Let's Try One More Time

If you have read this blog at all, you know how much The Girlfriend and I like going to see the Predators play. Hell, we moved to Nashville just for the games. I haven't talked about them much since they got booted from the playoffs, but a few things have happened in the last 24 hours and I feel that I need to relay them.

The sale of the team was announced last night. There was a lot of "What the hell are we gonna do now?" going on at casa de Bat. If they move, we are gonna move. Not with the Preds, we will pick another town and root for their hockey team. Tampa Bay is the most likely candidate.

Tonight, we had an appointment to select our seats for next year. What the hell. We have at least one more year here, so this is where our seats are at for the 2007-2008 season. Don't hate the player, hate the game. We worked something called the "Flex Plan" last year and our seats were all over the arena. This time around, we will be in section 114, seats 16 and 17 for each game we attend. I'm telling you, these seats are the bomb diggity.

Finally, on the way home from the arena tonight we were listening to sports radio and heard this:

"So, Jordin Tootoo and Kelly Pickler are officially an item, huh?"

"Yeah, I wonder if Jordin bought Kelly her Stanley Cups."

Ya gotta be a true hockey fan to appreciate the humour in that statement.

Mommy! It Burns!

Just a quick note to say that if you order the Diablo Combo at Judge Beans BBQ , you should remember that any food that burns going into your body is likely to do the same coming out. My tender cinnamon ring shall never be the same.

In other news, the most heartbreaking thing I have ever seen happened Saturday. My sweet, lovable golden retriever, Daisy did a horrible thing. As I was coming out of the bathroom, brushing my teeth, I turned the corner to see Daisy sitting in the living room waiting for me. In her mouth, she was holding one of these: Intellectually, I know it's what dogs do, sweet and gentle or not. Emotionally, I feel like I've raised a vicious killer dog.

Misspent Youth

In the fall of 1987, I was a sophomore at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville. Three of my fraternity brothers and I had moved out of the dorms into a ramshackle house on the edge of Fort Sanders on the corner of 13th Street and Forest Ave. Jorge and I shared a room and a proclivity for drinking beer and blowing off class. Most of my classes were on the hill (the original campus) which was a moderate walk from our new digs.

Across the street from our home in the hood was a joint called "Vatican Pizza" which was known primarily for three things. A lit bust of Elvis Presley on the counter top, the place was run by a band call "Jesus Chrysler" (when I google the name now, I find a band based in Minnesota, I don't think they are the same), and the best damn calzones to be found in K-town.

On Tuesdays, the only class I had was my chemistry lab at six in the evening. A sure recipe for disaster. Jorge would blow of his morning classes (by morning I mean noon or so, Jorge didn't last long at UT), we would get a twelve pack of Busch and a couple of calzones from the Vatican and spend the afternoon playing Risk on the front porch.

One such Tuesday, I had my fill of beer and getting my ass kicked playing a stupid board game and actually decided to attend my chemistry lab. I grabbed my barely used backpack, threw my last empty at Jorge and walked toward class with the sound of "Have fun, sucker!" ringing in my ears.

I made my way to Beuhler Hall (believe it or not, Beuhler was either next to or in front of Ferris Hall, I don't remember which) where my lab partner was just as surprised to see me as I was to be there. I don't remember much of the chemistry, but there was something about an experiment with strong acids and strong bases and the end result was an eruption from a beaker that ate my lab partners workbook and burned holes in his clothes.

Moral of the story, beer and chemistry do not mix. I wonder what ever happened to my lab partner? Hell, I wonder what ever became of Jorge.

'Cause I Can't Think Of Anything To Write

This picture was leaning against my monitor last night. My life is really good.