Strange week. Strange, strange week. OK, so I beat the hell out of myself this weekend. I missed the gym on Saturday and Monday, probably drank a wee too much on Friday and Saturday, and ate like it was my last meal. I didn't get enough sleep and I didn't drink enough water. I should be ashamed of myself. With that said, it was Memorial Day Weekend and that's what it's here for. And, of course, to remember our fallen soldiers. Although, I think they deserve more than a day.
I feel no remorse for my extended weekend and I'm left to pick up the pieces, all of which I'm at peace with. We have begun a new week, with a 17 mile bike ride on Monday afternoon and a gym visit bright and early this morning. I'm back on my "Quest for 170". The Gods have rewarded me for my bounceback. Again, the Gods miss nothing.
Previous Weight: 182.4 lbs.
Current Weight: 179.8 lbs.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
The Weigh In: Week 5
You know how I said last week that the gods must have given me a get out of jail free card? Well, they forget nothing. After a weekend of Bud Lights and french fries, those in the know have shown me who's boss. We ran into a couple of snags this week, as the schedule was less than accommodating, allergy season is truly in full bloom, and Men's Health decided to change their website, thereby making our workout nonexistent. With that said, I creatively fit in all workouts this week. I was extremely screwed up in the food and beverage category, and I'm paying the price. They say that nutrition is 75% of fitness, and that fact has reared its ugly head.
Previous Weight: 179.4 lbs.
Current Weight: 182.6 lbs.
Previous Weight: 179.4 lbs.
Current Weight: 182.6 lbs.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Missing: Wallet, pride, dignity...
Ahh, the bachelor party. An event as time honored as the wedding itself. If you're a male, you've been there before. You've gotten the call, and put yourself completely at the mercy of the best man. You surrender the right to make decisions, as well as any opportunity to tell someone that the decision that has been made for you is out of your budget.
I hate bachelor parties. I have worn a tuxedo to 15 different weddings, so the sample size is large enough for my word to be considered credible. I mean, who made this thing up, anyway? I have my theories, the strongest being that the first bachelor party was orchestrated by a best man who didn't approve of the wife-to-be all that much, so he tried to fit as many obstacles as he could on his way to the alter. He filled a night with beer, liquor, strippers, hookers, cigarettes, weed, cocaine, and the worst influences possible and he did it an hour or more away from home, so nobody would know about it except for the unlucky folks in the room.
I will never understand this tradition. It's been said that the purpose of the bachelor party is to get what's remaining of the sins out of your system and allow the groom-to-be one last chance to bark at the moon, so to speak. The inherent flaw with that explanation is that most of these things would never have been done if not for a bachelor party. In other words, if not for the bachelor party, never in my life would I drink from morning until night, nor would I be in the presence of "ladies of the night". If I had never been to a bach, my mind would have comfortably believed that the only prostitutes in America were in Las Vegas (I have HBO). However, because of these cleansing exercises, I actually get dirtier by what I'm exposed to.
I live a pretty clean life, which means that this shit kills me. I think I slept for 25 minutes last night, using my bunched up J Crew jeans for a pillow, and the carpet for a bed. I won't get into the details of the party, because it's a bit of a cardinal sin to speak of the events, but there were six different levels of debauchery involved with my running mates and I firmly believe that I'm a worse person today because of it. Really, is that a way to go through life?
Bachelor parties have become the great equalizer. How's your health? Did you finally quit smoking? Have you saved up some money? Have you found God? Well, guess what? Everything you worked on since the last bach last September is about to go to shit. And why? Because the best man has decided to put you on the guest list. It's been said that you can only go as fast as the slowest member of the herd. In bachelor parties, the opposite actually applies. If the best man does rails like a Hollywood producer and makes just as much as one, well, cash in your 401(k). It's going to be a long night. You need to roll like he rolls and he LOVES bachelor parties.
I don't drink much these days, and I like it like that. My life is gaining shape and I'm confident of its path. I go to the gym 3-4 days a week and I eat the right things and I say the right things to the right people. Well, yesterday morning, I met with 14 other people intent on making one unsuspecting gentleman's life heaven (or is it hell?). I was $500 ahead of budget, courtesy of a few long nights working at the bar. My clothes were ironed, my sinuses were clear, my teeth were brushed, and my breath was fresh. I was well rested and I had just come from the gym. This morning came and I'm now $2 ahead of budget, my eyes are itchy, I'm sneezing, I feel fat, and I smell a bit, due to a steady stream of Jagermeister and Bud Light. Tomorrow, I restart my world and rebuild my mental, physical, and financial health. And the moment it's all rebuilt, you can be sure I'll be getting an email telling me I'm going to Montreal for a weekend and I need to send a check for $800 to someone I don't even like.
This is a tradition I can do without, but I never will, because somebody out there likes them, and they're the one that's planning the next party.
I hate bachelor parties. I have worn a tuxedo to 15 different weddings, so the sample size is large enough for my word to be considered credible. I mean, who made this thing up, anyway? I have my theories, the strongest being that the first bachelor party was orchestrated by a best man who didn't approve of the wife-to-be all that much, so he tried to fit as many obstacles as he could on his way to the alter. He filled a night with beer, liquor, strippers, hookers, cigarettes, weed, cocaine, and the worst influences possible and he did it an hour or more away from home, so nobody would know about it except for the unlucky folks in the room.
I will never understand this tradition. It's been said that the purpose of the bachelor party is to get what's remaining of the sins out of your system and allow the groom-to-be one last chance to bark at the moon, so to speak. The inherent flaw with that explanation is that most of these things would never have been done if not for a bachelor party. In other words, if not for the bachelor party, never in my life would I drink from morning until night, nor would I be in the presence of "ladies of the night". If I had never been to a bach, my mind would have comfortably believed that the only prostitutes in America were in Las Vegas (I have HBO). However, because of these cleansing exercises, I actually get dirtier by what I'm exposed to.
I live a pretty clean life, which means that this shit kills me. I think I slept for 25 minutes last night, using my bunched up J Crew jeans for a pillow, and the carpet for a bed. I won't get into the details of the party, because it's a bit of a cardinal sin to speak of the events, but there were six different levels of debauchery involved with my running mates and I firmly believe that I'm a worse person today because of it. Really, is that a way to go through life?
Bachelor parties have become the great equalizer. How's your health? Did you finally quit smoking? Have you saved up some money? Have you found God? Well, guess what? Everything you worked on since the last bach last September is about to go to shit. And why? Because the best man has decided to put you on the guest list. It's been said that you can only go as fast as the slowest member of the herd. In bachelor parties, the opposite actually applies. If the best man does rails like a Hollywood producer and makes just as much as one, well, cash in your 401(k). It's going to be a long night. You need to roll like he rolls and he LOVES bachelor parties.
I don't drink much these days, and I like it like that. My life is gaining shape and I'm confident of its path. I go to the gym 3-4 days a week and I eat the right things and I say the right things to the right people. Well, yesterday morning, I met with 14 other people intent on making one unsuspecting gentleman's life heaven (or is it hell?). I was $500 ahead of budget, courtesy of a few long nights working at the bar. My clothes were ironed, my sinuses were clear, my teeth were brushed, and my breath was fresh. I was well rested and I had just come from the gym. This morning came and I'm now $2 ahead of budget, my eyes are itchy, I'm sneezing, I feel fat, and I smell a bit, due to a steady stream of Jagermeister and Bud Light. Tomorrow, I restart my world and rebuild my mental, physical, and financial health. And the moment it's all rebuilt, you can be sure I'll be getting an email telling me I'm going to Montreal for a weekend and I need to send a check for $800 to someone I don't even like.
This is a tradition I can do without, but I never will, because somebody out there likes them, and they're the one that's planning the next party.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Just an ordinary day
When I started this little site of mine, I really hit the ground running. Then life sped up and writing took a backseat to the tiny nuances of the everyday world. I'm starting this blog at 8:36 AM and I have no idea where it will go. Perhaps it will be random words on a page. Maybe thoughts as they stroll in. Maybe just a list. This is my workday...
8:39- I forced myself into tolerating oatmeal about 3 months ago in my neverending quest to see 170 on the Weighmaster 2000. Three months later, this is the worst part of my workday.
8:46- Until about 4 months ago, I, admittedly, didn't take very good care of my teeth/gums. I spent a lot of money to correct that situation and now I'm back to square one. With oatmeal safely digested, I took the floss and toothbrush out of my personal drawer at my desk and went to work on the pearls. Contents of personal drawer, you ask? Two bottles of nasal spray, Visine, Airborne, a pain relieving patch, an inhaler, hair molding paste (that doesn't sound healthy), one a day vitamins, two rolls of floss, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and two packs of gum. The only thing missing is a toilet, a shower, and a rubber duckie.
10:16- Wednesday is training day. Today's topic was about document processing. Most of these trainings go about 45 minutes, but this one was a touch more extensive. Here's a rule of thumb for anyone involved in multiple meetings a week, and listen up because it's important. Never, ever, ever sit behind the guy doing all the talking. If you're stuck there, you're not afforded the liberty of an occasional doze-off or space out. This was my world for the past 75 minutes.
10:36- My world is being dictated by my allergies right now. They have total control and they know it. My allergies tell me to get up and blow my nose, I do it. Need me to tilt my head back/ You got it. Want me to put my thumb and index finger on both sides of my nose, as to make a pinching motion? No problem. I am completely at your mercy today. Awesome!
10:55- We have reached the point of my day when I catch up on the sports news of the world. I have been entreated by a special morning edition of the SportsGuy on ESPN. And the colored girls sing do do-do do-do do do do do...
11:09- Mmmmmm, string cheese...
11:10- I have reached goal for the week. There is no greater feeling than making goal while you're reading a nonsensical sports article on the company dime. And then I wiped the sweat off my brow with company stationary.
11:36- This is the part of the day (well Part I, anyway) where I start to feel the effects of waking up for the gym at 5:30 this morning. I hate that place. Right now, I kinda hate this place, too.
11:48- I just spent three minutes trying to come up with a Subject for an email. Ultimately, I did a cost benefit on the project and went with "Relyco Pressure Seal". This is why they pay me what they do, folks.
12:07- I'm a Maroon 5 guy, but just a minute ago, I officially got sick of listening to them. For good. To the IPod, and onto another guy whose songs all sound the same, Mr. Jack Johnson.
12:33- So, I was upstairs mulling over my lunch choice (tuna on multi), and a lovely, lovely young lady stands next to me. She's what my ideal would look like if I constructed her. She walks the delicate line between plain and fashionable. She's unassuming, yet confident. She makes my heart race. She asks me if I'm waiting in line, and while I'm thinking "No, but let me buy you lunch. My name is Scott", what actually comes out is "I can't decide. Go ahead of my if you'd like". Sure, that's gonna win her over. It's unconfirmed, but rumor has it I sounded like Barney the Dinosaur while saying it. That's the first and probably the last time I'll see that girl. And that, my friend(s), is why I'm single.
1:02- I think I'm Jack Johnson'ed, as well. I've never been enamored with him, but I wanted to take the new album out for a spin. Not surprisingly, it sounds just like the last album and the one before that and the two before that one.
1:14- I'm working on a quote for a major medical center and they just sent me the samples for what I need to quote, after a long layoff where I thought the account was dead. I swear, by my reaction, you would have thought it was nudy magazine day in the office. These are the things I get pumped over now.
1:59- Taking time away from my oh-so busy work schedule, I checked ESPN to see if the news had changed at all. I see that a US Senator has decided that he wants to launch an investigation into the New England Patriots videotaping practices. This is what the United States is paying Sen. Arlen Specter of PA for. Are you kidding me? I know that professional sports are big business, but how is this use of labor justified by the United States government? I need this story to finally go away after 9 grueling months, because I'm become a very, very cranky young man.
2:14- This is the time that I start to check out. My brother comes home from work, so I talk to him On The G (Google IM, for you AOLers). Also, I'm the commissioner of my fantasy baseball league, so the emails start to pour in for trade offers and lineup problems about this time in the afternoon. Right on cue...
3:02- I hate bill collectors. I have two bills that have been due for years now. It's actually gotten to a point where it's more beneficial to NOT pay them than it is to hand the money over. I just got back to back calls from both of them today. I actually had an ongoing conversation with one of them a few weeks ago. I do that sometimes when I'm bored. He anticipates that I'll come at him in a venomous manor and I end up just asking him about the weather and TV and what not. He became completely diffused.
3:34- Mmmmmm, string cheese...
3:37- I need a day off. This is exhausting.
4:03- http://nh.craigslist.org/car/680153347.html . That's all I have to say about that.
4:17- It has come to the time of day when I look around the room for things to occupy my time, making certain not to look any superiors in the eye for fear that they might find a chore for me. This is the life of a salesperson. Do as little as possible. The way I see it, this kind of action (or lack thereof) is what keeps me fresh when I get on the phone with someone. If only I could convince them of this.
4:27- Thanks for sticking with me through this arduous exercise called work. You've really made it go by a little faster, and I feel better about neglecting to write for the past couple of weeks. A rare double win! I'm usually a much better writer than this, but really, is there anything better than the voyeuristic viewpoint you've had into my daily life today? Probably.
8:39- I forced myself into tolerating oatmeal about 3 months ago in my neverending quest to see 170 on the Weighmaster 2000. Three months later, this is the worst part of my workday.
8:46- Until about 4 months ago, I, admittedly, didn't take very good care of my teeth/gums. I spent a lot of money to correct that situation and now I'm back to square one. With oatmeal safely digested, I took the floss and toothbrush out of my personal drawer at my desk and went to work on the pearls. Contents of personal drawer, you ask? Two bottles of nasal spray, Visine, Airborne, a pain relieving patch, an inhaler, hair molding paste (that doesn't sound healthy), one a day vitamins, two rolls of floss, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and two packs of gum. The only thing missing is a toilet, a shower, and a rubber duckie.
10:16- Wednesday is training day. Today's topic was about document processing. Most of these trainings go about 45 minutes, but this one was a touch more extensive. Here's a rule of thumb for anyone involved in multiple meetings a week, and listen up because it's important. Never, ever, ever sit behind the guy doing all the talking. If you're stuck there, you're not afforded the liberty of an occasional doze-off or space out. This was my world for the past 75 minutes.
10:36- My world is being dictated by my allergies right now. They have total control and they know it. My allergies tell me to get up and blow my nose, I do it. Need me to tilt my head back/ You got it. Want me to put my thumb and index finger on both sides of my nose, as to make a pinching motion? No problem. I am completely at your mercy today. Awesome!
10:55- We have reached the point of my day when I catch up on the sports news of the world. I have been entreated by a special morning edition of the SportsGuy on ESPN. And the colored girls sing do do-do do-do do do do do...
11:09- Mmmmmm, string cheese...
11:10- I have reached goal for the week. There is no greater feeling than making goal while you're reading a nonsensical sports article on the company dime. And then I wiped the sweat off my brow with company stationary.
11:36- This is the part of the day (well Part I, anyway) where I start to feel the effects of waking up for the gym at 5:30 this morning. I hate that place. Right now, I kinda hate this place, too.
11:48- I just spent three minutes trying to come up with a Subject for an email. Ultimately, I did a cost benefit on the project and went with "Relyco Pressure Seal". This is why they pay me what they do, folks.
12:07- I'm a Maroon 5 guy, but just a minute ago, I officially got sick of listening to them. For good. To the IPod, and onto another guy whose songs all sound the same, Mr. Jack Johnson.
12:33- So, I was upstairs mulling over my lunch choice (tuna on multi), and a lovely, lovely young lady stands next to me. She's what my ideal would look like if I constructed her. She walks the delicate line between plain and fashionable. She's unassuming, yet confident. She makes my heart race. She asks me if I'm waiting in line, and while I'm thinking "No, but let me buy you lunch. My name is Scott", what actually comes out is "I can't decide. Go ahead of my if you'd like". Sure, that's gonna win her over. It's unconfirmed, but rumor has it I sounded like Barney the Dinosaur while saying it. That's the first and probably the last time I'll see that girl. And that, my friend(s), is why I'm single.
1:02- I think I'm Jack Johnson'ed, as well. I've never been enamored with him, but I wanted to take the new album out for a spin. Not surprisingly, it sounds just like the last album and the one before that and the two before that one.
1:14- I'm working on a quote for a major medical center and they just sent me the samples for what I need to quote, after a long layoff where I thought the account was dead. I swear, by my reaction, you would have thought it was nudy magazine day in the office. These are the things I get pumped over now.
1:59- Taking time away from my oh-so busy work schedule, I checked ESPN to see if the news had changed at all. I see that a US Senator has decided that he wants to launch an investigation into the New England Patriots videotaping practices. This is what the United States is paying Sen. Arlen Specter of PA for. Are you kidding me? I know that professional sports are big business, but how is this use of labor justified by the United States government? I need this story to finally go away after 9 grueling months, because I'm become a very, very cranky young man.
2:14- This is the time that I start to check out. My brother comes home from work, so I talk to him On The G (Google IM, for you AOLers). Also, I'm the commissioner of my fantasy baseball league, so the emails start to pour in for trade offers and lineup problems about this time in the afternoon. Right on cue...
3:02- I hate bill collectors. I have two bills that have been due for years now. It's actually gotten to a point where it's more beneficial to NOT pay them than it is to hand the money over. I just got back to back calls from both of them today. I actually had an ongoing conversation with one of them a few weeks ago. I do that sometimes when I'm bored. He anticipates that I'll come at him in a venomous manor and I end up just asking him about the weather and TV and what not. He became completely diffused.
3:34- Mmmmmm, string cheese...
3:37- I need a day off. This is exhausting.
4:03- http://nh.craigslist.org/car/680153347.html . That's all I have to say about that.
4:17- It has come to the time of day when I look around the room for things to occupy my time, making certain not to look any superiors in the eye for fear that they might find a chore for me. This is the life of a salesperson. Do as little as possible. The way I see it, this kind of action (or lack thereof) is what keeps me fresh when I get on the phone with someone. If only I could convince them of this.
4:27- Thanks for sticking with me through this arduous exercise called work. You've really made it go by a little faster, and I feel better about neglecting to write for the past couple of weeks. A rare double win! I'm usually a much better writer than this, but really, is there anything better than the voyeuristic viewpoint you've had into my daily life today? Probably.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
The Weigh In: Week 4
I was doing so well, too. I was eating the proper amount of proteins every day, having my turkey sandwich for lunch every day with a fruit, using string cheese and yogurt as in-between snacks, trying to keep the carbs down...then the weekend happened and everything went to shit. Eating, drinking, eating, drinking for 48 straight hours. Needless to say, I was a little concerned walking up to the Weighmaster 2000 yesterday.
The workouts are getting a little more intimidating and lengthy, but I'm up to the challenge. I made it to all workouts and can honestly say that I gave everything that I had while I was in that smelly little joint. Last week, I weighed in at 179.4 pounds. This week...
Current weight: 179.4 pounds
(I think the health gods gave me a get out of jail free card this week)
The workouts are getting a little more intimidating and lengthy, but I'm up to the challenge. I made it to all workouts and can honestly say that I gave everything that I had while I was in that smelly little joint. Last week, I weighed in at 179.4 pounds. This week...
Current weight: 179.4 pounds
(I think the health gods gave me a get out of jail free card this week)
Monday, May 5, 2008
The Weigh In: Week 2 (With a Kick)
So, I got home tonight at around 8 or so and have spent the last 3 1/2 hours doing, um, nothing. Yup, nothing. Well, as I'm getting off my duff to go to bed, I come to realize that I have yet to write a word on this screen you see here. Now, normally, I'd let it pass, but I know I'll be hearing it in the morning if I don't, from my most committed (and vocal, and, perhaps, only) reader. So here I am, for you, the reader.
Before I delve into another session of "Fit or Fat?", something strange happened tonight which I think is share-worthy. I was cooking some dinner (which I'm wont to do from time to time) and I received an email from a gal I used to tutor in math when I was in college. She was sent to an old edition of the Concord Monitor for some charity event, and wouldn't you know it, it was the same one I was on the front page of!
(Sidebar for story clarification: When I was 15, I stole candy from an unsuspecting child on a dare. I tried to find him that night, but to no avail. It had haunted me for 17 years, so I decided to create a search for the kid this past Halloween. An article was written about me and it landed on the front page of the Concord Monitor. Sad, but true, story).
I had a man-sized crush on this math-challenged Italian for some time, but the timing was wrong. I was dating someone at that point. Plus, I think I could get 2-4 for dating my student, even if it was just a tutor position. Actually, there probably aren't any rules on that because tutors can't find anyone to date and/or sleep with them. Yet I digress...
So, she comes back into my world tonight and I'm going out with her this weekend. Details to follow? Probably not. Maybe if I get any evidence that anyone but Kate is reading this. Really, I can just call her with details if I want to.
Onto the session. Once again, I didn't eat as I should have. I eat crappily (it's a word) over the
weekend and feel like I'm starting at Square Uno on Mondays. Today, and for the next 6 weeks, will involve no alcoholic beverages and a commitment to this plan. Anything worth doin' is worth doin' right, right? Um, right?
I had three great workouts this past week. Saturdays are starting to step up. This past Saturday was what a ride would feel like at Six Flags Hell. It was about 20 minutes of sheer pain and off we went. The only thing missing was the little water spraying nozzles that are available to those waiting in line for 5 hours for the 3 minute ride. I hate that place.
(Yes, I'm aware that I'm all over the place today.)
This workout is moderately challenging. I have never sweat so much doing anything in my whole life than I do with this little plan. I swear to you it's true. It's disgusting. My sweat is sweating. I love to sweat, as it gives me a sense of accomplishment, but I don't think anyone in the vacinity appreciates it as much.
Here's to hoping that this week, I stick to the turkey sandwiches and the grilled chicken...
My weight: 179.4 lbs.
Before I delve into another session of "Fit or Fat?", something strange happened tonight which I think is share-worthy. I was cooking some dinner (which I'm wont to do from time to time) and I received an email from a gal I used to tutor in math when I was in college. She was sent to an old edition of the Concord Monitor for some charity event, and wouldn't you know it, it was the same one I was on the front page of!
(Sidebar for story clarification: When I was 15, I stole candy from an unsuspecting child on a dare. I tried to find him that night, but to no avail. It had haunted me for 17 years, so I decided to create a search for the kid this past Halloween. An article was written about me and it landed on the front page of the Concord Monitor. Sad, but true, story).
I had a man-sized crush on this math-challenged Italian for some time, but the timing was wrong. I was dating someone at that point. Plus, I think I could get 2-4 for dating my student, even if it was just a tutor position. Actually, there probably aren't any rules on that because tutors can't find anyone to date and/or sleep with them. Yet I digress...
So, she comes back into my world tonight and I'm going out with her this weekend. Details to follow? Probably not. Maybe if I get any evidence that anyone but Kate is reading this. Really, I can just call her with details if I want to.
Onto the session. Once again, I didn't eat as I should have. I eat crappily (it's a word) over the
weekend and feel like I'm starting at Square Uno on Mondays. Today, and for the next 6 weeks, will involve no alcoholic beverages and a commitment to this plan. Anything worth doin' is worth doin' right, right? Um, right?
I had three great workouts this past week. Saturdays are starting to step up. This past Saturday was what a ride would feel like at Six Flags Hell. It was about 20 minutes of sheer pain and off we went. The only thing missing was the little water spraying nozzles that are available to those waiting in line for 5 hours for the 3 minute ride. I hate that place.
(Yes, I'm aware that I'm all over the place today.)
This workout is moderately challenging. I have never sweat so much doing anything in my whole life than I do with this little plan. I swear to you it's true. It's disgusting. My sweat is sweating. I love to sweat, as it gives me a sense of accomplishment, but I don't think anyone in the vacinity appreciates it as much.
Here's to hoping that this week, I stick to the turkey sandwiches and the grilled chicken...
My weight: 179.4 lbs.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Karma
Earl Hickey will tell you there's nothing stronger than the force of karma. Earl lives his life by crossing off bad deeds on a notebook sheet of paper in the hopes that karma will take care of him in the end. Of course, he learned about Lady Karma by watching a late night episode of Carson Daly, but that's besides the point.
Do unto others as you'd want done to you is the backbone of karma. Live by that credo, and I swear you'll win more than you lose. Yes, the Lady's a bitch sometimes. She's not always serving the needs of the good. I've done a lot of good deeds in my life and I have been fed some shitty luck. However, I've done some pretty shitty things in my life and have been abruptly rewarded for them, so as long as the good outnumbers the bad, the scoreboard says I'm winning.
Roger Clemens is a world class athlete. He's one of the most driven, iconic baseball players of all time. He has won 7 Cy Young Awards, one MVP Award, and a World Series. He has over 4600 strikeouts and 350 wins. So why has his life fallen apart in the past three months?
In 1984, Roger joined my beloved Red Sox and although he started slowly, by 1986 he had really hit his stride. Clemens went 24-4 that year on his way to the Cy Young and MVP awards. Even though he complained of a blister and asked out of Game 6 of the World Series, we knew that the Sox wouldn't have even been there if he hadn't put together one of the most dominating individual regular seasons in history.
Clemens gave us 12 good years and we loved him the entire time, maybe a little too much for a grown man to love another grown man. Roger got fatter in the early '90s as his wallet was getting equally fat. Then, in the three months leading up to free agency in 1996, he put together some phenomenal numbers just in time to sign on the dotted line. When the time came, Duquette thought he were in the "twilight" of his career, but Clemens proved him wrong by taking more money because, as he claimed, he wanted to play for a winner, even though Toronto was clearly on the decline. Roger won 2 Cy Young Awards in his two years there. Very impressive. Since then, he's won 2 more Cys and went to the Yankees and the Astros and back to the Yankees again.
Roger Clemens has won at least one Cy Young Award at each stop, and nobody likes him. Can you believe that? I can. And the reason is because Karma has a blind eye towards no one. Clemens lived a charmed life for 20 years, although it seems as if he was legitimately the competitor, family man, and sport ambassador for about 12 of those. Right around the age of 34, The Rocket began to use steroids and HGH to keep his competitive edge. Right around that time, he began to have sexual relations with a country singing, white trash hillbilly. Word has come down today that Clemens had sexual relations with John Daly's ex-wife. Although these are just allegations in the real world, there's nothing alleged about them in this blog, because I'm certain that all of these things happened. Roger decided at that point that he was above the sanctity of everything in America and was allowed to live by his own rules. Not so coincidentally, it was right about that time that Boston fans began to turn on him. We didn't know why we were doing it, but we did it, anyway. We know now.
I don't believe in any sort of organized religion. In my opinion, they're all cults. But I believe in karma. I believe that Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds will get what they deserve in time, as I believe that the guy who doesn't hold the door for the person behind him will get what he deserves, too.Think about what you do or don't do. Big Sister is probably watching, and she's more powerful than you are.
Do unto others as you'd want done to you is the backbone of karma. Live by that credo, and I swear you'll win more than you lose. Yes, the Lady's a bitch sometimes. She's not always serving the needs of the good. I've done a lot of good deeds in my life and I have been fed some shitty luck. However, I've done some pretty shitty things in my life and have been abruptly rewarded for them, so as long as the good outnumbers the bad, the scoreboard says I'm winning.
Roger Clemens is a world class athlete. He's one of the most driven, iconic baseball players of all time. He has won 7 Cy Young Awards, one MVP Award, and a World Series. He has over 4600 strikeouts and 350 wins. So why has his life fallen apart in the past three months?
In 1984, Roger joined my beloved Red Sox and although he started slowly, by 1986 he had really hit his stride. Clemens went 24-4 that year on his way to the Cy Young and MVP awards. Even though he complained of a blister and asked out of Game 6 of the World Series, we knew that the Sox wouldn't have even been there if he hadn't put together one of the most dominating individual regular seasons in history.
Clemens gave us 12 good years and we loved him the entire time, maybe a little too much for a grown man to love another grown man. Roger got fatter in the early '90s as his wallet was getting equally fat. Then, in the three months leading up to free agency in 1996, he put together some phenomenal numbers just in time to sign on the dotted line. When the time came, Duquette thought he were in the "twilight" of his career, but Clemens proved him wrong by taking more money because, as he claimed, he wanted to play for a winner, even though Toronto was clearly on the decline. Roger won 2 Cy Young Awards in his two years there. Very impressive. Since then, he's won 2 more Cys and went to the Yankees and the Astros and back to the Yankees again.
Roger Clemens has won at least one Cy Young Award at each stop, and nobody likes him. Can you believe that? I can. And the reason is because Karma has a blind eye towards no one. Clemens lived a charmed life for 20 years, although it seems as if he was legitimately the competitor, family man, and sport ambassador for about 12 of those. Right around the age of 34, The Rocket began to use steroids and HGH to keep his competitive edge. Right around that time, he began to have sexual relations with a country singing, white trash hillbilly. Word has come down today that Clemens had sexual relations with John Daly's ex-wife. Although these are just allegations in the real world, there's nothing alleged about them in this blog, because I'm certain that all of these things happened. Roger decided at that point that he was above the sanctity of everything in America and was allowed to live by his own rules. Not so coincidentally, it was right about that time that Boston fans began to turn on him. We didn't know why we were doing it, but we did it, anyway. We know now.
I don't believe in any sort of organized religion. In my opinion, they're all cults. But I believe in karma. I believe that Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds will get what they deserve in time, as I believe that the guy who doesn't hold the door for the person behind him will get what he deserves, too.Think about what you do or don't do. Big Sister is probably watching, and she's more powerful than you are.
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