Those of you who know Half will totally get it. If you don’t know Half, well, now you do.
Hat tip to Coma for telling me about Toonlet. This blog is about to get a lot more fun, due to the abundance of characters I’ve known in my life and the amazing things they’ve said. I can think of no better place to start than with the one man quote machine, Rooster. I give you “The Roost, Episode 1”
As we were walking in, I opened the door to walk in, but a man was on his way out and nearly knocked us both down as he bolted from the place. How did I handle this? My instincts kicked in and I stuck my foot out and tripped him. I have to say, I enjoyed it.
I wish I’d thought of that. It’s so much more subtle than tackling. Also more socially acceptable.
I just saw this commercial that features rugby and nothing but rugby. That’s a pretty rare event, and it definitely got my attention. But a 39 year old scrum half? That club must be hard up for players. Not only is that old, but this guy reminds me of my all time favorite inside center. He wasn’t known for his perfect passes as much as he was for spiking people and wearing a green monkey that could hold a pint of liquid.Â So this is for you Toddy.
The Missus just asked if this commercial made me want to go to that church. Nah, not really, but it made me want to write this post, and it made me glad to be retired from rugby. 🙂
When I first got hit with this meme by BillyMac, I thought the topic was “3 Things I Wouldn’t Let Go”. That one would be pretty easy–family, health, and some other random item.
But this is “3 Things You Haven’t Let Go”, which has a much different conotation. Maybe I’m inferring it incorrectly, and it’s vague enough for interpretation, but I take this as “3 Things I Haven’t Let Go (but probably should)”. Believe it or not, this is a part of my character I’ve really worked on over the past few years. I’ve really tried to develop “the ability to let that which does not matter truly go.” Despite my best efforts, I still have plenty options. After all, I am powered by spite.
As I’m trying to narrow it down to the top three, I’m realizing how much I don’t want to admit any of this publicly. It’s not the fear of baring my soul that’s holding me back–it’s the realization of how stupid they all are. All instances of forgiven, but not forgotten. In order of increasing ridiculousness on my part…
Las Vegas August, 2005
I was going out for a weekend with about 15 other guys. Soon after booking my ticket I saw that there were UFC fights that weekend, so I asked some other guys if they wanted to go. I could only buy eight tickets, and as soon as seven other guys said they were in, I bought 8 together. $100 per ticket before all the taxes and charges. Not a problem–these guys are all local and they all have jobs. I’ll get my money back this week, right? Wrong. But that’s not the worst part. Literally thirty minutes before the fights I met up with the final two guys who owed me for their tickets. They walked up with two other guys who I didn’t know, paid me for the tickets, and turned around and sold them for $200 each to the other guys right in front of me! Chuck Liddell is lucky he didn’t have to fight me that night.
I was living in a dump of a house in Ft. Sanders with two other guys–$300 rent. We split the electric and basic phone service evenly, but if anyone had long distance calls they had to pay it themselves. The month he moved out, one of my roommates had $37 worth of long distance calls to his girlfriend in California. By the time the bill came, he was gone, and the other guy and I had to eat it. Sure, not a lot of money, but at the time it was, and besides it’s the principle. I never got the money back from him, but I did hit him in the back with a folding chair (part of the height of my pro-wrestling obsession) in Long Branch one night when he was playing pool. Surprisingly, it didn’t make me feel any better.
St. Patrick’s Day Rugby Tournament, Savannah Georgia, 2000
We had a pretty solid team, and were scheduled for a Sunday morning match. Of course we’d all gone out on and had fun on Saturday night. At game time on Sunday, we only had 12 guys there. We started the match shorthanded, and when the other guys finally rolled up, I was infuriated. I didn’t even want them to come into the game–my preference was to take an ass kicking and let them sit and watch it. After the match (we lost) I refused to shake their hands. I love all of those guys, but I haven’t let the fact that they didn’t show up for us that morning go. I could have stayed in Knoxville if all I wanted to do was drink beer and not play rugby. Under certain conditions and in the presence of certain people, this one still sends me into a mild rage.
See the common thread here? All cases of being let down by friends. So I guess that is my biggest pet peeve? Possibly.