Fat Man Running

Observations of a London Street Rambler

2012-02-16T13:18:00.002-05:00

As the past few days have been quick to remind me, the intent of my current stint overseas is in no way meant to tickle my fancy. The days have been long due to supporting a combination of efforts of which I can't seem to fully escape, meaning the rumored 3pm jaunts to local pubs are but a figment of my imagination.

Luckily, I've been able to pull myself away from a poor office internet connection, unreliable phone line and vacant apartment neighborhood to wander the streets of London in the evening. While much of the wandering has been quiet, a few incidences have sprung up worth sharing:

Early Evening Drunkards

I'm not sure what volume of alcohol would make anyone wander the streets at 7:30pm on a Monday screaming the following, but I one day hope to find out. This particular bloke (see, I'm learning the lingo) was as disheveled and aged as one would think. Among his highlights were:

"What the fuck is this? WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?"

"All because NO ONE KNOWS THE SCORE!"

"I could rob a bank with a bunch of FUCKING MONKEYS!"

It's important to note that there was neither an athletic competition, bank or zoo within several hundred yards, which only made the commentary more entertaining. Unfortunately I was unable to convince him to elaborate on the intended meanings of his messages.

Amazing Sights

London, as you might expect, has some amazing sights to be seen, especially in the evening. While the House of Parliament, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace and the like are picture worthy (unless you forget one of the 3 camera inclusive devices you brought along), wandering the streets solo on Valentine's Day leads to even better discoveries. Among them:

A brand new Lamborghini in line behind a brand new Rolls Royce. I'm not a car guy, but I'm pretty sure both left me half erect.
A list of things I'd prefer prison rape over: The London Eye, A Black Tie Chartered Boat Cruise with 250 Strangers, Seeing Men in Running Tights and Being One of the 3 Guys Holding a Bouquet of Flowers and Bitterly Drinking Directly from a Bottle of Wine While a Girl Wept Quietly Next to Them
A "Woman of WWII" monument depicting the woman from behind in an incredibly unflattering way
The 2012 Olympic's Logo Everywhere. Warning: Once you realize it looks like Lisa Simpson giving oral pleasures you can never unsee it (thanks yet again for spoiling my innocent mind Reddit!)

Ahhhh, Pubs!

As of this writing I had visited exactly one pub and had one beer along side a combination of chicken and curry. Pubs are tricky as it is difficult to tell those with some charm from those run by a major company and being just one step above TGI Fridays. Unfortunately this pub was as bland as the tikka it served, so I decided to spice things up a bit...by talking to a lady! In my defense, she was the only other solo one there, so it was more to fill the time than hit on her. Luckily, my smooth moves are still effective, so it only took 3 well placed comments to claim a full bench for myself:

"Nice laptop, mind if I sit down?"
"You're not from around here, are ya? Don't worry, I'm not as idiotic an American as you would think."
"Oh, Lithuania? That's kind of like Russia, right?"

I can only say that I'm proud to have helped someone break a human powered land speed record.

The Girls

How could I travel to a foreign land without completely objectifying half of their population based solely on physical appearances and incredibly infrequent interactions? Based on what I've seen so far, the ladies of London are the most average women in the world - they are neither too big/small, hot/fugly, tall/short or scrawny/voluptuous - nearly every one is a solid 6! It likely doesn't help that they have nearly identical indistinct features of a girl I once ~~took to expensive dinners while she banged other dudes~~ courted unsuccessfully, but I've found not one that made my mouth water more than a brand new Rolls Royce.

All in all the trip is still entertaining and I plan on making at least a few alcohol related mistakes this weekend (think wrong turns and missed steps, not hookah bars and drag queens). London certainly is a great place for sight seeing and worth a visit or two, but not nearly as adventurous as the brutal weekday competitions of the NH Sport and Social Club that I'm used to.

A Man, His Thoughts, And A Boatload of Poorly Charged Electronics

2012-02-12T18:55:00.000-05:00

So I'm a bad, bad blogger. I've gone almost a full year without posting, despite several very entertaining races (Yay Reach The Beach, Pineland Farms Trail Run and Cross dressing 5k/6 beer challenge), an incredibly entertaining summer of dating and more changes at work than I can remember. As a friend once told me - blogging is for those who fall in that gray area between too boring to write about and too active to actually write, and I seemed to have stumbled into the latter category for a stint.

The good news is, all of the above have been for the positive. The running is theoretically slimming, the dating theoretically enjoyable and work theoretically profitable. Even better - the profitable aspect (namely life at everyone's favorite AppSec company) has lead to an adventure where I'll be hopping across the pond for nearly a month in order to better support some co-workers.

It was during this first hop that I learned that not all international flights between first world countries have Wi-Fi, personal video monitors, power outlets or any form of entertainment not related to canceled NBC programming. Luckily, 7 hours in a confined, sleepless space can do wonders on a mind constantly in need of stimulation. Even more luckily for my 2-3 adoring fans, I decided to write down some of the wondrous thoughts formulated 7 miles over the Atlantic:

Real portions sizes are great, especially if you've just ripped a large hole in the crotch of your cargo pants.
Michael Lewis writes some great sports books, but his financial books are even better.
Why the hell do I always forget Lewis is married to Tabitha Soren of MTV fame until I read his acknowledgments?
The New "Footloose" movie! Um, no.
Kenny Loggins stands the test of time.
The new girl is great. I'm sure I'll pay for this gushing at some point.
Tina Fey and Steve Martin should have a baby, if for no other reason than to ensure I have a lifetime of smart humor available to me.
People that refer to themselves as enjoying smart humor are usually pretentious pricks.
I'm pretty sure no one has ever said "Wow, I feel so much better now that I scarfed down that Otis Spunkmeyer baked good!"
Finding a tour guide page titled "London's Best Curries" elicits the same wide eyes I used to show when given a yard long pixie stick.
Muenster cheese - Awwww yeah!
At least I can now blame the pee stains on my pants on the turbulence.

No, it's not the best written list, but it should get a chuckle or two. I'm hoping the coming weeks will end in lurid tales of mistaken identities, unknown alley ways and parts of London no American has ever experienced. More likely it will end in exhausting sight seeing, travel blogging and longing to no longer smell of curry when I sweat.

Old Writings, Same Me

2011-03-29T17:49:00.007-04:00

While going through some ancient relics, I recently stumbled upon several items which can not be valued in any way known to man. Among the treasures were a High School Football Coach's Award (aka, "Good Hustle Fat Kid"), a couple letterman jackets and some photos that will bring pure joy for hours on end (take a look here and here). Even better I found some poems that I was required to write for my stoner 10th grade English teacher.

Normally such assignments are approached by teens with contempt and fear, but in rereading these nuggets of beauty, I'm now convinced in time travel. It is as if a 35 year old version of myself manipulated the laws of physics, sat down my 16 year old self and gave the following words of wisdom: "Self deprecation, smart-assery and a borderline condescending attitude will get you everything you want in life."

Luckily, my 16 year old self seems to have listened fully to the advice. The resulting 4 poems contain mockery of both myself and the assignment, to the point that the teacher had no choice but to give them a perfect score. If these aren't Fat Man Running v1.0, I don't know what is.

"Sehr Gut"

(Note: Shut up, I thought German was cool at the time)

I laugh out loud, everyone stares

I say something dumb, nobody cares

I ask out a girl, she wants to be friends

I'm not up to date with the newest trends

I got a new car, it goes really fast

Sometimes in sports, I'm the one that's picked last

Everyone knows about my huge family

UMass' center was Marcus Camby

My favorite expression is "What the heck?"

I am me, what do you expect

"No Glory"

(Aka, fat kids must be lineman)

You dig in the trenches and lift the big weights

You get sweaty and dirty and fall in positions glory boys hate

You look like a giant and feel like a fool

When you talk with a mouthpiece that makes you drool

You run a five-five forty without any sweat

It's the girls in your head that the coaches fret

You are a lineman, the best of positions

You wouldn't miss practice unless it's for fishin'

(One more note: This is obviously a generalization as I don't think I've ever willingly gone fishing)

"Why Now"

I sit on the bench all night long

Then go home and watch the movie King Kong

It's the same thing every Tuesday and Friday

It's up to the coach, playing time's his say

I go to school all day long and practice all night

Then me and Reg get in to small fights

I run and dribble and dive on the floor

But still check my pants when I finally score

I miss all the lay ups and knock down the treys

My work ethic is good and improves every day

Me and the bench, we are best of friends

My pre-game meal consists of two hens

What was that? Coach said my name?

"Get me some water" he says with a flame

It's finally a blow out, I get to go in!

But when I stand up, I fall without grin

I fall to the floor with a mighty crash

Because I have forgotten about my nasty jock strap rash

"Skowhegan"

This town sucks, it really does

There's nothing to do besides count navel fuzz

The only thing fun is watching TV

The whole town knows when you're taking a pee

You always get caught when you get drunk

I can't back up without hitting a tree trunk

If you lock you're doors, you're surely a fool

'Cause all the dumb thieves break in to the schools

The hospital here isn't that good

You could diagnose the problem better than they could

In short, this town sucks, it isn't that fun

Especially when you get a bad case of the runs

And for the record, there are about a thousand inside jokes above that make these "poems" much more enjoyable. Of course, my family still has their own private stash that they enjoy reciting over the phone when I get too mouthy...

Wait, First Dates Can Be Fun?

2011-03-27T20:34:00.002-04:00

As anyone who has read more than 3 of my previous blog posts well knows, my romantic life tends to be just a couple small notches above a shitshow. Of course, this isn't the typical "trailer on fire, tires slashed, baby momma drama" shitshow, but instead an "awkward silence, foot in mouth, absolutely no connection" shitshow. After seeing clear evidence of this pattern yet again becoming prevalent in my life, I decided to treat the current round of dating more like a science experiment, which has garnered some interesting initial results.

(***Important Note***: This is not meant to be a gushing email about the lovely lady who accompanied me on the outing. She does seem like quite the catch, but a first date is only enough to eliminate a total dullard, not lock in my next subject of semi-obsession).

Experimental Details

The Theory: A straight-forward, no-nonsense, avoid-the-normal-dating-games attitude may actually work with sane, intelligent, ambitious-in-life girls.

The Experiment: Completely update my Match.com account to remove any doubt about what I want, who I am or what I look like. Skip the normal cutesy, joking or sensitive gunk and get right to the point. Ultimately, the profile has a picture of me as you'd find me on a Saturday night (unshaven, wearing a long sleeve t-shirt with geek glasses and celebrating with a three beer fueled smile) and two direct, one paragraph sections (available upon request):

About Me
About The Chick I want

Initial Results: An immediate increase in lovely ladies viewing my profile, sending me messages or winks (a virtual wink though, really?), and ultimately an incredibly enjoyable first date (keep reading to understand the definition of 'incredibly enjoyable'...)

Initial "Test" Subject/Activity Partner/Date
The initial test subject was one that had to really break the previous mold of partially intelligent, nearly mute, rarely laughing types of ladies that have tended to show up to the many Starbucks and Paneras in which I've sat uncomfortably throughout the years. I also narrowed the age range to someone within a couple years of myself and immediately eliminated anyone with:

Rampant misspellings in their profile or emails
References to how she'd really like to try a 5k/hike/some other simple activity
Obvious non-compliance of my Mom's "Rule of Ass" (to be known as MROA from here on out)
Signs of being a dullard - either borderline or completely
Other completely arbitrary disqualifiers that changed depending on my mood, randiness and alcohol consumption at time of communication

Luckily a very intelligent, active, driven, engaging and attractive young lady tickled my fancy and a driving range outing was scheduled after a week or so of exchanging emails. (Again, this is not intended to gush about her, just set the stage and flatter her if she stumbles upon this post.)

The Outing

Seeing as how the change in attitude and approach was going so well, I continued with the same mindset. Rather than seeing this little meet up as an event in which I attempted to impress a girl with bad jokes, obscure references and long-winded tech babble (or "smart stuff, smart stuff, blah, blah, blah" as a certain cousin called it recently), I decided to treat it as a golf outing with a new activity partner. The difference was immediately noted:

Limited Forced Conversation - The conversation started short and sweet with an obvious excuse to end awkward silence (namely, buckets of balls to smack) as needed. This limited the forced conversation and actually allowed for more entertaining discussions.
Reminder of a Mutual Try Out - Every time I got a bit nervous, I remembered that this was a mutual try out - I was kicking her tires as much as she was kicking mine. For every bad joke I made, she whiffed at an unmoving ball. For every long, straight drive I had, she flashed even more intelligence or a great smile. It was like we both read the first 3 pages of "Alternative Flirting for Dummies" and alternated actions from the "Do's" and "Don'ts" lists.
Display of True Nature - There is only one thing more infuriating than completely whiffing at a golf ball - a smart-ass, giggling fool who just smacked a ball 250 yards dropping a teasing insults every time you do. If there is ever an opportunity for a real attitude to show through, the first driving range session of the season with a complete stranger is the time.
A Chance to "Check Out the Goods" (In a Non-Pervy Way) - Some may not want to admit it, but physical attraction plays a part in all relationships. The amount differs between individuals, but a first date is the first chance to gauge the level of attraction. Luckily I had gotten to the range early and found side-by-side hitting booths. By pure chance, I ended up in the booth behind her. Now, of course this wasn't planned, but it at least gave me an opportunity or two to check out her swing, posture, and of course make sure she fulfilled the MROA. For the record, she passed with flying colors.

The Aftermath

The driving range outing was actually quite a success. Not only did most of my game carry over from last season (this really isn't saying too much...), but we both seemed to have a blast. It took us nearly two hours to hit 60 balls each - much longer than it should have. The laughing and talking spilled over to a sushi bar where a fish filled boat the size of a Buick was presented as the standard dinner for two. After 3.5 hours, she had not managed to bore me at any point, and as far as I can tell, I rarely offended her. I'm not sure which of these tasks are more impressive, but they are mutually unusual.

The future is unknown and unpredictable (although if she stumbles upon this and previous posts, she may be a little taken aback by my seemingly non-sensical approach to dating), but this mini-experiment at least helped me realize that it is impossible (albeit difficult) to have an enjoyable first date. The key is just good company, fun times, some confidence and a small amount of booze and Red Bull about an hour beforehand.

Stay tuned for my likely next post - How to Blow a Great Opportunity By Posting Your First Date on the Internet.

Fantasy Dating

2011-02-23T18:07:00.023-05:00

The Rambling Prologue

Portsmouth, NH may be a beautiful place 10 months of the year, but January and February can be absolute beasts - the days are short, the people are grumpy, the wind is frigid and outside of dodgeball, drinking and Black Ops marathons, there's just not a whole lot to do. Every year as despair begins to set in and one becomes more and more thankful for mandatory firearm waiting periods, Spring will bless the Seacoast with scattered 50 degree blasts of sunshine. The first of such days occurred last week, much to the joy of the community, and more entertainingly, to my mind which has decided to go from contentedness with 9pm bed times and Adam Sandler movies to the exact opposite end of the spectrum in searching for mates worthy of reproductive exploits.

Of course, the logistics of such searches are complicated and dangerous grounds that should not be tread upon lightly. Among the factors that must be considered are social awkwardness, a mother's requirements (specifically, a dress size no larger than a 12, or if the lovely lady is a wearer of man jeans, a waist of no larger than 31 inches), extra hesitant targets of admiration, manscaping and, of course, which t-shirt is more impressive ("I Shaved My Pubes for This?" narrowly edges out "Wine 'em, Dine 'em, Sixty-nine 'em" in almost every category).

Chazzy Gets His Groove Back

Luckily, friends can be more than willing to ruin their good names in an effort to live through a typical Fat Man Running dating experience. While the most recent (and honestly, only) one of these outings did not live up to normal levels of jackassery, there were a few highlights:

An introduction of "Hi, I'm Chad and apologize for the rest of the evening in advance"
Sharing 20 ounces of delicious Bud Lite with your friend's pants within 2 minutes of it being delivered
Big Buck Hunter marathons at all you can eat sports bars
A life recap of "My best relationship ended with the chick moving to Alaska and shacking up with another chick"
Open and specific discussion of the above "Mom Big Butt Requirements"

The League

As these exploits were chuckle worthy, they certainly didn't entertain close friends and family members in a way they've come to expect. Because of this, it has been proposed that the dating issue must be forced in a way that can be considered both proactive and engaging at the same time. With this in mind and a common desire to restart the Fantasy Football season 6 months early, a hybrid set of Fantasy Dating rules has been proposed:

8 competitors (we'll call them "handlers") get access to the same online dating account with my information
Each handler gets to log in twice a week and pick 2 girls to contact. These may not include fatties, dumbies, obvious dullards, or anyone that would make me audibly gasp upon first meeting (aka, "defects").
Each handler will be allowed a maximum of 4 messages with each girl which must result in a face to face meeting or termination of contact
Each handler will have one audible which they can use to terminate one of their relationships at any point for the greater good
I will have audible veto power which can be overruled by a majority vote

The Scoring

Once contact has been initiated, scoring will occur in the following manner:

Any date falling in the "defects" category: -5 points
Disinterested date (texting/drifting/taking calls): -2 points
Date taking "emergency out" call: -2 points/+2 points if handler is the one making the call
Full coffee without exercising her emergency out option: +1 point
Full outing: +2 points
Sharing of saliva: +5 points
Sharing of non-saliva fluids: +9 points (can include spilled/thrown beverages)
Real adult relationship > 2 months: +15 points

The Payout

The 8 competitors will compete for bragging and torture rights over a 5 month span at which point the Fantasy Football season will be underway and female companionship mostly unneeded for five months. While there are no monetary awards the pure entertainment value of such shenanigans will likely be worthy of currency if presented in the correct medium.

The Joys of Online Dating

2011-02-11T17:49:00.017-05:00

Having recently re-entered the world of dating (both online and, in theory, face-to-face), I vowed not to take anything too fast or serious. I've also decided that since the odds of periodic rejection are fairly high(which is a fair assumption; reference: "my life"), then I might as well have a little fun with it.

Luckily, it turns out that the combination of a few beers, free online dating sites, and a handful of girls that seem semi-interesting can lead to some surprisingly entertaining quotes. While these may not be of the level of my new goto pick up line ("My mom doesn't want me dating a chick with a big ass, but I think she'll make an exception for you..."), I think they are worth repeating to the 3-4 family members that check this jumble of words on a semi-consistent basis.

I'd like to say that the following were all written in jest, alas that would be slightly more than a white lie. These are 100%, honest to goodness lines, that even upon re-reading, I sent to a hot internet babe in hopes of a quick response. Oddly enough, they haven't been all that successful, as my writing this post and playing Black Ops on a Friday night may attest to...

"I'm really good at...Obscure references, misplaced sarcasm and bringing about general awkwardness"

Upon further review, I guess that a night full of obscure references and sarcastic half jokes about a lady's appearance may not be all that appealing. I guess guys just don't get bonus points for good old honesty like they used to.

"I've been roaming the streets looking for a fight, but haven't had any luck as of late. I'm starting to think I may have to expand my search across the Maine and Mass borders. Where do you usually fight?"

In my defense, this was in response to some chick's stupid super hero joke. Writing "haha, that's funny" is a little too boring for me, so I just decide to take it too far...

"Good choice on the 'God Delusion' - I've been battling with it for the last year off and on. The writing and logic are great, as are Dawkin's conclusions..."

Because first internet 'dates' are supposed to be all about religion and politics, right?

"I have the Glee mix of 'Bust a Move' on my Great Bay half training mix. Top that!"

Typically, I think this one would be a hands down winner. Nothing screams "I'm fabulously stuck in the past" like acknowledging a knowledge, enjoyment and active involvement in the phenomenon that is Glee. Challenging the lovely lady to top such a claim is both an impossible task and somewhat telling statement.

"I've somehow managed to avoid the shift to Python and stuck with Perl as my scripting language of choice."

And the winner...a reference to my preference of an old school scripting language over a young up-and-comer. I actually spent another sentence or two going into more detail, but could not bring myself to copy and paste the shit show of my trying to hit on a hot internet babe of PhD proportions.

2011 Race Training - Playlist All Stars

2011-01-14T12:15:00.035-05:00

Having recently pursued nonathletic adventures in urban living, cohabitation and extended confinement in a 4'x8' space, the urge to run a somewhat challenging race crept back into my quickly aging legs. Sure, I'd done a 4 miler or 10k here and there, but my rigorous training schedule for those typically consisted of a few lumbering 5 mile jogs each week and required no attention to pace, eating habits or training plans.

So on a whim, I signed up for an early April half - my first in nearly two years. Luckily, I was able to dig up a few useful resources in planning for this surprisingly hilly course:

Hal Higdon's Training Guide - Straight forward, easy to understand and targeted towards multiple levels of runners. I prefer a slightly modified version of the Novice plan.
Google Calendar - To schedule those pesky training runs that good ole' Hal insists on. I find that email reminders of "Run, you fat ass!" can be quite motivating.
LiveStrong.com - An outstanding site for tracking runs, meals and a variety of other useful tools. It definitely helps reconsider that mid-day mocha or push for one more mile at the end of a long run.

Of course, none of this would be fun without an accompanying playlist - my own personal montage music if you will. Having already dedicated a full post to the brilliance of one Mr. Benjamin Folds and another to previous incarnations of my playlist, I figured a third was in order. The below playlist all stars have a pretty distinctive 60s/70s feel to them, but are definitely worth consideration for any soundtracks that need refreshing:

Songs to Fight Through that First Mile

Cecilia - Simon & Garfunkel

You Don't Mess Around with Jim - Jim Croce

When the Sun Goes Down - Arctic Monkeys

Upbeat Songs to Get Ya Goin'

Freewill/The Spirit of the Radio/Tom Sawyer/Limelight - Rush

25 or 6 to 4 - Chicago

The End - The Beatles

Gotos for Eating Up Long, Shapeless Distance:

Suite: Judy Blue Eyes - Crosby, Stills & Nash

Paradise by the Dashboard Light - Meat Loaf

Jessica - Allman Brothers Band

Obligatory Ben Folds Inclusions

Effington (a cappella version) - Ben Folds

Jackson Cannery - Ben Folds Five

One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces - Ben Folds Five

Quick and Easy Songs to End the Day

America - Simon & Garfunkel

Stuck in the Middle With You - Stealers Wheel

Wonderwall - Oasis

A Recipe to End the Year On

2010-12-31T14:16:00.010-05:00

Having spent my previous New Year's Eve in an entertaining but way too healthy manner, I made a pre-2011 resolution to consume as much combined sugar, caffeine and alcohol in one night as my quickly aging body would allow, while still being able to drive to a wedding the following day.

The natural choice for such a challenge was the much ballyhooed Four Loko, which proudly boasts having as much caffeine as a large cup of coffee mixed with up to 12% alcohol and a fruity kick for fun. Alas, in a show of surprising responsibility and potential intelligence, our government quickly banned the product enjoyed by frat boys from coast to coast

Luckily, college age degenerates are plentiful, creative and internet savvy, leading to home brew Four Loko instructions quickly being posted on YouTube:

Unfortunately, I don't keep a regular supply of St. Ides Malt Liquor in my humble abode as the instructions recommend, and typically avoid straight consumption of caffeine pills as they occasionally can cause hearts to stop beating. With those factors in mind, I hit up Walmart and the local liquor store, and after a little experimenting, came up with the following recipe with not quite disappointing results:

Ingredients:

2 - 12 oz cans of Monster Lo-Carb Energy drink
10 - Jolly Ranchers (The purple/blue combination is recommended although pink/red worked ok as well)
32 oz diet sprite
12 oz Pomegranate Vodka

Instructions:

Dissolve the Jolly Ranchers in the Monster for ~12 hours
Mix everything together
Drink

The resulting mixtures contained somewhat unnatural hues of reds and greens but goes down as easy as Kool-Aid (this was confirmed with several small children playing outside). While the results of consuming such a brew have yet to occur, and will likely be best left undocumented, it can only be assumed that caffeine + booze = pure awesomeness.

Long Distance Subletting in NYC~or~You're Gonna Get Screwed

2010-12-11T23:20:00.033-05:00

Ahhh...the mysterious NYC sublet. A semi-mythical situation in which you get to leave the beast of a city that is New York without paying your landlord a year's public university tuition. Everyone seems to have a friend-of-a-friend who had a great sublet experience that summer they escaped to Europe, or for those last couple of lease mandated months that had to be paid despite their work transfer. The details on these situations are always a bit hazy, but at the end of the day, everyone seemed happy.

Of course, the horror stories that arise from a sublet - especially one from a distance - are seldom told due to their improbable likelihood in a world of semi-civilized carbon based lifeforms. Unfortunately, this world is often mixed up with the self-obsessed, do-no-wrong, accept-no-responsibilities mentality of many a Manhattanite who treat naive subletters like a two legged gazelle on a Discovery Channel documentary called "Big Ass Cats".

The below stages of a sublet are based on 100% fact and provided for the guilty joy of my friends as well as a warning to any soon-to-be ex-New Yorkers looking for greener pastures. As with many a weight loss drug or get-rich-quick scheme, these results may not be typical and your individual experience may differ.

Disclaimer: For anyone who has never paid NYC rent, feel free to insert your own numbers below to remove the sticker shock. The ones listed below are not typos, just completely absurd.

Stage 1: Desperation
That two month vacation you're always dreamed of. A job transfer. The allure of $800/month, two bedroom apartments with free parking. For whatever reason, your immediate future in NYC is about to end, but your lease isn't. The landlord will gladly take 3 months rent and your security deposit (likely $5,000 or much, much more) to allow you to break your lease, but you're grasping for an alternative.

Luckily, craiglist, that place where you buy your furniture, concert tickets and "dates" has a subletter section just for you! No need to pay a huge sum of money if you can get some other NYC optimist to pay it for you! Four blurry snapshots and a half plagiarized description later, you've managed to make your 680 square foot, one bedroom downtown sound like a cross between the Taj Mahal and a high class Hustler club - space, comfort, young ladies and happiness abound for a mere $2,850 a month!

Four minutes after posting the listing, you develop a habit of checking for new email every 47 seconds. There are 22 million people within 60 miles of you - your perfect subletter MUST be up at 5am on a Tuesday replying to newly posted craigslist ads. 20 frantic click filled minutes later, you accept that only time will get you a response and take a nap before your 7:30 wake up call.

By mid morning, the responses have started to roll in. A retiree in Arizona is looking to spend a few months in NYC. An NYU summer student knows it must be a typo and will take it on the spot if you can drop the total price to $2,500 for the full 5 months. Various odd questions roll in - What is the maximum number of people that can legally reside in the apartment? Are reptiles allowed? Will you consider free rent for someone down on their luck? If there is anyplace where it takes all kinds to make the city work, this is it.

And then you see it. The perfect couple! Just starting their life of sinful cohabitation together and your apartment looks like just the place for them. Imagine that - you're not only solving your rent problem, but also helping love blossom! If you're lucky, you might even get some solid karma out of this situation.

Stage 2: Courtship
Sure this couple sounds great on paper, but for all you know this is some kind of Nigerian email scam that will cost you thousands of dollars. You schedule a showing for that afternoon - they must be serious if they're willing to skip out of work early to take a look!

The initial few minutes after they arrive are a bit awkward - almost like those of a first date found online (Note: Don't judge me!). Everyone is looking for a common interest, and then you find it - the apartment! Why yes, it is beautiful. We love it too, but the city was just a bit too much. Yeah, the balcony and huge windows looking directly into an office building twenty feet away are amazing.

You have new best friends. You're planning dinners together, they're inviting you to come down and stay anytime you want, even better - they're semi-famous! She's a real life working actress and model who has a side business as a DJ (just for fun of course). He's a chef of some regard whose newest restaurant is booked for months to come, because really, who wouldn't want burger fondue as often as possible?

You get to hear about her amazing SoHo loft that is being renovated and his $1,000 a month in cab fare from Brooklyn. This location and time frame are perfect! The girls squeal. The men nod. All is right in the world.

Who would have thought in this hamlet known for big egos, bigger lies and rampant corruption at all levels, that you could find the only two honest, hard working subletters in the city? What are the odds?

Stage 3: The Warts Begin To Show
The days pass and everything seems to point towards a successful subletting couple. Not only do they drop off the first month's rent on time, but it's actually early! And then the warts start to show.

The security deposit check bounces. But it was obviously because of an accounting error. The second check is delayed due to more accounting errors. In lieu of a third check, cash is dropped off. Sure this is all incredibly irritating, but at least you got the money they owed, right? There is no way it will be this bad going forward. Besides, your truck is packed and you have bluer skies on the horizon.

Payments and bounced checks begin to alternate. You start to learn that PayPal payments can bounce in about a dozen different ways too. The subletters always have a story, but only some of the money. Luckily for the world though, they have big hearts and have decided to adopt a pit bull mix. Sure they get a bad wrap for biting the faces off children, but this one is really sweet. And anyway, they've already filled out the paperwork so if you say no (which you do), they're just going to have a friend act as the landlord and say yes.

The warts are ugly, but the rent still trickles in. They're a bit behind, but haven't completely broken the "Bank of You" yet. You still have small rays of Subletter hope shining down.

Stage 4 - Sodomization
The total rent due is now a month behind (nearly $3,000), yet it is only month two of the sublet. In addition, none of the security deposit has been received and you haven't heard from the subletters in 3 weeks. In short, you have become a deadbeat's prison bitch and it is quickly beginning to set in.

And then by some miracle, not only does the subletter contact you, but he gives you a payment schedule. It's not as pretty as the original, but there is hope!

Stage 5 - Even More Sodomy, Without the Post Coital Cuddling This Time
After three months of the subletters seemingly attempting to convince you of their complete lack of worth as human beings, they finally accomplished their goal. Of course, I'm joking - they could never accomplish anything as ambitious as that in their lives.

Now and then a few hundred bucks will still trickle your way along with stories of "dark periods" of their lives, but not enough to appease your thirst for the thousands of dollars owed. Being a modern day gumshoe, you'll turn to what you know - the internet. As it turns out, Google stalking isn't just for dating anymore - it can be used to dig up dirt on scum bags as well! And oh the dirt you can find!

That successful chef? Yeah, he's got a great scam with his business partners - get huge funding, open a hip new restaurant, throw a costly six figure opening party and close the doors 3-4 months later.

Restaurants with clever, hip and trendy names such as YourAsian (where they make your food your way!), Fat Hippo (mmmm...burger fondue), Yumcha (I feel satiated just saying the name), Noodle Bar ("to the point" is the new vague) and MEET (in the Meat Packing district no less - clever on several levels) all interestingly fall into this cycle. You have to give the guy some credit though - he takes being a deadbeat to a whole new level and continues to get away with it.

The piece of work (or feces) that he called his girlfriend will be an even bigger jackpot. All it takes is one simple entry of her phone number in that beautiful little Google search bar to turn up info that can only be described as making you giddy. And not just chortle and clap your hands giddy. No, giddy to the point where you will chant "whore" aloud and cackle for the following twenty minutes. Not being a selfish person, you'll share this joy with anyone you can, including readers of your blog (just be careful as this link is not safe for work in any way). And don't worry - you'll have run this past several of her friends and neighbors, all of whom confirm that there is no doubt in their minds of her identity.

In short, your subletters will not only be deadbeats, but also bring fraud and prostitution into the apartment that you once called home. Other than a loss of a few grand, it couldn't get any worse, right? Wrong.

Stage 6: Squatting!
After five long months, the lease is finally coming to an end. Since the money was slowly trickling in, you'd not made the obscenely long trip back to NYC to confront the subletters - it just wasn't worth the frustration.

Being a responsible adult, you're not about to assume the subletters would remember the end of the lease, so you decide to reminded them of such a month early. The response will be shocking - a confirmation that they will move out, perform a walk through with building management and even send you the remaining few thousand dollars. While you may have a hard time believing this, a real, honest to goodness payment of $1,200 will make you consider that they possibly had some shred of dignity left.

Of course, you'll be wrong. Not only will these glowing examples of de-evolution tell you they would be prepared to move, but they will intentionally stay past the end of the lease - or "squat". Being the lovely sacks of shit they are, you'll only find this out when you contact the building management ten days after the end of your lease. Alas, a visit to NYC will be in the works.

Stage 7: Eviction
Here's the thing about driving 5 hours from New Hampshire to New York at 4am on a Saturday when you'd rather be hiking. You'll get really pissed. Like, bat shit, pounding the steering wheel, yelling at road signs for being too green and white pissed. You'll begin drinking red bull by the four pack. You'll stop at stores to load up on multiple gallons of water, jumbo packs of processed carbohydrates and whole sides of beef jerky. In short, you'll go insane. And for once in your life, you'll be glad no one is around to see the results. In fact, if my situation is any indication, you'll soon be acting out the following two man scene several dozen times, each one ending in a laugh more maniacal than the last:

You (to subletter): "Where's my money?"
Subletter: "I don't have it."
You: "Wrong answer. Where's my money?"
Subletter: "I just told you..."
You: "WRONG ANSWER MOTHER FUCKER!" (Lunatic fake sprays mace)

Needless to say, by the time you reached Manhattan, you'll be in a fragile mental state. Vast amounts of caffeine and preservatives will be running through your veins along with the thoughts and rage that build up after 5 hours in a rented Honda Civic. With a vial of pepper spray in each hand, you'll be as close to an angry mother bear as a rational human can be.

In this state of mind, you'll be ready for a lot of things - gun wielding thugs, coked up whores, a growling pit bull, but never prepared for a bow tie clad man-boy with a transparent pale complexion and the stature of an undeveloped teenage girl. Proudly, your rage will come out in an ultra masculine roar of "GET THE FUCK OUT". Unfortunately, the response received will be about as neutralizing as it could be - a calm "Ok, I'm just packing up the remainder of your subletter's things."

Luckily, the chaotic nature of situations like this will quickly overtake any calm and sanity that may have fallen upon the apartment. The female subletter (or "handjob whore" if you will), will show up, and with her she'll bring coke head crazy of the padded-wall variety. And coked up crazy will be fun to listen to, but be sure to take notes or you'll miss gems such as:

"This apartment is a piece of shit anyway. I just use it for a closet for my hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of clothes."
"You can't evict me, we never had an agreement."
"Even if we had an agreement, you can't kick me out without letting me know."
"I'm on your side. I'll even testify in court that I'm on your side."
"I expect my security deposit back today."

As crazy continues to out crazy herself, you'll flash back to your college RA lesson #1 - never be alone in a room with crazy. Crazy cries rape when upset. Crazy ruins innocent lives. Crazy is CRAZY. You walk out in public. You call anyone you can to talk. You cover your ass.

Stage 8: The Cleanup
Crazy will quickly leave and "promise to be right back up to help with clean up." At this point she is out of your life forever and a slight tear will come to your eye. Then you'll take in your surroundings and prepare for a $100 shopping spree in the industrial cleaning aisle at the nearest Duane Reade. It isn't until you return with an army of friends that you fully comprehend the third world disgust encompassing the apartment:

Used condoms and tampons strewn across the floor
Splatters of either blood or feces across multiple apartment walls
Panties that were used many, many times without washing
Airline stubs for no less than 6 people, none of which were anywhere near the greater tri-state area
Several hundred dollars worth of Tony Robbins motivational CDs (all shockingly still sealed)

Luckily, the following 3-4 hours of cleaning will allow you to catch up with friends and neighbors and learn about more of the apartment hijinks since your departure:

Use of the bathroom sink as a turtle habitat rather than, say, a place to wash your hands
A deck piled corner to corner with dog shit since it's too much work to take a dog all the way downstairs to walk it
Multiple calls to the NYPD to remove the unwanted additional squatters from the unit
Late night gatherings that could only be described as "odd". Not loud music, multiple kegs college parties, but odd thumping and dragging for hours on end.
Reference to the apartment by multiple neighbors as "the meth lab"

In short, the portrait of their degenerate lifestyle will be rounded out. Multiple pairs of heavy duty cleaning gloves later, you'll be free of their tomfoolery forever and have learned an invaluable lesson.

Stage 9: Freedom
You'll give a few halfhearted calls and and drop a few emails asking for the remainder of your money, but know you'll never see it. Of course, the lack of subletter stress, the enjoyment of your new locale and pride in knowing that you'll never drop as low as they have in your life will allow you to quickly move on.

In short - you don't want to sublet, but you probably will. Feel free to write "I told you so" on a sheet of paper and store it away for the first time they screw you over. And always remember - cash and cashier checks never bounce - require two months rent before they even see the keys and you're guaranteed at least some small amount of money.

Trattoria Athena: A Semi-Biased Review

2010-07-12T19:51:00.033-04:00

Disclaimer: I am friends with Timothy O'Brien, one of Trattoria Athena's co-owners, making this review immediately biased. I'm also obsessively critical, routinely play the role of devil's advocate for fun and have presented the following details in the exact same way I shared with both owners. If you disagree after a visit, I'll gladly teach you how to start your own blog, make friends with restaurant owners and write essays that your parents and loved ones will act like they read so they don't have to hear about it to no end.

Overview: A-
A short 25 minutes from Portland, ME, Trattoria Athena (25 Mill St, Brunswick, ME) serves a reasonably priced mix of Italian and Greek fare. The homey atmosphere is the perfect location for a celebratory dinner or date night.

Atmosphere: A-
Trattoria Athena's dining area is large enough to hold a private conversation, yet small enough for the servers to be attentive and non-intrusive. Barn door table tops, mason jar drinking glasses and comfortably eclectic wall hangings round out an environment that channels an upscale Downeastern feel.

Appetizers: B+
If available, order the Fiori di Zucca Ripieni (lightly fried zucchini blossoms with ricotta and mozzarella - 4 for $10). The ricotta and mozzarella combination is perfectly heated - hot enough to be tender, but not so hot as to be runny. The zucchini blossom makes for an excellent departure from the typically heavy casings of cheese based appetizers.

The bread in the Greek & Italian oil service ($2.50, one Greek oil, one Italian oil) was well worth ordering the on its own. The oils were interesting and worth a try, but I won't object to the rumored plans to rotate through a variety of oils.

Wine: B+
Wine is my biggest weakness in my well honed gluttony, but the wine list is exactly what I desire in a casual, intimate eatery - with options ranging from affordable to nice, yet not obscene. The house red was unoffensive and went down smooth. While the list may occasionally change, I had choices of reds and whites from both Greece and Italy. A glass of the house was a reasonable $4.50, while a bottle of the finest was a justifiable $70.

To add to the atmosphere, wine is served in stemless glasses that tend to make a standard pour look somewhat lacking. Rest assured that this is just an interesting illusion and 2 glasses are plenty to leave most diners in a sufficiently relaxed mood.

Entrees: A
Due to repeated poor experiences, I make it a point to avoid ravioli at all costs. Luckily my date was not so picky and took a chance with one of the specials - goat stuffed ravioli. The kitchen was able to avoid the common mistake of overcooked pasta and under flavored filling hidden in a heavy sauce. Instead, the goat was flavored to be uncommon but tasty and was well complimented by a light sauce. In a land where most restaurant ravioli is comparable to a 4 year old's canned lunch, this handmade pasta is well worth a try.

The Involtino di Pollo (or Chicken "roll" as the menu helpfully guides) is a great combination of breast stuffed with a variety of flavors including feta and sundried tomatoes. The fregula (similar to orzo or couscous in shape) that it was served on was slightly under seasoned but easily fixed with a touch of salt. I would gladly order both entrees again on repeat visits.

Desserts: A+
If the entrees were a concert, the desserts would easily play the first, second and third encores due to popular demand. The dessert raviolis were perfectly fried, filled with a tasty blueberry/sauce combination and topped with more handpicked blueberries. To tie the warm dessert together, a scoop of Greek homemade mint ice cream topped the combination.

As good as the dessert raviolis were, the baklava served with an individual scoop of Greek homemade coffee ice cream was unequaled. One of the co-owners, Marc, was able to avoid the common mistakes of making the baklava too dry or serving it with honey that was too sweet. Instead they were a perfect compliment to one another. Again, the ice cream was able to bring the dish together and make for a delicious treat to end the meal.

Total Price: B
Approximately $70 before tipping the friendly and helpful server. While this isn't a nightly meal, $70 for 3 glasses of wine, 2 appetizers, 2 entrees and 2 desserts all of a quality rarely found north of Boston's North End was more than justifiable. A basic meal for two could easily cost $40 or less.

Affirmation of a Blog Name

2010-05-01T00:13:00.001-04:00

While I'd like to believe that my blog name is somewhat original, a quick search shows that multiple others of larger carriage have taken a liking to the "Fat Man Running" theme. Most of these sites focus on a plump gent documenting the journey to their "inner skinny guy" or who has "aspirations of losing weight while completing a marathon". I'd love to report that these blogs often end in great success, but I'd be lying. The Fat Man Running life is a tough one to live for more than a few ambitious months at a time.

Luckily, my Fat Man Running theme is not fly-by-night - I've been a fat runner since I became a man. This, of course, is arguable. My mother will always claim I'm too skinny (she once told me this at 255 lbs while I squeezed into 42" jeans), skilled runners may call my stride more of a waddle (I prefer an awkward gait), and my brothers love to remind me that my manhood is questionable at best.

With such misguided accusations of a healthy BMI, choppy strides and flowing effeminacy, I needed a sign that I was in fact a Fat Man Running. Something that says "this is so unique to your situation that it would bare your name if it were any less common." Something that affirms gender, body composition and activity level with one fell swoop. Something...sexy!

Instead, I got injured. With only 1/2 mile left in the Scotland Run 10k an injury struck me with such force that doctors had to give it the least intimidating name possible so as to avoid panic at its' mere utterance. Yes, I'm talking about plantar fasciitis.

Now don't let fancy Latin sounding names diminish the seriousness of this issue. Plantar fasciitis travels with it's friend - Excruciating Pain - sometimes as high as a 5 or 6 on the pain scale (roughly between a cat scratching your leg and a really bad migraine). Even worse, the main course of treatment is rest - not something that I do well when the sun is shining and races abound.

Luckily there is a golden lining in plantar fasciitis - the affirmation I was desiring (yes - this is what I worry about these days). Something to prove my manhood. My running. My truly being a big fat fatty. Scientific proof that I was a Fat Man Running in the form of common causes of plantar fasciitis:

Active men (normally 40-70, but I'll take what I can get)
Running
Obesity

Some may argue that such proof may bring at least one of my questionable traits under further scrutiny, but I'm just happy that I now have hard evidence to fall upon when discussing my moniker of choice.

Positional Oddities

2010-03-14T10:45:00.016-04:00

With Spring Training in full swing, it is safe to say that the doldrums of winter are quickly coming to an end and the world will soon be blessed with sun showers, park bench reading and glorious tank top/short shorts combinations that will render my knees useless.

This also means my transition into all things baseball is quickly underway. MLB.TV will quickly consume 3-6 hours of each night, sporting a Sox hat/iPod/phone on the subway will become a little more dangerous, and most importantly, a group of 12 man boys will argue about trivial baseball nonsense in my DC based APBA league.

Such an argument recently occurred with some interesting results. I'll not go in to details as they are incredibly inconsequential, but the end point was thus: on occasion, MLB players will be plopped in a spot that is completely unexpected. Some examples:

Position Players Often Pitch In Blow Outs: Wade Boggs was known to have a killer knuckleball and showed it off at least twice during his career. Jose Canseco actually required Tommy John surgery after pitching against the Sox in 1998. No less than five players completed this dubious feat in 2009. Needless to say, it's not uncommon but is entertaining.
Position Players Occasionally Get Plopped In A Weird Place: Albert Pujols has played in every non-battery position. Yes - even 2B and SS for a few innings due to a short bench. Three Nights in August also tells a great story of Pujols playing the outfield with a strict rule to never throw the ball due to an elbow injury. This is not a Pujols only category though. Every now and again Sox fans will see Youk roaming the outfield or Buchholz running around like a fool. Again, these aren't totally uncommon, but can lead to a good chuckle.

Pitchers Sometimes Wander Off The Mound: This is where the reading gets interesting and trivial meets trivia. Did you realize that Pedro once played third base? Or that Randy Johnson roamed around left field for a few pitches? Or better yet - you can actually rotate players between the mound and other positions? This article gives some great stories on pitchers playing in positions and situations. Well worth the read if you have 15 spare minutes.

Every Now and Then, The Rules Fly Out The Window: A 1946 Polo Grounds game has become famous for many generations of fans. While the entertainment value is there, the rules were completely disregarded, paving the way for debates over spitballs, sign stealing and steroid use. A full breakdown of the multiple infractions can be found in this lengthy, but very entertaining read.

Needless to say, these examples won't quell the minutiae driven arguments found in any semi-competitive, dice fueled league, but they are great fun to read about and have stored in the back of your head for future trivia.

A Place to Raise Your Spirits

2010-01-22T11:51:00.007-05:00

A great man (namely, MiaManda's pretty awesome father) once told me:

"When you have money, it finds a way to disappear, but when you need it the most, it has a way of showing up."

Being that I can't help but over-think most topics, I've slowly been building a list of things that seem to ebb and flow at just the right times - money, tummy fat, sex, sanity, and a handful of life's other little pleasures and mysteries. The reasoning can be debated, but the fact can't - life is full of ups and downs beyond anyone's control.

So it was with great glee that I encountered possibly my 20 most entertaining minutes in NYC to date. A combination of "little things" so completely enjoyable and random that even this grinch smiled despite being on the tail end of way too many consecutive days of mundane work, bad take out, contempt for electronics and a generally Negative Nancy-esque attitude towards the technology industry.

Such a tale would be better off shown in the style of a Goodfella's bar stroll, alas my funds, acting inabilities and constant mumbling preclude that from my list of options. Instead, we'll have to go to the good ole' bullet point format that tends to pop up on this blog so often. So imagine, if you will, a grumpy me dressed in my finest hoodie, jeans, 3 year old sneakers and Sox cap strolling out of a generic NYC apartment building feeling like Bill Gates himself just gave me an 8-bit bitch slap of epic proportions:

A random dude on the street sees the hat. I brace for a "Youk sucks" or "Wish you had A-Rod, don't cha?" or even a simple "27 baby!" Instead I'm pleasantly surprised with a "43 more days 'til spring training then it's on!" A man after my own heart - he reminds me that the early evenings and frigid temperatures will soon part as mits pop, tobacco gets chewed and girls feel comfortable in tank tops and short shorts. A fleeting grin passes my mug as there appears to be hope for a happier future.
By the time the temporary enjoyment of such random camaraderie wears off, I'm standing on a subway platform. Luckily a purty l'il thang has decided I'm the least threatening homeless looking dude riding the 4-5 at that point in time and saddles up next to me to wait for a ride. Two things become very apparent within moments of her entering the corner of my eye:

Somewhere under her mini skirt this lovely lady has a wedgie of epic proportions. Between the squirming and shifting, my approximation would be that her lower intestine is being harassed by unwelcome satin.
Her parents stopped at being happy that she isn't working a pole. Apparently discretion, patience and being a lady were not taught in her home.

Thinking that the night could get no more random, fate decided to throw one more piece of unexpected excitement my way - through the words of Robert Frost. A poem of such simplicity and thoughtfulness that anyone who has walked through a snowy forest after a long day must instantly have their spirits raised:

"The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued."
-Dust of Snow

And with those three tiny, random events, an evening of whining and whimpering was turned into a 3 hour grin-fest. The moral of the story is thus:

Guys - Randomly (and nicely) talk a stranger each day.
Girls - Randomly flash guys. Even better - strike up a conversation with them.
Geniuses - Write good stuff that can't be fully appreciated until it lands on a Jeopardy advertisement.

New Year's Eve in NYC: A Better Alternative

2010-01-02T09:27:00.006-05:00

Anyone that has spoken to me for more than 12 seconds on the topic of NYC gets an instant dose of passionate (and often unprompted) opinions. First, it is the most amazing place in the world. Second, the taxes are horrible. Third, nestled in the middle of this wonderland is a place of such vulgarity, gaudiness and pinballesque existence that I've devised a list of tortuous activities I'd prefer over a jaunt to the capital of giant M&Ms and unoriginal show tunes.

Naturally, I was less than excited about potentially spending 9 hours on New Year's Eve adjacent to strangers sporting urine bags, ridiculous scarves and Nivea hats just to see 32,235 LED lights drop concurrently. So I was quite delighted to be informed by MiaManda about a healthier, more original and surprisingly entertaining event a mere 25 blocks north of Times Square - the Emerald Nuts Midnight Run.

To say this fun run was the perfect way for a lard-ridden man to start the new year would be an understatement. Among the many benefits are:

Fireworks in Lieu of a Starting Gun - The display began directly over the starting line and lasted for much of the first mile. Even a bitter old man such as myself had to feel a little giddy.
A Manageable Distance - 4 miles is a great distance. Long enough to get a decent workout, but short enough that even the moderately in shape can run it.
Great Costumes - The Tetris blocks won the costume competition this year, but the full squad of TMNT, the Snuggie patrol and multiple 80s-themed sorority girls gave them a run for the money.
On Lookers - The streets of Central Park were lined with supporters blaring music, giving high fives and providing plenty of encouragement. I'm not sure who let the old dogs out, but they turned the fun run into a FUN RUN!
Pure Hotness - This one may get me in trouble with the girl, but it is worth mentioning. There were multiple naughty Mrs. Claus costumes, runner chicks in spandex and one can only assume numerous unmentionable thoughts running through other participants' heads. For those more impressed by testosterone, shirtless, moob-less men abound.

Unfortunately, my normal team of trainers, photographers, groupies and handlers decided that activities such as drinking and working were preferable to standing in a dark, cold, snowy Central Park to catch a glimpse of me waddling for 15-20 seconds, so decent pictures are currently non-existent. But please take my word on this one - if you ever plan on spending New Year's Eve in NYC, skip the ball dropping and take a 40 minute jaunt around the park.

Happy Holidays From Central Maine

2009-12-27T16:20:00.002-05:00

I'm often asked, "Chadwik66, how does a discerning individual such as yourself spend the winter holidays?" The common assumptions usually include some combination of fine art, heated fireside chats about postmodernism, decades old scotch and caroling in authentic 18th century garb. While such activities would not be unlike me, I usually prefer to let my hair down around the holidays and really let loose.

First, every holiday season should be spent with family. After all, if it weren't for them, none of us would have to a legit reason to drink away a week of torment on New Year's Eve. I spent most of Christmas day with my brothers this year.

Second, everyone should fully enjoy any gifts they receive. I was fortunate to receive some great L.L. Bean duds this year as well as a sweet Big Game Hunter game for Wii. Needless to say, the combination of a corduroy blazer (with leather elbow patches!), a scarf and a Wii gun can really bring out a man's inner beast.

Third, everyone should enjoy the local celebrations and decorations. The Freeport L. L. Bean Flagship store has a great tree, as does the South Street Seaport in NYC. Both also have frequent carolers, concerts and events during the holiday season.

Finally, I truly enjoy having a drink or two and "going wild". For the 2009 holidays, this involved an accidental visit to NYC's #1 Gay Club, entering a "Stud Search" and walking away with $200 in cold hard cash. While I'm not about to make this an annual thing, I would recommend everyone partake in such events once in their lives for a good laugh (and great story!)
I thoroughly enjoyed the Christmas season this year. I hope everyone else enjoyed Christmas, Hanukkah, Festivus, Kwanzaa or whatever consumer driven holidays you celebrate this time of year!

A Gratuitous Plug

2009-12-03T17:17:00.017-05:00

I'll keep this one short and sweet. My good buddy Tim is a cook. Not just a cook, but a chef - and a damn good one at that. He actually rolls his own pasta by hand, knows where to find fresh zucchini buds and goat's milk at a moment's notice and prepared a full meal for his own 150 person wedding.

Being that I love to eat, drink and be merry, I dive head first into his mounds of delicious Italian goodness whenever I get a chance. Luckily for the good folks of Southern Maine, Tim and his wonderful wife have started Ancora Pasta:

"A family-run business that prides itself on producing fresh, dried, and frozen artisanal pasta the way it has been for centuries: by hand."

If you have a chance, stop by il pettine ed il ferretto or one of the many farmer's markets they attend and treat yourself to some of the best pasta this side of Italy.

Cool by Proxy

2009-11-30T21:50:00.007-05:00

Until recently, my biggest claims to fame have been:

Shooting around in college with future NBA and NFL players
Having a cousin who is married to the sister of the chick from Happy Gilmore
Riding the bench on a championship high school basketball team (shockingly enough, the internet did not capture this proud moment from over a decade ago)

Needless to say, my brushes with fame are few and far between. Until now. With much pride I can now claim being directly involved in back-to-back dinners that featured the epitome and antithesis of total awesomeness. Unfortunately, I play the antithesis to Lance-freakin'-Armstrong's epitome in this little ditty.

The story goes like this: A good buddy of mine from UNC (Go Heels!) happens to be a damn good cellist. After graduation he spent several years with Big Blue before giving up the glorious life of tech consulting for the world of rock cello. He bounced around for a few years before The Avett Brothers decided to gobble up his skills and throw him on the tour bus. Ultimately, it was the best move he ever made as they are now getting critical acclaim, bookings on Letterman and invites to Lance Armstrong's house for dinner.

You read that right - dinner at Lance Armstrong's house. Gnarly, I know.

Unfortunately for Mr. Joe, the Texas stay was short lived as the band had to get to NYC for a Jimmy Fallon taping. Don't you hate when that happens?

Needless to say, once he arrived we met up for some great Korean food and a stroll to Bryant Park for people watching. We had a blast, but there is no doubt in my mind that everyone at the dinner table was pondering how one person can go from Lance Armstrong to me (or any Holmes for that matter) in just 24 short hours. I dare ye to identify a faster fall from grace.

If nothing else, I can now claim just 2 degrees of separation from the greatest athlete of our time and an immediate upgrade in coolness by way of an old college buddy's success.

Now for some good ole' fashion North Carolina folk-rock:

An Introvert's Guide To NYC

2009-11-08T19:30:00.003-05:00

After several visits by family and friends to the new habitat, I've realized that coming to NYC without a minimal amount of planning can be disastrous. It is as easy to be in bed by 8pm wondering why anyone would want to live in this hellhole as it is to be out until 2am laughing at (or with) dainty men wearing nothing more than daisy dukes and a bit of blush.

In order to help future visitors plan a great time that falls somewhere between "bitter old man" and "exploring cardinal curiosities", I present the following list of activities for consideration.

For The Glutton In You...

Stage Door (33rd & 8th)
Want a great breakfast with generous portions at a decent price anytime of day? If you're anywhere near Penn Station, the Stage Door is your place. The desserts and sandwiches are great too.
Added bonus: Their website appears to be straight out of 1995!

Pho 32 & Shabu (2 West 32nd St - Near the corner of 32nd & 5th)
Believe it or not, fine Asian dining is not limited to strip malls in Central Maine. Explore the delicious world of Pho (think chicken noodle soup with a tastier twist) while those with less exotic tastes grab a Vermicelli Bowl.

Max Brenner (Broadway between 13th & 14th - Just south of Union Square)
A restaurant dedicated entirely to chocolate: Chocolate Pizzas. Chocolate Fondue. Spicy Chocolate Fajitas. A word of caution - the lines are long for a reason. Aim for a mid-afternoon snack to cut down on the wait (but not the weight).

To Lighten Those Purse Strings...

5th Ave/Madison Ave (5th/Madison Aves between 49th and 59th)
What better way to remember that your $100 credit card limit can buy little more than a tissue in some parts of the world? A walk down 5th and Madison Aves is shiny, trendy and entertaining but makes you wonder who has that kind of money. Spend 30 minutes window shopping and jotting down the designs you like then head to...

Chinatown (Canal St)
Want one of those ugly brown Louis Vuitton bags for less than $600? Maybe a $12 cashmere scarf? Canal Street in Chinatown is the place to go. Don't be afraid to haggle as discounts can be gotten with minimal effort.
A word to the wise: Avoid electronics and stick to clothing/accessories.

To Increase Your Courage...

Heartland Brewery (Times Square, Union Square, South St Seaport and Various Other Locations)
Want a way to guarantee a blubbery runner stumbles out of your establishment once a week? Deliver a delicious pumpkin brew (2nd only to Shipyard) for several months a year. Want to ensure his patronage for the other 9 months each year? Offer concoctions combining home brewed beers with hard cider or lemonade and a variety of tasty appetizers. Well worth visiting any of their 6 Manhattan locations.

Luxor Lounge (118 Macdougal St - Near 6th & Bleecker)
At first sight, hookah is more than a little suspect. It comes in a water pipe, surrounds you in smoke and relaxes you nearly immediately. With a little investigation, you soon realize the lack of tobacco and fruity smells are as enticing as they are legal. Add cute, friendly bartenders and a likely audience with the world's friendliest Canadian and you have the beginnings of an enjoyable evening.
Caution: Luxor Cafe is only a few doors down. Equally as entertaining, but a much smaller bar.

Duplex (61 Christopher St - Near Christopher & 7th)
The pianist plays in a lingerie and blush (at least on Halloween). The bartenders belt out show tunes between rounds and all walks of life are welcome. Booze + Pianos + Show Tunes = Instant fun. If you're a homophobe, 20 minutes here will change your mind (don't worry, it's not contagious).

To Get All Intellectual And What-Not...

The Moth (Various Locations)
I must admit - I have yet to actually go to a live Moth show. I am a loyal listener to the weekly podcasts though and imagine the audience to be the quintessential image of an NPR party. For some great stories and good laughs on the smarter end of the scale, a Moth show is the place to go.

The Strand (Broadway between 12th & 13th - Just south of Union Square)
The Strand boasts over 18 miles of books, many at greatly discounted prices. One can literally wander around, mouth agape, for hours before even knowing where to start in the place non-naughty librarians dream about at night.
Interesting note: I am starting a rumor that this is where intellectuals can go to find dates. Please feel free to spread this rumor so one of my good friend's has a chance to procreate.

For Some Relatively Smog Free Air

Central Park (North of 59th between 5th & 8th)
Central park is an oasis in the hustle and bustle of city life. It is entirely possible to go for a jog without hearing a horn honk or an f-bomb dropped. It is rumored that carriage rides are quite nice, as are the dozen of miles of running trails and dedicated walk/bike lanes around the park.
Jogger's Note: A full lap around the outermost park trails is almost exactly 10k. A great runner's guide of the park is available here.

Brooklyn/Manhattan Bridge Loop (Financial District/Chinatown/Brooklyn)
One of the great benefits of living in the Financial District is the proximity to both bike paths and bridges to run. The Brooklyn and Manhattan bridge loop combines both of those for a safe, fun, awe-inspiring 5 mile jog.

The High Line (Various West Side Locations Between 10th & 11th)
The High Line is a set of old elevated freight rails running over the west side of the city that has been turned into a park for enjoyment of the greater good. The odd feeling of standing in grass while cars zip by 15 feet below takes a few seconds to get used to.
Interesting Tidbit: The Standard Hotel is perched alongside the High Line around 13th St. It is rumored that this is the place where exhibitionists go to see and be seen.

Finally, To Indulge Your Inner Tourist...

South Street Seaport (Less than 1/2 mile from the Brooklyn Bridge)
The South Street Seaport is the ultimate tourist trap. The restaurants are incredibly safe and average. The shops are overpriced but appealing. The sights (Bodies) are priced just right and worth the visit. Overall, it is well worth the visit.
Fun Fact: I live 3 minutes from the Seaport. If you are down this way, drop me a line and we'll meet up.

Rockefeller Center (49th & Rockefeller Plaza)
If you live for SNL and Thursday night comedies on NBC like I do, Rockefeller Center is your ultimate people watching spot. In the past year I've had two brushes with fame here - I was interviewed by a Japanese news station and also saw Tina Fey taping 30 Rock. The former was just plain awkward and the latter will allow me to die happy.
Quiet Time: At night Rockefeller Center is very lit up but not very active. This makes it an ideal reading spot on a warm evening.

The Intrepid (46th & 12th)
The Intrepid Sea, Air & Space Museum includes a retired battleship, submarine and concorde that you can freely walk around at your own pace. The battleship deck has a varied collection of helicopters, spy planes and fighter jets on display and provides one place in this world where it's somewhat acceptable for a 30 year old to make chopper and machine gun sounds.
Cheapskate Hint: The Intrepid is free with a Bank of America credit card during the first weekend of each month.

Of course, what would a post like this be without a google maps inclusion? All hail the geniuses in Mountain View...

View An Introvert's Map of NYC in a larger map

Added Bonus: One Place to Avoid At All Costs...

Times Square
Anyone that has been in NYC for more than 2 minutes realizes that Times Square is the worst place on earth. It is overpriced, crawling with idiot tourists and the sole reason that people believe NYC is a horrible place. The only acceptable reason for visiting Times Square is due to a wrong turn out of a theater. If for some reason you must enter this den of misery, avoid entering any store fronts - the M&M store might look cool, but you will become a human pinball within seconds of entering.

An Bitter Old Man Turns 30

2009-10-30T16:59:00.001-04:00

As anyone who met me in college knows, I tend to split my time between one of two maturity levels: age 10 and age 90. For some reason, my mental progression often avoids the norm and instead bounces around like a 20 sided Dungeons & Dragons die. I have proven this multiple times in life (much to my chagrin some days):

I programmed through the night of my 21st birthday - not weird for a CS major until you realize the assignment was due 10 days later.
For my 13th birthday I didn't ask for a bike or a video game. No, I asked for a footlocker. Luckily there is video evidence of a fat, young Chad celebrating such an outstanding gift in no more than tighty whities and a grin.
I married at 23. Enough said.

The list can go on and on, but I'm not here to bore you. Instead, I've decided to join the clan of several million other middle class, nearly middle age white kids who don't have enough to bitch about. I'm going to rebel by using my MacBook in an open air cafe (actually, airport food court, but I still look equally as artsy/edgy/douchy), hop on a free Wi-Fi connection (take that, The Man), throw together some semi-coherent thoughts in text that is amicable to the eye (Blogspot gets all the credit for that one) and blow your mind.

That's right, I'm going to write a list of "Why Life Sucks At 30"!

<You may now roll your eyes>

Reason 1 - Recovery is Difficult
It seems like only yesterday I was able to go for a 5 mile run at a killer pace as a warm up for a 90 minute soccer game. This was a routine occurrence for nearly two years of my life. Now I take days just to recover from a quick hour long jog and am still sore for days after. This goes for other areas of life as well, but we need not discuss my drinking and night time habits here.

Reason 2 - Things Shift
I weigh less now than I did in High School. Or college. Or pretty much any other time in my life when I wasn't training for a half marathon. Oddly though, I somehow have gained moobs and a tummy that is getting disturbingly close to my belt buckle. Even odder, my waist size has gone down, but my shirt size is going up. Truly a Cathy moment.

Reason 3 - Everyone Else is Settling Down
Everyone I know seems to be settling down and becoming adults. Houses are being bought, nuptials planned and exercised, children bred and berthed. Meanwhile I'm rebelling against any possible stability by selling a house, moving to a new city and dating a wonderful young lady that barely falls in my age range. Throw in a Corvette and a receding hair line, and I believe you have the definition of a very early mid-life crisis.

Reason 4 - I Just Don't Care
I remember being a spry, young, ambitious 24 year old who was going to change the world. Sure there were hoops in the government software cycles, but I could jump through them and help make them better! The ozone layer - I can help fix it! That bum peeing in a cup and drinking it - here's a buck for food! These days I'm older, theoretically wiser, and very much in a "to each his own" type of mood. It's possible that someone could punch me in the face and I'd just shrug and laugh it off.

Reason 5 - Plan A is Gone, As are Plans B, C, D, E and F
I think there are only about three dozen people who have ever succeeded with plan A and most of them are in some kind of professional sports hall of fame. If someone told me 10 years ago (yes, I was in college 10 years ago) that I'd be one level above bait on the corporate food chain I would have laughed in their face. I'd have laughed them out of the room if they told me I'd be single, renting and living in New York City as well. It turns out that plan G is a lot more fun than any of those others, mostly because I have no idea what is coming next.

So there you have my list of why it sucks to turns 30. Being that I'm in a pessimistic mood, I'll not mention the great parts like getting able to eat a pint of ice cream whenever you like or the little joys like still getting ID'd to buy booze.

Oh, and one more little joy. I get to type this before any commenters do: waaaahhhhhhhh....

Brussels - A Pretty Fun Place After All

2009-10-28T14:30:00.003-04:00

After four very unimpressive days in Brussels, I had to take a step back and figure out what I was missing. I'd heard lots of good things. Everyone seems to have enjoyed their previous time here. Where could I have gone wrong?

And then it hit me: I didn't have a plan. I had been randomly walking the streets of Brussels with no aim - no sights I wanted to see, no food I wanted to eat, no fountains I wanted to bathe in. So after a long night's sleep on Saturday, I sat down over a grilled pita lunch and devised a plan. These days, my opinion of Brussels is much better - here are my church-less, museum-less highlights:

Artwork Without Stuffy Fake Art Lovers - Sick of standing next to the dumbass with a money pouch sticking out of his pants studying the Mona Lisa for 20 minutes just in case 200 million other eyes have missed something? Me too. That's why I stick to sculpture parks like Place du Petit Sablon and Warandepark (aka Parc de Bruxelles). The sculptures are amazing, the crowds don't dare walk nearly a mile from the tour busses and the Parc metro stop is very close.

Peeing Statues - Sure Manneken Pis is famous, but he has an equally entertaining sister (Jeanneke Pis) and pet dog (Zinneke Pis) scattered throughout the city. Depending on the number of pints consumed, Jeanneke Pis is sure to make you giggle for five to fifty minutes.

A Idyllic Grand Plaza - When I go into a Grand Plaza/Main Street area, there are a few things I want: A lack of greasy vendors, great buildings, cobblestone, an impressive town hall and somewhere to drink. Luckily, the Grand Plaza has it all. I will even give a rare non-sports museum shout out to Musee de la Ville de Bruxelles for its' great Manneken Pis costume wing.

Celebrating Because, Well, They Want To - It seems that every corner in the touristy areas of Brussels are celebrating something. Firefighters, Halloween, peeing statues. Who can't love a city that constantly is looking for a reason to drink?

Gastronomic Diversity - While Belgium has the rights to breakfast, dessert and dinner time drinks, there aren't a whole lot of easily identifiable foods with real nutritional value. Luckily every other culture in the world is ready to hop in and help. A one week stay included visits to Irish, Indian, Chinese, Greek, Thai and Italian restaurants. There were seemingly a million more to chose from.
The Best Gay Club Name Ever - A real, live lesbian once told me that I'm extremely un-butch. As I gently placed my tea cup down and contemplated slapping her with an open hand, I realized it's true. The benefit of this? I can accidentally stumble into any town's gay district without the fear of being ravaged by those savages beasts. While the assless chaps are usually enough to make me crack up, passing L'Homo Erectus with a disco ball twirling and belly shirts for as far as the eye can see made me giggle like a school girl.
Sales Rooms Disguised as Museums - What's more breathtaking than a dozen classic Mercedes? The €435,000 base price for the McLaren Roadster on display. And don't forget the additional 21% sales tax that brings the total price to nearly €530,000 (about $750,000 to you and me!)
Awesome Buildings - I've had my share of museums and castles for a few lifetimes, but I still love the old town halls and townhouses. Luckily Brussels had plenty on display!

Entertaining Street Musicians - I heard a great rendition of "Tears in Heaven" on acoustic guitar. Unfortunately for the Clapton wanna be, the accordion extraordinaire playing "Rich Girl" was the winner of my daily street performer Euro.

Indy Store Fronts - Fancy vinyl - either to wear or listen to? Maybe some 30 year old toys? A life size cut out of R2D2 and C3PO? Look hard enough and you'll find whatever (and I mean whatever) your heart desires in one of Brussels' shops.

Amazing Public Transportation - The trains are frequent, smooth and fast. Each station gives an indicator of how many trains are running, where they are and how long you have to wait. For the lesser served areas, electric above ground trains and diesel buses will take you quickly and cheaply. There is never a need for a rental car since long haul trains seem to run to every major European city from the Central Station every hour.

And as I stated in an earlier post, it was going to take a "massive beer garden with killer sausages, live sports on big screen tvs and girls of Oktoberfest proportions to elevate my opinion" of Brussels. While I didn't find exactly what I was looking for, I did find...

Fat Guys Sportsbar & Grill - I walked in to find the Pats game projected on one wall, nearly a dozen LCDs carrying a variety of other football, baseball and soccer games, an owner with a Sox tattoo on one arm and a great group of Mainers/Massholes to drink with. Four hours and several (maybe many) pints of Jupiler later, I was stumbling home with an ear to ear grin and take out chicken fingers that held my attention more than the whistling prostitutes ever could.

So, with my old man grumpiness pushed aside, I will gladly upgrade my status of Brussels from "Eh, it's worth seeing for an afternoon" to "Plan the Night Before, Arrive in the Morning, Walk (or Ride) Around All Day, Get Drunk That Night and Head to Paris/London/Amsterdam After Lunch the Next Day".

A Note on Self Deprecation

2009-10-24T16:00:00.002-04:00

Recently a co-worker who never had the pleasure of working with me approached me with a concern. He wanted to point out that I'm very self deprecating and wasn't sure if I knew it. To this, I could only respond, "No shit Sherlock. Even I could have figured this one out."

So for all of you who don't know me well enough to get my "style", here is a little run down:

I am awesome - in all senses of the word. I am probably one of the cockiest people you have ever met, and have many reasons to be, but really hate when people come across as cocky. For that reason, I had tried to tone down my feelings of superiority over pretty much everyone in the past, but usually still ended up sounding like a complete jerk.

Being that I rather enjoy letting people into my awesome little world, I decided to take a different approach several years ago. Instead of being a cocky prick in public (I still often am around friends and family), I decided to take a different approach - self deprecation.

Self deprecation is easy. Simply ignore everything that makes you great (which with me are myriad) and blow the little flaws out of proportion. For example, if you have a failed one night stand, don't hide in shame. Instead, shout it for the world to enjoy. Hell, even embellish upon it a bit. Just make sure you look like the dumbass at all times when retelling the story.

Maybe you are great at what you do, but make a mistake every now and then. Why rub your greatness in a co-worker's face? Instead, just point out that you like to slack off on occasion. Or maybe mention that you don't work the long hours they do. Of course, you need to conveniently leave out that you can accomplish in 6 hours what takes them two days, because why make enemies?

My point is this - I have a style. It works for me. If you think I'm a sad person, ask people that know me much better. If it still bothers you, I'll be happy to break out the cocky ass that lives deep inside me. I promise you'll be asking for the self deprecating guy back very quickly.

Belgium - A First Impression

2009-10-24T13:00:00.001-04:00

One of the benefits of being a socially awkward (but lovable) tech geek is the opportunity to travel to far away lands. While the majority of my traveling in the past has been to locations that would rank very low on the awesomeness scale - Montgomery, AL and Mechanicsburg, PA spring to mind - cities of much higher caliber will occasionally sneak into the mix. Gems like San Francisco and New York are thrown my way with a frequency that earns my current employer just enough goodwill to guarantee I will be one of their cash cows for at least a few more months, but infrequently enough to keep me from whining about the abundance of plane and train seats I must squeeze in to.

So, after far too many months in Merrimack, NH, it was with much joy that I was informed of my next assignment location - Brussels, Belgium! Better yet, the assignment required an odd Wednesday to Wednesday schedule, meaning I would have to be tortured by a European weekend on my company’s dime.

Being the dedicated, subservient employee I am, I forewent obvious questions like “Don’t we have a European office just for situations like this?” and “Don’t you realize a two hour train ride is cheaper than a transatlantic flight?”, assumed there was some advanced staffing logic beyond my grasp and quickly booked a direct flight to the capital of the European Union. (Yup, that was news to me too).

After a few days of work, exploring the city at night and avoiding my sleeper sofa in any way possible, I came to the following conclusion - Brussels is to Europe as Nashua, NH is to the United States. A great place to raise a family and live, but not the most exciting spot to visit. What better way to demonstrate this than through factors upon which all civilized cultures should be judged: Food, Bathrooms and Ladies.

The Food: There are three things that I think of when Belgium is mentioned: waffles, chocolate and beer (in that order). While this sounds like a simple night of gastronomic indulgence for a normal person, it excites formerly fat children the world over into outbreaks of week long buffet sweats. I must say, my preconceived notions did not disappoint.; Unsurprisingly, the beer was delicious and exactly what I expected. While Stella is readily available in the States, I had yet to experience the deliciousness of Jupiler. Hoegaarden comes in a close 3rd, but only because I’m not into Belgian wheats all that much.; The waffles are crisp but chewy - glazed with any combination of chocolate, powder, honey and fruit based preserves that one's cholesterol clogged arteries may desire. Your hands are sticky and stomach heavy for hours after eating them, but it only takes seconds after the digestive cycle is complete before you are contemplating another trip to the waffle stand. There’s a reason I’m fat, deal with it.; In no way did I think anything could live up to the quality of the waffles or beer, but alas, I was wrong. I’ll explain the chocolate with this little tale from a Saturday afternoon stroll:; I entered a chocolate shop just for a treat - 4 pieces of chocolate (2 dark walnut, 2 dark caramel) at a cost of 6 Euros, or about $7.50. Now, the number of motivations that override my cheapness is comparable only with the number of ladies I’ve made lucky in my life, but of those, gluttony easily takes the cake. The chocolate was gone in a matter of minutes and I quickly found myself dropping another 5 Euros on several more pieces. I’m proud to say that every piece of my 58% cocoa-based lunch was one of the best I've ever consumed, even with the $1.50/piece price tag added in.; Much to my surprise, this is the limit of Belgian food (other than French Fries) that I would consider edible in any way. Based on the list of native dishes (including black pudding, horse steak and tongue set in gelatine) in my Lonely Planet guide book, I forewent the search for a Belgian restaurant and stuck with Irish, Chinese and Indian. While they may still make me sick, at least I'll know exactly why.

The Bathrooms: Take every preconception you've ever had about European bathrooms and throw them out the window. Despite having watched European Vacation to no end, only once have I had to share a bathroom while traveling in Europe. For the most part, they've been completely private, perfectly clean and up to the standards of someone hailing from rural Maine (I figure the Europeans should get the benefit of the doubt on this one).; The bathrooms in Belgium have actually been quite pleasant. They often have very stylish fixtures, great color schemes and lots of tile and mirrors. It's like walking around nude in an Ikea showroom without the threat of security chasing you out.

Now the bad part: I'm an American. A large one at that. Even without my soft outer shell, I tend to have a very wide stance. Like certain politicians, I prefer bathrooms where sitting on the toilet doesn't require my knees to touch the stall door, or each other for that matter. No one should ever bump their head on a door when standing up after sitting on a toilet to cry. Nor at any time during the number 2 process should one have to tuck body parts in a way that results in a "mangina" because the side walls are too close. It's just not natural, and actually a little disturbing.

So to all European landlords out there - keep up the good work! Keep the water hot and the style cool, but please widen those stalls by 6 inches on all sides.

The Ladies: Remember that dude from college that went to Europe for a summer and came back bragging about how hot Italian women are? Or Spanish women. Or Swiss. Or Polish. Or even the German ladies in their own "I want to be emasculated when I make love" kind of way. Think real hard. Did that kid ever mention a Belgian woman?

Let me help you with the answer - NO! There is a reason Belgium is known for beer, waffles and chocolate - because the women are incredibly average. Not fugly, just not anything worth looking twice (or even once) at. Not to get too self deprecating (riiiiggghhhttt....), but Belgium is to hot women as I am to attractiveness, grooming, personal appearance, common sense, casual conversation, athletic ability, bedroom adventures and anything else not involving a keyboard. (For the record, my bedroom adventures involving keyboards fall more into my tech strengths than love weaknesses.)

It kind of baffles me. I have walked everywhere possible - malls, tourist areas, universities, even the red light district in Antwerp (seriously), and not once have I been wowed by a woman. Hell, the whole red light district only had two women I'd even consider allowing to see me nude in real life, and never would I pay them for that honor.

The girls aren't hideous, they are just consistently fours, fives and sixes. There are too many buck teeth, overly plump behinds, crossed eyes and missing limbs on each one to put them in a category even approaching hot. Belgium is the place where women should send their fiancees for bachelor parties - I promise you that the guys will come back thankful for finding a hottie to take him after being totally immersed in such averageness.

While I'm hoping my opinion of Belgium, and Brussels in particular, change over the next few days, my hopes are not high. It is going to take a massive beer garden with killer sausages, live sports on big screen tvs and girls of Oktoberfest proportions to elevate my opinion above "Eh, it's worth seeing for an afternoon".

The Greatest Game Ever Played

2009-10-11T10:56:00.000-04:00

The recent move to New York has marked many changes in my life - most notably the official status update to "living in sin" (which has been pointed out by at least 2 of Mia Manda's relatives - one of which told her to "be careful" so as not to get "sent away").

Such sharing of space requires patience and consideration, both of which I greatly lack:

Wall hangings must be agreed upon
Furniture must be laid out in mutually agreeable locations
DVR recordings must be scheduled so as not to accidentally delete shows slandering men while reassuring women that fat asses are too be cherished, not pointed and laughed at.

For the most part, major arguments have been avoided. The girl has great taste, I have none. Our TV shows don't overlap. We enjoy each others' wall hangings. So far, so good.

Through all this harmony and bliss, one major point of contention has emerged. An issue of such magnitude that I am willing to fight to the death before bowing in defeat. An issue that can not only ruin evenings, but friendships, relationships, and possibly even legacies.

An issue that is second only to life and death: How prominently to display Catch Phrase.

For those who may not be familiar, Catch Phrase is a simple game played between two teams. A little plastic disc displays a phrase that needs to be guessed by your teammates without giving the actual phrase as a clue. Overall, it's a pretty simple concept, although phrases like "Gryffindor House", "Shroud of Turin" and "Muslin" (not "Muslim") can prove to be problematic.Fortunately, I'm a world class Catch Phrase player with skills rivaled only by my brothers, and quite honestly, no one else. Many a night have been spent giving clues like "Remember that time..." or "4th place AL East team's AAA affiliate" and hearing the answer echoed in milliseconds. Add to this the fact that many of our competitors give clues like "Uhhhhh...", "Ummmm...", "Come on, you know..." and "Shiiiittt...", and I dare say we would make the best 3 person Catch Phrase team to ever roam the earth. Needless to say, it is all good fun.

Naturally, any game that brings such joy to a household should be prominently displayed - upon a mantle, atop a bookshelf or even encompassed in an air tight case to ensure a lack of tampering with the circuits and integrity of the game.

For some reason, the girl vehemently disagrees.

Apparently, having been crushed by one too many Holmes-rich teams has altered her mental state. Despite my continued attempts to perch the beautifully polished blue and white plastic upon the entertainment center or the dining room table, it is continuously found in easily missed locations. Some may even call them hidden.

While I can only hope that this is a conspiracy between the girl, Hasbro and other Catch Phrasers who feel threatened by my dominance, the thought occurs that she may be the sole driver behind such horrendous suppression. With that being said, if there is a sudden facebook relationship status update with no witty message, feel free to assume that "Emasculate" popped up on Catch Phrase, leading to voices being raised, plastic being smashed and my saying something stupid.

If instead, I disappear and Mia Manda sheds real tears, please conduct a full investigation of the Hasbro word games division.

A Summer in Limericks

2009-10-08T20:00:00.002-04:00

"Oh where, oh where have you been?

You dude with the double stuffed chin.

Last time you did write,

I thought I just might

Cry for you and your corpulent kin."

"Well, the summer vacation was great

Despite the new excess weight

From the Cabot factory store

Plus a Ben & Jerry's tour

During a weekend-long Vermont date

Next was the Hall of Fame,

To see the best who have played the game.

Both Rickey and Rice

Delivered quite nice,

But Pete Rose was old, fat and lame.

Let's not forget Carrie and Tim

And her poor judgement in choosing him.

The rain was unplanned,

But Greystone Manor was grand

To prove they are more than a whim."

"But what of this move to New York?

You socially awkward dork.

With a great deal of fear,

The last I did hear,

Is you partied with Jay-Z and Bjork!"

"To believe that you'd have to be dim,

For I'm not rich, smart or slim.

But my college friend Joe,

Was on the Letterman show

Which must be more fun than IBM*

And for my birthday I did get to see

Accompanied by a symphony

My man crush Ben Folds

Whose voice is like gold

And nearly makes me go pee.

So I will, with all of my might

Try much, much harder to write

On a regular basis

About far away places

Or maybe just more nonsensical shite"

*Give me a break - it almost rhymes

Fat Child Eating

2009-07-12T15:47:00.010-04:00

Not to alarm any of the Fat Man Running fans, but I have a revelation to make - I was a fat child. I know, it's shocking. Don't kick yourself for not realizing it earlier - it's easy to miss my self deprecating "humor" brought about by being a 230 lb 14 year old, as well as my current ability to chase a half marathon with a gallon and a half of ice cream. There are a handful of little clues, but you may have missed them if you're blind, have never spoken to me for more than 17 seconds or live in the state of denial that some of my relatives call "motherhood".
Luckily, my childhood is rife with stories of husky sweatpants, little league jerseys that must be mounted over a La-Z-Boy (aka - the "Shirt Stretcher") before they fit, or being thought to be of Asian descent due to excessive forehead fat hanging over your eyelids.

A perfect example of the joys of childhood obesity is the following gem that recently popped up to the delight of MiaManda:

It's 1992. Slick Willie is getting ready to enter the White House, the MLB Player's Union has yet to strike, and a waddling pile of blubber is breaking hearts and taking names while getting straight-As at Skowhegan Area Middle School. The day after receiving his perfect marks, Mrs. F, the social studies teacher, approaches yours truly about his report card.

Mrs. F: "Congrats on the great grades Chad! Did you get a reward from your parents?"
Chad (emitting a distinct smell of onions and obesity): "Yup! I got the best gift a growing boy could ever ask for!"
Mrs. F: "Really? Did your parents give you money? Take you to the movies? Maybe even take you to Walmart without putting you in the harness?"
Chad (glowing with memories of the previous night): "Nope. Even better! We went to Subway and they let me get 2 foot long meatball subs!!!"
Mrs. F: Stunned Silence
Chad: "That's right. Maybe the best gift I have ever had. I scarfed them down in about 2 minutes flat and even had some room left over for extra chips!"

Now, I'm not sure if Mrs. F contemplated calling child services, slapping the smirk off my face, or just crying for humanity, but I can only now understand her shocked silence that spoke volumes.

Weird Al Yankovic - Fat
Uploaded by GuyanaMike.

San Fran: After The Parade

2009-07-02T08:00:00.003-04:00

As much fun as I had at the Pride parade, there is only so much over-the-top flamboyance I can tolerate before needing some down time. So in order to get away from grown men running around in spandex, slapping each other on the asses and swearing at every possible chance, I headed to Oakland Coliseum for some good, old-fashioned, heterosexual baseball.

It's often easy to forget that most stadiums don't require dropping $50 with a scalper for the cheap seats. While Fenway is great a couple times a season, it can quickly send you to the poor house. Luckily, Billy Beane has put a team together that rarely draws more than 25,000 fans. While the players must hate it, tourists like myself love the $48 seats that are less than 5 feet from the dugout, first base foul area and photographers.

I also had the added bonus of being able to see one of the more entertaining traditions of organized sports - hazing of the rookies. While I wasn't able to see anyone's face painted with permanent markers or an atomic wedgie, watching Matt Daley head to the bullpen wearing a pink backpack was entertaining enough for me.

To end the day, I followed the lead of nearly every other lard-ass of a tourist by gorging myself on sweets, burgers and entertainment. This town is definitely worth many more return appearances.

San Francisco is FAB-U-LOUS

2009-06-29T17:02:00.049-04:00

In what is quickly becoming a periodic pilgrimage to escape the drudgery of every day life, I made my annual journey to the mean streets of the Bay Area for some sun, fun and baseball. Unlike past visits, I wasn't content with the tame combination of Charlie's Taqueria, a drive through Silicon Valley and some poorly played baseball. No, this escape had to be, shall we say, interesting.

With that requirement in mind, it was with great joy that I was able to bum a room from the ever hospitable duo of Dwight and Carol, grab a free plane ticket thanks to frequent flier miles and find a cheap rental car during San Fran's busiest weekend of the year. No, there were no wine festival, or a bunch of techies trekking to Cupertino. Instead, it was Pride weekend, and what a weekend it was.

(Now that you've clicked on the above link, please use this time to utter an oft used expression correctly for maybe the first time ever - "That is so gay...")

While I could ramble on about topless lesbians on Harleys that easily outweighed myself, small Asian men dressed as cupid, or people with breasts and an underwear bulge, I will just let the pictures do the talking...

One other note - It's great to know that even in this "difficult economic climate", there are still jobs to be had.

Turning Lemons Into Lemonade

2009-06-15T20:12:00.000-04:00

Like many others that a court of law would consider sane (or at least competent to stand trial), I'm not a big fan of arguments. Unfortunately, any time you spend copious amounts of time with someone that is fun, nice and lets you see them naked, they occasionally arise. Now I'm not one to make light of a serious situation, but every now and then a comedic gem rolls off the tongue of MiaManda that really should be shared with the world.

While I'm 99% sure this is going to get me in some deep crap, I've enjoyed it too much not to share with my loyal stalkers. So without further ado, I present:

The List of Stuff Perceived To Be More Important Than My Girlfriend

My job (not really)
My car (it is pretty awesome)
Golf with my family (depends on the course and which family members)
My house (um, no)
And last, but certainly not least...my gas grill (still on the fence about this one)

While she got the list pretty accurate, she neglected to mention the Red Sox, a visit to the Harp at least once a season and hummus. All in all, she knows her place pretty well though.

Fat Men Running

2009-05-13T19:19:00.007-04:00

A great record has fallen. One that lasted nearly 2 years, was targeted by many (at least 3), but untouchable by all.

That's right, the Holmes family half marathon record has been surpassed. And not only did it fall, but it hit the ground like an Irishman trying to jump a fence on March 17th. So to my younger brother, congrats on a 1:44 showing (just under 8 min/mile) at the Fredericton Half Marathon. An 8 minute pace is impressive in any race, never mind one of such a distance.

In a congratulatory gesture, here is a photo of you skipping over the finish line like the little girl you are:

Hats off to Janine as well, who dominated the 10k in under 58 minutes. We can all agree that her finishing picture is much more masculine than the "man" with whom she lives in sin:

Of course, this blog would be nothing without a little self promotion, so here is a joyous me after a 1:56 (9min/mile) finish. Not bad for a fat man.

And finally, big props to MiaManda. Over 20 hours in a car with my family over 3 days and not one person was slapped, kicked or stabbed. This was possibly the greatest endurance feat of the weekend. I offer you this picture with the hottest man in the world as your award.

My Special Skill - Making Any Situation Awkward

2009-04-20T21:59:00.003-04:00

I'll keep this short and sweet. I went for a great 7 mile run in Mine Falls Park on Sunday - and absolutely great spot for a sunny afternoon jog. While rocking out to semi-obscure Ben Folds songs (specifically "Rent-A-Cop"), I decided to screech along.

Luckily, at the very instance I was being passed by an unseen dude on a mountain bike, I puffed out one of the best lyrics ever written:

"Hey baby, baby light that ass on fire".

Yeah, he rode a little faster after he heard that.

Shorty Got Low

2009-04-11T16:59:00.002-04:00

As anyone who has witnessed one of my outings at Harp knows, I have some pretty unique dance moves. My rug cutting skills are somewhere between football player and epileptic, so any demos of what I should be doing are greatly appreciated.

So it was with great joy that I came across this video on Barstool Sports the other day. This kid is just brilliant.

So to this child's parents - my hat is off to you. You might want to buy a little penicillin for when he gets older.

Is Nothing Sacred?

2009-04-01T15:06:00.003-04:00

I'm as much of a fan of a good April Fool's gag as the next gent, but there are some things that should not be touched. At the top of my list: Unwanted Pregnancy.

So I was less than amused when the current girl sent this little bundle of humor my way:

While I've been assured it is just a joke, Mia Manda better watch herself. Such jokes will lead to me balled up in a corner, mumbling "no, god, why me?" while weeping and rocking for hours on end.

And to the good folks at someecards - well done!

I Like Sportz

2009-03-26T19:26:00.004-04:00

In honor of the second best time of year (only behind October baseball) I submit a video that reflects my feelings on sports while also accurately depicting my complete inability to master any activity requiring more effort than tapping a keyboard.

Courtesy of the geniuses at The Lonely Island

Pre-FAT-taine Runs Again

2009-03-17T18:52:00.007-04:00

In what has seemingly become an annual rite of passage, my lovable prick of a brother has decided to update my nickname for all the world to enjoy.

It wasn't enough that on the day I was born my parents blessed me with a name that would soon draw thoughts of sweaters draped over polo shirts while a girlfriend named Muffy or Miffy or Belle watches me play croquet.

Nor was it enough when a middle school friend dubbed me with a nickname, which delicious in sandwiches is not so palatable on the ears ("Cheddar!"). And who can forget the mockery of my alter ego Chaz - the Guitar Hero aficionado of facebook fame.

Apparently those have all gone stale. The roar of "Chaaaazzzzyyyyy" on Christmas morning just wouldn't work for another year. And while a poster of Chady Buckets currently hangs on my living room wall for all to see, that too has apparently gone to the birds.

Instead, my family has decided to revert back to my love (hate?) of running while mocking a long deceased great. It is now guaranteed that at the end of every race, I'll hear the same respone - "How'd you do Pre-FAT-taine?" When I come home with a soaked shirt after a quick 10k there is no doubt in my mind I'll hear "Set any land speed records Pre-FAT-taine?" And soon enough, as I'm slipping on my beloved New Balances, I'm sure to hear "I thought you were a Nike man back in the day, Pre-FAT-taine".

So with that in mind, I give you a picture of the great Pre-FAT-taine:

Me in the Hynes 5 miler - (41:06 and no, it wasn't as cold as it may appear)

And please remember, if you were to ever forget any one of my nicknames, there is an easy way to hear them all. Slip on some Phil Vassar, load a truck with drunken Holmes and Fredrick boys (except for the driver of course), and drive for an hour. It is a 100% guarantee that the subject of every song, whether man, woman, child or beast, will be replaced with cries of "Cheddar", "Chazzy" and "Chady Buckets".

Great Friends Are Hard to Find...

2009-02-18T17:49:00.005-05:00

I have recently discovered that there is a risk you take when discussing certain topics with friends. Whether those topics are financial, personal, or just random, things can always take a turn for the worst.

Today the topic of gym trainers came up, and I shared a link with a dear friend of mine. Unfortunately the website that link went to contained an email address for one of my gym's trainers, to which the following email was nearly sent:

Hello <Trainer's Name>,

I have a friend who belongs to your gym and he is in desperate need of physical help. As he is approaching 30, I can't help but feel an emotion of sadness when I gaze upon his body. I have copied Chad in hopes you will confront him at the gym and potentially inspire him to pursue physical activity as you have in your life. I thank you in advance for helping chad become a healthier and better man.

Best wishes

Of course, words were not enough. The following picture was also to be attached to the email:

Now, this dear friend claims that the email was never sent, but I'm completely expecting to be confronted at the gym in the next several days. Here's to hoping for future work outs that are free of awkwardness.

Thievin' from the Fam

2009-01-26T12:05:00.002-05:00

Much to my surprise, my dear old mother today let the whole family know that there is another blogger amongst us. It turns out that my cousin Liz has a Yahoo TV blog where she obsesses over the Biggest Loser like I obsess over, well, anything that is on my mind.

As it has become my habit of late to blatently rip off other works of genius and post them on this very blog with less than witty comments, I see no need to exclude family. So please do be enjoying Mr. Liz' workout with trainer Bob.

Are The Biggest Loser Workouts tough? @ Yahoo! Video

And if you're looking for the full article, just click on this little link:
http://tv.yahoo.com/blog/my-own-biggest-loser-moment--85

Damn it feels good...

2009-01-22T09:44:00.002-05:00

Most of my family and friends have no idea what I do for work. It's been widely speculated by family members that I either:

Work with a covert government agency
Fix computers at Best Buy

Unfortunately, my life just isn't as exciting as carrying a gun or wearing the much desired blue polo with khakis. Instead, I'm a consultant. I could go into details, but this video pretty much has it covered:

Please note - the bankers in that video are the douches that helped get us in this housing bust/credit crunch/insolvent banking situation. We, the consultants, are the good guys.

Props to Donner for sending along the link.

Holmes out.

Thank you Freddie Mac, but you've done enough

2009-01-19T09:05:00.002-05:00

So the last thing I want to do on this blog is get political or start talking about money. I mean, that's about as exciting as seeing me bend over to pick up a towel in the locker room, although not as disturbing.

That being said, I did want to write a bit about the clusterf*@k that is our economy, specifically the housing situation. I'll not get into details, but I figure I should get this little blurb out:

Freddie Mac - STOP ENCOURAGING PEOPLE TO MISS MORTGAGE PAYMENTS!

Now, they may not come right out and say it, but denying a potential refinancer with the feedback being "if the mortgagor becomes delinquent, they should reapply" sends a pretty clear message - commit fraud and we'll help you. Apparently being irresponsible in lending up to this point has not taught them a lesson, so why not keep doing it. Needless to say, some crack downs are needed at the highest levels, as well as some jail time.

And with that I'll step off my soap box. I'll try for a little more entertainment value next time...

-Chad

DOOK SUCKS

2009-01-10T18:44:00.004-05:00

Being that last weekend was the beginning of the ACC basketball season, I thought it was prudent to remind everyone of a universal fact:

DOOK SUCKS!

I could go on a 2 page diatribe comparing dookies to three dollar prostitutes with STDs and less than 4 limbs, but it's not worth my effort. Instead, enjoy this classic video (Careful - not safe for work!):

Credit to Peter Rosenberg - one of the worst radio hosts I've ever heard, but creator of one good video.

My Resolutions

2008-11-15T21:06:00.020-05:00

Ok, I know I've been out of the loop for a while, but that's what happens when you're traveling to DC to see friends run marathons (great job Tim H!), grinning through weddings (congrats Karla and Ryan), winning dodgeball titles (go Innies and Outies!) and celebrating the holidays (in one case until a certain fiancee of my mother's started Christmas morning filling the toilet bowl from the wrong end).

Anyway, I have been inspired by several Men's Journal articles to create a 12 step resolution plan that should guarantee me some fun, exercise and reason for me to get out of the house. Here we go...

Play 18 (poorly) at Sugarloaf

Climb Mt. Washington

Mt. Monadnock

Pass out in Montreal

Climb Katahdin

Acadia on Bike

Drive the Kancamagus (during the day)

Hike the Appalachian Trail

Ben & Jerry's Factory Tour

Kayak Winnipesaukee

Play in the Bethel Snow - With Snowshoes

Cooperstown, Yet Again

Run the Beach to Beacon

So there you have my list. If you're interested in coming along for one (or more) trips, just drop me a line. I'll be sure to update the blog with pictures, stories and poison ivy related updates as the year goes on.

Happy Holidays!

-Chad

My New Whip (Know What I'm Sayin?)*

2008-11-13T20:56:00.009-05:00

If you've spoken with me, read my blog or been in the same area code as me in the last 15 months, you are well aware that I've been on the hunt for a new car. Not that the Saab was a bad ride, but a man with my power (uh?), wealth ("at least $10 million" according to Yogan) and great social standing (several people from Southern NH know I exist) requires an auto of the highest quality.

Being that I am somewhat cheap and tend to over analyze everything I do (you don't want to know what goes through my head after a first date), picking a car, dealership, salesman, trim, add-ons, and financing plan was a huge undertaking. Among my requirements were the following:

A car I can beat up - The Saab is dinged beyond belief. The new car must be able to handle my man-child clumsiness.
Something that can haul a decent amount of cargo - It has to fit golf clubs, a bike, skis and several drunken 1998 Maine Class A basketball championship team members. All at once.
An auxillary input jack - I MUST be able to listen to my iPod without changing the radio station every 10 minutes.
AWD/4WD - Believe it or not, NH and ME get nasty in the winter, especially at Sunday River. It must get me there and back no problem.
A sun roof - I'm a diva. No reason other than the fact I like them.
A decent sleeping area - Between my XC journey and a couple nights in Boston, I realized the importance of a comfortable area to rest my eyes for several hours.
Decent gas mileage - At least 20mpg combined
Something as sexy as its' owner - This is self explanatory and goes without saying.

With those requirements in mind I started researching. And test driving. And doing more research. Then calling dealerships. Then interviewing salesmen (seriously). Then even more research. When all was said and done, there were a handful of small SUVs pushed to the way side:

Jeep Patriot and Compass (horrible drive, kinda for chicks who like chicks)
Toyota RAV4/Honda CR-V (every one I asked said "Oh, my mom loves hers")
Subaru Forrester/Outback (too expensive, again for chicks who like chicks)
Ford Escape/Explorer (didn't like the drive that much)
Another Saab (Saab + GM = $40,000 worth of garbage)

In the end, all signs pointed to the Honda Element. It carries cargo well. It has a nice ride. There is a sunroof in the back for some reason. The seats actually turn into a bed. And the kicker - you can spray the inside down when it gets covered in unidentifiable liquid/solid combinations.

So without further adieu, my new Element:

If you're in the Southern NH area and are looking to buy an Element (or any other Honda), let me know. The good folks at Peter's Honda never once made me feel uncomfortable, never tried any funny business, and gave me a great deal. Big thanks to Matt and the rest of the team there.

*Yet another TPB reference. Please watch with a native Skowheganite if you haven't already.

Google Analytics - Take 2

2008-11-03T20:49:00.007-05:00

In an attempt to amuse those that know most of my stories before I post them, I decided I should come up with a brand new post whose details have yet to leak to my numerous fan forums or be scribbled on bathroom stall walls. Seeing as how I'm not skilled in fictional literature and my Q&A pool has dried up, I've decided to go to one of the hidden gems I've discovered through this blog - Google Analytics.

As you may recall from previous posts, there are a few pieces of info collected by Google Analytics that I find interesting such as visits per day (around 8 - thanks a lot for the support you bums) and referring sites (yet another shout out to the McGarrys for the traffic they send my way). The two pieces of info I find of utmost interest are where people are viewing from, and what they are searching for that leads them to me.

So a little rundown of where people are stalking me from:

Manchester, NH: 34 visits in the last month. Between MiaManda and the dodgeball teammates, I'm getting a few hits.
Sterling, VA: A distant second at 17 as co-workers and friends stalk me, my facial hair and that beaver like hair do I was carrying around.
NYC: Ummm, no idea who has tracked me down 9 times. If you find my blog more interesting than all of NYC around you, please let me know. I'm honored and sad for you at the same time.

From there it dwindles down to a few visits from locations that can be easily attributed to family members, random acquaintances, and those that kinda want to know what I'm up to but can't stand the thought of listening to a rambling 45 minute soliloquy over a crappy cell phone connection.

Oddly enough, I'm starting to get some international fans as I've had hits from Canada, England, Germany and Romania. Glad I can further perpetuate the horrible American image for them.

And now, without further ado, everyone's favorite subject...search terms that have lead to Fat Man Running...

"Badlands Running" - Not too bad. Kinda glad I can be associated with that search.
"Dangers of iliteracy" [sic] - Ummm...I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the irony.
"Fat waddle" - I'm a little offended, but I can understand the connection.
"Fat man running photo" - Really?
"Fatman in lycra" - Come on now.
"Fat guy humping diaper" - Just why?
And the best - "Old big fat man to man massage in london" - Seriously, who is f'ing with me? This isn't funny.

I will leave you with those deeply disturbing thoughts of fat men in various stages of undress, physical activity and lubrication. God help us all...

Halloween '08

2008-11-02T22:04:00.008-05:00

Just a quick update on Halloween: The Maine crew is in to the Trailer Park Boys as much now as ever. In homage to this genius of a show we decided to imitate them to the best of our abilities:

Maybe not 100% accurate, but pretty damn close. We missed out on J-Roc who had to cancel at the last second, but were lucky enough to have MiaManda there as Sarah, Melissa as some kind of prostitute, and Danielle as a more mature (and freakishly realistically pregnant looking) Ellen Page to make the night plenty of fun.

Always remember: A dope trailer is no place for a kitty.

Finally Growing a Pair

2008-10-31T17:00:00.001-04:00

As some of you may know, I'm a bit weak when it comes to standing up for myself. In what I consider a very unfunny joke, I believe my parents sat down soon after my birth and decided that they should produce two humanesque creatures who they would breed with the sole purpose of using me as a verbal and physical sparring partner. Luckily, I'm fairly jovial when it comes to such activities and am able to take most of it in good fun.

Over the last several years I've come to realize that while such activities are entertaining among family members (the blood type, not those you are legally bound to until the NH judicial system grants you that sweet, sweet taste of freedom), it is not so good when dealing with most other people. In fact, a certain cell phone company (which rhymes with 'Mint') recently decided to extend my service plan for over a year without my consent. Normally, you are at their mercy and have no recourse other than days spent screaming on the phone at low paid customer service reps, so I was not optimistic about my original end date being hononred.

Luckily I found this equivalents to this particular carrier's thermal exhaust port - the Better Business Bureau and the FCC. It turns out that both companies act as watchdogs over the cell phone industry and don't take kindly to activities which pry on individual consumers. Less than 24 hours after fililng complaints with both organizations, not only was my original contract honored, but an apology was provided and all blame was accepted by the carrier at hand.

So the long and short of it is, honor your end of the contract and you have people in your corner to help ensure the big bad cell phone companies honor theirs.

Up next: Off to Portland for Halloween to act as an idiot savant who loves kitties and lives in random structures with great degrees of mobility...

Big Birthday Thanks!

2008-10-20T20:56:00.005-04:00

I figured I should give a shout out to everyone that helped with my kick ass birthday weekend. It was by far the best since the infamous 13 year old ball of rotundness that was me did a seated shirtless dance on video resulting in still jiggling moobs

So for everyone that texted, left facebook messages, sent emails or gave phone calls - Thanks!

Special thanks to Hayes, Brett and MiaManda for plying me with five dollar pitchers, a perfect view of the mechanical bull, and by far the best homemade cake ever. This 43,521 calorie creation of pure pumpkin spice and peanut butter deliciousness may never be topped (or leave my colon).

Deliciousness by MiaManda

Don't Stop Believing

2008-10-17T00:19:00.007-04:00

The MLB post season is amazing. Money and egos go out the window and everything comes down to who plays better, harder, smarter and makes fewer mistakes.

Unfortunately, with the MLB post season comes the many irritants that seem to repeat themselves year after year after year. Here are the things that have begun to chap my arse this post season:

Baseball Tonight without Harold Reynolds: I know, I know. He was allegedly slapping asses and grabbing the ladies down in Bristol and deserved to be fired. But really, Gammons, Kruk, Kurkjian and Ravich have tried to fill the hole he left with no luck. I'd wish that we were back in the 60s so such actions could be swept under the carpet, but the same ignorance that allowed sexual harassment would have also kept him off tv.
Unenthusiastic Players: I've never held back my great displeasure with J.D. Drew. He is lazy, always hurt, slammed by La Russa and is as charismatic as my refrigerator. Just moments ago he hit a walk off single to top off a come back from 7 down. He sounded about as enthusiastic as I will on the morning of my first colonoscopy. Unfortunately it seems that Jay Bay is following in his footsteps when it comes to showing any emotion whatsoever.
Tim McCarver/Joe Buck: Could there be a more awful game calling duo out there? Joe Buck has two things going for him: his dad's legacy and his voice. His condescending attitude is apparent within 2 minutes of the first pitch and his inability to criticize any umpires, managers or MLB executives is reaching legendary proportions. God forbid a ball bounces three times and is called a strike - he might actually have to acknowledge an ump's mistake!

The NFL has realized that Buck is a dud and have attempted to make it right by pairing him with Troy Aikman. Unfortunately MLB has done just the opposite and teamed him with Tim McCarver, who makes Joe Morgan look like a master orator. McCarver seems to make a game of each broadcast where he throws a bunch of baseball phrases in a hat and just pulls from it at random times. Paying him to speak makes as much sense as paying me to walk around shirtless.
A Lack of Remy/Orsillo Giggle Fits: There is nothing better than coming home on a Tuesday night, turning the Sox on, and listening to Rem-Dog and Don giggle like school girls on Valentine's Day. These attacks usually last an inning or two and make no sense, but are too funny to get irritated by.

Other than that, this has been a pretty good post season so far. It'd be great to see Amalie Benjamin and Rem-Dog get the nationwide airtime that Orsillo has, but I'm sure that will come in time.

A picture is worth...

2008-10-12T22:49:00.004-04:00

A quick run down of life recently - I'll keep it short:

The hair is long. As is the beard. Some may say Uni-bomber-esque.
My fantasy football team (Chady's Buckets) is kicking some ass. I think it is because of the team uniforms.
The girl has yet to wisen up, so she's still around.
And life of late is resembling the former phrase of my blog title rather than the latter.

Luckily, this has all been captured in one glorious photo:
Ta ta for now...

-Chad

The Dangers of Literacy

2008-09-17T06:00:00.002-04:00

As most of my loyal readers know, any discussions of my past romantic relationships (serious or otherwise) tend to be brief and elicit sympathetic words of encouragement and awkward pats on the back. There is no need to get too detailed, but if you were keeping count, you'd have yet to reach the second hand (and if you are starting to keep count, please start with your longest finger).

For some reason, most of the ladies involved in these joint ventures have been strong-willed to the point that even Ruth Bader Ginsburg would take a look at them and say "Damn girl, lighten up a bit. Give that man a break." Fortunately, the current girl is much more on the feminine side and does all those great girly things like being nice and smelling good that you would expect from someone you're dating*.

Unfortunately, with more feminine lady friends there also come thoughts, actions and reading material that are completely foreign to me. The latest addition to this list was a little magazine called Cosmopolitan.

At first glance, the mag seems to be completely harmless. The colors are bright, the font is big and the girls pretty. Unfortunately, there is a nasty secret hidden in the glossy, strawberry scented pages. After immersing herself for what may have been hours, I expected MiaManda to come out with comments like "Ooooh, now I can make you even better pies!", or "You were right, I should question you less and follow your requests blindly."

Instead, I was hit by a barage of questions that even my naivety flagged as dangerous if answered. Gents, if at any time you are asked any of the following, I suggest faking a seizure. If you're dating a health care professional, hit your head on the desk until a real one occurs:

What do you think of this lingerie (pointing to a hot, scantily clad 83 pound model wearing a shoelace and cotton ball)?
Do you think (insert anything here) would help our romantic life?
Isn't she cute (pointing to any other female over 16 years old)?
Want to hear what is on the list of the 423 things happy couples do that we don't?
Want to take this quiz with me?

You may laugh, but when the articles carry the titles of "Him and His Friends: How to Properly Insert the Wedge", "That Bitch! How to Get Back at Your Best Friend" and "Testicles: How to Properly Remove, Mount, and Place Over the Mantel", you have to realize the odds are stacked against you.

I'm sure this is a great magazine, but fellas, if you have it laying around your house, make this the time to become a pyromaniac. The court costs might be through the roof, but you'll never have to take the "How much does he really love you?" test.

*For the record, she can be a be-atch if necessary. I once watched her nearly slap the shit out of some douche that had 70 pounds on her. I also got a disapproving look when I strode in front of a fan pointing in her direction, braced myself and sent a Holmes fueled symphony of flatuance her way. But I digress...

Like Woah and OMFG

2008-09-04T06:00:00.001-04:00

Despite what some may think, I don't squeal like a school girl on Valentine's day very often. Sure, I may perk up when Carolina signs another All American or I solve a problem on Project Euler, but rarely does an audible screech escape from my lips.

This was not the case early last evening. An event of such great historical importance, epic proportions and unpredictability was announced that had anyone dared dream of it, they would have been engulfed in a straight jacket and whisked away to a state run rehabilitation facility in a matter of seconds.

No, Bill O'Reilly has not admitted that his show is done in jest. Nor has Fox "News" fessed up to being little more than entertainment for the feeble minded. And god no, I'm not getting married (again).

In fact, it was announced that MySpace is going to broadcast the first Ben Folds Five reunion in nearly a decade from their old stomping grounds (and mine) - Chapel Hill. If you've never been engulfed in giddiness, elation, and euphoria all at once, you should try it. It's like having a million little fingers massage your whole body while nude angels frolic in a baby oil pool for which you are the life guard.

Add this great news to the fact that fall is quickly descending upon us, Pumpkin Spice Lattes are back at Starbucks, I have two great Fantasy Football teams and MiaManda is surprising me with an early birthday present this week and the last couple of days have been quite fun despite the best efforts of life's little PITAs.

A couple one liners for ya:

If your water heater has a 6 year warranty, be assured that it will explode at 6 years and 2 months.
Golf is addicting. Even more so if you're awful.
If anyone needs to get in touch with Satan herself, let me know. I have that pain in the ass' contact info.
I propose that the AL MVP vote is fixed so as to allow Pedroia and Youkilis to split it.
The mop top has gone about 4 months without so much as a trim. Don't worry, I'm still stunningly handsome.
The poison ivy is finally gone. Please do enjoy my documentation of it's disgustingness.

Finally, a little teaser to get you to check back in a few days. There will soon be photo evidence of pussy-whipped-ness to a degree which has never been seen before. Not to spoil the surprise, but it involves fantasy football, co-managers and official team uniforms...

My Man Crush: Ben Folds

2008-08-30T06:00:00.005-04:00

In case you didn't know, Ben Folds' newest album - Way To Normal - hits shelves exactly one month from today. This is likely to be the musical highlight of my year. The singles I've heard are eccentric, upbeat, honest and obscene - everything I've come to expect from Mr. Folds. Add to that a duet with Regina Spektor, leaked tracks (both real and fake) by the man himself, a YouTube contest for covers of his songs and a stop motion video written about a tumble in Japan, and this appears to be another entry in my line of worn out Folds related CDs.

So for those of you who have yet to become obsessed with the oft-wed pianist (4 and counting!) and those of you who have an obsession to his music as equally unhealthy as my own, here are 10 Ben Folds related videos for your listening (and viewing) pleasure:

Best Song (In My Opinion) - Underground

Best Use of Keytar - Rockin' The Suburbs

Best Nonsensical Title - One Angry Dwarf And 200 Solemn Faces

Best Sing Along - Army

Best Cover by Ben - Careless Whisper (w/Rufus Wainwright)

Best Cover of Ben - The Last Polka

Piano - Mike Stein
Drums - Justin Bulava
Vocals (grey) - Lauren Fairweather
Vocals (yellow) - Nina Jankowicz

Most Depressing Lyrics - Brick

Best (and only) Sports Song - Boxing

Best Song That Makes You Say REALLY? - Bitches Ain't Shit (NSFW) (Dr. Dre Cover)

(Fast forward to the 2 minute mark - it's worth it)

Best Song About Dating Your Daughter's Friend - Karaoke Supernova/Hiro's Song

The 40 Hour Day

2008-08-29T06:00:00.001-04:00

Every now and then I have a week at work where I can just step back on Friday afternoon and say "Damn, I got a ton done." Don't get me wrong, this doesn't happen very often, but when it does I'm always taken aback.

Of course, I never really tried 40 consecutive hours of activity - until last weekend. Since my nude modeling career has yet to take off, work is still a necessity, and unfortunately it bungled up my personal plans once again. While some of the fun stuff got thrown out the window (the only nipples I saw that weekend were my own), I did have quite the day (or two):

Wake up in the Philly suburbs. Wash vigorously.
Complete a REALLY cool work assignment. No small governments were overthrown.
Drive through beautiful downtown Philadelphia. I'm still awaiting the results of the TB test.
Spend an hour in a fiberglass tube which zooms you to Boston at 350mph.
Have a delicious Quiznos dinner in Southern New Hampshire
Drive 9 hours to a foreign land while listening to tales of contemplated military service, hitting the lowest of lows and barroom brawls. Luckily I'm naive and think they are just catchy songs that help the time go by.
Shoot random elk, moose and deer at 3 am while releasing primal screams that would make Howard Dean swell with pride.
Aid in the hydration of bushes on the edge of Niagara Falls
Ingest multiple grams of caffeine in the form of three venti hazelnut soy lattes, six red bulls, three gas station coffees and one diet coke. I know, I know, diet soda is bad for me.
Listen to Toronto area news stations discuss how the Blue Jays will do in the playoffs. Despite being 12 games back. In late August. And sucking. Really.
Watch Jon Lester throw a couple innings of batting practice to the Jays.
Mmmmm...steak and crab legs
Cirque du Soleil with my mom and her fiancee. If I'm doing this at 40 and still single, feel free to openly question my sexuality.
Ten Layer Cake at Gretzkey's
Finally, the sweet embrace of unconsciousness...

Overall, not a bad time. Toronto is a great city, the Sox turned it around the next day, and our hotel was amazing. I wouldn't recommend going more than a day without sleep, but if you have to, this is a pretty kick ass way to spend it.

Fun in Horsham

2008-08-22T06:00:00.001-04:00

Despite my best efforts, I've been unable to avoid the blogosphere for more than a couple weeks. Add to the fact that my many fans (many can be defined as more than 2, right?) have asked, nay, DEMANDED more posts, and everyone's favorite blogger is right back on track. How about we do this one Q&A style...

Dwight (of Dwight and Carol) writes: "I'm an old man and my days have been devoid of joy since you've stopped posting. Please, share some of your day-to-day exploits and help me make it to my 73rd year."

Well Dwight, what can I say. I just finished a 28 day road trip which I chased with an immediate jump back into the world of software security. Now, don't be jealous, it's not as glamorous as it seems - it's all hack this and break that, but not a whole lot more. Other than that, I've been filling my time with various pursuits of love, miracle cures, continued travels and the ever continuing research of my next auto to replace the trusty Saab.

"Wait", you may say. "Love? Miracle cures? More travels! NOT THE SAAB! Screw the Q&A - go into more details."

I'm not one to deprive my fans, so let's go at this one list style...

Pursuits Of Love?

Alright, lets not get ahead of ourselves on this one. Love is a wee bit strong, but I was somehow able to metaphorically club a lovely lady over the head and drag her home. My escape from the gorilla like clutches of singledom are no doubt due to a combination of my boyish good looks, awkward yet amusing mumblings, eloquent nature of speaking, and of course, this very blog.

Add to the fact that this is yet another 22 year old (I keep getting older, but they stay the same age!), and life isn't all that bad. At this point, I'm obliged to make three statements:

Sorry mom - I swear I was trying for an older one.
Sorry Mia Manda. Not sure for what yet, but I figure I should just throw it out there.
Sorry to everyone else - No naked photos to share. Yet.

I'll save the tales of romantic exploits for future posts, direct-to-VHS videos and family gatherings. Feel free to wonder aloud how I pulled this one off (and how far away she'll move once she comes to her senses...)

Ok, even a blind dog finds a bone sometimes. But what is this talk of miracle cures?

Upon returning to my humble abode (please note the irritated sarcasm on this one), I found my front door covered in monstrous weeds. Unfortunately, I decided that I should get my annual dose of manual labor in and started pulling like a three year old in need of a potty.

Now, in life, there are certain things that select groups of people can usually identify. Fat people always know when a golden corral is nearby. Pervs can usually find an adult superstore in less than 3 minutes on a Saturday evening. Frat boys can find a passed out sorority girl in mere seconds, and techies can find a Micro Center in a micro second (I know, lame). Unfortunately, I know of at least one person who should know what Poison Ivy looks like, but after 28 summers has yet to learn.

I'll not go into the details of puss drenched paper towels, hotel rooms covered in peeling skin, visits to urgent care and steroids that will not make me buff, but do want to share a couple little secrets. There are two products on the market that help remove urushiol from skin and speed the healing. They are called Tecnu Extreme and Zanfel. While they weren't a miracle cure for me, they did stop the oozing a few days early - just in time for me to visit Horsham and Toronto...

Toronto! Horsham? Do tell...

In the glamorous life of consulting, there are many travel opportunities. "Wow!" most people think "I'd love to travel!" Hey, so would I - to New York, Chicago, London, Paris - hell I'd even settle for Norway in the summer.

Unfortunately, I've spent months of my life in Montgomery, AL, Mechanicsburg, PA, Columbus, OH and now Horsham, PA. I shouldn't complain, but there is only such much to love about a Candlewood Suites with an over-amorous neighbor (the room is only home to one person - I asked), a recliner with a 3 inch hole to prove that, yes, they are in fact stuffed with real cotton, and remnants of the last 12 guests who showered in (and around) my bathroom.

Luckily, my stay in Horsham was extended by a day, therefore shortening my weekend visit to Toronto to see the Sox play. Now, my boss was cool about it, and my travel mates didn't seem to mind too much, but having to choose sitting in Horsham writing a blog over an extra night of Canadian stripper boobies in my face was not an easy decision. I guess I'll at least save a buck or two this way and hopefully make a few of you laugh.

And finally, the Saab...

It's a great car. The turbo is new, the seats comfortable, and the gas mileage great. But as another New England winter slowly creeps up on us and my disposable income taps on my shoulder, I've begun my search for a replacement. I really have no idea which way I want to go with this, so feel free to throw out a suggestion or two. Just remember that All Wheel Drive or Four Wheel Drive are required, I am cheap, and I'd prefer something that conveys my elevated level of masculinity.

And that is how I spend my life when I'm not driving around the country. I'll try to liven it up a bit, but can't make too many promises.

Until next time...

Days 25-26: What A Long Strange Trip It's Been*

2008-08-11T06:00:00.002-04:00

After a couple victorious nights in Kansas City, I realized that I was ready for a return trip home. I was very tired. My car was somehow still running. I wanted to get dressed without having to lay on an air mattress. I'd not passed out, gotten arrested or broken international treaties at any point. Every memory was fond and most of the pictures great. Sure, I'd miss visiting a handful of friends in the greater DC area (big thanks to the Newdorfs for offering housing) and have to skip a couple more national parks, but it was time.

Bright and early on day 25 I jumped out of my tent and began the 22 hour drive from KC to Pelham, NH.

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I was determined to get home as quickly as possible, so sight seeing was kept to a minimum. I did make a couple observations though:

There is actually stuff east of Kansas City. Between San Fran and KC there were about 12 gas stations total. East of KC there are towns every 15 miles. It was a comforting feeling.
Traveling East of the Mississippi brings back the adult superstores. They are everywhere. The best are the ones with "Jesus Saves" signs right next to them. I'm not sure if this is a reference to a reborn savior or MLB relief pitcher, but apparently he is good at it one way or another.
Sonic restaurants do actually exist. The commercials are all over the Northeast, but the restaurants aren't. Northeasterners will be glad to know that the midwest contains the majority of these deliciously greasy dining establishments.
St. Louis scares me. I only drove through, but it looked kinda like a hole. Everyone I know from there chooses to work somewhere far away for 5 days a week. I'm sure it's a nice place, but the abandoned warehouses and run down buildings convinced me to shoot right through.

After a day and a half of driving with a brief stop in a Syracuse hotel (big thanks to MiaManda for keeping me awake on the phone until I got there), I was finally home. Luckily the drive was uneventful and quick. I figure this is the best place to share a few stats:

State license plates seen (mostly by Janine): 49 - including a Hawaii one in Alaska. I have no idea how we missed West Virginia.
Miles driven: 9,732 - plus several hundred more traveled by sea.
Amount spent on gas: $1,504.92. Compare this to flight and car rental costs and the price of gas doesn't make me want to cry as much.
States/Provinces Visited: 25. Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, Alberta, British Columbia, Alaska, Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Arizona, Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri
Girls convinced to go on a date because they like the blog: 1 (poor thing)

So this journey is over. I'm pretty excited to see what kind of trouble I get myself into in the future. I'd like to do another Q&A, so send the questions my way if you have them. I'll leave everyone with a before/after pic to show the effects that such a trip may have on you. Hope you enjoyed.

-Chad

After Vacation--->
<----Before Vacation

*Grateful Dead (duh)

Days 23-24: Sox in KC

2008-08-10T06:00:00.000-04:00

I'd love to be creative and witty when writing about my trip from Denver to Kansas City, but I'm just not that good. I'll not kid my loyal readers (or myself), I was stopping in Kansas City for one reason only - to watch grown men run around in cotton-lycra blends, slap each other on the bum and get sweaty with each other in the triple digit heat.

Add to the fact that I was going on 3 (or was it 4?) days without clean underwear, and my whole impression of Kansas City is based on laundromats, campgrounds, Kauffman Stadium and fine dining establishments that charge less than $15 for a full meal.

So without further unnecessary rambling, here are my generalized impressions of Kansas City:

The roads out west are VERY straight: Seriously - look at this map. It is roughly 500 miles of a straight road that angles one degree this way or that at every 25 mile marker. This leads to a damn boring drive, but at least I had the Sox to welcome me once I arrived.

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This really is a Red Sox Nation: Nearly every place I went with my cap on - ballparks, stores, hiking trails, etc - I would get a "Go Sox!" welcome. People love everything about them: the story, the players, the winning ways (of late), the merchandising. Unfortunately, a KC fan was nice enough to point out that a majority of people at the ballpark were actually mid-western band wagon fans who couldn't name a player before 2002. To prove his point he asked a few groups what they liked about Mike Greenwell, with which he only received replies of blank stares and dodgy eyes.

It is perfectly acceptable to be a newer fan, but please identify yourself with a pink hat or at least try to avoid wearing old school jerseys if you don't know who actually wore that #9.
People west of the Mississippi love to hit my car: Yup, it happened once again. I was sitting in a parking lot (with one leg out my car door no less) and I got backed into. This isn't a huge deal since it was at about 2 miles an hour. What was a big deal was the octogenarian not realizing his auto was immobile due to its' being wedged against my bumper. Once he revved the engine three or four more times and slid my car forward about 4 inches, he apparently found just enough room to put his car in drive and glide away. I started to walk after him, but realized that backing into cars may be a sign that he may also drive into people. Just another war wound for the beast.
KC is a great place to watch baseball: The Royals fans are great. They know that they have a young, talented team which needs a few years to mature. They cheer hustle and good fundamentals. They don't boo poor plays or mental errors. The media presents the players in a good light and the players remain involved in the community. Definitely a good baseball town.; Fortunately, the fans don't flood the stadium each night, so tickets 5 rows behind the dugout were readily available for face value at the box office. Add that to consecutive 8-2 victories, great pulled pork and clean undies, and I had the time of my life in this soon to be renovated stadium.
Laundromats are confusing places: Why would anyone put a front load washer directly across from a top load one? Doesn't it just lead confused tech geeks to washing their clothes a total of 3 times before realizing that most dryers don't offer an option for the water temperature? $10 extra dollars and an hour later, I did finally figure out where the dryers were (luckily, right next to the Donkey Kong game) and within 45 minutes my bits and pieces smelled of a fresh Spring day.

After seeing 2 great games, I came to the realization that I was ready to head home. Up next - What A Long Strange Trip It's Been

Top 10 Web Sites

2008-08-09T06:00:00.000-04:00

If you're seeing this post, it means I haven't had time to write in a day or so. Please enjoy until I find a much needed WiFi fix...

Have you ever opened up your browser history just for fun and learned something about yourself? I know, you'll say it was your brother/best friend/roommate looking at that site, but all those other ones still say something about you.

I decided to give this a try so if I'm ever asked, "What do you do at work all day?" by one of my superiors, I can give an honest answer to them. While this may not win me productivity points, I might be able to keep my job due to my combination of honesty and boyish good looks.

So here are the sites I'm willing to admit to. A few other showed up in my history that I don't quite recall visiting, but rest assured that I will investigate them fully and add to the list as necessary.

Reddit/Digg: If you don't know what these two sites are, take a look. They are full of tons of great links that can take you from 8am to noon every day without having to do one productive task. If you do know what they are, don't bitch about how much better one is than the other - it's a matter of preference (and Reddit is better).
Wikipedia: Need to win a bet that doesn't require a source with a high level of accuracy to win? Wikipedia's the site for you. You can find nearly any information you need here. What, it's not there? Then add it! You don't know if you're right? Don't worry, someone else will fix it for you.
The Trailer Park Boys: Have you ever driven by a trailer park? Maybe you've been spoiled living in the DC suburbs and want to see how the other half lives? This is the site for you. Possibly the best thing to come out of Canada since Alex Trebek, the Trailer Park Boys is smart comedy at it's best disguised as a COPS/The Office documentary style mash up.
xkcd: Some people seem to have it all: Their health, a great family, a big house and a lot of friends, but still complain about a feeling of emptiness deep down inside. Luckily, Randall Monroe has found a way to fill that void with the wit, sarcasm and humor that can only be conveyed through stick figures and a knowledge of all things geek that would make Linus Torvalds shake his head.
eHarmony/okCupid: So you want to meet the love of your life, but there is just too much competition when you're trolling the hobby shop, arcade and GameStop? I have the exact same problem - how weird! I've found these two are the best for meeting ladies with similar interests and goals. Don't worry, I know a lot of normal people that have had good luck too.
iGoogle: Not just Google, iGoogle! Your own personalized portal where you can view your Google Mail, read you Google Docs and RSS Feeds, and check your Google calendar. It's a one stop shop for providing all of your sensitive data to a bunch of super-thinkers in Silicon Valley.
CNN Money: Are you in an office pool to see who has lost the least money in their 401(k) this year? Check out the tickers on CNN Money. Maybe you've been living in a cave and are wondering about the state of the housing market. I think this site might have an article or two to fill you in.
MSN: Sick of those straight laced news sources like the BBC and Fox News that don't sensationalize*? Check out MSN. It will give you just enough celebrity gossip, dating/divorce tips and workout guides to give you something to discuss while drowning out the CNN feed blaring in the lunch room at work.
*If you don't get the partial sarcasm in this sentence, please never read this blog again.
Facebook: Remember that friend of a friend of a cousin that wore cute librarian glasses, graduated from some school in Boston and had a name that started with an S or T? Well, with a Facebook account, some creative search techniques and enough time, you can track her down. Luckily, it's a nice clean interface that hasn't quite reached "sketchy" status, so you don't feel like a stalker the whole time, just when you eventually find her. So I've been told.
Dirt Dogs/Red Sox Official Site: If you need to ask, you fall into one of two categories: You're either not a Sox fan, or you are a poser. For the former you can be forgiven, everyone makes mistakes. For the latter, you better step up to the plate or stop taking up precious seats at Fenway.

I'm On The Road: Time to Give Back

2008-08-08T06:00:00.001-04:00

Howdy everyone,

I'm on the road again, so I haven't had time to write up the last few days. Now it's your turn to give back to my stalker community. Fill up that little comment box below with your favorite Chad story. Pretty much, use it as a repository for warning the FGOCs what they are getting into.

Please try to avoid saying how awesome I am - I figure there will be at least 3 or 4 more weddings where I can be toasted, so just save it for those. And have a little decency. I know plenty of stories exist, so write away...

-Chad

Day 22: Filth, Flam, Filth

2008-08-07T06:00:00.002-04:00

Filth is a strange thing. Most of us will go well out of our way to avoid it, but once it happens we realize it isn't the most horrible thing (unless of course you're around other, cleaner people). Filth (NSFW) is probably the best way to describe my 8 hour drive to Denver.

The day saw me rise at 6 am still encrusted in the sweat, dirt and disgustingness brought about by a 3 hour hike in the Grand Canyon. Due to excessive lines at the canyon showers and a complete lack of showers in Zion, my bedtime odor was less than desirable. Needless to say, my morning stench was breathtaking (not in the good way) and I was wishing for a washing. To complicate the situation, I arose 2 hours before all the shower facilities in nearby Springdale opened and ended up driving about a hundred miles to the nearest KOA that offered $10 showers.

In most cases, the problem would be solved. Not for this bumbling fool though. I had passed up an opportunity to wash my clothes while in San Francisco since I thought I had plenty - and for some articles I did. If I only wore around hiking socks and sweatshirts, I would have been fine (I strongly advise against picturing that image). Unfortunately, other essentials such as underwear, shorts and t-shirts were needed. The end result was a unwashed, unshaven, disheveled fool going through a pile of sweat and dirt stained clothes and smelling them to see which pair of boxers and shorts were the least dirty ("most clean" was the original wording here, but that would have wrongly implied some cleanliness). Luckily for all the campers, I was doing this about 10 feet from the all -you-can-eat pancake breakfast, so all in all, I ruined about a dozen people's morning and still smelt of a baby's diaper. Not a bad couple of accomplishments before 9am.

Once my uncleanliness debacle was complete, I shot on up to I-70 for the 9 hour drive to Denver.

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Since this drive took up the majority of my day, I figured I should go into a little more detail about my Saab. This thing is a beast - it's going strong with 107,000 miles on it. It has great leather seats that I ripped from my brother's beater. The gas gauge doesn't work, only about half of the pixels displaying the time and radio station do (I always know how far past the hour it is, but not necessarily the hour itself), and at least one of the air conditioning fans is falling out of the casing. Overall, it's a pretty sweet ride. Of course, when you take a trip that has covered roughly 8,000 miles up to this point, even this classy auto is bound to get messy. I'll let the pictures do the talking:

The Front Seats

The Back Seat:

The Trunk:

As I approached Denver, I started looking for a place to do laundry. Then I spotted it. No, not the "Super Duper Watch Naked Coeds Wash Your Clothes For Free Laundromat". Nope, I spotted Coors Field, home of the Colorado Rockies. Needless to say, I had a dilemma - do I go another day without clean clothes, or do I miss the Rockies/Nats game?

It turned out to be one of the simpler choices I've ever made. Even though I ended up wearing the same underwear for 3 straight days and only lasted 4 innings at the game, it was a great time. The stadium is beautiful, security was super nice when they "randomly" searched me because I apparently fit some kind of profile, the beer was cheap ($5 for a Blue Moon) and the fans were somewhat knowledgeable of the game. Overall it was a great time and well worth stinking for another day or two.

After a few innings of Little League level ball (the Nats are THAT bad), I jumped back in the Saab and, ignoring the conventional wisdom, drove east. The Limon, CO KOA was nice enough to host me for a long 6 hours before I headed towards my next destination: Kansas City (and 2 Sox games!!!)

Day 21: The Grandest of Canyons

2008-08-06T16:00:00.000-04:00

Last I reported in with my ever insulting fan base, I had driven nearly 800 uneventful miles across the Mojave desert in the middle of the night. The journey left me at a KOA just an hour short of the Grand Canyon with high hopes of an equally grand day.

The morn began with a quick tour of Williams, AZ through which the fabled Route 66 (where it is rumored you can get your kicks) runs through. The most amazing thing about Williams is how genuine the locals are - these are real cowboys at their best. I felt like I was at a denim, spur and 10 gallon hat convention. There was a rodeo. Everyone walked around with their thumbs in their belt loops. The men actually tipped their hats when ladies passed by. It was like my trip to Six Gun City when I was a wee lad, but with a higher temperature and a lower BMI.

After a delicious breakfast at the Pine Country Restaurant, I was ready to really start the day. Much to my chagrin, I soon learned that I was entering the park at noon on a Sunday (I'd kinda lost track of what day it was at this point) along with nearly every other vacationer in the world. Overall this was a very positive day, so I don't want to harp too much on my hatred towards the irritating people that make up about 90% of our population, but I figure I can squeeze a couple comments in:

No, it's not horrible that you have to walk almost 200 yards to actually see the canyon.
Also, your child probably shouldn't be chasing that king sized snickers with a 10 piece Kit-Kat.
Really, it is ok to not push me while I'm in line for the bathroom.
And finally, a 6 mile hike should not be done in a skirt and flip flops.

Now that my negativity towards tourists is out of the way (I'm one of the tolerable ones for the record), I can actually report on the Grand Canyon. This is one of the sights that was more impressive than I expected. It is wide. It is deep. It is colorful. It is hot. All in all, it is just amazing. In order to fully enjoy it in the few hours I had, I decided to hike part of the Bright Angel Trail (thanks for the tip Mom and Scott). This is an amazing trail that combines the beauty of the south rim with historic hieroglyphs and throws in a great workout to boot. I ended up going down to the 3 mile rest house and back (6 miles total) in a little over three hours. Other than donkey droppings here and there, it was an entirely enjoyable trip.

Once I triumphantly reached the trail head I decided to get ahead on my driving and head to Zion for the night.

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The desert drive was much like the others - boring, fast and uneventful. Luckily, the fuzz weren't out and I was able to get to Zion just before sunset. If this park is described as breathtaking in the day time, I have no idea how to describe it at sunset. The orange rock faces turn pink, the sky turns orange and nature seems to be working together to say "Screw IMAX, we got it all right here." The drive through the park took me about an hour, during which "Damn", "Jeezuz" and "Holy <insert your favorite naughty word here>" were uttered numerous times. As I've said before, the pics just can't do it justice, but I've posted a few anyway.

As the night grew old, I finally crashed at one of the Zion campgrounds. Unfortunately, the park doesn't provide showers and it was too dark to take a dip in the river. Added to the fact that I thought the lines were too long at the Grand Canyon to get a shower, and it goes without saying that I was very ripe. Some advice - if you ever find yourself in this position, just sleep in your Under Armour. Otherwise the odor brought about by a 3 hour hike in triple digit temperatures will escape, leading children to vomit, vultures to circle, and stoners to ask "What is that smell"?

Next stop in my travels: Denver

Day 20: Castro and Driving

2008-08-05T06:00:00.000-04:00

Despite my friend Robert's best effort, my final day in San Francisco was less than eventful. Even with a visit to the Castro district I was unable to come up with a good story to end the second leg of my travels. (This may be one time that I am thankful for such a bland day).

After that stroll and a thorough APBA ass whooping, I was off to Williams, AZ in preparation for the Grand Canyon.

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I could go into detail of zipping through the Mojave Desert at high rates of speed, but three sentences should just about cover it: "I went fast. I nearly dirtied my Wonder Woman Underoos. I'm still alive."

So in order to keep you entertained, here is another Q&A session (and some completely unrelated pictures):

Why aren't you posting as often?
What can I say - I live an exciting life. Between rolling dice, viewing computers that are 40 years old and riding on ferries, I just can't seem to find the time. Actually - the trip back is in a shorter time span and there aren't as many campgrounds with internet access. I've actually gone a whole 2 days with no internet at one point - Egads! Don't worry - the days are being chronicled and will be posted soon. Until then, the few privileged with the knowledge of my phone number can call to get updates.

A man of such great masculinity and pure sexuality must require companionship on the road. How have you been fulfilling your manly desires?
Whoever asked this question knows me all too well. What can I say - some men have to carry greater burdens than others, and this is the life that has been chosen for me. I've become partial to interstate rest areas and the occasional truck stop - mostly because it costs me less than the brothels. Plus the post-coital bliss is intensified by the rounded bellies of big rig drivers.
(NOTE: If you've never met me - please read this again with the greatest sarcasm possible. If you're thinking of employing me and stumbled upon this blog - I guess I made that decision easy for you. Good luck filling the position.)

Is it lonely traveling alone?
Traveling with Scotty, Janine and Moose was awesome. They are among the few beings on this planet that have any tolerance for extended periods of time in my presence (and vice versa). I do miss the walkie-talkie conversations and discussions on the origin of life, globalization and flatulence, but am coping well without them. Luckily I have made some GREAT changes to the schedule that have left me too excited to be lonely - check back soon for details (If you are an English teacher, this could be used for your discussion on foreshadowing - it could also get you early retirement.) Seriously though - no, it's not that bad.

How's the facial hair going?
You be the judge (and be more Paula than Simon...)

Did you go to the original Starbucks?
I tried to go to the one in Pike Place Market, which I believe is the original. The line was literally out the door with people looking like they hate the Starbucks stereotypes and just happened to stop by that one. I figured one more irritated jackass was unnecessary so I went and grabbed some gelatto instead.

Is your dating life that bad that you're mother is pimping you out in the comments of your blog?
I wish I could say no...

What's it like?/You think I should do it?/Are you enjoying it?

It's like what it sounds like - something different everyday followed by lots of driving. The stories are as good as you're willing to make them - it's a lot easier to ignore a German lady straddling you than it is to make light of the situation.
If you like having no real plans, eating up your savings at a good rate (don't worry - I'm nowhere close to broke - I still have a few McDonald's coupons left), showering in locker rooms, living in a constant state of sweat and just not giving a sh*t, then it might be for you. This is a much larger conversation.
And yes, I'm having a decent time. It will only get better in the coming days.

Fat Man Singing

2008-08-04T06:00:00.000-04:00

If you're seeing this post, it means I haven't had time to write in a day or so. Please enjoy until I find a much needed WiFi fix...

A huge part of my running and work out schedule is the music I listen to. I will spend literally hours making new play lists when my current one gets stale. It's something that was passed down from my mother after watching her work on aerobics tapes, and I've definitely got to thank her for that some day.

But enough of the chit-chat. Here are 25 of my favorite work out songs for your enjoyment. Feel free to post your own:

Warm Up:
Semi-Charmed Life - Third Eye Blind - 4:29
Baba O'Riley - The Who - 4:14
Carolina Blues - Blues Traveler - 4:43
Peaches - The Presidents Of The United States Of America - 2:52

Setting Your Pace:
Underground - Ben Folds Five - 4:11
Rockin' The Suburbs - Ben Folds - 4:59
Everlong - Foo Fighters - 4:10
Such Great Heights - The Postal Service - 4:27
Feel Good Inc. - Gorillaz - 3:41
The Rockafeller Skank - Fatboy Slim - 6:56
That Was A Crazy Game Of Poker (Live Version) - O.A.R. - 12:52
Machinehead - Bush - 4:16
When You Were Young - The Killers - 3:40

Really Pushing It:
Smooth Criminal - Alien Ant Farm - 3:29 - Yup, this is a Michael Jackson cover
Somebody Told Me - The Killers - 3:18
Headstrong - Trapt - 4:46
Song 2 - Blur - 2:01
Mr. Brightside - The Killers - 3:43
Everything Zen - Bush - 4:38
Chop Suey! - System of a Down - 3:31
All These Things That I've Done - The Killers - 5:02

Cool Down:
Mr. Jones - Counting Crows - 4:32
Brian Wilson - Barenaked Ladies - 4:45
DARE - Gorillaz - 4:04
Snow (Hey Oh) - Red Hot Chili Peppers - 5:35

And believe it or not, I actually use iTunes to get my music. No Russian websites, CD swapping rings or BitTorrent for me.

Days 18 and 19: Silicon Valley

2008-08-03T06:00:00.004-04:00

I've been lucky enough to have traveled to San Francisco a few times recently, so I've done a lot of the touristy stuff - I've seen the Giants and A's play. I've gone to Fisherman's Wharf, and the Arcade Museum, seen the rolling hills, etc. This time around, I wanted to make it a little different - a true geek's trip to Silicon Valley. Luckily there was plenty of geekdom to go around...

First stop, the Golden Gate Bridge. There is nothing geeky about this, but it is an amazing view. You don't realize how large it is, how orange it is, or how fast cars are moving across it until you walk underneath it. There are great parks on either side that you can walk around and get some good pictures while fighting for position with all the other tourists. Best of all - it's free (minus the $5 toll to go across). Definitely worth the trip.

Next Stop - Peet's Coffee. I'd heard how good the coffee was, and that the prices were a bit more friendly to the change purse. It wasn't until I tried the Dark Chocolate Mocha Freddo that I was in love. The flavor is better. The consistency was more thorough. The people were nicer (if you can believe that) and the internet more free. It was amazing. I went back twice more in the 24 hours since my first visit and was even more impressed each time. I haven't blinked since. This is one of Northern California's hidden gems.

Round 3 - Baseball Indulgence. My friends Dwight and Carol (I hope that they are willing to admit that at least) were nice enough to offer up their spare bedroom. In exchange, I offered my charming company and rugged good looks for their enjoyment, but made them promise no touching. Luckily, they agreed, and we had a grand old time. Outside of some of my family members, I don't know if there is a better couple to watch Baseball Tonight with. Dwight just knows it all - how to play the game, how to watch the game, how to pick up on the little things - it is a great time.

And for any little thing that Dwight might miss, Carol jumps right in to help out. Outside of Boston, there aren't many people that can appreciate Jason Bay going from first to third on a single, but she can - and she can explain why that makes him an upgrade over Manny.

Ready for some hardcore Geekdom??? During this two day span, I took the opportunity to do a little sight seeing off the beaten path. First I hit up the Google and Apple HQs. Not surprisingly, they don't offer tours (there isn't much that is exciting about watching programmers do their thing), but in between I found a gem of unexplainable magnitudes. Of course, I'm talking about the Computer History Museum.

I don't know where to start. There were pictures of Hewlett and Packard. Woz and Jobs. Fred Brooks as a young man. There was an original wooden mouse, gadgets galore, a handful of original Crays, and to top it all off an exhibit of chess simulators and games. Seriously - when I used to get yelled at when I was young, it was not for having nudie magazines, but for having wrinkled, dog-eared tech manuals. Ok, not really, but I am that geeky.

Know what we're missing? A Trailer Park Boys Reference! If you aren't familiar with the Trailer Park Boys and you've ever lived in, on, under or around a trailer, you need to be. The show is genius. Now imagine my delight when I saw a town named Sunnyvale only a few miles south of San Mateo. I was shocked. I was awed. I might have soiled myself a little. Needless to say, I went straight to the courthouse. No Ricky, Bubbles, Julian or Randy, but the picture is priceless in certain circles.

Just one more thing - APBA!!! The whole point of my stop in San Francisco (other than seeing my friends) was to play APBA against those very same friends. There is no doubt that I will dedicate an entire post to this genius of a game, but suffice it to say that it is roughly a mixture of Dungeons and Dragons and Fantasy Baseball. After an 8 game split with Dwight I learned several secrets to managing a winning team. Hopefully I can take his knowledge to aid in my future NVABL domination.

Finally, a couple random notes:

How awesome is it that Apple's HQ is on a road called "Infinite Loop"? VERY
I actually told a female about APBA and she didn't scoff. She might just be trying to be nice, but that is the first time it's ever happened.
Google has a cool parking garage where certain hybrid owners can actually plug in their cars to charge. Pretty neat.
They also have a service where you can get your oil changed in the parking lot while you work. Right on Daddy-O.
Finally, I have a handful of confirmed stalkers that actually enjoy the blog. I'm really sorry to disappoint all of you, but I'm a lot cooler in the blog-o-sphere than I am in real life. Prepare for the let down of a life time if you ever meet me - just try not to cry in front of me because then I'll feel bad...
(One more small thing - I jest. If you read a sentence I've written and think "Awww...that's sad", then you need to improve your reading comprehension. I enjoy self deprecating humor, so that's how I write. Trust me - I'm really a cocky bastard in real life. Or maybe I'm just crying out for attention...)

Next stop...The Grand Canyon.

Day 17: Driving Down the 101 (Part 2)

2008-08-02T06:00:00.001-04:00

I started writing this vacation blog for 3 reasons:

Reading past travel journals is always fun for me.
It helps in retelling the same story over and over.
My memory for relevant events (such as the answer to the question of "What did you do for 30 days?") is nearly non existent.

After reading the original post for this day, the third reason above was plainly obvious. Not only was it short and very boring, but it missed nearly every event that went on during the day:

Cliff Climbing in the Morning: Now, I don't want to make this sound like I was solo climbing shear vertical surfaces. These were simply some sandy cliffs that were on the edge of the beach, but they were sandy and steep enough to give me a good hour long workout. Climbing is always a blast because it gives me a reason to travel on all fours like my primitive cousins. Also, most people are too lazy to climb, so I don't have to listen to the other idiot tourists debate the quality of Wendy's over McDonald's while I try to relax.
More Massive Trees: These redwoods are huge. Luckily, every town has a salesman that is trying to attract tourists, so there are places to stop where you can drive through a tree, see a full house made of a tree, eat next to a tree, or set a tree on fire. I only got to experience one of these, with somewhat unappealing results...

Being a Good Samaritan Doesn't Always Pay: There are some things in life you just don't see very often, but when you do, you know something is wrong. Sometimes it is a person with a blue face or a car turned upside down. I never even considered this sight though: Stoners running as fast as their legs would take them with no frisbees to be seen floating through the air. The reason became clear almost immediately: There was a redwood tree stump on fire and their stuff was very near by.

Being the good, upstanding guy that I am (and still a little bitter from the fires that canceled my trip to Yosemite) I decided to stop and try to dump a few bottles worth of water on the flames. After a minute or two of pouring and refilling in a nearby brook, firefighters showed up to save the day and sent us all on our way. Luckily, karma decided to give me a good kick in the crotch while I was trying (poorly, mind you) to be a hero. Another good Samaritan decided that he should park next to my car. Unfortunately, his definition of "next to" was "where the Saab's bumper used to be before he hit it".

What can I say - if this is the worst auto trouble I have this trip, I am a lucky man. No one was hurt, the damage was minor, and the forest is not on fire. I really can't ask for much more.
Finding a Campground: Up until this point, finding a campground has been pretty easy. I've been sleeping hundreds of miles away from anything remotely resembling civilization, so I've had my choice of places to set up my blue floral tent (thanks for that one mom - the girls really dig it). Unfortunately once you get near San Francisco, the campgrounds become more sparse and a little more work is required. One little hint though - always check for campgrounds in the town 10 miles away before you try to drive 2 hours out of the way. Usually you just waste two hours of your life (as I did) although the driving is beautiful.

Ultimately I ended up using GOOG-411 to find the Cloverdale, CA KOA. It was a bit more expensive, but I did get a powered site with running water, free internet and an attendant that gave me a tour of the place on a golf cart in the middle of the night. Don't think that going over a 3 foot drop that you don't see in one of those babies isn't a good time.

So despite a car accident and a two hour detour, it was a nice, relaxing day of driving.

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Up next - Silicon Valley (think processors, not implants)

Day 16: Driving Down the 101 (Part 1)

2008-08-01T06:00:00.002-04:00

Throughout my recent travels I've started to become a bit of a campground aficionado. Just by hearing the name of the place or seeing a highway sign, I can usually tell if it's worth stopping or not. For example, anything with "RV Park" in the title is a trailer park that has a few extra spots open. Family campgrounds (or "Kampgrounds" - which target either Germans or poorly educated schoolchildren) usually have a pool and arcade. State parks often have pay showers and limited amenities, but are very well maintained.

During these travels I've also noticed that the setting of the sun brings an onslaught of slightly disturbing sounds. These sounds are very distinctive and fall into a couple buckets:

The fighting couple (as previously seen on COPS)
The drunk 20 something cross country bicyclists
The drunk 50 somethings celebrating the one week each year when they stay up after 9pm
Kids - crying, screaming, making gun sounds, teasing, etc
The over amorous couple

Now, most of those I can tolerate and drown out with my iPod. The over amorous couple is probably the most disturbing since I usually know what they look like, and such hideous beasts should never be allowed to take part in activities that may result in even uglier offspring (except for myself of course).

Luckily, the Emerald Forest campground had four of the five groups and provided the added benefit of situating them in sites immediately adjacent to mine. This resulted in a real life Venn diagram centered around my campsite. Luckily, with a WiFi connection, YouTube and headphones I was able to get to coax myself to sleep.

Up until this point, the day was much better than the combination of screaming children, drunken foreigners and mating mutants (reminding me that, yes, I am still very single) to which I fell asleep.

After a long, dark drive through the hills of Oregon the previous evening, I had ended up at Honeyman State Park, which is in an area known for its' sand dunes. Most people attack these dunes with four wheelers or dirt bike, but I decided to take to the sand by foot. A word of warning - this is probably the most intense workout I've ever had. For every foot and a half that you step forward you slide back a foot and into the sand another 6 inches. This path took me over 20 minutes to create, but only about 30 seconds to go down the other side of the hill.

Of course, such effort usually leads to a great reward. The image of trees springing from the dunes leads to a combination of awe and confusion that images can't capture (but I'll try to show you anyway).

This inspired me to get artsy and stage some candid photos, which I've titled "Contemplation in Yellow". This is part of my "Chad is a Tool" line which will be available at finer drug and convenience stores everywhere in time for Christmas.

After washing the sand from my mouth, hair, shoes, crevices, etc, I hopped in my car for a quick 11 hour drive to Yosemite. Unfortunately, the wildfires there have intensified, and I make it a point not to visit places where there is a decent chance of burning to death. Instead, I altered my course for a rambling 2 day drive down the historic route 101. This is a hair pinned path down the California coast that dwarfs you by redwoods on one side while allowing you to see the ocean 500 feet below you on the other.

Overall - a nice, relaxed day of driving, stopping and picture taking.

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I'm bummed that I missed Yosemite and the hiking that it offers, but Redwood National Park was a great drive with amazing views. Luckily there were plenty of cozy places to pull over and contemplate the day...

Next - Route 101 - Day 2

Day 15: Seattle - Just Wow

2008-07-31T06:00:00.002-04:00

Ok, so I'm well aware that the Vancouver posting was a bit verbose (yay me - I remember a 9th grade vocab word!) If you made it to the end, you know that I was kind of meh on Vancouver as a place to visit for a day, but still liked the city. Consider this your warning for this post - Seattle is AWESOME. If Seattle were a stripper, her name would be Ginger, it would be her first night and every dollar would get you a dance and a beer. Yeah, Seattle was like that, but better and without the clear plastic stilettos.

(Disclaimer: The above statements are all based on hear say. I've never experienced such an outing and think it is awful. This is especially true if you are a future potential date stalking me - I think such places are disgusting and degrading. If you do see Ginger though, tell her I said hi.)

I just don't know where to start on this one, so I'll take it step by step as written in my little journal (it's pink with a lock, unicorn stickers and a feather pen if you must know).

Starbucks

I know their coffee is sub par, their revenue is down and holding their cups are the ultimate sign of being a pretentious prick, but I still love them. Add to the fact that their new promotion gives out free internet access and drink add-ons just for buying a gift card and I'm sold. They are everywhere in Seattle and had me grinning like a fool in love due to my 20 hour caffeine high.

Boeing

Boeing was founded in the Pacific Northwest and has a huge manufacturing plant just north of Seattle in Everett. This plant offers the Future of Flight Aviation Center and Tour where you are taken to the actual factory to see planes being assembled - including the new Dreamliner. I couldn't talk - I was that dumbfounded. At this point, I thought the tour was the best $15 I'd ever spent in my life. I was wrong...

Experience Music Project/Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame

What do you do if you co-found one of the world's most successful companies ever and have a few hundred million dollars to play around with? If you're Paul Allen you commission Frank Gehry to build a kick ass building then throw up an unbelievable collection of guitars, verbal histories, videos, hands on displays and an outstanding Jimi Hendrix exhibit.

Still not enough? Relocate the Science Fiction Hall of Fame to an annex you have just sitting there. Fill it with memorabilia that would make any geek, nerd, dweeb or dork wet their pants like it was freshman year in college all over again and you have an instant tourist attraction. Seeing the original model of the Death Star, a Storm Trooper's uniform and a full robot exhibit made me want to cry with both pride and shame.

This double gem was my newest best $15 ever spent, but the day was not over...

Pike Place Market

What can I say - it's a kick ass market.

The seafood is fresh and HUGE!

The meals are yummy and cheap!
The street entertainment was great. You try not to tip two guys playing 867-5309/Jenny on a guitar and accordion. I was cracking up.

Safeco Field

By the time I got to Safeco Field, I was a happy man. The tour guide could have started the tour with a "Kick Chad in the Crotch" contest and it wouldn't have ruined my day. Luckily, Bob the tour guide was not that kind of man. Bob is the kind of man that knows his baseball. He loves baseball. He lives baseball. You have a question - Mariners related or otherwise, Bob knows the answer. Add that kind of knowledge to the fact that the tour covered the following areas, and I had to restrain myself from hugging him at the end:

The Mariners Suite (Where ownership sits for each game)
Press Box
Visitor's Dugout
Both dugouts
Media Room
The Diamond club where really rich season ticket holders eat (It had amazingly huge and clear pictures of Ty Cobb, Ruth and Gehrig fishing and Ruth pitching as a member of the Sox).
All this for only $8? I'm still in awe.

This was by far the best day of the trip yet. Seattle was amazing. Just unreal. I'm having a hard time not posting 300 more pics...

The night was spent in Jessie M. Honeymoon Memorial State Park in Oregon after a few too many hours of driving, and a couple irritatingly dropped cell calls.

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Wildfires are unfortunately close to Yosemite, so the next leg is still being figured out. Details to come...

Day 14: Ewoks, Olympics and Customs Searches

2008-07-30T06:00:00.003-04:00

I'll be the first to admit I'm more than a bit of an oddity - it's very difficult to put me in any one bucket. This was readily apparent while I was in college - I was as smart as the Computer guys, but played basketball, so that didn't group didn't fit. Unfortunately, I was pretty damn bad at basketball, so I didn't fit with those guys either. I wasn't a drinker, so no frats for me, but I'm not religious or retarded, so no church or young republican groups either. I ended up settling with a pretty unique group of friends who have gone on to become slum lords, consultants, auditors, and in the best career change ever, a programmer turned folk-rock cellist.

I've also had a difficult time finding towns that feed my many interests and odd ball desires. The greater Boston area is giving it a good go, but I figured that it wouldn't hurt to check out the west coast in the second leg of this journey. My first stop: Vancouver!

I was lucky enough to approach the city of Vancouver from Vancouver island, which is a brief 2 hour ferry ride away. The approach is an amazing array of treed hills and exposed rocks jutting from the water. The city definitely has beauty on it's side, as well as free health care in exchange for 50% of your annual income and your American citizenship.

During ride from Nanimo to Horseshoe Bay I was able to read up on Vancouver by way of the conveniently provided flyers placed every other yard throughout the ship. While I didn't have time to kayak or hike, I did have half a day to check out some of the attractions.

Stop 1 - The Capilano Suspension Bridge

Honestly, you tell a 12 year old that there is a 450 foot long suspension bridge that sways as you walk and you'll have a kid sprinting to terrify tourists. You tell a 28 year old "man" the same thing, and the fat bastard will jump in his car, run down a few Germans as a warm up and have the time of his life.

Of course, what good would such an attraction be without a little surprise (other than the $30 entry fee)? Usually you get a free picture, or a key chain. Not here - they go all out. They provide a freakin' Ewok-esque tree top village to walk through.

I was honestly expecting a dozen Ewoks to sprint out and hand me a light saber, followed by a team of Wookies to give me back up against the dark side. As is life, such dreams rarely come true, and that was definitely the case here. Luckily I was in good spirits and left a very happy man.

Stop 2 - Downtown
The first thing you notice about Vancouver is how active the city is. Every road has a bike and jogging lane. There are various forms of exercise equipment in, on or around nearly every car you see. The streets aren't filled with large walking eggplants, but instead with people that make you want to say "Yeah, he must work out".

The city itself is quite nice. There are numerous intellectual buildings (museums, libraries, etc) that I quickly walked past, although the Art Gallery had an interesting looking anime/comic/video game display that was not open when I sauntered by.

There are also a ton of displays for the upcoming 2010 Olympics.

The buildings themselves were unusual - they looked like normal skyscrapers, but are much shorter. It is as if concrete were poured over the first 50 floors of an entire city, leaving the exposed top 10-20 floors for use. It's not a bad look, just unexpected.

Stop 3 - Homeward Bound
While living in such a city must be nice, I must still return to my country of origin for weather over 60 degrees. Luckily, the border patrol is a mere hour drive south of the city. I've only been to Canada once before this trip, so I'm not familiar with driving check points. I was kind of expecting a warm reception - something along the lines of "You're back! Great to have you! How was Canada?" to spring from the mouth of an overly welcoming agent. This was certainly not the case.

As you may know, appearances are sometimes used to identify threats to our country. If you are going to cross an American border anytime soon, I would recommend avoiding:

3 weeks of facial hair that doesn't quite grow as it should
Smelling like someone who has not washed for 3 days
Red, baggy eyes, greeeeesy (NSFW) hair, bad breath
A license plate held in place by a 4 inch bolt screwed into a 2 inch hole
7 years worth of red bull, granola bars and water in your back seat
Maps, tour guides and directions for nearly every conceivable path across the United States

Once the 10 minutes of questioning and 15 minutes of searching my car for narcotics was complete, I was free to go on my way.

All in all, Vancouver wasn't bad. Not the most exciting day trip, but definitely a nice place to live or visit for a long weekend.

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Next stop Seattle...

Day 13: Part 1 - The Wait List

2008-07-28T06:01:00.002-04:00

So I'm finally off the boats after nearly 3 full days of travel and did not manage to change clothes or take a shower in that time. I know, yummy.

Luckily, such a stretch is full of entertainment to share. So without further ado, here is part 1 of my journey back to the mainland:

Imagine this scene, if you will. You've just stumbled off a ferry on which you slept in an uneasy 220 pound ball for most of the night. You're going on day 3 of the same pants and sweatshirt (although your Superman underoos are clean). You are on a race against time to catch the next boat where your name teeters on the top of the stand-by list.

You sprint in to a room full of haggard strangers looking as miserable as the pre-dawn hour will allow. And they're all staring. This is not a funny stare, like "Uh-oh, Chad's on beer #5. He's gonna break out that primal form of defense he calls dancing. Someone please get him a shot so he can't stand up." And it's not a pathetic stare you receive from a classroom of peers when called upon in the middle of a day dream. No, this is a hateful stare. One that can only mean that "Mr. Holmes" has been paged numerous times, to the point where they rue the name.

In symphony, three people ask if you, are in fact, Mr. Holmes. The one on the wait list? With a car to bring aboard? The stares grow more hateful. A cold breeze has filled the room, making you think that Lord Voldemort may in fact be real. What is the best way to handle this? Well, if you're me, you throw on a huge, stubble surrounded smile, put your right hand in the air and greet one and all with a big "Howdy everybody, that's me".

And it worked. Apparently, everyone loves a smart ass at 5am. People laughed. Even the biggest curmudgeons (aka BC Ferries ticket agents) cracked a smile. Maybe it's my boyish good looks, maybe it's the gap filled smile, or maybe a little friendliness (even in semi-mockery) is contagious.

So as my 3 days of ferry travel come to an end, and my driving adventures return to their rambling nature, do me a favor. Throw on a smile. Compliment someone. Smile at that cutie in the hall and make eye contact. Maybe even send some naked pictures to someone that would enjoy them. Meanwhile, I'm gonna try and get in some trouble that you guys can enjoy.

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And as always, here are some photos and a map for your enjoyment.

The smaller carbon-based beings tucked in Big Blue

I figure touring a former whore house might turn my luck with the ladies around. Check out the flowers - they are old silk condoms. Yeah, I'm sure those worked great.

A view of the Ketchikan's Creek Street

Up next - Part 2 - I Just Want to Sleep...!

Day 13: Part 2 - I Just Want To Sleep!

2008-07-28T06:00:00.001-04:00

Last we left our pudgy hero, he was waving, grinning and making British Columbians smile (they smuggle herring, not nose candy like normal Columbians)...

As you may imagine, riding ferries for three straight days can be tiring. You're sleeping options are either chairs that are less comfortable than a hot sauce enema, dining room tables, or multi-colored carpets smelling of sawdust and lysol. Luckily for me, the final leg of this travel arrived at 11pm and required a 5 hour drive to the next destination, so I had the opportunity to try all three.

Please do enjoy the hijinks that ensued:

The Chairs

I have to give it up to BC Ferries on this one. The chairs were actually quite nice and comfortable, relatively speaking of course. Unfortunately the surroundings weren't as palatable. Where do you usually find reclining leather chairs? Right - in a movie theater. And where do you usually find the diaper clad leaders of tomorrow on epic voyages such as this? Right - in front of the only tv on the ship.

Between the crying, gagging, coughing, threats, pleads and occasional odd smell, it is impossible to sleep with imprisoned children nearby. I honestly have no idea how Nicholas the Shepard and Stephen of Cloyes were able to lead the Children's Crusade. I don't care if the big man upstairs walked along side me as I led them, I'd probably still try to find a cliff to lead them over while He was tending to His other duties.

Dining Room Tables

These were actually a pretty good option. The chairs are passable, the tables bolted down, and most of the other patrons were playing cards or eating, so the noise was minimal. After just a few pages of Nickel and Dimed (NOTE: I would only recommend this to certain people - for some it will be an eye opener, while others would scoff at it), I was out like a light. By my estimation I got nearly 2 full hours of sleep.

Now the sleeping wasn't the issue here, it was the way in which I was awoken. If you are in a slumber comparable to Yogi and Boo Boo's on Valentine's day, there are very few things that will wake you up. I now know that 4 teenagers clad in white kitchen aprons and braces frantically shaking you can be added to the list.

And when such an occasion arises, what may be the first thing you'd want to hear? Maybe, "You were having a nightmare, so we woke you" or "Here have some cake", but certainly not, "OH MY GOD WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!!! WE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO". Add to that the fact that all the surrounding tables were clad in spotless white table clothes to match the aprons, and I didn't have a clue if I was in purgatory or the Alaskan Panhandle.

The Carpet

In case you didn't read my previous entry (and how dare you!), I had not washed or changed clothes for nearly three days at this point in my travels. It's not that I am a slob (though I am), but there were just no facilities for me to use. Because of this, I had worked up a nice stench representing a combination of freshly dug earth, chicken manure and my own personal scent - Eau d'Fat Man Running.

While the others on the ship may have been aromatically offended, I had come to quite enjoy my contribution to the vessel. It was with great pride that I laid upon a floor which I could claim to be the smelliest object despite stains that hinted of contenders for the title. With my head propped on my sleeping bag and my sweatshirt used as a makeshift blanket, I was out for what I assumed would be the duration of the trip.

One thing I've yet to mention in this post is the make up of my travel companions. I had assumed they would be a bunch of locals, but to my surprise, they were not. Instead, they were a clan of tall, broad shouldered, blond haired, blue eyed Germans, their children and their meager husbands.

Now Germans are known for the ability to withhold emotion and take all events in stride. Unless, of course, whales are involved, in which case all bets are off. It was during one of these Aryan stampedes that I awoke to find a frantic elderly Fraulein attempting to spot the humpbacked mammal. This would have been fine if she'd not been standing directly over my head, a heel adjacent to either ear.

I do have to admit that it could have been worse. She apparently anticipated a chilly day and had dressed accordingly, leaving her skirt packed away. I can only imagine the resulting trauma had this been a tropical cruise.

The result of such sleep deprivation and lack of green tea, coffee or red bull left me in a most curious state. Luckily, a food service employee saw that I was in a weird state and struck up a conversation:

Employee: "Did you see the whale?"
A Groggy Me: "Yeaaahhh. They are BIIIIGGGG."
Employee: "I know, but there are small ones too."
A Groggy Me: "Really? That would be cool to see a small one and a big one."
Employee: "Yeah - the small ones are usually the baby whales."
My Internal Monologue: "Shite, even the food service guy thinks I'm SPECIAL".

At that point I excused myself and silently wept for the duration of the trip through the Inside Passage.

You'll be glad to know that the 5 hour drive was completed successfully (and uneventfully) which led to my arrival in Vancouver at 8 am (after one last, short ferry ride).

Next - Day 14: Ewoks, Olympics and Custom Searches

Days 13: No internet!!! - Q and As

2008-07-27T06:00:00.000-04:00

I'm probably stuck in a ferry somewhere between Metlakatla and Vancouver, so I figured I'll throw a little Q and A your way...

1. My Mom
You guys seem to love her. She rocks (that should about fill my quota of good stuff to get all my Christmas presents this year). The fact that she confused Colbert (as in Steven) with Cobalt (the old school programming language) is damn impressive. The feats of teaching 3 aerobics classes a day, working with people of all ages to help them live a healthier life and doing it for next to nothing is unheard of. She bugs the hell out of my brother's and I, but everyone else loves her to death. What can I say - there could be much worse, but not much better (that should get me an extra LL Bean gift card in December). And for the record - her fiancee is a damn saint for putting up with her.

2. My grooming habits
You guys asked, so I'll show and tell. I haven't cut the mop top in a while, and I don't plan to anytime soon. There are no girls in the picture to strongly suggest that I should and work doesn't really require it. I also haven't shaved for a while, so here is the overall effect:

I haven't come this close to looking homeless since the night a certain friend locked me out of his apartment and I had to sleep with the Boston street people for 30 minutes or so.

Don't worry - I'm still flossing, brushing, gargling, clipping and trimming. And I make sure my "If you are reading this, we both have some big problems" tramp stamp is nice and clean every morning.

3. The "Day 8: Help Me Colbert - You're My Only Hope" geek references
One is a reference to Stephen Colbert's campaign against bears. The quote itself is a reference to the message that Princess Leia sends to Obi Wan in "Star Wars" - "Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi; you're my only hope."

4. "I will sleep with your girlfriend so bears don't eat the dog"
This was more a solution to a real life logic problem than anything. Here are the hints:

All sites can have one car and two tents, or two cars and one tent, but not two cars and two tents
All dogs must be kept in cars so bears don't smell them
Bears could well eat dogs they smell
Someone should be in the car with the dog
The dog is too excited to sleep when my bro's girlfriend is around

See - totally innocent, but well worth repeating.

5. Mount Holmes
Hell - if that is a command to the FGOCs, then I'm all for it. In fact, maybe I should start selling "I hope to be a Future Gal of Chad" t-shirts, visors and panties. I'm just happy to have a mountain named after someone that might be a very distant relative.

I'll be back in the continental US soon enough, so look for another post soon. And I'll soon be able to text and phone again once I am back. So if you've missed hearing from me, I'll make sure you don't feel that way much longer in just a few days.

Day 12: Top 10 Revelations

2008-07-26T06:00:00.004-04:00

Timothy Austin from Portland, ME writes: "So I love a good Top 10 List every now and again...". What Timmy wants, Timmy gets, so here are the top 10 revelations that have occurred to me in the first leg of this trip.

1. Blogging is time consuming...

When I first thought of writing this blog, I assumed I'd just sit down and type out whatever is in my head. I did this a couple times without publishing it, and realized a few things:

I have no idea how I'm a productive member of society. My neurons only seem to fire in the computer, math, boobies and sports section of my brain (not in that order). For the record, I'm only good with at most two of those subjects.
My grammar is horrible. Speaking to me is like putting together a verbal jigsaw puzzle. Oooh - a simple noun/verb pairing, that might be the start of a sentence! Rewriting these thoughts so they are coherent takes a little more time than I expected.
I now feel the burden of being a celebrity (this is sarcasm, not assholedness). Upwards of 40 people read the blog each day, probably more since the folks at SSF haven't conquered the art of sharing URLs and are content to print out the blog each day. I can't let my myriad fans be disappointed, so I'm trying to keep it at least a little entertaining.

2. ...But worth it

If I have to listen to one more person say how much fun Space Mountain is, or talk of the grandeur of the Cathedral of Notre Dame like they helped build it, or that the Mona Lisa was a disappointment, I might just puke. You're on vacation people, live it up. Would you rather have a journal that says
"Went to Disney today, rode the rides, nearly peed myself, had fun"
or one that says:
"Disney rocked today. Between rides I slapped Cinderella's ass, stole a fry from a fat kid, snuck into the employee only area and got a picture of me licking Pluto's face."
The blog forces me to record the memorable stuff and skip the obvious. Well worth it.

3. I am spoiled (Sorry, this one is a little serious)

I've met a ton of people over the last few days that made me realize how lucky I am. I'm young, healthy, usually the hottest person waking up in my bed each morning and make a decent living. Most importantly, I rediscovered friends and family after a few years of loving "stuff" too much. I've met a lot more people in cars packed with bags, animals and friends that are having a great time than those rolling around in spacious RVs towing Hummers (and often screaming children).

4. State/Country lines mean very little to a traveler

Every time I've crossed a state line, or even into Canada, I expected to feel different. Maybe a different smell in the air, or hear a different accent. At one point I even said, "Wow, that guys sounds like he has a Minnesotan accent even though we are 10 miles into South Dakota." The only thing these imaginary lines mean is that the sales tax is going to change, and usually the legal age of consent will too. Ultimately, they just don't mean a whole lot to travelers.

5. America is big

Seriously - in a matter of a week I saw 2 oceans, a couple great lakes, rolling hills, endless pine forests, jagged mountains, deserts and glacial ice sheets. The temperature has ranged from near freezing in British Columbia to nearly 100 in South Dakota. I've seen real cowboys, bison, whales and dolphins. And not once did I have to enter an airplane. All of that one the same continuous piece of land is amazing.

6. Long road trips are best taken with someone you can tell to "F*** Off"

I never would have made it through the first leg of this trip if I had to be polite and PC with everything I did. Sometimes things get frustrating and you need to be able to speak freely, even if you're wrong. If you're traveling with a stuck up ass-hat that loves to hold a grudge, you'll end up getting way too stressed (Seriously - TRUST ME on this one, I have a little experience here). Sometimes a good verbal slap fight is all you need to liven up a day.

7. You can sleep cheap

It's amazing how much money you can save if you drop $200 on camping equipment. I think the most expensive night for 3 people so far has been $40. KOAs in general are great - they have great showers, tolerable staff, skim the pool for turds daily and usually provide decent internet access. State parks have also been big winners so far.

8. You can travel cheap, if you have time and can defend yourself

I know, there is a huge gas crisis in our country, but I have still only spent about $500 to go 4,000+ miles. A flight for that distance runs in the $800 range. Greyhound would be even cheaper, but you'll have to deal with the people that ride greyhound - good luck. Even sleeping can be cheap if you don't mind the stained floor of a bus terminal. Believe me, sometimes sleeping with homeless people can be quite comfortable (especially if you've drank more than they have).

9. TV is overrated - but I'll still end up watching too much of it

It is amazing what you can do with the time in your life if you're not watching TV. I've completed 1 book, and am almost done with another. I've written a ton of blogs (the quality of which is still to be determined). And best of all, I've seen some amazing sites that few get to. Guess what though - I return in a little over two weeks and will fall right back into the same routine. Work all day, go for a jog or hit the gym, crash in front of the tv and skim eHarmony with limited luck. I don't like it, but it's what I do.

And if you dislike commercials now, go two weeks without seeing them and rewatch them. They are insane. Cell phone commercials with families going to nude beaches. Brendan Fraser still acting. Ads for the Seahawks season. Who really wants to watch that crap?

10. Ethanol kills gas mileage

I tried filling up on 10% ethanol gas a few times since it was cheaper. There was a reason - it dropped my gas mileage by 10-20% but only lowered the price by 2.5%. You might as well water down my fuel at that point. Maybe the flex cars are great, but I don't have one and probably won't soon, so warn dummies like me first.

And in honor of Scotty and Janine, who I just left in Metlakatla a few hours ago, let me introduce everyone to "Chaz Hands". This new form of celebration is saved for the most special of occasions when my alter ego breaks out and gets excited. Chaz hands must be experienced to truly be appreciated, but resemble "Jazz Hands" or "Happy Fingers". I believe Janine coined the term, but I very well could be wrong.

So to the two of you (and Moose) - it was a great trip and I had a blast. You're gonna rock Alaska's socks off.

Day 11: A Day on the Boats

2008-07-25T06:00:00.011-04:00

Alright, so here's the deal. I rode two ferries for over 8 hours today. Before the comments are overridden with questions pulled directly from the gutter, let me give a few answers:

No, I'm not sore
In fact, I did enter from the rear of the ship, and somewhat towards the bottom
The motion of the ocean didn't do much for me, but the size of one of the ships was quite impressive

If those answers don't satiate you're appetite for poorly veiled homoerotic references, feel free to ask away. Just try to keep the questions original. Comments like "Ha! Ferry - you're gay! Where ya going next, a gay strip club with gay naked gay dudes dancing gayly?" are boring, horribly unoriginal and are the grammatical equivalent of my typical first (and usually only) date with soon to be former members of FGOCs.

The first 3 hours of today's itinerary consisted of Big Blue being loaded to the hilt and waiting in line to board the boat while I sat in the lobby preparing for a big day of, well, more sitting.

Once we were all aboard, we were off on a 6 hour journey from Prince Rupert, AB to Ketchikan, AK. There were some amazing views along this journey including:

My brother and his girlfriend posing in front of Ketchikan, AK

A cruse ship being crushed, "Kids in the Hall" Style

Snow capped mountains overlooking ocean front homes

And my brother posing with what appears to be a homeless man

After a quick turnaround, we jumped right on a ferry to Metlakatla, AK - the new home to two of the best teachers that Maine has to offer and their pet Moose.

After an hour long jaunt around Annette Island, we finally tracked down some lodging the cleverly named "Tuck 'Em Inn"

Amazingly enough, the accommodations were as cozy as the name would have you believe. The furniture was comfortable, the tv large and the internet slow. All in all, I couldn't complain.

I'm also happy to give two-tid bits that would fall in the miscellaneous category (because everything else is so logical and well laid out):

Disappearances by Howard Frank Mosher is a great read. I was turned on to Mosher by his book Waiting for Teddy Williams which is even better and a must read for New England baseball fans (not about that Ted Williams though).
My brain-to-mouth filter is starting to fail again. Driving around a very small island sarcastically yelling "There's another good trailer for ya" with the windows down is not smooth. Telling someone that you hardly know over the phone that you are finally wearing clean underwear again after a trip to the laundromat is just plain stupid.

Off tomorrow to help everyone find a place to live, then lots more time on the boats. I wonder how people will react to an unshaven, disheveled man watching Superbad on his MacBook. Please send bail money if you don't hear from me soon...

Day 10: Mindless Dribble

2008-07-24T06:00:00.001-04:00

Some of you may have heard of google - that little advertising company that happens to offer about a hundred other tools, including a somewhat popular search engine. If you haven't, you should really check it out - it's pretty good.

In addition to the search engine, Google has a nifty collection of tools, applications and services that are quite impressive. Among them are Blogger which this blog is posted on, and Google Analytics which can be used to view information about your website - how many people are visiting, roughly where they are visiting from, how they found you, etc.

As you might imagine, I like to boost my ego on occasion by seeing who has viewed my blog and how they are getting there. For example, the McGarry's have been nice enough to link to my blog, so I get some traffic that way. A few of you have been emailing the URL around or getting it from my facebook and gmail (just ask if you want it, but I'm not posting it here) profiles, so those show up too. (By the way - I'm glad you enjoy or are at least nice enough to support me - a big IOU to all y'all.)

Now the next part is what worries me. Some people find the blog through search engines. Among the terms searched for are "chadwik66 blog", "fat man chad holmes", and "fat man running chad". All good and hopefully effective searches. Unfortunately, other searches lead to my site as well. These include:

"fat man with bib"
"picture of fat man running in pink shirt"
"running fat man game"

Now, I can kind of see how a single fat man running in a pink shirt could be humorous. But come on! A full game of fat men running? Other than the Holmes brothers dominating the annual snow football game against the Fredericks, that is a sight that should never occur, nevermind be photographed.

And even worse, what sick sum-bitch wants to see a fat man with a bib? Seriously, that is just wrong in so many ways. The only thing that can lead to is a search for "fat man in diapers", which brings an onslaught of very disturbing thoughts that are probably easily seen on the internet (you can do your own searching on that one).

Anyway - today was a slow day in Prince Rupert, BC as we wait to get on a ferry tomorrow (keep the gay jokes coming - I'm glad we're all so mature here). We had an uneventful day of doing laundry, going to the Indian Casino (my bro and his girl should have just handed me $40 and called it good) and then putzing around.

Off to Ketchikan, Metlakatla and finally Vancouver over the next few days. Riding all these ferries is sure gonna make me sore...

Day 9: Bears, Fat Kids and Pepperoni Sticks

2008-07-23T06:00:00.001-04:00

As you may have noticed, this little vacation I am taking involves a lot of driving. We have already eliminated one day earlier in the trip so we could hike the Badlands. We decided to do the same today in order to have a day off before I have three days of straight ferry riding.

The morning started at 5 am Mountain Time in Jasper, Alberta and ended about 13 hours and nearly 700 miles later in Prince Rupert, BC.

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On a trip of this magnitude, you find a lot of things to keep you busy. After exhausting my iPod play lists (especially James Taylor, Ben Folds, Barenaked Ladies and Jimmy Buffet) and many of my pod casts (This American Life, Car Talk and The Junkies), I decided to start jotting down some of my observations for your enjoyment:

Convenience Stores: These things go by a variety of names - Gas Stations, C-Stores, Kum-N-Go (yes, really) and offer even more services. Where else can you eat 3 day old hot dogs, buy flavored, colored condoms (and the pills that help get the job done) in a bathroom, get 2 jumbo kit kats for $1.19, and of course, work with wonderful people and pepperoni sticks?; Unless there is some kind of candy, processed meat and erection related products emporium, I think the Convenience Stores have this market cornered.
Bears: I know, I hit on it yesterday, but when you leave a campground one morning with this being the last thing you see, then you can over-write about it too.; And without bears, I never would have been able to utter this statement to my bro: "I will sleep with your girlfriend so bears don't eat the dog." Yes, it was entirely innocent and there was logic behind it, but I'll let you guess on what that logic may be.
Drive Throughs: I'd say this could only happen in America, but it was actually in British Columbia. The picture does more justice than I ever could with words.; I was as giddy as a fat kid at a breakfast buffet when I got this pic.

Tomorrow is a slacker day where my brother and I will be supporting the local Indian Casino while exploring Prince Rupert. Then off to Ketchikan and Metlakatla on Thursday.