I come. Unless someone else wants it...

Driving conditions are terrible tonight, I can barely see the road in front of me. It's cold, I can tell from the pane of the window, pain on my face in the rearview mirror..." Almost Steve

RIP Rudy Kelly

Rudy Kelly passed away on Thursday at the age of 22. Sad, sad day and weekend. What a great loss.

Dude, Seriously...

No really, seriously. I got a call tonight from the great woman that brought me into this world, that would be my mother for the...ah, screw it, dumb people in this world. She brought to my attention that a fellow Seton Hall Prep alumni, he's actually a young alumni, I'm an old alumni, got hit by a car in Mantaloking over the weekend. Actually, it was the night of January 1st, and not New Years Eve. He was apparently walking out to put garbage on the street for pick-up in the morning and a car went out of control and took him with it. Details are still sketchy, but I do ask any SHP alums that read, or any person that has a heart to stop for a minute today and think about, and pray if you do that sort of thing for Rudy Kelly, Class of 2002. This young man has a great family and a twin brother who are really hurting pretty bad as you can probably imagine. He's still alive and clinging on, but apparently, probably won't make it. Now me of all people was asking my mom before, "He can still pull through it, right?" I always try to stay optimistic when shit like this happens to people.

The class of 2002 happens to hold a real close place in my heart. It was the first class that I got to see graduate upon my return to work at SHP. Just a bunch of great kids, really. I happen to stay in touch with one of the graduates of that class and immediately got on the horn with him tonight after I hung up with mom. He already knew, granted it's 5 days removed, but then I talked to a sister of another 2002 grad, and she and her family knew. There's something really special about SHP, and I really felt it tonight even moreso than I usually do with all of my really great friends in NJ and Savannah, and Virginia that I graduated High School with. It's like they're all coming back together tomorrow at the school for a mass for Rudy.

Here's a funny story of something that I remember about Rudy Kelly. It's also illegal, but he is a kid that loves Seton Hall Prep. The night before the big Delbarton hockey game, I think, a bunch of the SHP boys drive over to the $25,000/year high school campus (he may have been alone, now that I think about it) and Rudy paints something to the effect of "SHP RULES" on their BRAND NEW Scoreboard. I'm talking brand, spanking new, three months old. EVERYONE at the school knew that Rudy had done this. The word was around SHP the next day so fast, and of course, someone leaked Rudy's name. The day came and went. Now this next part I got from Rudy's dad, Mr. Kelly, who is a large man that I would not want to mess with at all. Mr. Kelly had gotten word that Rudy could have possibly been involved, so he met Rudy in the driveway after school that day and confronted him about it. Rudy denied it at first, and Mr. Kelly said that he was driving over to the school that moment to tell Msgr. Kelly(no relation). Rudy then went inside, for a moment while Mr. Kelly waited outside in the car. Rudy then emerged from the house, with tears in his eyes telling his dad that he did it, and that he wanted to apologize to Msgr. because he didn't want to give the school a bad name. They did just that, Rudy wrote an apology to Delbarton, paid for a brand new scoreboard for the richest school in NJ, met with Msgr. Kelly and after doing a lot of detentions and more, he was let off the hook.

Just a little sidenote that really took my mind off of his life-threatening situation. Funny stories and thoughts will return on Sunday. Have a great weekend, and please be safe out there.

Alma Mater sons be loyal keep her name in purest light, never waver from her precepts guard her banner Blue and White. Oh sing her praise to highest skies and be ye faithful in her eyes, for she will foster all your dreams, her name is Seton Hall. Her name is Seton Hall.

My Wings Are In The Shop(pe)

I wanted to add the (pe) to Shop because it looks so much nicer than SHOP. Say shop three times fast, think about that word. It's EEEEEEEVVVVVVIL! I'm in a strange mood today, and I sort of like it. But to the true meaning of the title. I know I went 'home' for Christmas to see the family, etc and traveled there a bit, it's not the same. My travel wings are being worked on is on a more personal level. (How deep am I getting today?) This will be the second straight weekend that I'll be in Florida, my home, and it feels strange. It's only Wednesday, but it's weird. My roommate came back to the place last night and asked me if I wanted to go see a play on Friday, so it's a date. Just so happens to be the same show that didn't want me in it. It's all good, I want to see just who got cast from seeing them in the callbacks, and how the direction is being that I thought the director was pretty strong in auditions. (Does this post have a 'gay' feel to it today or is it me? I guess with talk of shoppes and plays, yeah...it does). So I think I'm going to see a show on Friday night, (cue up manly things) and then get drunk! (whew!)

Here's even more 'manly' things. Oh Saturday, the Tampa Bay Bucs are in the NFL Playoffs and I will be in attendence rooting on the Pewter Pirates against the Washington Redskins. Cannons will be blowing and I'll be drinking beer. I think I have to completely switch topics because there is a weird aura going on in this post today. I'm sorry.

So to get right down to it. I'm sure I'll start my bi-monthly treks to Savannah to see the happily married couplez with a 'z.' That's plural in Cregan-world. And Wolv and that crew too! Hoping to get to Aiken, SC to see a show with Mr. "You down wit da OH-6" T as the lead or a lead, or just the best damn thing that show has seen, whatever works. Who knows, maybe I'll hit Bed Bath and Beyond, it's gonna be a busy month, I don't know if I'll have time.

Don't think I'll be heading to NJ anytime soon and that sort of blows. First and foremost, it's cold there, and I turned into a snobby Floridian. Sorry to inform you, but it was 78 yesterday, BUT THE WIND CHILL MADE IT A FROSTY 76.5. Feel bad for me. I almost had to put on long sleeves. Almost.

You know, Spring Training is right around the corner and Johnny Damon is a New York Yankee. I like that. I like the fact that Spring Training is so close, you can taste it. A month from next week, the Pitchers and Catchers report. Then right after that, the players do and then before you know it, games are going on and then it's April, you're wondering where the year went and the Yankees are in first for the entirety of the season, averaging 116 runs a game. Can you tell I'm excited about three months from now. I also remember a few of my close friends telling me that they'll probably be down here in February. Well Hunter and CHEESE, it's almost February! We haven't even gotten to the 5th of the month of January and I'm already saying that it's almost February. But it is.

I'm going to recommend a book to people that like sports and teams that lose a lot, (Mr. T, you can relate) My Losing Season by Pat Conroy is brilliant. It's a true life story about Mr. Conroy, writer of Prince of Tides for the women in the audience, and his college basketball team from The Citadel, a military college in Charleston, SC. It's just a well-written, sort of sports book, but a book more about friendships and family, etc. I finished it last night and I want to pick it right back up and read it again. AND IT DOESN'T EVEN HAVE PICTURES!!!

That's all for now.

"You Down Wit The O-6?!?!"

That was a comment made to me, Mr. T and his lovely lady New Years Eve at a local Palm Harbor restaurant. Mr. T is hilarious and he said, "I'm going to tell 'Steve' to have a good Oh-6." So when 'Steve' came back to the table, T says, "Have a good 0h-6 'Steve'" to which Steve must not have heard him and responded with an eye-piercing(he had one) "What?" to which Mr. T responded with the same thing he said earlier and 'Steve' came back with the title of the post. All sorts of excited. You couldn't have imagined anyone more excited for 2006 to be here. It was tremendous to say the least.

So like I said, I had my buddy Mr. T in town with his little lady, coming all the way from Podunk, South Carolina by way of Tallahassee, Florida. Podunk's really not a town in South Carolina, but it should be and if I'm ever famous I'm going to buy a town, most likely Clemson, and call it Clemson University in Podunk, South Carolina. That'd be awesome. So many have heard the story, many others will never hear the story, and the more the days go on, I think my story may not be true. I think I may just be sick. A little stomach issue, nothing eaten wrong or swallowed wrong or anything of that nature as the culprit. It may just be a good old fashioned, "flu-like symptoms," which is not fun. Especially when you have friends in-town and it's New Years Eve. I tried like hell to suck it up, but I wasn't the champion drinker I usually am on New Years. Just wasn't feeling it. No disrespect to Mr. T, I literally wasn't feeling good. We split an entire bottle of Vodka, not a huge one, but big enough for four drinks each, and then threw down about three beers, and that was all the stomach could take. No bodily actions took place or anything like that, it was just all that my body could stomach...bad choice of words. I was done drinking and it was 12:30 maybe. Good times had though, by all. I apologize if I got anyone else sick. No, there was no swapping spit by me with anyone else, I'd write a whole post on that if there were, you all know I would, haha. I think I may have gotten Mr. T's lady ill. I hope not though because I was in some serious pain the other night.

In response to my last post and the comment made by the regularly-mentioned-in-this-thing FineCheese, I knew that it would be figured out. If it was read, it would be figured out. Which is why I said that I would get in trouble for that one. This thing is like a sickness, you have a thought in your head and you have to write it down asap and you could care less who reads it. So it's ok, I'm not a mystery writer yet. Some didn't know what I was talking about, actually there may only be three, now four people that knew what I was talking about, so maybe I am a mystery writer afterall. And thanks for the "Pudddy" in there, respek!

More later, first day back to work, weird.