This and That

Whatsup bloggers, I'm back. This one does not fall under the topic of running. It's much more interesting than that. I woke up this morning feeling like a bag of hammers, in the same clothes I wore last night, on my buddies bed, with two other buddies (no homo). They also felt like me, looked like me, smelt like me, and sucked like me. We suck so bad some mornings. The product of sucking this much ass comes from the divine poison that is known as Gin. Every time I drink it, I wake up a loser. Today was one of those mornings. Upon wake-up, I noticed that the stench of the once clean Charles Street residence was nothing out of the ordinary, a familiar indication of another night spent being stellar friggen' partiers. If there is one thing my buddies and I excel at, its throwing down the booze. Like any 22 year old guy, we are pretty enthusiastic when it comes to drinking. We are equipped with it all. Alpha's, Drunks, smart friends, not so smart friends, pimps and players, athletes, grocery store employees, golf course employees (80% of our friend circle works at one of those places). Yesterday we had a celebration. No it wasn't to celebrate graduations, work promotions, engagements, the purchase of a new car or home. We celebrated Wednesday. It was time for a Cookout! An assortment of meats and salads and beers and gin were bestowed upon us in what could have been the top 5 smorgasbord's of our time. After eating, laughing, and enjoying a couple casual beverages, it was time for everyone to put their game faces on. I say game faces because these kids are serious about this shit. I want to go to the olympics one day to run the marathon. If professional drinking was an olympic sport, all of these crazy bastards would have hit the Olympic "A" standard by now and would be making a trip to London, England this summer.

Moving on. One of the thousands of amazing ideas that my buddies and I come up with was after the bar last weekend. After a typical night out, we were full of bad choices and great ideas. We weren't cabbing home dude, we were on a mission to 7/11. We had a 4 man crew full of piss and ambition. 4 different dudes meant 4 different bags of Dorito's, and we had a big brewing pot awaiting their arrival. Since this was probably the best creation of chip salad ever established, we started a new trend known as Eating That Chizzurp.

But with all chizzurp asside,the main reason of writing this here blog was to make you aware and knowledgeable of the iPod thief. Like all other thieves, the iPod burglar is a sneaky son-of-a-bitch. These conniving sons of bitches are no match however for the drunk clowns that are full of bad choices and good ideas- me and my friends. To be a successful thief, you must be smart. You must have a plan. You must have secondary plans and even Plan C's. You must have flashlights, pantyhose to cover your face, a cool name like "Spyder" or "The Mechanic", a god damn escape route for the task at hand. Let me tell you how un-smart, unprepared, and how bad this broad's plan of execution was for her unsuccessful iPod robbery last night. 

Fast forward to 9am this morning. 3 dudes in a bed. Feeble, smelly, groaning, and looking like death. Another night of Gin and Jim Bob Ray's had beaten us down, mentally and physically. With an 8 hour shift of work ahead of me, it was time to snap out of it and get my grind on. Normally I'm the king of battling and eliminating the Hangover, but today was a different story. So I finally rolled out of bed, took a good hard look at myself in the mirror (this is always awesome) then proceeded to look for my iPod. The friggen' thing was know where to be found. When I'm a pissed up puddle I usually hide it in funny places thinking it would be a great idea, but this time I checked all those funny places. The oven, condiment shelf, under the sink, bathroom drawers, my buddies rooms. Nothing. So this was already shaping up to be a terrible morning. I am pretty passionate about music and losing personal belongings. There was a lot of F words before I left for work.

Fast forward to 7pm. Text message from Tuftsies saying "that random crackwhore from last night jacked our iPods." I had no idea who this crackwhore might be. 18 armed men could have came into the house and I would have had no idea. I was knocked out cold! So here's what happened. One of our smart friends brought back some troll to the house last night. I know she's a troll because I facebook searched our friend the iPod thief and god damn. Hell, she needs all the iPod earnings she can get so she can fix herself. Thank you once again Social Media! So this classy piece of work must have taken our iPods when she made her exit this morning while we were all asleep. I wish we caught her trying to be all stealth and shit to make her Walk of Shame that much more shameful. You see, if she had a mask or a sword or some badass background music playing she would have pulled this one off I think. Let me expose to you how genious she is. 

#1. Lets call her Cindy. Cindy was in a house full of 10 dudes from the hours of 3am-approximately 7am. Cindy, we are pretty much the 10 best friends that anybody can have (Alan from "The Hangover voice). None of us would steal iPods from eachother, thats just stupid! This leaves you Cindy, smart one. 

#2. Cindy, our buddy that brought you home knows your name. (It's not Cindy, just to re-clarify). He likes us more than you. Therefore, he's going to have our back over yours! Muahahahaha.

#3. Your facebook photos directly indicate you are a troubled soul, so we put two and two together. I'm sorry to our one buddy who brought her home last night. Your beer goggles must have been in full force!

These are only a few indictions of the lack of skills she possesses when it comes to successful stolen property. I have the mind of a thief, therefore you will never trick me Cindy, you whore. So Tufts and I each sent her facebook messages pretty much explaining that iPods don't have legs, you were the only random in the house, you have a deadline to give them back, your stupid enough to put your place of employment on your info page, and we'll see you very soon. Cindy was scared man, she was so flippin scared. Our good pal Spits was just as furious as me and Tufts were. Spits wasn't the one banging the troll, he just loves us to death and wouldn't want a troll listening to our awesome music. Spits had antics. Spits would have ripped this girl to shreds man. He would walk up there all lanky and shit, with his deep voice and just start givin'er! He was ready to go marching into her work, unleash and open up a can of whoop ass, make her cry, yell "She's a thief" and make sure she was fired on the spot. That would have been so friggen' awesome. I love you Spits, but he's allergic to Mayo. He always pukes when he eats it, what a clown! We should still do that anyways. So, Cindy messaged us back, acknowledged that she's a dummy, said she was sorry, and is giving back our iPods. You know what would be classic? If I posted the link to this blog on her facebook wall! That would be harsh, I'm not that mean.

I feel great. Cindy probably feels like poo. When I see Tufts I am going to give him a running chest bump and jam out to some gangster beats. Life is good man. Don't steal from us people, just don't do it!

So today my man John Mason ran a 17 second PB down in Michigan for the 5k. The dude broke 15min, running 14:59 unofficially. It's time for John to come fix up my friend Taylers deck and celebrate that PB over some beers and superior deck building. Hurry up Mr. Mason!