Oh Jacobellis, What Were You Thinking?

I just had to dedicate a post to the US Curling Team who secured a Bronze Medal this morning in Torino. Fenson, Rojeski, Shuster and Polo defied expectations of mediocrity to bring the US its first ever medal in curling. This quirky little sport caught my attention at the beginning of the year's games, and quickly had me enthralled. The game is more complex than I ever could have imagined, and has a huge international following. The Bronze Medal Round was interrupted by a streaker running across the ice, prompting a cacophony of laughter from the participants. Perhaps the best thing about the sport is that it isn't carried out by egotistical superstars. Fenson owns a pizza shop in Bemidji, Minnesota. Rojeski and Polo are engineers, and Shuster works at Home Depot. The team members, of all the teams actually, behaved a complete gentleman throughout every match I watched. At the Olympics every Curling participant wears a microphone that is turned on for the entire match. Some of those guys are downright funny. Anyway, congrats to the team and I look forward to cheering them on again in four years.

Vote Rover Update

After having met with the Bilderbergers and The Skulls I have finalized my gubernatorial campaign platform. Things have changed a bit since I initially announced my candidacy. My chief selling point in the campaign was going to be my proposed invasion of New Jersey. However, early polling information shows that the average Pennsylvanian does not want New Jersey. More accurately, they do not want all of New Jersey. PA residents do want beach front property. New Jersey has a large amount of beach front property. So how do we get New Jersey's beach front property without encumbering ourselves with the rest of the state? Paratroopers. That's right, a strategic drop on the coast line would provide our residents with an island like paradise just a few hours from home. Some might ask where our state will acquire said paratroopers, as we currently don't have any. This is a good time to bring up my economic stimulus package. By increasing our manufacturing capacity to meet the needs of the new military units we can create more jobs in PA and stop the outflow to other states. Planned manufactured surplus can be sold of to small third world countries embroiled in conflicts with their own populace. How will we fund this massive industrial push? It is a bit of a complex process, but I will attempt to explain. First we will sell Philadelphia to New Jersey (we can always take it back later, if we want to). Using the funds from the "Philly Transaction" we will produce enough military units for an invasion of Maine. Why Maine? Maine in itself may appear to be a massive woodland occupied entirely of rednecks and potheads that has no actual value. This is true when we consider the values of the average hard working Pennsylvanian. However, to the Canadians Maine is a land of long lost friends and relatives. It is a veritable gold mine. We will sell Maine to the Canadians county by county. More profit that way. With these funds we will be able to complete our invasion. If elected this fall I promise the people of Pennsylvania that we will be basking on the beach by Spring!

Eventually We All Realize That We're Dorks.

As much as my income and schedule permit I try to live an exciting life. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. I've willingly shared the water with a tiger shark off the coast of Mexico, and not so willingly fought a cobra for the rights to a basketball court in Nigeria. I've frequently been popular with the ladies, and seldom passed on an adventure. I always thought of myself as a pretty hip guy. That misconception came shattering to the ground this past Monday night. I found myself in the smoke-filled back room of a bar that was frighteningly close to the Three Mile Island power plant. I was there to watch a coworker's dart tournament, but quickly found myself more enthralled with the kid in the corner nursing a Miller Lite. He couldn't have been a day over fourteen. The tournament was uninspiring, and was predictably won by the pony-tailed behemoth who had to be on vacation from the WWE. Was he the best player? No, but he was the biggest. As I sat there, I began to realize that the fourteen year old in the corner was not getting the attention that I thought he may have deserved. In fact, most of the attention was directed towards me. I guess my first mistake was the Corona. If it comes from Mexico, is the color of goat urine, and must be consumed with a lime you can assume it will not be welcome at your typical "down home" bar. My next mistake? Not learning from the looks given after the first mistake. By ordering Coronas #2 and #3 I ensured that no one in the room missed noticing my drink of preference. As the room slowly chilled to my presence, my mind began to wander. Eventually my thoughts settled on my home DVD collection. If I left the bar immediately I could still get home in time to watch my newly acquired documentary on Benedict Arnold. That's when it hit me. I am a dork. I could have thrown down a twenty, order shots of Jack all around, and been a local hero by morning. Instead I threw on my jacket and rushed home to watch a video about a guy who died 200 years ago. If my fellow bar goers had only known. I deserved the looks. Not because of the Corona, but because I am a nerd, a tool, a book reader. I hang my head in shame.

Heart of Darkness On Speed.

I just finished reading Ugly Americans by Ben Mezrich. Mezrich claims its the true story of John Malcolm (not the dude's real name), an American who made millions trading stocks on the Asian markets in the 1990s. On the one hand I find the story a bit hard to believe because it is just so wild. This stuff is movie material. Malcolm and his cohorts flaunted million dollar portfolios, raced Ducatis and Ferraris, dated Japanese supermodels, and didn't even blink when coworkers went down with billions in debt. The story is almost unbelievable because I just can't relate to that world. Who wrecks a Ducati at 140mph while fleeing Yakuza gangsters, returns to work in two days, and is back out racing a brand new (literally hours old) Ferrari less than a year later? These guys worked and lived by a set of rules, the final and most telling is "The ends justify the means, but there's only one end that really matters. Ending up on a beach with a bottle of champagne." On the other hand the story is incredibly believable. John Malcolm turns out to be a really good guy who got caught up in his boss's twisted variation on the American Dream. Their relationship was a painful reminder of one of my previous employers. In the end the story is about a kid from New Jersey who didn't want to lead the typical lifestyle, found out that the hotshot life isn't all its cracked up to be, and made out very well in the process. It is a very entertaining book if anyone wants to borrow it, but don't if you can't handle a smattering of profanity and immorality.

The Plane IS Guarded By Navy SEALs

Last night Brechty and I were treated (?) to the film Into The Blue. Yeah. Bad. If not for the beautiful Jessica Alba the entire film seemed pointless. In fact, Jessica Alba was the only cast member that Brechty and I wouldn't have fired had we been in charge of the film. The costume director would have stayed as well. I do have to say that the cinematography was quite stunning, and not just because of Alba. I recommend this film for all to see for one reason alone. The deleted scenes. Specifically one scene entitled "Ambush at the Trailer." In this scene Alba and her beau return to their trailer to find a strange man ransacking it. There is a humorous door hitting head shot followed by a short foot chase. By short I mean about three seconds. In that amount of time the mystery attacker manages to cross about 70 feet of water, get into a boat, and start the engine before his pursuer even reaches the water's edge. The kicker? The surface of the water remains mirror calm. The creators of this film unknowingly discovered the greatest jumper of our time!!