Friday, March 28, 2008

Nationals Fans are Retarded

First of all, this has nothing to do with 99thingsbefore30, but I'm posting it because it's important. Anyway, I'm a huge Washington Nationals fan and religiously follow them for better or worse. Opening Day is around the corner and yet another season of misery is upon us. However, there is hope, as the Nats are opening a brand-spankin' new stadium on Sunday. I regularly get e-mails about the Nationals, which mainly try to coax me into buying season tickets. I typically ignore them because for one thing, I don't live in DC for half of the season and I'm a poor college student.

But there was one e-mail that I got today that stuck out in my mind for some reason. The Nationals had their "fans" pick some of the music that the stadium will be playing this season, and one of the selections that the Nationals are playing makes me throw my hands up in confusion as if the people who cheer for my team have Down Syndrome or something of that sort. You see, as the "Victory Song" for the Nats, they chose "Beautiful Day" by U2, over "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang. When I saw this, I immediately thought, "what the fuck?"


Picking U2 over Kool and the Gang is a crime in itself. Don't get me wrong, U2 is a great band and all, but its just so typical of DC people to choose that song. They probably have the idea of picking the safe song that Gen X parents and their kids can bob their heads to on the way out of Nationals Park. It just seems like such a "hippie song" because they mainly play on the hippie station at home and gives you the impression that "yeah, we beat you, but its cool because we're going to drive our hybrids and drink Starbucks." Is that what I want the Washington Nationals to be about this season? FUCK NO. We're going to be the baddest team in baseball with the likes of Dimitri Young, Lastings Milledge and Elijah "You Dead Dawg" Dukes. When we win, we need to shove in people's faces and kick dirt on them. Hence, "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang.

Every time I hear that song come on, I always feel like I'm a winner. I proceed to dance around if no one is watching and make myself to be such an embarrassment. I spend the whole song, in a sense, "celebrating", because that's what the song is all about. All that's what we need as Nats fans this season. Face it, we fucking suck and we need all of the good times that we're going to get from our team. Part of that is listening to "Celebration." We're going to have only 60 wins this season, so we should make each one a fucking celebration, bitches! Plus, how can you resist this:

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

#19: Teach a College Course

Throughout my years of education, I've always hated teachers. Not just hated, but despised, distrusted, and any other negative word that you could think of. I've just never been a fan of them. There have been many instances which have reinforced this notion in my head, from the times when a history teacher in high school wanted to fail my final exam because I used the term "w/" instead of "with" to even today where I hate my Philosophy professor for being a stupid bitch with her quizzes. Regardless of the sour experiences I've had with teachers, I never thought I would actually want to join the dark side and become one of them.

That was until last year when my school made an error in the paperwork and let me, of all people, teach University 101, a class designed to help freshmen adjust to college. Shocking, I know, considering my most famous moments at college have been falling out of a closet while drunk and telling a girl that I wanted to eat her breasts. Anyway, I was a Peer Leader for the semester, which is like a TA, but I don't exchange sexual favors in return for higher grades. And the thing is that I like teaching so much, that I wanted to do it again.

my one shining moment.

So after three months of waiting after I sent my application in, I finally was accepted to return to teach for the Fall. The reason I bring this up, is because I find fascinatingly hilarious how students team up with instructors to create their teaching teams. Not that I know anything about this subject but this situation would make me think of swinger party in a creepy, non-sexual way. So here I am, battered and bruised after my past instructors have left me for other, more "attractive" options. So I walk into this mixer last night and I seemed to just whore myself out to other instructors, almost as if I was saying, "COME AND FUCK ME, I'LL LOVE YOU LONG TIME." When I had to talk about myself, it seemed like I kept saying "I HAVE A 3.96 GPA COME AND PLAY WITH MY BALLS!" It was all about trying to put my best foot forward, and apparently my GPA and my balls are my two most important features. So, when I kept asking general questions to all of the instructors there, but every question about teaching style sounded like "IS YOUR PUSSY BIG ENOUGH TO FIT MY EXTRAORDINARILY LARGE MANMEAT? CAN YOU HANDLE THIS HEAT I'M PACKIN' BITCH?" It just seemed like I was whoring myself out to people and I was unashamed to do so.

I was getting with everyone and everyone was getting with me. Even the grad assistant who taught my peer leader class last semester was giving the "I want to fuck you*, but it'd be cool if you didn't have any other options and become my second instructor" look. After whoring myself out to some 20-odd instructors, I was able to find someone TO SUCK MY DICK I mean, an instructor to be a part of my teaching team. We'll see what happens.

* - I fucking wish.

Friday, March 21, 2008

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the Earth. Yet.

It's been nearly two weeks since I've last posted here on 99thingsbefore30, so I figured I would just update my loyal following of three readers that I am still alive. I haven't had the time to post on here recently, because 1) I'm really busy, 2) I'm really busy, and 3) I don't want to write about school on here, which is about all I've done in the past two weeks. I mean, when you're studying statements of cash flows and power among states in politics, there's not a whole lot to write home about. Plus, I haven't done anything real significant in regards to the list, so there's no real point of writing unless I wanted to be like an emo loser who overanalyzes the hand gestures of a girl I was into. But since I am not, that possibility is incredibly foolish and unlikely.

Anyway, hopefully when stuff slows down here at school, maybe I'll post again. Maybe.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

#46: Be Friends With My Ex

And out of the 99 things that are here on my list, I think that this is the hardest one that I'll have to do. This isn't on me, it's more on her. That other person in this whole relationship, friendship, etc. Yes, I did actually have a very serious girlfriend at one point in my life, and while those days are long gone, I would like to become friends with her again. And maybe this will explain to her why I really haven't gotten back to her in the last 8 months.

So here's the story behind this whole thing. I dated this girl for a year and half. She was incredible, probably one the nicest and most attractive women that I've ever seen in my life. She was a great girlfriend, the type that would go that extra mile for you and do anything to brighten your day. The thing about her was that she was different from any other girl I had been with or any of my friends. She hated sports. She refused to watch them and could not understand why I would get so happy watching men sweat all over each other. She was also a vegetarian, which was unique because I for one, loved meat and could not imagine ever living without it. She was just really different and she was like a puzzle that I could never figure out. There always seemed to be something new that she brought into the fold that would always spice things up.

But the thing about her was that she was way too different for friends and that just killed me. She was very shy and reserved around others and any interaction that my friends would have with her would always turn out awkward and weird. It really sucked for me because I wanted to show everyone how great of a person my girlfriend was, but I just couldn't. And then things began to pile up, starting with big events like Virginia Tech and down to little things about I didn't want to hang out with her after work or why I didn't want to go to see fireworks with her. These stupid arguments that no couple should ever have began tearing our relationship apart. The little things that I loved about her earlier in the relationship eventually caught up with me.
What I used to love about her was now what I just couldn't stand. I know there's nothing I could have done about it, but it was just those small little things that bugged me and made things worse. And it wasn't helping my internship at all as our little struggles were really affecting my performance at work.

Basically, I was tired of figuring out the puzzle that was known as her. I gave up. I told her that I wanted a break, just some time off because I needed to focus on work and not her. I was just sick of her for the time being not forever. I was tired. Tired of fighting with her. Almost every conversation turned into an argument. I just needed some time for me and just to focus on my life and what I wanted to do. I was 19 years old and I wanted to live my life before settling down with someone. She didn't take the news too well and left me with a letter tell me her last words. I haven't responded back so consider this as my reply.

We both said that we wanted to be friends, but it never worked out that way. A few jokes or animosity over a couple of drinks towards her on my part may have had something to do with it. Or maybe it was the drunk call back in September when I told her that I was still in love with her. I don't know or why that ever came about, but it should have never happened. Or maybe it about how each time we talk, its incredibly awkward to talk without mentioning our relationship. Either way, no matter what you can attribute it to, she and I don't talk anymore.

I want to fix that. I want to be friends with her again. Forget all the bad blood, it's time to start over and make amends. No, this isn't a trick to get her in my pants again, it's just hard to hold back two years' worth of memories. But my task is huge, how do I become friends with someone who I was physically attracted to for years. It may seem impossible, but I'm up to the challenge.

I know you're reading this, what are you waiting for?

#32 Win a Fantasy Football Championship

First of all, I understand it's not football season. It's March and football won't even begin for another five months. But here at 99thingsbefore30, it's always football season. Football in the summer, football in the winter, football all the time. Anyway, as the title of this post suggests, one of my goals before I reach the age of 30 is to win a fantasy football championship. This isn't just any fantasy football championship where I join a random league on Yahoo and take my team to the top. It's not that simple. This is for all the marbles. This is the only league that matters and the only championship that ever matters, the one where I wasted many weekend afternoon and nights painstakingly watching football games that I do not give a shit about. This is about winning the fantasy football league that I have with my friends at school.

Yeah, winning a fantasy football championship, easy task. No way, not so fast. It's not that easy. It's not easy when you have 9 other guys against you who are all staking their claim to being the best in the league. Like Newton said, every action has a reaction. In this league, that's always the case, as every game-winning touchdown depicts an image where you have one person celebrating with excessive joy, while his opponent is crushed by a figurative blow to his hopes of winning. It's like this every week, every Sunday and Monday when dreams go to die and hope rarely spring eternal. It's very interesting to watch how 10 grown men can react so feverishly to events that bear little significance on the rest of their lives, but unbearable to experience.

You see, my friends and I have been involved in this 10-team league for the past two years. And I have not won in either of these two years. Instead, my friend Danny has unfortunately taken the prize in BOTH FREAKING years. I congratulate him on a job well done but it is time for him to be dethroned from his championship reign. With that being said, I plan to win it all next year. If not, then the year after next. And if that doesn't happen yet again, then I will win by the time I turn 30 fo sho.

Friday, March 7, 2008

#64: Learn a Dance (part II)

As you may have read in previous entries, I'm taking a shagging class this semester in a futile attempt to learn how to dance. After the many instances in which I have thoroughly embarassed myself at proms, semi-formals, and other organized dances, I figured that learning how to dance may be of great use before my friends get married and see this atrocious act. Taking shagging may have been the worst sober decision that I have made at school and I regret it every Monday night. (Yes, I have made so many drunk decisions while in college that will eventually be told at some point.)

So when I signed up for the class, I thought that I was going to dick around for the two hour classes, meet some girls, and hopefully learn some sweet dance moves. However, the lack of coordination that has led me to become such a bad dancer in the first place is the main reason as to why I fucking blow at shagging. Case in point: We had to dance with partners in front of the whole class last week. Each girl had to pick a guy to dance with and they would dance to a random song that the instructor would select. Of course, all of the attractive girls who knew how to dance picked the guys who could shimmy, shake, and all that jazz. Girl after girl kept passing on me for these fucking tools who could dance until the girl who dressed and danced like my dead grandmother ended up with this dance machine. Dancing with her is not that bad, except for the fact that she sways her head to the rhythm like she’s a fucking pendulum, and she counts the beats out loud while the song is playing. SHUT THE FUCK UP WOMAN. No one else is counting the beats and neither should you. but she has two left feet.

Another thing that I learned from taking this is class is that I have to make my public shagging debut in downtown Columbia at the end of April. Oh shit. I'm fucking terrified of the notion of people who shag watch me dance horribly and I have this recurring thought that I'm really going to fuck this thing up in front of everyone. So yeah, if you want to see me make a complete fool of myself, then come to this debut. It will be so awesome to the point that you don't even know.

Despite my bad dancing and ugly shag partners, the best part of shagging is the ELECTRIC SLIDE. The ELECTRIC SLIDE IS THE BALLS FOR THOSE WHO ARE NOT AWARE OF ITS SHEER GREATNESS. Every pool party in my childhood was always capped off with parents and kids doing the boogie-woogie-woogie-woo on the dancefloor. So when something as awesome as the Electric Slide comes on, I can't help but to let loose and get busy on the dancefloor.Last week during class, I learned that shag clubs actually play the Electric Slide, so I convinced my instructor to let us do the Electric Slide in class. To say the least, it was ballin'. If my debut consists of doing the Electric Slide, then it could quite possibly be the best thing ever. Here's to wishful thinking.

Thursday, March 6, 2008


Sorry for the lack of updates folks. I've been really busy with school and this thing called life, so updates have been few and far between in the past two weeks. That will change, hopefully, as I'm about to commence Spring Break in t-minus 24 hours. So bear with me here. I know you're dying to read about the latest chapter in my life, but you're going to have to wait. Remember, patience is a virtue. My mom used to always say that and now I always find myself saying it. Anyway, expect a post sometime soon. It will be good, I promise.

Sunday, March 2, 2008


After being in college for three years, I'm thoroughly convinced that nearly college male is a complete douchebag.

More on that later.