Never Take 3 Straight Fireball Shots

Everything was blurry.  I heard someone talking and I opened my eyes and tried to figure out what was going on.  There was a girl sleeping in my lap, and I had just been sleeping as well.  I looked around and realized that I was sitting on the curb in front of a bar that I most likely had just been thrown out of.  The voice rang out again and I realized that it was one of my friends.  I knew he wasn't drinking that night so without even listening to what he said I basically jumped at his feet and begged him to save us.

As we walked to the car my back started to hurt like crazy.  I shrieked in pain it was so bad and I began to vaguely remember what had happened just a few moments earlier.

A combination of different events led to me and the girl to taking 3 consecutive fireball shots in the course of 1 minute.  This was AFTER a day drinking at the bar, followed by a few hours of an open bar that night.  After an amount of time that in my memory is just dead air, I recall myself and the girl each going towards the bathroom.  She went into the ladies room and I attempted to go in the mens room.  It did not turn out well, apparently for either of us.

I took one step and started to push the door open with my arm.  However, I had not pushed hard enough so when I walked into the bathroom, the door was going to close on me.  I attempted to grab it again, but my peripheral vision was skewed and out of the 3 doors I saw I reached for the door on the right instead of the one in the center.  At the same time I misjudged my steps and I went crashing to the floor.  In order to break my fall I tried to catch myself on the wall with my back, which jammed into the corner of the wall as the door also shut ON me.

So now I'm literally face down on the bathroom floor... and oh yeah, the bouncer's seat/front door, is 3 feet away.  There is already a dude in the bathroom, and I'm quite embarrassed, so I quickly pick myself up and act like nothing happened.  However, when I walked back out of the bathroom the bouncer called me over to him.  He didn't even say anything.  I just said "yeah, I'm not drinking anymore, I'm just going to close my tab and leave".  And it worked, he didn't throw me out...yet.

Meanwhile in the ladies room possibly at the same time, the girl was also face down in the bathroom blowing chunks, and chunks wasn't a dude.  And at some point, the two people who were both laying on separate bathroom floors, met up and decided it was time to go. In other words, we were both escorted from the premises by management.  Everything goes black.

And now we are in a car and our friend is rescuing us from certain death. When he asked where we were going i somehow managed to open my phone GPS aka click on an icon.  I said, go here...and then passed out.

When I awoke I was surprised to find myself in the backseat of a car.  We were parked in the driveway of a house, which turned out to be a friend's and not my parents house, which was nice, and the driver was standing on the front steps on the phone.  A woman was also in the car front seat facing backwards talking to me.  I don't remember one word.

Luckily the guy got a hold of the homeowner I presume, and my backup plan of sleep in the backyard didn't have to take place.  I was going to use my survivorman skills to create a blanket out of grass and trees.  This thought REALLY entered my mind.

As we waited for him to arrive and unlock the door, I pulled the girl out of the backseat of the car and started smacking her to wake her up.  I was still unaware that she was puking/sick/super drunk.  She stood up, and like a knight in shining armor, when I thought she might puke, I jumped the hell out of the way almost knocking her to the ground.  She ended up puking on the drivers feet...

At some point the homeowner showed up.  I was quite happy.  I ran inside and sat on the couch.  But again, because I had a few several million drinks, I was still pretty unaware of the situation.  I was bored So I went upstairs and the girl was sleeping on a bed.  So naturally, I ran in there and jumped up in the air and landed half on top of her and half on the bed with my back yelling BONZAIIII.  I bounced up and off the bed to the floor and then everything goes blank again...

I woke up freezing cold.  My teeth were chattering and I felt like I was going to die.  I had no clue where I was.  All I saw was a crack of light coming out from under what appeared to be a door.  My memory of the night before was that I did not go to sleep in a room with a closed door, so I still didn't know where I was.  So I got up and opened the door, turned back, and started to remember.

I was in the same room, but it was too cold to remain on the floor so I headed for the main couch which, if there was no blanket, I could use the cushions as a blanket.  I get downstairs, walk over to the couch, and who is sleeping there but the homeowner of a 4 bedroom house whos wife was upstairs. I found a blanket, which I think was for dogs, and passed out once again next to the husband.

And THATS why I crashed there!  and NO I won't be randomly showing up there!!!!!!

You Are So Asian!

10:29pm: "You are so asian"
10:29pm: [blank text]
10:29pm: [blank text]
10:30pm: [blank text]
10:30pm: [blank text]
10:30pm: [blank text]
10:30pm: [blank text]
10:30pm: [blank text]

It wasn't that late, but I was sitting in the bushes on Reston Parkway.  I had already walked 4 miles of the 14 miles home from the bar, a walk that I had actually completed once before.  But this time, By the 4th mile I could walk no farther.  I started looking in the woods/bushes for a place where I was going to have to spend the night.

An hour earlier I had started my walk. The goal was to get to the local towncenter where I would get a cab. But on a Thursday night for some reason there were no cabs, so I did what any normal man would do. I started walking towards my home.

Along the way several things happened.  Most notably, I called a number in my phone which somehow turned out to be my dad.  "Son?"  I hung up on him.  Secondly, I texted someone.  A lot.  No idea who.  I think I thought I was texting somebody, but upon second look this morning I may have texted that to some white dude.  Or was it Beverly?  Wait, is Beverly a real person?

As I sat in the back of my mom's car, I wondered how I had gotten to this point.  Yeah, my mom's car.  That is who rescued me.

Then I remembered. I ordered beer w/ 9% alcohol content...the whole night, but drank it like it was water...

The highlight of the night was when I was talking to this married lady.  I saw out of the corner of my eye that these 2 girls were making an awkward move to come talk to me.  Eventually they decided to just go for it (like sisqo) but when they got to me they panicked.  I decided to mess with them. "Married lady, this is Veronica".  Her name was not Veronica.  That move alone flustered them to the point where they didn't talk to me.  They talked to married lady instead. They were so flustered that they asked her how old she was, and when she answered truthfully, they were like "Ew!"

One of the girls finally got up the nerve to talk to me.  When I asked her what her name was she told me to guess.  Seriously ladies, that is your move.  Guess?  Anyways, she gave me a hint that her name started with a certain letter, let's say it was J, because it was.  Her second hint was "there are only 2 names that start with that letter".  After meeting a lady who named her kids Aspen and Pierce a day before, I assured her that there were several names that started with that letter.  Obviously I started with Jessica.  But that was not the answer.  The guesses continued.  Julia, Julio, Jones, Jimmy, Jefferson, Jackie, etc.  Wrong Wrong Wrong Wrong Wrong Wrong.  Eventually I hit...but I clearly already forgot.

The rest of the night is pretty much a blur.  I do remember a few things.  Well, one in particular.  The ass grabbing. No, not by me. By ladies in our kickball league.  I never realized how bad it had gotten until I was talking to one girl and another girl came up and grabbed my ass.  At that moment I started to take into account all the ass grabs.  And let me tell you, there were a lot.  You know that book Green Eggs and ham?  Well replace the green eggs and ham with ass grabbing.

I did get ass grabbed in a house, I did get ass grabbed with a mouse, I do not like ass grabs by pam, I do not like them Sam I Am!

So as my mom drove me home I recalled the night and what had happened.  I looked at my texts, grimaced at the pain from the pinch marks on my backside, and cried a bit inside that I texted Josephine with blank texts.  Just another night after kickball...

Kickball Injuries

It was a typical kickball offseason.  My team just won the Spring Championship and I was already ready for the Fall.  While several of my teammates took a few weeks off after the season to relax and enjoy time with family and friends, I chose to remain at home and continue my workout regimen so I would be prepared for the fall.  As a 40 year old playing in a 20 year old league, those 2 weeks of extra training are crucial to my body's well being.

Every day is the same.  I wake up, look at a picture of the Waka Dominion trophy that hangs next to the picture of my girlfriend, give the picture a kiss (the one of the trophy, not the girl) and I head into the shower to get ready to train.  Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you.  It's 10:45am.  Early bird gets the worm.

You would think it was hard to get up that early, but once I picture the other Dominion kickball players sleeping in their beds (or cars...or bushes) it gives me the motivation I need to train.

Once I'm ready the routine begins.  Strength Training in the morning.  I do about 10 reps at 45 pounds on the bench press, do some excercise with the pink 2 1/2 pound dumbells, and then do that thing that isn't a pullup, but where you hang from the bar.  Perfect for the strength and muscle tone you need for kickball.

Right before lunch is kickball skills training.  I head down to the local elementary school and get in on one of their famous pickup games.  I bunt and bunt and bunt til I can't bunt no more.  The kids seem upset, but I get on base at least 10% of the time.  Suckers.  They ask me why I don't kick the ball like a "man" and I tell them that I am a man and I bunt, so why don't you bunt like a man!  Mine makes more sense!  Stupid kids.

Some days are harder than others because certain teachers ask me to leave the school.  They scream something like "pet that file" or something, but I'm usually running away and don't really have time to pet anything.

After a power-recover lunch It's time for Kickball speed drills.  I walk around the mall a few times, and then work my way up to a jog to first base.  After the 45 foot jog I'm usually really burned out.  But I can't stop there.  The championship calls.

After my workouts I spend 3 hours icing down my body.  It would be really boring if I didn't have a big screen in my Training Room.  You haven't seen Jessica Fletcher until you have seen her in beautiful 50 inch High Definition.  And the whites of Matlocks suits on the plasma screen, so electrifying!

Every five minutes I say "ow my back" and it seems to help with the healing process.  Getting old is rough, but the ecstasy from winning a championship cannot be beat.

It's been a few months of training and things are going very well, but as an old man the training is taking its toll.  Those pink weights, those 45 foot jogs, and those bunts really get my body aching.  However, the worst comes from games.

In order to prepare for fall, I recently entered a 1 day tournament.  This grueling competition consisted of 2 full games, 5 innings each.  It required gutwrenching physical stamina.  It was so tiring I almost couldn't even sit in my fold out camping chair and drink a beer for the 95% of the time I wasn't physically moving.

And now I write to you after that first day of "practice games"  Don't worry.  It looks much worse than it is.  As a 40 year old, this is almost just a typical night after kickball.  The doctors say it is just a precaution and my AARP card covers most of the procedures.  My neck hurts from looking at birds flying by the field.  My arms hurt from resting them on the armrest of the chair.  My legs hurt from having to stand in the field for 3 minute increments.  Kickball is the most brutal of all sports.  But like I say, All pain is worth it just for the glory from smelling Rama's cheap cologne while hoisting the Dominion Cup.

Dressing Nice For Kickball Parties

WAKA, WAKA, WAKA...

No thats not our kickball league three times in a row. It is the sound of Fozzie & company laughing at the way you are dressed.

Everyone is wondering what to wear to the end of season kickball party. WTF. This is a kickball party. This is the biggest event that you will attend since your DUI hearing. Except in this case the "judge" will be "the ladies", the "fine" will be "making out", and the "jail cell" will be "the couch in my parent's basement" Lets show some class. Don't dress like a bum with monkey shorts, a kilt, black socks with sandals, and a cut-off shirt...

But Chris...Where can I get nice clothing...it looks expensive...

There are plenty affordable outfits available at Kohl's. My roommate (mom) has a 10% coupon. I'll borrow her Kohl's card and we can all go together and pick out some $5 shirts. Next Thursday we will all park our cars at Kohl's and carpool to the kickball fields. Then after the games, we will start a tab at the Kohl's register instead of at the bar.

For the guys, My mom tells me that some of these Kohl's shirts have something called a collar, and it makes you look handsome. These shirts also have sleeves. ("But mom, if I don't show off my muscles, how will I look good for the ladies" "I have no son!") Why spend all that money at Aberstotle & Fitch when Kohl's has all the hottest styles like blue, red, and even green.

Kohl's also has some of what I call "church pants", which are pants not made of Denim or Sweat. These "church pants" have legs that go down below the knees and to your shoes. Classy! These are the same kind of pants that important people wear like Car Salesmen, Blockbuster Employees, and successful bums.

And for the ladies out there, Kohl's has some great fashions. Sure, we all love Natalie's trendy yet professional stained cut-off Capri sweat pants. And who can look away from Katy's practical and affordable middle school gym shorts. And Jim, who can resist his daisy dukes. But come on.

Distance yourself from your old ways. My best friend Leslie says that Kohl's is the only place to get the latest fashions from Hannah Montana. I never heard of her, but I think she is like a famous designer in the tradition of Coco Channel (is that 346?). Affordable & Classy, you will be the envy of everyone, in the classroom, on the playground (playing kickball), and at whatever s**thole the end of season party is at. Make all the boys say "I can't wait to see you again!"

Finally, Kohl's even has footwear. According to Wikipedia, there are these things called "dress shoes". They cover your whole foot, don't strap up with velcro, and don't smell like sweaty feet. They come in more traditional colors like black & brown, and don't make an annoying flip/flop sound when you walk. Warning: You can't wear them in the shower. (Then whats the point of owning them!)

So come on guys and gals. Its one night Lets show the people in this terrible town how our kickball division rolls! Grown & Sexy as they call it on my favorite radio station!

And as always, reach for the moon, If you miss, you will land among the stars...

You Left The Oven On!

“Wake up you Idiot you left the oven on!”

As I started to come to I noticed that I was sitting up on the couch with all of my pink gear still on. After finding some clues (like the frozen pizza on the counter next to the oven) I determined that I must have fallen asleep unexpectedly. My roommate/landlord was not happy as this was, according to him, the 4^th or 5^th time I have done this. So what happened, and how did a regular kickball night turn into almost burning down the house?

I guess it all began on the kickball field. The white team played the pink team in a heated game. An older fellow in our leauge, lets call him Ron, decided that he would be the head ref, despite the fact that he was playing, and overturned several calls from the real ref. I would have complained except the overturned calls actually hurt Ron’s team.

Later in the game one girl was hit in the chest really hard with the ball. It looked like it hurt. Instead of asking if she was OK, I told her that I was jealous of the ball because “you never let me touch your REDACTED”. It was a close game, and everyone went to the bar angrily, except Ron who went to the bar old.

I was not caught up much in the kickball rivalry, and so at the bar I decided to hang out with all my good friends on the opposing team. I tried to be nice a girl on the opposing team interrupted me. She told me that she didn’t hate me because “You are a dumb ass and we got you out.” This received a round of “cheers” from the rest of her team. Girl 1, me 0.

After that, another girl introduced herself. She looked different than she did earlier in the day when she was on top of another girl either fighting or loving. I don’t want to say their names or describe in detail what they were doing, but you could say I haven't seen that much 'Gina since I saw those Brittney Spears getting out of the car photos. (can u guess their names?)

Next on the tour were other girls from previous Kickball Hangover stories. The reactions ranged from “I didn’t even read it” to being completely avoided and ignored. Its all a joke and not true…kind of!!! I even promised one girl that she would make the site, and the conclusion of this sentence means that I wasn’t lying.

Luckily the night was saved because a girl gave me a ride home! THANKS, but why in the hell do you have disco lighting in your car!?

So this morning as I set the oven to off, I went over the facts in my head. I spent $70 on a random Thursday night at a relatively cheap bar. I embarrassed myself in front of everyone at the bar not only with my outfit, but with my personality. I made several girls hate me. I played 0 holes of Golden Tee. I was in an empty bar on an empty dance floor dancing the night away. Plus I was late for work already and my car was a $30 cab ride away. When you put it that way it sounds kind of … AWESOME!

Is That A Girl In My Bed?

"Hey, wake up. Don't you have to be at work?" Wait. Who the hell said that? I turned to my side and I noticed there was a girl in my bed. This stranger was poking me and telling me I had to wake up. She had some nerve. I didn't even know her name and she was interrupting my sleep. Then all of a sudden everything started to come together.

The night started as it does often times with a ride on the Fairfax Connector. The bus was nothing new. Remember at Disney when you went on the Small World ride? Well all those kids that were singing on that ride are all grown up and they all ride the Fairfax Connector. Want to learn how to say hello in 7 different languages? Grab $1.25 and hop on.

The bus dropped me off right in front of the bar and I went in to get the party started. However, I had arrived just a tad bit early as it was 4pm. The bar at 4pm looks like the bleachers at a Nationals game. The bar at 4pm is as depressing as Dave Coulier's career. The bar at 4pm is like watching Marley & Me, (spoiler alert) except in this version there are 80 Marleys and they still die in the end but the first hour and a half they are being tortured.

Eventually some other people showed up and the night began to get better. There was some kickball played... I think games had outcomes, but lets ff that (fast forwarding noise).

Back at the bar it was business as usual. Hot asian bartender mocked me for always leaving early and never getting drunk. (And you know I do drink a lot of times but the degenerates on my team apparantly get really drunk at the bar like 3 days a week so I look like a saint.) I scanned the room for talented free agents, but there were no Dwight Howards. There weren't even any Mike Millers. There was however a girl with a hula hoop, and she just hula hooped for 2 straight hours. What the hell was that all about.

Being the first one to arrive at the bar is depressing, and then I hit the 2nd depressing moment where it is last call, the lights are on, and I am being escorted out to the curb. I decided to turn on the charm and start asking (begging) people (girls) for a ride home. I promised that I would sleep with them, and told them some tall tales about the size of my little friend. That tactic didn't work quite as I hoped, and the thing that worked the best was just asking for a ride and that my appreciation would be enough payment. But I knew what kind of appreciation they really wanted ;)

My memory of the night ends at about that point, although I have a slight recollection of singing Michael Jackson songs into a microphone and doing the moonwalk. So if the girl who woke up in my bed is reading this, I have no idea what we did (i probably just cried a lot) and if we did something you did a wonderful job and you are a real asset to the team and yada yada yada. Oh and that number I gave you wasn't fake I just typed it in wrong ... yeah thats the ticket... typed it wrong.

The Intensity Of Brent

Brent was in a zone. He was in position. He was ready to go.

As the game began Brent's heart raced with excitement. This was his moment. He had been preparing for weeks. He was in the gym. He was on the treadmill. He was in shape. Now all that he needed was a check in the win collumn.

The game progressed and Brent was really sweating. He was screaming and yelling in no particular direction. He was intense. Every ten minutes or so he would begin to feel dehydrated so he started slamming drinks to rehydrate. When the ref made a bad call Brent threw his visor in the air in disgust. When his team scored he danced in circles in celebration. When the opposing team scored he sulked in dissappointment. The raw emotion of sport could be seen in every action that Brent took.

When the game finally concluded Brent had given it everything he had. He had put his heart and soul into the game, and sadly it wasn't enough as when the game came to an end his team was defeated. It was at that moment the bartender turned off the TV and told Brent to call a cab home because the bar was closing. If only that story took place during a kickball game instead of during a televised hockey game! :(