What's the deal with rocks?

For some odd reason I tend to get a lot of rocks as gifts. I don't know why, I don't ask for them yet they keep arriving. We're not talking rocks in the form of diamonds, or any other decretive  type, but home grown, find them in your driveway variety. Don't get me wrong it's not exactly what the gift is but the thought that counts...right?

It all began when I was in high school...

We were playing in a summer basketball league and somehow our roster got screwed up so we got put on what was essentially an all star team (and I was there too). It was a bunch of good players from my home town and then some of the best players from another school who we kind of knew but got to be pretty good friends with throughout the season, one of which gave me my very first rock gift.

It's not a very funny story, just a little odd. We were leaving the gym after another dominating performance (we convinced the other team that we were homosexual so they had a hard time concentrating while we were posting up and such) and my friend, let's call him Mitch, was putting his bag into his car when all of a sudden he pulled out a rock from his back seat and asked if I wanted it. I took it as a sign of our friendship, and also figured if he was going to offer me a rock I'd make him look like a jerk and take it!

That was 13 years ago and I still have the rock to this day...maybe I belong on that hoarders show?!

Random circumstances kept bringing myself and rocks together throughout the years so that now I have red rocks, rocks that look like they should have fossils in them, and occasionally I even received hardened animal feces...but it's the thought right?...right?

The latest rock I received this past Christmas from my nephew, and I know what you're thinking; "ah that's so sweet!" Well, you're wrong. I spend a lot of time with my nephew and niece, they come over just about every day to get help with their homework, I coach my nephew in basketball, and if there is a high school basketball game in town I try to take them...I have never explained to them anything about my history of getting rocks as gifts.

So shortly before Christmas my nephew comes up to me with a list of about 500 things he's expecting for Christmas...because it's the thought blah blah blah...  I look it over and tell him, that he has to pick a few things that he really likes and I'll see what I can come up with for him. He knows he has a real sucker on his hands and figures he will get whatever he wants from me so he aims high. A new Wii for his dad's place, $100 basketball shoes, a pony, a live Elvis concert and a ticket for the first commercial trip to the moon...maybe not that extreme but really, the things he was asking for...I found myself questioning just how much do I really like this kid? Am I even sure we're blood related?

A few days later he comes over to do some homework and brings my dad a pizza cutter he got at some career day thing or science fair, I don't know I'm too busy trying to resurrect Elvis, or at least find what island he's hanging out on these days. The pizza cutter is to become a Christmas present from my nephew to my dad...the pizza cutter was not on my dad's list (FYI).

A couple more days go by and my nephew is constantly reminding me about what he wants for Christmas and with each day he gets a little more anxious and dare I say demanding...? "I will not take the second flight out, I won't let that son of a bitch Timmy beat me to the moon. It's bad enough he beat me in monkey bar chicken."

Finally, he comes walking in a few days before Christmas. I've already spent $3.5 billion dollars on booking his flight and a year's supply of hay for that stupid pony. He has a smile on his face and tells me he got me a Christmas present. I know he's on a fixed income depending on the amount of chores he accomplished that week but still somehow I'm thinking to myself, "wow, I guess he really does care." He tells me to close my eyes and open my hand, so I do. I don't know what to expect but then I feel it drop into the palm of my hand...I know what it is before I even open my eyes. A rock. Not some nice rock with a cool design on it, or something he got at a gift shop on a trip, not even a GD moon rock!

I ask him where he found it and he said he was kicking around his driveway and saw it and thought of me (ahh...sweet!) No. Not sweet. My nephew was kicking around dirt, found a crappy old rock, and thought of me?! Really?! But it's my nephew. He's only 11 years old and he doesn't know yet about giving gifts. You know, how we all say crap like, "it's the thought that counts." When we really mean, you better get me something that says just how much you love me or I'll see you in hell. Don't you love Christmas?

This whole blog came about because I was doing a little cleaning in my room today and I happened upon a few of these "gifts" that I have received over the years...yeah I still have them. Even though I find myself all pissed off at the time I receive them, they are a very unique (and crappy) thing to give to somebody. Each one has it's own unique story and a special meaning in my heart.

In case you were wondering...I chucked that piece of crap my nephew gave me into the river. (It was tied to the leg of his pony)

The One After The Last

In my previous post, I covered the joyous celebrations of sports athletes and how much fun it would be to do the same at my current job.  I was RIGHT, it’s amazing…

Moving onto this blog post, I will briefly discuss the other side of sports -- sports anchors. Love them or hate them, they are not going anywhere.  There are three different types of sports anchors: the one that does live broadcasting at the game, giving you the play by play; the one on the sideline that talks between quarters and games; and lastly, the sports anchor that isn’t at the games, but gives you the recap.  Now, which of these do you enjoy most...or better yet, which do you think is most annoying?

For me, the winner would have to be that all of them are annoying.  Their profession is right up there with meteorologist -- throw out some numbers and if they're right, who cares; but if they're wrong, still no one cares.  First off, the play-by-play announcer...I understand why your profession is necessary for the blind.  Let’s face it, if the announcer wasn’t there, it would be tough for someone who is blind to enjoy a game, unless they have invented brail subtitles.....hey, it could have happened.  But, back to the topic. I’m currently watching the game. I don’t need some annoying person telling me who passed the ball to who.  Yea, I saw it...thanks for the update.  Then they give their opinions on certain situations that no one cares about, complaining about calls or stating what they see.  Yea, we get it, and you're wrong as well (Jeff Van Gundy).

Next, we have the courtside announcer that only talks between quarters and at the end of the game.  Between quarters, they don’t say much.  Maybe they don’t have time or perhaps they just don't have anything good to say.  I’m going to go with the latter.  At half time, the interview with the coach is always the same. “Yea, our team is doing alright, but we have to give the other team credit.  They're playing great.  We need to find a way to pick it up at half.” Yawn…….Get new material (Dane Cook)…Finally, the game is over and they get to interview the player of the game. This might be the most disappointing for a young sports fan.  The interviewer will ask a simple question: ________(insert question)?  Then our heroes will answer with poor English, broken sentences, and frankly, not even answer the question.  Then a young fan will ask his mother, “Mom, I don’t understand what’s going on.  What did he say?” Mother will follow with, “Stay in school.” You would think college scholarships would get you somewhere.

Lastly, we have the recap sports anchor.  There are many different ones, but I am going to reference the ones on ESPN SportsCenter.  Don’t get me wrong, I love SportsCenter.  It's probably my favorite show, but there is a lot of repetition.  It doesn't matter if it’s 1^st and 10, SportsCenter, ESPN2, or Around the Horn, everyone is discussing the same topic.  Let's take football season for example.  Tim Tebow -- how many times did we hear his name this season?  One day, all for Tebow.  The next, wanting to crucify him.  As stated previously, just like meteorologists, sports anchors will flip flop quickly.  Presently, we are in basketball season.  Oooooh yeah, thank goodness.  Just when I felt relieved that we won’t have to hear much about Tebow and that ESPN will ease up on the repetitiveness, out of nowhere, comes the Asian.  Linsanity, Me love you Lin time, Va-Lin-tine, Lintastic, the Lin and Only...the list goes on.  Yes, he is doing great and my hat is off to him, but seriously ESPN, you're killing me.  I can’t even watch you right now.  Saying Lin is the greatest point guard in the game...come on, there have been six games.  Greatest Asian, yes, I will give you that. Also, how did he not make it onto the All-Star team?  Are we only voting in America?...cause let’s face it, if half of China voted, he would have been the number one vote-getter.

Lin is playing awesomely.  His collection of wins is probably right up there with his Pokémon collection.  Can’t stop till you get them all.

Lastly, what piece of silverwear, pot, or pan was thrown down the hallway to come up with the name Lin?…

Was this the one...straight to hell on this one?

Today is all about LOVE!

As today is Valentine's Day I thought it would only be appropriate to speak to you all about Love, the player formerly known as K-Love that is. Our relationship, as fans, has been much like a romantic one. When we first drafted Kevin (we're on a first name basis now) I was not a fan at all. I thought he was a decent player but thought he could use another year or two in college to develop. I even ran across one of his childhood friends in Wichita while visiting my cousin and told her that he shouldn't come out. I was pleading with her to talk some sense in to him but apparently my opinion did not matter at the time as he chose to come out in the draft after just one year in college.

Draft day came and low and behold Kevin landed in Minnesota through a trade...it was as if God was punishing me...or so I thought at the time. See I had been a pretty die hard TimberWolves fan for quite some time but after our breakup with another Kevin I became less interested in the team and began to follow him with his new team...I was facebook stalking well before it was cool. (It is cool right?)

As my old love began to have success with his new team I found myself happy for him but never thought that I  could be truly happy myself because I was living through another team. There was two solid years where all I could do was live in the past and think about what could have been...but then came the draft.

As stated I was not happy with the pick and lately I felt that we had done nothing but make terrible picks. I wanted to improve our situation but was Kevin Love really the one who was going to be able to do that for us?! As expected he did not have an all star type season that first year but he showed glimmers of being someone special, someone that could help me trust the TimberWolves again...

The following year we drafted 200 point guards, just to be safe apparently. Of those draft picks only Ricky Rubio and Wayne Ellington (not a point guard) are still on the team. I was still not sold, but the thought of Rubio coming to play in Minnesota gave me hope that one day I would love my home town team once again. Then there was the waiting and the debate, would Rubio ever really want to play for such a terrible team such as the Timberwolves. My self worth was quickly depleting and I really needed someone to reestablish my faith, as my feelings for my old love were slowly disappearing. Time really was healing my wounds. I once felt very strongly about our old flame KG but I was beginning to gain excitement about the possibility that this new Love might turn out to be something special, that as long as he found the right partner, hopefully in Rubio, they could do great things together.

We're in year one now of the Rubio/Love era and I find myself completely devoted once again. I still have some of KG's old things around my place, a few cards/posters and some of his clothes but I find myself less and less interested in them and have even thought about getting rid of them...but he is going to be a hall of famer after all and one day I want my kids to go to college! Hopefully the player that never went can help with that!

This past weekend I decided to spend the night with my new flames and had a wonderful time even though they didn't quite pull it out in the end they put forth an amazing effort and gave me something to look forward to in the future. Love has quickly become the stuff legends are made of and during the process has earned himself the nickname K-Bunyan or just K-Bun for short. It's not quite honey or sweetie pie, but we've come to the point where we're giving each other nick names and true love can't be far behind that...he calls me lumberjack stalker by the way.

K-Bun

 

In a totally unrelated note I can no longer visit him at his home.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Spread the Love!

The One

The present and up and coming blogs will be a series called "The One." There will be stories of today and of yesterday. You may learn something or you may not. So come along with me.

Who doesn’t want to be a sports icon? Maybe an NBA Superstar hitting the game winning three pointer at the buzzer, or a gridiron Megastar winning the Super Bowl on a two minute drive? You may also want to be a hero on the ice making a miracle goal during the shootout. Maybe you want to be the man who cranks out a grand slam during the World Series. We grow up as boys dreaming of these things, wishing, and hoping for just a chance. Yea, we maybe didn’t put in all the time that’s needed to make it there or maybe we weren’t born with all that talent. 

When it comes to professional athletes, we must remember that it’s a job. They have to go out there and perform by putting up big numbers and finally carry their teams to the Promise Land (Disney World). I may be a bit jealous of professional athletes – is it their money, their fame, their houses, their cars, or is it their reality TV shows? Most people would say one or all of the above. I must say none.

I am jealous of professional athletes’ celebrations – anything from the Lambeau Leap to the fake championship belt, or throwing three fingers in the air, or ropin’ the cattle.  Man, isn’t that the dream…something that we all wish we could do at our jobs – Acting like we have never done our jobs before. That is the dream isn’t it? Getting paid millions upon millions of dollas to act a foo.

So, after having this discussion at the Super Bowl, I have decided that from now on, I will be celebrating at work. After booking a loan, I will jump on my desk and do a salsa dance. After setting the most appointments at call night, I will do a quick stare down then chant, “Can’t Teach This.” Upon completing a financial review, I will tear my shirt open like Superman. After getting a loan declined, I will bitch to high Heaven, saying, “Do you know who I am?” Then I will attempt to get the call reversed. Upon leaving my managers office, I will do a quick Tebow.

In the midst of discussing this brilliant idea, my buddy Jason, who works for a funeral home, asks me, “Pat, how would you feel if I wheeled your grandma into the church, set the coffin up perfectly, then started my touchdown dance?” I looked at him and said, “It could be worse. She could have been cremated and you could have Lebron James’ed her…”

                           Image borrowed from http://esthersteinfeld.wordpress.com/2010/07/09/lebron-james-is-a-genius-haters-abound/

Is that the one? Straight to hell on that one

 

US Border Control: Canada

Perhaps you have noticed a Manitoba license plate on a vehicle in North Dakota or Minnesota recently? Perhaps the reason you noticed this was because the vehicle with that license plate just did one of the following:

1)    Cut you off because they thought a regular lane was a turning lane.

2)    Was driving either 10 mph too slow or 10 mph too fast, but seemingly avoided settling within the actual speed limit either way.

3)    Was driving the wrong way down a “One Way” street, and then honking at you for not doing the same.

4)    Parked their vehicle over 2 spots in the parking lot… and one of them was a handicap spot.

5)    And pretty much any other irritating reason that would lead you to check another vehicles license plate… I really can’t sit here and list every personal situation I have had with Canadian drivers… I have a job.

The point is though, Canadians are invading our country at an alarming rate and their stupidity is beginning to piss me off.  I know that when it comes to driving, plenty of US citizens need to have their rights taken away… but most Canadian drivers are just terrible regardless of age or gender.



Manatoba driver parks at the Fargo Target... and there were plenty of open spots.



And it doesn’t stop at just their driving habits either… sometimes they are just as dangerous on foot!  Today I was waiting for 10 minutes behind a Canadian at a convenient store because he didn’t have American money and I wanted to scream at them.. “No you cannot pay in Canadian currency… I don’t care if it’s worth the same as 1.0054 US Dollars… This is America, and in America we use dolla’ dolla’ bills ya’ll!”  It’s bad enough that I get a Canadian quarter intermingled in with my US coins from time to time.  You can’t use that crap in a vending machine, yet they still get circulated around somehow… and I really needed that Snickers!  Can’t you tell!?

Other Canadian disappointments include but are not limited to:

1)    Justin Morneau - (I love the Twins, but I would have personally traded Morneau before I would have traded Kubel)

2)    Celine Dion - (If you are a fan, then don’t talk to me… EVER!)

3)    Justin Bieber - (I bet you didn’t even know that he was Canadian did you!)

4)    Howie Mandel – (You tell me how else 72% of the “Deal -or- No Deal” winners were Canadians!... according a statistic that I just made up.  Either way, no one really likes him.)

5)    Again… I could go on forever.

However, I do not hate all Canadians.  Approximately 1 out of every 300 Canadians are exempt from the generalizations listed above.  So I leave you with this parting advice:  “Don’t judge a Canadian until you actually get to know them as individuals.  But understad that no matter how well you get to know them… you can never truly trust any of them.”

(Cue in the music “Born in the USA” by the BOSS!)

The K-Bun debate

This weekend a group of young, inspiring individuals will be attending a Minnesota Timberwolves vs. New York Knicks basketball game at the Target Center in Minneapolis. As some of my Facebook followers may know I have recently been trying to make the case that Kevin Love needs to be recognized as our generations Paul Bunyan. It isn't hard to imagine this as he is a big celebrity in Minnesota has a beard and stomps around a lot, not too different than the T-Wolves own Kevin Love.

The great debate comes from other die hard Minnesota fans since the Twins have already gone with a Paul Bunyan themed player commercial with Jim Thome. Here in Minnesota we love our Twins baseball, you simply don't mess with them or lefse. But the fact remains that Jim Thome simply does not have a beard. I should win the debate on that fact alone, but I will give you a few more here. Love is the center piece in a Minnesota team which is building its way into the stuff of legend...Paul Bunyan is real...right?

Jim Thome has no Beard...did I mention that? O.K. so he has that blue ox, but in Minnesota those are a dime a dozen, beard's don't just grow on trees...at least not all trees.

As long as Kevin Love has his beard and continues to play for the Timberwolves he will always draw comparison's to the famous woodsman, at least by me. This Saturday the group that will be attending the game with me will be sporting our red flannel shirts, maybe some fake beards and plenty of signs that read such things as, "K-Bun Fan Club," "Chop down those boards," and "I Like Ike." Tune into the game, watch the T-Wolves destroy the depleted Knicks and watch the birth of the legend that will be known as K-Bun!

(Other variations include P-Bun, but K-Bun will lead to the next great debate; "Is Kevin Love really the son of Paul Bunyan?!)

Last night

Last night was not a good night. It got started early with my dad and I running over to Grand Forks to get some more self leveling concrete for our current project of slowly filling in our entire basement until everything appears to be level...we may have to take the floor boards off the second level to get the tile in the basement. After checking several stores we decided that maybe next time we would consider calling before we run over there as they were out of what we needed...again.

When we arrived back in Red Lake Falls we picked up my nephew and niece to help them with their homework, which I found out was a map of the trail of tears...I should have taken it as a sign but I was just too damn proud. We finished up the map and then sent the kids home for the night so that I could mentally prepare (nap) for the city league game I was to play in that night. The night before I had too many thoughts of the previous weekends delightful banana daiquiri's and other events and was unable to sleep, maybe that was another sign of the night to follow?!

I awoke to find that the Timberwolves game had started and they were not looking good at all. K-Bun was serving the second game of his suspension and it appeared as though the rest of the team had joined him. I knew I had to get ready to head to Grand Forks but I was too busy staring at the train wreck in front of me. Jesse showed up around halftime at which point I figured I better get motivated and get away from this negative energy as I was beginning to sense that something was amiss...

The trip to Grand Forks was pretty uneventful but as we were getting closer our game time was also drawing nearer and nearer. We knew that we played at the closest gym possible so it wasn't a big deal, we should make it on time...but than the Timberwolves showed up again, or at least the train that they had attempted to wreck!

The arms slowly dropped down as we began to see our chances of making it to the game in time drop with them. Two conductors were in one train and as they slowly crept across the road I found myself telling Jesse that one time a train stopped in the middle of the road for quite a while when I was here...then it happened, I might as well have been the announcer that says, "He's been perfect from the line all season!" The train stopped and one of the conductors climbed slowly from train, walked as slow as he could to the control box to switch the track and then slowly back to the train. The pair then rode the train slowly back into the yard and repeated the process in order to finally get the arms raised, a mere 15 minutes later, but we were on the road again!

Every red light later we arrived at the gym to find our team already at play. It didn't take long before Jesse and I were able to get into the action sans warm-up. Within 30 seconds on the court I was fouled on a shot (because even though I wasn't warm, shooting's kind of my thing) and sent to the free throw line. The ball kind of felt like a brick in my hand and the two shots that followed affirmed my thoughts. The rest of the game didn't get too much better, I led the team in turnovers and was the only one on the team not to score, not due to lack of effort but more so talent. One of the opposing players did say I was good at boxing out though, but I kind of feel like he thought I could use a pick me up...which I totally didn't...Besides, I'm sure I'm good at boxing out...right?!

The highlight of the game was the fact that our birthday boy, Mike, went for 30 points, 30 rebounds, 22 assists, and 13 steals. I was keeping the stats so you know they're right too. Mike's biggest accomplishment of the night though was easily the fact that he finally caught me in age. For the past nine months I've been complaining about this and that and telling Mike to "wait until he got to be my age." We decided to go celebrate at the Blue Moose afterwards and as we arrived, literally as we walked through the door, Austin Rivers drained a three point shot as time expired for Duke to beat North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Not three seconds later a text message arrived from a Mr. Amberson, who happens to be a Duke fan, stating, "So good at sports." At first I thought he had seen our game but as I am a UNC fan I knew exactly what he meant...he's now dead to me.

After taking a verbal beat down for a while about the loss and my lack of productivity in our game we decided it was time to take the journey back to Red Lake Falls. It was nearing midnight at this time which meant that it would than be Jesse's 32nd birthday (old). As we were talking on the return trip, be it from being so old or maybe I'm just as terrible at conversation as I am at sports, Jesse fell asleep mid-conversation. It was the perfect end to a perfect night.

Keeping your cool at Applebee's

We've all been there... you're out with some friends at your neighborhood Applebee’s for an enjoyable time, and then… disaster strikes!

It starts with the fact that you had to drive to two other Applebee’s prior, but kept leaving because the others had too long of a wait time!  But finally you arrive and patiently wait as your party of 10-16 people gradually shows up.  Everyone gets seated at two tables before the server finally uses their head and gets one big table put together for the entire group.  Then individuals in the group start to joke sarcastically with the servers as they attempt to get us all organized/focused enough to order.

So everyone gets their orders in and it seems like smooth sailing from there... after all, in just a short matter of time we will all be enjoying a delicious food and some satisfying beverages right? 

....WRONG!   …this is when the night takes a turn for the terrible!!!

Maybe you luck out and it's something minimal where you just get a steak that is not to your liking?  Or... maybe you get super screwed over and your banana & strawberry shake that you ordered turns out to be JUST A BANANA SHAKE!  NO STRAWBERRY FLAVOR WHATSOEVER! 

Devastated by the forgetfulness of your server, you start to question yourself and ask your friends for conformation... "I ordered a banana & STRAWBERRY shake right?  I didn't order JUST a banana one did I?"  They will confirm that you have indeed been bamboozled!

Now the anger starts to set in.  Maybe it’s because you just got done losing 2 straight basketball games in a tournament that you should be dominating?  Maybe it’s because you have been drinking steadily for the last few days?  Maybe you just need a nap?  Or maybe all of the above are to blame?  Nevertheless, at this point you have 3 options…

A)  You can calmly, or angrily, ask your server to get you a new beverage that is the correct one you ordered.

2)  You can let it go and just cut your losses gracefully.

D)  You can hold your anger back from the server and instead let it fester until you explode and start to complain about everything to everyone.  You will constantly bring up the "banana shake incident" and use it against your friends when they slightly comment about their "under seasoned shrimp" or a "steak that is a little too chewy".  You will yell in front of people you hardly know and make your wife wish she didn’t know you!  And eventually, you will find yourself in the corner with a steak knife in your hand... as your friends attempt to talk you down.


Lucky for my friends, I chose the high road and reacted according to option #2.

THE END! 
(PS. Any other stories you may hear about a similar incident are false!  This is what happened, and others will only tell you different to slander my good name!)

Reason's Why we are...

First of all if you've found this blog then you're probably one of the people that are helping to write it! If not then a bit of an explanation may be in order to gain your trust so that later we can shatter your world. You must first understand that we of Banana Daiquiri's and Life Lessons are idiots who have way too much time on our hands, one of us in particular... We're a group of friends who really think we're funny and want to share just how funny we are with the rest of the blogisphere. I guess you could say we're the next Douglas Bubbletrousers. This blog will be written by a group, we will have several contributors and many different perspectives so that you don't need to make any decisions for yourself any more. Simply get up, read this blog and do as we say to live your life to the fullest...or maybe just tune in as we work our butt's off to make you laugh.

Today's topic: Why Cat's make the perfect gifts

Over this past weekend I determined that I was going to become the worst gift giver ever. In order to do this I needed to come up with the perfect gift and of course I went right to our feline friends. For those of you who don't own a cat you might not understand just how fantastic it is to get a brand new Alway's Sunny in Philadelphia "Kitten Mitten's" t-shirt and then find it later covered with cat poop. Let's just say cat's can be a tough crowd. Over the day's we determined that cat's would make the perfect gift we have since put our researcher on the topic and he has found several good articles for you to read over. Here are links to two of these articles:

http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fnews.yahoo.com%2Fcats-world-suddenly-died-145802016.html&h=pAQGBWxeDAQGpjtuzL9x2XZ8GhYpk_TuR9RxJcfCnsjyv8g

http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fcats.about.com%2Fod%2Famyshojai%2Fa%2FHow-to-Give-Cats-as-Gifts.htm&h=rAQGRa8TIAQG6r3BIxAY63KVignlgkboPm7nuBX1pYxb8jA

The bottom line is that a cat will certainly be exactly what that special someone will be hoping for come this Valentine's Day.

Remember, don't think about it...just buy it.

As there are many people who will be contributing to this blog you will definitely see many different styles and could see several different blogs a day. Feel free to comment on anything we write and ask us questions which we will later answer in other blogs! We're here for you, our fan (Kate Middleton), so feel free to get involved!

p.s. I hope the package arrived in time for your wedding!