Monday, December 12, 2005


So many new readers today... you sure do know how to give a nerd some love.

In return, may I give you this?

Sorry to those of you who've already seen it. Just figured I'd share.


So, where was I? Oh, yes... waking up at 6am on Sunday morning... if you can call it that. I don't remember ever really being asleep, though I suppose I must have drifted off a few times, somehow.

I woke up cold... and listening to Jill's nasal passages flapping, keeping time like some sort of Satanic metronome. And oh, yes... there was the small matter of Megan's cats (who I otherwise thought were pretty cool) stepping on my eyeballs.

Not literally. Not really.

So anyway, at this point, I knew I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep... and so, as I'd warned Jill I might do... I just took off. I was somewhat amazed that I was able to find all my shit and get out... there wasn't much room to move in Megan's room (being unfamiliar with it, and there being an air mattress taking up half the room, and... you get the picture).

Hopping down the ladder was a bit of a chore before the morning coffee had even been made.

All that being said, allow me to repeat: you should have seen this place. I wish I could have a place that was even 1/8 that cool.


I'd probably fuck it up somehow.


I only made 3 miles' worth of wrong turns in Brooklyn at 6am (thanks to the jackass gas station attendant who sent me 180 degrees away from where I needed to be going)... which, all things considered, was pretty damned good. I quickly found Sporting News Radio (though strangely, not WFAN, which was in infomercial mode), got myself to the Belt Parkway, and drove home to Philly in light to non-existent traffic. As I got close, I called the 'rents to see if they minded the unexpected drop-in... happilly, they did not.

The worst thing about the drive-- the only real bad thing-- was that, out of nowhere, I had to drive through more than ten miles' worth of fog. Heavy fog. Like what you might have seen in Fargo.

Not pleasant on the Jersey Turnpike, when you're not awake yet. Thankfully, it was almost 8am... late in my day, you know?


Anyway, I got home in one piece, rested up, hung out a bit... and got myself a cheesesteak.

What more could a mama's boy like me want?

Mom and Dad were doing great, and we had a great time-- a good four hours or more-- before I headed out for phase #8432 of my weekend... the dreaded Eagles game.


As I've said in these pages (oh, God, shut the hell up) before, I was not looking forward to the game itself all that much, as the Eagles have been in the shitter for weeks now. I was really going to hang with an old friend, and to play catch up. The game was almost (almost) irrelevant... again, solely because they'd all but been eliminated from playoff contention.

It's hard to describe the mindset of the Eagles fan right now... "Funereal"?

That said, I was incredibly happy to watch the team play hard, especially after they quit last Monday night in the 42-0 loss to the Seahawks. It was a great game to be at, and though it got pretty cold as the night went on... it really wasn't that bad. The winds were barely present, and thankfully, I'd/we'd dressed appropriately enough.

Dave was doing really well, but we didn't end up talking all that much. I think by this point in the weekend, we were both a bit worn out. Me, from driving to Brooklyn and back, and not getting much sleep, and Dave from going to a toy train convention with his father earlier that morning. ;)

He picked up a caboose, in case you were wondering.

Anyway, we had a great time, and enough stories were told to more than make the time go by during the game's few slow parts. I had a much better time than I feared I was going to (again, having nothing to do with Dave, and everything to do with the fact that I was expecting sub-zero temperatures and sub-zero performance by the Birds).

There was one letdown, though... there were very, very few fights. There were more than enough blue jerseys in the stands to warrant punches being thrown... but all it really was was Philly drunks talking shit. Half-heartedly. I guess that's what happens when your team sucks.

I'd pretty much forgotten.

There were two women who got thrown out of the stadium, however, for giving a performance to everyone in the stadium... or at least our section.

Since when did flashing thousands of men at a time (repeatedly) earn you a ticket to the gulag? Isn't this America???

Who's with me?!?


Thankfully, the drive home was uneventful... I got out of the parking lot in near record time, and with precious few heart palpitations/near accidents.

Once I got to Wilmington, most of the game traffic had subsided, and I was on my way. A quick call to Jill to let her know where I was, and that was that.

Hell, I even slept like a baby when I got home.


Congratulations to my baby sister. Let me introduce you to my nephew-to-be, Seamus Aidan Sean Patrick Flannigan O'Leary...


the national - mr. november
the new pornographers - the bleeding heart show
explosions in the sky - the only moment we were alone
belle & sebastian - the blues are still blue
super furry animals - something 4 the weekend

No comments: