Phil and Colleen’s wedding

Holy shit… Best wedding in a long time, besides mine of course. More lobster, king crab legs, man nipples, and chocolate covered bacon than I’ve ever seen. Here’s the best of, the rest will be put somewhere more dignified.

In case you have products to place

Digging through some emails I found this keeper, that was a random response that dropped into a thread of emails with a few people I know. Maybe it will come in handy for you…

Dirty Jersey

In the past, I’ve had a knack for working at great companies that turn shitty. Arnet(te) will always be one of the greatest companies I will ever have worked for. I was lucky enough to work there early in the game, before the lawsuits, before the name change, and before being run into the ground after being bought twice (last count I know of anyway.) I found this letter from 10 years ago after digging into more moving boxes. It’s from Bruce Beach, living in SoCal but not forgetting his Jersey roots…

Longest move ever

I moved into my new house on New Year’s Day last year. I’ve been in a state of perpetual moving, with about 75% of my boxes unpacked almost a year later. I’ve been digging into some of them lately, and found this great letter from my short
run as a rep for Salomon Snowboards. After telling a shitty ski shop they were too shitty to carry the new line (which actually was good at one time) they sent this letter to my boss, Bryan. This asshole (the owner’s son, not Bryan) wasn’t even smart enough not to use his skier stationary left-over from the 60’s, and could never possibly comprehend how much his shop sucked. Between idiots like this and Perry at Slackers, that was reason enough to stop repping…

October 13

I grew up with Dave. He loved blowing things up, shooting guns, jumping out of planes, and anything else that could somehow get you in trouble. When he decided to leave school and join the Navy for the sole purpose of becoming a SEAL, I was less than encouraging based his odds of accomplishing that goal. We were competitive and he proved me wrong, for which I couldn’t have been happier. He achieved his life dream and constantly reminded me that he couldn’t believe he was getting paid to blow things up. After serving as a SEAL for 9 years, he was killed in a base-jumping accident three years ago today. He was one of my closest friends, and the three years that have gone by have done nothing to change how shitty this day is every year.

I suck

Holy shit do I suck at keeping various web sites up to date. I’m am making it a mission of sorts to get the huge pile of photos I have set aside up here once and for all.

Life has a way of getting nuts, and as a western friend of mine used to say, I have too many pokes in the fire right now.

Coming out of hibernation

There’s been 6 months of serious lagging on this site. Recognizing this back around New Year’s, I had the intent of doing a “You Are Next Year in Review” to catch up. Obviously that never happened, so here’s a quick summary of what’s been going on and I’ll be back on track:

• No more van, and there’s a new car that eBay paid for. Take a moment of silence for the van, life will never be the same…
• New house,
  just outside the utopia of Philadelphia.
• A few trips here and there. Lots of time at the beach.
• Lots of good shows in Philly.
• Lance and Vanessa’s wedding in
  Stowe.
• Rail jam in Atlantic City. The Donald puts on a snowboard event on the boardwalk.

Consider this site back on track…

The Van

My van, which has a solid following and plently of nicknames had a near death experience last week, in the typical way things in my life tend to happen.

After getting the rear end replaced a few months ago (apparently not all that well), it decided to crap out on the Garden State Parkway on the way to New Hampshire, in one of New Jersey’s several armpits, Hackensack. It got just far enough before it seized up to get to a parking lot. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, it almost got scrapped, but is now getting fixed and given a second chance for the bargain price of $2700.

Drunk magnet

Last week I ended up in Tulsa, Oklahoma for work and a few minutes of sight seeing. Aside from the ominous Oral Roberts University, Tulsa looks like it was bought out of some town catalog and dropped in place, since it’s 95% made up of chain stores and restaurants, except for the few local businesses that rise above, like Rocket Lube, The Glamourama, and Lady Godiva’s.

As you can tell by the only postings I’ve put here, I’m a drunk magnet, and this trip proved no different. Whenever I end up in a new town, I always ask the local waiters where the shittiest bar in town is that they don’t go to. Since the waitress here tried to dupe us into going to a gay bar called the Toolbox in a shady Mexican neighborhood, we decided we’d find our own and succeeded when we reached the Southside Pub. Aside from a bunch of locals playing pool in the back, it was just two of us and this drunk woman. After asking me to dance and being denied, she kept waving us over until I finally broke down. This was the conversation that started, unobstructed by her missing teeth:

Her: “Grab a seat.”
Me: “No.”
Her: “Grab a seat.”
Me: “Okay.”
Her: “Do you want to have an affair?”
Me: “No, I’m married.”
Her: “You’re pretty. Are you an alcoholic?”
Me: “No, I’m trying though.” (her laughter, that then turned into a hacking cough)
Her: “Do you want to have an affair?”
Me: “No, I’m married.”
Her: “Can I have a kiss?”
Me: “No. How about a photo instead?”
Her: “Noooooo.”

Point to Point

Sunday was Delaware’s Point to Point horse races, one of the year’s highlights for people who like to get drunk. Some people get dressed up, lots don’t bother, but just about everyone gets shitfaced like this disaster partying next to our parking spot. When she finally fell to the ground, it was like a building coming down…