Tuesday, May 31, 2005
wanna be the shower when you sweat;
I gotta to be the tattoo on your skin;
ya lemme be your bed baby - when you climb in
Great Moments in Frisbee Throwin’ History
Me and my bro were whipping the Frisbee around when we were really little. Anyway I whip (or however you call the motion of letting a Frisbee go) this little floater and just before it hit the casually outstretched hand of my bro, the wind kicks up and the Frisbee lifts itself onto his forehead.
"BONK" went the Frisbee followed by a stunned look by my bro.
I laughed for a good 17 days after that.
Monday I ended up tossing the Frisbee around with my family and I think it’s rekindled a new love for the Frisbee.
I want to start playing Frisbee golf and Frisbee football--by the way, I kicked ass in football this weekend!--and I also want to hang out with those hippies at the UofM and figure out what ‘ultimate Frisbee’ is all about. I want to go to a driving range and instead of lugging an assload of golf clubs I’d just have a couple Frisbees and ’whip away’ and watch as the Frisbee ever so gracefully directs itself amongst a shower of golf balls.
I’ve always thought that playing catch with the Frisbee when it’s mostly calm with haphazard breezes can be extraordinarily fun considering the ‘hitting in the face’ factor.
In fact most sports are better when the ‘hitting in the face’ factor is in play. Baseball, for instance, I remember this one left fielder when I was like 12 or something who went for this frozen rope lace right at him in left. He stuck out his glove in an awkward position and SMACK, right in the face.
We lost that game and if a teammate is unable to make the play, the ball may as well hit him in the face is what I say.
Back to Frisbee, it’s so satisfying watching that crazy-ass Frisbee just floating it’s way to the other person. It’s also cool when the Frisbee is throwing up into the air and it ends up coming back to you!
I wonder how far I could whip a Frisbee.
Friday, May 27, 2005
que te he dado en la boca
se me fue el corazón;
y dicen que es pecado
querer como te quiero,
Quizás tengan razón.
Memorial day, it’s one of my favorite holidays. Whoever thought about taking a day off to remember all the deceased is a god damn genius.
Actually the person who invented Labor day is a genius, Memorial Day guy pretty much had all the cards laid right in front of him.
What a kiss-ass!
Great moments in Memorial Day history….
Ironically, I can’t remember any single Memorial day in the 25 that I have experienced. I guess last years was memorable, but only because I had a fucking headache… and because I was watching the Timberwolves lose to the Lakers in some bar at Rapid City.
Other than that, I couldn’t tell you.
You’d think that baseball would be a decent tradition except that the damn Twins aren’t playing on Monday because, I don’t know, they want to celebrate Memorial Day?
Uh… good weekends everyone.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
I see it in your eyes
But if you want to live
To see the morning
Give it up to your brother
Or you'll get a surprise
This story was found here.
Owners unanimously approve sale to mall tycoon
WASHINGTON -- NFL owners on Wednesday unanimously approved the $600 million sale of the Minnesota Vikings to a group led by New Jersey shopping mall magnate Zygmunt Wilf. [Berg: See ya Red. Go back to Texas you bitch!]
Wilf was given to go-ahead to purchase the team from Red McCombs, with the closing date expected to take place in June.
Wilf immediately pledged to work to build a new stadium to replace the Metrodome, but he vowed that the team will stay in Minnesota. [Berg: Because if he would dare to say otherwise… the torches would be lit and we’d be planning our attack]
"To me, this is not a matter of economics. This is a matter of passion. [Berg: uh, I'm gonna call 'bullshit' on this statement.] I've always been a strong NFC fan," said Wilf, a lifelong supporter of the New York Giants. "We will be in the Minneapolis area forever. Look, I'm not changing that at all. We will do our best to make sure that we get the best venue and right location."
Wilf recently assumed the role of general partner of the ownership group after concerns were raised over whether Arizona businessman Reggie Fowler had the finances to be the lead owner. Fowler, who would have been the NFL's first black majority owner, remains an active part of the group, which also includes Wilf's brother Mark, cousin Leonard and East Coast real estate businessmen Alan Landis and David Mandelbaum.
McCombs has owned the team since 1998.
Wilf, 55, is the son of Holocaust survivors whose family business is among the largest owners of shopping centers in North America [Berg: Mall of America II perhaps?]. He said he plans to use his real estate business acumen to move forward on a plan for a new stadium, preferably an outdoor venue that will re-establish a home field weather advantage. [Berg: oh, oh, whooooaaaa, ugh, ugh, omygod, *pant*, UGHHH YES, OH YES.. SIFSAOGI;NMEINTKEWICZGASD;GN and done.]
"I'm a strong believer in an open venue. From the standpoint of the franchise, I think that it is a good advantage to have some of the other teams come up to our nice, warm Minnesota winters," he said facetiously, "so they can enjoy playing football up where it hurts -- a la Green Bay." [Berg:*tear* That’s so… beautiful. An owner who wants outdoor football in Minnesota. God bless this Ziggy character. God bless the hell outta him!]
Wilf said he is already in negotiations with various land owners for possible stadium sites, and he said that public financing will be "part of the formula to be able to get this done." [Berg: You don’t say.] The Vikings have been trying to get the state legislature to support a new stadium for several years without success.[Berg: PURPLE PRIDE]
Wilf said he will eventually establish a residence in Minnesota, but he does not plan to move there permanently. He said he was still "trying to catch up to speed" on the Vikings operations [Berg: Ziggy, the Vikings are the hindenburg of the NFL. Try not to touch the office supplies] and was vague when asked whether he would be a high-profile or hands-on owner.
"I don't know about high-profile, but I hope to be an effective leader," he said.
It's too good to be true. Owners down put this much responsibilty to construct a stadium. I'll believe it when I see it.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Hunter - there's no looking back
Die hard - he's lost in the crowd
Hunter - die hard and proud
Seems that someone had a case of the Mondays yesterday. Nothing more than a bad day and yearning over Kristin Davis.
Today I’m going with quick bits…
-The ceremonial first pitch in baseball is a special time for everyday people who do everyday things to play a part in the game. Although, I do have a couple problems with this.
For one the P.A. announcer is always lying after they throw the ball. “STRIIIIIKEEEE!!!” is what is always shouted fashionably by the PA announcer. It’s just that exactly how many ceremonial first pitches are strikes? Like NONE. They’re always thrown by extremely old or young people and they could roll the ball over the plate and still hear that patented “STRIIIIIIKKKKKEEE!!!!” call.
What a bunch of crap that is! Why can’t they be honest by saying “BAAAAAALLLLL low” and be done with it? After all lets face it, a pitch is a pitch whether it’s a strike or not.
Two, the pitch should count in the regular game stats. If it is the ceremonial first pitch it should be filed away as such.
Lets not fool ourselves people!
-Just picked up Chappelle’s second season and I must say, it’s comedy gold. When I first saw that Rick James episode, I felt that it was probably one of the best shows I have seen on cable. That is until I saw the Wayne Brady episode and THAT is unbelievable! I shatted myself twice! How the hell does that happen?
-Torii Hunter is killing me! HE’S FUCKING KILLING ME!!! He’s a damn good outfielder but he s u c k s so goddamn much at the plate! Isn’t there a hitting coach anywhere that can teach the guy to be a little patient? Can’t Mickey Tettleton come along and show Hunter how to just lean the bat on the shoulder for a couple pitches?
-Actually nearly all of the Twins hitters are killing me! It seems that they swing at any 2-2 pitch no matter how high or low it is. There’s nothing more disappointing than watching a hitter-with two runners on and two out-to swing at a pitch at their neck.
Put me in there! I could get a hold of one of those pitches I reckon.
-Wouldn’t it rock to belt a 95mph fastball into the seats? The pitch comes when you’ve already started swinging and you feel the crack of the bat. It feels so damn easy as if the ball wanted to jet off into midair and finally into the stands.
It’s gotta be one of the best feelings ever!
-I heard Jerry Bell (Twins president) talking about the upcoming stadium and how everything was going to paid. It turns out that the city wouldn’t pay for a retractable roof and Carl Pohlad was so irritated about that that he threatened to scrap the whole plan.
I got a solution for you Carl, WRITE A FUCKING CHECK!!!! You’re lucky you have Hennepin county paying for 75% of the stadium as it is. You’re a multi BILLIONAIRE, richer than George Steinbrenner, and your whining over the 100million it would take to furnish a roof that would inevitably give you more money.
It’s like fucking P-Diddy’s quest to raise money for some charity by running the NYC marathon. Nothing wrong with that except that he would fly halfway across the country to buy running shoes (I’m sure NYC has a place to purchase running shoes) and pay for personal trainers (not really needed). Not to mention that whatever money he tried to raise, HE COULD’VE JUST WROTE A CHECK! I think he raised like 2 million
Doesn’t he make like 100 million dollars a day or something.
-I saw Kieth Richards on high definition the other night.
*shudders* Yes, Hi Def allows viewers to see ALL blemishes. Not only that but he was singing a duet with Norah Jones (who’s about a 7). On one side you have a beautiful woman and the other is this Marlboro/Jack Daniels mutant with bloodshot eyes.
When Kieth Richards smiles the whole world doesn’t smile back.
-New Audioslave album, awesome!
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
That never cared much for you anyway
The different-colored doorways
You thought would let you in one day
Goodbye to the old bus stop, frozen and waiting
The weekend edition has this town way overrated
It seems that I’m never happy. I know what the problem is, but I keep thinking that moving the hell outta here would cure all aches and pains. I always seem to wonder about what it would be like to live on the west coast or to live anywhere else.
I don’t hate where I live or where I grew up. It just feels like I’ve done what I can do and St. Paul seems very saturated at this moment. I would be lying if I said that I would like to find a job in Minnesota due to staying home. I actually wouldn’t mind leaving here for anything but the countryside (although even that seems to spark my interest slightly). I need to meet new people and experience different things. I need to refresh my life a bit.
I know what the problem is.
I can always depend on the weather to be unpredictable and the last couple years the only time I can be assured of happiness is spring and fall. Just the basic predictability of spring and fall drops a couple notches on the whole happiness scale.
I also think I’m drifting away from everyone: friends and family. It seems that I just can’t get along with my immediate family for longer than one hour and that the littlest communication shift is too much to bear. I think of my relatives and I get a headache in seconds. I think about old friends and I figure they’re dead because I don’t want to talk to them due to the contrived ‘catch-up’ conversation.
I know what the problem is.
I’ve never had even an acquaintance relationship with my brother due to the unique way I vented from years of misunderstanding and frustration of high school and earlier. Although the topic of suicide (and the fighting back from it) is the common ground that he doesn’t know about.
My Mom seems to be a card carrying member of the loner club. She never leaves the house and I can’t remember the last time she was truly happy. God, I wish she had a friend she could talk to. She’s probably hugged me enough times that I could count each one using both hands
My Dad uses work as a binky so he doesn’t find himself like Mom. He’s never told me about his dad because it’s a soft spot he doesn’t want to touch.
And my friends…
Here’s the first friend I’ve ever had who’s getting married next week and when asked if I want to attend his reception and wedding, I replied with a stern “NO” because I can’t stand weddings and their receptions.
I’ll see my friends maybe twice a month due to my stupid hours.
All that and I got the fuckin runs too!
The problem is that I need a girlfriend. I need someone I love because of them and everything about them. I need someone that brings me to my full potential. Someone that will be the mushroom to turn me into Super Berg. Someone that will take all this gunked up potential and filter and control it accordingly.
I need someone that brightens up the darkest days and I can think about at work.
Someone to end this blog.
Monday, May 23, 2005
And wouldn't you love to love her
She rules her life like a bird in flight
And who will be her lover...
I just noticed this yesterday after 25+years of living in the area.
I don’t know about all you alls, but I think I’m a genius!
Also, if you noticed I slightly changed the title of this badboy and now that fuck-up that keep reminding me everyday is now smudged up a bit.
It's like throwing a mad party a couple days ago when someone took a dump on your living room carpet. Instead of replacing the carpet you simply put a doiley over the shitstain.
This is also the jersey I’m getting.
Speaking of baseball, my Dad invited me to the Twins game yesterday along with a couple of his long time buddies.
Baseball is one of the only games that bridges the generation gap from father to son and even a grandpa. It’s the one simple game that encourages male family bonding. Any baseball park during any baseball game at anytime would make Norman Rockwell shoot his load with artistic potentials.
Remember when I said how my Dad was on a special pedestal a couple weeks ago? Watching the game with him was…. Well, here’s some of the dialogue. Keep in mind he talks really loud because he’s a little hard of hearing.
Dad’s Friend I: There’s this player for Cleveland whose name is Coco Crisp. How’s that for a funny name!
Berg: Yeah, there’s this guy in the Twins AAA team whose name is Boof Bonser!
*Dad’s friend I &II both kinda chucking a bit*
Berg: No, BOOF!
Dad: Oh Bonser? What’s so funny about that?
Berg: No not Bons-ughh never mind.
Dad: Santana’s going great it’s too bad wont pitch the whole game
*Santana had a no-hitter at that time and also striking out 5 of 6 batters*
Berg surprised: Santana’s got a career game going. If he keeps doing this he’ll definitely make it nine!
*runners on 1B and 2B with ONE OUT when someone grounds out to the pitcher advancing the runners.*
Dad: It’s a good thing he did that because now there can’t be a double play.
Also later that inning
Dad: GITRDUN! *looks around* GITRDUN, GITRDUN, GITRDUN!
There were four 13 year old annoying girls sitting behind us and he was more annoying that all of them. COMBINED.
I wanted to slap him.
But the best quote actually came from the guy who sat behind us. This guy was wearing a yellow polo shirt with these khaki shorts. He looked like he lived in yuppieville. His kids wanted to stay and watch the game and he and his wife seemed really uninterested in everything.
Top of the 8th, Milwaukee just took the lead at 3-1
The Dad: 3-1, it’s over. Lets go.
Me and the guy sitting next to me had a good chuckle over that one.
I hope to Christ that they put me on days after this ‘project’ is over.
This ‘project’ is taking all my time by itself let alone all the other pesky things I gotta do. I’ve had to say an hour in a half later for the past three days at work and there’s no time for anything.
After working for 3+ years at this place WITHOUT A RAISE (I’ve been asking too) this project should give my some good leverage at the very least. Then maybe the’ll put me on days AND give me a raise AND…I don’t know.
This deal starts tomorrow and I gotta be a hard-ass now
2. “God, I can’t believe the Twins aren’t on TV!”
I’ve heard this so many times in the last couple weeks. This coming one year from the Twins successful “Victory Sports Channel” fiasco. How long was it last season where we didn’t have Twins baseball on TV? It seemed like forever!
Plus, like 90% of the games are on TV anyway, so what the hell are you bitching about?
TURN ON A RADIO AND LISTEN!
It’s been about two years now since I haven’t had White Cheddar Cheese Nips and I’m still recovering from the addiction. As far as I’m concerned Kraft just one-up’d the “new” coke by pulling White Cheddar Cheese nips from the shelves.
What the hell is wrong with them?
And don’t, DON’T even mention White Cheddar Chez-it’s. I’ll kick you good!
4. People who stop or slow down to look at wreaks on the freeway.
You sit in 25 minutes of a traffic jam only to find out that it’s nothing more than people slowing down to see some crash. You’d think that with everyone driving everyday since they’ve been 16 that they’d know how to drive. You’d think that out of a hundred drivers, 80% would know how important it is to ignore and keep driving!
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Black as night
Agony's torn at my heart too long
Slip and I fall and I die
*On knees, praying*
Dear God or Jesus or Zeus or whoever,
Oh God, I know I have abandoned you as of late and I like to make a bunch of jokes about you and the people that follow you. I was also referred to you from a whiney Mother Nature who told me that she reports to YOU and YOU haven’t budged on that dental plan that’s she’s been using as the main contention of her new contract.
I heard from a non-reliable source (weather.com) that tomorrow is actually supposed to be a nice day. Tomorrow is supposed have a high of 73 and it’s to be mostly sunny after the noon hour.
I don’t want to believe it. Like a woman who’s had every man she’s ever loved cheat on her, I can’t count on this weather report.
Last Monday was supposed to be sunny with a high of 64, which is nothing to complain about. I set the alarm clock at 9am to get up and take my morning run. Instead I woke up to thunderstorms and a disappointment that only compares to the *new* look by Lindsey Lohan (see SNL on Saturday to see what I mean). I really wanted/needed to run that day. Of course I probably wouldn’t have due to a slightly aching calf from football the day before, but I’ll save that excuse for a rainy day--excuse me, a sunny day since they seem to be few and far between.
I know I have spent my whole life spiting the church stemming from my baptism when I was hit in the head by the priest. Then there was that time where my brother and I snuck our way up into the mezzanine and started spying on the priest from above. Then there was that time where I sneezed into the other side of my elbow and created a huge farting noise that echoed throughout the church.
I didn’t know any better then and I kinda/sorta know better now.
Please let Friday be the sunny day we’ve been craving for weeks! It would be an excellent end to one of the busiest weeks ever.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
To dream the impossible dream,
to fight the unbeatable foe,
to bear with unbearable sorrow,
to run where the brave dare not go
I'm fucking swamped! No time to do anything.
I even have to come to work early on a daily basis so i can get everything
Instead I have an email that I sent to my friends last summer as I was
in the Black Hills.
Notes of this email,
-My thumbnail got infected
-and things are goin fine…
On to the Loverboy review
The weekend of June 19&20th was the weekend of weekends. There were at least
four places that would make my list for ‘most memorable moments of 2004’
-Lewbowskifest in Kentucky
-Another memorable weekend in the City of Sin, Milwaukee to see some baseball.
-A baseball trip that would wind up in Wrigley field for what turned out to be a
-Grandma’s Marathon in Duluth. I was all signed up and everything, but I
haven’t really been running.
Instead of those choices, I saw Loverboy perform in Deadwood, SoDak. If my own
self from a month ago knew this would happen, I would gladly kick my own ass!
Actually I was aiming to miss them because Annoying Radio Announcer
said they were about to get on the stage at 5pm. Wild Bill days was going on in
Deadwood and so there was lots of Old Millwaukee, Coors, and PBR along with a
free Loverboy concert.
I decided to wait a couple hours until like 8pm to show up since I don’t like
loverboy. At 7:40pm I walk up to a stage with a couple thousand tired
baby boomers drunk and waiting. That’s when I heard the announcement,
“Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready for some kickin’ rock music!?”
Oh no, this better be some local rock band with an old following.
“Loverboy will be ready in ten minutes!”
Fucking dammit! I actually came just in time for loverboy. I thought since bad
movies and music fascinates me, might as well watch the damn show.
I mean, I’ve seen the movie Glitter, I’ve seen Creed live, and whenever that
damn loverboy song ‘Turn Me Loose’ is on the radio, I have to listen to it!
It’s interesting to me how a song or movie can change my mood and piss me off in
a matter of seconds. I get so mad when I hear that stupid whiney song by
loverboy, I think it’s been the source of at least two speeding tickets!
Loverboy has always been a guilty pleasure for so many people. To me, it’s been an
innocent hatred towards the band. Right on down to the red headband and red leather
So shit, I have to stay and see these guys based on opportunity cost. More
importantly, I have to see my all time most hated song live, and in the flesh!
Might as well review this fucker I thought. It sure beats trying to enjoy it!
Everywhere I saw little kids getting excited. Excited! Do you kids know what
you are about to see? I thought about buying a couple thousand beers for
myself, but when you take a depressant (alcohol) and mix it with an enormous
depressant (Loverboy) I would probably end up trying to lure a family of brown
recluses to come and have lunch on my other thumb.
So now comes loverboy on stage; a bunch of old dudes wearing shades. The lead
Fat Fuck, is really fucking fat now compared to the red headband pencilneck of
the early 80’s.
“ARE YOU READY TO PARTY?” says Fat Fuck.
“no” I mutter pissed off.
1. Change your mind
2. Lucky Words
3. Leave Her Alone
4. Take me to the top
5. Do what you like
6. This could be the night
7. It’s hot tonight
8. When it’s over
9. Hot girls
10. Turn me loose
11. Working for the Weekend
12. ??????? Sorry, I left
Now when you have such inspirational and poetic songs as ‘It’s Hot Tonight’ and
‘Hot girls’, I start thinking that maybe I should just chuck my presidential
campaign and start making music.
The fourth song, ‘Take Me to the Top’ had a Doors medley at the end.
A band like loverboy has no business even mentioning The Doors or even talking
about music before the era of disco.
Loverboy is the hangover that disco gave the US of the late 70’s.
Now The Doors and Pink Floyd are two bands that are somewhat similar in their
psychedelic manner. If loverboy played a Floyd medley, shit would hit the fan,
I probably would’ve walked up to the mike and said,
“STOP IT!!! THE TERRORISTS HAVE NOW WON!”
I mean, I can just imagine Jim Morrison hanging out with his naked Indian in the
desert. Jim looks in the sand and sees Loverboy doin his songs.
“Oh god no!”
and the naked Indian goes on to stick his face in the sand and bawl for three
‘Do What you Like’ sounded like old Nintendo music.
‘When it’s over’ was a cruel joke. Fat Fuck had the entire crowd chanting,
“IT’S OVER!”. So I thought, Sweet, it must be over!
No, the best was yet to come. After ‘It’s over’ there was this awful 15 minute
bass solo. IT WOULD NEVER END! So I decided to walk around Deadwood for a
little bit. Touring the casinos and other knick nacks.
Finally when I came back the bass solo turned into a familiar song. Yes, I had that
urgeto cry and vomit simultaneously. ‘Turn Me Loose’ was now starting.
It may have been the pinnacle to a possible quarter life crisis. No lebowskifest, no
baseball,no marathon. Instead I get Loverboy. ugh
Yeah the song really sucked live, but everyone really wanted to hear it. Everytime I
think ofthe lyrics to that song I keep thinking,
“Why wont they turn him loose? Why does he want to make love to everything thing
thathe pleases? LET FAT FUCK GO SO HE’LL STOP WHINING ABOUT IT!”
FREE FAT FUCK!!!
So that was tough. Next was ‘Working for the Weekend’, which, I thought, was the
last song of the night. I mean, what else would? If you are loverboy and you play that
song,you’ve just blown your preverbail wad. Nah they kept playing and that’s when
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I mean, that’s just fucking silly.
So yeah, I’ll give it a D+ only because it was free.
Later this month, Cher and JOURNEY come to Rapid, but neither are free.<>
Other than music, my thumb ended up growing to the size of two thumbs. I had some
nice pain n’ puss to wake up to the past couple mornings. Yeah good things eh.
Things are goin good here, I haven’t been into too much trouble yet.
Getting ready to see some mad fireworks at Mt. Rushmore.
hope ya’ll are hangin in there.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
it's chilled us to the bone.
We haven't seen the sun for weeks,
too long, too far from home.
“Hello this is security. How can we help you?”
“A BEAR! I SAW A BEAR!"
Berg: There’s a bear out here! I swear it was just here!
Security: Tom, where are you at?
Berg: I just saw it a minute a go. It had to be a bear!
Security: Well, we have the cameras all around that area and we can’t find it.
Berg: I swear it had to be a bear! I saw it, it was just here! Dammit, now I’m looking around
Security: Ah are ya sure you haven’t been drinking? (background guy laughing)
Berg: No, uh-not yet. Damn, it must’ve climbed that tr--THERE IT IS!
Security: Yeah, we see it now. Go out and offer it a peanut butter sandwich.
Berg: huh huh, I should.
I’ve seen bears before and it’s nothing worth any kind of commotion about…unless you live in the suburbs. What the hell was such a bear doing around here anyway?
The subject of nature has sparked my interest lately. I think I have a lead to a possible thesis if I ever decide to attend professional nerdom or graduate school as it is called. I have always spited, been jealous of, and hated graduate students ever since I came to the U of M.
I was thinking that I would do a paper on birds and how they sing and stop singing.
Here’s the info,
I find that there’s always one single bird chirping away while I lay down at 4:30am. At this time of year and day this is a little too early for the birds to wake up. After about fifteen minutes of the solo chirping another bird will join in. This duet will take place for no longer than five minutes until silence sets in.
Now I don’t care about when the chirping stops or why the first bird is chirping in the first place. I want to know how that second bird is making the first bird stop.
I know that growing up with my brother we’d stay up all night, fill our pajama bottoms with baby powder, and slap our asses all night until the giant beast would violently open the door, squint, and yell,
“GOD DAMMIT, WILL YOU TWO JUST SHUT UP AND GO TO BED! I GOTTA WORK IN THE MORNING!”
Then me and my brother would try to silently slap each other’s ass. Always unsuccessful though.
*tear* good times.
Me and my brother would also soak each other’s underwear under the sink and put our soaked underwear in the freezer so they eventually turn into a frozen tighty whitey frisbies.
I should do that again…
Anyway back to the whole bird thing,
I’m thinking that that second bird is saying something like my dad, like: “WILL YOU SHUT UP, IT’S NOT TIME TO WAKE UP YET!” in a nice tweety-tweet sort of way.
It’s just that the second bird takes a good 2-5 minutes, so it has to be in the form of an ass chewin’.
The next steps would be to take the GRE and somehow get accepted into grad school and pitch this particular subject and then ask for a shitload of grant money.
In no time at all I’ll be Dr. Berg!
November's got her nails dug in deep
Haven't seen my son for seven years
and the chances are we'll never again meet
The first two lines of that verse are absolutely true.
The last two are uh--not true.
I don’t want to talk about the weather on here, but now it’s gone too damn far. Plus, I’m the blogmaster (for some reason Microsoft works thought I meant bolometer?) and so I’m going to bitch about the weather because I want to.
There was once a time last month where I turned my heat all the way down because I didn’t need it. Spring was here and in full effect. I would even make it routine to come home and open my balcony door all the way. Then the mosquitoes started coming out and I thought, ‘Man, wouldn’t it be great if we had another couple days of freezing temps so we kill off that first batch of mosquitoes?’. Then the mentality was: Temp gets cold, perspective of spring is lost until it warms up again, and then spring comes back again. Basically a double dose of one of my favorite seasons.
Sure enough half that wish was granted.
Now it’s been about two weeks later and I’m wondering when that freeze is going to stop. I had to turn up the heat in my place and I haven’t opened up my balcony door in a couple weeks. One Sunday a couple weeks ago we had flurries!
Flurries in MAY! I expect such crap in April but not the middle of May.
Is Mother nature on a smoke break?
Now this is the part of the weather rant where you think, ‘Oh, now he’s going to get into La Nina, El Nino, and global warming.’
Hell no. This is just pure bitching.
I usually go for a good run when it’s nice outside. I haven’t ran in about 10 days. It’s rained just about every one of those ten days!
What ever happened to those beautiful May days where we tar the license plate factory being men with our bottle of suds? Actually that was Shawshank--never mind.
May is a month where we smell the flowers and patiently wait for school to end in June. Seeing as I don’t go to school anymore, I’m supposed to be living it up now. And you can’t live it up in 45 degree pouring rain.
I mean what the hell?
Time for bed…
oh, these are jo-jos
Sunday, May 15, 2005
wasting time on dominoes
a day so dark, so warm
life that comes of no harm
you and I and dominoes, time goes by...
I’ve always played backyard football with Hog and company for about fifteen years now. Whenever we play it’s all about being outside, playing something somewhat competitively, and working up a sweat. There are no controversial calls because, who cares. The games just never come down to it.
When you actually pay to play football things are a little different. I wanna win and I want to win badly! I want to puke, rub my opponents face in my own vomit, and double back to kick their ass as they try to rub my acidic puke off their face. I also come home wanting to throw some pillows out my balcony and taking a running jump off my balcony to perform a piledriver onto those pillows. I couldn’t do that because it would hurt and be the second most stupidest stunt I have done in my lifetime. For some reason I feel the need to look like this and slap the turf. I also feel the need to buy stuff like cleats and gloves.
I don’t, however, want to be that one guy that’s so competitive that he’s as focused as a robot and pumps his fists just a second too long. I also don’t want to look like like this guy, and this guy, and this guy.
We ended up winning tonight and I celebrated by buying six cases of pop (144 cans). So now I have something going for me the next two days. I could’ve bought nine but I didn’t want to go overboard. Actually, I’ll buy three more cases sometime this week.
Buying this pop reminded me of a famous Mitch Hedberg bit,
I once bought pop for 2 bucks a case. When you buy pop that cheap you try to figure out crazy ways to start selling pop.
Mitch: Hey maaaan, wanna buy some pop?
Guy: Yeah how much?
Mitch: for 50 cents a pop. It’s warm though because this is a half assed commitment.
He says it a lot better
Actually for the crap list this week I thought I would do something imaginative and interactive. K, I want everyone to gather round in front and sing and clap.
Come on, Hannes, H, Hog, Eric, Lycradog, and you too Ron. You’re not sneaking out of this. I even want the people that read this and never post. You know who you are!
I’m gonna start saying some crap in the form of gospel and you all have to sing,
“Oh my X, X, sweet X” in a gospel-like way. While I’m dishing out my crap, ya’ll hum like
“hummmm ooooooommmmmm, huhhhhhhh ooooooommmmmm”
And I say X because I don’t know what the hell ya’ll believe in so we’re saying X. If ya don’t know what the hell is going on, then go and rent Glory.
JUST SHUT UP AND DO IT!
K, here we go,
Everyone: Oh my X, X, sweet X…. hooouuuuuummmm hoooouuuummmmm
Berg: Oh X, I can’t stand it when people pass away. If it’s not bad enough that you lose a loved one, It’s just as bad when others hear about it because it just causes nothing but awkwardness.
Everyone: huuuuuooooommmm huuuuuuoooooooommmm
Berg: You tell someone like your boss that you’re grandfather died and he’s like, “I’m so sorry” and you don’t know what to say in response so you’re like “uh, yeah it sucks” and look down because it’s what you have to do. Then the two of you don’t know what to say because nothing else seems appropriate.
I do think I know how to solve the awkwardness though. Ya lift up your shirt and start rubbing your belly. It works every time!
Everyone: Oh my X, X, Sweet X. huuuuooooommmm, huuuuuuuuoooooommmm
Berg: Oh X you are so sweet. I heard that Jessica Simpson and Fred Durst have started hanging out together.
Everyone: huuuuuuooooooom, huuuuuoooooooooom
Berg: You know I love love and I hope everyone finds it, but please X, please do not let these two procreate! If we thought Britney and that loser dancer having a kid is bad. The thought of a kid resulting from these two just makes me want to vomit and cry at the same time. Some people should not be allowed to have sex together and these two are probably near the top of the list.
Oh X, I pray that Simpson herself will stuff a sock in her vagina or relegate to oral sex because Jessica Simpson + Fred Durst = Creed
Everyone: Oh my X, X, sweet X…. hoooouuuuuuuumm hooooooouuuuuuuuuum
Berg: Oh yes indeed X you are so glorious. Please put your glory into getting rid of that annoying kid introducing NBA playoff basketball on TNT. If watching non-defensive playoff basketball was bad enough, we have to listen to some annoying kid introducing it. What ever happened to a simple voice over or music playing behind the basic scoreboard?
Everyone: Oh my X, X, sweet X….hooooummmmmmm hooooooouuuuuuummmm
And now it’s your turn. Who’s stepping up?
Thursday, May 12, 2005
My blinders up
Now all I gotta do is get up, go out, and get her
Got the first step down
Uh-know what I want
All seven senses tryin' to deliver
Berg: Hello, this is Tom.
Receiving end in a jolly voice: Hello, this is Larry Berg.
Berg blinks his eyes, frowns, and pauses for three seconds: Ah, what’s up Dad?
Dad: Well, I’m not really saying this as your Dad.
I'll stop right there.
So the question of the day is:
What do you say in response to that last statement?
And my Dad went on with work stuff and basically had to yell at me for my crew forgetting something the night before. It’s just that he did it in the ‘I-don’t-know-you, politically-correct’ way.
Louie Anderson: and out of 100 people surveyed, ‘What is the most awkward way to start a phone call?’
Mike Peterson: I’m going to say ‘I’m not talking to you as your father’.
Petersons: Good answer! Good answer!
Louie Andserson: Let’s see, ‘NOT TALKING AS A FATHER’!
Louie Anderson: NUMBER ONE ANSWER!!!! The Petersons won it! It’s time for fast money!
My Dad works at the same place I do and his department actually rivals mine in the construction side of things. There’s been daily conflict between the two departments amongst our colleagues but it’s never came up with my Dad and I. Nor should it ever because he’s retiring pretty soon.
We’ve rarely ran into each other because he’s a day guy and I’m a night guy. Plus, I don’t want to run into him at work because I’m afraid of a certain nightmare.
Let me explain,
My Dad is my idol. I only hope I live my life to be a shadow of who he is and what he stands for. He’s never drank and (other than the first few months of my life) he’s never smoked in front of me or at least while I was living at home. He’s an electrician and I always looked up to him being this Raiden type guy by fixing circuit breakers with a simple touch of the hand.
I grew up thinking the guy was magical because he knew everything and could fix anything.
Then I grew up (physically speaking) and eventually landed a job at his location.
Now my job entails construction up to a point. If one of my guys trips a breaker or if there is a leaky pipe anywhere, I need to ask the supervisor in my Dad’s department for the electrician or pipe fitter or AC&R guy.
So, if my dad were to work late for some reason and my guys tripped a breaker in his building, my Dad would probably come over, talk to me, and I would point him to where the breaker is.
Now this doesn’t seem to be that big of a deal to you guys, but for me this is overwhelming. For any other electrician it wouldn’t be a problem. Just tell the guy what to do, he does it, and reports to me when he’s done. It can’t be my dad though. My dad can’t report to me.
There’s something very paradoxical and disappointing about that. For some reason the pedestal my Dad was on seems to be nonexistent if he’s got to report to me.
Then, if all that wasn’t enough, I can tell you right now that my Dad would love that particular nightmare. He would LOVE to be my electrician. He would just get a big kick out of that.
In the meantime, I would be throwing up in the bathroom and crying for my childhood back.
Back to that crazy phone conversation,
The guys spends twenty years yelling at me on a daily basis and now he what-forgot or feels the need to beat around the bush?
I mean whaaaaaaat the fuck?
Do any of you guys put up with this kind of crap?
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
I’m so glad
I’m so glad, I’m glad, I’m glad
I consider myself to be a connoisseur of pizza, cheeseburgers, and jo-jo potatoes. I have no idea why I’m still involved in the jo-jo potato movement, but I am still the biggest jo-jo lover I know of.
It’s terrible--It really is. It all started with the local Knowlans grocery store just down the street from my house (and not to far from where I work). When class was finished at the U of M I would kill twenty minutes eating jo-jos and drinking Coke in my car.
I would head over to Knowlans at the same time on the same two days of the week. It would get to the point where the deli person would say,
“Pound of jo-jos? “ and I would nod accordingly.
Finally one day the lady said something like,
“Why don’t you just save some money and make your own?”
“I uh-uh, I don’t know. I like your jo-jos.” and I never went back to Knowlans for jo-jos again. How dare they call me out on buying so much greasy food. How dare they tell me to ‘make my own’.
So I ventured out to Cub Foods, which is ridiculously close to work. I walked up to the deli line when I saw S’s brother in law who I sat next to at S’s wedding (Also the wedding where I gave the best man’s speech). So we had one of those catch up conversations but it was ok because it’s been less than a year so it was cool.
It was finally apparent that I was going to Cub Foods too much when S’s brother in law said,
“Dude, you really do love your jo-jos. I can’t believe you just don’t make them yourself!”
“Fuck you bitch!” …on the inside
On the outside I was like,
“I uh-uh, I don’t know. I like your jo-jos.” and I never came back again.
Well, I came back but I haven’t lately.
The next stop was Cub Foods’ rival, Rainbow Foods. I stopped in the deli and ordered their jo-jos and they were exquisite! They were a little crunchy-but not too crunchy, they were greasy-but not too greasy, and they were $.50 cheaper too!
I found my new grocery store! Until…
Until after a good hundred orders of jo-jos the lady said,
“You order so many jo-jos. Why don’t you just make some?”
“I uh-uh, I don’t know. I like your jo-jos” and now I’m fucked!
I am going to have to find a new grocery store now.
And I can’t mention jo-jos without mentioning that Knowlans (circa: 1993-1998) had the *BEST* jo-jos I have ever tasted.
Oh my lord these things were awesome. I mentioned that Knowlans was just down the road from my house so I would bike over there and buy Doritos, and collect Pepsi points (what a bunch of bullshit that was), and I would load up on jo-jos for fifteen cents a piece.
These jo-jos were really crispy and had a nice breaded coating. It was like eating chicken without the guilt. Then I came back home from my first year of college and *tear* Knowlans changed their recipe for jo-jos marking one of the darkest days in the history of my world.
So ah…. THE END
But my memories they eat me.
I've seen it all before.
Bring it on cause I'm no victim.
I’m a huge fan of talk radio and yesterday I heard the following comment just before I went to work,
“…in my book Cal Ripken is overrated.”
I was playing some video game golf at the time and I instantly dropped my controller and thought about that statement and then frowned as hard as possible.
Knowing that this statement came from H’s roommate I instantly emailed H with,
Sent: Monday, May 09, 2005 2:25 PM
Subject: RE: I heart Will Smith
Cal Ripken, overrated?
Do me a favor and slap D when you get home.
And that was that.
But it wasn’t. That damn comment stayed with me until today and it kept eating away at me.
I was trying to plan the new project at work until, ‘Cal Ripken, overrated’ kept creeping into my mind. Everyone I talked to kept saying,
"Cal-Cal-Cal, overrated Ripken-Ripken-overrated-Ripken-Cal-overrated."
I shrugged it off and tried to put it behind me, but the baseball purist in me was saying,
“Tom, that’s complete blasphemy! Cal Ripken is overrated? You gotta be shitting me! You gotta call up H and tell him to tell D to go fuck himself! Do it! DO IT!!!
Then the easy going, carefree, serenity seeking part of me said,
“Fuck it dude, lets go bowling!”
Then I had,
“OVER-RATED-CHA,CHA,CHACHA,CHA, OVER-RATED!” in my head.
The carefree me was loosing a lot of ground.
So I had find old forums for people who felt Ripken was overrated.
Turns out the sabermetric nerds were saying that he was the leader in GIDP (ground into double plays) and his 3000hits and 400 HR numbers were only due to his longevity.
My head pretty much exploded from reading that shit and now I am happy to announce that I am typing this while decapitated. :]
Ah, I don’t know. I don’t remember Ripken being criticized for being the horrendous DB inning killer. I never thought longevity would be a *bad* thing either.
**Warning! Cathartic anecdotes and stats to follow**
-400 homeruns for a SS in the 80’s
-Over 3000 hits, which will be few and far between in the future
-1982 Rookie of the year (beat out Kent Hrbek I believe).
-Two time MVP (HELLO!!! Does that sound overrated to you?)
-Baseball-reference.com even compares him to ‘similar hitters’ as:
-And not to mention a certain streak he holds. I can’t remember what it is though.
My favorite all-time baseball memory is centered around Mr. Ripken as well.
Gather ‘round everyone
September 6, 1995 Game 2131
The game was televised on ESPN and it was the most anticipated game in five years. Everyone had it penciled in for years and this was the game. I was skinny 15 year old at the time and I wasn’t going to miss this game for anything.
Coming into this game I think everyone pretty much expected Ripken, being the center of attention for the country on this particular day, would go 0-4 and strike out a couple times due to such pressure. After all, everyone clearly came and watched for him and not so much for the Orioles. Plus, just the day before he crushed a homerun down the left-center seats during his streak tying game, which was amazing enough.
I can’t remember what inning it was but I know it was the middle innings when Cal ripped a pitch to the same left-center seats. I have never had chills as much as I had at this moment. Cal Ripken just hit a homerun during *his* game. The crowd went nuts and Chris Berman almost tossed his cookies calling the game on ESPN.
At that moment I figured that only Cal Ripken would be able to hit a home run during such a game.
Even typing that up gives me chills.
The guy played SHORTSTOP (of all positions) where every time there’s a runner on first he’s got to catch the ball in front of a guy running full blast at him with cleats pointed at his groin FOR 15 YEARS without taking a day off!!!!
GOOD GOD!!!! And the thought of someone comparing Ripken to AROD or Miguel Tejada is completely fucking stupid!
Apples and Oranges!
Now if it was someone else like Manny Rodriguez, Mike Piazza, Kevin Brown, or even Alex Rodriguez overrated, I wouldn’t really care. I’d even agree completely with the first three, but not Cal Ripken!
Ok I’m done.
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Wanted a woman, never bargained for you.
Take it easy baby, let them say what they will.
Will your tongue wag so much when I send you the bill?
I watched the best movie since I can remember.
About a year ago I was a little pumped for a certain movie that seemed to explore the global warming issue. The previews briefly and seemingly showed how the major biomes would change and how the world would be drastically different as a result of such warming.
I saw the movie and completely turned my back on Hollywood since. The Day After Tomorrow had tons of made up and junk science (an ocean freezing up in hours), completely stupid subplots (getting away from wolves), and nonsensical bullshit (hiking from Philadelphia to New York during the biggest blizzard in known history and making it in less than a day!).
The movie almost made my head explode and the bullshit just wouldn’t end. I remember the ending with all the U.S. citizens migrating to Mexico as a part of this emergency pact and the President calling the shots from Mexico City.
I swear it must have been written by a descendant of Shakespeare with such a deadly and nonsensical ending.
Sunday night I finally found a similar, lesser-known movie with decent acting and plausible plots. I watched the whole movie and was completely amazed and in awe of such a cool movie. The movie was on the Discovery Channel of all channels, and I just happened to switch the channel at the right time.
The “docu-drama) was called Supervolcano and it revolves around Yellowstone National Park blowing the fuck up. After reading up on the topic a couple months ago I found that there have been major explosions stemming from Yellowstone and some scientists will tell you that ever 200,000 years there has been evidence of ’something huge’ coming from Yellowstone. The last ’big event’ from Yellowstone happened about 230,000 years ago, so this movie seems a bit relevant.
I watched this movie with a steely eye waiting for some 80‘s sitcom-like acting but the movie was solid! There wasn’t any completely stupid subplots and nothing seemed overtly stupid in regards to the dialogue or actions. They even portrayed the Secretary of Homeland Security to be a complete asshat.
I also have to mention that the special effects were amazing and I’m not a ’special effects’ guy either. Usually with stupid movies like Independence Day and Day After Tomorrow some dumbshit will say,
“The movie is really weak but the special effects were out of this world!”which always makes me cringe. Movies that suck but still have eye candy are called pornos and it’s not like explosions are comparable to snowflakes. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. Explosions don’t make the movie.
Throughout the two-hour, commercial-free movie I was waiting for Paul Walker to come strolling in and destroy the movie with his “uh oh but…he didn’t!
Thank you Jesus!
So I give this movie eleven thumbs up!
Monday, May 09, 2005
While the seeds of lifeand the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime
After coming back from a 12-6 deficit and the ball on their own one yard line, team: Carries a Junkie (my team) came back to take the lead after a quick touchdown to Kim and the subsequent extra point by Tom “poopy doodle” Berg in the back of the end zone to pull ahead 19-12.
Team CSB came back to score with a minute left of play and it came down to the two point conversion.
(CUE: TERMINATOR THEME)
It now comes down to the 16 most talented touch-football athletes in the history of the world (just go with it) and it’s down to the game clinching two-point conversion. Team Carries a Junkie has come off of two disappointing defeats in as many weeks and CSB (or whatever) actually won a game.
The field was tainted with knowing dissapointment for one of these fearless teams as they both lined up for this important conversion.
“Hike!” and the play begins with five receivers spread out and going in every which way just to catch a couple yards of sweet victory.
Pump fake to the right, pump fake to the left. The quarterback runs right to avoid the heavy rush by Anita. Quarterback now runs left and finds someone open but he’s got to fire it low.
Cocks his arm and fires a foot above ground to a seemingly open pair of hands--until…
Tom “thunder buns” Berg dives (divids-doveded-divingly) takes that ball and smothers it to the ground.
The taste of sweet victory went to Carrie's a Junkie!
AND, I won the “May BBQ Poker Open” with my stellar poker playing! Got myself a trophy too!
I hate shopping for cards. I have a firm belief that all cards are irrelevant and stupid. It’s for uncreative people to plop down 3 or more dollars for someone else’s version of a fabulously funny card.
For Mother’s Day I was walking down the aisle of Walgreens looking for that one decent card. Right away I look at the end of the aisle where they have these square cards with strange abstract pictures and the unrelated scripture.
I got my friend this card where these kids are watering down the side of their house with garden hoses and the inside said something like,
“Wishing you a killer birthday!”
If there was such a thing as $3 for brilliance, that was it.
Lately they’ve gone away with these cards for more of the boring, traditional stupid cards.
In fact, last week for D’s birthday I got her a sympathy card and a bunch of crap for her being from Wisconsin.
For Mother’s Day I was flipping through the cards to find,
A. Hundreds of the pink, flowery, cursive dumb cards.
-Those just aren’t my style. It’s hard to make those wacky.
B. ‘To the best mother a kid could have!’
-Well, lets not go overboard here. I could just see my Mom opening such a card and saying,
“So you need to be sarcastic in the form of Hallmark cards now?” as I don a weak smile.
Whoever accepts these cards have to be arrogant or naïve because, I love my Mom, but she’s not the *best* mother in the world. The best mother in the world wouldn’t throw away Pink Floyd posters and force Catholicism on their kids for 19 years on their kid.
Just like I KNOW I’m not the best kid in the world. The best son in the world wouldn’t openly criticize their Mom the day after Mother’s day on the internet super highway. If I receive a “best kid” card I would probably drop it on the table, look at my parents, and say,
“You could’ve just given me the four bucks instead of this nonsense!”
C. “We’re doing the wave just for you on Mother’s Day!”
I actually saw this card.
D. Any “funny” card
These cards are about as funny as Fred Basset’s cartoon on Sunday. I’ll read these and drop them in the aisle in amazement that one would buy such a card.
I ended up buying my Mom an actual birthday card and crossing out the “birthday” and substituting the “Mother’s Day” instead.
Worked like a charm and she liked it, and I was satisfied.
2. Fred Basset cartoons
Every Sunday I need to read this 4-6 blocks of cartoon version of Webster because it’s freightingly horrible! You thought that Marmaduke and Family Circus was bad… *shudders*
What pisses me off even more is that someone is making money off this. Someone is making money off of this watered down, sterile, safe comic strip.
I could so easily come up with something better. It would have terrible drawings, plot twists, gnarly colors, and all the humor that one could want!
I would call it, “Zwistlittle” because it sounds cool!
3. Paula Abdul sleeps with…..
I…. really don’t care. She could sleep with H and I would be like,
“Oh, sweet. So when are ya barbequing again?”
PAULA ABDUL IS NOT A STAR! SHE HAD HER HALF HOUR OF FAME 15 YEARS AGO! Who cares what John Deere hat wearing tool she sleeps with?