Brain Cells and Trivial Data

I belive I have a unique memory. I can remeber details about objects very well. Once I learn how something works or what a part of something is called I never forget. Any procedure, no matter how many steps, can easily be recalled and repeated. I guess you can say I have a "Technical" memory.

When it comes to what some may call "Interpersonal" memory, I am pretty unequiped. I miss tell stories, I often forget details and parts, I have even been known to switch charicters around. Sometimes what I did, I remember as someone else doing it or vise-versa. Its a strange feeling. It is not purposefull and I have had the problem for some time. Luckily I have great friends who realise I am not a liar, just forgetfull and (not always tactfully) set me strait.

This friday will be the 14 day aniversary of my "broken" hand. I have regaind most practical use and find the stifness more a pain then the actual pain. I will probaly try some basketabll friday. I went out Monday with my fiance and shot some hoops. She beat me 2 out of three games, but she is pretty good for a hot girl.

I caught myself downloading games from three differnt sources tonight and realised that a broken body part is no excuse for lasiness and I should just go for a run. It is hard to explain, other then maby compairing it to a drug. A heroine adict will not smoke pot because it "just does not work." While running is probaly better for me, it is just not heroine.

Lastly I apologise for teh freeflowing format of this post with a few small stories, my dayquil is wearing off and my cold is starting to win.


"Rocko!"
"What!"
"Where's my cat?"
"I killed your cat."
"Why?"
"I thought it would bring closure to our relationship."
-Boone Dock Saints

My lips are showing.

I am either a retard or a whimp, or both. I hurt my hand a week ago and as a recourse am going to miss this weeks basketball. I felt I could be great. I am getting in better shape, my vertical is improving, my indurance is great. So Friday I tried to dunk, and broke my hand. I over commited and fell over another player and landed my entire body full force on my right fist. 222 poundds plus the accelration of gravity falling 5-10 feet equals a big oww. My fiance' and parents have forbade further basketball activity. I feel fat already.

I realise the irony of having this directly after the lat post, but I suppose in the words of Morpehous "Fate, it seems, is not without it's sence of irony."

My fellow player ride me saying that a 20 pound shooting hand (from the swelling) is no reason to sit. In my anger at myself at being week I let loose on th eone person who did ont deserve, my Fiance'. I yelled at her and said osme bad things, nothing unforgivable, but all uncalled for.

Luckily a trip to Target, $100 in patio furniture and dinner for 2 at Outback made it all ok.

Well this "blog" is just me groveling for apologies form he rand God. Hopefully I can play Sunday.

I Love It

I absoluely love basketball. I just hate watching pro basketball. I can play for four hours, untill my legs are weak and I am near puking from the effort. I try to wacth B-Ball (professionaly) and I am ethierd miffed (reallyh mad about lack of calls) or bored form the lack of team play.

The only good side to pro ball is that it makes the "ballerz" try to play the way the pros do (all style and no fundimentals). Myself and four well grounded white guys can murder these clowns. I think we should have fantasy flagler pickup. I belive that the four guys I mention and myself would clean house given a few weeks for two of our players (who really no fault of there own) are slightly out of practice.

Here is the starting lineup

At #1 Rich Chamberlian: (The Biatch) Rich was almost a victum of the "playaz" syndrome but was lucky saved but the discorvery of alchohal and age.

At #2 Neal McCoppin: (The Real Deal) Neal is the father time of our group. At 51 he was able to keep pace with us most of the time, and his three pointer's acruacy makes robin hood feel inadiquite with his bow. He is curenlty a victom of "big business" and needs a few weeks to get his rythem back.

At #3 Mike Vitale: (Diseal) Mike has a powerforward build, with a shooting guards shot, but sadli,y like most white guys, cursed with lack of height and vertical leap. He is currently cursed with finishing law school and could use a few weeks to get his endrance back, for Mike can never loose his rythem.

At #4 Matt Golden: (SLEEP!!!) Matt is a south paw powerforward with a devistaing hook shoot. The hook is great in that no one uses it and its nearly impossible to get past Matt's girth and height to reach it. Matt's major downfall is his overcommitment to his work. While a good work ethic is a rarecomodity, you all know what they said about "Jack."

At #5 Myself: I have to draft myself, and put me in the center slot based mostly on height and vertical leap, while not al imprseeive I have gained to ability to get the rim again. I belive a feww more weeks and I will be dunking. My endurance has always been high, but I have been averaging 9-12 hours a week in full court basketball. If I picked back up my runing/pushup/sit=up routine, I would would easily do 20+ hours a week in exersice.

Five white guys who can actualy shoot, box-out, pass, and talk on defensce are a rare and enjoyable sight. The mosy enjoyment we recive is the frustration in the "playaz", "ballaz", and "rollaz" (what is up with the leter z, let snoop rest folks) eyes. You can almost hear their thoughts "How in the **** is this overweight white guy schooling me." After a few games we get the "Man, this ball has no grip," "I am having an off day man," "Damn, my teamates suck," etc. Who do they think they are fooling.

I am not saying we are undefetable, we do have off days and do meet imprseive oponits, but it hsows that fundamentals and hussel (the two truely lost aspects of basketball) are you need to keep the game at least even.

This post was brought on by a particular event that happened last week. Last Tuesday I went down to palm coast park to play some pickup. I was there six hours this time, only cause schol was out and I got there at three our of boredom and left at nine. It was not six solid hours I actualy had to sit a few games. Non-coinceidentaly I was the only "fully" whit guy there. The game prior to when I had to sit my team lost 10-12, close game. I was not picked up. Stragely enough I scored 8 of my teams 10 points. 3-2' and 2-1's. My teammate who lagged back and attempted to cherry pick (wich forced us to defend five guys with four players) was picked up. He scored the other two points off cherry pick plays. I know for a fact I was not picked up because I was white, I had full high tops and higher then knee length shorts. The fact that in a college game (al things considered equal) if I socred %80 of my teams point, win or lose, I would have every pro scout tossing; babes, bucks, and buicks my way.

I digress, I do enjoy the irony of not being picked in that I can hope the team that did not pick me wins (with, sadly, usualy does not happen) and I get four guys who I enjoy plaing with and really embarass those "playaz"


"Pass the rock" "The rock, just ball you illeiterate swine!"