HOT!

So the U.S was playing Jamaica, not Mexico. That's disappointing, but the 3-1 result wasn't. I think I may have started every post so far with the word "so". If not, at at least feels like I have.

More importantly, it is really hot. I don't know if you noticed this, but go outside (if you dare) and check it out. Its that kind of hot that stings your skin like you can feel it burning you. Granted, I'm not in Palm Springs or Hesperia, but at least their heat is a dry heat. I'm OK with heat, but when your sweat is sweating, that's not good.

I mention the heat because I noticed yesterday how much more comfortable my "junk" is in boxer briefs on hot days than in boxers. You see, I needed to do laundry so I wore my Simspons boxers and let's just say the boys were going everywhere. So my suggestion guys, is to ventire into the world of boxer briefs. Everything is kept in its place and not stuck to the inside of your thigh.

TGIF? MY ASS!

I used to really like Fridays. Maybe I still do, but once you become a teacher Friday becomes that day where you have a drink or two (or six) and then pass out at 10:00. Maybe that's just what happens to me. Friday is now a day for recovering and then Saturday is relaxing, but Sunday brings church and then figuring out what the hell I'm going to do Monday.

So this Friday is especially pathetic. My better half went to San Jose for a cousin's wedding and I'm stuck here by myself. Now, I've lived in the Greater Pasadena area for over a year now and have yet to make any local friends that are not actually friends of my fiance. I always had people to hang out with in my last hometown, but that is past and they all have kids and never come to Galaxy games with me anymore. To make a long story short, Amanda sends me a text message saying that she is dancing to AC/DC with her drunk parents. I should have replied and said that I am sitting in my stuffy apartment writing on my blog that nobody reads having watched "Team America" and "Anchorman" while pretending to clean up this fucking pigsty that I live in. However, I would have to admit my patheticness to that and I outright refuse to do so.

But it gets better. And that's not meant as a joke like "then the electricity went out." This weekend brings more footy action than I can shake a stick at. First, the U.S. squares of vs. El Tri in the Gold Cup tomorrow followed by a trip to Victoria Street for Galaxy vs. Chivas, so both of the Mexican sides that I despise the most will be on the fixture for a lovely Saturday. Sunday is the special practice session with Real Madrid and Monday night is the Galaxy vs. Real Madrid match. Granted, I think my teams will take 2 of 3 at best and more likely 1 of 3, but any weekend with 2 live matches and 1 TV is a good weekend. Now I just need to squeeze in some makeout time with the old lady.

Well, my latest attempt to get through a book is calling me to come finish reading. I was really excited about this book at first, but there is way too much feminine emotion and not enough revolution. If someone actually reads this and is intrigued leave a comment and I'll share more about the book later. Instead, more reading for me and no more reading this for you.

Post #2

So happy Bastille Day! Wait, we're supposed to hate the French. Well, if I can use the celebration of French "independence" to drink then so be it.

So I'm getting married next summer and it is very exciting. However, it turns out planning a wedding is a lot of work. Really, I should just learn not to care and let the future Mrs. deal with everything, but I'm too much of a control freak for that. I don't even let my students pass out papers half the time. However, I really only care about the things a guy should care about...food, beer, the party, and the flowers. Well, I care about the actual wedding service as well, but that's part of being raised in a church and actually enjoying it. In any case, I still have over a year to plan and lots of things to do and lots of money to spend.

Which brings me to my point. What's the big deal about weddings? I am caught wanting to invite every relative, friend, acquaintance, well-wisher, and bum off the street. Does it really matter? Do I have to invite people just because they invited me to their wedding? Is it my fault that I went to their wedding and drank all the beer? If they didn't want that to happen then they should not have invited me. I'm not inviting them. So here's to all of the people that I am not inviting to my wedding. You probably fall into one of two categories: (1) I really want to invite you, but can't afford to buy $50 worth of food and booze for you and a guest and I feel really bad about it. (2) I really don't like you and you wouldn't be worth a Slim Jim and a bottle of Boone's. Chances are, if I went to high school with you, column 2 is the better option.

Speaking of high school, my 10-year reunion is in the next few weeks and they want me to pay $85 to drink shit alcohol with a bunch of people I never really liked and who never really liked me. If I wanted to do that I'd buy a fucking case of Ancient Age and drive to France. Which brings me back to Bastille Day. I guess I probably shouldn't drink tonight after all.

And I was kidding about the flowers.

Popping my cherry

I really felt like I needed to use a somewhat-offensive cliche to open my first post. I also thought that it should be entirely lacking of any original humor. So there you go.

So what is the point of this whole thing? I was jealous of some friends that have a blog going so I decided to jump on board with my own waste of space. I guess people could theoretically read this, so don't expect me to reveal any deep dark secrets...except my obsession with midget pirate porn and ninjas.

Things about me:

I'm a teacher, I'm getting married next year (2006), I am a soccer fan (L.A. Galaxy season-seat holder, Euopean Champions Liverpool FC), and I have been known to drink a beer or two. Everything else is trivial.

I have to work in the morning so I am not going to write anymore.