iF yoU reCeive Kindness, You shOuld retUrn itlove everyone
crazy8smachine
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Name: Warren


Interests: music and people. not necessarily in that order.
Expertise: coming up with ideas


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Member Since: 12/23/2004

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Edmond Memorial High School Bulldogs
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democrats stuck in the bible belt: come together
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I wish I lived in the 60's and 70's
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(trampolines give me gas)
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Sunday, July 17, 2005

Currently Watching
Better Sex Video: Erotic Indulgences - Wet, Wild & Wicked
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hey guys, i'm chillin in chicago. it's pretty sweet.
here are some pictures of the tom petty concert:

and here are some pics of the oriental theater, the theater that was showing "wicked":

no photography was allowed inside the theater, so it was hard to get good shots. if you can't tell, the whole house is beautiful.

gotta go! cubs game tomorrow, by the way.

this video was the closest thing i could find to "wicked."

 

cubs pics:


Saturday, July 09, 2005

Currently Listening
Endless Summer: Donna Summer's Greatest Hits
By Donna Summer
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everything is soooo boring... especially at work. look:


Saturday, June 25, 2005

Currently Watching
Stealing Harvard
By Jason Lee, Tom Green (III)
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"Up and Scrumming"

by Steve Rushin

RUGBY, WHOSE name derives from a posh English boarding school, has long been played by urbane men with compound names like Phil Horrocks-Taylor, the British flyhalf of whom an opponent once said, "Every time I went to tackle him, Horrocks went one way, Taylor went the other, and all I got was the bloody hyphen."

And while that is representative of English rugby wit, you're more likely familiar with American rugby humor, as seen on countless jocular T-shirts (BETTY FORD RUGBY CLUB) and double-entendre bumper stickers alluding to one of the game's positions (SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL HOOKER: PLAY RUGBY).

Dan Lyle is the former tight end at VMI who spurned the NFL to become America's greatest international rugby star. "Division I football players party just as hard as rugby players," he says. "It's just that [the footballers don't] buy the bumper stickers or wear the T-shirts. Some rubgby players, for whatever reason, feel the need to advertise that behavior."

As a result, "there are two broad stereotypes that people in America have of rugby players," says flyhalf Mike Hercus, the alltime leading scorer on the U.S. national team. "They think that a) you're a big drinker and b) the game is so violent that no one should be allowed to play it."

Rugby can be brutal. Four years ago Stanford forfeited its match against college powerhouse Cal out of "fear for their safety," as the Cardinal coach readily admitted. Against France in 1986, Wayne (Buck) Shelford of the All Blacks suffered a badly torn scrotum, though that advervb is surely superfluous. While a French TV camera looked on- voyeur is a French word, after all- Shelford was sewn up on the touchline and returned to the pitch to play. And yet he never bought the T-shirt that reads, RUGBY: IT TAKES LEATHER BALLS.

That's because topflight international rugby players are uncannily self-effacing, refined and well-spoken. (They can abide a dangling testicle, but not a dangling participle.) The eloquent Lyle, who retired in 2003 after a seven-year career in England's Guinness Premiership, is now evangelizing Americans on behalf of rugby, a sport he calls "ennobling." He says, "We only need one to two percent of Americans to like it."

The U.S. has long had a thriving college rugby subculture whose capital is Berkeley, where U.S. national team captain Kort Schubert grew to love the game. "For 80 minutes you try to tear someone's head off and rub his face in the dirt," says Schubert, who plays professionally for the Cardiff Blues in Wales. "Afterward, you shake their hand and look them in the eye and talk about how well both teams played. It's that kind of brotherhood that attracted me to the game," Rugby combines conviviality and cartoon violence. It is part Horrocks-Taylor, part Hanna-Barbera.

In America rugby has too often been exclusively about post-match camaraderie. "It's a social game in our country," says U.S. coach Tom Bullups. Or as Schubert puts it, "The average American thinks it's all about kegs of beer." However, "you'll find that there's quite a number of guys on our team who don't drink," says the Virginia-born, Australia-raised Hercus. "Many never even entertain the thought. Whilst most are so-called amateurs,there is still an amazing amount of professionalism among the guys." (When's the last time you heard an athlete use the word whilst?)

After being annihilated by Wales, 77-3, in a test match in Hartford last Saturday, the U.S. Eagles, ranked 15th in the world, fell to a perfect 0-52 alltime against so-called Tier 1 rugby nations. But then the U.S. is still made up apmost entirely of amateurs, men like investment banker Mark Griffin, who only moonights as a hooker.

The fifth-ranked Welsh, meanwhile, are all professionals and are the winners of last winter's Six Nations championship, the most prestigious international competition in European rugby. Alas, such is the paucity (and tone) of rugby coverage in the U.S. that you heard not about the tournament but only about theWelshman who promised, in front of his fellow bar patrons, to "cut my balls off"should Wales beat England in the Six Nations opener. When Wales did, Geoff Huish made good on his word. (The two veg were put in a pint glass until an ambulance arrived.) Says Hercus, who plays professionally for the Llanelli Scarlets in Wales, "The hard-core fans are... hard-core."

Just ask Lyle, now the manager of operations for USA Rugby. As a star in England he really was treated, in many respects, like a king. "The team was invited to 10 Downing Street by Tony Blair," he recalls. "My teammate Mike Tindall is dating Zara Phillips, the granddaughter of the queen. The Bath MP gave my parents a private tour of Parliament. I met the king of Tonga..." These are what Lyle aptly calls "my Forrest Gump moments," and he wants other Americans to experience moments like them.

In other words, Uncle Sam Wants You for USA Rugby. All it takes is your total (and occasionally your scrotal) commitment.


Thursday, June 16, 2005

Currently Reading
Angels & Demons : Special Illustrated Collector's Edition
By Dan Brown
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sometimes i sign in to xanga disappointed that i have no new posts to look at.

since i don't have anything of my own to write about, i am going to painstakingly retype an article in the latest Sports Illustrated verbatim.

You Did What? How?

by Steve Rushin

ROCKIES SHORTSTOP Clint Barmes broke his collarbone last week falling on the stairs with an armload of venison, calling to mind another awkward hunk of deer meat, former Tigers slugger Rob Deer, who in 1992 broke his wrist striking out.

Shortly before Barmes tripped, Cubs lefty Mike Remlinger broke his pinkie while reclining in a clubhouse chair. In that same clubhouse, 20 years earlier, Steve Trout bruised his shoulder when he fell off a stationary bike.

Athletes in every sport incur ridiculous injuries. Golfer Sam Torrance cracked his sternum while attacking a potted plant that he mistook, while sleepwalking in his darkened hotel room, for an intruder. Maple Leafs goalie Glenn Healy required 10 stitches to repair the hand he gashed trying to repair a vintage bagpipe. Manchester United keeper Alex Stepney dislocated his jaw while chewing out teammates, adding injury to insult.

But if Stepney really wanted to lacerate his teammates' buttocks, he should have played baseball. In 1982 Kirk Gibson pulled the locker stool away from Tigers righthander Dave Rozema, who fell on the glass bottle of cough syrup in his back pocket, knocking him out of the rotation. "The beauty of baseball," former Detroit manager Sparky Anderson said last week, "is you don't need to use this." And he slowly tapped at his temple.

When it comes to exotic mutilation, baseball stands head and shoulders above the rest. Head? Hall of Famer Bill Dickey knocked himself out while leaping in a low-ceilinged dugout to celebrate a Yankees pennant. Shoulders? Righty Steve Sparks dislocated one of his while trying to tear the Yellow Pages in half.

Baseball injuries, like baseball players, run hot and cold. Outfielder Marty Cordova burned his face after falling asleep in a tanning bed. Rickey Henderson fell asleep with an ice pack on his ankle and was frostbitten in august. The litany of peculiar baseball ailments could fill another volume of Gray's Anatomy (if that Gray were Pete Gray, the St. Louis Brown who lost his right arm in childhood after falling off a truck).

Some so-called "baseball" injuries could happen to anyone. Who among us hasn't broken a rib while vomiting up an inflight meal, as Tom Glavine did on a plane in 1992? But others are occupational hazards specific to the sport, as when outfielder Terry Harper separated his shoulder in the on-deck circle while windmilling a teammate home from third base.

Baseball injuries are so full of irony (Tony Gwynn fractured his middle finger while closing his Porsche door on the way to the bank) and ironing (John Smoltz burned his chest while pressing a shirt he was already wearing) that the medical journals ought to give them some ink (righthander Jeff Juden, infected tattoo).

Summer is a Benihana chef, an endless flash of dangerous blades. Outfielder Oddibe McDowell cut his hand buttering a dinner roll. Lefthander Curt Simmons sliced off a toe while mowing his lawn. And three summers ago righthander Adam Eaton stabbed himself in the stomach with a knife. He was not committing hara-kiri, or even Harry Caray, but was trying to open the vexing shrink-wrap on a DVD.

Long before the Red Sox' motto was Cowboy Up, Wade Boggs bruised his ribs while pulling on cowboy boots (and crashing into a hotel couch). But then the Red Sox have a long history of biting themselves in the ass, as Boston rookie righthander Clarence Blethen did in 1923 while sliding into second base with his false teeth in his back pocket.

It just proves that in baseball anything can be injurious. It could be something you ate (Kevin Mitchell required dental surgery after biting into an overheated microwaved doughnut). Or it could be something that ate you (like the famous automated tarp-roller that devoured Vince Coleman before a 1985 National League playoff game). To stay healthy as a player, you'd do well to remember your mother's advice: Look both ways before crossing the street (except that catcher Brent Mayne wrenched his back doing just that in 2002). Keep your nose clean (but only your nose: Outfielder Henry Cotto punctured an eardrum while prospecting for wax with a Q-tip). And when all else fails, simply stay in bed (though A's righty Rich Harden once strained his shoulder reaching for the snooze button).

The rest of us should steer clear of anyone in double-knits. Orioles righty Dennis Martinez hurt his arm heaving luggage onto the team bus, an injury The Baltimore Sun listed as Samsonitis. Trying to knock dirt from his spikes with his bat, Hall of Famer Lefty Gomez hit his ankle instead and had to be carried from the field. Two decades ago Dodgers third base coach Joe Amalfitano broke his thumb while congratulating Steve Sax as the latter rounded third base on a home run trot.

But that wasn't the most dangerous injury incurred at third base. As Giants manager in 1992, Roger Craig cut the back of his hand when he snagged it on the hook of his wife's bra.��

There is another article by Steve Rushin I want to post, but I don't have time right now. It ran in last week's Sports Ill.


Thursday, June 09, 2005

Currently Watching
The Phantom of the Opera (Widescreen Edition)
By Gerard Butler, Emmy Rossum, Patrick Wilson
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summer is party time! if you aren't partying, you should be! there's only so much time until school starts and disorganized partying gives way to the organized kind. and that partying will be much more strenuous, so you better start training!

micah's post inspired me to take some tests... here's one of the results:

Part Expert Kisser



You're a kissing pro, but it's all about quality and not quantity
You've perfected your kissing technique and can knock anyone's socks off
And you're adaptable, giving each partner what they crave
When it comes down to it, your kisses are truly unforgettable

Part Passionate Kisser



For you, kissing is about all about following your urges
If someone's hot, you'll go in for the kiss - end of story
You can keep any relationship hot with your steamy kisses
A total spark plug - your kisses are bound to get you in trouble

but i only kiss one person



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