Steee.......

Real American Heroes

"Stuff Sucks"

The Spectrum

Today it was announced that the Spectrum will be torn down next year. It is truly a dark day in Philadelphia sports history. While not quite as fond in my heart as the Vet was, the Spectrum will still be missed dearly I saw my first Flyers game there. I saw my first Sixers game there. My top 5 Spectrum memories.

5. Watching terrible Rob Haskin-led Saint Joe's teams take on equally bad Dusquesne or Fordham teams in the late 1990's during the Atlantic 10 tournament.

4. Going to a Phantoms game with Jose Rovelli. If there is anything worse than regular season hockey, it is regular season minor league hockey.

3. Never attending a lacrosse or indoor soccer game. I am very proud of never attending a LAX or soccer game at the Spectrum. This may seem easy to do, but for those that grew up in the Philadelphia area, you know it was hard not to get Kixx or Wings tickets thrown your way. And do you know why? Because it was lacrosse and soccer and those sports suck assholes. In my younger years, people would constantly tell me, "Wings games are a blast....the atmosphere is amazing." No thank you......fag.

2. March 14, 1995. Dana Barros dropped 50 points on the Rockets. Look it up. I was there.

1. The greatest memory of the Spectrum for me was a cold, winter night when the Sixers were playing the Pistons. These were the 2-time Champion Pistons and the Spectrum was rocking. It being a school night, and me being in third grade, my dad and I had to leave after the 3rd quarter. I wanted to watch the last possession of the quarter, so as my dad waited at the bottom of the ramp to the concourse, I watched the Sixers inbound the ball to Manute Bol. At this point, the Sixers were probably down 35 points. So the guards, most likely Dumars and Thomas, just applied light pressure when the realized Bol had the ball and was eighty feet from the rim. Bol panicked. Instead of dribbling (no chance) or lifting the ball 10 feet in the air, he did what any 7'7 Sudanese giant would do. While standing, he lifted up his massive leg, put the ball through his legs without dribbling, and then put his leg back down. The Spectrum went nuts at the least athletic move of all time. From what I remember, the Pistons guards backed away in awe and the crowd cheered and cheered. My dad almost didn't believe me when I tried to tell him what happened.



So there it is....thank you Spectrum...and thank you Dad for taking me to the "Manute game". And for never taking me to a gay soccer game or douchey LAX game.

Talking to Ron

A conversation I had with Ron yesterday:

Ron: Where can we go out to dinner in South philly?
Me: Ralph's
Ron:Where?
Me: Ralph's
Ron: What are you saying?
Me: Ralph's
Ron: Spell it
Me:cmon, Ralph's
Ron: I can't understand you. Walph's? Talph's?
Me: Ralph's
Ron:How do you spell it?
Me: R.....A.....L..
Ron: R.....A....U..?

chRONicles

The chRONicles

Christmas Eve, several years ago, I asked my parents what we were having for dinner that night. Apparently this was a foolish question as Ron immediately began asking me why I would ask something so stupid. He explained that we were having homemade cheesesteaks, as was our Christmas Eve tradition. This was confusing to me for several reasons:
1. I have never seen my father make cheesesteaks.
2. I have never seen my mother make cheesesteaks.
3. Unless it had been on hold for the 21 years I had lived to that point, we had no family tradition that dictated we eat cheesesteaks on Christmas Eve.

Despite the presence of these critical facts, the debate continued.

Me: Since when did we start having cheesesteaks on Christmas Eve?
Ron: You got a problem with eating cheesesteaks?
Me: Not at all.
Ron: Good, because its our new Christmas tradition.
Mom: He decided this would be our tradition.
Me: You can’t just pick something and make it a tradition.
Ron: The hell I can!

And so our Christmas tradition was born. It was born in Ron’s mind and forced upon the rest of the family without anyone else’s input. To his credit, he bought beef, chicken, and good rolls, so the meal was a success, despite the confusion. But the real beauty of this story occurs each Christmas Eve. You see, the cheesesteak ‘tradition’ has yet to be repeated. We have never had cheesesteaks on Christmas Eve again. What is repeated however, is me making fun of Ron every Christmas Eve for not continuing his ‘tradition.’ Much like its inception, the details on the end of the ‘tradition’ are vague at best. He claims that we did not appreciate the steaks and was forced to abandon our long standing(one year) family custom.
What I learned from this experience is that if you are trying to create a family tradition, its best to slowly work it in and let it grow over time. Ron forced it upon us and acted astounded when we questioned its origins. At the very least, a practice needs to occur in two consecutive years to be called a tradition. Also, bailing after just one episode is a significant detriment to a potential tradition’s growth.

Fake Cake

Quiz:

I will give you 4 lines from a Cake song. Pick the fake song lyric.

"The Distance"

a. the fans get up and they get out of town

b. assail him, impale him with monster-truck force

c. they deftly muscle and tussle, over the course

d. bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse

"Never There"

a. Take the time to get to know me

b. If you want me why not paint me?

c. Were always on this roller coaster

d. If you want me why cant you get closer?

"Short Skirt/Long Jacket"

a. I want a girl with a smooth liquidation

b. I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity

c. I want a girl with shoes that cut

d. I want a girl with the milk kept shut

"Short Skirt/Long Jacket" **this song is so absurd, i had to use it twice

a. She wants a tree house in the yard

b. And eyes that burn like cigarettes

c. With fingernails that shine like justice

d. Shes touring the facility and picking up slack

My Warped Sense of Humor

Two nights ago I was laying in bed with a girl. I had just gotten my knob slobbed, so I was feeling pretty, pretty good. For reasons I can not remember, I was patting her on her head while we(I) basked in our post-cshot bliss. Here is what transpired:

Her: I feel like a little girl with you patting my head.

Me:You're not the first little girl I've patted on the head in this bed.

Her: ugh.......more pedophilia jokes.

I was quite proud of my joke, and spent a good 30 seconds laughing at myself. Afterwards I thought to myself; where does this come from? How did I acquire this quick wit? When and where did I develop it? And why is it so often used in sick and twisted ways?