Archive for August, 2010

Relax, it's empty

Click the play button to hear me try to use the voice recognition feature on my stupid smart phone. It understands ‘Frank the Tank’ but not ‘Mom’. NSFW.

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Well, I don’t think I can handle this
A cloudy day in Metropolis

102 pack of beer

Grocery shopping

I know I haven’t been making as many posts as I used to. But my schedule this summer has been pretty hectic.


  1. Work
  2. Pool


  1. Pool

But the days are getting shorter. Football is almost here. And soon I will abandon beer at the pool for bourbon at home.

Then things should get back to normal.

A buddy recently offered to be my wingman for the night. I declined by explaining he was quite possibly the worst wingman in history.

“How can you say that?” he wondered.

Gee…let’s see…the last time he tried to be my wingman he told a group of women how cool I was ‘back in the day’.

Oh, and then he went into detail about how the girls in college used to think I looked like Sting, but now I look more like Drew Carey.


Shit, I felt like I was the subject of a Comedy Central Roast. I was just waiting for someone to bring me a big ass chair to sit in.

– Vote for The SOB as Best Blog in the Riverfront Times’ Best of 2010 Poll.

You make me smile like the sun, fall out of bed
Sing like a bird, dizzy in my head
Spin like a record, crazy on a Sunday night


A democrat friend and I are on different sides of the mosque near Ground Zero debate.


He says it’s about freedom of religion. I think it’s insensitive to the thousands of innocent victims killed by Islamic extremists.

Hamas has backed the idea. I’ve got Harry Reid on my side.


But I think there’s one thing we can all agree on. Obama should change his campaign slogan in 2012 from “Yes We Can” to “Mmmmm Hmmmm”

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Hey, Uncle Sam put your name at the top of his list,
And the Statue of Liberty started shaking her fist.

Woodpecker Block

I don’t mention my professional life too much on The SOB. Mainly because when it comes to being professional, I don’t have a lot to talk about.

But here’s a story from today I’d like to share.

I recently accepted a new position.

Drink – I said position.

My start date isn’t until next Monday, but I offered to work a few hours the rest of this week for training purposes. My new boss called today, and we agreed to meet tomorrow morning.

On the drive home I noticed the stupid smart phone in my pocket had somehow dialed my boss’ number back. And the length of the call was over four minutes.

When I put it to my ear, all I heard were voice mail options. You know, press #1 to send your message, #2 to keep recording, etc…

Now common sense would say I should’ve listened to all of the options, and hopefully there was one to erase the message and start over.

But me and common sense don’t meet up very often.

So here I am – having to spend the night thinking about what might have been recorded.

I know for a fact that I was farting like a pack mule on the way to my car.

Stupid Thai food.

I also remember saying something about how f’n hot it was when I got into the car.

Yeah, I talk to myself.

I just hope I didn’t say anything about the dumbass that cut me off in the parking lot, or the cute girl getting into her SUV.

Story Of The Year

I don’t understand at best
And cannot speak for all the rest

Urine Eliminator

It’s for a friend

When did being stupid become acceptable in this country? Lil’ Wayne, Jersey Shore, text messages…WTF?

I recently sent a professional email to someone that I had never spoken to before. I simply wanted to know if a procedure had been changed. Here’s the response I received:

let me f/u and il let you no

No need to run spell check on that.

And I get these all the time. It’s become the norm to write emails like they were text messages.


I remember a conversation I had with Issac during one of our summit meetings at Ozzie’s.

“How can anyone like Lil’ Wayne?” I asked.

“Say what you want. But he’s the number one selling artist right now,” he replied.

“That’s what scares me.”

Reality shows have always been stupid. In fact the only one I ever really watched was Real World with that Puck guy.

Oh, and maybe I left the remote alone for a few minutes while Newlyweds: Nick and Jessica was on. But that’s only because I once saw her ask if the tuna she was eating was actually chicken because it was called “Chicken of the Sea.”

So go ahead – watch your Bachelor and Bachelorette. And chillax to the flow of those nasty rhymes while gettin’ crunk up in your crib.

I ain’t buggin’.

I’ll be sitting here listening to country music, and maybe catch a Seinfeld rerun later on.

A go getter maybe I’m not
I’m not known for doin’ a lot
But I do my best work when the weather’s hot
I’m pretty good at drinkin’ beer

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