Everything is wrong with me
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
four afternoon notes
Today is probably the most gorgeous day in New York City since the spring. The sun is shining, and cool breeze is blowing, the Midwestern tourists are out sporting their best acid-wash jeans, and of course I am sweating.

I think the "powers-that-be" in my office decided that since the thermometer outside is just under 80 degrees and it's so nice, it needs to be just under 80 degrees in here to achieve the same level of nice-ness.

The result: if anyone has an extra button-down shirt, please bring it to my office, because the one I'm wearing now is covered in sweat and Doritos. Size XL.

Ok, size XXL.



I don't mean to go all "Seinfeld" on you guys, but do they make band-aids for black people? They have to, right? How come I've never seen them? You'd think that in this day and age there would be more colors to band-aids than just the current "Italian-American in Early Summer White."


Erick Dampier just signed a seven-year, $73 million contract with the Dallas Mavericks.

I don't want to turn this into an Erick Dampier-bashing site, but are you fucking kidding me? $73 million for career averages of 9 points and 7 rebounds per game?

If you think about it, if I were an NBA player, I think with enough minutes I could average maybe a point per game (from the free throw line) and possibly 2 rebounds.

If we crunch some numbers taking Dampier's $73M and 9 points + 7 rebounds, and take my 1 point + 2 rebounds, according to the Mavs, I'd be worth about $13.68 million over 7 years. Just a slight increase from what I'm making now.

Hey, Erick and the Mavs: Allan Houston. Austin Croshere. Mike Hampton. Mo Vaughn. Adonal Foyle. De te fabula narratur.


It's come to my attention that I'm having some email problems. Apparently, when I hit "send", my emails are disappearing into cyber space and not reaching their intended recipients. I respond to 95% of the emails I get, the remaining 5% either not requiring a response or from douchebags. So, if you sent me an email that required a response and you're not a douchebag, then know that I sent you a reply, but it got lost. Mea culpa maxima.

If you're not sure whether or not you qualify as a douchebag, an example is an email I got recently in which the reader quotes himself, a major dealbreaker for me. After writing something about the blog, he writes:

"One day the world will look back at me and know that I created the 21st century." - Douchebag's name

That, my friends, is the perfect example of a douchebag.

[Wow - two Latin phrases in this post? Dr. Bender and Ms. Adkins would be so proud.]

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