Second Effort

Just where the hell are those frequent updates I promised? I’m tryin’, I swear.

Plenty of fun stuff has elapsed over the last week, so let’s delve right in. Last Saturday was a busy one for Sara and I as we started the day with a couple of meetings with caterers. There’s not much exciting to report on that front, but I doubt you will be surprised to hear that I preferred the cheaper option. We’re going buffet-style, regardless, so don’t worry fatties, you’ll be able to fill up at our reception. I should put all readers on notice now, though. Because of our venue, there will be no hard alcohol on the premises. The park does not allow it, and I think this significantly decreases the chances that we will have to clean up puke at any point during the festivities. We’re still in talks with various officials about how the beer and wine sitch is going to work, but don’t be surprised when you get your invitation and it asks that you arrive with a case of Boulevard Wheat.

Following those appointments, we headed north to the old college homeland of Cedar Falls. I have spent very little time there since graduation and from what I can see, that town is booming. I hear there’s a new Long John Silver’s, which really pisses me off cause they never had one while I was there and there isn’t one in Iowa City. I confessed my most recent binge to Sara this week: When I was in Des Moines for the wrestling tourney I bought TWO full dinners, ordered extra hush puppies, took it back to my room, took my shirt off to assure any grease spilled on my belly would be absorbed through the skin and ate all of that food by myself. For those of you who want the full tally, that’s like 5 fish planks, 4 chicken fingery deals, 10 large shrimp (always eat the tails too!) 6 hush puppies, plus the accompanying fries and little crispy batter things. I ate every fucking bite.

Back to CF. I dropped Sara off and headed to my former place of employment, Pepper’s Sports Bar to meet up with Jack Hovelson, our former advisor at the Northern Iowan and one of the coolest old dudes I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. We had some wings, some beers, and some spinach artichoke dip while catching up. But there was business to be dealt with, and I am pleased to announce that Jack will be the presiding official at our wedding in October.

Yes, we are going to do the internet ordaining thing because we don’t want no stinkin’ Jesus in our relationship. Jack is one of few people that understands that, and he has also played a pretty damn important role in both of our lives. If not for Jack, chances are neither of us would be on our current career paths (dead end). He was there at the beginning of our relationship in the NI office, was my lone ally the time I was accused of being a racist and almost fired from the Northern Iowan and he later became the focus of Sara’s graduate thesis. Most importantly, I’m confident he can stand in front of a few people and speak without peeing himself.

Later that day we got together with friends Jeffi and Steffi who recently purchased a big fucking house in Waterloo that made me very jealous and not want to call them my friends anymore. We stayed with Jeff and Steff in Chicago last fall when he and Sara ran the marathon. They are pretty decent to hang out with despite making more money and being better looking than Sara and myself.

That night we crashed with the Baranowkis at what I am realizing is no longer home. That’s no slight on my parents, they still want me around and make Sara and I feel completely welcome, but now I just feel like our little apartment in Iowa City is home base. I never reached that point in my days in Cedar Falls. We stuck around for a breakfast of corned beef hash and a lunch of Dave’s Chicken House fried chicken three hours later. I don’t want to go off on another fried food tangent, but Dave’s is what is known by me and my homies at “The Shit.” And goddamn if they don’t make the best coleslaw I’ve ever tasted.

I threw together a few sports pages somewhere between that time and when my cousins, Alyssa and Sarah, showed up from Des Moines. Alyssa is a senior at Johnston and currently making her collegiate choice. Wartburg and Minnesota are the primary options, but because she looks up to me (with good reason) she decided to seek out my advice and take a look at the U of I in the process. That, and they were on spring break and wanted to get the fuck away from her parents.

Alyssa reads a really great book I gave her for Christmas. She is also known as “The Bloned” be cause her hair is verging on albino and because she doesn’t know how to spell the word blonde.

Now, before I make fun of she and her sister, I will say that I probably bored the hell out of them on their visit but enjoyed having them around. If for no other reason, they made for great blogging material:

- Apparently on their trek in from DM, Sarah thought it was only logical that the exit for highway 218 should come at the 218 mile-marker. Not quite.

Sarah, also opening a very lovely gift from cousin TB3 for Christmas. this is the happiest she has ever looked in public.

- My feeling that kids that come out of a somewhat larger high school than mine should be a little more culturally aware was shattered when they both argued that every Asian they know plays the violin. Robert, I’m sorry, but it appears that you perpetuate yet another stereotype. I mean beyond the tiny wiener thing.

- After I had exhausted all options for entertaining them yesterday, including taking them to Paul’s Discount, we sat down and watched some TV while I assembled my new grill ($21.95 at Paul’s). Apparently they had never caught on to the phenomenon of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, and about halfway through an episode, Alyssa turns to me and says: “Are they the FAG five, or the FAB five?”

I don’t want to cast a shadow on these two kids, despite saying the things that you can pretty much expect from a 15 and a 17 year old, they are both brilliant kids, not to mention gorgeous, and have already overcome the odds by coming from a gene pool that wouldn’t exactly lend itself to such qualities.

Half the reason Sarah and Alyssa wanted to escape Des Moines this week.

By the way, Alyssa Ok’ed my adding her own blog to my list of links at right, it can be found here for now. Can you guess who inspired her to take up the dark craft?

I don’t have much else to add today, but there could be big goings on in coming weeks, so I advise you to stay tuned.

UPDATE:

Oh, I’m glad you reminded me not to leave you out. Especially since I had this lovely picture of you recieving your yearly gift from my Dad.

As far as me “thinking” they wanted to get away from you guys, well, it wasn’t so much my opinion as your children’s exact words. Is that really terribly surprising? I think it’s fairly common for a teenager to want to get away from home on occasion, as I recall I used you guys for that exact purpose a few times.

Observant readers will notice there are some changes going on here at Say Anything. Nothing too drastic, but a long promised link field has been added in the right margin, giving friends and worthy websites massive traffic boost they have been looking for. I recommend that you check these sites at least as often as you do mine, they are more than occasionally worth your while. I’ve also taken down my real name off the front page in favor of the more secret agent-like No. 3.

First, it should be explained that this is one of few nicknames I have earned over the years to which I actually take a liking. Those that know me shouldn’t have any problem understanding why it’s a nickname of mine, I have the Roman numeral tattooed on my shoulder, after all. Trent Reedy gets the credit for placing this moniker on me back in the Hillcrest dorm days of Star Trek club. Please note, I was asleep more often than not during our meetings at 10:30 on Sunday nights. But the name stuck, and I can dig it. That doesn’t mean it won’t change again in the near future. If I can come up with a clever and unique name that will stand the test of time or if you readers can suggest one to me, I would put it up so that and not my real one will be searchable on the internet and will bring in new readers to Say Anything.

And that was the main motivation for taking my name down. For a while there you could search me and come up with stories about titty bars, wasting time at work and hating the president of our country, which means I’m already on plenty of watch lists. Also, if I was ever to apply for another job, I wasn’t too fond of prospective employers seeing stuff like this.. Can you blame me? Well, you probably can, since I m the one posting it on the internet in the first place, but honestly, these things have to be shared with the general public.

I’ve also enlisted the assistance of my own photo hosting site so you can be privy to gems like this:

from my own private collection. I know, clearly anonymity is important. this should also help me stop stealing bandwidth (a term even I don’t fully understand) from other sites.

I should also alert you that the busy season has ended at work, and updates should be more frequent for the time being. With all these exciting changes going on, I think it’s fair to say you should be excited about Say Anything in the coming months. Think of it this way, it’s like having your own portable tongue on cheek author right there when you need him.

Maybe not just like that, but you get the drift.

This couldn’t have been absolutely necessary.

Just to be clear, I have nothing against the Queer Eye guys or their show, or even their message that I am a disgusting slob. I tired of them quickly after the initial novelty, but I still stop flipping on Bravo once in a while to watch them turn a mountain man into David Bowie. But the Bosox? Come on guys. I love that Damon held out on the hair issue, but only because of a book deal. The beautification of the Boston Red Sox should not be a priority in our country right now. I will forgive this transgression, however, if Curt Schilling, also knows in this blog as
Gamer, busts some oversized heads on Capitol Hill on Thursday.

Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! (Robert Thompson’s most recent cutsie recycled moniker) says:
you’re going down
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
I just filled out my bracket
TB3 says:
mine has been filled out for ages
TB3 says:
you will be pwned
TB3 says:
I have a long and established history of cleaning up in March
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
we’ ll see
TB3 says:
who’s in your FF
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
illinois, kansas gonaga and duke
TB3 says:
oh you poor bastard
TB3 says:
you’ll be out by the end of the second round
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
pelase
TB3 says:
tell me you didn’t pick the Illini
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
oh hell yes
TB3 says:
you fool
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
and I’ve got iowa beating cincy and kentucky
TB3 says:
oh jesus, you haven’t done the NCAA bracket too many times, have you?
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
muahahahaha
TB3 says:
I have Iowa over Cincy, but over Kentucky is just foolish
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
it’ll happen and we’ll burn out in the sweet 16
TB3 says:
Robert
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
you don’t understand, Alford will go far — just to piss all us hatas off
TB3 says:
Kentucky is a good basketball team, Iowa, on the other hand is a group of kids playing without a coach
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
yadda yadda
TB3 says:
My FF is Duke, Illinois, North Carolina and Wake
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
puleez
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
wake?
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
no way
TB3 says:
you have NC losing to who?
TB3 says:
Dude, they come out of the second best conference in the country and have one of the best RPI’s
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
kansas
TB3 says:
oh god
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
and they’re going to choke
TB3 says:
you’re such a tool, I have Kansas, of the LOWLY big 12, going out to the badgers
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
yadda yadda
TB3 says:
and the thing is, that’s a smart upset pick because it doesn’t matter in the long run, either one of them will lose to UCONN in the next round
TB3 says:
and even if they don’t, it would be IMPOSSIBLE for them to beat carolina
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
sure sure
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
in the help desk bracket I have iowa in the FF
TB3 says:
you’re a jackass
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
omg, I think I’m going to win two different leagues with two competely different brackets
TB3 says:
I think you have a better chance of getting laid
Iceberg Lettuce Sinks Titantic Salad! says:
thanks for your confidence in both fields tony
TB3 says:
I’m here to keep you grounded

My apologies to those who expected me to run on Sunday. I spent the weekend puking, shitting or puking and shitting simultaneously. Feel free to chime in with your own tournament talk (Can the Panthers knock off Evil Wisconsin?) in the comments section. Or just tell Robert what a loser he is. You can view the full size bracket by clicking the title of this post.

I have no time to do this today, but I had to alert avid readers to to this impending event and the beginning of my “Get less fat for the Wedding” kick.

Occasional friend and full-time lackey Jeremy Whitaker gets the credit for pointing out this inspired and insipid event on Sunday that may just be the key to getting me off by big green-clad ass. I can’t officially commit at this point, but if we can assemble a good sized posse, it would help encourage me. Let me know if you’re interested.

The wait was worth it, two posts today, check ‘em both out. If I didn’t make you long for it, you wouldn’t appreciate it when it arrived. See, it’s all about supply and demand.

Speaking of which, after spending the better part of my life over the last few days (including another all-nighter in the office on Monday/Tuesday) assembling a six-page pull-out congratulatory section for the girls basketball team on making it to the state tournament (which will force me to pull another all-nighter next Monday/Tuesday) I was just raped by said team for a $20 t-shirt. I am fairly confident they regard me as their slave at this point.

I guess that’s just what I am. For the most part I have been working every day of the last month as the basketball and wrestling season wrapped up. State wrestling was this past weekend and all I have left of the winter season is that damn girls team that keep on winning.

But you aren’t here for excuses. You’re here to be entertained. First I have to share the good news, following my post a while back, an expansive and less than expert group of geeks was recruited to score Cubs tickets for this summer. I am overjoyed to report Mattbot was able to crack the Cubs’ defenses like . . . well, the Tardinals. That’s right, the Bot secured 6 tickets to the Friday game against Boston and unless the world comes to abrupt end, I will be at that game. The rest of those Chump-Ass Flunkies couldn’t buy a ticket if you shoved them up their ass and gave them a post-hole digger, but no matter, Matt is a hero and will no doubt be showered with beer, urine and vomit on a certain Friday night in June because of it. It is also worth note that Matt not only out-shined the rest of my dominion once, but broke through a second time and secured 5 tix to a Tards game in August. Because he is doing me the favor of getting my big ass (according to Robert) in the Pearly Gates of Wrigley once, I’m not pressuring him for a second invite. But I’m not afraid to offer sexual favors either.

Quite clearly the anticipation of this event has been preoccupying me, and with money already in short supply, a wedding to fund and a honeymoon after that, I’m afraid I will have to attend sans the Ortiz jersey on which my heart was set.

Break for Tony to go home at a normal time for a change.

And on that front, there’s suddenly more bad news. The undergrad accounting student I just paid to do my taxes just let me know that I jumped a bracket…perhaps two…in my first full year of being a contributing member of society. So my tax refund is going come in around $2000 dollars less than I had hoped. To be exact, that’s $41 dollars from W and 91 from the great state of Iowa. Which make the chances of that Ortiz jersey purchase somewhere around zilch and bupkis. Those of you who so regularly tune into Say Anything for a little pleasurable reading at the bargain basement price of zero may want to consider perusing this site, or perhaps this one, you know, just out of curiosity. In case you need a refresher course on why I am a Papi supporter, there’s the original realization by Matt that my Dad apparently fathered a black child and he got the athletic genes. Here’s some trivia for you, my Dad was actually the city sprint champion in Cedar Rapids and has several medals from the Drake Relays. He was also, I am told by every one but him, an awesome running back for Cedar Rapids Kennedy. It’s true, and to prove it, I still have the signed letter from Notre Dame Head Coach Ara Parseghian recruiting him. He had full ride offers from most of the Big Ten. Unfortunately he chose not to pursue football, or college for that matter. Papi got the athletic genes and I got the fuckup genes. Of course, I was second team all-District defensive end in football, 8th grade conference discus champion, No. 1 golfer on the Union Knight squad and a top-notch recruit for Iowa Central Community College. I once bench pressed 320 pounds and squatted 630. Do I sound like a jackass yet? That’s what I was going for. Further proof of my relationship with DO:

Wedding planning is currently in full swing. For one of us anyway. Sara has been busting her little balls getting everything locked up. In the past week she booked both a cake lady (wait till you guys see the muffin tree she’s going to build us) and photographer, and the caterer is next on her list. I was given one fairly simple assignment, that being find out how the hell we get someone ordained to marry us without getting into that whole mess of a promise to God. I have yet to do so, or for that matter, ask the person we have selected as the best candidate. In my defense, all along I have aid I wanted to have it completely figured out be ready to outline exactly what must be accomplished to our officiant before scaring the hell out of him or her with the request. So I did actively research this, first calling the Linn county Courthouse (didn’t know their ass from a hole in the ground), followed by the Johnson County Courthouse (preoccupied with the prosecution of Hawkeye basketball players) and finally the official state office of Clerks of Courts, who was two busy and hasn’t returned my voicemail in the two weeks since. So I think we’ll just slap some rings on each other and call ‘er good.

As a result of all this work, the social scene hasn’t exactly been hopping for us in Iowa City. Maggie Campbell-Steele-Raw did come to town not too long ago and we had a nice and overly expensive night on the town. For some reason I was compelled to order a New York Strip at Atlas, which was very good, but also about 20 dollars out of my price range. Especially when there’s Guinness to be drunk.

The steak probably would have been the highlight of the night had Matt’s sister Kate not laid down a major BURN on Robert. When for some reason talking about a local sandwich joint, Kate was emphasizing how good looking the boys who sculpted the sandwiches seemed to be, and said that’s why Robert enjoyed going there so much. You know, just a good old fashioned gay reference, but also a shot at poor Robert’s looks who is really quite cute in his own way. Apparently Kate just wanted to tease him about being gay, not ugly, and when she realized her inference went on to further insult him with this priceless one-liner: “I didn’t mean it that way, I mean, I would have even said that to Tony.”

The implication here being that I am far better looking that Robert. So you had to be there, but trust me, I laughed my ass off at poor Robert’s expense. It’s ok, though, he needed his ego taken down a notch. The twirp had been accepted to the U of Michigan for a Masters in computer Geekery earlier in the week and will be leaving me as the lone connoisseur of good beer in Iowa City. Speaking of, I bought a 12er of the Budweiser Select while down at State wrestling in the ghetto hotel room. Save your money, tastes just like Bud Light.

So I’ve gone a little too far with this update, but I had two random funny things brought to my attention in the last couple days. The first being one the funniest/most disgusting things to happen to me during a very funny/ disgusting stretch of my life in college at UNI. On the phone with Sara in the early stages of our relationship, I was in a certain roommate’s room, sitting on his bed and watching him play a computer game. I leaned back, stretched, and put my hand between his bed the wall where I made a frightening discovery: what had to be about a box worth of ‘used’ Kleenex. There’s no context for this story in this particular post, but Sara brought it up the other night and I just about died. She will have to comment and explain my reaction as I was on the phone with her at the time and didn’t want to give up EB’s dirty little secret. I will say this, he wasn’t very ashamed.

Lastly, my uncle Drake sent me this random picture out of the blue today:

Which reminded me of the approaching Easter holiday and one of my favorite memories. As soon as my cousin Chad was old enough to drive, we would look for reasons to get the hell out of my grandma’s house on holidays. And of course, annoying little sister Dana would beg to tag along. One particular Easter she managed to squirm her way into the backseat while we were out for a drive and there happened to be a road-kill rabbit not a block from my grandmother’s house. We proceed to drive back and forth up the street and over the rabbit, calling it the Easter Bunny until she is completely broken down in tears, we are too from laughing so hard, and the rabbit ceased to give us the little speed bump we were looking for in the hopes of added effect. Easily one of the meanest and most hilarious things I have ever been a part of.

Leave comments, assholes, it took me hours to write this, you can spare five more minutes.