Everybody Under the Age of Eighteen Is A Candy-Ass

Over the past few days I have meditated on the state of today's youth. I was driving my car through my parents' neighborhood the other day, and as I came to a four-way stop sign I noticed a gang of kids whose ages ranged from about thirteen to fifteen. Now, being on their bicycles in a relatively safe neighborhood, it dawned on me that these kids are soft. Decked out in pads from head to toe, I became furious just laying eyes upon these kids. I remember ten years ago, I was riding my Haro Shredder around the neighborhood doing wheelies and stoppies in between constructing the most ridiculous "ramps" out of the most ridiculous pieces of wood I could find. All of this without any types of padding. Anybody who has had the pleasure of setting their eyes on me will tell you that I am more grisled that ninety percent of the male population. To date, I have broken thirteen bones, amassed over 50 stitches, have arthritis in one shoulder due to thirteen shoulder separations, and permanent nerve damage in my neck which leaves the tips of my fingers tingling. While those numbers may be somewhat staggering, I'm of the belief that said injuries have made me the man I am today and I'd do it all over again if I have to. My mother, God bless her, had the perfect question waiting for me every time I came home bloodied and hobbled.

"Mom," I'd say "me and Joe were jumping our bikes and I think I messed up my ankle." (I know that's bad grammar to say "me and Joe," I did that on purpose, professor.)

She would then counter with "Well, why the hell did you do that?" From a very young age I was held responsible for my own actions, no matter how stupid. Seriously, what better question to ask a kid who just effed himself up than "What the hell did you do that for?" Each time she said it I had to re-evaluate my life and come up with a concrete reason for why, at thirteen, it was a terrible idea to sit on a skateboard and go screaming down a large hill around a blind corner where I was in real danger of being wedged under somebody's minivan.

(Funny sidestory: My brother and I were HUGE into roller blading when we were younger. One time a kid in the neighborhood tried to big-time us by doing his paper route on rollerSKATES, totally bit it going down that same hill, and wound up with some missing teeth and a broken wrist.)

Now, being soft is not only reserved for extracurriculars. It seems as though schools have totally taken the fun out of being a kid. In terms of their education, the "No Child Left Behind" business, this feel-good, touchy-feely bullshit, has made it okay for every kid to be an absolute dolt. By celebrating mediocrity and shunning any real praise for kids who bust their balls every single day, we slip farther and farther into the stereotype that Americans are lazy good-for-nothing jagoffs. I will also point out that schools in the Northeast are also going so far as to ban dodge ball from physical education. I'm not a fan of social Darwinism from an economic standpoint but come on. Why do we punish the kids who are good at things? I know when I was a kid dealing with the angst we all go through at one time, a good way to blow off some steam was to bean one of my peers in the head with an all-purpose athletic ball. One of the old school red ones. Nothing made me happier than to send a kid back to class with a big "VOIT" tattooed across his face, or at the very least, his upper-chest/neck region. A lot of people will tell you that hitting a homer in baseball is the best feeling in the world. Some will tell you that draining a thirty footer in somebody's face is the ultimate sports-related high. I will contest that the sound of a playground ball, that all-too-familiar "FFTHOOM!" sound is like church bells to me. Remember that scene in the Big Lebowski when The Dude is mediating on his rug listening to the sounds of bowling pins being knocked down? I wish I had a 90-minute cassette tape with that "FFFTHOOM!" sound over and over, both sides, extended play. Can somebody make that happen?

Lastly, something has been on my mind for some time and I feel this is the perfect forum for me to air this one out. Emo music is making our nations' youth absolutely useless. First CD I bought with my own money - Metallica's Black Album. I had angst, I had rage inside me, but I funneled those feelings into pure aggression and face-melting licks on the meedly-meedlies. And I thank Kirk Hammet for getting me through my early teens. Seriously, if you're having a bad day, please listen to the guitar solo in any PRE-"Load" Metallica album and you'll be all set. Maybe I'll write another blog about how THEY'RE a bunch of sissies now, but I need to stay on track. Let me put it this way, I'm a pretty sensitive guy when I have to be. I am usually (and by usually I mean rarely) considerate of other people's feelings, especially those of the fairer sex (but not really). However, there is a time and a place for everything. Hey kids, everybody gets made fun of once and a while. Everybody has awkward and rough times, and if you think that Jr. High and High School are the end-all, be-all to your existence, then maybe you should drink bleach. Here's a tip from me; life gets way cooler when you're OUT of school. So stop pricking your finger and writing in your "Nightmare Before Christmas" journal in your own blood, shit will buff out. I'm also pretty sure that the girl you're pining over, the really artsy girl who has interesting things to say, she already has a pussy and doesn't need another one. Chicks dig confidence, not guys who wear tighter clothing than they do and have half their faces covered by a single lock of purple hair. Do yourself a favor, pick yourself up of the ground, rub some dirt or spit into whatever wound you have, and be a goddamn Bruin about it. If some kids at school are picking on you 'cause you're different, kick somebody's ass like in prison. It's not cool to be miserable for the sake of looking cool. Sure it worked for the Cure, but not for upper-middle class kids from New England. Unearned unhappiness is for jerkoffs. There, I said it.


Hard to the Core, Core to the Rotten,
R VON D (aka Kid Dynamite)

An Open Letter to Drunk Celebrities

If your name is one of the following:

-Lindsey Lohan

-Paris Hilton

-Mel Gibson

-Al Gore's Son

-Chris Chambers

-Nicole Richie

-Tank Johnson

-Steve McNair

Hire a fuckin driver! You're a goddamn millionaire. I hate you all.

- K-Rock -

Note: Vin Baker was left off the list because I assume he has spent all of his inheritance on Popov and the Roullette table

The Non-Red Sox Fan Guide to Hating the Yankees

Born in the greater Boston area, and living my entire life in New England, I was never given a choice as to what Major League Baseball team I would swear allegiance to. The Boston Red Sox have forever been a part of my life and one of the things that comes along with this is a complete and almost sick hatred for the New York Yankees. Now, I would like to state that before I go on, please understand that I am writing this with the most perspective I can have. I personally think that the Yankees are a classless organization (except for Derek Jeter) with no real constitution. However, there are some reason that ALL baseball fans should hate the Yankees, not just Red Sox Fans. Here are some standout reasons for you:



1) Jorge Posada:
There is no science to my reasoning here. He's a shitty defensive catcher who couldn't throw me out, and he's probably the ugliest person on the face of the Earth. He also pisses on his own hands (really). Next!




2) Curtain Calls:
I was watching the highlights from the Yankees/Devil Rays game the other day in which the Yankees won 21-4 or something like that. And one thing that blew my mind was that the Yankee fans were giving what is known as a curtain call to some rookie who hit two home runs. Firstly, they're called "CURTAIN CALLS" because they're supposed to come at the end of a game or a career. Ted Williams never tipped his hat to the crowd even after his final at bat at Fenway in which he hit a home run. Mark McGwire got a curtain call for breaking Roger Marris' single-season home run records. Craig Biggio got a curtain call and a game stoppage for his 3,000th hit. Why does some no-name get a curtain call in the seventh inning at Yankee stadium when he put his team up 17-3 instead of 16-3. Doesn't make sense to me. That prick's own teammates probably weren't even high-fiving him. Dear Yankee stadium, act like your team has hit a home run before...assholes. Not only that, but with all due respect to my man Dukes, the Yankees were playing a team that would have trouble winning the College World Series. You beat up a JV team, BIG F*CKING DEAL

3) Uniforms
A lot of people will go on and on about how the Yankees pinstripe uniform is a classic and the standard for which all other uniforms to be judged. However, if you knew ANYTHING about baseball history, you would know that the Yankees chose pinstripes in order to make Babe Ruth look like less of a fat mess. Don't talk about your uniforms being classical, when the real reasoning behind them is to cover up how out of shape your players are. Granted, this does not apply to everybody, but I just find the term "classic" to be incredibly misleading

4) Payroll

Now I said I was going to write this as a non-Red Sox fan, so I can bring this up. I know that the Red Sox have the SECOND HIGHEST payroll in all MLB, so don't bring it up. Think of me as a Pittsburgh Pirates fan. I have watched my team religiously over the past 25 years. I've seen them struggle, I've seen them do well, and I have never seen them win the World Series. I have seen players like a pre-freak Barry Bonds win MVPs and Gold Gloves, I've seen Bobby Bonilla and Andy Van Slyke slap homers over the walls, and I've seen these players go to bigger markets for more money. Money like teams like Pittsburgh don't have and teams like the Yankees shell out willingly to whatever greedy hands want to take it. Look at people like Jason Giambi, Carl Pavano, Gary Sheffield, Randy Johnson, etc. They've all been handed large money to NOT win a World Series at the expense of smaller markets who really liked having those guys around.

Quick Facts: 2006 Payrolls

Pittsburgh - $46, 717, 750.00
Florida - $14, 998, 550.00
New York - $194,663,079.00

(Alex Rodriguez makes more money per year than THE ENTIRE MARLINS ORGANIZATION)

5) They're not that good:

Cleveland, Detroit, Los Angeles (BOTH), Seattle. What do these teams all have in common? They all have better records than the Yankees and probably will make all make the playoffs. The Yankees will not. By my count, the last time the Yankees won the world series was the year 2000. How many people from that team are still on the Yankees. Derek Jeter, Jorge Posada, Roger Clemens, Mariano Rivera, and Andy Petite. Two every day players (one, as mentioned earlier, sucks), the other two play once every five days, and if Mariano Rivera was a horse, Steinbrenner would have put a bullet in his head a while ago. Also, as good as Derek Jeter is, he's not as good as he was seven years ago and he's certainly not going to get his team into the playoffs by doing that sissy jump-throw he does once a week. For the record, just like the barehanded throw from third base, going into the hole to your right is a routine play these days, enough with the theatrics. Go on and on about your 26 rings or whatever, but as my girl Janet Jackson says, "What have you done for me lately?"



Batter Up,
R Von D

K-Rock's Thoughts on Sobriety

For the 2+ weeks, I have been working on a month of detox. I got this idea from my brother when he did one back in January after a very solid binge. The first half of the summer (pre-all star break), I was dropping dollars upon dollars every Thursday night at Martha's and then driving half in the bag to work every Friday morning. Friday and Saturday nights I would either be at a bar somewhere in the Southern NH region or off somewhere drinking myself into stupidity. I decided about mid-way through June that in the near future I needed a break from this. The only issue was that I looked at my calendar and I had weekend trips planned for a couple weeks that I certainly was not going to drive to in order to remain sober. One weekend in late June involved a Friday in Rhode Island, followed by a Saturday in Connecticut that mandated me drinking excessively. The following weekend was back down to CT for another day of all day drinking. So i set the start date for the Sunday after that, July 8th.

The 8th was also pretty convenient because I did not have any facebook events to attend, which means my schedule was clear. I have plans to head up to the NH Lakes region sometime around August 8th, which means I had this one month to prove to myself and my family that I wasn't a complete drunk. I also figured it would be a good way to save some money and shed a few pounds. Most people I talked to about this did not think there was any way that I would go a month without drinking, so that was also some pretty decent motivation.

It hasn't been too bad over the past couple weeks, but this weekend was definately the most difficult so far. How, being 21 now, was I going to stay sober during my brother's birthday weekend? Friday night I lucked out because he decided to stay in Boston and wreak havoc there. From the sound of things, they had a good time, but I didn't miss out on too much. Saturday was where the difficulty began. We sat around all day outside because it was nice out. An occasion like this would usually mandate me laying by the pool drinking Bud diesels all afternoon. Then the real problem arose, going to the Grand Buffet. How the fuck am I going to sit at a smokey karaoke bar surrounded by drunk NASCAR fans and not have anything to drink? Luckily, the entertainment of my brother and company rockin' the mic to such tunes as "Just a Gigolo" "Mack El Knife" and (a very sensual version of) "Need You Tonight" was good enough for me. Sparks flew and a couple chokeholds were applied during a performance of "Don't Stop Believin'" and it was a solid evening.

The following day involved a trip to Fenway Park to watch a Red Sox-White Sox game. I will quickly summarize the afternoon by saying the Red Sox won, I stood on Yawkey Way for over an hour and watched people drink beer, I walked by Dan "Shank" Shaughnessy, and had an up close view of Jerry Remy where I was able to watch him sit in the announcing booth and smoke a cigarette during the game (no joke). Another fun day that involved me consuming no alcohol whatsoever.

So here I am today, 15 days through my month of detox. A few of my friends have made comments throughout the past couple weeks that they wish I wasn't doing this because i'm not as moody when I'm drinking. They can go fuck themselves. I have saved some money and shed a few pounds so far. I have not been able to use the "too hungover" excuse for anything, which I usually rely on a couple times a week. I guess once this month is over, I will come out of it having learned a few things. The first is that I am able to resist the urge to drink, but the second is that drinking is more fun than being sober, so I should probably learn to drink in moderation. I have about two weeks left and I can't wait until August 8th comes. I hope that I do not have a poor "getting back on the wagon" experience (like Hambone and Papa Livsey), but that is yet to be seen. Either way, let me give one piece of advice. Don't do a month of detox, very overrated.

- K-Rock -

An Open Letter to Kelly Clarkson

Dear Miss Clarkson,
We are all aware that your new album is subject to great criticism. People have been writing in tabloids and other periodicals that snail-like record sails (getting beat out by Hannah Montana must have been rough) and a bad attitude have left you a shadow of your former bubbly persona. Well, we at the Pen15 Club want to help. Here are a few suggestions from R Von D that might help your cause.

1) We get it, you're the jilted ex-girlfriend. There is no need to continually beat a dead horse here. Let's run down the list shall we: "Since You've Been Gone," "Never Again," "Behind These Hazel Eyes," and "Breakaway," all your biggest hits are all songs about how some mutt dicked you over. Be like the rest of us; dust yourself off, and write a good song about drinking your face off and having fun with your friends, because that's the best way to get over a breakup. Either that, or just try putting out more. Also, please look up the Fridge. He's been wanting to enter your secret garden since "From Justin to Kelly." But, speaking of writing your own songs...

2) Don't. While this may come off a little shitty, you are the product of a multi-billion dollar machine, not an artist. As stated prior, your songwriting skills seem to be somewhat geared towards a certain genre and why don't you let somebody who gets paid to write good songs write YOU a good song. Now, the argument here is that all the breakup songs written were great successes, sold a lot of records, blah blah blah. If you were a real artist, you wouldn't care about shit like that, right? You want your feelings heard. Well the only feelings anybody has heard from you is bitching and moaning about some dude. Luckily for you, people are idiots and will listen to anything, it's one of the beauties of living in America these days.

3) People like Clive Davis, who has been behind some of the greatest music ever produced, has been in the business for something ridiculous like 50+ years, has forgotten more music than you know. He knows better than you and you should listen to every word he says. If he says your album sucks and needs to be fixed, you fix it. If he says that you need to take people on board to help you with your song writing, you say "yes sir." Do not go on record telling people he's 80 and that he doesn't know what he's talking about. Again you're not an artist, you're a set of lungs and vocal chords created by the good people of American Idol for the purpose of making them more money. Know your place.

4) Lay off the hot dogs (see fig. A). Weight fluctuation = bad press...just sayin.

Well Miss Clarkson, I hope this helps. We here at Pen15 do not wish to take anything away from you, you're a great singer and have an amazing voice, but you're not a thinker. Let people who know better figure out all the confusing things like making and selling an album. You just take the pat on the head and flash all those teeth in that enormous mouth of yours (again, Fig. A).

WU-TANG!,
R Von D

Reasons Fridge Loathes Aaron "Biggins" Wilkins

Aaron Wilkins is an interesting person. Interesting enough that I hate him. If I had the chance to drive a Delorean 88 mph, I legitimately would go back in time and give his parents money for an abortion. The following are specific reasons that I hate him.


1. No one knows what Hambone means. I mean we know it's from a Will Ferrell skit on SNL, but you don't even know what it means. Snoozebone, Fall Out Bone, hahahaahahahh THATS NOT FUNNY.

2. Facebook says Favorite Bands. Not every single band you've ever heard of. Hambiggity lists every single band known to man as his favorite. See the following:

Favorite Music:

it dies today, unearth, hatebreed, lamb of god, fall out boy, senses fail, remembering never, atreyu, slipknot, metallica, as i lay dying, brand new, machine head, the acacia strain, the offspring, green day, bleeding through, soulfly, limp bizkit, on broken wings, killswitch engage, underoath, dave matthews band, incubus, prodigy, alice in chains, blink 182, red hot chili peppers, stone temple pilots, cypress hill, kottenmouth kings, our lady peace, mudvayne, swollen members, the eagles, AC/DC, 311, chimaira, eminem, eric clapton, fear factory, flaw, thrice, system of a down, sublime, soundgarden, pink floyd, rage against the machine, guns n' roses, nonpoint, pearl jam, senses fail, chiodos, underoath, alexisonfire, parkway drive, taking back sunday, mc chris, august burns red


We get it, asshole, you like music.

2. He named a party on facebook after himself. Wilkapalooza 2007, can't wait, you dick.

3. He laughs too obnoxiously at jokes made at my expense.
Fridge: "Go catch, Hambone, you're not up to bat anytime soon..."
R Von D: "Didn't you make last out, you fat prick?
Hambone: "bwahawhhahahhahawhwhhahwahhwahhawhahhahahah"

4. Broken Record. Never stops speaking the same goddamned movie/Family Guy lines every time I sees him.
Ex: "Buttscratchaaaah? Buttscratchah."

5. Wore a Raiders Randy Moss jersey in public. We all know you got it at Marshall's. Ass.

6. You copied me and did a month of detox.

7. Hambone makes sure everyone in New Hampshire knows that he is going to buy a beer. "Hey guys, anybody need beers? Cause I'm going to grab a 30." Shutup.

8. You got pushed down a hill by King Drunk K-Rock, hit his head on a goddamned house, and went to the hospital, again copying me.


Bottom line is this, I love you Aaron, but I fucking hate everything about you.

Kisses,
Fridge

Fridge's Thoughts on "Sicko"

Dear Michael Moore,

Fat, unhealthy, diabetic people are the reason health care sucks in this country. Do some situps and ease up on the Snickers bars you fat slob. Perhaps consider walking a mile to the ice cream stand instead of driving your Prius. If my taxes ever pay for your goddamned foot to be amputated, I'm going to be very upset.

Your pal,
Fridge


PS: Michigan State sucks. Hail to the Victors at UMich, you fat prick.

Movie Quotes for Every Day Conversation: Part One

Some people get annoyed when you quote movies at them (especially when they haven't seen the picture or just generally have a stick up their ass or their period.) Still, if used correctly, certain quotes can make certain situations more lively. Here is a list of my favorite quotes to make my otherwise drab day a little brighter.

"I am all that is man!"

When to use it: Generally after any kind of "Guy" conquest. Say, for instance, you have just successfully asked the girl in the next cubicle for her lunch order that day. While you really haven't accomplished anything, you still get that good feeling in your gut. In context, Arkat "Throney" Ramathorn in the film "Super Troopers" has just downed an entire bottle of syrup a bit faster than a less experienced colleague. Nothing gained you say? We guys beg to differ.

When I have personally used it: I was at a party and I "frommeled" a beer for the first time. For those of you who do not know how to frommel a beer, it is basically the act of shotgunning a beer, but instead of using a key to provide an opening, you use your own forehead. Like I said, to the untrained eye I have accomplished nothing, but we all know that what I have just done equals three of the tasks assigned to Hercules himself.

"You should listen to him, [insert name here], he's in pre-med."

When to use it: Basically any time you get your idiot friends to go along with some harebrained scheme you concocted before, after, or during a night of binge drinking. True gentlemen of leisure will always defer to more well-established members. Kent "Flounder" Dorfman was not nearly the caliber hooligan that "Bluto" Blutarsky was, so in the natural pecking order of manliness, Bluto's advice to "start drinking heavily" after Flounder's older brother's Cadillac had just been accessory to one of the greatest road trips in history. As an aside, "fat, drunk, and stupid" is a perfectly acceptable way to go through life.

When I have personally used it: Obviously, during my college career. One of my roommates had just found out that his long-time girlfriend had been "seeing" one of his friends from home while he was at school. Having no tact or sense of decency, my other roommate said "dude, you should totally just go out, get lit up, and nail the first girl you see, brown-bagger or not." I then took it upon myself to say "You should listen to him, Mike, he's in pre-med." I will point out that my other roommate, Conor, who provided the sound advice to Mike, had not yet declared a major and did not do so until the second half of his sophomore year, on the very last day before they just gave him one.

"Nobody f*cks with the Jesus..."

When to use it: The rule of thumb here is to not say this as a physical presence, but more of a "I'll drag my balls across your moms nose" type of thing. Being a man of average stature, I have found that the best way to win a fight is not to have the other person think you're hard as nails, but to be JUST CREEPY enough to the point where they would rather just cut their losses instead of finding out how psychotic you really are.

When I've personally used it: People were once arguing back and forth about the fun games they play when peers pass out at parties with their shoes on. This discussion went on for far too long before I told the boring penis-drawing-sharpee-marker crowd about the time I super-glued a kids own hand to his face, moved his car a mile away without him knowing, and drew an entire mural of filth on his back with one of those industrial markers that come in stainless steel holsters. While they stared at me agape, I delivered the aforementioned line with the clear and calm resolve you'd expect from a complete sociopath.

"Big Gulps, huh? Alright! ...Welp, see ya later!"

When to use it: Basically any time you want to end a conversation abruptly OR whilst interjecting yourself to a conversation you had no previous place in. Example:

Person one: "I feel that you should invest money from your 401k into global equity, which last year saw almost a 12% return.
Person two: "That's nice, but I just can't justify jeopardizing my retirement and my kid's college fund, so I think I'm going to play it safe and stick with the plan my financial adviser set out for me. Furthermore..."
You: "Hey, you guys! You won't believe it! We just changed Sean's wallpaper on his computer to that "Tubgirl" picture and put a password on it so he couldn't change it. HAHAHAHA.
(stunned silence)
You: "Big gulps, huh? Alright... Welp, see ya later"
(exit).

When I have personally used it: See above.

"But my real passion is working with retards."

When to use it: There are two types of people in the world, people who think this type of low-brow humor is funny, and the type of people who will be so utterly repulsed by this that they leave you alone forever. I'm of the belief that you should find out early on what type of person this person is. That said, this is perfect for when you're talking to a member of the opposite sex at a social gathering, explaining what your job is, and seeing them get really bored.

"I'm a nurse, what do you do?"
"I'm a Data Integrity Team Leader" (Fridge's actual job title)
"Oh...that's...um...cool..."
"...but my real passion is working with retards."

Those who laugh are keepers, those who don't are assholes. As stated prior, it's best to just let 'er rip and see if the person you're talking to is worth two number twos.

When I've personally used it: I never use this line considering that people are fascinated with what I do. For security purposes I cannot divulge exactly what that is, but it involves finishing school, and the (still) official language of Vatican City. Google it if you don' t know. For the rest of you, use this whenever you can, your jobs are boring and you need the help.


Hopefully these will oil up the rusty shit-box you call a social life. Be advised that any of these lines are funnier and more socially acceptable when alcohol is involved. Rest assured that if you can seamlessly integrate these quotations into every day diction, you will be heralded as a guy/girl whom everybody wants to be around. Look at me, I'm the most popular guy I know and everybody loves me.

HEY AQUALUNG! (see it works)
R Von D

K-Rock's Premier -- Top 10 Jerseys

If I were a millionaire and didn't have shit to do with my life, I feel I would live the most simple life imaginable. First, I would live in a warm climate and sit next to a pool all day. Second, I would have a Tom Collins in my hand at ALL times. But third, I would have the most extensive collection of sports jerseys imaginable. Currently, I don't have the deepest bank account, so my jersey collection is somewhat limited, but let me tell you, the possibilities are endless. I currently spend much of my day on eBay and other websites dreaming of these fine collaborations of mesh and polyester. So, with my world premier, I'm going to make a Top 10 list of jerseys that I need to own. It is not going to be an exact top 10 though. I'm going to have the first five be jerseys that involve criminal activity/sports-related humor that myself, and a select number of people, find hilarious. The next five jerseys on the list are 5 jerseys that I would step over my own Mother in order to possess. If you don't think that these jerseys are the absolute tits, then eat a dick. Enjoy

Note: All of these jerseys will be Authentic, with letters and numbers sewn on, and not shipped in from Thailand from some shitty ebay store that would give you a number 32 Michael Jordan jersey or something like that, because fuck it, I'm rich and can afford it.

10. Carlton Dotson - Baylor University Basketball

Dotson is a man of many values. He loves his teammates, basketball, and the 2nd Amendment. I feel that this jersey would show how I feel about college athletes gunning down their teammates/good friends.

9. Pacman Jones - Tennessee Titans

This jersey, I believe, would be quite the steal. The Titans online store has stopped producing Pacman jerseys and I can not find one on a single online store (i.e. Eastbay, Dick's Sporting Goods, etc.). I have also heard rumors that if I were to place an order for a customized Titans jersey with "Jones 32" on the back, they would deny the request. If I tried to order one with "Make It Rain 32" they would start a Fire Sale on the United States similar to that seen in "Live Free or Die Hard." Basically, the Titans are trying to deny people such as myself the fun of having this jersey, so I feel it would be quite the acquisition.

8. Michael Vick/Ron Mexico - Atlanta Falcons

Once again, a jersey that the Falcons online store will not make for you if you request it. I have seen pictures of a few that must have been made quickly before the Falcons recieved word of the herpes. Although Mexico was acquitted in court, I would still love this jersey in order to pay tribute to the dog-fighting king of the east coast.

7. Rod Tidwell - Arizona Cardinals

Seeing as "Jerry Maguire" is in my Top 10 movies list(and I already own a Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn Cleveland Indians t-shirt), I thought this would be a good addition to the list. Tidwell was a solid possession reciever who was not afraid to go across the middle once Maguire called him a pussy. Also, I am a fan of the Arizona Cardinals present-day recieving corps, and despite how much I like him, I don't see Anquan Boldin making my top 5 must-haves.

6. Laurence "Koolaid" Maroney - New England Patriots

The self proclaimed "Koolaid" had a pretty interesting facebook account, which contained pictures of him with his Koolaid pendant on his necklace and his car with an image of the Koolaid man on the driver's side door. The profile also contained his favorite quotes, including "'bout time we got some construda in dis mothafucka" and the classic "ur begul shitting." WOW. Either way, I would dig up Mother Theresa and slap her in her cold, dead face in order to get a Patriots jersey (preferable the silver ones which were awesome) with "Koolaid 39" on the back.

This concludes the section on goofy ass jerseys that myself and about 15 other people in the United States would proudly wear.

My real top 5 are absolutely bad-ass jerseys that I feel most sports fans (I'll try to avoid too much of a New Englad bias) would kill for.

5. Michael Jordan - Chicago Bulls

This is a pretty basic jersey, but i'm looking for the red Bulls jersey from the mid-80's that said Chicago in cursive lettering. He wore this during some pretty classic dunk contests and this just isn't something that you see every day.

4. Wayne Gretzky - Edmonton Oilers

This is one of the greatest teams of the past few decades. Although I list Gretzky, I would easily replace him with Kurri, Fuhr, Coffey, or Messier. One of the sharpest looking jerseys is fitting for one of the greatest collections of players in recent history.

3. Joe Namath - New York Jets

This one is a two-parter. First, Joe Namath, in his day, was known for both his fantastic skills at quarterback and also his showmanship (Namath guaranteed a Super Bowl win, and not only won the game, but also the Super Bowl MVP). Second, "I wanna kiss you." This jersey can get you respect from some and will get a laugh out of many.

2. Roger Clemens - Boston Red Sox

Love him, hate him, I really don't care how you feel about him. He made his name as a member of the Red Sox. He was skinnier and less greedy in those days. He played through a changeover in jerseys, but I am going to go with the white with red lettering button-down jersey. This is the jersey Clemens wore during his first 20 K performance.

1. Vernon Davis - San Francisco 49ers

This is my list, not yours and that's why. The Big Vern red throwback from the Montana/Rice era. One of the best looking jerseys for one of the scariest players. Shown, stiff-arming AJ Hawk's face off.

Soberly Yours,

K-Rock

Mojitoes, Mo' Problems

Disclaimer: This blog has grown out of the recent frustrations of male colleagues of mine. Personally, I have little interest in pursuing serious relationships right now. So, this letter is intended to benefit those who have let their aggravations be known to me very recently.

To whom it may concern,

Ladies, it is high time that somebody set you straight. For too long have I heard you complain about the wrong type of guy, the type who is only "out for one thing." I am not going to sit here and pretend that men and women all have the same basic needs and you should just give in to your more animal instincts. I am not going to tell you that there are nice guys in the world who you need to pay attention to. I am, however, going to tell you that what you see is more often than not the wrong thing.

Pretend for a second that the guy you see at the end of the bar, the guy you just scammed out of a free drink does not simply want to bang you. Pretend that guy, who just dropped about ten bucks on whatever mixed drink you and your friend are holding is simply trying to meet new people. Is that so hard to believe? Sure, some of you women are thinking how many times the free drink scam has burned you, some of you are scowling at even letting some random buy you a drink. Please realize that men are people. Let me point out some simple truths to you once and for all.

1) YOU ARE NOT THAT GOOD LOOKING:

While some of you ladies are beautiful creatures, it is HIGHLY egotistical and irresponsible of you to think that every guy who buys you a drink or attempts to talk to you wants to have sex with you. God forbid anybody try to get to know you without you constantly having you think they're out for your berry-patch. Sit down, introduce yourself, ask the guy what his name is...shake his hand.

2) BELIEVE IT OR NOT, IT TAKES BALLS TO EVEN APPROACH YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE:

Here's the thing...most guys get really nervous before talking to girls. The ones who don't are either liars or idiots. No guy enjoys being shot down. No guy likes to have whatever friend you bring with you tell him that "we came here together, and we're leaving together." That makes him look bad and you look even worse.

3) ALCOHOL IS A SOCIAL LUBRICANT. NOT A WAY TO GET IN YOUR PANTS:

Granted, alcohol loosens inhibitions and makes people do some stupid shit, but think about it. If people in their twenties met at pizza places instead of bars, you can put your money on the fact that if a guy wanted to talk to you in that situation, he'd buy you a slice. If people our age decided to congregate at driving ranges, a good way to break the ice might be to pick up the tab on a bucket of balls. It's what you're there for, and if a guy has enough interest in you to pay attention to what you're drinking, that should count for something.

4)IF YOU GO TO A BAR WITH THE "I DON'T NEED MONEY, I'LL HAVE GUYS BUY ME DRINKS ALL NIGHT," YOU DESERVE THE DICKHEADS:

A lot of this is covered in point one, but let's discuss this a bit further. Aside from this being egotistical and irresponsible, it's just rude. Guys who are in bars most of the time work for their money, and work hard for it. You showing up with your friends to scam them out of their paychecks is stealing. Conning men into thinking that you're interested in them just to get a couple Sex on the Beaches for you and your friends is criminal and you should be ashamed of yourselves. The guy with the blowout will most surely buy you as many drinks as you want...but good luck with that.

5) IF YOU'RE NOT INTERESTED, SAY IT NICELY, BUT DON'T TAKE THE DRINK EITHER.

Believe it or not, there are ways to do this without making us look stupid. If a guy offers to buy you a drink, and he's not exactly your cup of tea, politely decline. That will send the same message as taking the drink off the bar and turning your back. Even if you have to use the old "No...really" we'll pick up on it.

In closing I will say for myself, my brother, my friends, and for every single guy out there that we are not the simple creatures you take us for. There was a time where women wanted to be valued and taken seriously, and for the most part you have gotten your wish. The number of successful women in the workplace and elsewhere continues to grow. It is about time you extended the same courtesy. Everybody who will have access to this blog is in their 20s, an age where we as newly ordained adults must start looking for our potential life-partners, the person with which we will raise a family, share happiness and sadness, and God willing see old age with. Ladies, please understand that these things are important to all guys who are worth a damn. Ask any guy whether or not he'd rather experience a lifetime of joy with one woman or mixed success with various women and the answer will more often than not be the one you'd hope for. Unless you're out to prove me and this entire thing wrong, then you can just go to hell. Finally I will tell you that relationships are like anything else, you get out of it exactly what you put into it. Simple Newtonian law. It is a simple philosophical and physical truth that everything in the universe has an exact equal and opposite response. If you approach that handsome fellow at the bar thinking that he will fail, he will fail. If you are open-minded and willing to take a chance on meeting a new person, it is my guess that you will be pleasantly surprised if you simply take the initiative to not turn every guy in the bar into some self-fulfilling prophecy of rejection. Also, if you were to ask the guy a series of questions, you can rest assured you'd find out rather quickly if he was an asshole or not. And so, lady visitors of the Pen15 Blog, I leave it to you to find some good in the man at the end of the bar who is looking for somebody to talk to. Chivalry is very much alive. Get your heads out of your asses. Now how 'bout that drink?

iRule,

R Von D

The Stiller Effect

Being a man of discerning cinematic taste, I can tell you certain things that are as constant as gravity. First off, any movie produced by Jerry Bruckheimer and/or directed by Michael Bay will most certainly feature powerful symphonic music played over slow-moving wide pan shots (See: Pirates of the Carribean, Bad Boys I and II). On the same note, any John Woo movie will feature the protagonist holding two pistols, people being back to back with somebody, and shooting through walls (See: Face/Off, The Replacement Killers). However, these formulaic themes seem to pale in comparison to my favorite movie cliché: In every movie starring Ben Stiller, Mr. Stiller is ALWAYS paired with a funnier person in order to make him seem somewhat humorous. You want examples and proof? Let's ride.

Zoolander (2001):

This movie is arguably the single picture that Ben Stiller will be remembered for when he is dead and gone. Having seen this movie dozens of times and finding new things every time that I watch it, it is apparent to me that once you get over the novelty of "Blue Steel," "Le Tigre," and "Ferarri" all being the same thing, the movie would fall flat on its face if it weren't for the supporting cast. Furthermore, while some people might not realize this, "Zoolander" was made in the year 2001 and featured a then almost obscure Will Ferrell who absolutely stole the show in this movie. From his outrageous outfits, impeccable sense of comedic timing, and even the way he runs in the movie (also note how he throws that "M" Chinese star), Farrell overshadows everybody in the film. I will also be so bold as to say that Stiller's own father outdoes him in this movie as Maury Ballstein.

Along Came Polly (2004):

Anybody who saw this movie would argue that the film didn't need anybody funnier than Ben Stiller because the movie wasn't funny in the first place. However, if you've ever sat down and watched this piece of crap (I actually paid money to see it in the theater), you will undoubtedly notice that Philip Seymour Hoffman, who has proven himself to be one of the greatest American actors in some time, far surpasses Stiller in the realm of hilarity. Anybody who has seen this movie will undoubtedly tell you that the high-point of this film came at one of two moments. The first could come at any time the hilariously out-of-shape Hoffman is playing basketball shouting things like "LET IT RAIN!" or "ICEMAN!" Secondly, and my favorite, was Hoffman's "shart" at the high-class art opening. If you didn't laugh at that part of the movie, you're not human. Plain and simple.

Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story (2004):

To the untrained eye, one might think that "Dodgeball" was Vince Vaughn's movie. I would say that Vaughn's everyman Peter LaFleur was more of a straight-man than comedic genius. My argument would be that Rip Torn's portrayal of dodgeball legend Patches O'Houlihan absolutely stole the show. The first time I heard "If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball!" I almost peed a little. On that note, while he has become sort of a peon in all the rest of his movies, Justin Long takes hits to the face better than anybody I have seen in some time, better than most stuntmen. What makes this Stiller performance even more lame is the fact that he essentially plays the EXACT SAME character that he does in the movie "Heavyweights" which I deduct is the only exception to this rule I am so painstakingly describing.

(Also note, the character of Tony Perkis Sr. is the exact same as the "do it, do it" character from "Starsky and Hutch, which makes that movie inherently lame)

Meet the Parents/Fockers (2000/2004):

I never really liked either of these movies based solely on the fact that the movie revolves around the idea that Gaylord Focker's fiancée is a total bitch who constantly sets him up in front of the parents. Total bullshit. Still, Robert DiNiro, who in real life is probably the unfunniest person alive, still owns this movie. Think about it, how many times has somebody taken two fingers, pointed them directly at their own eyes, and then pointed them at your eyes with a menacing look on their face? Exactly.

Night at the Museum (2006):

Ricky Gervais is the funniest person on the planet. Period. End of story.

There's Something About Mary (1998):

Initially, I will point out that Ben Stillers man-juice is funnier than him in this movie, but that would be too easy. Ask the person next to you their favorite quotation from this movie and they will tell you one of two things. The first would be "Have you seen my baseball" and the other would most certainly be the one about Mary weighting "a deuce, deuce and a half." Go ahead, ask.

In closing I will remind all of you that there is a hilarious episode of the HBO show "Extras" in which the main character (Played by the aforementioned Ricky Gervais) confronts Ben Stiller about being a douche on a movie set, ending the conversation saying "bye, Nerd." Ben Stiller then goes on and on about how he's the man because he "made out with Drew Barrymore, Cameron Diaz, and smacked Jennifer Anniston on the butt," and then tries to convince everybody on the set that it "still counts." While this is probably just pointing out the larger-than-life personas that off-screen celebrities cling to, I can't help but feel that Ben Stiller really would pull that card if pressed.

Two fingers, one love

R Von D

The Fridge's Tax Relief Act of 2007

While I was driving through Somerville, Massachusetts one sunny July afternoon, I realized the problem with this country. Incentives are misplaced. Poor people have no incentive to get jobs. Because of the welfare state that has slowly developed in this country thanks to my Uncle Ted Kennedy, poor people no longer are motivated nor energized to get jobs or educations. So when I saw a grizzled gentleman with a sign that said "I DON'T DEW DRUGS, PLEASE SPARE CHANGE FOR ME," I came up with an idea for a Tax Reform Bill that I hope both the state and federal government will consider. A very simple two step process follows:

Step 1 – Reversal of Tax Bracket Structure

No longer will the rich be taxed at 35%. The richest of rich people pay a grotesquely high proportion of the taxes. If we reversed the tax bracket structure, and these people only paid 14% of their income into taxes, there would be more incentive for the middle and lower classes to become rich. It's too simple. If 50% of the population were filthy rich, 14% of their income would be more than 35% of 2% of the current population's income. The poorest of poor people will be taxed at 35% from now on. They can clearly spare 35% of their income. Perhaps they should consider drinking RC Cola instead of Coca Cola, or Colt .45 instead of Steel Reserve.

Step 2 – The Boston Poor Party
In the spirit of the gallows from the 1700s, it's time for some good old fashioned public humiliation if you disobey my policies. A recent Boston Globe report noted that 2007 has seen an exponential increase in the Jellyfish population in Boston Harbor. I feel that this can be used to my/the United States' advantage. Any citizen not paying their percentage into Uncle Sam's Tax Coffers' will henceforth be pushed into Boston Harbor with their feet and hands tied behind their back. Any poor person who DOES pay their taxes will have the privilege of pushing non-payers into the Harbor. This goes back to my incentive system. All Americans are easily amused (see: Cable Guy, Larry the) and the opportunity to push another human being into polluted, jellyfish infested waters would be frigging fun.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Fridge (R-NH)

A/S/L

My hand was wrapped around the cordless phone. My thumb hovered over the last of seven numbers, for some reason I remember it being a "4". My closed eyes rolled back into my head and down again in unison with probably the biggest breath I have ever taken, my chest heaving outward then back down. A million thoughts racing through my head, running the gamut from sexual, to romantic, to practical outcomes of my actions, and back again. Could I really pull off one of the greatest relationship upsets in junior high school history? I mean, I'll be fair; my looks probably peaked when I was fifteen, but this girl was still way out of my league. The thoughts continued:

"Dude, what's the worst she can say? No? Fuck that."
"She's gonna tell everybody what a lame sack of shit you are."
"Just do it, chicken-shit."
"Hang up."

I pushed the four and immediately hung up afterwards, not even letting the phone ring once. The rest of the night I spent playing Super Metroid. My brother's friend Chris told me that he heard that if you beat the game in under an hour you got to see Samus in her underwear at the end of the game. When you're a fourteen-year-old guy who loves video games, this is SO worth the effort, you don't even know. Shit, a stiff breeze could have gotten me to pop cedar in those days. I later found out that what Chris told me was true, by the way, I accomplished that feat nearly two years ago and needless to say it did not have the same effect on my libido.

What is the point of this you ask? I will tell you, dear reader.

It has come to my attention that fucking kids these days have it way too easy. The internet has effectively killed being as ridiculous as I was during primetime awkwardness. That phone call I was too embarrassed to make has been eliminated and only high-speed internet remains with its sidekick the cell phone. Here is what kids are missing.

The phone call to the house:
I would be hard pressed finding a kid these days who had to make this call. As I recalled in the opening of my ramblings, this was probably the hardest thing in the world to do. Today, all you have to do is get a girls screen name or request her as a friend on Myspace of Facebook and you're golden. You'll know everything about the person without even speaking a word to her. But remember the absolute fear that came with calling a member of the opposite sex. Such a first move took not only huge balls, but actual social skills that many of us did not yet possess, but were trying desperately to see our first real set of boobs. There were also certain dangers that would come from this phone call. First, and the worst possible outcome, would be having to talk to somebody's parents. They would no doubt give you the run-around if the person you were calling was not home. "Who is this?" "Can I take a message?" "Please don't call here again or I'll call the police." These are all things you might encounter and need to be prepared for. I will say that if you were nervous to begin with, hearing the sound of a grown man's voice on the other end of the phone would have me stammering like a retard who was just shown something shiny and pretty. One time I actually said something REALLY inappropriate to a girl's mother thinking it was the girl on the phone. The young lady in question was instructed to tell me never to call their house again. Guess her mom didn't like being called "Cock Breath." Worse yet was an older sibling. More than once I had to deal with this and it was way worse for obvious reasons, especially if I knew the older brother or sister. Furthermore, if I did manage to get the girl on the phone on the first try, I would have nothing to talk about. How uninteresting are adolescent boys? If you weren't talking about farts, video games, sex, or explosives I really didn't have much to add to the conversation. Come to think of it, that is still the case, but fuck you, I added Classical Languages to that list. Also understand that the cell phone at this point was non-existent and my mother refused to get me a beeper because she told me that drug dealers used those to peddle their wares.

Dial-Up Internet:
If the phone call wasn't working for you or you had nobody to call, good ol' dial up internet was there to keep you busy for a short amount of time. I remember being the chat room king; talking to people I didn't know but presumed were my age and wanted to talk shop about what we thought sex was. For the adolescent of the early 90's, this is where we learned everything we needed to know in the shortest amount of time possible. First thing I learned was "A/S/L" which I'm sure all of you know means "Age/Sex/Location." Being a brand new thing to me, I honestly answered this the first time as "14/okay/my room" after it was spelled out for me enough. It wasn't until some time after learning how to find chat rooms that I eventually found out that there were naked pictures of girls on the internet. To date myself, the first girl I ever did a naked search for was Kathy Ireland. Yeah, noodle that for a second. Done? Okay. While by today's standards this would be no big deal, there was something you needed to be careful of. Dial up internet was so slow at this point in the game, that while you were waiting for the image to load on your computer, you were in real danger of being walked in on in the middle of your quest to see tits. My brilliant idea around this was to print these pictures out and hide them in my room until I could have "alone time." However, this left me with two problems. One, my mother found them and didn't say anything, just left them on my bed for when I got home...worst. And also, my father ripped me a new asshole and made me pay for a new ink cartridge for the printer. Jerking off then became a game of cat and mouse around the Davey house, and I was relegated to the shower most times, but my cover was soon blown when I started taking twenty minute showers. I will say that, to this day, I have never been caught masturbating by anybody, but there definitely were some scares. Also, let us not forget that during this stage in the internet's development, people were still paying per minute and your account was subject to close scrutiny from chat room administrators. My brother, god bless him, found both of these things out the hard way when a) the bill came from AOL because he and I changed the dial up number to a long distance one, making our phone bill equal to Peru's GNP and b) when our account got cancelled for him calling some girl a slut in an open forum. We know he called her a slut because AOL was good enough to provide my father with a transcript of the conversation. Also if you had Prodigy, you sucked. AOL was where it was at.

In Person:
If you were lucky enough to escape the chat room and the phone call, the ultimate success was meeting the girl in person. More often than not, I would be too embarrassed to tell my mother where I was going, so I would have to bring a friend along to cover it up and make it look like I wasn't meeting a girl somewhere. My go-to man during those days is no doubt reading this right now. Barry, I never thanked you for all those times I dragged you to see Billy Madison in the theater, but you're the one getting married now, and I live alone writing blogs about the times I almost got caught jerking off in my parents' basement. Who's the big winner today? Barry Warhola. Bravo, old friend. Meeting up with a girl for me one time took a very strange form. It was in the summer, my school year had just ended, and my father was all over me to do some rollerblading before summer hockey started so my legs weren't all wobbly once I got on the ice. This became the perfect cover. I was talking to this girl on the phone who was in 9th grade while I was in 8th grade. The fact that I was older than her really didn't matter because she was a grade older than me, and who can turn down a year's experience. This young lady was brazen enough to ask me if I wanted to go to the movies with her alone. Needless to say I got really excited about this. She asked me what she should wear and I said I didn't care. She then told me that if she wore a skirt it would be easier for me, but didn't want to get her knees dirty. I'm not fucking kidding with you. Can you imagine having this conversation at 14? I thought my head was going to explode. Needless to say I strapped on my rollerblades two days later and traveled to the Nashua Mall where the old theater used to be. A total of about four miles in about 45 minutes. No small task in ninety degree heat, mind you. I'm not going to tell you what happened when I got there, because nothing did. I had no knowledge of periods at that point and I thought the girl was a fucking liar. So I watched "Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls" in absolute disgust thinking I rollerbladed for miles only to sit in a disgusting theater in my socks (they wouldn't let me wear my rollerblades inside) and not even get a tug. Who knew having her period would make a girl back out of a deal like that. Total bullshit…even to this day.

The point of all of this is to vent my frustration at today's youth. It blows my mind and infuriates me that these kids are never going to know the pain and embarrassment that I felt as a young man. Myspace, Facebook, and cell phones have eliminated being a total dickhead loser. I say fuck that shit. I want to see one of these kids try to wait out a picture of Cindy Crawford in a thong with a half stack while the dial up loads the image.

For the record, the girl I was trying to call in the beginning paragraph, I finally did call her and made out with her. To this day it remains one of the single greatest achievements of my life, and I pray to God she reads this. I'm no sentimental asshole; she was that hot and still is.

Peacefrogs,

R Von D