tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63214193236044390702024-03-13T10:04:40.748-07:00Prone to HyperboleSeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.comBlogger81125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-43696178835189859842010-01-17T16:24:00.000-08:002010-01-17T16:36:07.467-08:00Goodbye Blogspot<div><div>Dear Loyal Readers,</div><div><br /></div><div>After much delay, the new site is finally up. From now on, my blog is going to be posted on <a href="http://www.seanbloggyblog.com">www.seanbloggyblog.com</a>. Check it out. There are a couple new posts already up. I plan on being a bit more frequent with the posts now as it's infinitely easier to do a post on there than it was on blogspot so it won't be as time consuming for me. It had gotten really brutal on this stupid site so it was time for a change. It's really fun to work on there now that I'm starting to get the hang of it and there will be some new features (ok maybe just one or two). So, if you haven't given up due to lack of posting as of late, definitely check out the new site. My corresponding farewell to blogspot is below. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Cheers,</div><div><br /></div><div>Sean</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Dear Blogspot,<div><br /></div><div>This letter is meant to inform you that your hosting services will no longer be required for my blog. You served a purpose for a while, but, well I don't know how to say this, so I'll just say it. My blog is too good for you. Here's the problem. Uploading pictures is brutal. It puts them all at the top of the page, then you have to manually drag every single one down the page. And you can't even do that on a Mac. You have to do it step by step. In the meantime, it screws up the text, putting in unnecessary spaces, disconnecting words and even sentences. Aside from that, you have limited capabilities as far as fonts, links, and general formatting. Due to all these difficulties, as I have previously hinted, I have now launched a new site for my blog. Please don't call me or e-mail. It will only make things worse. It's best if we simply part ways here before things get awkward. I wish you the best. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Slightly Spitefully, </div><div><br /></div><div>Sean</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-40406539859277477542010-01-09T09:12:00.000-08:002010-01-09T09:42:38.712-08:00Catching UpSo I got caught up over the holidays doing a lot of running around like everyone else. Then work kicked up in full swing immediately after the holiday so I didn't even have a minute to do anything but work and eat. Today is Saturday though, so here's the first of two posts on the day, one of which may become the first post on the new Apple-controlled blog site. I don't really have a whole lot to say having not seen the light of day lately but I do know that last night Carrie and I stayed in so that we could win the Olympic medal count in Mario & Sonic at the Winter Olympic Games. To finish though, you have to beat or tie ghost Bowser and his ghost koopas in a game of hockey with Bowser playing goalie. How fair is that? That fat bastard doesn't even have to move. But, at long last, I finally scored a goal with Sonic and we went ballistic. I almost threw my remote through the window, kind of like hockey players slam themselves against the glass in real life when they score goals. So those warnings that Wii shows everywhere about the remote are directed at me, not 6 year olds. Who knew?<div><br /></div><div>Absent anything meaningful to talk about because I'm still brain dead from this week, here are a few interesting links that I came across recently. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.nbcchicago.com/news/local-beat/chicago-police-scrap-entrance-exam-80790827.html">http://www.nbcchicago.com/news/local-beat/chicago-police-scrap-entrance-exam-80790827.html</a> (This is real)</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.theonion.com/content/video/vh1_reality_show_bus_crashes_in">http://www.theonion.com/content/video/vh1_reality_show_bus_crashes_in</a> (DON'T LOOK AT THIS WHILE AT WORK). This is a bit more obscene than I like to put up but damned if it's not funny. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XNtTEibFvlQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XNtTEibFvlQ </a></div><div>(I guiltily laughed hysterically the first time I saw this but have we really sunk so low? I'm never having children) </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Song of the day:</div><div><br /></div><div>Hockey - Curse This City</div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-42505954719142454722010-01-01T19:23:00.000-08:002010-01-01T19:55:10.094-08:00Happy New Year<div style="text-align: left;">So here I am in my apartment. It's New Year's Day Eve or whatever you call the night after New Year's Eve, my hangover is long gone, and THE Ohio State Buckeyes just played their best game of the year against a very good Oregon team and ended an embarrassing run of poor performances in big games. If I were Jim Tressel, I would just run for governor now. If I were Terrelle Pryor, I would hit the town with a hot young female movie star or three before I head back to the groupie scene in Columbus. Now I decided to hit the computer instead of watching all the fights that are about to happen as the fine, upstanding young men from Cincinnati continue to get smoked by the finer, upstanding young men from Florida. </div><div><br /></div><div>New Year's is always a touchy evening. You have to do something but expectations usually never met unless you're me and your expectations stay low. People are out everywhere, cabs are scarce, and it's freezing cold. It's a night that can either be moderately fun if all goes well or a complete fiasco the other 70% of the time. After some years of experience, I have decided on a few basic rules:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>1) Chicago is cold. Don't party hop. </div><div>2) Cabs are tough to find. Take no prisoners. If you have to throw bows, or trip somebody, do it. </div><div>3a) No all-you can drink specials. You will never, ever get $100 worth of drinks or fun. </div><div>3b) Try to coerce a friend to throw a party if no one initiates. If no one wants to, throw a party yourself. Carrie and I did this last year. This year Graham hosted. Parties are good.</div><div>4) Plan ahead. Go to the grocery store and buy yourself a couple different kinds of hangover food. It's important to realize that you may not feel like making breakfast in the morning. So, if no one is going to serve you and you don't want to move, buy food that involves minimal thought or preparation. Normally, I like homemade stuff so this is a big departure for me, but I executed this to perfection this year. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJRQsk5Ydq0rm56odsoDcUDAhs9V3df7r68OUwXKgkKroOYf4smuKpR2hNvjehzr-XVDBUuN0U_hyphenhyphenTSiUrhCO-2gotzRKVLgY8ts_WYpe0JaKUMVcaf58IUIOc-5E7LiCVPM5nWiOSDKA/s320/IMG00120.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421981167831916242" /><div style="text-align: left;">5) Don't make plans for New Year's Day. Stay home. Do nothing, unless you're my mom and you got tickets to the Rose Bowl. That is the only exception. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For the record, it's a good thing I bought both because both got some good use today. Chips and salsa also came into play. Lastly, a meatloaf sandwich for dinner capped off a fantastic relaxing day. Now, after having read Ephesians 2:8-10 per Tim Tebow's left and right cheeks, the world is my oyster. Now, for the rest of my night. Do I watch the rest of The Fellowship of the Ring, which we started this afternoon? Maybe some backgammon? Maybe some Wii? Happy New Year and cheers to four-day weekends. Go Bucks! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Song of the Day:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Department of Eagles - Phantom Other</div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-67704713526188452942009-12-22T11:03:00.000-08:002009-12-22T14:04:14.997-08:00Where Dignity Goes to Die...So I'm making preparations for Christmas over the weekend and had to make the trip I hope to avoid every year...Michigan Avenue. Unfortunately for my brother's wallet and my dignity, my niece Madison loves American Girl dolls, so I went to pick one up so that Brian can be the great dad he is and make her Christmas a great one. I'm not sure whether this ordeal makes me a good brother or uncle or neither since I'm not paying for it but I'll pretend like it's both. So I put my game face on and make my way down to Michigan Avenue, arriving at 9 am on the dot the morning of December 20 to avoid the throngs of people that will not only make navigation difficult beginning at 11 am, but more importantly will make my remaining sanity impossible to keep.<br /><br />So I make my way into and through the monstrosity that is American Girl Place, seeing doll hair salons, doll makeup stations, and dolls from every race, every nationality and from every economic background with every single interest under the sun. The politically correct air inside the store nearly choked me to death. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I hear "we wish you a happy kwanzaa, we wish you a happy kwanzaa." What??!! That's not the song! <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejXu4yP30v8">The song basically went exactly like this</a> and I can't believe such behavior is widespread enough that I can find it on youtube. What are they doing to these poor kids? Look at the little blond boy they zoom on who is doing just fine until they start singing "we wish you a rockin ramadan." Poor kid has no idea what's going on or why his teachers won't let him sing the second part of the real song. Doesn't kwanzaa have its own songs that people who celebrate it can sing? I know Hanukkah does. So does Christmas, that's why they're <em><strong><u>CHRISTMAS</u></strong></em> songs.<br /><br />Our world has basically turned into a sick PC joke...a black hole really, with American Girl Place being the singularity. Random sidenote, I saw this bumper just chilling against my building the other evening. Not sure whose it was or why they just gave it up but they left it, license plate and all. Two weeks later, it's still there.<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418176659220749938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl3waqiAQNGZsSQ0kKn26fjm_5bm2uKfMWa8dIvYvKFe11CYYQx2Ax6dVqjx2wsuTXRZ3E9pzB6X7ytiGbCqvMXx53wn1r2Rxujh5RS3HhUXOZmNk2pYkcpm_bNTxi7pw4d04dadNcNH0/s320/IMG00116.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The story ends like this: I'm completely overwhelmed in American Male Hell so I forget which doll I was supposed to get. I have Rebecca in my hand but then I see Felicity, which sounds really familiar. I make a very un-PC executive decision and figure my niece (who's not Jewish) would not ask for a Jewish doll so logically deduce that Felicity is indeed the correct doll. I put back Rebecca and her Chanukkah dress and shawl and reach for $100 Felicity and her $24 Puritan bonnett and frilly whatevers. WRONG! By the time I get the text message that I got the wrong doll, I'm long gone and it is long past the time where going to Michigan Ave means certain death. In my defense, the reason Felicity rung a bell is because Madison already has a Felicity doll and in the irony of ironies, my only other trip to American Male Hell was to pick up said Felicity doll a year or two ago. God (can I say God? Should I not capitalize? Tell me what's right and wrong American Girl Place. Please!) bless Carrie, who went today to exchange Felicity for Rebecca to save me from further agony. </p><p>I'm actually happy about Maddie's decision though, despite the inconvience of me getting the wrong doll, for a couple reasons. 1) She selected a doll from another culture without any knowledge or care about religion, culture, whatever. That's 100x better than politically correct, where instead you try to dance around everything as if it's a problem that you need to tread around very lightly. We only facilitate and solidify negative stereotypes by doing this. Hopefully that innocence continues for her. 2) Rebecca is the first American Girl doll I've ever seen that is decently cute but she does still have buckteeth with a gap in between them. After all, you wouldn't want to go too far towards attractiveness - that would damage self-image and wouldn't be PC at all.<br /><br />So enough negativity, Christmas is always exciting. My mom is coming out to Chicago for the famous Baizer Christmas Eve party on Thursday, then we will drive back to Columbus for the not-so-famous-but-still-very-enjoyable Tracy Christmas on Friday. With that, "Good tidings we bring to you and your kin. Good tidings for <strong><em><u>CHRISTMAS</u></em></strong> and a Happy New Year!"<br /><br /><br /><br />Song of the Day:<br /><br />Animal Kingdom - Two by Two</p>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-77884486933407633182009-12-15T19:40:00.001-08:002009-12-19T20:22:24.061-08:00End of Spain, new material soon...<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="left">I'm kind of done talking about Spain as you are also done reading about it but just had to put out a couple more things from the trip. Blogspot.com officially sucks because I can't format anything on here including this centered text and I hate it. I always have. But I love seanbloggyblog as a name so I've stuck with it. But Blogger, you suck so bad, I don't even care anymore so heed my words, if I get iLife for Christmas, you are going down. For all of you who still read my nonsense, stay tuned for a possible new web address, hopefully with archives intact. So with that, I'll leave you with these few videos from the tail end of our trip, which ended in Madrid.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyObFSz0Z1E">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyObFSz0Z1E</a></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="left"></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="left"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHQPQnyoHx8">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHQPQnyoHx8</a></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="left"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVU3Y-XJpvE">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVU3Y-XJpvE</a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And this serene picture....</div><div> </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417167942230576322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKY2WbDhdkzGKfPaukWuAenGnv5Y_BnPEzeBdNQ2PX4cYuEOuT1Q5LSevX8_oK8XSsyN1ZyUi-SC6G1NRME_T-HcM1KhbGiQzui6cg_AyE5Tg_q4TsCVx-5y3CFsjBkT5oCKbE4VD1tg/s320/seanspain.jpg" /><br /><div>Ok, for real this time...<br /></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415675469872528418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiqgMOpzrLuLN1QVmxQyA5pmfl824gSxxf1gOS3MIfU83ANsFDtthILzJtOL6W0Ih2GFkh1TaMpQlcgL1ihB1XMWfYxKGB124ufQXyIQcDfQv8FKw7piTILfACQDkeAlWPj-pJQUYZ3fQ/s320/P1030269.JPG" /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">Daniel Merriweather - Change</div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-5083841291097942682009-12-12T06:10:00.000-08:002009-12-13T08:53:16.442-08:00Guess Who's Back? (and has been for a week)<div style="text-align: left;">Before I move on to the rest of the Spain trip, just a bit more about Barcelona after seeing Carrie's pictures. First, one more thing about La Sagrada Familia. This picture is of the stairwell (with no railing) that wound from top to bottom. I was dizzy by the time we got down. Somehow I don't think this was built to code....</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOR-GPvvCeUSOej6odK3wrOdoiDMLHwjh3plK3mVfUcpJwVzvhyphenhyphenjHPdFm0FbYnwvCsBwofhYKe2ci-qnEGFwOMUDO0iP1AVBeo2OUFURFbb_2ZsDiqrsLtBLi6v36rJ_m2XVojjjKpOJo/s320/IMG_1390.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414366141330897042" /></div><div>Also, for any food lovers out there, we went to a phenomenal restaurant in Barcelona called Cinc Sentis, where we were notified and showed that it was truffle season.</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuXYMs357xTmqG0bBftnOtLDHkceUgrJ4udxUhC6LhvZJ5ySQv6Obh88dmuGPeBsJAeLpusTjb8MUaqKT7e9PW3u9irI65Z_eBuKFJr7JJUKfdfiuTPkCetCFlb3QRZajYcMvbmZ1TmZc/s320/IMG_1356.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414366136034669682" /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Yes, that is a massive white truffle that they shaved onto our dish and it was glorious. Last part about Barcelona. Carrie took a v<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mfhyz5bwMbQ">ideo of a choir singing</a> outside one of the many old churches when we first got into town. The only thing goofier than hearing a song from Grease in a foreign country is hearing it sung with an accent.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>From Barcelona, we rented a car and headed towards San Sebastian. We tried to take the backroads whenever possible and were handsomly rewarded for this. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_yWU02f30qUF7CBkSopCg97kImFl7bstlsOo0A1wvLvjZT1qImE06G4FNezGZ8QgVogoPgEkI37MD0KXKQo8Mj_tvMy5-DNKOR13J0-URYJDsNJvdv8X-_OW398t76-TLQBbaGBL3RI/s320/IMG_1434.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414358653907828194" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We ran into some pretty difficult weather in the mountains on the way from Barcelona to San Sebastian. Had some icy sleety snowy wintry mix type stuff and I was getting nervous. I told our car that if it got us to San Sebastian safely, we would name it. Carrie decided that it was a he. We made it to San Sebastian. Meet Octavio. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnvNstAn6BW833EXmjll4zFA0WdZroSMHvxYUI_SBi0EijgTcqc5qpgxzcG4EOn2zrkvYKjWwU-EKNtkDS_9tKg8J9QkeDpPtK10zsTglhj2fFfligsvnMofkOQNPDhr-DQkm9I7QqKVg/s320/IMG_1449.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414360804308781538" /></div><div><br /></div><div>We decided to go on a morning run/hike by the sea in San Sebastian the next day. Judging by this picture, it looks like we ran super early at sunrise. We did run at sunrise except it was like 9:30 am. That was a very strange thing about Spain. The sun rose really late. No wonder they don't start their day before 10. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-tRtWmWSLP_mPawBbSvC9SllGWTv4ihaD3dioz17qmVUpkupTQ86fj9gQ-ECjjJznugKk6RRaOxQfXJLPA0KYDo3OAx7M2tQyrhgLSLEVmBLq_yV8-C9UmH8TCxh0Ky1gW8Cnl9uPxgw/s320/P1030188.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414358663554597778" /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Another great thing about San Sebastian/Spain in general. The ham hocks in the bar. As you could imagine, I really wanted to come home and roll up to customs with one of these things over my shoulder, but I thought better of it. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEJWsHm3SE3dV0x58dHJwGPl3chGxUotR6Xz35TANpXlZ8TGjFdGsGDl_5NgaksabuvtEYDbyzeVQFWKWrs6VMOtgKE3vTwLSAIF75eCohigksHokLS8eS9B9W6svPv4V6M4m9QETrJ3E/s320/P1030183.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414358660490457666" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">After San Sebastian, we meandered our way down to the Rioja region. It was on this drive that I executed the elusive quadruple pass where I took down four cars on a two-lane road. Dare I say "Legendary." I'll go into a bit more detail on the wine in the fourth and final post of this trip but below are some pictures of the Castle of Davalillo, which is an abandoned 12th century castle sitting on a hilltop. The cool thing about this place is that there's no guide. There's nothing written. It's accessed via a dirt road, you just walk right up and see no one. The castle from afar....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0xKz2xg8vl43r55bMroT5zEngff9SNVqH0AGTgmlcvQ1igwvAbzj5qJWu2sJRHV6i9G3Fzplq6tHF9gzpcwDmswCqcpqclfby5DqSBDbBNPie8A11ix_zRjw0Mp8wTWT8lCkv2m0HJ4Q/s320/IMG_1503.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414363749225138322" /></div><div>The castle up close.....</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgExQSliQ_uA-4uvjLtX4gF0PWc6C_vUn_wraUTdXtVU_c-5bff09fmZADz3mouByKKvNTUfGwwR0B2ZiF38KiRkTPdZ1Tqz7i5zd1viodoD2OOaTx8sBcnutxn0Q-lLbNE41Hp9xqY6_E/s320/P1030268.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414363731993822674" /></div><div><br /></div><div>The view....</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXs8I7T1U9mVd4wYl7tUdbsFAzMeZ6UENghiStoiqx-PsgSFi0U8vaqj2PyX6IJJyj0ktLhPOn1GMSwTBcTcW2_NsEYw57887CJ_YjTusgpSaKZ3-_IQaGnyjq2weM2FmdlmikA9q_KY/s320/P1030252.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414360809456585218" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>The wineries were amazing. The architecture was stunning. Below is Ysios, which was designed by Frank Gehry. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVEtL1_o8rYmMEilVygLtF5pePvowPz8o6-Ox0yifjzzmTulUjx-Xr3fOOY1j8k9cFJ2FZ0g3C15ffByGqhNN83FrojfLhkWQz-rSFz5I_-iQa24mEsmWadaPNh4uptw309RiuseU9QaI/s320/IMG_1483.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414363753033534402" /></div><div>And this wasn't the only place. Here is Marques de Riscal. There were so many of these that were just spectacular feats in architecture. The only thing I couldn't figure out was how? A lot of these bodegas are otherwise small and don't produce a ton of wine. There were also some that don't do tours, taste their wines, or even have the name of the bodegas displayed anywhere. How can they possibly afford to build something like that, and moreso, why do it if you're not going to show it off to anyone or capitalize? Reason #272 why Spain is bankrupt. It made no sense, but it was great to see. </div><div> </div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEI-8M3JA8vKihUEUsPxNOv3wZ-Xs7vXBcTPNa4aKZiC0p3DIxHzDGV1aPersHd2A8nORnW5aCtq5iNdyyIfo7toME9n0rQi9LjLUpAfXKW6sleC5tz-vCAEJZA9PGQ-TY-oTN3L01zss/s320/P1030238.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414363725518901266" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Song of the Day:</div><div><br /></div><div>Passion Pit - Kingdom Come<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-50972638267969090412009-12-08T19:32:00.000-08:002009-12-08T20:32:24.844-08:00Guess Who's Back? Part II - Barcelona<div style="text-align: left;">So, after two plus days in Paris, we hopped a plane to Barcelona. Why only two days in Paris you say? Well, we had tickets to see Muse play in the Palau San Jordi, which necessitated going a day earlier than we originally intended. How could we pass up that opportunity? BUT, the Muse concert got moved to a different date because somehow Barcelona had forgotten that they had to host the Davis Cup in the same venue until two weeks before the concert. #56 on the Things That Would Never Happen In America list right after "closing businesses for three hours in the middle of the day." I at least got a refund and we had an extra night in Barcelona, which turned out to be great. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Before anything else, I need to address what is in my opinion the most impressive man made structure that is in existence - La Sagrada Familia. I'll put a bunch of pictures up on facebook about this (soon I promise) but here are a couple. This building has been under construction for over 100 years now and is expected to be completed in 2030. It was designed by Antoni Gaudi and if you ever make it to Barcelona, you MUST go here and learn about this guy. What a visionary. It's 100% safe to say that nothing will ever be built like this again. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4HUI9BwnHdS4T7fdHg6VJCPM0frVlHWMG9ugrs5KpKvcq-ZT6eJ2qiB7u5FIBQhEoPdx-DZfcjtSV686tDXVU5cVURbPFaTUkKc3bFSKJGbulUBmeKimcM1qawIjxPKuXWXN77OkQCm4/s320/P1030138.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413076152279608738" /><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRPEqVRFQpqLnOaHK9CcFMomhDrdb2zK2DCDnjuq3VI-NZjf345Eu5QsKbfG8gEAOGyROuSMpZBXiiHH-6gHYMdth3t3OZq7AMOCGbqXRxiz6zBVnX83wRBmwwSmFNjvnI5kdI6zw1P4/s320/P1030119.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413076144900975922" /><br /></div><div>Later that same day (it was a long day), we went across town to the the Parc Guell. This beautiful park sits on a huge hill overlooking the city, was designed by Gaudi and contains his former home, which they try to charge you 5 euros to enter. We obviously skipped that. This lizard guy is pretty famous and was his creation as well. Carrie and I snuck in to get a picture in between the hordes of AWC's found here. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit75QrrpRnbz_Zng4kJRpyaH5KUZXMTK2kgncKXJKNc0EaV0XNKzrPaXQFgLrrKZNla43TTpeA4sJZB8SvWPjijDqjXK4S-ZZbbHpoEYBMRZQw3_ElLk5lZmKXlhq43CArQd5MXd3N9b8/s320/P1030150.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413076159681936978" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The gothic quarter in Barcelona is fantastic. Probably one of the more fun areas to walk around/hang out/eat/drink/shop you'll find. Our hotel was here, which was nice so we got to do all of the above. Since we couldn't eat dinner until at least 10:00 pm lest we give ourselves away as rookie American tourists, we had to knock out a couple drinks in the room while getting ready followed by tapas and some more drinks. We came across this place but didn't go in. A cocktail orgasm just sounded a little bit intimidating, or more likely super fruity and sugary and disgusting. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTghQy2i_hJ8pMX1sQltsALhpijVc4xiAb7aUqLqt6z6ndLaW1IqIG5jRaTd3luxK_Q0U4Af1wMS0DDKLolQCZSuvh1LnTn42e4ldugl56sjCIoSsKTe1EQHPDiG2EyNB2Kzhrt17-4c/s320/P1030174.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413076164883564722" />One of the most fun things that happened while we were in Barcelona was Barcelona playing against Real Madrid on Saturday night. For anyone who doesn't immediately get it, this was a super huge deal. Very much like if it were Red Sox-Yankees in the playoffs. The bars were all packed. This is a local establishment shortly after kickoff. Notice all the heads turned in the same direction. There was no socializing, there was no serving of food or drink, there was just pure focus on the game. This doesn't happen for any sport in America. </div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvyeulgH2Dael_lvcBmLa9QXz9sQii72hTGWFAUAneuBtzNLQgkTCoaNi_fu5KLbHaS8Mt9nC8GvtdwcJo9akFmNnm_PqhO05_BTZb0jMn-AY-yxT1bxSQJHj5k7mya2IohCV14n6dCRE/s1600-h/P1030175.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvyeulgH2Dael_lvcBmLa9QXz9sQii72hTGWFAUAneuBtzNLQgkTCoaNi_fu5KLbHaS8Mt9nC8GvtdwcJo9akFmNnm_PqhO05_BTZb0jMn-AY-yxT1bxSQJHj5k7mya2IohCV14n6dCRE/s320/P1030175.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413076170150099346" /></a>When something good happened, you heard cheering all over the streets and by something good, I don't even mean a goal. When a goal finally did happen though, people went bananas. Cars on the street were honking everywhere, the town just erupted. A really cool thing to be a part of. It was like when the Sox won the world series after an 88 year drought in 2004, except this was a single goal in a regular season soccer game. Amazing. As important as this game was to these people, hardly any bars had the game on - I'd say about 1 out of 10. Yet, every one who did was overflowing with people out the door. Those who didn't were empty. This became reason #13 why Spain doesn't make money and has 30% unemployment. It just didn't make any sense. We eventually made our way to an excellent old-school tapas bar we read about in a guide that is a little off the beaten path and we were able to eventually get a sight line to a tv inside the bar from the outside for the last 15 minutes of the game. </div><div><br /></div><div>Barcelona ended up winning the game by that 1-0 score, which caused another huge eruption akin to if Jesus had just returned to Earth. I caught this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RptDohKTxq0">video of the celebration</a> after the game had been over for about 20 minutes and we were finally able to get inside. It got cut off at the very end unfortunately, but the last Barca (with a soft c like "facade," but we don't have that little squiggly c key on our computers in America) goes something like BaaaaaaarccAAAA! T<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SHgMU9Tx3o">his is a compete version of the song</a> including the claps (my favorite part aside from BaaaaarcAAA), which I have determined rivals even my love for the Buckeye Battle Cry. I love it because it's basically like a national anthem, except one that's way better than ours and it's for a sports team. It could also be a song played during a parade celebrating a Stalin-ist Russia victory over some poor sap pining for capitalism in Eastern Europe, which would be appropriate since the Catalan people are notorious socialists. Final verdict - I absolutely adored Barcelona and was ambivalent to Madrid even before going there because I was a Barcelona fan and you surely can't like both teams! Barca, Barca, BaaaaaarcAA!!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Song of the Day:</div><div><br /></div><div>Mocedades - Eres tu</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-21540477415617238142009-12-06T19:33:00.001-08:002009-12-07T20:38:06.177-08:00Guess Who's Back?<div style="text-align: left;">Here I am, back from my European vacation. There's so much to tell through words, pictures, and even videos so over the course of the next week, I'll be be describing each phase of our trip, starting with Phase I - Paris, France. The most difficult part for me about going to France was toning down all the making fun of French people I had been doing leading up to the trip. For example, I had done a lot of "haw, haw, haw"-ing, a lot of extra vowel pronunciation, and general trailing off the ends of words into a sort of slow motion vomit sound. For example, the Louvre was more like the "Looooooouuuuaaaa" in Sean-speak prior to the trip. I won't lie, some of the jabs continued in private and under my breath with Carrie while we were there but I did my best to respect the French to the extent they deserve it (haw haw haw!!!!). </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">One thing I realized as soon as I got on the Metro from the airport was that graffiti makes as much sense to me in France as it does when I see it in America, which is none at all. One thing I really liked about France, or at least Paris, is the ambulance sirens. They sound kind of like the sirens from an old Madden video game, like when the ambulance used to drive out on the field and run everybody over. Real old school and I like it. Much less loud and obnoxious than our American sirens. One crazy thing about those goofy French though is that, while the Japanese commit sepuku when they are shamed, it appears that the French go with the more romantic method of poison injection. They even have a poison store!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTE6Cs-iR5rzN65J59UVo0Oxl_nZU5YrT6V6WDOge3wVuxWoOgDrhbEj0rIrEuHRikKmkC4UKdmEgOT-ef3u7XjUleBQow0Ac5VLuFa5fQDjHmAySULvxet3JxnwPkd-AhTow6jLwfzv0/s320/P1030062.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412705881497832290" /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><div>Ok fine, so I made that up. It's actually a fish market. Paris was a pretty sweet time but it's definitely expensive. It helped to have Carrie to communicate, though they pretty much all speak English in some capacity. The most disappointing part of Paris was that we could not find a crepe place to save our lives if you can believe that. We walked everywhere and I guess we saw them but never when it was time to eat. This proved to be a running theme as we traveled elsewhere too. Paris is a beautiful city to walk and we sure did a lot of that. We were even treated to a Thanksgiving dinner right by the Eiffel Tower, which was fantastic. Before that though, we paid a visit to the military museum where Napoleon is buried and I immediately gravitated towards the weaponry like the red-blooded male I am. I'll skip this though because there are way better pictures to be had from France, like this one:</div><div><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKCyDg1Zv21agbM-sUweCE3j3L9jwrSYC3tuWSUHBMhmhyphenhyphenkW2KB0z81yepJzZjeuuOrw5X6uV2HGnO5zUbzcV2UhOkmtTM700dDHerxzkBnJ0-GiLmlHOWPxFgWMNuICb1NpUolrC-JVQ/s320/P1030096.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412709090004531410" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">That's on the Metro. I can't read French but the message I took from this was that putting your hands in the doors to keep them from shutting will make you really sad. It doesn't appear to hurt though. After Thanksgiving, we took a short jaunt over to the Eiffel Tower, and I must say that if you go, dusk is a great time to do it. It's great when the lights come on.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJZF47p2djtJw9U4k_lgEe73FX69ofPCikPHvn62pW2CvTHuRvkqpsI18o-x-00Baa6lHnJKQEJ8AD5oB1ltcsBFBdKMS5-oq6TU93WjsBxjx9hIoVpReh1OfQfF8G7nxm5iZ85PfveBI/s320/P1030090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412709100907358546" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">They also had a cool light show, which caught some of the light rain that was coming down in the light. I took a video <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WnSAOAMhpDw">found here</a>. Eiffel Tower - not a disappointment, but ironically, on this small, enclosed space, we got more lost than we were at any point during the trip (which included a lot of driving), which I decided to document with <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Mis5PCGHOA">this brief video</a>. Now is a good time to mention that all future videos will be on youtube as it's much easier to upload that way. Also, we didn't walk over there, but did you know that close to the Eiffel Tower, there's another statue of liberty, pretty much exactly like ours? I did know actually because I went to Harvard so am naturally blessed with such knowledge as a result of rubbing my diploma every day before bed, but still I think it's a cool fact.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div>A couple other typical sights from Paris, you can find the rest on facebook soon.....</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWhLiQx3al-Z9D9Wim934-77qDQGZJ0Mdafi9whGMkWbcnhIqj2wzAt7kSvPE_ekcz6n99jduX75J7BYkrd0y80RTo6FbRwbEUOScKIIobzjHca5fp6TkjyW71VjpY6zwYsBiEqya7Dz8/s320/P1030101.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412714419055486962" /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmNbWeJrZ8NYr5IOsVFOTgSiyKqmkBn7Xmlys78ZpTz9ZqBsnJdyklHfaNIM1SOMehMtZxZ1g86ObrZnkkP4cbCCP5ULCq51f8Yj5rHx4n_LxX6nd6sKnrDBG7HEuqJMjkPUsgLKBwsYo/s320/P1030080.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412714416988759362" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifZirJKRXQ5Rrtc36OKS6K0zOxtI9CcLEDQwbqR2wPCaxhej9Ww8HcAb8yanCMlpHrSuhnA5aVMdjC3Ku5-8AvtSP6MS_jyDMP0kEsFAIZPXVARH9DgXSqiH0hK5v04-TAiGKmU3WGXA/s320/P1030044.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412714410190046146" /><div> </div><br /><div> </div><br /><div> </div></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-17060233908921477992009-11-18T10:40:00.000-08:002009-11-19T07:20:05.861-08:00AWC's and SuperdawgLast weekend, on what was probably the last really nice day of the year, I took my bike up to a bike trail called the North Branch Trail, which effectively begins at the northwestern boundary of Chicago and extends northward up into the suburbs. Round trip it was about a 30 mile ride. It was a beautiful day and it felt good. I made a brief stop on the way back because I randomly saw a Japanese guy creeping into the forest with a camera. As it turns out, he was taking pictures of a herd of deer. <em>Note: I had to check to see whether to say "pack" or "herd" or something else when referring to deer there. </em><a href="http://www.coolquiz.com/trivia/didyouknow/animal_groups.asp"><em>Here's a super fun list </em></a><em>I found that breaks down all the different group names of various animals. My favorite? A "richness of martens" because I'll be damned if </em><a href="http://www.wildernessclassroom.com/www/schoolhouse/boreal_library/animals/photos/pine_marten.jpg"><em>this isn't the cutest little animal I've never heard of</em></a><em>. Also, did you know that 12 cows make a flink? Ok, way off topic here. Back to the deer.<br /></em><div><div><br /></div><div>In a trademark <em>"</em>This is why stereotypes exist<em>"</em> moment, as he moved closer and closer to the deer for better and closer shots, AWC (Asian With Camera) recklessly scared them off one by one until they all bolted. I quickly pulled out my camera and captured a couple shots before they were gone. The first one is like Where's Waldo but there's actually two Waldos (deer) in this picture. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405521703794160594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpDvt3coBalmfkYMB2PTU8IiqzrD4XODFJ3ZJfuw9sjFrx713r1nJDefHGJ60aNFeM5esbWl7W473Tp6JI0XbFkcSeeBt62mu5ao_ScT7EK1qx94_yEnZy0IXtaoAtr5z7aAvaI-_x-I/s320/P1030033.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405521714104396834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xGS9oQaJ2mlQkQyWfivtDRRi-PHhw2ytlAoN27QYmKutzqITGZkhFxMSrNApV1KEzGOYY3221fbOXnVUcA8uueDsouZkBzg5-KqOUz2DnvcGMsCJgnPiiik3GO_iBdtEgpVPk9xOhLY/s320/P1030034.JPG" border="0" />After the bike ride, I was absolutely famished. Not sure why this happens after biking and not running, but after I bike, I feel like I haven't eaten for days. So, being that the famous Superdawg from Diners, Drive Ins and Dives (and other shows) was right around the corner from the trailhead, I decided to see what all the fuss was about.<br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405521720381992562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEginxVA-bmMrsOdvz0Nq8vjPIK-z2Ue9tReNUS8VV1WyvW2flzSbLA-riOy_eOofYt2kx99o3zCO3bgY8vczkQOYhWLuGHj2suB_xnr6GDlCoXaA48iqgunq-AOTZfMUB_cIkl151oIl5s/s320/P1030035.JPG" border="0" />The verdict? I'm not sure what all the fuss was about, other than the awesome male and female hot dogs on the roof of the building. I thought about this and I think the reason is it's a hot dog. Hot dogs aren't like burgers, sushi, cookies, or cupcakes. You can't ever really say "wow, this hot dog is the <em>greatest hot dog I've ever had</em>." It's just a hot dog and hot dogs just aren't that special, even when they're really good ones. The only thing that can make a hot dog really awesome in my opinion is chili, but that means we're talking about the quality of the chili and not the hot dog. The hot dog is merely a vessel used to consume the chili in a more manly, sloppy fashion. My disappointment was compounded by the fries, which were not even that great. While I'm glad I finally tried Superdawg, Five Guys would have been much more satisfying after a punishing bike ride. And so it is, my Hot Dog Hypothesis. <br /></div><div><br /><div> </div><div>Song of the Day:</div><div> </div><div>Florence & the Machine - Rabbit Heart</div></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-39763111450547649892009-11-15T12:13:00.000-08:002009-11-16T08:46:18.111-08:00And now....The starting lineup for your Chicago Bulls!!!! Yes, I went to my very first Chicago Bulls game and let me tell you, the intro (which we only heard while walking in) was the most exciting moment of the whole game. Of all professional sporting events I've ever been to, going to an NBA game in November has to be the most underwhelming aside from going to a Cubs in late September. But in that case, at Wrigley Field, at least you have a bunch of bars nearby whereas the United Center just has gang-related violence nearby.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div>I think what makes the NBA game experience so uninspiring is that the play is so uninspired that they have to throw in all sorts of gimmicks to keep people interested. This speaks to two things: 1) People are morons and need flashy lights and circus acts to be amused and 2) Basketball is boring if LeBron James isn't involved, especially during football season. Throughout the course of the night, we saw endless meaningless giveaways (i.e. buy one cup of coffee at dunkin donuts get the second half off.....at participating locations, 10 cents off a big mac, $5 off tune-up at jiffy lube with purchase of 4 tune-ups, etc). Many other gimmicky things happened during time-outs, quarters, and halftime to keep people from leaving such as bad female dancers (the Luv-a-Bulls), bad fat male dancers (the Matadors), a mischievous looking squirrely bulls mascot, and about six massive inflated friendly bulls mascots along with a massive friendly bull blimp mascot flying around - all of which are in direct conflict with the <a href="http://www.bullsuniverse.com/logos/chicago_bulls.gif">image of the bull on the logo</a> that has blood on its horns. Why are all these bulls so damn friendly? This is so watered down. What happened to these days when Bill Laimbeer and Isaiah Thomas used to beat up Michael Jordan like he was robbing their houses? I guarantee you there were no friendly inflatable bulls running up and down the arena coddling kids then. That was basketball. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404740418056908194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-UU8_gQNkYrUJ2CzNiGLh79RPCcEx4QYSOX80LgqWbfG9lC2nRiaS_Ktv5XPBWqZM22XCgMRTLYcszkyV6ODK8AeZENYou_S3vhmBG0a4WudH8f_8c9_nqUIdNm1FHbRcize9Vsfg6U/s320/P1030031.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>Unfortunately, that's not the NBA we see today. The following is really the case for every sport, but I think the NBA is the most obvious case and the one that spells the most imminent doom for the league. We live in the world of bad cheerleader/dancers, corporate seats, $8 beers, $30 parking, and this monstrosity of a halftime show where some guy who was dressed somewhere between a matador and a chippendales dancer (not that I know what they look like with clothes on, I mean I don't know at all, I mean...Dwayne Zakamore Mr. October 1995, oh god....) did a high wire act, except one that was only about 6 feet off the ground. Just to clarify, that last parenthetical was a reference to BASEketball, the greatest sports movie of our time.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404740421239443714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSPpwb43MhKMO3S_cIsNNSmjE3EZGdQFexDZpLzBxm0qsIHf4RstazK4xgveYDslLPq-qzLB1uCVrYrI2yjNdw82xJr6ASfb_Iy9gi_LAmL1OzjS7Th105DaNIHaNnpTg8Pxj-jH4Jqw/s320/P1030032.JPG" border="0" /></div><div>The most egregious offense of all in this spectacle was showing up to the United Center to find a new addition, two actually. On one side of the arena, this:</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404740409511377538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIF2thjr3Xu8y_ggxO_bQaN0tmTw34kKMx9TND0tvZhruE4aKy-3_Z1XicX5nfiDTH_vfGl79WLA5jrotauy84_Y8fDxHa4yssf7mOP1dnepG0CTb8ohu2MSSoQdi58JydjfxuHnPkE3E/s320/P1030029.JPG" border="0" />On the other side of the arena, this:<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404740404749933170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4zpd89fHxoyU44CePFJOKtoZMDFBddDG85qw0V_JI-lXNShathvs_oBoE7fLQLjGozdlDw6rPuxJv18KYzXt-vJHFeYdaJcC2A221mSioYh-xLXFIdJh0oaZshtYGYBsCfIHgWexSIWw/s320/P1030028.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>Ironically, this is the first year for this most eye-rolling gimmick, and it comes at a time when this arena and others are anything but a madhouse. The people who really care stay home because they can't afford to come, or they sit way up in the rafters while assholes like me who are indifferent to the bulls sit in corporate seats down low, or worse yet (and more typically), the seats sit empty. Thus, home court advantage is eliminated, rivalries are all but eliminated, and the corporations transfer their own wealth to the overpaid athletes who are indifferent to the weak crowd because they know they just made $300,000 for this 3 hour game. One day I will tell my son about how John Stockton used to average double digit assists per game, passing to Karl Malone with telepathic precision, how Michael Jordan used his deep-seeded hatred for all humanity to dominate the universe, how Larry Bird just wanted it more than the other guy, how much the Celtics hated the Lakers and how much everybody hated the Pistons, but sadly future generations will never know the NBA my generation grew up with. In memoriam, here's a couple great youtube montages from the days of yore...this is when people cared, honor was defended, and basketball was more like football. If you like sports, you know you miss those days.<br /></div><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X7r6vXeOfyQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X7r6vXeOfyQ</a></div><br /><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26K6HU6Cz_E&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26K6HU6Cz_E&feature=related</a></div><br /><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TLztLLPjyjY">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TLztLLPjyjY</a></div><div> </div><br /><div>Song of the Day:</div><br /><div>Cold War Kids - Audience</div></div></div></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-78904296120287644692009-11-02T17:20:00.000-08:002009-11-02T18:38:21.244-08:00It's Fall!<div style="text-align: left;">Well it took driving 375 miles to Columbus but I finally got the perfect fall weekend that I've been missing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>On Friday, Carrie and I went golfing then went for a run in a local park (it was 75 degrees!). We went on swings and did all kinds of fun stuff but you can find that on facebook. More importantly, the jungle gym is ruining young kids' minds. No wonder teen pregnancy is on the rise...or something. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiVbrrcl-z45oCR3SfyGYnOGbJZNnGGk6h3hddgnotVlA-8ci1RAMiBbMQDQinFbUCES1mbU-2BTr5vsQaVcFvs8FWUOOBVBseZiODx_Mx4CqV2Ijh-XoXXlT2FdgtxTY4lOJ8R3jzPU0/s320/P1030005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399685045732059154" /><div style="text-align: left;">Ok, so maybe that's just an adult who has the maturity of an adolescent boy amusing himself. But still, they could have given it some features. Though it's no longer accurate, I did like the fact that Pluto was still on this little educational tool. Poor Pluto. This band Jimmy and the Keyz created a <a href="http://www.purevolume.com/jimmyandthekeyz/albums/Snowball+in+hell">nice tribute to the fallen planet</a> (now planetoid - thanks IAU bastards). There are also a number of "Save Pluto" websites out there but <a href="http://www.saveplutotoday.com/">this one is far and away my favorite</a> due to the ridiculous simplicity. Sure looks like a planet to me. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">On Saturday (Halloween), we went to see Ohio State put a thumping on New Mexico State. While the game was a laugher, halftime was super entertaining. The Best Damn Band in the Land (TBDBITL) put on a great show in honor of Halloween. Much like something you'd see at an Ivy League game, they put on a drama in addition to the music. However, there were a few major differences (this is where I finally have to be a super exclusive Ivy League kid - those who haven't been to an Ivy game wouldn't understand).</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">1) The band members knew how to play instruments so you could tell what song was playing. </div><div style="text-align: left;">2a) The jokes were funny.</div><div style="text-align: left;">2b) The band didn't try to outsmart the crowd.</div><div style="text-align: left;">3) Band members could walk and play instruments at the same time. </div><div style="text-align: left;">4) The formations actually created what shape they were intended to create. </div><div style="text-align: left;">5) Crowd reaction was laughter and applause versus puzzlement and embarrassment. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxjTmmuTHZ9L2XQd8O3B7xorSyM4AWhh-6kduMKzomcEOFvVIZKaq4XNeWnqmreyBke5ET0F1K81nQhf0BysxqoN8cvf6M2QmMIZaFDZNg00Cz9GJr6rjPvoAlHZOMXQRMt35pTHNFPug/s320/P1030016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399685048361359538" /><i>Ghostbusting "Michi-gouls"</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf1ffUvIRa48HaEZU_QnrZUZW9SLwuT9wKrh0g3OYlUcbj5r-4fEUEs83PIUh2XhoeLqOxB5A2n632zDgWmFejFObZk2LYQQlFoxF9j_4XWpyIqB8vLEpdDTItjwXd_oAse2tJUPy_yPU/s320/P1030017.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399685053813414722" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Entombing the Michi-Gouls</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For the most part, Ohio State fans are obnoxiously anti-Michigan 365 days a year. The stories abound and I'm not going to even go into them - some are awesome, some are funny, some are shameful and embarrassing. As shown above, Michigan does not need to be involved in the situation at all in order to be booed or chastised. The only thing I can compare it to is Red Sox / Yankees where a "Yankees Suck" chant could break out anywhere from Rhode Island to Maine at any given time year-round for no particular reason other than a deep-seeded hatred for the other team. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Lastly, on Saturday night, we saw a lot of great costumes while out on the town with friend Jacquie and her fiancee Jeffrey. One of the most convincing was this girl who dressed like in-his-prime Michael Jackson and was singing and dancing down the street in character as we left the bar. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcY0niOAFpsBZZ8VMhU1zMnK3L6tyJthNCPt3dN2ewn-ZrM6hPtwGBXVOITfu3sdL3af6GwQ4tQ-4rIkeLUFTDMXyrR0lQ81VcuB_-jBlUDpubC4tJ8ZzjwqDTRbL7pJpF-5DkG0Esqvo/s320/P1030025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399685056349123186" /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Other highlights: my mom made homemade pumpkin cheesecake, and it was amazing. I feel like only moms can make something that they've never made before and have it be phenomenal. Now that I've been away for a number of years, I definitely have a greater appreciation for my hometown than I did growing up. The air is a little fresher, the people a little nicer, and general satisfaction with life a bit higher (except when Ohio State loses). </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Song of the Day:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Low Anthem - To Ohio</div><div><br /></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-5641309978405258332009-10-28T18:12:00.001-07:002009-10-29T11:38:57.998-07:00Obama Handball<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrw5MT8xvMaXOzTBLhu2yv7o4XR4yvgf24DQHqmUOu_IOGbuRnlu9flSlSD4FyFsnLsRypUvAbOsrNHNcEDgRzBe-uv7TOs4PQ_52wPVuC14YSE2SvaTSHIYZ1oRU8Jf73QsdLGlwcWYg/s1600-h/IMG00109.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397827603298465186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrw5MT8xvMaXOzTBLhu2yv7o4XR4yvgf24DQHqmUOu_IOGbuRnlu9flSlSD4FyFsnLsRypUvAbOsrNHNcEDgRzBe-uv7TOs4PQ_52wPVuC14YSE2SvaTSHIYZ1oRU8Jf73QsdLGlwcWYg/s320/IMG00109.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397827596880973170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTUPic3QsE0QKZkEzJ3pfB_lPgdzTjE5ZBcUdMqPqkustSjaWIzT6IQsRsq4JPhxr2xirnnTvf-JiXE7KYW9_Cu16InvWTQFn7GDSEQd9IQMH8Asb1vcmjI_vo7p-JkH3xhZxw01bbq4/s320/IMG00102.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">There's two words you won't ever see side-by-side again nor two pictures that are similarly juxtaposed. First, I find it super amazing that Barack finds time to be president AND run a hair salon next to a building my company owns in Chicago. How many people do you know who have a Nobel Peace Prize that can also install a weave? </div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><br /></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">For those who don't know, Graham Beatty is on the USA handball team (that's him in the beard in the picture above). Yes, this means he could potentially be in the Olympics. That is, if Team USA weren't one of the worst handball teams in the world. In other words, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2009_World_Men">if you go to wikipedia</a>, you'll note that we weren't even in the 2009 world championships. That's because, primarily, the most successful players and teams are from the eastern bloc (when you were formally part of communist Russia, block is bloc I think?). But let's backtrack. How many people do you know who are on the national team for anything, especially after only playing the sport for a year? So mad props to my boy Graham. </div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397827599028552978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmw3gQOtsduakhaqp2J3_LhZzeIJ1IJf8XIBbITIcB_ov6GFON6lC_ToK37BvGW_8du-etN2l62Ykp_dDz_a_YLsNG9KqFUl95_jL9gmD7CgKVu5x4KsNlJnA6MCDZDpMf4s8pVMEebQw/s320/IMG00104.jpg" border="0" />Now, it's hard to see in the picture above but below the photo, it says "More then just a game." This was clearly written by aforementioned eastern bloc European who speak English well, but not <i>that</i> well. Furthermore, I've never really understood what it means when people say that. If it's more than just a game, what is it? If it's more than a game, more than pride or money has to be at stake. So, knowing this, is handball like the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mesoamerican_ballgame">Aztec ball game</a>? From what I remember, in that game, the <em>winners </em>got sacrificed. What a terrible reward. Score the game winning goal, and you get your still beating heart ripped out. Glad I wasn't an Aztec. I'll have to ask Graham about how this works in handball. Below is a good photo of the backup goalie for one of the teams. This guy is about 45, has a super creepy moustache and comb-over and is clearly not in the best shape. Maybe, instead of "More then a game" the slogan should be "Handball - child molesters welcome." This guy was a legend as were some of the other participants. Bottom line: I officially love handball and plan to watch a lot more of it. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397827606373443906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaE7S3SgFGOJrHFwI8nTAM4ioJBUSJ-n68M6MNlynaUZpWXPmb2jIlz0r9uzmD8IMsb2aSDGVrFQz8vSGydFrqdwhWGpxVlOBpPKx488p2JPXQnF2F6BTqEq-b9zqUHbXK1kWtpvJOquw/s320/IMG00108.jpg" border="0" /> </div><br /><div>Song of the Day:</div><br /><div></div>Grizzly Bear ft. Michael McDonald - While You Wait For the Others<br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-52571933312045225702009-10-22T06:25:00.000-07:002009-10-23T08:37:37.049-07:00I made beer!!!<div>As a product of a drunken conversation during a fantastic beer tasting hosted at my apartment in August, John Baker, homebrewer extraordinaire and me, decent chef who's always up for an overambitious task, decided to create our own homebrew. John has all the equipment so we spent a day buying ingredients and making it happen. My idea was to come up with a chocolatey beer that would also have a big spice kick since spicey chocolate is very popular these days. This idea was all the more intriguing because I don't think there is any precedent for doing this. This was also a reason to be nervous because let me tell you, making beer is not easy. So, if this beer turned out like crap because I wanted to infuse it with roasted cacao nibs, vanilla bean, and chiles, then we would not only be out 75 bucks, but would have also wasted a lot of time. </div><br /><div>Here's an abbreviated version of how it goes down:</div><br /><div>1. Pour the malt mix into hot water. This becomes the "mash."<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395422173949132530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyN_jSUt9xAoNmDSEA1MaqTF3lxsfj9Ps1YvyRum1ZIuDQfBh6XhAJfNIg7fsgW5TqLxQpfozTkmPOX8g4-C31nG_1SWEOHxnW5IX751txvt7ecgMfwD1o_YJ4lKpeR0hmddt0g9b4z4A/s320/Picture_027.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>2. Stir the mash.<br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395418261606192514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERajV5vSBYdb_5bOFaw60gXrfwVPSEoP_8VochAbUfD_RGpQ72-MrHwl85h9T2iPJVdNWTXOB7jLZtMIRZdAIERw0AfreDHSK9yXly8zYEnVMuyt2XqcJ8Z7_X34jQ2cZYJ77H6Rnl3o/s320/IMG00079.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>3. Let the mash sit covered for a while. </div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395418278430103282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLoFcfjt0dNuUnOgI4mwNWJ6qOp6_BPuFEwvivpvb0I3xJw3bLZ8ZPEFzeVdNrHsUCI9SB-V2Obz66Sg0sIYT-D35iUldd78tDKKyMtluGsn64u7FGZiqN3yekwokKf2ce3L0o1NhPS_Y/s320/IMG00082.jpg" border="0" /> </div><div>4. Take the liquid from the mash and siphon it into a huge pot (or in this case hollowed out keg). Boil it for a while. </div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395418265060030242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAG5VQridTuhOhjvIdpPlepbNAynBR2DOJ-qAN8QonErgjiTvcyLGyDy63Ta4-Itd6ttNIzSKG9fhA_PTnUdKSQgNtUCUw_DvoHA6VU4PIecTZnI8yExebp95EIfoiLspaYzLrnKrRXQA/s320/IMG00080.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395418284545167218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3-P-46T_eFNGkjOxITRsssFNKo7-MZfroiOdFWhLLiJPTf4JOtcrlTMvYBYSaUzLfS1ns_H2wIApJaML-83pUvkEI4K_K8MkPNxOXkGpwDR4zzxBpIDaLUcSMTO4Z5onnOITufyHfw8k/s320/IMG00083.jpg" border="0" /><br />5. Create the super secret chile mixture. I took three different kinds of chiles and toasted them, then crushed the toasted chiles into a powder. I roasted cacao beans and crushed them up into a fine mixture as well. </p><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395418269747967394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoeNoy4XCblPuqEVl-e1mHxlJFomeOxD_NezPaGGP-rRtjCiCwCEFSwuLpamBd0LZdJggmMkvg1P5I4-h-EvDqvl3axSWhxc15Ip0BCLdoNlJdWtaYS61vQPm7fHr2rcV_l8sTj6n8NlY/s320/IMG00081.jpg" border="0" />6. During the last 15 minutes of the boil, add some hops but be sure to smell their hoppy wonderfulness before you dump them in (see below). The chile/chocolate mixture from step 5 goes in at this time too.<br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395422184268031698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv7zj48FWCqtX2XDP-mdsYUDjnREcwTGIhofbp3ILECNp2Pm3TVqHxm6Q8GvQugAWCnglalr_WbMnVl2pjeYHMZpScb9EwBhoF0JRVIjoxMZKuY0Rss_VdSCZCJ0uJ3xdDJKnR7KNx8O8/s320/Picture_029.jpg" border="0" /><br />7. Once the liquid has cooled from the boil, then you pour the yeast in. As John describes it, the yeast are having a massive party and they're pooping out alcohol and CO2. This goes on for a couple weeks and is known as "primary fermentation." During this time, we added some vanilla bean and some whole chiles. </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395427107069187778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBnXEMsx7lTz1BDi0V5c5a78XEdvMuKE4RTp_9SJcid5Kq1jVLTkz7xhqOilzCbyWZYr0KF-tPrKGPvC1aPVYmnbGlapMhpnh6AwOUu-gCgpyPSF7DvmazWHfkeGyAACHc18IDPDa2yx0/s320/DSCN0593.JPG" border="0" />8. Bottle that shit. Leave it sit for a couple more weeks. Yes, at this point, it has been a month since that first day of inspired beer creation.<br /><br />9. After much anticipation, drink and hopefully enjoy.<br /><br />In our case, we had a pretty big scare. John called me saying that we "had to talk about the beer." Uh oh. We talk and John explains that the night before, he tried the beer for the first time, then got violently ill about two hours later, which lasted through the night. After a moment of panic, I calmed myself and did some research. My research determined that there is no way one can get sick from a few sips of spoiled beer. In addition, you would know if it was bad immediately by the taste.<br /><br />I decided to roll the dice and try this beer for myself. I can now report, after consuming four of these precious beverages, that I did not get ill in any way. In fact, the beer is delicious. The aroma of chocolate and spices is fantastic and the taste backs it up. It's got big cocoa and coffee flavors and hints of caramely sweetness with a spicy kick at the end. As it turns out, some bad chicken caesar salad was the culprit of John's malady. So, a deep sigh of relief because all that work going for naught would have been devastating. <br /><br /><br />Song of the Day:<br /><br />Stereophonics (covering Rolling Stones) - Gimme ShelterSeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-43078984362873384592009-10-15T09:48:00.000-07:002009-10-15T13:25:15.835-07:00The Exorcism of Bad MusicA while ago, I wrote a blog talking about a lot of the music I was listening to at the time. I will probably do the same thing again soon. However, before I tackle that, I need to clear the air and today's a good day to do it because I'm in a foul mood, though I'm not sure why. I hate music today. I think the record industry is a joke and I think we, as humans, are a joke because we buy this junky music they force-feed us. They should make foie-gras out of us because we're stuffed so full of it. This is epitomized by a radio station here in Chicago that I am unfortunately subjected to every single day, all day, because of our admin at work, who sits about 10 feet away and has the radio on and tuned into this station non-stop. I am forced to desperately try to avoid hearing this putrid music by wearing headphones, but alas, I can't always wear headphones. Thus, I can't help but hear this garbage. Since I've been hearing the same songs on this God forsaken station over and over every hour of every day for the last six months, I thought I would put together a "worst-of" list, which will hopefully have a purging effect on my brain, allowing me to rid myself of the heavy burden this music places on my soul.<br /><br />This may be hard to understand as I don't really know the names of any of these songs, but I figured I'd name them by their most repeated and annoying lines. I wanted to put them in order of hatred but it's kind of like my friend KC once said, "It's like asking a kid, what do you like least - long division or state capitals?" It's hard to choose so I'll just list them all out:<br /><br /><br />All American Rejects - Hope it gives you hell, hope it gives yooooouuu hell (officially the worst song ever made)<br /><br />Kings of Leon - Use Somebody<br /><br />Lady Gaga - Poker Face<br /><br />Nickelback - their latest single, and every other song they've ever made<br /><br />Black Eyed Peas - Tonight's gonna be a good night<br /><br />Pink - Something about not feeling good sober and party being over<br /><br />Unknown - Please don't stop the music....music<br /><br />The Fray - Everyone knows I'm in over my head, over my head<br /><br />Unknown - Sometimes goodbye is a second chaaance...<br /><br />The Fray? - You found me, you found meeeeee....<br /><br />Taylor Swift - Why can't you seeeeeeeee, you belong with meeeeeeee<br /><br />Unknown - And the suuuuun will shine for yoooouuuuuu......whine whine whine<br /><br />Unknown - I'm livin without you babyyyy, but you're still with me all the time<br /><br />I want you to knooooowwwww.....something something something.....I'm already gone<br /><br />You can allllways turn the car around......<br /><br />....brella brella brellla ay ay ay ay brella ay brellla brellla ay ay ay ay ay brella....ay...ay....AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />So anyways, that's what sucks in 2009. I guess a lot of people probably said the same thing about <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMkIuKXwmlU">Christopher Cross in 1980 when he did "Sailing"</a> but at least he's wearing an Earl Campbell jersey, playing a double necked guitar, and looking like he just did a two minute kegstand. I don't hate you Christopher Cross. <br /><br />Song of the Day:<br /><br />Anything but any of the above.....pleaseSeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-30614772074977273402009-10-13T10:20:00.000-07:002009-10-13T11:20:56.511-07:00Tim HardawaySo lots to cover here. First off, when starting to do this post, I noticed that I inadvertantly spelled Elisabeth's name wrong for the millionth time on the last post. I'm still not used to the British spelling after a lifetime of being conditioned on "Elizabeth" but I love it. I wish I were British so I could have the accent, eat prawns and put my bills in the "post" instead of the mail. Anyways, I'm sorry. This has been corrected. <br /><br />So my mom came to visit Chicago this weekend and we decided to take a trip to the museum at the Art Institute to show her how cultured I can pretend to be when she visits. Normally, I don't read the descriptions of the artists and artwork but this time I did because the ladies were and I had to wait on them anyways. The reason why I don't read these descriptions is because they just say nonsense like this:<br /><br /><br />"...challenging the reductive formalism of minimalism"<br /><br /><br />This seems like it would have been part of a good rebuttal to a poor paper grade in college. As in, I don't really know what it means but I think it sounds good, which is the name of the game when you want to get a good paper grade at Harvard. Something like:<br /><br />TF: "This paper lacks direction, organization, and support"<br />Me: "Precisely. That's intentional. My objective was to challenge the reductive formalism of minimalism by writing a paper that may, on the surface, imply a haphazard effort at a thesis with an apparent lack of organization and support. However, this was merely a satirical commentary on the fallacy of the American education system."<br /><br />Another good art museum quote:<br /><br /><br />"...takes pleasure in perversion and embraces bad taste."<br /><br /><br />My question is, if something is in bad taste, then why is it in the museum? Does this mean we are to appreciate bad taste? If so, wouldn't that make it good taste? When does something become so bad that it's good? Is there an inflection point somewhere near airport food, Sandra Bullock movies, or death metal? My head hurts. Moving on...<br /><br />On Saturday, after watching Terrelle Pryor continue to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad quarterback, we went out to dinner at May Street Cafe. In addition to the phenomenal Puerto Rican food, they had a unisex bathroom with what looked to me like an observation or waiting stool right beside the toilet.<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392142935902054114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpnMnbLNZqjf5mFldyODyG4fd0scfnFVYjgBgBwgq-8aVSygRTIhGEX95mCRxAXMz_MZl9V4ytBHJQaIazidRXIeTu9qyr7LbrhX6CHY_wI3KYjjOUtf0TZDUHMdllxZGyhwPTXE4_f9s/s320/IMG00094.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>Talk about uncomfortable. Can you imagine doing your business with a critic sitting on the stool judging the whole time? I sure can't. Now apparently this is a frequent appearance in a women's bathroom and according to the ladies, it is used for "putting down one's purse/jacket/whatever." It's a decent alibi but this is clearly a cover up. If no one was sitting there, why would there be a seat cushion on the stool? Huh? A trip to the art museum and juvenile toilet humor in the same blog. That just happened. </p><p>Highlight of the weekend: finding this 1991 Fleer Tim Hardaway card in a flower bed on Division Street. At first I was so thrilled and grabbed it to take with me just because of the novelty of finding a 1991 basketball card. However, I put Tim back in his flower bed because I can only imagine how happy this made any number of people who walked by it that day. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392142944238713122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwS0L-bfaAwuZJ87fJum0VfJ5_iaZah_xTy4fsilsXXZmN_JRGoi08C1vXbARsiZ5cOd4xVft66v56ZYj2IaZBXhjG_ZwsURoPAesTy1zqMpQ87ujOgQaYGMdroP9-5EBo2AWWBvuqRM/s320/IMG00096.jpg" border="0" /><br />For those who don't know Tim Hardaway, he's famous partly for having a sweet crossover dribble and a long NBA career, but mostly <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFP9rCnXR54">he's famous for this</a>. I thought I'd title this post "Tim Hardaway" because I figure how often does Tim Hardaway get to be the title of a blog or any conversation whatsoever now? I remember when this happened but listening again, I actually laughed even though it's not funny because it's just so appalling and it's unimaginable that anyone would say that out loud on national radio. Anyways, time to stop before any sort of serious discussion starts on homosexuality....not that there's anything wrong with that. </p><p> </p><p>Song of the Day:</p><p>Zero 7 - Mr. McGee<br /><br /></p>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-68958149154781886002009-10-06T20:20:00.001-07:002009-10-09T12:30:08.331-07:00Congrats Max and Elisabeth!<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389694094609071186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7UOkiig-mnqWoBN1td_j0sUp-7mfp9lB3ytZj828A4gH8vUX3AuTz1XMUq7i6lIHBjnn7JTlMuWoEW-npyDJV9VqPIOjXgAafhZecrFbXYY1QkQWrvjSlyEOGILWdO1BIFHjVaEhbY_Q/s320/DSCN0658.JPG" border="0" /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijJG43PIWx41AlmAQkAdlZbwQHsuTaHDCmbtYoFTXBu3pi9qYZTanzYYELCt8rjT1jsgSBfp4DI-73fY2-m_zQMnAsJofKvws1dOMKXzx6V6vSljl-oEV1w1JjCwTclP81m1edtpkkUYg/s1600-h/DSCN0659.JPG"></a>So I've been finding it really hard to write blogs lately if you haven't noticed from the complete and utter lack of posts. I was in Annapolis, Maryland for Max and Elisabeth's wedding and came back all jacked up to write a massive and hilarious post about it because so many crazy, fun things happened. However, I returned to Chicago completely exhausted, which carried into Monday and Tuesday. So now, between work, making dinner, and trying to maintain generally hospitable living conditions, we're sitting on Wednesday night and it just doesn't have the same effect after reliving the event multiple times with multiple people. Plus, I'm way funnier the less I have to talk about and the more time I have to do it. Thus, I can no longer do justice to how much fun Max and Elisabeth's wedding was. All that's important is that the bride and groom were clearly having fun, as shown above. So were the rest of us.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="TEXT-DECORATION: none" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijJG43PIWx41AlmAQkAdlZbwQHsuTaHDCmbtYoFTXBu3pi9qYZTanzYYELCt8rjT1jsgSBfp4DI-73fY2-m_zQMnAsJofKvws1dOMKXzx6V6vSljl-oEV1w1JjCwTclP81m1edtpkkUYg/s1600-h/DSCN0659.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389694106755097810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: left" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijJG43PIWx41AlmAQkAdlZbwQHsuTaHDCmbtYoFTXBu3pi9qYZTanzYYELCt8rjT1jsgSBfp4DI-73fY2-m_zQMnAsJofKvws1dOMKXzx6V6vSljl-oEV1w1JjCwTclP81m1edtpkkUYg/s320/DSCN0659.JPG" border="0" /></a> <div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV2aoOLUigSqCSDeZN9I-jAXD_UYbK6yMwm02Zt-7_78kdx7oRwcXK5iqe5qgC1_W66B3p0VaAT5paQJTSXpvHP_qGPh14o-UuwbeEwfeqoy_LRrOE2yXqDsdqCGwnnN3oi7DE3eqc7dk/s1600-h/DSCN0643.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389694087255451426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV2aoOLUigSqCSDeZN9I-jAXD_UYbK6yMwm02Zt-7_78kdx7oRwcXK5iqe5qgC1_W66B3p0VaAT5paQJTSXpvHP_qGPh14o-UuwbeEwfeqoy_LRrOE2yXqDsdqCGwnnN3oi7DE3eqc7dk/s320/DSCN0643.JPG" border="0" /></a>Time not spent at the wedding was spent hanging out in Baltimore with Lawrence (aka The Law, L-Train, and some others I can't think of), one of my best buds from high school. We hit up the orioles game on Friday night, then hit up an excellent breakfast place (at 2 pm), followed by the greatest bar with the greatest beer selection I've ever seen (and that says a lot) on Sunday for football games. On the way there, I picked up a free t-shirt at the neighborhood festival with a "Big Boyz Bail Bonds" logo on front and back. You can't make this stuff up. What a way to cap off the weekend. Baltimore baby!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Song of the Day:<br /><br /><br />Wilco - You and ISeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-25407955614635403472009-09-28T11:15:00.001-07:002009-09-28T13:43:38.661-07:00"I'll be the one in black..."...A very unhelpful tip Graham gave me to help me find him upon arriving to the scene of all scenes - a death metal concert. Thankfully Graham is 6'8 and I've since learned that everyone who attends death metal concerts and isn't a 10 year old kid is 5'2 and 125 lbs. I guess I'd be angry too if I was so scrawny. I'll tell you what though - this is their one shot to throw their small amount of weight around. I've never been blatantly shoved, jostled, and walked through in my life like I was last night. I just had to laugh at the audacity of these wimps. I figure they either count on that reaction or just don't care if they die, hence their attachment to death metal. I have to say, this was a pretty special experience because when else do you get to hang with people like this:<br /><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386587329986791298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHo_ojDyFwtgiFeICQoSHCUwUWagrN1-cqzHoUkhg_NEtSHqJfd1-odIKgmgAEkb5KMm6GybkW7qCjh3UsPs1WocNHBLJicqRNm2zqj2oAS1rgO5pEFeytZhCz76u3k8MWhvhJQ05an0/s320/DSCN0622.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div>So, here's how it all went down. We were going to see Children of Bodom. Skeleton Witch and Black Dahlia Murder opened for them (I'm not kidding, I swear). As soon as you walked into the place, you could smell sweat, dirty hair, and most of all teen angst. I missed Skeleton Witch but as Black Dahlia Murder was doing their sound check, the lead singer goes, "check, check check...brgghhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa." And for those who don't know, brggghhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa is the "growl" from <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c55ybIOGEeU&feature=related">this video</a>. <p>During the Black Dahlia Murder set, there was this teenage couple (roughly 14ish) who were relentlessly making out. They stopped for a while, but then they launched into it again when Black Dahlia Murder turned the romance on high with "Closed Casket Requiem." Other gems from the evening included "Christ Deformed", "Statutory Ape", "Are You Dead Yet?", and "Blood Drunk." Children of Bodom even calls their fans the Hate Crew. </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386613954196722258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4fyDt7XF2zpXrAHCuCH0-DI0Y7aiwyObxg4NcdUeiN6QUB-zFzo-VAYP_2do_qVE0fT2oFr1GQRO3TeHrgzo0z8yujZ4zzpVY64urfSXzdBKvXOCbR7AVBGfSuo-gCgYaE9TwH2LscFw/s320/DSCN0619.JPG" border="0" />Thus, Sunday September 27, 2009 was the very day that my mom feared when I was 10 and she still wouldn't let me listen to any non-Christian music besides the Beach Boys and Phil Collins. Don't worry mom, I don't like death metal and after last night, I am not convinced to do drugs, hate and/or kill my parents, nor worship Satan. Last night, I learned that with this kind of music, there's no point in lyrics. There's just hard thrashing guitars and lots of f-bombs to give anger-ridden teenagers a chance to take out their hatred for pretty much everything by relentlessly launching themselves into each other. I even remember when I had a bit of that anger myself.<br /><p>Now, fast forward....Years of disappointment with stupid humans, the corporations being all corporationy, and the government being just horrible have made me grizzled and indifferent to the status quo. While I admire the aspirations of Children of Bodom to change the world (though they're probably not sure to what) through metal, "telling those bastards what we think of their rules," will not actually be heard by "those bastards" because those bastards don't listen to heavy metal. And even if they did, they wouldn't understand what you're saying because you're just growling and screaming nonsense the whole time. Oh wait a second. I'm grown up, I wear a brooks brothers shirt and dress pants every day, and earn a decent living. <em>I </em>am one of those bastards! </p>I must say this about metal though, at least Children of Bodom. The musicians are actually really, really talented. They have to be. Every song is so fast so there's a lot of notes in a short period of time, which makes for some really impressive guitar and bass. The drums are cool too because the bass drummer has to play two bass drums instead of the normal one. Bottom line - I respect the talent but am just not that into metal as a genre. However, it makes for great people watching and is actually no harder on the ears than any other concert. There should definitely be a "Next Metal Star" if there isn't already. Then again, what makes it heavy metal also makes it not fit for TV I guess. Long live death! (note the irony). Brrrrgghhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhyeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <br /><br /><br /><br />Song of the Day:<br /><br />Children of Bodom - Are You Dead Yet?Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-91756316180730755852009-09-22T06:26:00.000-07:002009-09-24T11:15:52.005-07:00"That was a ninja turtles shirt and it was the right thing to do"So, as I write this, I'm still in the process of trying to bring myself back to life from the shenanigans that went down this weekend. Me and a bunch of college friends, all of whom are bigger than me by 30-100 pounds, got together in Tahoe in honor of our fallen comrade, Max, who will be dedicating his life to a female named Elizabeth in less than two weeks. We are very happy for you Max and happy for ourselves that you getting married has provided us with an excuse to get together twice in a two week period. Soon you will be blessed with a beatiful wife, which I've been told will be accompanied by a "honey do" list. I just recently learned (not first hand, thank God) that this is a widely used term and I am frankly sickened by this revelation. For this weekend though, it was nothing but absurd amounts of dude. It's one of those that is best explained with pictures, though the pictures that most adequately describe the tenor of the weekend can't really be posted here. Most of the best pics I have were from a hike we went on through the mountains on Saturday. Severely dehydrated and not under the legal limit aren't the best ways to take a hike in an extremely dry climate but we made it work...<br /><br /><br /><div align="center">Potsmokers shanty we found up on the mountain. A pothead actually had the attention span to build this. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385091490154498930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnJoAGuqUuyd381vPUIGy7kLFW0KL0lzVAMzNi0dBKlAYPkT5rN7HzuvSK9clhxS97hN-5ddjQKJBEm7IsbDQpeFTiZTJqB7puv0_TXx1Nb5P8kb4dk8TwuFgSoO15awUteM0-ua0rRso/s200/DSCN0543.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Here we found this, I'm not sure what it means but I liked it enough to declare it the theme for the weekend.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385091503234373730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTN7lytSr0r7B4bCgHtkZQg8IxsURNAWQCIo0oocWUfEqJBMsW6YSLFBrH93MzxC7B_uLcHu-2sUwtmueq6fjNZSqpQXq2_mlkgae4ENhpS-cpqrQGp6xGC2x0H0st4ySit4QZPDGjmTA/s200/DSCN0546.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Then, we found this sweet rope tied to a tree, which started playtime. Despite getting riddled with splinters the first time, this is me doing it a second time because it was fun. Now I know how KC feels when he knowingly drinks Mount Gay Rum despite being allergic to it. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385092056054767170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_k7TrMpp6q361jLYoYe9kYVF-Y-VKE5_R38ExESwzOa3_4HSxxufHjQ6DPz9tNHrpa5cXTb6Xy32yyAD-SaWtMiWrs9NtFwPXcy1kQ9kfoTrrOzULPWGken0yzBYaiiNpDONSJ8mqaY/s200/DSCN0554.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div align="center">The splintered hands hurt, but not as much as when I dropped down to the ground. Look at my posture and look to the left of the picture. Yup. </div><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385092069075482178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2vrJ5IJZVirKDZPLwxAVvS5R-NZ-W3oEnJM7QLg-erWxih-_MvJKg0XuZinZiJrCH_IbbcNUjGPfqSj6KLXd_SVOHkWD0jhppP9ddk7UrWyADlUI2zh3QKFoIb8sErqDkGV327cvSms/s200/DSCN0555.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">The view did not suck</div><div align="center"><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385091509238099714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_oAno4OfYGZDA6QNh2ILxDgYyX4c-3pm_bWpvojrZcLo8b_BMM82IpsxFhbeyePxepJD_G0d27Luvi4frfWMrdGq0oAwBzHW8UgTtn2Trqu-hmHnGt5Sp0I5dGzK5scOtDA4XIKOEr1o/s200/DSCN0556.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center">A small preview of the shenanigans....</div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbgYn_frmn9PYBJGZ0hRpsHPvpS4SFHeMJk1V1ouESPZzaJfcSv4FL8HiwiOj3ZjSx5122aLogAHFipuHzlNv1fgklVTqhnJXUN4F7zSH_EDN_O6Pjr2NC6C_-vpCDym0hrzTAFFoOU6o/s1600-h/DSCN0574.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385092045468607234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbgYn_frmn9PYBJGZ0hRpsHPvpS4SFHeMJk1V1ouESPZzaJfcSv4FL8HiwiOj3ZjSx5122aLogAHFipuHzlNv1fgklVTqhnJXUN4F7zSH_EDN_O6Pjr2NC6C_-vpCDym0hrzTAFFoOU6o/s200/DSCN0574.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />....and of makeshift cheeseburger subs (a twooooooo, a twoooooooo a cheeeese a boooooooorger)<br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385091466540832098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixgjYo0CVSndK7BlDN-B5foMpjpaWy3rTE2ry6RObJPylYaQVlp1UoQOjDiUA-l3Is_gtmiUtCJm1WWPqjBq4I-NR8mNfRBKj9cF888fUXeCP6BqkLntgEGPjBqAUI2ixqWJRfw8gQxos/s200/DSCN0506.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div>...and lastly of pain intentionally inflicted upon friends. I know one person who is sad he missed this fratty retarded, yet hilarious, awesome game more than anyone else who was not in attendance: Brian Niemczak. </div><div> </div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1874tATyLYt11Z6NggReeSfxU13dtlQyH08uvItrwMpKGC_UKkDKogUaK_UV9O7FeypvMsjPFkQx6531FfY4WvIbRGeavv-D9H8RN4RirCSo7j9zZ4F0x5AJLdg5VHV8wgZuYTijGdQY/s1600-h/DSCN0515.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385091480786052306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1874tATyLYt11Z6NggReeSfxU13dtlQyH08uvItrwMpKGC_UKkDKogUaK_UV9O7FeypvMsjPFkQx6531FfY4WvIbRGeavv-D9H8RN4RirCSo7j9zZ4F0x5AJLdg5VHV8wgZuYTijGdQY/s200/DSCN0515.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Songs of the Weekend:</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Show me your...</div><div align="left">Pearl Jam - Daughter, Jeremy (a capella, a la tub de hot)</div><div align="left">Stone Temple Pilots - Plush (a capella, a la tub de hot)</div><div align="left">Weezer - Say it Ain't So (a capella, a la tub de hot)</div><div align="left">Toploader - Dancin in the Moonlight (live at delightfully cheesy karaoke bar)</div><div align="left">Some others I can't think of because I hate Kings of Leon and their song Use Somebody so much and I can't get it out of my head. Gonna make you notttttttiiiiiiiiiiicceeee..... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Go open for U2 or something guys. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><br /></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-56665385878540314072009-09-13T19:51:00.000-07:002009-09-13T20:25:40.007-07:00A Day With TigerNothing humorous to report today but just a gushing blog about the greatest golfer ever. I just found out yesterday that I snagged tickets to the final round of the BMW Championship at Cog Hill. Even though Tiger was up by 85 strokes after shooting a 62 on Saturday, I figured since it was such a nice day, there was no way I could pass up the chance to see him. I am so glad I went. Unfortunately though, I just washed my car yesterday and they forced me to park in a grass field with a dirt driveway so my car is now really dirty again. A second negative was that they didn't allow cameras or cell phones. I guess this is a good thing but I had some incredible photo ops. Most notably, I saw a guy wearing a Herman Moore Detroit Lions jersey. I couldn't take his picture but I sure as hell walked up to him and shook his hand. <div><br /></div><div>Golf wise, I was impressed with the diversity of the crowd though it was kind of creepy to see all of the Tiger clones everywhere. Grown men dressed just like him - same hat, same shirt. Real creepy. It was a magical day though. I always seemed to find myself in the right place at the right time. Tiger walked by me within a few feet twice and I gotta say, it's really hard not to be in awe of the guy. It's Tiger! In the flesh. I was grinning like a little kid. I was so close that I heard him drop an F bomb when he walked up to his ball after being on the wrong side of the fairway. This was right before he curled a 9 iron around a tree and brought it into the green from the side door. He's so good. They all are. Another impressive thing was how tall everyone is. </div><div><br /></div><div>I actually think Tiger and I caught eyes and he gave me a knowing look after he dropped a 320 yard bomb on the 11th. I know you got it on lock Tiger. Holla at yer boy. It was even cool seeing the people from NBC. Roger Maltby is even fatter in person. Padraig Harrington plays slow....really slow. He held up everything. Slow play is even annoying when you're not playing behind them. I may have also even been on TV. When Tiger's playing partner Marc Leishman was way left, also on the 11th hole, I was at the front of the tunnel of fans that he hit through. If I were hitting, I would not have been standing where I was standing. The other cool thing was getting to see the faces of those idiots you always hear on TV yelling "get in the hole!!!!" They are exactly how you picture them. It was a perfect day. I even bolted after Tiger finished the 16th, avoided the traffic crush, and got home no problem. Big ups to my man Fred for the ticket and to Tiger for being such a ridiculous golfer with a ridiculously foul mouth. Check out the highlights <a href="http://www.pgatour.com/video/">here</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Song of the Day:</div><div><br /></div><div>Kenan Bell - Good Day</div><div><br /></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-7406324953935524722009-09-08T06:10:00.000-07:002009-09-08T09:58:55.006-07:00Potpourri<span style="font-size:85%;">I've seen a lot of things in the last few weeks that I meant to blog about and I just haven't gotten around to it. They were the best of times, they were the weirdest of times....</span><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">First, there was this lady who was sitting in her wheelchair in the middle of a busy road. I was about to go suggest that she move over to the sidewalk, then she just took off down the middle of the road and let me tell you, that wheelchair moved fast! But not fast enough to be on a major street. Really dumb....and dangerous, and she was absolutely fearless as cars whizzed by her and beeped their horns. </span></div><p align="center"><img height="184" src="http://mail.google.com/mail/?attid=0.1&disp=emb&view=att&th=1238bb77bf34c6a1" width="240" /></p><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Last weekend, we stopped over at the Greek festival in our neighborhood to grab some pitas for lunch. Naturally, I could not resist the opportunity to go old school and win my girlfriend a stuffed animal. My game of choice was the dart game with the balloons. Here was the result. His name is Frank, which had something to do with a discussion on hot dogs, but I don't recall exactly why we named him that.</span> <br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379130138655517266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hOiakxMkTyQ7FrFZa1qqSvpEEaFDLGYeC4aRdKiQOEvmLvELDxjOuaGVxcG9aHfqvrAfpN9uXGWE-xd33_Y0qllT_BM8i8ZjSpEWb44wlaGVxw-Zm4I31VhCO3vwLn_pzwIaqpZrnbo/s200/DSCN0486.JPG" border="0" /></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">I am happy to report that Frank has been a well behaved penguin so far and has been a great addition to the house. We've learned that we are really good at having pets that don't require any personal attention whatsoever.</span> </p><span style="font-size:85%;">In much more disheartening news (DON'T LAUGH!!!!), this happened to my bike last Thursday after a really bad day.</span><br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 252px; HEIGHT: 170px" height="1092" src="http://mail.google.com/mail/?attid=0.1&disp=emb&view=att&th=1238bbba7e3a2c08" width="1309" /><br /><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;">So my bike is parked outside the office and someone rips off the handle bar grips? I mean, what the hell?????? Who does that? It's not like they punctured a tire or worse, stole a tire. I can go buy two new grips for like $5 so it's just mean and unfortunately capped off an already bad day. Frank was not happy either and expressed his disdain for this individual with this telling expression. </span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><img style="WIDTH: 246px; HEIGHT: 184px" height="1088" src="http://mail.google.com/mail/?attid=0.1&disp=emb&view=att&th=1238bbedf851d4c4" width="1300" /></span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">I can just picture some stupid college kid with floppy, curly hair, as seems to be the style these days, walking past it with a few of his d-bag buddies and saying,</span> </p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">"Hey check this out guys. Because I'm a complete asshole, and because you guys are complete assholes too, which is why we are friends, and because I will one day go to hell anyways for all the dick moves I've pulled thus far in my worthless existence, I'm going to take these grips off a complete stranger's bike. He will never have seen this coming. He's going to be so inconvenienced by having to ride this bike a couple times while using the handlebars with no rubber grips before he's able to make the 0.5 mile trip to the bike shop to get new grips. Though I have no concept of what being a man is, I want to declare that I am such an alpha male for having done this. You will now think I'm super cool. Hey guys, let's go the LaCoste store and buy some pink polos. Then, we can pop the collars, wear aviator sunglasses, and give unsuspecting chicks on the street a taste of the gun show. On the way back to the frat house, we can pick up a couple skim soy lattes from S-bucks, cross swords over someone's car, knock a little kid off his scooter, and light some bags of each other's feces on fire on an elderly couple's porch."</span><br /></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">Here's to you douchebag frat boy. I hope you die.</span><br /></p><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Fast forward to labor day weekend. On Saturday morning, I went to the fish market to pick up a red snapper for date night Saturday evening. That's right my friends, I grilled a whole red snapper. His name was Fred (not to be confused with Frank, who was not grilled). I didn't take a "before" picture because that would have been sad, but here's the after. Fred, you were a delicious, healthy looking fish, which is why I bought you instead of one of your school mates. I'm sorry if the pain associated with removal of your scales was compounded by the copious amounts of salt and pepper I sprinkled on you. I'm also sorry if the rosemary, thyme and lemon wedges stuffed into your sides were uncomfortable in any way but this helped us most appropriately honor your death by eating you and enjoying it. Plus, you were already dead before both of these events so I don't think it was an issue. Regardless, you should know that you did not die in vain. Amen.</span> <br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379130148847915618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 228px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 176px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVo46KN-5mxQw7LsPrigNoxwNFsE2tdHH5mnaKTdO_X4wcu6t6TWz_axT8gFKF5LGx2WEvpOBn7_sDRbUSzrN1ezl3JQ3iWRlpGekply2LtwTc-tmWmH9rSntHiLPgsB6vOyFpO3pG9AM/s200/DSCN0488.JPG" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Song of the Day:</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">Illinois - Hang On</span></p>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-4578896544991260322009-08-28T07:33:00.000-07:002009-08-28T16:53:11.815-07:00Carrie goes to Berlin (a guest blog)<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXSEgmw3tX1XLJztN14mggx32cPUo9ei6B4uGFU9eHCvkYB7aYb1ZXzjXy42rUXZC0kRD2wPb2GmSnR8bR4BKe8Mab47BcXmh0K0L6sPQuaHHLcAtUEkje5oBrZs-LPmoeB3rDdwn6-ec/s1600-h/Berlin+004.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXSEgmw3tX1XLJztN14mggx32cPUo9ei6B4uGFU9eHCvkYB7aYb1ZXzjXy42rUXZC0kRD2wPb2GmSnR8bR4BKe8Mab47BcXmh0K0L6sPQuaHHLcAtUEkje5oBrZs-LPmoeB3rDdwn6-ec/s200/Berlin+004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375025023289036322" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">As Sean mentioned in his previous post, he has asked me to do a guest blog about my recent trip to Berlin. Like any dedicated girlfriend would, here I am, telling you dedicated readers about the two weeks I spent in one of my favorite cities. I was in Berlin for the IAAF World Championships for Athletics as part of the Chicago 2016 team, attempting to win votes and hearts. The glamorous work my coworker Lizzie and I did included assembling our booth, hauling boxes, standing in the booth for 13 hours at a time and making hand motions because we don't speak German. Here are some additional highlights and lessons learned from the trip:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">1. Traveling in Europe on an expense account is pretty sweet. It sure beats having to pay the exchange rate on your own.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">2. The Germans are still dealing with their twisted history and Berlin is full of examples of this ongoing struggle. The Olympic Stadium ("Olympiastadion" for those of us who are fluent), where I spent most of my time, is quite an imposing place. The site of numerous Nazi rallies was also, of course, the site of Jesse Owens' victories in 1936. There are also random memorials all over the city - constant reminders to Berliners.</span></div><div><br /></div></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYhbObZ7Cs_pH_kfc0syFTouT7dBLCHM8VsCj-bJ6qHpew5kIXHROcohiY6X4p3E-UIccGBCBZ8NhkRCH9NImjWq7CiYoMNxAJM1r14Ok6IljwCmoEt6xR9tdKbmQCd07y6k_CIaqJusU/s1600-h/Berlin+%232+060.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYhbObZ7Cs_pH_kfc0syFTouT7dBLCHM8VsCj-bJ6qHpew5kIXHROcohiY6X4p3E-UIccGBCBZ8NhkRCH9NImjWq7CiYoMNxAJM1r14Ok6IljwCmoEt6xR9tdKbmQCd07y6k_CIaqJusU/s200/Berlin+%232+060.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375026637466229970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Small memorial in the Mitte neighborhood</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></span></div></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiozN_o6gIxcfWEXtWbffc-TgiG1Zz8ROdxgL7hg6zXUL0VEHFoT6zhGVZFUEIZda44YI_xGhd5Z_9rhfeYVLcQh4THeJOedjI_FUbzdp7Vp0pGG7TM_q6TMPqHZSe9tYMJO3kITyi25kQ/s1600-h/Berlin+%232+040.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiozN_o6gIxcfWEXtWbffc-TgiG1Zz8ROdxgL7hg6zXUL0VEHFoT6zhGVZFUEIZda44YI_xGhd5Z_9rhfeYVLcQh4THeJOedjI_FUbzdp7Vp0pGG7TM_q6TMPqHZSe9tYMJO3kITyi25kQ/s200/Berlin+%232+040.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375026462622112018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We happened upon this piece of the wall one night</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:7;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:48px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCSNOx0LcK5M9x73X5qKL14msaE7UmdqzNLpr8Bxx-p-6VL_-j-ZCFZ2jGqpD8qqDAtuQE3CTxv59GDvQlEK5cB_ZE-EYrQb5gVg7eQjPJqRJ3NpRo-yRhCrlAa-t4UXutthVLucDoOOo/s1600-h/Berlin+%234+008.jpg" style="text-decoration: none; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCSNOx0LcK5M9x73X5qKL14msaE7UmdqzNLpr8Bxx-p-6VL_-j-ZCFZ2jGqpD8qqDAtuQE3CTxv59GDvQlEK5cB_ZE-EYrQb5gVg7eQjPJqRJ3NpRo-yRhCrlAa-t4UXutthVLucDoOOo/s200/Berlin+%234+008.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375025998037866834" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This bombed-out church stands as a reminder - we walked by it daily on our way to the subway</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></span></div></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">3. My favorite thing about Berlin is the trees. West Berlin is especially rife with tree-lined streets and parks. It is a stark contrast to the West Loop.</span></div><div><br /></div></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZBI-ny7kYpantTr9ZKwkwaM6fPyysG5c-mMHSJH2-iyu0I_BiIgKjBeKbOEmWwn-RPt-qxkSvG54w3wt-D50i-Dc001D_J7w9H1Gcy7Qq0FmsStOK__bnF02H-UbyqIFdOkKkE7x1v6A/s1600-h/Berlin+008.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZBI-ny7kYpantTr9ZKwkwaM6fPyysG5c-mMHSJH2-iyu0I_BiIgKjBeKbOEmWwn-RPt-qxkSvG54w3wt-D50i-Dc001D_J7w9H1Gcy7Qq0FmsStOK__bnF02H-UbyqIFdOkKkE7x1v6A/s200/Berlin+008.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375024292397279186" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Outside my hotel</span></div></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center; "><div style="text-align: left;">4. <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;">Berlin is a very green city in general. People recycle (25 cents for every returned bottle adds up!), eat local food that is in season and ride bikes everywhere. So I clearly loved it.</span></div></div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:48px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOhBeLQWy4e5tT97cMXAx4TzNaDgNn4GcpV0AJE2wdTbDJHyB7lnfrb_JCIwqZ7VFIhhHAbhF_MK79jqRNT8otqEkpa4a0FlQjpLku5djA7_lqVdJDn1jo9dysKZrM1ODge8pH16cRBk/s1600-h/Berlin+%234+003.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOhBeLQWy4e5tT97cMXAx4TzNaDgNn4GcpV0AJE2wdTbDJHyB7lnfrb_JCIwqZ7VFIhhHAbhF_MK79jqRNT8otqEkpa4a0FlQjpLku5djA7_lqVdJDn1jo9dysKZrM1ODge8pH16cRBk/s200/Berlin+%234+003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375030781701066370" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">a typical bike lane</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjkCKROvobcKWU01220K3h45XWqVWWnPpaPlMiz4qpk3bbHy_CGN0KinLEjwP7lESFcGvqlmB9wMDL5L1TRCVU4UV1yUwwvy_ZG1odaRa7tCgH8q5I2X5IMbiceosmzgywacfMamh_0w/s200/Berlin+%232+016.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375030450506949010" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXSEgmw3tX1XLJztN14mggx32cPUo9ei6B4uGFU9eHCvkYB7aYb1ZXzjXy42rUXZC0kRD2wPb2GmSnR8bR4BKe8Mab47BcXmh0K0L6sPQuaHHLcAtUEkje5oBrZs-LPmoeB3rDdwn6-ec/s1600-h/Berlin+004.jpg"></a></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Tiergarten, Berlin's "Central Park"</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_n38OBQXZtRJw71aE6KuLprwlitMILskAZ5VTH-QpsmIH0z92E2GSOg6ndX3NO9JJZy0FTChL1DxZzfCADu3sd8gd2nkV5UGj6wWs3h0spUd_b-rUyiuO0HkXTHtyEkmKHkDkqHkf8Q/s200/Berlin+%232+014.jpg" /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Our entry into Tiergarten - beautiful</span><br /><br /></span></div></span></div></span><div>5. Yoga in another language is a transformative experience. I even learned that "twist" in German means "twist" in English. If you are ever in Berlin, go to this studio (it also happens to be next to a very cute chocolate shop). This will likely be the only time yoga is discussed on this blog, so enjoy it.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VEFp7Q1w-E50vnAmoqeEb-ZKXuGmS87HHtdtOM_GLgeMFj9uX-RE6FkWc_xz9MwDYj3ShV6yP-9LuTdqVDoZNoVKt8zj2iZiqpAmMsmkzpIXsskPHT04tzzQWb0QJ5lLQ2hWEq6o0Qs/s1600-h/Berlin+001.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VEFp7Q1w-E50vnAmoqeEb-ZKXuGmS87HHtdtOM_GLgeMFj9uX-RE6FkWc_xz9MwDYj3ShV6yP-9LuTdqVDoZNoVKt8zj2iZiqpAmMsmkzpIXsskPHT04tzzQWb0QJ5lLQ2hWEq6o0Qs/s200/Berlin+001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375024754183984386" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Spirt Yoga Berlin</span></div><div><br /></div><div>6. Europeans feel differently about nudity than Americans. I couldn't bring myself to take a picture of the man taking an open air shower in the middle of Tiergarten. I did take one of naked men laying out, but I figure this photo is probably all I can get away with on Sean's blog.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuGczpkagEoOBbpBYSd0XT1qHMUGIGH8IwjaNYATXJ4NO2jxQt8ZLtJu9aR1L9sWudTDvnWEFL_6W9A0xNBcs4k32MuM4YPsc4ULupg9LxVHEPLCNs7AoYt4YbNJ7QdXEYqpd79QW5zQs/s1600-h/Berlin+%232+002.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuGczpkagEoOBbpBYSd0XT1qHMUGIGH8IwjaNYATXJ4NO2jxQt8ZLtJu9aR1L9sWudTDvnWEFL_6W9A0xNBcs4k32MuM4YPsc4ULupg9LxVHEPLCNs7AoYt4YbNJ7QdXEYqpd79QW5zQs/s200/Berlin+%232+002.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375031593856447922" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:13px;"></span>5. Usain Bolt is very fast.</span></div></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjiNwaYL_7XyS9vHaLY57LaEbGWlRykMgSXYcQ8ONZEyEY-7meNtTmZ9zPc0qZMLohxuC06gsPUPBtmpdtiplVY0wkAcAv6OrELpeO8a1pTlS-tOCzQX-bLzibT0-1YAJq3BDbyyZAzrQ/s200/Berlin+030.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375029746076580242" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhBNrJ47UGBaVL8XbcQLMiWfEuU-BT4ChyphenhyphenMjYkxL98B3-K6M2WnhNOHS4HkY_aFyunPwNVSP-Lv542BaTCyJyTP2Fz8kiSwQ4PPdWnXGRDF1klFGDayO1Wqp5MM1RwQJB-vttxOhkwtoI/s1600-h/Berlin+032.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhBNrJ47UGBaVL8XbcQLMiWfEuU-BT4ChyphenhyphenMjYkxL98B3-K6M2WnhNOHS4HkY_aFyunPwNVSP-Lv542BaTCyJyTP2Fz8kiSwQ4PPdWnXGRDF1klFGDayO1Wqp5MM1RwQJB-vttxOhkwtoI/s200/Berlin+032.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375029905213621426" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXOCLnKLeodO72bqXJh3U7FB4wwEHcF_sZ3igMKcH6j_370kJjrsuMHRLl14ho3U180KtZlKguakZ4BWs3ZE8mcYfqm8rpCq-d4BtYDP-CT70bzrBh7ZtEHXNKHdK-1CC5SjvncFU5e08/s200/Berlin+031.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375029823491585138" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">7. My favorite part of the competition, and maybe even the trip in general, was the remote-controlled truck sent out to pick up the hammers from the hammer throw. Notice how there is a stuffed bear driving the truck. You know you think it's funny.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LVG2cvjfm-cLoGc0iRrihoRmjSQh55gXw8kQs8TM0i-WS0g84NCDUIVAPIv7IxYT2YLu4ncyTxv4-KX6tIgxrhpSOH2Zkon4IBZ_VFYLudSxVwurebo9GI2VXfGgRfhI7Sn5bQMfstQ/s1600-h/Berlin+%232+035.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LVG2cvjfm-cLoGc0iRrihoRmjSQh55gXw8kQs8TM0i-WS0g84NCDUIVAPIv7IxYT2YLu4ncyTxv4-KX6tIgxrhpSOH2Zkon4IBZ_VFYLudSxVwurebo9GI2VXfGgRfhI7Sn5bQMfstQ/s200/Berlin+%232+035.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375031932694133138" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">He took his job very seriously</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_a_zVfUBTccz2JvlPgRf_nT_7ILfGVh5EYoFe7-1j4v4gEOA0FIp7EOHg9FhikNMq6CmSYsILBByOKL3qM4gHRrA9Zaq0wsg7K1ZOk4Xa-4u2nvSRTht9WwLcL5UfuU4pzC65qFqH_Y/s1600-h/Berlin+%232+033.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_a_zVfUBTccz2JvlPgRf_nT_7ILfGVh5EYoFe7-1j4v4gEOA0FIp7EOHg9FhikNMq6CmSYsILBByOKL3qM4gHRrA9Zaq0wsg7K1ZOk4Xa-4u2nvSRTht9WwLcL5UfuU4pzC65qFqH_Y/s200/Berlin+%232+033.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375031834909677346" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">A hard worker like this deserves two pictures</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">8. Watching the events in the stadium was really exciting. The crowd was incredible - they cheered for everyone, regardless of nationality. </span></div></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnF98rWS6-ExRnMU35FaNUNJHSx6TWO-OW1j4bgGFUMX0gwL3lZM6KtTp4Q0eN94kQuEsgMxSfWRcrMi_actz162lWRPCmKZG4-WLQpYRO0vC3BAgJV-KNMAl3plmjDl34oAKMWAUOUY/s200/Berlin+029.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375034321864784082" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The Olympic Stadium has almost 75,000 seats! It was therefore never full</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNES_et2ukqp18UVZsGzjt4Ewb-FPQ_V9bSYtpAGeu6xFcl2xKAsWc13o-uEenhf7qY7E97-lbREmpqXuUSUSAMpgJQKevLqIrSgGDkem5F6hnsxGSSjhf_IUJOpRSDgdFYg-a2TxmSc/s1600-h/Berlin+%232+028.jpg"></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixvjzXOKDl61-qE6dC3TNGf-MkTV4FXzEuoHSv0UB4rls25RdSq1mEEwajDldB95vTHbFiyf0ldLlv6GR9ZEndbNgHiYOmRv56rbL7_ZNjvy4gnkGPP423uBO7xIVDGKNuQMG_WQIPeKo/s200/Berlin+%232+010.jpg" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Yelena Isinbayeva missing her third attempt (it was a big deal)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdr9wMHFgkbaSl1Wj091Ye-jL2TEyouEovQgz3MpDJJQPGfiwdekfVsw9VveE8bYD16rOi2lkKHR45mcrESWi59_QTwxUXwsLsTVPvH0SwZcMC0N6om3HFf4597chjM3l_AieC3av49U/s200/Berlin+%234+010.jpg" /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The U.S. women celebrating their 4x400 victory</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyhWC5FSmc2Cwqpr6qkloQrlOU9aHG8xEWixRmsS7omdTML8SxfThJgld69Yi9KRqThDXfRRDwCRouRIa3u8g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Men's 4x400m relay - the crowd went nuts (and the U.S. men won)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wdyQKtimgfGCuly8m3qr5hjPtYMhMSE4-OiYfwRFBflsY3c5-MgcOkr3YNrgnT3x5rZ0bee_rxNNPiMTosx9GLM-QHCHP1fC3uEKl1q3g-qigT2T5QA6bi1hZaNNU3MVP68G-Sz8Mfc/s200/Berlin+%232+052.jpg" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Men's Marathon</span></div><div><br /></div><div><div>9. The Chicago 2016 booth was cited by many as the best (obvi).</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnDsUCLNIHRUOi0C7XoxycPAq27zgq3JwmL9MgJKnytqdnWw0Y1_Hx3qdyMGA9aYoJp3LuaoWN65HTu31on9qSN072OTpZXK-z788Cfu6RJhxV9JPr0LGGWKbgD2BHD8rsNGGkOTT9A2w/s200/Berlin+013.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375034108084664770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Lizzie on day one - ready for the crowds. We were not ready for the flood of people grabbing everything that was not nailed down</span></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh40So0cPBxCiLPW2-LHZhNwtGr6tYscV2ptWWETtsiLwAoz4AxAeo2EJiDkSbfbDDc3zDpxyv4qax5T9q98G7UYcJtMHscT2mdxoUw9JNz80N_dvIO7_yrTkaw70PmmLHarYOJN1Z9VyQ/s200/Berlin+%232+001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375034438042519570" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Olympic race walker Gary Morgan shows visitors around our booth</span></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6W6JW4up7c6DXJdTgOvLOsdRRrlIAG8r7ZM74nkV6FAO3JSI1YW53azA4jLIP0N-rpBakwTxQKyM5Mjt1FRV8STWIkTkAbp82u8Bbm3JGA4knl2QIKG5-jfni1SCpvdf4Mr_w77VOCKM/s200/Berlin+026.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375034199798212226" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></div><div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The mascot paid us a visit</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQVq3-RRJ4Hs43fzlrxUQZXRsMP2lo_BuCuULlMCbOMUByLMqXFGJKZijEmyIkq6GNg_92ujCkGXM3B87ATRUn597EarWUbxpQjvRbr35d55OuiqVAEKKz4q9esor5vED2kay5B1DkuM/s200/Berlin+%234+012.jpg" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So did Edwin Moses and his lovely wife</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Overall the trip was wonderful, even though I missed my boyfriend terribly the whole time. Until next time, auf wiedersehen! </div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyNCQ7KWdEdVApsQuihXoGHwBfaqEBkNpRZHL-DyMA4Tt9Re45FxgVwElSfPMmUsVcJngcvRphfBDXBYGRwjaoertXqkVUiP_ow9VnRUOgAFzYgqU9dPJIEYPPruNNH8tTaGMl8J33Xio/s1600-h/Berlin+009.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyNCQ7KWdEdVApsQuihXoGHwBfaqEBkNpRZHL-DyMA4Tt9Re45FxgVwElSfPMmUsVcJngcvRphfBDXBYGRwjaoertXqkVUiP_ow9VnRUOgAFzYgqU9dPJIEYPPruNNH8tTaGMl8J33Xio/s200/Berlin+009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375032148247553730" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a><br /><div><br /></div></div></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-35600890917020619082009-08-25T20:15:00.001-07:002009-08-29T16:23:02.787-07:002009 Football Season Preview<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">A lot of sports columnists do previews about the football season - who will be the winners and losers, who the breakthrough players will be, what coaches will be fired, or who will win the Heisman Trophy. Since we are about to enter my favorite time of year, I thought I would do the same. Except, I'm not going to preview the NFL or college football, but rather my own personal football season....It is time for the 2009 Sean Season Preview:</div><div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374255416759216738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 175px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcmu6x8HfFvwQiLUdkMKChz_p5Ead0sDX3HvzJWm9jAGhfokICsLLi4Ge3uSyWn9sYIp9ZNEGiJLYQa1zNqV1Ma-oLxIY4hKK8fLRewTTBn_NJWVF21ScpQKTRHc3XM6wSEr2cFW5GyjA/s200/interception.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div>Ok, let's be honest, that was five (really? five???!!!!!) football seasons ago. Here's what it's looking like for <i>this</i> season:</div><br /><div><strong>2008 Season in Review:</strong> </div><br /><div>The 2008 season had mixed results for Sean. He participated in two flag football leagues and exhibited flashes of his former athletic self, but was simultaneously riddled by a thankless job with no opportunity for advancement. Also, due to the implementation of a new system brought on by a new head coach/serious girlfriend, Sean's Saturday tailgating, previously among the best in the league, suffered. However, the new system paid dividends for Sean in other areas such as overall health, productivity, will to live on Sunday mornings, and general desirability as a human being. Sean finished the 2008 season by watching every bengals game on Sunday at Cleo's while doing the NY Times crossword puzzles in sweatpants and a hoodie.</div><div> </div><br /><div><strong>Key additions:</strong> An apartment shared with a girl that treats me well, puts up with my shenanigans, cleans up after me without getting mad that I am a guy and can't help being a slob sometimes, a new and improved job situation, a bike that will get me to and from the bar to watch games even faster, herbs (the legal kind), a wine fridge, sunlight in my apartment, a second in-house television, and a renewed hope for <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dplei_bV_SI">the return of Barry Sanders to the NFL</a>. Disregard the creepiness that could be associated with me tracking a sophomore in high school. </div><br /><div><strong>Key losses:</strong> Another 0.15 seconds in my 40 yard dash time, the ability to stay out past 1 am, an apartment within walking distance of Cleo's and the Map Room, 15 minutes of daily sportscenter watching that has been supplanted by Matt Lauer having "exclusive interviews" with somebody who is "finally speaking out for the first time," respect or hope for humanity due to aforementioned viewing of the Today show. </div><br /><div><strong>Key signings:</strong> A one-year extension for my extremely comfortable man couch that reclines and has cup holders.</div><br /><div><strong>What to watch for in 2009:</strong> Look for Sean to play like a wiley veteran in 2009. His extensive experience with the long football seasons has prepared him to not make rookie mistakes like taking shots in the midst of a long day of drinking or making up drinking games associated with the game in progress (at least not until the playoffs). His training regimen, which has consisted primarily of biking, running, red meat, grilling, and beer this summer, should prepare him well for the rigorous 2009 schedule, which includes an all-day tailgate affair associated with the early season matchup of Ohio St and USC on September 12. The following week Sean faces a huge test on the road at Lake Tahoe for a bachelor party with 15 or so dudes, followed by a Friday night affair at home to see Miike Snow in concert. Next week, Sean faces another difficult road game at the McKibben/Kreter wedding in Annapolis. If Sean makes it through this stretch with liver, pancreas, and dignity still intact, it should be smooth sailing until the buckeyes play Penn State on November 7, which last year derailed the calm, rational behavior that was characteristic of the 2008 Sean season. </div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>Here are the pre-season awards projections:</div><br /><div><strong></strong> </div><br /><div>MVP - My bike</div><div><strong></strong> </div><br /><div>Day Drinking Beer of Choice - Sam Adams Oktoberfest</div><br /><div>Best Record of Saturday bar attendance - Graham</div><div><br /></div><div>Breakout Sports Fan:<strong> </strong>Carrie (due to lack of a choice)</div><div><br /></div><div>MVB (Most Valuable Bar) - Beer Bistro</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Song of the Day:</div><div><br /></div><div>Gang Gang Dance - House Jam</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><br /><div> </div></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-78565548160230171822009-08-25T19:23:00.000-07:002009-08-25T20:13:45.518-07:00A Chicago Tour<div style="text-align: left;">So I'm way behind on posts and most of the funny stuff I've seen either went unwritten about, unphotographed or just plain forgotten immediately. Maybe now that Carrie's back from Berlin, I'll get my stuff together. I'm working on getting her to write a guest post so look for that.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I meant to write about this right after it happened so I will now. Two weeks ago my brother Brian and his four kids came to Chicago. This marked the first "big city" trip for the kids so pretty exciting stuff. They got in most of the "must do's" for Chicago including Millenium Park, the Shedd Aquarium, Hancock Tower and yes, even the venus/tourist fly traps at Navy Pier. This is Brian with the second oldest - Erynn. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs191.snc1/6440_1208860948216_1429481260_30578774_4624348_n.jpg" id="myphoto" /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">They also went to American Girl Place (what a dad!). Did you know they cut dolls' hair there? And it costs more than it costs to get my hair cut - $20!!!!! They also have a doll hospital, complete with employees dressed as nurses. Absolutely ridiculous. I was there once at Christmas to get something for Madison (the oldest) but I somehow missed all that stuff because I had on blinders going straight to where I was told the item I needed was so I could get out of there as fast as possible. Why? Because I'm a man! Yeah! Unngghhh! Meat! Fooooooballl! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We ate lots of great and unhealthy food, because unfortunately, all the Chicago staples fall into this vein (hot dogs, deep dish pizza, italian beef, sweet mandy b's cupcakes, etc..). On Saturday, we went to the Field Museum, where I found out what it's like to be a rhino, or a human that's vegan:</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFoNye-_tlNNXsBQoWRMvvlhQtfoPUivO550hjD1JD1_MDhrbGDQzBOaSM7jyaLfR55zB9C6x906EsAhmgDMGh-ZyknSp3SUekXevOXJptcmQo-6PjT8Wvb9wbJ3pYtmPVQBCl17AP4VY/s400/DSCN0460.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374094931225275234" /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And "rhinos like it rough?" What kind of kid's museum is this? On top of that, we went to the beach and saw the air show. It was sensory overload in Chicago. A really great weekend overall. Thanks for coming. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Song of the Day:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">James Yuill - This Sweet Love</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-18621076861313654162009-08-13T04:50:00.001-07:002009-08-14T07:20:34.224-07:00The Best Weekend of the Year Part 3<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">Ok for the final part of the trilogy, I will make it short for Sunday. This basically sums up Sunday. </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369416126769033682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-YxWXOpjepyIBiXYRE6hfZpaMSTkHLcpHy6dWOVjTZvbOfHZ30D8CNQ1sS68iIeV0xkmNC_rDfEeuzTYNcwNKB8wZ0r8Q9mq9ykBClPtv7Y2Nsnk1soehitD3I5PMczZYXNvDl48wjs/s320/DSCN0433.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">You see, this is what we all felt like when we woke up on Sunday. If you go back to Part I and look at Rule #5, our whole group broke parts a-c so we were pretty much comatose for half of Sunday. So by the time we all got back on the bus to Consciousville and felt like going out in the 95 degree heat again, it was around 4 pm so we missed a good chunk of Sunday (as always). Points to this guy though because he was actually like this on Sunday, not hungover from Saturday. When he eventually sat up, he said "How did I get so f***ed up? Wait, where the hell am I?" Classic. Here was the lineup for the day:</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">4:30 - 5:30 - Vampire Weekend</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">5:30 - 6:30 - Cold War Kids</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">6:30 - 7:30 - Nothing / listening to Snoop Dogg's hypeman in the distance for 45 minutes. If I was less lazy, I would have seen Deerhunter. </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">7:30-8:15 - Silversun Pickups</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">8:30 - 9:30 - The Killers</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">So now back to the more interesting days.....</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">I mentioned in Part I that I needed to devote some time to Of Montreal. I knew a couple of their songs but I really had no idea how far in outer space these guys are until I saw them live. These displays from the show should give you some idea:</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369416094053607026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5U6Gg1ni3v56YxScTWkKq0bOiS7B2LeLCE6rWRWK3Qmxi1FpgJEGR5qfLRTL8TJDaC4hav2fC0YU4TUQPojRdoITNnF_Ow_J_baCTFx7uYS5g-torAaRUS9zw9BdqGE8mPMn1toMoWXk/s320/IMG00066.jpg" border="0" /> <div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369416087045883506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSr2S4d-fial4-D8jKmeauH-W_81ZhcAHo3m3Md_neSmVnQJrP0NylVLLXcAj5K5n4dAi-JJGBzEtyGYTyULsZIHhSYpOroiXAqrtiUAEZQGPgt0EDRz6hnDvtezzGKnFzBB6_hnThbRE/s320/IMG00064.jpg" border="0" /> <div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">So should <a href="http://www.ofmontreal.net/">their website</a>. Just scroll down then hit up the interview with the lead singer from June 16. Done? Ok. So now that we're clear on that, these guys threw an absolutely phenomenal party. In the midst of all the jaw dropping weirdness going on all around, Of Montreal played great music that constantly slalomed between dance and disco, rock, and the abstract. Graham and I didn't speak for like 20 minutes because of the state of awe we were left in. The crowd was basically split between people like us who had no idea what the hell was going on, and people who were going absolutely bananas, eating up every minute of it. Next time I will be one of the latter. I love these guys.....live. They are 10x better live than you would ever hear on any of their albums. This is an experience to be had if they are ever in your town. Don't miss it. </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Now, without further ado, the Lollapalooza awards:</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">The "Sir Mix a Lot - Put em on the Glass" Best Music Video Completely Unrelated to Lollapalooza Award: </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">Coolio - Gangsta's Paradise. Yes, that is a picture of the video at the tin lizzie and yes, that's the back of Michelle Pfeiffer's head. </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9K9dyQzJlxp579GaSXcPPj933txn1W6284Yzs31UZsK9_AGCQ0vUXKAlsQ5h6sqMvu4LwWGMxav46BMePgwHDYq5jbupHKtq6-2cCNb87kOrBfyIvUjIz7ZYwnPtoB87Mt500YwZKEWY/s1600-h/DSCN0431.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369417537170225266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9K9dyQzJlxp579GaSXcPPj933txn1W6284Yzs31UZsK9_AGCQ0vUXKAlsQ5h6sqMvu4LwWGMxav46BMePgwHDYq5jbupHKtq6-2cCNb87kOrBfyIvUjIz7ZYwnPtoB87Mt500YwZKEWY/s320/DSCN0431.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">The Milwaukee's Best "D-bag frat boys of the weekend award": the two meatsticks in front of Carrie and I that were slapping each others backs as hard as they could during the Cold War Kids concert. I didn't want to encourage them by taking their photo. </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">The runners up for same and The "Billy Mays Memorial Oxi-Clean" Poop Stain Award:</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaL5271vfj2IvSpJz4EXJP1Vwr8jzkB31RqMwCW5W9kV5RgLcYdiLOIfzk255S6jGfvnnfQcdGOqameBhi4oh3flXUVLCx_FXIHpX_D3NjnRsWGoBOUhG1u9IvnNQzC_w4YMBW5-om4MM/s1600-h/DSCN0422.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369416112872544786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaL5271vfj2IvSpJz4EXJP1Vwr8jzkB31RqMwCW5W9kV5RgLcYdiLOIfzk255S6jGfvnnfQcdGOqameBhi4oh3flXUVLCx_FXIHpX_D3NjnRsWGoBOUhG1u9IvnNQzC_w4YMBW5-om4MM/s320/DSCN0422.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left">"The "Mr. Bartley's 'You Can't Beat Our Meat'" Best T-Shirt Award:</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOAfGfQXQU0KWKDbR0pN5_0nJjElhwMN-NvEH4TU2oqdDbVZHVGAvd0gNd2qi2b5tMgaP9jvIOQPHE2GAtyTnwaPZ8zlfkXc4op7AGqyQRWBkm8NTltUwcpltV-bbhnJmk2MP4EnLuKr8/s1600-h/DSCN0410.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369416103356768226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOAfGfQXQU0KWKDbR0pN5_0nJjElhwMN-NvEH4TU2oqdDbVZHVGAvd0gNd2qi2b5tMgaP9jvIOQPHE2GAtyTnwaPZ8zlfkXc4op7AGqyQRWBkm8NTltUwcpltV-bbhnJmk2MP4EnLuKr8/s320/DSCN0410.JPG" border="0" /></a>The "Barry Sanders runs into tunnel after touchdown to give handicapped kid the football" I'm a Star but I'm Still Super Cool Award:<br /><br /><br />Kevin Barnes, lead singer of Of Montreal (of Of...hahaha) throws the guitar in the air a few times in a sweet rockstar move that you hardly ever see anymore, then he hands the guitar to a kid in the front row who wore blue makeup like him and clearly idolizes him. Then, he makes sure the security guard gets the kid out of there with the guitar. What a cool moment. Even better, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFYDYSC1JOc&feature=PlayList&p=2DDB43F94BAB52A3&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=12">this was captured on film</a> in very good quality. If you don't want to watch the whole video, start at 3:30 when the inflatable sharks and rafts start going into the crowd and watch for a minute and a half. Really cool.<br /><br /><br />The "Bill Simmons" Unintentional Comedy Award:<br /><br /><br />Brandon Flowers of the Killers. The Killers have a song that is really, REALLY stupid called "Bones" I believe. Prior to playing it, he yells out, "Do you want to feeeeeel my boooone?" And he was dead serious. Dead silence. Hilarious. I think the ridiculous lyrics of this song were even funnier.<br /><br /><br />The "2007 Muse" Band of the Weekend Award - Band of Skulls<br /><br />The "Karen O" MVP Award - Karen O<br /><br />The "Busta Rhymes / Fed Ex" Mail-It-In Worst Concert Ever Award: Snoop Doggy Dogg. Low point of the weekend. He was terrible. One story about Snoop though, apparently there is a Celebrity Death Pool floating around somewhere where you vote on the next big celebrity to die. The person who told me about this picked Snoop, whatever that means. <br /><br />The "Notre Dame" Very Overrated Award - Kings of Leon<br /><br />The "Lake Superior" Cold Lake to Jump in, even in August Award: Lake Michigan<br /><br />The "Mr. Mackey" Drugs Are Bad Award" Naked Guy from Friday<br /><br />The "Cheech and Chong" We've Been High for 72 Straight Hours Award: 150,000 way tie between pretty much everyone (except us).<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Thank you and goodnight.....til next year!<br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6321419323604439070.post-14543647278081254712009-08-11T18:32:00.000-07:002009-08-11T19:15:27.727-07:00The Best Weekend of the Year Part 2<div style="text-align: left;">So, enter Day 2 of Lollapalooza. It's Saturday, I'm feeling refreshed, ready to go big for what would be my favorite day of the festival.I started off the day at 11:15 for Band of Skulls. There was no way in the world I would miss this. These guys rocked so hard I can't put it into words. In the hyper-produced world we live in today, it's rare to see something this pure come out of a guitar and out of a band as a whole. Afterwards, there were little chunks of brain laying all over the grass because many people who were not mentally prepared to be rocked to their cores first thing in the morning had the misfortune of having their heads exploded by the relentlessly raw rock dished out by Band of Skulls. For that, they get two pictures:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhZvSSNxsPvkiMtl19HoKt7ypweq0_AESBp9XYst9m9nC0KnAGXqUjfm7Yf-zeJFGddu_uPBFyeLYWNqDgvthU9CEXBjpE6pxVcLphzdycaRkLi149cb7ZQj9qbiPFRLX01IiDRwLoJA/s320/DSCN0398.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368888765231910482" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwfsJuXH0ZL1ENuylRxA_HHpYZ_Ib9EXL8bG0XgJkMVDkitDYrA1u5xJ9lH1XiINYhmVDRbs42ICNcWA8piX-6En4hbzNqhCa9MhXBw7Ez0oFyvGtMep3fAC8DZQx7VlNzCDlnUFZ1EU/s320/DSCN0399.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368888773456722146" /></div><div><br /></div><div>After heading to a party a friend invited me/us to across the street (which was by the way awesome. Thank you if you are reading this), we headed back to catch Miike Snow, another band I did not want to miss. They were even better live than I would have imagined. They needed a spot later in the evening where they could've had a good light show to match the sweet tunes. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLKiBP47-fS1SRQ-Fl6zF8AI59CcqW-N95vpHN7MQY7zHsuQKI4ph7HfChYzZ3Ajnd-alR0r_mjQkSk-uI5G4OTceJqeqvUG3yykKQjQ7s7aTHdqNNE0PxKqGzJ37wJI1_w1dDkzLRR4/s320/DSCN0403.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368888775028386946" /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div>2:30 - 3:30 - Atmosphere. Great times. They were really good. The main guy, who raps, is a white dude from Minneapolis. </div><div><br /></div><div>3:30 - 4:30 - Gomez / Trying to find everyone. I missed Blind Pilot but you can't see everything. </div><div><br /></div><div>5:30 - 6:15 - Santigold. She was awesome! Her dancers were even cooler. They danced the entire show with sunglasses on and didn't smile once. Loved the throwback 90's style. The craziest part about this show was when Graham and Samantha got up on this huge metal cannister that was looking at the stage to start dancing. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Before</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7sOA_-KUKs096Mn17B-lOb214iRBOdYZ9RUwu5jVUhSsjKD6VWWRzvXFW73chKipgOyo-apDuf6TZsiEMSsIX-62QeLjEXK703uzUkqaYhpdOlVL_Dqqd9oiKdLhgId6SrFniup2l3KQ/s320/DSCN0412.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368888789954416386" /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">After</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy3abRzSYOCG-hg5C9vBttfiwJOUGqAaTCqg3D8VNMgVRSCstBK-MNO-yGF7YJJNan1NMtwJc5tYHD9Gwr8mm0cBdflZr2G6nDVyH_OhQ0zG6fmrDa7Kvjsu3nL9UQQHAQMfzd7zD2Dec/s320/DSCN0416.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368888797910022146" /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I'm very proud of you Graham for having started this mayhem. This guy on the corner is one slip of the hand away from breaking himself. Amazing. You should have seen the people trampling over each other and shoving each other out of the way to get up on this thing. Once again proof that we are nothing but herd animals. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">6:30 - 7:30 - TV on the Radio. Really enjoyed them. Had never seen them live so that was fun. </div><div style="text-align: left;">7:30 - 8:30 - sit down and have some beers</div><div style="text-align: left;">8:30-10:00 - Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Playing before a crowd far bigger than anything they had seen in their lives, Karen O led the Yeah Yeah Yeahs in putting on an appropriately grand performance, starting with her entrance. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7y1hBsXZ3sdNM1J5QhX2ZvAYDCLvcLtO53Kl7gYC1miQqLBgJmC-YoKxGLyf50cq0-w2gImz_XyouvNwk2yzD9YLxXHrP_lOrxxVjzWCWh9KkLMmqOhYUvwDi-m2LFh8gCOZpDrLYLA/s320/DSCN0424.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368889879293974082" /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This was the second time I've seen them and again, she is absolutely captivating. She is the epitome of lead singer. I am yet to see any one person in my life who holds a crowd like she does. Day 3 / Of Montreal recap / Weekend Awards to come in the third and final installment tomorrow. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Seanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05024400544544237581noreply@blogger.com0