My deepest apologies

I must admit that I am a hypocrite. Every day I religiously check all of the blogs of those in our "special blogging circle" hoping and demanding that they have updated so I can entertain myself for at least a few minutes while simultaneously failing to update my own blog to give the rest of you temporary entertainment as I pour out endless gems of wisdom. And for this I am truly sorry. I can make up all kinds of lame excuses like I had homework to do or the phone rang or I was teaching the cat how to use the vacuum cleaner. But this is a lie. The mere fact that I have time to check all of your wonderful blogs every day and respond with detailed, deliberately orchestrated comments just proves that homework and stupid cat tricks can wait. What is more important is to let my friends, and the whole world if they so choose, know what is going on in my little world. So here is my sad attempt at apologizing for being a hypocrite. I hope you will accept it as I will make a much more valient attempt to keep the world updated with my endless gems of wisdom, or seemingly mindless babble, whichever you choose to call it. That is all. Thank you for reading.

"After losing 10 in a row, 1 game is a winning streak."

Today I attended the Brewer's game armed with all the essentials: all the necessary fixins for "salad in a glass" (more commonly known as bloody marys), beer, burgers, front row seats at the club level, a premier parking pass (we could have only parked closer if we had actually parked on the field), a karaoke machine complete with microphone for "making important announcements", and the company of three of the greatest people you will ever know. Yes, this had the makings of a great day.

10:15 am: Brent, Jenny, Patrick, and myself depart for Miller Park

10:30 am: Discover that express parking is not so "express" when you have to drive all the way around to get in, but are delighted to discover that we get to park literally 100 feet from the entrance.

10:33 am: Jennifer, Brent, and myself begin drinking our daily servings of vegetables while Pat starts in on the PBR.

10:40 am: The grill gets fired up and the burgers are cookin'.

10:50 am: Brent discovers the karaoke machine has a microphone and all hell breaks loose.

11:00 am: We begin to discover that everyone else is parking on the other side of the parking lot. We decide to take it personally. Brent uses the microphone to ensure them that we "do not bite and would like them to be our friends."

11:15 am: We decide that having a microphone warrants us to claiming that we have our own radio show. Because of this AM 1590 WHUU "the WU" is born, complete with DJ Delightful, who you all may know more commonly as my brother.

11:30 am: Some brave people take the plunge and decide it just might be safe to park next to us. They discover it's not when we immediately offer them free bloody mary's.

11:35 am: Stan from the brave car next to us is hired on as the meteorologist for WHUU. Like any good weatherman, all of his predictions are false.

11:40 am: We realize that our radio show reaches a solid fifty people. We are happy with the numbers but hope for a broader listening base on our next Brewer's excursion

Like any good radio show, our radio show included special segments and whacky promotions. My personal favorite segment was "drunken voicemails from grandma". Pretty self-explanatory. Our whacky promotions included Brent offering Bloody Mary's and free air time on our radio show in exchange for goods and services.

Phrases like "I'll give you a bloody mary if you hit my sister with a wet pickle" and "15 minutes of airtime on our radio show if you give us your big umbrella" are born.

The rest of our tailgating time is spent sitting in the rain pretending we have our own radio show (the show had to be temporarily moved to underneath the table while consistently bothering all of the people walking past us with our amplified voices.

1 pm: We finally realize that it is time to venture into the game. Though we are only 100 feet from the entrance, we decide it is still necessary to take a "walkin' beer." Attempts to finish said walking beer before reaching the gates proves unsuccessful for most.

We finally enter the game, sit in our fabulous seats, and thoroughly enjoy ourselves as the Brewer's finally win a game. Details of the game itself can be accessed per personal request and if I feel like telling you.

The moral of this post you ask?

Any idiot can have a radio show if he's got a microphone and a ridiculous radio name.

I don't think you're ready for this jelly

So today we decided it was necessary to download many ridiculous songs, most of them being of the female r&b genre. And in my quest for ridiculous songs I came upon what I would like to think is somewhat of a theme song for myself. If you know me and take a good look at the lyrics, I think you'll see what I mean.

Bootylicious - Destiny's Child

Kelly, can you handle this?
Michelle, can you handle this?
Beyonce, can you handle this?
I don't think they can handle this!

Better move, we've arrived
Lookin sexy, lookin fly
Baddest chick, chick inside
DJ, jam tonightSpotted me a tender thang
There you are, come on bab
yDon't you wanna dance with me
Can you handle, handle me

You gotta do much better if you gone dance with me tonight
You gotta work your jelly if you gone dance with me tonight
Read my lips carefullyif you like what you see
Move, groove, prove you can hang with me
By the looks I got you shook up and scared of me
Hook up your seatbelt, it's time for takeoff

I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this
Cause my body too bootylicious for ya babe

I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this=20
Cause my body too bootylicious for ya babe

Baby, can you handle this?
Baby, can you handle this?
Baby, can you handle this?
I don't think you can handle this!

I'm about to break you off
H-town goin hard
Lead my hips, slap my thighs
Swing my hair, square my eyes
Lookin hot, smellin good
Groovin like I'm from the hood
Look over my shoulder, I blow you a kiss
Can you handle, handle this

I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this
Cause my body too bootylicious for ya babe

I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this
Cause my body too bootylicious for ya babe

Move your body up and down (whoo!)
Make your booty touch the ground (whoo!
I can't help but wonder why (whoo!)
Is my vibe too vibealacious for you, babe

I shake my jelly at every chance
When I whip with my hips you slip into a trance
I'm hoping you can handle all this jelly that I have
Now let's cut a rug while we scat some jazz

[Scatting]

I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this
Cause my body too bootylicious for ya babe

a word everyone needs to know... and use more often

Recently, my good friend Jennifer and I have been, how should I say, unlucky in love. We have come in contact with men who we have decided can be best described as "triflin'". Upon further thought, we realized that we don't exactly know what the word 'triflin' means, so I thought perhaps some investigation was in order to ensure that these men in fact are what we are claiming them to be. When looking up slang words there is simply no better place to go than urbandictionary.com. So here goes.

Trifling:
1. (adj.) Describing a situation, person, or event that is pathetic.
2. shady, not right

Yep. I think that sounds about right. Just thought everyone should know.