That's N!

Winter is here and that means that it's basketball season again. But I don't watch all of these clowns in college or the so-called Pro's. I like my basketball like my steak...raw! I like games where there are more flagrant fouls than actual points. I have to see teams that spread the ball out and have no presence down low. If less than half the shots come from the paint, I am bored. I live for the long three ball and the base line leaners. It probably has something to do with the fact that I love to yell, "FROM DOWNTOWN" and "HE'S ON FIRE" regardless of whether or not the team is actually doing well. I have found that only BYU intramural basketball can satisfy my hunger for pure talent and ill swagger. The most dominant team in the league presently is team N. The entire team was recruited by BYU and NBA scouts in high school but due to a long list of misdemeanor's they will never see a professional court. They now dedicate themselves to squashing cowards on the intramural scene. They will run the score up on everyone and anyone, now matter how dismal the team. If you love to see pelvic thrusting, high fiving, loud screaming, blood, elbow flying, knock down, lights out, kick A, body slamming basketball, then you need to come see team N. Beautiful babes are always invited. Attendance from other dudes is not appreciated as much but I guess it's okay.  

Arapahoe's Revenge!

I Hate Uncle Preston

Just the other day, I was taking a dip with my two nephews in the pool outside. They have kind of become my new crew that I tend to hang out with, which works out great because I have no friends and since they are so young they think I am super dope because I hang out with them all the time. We were enjoying the splendid afternoon together talking about manly things like wars, women and the frustration of the dewey decimal system. My nephew James (the one featured in the picture) often gets a kick out of taunting and calling me inappropriate names while his parents aren't around. I know he is just buddying around, but I made the rash decision to pick him up and throw him into the pool. Lifting him up and throwing him in the pool was a piece of cake since I've got a bowflex up in my new place and I have basically gotten huge using it. Unfortunately upon surfacing from the depths of the 5 foot pool my nephew seemed to be chocking and somewhat upset. He scrambled to the side of the pool and on his hands and knees coughed for a solid seven or eight minutes. Throughout this time I tried to give him words of encouragement so that he could pull through and continue having fun. I told him words like "Suck it up! Be a man! Quit faking! Don't be such a baby!" and "I will buy you pizza if you never tell your mommy and daddy about this!" After coughing and burping he seemed to be doing fine but he looked at me very intensely, as if he were going to avenge the death of a loved one. It was in this moment that my nephew looked at me and said,"I hate you!" He repeated it a few times sometimes yelling it pretty loud but I just laughed and laughed. Children always say things, but most of the time they don't really mean it.

After this incident I told my nephew that I was going to make him love me whether he liked it or not. He didn't seem pleased at the time with my proposal because he claimed that he still hated me. I didn't know then nor do I know now how exactly I am going to win back my eight year old nephews love.

Here are some other pictures. They aren't really related to the story in anyway, but I think they help us understand more about life and what our purpose is.

Koons Manasses

If you like music and happen to like fun for some odd reason, then you will love Koons Manasses. It is kind of an experimental project with a little bit of screamo and rap rock. Let's meet the band!

The bassist William, (Far Left) who is basically the one who holds the band together has already developed a strong addiction to percocet. This only worries us because we feel like the fame and fortune that awaits in the future might only make the problem worse. The guitarist Randall, (Back Center) has been recently diagnosed with diabetes. We are told it is because he has been hanging out too much on the wrong side of Provo although he denies ever having done so. But he writes guitar riffs smooth enough to make a grizzly bear purr. The drummer Robert, (Far Right) is basically the only reason we have a band since most of our instruments belong to him. He is rarely seen without a pair of sunglasses as most drummers are these days, but we also believe that he has lost most of his vision and has made him a little self conscious. James the lead vocalist, (Front Center) has a voice that sounds like a mixture of Chris Cornell (from Sound Garden) and Darren Hayes. (from Savage Garden) He suffers from a rare form of dyslexia and ADHD and is very frustrating for the band to work with at time because he is very sensitive of the fact that he can't read.

So if you are looking for hip new music that you can jive and shake your pelvis to, download the hot new single "How Sweeeeet!" from Koons Manasses.

Dead All Along

Too Late!

Some of you may not be aware, (shame on you) that one of the greatest movies of all time is Bloodsport. Since this is my first blog post it is only appropriate that I pay homage to one of the men that has guided me me throughout my life. Jean, this one is for you! Even when I was only a small boy and really could not even pronounce your name, I practiced your moves and memorized your facial expressions. I remember not too long ago I had a conversation with a close and very attractive friend of mine who said that my love for Bloodsport could not be greater than her love for dance. "Do you eat it? Live it? Breathe it? Sleep it?" She asked. I looked back at her with a similar facial expression that Chong Li has when he stomps on Ray Jackson's head and said, "Yes! I even kill in the name of it." She felt defeated and hasn't really talked to me since for reasons unknown to me. I have worked my entire life to try and perfect my body the way Jean Claude clearly has in this film. I believe that I am close and that soon it will be time to start shaving the manly hair that covers my body and searching online to find black biker shorts with chinese characters written down the legs. I hope to soon qualify to enter the Kumite, although I am not sure what exactly I have to do in order to get invited. My current plan is to start challenging people at random in certain locations where people will be willing to get beaten up mercilessly and where someone will for sure be recording the whole thing on camera. I had a few locations in mind; The Flying J Truck Stop (which will also be great if I am hungry after my bout cause I hear you can get a T-bone for $4.99), the local bowling alley or putt putt course, or outside of any major high school sporting event. I am sure that in no time I will receive my scroll and report to the ring to perform the dim mach (death touch, a highly stylized ritual of break bricks with your bare hands). But for the time being I will continue to get stronger using the bowflex in my brothers pool house where I currently live and trying to do the splits so that I can fight just like Jean. When I get back I will show you the cool sword they give you for winning.

This is one of the moves I try to perfect in my spare time. I practice it on punching bags, trees and now my nephews since I live with them. However, they usually start to cry when they see my eyes get really wide like that.

This is the face the Chong Li will make after her stomps on your head and that I will make if I lose a game of NBA Hangtime.

This is Ray Jackson prior to having his head smashed by Chong li. He is a perfect example of a great man and someone who I have tried to emulate my life after. I also believe he inspired the Street Fighter character Zangieff, but no one ever believes me.