Blame Canada - Alec Kerr

Sorry for the lack of posts this week. Like many of you I spent my time relentlessly searching for adderall and getting sympathy from my family thinking I was living at the library. Finally, so Alex “Whitey” Miller will stop bitching here it is…..

There are a few questions people will ask throughout time, and most will go unanswered, like: Why for 6 months of my high school career did I climb out of the sunroof of my car to get out instead of using the door? Why is this guy so awesome? Why do people laugh at me when I ride my Razor scooter to class? And why are Ruff, Reggie, Van Dyke, and myself so patriotic? (on a scale of 1 to Larry the cable guy we are more American than this girl by the way) Maybe because America has so much to love, Seinfeld was “about nothing” and became one of TV’s greatest shows. Fantasy sports, only in America can watching your favorite players turn into an obsession and make you hate Larry Johnson because he had to spit in the drink of that lady in 08’, get suspended 4 games, and cost me 20 dollars. COPS, possibly the greatest show ever, it will never get old, and if you watch in the coming years you might see Wil Van Dyke. Most importantly it is easy to love America because of our dominance in the Olympics.

As Ruff was in Indy making out with the girl who went stag to prom and still has braces, Reggie and I spent most of our time starting U-S-A chants, watching America control the medal scene, and making fun of the lame events. First off Luge and Skeleton, as far as I’m concerned are the same thing, and make me feel like I could be an Olympic athlete. Although those would be the last events I would compete in because the Skeleton is the gay man's Luge. Luge, on the other hand, is also the gay man's Luge. Curling has practically won over everyone’s heart, watching it makes me want to start my own team, especially when I saw they get a bigger crowd than Stavros Flately. (I found myself becoming a secret Denmark curling fan after I saw their hot curlers that reminded me of Becky “Icebox” O’shea, sure they are a little manly but I’m sure they clean up nice.)

The main event of the Olympics had to be the U.S. vs. Canada hockey game. I can’t decide what is less American, Reggie almost sleeping through the game, no one on my floor joining in on my U-S-A chants, or no one on my floor wanting to body paint an American flag on me (I may possibly live on the least patriotic floor at IU, which is sad but alright because I make up for it). The first period was akward since I don’t usually watch hockey I had the “you’re pretty far away, I’m not sure if I should hold the door, but I’ll feel like an ass if I don’t” feeling until I got into it. As I can assume many of us were watching the game, so there is no need for recollection (unless you live on Delgado ground floor, since none of you communism loving bastards watched it). Plain and simple Sidney Crosby is the devil spawn. I’m not sure how many true fans of Sidney Crosby there are out there, but in my eyes he is public enemy #1. Since he plays in the NHL I feel like the only solution is the opposing team should check him into the board on any chance they have, hit him with the stick at least once a game, and face guard him the whole game, ultimately ruining his career and making everyone realize America cannot be fucked with. And to Canada, honestly you can have the gold, at least we have a summer. If you want to brag about this win for the next 4 years go ahead, we took you to overtime in the sport you created. If your “football” league wants to take on the NFL, I’m sure you’ll see me front row hitting a Sidney Crosby piñata, drinking a beer, wearing this, and checking my phone to make sure Danica Patrick didn’t break the top 20 in the NASCAR race.

Many people have been asking me “Alec with your rising consideration for America, what’s your next step?” It’s a toss up right now. Sure I might end up on Tool Academy or Real World where I’m the unanimously hated douche that everyone wants out, but after some soul searching I change my ways, make amends, and win the hearts of millions. Followed by some rough years of partying, contracting STD’s, and having a sex tape get “leaked” which sparks my down fall. No one wants to see a washed up party animal, so luckily I get invited to be on the new installation of Surreal Life, get myself clean, and become America’s sweetheart again. I’ll be ending my career as the host of Survivor: Brooklyn, also known as Cracker Hunt, where 20 racist white people are placed in the heart of Brooklyn and compete in challenges for cash and immunity, letting contestants vote off other tribe members until one remains and becomes the “Soul Survivor”.

Another scenario is me getting the most patriotic job there is, the President of the United States. Now after the 0.0 my chances are unlikely but I’m sure I can manipulate some people in our government, sell the prized pokemon edition N64, or seduce several high ranking women to get myself in the cabinet. Naturally, it wouldn’t take me long to get rid of a lot of problems, as my first act I would rid of crime in this easy process. The Olsen twins, obviously great actors, cause me to watch countless hours of Full House and made Switching Goals one of my top 5 movies, after watching it last week. What does this have to do with anything? Well if you take these acting prodigies and put them on CSI, it will undoubtedly be the most watched show on TV. If you haven’t seen CSI lately, after watching it you won’t ever want to commit a crime, since they successfully find every culprit in a timely fashion, thus ridding of crime across the country.

Although most likely I’ll end up living in the trailer park much like my heroes Julian, Ricky, and Bubbles off of Trailer Park boys (the only good thing to come out of Canada). I’ll spend my days playing Golden Eye on 64, thinking of ridiculous get rich quick schemes, and waiting for the day Brett or Ted make the NFL and I can live in their basement playing Madden 18 hours out of the day. Making it to the Madden Challenge would be the obvious outcome, finally making something out of myself after the long road to success.

Several questions have been answered today and I only have an answer for one more. I’m sure in 20 years you’ll be asking yourself 1 of 3. Why the hell is there a 33^rd year of survivor and why is this tool hosting it? Why would they let this idiot have a say in our government? Or why is this worthless dude digging in my trash? Well just know it all started when Canada beat the United States in Hockey back in 2010, so don’t blame me, blame Canada.

Coming soon: Premature E-Shaqulators results in the intramural tournament. After two games I haven’t blogged about we remain undefeated, yet we are no longer in the tournament, and Pat Kennedy was ejected from a game and will not be hooking up with the HYPER worker that threw him out. Just a preview of the blog to come.

"Sure I've been called a xenophobe,but the truth is I'm not. I honestly just feel that America is the best country and all the other countries aren't as good. That used to be called patriotism."

Update

Sorry I haven't been able to get up a new post lately. I should have a new one up by the end of the week.

But just case you’ve been wondering. (which you probably haven't) I found out what Matthew Ruffing has been up to lately. LINK

God Bless America more than any other country.
Jordan "Reggie" Kiel

Premature E-Shaqulators - Alec Kerr

I’m sure all of you have been patiently awaiting the results from Thursday night’s intramural tournament opener (actually you probably could care less than when Kentucky Kingdom closed), but for those of you in agony, wait no longer. As I stated in my last post our team (whose name I’m yet to learn, maybe it is because I choose not to and frankly I don’t care since it isn’t the “Premature E-Shaqulators” that I wanted, but as far as I’m concerned that’s what it is) was up against an 0-3 squad.

The chances of us losing were a lot worse than the chances of Wil Van Dyke getting a girl pregnant just by staring at her, which may or may not actually be possible from WVD. With my knowledge of terrible teams in intramurals I thought it would be a typical game where we could possibly win with 4 players, I could make every pass a behind the back pass for the whole game, and pull NBA range trey pounders multiple times. Come to find out this isn’t your average 0-3 team. Naturally, undaunted by their record we chose not to stretch or warm up, this is where went wrong (obviously for me, my favorite part of the game is making it rain in warm ups, dating back to high school when even though we went 26-1 my junior year, I’m still convinced the 4,000 fans at every game were there to see me drain 3’s, and do my signature pro hops and spins resulting in missed finger rolls before the game started).

Their main threat was a 5’8” point guard who had such a cool beard even Grizzly Adams would be jealous, he claims he didn’t play basketball in high school and that he was a “soccer player” which was a blatant lie. Since we hadn’t shot around yet, I felt the first play of the game would be the perfect opportunity to show off my silky smooth jumper. I came down the court and yelled “computer blue” which is not a play whatsoever, we don’t even have plays, yet it distracted my defender just enough to do a fade away 3 that missed, barely touched the rim, and resulted in an easy basket for the other team. As the other team took an early lead and we called a timeout because I was “dyin” out there, I continued to say “yo, I haven’t eaten all day” and “told you we should’ve warmed up."

Luckily Pat and “tall kid” took up the slack and started hitting some shots, as we took a 10 point lead. We started playing our game, this when “the block” happened, as Moses drove down the lane and tried to put up a floater, I had a Dikembe Mutombo like block that sent it back a good 5 feet, easily becoming one of the better defensive moments of my basketball career. Of course not stretching took me out of my mindset of being a lock down defender late into the first half as I got tired and my man started knocking down some 3’s. Pat said “is that your man?”, of course that’s my man, that’s like saying “watch my stuff I’ll be right back”, no shit I’m going to watch your stuff, who wouldn’t say something if some random person came and grabbed your backpack, so what if I’m too lazy and my man single handedly brought their team within 1 before halftime? Long story short the second half was much like the first until the last minute, when things got juicy.

With about 20 seconds left we threw up an ill advised attempt at a game winner with the score tied at 55, the beard wielding soccer player got the rebound and threw a full court pass to his teammate where I tried to block his lay up for the last second shot, I obviously fouled him and he missed the shot with a no call from the ref. Now this could be because he feels bad for not calling a foul earlier in the game when I was cracked in the nose and had no idea where I was at for about 10 possesions or it could be because the fact that we share the same love for Kirk Cameron in Growing Pains (with Kirk Cameron and Jeremy Miller as “Ben”, who couldn’t love that comedic duo?) I’m not sure what it was but that reluctantly took us into overtime.

Overtime we basically just took over, sure it was highlighted by my jumper with about a minute left to put us up 4, but I wouldn’t take all the credit. I’d like to think I was a real contributer after I said “all day” when I hit that jumper, but with a stat line like 6 points, 2-15 from the field, 3 turnovers, 1 assist, and giving up 15 points it was anything but that and I hurt the Premature E-Shaqulators if anything, so I’d like to think I was more of an intimidation factor. Nevertheless we got the W and moved one game closer to the championship (and thank God we won, Pat, considering the thought of overtime was making me feel like the HYPER was going to turn into a scene of a bad Okwerdz rap battle). I would also like to commend Terrell on a great game, he made up for Wil Van Dyke's absence and then some, which I miserably failed at doing at Delts later that night (grinding on every bitty at the party, making a huge scene, and waking up in the formal with just compression shorts on is harder than it looks).

"Sure I've been called a xenophobe,but the truth is I'm not. I honestly just feel that America is the best country and all the other countries aren't as good. That used to be called patriotism."

The Real Turk - Matthew Ruffing

"A Few Good Moments with Matthew Ruffing" will return next week as regularly scheduled, we decided to do more posts on the reg this week, to preview some of the awesome shit to come.

Coming off a three week binge of doing nothing every day and the fact that I quit my job, I no longer have any cheddar. Becoming sober for the past few days has been more painful than sitting in a room with Kiel for an extended period of time, but this time of sobriety has brought me to reflect on some of our hot, curvy and sexy country’s news and controversies.
After laying in bed completely inebriated on vicodin for two days I was forced to watch the Tiger Wood’s speech dominate the entire ESPN network (I was too faded to find the remote for multiple hours). I have only one question about it, why the fuck is he apologizing to the general public for his completely human and relatively American love for having absurd amounts of sex? What he does at night, in his own time, should only be the concern of him, his wife, and his family. People are putting their money on whether or not he bends the 92 other golfers over at TPC, not who he bends over in the hotel room later that night. The only shaft of Tiger’s we need to pay attention to is that of his 7 iron that he just bent after hooking his second shot into the woods back on 13. I’m not saying that Tiger was entitled to do what he did, in fact, I don’t respect him as much anymore (you can’t be a prick on the course, hold your child after winning another title, and then hit up 6 or 7 bitties later that week and still deserve respect) but its not our business to persecute the man for loving his dick more than his wife.

Don’t get used to this kind of bullshit I only did it to pay respects to Frank Therber, the college king of talking legitimate sports news, who now may have a larger erection than Tiger Woods. I respect you thurbs, stop smiling and get me on a beer die table.

On another note I’d like to clear up any questions you may have about the animosity between Reggie and I, I’m cooler than Reggie. Plain and simple. Reggie and I don’t know each other that well..maybe it’s because he was never around last semester.. on the second or third run to the liquor store every night we’d always ask “Where’s Reggie?” “Why isn’t he getting blacked out and breaking shit with us?” “is he sucking his uncle’s dick again?” No, actually he hates his uncle which I can only respect. But Reggie was making his regular trip back to his hometown, sadly all he wanted was some nan, and the only place he could it get was from the guys at his old high school. I’m also cooler than Reggie because I know cooler people than he does, like the University of Notre Dame 2009 football recruiting class.

Yes, its true I know some of those guys, only because one of my best friends Zack Martin is a part of it and brought some of his buddies down to Indianapolis for a night to share in our common American love for unprotected and unplanned sex, outrageous kegstands, and of course, Notre Dame. Zack brought along a goofy but monstrous defensive tackle who got bro-raped more than any of the other guests, a teddy bear lookin offensive lineman, the strongest, and blackest white punter the NCAA has ever seen, and a legitimate guido linebacker who may or may not have had sex with the mother of the house we took over and a skinny tall dude who knows more about Notre Dame than the President of the school. The night started early for the stars, polishing off an entire handle of Beam (completely unfazed them) before they even left for the party. Once they arrived, they immediately went to the keg for some kegstands that went longer than.. well if I had held my breath for the duration of a single stand I would’ve passed out. Towards the end of the kegstand session, every person in the place, which was about 95 at this point, was hammered and chanting for the meatheads to keep going when the thugged out punter spilled some of his beer on the biggest meatstick , a UIndy 2 sport all-star. Who naturally left his catholic school knowledge at the door and felt that “an eye for an eye” was in order and poured his entire beer on his new found rival. If you’ve never been around many drunk meatheads at the same time then A. fuck your life because it must suck and B. stay 20 feet away because you might get stuck in the face. Screaming and pushing ensued. The 30 people that were far enough way to be safe (including me) immediately pulled out their phones and began to record the historic, made for Jersey Shore fight while rolling on the floor laughing. The punter flipped his shit so hard that he had to change jeans after being taken to the car and calmed down by his gang for 30 minutes, who were all pissed they had to stop drinking and getting head to calm down their gangster friend who repeatedly claimed “Where I’m from (Miami, Florida..shouldve seen that one coming) when someone dumps their beer on you, they get stomped.” Seriously, if the dude would’ve had a knife he would’ve gone for the throat of anyone that stood in the way of his opponent. Thankfully everything got sorted out, the punter calmed down, sobered up a little bit, and spent the rest of the night introducing himself to every single girl in the place. While the rest of us were introduced to the infamous “heat” and some absurd way of smashing an unopened beer can on your forehead so hard it opens and then chugging it, and jacking off carlo, Watt, and Tstock (much love. Come back.) I wish I could continue with this story, but pulling from any handle my eye caught, bonging beer after beer, and smoking a ridiculous amount of the illegal substance sometimes referred to as reefer ended my night a little early.. thank you to kourtney Crawford for finding me in the backyard face down in the grass when I didn’t even know my own name. I’m proud to say the owner of the house confidently told me I was the drunkest person in the entire place.

God Bless Goblin, The real turk (not you tuna, you fucking suck) and the sexiest and greatest Country of all.

The Dance - Jordan "Reggie" Kiel

Don’t get your hopes up, this post is not about Garth Brooks.

Throughout my life I’ve been known as somewhat of a disrespectful smartass. I was always the one who would cave in to peer pressure just for a few laughs. Although I have paid the price for many of these occurrences throughout; I have also gotten away with entirely too much. For those of you who do not know me on a personal level as well some others reading this, here is a story to help explain.

When I was 11 years old, I attended a dance. This dance is held every year at the LIT (Lutheran Invitational Tournament). The LIT is middle school aged basketball tournament which is held every year with several Lutheran schools throughout Southern Indiana competing, needless to say. It was our Super Bowl. If your team did not win a single game all season, but you did well in the LIT, and even happen to make the All-Tourney Team (which I did twice, of course). Then it was reasonable to expect that every French kissing lovin’ tween would simply flock to your neighborhood hoping to get a ride around the block on the pegs of your Schwinn Cruiser. Let’s just say if your ass made the All-Tourney Team, the idea of rubbing tongues with you was simply the hottest ticket in town.

Now that you fully understand just how important the LIT was, I will now explain what happen at the dance on that cold February night. As I arrive with a couple of my closest friends. I realize that I do not have the 2 dollars that is required as an entry fee. (I had spent all my money on a box of condoms to take to the dance, I had no intention of using these condoms. I simply bought them so I could fill it with mayo and slap the kid in the face who intentionally fouled me earlier in the day, he honestly thought there wasn’t going to be any consequences for his actions… well , little did he know)

As you might imagine; sneaking into the dance was something that was not a big deal and I proceeded to do this successfully. ( Even if they would have stopped me, I probably would have said, “Do you know who the fuck I am?” flabbergasted that an 11 year old has that type of vocabulary and wittiness. I would have just walked on by as they stood in shock, pondering about what just happen.) Once I got into the dance, my eagerness to grind on opposing teams cheerleaders to tunes such as jock jams, pretend not to know every word to Mambo #5, and to make a huge scene during the ChaCha Slide were at an all-time high.

Unfortunately for me and honestly everybody else at the dance; some things are just not meant to be. While still trying to adapt to the overall vibe of the dance, Cory Thomas and I were talking to some cheerleaders from the Evansville Monarchs. (the mascot which some would think to be a king, they were actually the butterfly version of monarchs. Which was rather embarrassing, also explains why they got 6^th place every single year) As the conversation between us and the cheerleaders starts to run dry, I take advantage of the opportunity to impress them. At that time, the athletic director of the hosting school walks by, and let me tell you, this guy is what I would like to call a doucher. He was the male equivalent of Ms. Trunchbull from Matilda. As he walks by I mutter, “Hey, where’s the beer?” Needless to say, after the shock wears off, laughs are heard throughout the gym. But much to my disbelief, Mr. Trunchbull was one of the few who did not find this humorous. After being dragged to the coat room by my ear by this middle aged man, what started off as a simple joke had just turned into maybe one the bigger stories of the year throughout Southern Indiana. As my ear is throbbing in pain, he begins to scrutinize me and keeps yelling, “WHAT IS YOUR NAME YOUNG MAN!?”(like he didn’t know). The thing is; I was aware that he knew exactly who I was, so I kept replying “Bob” (<--clever, I know.) I was also asked where I went to school, Which I also replied, “Bob.” (Once again, comical genius)

Eventually I was escorted out the dance and my parents were called, (not like they cared, where do you think this sarcasm stems from?) As I look back now, I realize what I did was rather immature, but what is even clearer to me is how immature this middle aged man was for pulling an 11 year old by the ear and pinning him against the wall.

I am proud to say, I am still the only individual to be kicked out of the LIT Dance. My only regret is not being able to do what I went there to do. (Slap the kid with the condom and get my fingers wet)

God Bless America more than any other country
Jordan “Reggie” Kiel