Trouble in the Terraces of my mind

hey...me writing here is a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy...

Sunday, June 22, 2008

I just got in from seeing “You Do Not Mess With the Zohan”. It was your typical Adam Sandler movie, so to me it was a great film. It was really crude, and had more Jewish/Arab jokes in it that even I was going “damn he went there, if I said that I'd be called racist”. It had the usual cameos you'd expect from Adam Sandler's group of fans, and they were used right. I liked this movie, but it still doesn't top “Happy Gilmore” or “The Waterboy”. Adding to the overall nice movie experience was that the rain didn't stay too long (more of a flash storm-type thing), and the company I was with at the movie, hopefully agrees that the movie experience was nice as well (better-I did pay for it!!).

Ok, now onto a repeating subject/theme of this blog: If I was given the option of having a nice job with good pay but had to live in Jersey, or having parts of me kicked over and over again with a boot with a nail on the end, I would stand up and say give me your best kicks. Seriously, there's a reason Jersey is called the “armpit” of the nation, and the more and more I am forced to go there the rage for most of the people there grows. Put it this way, Three pro teams in the state doesn't want to affiliate with Jersey and still call themselves “New York”. This time, the jackasses at Giants Stadium overbooked the complex, so whatever parking lot my group was supposed to meet up in was either closed or being used for some dogshit event. They had the “Jersey State fair”, a concert at the arena, and their flea market-of in Jersey terms, designer boutiques-and the soccer game that night. I had to wait with some friends for the flea market to clean up, and after the lot was cleaned, had to wait another half hour before the jerkoffs finally opened it up. They said they had to wait for the call to open it-mind you the line of cars waiting to get in was clogging up the road and causing a safety hazard, not like these pigs new anything about safety or even hygiene). Seriously, why does it feel like Iqs drop like a rock when people move into the state.

On the bright side, I wasn't the only one suffering. My cousin had to be in Jersey as well. But he had to go to the even trashier part of that fine state, Central Jersey. His in-laws were down there, and all he had to look around at their place were-this may shock some-shopping centers, Wawas, and just human trash that act like they contribute to society. That at least gave me some peace.

I almost didn't go to the game, that's how pissed I was about the stadium and their shittiness. i was told of some friends who were going to hang out and drink that night in a bar, and i really had to think about if i wanted to drive back. I will say this, I speed and just rocket back to the city and try to minimize my stay in the state. At least the stadium is in the middle of nowhere, so my interaction with the locals is minimal. The new place in a year or so will be all trains for me, so interaction may be even less beyond “hey get me a beer and some food” at one of the restaurants by the stadium.

One more thought; who has a bigger hardon than Jack White after hearing the crowds at Euro 2008 doing “Seven Nation Army” every game. It's a cool song that's stuck in my head. I remember doing that with the ESC, but we sang the words “fuck, DC United” to it, not just go “bom, bom bom, bom bom bom”, but it does make a cool sound in the stadiums. Also it's just awesome seeing the supporters sections at these games, especially the wall of orange when the dutch played. Soccer and HDTV go well together.

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