league meet

After prelims on thrusday, we knew we were in pretty deep shit. Before any races started, we were seeded dead even with Stevenson. After prelims, not so much. They made up 60 points on us, which is alot of points. But somehow, miraculously, our two freshman divers placed first and fifth and both Stevenson divers were disqualified, probably for being douchebags, although I'm not positive. So if you're not so good at math, that means we're down by roughly 20 points; still shitty, but not so stinky.

I'll skip to the good part now, because I don't care what happens, four hours of swimming just isn't that interesting. The good part? The four hundred free relay.

This is the event that the whole meet came down to. In order to win, we needed to get first and Stevenson had to get fourth. So we're behind the block getting ready when Rich comes over and starts yelling at us to, "Control what you can control. Win this relay" and other extremely motivating, borderline dangerously loud gems. But he got the point across: don't be bitches. Bardsley led it off, and he did a solid job, although the kid from Northern, our main competition, pulled ahead of him by three strokes. So Nate Lunn dives in, does his thing, and makes up a little ground, but we're still behind by a bit. So I'm behind the block watching the race, trying no to listen to all the yelling, although its so loud you can't really make out words. I step up onto the block and watch the d-bag from Northern dive, ohh shit, I have to go now too. I dive in and sprint harder than I ever have before, believe me when I tell you, "I got that fo' sho". The last two lengths I just kept telling myself, "Just get it even, Brody will finish it". Well that's what I did, and spilt a :50.02 in the process. Ridiculously close to a :49 which would have been awesome, but I digress. Brody Blickle, a northville swimming god and definitely the best swimmer in the conference, dives in, and after three lengths of pretty even swimming, decides to destroy the kid in the other lane. I sincerely felt sorry for this kid. There was honestly no doubt in my mind that if I got it even, Brody would win, and we did win.

It was pretty cool, except for the whole loosing conference meet part. But there is definately something to be said for stepping up onto that lane 1 block and getting your medals in front of everybody watching the meet. Ohh, and our medals are 24 carat, gold. We ended up loosing the whole meet by 6 points, 560something to 570something. Which was quite a slap in the face, but we've been slapping the rest of the league around for three years, and next year will be no different. Word.

what's cooler that being cool?

ICE COLD: the lyrics of outkast resonate across Northville. Is it really that cold? Not so much, unless you're homeless. But for the lucky ones, the major problem has been driving around the backstreets. And Smashmouth, what's wrong with the backstreets is the ice. The shittyness of the roads really hit me on Sunday on our way to church, to church, mind you. We were as usuall running about 10 minutes late, and for some reason mom told me to drive in her car. Flying down Valencia at 27mph, we came about 50 yard before seven mile when the car decided to be a bitch and loose traction. As I desperately tried to aviod a Volvo sandwich with the cross traffic on seven mile I pumped the brakes, tried to cut the wheel any way, and finally tried to pull a Diehard and do one of those sweet 90 degree brake things. Well, I skidded into seven mile and as I hit the right lane skidded sideways and things were good. Mom barely even noticed, except for the part where I was like, "ohh shit, ohh shit, ohh shit, damnit I'm goin' to church!". Seriously God saved my life on that one.

On a lighter note, I was hanging out at one of my favorite families' houses, the Hagans, last night. Nothing too out of the ordinary. As usual, Mike decided not to shovel the driveway when it first snowed, so much like Valencia, there was about a 3 inch layer of solid ice on the driveway; the smooth kind. So after doing some mischeveious teenager stuff, we came back to Mike's house. I pulled into the driveway and immediately slipped all the way back down into the street. Mike and I looked at each other and without speaking we knew what had to be done. I backed up into the snowbank behind me, put it in first gear, and floored it. Fighting the whiplash, we hit the curb, heard something smack, and flew up the drive. I floored it the whole way, and we still got zero traction, but the Dragsteresque acceleration proved to be sufficient enough to barely push us over the hump, and into the spot beneath the b-ball hoop.

Not the same for Bardsley. Before telling this part, it must be known that Jonathan is British, and hence not assimilated to American driving. When he decided to leave the party for a movie with his 'other' friends, he naively tried to back out of the circle drive. After he leaves, Mike and I are hangin in the basement watching some Vietnam war thing when he gets a call. "It's Bardsley, he says he's dying out here". Immediately my swimming and lifeguarding instincts kicked in, and I ran to save a life. Jacket, shoes, and hat all seem to put themselves on as we break out of the front door and hear an engine reving. Full of disappointment, I walked out to see what Jon did and slipped and fell on my ass. Somehow Jon managed to t-bone himself with the driveway and was like a baby gazelle with a broken leg on the savanah; trying so hard but about to be eaten alive. Unless we helped him. Mike grabbed some old mats and threw then under the ford's front wheels. With a series of pushes we spun his car and set him on his way. What great friends we are.

It should also be noted that Mike's dog, Sadie, took a dump in the basement. It stunk. Word.

why I love cabelas

If you have never had the privelige of flipping through the pages of the Cabela's Master Fall or Master Spring catalogs, than you honestly have not lived. Whether you like the store, hate it, or have never heard of it, the things inside always bring some interest. For example, as I was cruising the pages of the spring cato. today, I came across this gem: the savage enforcer tactical 1081. This one really made me think for a while, mostly with this question: why would anyone need a pimped out pellet gun? Maybe it's just me, but I always thought pellet guns were for plinking cans out of you bedroom window, or at least that's what I did. And ya, I can see some chipmunk/small mammal hunting if they're getting into your birdfeeder and shit, but this is obnoxiously/barely legally pimped.
#1. A flashlight? are you really going to be shooting at shit in the dark? I don't have a degree or anything, but I can still recognize that that's a dumbass idea.

#2. A laser pointer? Why the hell do you need a laser pointer on a pellet gun? I mean shit, do you want to blind that squirell before you snipe it's head off?

#3. Bipod? This isn't "call of duty", you don't need to adjust for windage and elevation every time you line up a shot. Like I've said, its a damn pellet gun.

So ya, that's my beef with the common weapon of choice for many small mammal hunters. If any of you have seen "Rushmore" than you ought to recall that scene where the guys gets shot in the ear with the bb gun from the dorm window. That's exactly how I see this gun being used. Someone's really pissed off but can't afford a real gun, so they go to cabelas, sign up for a cabela's credit card to take $20 off the bill, and then take the gun home and go for the gold: a well placed ass shot. Word.

wait, what is this?

Last night as I pulled into the driveway after the meet last night I noticed something different, very different. Theresa, the foreign exchange student, was with me and I'm sure that gave her a great picture of America. Do all houses have St. Patrick's Day parafanalia along driveways? Hell no, and I'll be damned if mine does.

My mom was so confused that I'm quite sure she thinks Alfonso, the lawn/snowplow guy put them there in an effort to add some spring salsa to the dismal Michigan february that is kicking the shit out of optimism.

So I took a closer look today as I let the dogs out after again returning from another swim meet, and what I saw was horrifying.

Obviously this wasn't the work of Alfonso, cause this is some crazy shit. I mean who puts a gnome, mardi gras beads, silly string, and a rubber ducky on a mailbox? I mean this is "Silence of the Lambs" shit. What is also concerning is the lack of a theme. For example, it's not just toilet paper, eggs, or anything like that. Not even like a Halloween punking. This job combined St. Patrick's Day, Mardi Gras, rubber birds, and mythical creatures. Who would do this? Much like with science, the more information I get the more questions I have. More questions caused by this:
I mean I think it says Clay, but the 'writing' goes on further than the photo shows and there doesn't seem to be a 'y'. So more questions, which leaves me with a grand total of a shitload of questions, many of which I assume will go unanwsered. I mean who uses light green silly string on snow? This appears to be a thoroughly mediocre job. Not to metion that the price tag on each of the 12 lawn ornaments was 2.50, plus a gnome, plus a rubber duckie which makes for an expensive outing. I seriously have no idea what I have done to deserve this, and the possible perps list is nonexistant. Like I said, this is some crazy shit. Word.

honor and courage

For two full years the students of northville high school have been under the opression of Mr. Monty Shambleau, the assistant principle. Over the course of this school year, his opression has been considerably more shitty, as exemplified today at lunch.

We were just sitting at our table at lunch, being loud and obnoxious as usual when we noticed shambleau patrolling the cafeteria. Nothing too out of the ordinary here, although self defense club teacher Mr. LaDuke was also there, in addition to Office McKenzie, so obviously we weren't gonna start a fight today. So as we joked around with Eric about his various dancing partners at a party last weekend, he got a little upset and proceeded to awe us with his b-ball skills. Ever since Eric made varsity he has felt it necessary to shoot his food into the trash can instead of pulling a swimmer get-up-and-throw-your-tray-away-move. He's got game though, so it's okay. Anyways, as we all cheered him on and applauded every shot, everyone began to turn around and watch the phenom drain grapes into the can from a solid fifteen to twenty feet away. Like an old hawk, shambleau came speed walking to the scene of this innoscent crime.

In a constipated and frustrated tone, he says, "Hey! How bout you stop that!"

Eric replies, "But I'm money!" The rest of us all start laughing and I try to cover myself by fake coughing into my sweatshirt.

"Do you want to be money cleaning up the cafeteria afterwards?"

"No."

With that shambleau left. A moral victory for students everywhere. Way to go Eric, you can drain grapes or any other kind of small fruit over me any day. Word.

gotcha!

Tonight around 8:00 I looked at facebook and saw a friend request from "Walter Camel". Shit no. I wasn't gonna let this one go. If you care to read below how I verbally destroyed this novier, go for it. Just read from the bottom up. The conclusions I made are utterly...incredible. Let's rock this bitch.


Clay Malloure wroteat 8:21pm
the only part that sounds irrational to me is the vietnam part. Maybe you already know this, but a c.n. ex POW would not be kind to the Vietcong, just look at John McCain. He takes no prisoners when it comes to war, no pun intended. After years in a vietnamese prison cell, c.n. would become discontent and frustrated with all the vietnamese, especially the children. This would lead him to break out, again begin fighting for the US of A, and then become addicted to opium as were many soldiers. The only thing rational for him to do after such a campaing is something out of the spotlight and self fufilling, hmmmm, like a doge ball board director
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Walter Camel (Detroit, MI) wroteat 8:16pm
not if one chuck norris is a texas ranger and the other is going to vietnam to rescue kids for no good reason at all. he has two distinct personalities. ones a bad ass from texas and the other is an ex POW from nam. there are also whispers about him being on the board of directors for the international dodge ball league... now thats mighty irrational!
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Clay Malloure wroteat 8:07pm
while you do raise a good point about packs, we are the mustangS, ie, plural, ie, herd, ie, stampede, ie, "oh shit, it's a stampede!". And a pack of Chuck Norrises, while again irrational, would join with the original chuck norris to become even more powerful. I mean you don't fight fire with fire, duh.
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Walter Camel (Detroit, MI) wroteat 8:03pm
touche. and no we dont have a kid named walter on the team. and your point about packs of animals is true. thats exactly why you should be the horses or some shit like that so you could be a pack too. however a pack of ants could not kill chuck norris. only a pack of chuck norris's could kill chuck norris.
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Clay Malloure wroteat 7:59pm
dude, you have a kid named walter on your team? how embarrassing. anyways, a pack of anything could take out a single something, ex. killer ants v. rambo. while a camel mascot is irrational, we don't really give a shit. Mustangs aren't in northville, that's irrational too. Also high schoolers shoving pom pons up his ass is irrational too. it's just the way it goes.
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Walter Camel (Detroit, MI) wroteat 7:55pm
true. but the whole idea of adopting a camel as your mascot is also irrational (whos idea was that? mark stuber told me once but i forget). and although its unlikely for a mustang to meet a pack of wildcats... they would definately win in a fight. and walter begged us to shove stuff up his ass.
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Clay Malloure wroteat 7:52pm
well, once again, I'm not trying to be a jerk, but that's totally irrational. A mustang would never meet a lion, jaguar, cheetah, or whatever other animals you listed in the wild, so you're whole point is plain uninformed. And just to point out, you're the ones who shoved shit up walter's various holes which, maybe this is just me, but that sounds in and of itself extremely homosexual. But whatever
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Walter Camel (Detroit, MI) wroteat 7:36pm
you might be right except that our school mascot is every kind of wildcat in the world. i dont think a mustang or a camel could stand up to a tiger, lion, cheetah, jaguar, etc. all at once.
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Clay Malloure wroteat 6:45pm
bro, i'm not here to bicker, but everyone knows that a swift mustang kick properly landed (and that means essentially anywhere) is more than enough to knock a wildcat or any other feline into the after life, regardless of how many damn lives it has.

global warming? have you been outside?

If you don't live in metro detroit there's one thing you need to know: it's cold as balls outside. Sunday was incredibly shitty seeing as how there was a -27 degree windchill and I was quite sure saturday night that my windows were going to blow in leaving me totally defenseless against the hypotheria after 30 seconds outside enducing winds. Luckily the house, much like Minas Tirith, held strong throughout the night and on the seventh day the sunshine of Gandalf the White came over the horizon and made it less miserable. I apologize to anyone who didn't get the LOTR reference.

But I digress, like usual. The point is global warming, while totally backed up by science, is bullshit because its so damn cold outside. "Global Warming" is a direct contradiction if its gonna be this cold, at least before the ensuing ice age is induced by increased greenhouse gas effects which lead to changing of ocean currents. In MRN we were told that the weather was being caused by El Nino. For all of you non spanish speakers out there, El Nino directly translated means "the Christ child". Now I'm not scientist, but it appears that the weather that will kill countless due to cold and has already killed 60 in the South after those tornados was caused by the christ child; a.k.a. God.

Now I realize I haven't been to church in a while and that's totally my fault for being lazy, but c'mon God, -25 degrees is not a great way to motivate people to go and worship, especially when I had a shitload of euro. notes to take. So if you take nothing else out of this, just know that El Nino can go to hell, because it's keeping people from going to church. Word.