Friday, February 10, 2006

another difference between men and women ...

Friendship Between Women
A woman didn't come home one night. The next day, she told her husband that she had slept over at a girlfriend's house. The man, who was suspicious and a bit jealous by nature, called his wife's 10 best friends and asked if his wife had slept over. None of them knew anything about it.

Friendship Between Men
A man didn't come home one night. The next morning he told his wife that he had slept over at a buddy's house. The woman, who was suspicious and a bit jealous by nature, called her husband's 10 best friends. Eight of them confirmed that he had slept over. The other two said that he was still there, sleeping.


Random Guam Fact Of The Day:
• The Chamorro word for having an affair, or the woman with whom you are having an affair, is achackma'.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

when I was little ... I mean ... younger ...

I've been large for as long as I can remember.

Up to about age 3 or so, I was relatively "normal" in size, but that was the last time I could be considered normal-sized, unless it was contextual — normal size for a sumo wrestler, in comparison to Paul Bunyan's nephew, next to a mountain or giant rock formation.


And when I say "large," I don't mean just fat. I've always been a tall kid too. I was tall and big and strong. Which was fortunate for me, I think. Big AND tall is better than just big, especially when you're also strong ... heh. It meant that kids who picked on me, even a couple of grades higher, often got pummeled. I didn't get teased as badly if I had been a stumpy little fat guy.

It also gave me an advantage in sports. It helped that I was naturally athletic, at least as a kid. I was quick, if not fast. I was coordinated. I could throw, catch and hit in baseball. I had a pretty good touch on the basketball court, and could rebound. Height gave me an awesome hook shot that was tough to block.

In dodgeball, I was murder. They forbade me from playing in school after I hit a jumping kid's feet so hard he flipped upside down in the air and fell onto his collarbone, breaking it. But I wasn't just a demon-hurler. I was hard to hit, despite my size. I could jump, duck and dive, and otherwise evade. I could also catch almost anything thrown at me, earning "lives."

In pickup games around the neighborhood, I had to kick with my left foot (I'm right-footed) in kickball or hit as a lefty in baseball (I'm right-handed) just to make things even for the other team. Even then, I still often kicked and hit home runs.

Yes, as hard as it may be to believe, I was THAT neighborhood kid — the top backyard sports star around. I was the top dog when we would roam around to challenge other neighborhood's kids.


That's me in the middle, getting ready to make a catch in practice.
The size helped me the most in youth football. I was extremely hard to tackle. A few coaches used me as fullback because of that. I was guaranteed from short distance, especially on the goal line. But I also could snap (play center) block, punt, kick, catch, throw and tackle. The only positions I never played in organized football were wide receiver, cornerback and safety, though I did drop back into pass protection as a linebacker at times.

The only time I was anywhere close to "normal" in football was the two years I played while living in Texas, because Texas is serious about its football. Parents have been known to purposely flunk their children so they could get an extra year of growth on them before heading into junior high.

In 8th grade, we were city champs of the B division, for 8th graders, where I played center, offensive guard and tackle in a pinch, defensive noseguard, tackle and roving middle linebacker, and fullback. I converted every extra point I ran that year and scored a few touchdowns. We were undefeated that year.

The next year, we finish as city champs too — Mann Jr. High Falcons, City Champions of Abilene, Texas. GO BIG RED!! Woo hoo!! I played almost always on the line — both offense and defense, depending on where they needed me. I also was moved to kicker after the coaches watched me hit from 35 yards out time and time again. Was strange to see such a huge kicker ... they're usually the tiniest and skinniest guys. LOL

At the time, I was 14, about 6' tall, and weighed about 300 pounds. I also could bench press about 350 and dunk a basketball. I was a monster! LOL ... (Damn I miss being THAT strong and agile).

I only played on more year — my sophomore year hear in Guam at Simon Sanchez High School. We were the Sharks and had a laid-back coach. On the back of my jersey, instead of my name, was "Great White." I still have guys from other schools come up to me on the streets and say, "Hey! You're Great White!" ... LOL

I dislocated my right shoulder after that season in a stupid fight and it effectively ended my football career, which I had some hopes of extending into college and maybe even the pros. But I couldn't move my arm past a certain angle — my shoulder would dislocate when I put on the shoulder pads — Lord knows what would have happened in real contact.

When I was at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, home of the Huskers (again, GO BIG RED!!!), which lasted an entire year, I was approached by an assistant coach. He asked me if I had ever played organized football. I guess being about 6'5" and huge yet not waddling fat played a role in that. When I said yes, he asked me if I'd be interested in stopping by. I told him my shoulder problem story, but he still seemed to think that if I dedicated myself and got into shape and lifted weights to build my strength that I might be able to make the practice squad, and possibly even work my way up to the team.

I passed. The shoulder was really fucked up, I had to concentrate on my studies and, yes, I was lazy too.

Oh well ... c'est la vie!

Random Guam Fact Of The Day:
• Guam has what amounts to a semi-pro league here, call the Miller Football League, featuring teams sponsored by local businesses and stocked with talented graduates of the local high schools, other residents, and members of the miltary.

the early HNT from Guam ... a little overdue

OK ... my online malle', oh so wonderful pointed out in a comment below that I had failed to post my early HNT from Guam. And she was right.

So here it is:

Per a request from Madame X ... DZER's forearms.

Can you tell which one hangs out of the window every day?

LOL


To find out more about Half-Nekkid Thursday,
check out the link, baby:
45113638_202b79dc11


Random Guam Fact Of The Day:
• The Chamorro word for "arm" is "brasu." No specific word for "forearm."

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

the birthday/going-away dinner ...

A friend of mine — L — is leaving the paper and the island and moving to San Antonio to be with her fiance ... so we had a nice little dinner to celebrate her birthday a little early, since she'll be gone when it happens next month, and as a bit of a going-away thing.

Here's the opening pages of the menu. Some good stuff. I had the roast beef salad, bruschetta and the meat sauce gratin — which was basically a meat sauce spaghetti covered in cheese and baked. Yummy.

This me next to L. Well ... you all knew it was me ... and now you know L. If you see her in San Antonio, say hello!

Hmm ... after looking at the above photo after posting, I feel that L deserves a much cuter photo of her on here, one that is much more representative of what she looks like, so here is one from a couple of months ago, at a lunch we had together not too long after I first got the digital camera.

Even this photo doesn't really do her justice. I need to dig through my PDN Christmas party photos to find one that really shows her in an even better light than these other pics. Hmm ... I think I have just the one. Here it is ...

Yes ... much better, don't you think?

mmm ... chocolate cake. It was a dense cake without much sugar ... I guess more European/Italian ... but still good; strong chocolate.

I was going to post something much longer and more involved and deep and witty and funny ... but then I didn't.

Heh.

I hate super lucky bastards

I love to play poker. What I like about it is that, of all the forms of casino-type gambling, it least relies on luck. It's much more important to be skillful, to know the odds, the percentages — to know what the hell you're doing.

I play at two regular games here — one is a mix and medley of different poker games, many of them common to the games I learned growing up, playing cards in the back of the house near the outdoor kitches of the houses of my aunts and uncles after fiestas and parties the like. It's a loose bunch of guys and I really like playing with them. It can get expensive; in most games, the pots get up to at least $40 or $50, but depending on what's being played, you can lose $500 in a few hands.

The other game is strictly Texas Hold 'Em, and the mix of guys playing is extensive — probably about 20-30 guys, but only 10 at a time, so it changes with almost every table. There's no minimum buy-in; most get in for $50 to $100. The blinds are 50 cents and $1, but the game is no-limit — at any time you can go in for everything in front of you.

I played earlier today at the latter game, though at a different location than normal. I played smart poker — no big risks, rarely bluffed, played tight. But I had THREE "bad beats" — hands that I was overwhelmingly ahead in, for most of the hand. I had monster winning percentage odds in each one.

In each one, I got smacked by Fourth Street (once) and on the river (twice).

The first time, I went all in for about $55 on a set of 6's. The guy who called me had two pair. On the river, he hit his full house. Fucker, but at least respectable as he had the two pair before the river.

Second time, I had pocket kings. I bet them hard before the flop. The flop was 9-7-4. Nothing was suited, so I shouldn't have had to worry about potential flush or straight draws — they would have to hit runner-runner to make it, which is very rare. So again, I bet the kings, even harder this time. My bet basically said: I currently have the best hand. And I did. If you had no draws and no pairs on the flop, the correct thing to do is fold. But this guy calls my bet. The turn is an ace, so I check, because if he has one ace, he's got me. But I put him on a low pair, with him hoping to pick up two pair. Last card is a blank — a jack. Doesn't help either of us. I check and he turns over ace-three, unsuited. WTF? The guy had no business in the hand.

The last time, I had ace-king of diamonds. I bet it strong, the same guy from the second time calls me. the flop comes 3 of diamonds, 7 of diamonds, 5 of hearts. I have a four-card flush draw and bet strong. The guy comes over the top, tripling my bet. I call. The turn card is a 10 of diamonds. I now have what is called the "nut flush" — no other flush can beat me. I put him on a lower flush and go all in. He calls. We turn over our hands, I show the nut flush, he shows a pocket pair of 7s. So he has a set. He needs to hit the last seven or to pair the 3, 5 or 10. He's sitting on basically a 5 percent chance to win.

What happens? The 10 of clubs comes.

What's worse is this guy was doing this all night to others — calling bets that he had no business calling. If someone is representing set after the flop and bets big, you don't call hoping to fill an inside straight. Hell, there were times he called big pre-flop bets with hands like 8-3 and ended up hitting two pair on the turn or river. Twice in a row he broke another guy by hitting gutshot straights on back-to-back hands.

I still had some money in my pocket, and about 2 hours of playing time left. But I said "fuck it." As Kenny Rogers sang that sometimes "You got to know when to walk away."

But I'm seriously hoping that he kept playing the same way and got busted by all the others over and over again after I left. But I'm guessing that instead he walks away with at least $500 over what he came there with.

Fucker.

I need to be that crazy lucky once in a while.

*sigh*

Random Guam Fact Of The Day:
• The Chamorro word for "poker chip" is "tanto."

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

heh ... this little thinga-majig amuses me ...

Ten Top Trivia Tips about Duane!

  1. Duaneolatry is the mindless worship of Duane.
  2. If you toss Duane 10000 times, he will not land heads 5000 times, but more like 4950, because his head weighs more and thus ends up on the bottom.
  3. Marie Antoinette never said 'let them eat cake' - this is a mistranslation of 'let them eat Duane'.
  4. The first toy product ever advertised on television was Mr Duane Head.
  5. The deepest part of Duane is over 35,000 feet deep!
  6. Duane can be very poisonous if injected intravenously.
  7. If your ear itches, this means that someone is talking about Duane.
  8. Duane is the male seed of a flower blossom which has been gathered and treated by bees.
  9. All swans in England belong to Duane.
  10. Duane does not have toes.
I am interested in - do tell me about
... OR ...

Ten Top Trivia Tips about The DZER!

  1. Tradition allows women to propose to The DZER only during leap years!
  2. An average beaver can cut down The DZER every year.
  3. The DZER was first discovered by Alexander the Great in India, and introduced to Europe on his return.
  4. Koalas sleep for 22 hours a day, two hours more than The DZER.
  5. You should always open The DZER at least an hour before drinking him.
  6. Women shoplift four times more frequently than The DZER!
  7. Julius Caesar wore a laurel wreath to cover up The DZER.
  8. A The DZERometer is used to measure The DZER.
  9. If you don't get out of bed on the same side you got in, you will have The DZER for the rest of the day.
  10. Twenty-eight percent of Microsoft's employees are The DZER.
I am interested in - do tell me about


almost forgot ... mad props to tequila girl, from whom I stole this thing. heh.

Monday, February 06, 2006

so put your little hand in mine ...

I have, as kathi has noted in some comments, VERY large hands. This little post is dedicated to her ;)

I am by no means ham-handed, but I do have hands the size of hams. When I hold an aluminum can — in either hand — you can't tell if it's Coke, Pepsi or beer, for that matter.

thought this one was "life-size" but it's not

My hands are fairly deft and dextrous. They aren't quite nimble, but they're far superior to serviceable. I can write with them; used to be pretty able with the left hand, even though I'm right handed. I can write backwards and upside-down. I also can draw a bit, but haven't done it much in a long time, other than doodling a bit, which happens in meetings and the like.

My grip isn't as strong as it used to be, when I worked with my hands in physical labor on a much more frequent basis, being the son of a Chamorro blue-collar man who worked with his hands all the time and expected his sons to help out in that labor. That being said, I don't have a weak grip. It's just strong and solid now; no longer is it bone-crushing.

this IS to scale ... click to read the ruler
I held my hand up to the clicked image — same size!

I still rock at the game "Mercy," because I have a relatively high threshold for pain AND the fact that my fingers are very bend — stretchy tendons, I've been told by medical doctors.

Because of the surface area of my palms, I can clap quite loudly. I can snap with either hand. I can deska an ear as good as an experienced Chamorro elder.

Pow, sucka!!

My fists are pretty big — naturally, given the size of the hands, overall. One fist is about the size of a child's head.

Because of various scrapes in my life — mostly from my younger days — my hands host a variety of small scars. Split knuckles from fights. Scrapes from a wipeout on a skateboard, or a rough landing from jumping a bike off a huge ramp. Scratches from silent fights in church with my younger brother — who had wicked sharp fingernails back then. Cat claws. A puppy's too-eager bite. The nip of a prairie dog (long story there; I need to post that one sometime). Paper cuts. A fishook. Sharp, jagged metal. Pencil jabbing. Wall punching.

Hey — I wasn't always as smart as I am now. LOL

I broke my middle finger on my right hand in the 9th grade. Was playing a game of tackle football — no pads — during gym class. It snapped 90 degrees inward, lapping over my index finger, pointing inward. It was pretty painful when the doctor reset it, jerking it back the other direction and then pulling it out until the bones lined up. That's how I learned to be pretty good at writing with my left hand.

Random Guam Fact Of The Day:
• The Chamorro word for "hand" is "kannai."

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Lazy Sunday!

So what did I do with my Sunday?

With apologies to Chris Parnell and Andy Samburg:

Lazy Sunday! Wake up in the late afternoon.
Call Chrissie just to see how she's doin'.
"Hello."
"What up, Chris?"
"Yo DZER, whats crackin’?"
"You thinking what i'm thinking?"
"Diablo II?!"
"Then it's happenin'!"
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Yep. Played an MMORPG for most of the day. Watched some DVDs. Ate some food.

Could have played golf.

Could have done some advance work for week.

Could have cleaned up and rearranged the apartment.

Could have painted the living room.

Could have done the dishes.

Could have went out to get a puppy.

Could have actually left the house for more than the run to Blockbuster and one-choice, two-choice restaurant.

Could have written something deep and meaningful in my blog. Or even just something fun and goofy.

Could have applied myself and finished up a couple of the erotica pieces I've started.

Could have went to the movies. Well, still can, I guess; it's early yet.

Could have started — finally — my novel.

Could have written e-mails to catch up with family and friends. Or letters. Or postcards.

Could have started an exercise regimen. Or just gone to a park to walk around and take photos.

Could have went to Mass. LMAO ... sorry ... but I COULD have!

There are far more things that I could have done, that I SHOULD have done with my Sunday. Still a lot I could do — there are three hours left in the day.

But I didn't. And I won't.

Addendum
The DVDs I watched today:
• Serendipity
Carolina
Apres Vous (yes, a French movie)
In Her Shoes
Corpse Bride
Sin City

i got what you don't got ... I think ...

Stolen from Madame X, who stole it from Top Cat!

1. Name a CD you own that you think none of your blogger friends does:
OK … there’s a chance that ONE other blogger might have this CD, because she lives here in Guam. It’s “Marianas Homegrown,” which features songs from a variety of Guam artists.

2. Name a book you own that you think none of your blogger friends does:
Hmm … besides "The Holy Roman Catholic Bible?" LOL … nah, a few folks might have that … but I’m guessing no one else has “The Limerick: 1700 Examples, With Notes, Variants and Index,” edited by G. Legman, last published in 1969. Thanks grainne! *smooches*

3. Name a movie you own on DVD/VHS/whatever that you think none of your blogger friends does:
“The Muppet Show: Season One” is probably the most “unique” DVD set I own, though how many folks will also have “East Meets West Fuckfest?” … LOL

4. Name a place that you have visited that you think none of your blogger friends has:
This one is kind of tough. Again, since someone is also from Guam, I can’t go with any of the big Guam places. I’ve lived in Okinawa and there’s probably some places there no other blogger has been to … but that’s about it for exotic places. I mean Mexico and Philippines, but those are pretty regularly visited places. So … any of you mugs been to the farm owned by my aunt and uncle on the outskirts of Sedalia, Mo.? Didn’t think so.

5. Name a piece of technology or any sort of tool you own that you think none of your blogger friends has:
Hmm … another tough one. I’m not a big techie, so I don’t have a ton of fancy gadgets. I love tools, but what guy doesn’t, and I don’t have any esoteric implements. I’m gonna go basic here — a hand-crafted machete. Wait … that person probably has one! Damn! Hmm … OK … final answer is … pneumatic wrench — it plugs into my truck’s cigarette lighter and is used to loosen and tighten lug nuts. I LOVE that thing. Heh.