...and I don't even speak Spanish

Seeing as how I do not (yet) have a daytime job, I watch a lot of television. Yes, I know, I am really furthering my education...leave me alone. Anyway, one can only take so much "Jerry Springer" and "Passions." (After three days, all of the episodes look the same.)

During one of my daily channel-surfing episodes, I came across the Spanish channel. Now, I do not speak Spanish, so why did I keep the Spanish Channel after completing auto-scan, you may wonder? Well, my roommate, who doesn't know Spanish either, thinks that the girls are hot. No joke. He made us keep it as one of the 15 channels that we have, because the girls on TV, whom he doesn't UNDERSTAND, are hot. I don't want to know...I usually pass over the Spanish Channel because, as hot as the chicks are, I have no idea what's going on (and no desire to watch hot chicks, unlike my roommate. I know, I know, I should be more adventurous.)

Anyway, back to my channel-surfing session...
32--Jerry Springer--I went to a taping and never want to watch this show again. No.
34--Spanish Televangelist--I can't understand him and if I did, wouldn't agree with what he is saying. No.
38--Boring Asian movie with English subtitles--What the fuck?! No.
44--Spanish game show--Ugh, I can't believe my roommate makes me keep this damn chan-WAIT. Yes!

Now, I can only describe as best as I can what transpired on the television in front of me. I searched the Internet for HOURS looking for a still photo or video clip so I could put it here, but found nothing. Anyway, here I go. It will not be HALF as funny as it if you see it, but I'll try. There are two teams who compete against one another in various competitions, blah blah blah, someone wins. I don't know Spanish, I don't get the rules. Now, I came into the middle of this and just figured it out (I know, I'm really smart), but I'm going to go step-by-step here because well, you can't watch it and laugh like I did.

The Red Team is up first. All of the members have foam helmets, knee pads, and elbow pads. They have two minutes to fill up a bin full of water on the opposite side of the stage. (Whichever team fills up the bucket with the most water wins. Duh, right?) They take turns carrying a bucket of water in each hand. Sounds kind of easy, huh? I don't need to understand Spanish to enjoy this! But, they don't just run from one side of the stage to the other. The five Red Team members stand on a platform about four feet above the ground. There is a 30 foot tarp at the top of the platform that they have to cross with their buckets of water before reaching the other side, sliding down a foam wedge, crossing the floor, and dumping their water into the bin. Ok, still not that bad. But wait, there's more. The tarp, wedge, and floor leading up to the bin are slippery. I'm not talking tube socks on a newly waxed floor slippery, this is slip-n-slide with soap, olive oil, and Crisco slippery. Ah, hilarity. But it doesn’t stop there. Now, American game shows of this nature don't care about the other team while they're not competing. But that Spanish Channel, they really like getting everyone involved. The Yellow Team is lying under the tarp with their feet up in the air KICKING the underside of the tarp. So, here is the scenario...

Red Team member #1 picks up two full buckets of water. The timer starts, 2:00, the Yellow Team starts pumping their legs, water splashes up from the tarp, and #1 starts running. BOOM! Down, off the tarp and onto the padded floor. 1:58. #2 picks up two buckets, makes it past one set of feet, then BOOM! Down just like #1. 1:54. #3 gets their water, and makes in onto the tarp. BOOM! Down, but not off. He shuffles across the tarp on his butt, holding the buckets straight out on either side of him. He's halfway down the tarp on his ass, bumping up and down, when all of the sudden, BOOM, onto the floor. 1:47. #4 is up. He face plants onto the tarp, then head first onto the floor (THAT'S what those foam helmets are for!) before the clock gets anywhere. 1:46. #5 gets going and makes it about halfway and then BOOM, falls onto his stomach. But #5 is relentless. He shimmies across the tarp on his stomach while getting kicked in the face, stomach, and I can only imagine what else and makes it to the end! OHMYGODTHISISSOEXCITING! He goes head first down the wedge, stands up, and starts to run across the floor to dump the water from his buckets into the bin. #5 thinks he's in the homestretch, but alas, the Spanish Channel is all about packing as much as they can into the punch. The floor between the wedge and the bin is slipperier than the tarp! He's on his ass as soon as he stands up. He finally gets to the bin to dump his water in. He tips the buckets upside down and NOTHING comes out. How anticlimactic. After all that hard work he has nothing to show for it! 1:30. #1 is up again. As if this couldn't get any funnier, the Spanish Channel figured out how to kick it up a notch by adding sound effects! With every slip, fall, face plant, and head landing, there is an exuberant "BOING" in the background. The next minute and a half is the same thing over and over again. Sometimes they get water in the bin but most of the time they don't even make it down the tarp.

The buzzer tells the Red Team at 0:00 that time is up, and boy are they ready for it to be; they look exhausted. The Yellow Team slides out from under the tarp and straps on their foam helmets as the Red Team lines up under the tarp, sticks their legs up into the air, and gets ready to go.

For now, I think I'll keep the Spanish Channel.

My Friends in Tampa

A lot of you have heard this story from last year, but I found it in an old e-mail & thought I'd throw it up here. It's not funny at all, just kind of unbelievable. Plus, it illustrates what a dumbass I am when I've been drinking.
- - - - -
Last New Year’s Eve, I was in Tampa for the Outback Bowl to watch the Badgers lose to the Georgia Bulldogs. After a long night of drinking at the bars to ring in 2005, we were finally kicked out around 3am. I was walking down the street looking for a cab to go back to the hotel with about 15 of my friends. All of the sudden I hear this girl screaming "Let go of me!" and "Leave me alone!" I look over and see a guy behind her bear-hugging her and dragging her around. There are people everywhere who do nothing; I realize I am in this alone. In my drunken state, my adrenaline takes over. I run across the street and start yelling at him to put her down and leave her alone. He pays no attention to me as he pulls her around to the side of a building and puts his hands up around her neck, screaming obscenities in her face. His friend stands back and watches, and I figure he is my only option. I start yelling at the friend to get him off of her. He is finally able to pull him away. As they leave, the guy comes back and kicks her really hard in the leg. They run away as she collapses and starts crying even harder.

I’m able to get her up and sit her down on the sidewalk. I calm her down a bit and start thinking about what to do and where she can go. I learn that Brandi had just moved from Colorado two weeks prior to live with “D” and didn’t know anyone else in Tampa. Awesome. I convince her to come with me down the block to talk with my friends and figure something out. Unfortunately, as we start walking, I look down the street and don't see anyone that I know. I am hit with panic. I am in a not-so-great neighborhood of a city I just got to THAT day, drunk, with NO money, at about 3 o'clock in the morning, with a girl whose boyfriend just beat her up. I finally spot two of my guy friends. (Turns out the group realized I was missing after they hailed a cab, so these guys stayed behind.) As we’re contemplating the police, (which she vehemently opposed) shelters, etc., D comes back. As I see him walking up, I realize the situation I have gotten myself into. He has cornrows in his hair, an oversized jersey, and copious amounts of bling. I take a look at Brandi and realize she’s dressed straight out of a Ricki Lake “You Stole my Baby’s Daddy” Episode. She’s wearing a white pleather mini skirt, a lace-up corset, hoop earrings the size of cds, and greasy curls down her back.

D comes back, crying and apologizing profusely to Brandi. Being on the drunken adrenaline-fueled crusade that I’m on, I get in his face and tell him he needs to leave. Somewhere in the back of my head, I kept telling myself that he wouldn’t hurt me. I am adamant about Brandi coming with me and not dealing with him until the next day. D is all over the place, yelling at me one minute about how it’s not my business and I’m a bitch, then telling me that he respects me and what I’m doing. I’m in no mood to deal with his bullshit. My guy friends come up and try to separate us, which only makes matters worse because D starts threatening them and accusing Brandi of wanting to go home with them. This goes back and forth for minutes, until I finally think I have convinced them both that Brandi is coming with me for now and they can talk in the morning. All is well; D starts to walk away. I turn to Brandi to discuss hailing a cab when she says that she has some friends at a bar on the next block. Before I can respond, she’s gone. I don’t see her anywhere, but see D running down the block. All of the sudden, there is a squad car stopped in the street in front of me. My adrenaline rushes out of my body and I am back into a state of complete drunkenness, babbling incoherently about the ordeal, unable to remember Brandi’s name or detailed descriptions. My friends and I finally get a cab back to the hotel around 4:00.

Useless technology

I refuse to buy a camera phone. I think they're pointless and a waste of money but unfortunately for me, non-camera phones are becoming few and far between. I don't need it to snap drunken pictures of my friends at the bars; I can use a regular camera for that. However, there are passing moments in my life when I wish I had invested in one so that I could inconspicuously snap a picture and be off.

Take today, for instance. I was walking down the hallway in the train station and as I turned the corner, almost bumped into a man in a wheelchair. I look at this grossly overweight man and see his head slumped over. I think for a moment he must be dead, but see him move slightly and realize he is only sleeping. So, quick recap- there is a man sleeping in a wheelchair in the train station next to a wall. Nothing unusual, practically expected during rush hour. Upon closer inspection though, I realize that he is PLUGGED into an outlet.

If only I had my camera phone, I could have taken a picture of the sleeping man who plugged the battery pack of his wheelchair into the wall at the train station in downtown Chicago.