To no one in particular:
"One day you will wake up and realize just how special he is... And when that day comes, he will be waking up next to someone who already knows that" -Anonymous
Yes, I am pompous in thinking this! Especially with the latest events taking place and me being happy where I'm at!
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Monday, May 21, 2007
Message From Above
In the past few posts, I've probably taken a few "pot-shots" at some people that may have hurt me in the past few weeks. But something miniscule happened to me this weekend and yesterday that had me thinking that someone (grandma) or something sent me a message in a weird way. I have a great friend here in Tampa that I haven't seen in some time. You're probably thinking that she's obviously not a great friend if I haven't seen her or talked to her in months, if not a year and we even live in the same town albeit a city, but we really are. She's a girl that was a neighbor of mine at Clemson. She's also a cousin of one of my best friends from college who was one of the best actors I've ever worked with. Mr. T (not from A-Team fame) is the other most talented actor I've ever had the pleasure of being on stage with. Anyway, I was spending a relaxing Sunday at the neighborly pool, when I hear my name being called and a female voice yelling it. Obviously, that caught me by surprise. I didn't recognize the voice right off the bat, but as soon as I came back outside from my place, I knew who it was. My friend Miche. See, Miche has found God. She's kind of separated herself from the rest of the local Clemson alum's recently because she's in school, and probably slightly because we'll have a beer or six when we're together and she's not down with that anymore. Not that she's against it, she just has chosen not to do it anymore. A respectable decision, not one that I would abide by, but to each their own.
Miche and I hug, catch up, talk about her cousin and her school, and my job, etc. Just do what close friends do after not seeing each other in so long. She's always been an extremely genuine person, now with God on her side, she's even more so. She had heard that I was with a girl in Chicago and asked about that. (I guess everyone knew, even people I hadn't talked to in some time.) So I tell her the story of what happened last week and explain that I didn't get outwardly emotional. That I had had the outpouring of emotion after my long-term relationship, but not sure if I was just emotion-ed out for this one, or what. So as I'm telling Miche this story, she stops me, and puts it in some spiritual terms. Not corny, but basically just added that I had a calm, or a weight lifted from me. I snickered a little bit, but I went with the spiritual-laced comment. We talked more and said our goodbyes, said we'd be better friends, and went on our ways. I immediately started thinking about it. I think she's right, but not only that, I think that's exactly what happened. Now being non-practicing-devout Catholic from the northeast, and not buying into the "Saved" people and people who "found God." I thought that the meeting up between Miche and myself, was a sign sent from Grandma again. Just bear with me here. I know you guys think I'm crazy, and I am sometimes. I'm a Gemini, it's written right in my stars (as I was told). To try not to be corny, I'm not going to say that Grandma sent a servant of God, one that I am close to, to get her message across, but it's one of those things that I can't explain. Let me believe this. It's where I'm at right now.
Let me also say that I had the best weekend. Friday night was typical. I played softball, came home and drank on the porch with great people. Went to the bar, had just a great time. Woke up early Saturday to pick up Beef and Beefette at the airport, went to Clearwater Beach for some lunch, came back, went to see Roger Waters, which was amazing!!! Came home went out to the bars again. Hung out with some more great people. Dealt with some more drama, but this time it kind of included me, but in the end I'm better for it, and it'll benefit me in the end. Hung out with another amazing girl. Haven't decided on a name for her yet, but she's wonderful, and actually likes me. We spent a lot of Saturday night and all-day Sunday together. Truly a great person, and I can't wait to spend more time with her. And yes, it is the same girl that came up to me and wanted to give me her number from last Saturday. There is no boyfriend. CockBlock just sucks sometimes. Her, along with Citizen actually helped me HUGE on Saturday. If this turns into something special, i.e. a relationship, then I will actually be slightly indebted to CockBlock, but it Citizen that started the ball rolling. He's usually good for throwing me under the bus, but when I need him, he's always there. Good dude! Truly!
People tell me all the time that things happen for a reason. I believe, again, as corny as it sounds, that Grandma has something to do with most, if not all of it! I believe last weekend into this weekend happened for a reason, and I'm going to ride the wave. Hang out with the girl a lot! It's kind of weird that she not only lives in the same town as me, but two complexes down, is an ex-actress in NYC, teaches drama and directs children's theater at a non-profit school here in Tampa. I'm going to enjoy this one! And yes, I am going to try to get her to Savannah for BirthdayPalooza at the end of June. Just keep your fingers crossed that it'll actually last that long.
Have a great week! I'll be writing occasionally, but hoping that most of my "free" time will be spent with her!
Miche and I hug, catch up, talk about her cousin and her school, and my job, etc. Just do what close friends do after not seeing each other in so long. She's always been an extremely genuine person, now with God on her side, she's even more so. She had heard that I was with a girl in Chicago and asked about that. (I guess everyone knew, even people I hadn't talked to in some time.) So I tell her the story of what happened last week and explain that I didn't get outwardly emotional. That I had had the outpouring of emotion after my long-term relationship, but not sure if I was just emotion-ed out for this one, or what. So as I'm telling Miche this story, she stops me, and puts it in some spiritual terms. Not corny, but basically just added that I had a calm, or a weight lifted from me. I snickered a little bit, but I went with the spiritual-laced comment. We talked more and said our goodbyes, said we'd be better friends, and went on our ways. I immediately started thinking about it. I think she's right, but not only that, I think that's exactly what happened. Now being non-practicing-devout Catholic from the northeast, and not buying into the "Saved" people and people who "found God." I thought that the meeting up between Miche and myself, was a sign sent from Grandma again. Just bear with me here. I know you guys think I'm crazy, and I am sometimes. I'm a Gemini, it's written right in my stars (as I was told). To try not to be corny, I'm not going to say that Grandma sent a servant of God, one that I am close to, to get her message across, but it's one of those things that I can't explain. Let me believe this. It's where I'm at right now.
Let me also say that I had the best weekend. Friday night was typical. I played softball, came home and drank on the porch with great people. Went to the bar, had just a great time. Woke up early Saturday to pick up Beef and Beefette at the airport, went to Clearwater Beach for some lunch, came back, went to see Roger Waters, which was amazing!!! Came home went out to the bars again. Hung out with some more great people. Dealt with some more drama, but this time it kind of included me, but in the end I'm better for it, and it'll benefit me in the end. Hung out with another amazing girl. Haven't decided on a name for her yet, but she's wonderful, and actually likes me. We spent a lot of Saturday night and all-day Sunday together. Truly a great person, and I can't wait to spend more time with her. And yes, it is the same girl that came up to me and wanted to give me her number from last Saturday. There is no boyfriend. CockBlock just sucks sometimes. Her, along with Citizen actually helped me HUGE on Saturday. If this turns into something special, i.e. a relationship, then I will actually be slightly indebted to CockBlock, but it Citizen that started the ball rolling. He's usually good for throwing me under the bus, but when I need him, he's always there. Good dude! Truly!
People tell me all the time that things happen for a reason. I believe, again, as corny as it sounds, that Grandma has something to do with most, if not all of it! I believe last weekend into this weekend happened for a reason, and I'm going to ride the wave. Hang out with the girl a lot! It's kind of weird that she not only lives in the same town as me, but two complexes down, is an ex-actress in NYC, teaches drama and directs children's theater at a non-profit school here in Tampa. I'm going to enjoy this one! And yes, I am going to try to get her to Savannah for BirthdayPalooza at the end of June. Just keep your fingers crossed that it'll actually last that long.
Have a great week! I'll be writing occasionally, but hoping that most of my "free" time will be spent with her!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
The Finger
yeah, that one. I received it today. That's right, me, of all people, received an evil finger from a "NY Rican" as stated on the back of his Ford Windstar. It seems that if people are from New York down here, you're going to know about it by the sticker on their car. And most of them are Puerto Rican, another bumper sticker that goes with the red, white and blue NY emblazened on their cars. Anyway, no ill-will towards Puerto Ricans, I'm just stating fact here.
So I was in Orlando, for work, driving a 22-foot Penske truck. What happens is that every month, for an entire week, I spend driving a truck around Orlando picking up all of the textbooks that schools are disposing of, to which we (my company) takes and donates (for the most part), recycles or (most importantly) try to buy! That's the surface of what I do during these weeks. Anyway, at the end of the day, me and my temp worker were heading back to our recycler. Let me set the stage. The area of Orlando that I was headed is extremely industrial. I know, I know, everyone believes that Orlando is the "Most Magical Place on Earth" and Mickey lives there, but there is a lot of industry and an actual town that goes along with Orlando. And actually, Disney is in Kissimmee, an entire different county than the city of Orlando, but I digress. So I turn onto the industry-filled road that my recycler is on and drive this bohemouth of a truck slowly because other 53' trucks are zooming in all directions, pulling in and out of loading docks, etc. Anyway, I look in my side mirror and I see this Ford Windstar passing me on the left. There is no passing on this street because of said trucks zooming in both directions. Mind you, I was probably doing 35-40, so I wasn't exactly going slow on this side street. Anyway, I had found earlier in the week that my truck had an air-horn, and I loved hitting it for all to hear. So this gentleman and CHILD pass me on the left and so I blow the airhorn to be a smartass I guess, or because I just liked the sound, to which this "NY Rican" IMMEDIATELY sticks his hand out of the window and shoots me the bird. Now I ask why? Why did said person "flip me off" per se? What was this gentleman's intent? Did he have to get to that stop sign before anyone else? There was no one behind him when he was behind me, and I was about to pull into a loading dock in 500 feet or so, can he not wait?
That brings me to another point that I just thought of...and then naturally forgot...hmmm...oh yes(about three minute pause there by the way), Patience. I drive a ton for work, put 42,000 miles on my car since August 2005, so I notice quirks in people. One that bothers me is the guy who knows that a lane is ending but stays in it anyway to get to the front, which in turn causes everyone who was waiting PATIENTLY to slam on their brakes, which leads to TRAFFIC!!! I was probably that guy when I was 18, when I finally passed my drivers road test, I took it three times, failed twice. Want a ride? haha. Anyway, a BMW (isn't it always) did this today, then tried to weave into the lane to the left, couldn't, which in turn caused me to slam the brakes, computer bag goes flying into my windshield, and poop slipped out of my behind. Alright, I lied about the poop, no seriously, I didn't poop my pants, but I wanted to shoot the dude in the BMW a bird, like the "NY Rican" did to me, but knew that was childish and then I would end up being like that guy. So I just clinched my teeth and kept on driving. I also love the people that pull out in front of you after getting onto the highway and hit their brakes the entire ride even though there is NO ONE in front of them. Or going uphill. JUST TAKE YOUR FOOT OFF OF THE GAS YOU PIECE OF SHIT! Sorry, had a meltdown there for a second, but I just reloaded on some Powerade and I'm all set.
Anyway, I'm moving this weekend. I know, I move every year, and no, I'm not moving to Chicago. I decided not to put in for that position. Too cold. I'm moving 1/2 mile away. That's right my friends, I'm moving to the real life Melrose Place. A twelve unit complex where all of the people hang out together, some even date each other. It'll be fun. But the move will suck, but don't they all? I hope everyone has a great weekend. Behave yourselves. Hopefully there will a blog-worthy event happen this weekend. I can say that after moving, I may endulge in an adult beverage or 16.
So I was in Orlando, for work, driving a 22-foot Penske truck. What happens is that every month, for an entire week, I spend driving a truck around Orlando picking up all of the textbooks that schools are disposing of, to which we (my company) takes and donates (for the most part), recycles or (most importantly) try to buy! That's the surface of what I do during these weeks. Anyway, at the end of the day, me and my temp worker were heading back to our recycler. Let me set the stage. The area of Orlando that I was headed is extremely industrial. I know, I know, everyone believes that Orlando is the "Most Magical Place on Earth" and Mickey lives there, but there is a lot of industry and an actual town that goes along with Orlando. And actually, Disney is in Kissimmee, an entire different county than the city of Orlando, but I digress. So I turn onto the industry-filled road that my recycler is on and drive this bohemouth of a truck slowly because other 53' trucks are zooming in all directions, pulling in and out of loading docks, etc. Anyway, I look in my side mirror and I see this Ford Windstar passing me on the left. There is no passing on this street because of said trucks zooming in both directions. Mind you, I was probably doing 35-40, so I wasn't exactly going slow on this side street. Anyway, I had found earlier in the week that my truck had an air-horn, and I loved hitting it for all to hear. So this gentleman and CHILD pass me on the left and so I blow the airhorn to be a smartass I guess, or because I just liked the sound, to which this "NY Rican" IMMEDIATELY sticks his hand out of the window and shoots me the bird. Now I ask why? Why did said person "flip me off" per se? What was this gentleman's intent? Did he have to get to that stop sign before anyone else? There was no one behind him when he was behind me, and I was about to pull into a loading dock in 500 feet or so, can he not wait?
That brings me to another point that I just thought of...and then naturally forgot...hmmm...oh yes(about three minute pause there by the way), Patience. I drive a ton for work, put 42,000 miles on my car since August 2005, so I notice quirks in people. One that bothers me is the guy who knows that a lane is ending but stays in it anyway to get to the front, which in turn causes everyone who was waiting PATIENTLY to slam on their brakes, which leads to TRAFFIC!!! I was probably that guy when I was 18, when I finally passed my drivers road test, I took it three times, failed twice. Want a ride? haha. Anyway, a BMW (isn't it always) did this today, then tried to weave into the lane to the left, couldn't, which in turn caused me to slam the brakes, computer bag goes flying into my windshield, and poop slipped out of my behind. Alright, I lied about the poop, no seriously, I didn't poop my pants, but I wanted to shoot the dude in the BMW a bird, like the "NY Rican" did to me, but knew that was childish and then I would end up being like that guy. So I just clinched my teeth and kept on driving. I also love the people that pull out in front of you after getting onto the highway and hit their brakes the entire ride even though there is NO ONE in front of them. Or going uphill. JUST TAKE YOUR FOOT OFF OF THE GAS YOU PIECE OF SHIT! Sorry, had a meltdown there for a second, but I just reloaded on some Powerade and I'm all set.
Anyway, I'm moving this weekend. I know, I move every year, and no, I'm not moving to Chicago. I decided not to put in for that position. Too cold. I'm moving 1/2 mile away. That's right my friends, I'm moving to the real life Melrose Place. A twelve unit complex where all of the people hang out together, some even date each other. It'll be fun. But the move will suck, but don't they all? I hope everyone has a great weekend. Behave yourselves. Hopefully there will a blog-worthy event happen this weekend. I can say that after moving, I may endulge in an adult beverage or 16.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Soap Box
So it's been weeks, possibly months since I put something of any value to this blog. I've done nothing that's been of my own for quite some time. So I will take this opportunity to tell you, my loyal readers, that I am back. Probably will try to write something at least once a week. At least if I do that, I will make it every other week. That's how I roll.
First and foremost, I would like to say that I was deeply saddened by the Virginia Tech massacre, and I wish the dude didn't cop-out and kill himself. What a piece of shit. Sorry for that derrogatory language, but that's what I feel about that fuck! (That's right, I don't have to pay $1 anymore for saying that word.) I'm going to try to never give that cock the pleasure of saying his name EVER. I truly believe that this should not be a race thing at all. I could care less what nationality the asshole is/was. He killed 32 people that really, did nothing wrong or bad. What a piece of shit. But beyond that, I have been to Virginia Tech three times. I have walked by Ambler-Johnson Hall and thought about former Seton Hall Prep alumnus, University of Tennessee alumnus, and NFL alumnus Greg Amsler for some reason. I know, I know, what does that have to do with anything Creegs? Nothing, but when I first saw that on the news on Monday, the thoughts of that building came rushing back. I ran, probably drunk, around that circle where this dick walked across campus. It's a big circle. That fuck ruined lives and in my honest opinion, made me think back to 9/11. Granted, the loss of life was 33, a mere fraction of those lost on that 2001 day, but it definitely brought me back. It brought me back to thinking about Columbine (with the help of the media), and I remember exactly where I was for both. This is one of those moments. I won't share where I was because it was insignificant really, but my point is that it is one of those "holy shit" moments.
I don't like Virginia Tech. They beat my beloved Clemson Tigers regularly in football. But I've had nothing but good experiences in Blacksburg, even though some of my friends may debate me on this. But I can't imagine if this had happened at Clemson.
Sorry to go off on that. Some may ask, "Hey Creegs, you're fat, why do you eat so much?" No, that's not what people would ask. I think you would ask, "Hey Creegs, what's been going on with you? How've you been? You're the town drunk, you poop in public, you pee wherever you please, what debauchery have you been up to lately?" Well friends, I'm here to tell you that I've been doing all sorts of things, but my level of debauchery has been minimal, and I'm not really proud of that. I went to NJ for Easter weekend, and then up to see MoBetta and his family in Massachusetts on Easter Sunday, and then came back here and traveled to see friends in Chicago this past weekend, only to leave their place on Tuesday morning to come to Oakbrook, IL for my companies National Meeting. But I did have one experience that may surprise some people. I couldn't pee in public. I know, for those of my readers that are also in my fantasy baseball league, I've told this story, but I think it's pertinant to tell again.
It all started on Sunday, when I attended the Friendly Confines of Wrigley Field in Chicago, home of Major League Baseball's Cubs. The place was amazing. The game was great, and it was just a great experience. Such a good experience that I went back on Monday. I love baseball, but rarely, unless it's the ACC Tournament in Jacksonville, do I go back-to-back days, even when the Yankees are in Tampa. I just don't do it. It has nothing to do with my love for the game, I think it's just because I love watching baseball in my shorts and t-shirt and laying in my bed, and for some reason you can't do that at the park, but I'm working on it. Anyway, I went to the game, had a beer or two and had to go the bathroom. I have heard stories of the troughs that line the men's room in Wrigley, but hadn't ever experienced it. I've been in many a trough's in my day. They have them in Clemson, in Tiger Town, in Death Valley, all over. If you ran into a regular commode in a public forum in Clemson, it was a rarety. Anyway, the troughs at Wrigley line all possible walls. In Clemson, it's usually just one wall that's a trough. Not so in Wrigley, they're everywhere and when you walk in, you are smacked in the face with penis. Not that I'm homo-phobic, quite the contrary actually, but there was penis everywhere. You just jump in where there was an opening. So I get to the front and it happens to be at a corner and, mind you, I had to pee! I step up, and open the fly, let out mini-me and wait to pee. Now I've peed everywhere, you name it I've peed on it, or in it or all over it. Well, ladies and gentlemen, I couldn't do it. Nothing came. It was like my body was saying, "Sorry bud, no-can-do!"
I figured that was a funny, at least amusing story for those of you that know me well.
I'm at my national meeting, have been in Chicago since last Friday, and am ready to head back to the warm of Central Florida. I miss not wearing shorts at night, drinking cold beer, and quite simply, walking into a bar and the bartender knowing my name. But I did want to share that we had a special guest speaker today. His name, Bob Love, former NBA player for the Chicago Bulls. This gentleman was amazing. He had my undivided attention throughout his 45 minute speech. I'm not sure I moved a muscle. This is a man, that held all of the Chicago Bulls scoring records until that guy from North Carolina came along to uncerimoniously take all of the records from him. Anyway, for 46 years, Bob Love stuttered. The main point of his speech was that if you put your mind to something, and work hard at it, you can get to your goals. Mr. Love still shows signs of stuttering, but very, very minimal. Quite impressive. If you're ever at a company meeting and you hear that you'll be hearing from Bob Love, definitely get excited, it's a heck of a story!
Hope everyone is well. I'll be back in Tampa this weekend and then moving up the street, closer to the bars and into the same "complex" as most of our friends on the island. Should be busy, but fun. Hit me up to say hello if you get a chance.
God Bless Virginia Tech! God Bless America!
First and foremost, I would like to say that I was deeply saddened by the Virginia Tech massacre, and I wish the dude didn't cop-out and kill himself. What a piece of shit. Sorry for that derrogatory language, but that's what I feel about that fuck! (That's right, I don't have to pay $1 anymore for saying that word.) I'm going to try to never give that cock the pleasure of saying his name EVER. I truly believe that this should not be a race thing at all. I could care less what nationality the asshole is/was. He killed 32 people that really, did nothing wrong or bad. What a piece of shit. But beyond that, I have been to Virginia Tech three times. I have walked by Ambler-Johnson Hall and thought about former Seton Hall Prep alumnus, University of Tennessee alumnus, and NFL alumnus Greg Amsler for some reason. I know, I know, what does that have to do with anything Creegs? Nothing, but when I first saw that on the news on Monday, the thoughts of that building came rushing back. I ran, probably drunk, around that circle where this dick walked across campus. It's a big circle. That fuck ruined lives and in my honest opinion, made me think back to 9/11. Granted, the loss of life was 33, a mere fraction of those lost on that 2001 day, but it definitely brought me back. It brought me back to thinking about Columbine (with the help of the media), and I remember exactly where I was for both. This is one of those moments. I won't share where I was because it was insignificant really, but my point is that it is one of those "holy shit" moments.
I don't like Virginia Tech. They beat my beloved Clemson Tigers regularly in football. But I've had nothing but good experiences in Blacksburg, even though some of my friends may debate me on this. But I can't imagine if this had happened at Clemson.
Sorry to go off on that. Some may ask, "Hey Creegs, you're fat, why do you eat so much?" No, that's not what people would ask. I think you would ask, "Hey Creegs, what's been going on with you? How've you been? You're the town drunk, you poop in public, you pee wherever you please, what debauchery have you been up to lately?" Well friends, I'm here to tell you that I've been doing all sorts of things, but my level of debauchery has been minimal, and I'm not really proud of that. I went to NJ for Easter weekend, and then up to see MoBetta and his family in Massachusetts on Easter Sunday, and then came back here and traveled to see friends in Chicago this past weekend, only to leave their place on Tuesday morning to come to Oakbrook, IL for my companies National Meeting. But I did have one experience that may surprise some people. I couldn't pee in public. I know, for those of my readers that are also in my fantasy baseball league, I've told this story, but I think it's pertinant to tell again.
It all started on Sunday, when I attended the Friendly Confines of Wrigley Field in Chicago, home of Major League Baseball's Cubs. The place was amazing. The game was great, and it was just a great experience. Such a good experience that I went back on Monday. I love baseball, but rarely, unless it's the ACC Tournament in Jacksonville, do I go back-to-back days, even when the Yankees are in Tampa. I just don't do it. It has nothing to do with my love for the game, I think it's just because I love watching baseball in my shorts and t-shirt and laying in my bed, and for some reason you can't do that at the park, but I'm working on it. Anyway, I went to the game, had a beer or two and had to go the bathroom. I have heard stories of the troughs that line the men's room in Wrigley, but hadn't ever experienced it. I've been in many a trough's in my day. They have them in Clemson, in Tiger Town, in Death Valley, all over. If you ran into a regular commode in a public forum in Clemson, it was a rarety. Anyway, the troughs at Wrigley line all possible walls. In Clemson, it's usually just one wall that's a trough. Not so in Wrigley, they're everywhere and when you walk in, you are smacked in the face with penis. Not that I'm homo-phobic, quite the contrary actually, but there was penis everywhere. You just jump in where there was an opening. So I get to the front and it happens to be at a corner and, mind you, I had to pee! I step up, and open the fly, let out mini-me and wait to pee. Now I've peed everywhere, you name it I've peed on it, or in it or all over it. Well, ladies and gentlemen, I couldn't do it. Nothing came. It was like my body was saying, "Sorry bud, no-can-do!"
I figured that was a funny, at least amusing story for those of you that know me well.
I'm at my national meeting, have been in Chicago since last Friday, and am ready to head back to the warm of Central Florida. I miss not wearing shorts at night, drinking cold beer, and quite simply, walking into a bar and the bartender knowing my name. But I did want to share that we had a special guest speaker today. His name, Bob Love, former NBA player for the Chicago Bulls. This gentleman was amazing. He had my undivided attention throughout his 45 minute speech. I'm not sure I moved a muscle. This is a man, that held all of the Chicago Bulls scoring records until that guy from North Carolina came along to uncerimoniously take all of the records from him. Anyway, for 46 years, Bob Love stuttered. The main point of his speech was that if you put your mind to something, and work hard at it, you can get to your goals. Mr. Love still shows signs of stuttering, but very, very minimal. Quite impressive. If you're ever at a company meeting and you hear that you'll be hearing from Bob Love, definitely get excited, it's a heck of a story!
Hope everyone is well. I'll be back in Tampa this weekend and then moving up the street, closer to the bars and into the same "complex" as most of our friends on the island. Should be busy, but fun. Hit me up to say hello if you get a chance.
God Bless Virginia Tech! God Bless America!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Really Funny
Jersey Born, Jersey Bred, Jersey Trash Till I'm dead!
Yeah, I'm from Jersey, have been all my life. I'm gonna give you everything about jersey, the good, the bad, and the ugly. First... New Jersey people are conceited. It's true. We hateeveryone else. And we think we are better than everyone else. And we never stop talking about how great jersey is. Then we tell people to "shut the fuck up" when they tell us all we talk about is jersey. I just recently was in the south ... and I can honestly say, that I do think I am better than them. It's not my fault. It's cause I'm from jersey. My friends and I were the rudest, most obnoxious people there. Everyone just stared at us. Then we saw other rude people, and I asked them where they were from. They said jersey.
Why are New Jersey people self centered? Because we have reason to be. Next, some of the most famous people have come from ourstate. Just to name A FEW... Frank Sinatra, Bruce Springsteen, Kevin Smith, Whitney Houston, Martha Stewart, Lauryn Hill, Catch 22, Anne Hathaway, Queen Latifa, My Chemical Romance, Bon Jovi, Jack Nicholson, Bruce Willis, The Four Seasons, Danny Devito, Tom Cruise .. and the list Goes on.
Not only do we have famous people, we rank in the top 10 of smartest states every year.Not only are we smart & famous...we're rich. Bergen, Somerset, Morris, & Hunderton counties rank in the countries top 15 richest counties. And despite the slums of Newark (yes, Newark, not New -ark) & Camden which are some of the countries most dangerous places to live, we have 4 of the top 10 safest cities to live in the US.And we smell? Yeah, we do. New Jersey smells like ASS. On the turnpike, between exits 14 and 17. That's like, 5 percent of the entire state.. Bayonne, Port Newark, and Secaucus. And the surrounding areas. That's it. The majority of the state smells like trees. Because the majority of the state is trees. In fact, three of New Jersey's cities rank in the countries top 10 least polluted cities. So shove it.New Jersey is ideal. I live 20 minutes away from New York City and 45 minutes away from the famous jersey shore, which by the way is amazing. You think your beach is better? Fuck you. Why do you think MTV's true life had an episode titled "I'm a Jersey Shore girl." Because it's the best fucking shore in the country.
My house is 3 minutes to the nearest mall, 5 minutes to the next, and a 10 to the next. I just Counted 7 malls within a half hour of my house. Find me another state that has all that to offer.
Yeah, we have accents. Who gives a shit? Everyone has an accent. And no, we don't say "Joisey." We do say "cawfee and tawk." But I can tell you it's a hell of a better accent than you bitches from the south.
Hungry? Don't worry. We have 24 hour diners. A million of them. We also have Hoboken which has some of the finest places to eat. And you have not had real Italian food until you come here. Okay?
And WE can't drive? NO.. YOU can't drive. In the south the speed limit signs read: speed limit 60.. minimum 45. WHAT? That's why you people can't drive. Who has a minimum speed limit? New Jersey drivers like pissing other people off solely because of the reputation. This is what we will do...just so you know...if we see an out of state license plate, we'll tailgate your ass. Probably because you're only doing the speed limit & we want to go 20 over. Then, we'll cut you off... and go slow in front of you. Because we can. And because when you go home you're gonna complain about us. We like it, it doesn't bother us….it’s what we want.We like fast things. Things move too slow in other states. You can tell that someone's from New Jersey by the way they walk. They walk really fast and have a strut that says "I'm better than you."
Music scene? Amazing. Remember Hunka Bunka?...DJais, and last but definitely not least... TEMPTS!!! Enough said. We also have the best local bands... The rap scene, I don't know much about that, but I know it's there…& I know it's good. Obviously the club scene. You don't know club music until you come into New Jersey... SERIOUSLY. - - - - "We don't pump our gas ... we pump our fists."Just shut the fuck up.
If you go to Seaside boardwalk or Belmar. You'll probably see some of the trashiest, skankiest girls & some of the most guido, gelled up hair, armani exchange wearing boys that take too many steroids and have too much sex… But they are gorgeous and they know how to dance better than anyone you ever met in your life. So yeah, the stereotype that all jersey chicks are trashy, is true ... but only if you go to Seaside. That's pretty much it. The rest of the state is full of confident, beautiful people that speak their mind.The majority of Jersey people are Italian, or wish they were. We drink & smoke way too much. Oh yeah and we throw the sickest parties ... in the woods.
What else? Giants, Jets, Nets, and of course the Devils. They'rebetter than you. So shut the fuck up. And we have more Yankee fans than New York City. Come to jersey with a sox hat on ... I fuckin' dare you!And oh yeah, we say "yo." Often. And "fuck." I don't complain that you say "y'all" so don't complain that I say "yo."
To sum up New Jersey, yeah, most of the stereotypes are true,probably for about 5 percent of the state. The rest of the state is beautiful.And yeah, we hate you. We love ourselves. Wanna know why? Because all you bitches hate us. How would you feel if the other 49 states spent all their time talking shit? We deserve to be our own country cause we're that cool.
Yeah, I'm from Jersey, have been all my life. I'm gonna give you everything about jersey, the good, the bad, and the ugly. First... New Jersey people are conceited. It's true. We hateeveryone else. And we think we are better than everyone else. And we never stop talking about how great jersey is. Then we tell people to "shut the fuck up" when they tell us all we talk about is jersey. I just recently was in the south ... and I can honestly say, that I do think I am better than them. It's not my fault. It's cause I'm from jersey. My friends and I were the rudest, most obnoxious people there. Everyone just stared at us. Then we saw other rude people, and I asked them where they were from. They said jersey.
Why are New Jersey people self centered? Because we have reason to be. Next, some of the most famous people have come from ourstate. Just to name A FEW... Frank Sinatra, Bruce Springsteen, Kevin Smith, Whitney Houston, Martha Stewart, Lauryn Hill, Catch 22, Anne Hathaway, Queen Latifa, My Chemical Romance, Bon Jovi, Jack Nicholson, Bruce Willis, The Four Seasons, Danny Devito, Tom Cruise .. and the list Goes on.
Not only do we have famous people, we rank in the top 10 of smartest states every year.Not only are we smart & famous...we're rich. Bergen, Somerset, Morris, & Hunderton counties rank in the countries top 15 richest counties. And despite the slums of Newark (yes, Newark, not New -ark) & Camden which are some of the countries most dangerous places to live, we have 4 of the top 10 safest cities to live in the US.And we smell? Yeah, we do. New Jersey smells like ASS. On the turnpike, between exits 14 and 17. That's like, 5 percent of the entire state.. Bayonne, Port Newark, and Secaucus. And the surrounding areas. That's it. The majority of the state smells like trees. Because the majority of the state is trees. In fact, three of New Jersey's cities rank in the countries top 10 least polluted cities. So shove it.New Jersey is ideal. I live 20 minutes away from New York City and 45 minutes away from the famous jersey shore, which by the way is amazing. You think your beach is better? Fuck you. Why do you think MTV's true life had an episode titled "I'm a Jersey Shore girl." Because it's the best fucking shore in the country.
My house is 3 minutes to the nearest mall, 5 minutes to the next, and a 10 to the next. I just Counted 7 malls within a half hour of my house. Find me another state that has all that to offer.
Yeah, we have accents. Who gives a shit? Everyone has an accent. And no, we don't say "Joisey." We do say "cawfee and tawk." But I can tell you it's a hell of a better accent than you bitches from the south.
Hungry? Don't worry. We have 24 hour diners. A million of them. We also have Hoboken which has some of the finest places to eat. And you have not had real Italian food until you come here. Okay?
And WE can't drive? NO.. YOU can't drive. In the south the speed limit signs read: speed limit 60.. minimum 45. WHAT? That's why you people can't drive. Who has a minimum speed limit? New Jersey drivers like pissing other people off solely because of the reputation. This is what we will do...just so you know...if we see an out of state license plate, we'll tailgate your ass. Probably because you're only doing the speed limit & we want to go 20 over. Then, we'll cut you off... and go slow in front of you. Because we can. And because when you go home you're gonna complain about us. We like it, it doesn't bother us….it’s what we want.We like fast things. Things move too slow in other states. You can tell that someone's from New Jersey by the way they walk. They walk really fast and have a strut that says "I'm better than you."
Music scene? Amazing. Remember Hunka Bunka?...DJais, and last but definitely not least... TEMPTS!!! Enough said. We also have the best local bands... The rap scene, I don't know much about that, but I know it's there…& I know it's good. Obviously the club scene. You don't know club music until you come into New Jersey... SERIOUSLY. - - - - "We don't pump our gas ... we pump our fists."Just shut the fuck up.
If you go to Seaside boardwalk or Belmar. You'll probably see some of the trashiest, skankiest girls & some of the most guido, gelled up hair, armani exchange wearing boys that take too many steroids and have too much sex… But they are gorgeous and they know how to dance better than anyone you ever met in your life. So yeah, the stereotype that all jersey chicks are trashy, is true ... but only if you go to Seaside. That's pretty much it. The rest of the state is full of confident, beautiful people that speak their mind.The majority of Jersey people are Italian, or wish they were. We drink & smoke way too much. Oh yeah and we throw the sickest parties ... in the woods.
What else? Giants, Jets, Nets, and of course the Devils. They'rebetter than you. So shut the fuck up. And we have more Yankee fans than New York City. Come to jersey with a sox hat on ... I fuckin' dare you!And oh yeah, we say "yo." Often. And "fuck." I don't complain that you say "y'all" so don't complain that I say "yo."
To sum up New Jersey, yeah, most of the stereotypes are true,probably for about 5 percent of the state. The rest of the state is beautiful.And yeah, we hate you. We love ourselves. Wanna know why? Because all you bitches hate us. How would you feel if the other 49 states spent all their time talking shit? We deserve to be our own country cause we're that cool.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Pretty Cool
Members of the SouthernPigskin.com Staff detail and rank the top gameday atmospheres in the ACC.
1. Clemson – There is Orange – everywhere. Paw prints dot streets, flag and banners hang from light poles, buildings are dowsed in orange garb, if they aren’t orange already, and fans in orange shirts, shorts, headgear, even overalls, flood the campus. Then there’s the stadium. Memorial Stadium, better known around college football as Death Valley, juts out of the ground like a mountaintop with two towering side structures eyeing the playing field and stands as a testament to one of the best football programs and most rabid fan bases in the south. The most daunting venue in the ACC, Death Valley is an 83,000-seat paradigm of pandemonium. As if the fans needed any help, the structure of Memorial Stadium only adds to the madness. Noise has nowhere to go, making on-field volume levels beyond ridiculous. It’s like sticking your head in a tin bucket, then beating it with a hammer. To quote former Florida State quarterback Chris Rix, "Florida was loud in the Swamp. But the loudest, not only stadium, but the loudest place I have been around in my life was definitely Death Valley. I was yelling at the top of my lungs in that first series, and I couldn't even hear what I was saying." The rubbing of Howard’s Rock and the pre-game run down the hill has been labeled as, “the most exciting 25 seconds in college football,” and is one of the game’s proudest and most recognizable traditions. One aspect of Clemson gameday that separates the Tigers from other schools is the tailgaiting. These fans do it as early, as hard and as long as any fans in the game and do so in mind-boggling numbers on Friday nights and Saturday mornings. On gamedays, Clemson becomes the third largest city in South Carolina. While passionate and at times overbearing, Tiger fans are generally regarded as gracious hosts by league visitors.
1. Clemson – There is Orange – everywhere. Paw prints dot streets, flag and banners hang from light poles, buildings are dowsed in orange garb, if they aren’t orange already, and fans in orange shirts, shorts, headgear, even overalls, flood the campus. Then there’s the stadium. Memorial Stadium, better known around college football as Death Valley, juts out of the ground like a mountaintop with two towering side structures eyeing the playing field and stands as a testament to one of the best football programs and most rabid fan bases in the south. The most daunting venue in the ACC, Death Valley is an 83,000-seat paradigm of pandemonium. As if the fans needed any help, the structure of Memorial Stadium only adds to the madness. Noise has nowhere to go, making on-field volume levels beyond ridiculous. It’s like sticking your head in a tin bucket, then beating it with a hammer. To quote former Florida State quarterback Chris Rix, "Florida was loud in the Swamp. But the loudest, not only stadium, but the loudest place I have been around in my life was definitely Death Valley. I was yelling at the top of my lungs in that first series, and I couldn't even hear what I was saying." The rubbing of Howard’s Rock and the pre-game run down the hill has been labeled as, “the most exciting 25 seconds in college football,” and is one of the game’s proudest and most recognizable traditions. One aspect of Clemson gameday that separates the Tigers from other schools is the tailgaiting. These fans do it as early, as hard and as long as any fans in the game and do so in mind-boggling numbers on Friday nights and Saturday mornings. On gamedays, Clemson becomes the third largest city in South Carolina. While passionate and at times overbearing, Tiger fans are generally regarded as gracious hosts by league visitors.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
This Is What I'm Talking About!
As I've said before about Greg Buckner, here is another reason he's such a role model of mine and evidence that people recognize him as such!
New York, NY--In recognition of Greg Buckner's outstanding efforts in the community and for his ongoing philanthropic work, the NBA announced today it has honored the Dallas Mavericks guard with the Community Assist Award for February.
Buckner was an All-ACC guard for the Tigers from 1994-98. He led the Tigers to three consecutive NCAA Tournament appearances from 1996-98, including a berth in the Sweet 16 in 1997. He was inducted into the Clemson Athletic Hall of Fame in 2006. A seven-year NBA veteran, Buckner has worked hard to make a difference in the Dallas/Fort Worth area by implementing a number of initiatives to benefit the local community. Buckner started his award-winning month on Feb. 2, when he spent the afternoon at the Mavs' All-Star Miracle Home making breakfast with children from local hospitals to help increase sales of raffle tickets. The home is being raffled off to raise money for the Mavs Foundation and two local children's hospitals in Dallas and Fort Worth.
On Feb. 8, the Greg Buckner Foundation launched the "Buck"ets of Books program, designed to instill a love of reading and learning in children and young adults. Buckner visited Coyote Ridge Elementary in Dallas to launch the program as well as help the students celebrate Black History Month. He read a story about the influential African-American leader, Rosa Parks, to 80 second grade students and delivered a message on the importance of education.
"I am very excited to be bringing some of my favorite programs to the Dallas area," said Buckner. "We've had much success with them in Denver and know that the Dallas youth will get a lot out of them as well. My vision is to help educate and develop our youth academically, morally, and socially."
As February drew to a close, Buckner and a barbershop in North Dallas teamed up to sponsor haircuts for 30 kids from the Buckner Children and Family Services on Feb. 25. The Greg Buckner Foundation brought out the Mavs Street Team to provide entertainment and Buckner was on-hand to check out all the kids' new hairstyles. His foundation also hosted a basketball clinic for 60 kids from the Boys & Girls Club of Richardson where the kids were taught the fundamentals of basketball including shooting, passing, dribbling, defense and rebounding.
The Greg Buckner Foundation has also launched Buckner All-Stars, a program designed to reward high school and middle school students from the Dallas Area who have excelled in the areas of academics, community service, and extra-curricular activities. Four scholarship winners will be recognized before Mavs games on March 30 and April 13, where they will meet the Mavericks guard. Buckner also created the G-Buck Student Athlete Tutoring Program to provide tutoring for local high school basketball players, who have demonstrated a need for academic assistance. Tutors and students are rewarded with a reception at the end of the school year.
As the recipient of the NBA Community Assist Award, Buckner will receive the David Robinson Plaque with the inscription, "Following the standard set by NBA Legend David Robinson who improved the community piece by piece." He received the award prior to the Dallas vs. Phoenix game on Wednesday night. In addition to the plaque, a $5,000 donation will be given to The Greg Buckner Foundation. The league presents the NBA Community Assist Award monthly to recognize players for their charitable efforts. The award honors the NBA player who reflects the passion that the league and its players have for giving back to their communities.
New York, NY--In recognition of Greg Buckner's outstanding efforts in the community and for his ongoing philanthropic work, the NBA announced today it has honored the Dallas Mavericks guard with the Community Assist Award for February.
Buckner was an All-ACC guard for the Tigers from 1994-98. He led the Tigers to three consecutive NCAA Tournament appearances from 1996-98, including a berth in the Sweet 16 in 1997. He was inducted into the Clemson Athletic Hall of Fame in 2006. A seven-year NBA veteran, Buckner has worked hard to make a difference in the Dallas/Fort Worth area by implementing a number of initiatives to benefit the local community. Buckner started his award-winning month on Feb. 2, when he spent the afternoon at the Mavs' All-Star Miracle Home making breakfast with children from local hospitals to help increase sales of raffle tickets. The home is being raffled off to raise money for the Mavs Foundation and two local children's hospitals in Dallas and Fort Worth.
On Feb. 8, the Greg Buckner Foundation launched the "Buck"ets of Books program, designed to instill a love of reading and learning in children and young adults. Buckner visited Coyote Ridge Elementary in Dallas to launch the program as well as help the students celebrate Black History Month. He read a story about the influential African-American leader, Rosa Parks, to 80 second grade students and delivered a message on the importance of education.
"I am very excited to be bringing some of my favorite programs to the Dallas area," said Buckner. "We've had much success with them in Denver and know that the Dallas youth will get a lot out of them as well. My vision is to help educate and develop our youth academically, morally, and socially."
As February drew to a close, Buckner and a barbershop in North Dallas teamed up to sponsor haircuts for 30 kids from the Buckner Children and Family Services on Feb. 25. The Greg Buckner Foundation brought out the Mavs Street Team to provide entertainment and Buckner was on-hand to check out all the kids' new hairstyles. His foundation also hosted a basketball clinic for 60 kids from the Boys & Girls Club of Richardson where the kids were taught the fundamentals of basketball including shooting, passing, dribbling, defense and rebounding.
The Greg Buckner Foundation has also launched Buckner All-Stars, a program designed to reward high school and middle school students from the Dallas Area who have excelled in the areas of academics, community service, and extra-curricular activities. Four scholarship winners will be recognized before Mavs games on March 30 and April 13, where they will meet the Mavericks guard. Buckner also created the G-Buck Student Athlete Tutoring Program to provide tutoring for local high school basketball players, who have demonstrated a need for academic assistance. Tutors and students are rewarded with a reception at the end of the school year.
As the recipient of the NBA Community Assist Award, Buckner will receive the David Robinson Plaque with the inscription, "Following the standard set by NBA Legend David Robinson who improved the community piece by piece." He received the award prior to the Dallas vs. Phoenix game on Wednesday night. In addition to the plaque, a $5,000 donation will be given to The Greg Buckner Foundation. The league presents the NBA Community Assist Award monthly to recognize players for their charitable efforts. The award honors the NBA player who reflects the passion that the league and its players have for giving back to their communities.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
HILARIOUS!!!
I think this may be one of the funniest emails I've ever received. I especially like #4. Enjoy!
IT'S TIME FOR YOUR ANNUAL "AM I GAY?" SELF EXAMINATION FOR MEN:
1. If you are over thirty five, and you have a wash board stomach, you are gay. It means you haven't sucked back enough beer with the boys and have spent the rest of your free time doing sit-ups, aerobics, and doing the Oprah diet.
2. If you have a cat, you are a Flaaaaaming homo. A cat is like a dog, but gay -- it grooms itself constantly but never scratches itself, has a delicate touch except when it uses its nails, and whines to be fed. And just think about how you call a dog... "Killer, come here! I said get your ass over here, Killer!" Now think about how you call a cat..."Bun-bun, come to daddy, snookums!" Jeeezus, you're fit to be framed, you're so gay.
3. If you suck on lollipops, Ring-Pops, baby pacifiers, or any such nonsense, rest assured, you are a Gaylord. A straight man only sucks on bar-b-que ribs, crab claws, raw oysters, crawfish guts, pickled pigs feet, or tits. Anything else and you are in training to suck El Dicko and undeniably a fag.
4. If you refuse to take a dump in a public bathroom or p!ss in a Parking lot, you crave a deep homosexual relationship. A man's world is his bathroom; he defecates and urinates where he pleases.
5. If you drink decaf coffee, you like a high hard one in the poop chute. A straight man will never be heard ordering a "Decaf Soy Latte". If you've put a Decaf Soy Latte to your lips, you've had a man there, too.
6. If you know more than six names of colors or four different types of dessert, you might as well be handing out free passes to your ass. A real man doesn't have memory space in his brain to remember all of that crap as well as all the names of all the players in the Major league, NFL, NHL, college ball,! PGA and NASCAR. If you can pick out chartreuse or you know what a "fressier" is you're gay. And if you can name ANY type of textile other than denim, you are faggadocious.
7. If you drive with both hands on the wheel, forget it, you're dying to tune a meat whistle. A man only puts both hands on the wheel to honk at a slow-ass driver or to cut the punk off. The rest of the time he needs that hand to change the radio station, eat a hamburger, hold his beer, scratch his balls, or play with his broad in the passenger seat.
IT'S TIME FOR YOUR ANNUAL "AM I GAY?" SELF EXAMINATION FOR MEN:
1. If you are over thirty five, and you have a wash board stomach, you are gay. It means you haven't sucked back enough beer with the boys and have spent the rest of your free time doing sit-ups, aerobics, and doing the Oprah diet.
2. If you have a cat, you are a Flaaaaaming homo. A cat is like a dog, but gay -- it grooms itself constantly but never scratches itself, has a delicate touch except when it uses its nails, and whines to be fed. And just think about how you call a dog... "Killer, come here! I said get your ass over here, Killer!" Now think about how you call a cat..."Bun-bun, come to daddy, snookums!" Jeeezus, you're fit to be framed, you're so gay.
3. If you suck on lollipops, Ring-Pops, baby pacifiers, or any such nonsense, rest assured, you are a Gaylord. A straight man only sucks on bar-b-que ribs, crab claws, raw oysters, crawfish guts, pickled pigs feet, or tits. Anything else and you are in training to suck El Dicko and undeniably a fag.
4. If you refuse to take a dump in a public bathroom or p!ss in a Parking lot, you crave a deep homosexual relationship. A man's world is his bathroom; he defecates and urinates where he pleases.
5. If you drink decaf coffee, you like a high hard one in the poop chute. A straight man will never be heard ordering a "Decaf Soy Latte". If you've put a Decaf Soy Latte to your lips, you've had a man there, too.
6. If you know more than six names of colors or four different types of dessert, you might as well be handing out free passes to your ass. A real man doesn't have memory space in his brain to remember all of that crap as well as all the names of all the players in the Major league, NFL, NHL, college ball,! PGA and NASCAR. If you can pick out chartreuse or you know what a "fressier" is you're gay. And if you can name ANY type of textile other than denim, you are faggadocious.
7. If you drive with both hands on the wheel, forget it, you're dying to tune a meat whistle. A man only puts both hands on the wheel to honk at a slow-ass driver or to cut the punk off. The rest of the time he needs that hand to change the radio station, eat a hamburger, hold his beer, scratch his balls, or play with his broad in the passenger seat.
Extreme Makeover: Home Edition; Tampa Style
Not only is this the weekend that Extreme Makeover: Home Edition is the episode from Tampa, but it's on Davis Island. The place that I've spoken of over and over again in the past. Some of my loyal readers have been here. People from all over the states have enjoyed the small-town feel in the small city of Tampa. Well Sunday night on ABC, the Tate's family gets a new house. It's already up and they're living in it currently and I should say that it's one of the nicest houses on the island. Ty and my girl did a hell of a job on it.
Some may ask, "Creegs, are we going to see that big head of yours on the screen?" The answer quite honestly is "no." I don't know what I did or where I went, but I was out of town the weekend they said, "MOVE THAT BUS!" and seemed to miss the camera's when they came into Tate's Brothers Pizza. The local pizza joint and bar on the island owned by the owner of the house.
It'll be a good episode, and a lot of the people on the show are people that I know and deal with on a daily basis. I know I can't wait to watch. Hopefully you will too and realize that I live in paradise.
Some may ask, "Creegs, are we going to see that big head of yours on the screen?" The answer quite honestly is "no." I don't know what I did or where I went, but I was out of town the weekend they said, "MOVE THAT BUS!" and seemed to miss the camera's when they came into Tate's Brothers Pizza. The local pizza joint and bar on the island owned by the owner of the house.
It'll be a good episode, and a lot of the people on the show are people that I know and deal with on a daily basis. I know I can't wait to watch. Hopefully you will too and realize that I live in paradise.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Where Has Creegs Been?!?!
I got off the phone with Yarbs yesterday and he said that I must have been too busy to throw up a message or post, or whatever you call this thing. He was correct in that assumption. I've been extremely busy with work, having a new territory, that has been my main focus trying to build it and pick up where my co-worker and college friend on the other side of the state left off after getting a promotion. It's like having a new job. I've spent two years gaining and maintaining relationships with 17 counties on the west coast of Florida, but not seven counties were taken away from me, and I have seven more on the east coast. I went from being the "West Coast of FL" rep to the "Central Florida" rep. I spend a whole week one time a month in Orlando, which, for those of you not from Florida or don't live in Florida would think is cool. The land of Mickey. But when you're picking up books from portable classrooms, closets, bathrooms, etc. It's not that exciting. Is it getting me a lot of money? Somewhat. Depending on your idea of a lot of money. In my mind, it's good money. So it was worth picking up books from a bathroom stall at a high school in Orlando. Oh well.
People have also asked how I've been. What's been going on in my world? Well, I do have a lot going on, but nothing really "blogworthy." I do have a story, probably shouldn't tell on this forum, but it is typical Creegs. I have a problem with urinating in public. I've been cited twice for it, caught at least four times now by (insert town/city name)'s finest. Well I've stooped to a whole new low. I've also been known to have pooping issues. A couple of stories are infamous. I believe I may have added another to that list. When I see you all in the future I'll do the stand-up act that is this story, but here's the text.
I went fishing a few weeks ago. That's right, me, fishing. Well I'm not really the big fisherman, so I really was there to do the drinking while two of my buddies sat and watched the water. Another reason I went was because I really like water, and the island has a lot of great views and channels, etc. (and Tino Martinez live out here, love that guy!) Anyway, we had 36 beers and two 32s of Bud Light in the cooler while we...er...they were fishing. I had probably about 6-7 beers before we decided to go back, wash up and head over to a local watering hole for dinner and more drinks, meet up with more people, what have you. Anyway, we get back to Bama's house and there's a big bottle of vodka there from one of my previous visits to Bear Bryant's son's house.(he's not really Bears son, just feeling silly.) Anyway, I had three-four BayBreezes(vodka/orange juice, splash of cranberry) with Can'tMiss and then it was off to the local watering hole. To say that I remember the ride TO the bar would be a lie. We head in, sit right at the bar, order up some dinner. To say that I remember what I ate would ALSO be a lie. I remember Can'tMiss talking to a lady that was significantly older, trying to get her back to the island for more drinking and more of his advances. I think the bartenders name was Precious. Not sure that was God-given or not. Interesting. She was pregnant. I was not quiet. On to the point of the story. We get back to the island. Bama and his boy head home to go to sleep which I probably should have done, but my mind was blurred by vodka and Bud Light. We head to the outdoor bar on the island, and now I have to poop. So I head to the bathroom, and the stall is taken and I'm at a point of no return. I walk out the back door(no pun intended) and head over to Hunter's brother and sisters place, not too far from the bar. Well, nature got the best of me and that's about as far as I'll go with the story. Ask me for the rest when I see you. Not only have I pee'd in public, I've now pooped in public. Lucky for me, the police stayed away from me. Reminded me of a scene from Friday where Smokey is on the side of the house and Ezell sees him. If you haven't seen that movie, check it out. It was eerily similar.
Three weeks until St. Patty's in Savannah. A lot of people will be in the house! Smoke went ahead and got himself a promotion, and some shenanigans about 6 month training for the position will prevent he and Earp from joining us. We're not surprised though. It was to be expected. Robber may not make it either because of work. But lucky for him, he'll be in Vegas. Looking forward to seeing everybody. Hunt, FineCheese, PulledPork, Beef, Beefette, ZDP, Yarbs, Belle, Wolv, etc. Should be a blast! Hopefully I'll be more current on this thing. Who knows if that'll actually happen, but you should check back maybe once a week for a new post in the future. I'll try to have more "worthy" stories. I didn't even touch on Gasparilla, the day street party held here annually at the end of January. I was in bed by 9:30pm. Nuff said. Maybe I'll revisit that in the coming days.
Hope everyone is well. I did get a new phone number. If you don't have it, please let me know and I'll get it to you.
People have also asked how I've been. What's been going on in my world? Well, I do have a lot going on, but nothing really "blogworthy." I do have a story, probably shouldn't tell on this forum, but it is typical Creegs. I have a problem with urinating in public. I've been cited twice for it, caught at least four times now by (insert town/city name)'s finest. Well I've stooped to a whole new low. I've also been known to have pooping issues. A couple of stories are infamous. I believe I may have added another to that list. When I see you all in the future I'll do the stand-up act that is this story, but here's the text.
I went fishing a few weeks ago. That's right, me, fishing. Well I'm not really the big fisherman, so I really was there to do the drinking while two of my buddies sat and watched the water. Another reason I went was because I really like water, and the island has a lot of great views and channels, etc. (and Tino Martinez live out here, love that guy!) Anyway, we had 36 beers and two 32s of Bud Light in the cooler while we...er...they were fishing. I had probably about 6-7 beers before we decided to go back, wash up and head over to a local watering hole for dinner and more drinks, meet up with more people, what have you. Anyway, we get back to Bama's house and there's a big bottle of vodka there from one of my previous visits to Bear Bryant's son's house.(he's not really Bears son, just feeling silly.) Anyway, I had three-four BayBreezes(vodka/orange juice, splash of cranberry) with Can'tMiss and then it was off to the local watering hole. To say that I remember the ride TO the bar would be a lie. We head in, sit right at the bar, order up some dinner. To say that I remember what I ate would ALSO be a lie. I remember Can'tMiss talking to a lady that was significantly older, trying to get her back to the island for more drinking and more of his advances. I think the bartenders name was Precious. Not sure that was God-given or not. Interesting. She was pregnant. I was not quiet. On to the point of the story. We get back to the island. Bama and his boy head home to go to sleep which I probably should have done, but my mind was blurred by vodka and Bud Light. We head to the outdoor bar on the island, and now I have to poop. So I head to the bathroom, and the stall is taken and I'm at a point of no return. I walk out the back door(no pun intended) and head over to Hunter's brother and sisters place, not too far from the bar. Well, nature got the best of me and that's about as far as I'll go with the story. Ask me for the rest when I see you. Not only have I pee'd in public, I've now pooped in public. Lucky for me, the police stayed away from me. Reminded me of a scene from Friday where Smokey is on the side of the house and Ezell sees him. If you haven't seen that movie, check it out. It was eerily similar.
Three weeks until St. Patty's in Savannah. A lot of people will be in the house! Smoke went ahead and got himself a promotion, and some shenanigans about 6 month training for the position will prevent he and Earp from joining us. We're not surprised though. It was to be expected. Robber may not make it either because of work. But lucky for him, he'll be in Vegas. Looking forward to seeing everybody. Hunt, FineCheese, PulledPork, Beef, Beefette, ZDP, Yarbs, Belle, Wolv, etc. Should be a blast! Hopefully I'll be more current on this thing. Who knows if that'll actually happen, but you should check back maybe once a week for a new post in the future. I'll try to have more "worthy" stories. I didn't even touch on Gasparilla, the day street party held here annually at the end of January. I was in bed by 9:30pm. Nuff said. Maybe I'll revisit that in the coming days.
Hope everyone is well. I did get a new phone number. If you don't have it, please let me know and I'll get it to you.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Clemson Is The Best Place Ever
This is a blog I took from the Clemson message board website. It's about a coach that took a job at West Virginia, then decided that he didn't want to leave Clemson. It gave me chills.
Why Come Back?I was asked yesterday, “Why did Ron West come back to Clemson after taking the West Virginia job?”
The question came from a friend in his middle 40s who went to Clemson, moved away and since returned to live and work here.
Never answer a question with a question but I could not resist. “Why did you come back?” I inquired.
“Yeah but he turned down more money,” he then retracted and added “So did I.”
In fact he turned down a better title, much like my friend.
I have been waiting to write a fluffy, feel good blog but now it is pretty timely. Ron West came back to Clemson because it is Clemson.
Joe Sherman claimed, “There’s Something In These Hills.” I believe it. My friend believed it. In fact, most of my Clemson friends believe it and apparently Ron West believes it.
I moved back to Clemson at the age of 37 and after living here for 18 months I ask myself all of the time, “Why did it take you this long to get back here?”
Clemson is not perfect and we have a lot of things we can improve upon. This is not a national title contender at this time and the program has not been what it was 18 years ago. But I found it amazing that coaches love to come here. I find it more amazing that they do not want to leave once they get here. And I find it even more amazing that many think about coming back to retire here after their coaching days are over.
Assistants leave in their pursuit of a head coaching positions but how many coaches have left Clemson as a head coach to take another position? Press Maravich left for a better basketball job at NC State and soon turned it into the head coaching post at LSU. Rick Barnes also left for Texas. Charlie Pell left for Florida. I can’t remember anyone else. I don’t count John Heisman, Josh Cody or Jess Neely because we did not have the lake yet and our town was much different then.
Quite frankly coaches love coaching here. They love the size of the town. They love the schools. They love the lake. They love the mountains. They love the campus and the community. Perhaps more importantly, their wives love it and we all know that no one is happy if momma is not happy.
At one point in time I have had assistant coaches like Woody McCorvey, Ellis Johnson, Tommy West, Miles Aldridge, Rick Stockstill, Burton Burns and a few other tell me their happiest years in coaching were at Clemson. Burns told me last week that his family may consider keeping their house and maybe retiring here one day.
Speaking of coaches retiring and returning to Clemson, that is exactly what Larry van der Hayden, Whitey Jordan and Lawson Holland have done. Danny Ford kept his farm after the stint at Arkansas because he knew he wanted to return home. I don’t think Bill Wilhelm and Jim Davis ever considered leaving after their coaching days ended.
If Sherman was wrong then why are people coming back in record numbers? My friend Tom Winkopp laid it out beautifully for me when he explained why his projects are so successful. Real estate is about location, location, location and apparently Clemson is a grea location. Winkopp projects sellout many times before construction is completed.
National advertising works for the Cliffs communities because of the area. I was shocked to find out that many of the multi-million dollar homes being sold on Keowee, Jocassee and Hartwell are third homes. I can barely afford my one home but people are doing well to afford these third homes. I am not Donald Trump or Tom Winkopp but it does not take a genius to get the idea that people don’t buy third homes in common, everyday settings.
How many towns or cities have a lake downtown like we do at Clemson?
But its not just the lake and mountains.
Where else does a cheeseburger come with conversations like you get at Mac’s?
Had a better hot dog than at Skins? All you can eat crab legs or a rack of ribs from Sardis is good enough to make any man move back. Please name a better chicken salad sandwich than the ones they serve at Goobers. Ever been to Dyers after church on Sunday? If you have then you don’t have to ask why Ron West came back.
Ever had a better beer than the ones they serve at the Esso?
Where else can you go to a doctor like Bill Dukes or a dentist like Jere Ross?
What is better the clothes at Mr. Knickerbocker or the scoop?
Go stand on the tenth tee at the Walker Course and you will not ask why Ron West returned.
Clemson is maybe more about the people than anything else. It’s the Terry Longs, Lane Millers, Byron Harders, Billy Wares and Al Whitleys of the community that really make it.
There is not enough space on this blog for me to explain it to those who have not been here. I could go on about the botanical gardens or name another few hundred people that make this place special but I think that is enough fluff for today.
In the end, Ron and Becky West realized what many of us already know. There really is something in these hills.
Why Come Back?I was asked yesterday, “Why did Ron West come back to Clemson after taking the West Virginia job?”
The question came from a friend in his middle 40s who went to Clemson, moved away and since returned to live and work here.
Never answer a question with a question but I could not resist. “Why did you come back?” I inquired.
“Yeah but he turned down more money,” he then retracted and added “So did I.”
In fact he turned down a better title, much like my friend.
I have been waiting to write a fluffy, feel good blog but now it is pretty timely. Ron West came back to Clemson because it is Clemson.
Joe Sherman claimed, “There’s Something In These Hills.” I believe it. My friend believed it. In fact, most of my Clemson friends believe it and apparently Ron West believes it.
I moved back to Clemson at the age of 37 and after living here for 18 months I ask myself all of the time, “Why did it take you this long to get back here?”
Clemson is not perfect and we have a lot of things we can improve upon. This is not a national title contender at this time and the program has not been what it was 18 years ago. But I found it amazing that coaches love to come here. I find it more amazing that they do not want to leave once they get here. And I find it even more amazing that many think about coming back to retire here after their coaching days are over.
Assistants leave in their pursuit of a head coaching positions but how many coaches have left Clemson as a head coach to take another position? Press Maravich left for a better basketball job at NC State and soon turned it into the head coaching post at LSU. Rick Barnes also left for Texas. Charlie Pell left for Florida. I can’t remember anyone else. I don’t count John Heisman, Josh Cody or Jess Neely because we did not have the lake yet and our town was much different then.
Quite frankly coaches love coaching here. They love the size of the town. They love the schools. They love the lake. They love the mountains. They love the campus and the community. Perhaps more importantly, their wives love it and we all know that no one is happy if momma is not happy.
At one point in time I have had assistant coaches like Woody McCorvey, Ellis Johnson, Tommy West, Miles Aldridge, Rick Stockstill, Burton Burns and a few other tell me their happiest years in coaching were at Clemson. Burns told me last week that his family may consider keeping their house and maybe retiring here one day.
Speaking of coaches retiring and returning to Clemson, that is exactly what Larry van der Hayden, Whitey Jordan and Lawson Holland have done. Danny Ford kept his farm after the stint at Arkansas because he knew he wanted to return home. I don’t think Bill Wilhelm and Jim Davis ever considered leaving after their coaching days ended.
If Sherman was wrong then why are people coming back in record numbers? My friend Tom Winkopp laid it out beautifully for me when he explained why his projects are so successful. Real estate is about location, location, location and apparently Clemson is a grea location. Winkopp projects sellout many times before construction is completed.
National advertising works for the Cliffs communities because of the area. I was shocked to find out that many of the multi-million dollar homes being sold on Keowee, Jocassee and Hartwell are third homes. I can barely afford my one home but people are doing well to afford these third homes. I am not Donald Trump or Tom Winkopp but it does not take a genius to get the idea that people don’t buy third homes in common, everyday settings.
How many towns or cities have a lake downtown like we do at Clemson?
But its not just the lake and mountains.
Where else does a cheeseburger come with conversations like you get at Mac’s?
Had a better hot dog than at Skins? All you can eat crab legs or a rack of ribs from Sardis is good enough to make any man move back. Please name a better chicken salad sandwich than the ones they serve at Goobers. Ever been to Dyers after church on Sunday? If you have then you don’t have to ask why Ron West came back.
Ever had a better beer than the ones they serve at the Esso?
Where else can you go to a doctor like Bill Dukes or a dentist like Jere Ross?
What is better the clothes at Mr. Knickerbocker or the scoop?
Go stand on the tenth tee at the Walker Course and you will not ask why Ron West returned.
Clemson is maybe more about the people than anything else. It’s the Terry Longs, Lane Millers, Byron Harders, Billy Wares and Al Whitleys of the community that really make it.
There is not enough space on this blog for me to explain it to those who have not been here. I could go on about the botanical gardens or name another few hundred people that make this place special but I think that is enough fluff for today.
In the end, Ron and Becky West realized what many of us already know. There really is something in these hills.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Funny Email About My Friends
Here's an email exchange I just had. It seems to be the epitome of my married friends from home. I thought the email was hilarious. Enjoy.
From: Smoke
Sent: Thursday, January 18, 2007 4:59 PM
To: Creegs
Subject: RE:
That's why I didn't call back. I have no news. I am boring. My life islike "Groundhog Day" - I begrudgingly wake up while it is still darkout, I eat the same breakfast (waffles and water) while I watchSportsCenter, then I drive to work. I talk to a bunch of advisors whodon't really want to talk to me, I try to sell funds but with minimalsuccess. I drive home, maybe stop by the gym to walk in one place for 30minutes, and then go home and eat dinner. At 10pm, I go to bed and thenget up again the next day and do it all over again. See, I saved you phone minutes! Blah! ---
--Original Message-----
From: Creegs
Sent: Thursday, January 18, 2007 4:52 PM
To: Smoke
Subject: RE:
luscious?!?! that's hot. Didn't want to talk about anything. I was just calling to say what up. See what's going on around your home front.Nothing mind bending.
From: Smoke
To: Creegs
Subject: RE:
Date: Thu, 18 Jan 2007 16:11:43
As for the call back, what did you want to talk about luscious?
From: Smoke
Sent: Thursday, January 18, 2007 4:59 PM
To: Creegs
Subject: RE:
That's why I didn't call back. I have no news. I am boring. My life islike "Groundhog Day" - I begrudgingly wake up while it is still darkout, I eat the same breakfast (waffles and water) while I watchSportsCenter, then I drive to work. I talk to a bunch of advisors whodon't really want to talk to me, I try to sell funds but with minimalsuccess. I drive home, maybe stop by the gym to walk in one place for 30minutes, and then go home and eat dinner. At 10pm, I go to bed and thenget up again the next day and do it all over again. See, I saved you phone minutes! Blah! ---
--Original Message-----
From: Creegs
Sent: Thursday, January 18, 2007 4:52 PM
To: Smoke
Subject: RE:
luscious?!?! that's hot. Didn't want to talk about anything. I was just calling to say what up. See what's going on around your home front.Nothing mind bending.
From: Smoke
To: Creegs
Subject: RE:
Date: Thu, 18 Jan 2007 16:11:43
As for the call back, what did you want to talk about luscious?
Friday, January 12, 2007
Clemson Basketball...for the Future
(Note: two posts today, this is the second one, there's one right below this one)
All that know me well know that I was a manager of Clemson basketball under Rick Barnes (Texas head coach), Larry Shyatt(UF Associate Head Coach), Dennis Felton (UGA head coach), and Ken MacDonald (Texas Associate Head Coach) during my freshman year and part of my sophomore year before I left to do something about that acting bug I had. Well it was well known that my favorite player to work with was Greg Buckner, current NBA player with the Dallas Mavericks. Here's a great story on him that I thought I should share from the Charleston Post and Courier. Enjoy!
Clemson's next basketball coach
Published: 1/12/2007
DALLAS - Hey, Clemson management and fans, listen up.
Boy, have I got a deal for you: A head coach insurance policy that goes beyond Oliver Purnell. An heir apparent for whenever Purnell retires, or is fired, or bolts for the NBA, or parlays a Clemson Final Four appearance into a better college job. Texas? Duke?
No rush.
This candidate isn't even finished playing in the NBA.
But, oh, what a candidate. Smart and personable. A veteran philanthropist. Ex-Clemson star guard. Kid brother helped Duke win an NCAA championship. Willing to complete his degree and work his way up.
Greg Buckner says all the right things, too.
Like ...
"My dream job is to coach back at Clemson," Buckner said inside the Dallas Mavericks locker room, home of the team with the NBA's best record. "I want to bring Clemson a championship, bring Clemson to the basketball elite. I don't want it just to be known as a football school."
And ...
"I don't like Clemson playing the kind of non-conference schedules they always do. I know the ACC schedule is tough, but I want to play the big boys in non-conference games."
Glory days
Let it be known that Buckner thoroughly respects Purnell and what he has done to get the No. 17 Tigers to 17-0 going into Saturday's game at Maryland.
What Buckner wants is a kind of consistency Tigers fans enjoyed during his years on campus: Three straight NCAA Tournament appearances under Rick Barnes from 1996-98.
Buckner's place as one of Clemson's greatest players is secure, thanks to his consistent impact during four seasons as a starter.
He won the ACC Rookie of the Year award in 1995, leading an overachieving Clemson team to the NIT in Barnes' first year as head coach.
His last-second dunk in 1996 gave Clemson a precious and unprecedented ACC Tournament victory over UNC to seal an NCAA Tournament bid.
He led Clemson to the Sweet Sixteen of the 1997 NCAA Tournament, where a double-overtime loss to Minnesota in San Antonio cost the Tigers an Elite Eight shot at UCLA.
He was Clemson's leading scorer in 1998 for a record fourth straight season, and helped the Tigers earn a third consecutive NCAA Tournament bid. Then Buckner ran out of eligibility and Barnes left for Texas.
Clemson hasn't been back to The Big Dance since.
"Yeah, I'm well aware of that," Buckner said. "These guys (Mavericks teammates) remind me all the time."
The Tigers with Buckner in the lineup won four times against South Carolina and broke school records for home attendance.
"Every team needs a (really tough guy) and Buckner is our (really tough guy)," is the printable version of Barnes' frequent praise of Buckner's measurable and intangible talent.
Charity work
At 30 and in his eighth NBA season,
Buckner has his best chance to win an NBA title. Flamboyant owner Mark Cuban and the Mavericks gave Buckner his NBA start and re-signed Buckner after he spent the last four seasons with the Philadelphia 76ers and Denver Nuggets.
"We have a great opportunity to win a championship, and that's the reason I came back," said Buckner, who is averaging 4.6 points per game as a reserve. "For Mark Cuban and (General Manager) Donn Nelson to invite me back, it's been a blessing."
At all of his NBA stops, Buckner has been heavily involved in charity work. He founded GBUCK - Giving Back an Unconditional Commitment to Kids (www.gregbucknerfoundation.net) - in his hometown of Hopkinsville, Ky.
"It's important to me because I've been around a lot of unfortunate kids who didn't get what I felt was a proper education," Buckner said. "I just want to help those little ones and improve their educational background. It's a shame when you're 15 or 16 and you can't read or write. I just feel like I should give back and try to give those kids and opportunity."
Such father-figure leadership is what might make Buckner a fine college basketball coach, in the mold of his former Clemson mentor.
"It's obvious that Coach Barnes is a special guy," Buckner said. "Look at what he's done with the Texas program, too. He could recruit and he could relate to his players, yet was very stern and very disciplined. That's why we had some good years while I was there."
Buckner was also why those years were so successful, and why one of Buckner's Clemson jerseys is autographed, framed and on display in Barnes' Texas office.
Hey, Clemson management, are you listening?
All that know me well know that I was a manager of Clemson basketball under Rick Barnes (Texas head coach), Larry Shyatt(UF Associate Head Coach), Dennis Felton (UGA head coach), and Ken MacDonald (Texas Associate Head Coach) during my freshman year and part of my sophomore year before I left to do something about that acting bug I had. Well it was well known that my favorite player to work with was Greg Buckner, current NBA player with the Dallas Mavericks. Here's a great story on him that I thought I should share from the Charleston Post and Courier. Enjoy!
Clemson's next basketball coach
Published: 1/12/2007
DALLAS - Hey, Clemson management and fans, listen up.
Boy, have I got a deal for you: A head coach insurance policy that goes beyond Oliver Purnell. An heir apparent for whenever Purnell retires, or is fired, or bolts for the NBA, or parlays a Clemson Final Four appearance into a better college job. Texas? Duke?
No rush.
This candidate isn't even finished playing in the NBA.
But, oh, what a candidate. Smart and personable. A veteran philanthropist. Ex-Clemson star guard. Kid brother helped Duke win an NCAA championship. Willing to complete his degree and work his way up.
Greg Buckner says all the right things, too.
Like ...
"My dream job is to coach back at Clemson," Buckner said inside the Dallas Mavericks locker room, home of the team with the NBA's best record. "I want to bring Clemson a championship, bring Clemson to the basketball elite. I don't want it just to be known as a football school."
And ...
"I don't like Clemson playing the kind of non-conference schedules they always do. I know the ACC schedule is tough, but I want to play the big boys in non-conference games."
Glory days
Let it be known that Buckner thoroughly respects Purnell and what he has done to get the No. 17 Tigers to 17-0 going into Saturday's game at Maryland.
What Buckner wants is a kind of consistency Tigers fans enjoyed during his years on campus: Three straight NCAA Tournament appearances under Rick Barnes from 1996-98.
Buckner's place as one of Clemson's greatest players is secure, thanks to his consistent impact during four seasons as a starter.
He won the ACC Rookie of the Year award in 1995, leading an overachieving Clemson team to the NIT in Barnes' first year as head coach.
His last-second dunk in 1996 gave Clemson a precious and unprecedented ACC Tournament victory over UNC to seal an NCAA Tournament bid.
He led Clemson to the Sweet Sixteen of the 1997 NCAA Tournament, where a double-overtime loss to Minnesota in San Antonio cost the Tigers an Elite Eight shot at UCLA.
He was Clemson's leading scorer in 1998 for a record fourth straight season, and helped the Tigers earn a third consecutive NCAA Tournament bid. Then Buckner ran out of eligibility and Barnes left for Texas.
Clemson hasn't been back to The Big Dance since.
"Yeah, I'm well aware of that," Buckner said. "These guys (Mavericks teammates) remind me all the time."
The Tigers with Buckner in the lineup won four times against South Carolina and broke school records for home attendance.
"Every team needs a (really tough guy) and Buckner is our (really tough guy)," is the printable version of Barnes' frequent praise of Buckner's measurable and intangible talent.
Charity work
At 30 and in his eighth NBA season,
Buckner has his best chance to win an NBA title. Flamboyant owner Mark Cuban and the Mavericks gave Buckner his NBA start and re-signed Buckner after he spent the last four seasons with the Philadelphia 76ers and Denver Nuggets.
"We have a great opportunity to win a championship, and that's the reason I came back," said Buckner, who is averaging 4.6 points per game as a reserve. "For Mark Cuban and (General Manager) Donn Nelson to invite me back, it's been a blessing."
At all of his NBA stops, Buckner has been heavily involved in charity work. He founded GBUCK - Giving Back an Unconditional Commitment to Kids (www.gregbucknerfoundation.net) - in his hometown of Hopkinsville, Ky.
"It's important to me because I've been around a lot of unfortunate kids who didn't get what I felt was a proper education," Buckner said. "I just want to help those little ones and improve their educational background. It's a shame when you're 15 or 16 and you can't read or write. I just feel like I should give back and try to give those kids and opportunity."
Such father-figure leadership is what might make Buckner a fine college basketball coach, in the mold of his former Clemson mentor.
"It's obvious that Coach Barnes is a special guy," Buckner said. "Look at what he's done with the Texas program, too. He could recruit and he could relate to his players, yet was very stern and very disciplined. That's why we had some good years while I was there."
Buckner was also why those years were so successful, and why one of Buckner's Clemson jerseys is autographed, framed and on display in Barnes' Texas office.
Hey, Clemson management, are you listening?
Duke Lacrosse
I tend to try to leave my political ignorance out of this blog. I will continue to do so. If you're interested in my beliefs in politics, hit up www.bdonin.blogspot.com, however, even though this really isn't a political case, I was sent a link to another blog about the Duke Lacrosse case. I, for one have been following this case pretty closely considering Reade Seligmann is a Delbarton School alum and quite honestly, I still don't like Delbarton. But as the case has been going on I've been drawn in to what a mockery is going on with it.
Check out this link: http://durhamwonderland.blogspot.com/
I'm off to Boston this weekend to be a witness to my nephew Owen get baptized. There's an open bar after the service. Every stereotype about Irish Catholics in Boston is so true. I'm so happy to be Irish Catholic heading to Boston. Probably not a "blog-worthy" weekend, but you never know. Stranger things have happened! Have a safe and great weekend.
Check out this link: http://durhamwonderland.blogspot.com/
I'm off to Boston this weekend to be a witness to my nephew Owen get baptized. There's an open bar after the service. Every stereotype about Irish Catholics in Boston is so true. I'm so happy to be Irish Catholic heading to Boston. Probably not a "blog-worthy" weekend, but you never know. Stranger things have happened! Have a safe and great weekend.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
PHEW!!!
CLEMSON -- On Tuesday, there were media reports in the state of Florida that Clemson freshman running back C.J. Spiller was considering transferring to another school. After meeting with Head Coach Tommy Bowden, C.J. Spiller released the following statement:
"I discussed the situation with my mother and I decided it is best for me to stay at Clemson."
In 13 games last season, Spiller averaged 7.3 yards per carry and scored 12 touchdowns. He finished second in the ACC Rookie of the year voting.
"I discussed the situation with my mother and I decided it is best for me to stay at Clemson."
In 13 games last season, Spiller averaged 7.3 yards per carry and scored 12 touchdowns. He finished second in the ACC Rookie of the year voting.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
An Email I Just Received
Creegs - is that your blue and orange (Florida Gator) flip flop in the middle of Davis Island Boulevard? Let me know and I will go retrieve it (yes I will really make {the boyfriend} do it).
There's been a sighting! But only one!
There's been a sighting! But only one!
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
This Is Getting A Little Rediculous
So I had the post about losing my sandals in the weird evening that left me locked out of my place. Well, I was always told that things happen in threes, so I figured with losing sandals twice and getting locked out once added up to three. I was wrong. I got locked out yet again last Friday. That's right, that's the second straight friday that I've been sans keys outside of my place. Now some would think that I need to stop drinking, as I stated before, but in the words of Lee Corso, "NOT SO FAST MY FRIEND!" I wasn't even drinking on Friday. I had a beer with dinner. ONLY ONE! I had pizza, what do you expect. I wanted a beer, it was Friday, so I had one, get off my nuts! Sorry for that rant. So yes, it happened again. The story goes that I was on the phone with a couple of good friends that I hadn't talked to in awhile, and while I was on the phone with the second friend, I walked outside to get my ipod out of my car (don't ask) because I want it charged before I travel next week and I thought about it at that particular time, which I'll admit, is weird, but bare with me. So I walked out there the first time, had my keys, no big deal, got the ipod. Then when I returned inside, I put my keys AND WALLET down because the wallet was hurting my ass when I was sitting. Once again, I know it's weird. Anyway, I went over to my computer and realized that the charging cable was also in the car, so I was frustrated and went back outside to get that cord. This time completely forgetting to take my keys and/or wallet. Now some would ask why would you need your wallet to walk outside? I will answer that. Because if you get locked out as I shortly realized I did, you could at least walk down to the bars and drink away your stupidity, but as Ron White says, "you can't fix stupid!" The worst part was as I was at the car, I hit the lock button from inside my car as I was remembering that I didn't have my keys and shut the door. It was one of those moments that went slow motion. So I did the same walk that I did a week earlier only this time it was about 5 hours earlier in the night, but it was cold. Now I know people are going to say, "You live in Florida, it's not cold there." It was cold that night. I put the heat on in the house. And that's news people because I currently have the windows open in the place and it's December 13. I had on pants, a long sleeved t-shirt and NO HAT!!! I had put my hat down as well when I walked into the place.
So I get back to the bar that my neighbors own and say, "I did it again." To which I got as a response, "I figured you would, so here's my key." Awful performance. Just goes to show you that beer doesn't mess you up entirely. Things that you think were stupid with the influence of alcohol can also happen sober.
I watched the best football game of any level that I've ever seen on Friday night. It was a state championship game between Lakeland High School (ranked #1 in the nation) vs. St. Thomas Aquinas (where A-Rod, Michael Irvin went to high school, and where Hall of Fame WR Cris Carter is the receivers coach). Anyway, Lakeland was up 35-14 with 1:55 on the clock in the fourth quarter and kicking off after scoring their fifth touchdown of the day. Aquinas took the kickoff and got into Lakeland territory. Two plays later they scored to cut the score to 35-21. Onside kick, they receive it. Two plays later 35-28. I think you know where I'm going with this. Onside kick #2, they recover it again. Three plays later 35-35 with :03 left in the game. The clock runs out, the crowd is going nuts and it's time for OT. Now in high school in Florida each team gets the ball on the 10 yard line and has 4 plays to score. Both teams score TD's in the first OT 42-42. Lakeland starts with the ball in the second OT and settles for a field goal 45-42. Aquinas drives three plays to the 1 yard line. I would even argue that it was closer than that. Fourth and goal at the one inch line and instead of tying the game and going into a second OT, the Aquinas coach decides to go for the championship (which I would have done too, given the opportunity). Lakeland stands firm and stops Aquinas with an impressive goal-line stand and Lakeland wins 45-42. It was a lot more exciting watching it live on tv.
Have a great holiday season. I hope have "blog-worthy" material after this weekend, but just in case...
So I get back to the bar that my neighbors own and say, "I did it again." To which I got as a response, "I figured you would, so here's my key." Awful performance. Just goes to show you that beer doesn't mess you up entirely. Things that you think were stupid with the influence of alcohol can also happen sober.
I watched the best football game of any level that I've ever seen on Friday night. It was a state championship game between Lakeland High School (ranked #1 in the nation) vs. St. Thomas Aquinas (where A-Rod, Michael Irvin went to high school, and where Hall of Fame WR Cris Carter is the receivers coach). Anyway, Lakeland was up 35-14 with 1:55 on the clock in the fourth quarter and kicking off after scoring their fifth touchdown of the day. Aquinas took the kickoff and got into Lakeland territory. Two plays later they scored to cut the score to 35-21. Onside kick, they receive it. Two plays later 35-28. I think you know where I'm going with this. Onside kick #2, they recover it again. Three plays later 35-35 with :03 left in the game. The clock runs out, the crowd is going nuts and it's time for OT. Now in high school in Florida each team gets the ball on the 10 yard line and has 4 plays to score. Both teams score TD's in the first OT 42-42. Lakeland starts with the ball in the second OT and settles for a field goal 45-42. Aquinas drives three plays to the 1 yard line. I would even argue that it was closer than that. Fourth and goal at the one inch line and instead of tying the game and going into a second OT, the Aquinas coach decides to go for the championship (which I would have done too, given the opportunity). Lakeland stands firm and stops Aquinas with an impressive goal-line stand and Lakeland wins 45-42. It was a lot more exciting watching it live on tv.
Have a great holiday season. I hope have "blog-worthy" material after this weekend, but just in case...
Monday, December 04, 2006
Missing: Sandals; Reward Offered
There is a story of one drunken evening back in Clemson where I woke up in the morning and had lost my sandals. People would ask, "how could you lose your shoes without knowing?" That's a viable question, and one that I would not even begin to answer. Well, one would think that this would be tough to do once, well I'm here to tell you that I have officially done it twice. Friday was the second time and I'm here to tell you how it happened and to also let you know that they are still missing.
It was a typical Friday night here in Tampa. Got done with my day of work, did what I had to do and then cracked open a beer and began to watch the NCAA Women's Soccer Final Four. Citizen wanted to go out on Friday, so I waited until he got home, waited for his nap to end and then get ready to hit the town. Needless to say, before we went to get some beers out and about, I'd had about 8-10 beers depending on who's counting. Pitchers of beer were then had at our local watering hole, and then the liquor started. All told, it was a good night. As with a lot of my Friday nights here on the Island, this is where it gets hazy. About 2am, Citizen decided that he was done and had to go home. For some reason I did not follow suit, as I probably should have. But an hour later I start the 1/2 mile trek to the homefront. I get there, and realize that I don't have my keys, apparently thinking that I didn't need them. I was wrong in that assumption because our apartment has two doors, the front door to the building which is unlocked, but our door is locked on the frontside of the building and the back entrance to the building which is locked, and the back entrance to our apartment is unlocked. Make sense? They're complete opposites of each other. Anyway, because the front door was locked I couldn't get in, and I tried to break into the front door but to no avail. Then I walk to the back to see that Citizen's car is there and so I call him. No answer. 16 tries later I realize that the dude is fast asleep and nothing I can do will wake him. It's now 3:45 or so. A door to my car is open though and I decide that if I can't get in, I might as well sleep in the car. Then I remember that our neighbors are local bar owners, so I get out of the car and realize that I have no shoes on. I had sandals on all night, but not at this moment. I then check back in the car and they are nowhere to be found, look all around the car and outside and I can't find them at all. I have sensitive feet, so I can't walk 1/2 mile with no shoes on. Luckily, I had a pair of sneakers in the car and a fresh pair of socks. So I put them on and trek back 1/2 mile to the bar that my neighbors own, borrow a key from the wife that opens the back door and trek back another 1/2 mile. By this point it's about 4:30am. Get into the apartment and sleep until 11am Saturday, but still without the sandals.
I wish there were a good ending to this story. There is not. I still don't have my sandals. I even retraced my steps on Saturday to see if I flung them off at somepoint. You'd think that one person can't lose sandals once, but I've lost them twice. Maybe it's time to stop drinking...NAH!
It was a typical Friday night here in Tampa. Got done with my day of work, did what I had to do and then cracked open a beer and began to watch the NCAA Women's Soccer Final Four. Citizen wanted to go out on Friday, so I waited until he got home, waited for his nap to end and then get ready to hit the town. Needless to say, before we went to get some beers out and about, I'd had about 8-10 beers depending on who's counting. Pitchers of beer were then had at our local watering hole, and then the liquor started. All told, it was a good night. As with a lot of my Friday nights here on the Island, this is where it gets hazy. About 2am, Citizen decided that he was done and had to go home. For some reason I did not follow suit, as I probably should have. But an hour later I start the 1/2 mile trek to the homefront. I get there, and realize that I don't have my keys, apparently thinking that I didn't need them. I was wrong in that assumption because our apartment has two doors, the front door to the building which is unlocked, but our door is locked on the frontside of the building and the back entrance to the building which is locked, and the back entrance to our apartment is unlocked. Make sense? They're complete opposites of each other. Anyway, because the front door was locked I couldn't get in, and I tried to break into the front door but to no avail. Then I walk to the back to see that Citizen's car is there and so I call him. No answer. 16 tries later I realize that the dude is fast asleep and nothing I can do will wake him. It's now 3:45 or so. A door to my car is open though and I decide that if I can't get in, I might as well sleep in the car. Then I remember that our neighbors are local bar owners, so I get out of the car and realize that I have no shoes on. I had sandals on all night, but not at this moment. I then check back in the car and they are nowhere to be found, look all around the car and outside and I can't find them at all. I have sensitive feet, so I can't walk 1/2 mile with no shoes on. Luckily, I had a pair of sneakers in the car and a fresh pair of socks. So I put them on and trek back 1/2 mile to the bar that my neighbors own, borrow a key from the wife that opens the back door and trek back another 1/2 mile. By this point it's about 4:30am. Get into the apartment and sleep until 11am Saturday, but still without the sandals.
I wish there were a good ending to this story. There is not. I still don't have my sandals. I even retraced my steps on Saturday to see if I flung them off at somepoint. You'd think that one person can't lose sandals once, but I've lost them twice. Maybe it's time to stop drinking...NAH!
Monday, November 27, 2006
This is Why I Don't Like South Carolina Gamecocks Fans!
LEXINGTON, S.C. (AP) - A man fatally shot his friend with a high-powered rifle in a dispute over a $20 bet on the South Carolina-Clemson football game, authorities said Sunday.
James Walter Quick, 42, was charged with murder in the shooting of Richard Allen Johnson, 43. Johnson died from a single shot to the chest, according to a preliminary autopsy Sunday.
The two had bet $20 on the annual game, with Quick taking South Carolina, which won 31-28, and Johnson taking Clemson, Lexington County Sheriff James Metts said. They drank beer all afternoon and watched the game Saturday at Johnson's home, and began arguing about the bet after the game.
Metts said Quick went to his car, got the rifle he normally uses for hunting and fired one shot, hitting Johnson in the chest. Deputies arrested Quick.
Quick was being held Sunday in the Lexington County jail, awaiting a bail hearing. The sheriff's department said he did not yet have a lawyer.
James Walter Quick, 42, was charged with murder in the shooting of Richard Allen Johnson, 43. Johnson died from a single shot to the chest, according to a preliminary autopsy Sunday.
The two had bet $20 on the annual game, with Quick taking South Carolina, which won 31-28, and Johnson taking Clemson, Lexington County Sheriff James Metts said. They drank beer all afternoon and watched the game Saturday at Johnson's home, and began arguing about the bet after the game.
Metts said Quick went to his car, got the rifle he normally uses for hunting and fired one shot, hitting Johnson in the chest. Deputies arrested Quick.
Quick was being held Sunday in the Lexington County jail, awaiting a bail hearing. The sheriff's department said he did not yet have a lawyer.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Happy Thanksgiving
Don't Fart in Bed
This is a story about Smoke and Earp who have been happily together for years. The only friction in their relationship was Smoke's habit of farting loudly every morning when he awoke. The noise would wake Earp and the smell would make her eyes water and make her gasp for air. Every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping them off because it was making her sick. Smoke told her he couldn't stop it and that it was perfectly natural. Earp told him to see a doctor; she was concerned that one day he would blow his guts out. The time went by and Smoke continued to blast them out!Then last Thanksgiving she was in the kitchen making turkey for dinner and Smoke was in the bedroom sound asleep, Earp looked at the bowl where she had put the turkey innards and neck, gizzard, liver and all the spare parts and a malicious thought came to her. Warm the innards up to body temperature!..and then she took the bowl and went to the bedroom where Smoke was sound asleep and, gently pulling back the bed covers, she pulled back the elastic waistband of his underpants and emptied the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts. Some time later she heard Smoke waken with his usual trumpeting which was followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic footsteps as he ran into the bathroom. Earp could hardly control herself as she rolled on the floor laughing, tears in her eyes! After some time of torture she reckoned she had got him back pretty good. About twenty minutes later, Smoke came downstairs in his bloodstained underpants with a look of horror on his face. She bit her lip as she asked him what was the matter. He said, "Honey, you were right." "All this time you have warned me and I didn't listen to you.""What do you mean?" asked Earp. "Well, you always told me that one day I would end up farting my guts out, and today it finally happened. But by the grace of God, some Vaseline, and two fingers, I think I got most of them back."
Thanks for sharing that story with me Earp! Happy Thanksgiving!
This is a story about Smoke and Earp who have been happily together for years. The only friction in their relationship was Smoke's habit of farting loudly every morning when he awoke. The noise would wake Earp and the smell would make her eyes water and make her gasp for air. Every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping them off because it was making her sick. Smoke told her he couldn't stop it and that it was perfectly natural. Earp told him to see a doctor; she was concerned that one day he would blow his guts out. The time went by and Smoke continued to blast them out!Then last Thanksgiving she was in the kitchen making turkey for dinner and Smoke was in the bedroom sound asleep, Earp looked at the bowl where she had put the turkey innards and neck, gizzard, liver and all the spare parts and a malicious thought came to her. Warm the innards up to body temperature!..and then she took the bowl and went to the bedroom where Smoke was sound asleep and, gently pulling back the bed covers, she pulled back the elastic waistband of his underpants and emptied the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts. Some time later she heard Smoke waken with his usual trumpeting which was followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic footsteps as he ran into the bathroom. Earp could hardly control herself as she rolled on the floor laughing, tears in her eyes! After some time of torture she reckoned she had got him back pretty good. About twenty minutes later, Smoke came downstairs in his bloodstained underpants with a look of horror on his face. She bit her lip as she asked him what was the matter. He said, "Honey, you were right." "All this time you have warned me and I didn't listen to you.""What do you mean?" asked Earp. "Well, you always told me that one day I would end up farting my guts out, and today it finally happened. But by the grace of God, some Vaseline, and two fingers, I think I got most of them back."
Thanks for sharing that story with me Earp! Happy Thanksgiving!
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