Windswept Stars

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Vegas Baby...Vegas (Mullet of the Week Inside)

Thursday, I'm firing up the Tahoe and making the 8 hour drive to Las Vegas. And I'm sure the most pertinent question is "Why wouldn't you fly?" and my simplest answer is "I don't like the thought of dying for 2 hours."

Anyway, the reason I'm going is because my best friend and myself have decided to forego the normal traditions of a local fantasy football league in Baltimore to try our hand at the national level and win $100,000. The entry fee was $1350 b/t the two of us and if we win our league -- I'd say we break even for the whole trip, which would be freakin' awesome. Basically, the three most exciting things about this draft for me outside of that whole I could win a lot of money thing:

1) There's a guy with a stopwatch at each table at the draft. I hope to make this guy proud with the amount of snide, staggering insults I can come up with when he's announcing I have 30 seconds left to choose between Nate Keading and Marcus Pollard in the 15th round.

2) I haven't gotten a haircut in two months, nor have I shaven my beard. I'm going for the Jerry Garcia look to offset perceptions of myself, and I can't wait for the first person to make a hippie joke, so I know who I'm picking on during the draft. Usually, in a draft amongst friends you know the person you'll recite "I hope you draft his hamstring too" line after each pick. Without knowing anyone this time around, this is my safety net in case nobody is from Pittsburgh or Cleveland in my league.

3) For two hours after the draft -- open bar cocktail party hosted by the tournament. That's right, just imagine 1500 fantasy football freaks getting plastered for two hours. My dream would be for the Manning/Tomlinson debate to ignite a benchclearing brawl you could only find between old ladies at the buffet lines when trying to steal silverware.

For those wanting more info about the league: LOOK AT THE RETARDED WEBSITE HERE

And I'm only calling it retarded...cause whoever designed it...was retarded. As a graphic designer that hates learning Flash, I wouldn't understand why someone would try and use it, if theerson and finy a) suck at it or b) don't code properly.

Anyway, HOPEFULLY in the tradition of many famous sports columnists (The Sports Guy) or other pop-culture reporters -- I'm going to do my best to keep a running diary of my 4 nights/3 day debacle of fantasy football/free drinks/possible strip club/definite 99 cent breakfast marathon.

Oh, an for my #1 fan GROVER ---

Friday, August 05, 2005

Make this Haze Go away...

I'm excited because I am seeing the Black Crowes at the Fillmore this weekend. Except for Blind Melon, I believe this is the one band of my generation that captured my kindred spirit of my 20's. Start off extremely popular, go into life-harrowing drug experiences where their peers start actually respecting them for their work and then come out of it with a foggy memory, 10-15 relationships gone awry and now trying to reclaim past glories...and not doing a bad job of it.

I refuse to correlate my life to Seattle bands or Scott Weiland or any crap most people call music today. So, fuck off on that front.

I also read Kate Hudson won't mind if her husband cheats on her, as long as he doesn't catch him and everything's hunky-dory at home. I applaud her efforts and hope she looks for me tonight at 8 PM at the Boom-Boom Room across the street. Its better to strike first then last, honey.

Anyway, I leave you all with these lyrics for the weekend:

"One mirror too many gonna tie you up
A life forever empty has got to be tough
Too many starless night gonna leave you blind
You can never make it right"

Here's too starless or starfilled nights.