Shyne

Who’s at my door?

Yesterday, in the hot minute I have between getting home and starting dinner, I managed to unpackage my new X Pole and get it into its carrying case home.  I was just about to start up the stairs with it (this thing is freaking heavy!!) when someone knocked on the door.  With pole still in tow, I went over to the door and looked through the glass.

We have the goofy kind of glass that you can only sorta see through and the person outside can certainly see you if you've come to the door.  When I looked out, I only saw jeans and sneakers and assumed it was Lovey's BFF.  As such, I opened the door only to be stared in the face by two gentlemen sporting Comcast shirts.

Slightly confused, I blurted out, "We don't have Comcast".  Oh, I should mention that I've been getting phone calls for the last two days trying to confirm my appointment with Comcast.  Coincidence?  My opening line didn't even faze these guys.  They jumped right in with their sales pitch.  Went a little something like this: (CG1 & CG2 are Comcast Guys)

CG1: Yes, we know you don't have Comcast, that's why we're here.

Me:   Oh.  Well, unless you can give me every football game every week, I'll NEVER switch to Comcast.

CG2: (in a kinda nasty tone) Oh, you're one of those people.  Sunday Direct Ticket.

Me:   That's right.

CG1: Well, you know, you're paying a whole bunch extra for just a couple of good games…

Me:   Look, I'm Pittsburgh born and raised.  I WILL see my Steelers, in my house, on my TV, every week, without fail, end of story.

CG2: (eye roll)

CG1:  Okay, okay.  Well, who do you have for your phone and internet service?

Me:   (at this point, the pole is REALLY heavy and I want them to go away but can't bring myself to just shut the door…time to embellish a little)  Ugh, I don't know.  BellSouth, I think.

CG1:  Well, if you don't mind me asking, how much do you pay a month?

Me:   (I kinda do mind you asking so now I'm going to flat out lie to you.)  Look dude, I don't know.  I don't pay the bills.  That's not my job.  It's also why I don't care how much DirecTv costs, how much Sunday Ticket costs, or how much the phone costs.  (I know what providers we have and where every penny goes.)

CG1:  (totally deflated)  Well, okay.  Thanks for your time.

Me:  No problem.

Close door.

So the real question is, since when did Comcast start going door-to-door like they're Jehova's Witnesses?!?! (no disrespect to the Jehova's)

Day 2 of 90 – the torture continues. Now with 23!

If you’re reading this, you’re either in the ‘hood or you’ve been invited depending on which site you’re reading.  I’ve been forced into lockdown mode due to The Man snooping around.  As with most folks, there are some things that I feel The Man doesn’t need to know.  Wait, make that I feel that The Man doesn’t need to know anything about me.  Isn’t that just terrible?  No matter, my time on lockdown is limited and soon I will return to my full-on, open to the world blogging.

Due to a lack of football and my really missing it, I run my countdown football style.  Right now we are closing out the final week of the season.  So, do the math and you can figure out when my own personal Super Bowl is.  I keep a note where it can be seen at all times and I actually borrow a line from OchoCinco reminding myself to be great every day.  It also reminds me how far along in the season I am and also to stay in the game.  I’m around 95% sure that anyone else who saw my little note would just shrug it off as “man, she’s crazy” and that’s just the way I like it.

Today’s P90X torture was Arms and Shoulders plus Abs.  I was able to make it through Arms and Shoulders, but the Ab workout was the most horrific thing I’ve ever seen or tried.  I am no stranger to ab workouts either.  I typically get two good ones in a week over at ye ole pole class, but this blew those away.  All I can do is be hopeful that the next time that workout rolls around that my abs will bring their A game.  On the up side of all of this, my clothes are starting to fit a lot better and I’m overall feeling better about myself.  So, SCORE!

Do you want to read about wedding stuff?  Maybe?  Okay, well skip ahead if you don’t and keep going if you do.  All is going swimmingly with the planning.  Not really much to do and I like it that way.  Still have to dress the child and the groom (which somehow is my responsibility…the child, sure, but the groom should be able to handle this on his own) but I do at least have ideas for them.  Even though I bought my dress over a month ago, I don’t have my first fitting for another month still.  By then, I should be well on my way to a rocking hawt bod.  Must resist the temptation to buy a shit ton of new clothes for honeymoon week.

I’ll keep this from getting too long-winded here.  I hope that all my readership is well and as always, I thank you for visiting.  Come back tomorrow for more rambling from my slightly bent mind. 🙂

Day 1 of 90 – The torture begins

Hi there. 🙂

So, as you may or may not know, in 89 days, on a beautiful beach in Cancun, I'll be sporting a wedding dress and getting married to my Lovey. Pretty normal to want to look your best for that particular occasion, no? In anticipation for this festive occasion and all of the bikini wearing madness that will go along with it, today I started P90X. If you're at all like me and can't help but to watch infomercials, maybe you've seen it. What it boils down to is it's a workout that tries to kill you. Yay!

There's no real working your way into it on the first day or in the first week. This guy just throws it at you like you're learning dodgeball from Patches O'Houlihan. "If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball!" Typically, I don't get sore from a good workout until the next day. I'm already feeling it 12 hours later. Doesn't make for a good sign for tomorrow.

As with any exercise program, they give a diet to go along with it.  Usually I ignore these types of things and just try to eat healthy, but this time, I'm going to try to not follow it exactly, but at least try to come close.  One of the biggest issues is having to eat 5 smalls a day.  If you're not accustomed to it, it's a lot harder than one would think.  Breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner.  And another snack before bed if I get hungry.  So. Much. Food!  I guess I need it to stay functional though.

I have a feeling that lifting my arms tomorrow may be a challenge…..

It’s Time To Take A Step Back

Dear Ben,

I'm sure that there are plenty of letters just like this one out there, some nicer than others, but all with the same theme of "Really, Ben?!?!"  I had to re-open my blog for this.  I'm serious.  I don't think for a minute that you'll find your way to my blog to read this, but I hope that you find your way off of the road you're currently riding down.

When, exactly, do you think you're going to come to the realization that you're a target?  Not just on the field, either.  You can't scratch your, ugh blorf, hairy ass without it hitting the media.  So, yeah, happy birthday.  28, huh?  Time to grow up.  You're actually quite overdue to tell the truth.

Let me put this as plainly as I possibly can, Ben.  Keep your dick in your pants.  If you aren't pointing that at a urinal, it should remain put away.  Look, I wasn't there so I don't know what happened.  What I do know is this is the second time in too short of a time period, although a second time EVER would've been too short of a time period.

Here's a newsflash for you, Ben:  There are no chicks in jail.  Or, at least none that have actual vaginas.  Maybe you will think about that the next time you're hammered and out having a good time.  I think that time is gonna be a little while down the road though, because I also think you're going to do a little time.

If, by some chance, you get out of this, I'm going to make a suggestion.  Since it is obvious that your boys aren't looking out for your best interest, what you appear to need is a WingWoman.  Your WW will keep your simple, drunken ass in line.  She isn't interested in you in the least little bit and won't be afraid to kick you square in the nuts if you step out of line.  If she can't keep you from getting TOO drunk, she'll at least be there to keep you out of trouble.  She can fend off some of these chicks who are strictly looking for a quick payday and hey, maybe even introduce you to someone that'll keep you in line permanently.

It's one thing, Ben, if you want to throw away your career and everything you've worked for if it affected only you.  That is not the case and you know it.  You have teammates and coaches who count on you.  You have little boys and girls around the country who looked (notice the past tense) up to you as a role model.  You have, not a city, not a state, but an ENTIRE NATION of people who are shaking their heads right now, wondering why and possibly watching their season go up in flames long before it even starts. 

Let me get off of my soapbox because it isn't as though I've never done anything wrong.  I had a police incident once too. I actually was young (14) though, and I didn't hurt anyone.  I'm sure a lot of people are telling you a lot of different things right now.  Hopefully you'll be able to filter out the information that you actually need and put it to use before you've alienated everyone, lost your job and do some time.  Oh, and by the way, stop trying to live that stupid party like the white boys song!

With dwindling love and respect,

MiamiShyner