Wreckin' Ball Comin'!!!

Wow, not being at work for a while has sure made for the time to pass by here awful quick Toastedblog fans. To think that you have had to deal with one entry a week probably has forced you to go elsewhere for fine internet entertainment. Might I suggest you check out this next time. Hilarious!!! I'm giggling just thinking about it.

So why the Wreckin' Ball title?? Well, we here at Toastedblog have decided to thank our good friend Kristin (aka Wreckin' Ball) for allowing the Toast to borrow the new Queens of the Stone Age album by puttin' her name on the board!! A better reward, there probably could have been, but she's not in it for the glory. Just in it to further the advancement of awesome rockingness!! That and it gives me the opportunity to say stuff like "Wreckin' Ball Comin!!" and have pictures of Carl Spackler on Toastedblog.

Where was I?? Oh yeah, Queens of the Stone Age (from now on shall be referred to as QOTSA). Lullibies to Paralyze is fantastic!! At least I think so. And I know how much my friends value my opinion on music, movies, sports, politics, etc. so my presenting the awesomeness value of this album may not matter all that much. But damned if I didn't go to minor league catcher camp, and damned if I wasn't NutRocker, Heisman trophy hopeful; so you will have to at least acknowledge my opinion.


Ya know, if you ever wanna rap, or just get weird with someone, buddies for life..I think.

But this recently released QOTSA album is still pretty damn good. I have listened to it a few times since Shea let me borrow at the Change Of Pace last night. So far, I really like the song "I never came". As a matter of fact I am listening to it right now. A lot of critics of this album will say that this album may be missing a lot of uumph behind it due to the departure of bassist Nick Oliveri. Singer/guitarist Josh Homme does a bang up job picking up the slack and the album ends up being a bit moodier than past albums and is almost haunting all together. It's a lot of dark eerie harmonies and Homme's voice just blends in with 'em. You see a lot of this on the song "Someone's in the Wolf". But that's the thing, this is all really well done. At no point was I disappointed that I was listening to it. It gets the Toastedblog stamp of approval, so all you kiddies, feel free to pick it up. Get me a sandwich while you're out there, please. What?? What kind??!! I dont know....kinda in a reuben mood!! Yeah get me one of those!! And a root beer!! Delicious.

Well, rugby has officially started. We had been practicing inside Manley Field House and just doing a ton of running and only a few drills. The other day we had our first outdoor practice and not gonna mie to you, it was a little sloppy. We have a intersquad scrimmage on Saturday at noon with teams from both S.U. and LeMoyne to warm up for next weekend's tournament in Pennsylvania. I may have found myself some more playing time at the inside center position as apposed to wing. That means a little more hitting!! Is this a good thing?? I guess we'll find out. But in practices I have been running more there and I have to say I'm doing all right at it. Once again, I guess we'll find out.

Well, the job search has begun. The other day I posted a few resumes on monster.com and actually applied for a few jobs. But I am still upset at the way things ended at my job just last week. To be called at 11 pm and told not to come into work anymore. I still haven't gotten my stuff from my office. I was told that they didn't want me in my own office to get my personal belongings out of my desk. And to lose my job for something everyone else was doing, just seems a little shady is all. Billy tried to get me riled up and fiesty to stumble into my office all loaded and make a huge scene while requesting my stuff. To be honest, I wanted to stay out all night drinking and show up at my office at about 10 am with Willie Moe, Phelps, and Billy, all drunk and our stinking of diner food demanding that I be able to clean out my desk. Oh well, on to bigger and better things now I guess. And hopefully that reuben.

It's 1:32 AM and I'm still up drinking; why is that??

Well, it isn't because of St. Patrick's Day that I am still up drinking this evening. Actually around 10:00 pm I was quite tired and had already turned off my brand new computer. Yeah, that's right toasted blogs via a pajama clad Toast. Let's not forget the Creighton sweatshirt. There, that should make you all warm and fuzzy and make this news a little easier. I got fired this evening.....by a call to my cell phone at 11:00 pm. Dang it.

It's the An-Syr-Iri-Dri-Con '05

Woooo....It's almost St. Patrick's Day. You know what that means, us good ol' Irish get to celebrate our wonderful heritage. Uh...that and.....every...uh....everyone goes out and drinks delicious green beer. That's it!! Technically this past Saturday was the St. Patty's Day round here, or as I like to call it, the An-Syr-Iri-Dri-Con '05. (Annual Syracuse Irish Drinking Conference 2005) Not a bad time I tells ya. Not bad at all. That's what our current toastedblog entry is all abut internet faithful. Oh yeah, that and I can never again refer to Phelp's as Chumps.

As many as you know, our god pal, resident chef, and medical consultant Phelps has been given the nickname Chumps from your friendly neighborhood Toast by account of him being, at times, my arch-nemesis. Other than being an Eagles fan and having keener culinary instincts, Phelps has never done anything to warrant such a nickname; as a matter of fact Phelps has stated that he indeed really likes the Toast. To be honest, Phelps is pretty awesome........off the record of course. I just like the forced animosity; kind of like wrestling your brother. Do my friends have brothers? A recent interaction betwixt Phelpsy and myself has, in fact, changed my opinion of who the "actual" Chumps is in this friendship.

Think back if you will, to a time before time actually existed or, if you're having difficulty, we'll just use Saturday afternoon. Yeah, lets just go with Saturday. The annual parade mentioned above was occuring and the Toastmaster General was all riled up to stand outdoors with some good people and have a few too many brews. I headed over shortly after 12pm with my long time gal pal Chukes (or Michelle) to meet up with a few friends to enjoy the afternoon the only way us Irish know how. To quote the infamous T.T., It's my birthday...and I'm getting drunker!! At this point, my tentative battleplan for the afternoon was drive downtown with a backpack full of 'Stones, find everybody's favorite little crapper Charlie Coville and girlfriend Mary with whom we are supposed to meet up with and call Billy Shannon for there were talks of going to eat at Sud's Factory, complete with Rage Kage and wicked fun Jaime at 1:30. After a brief run in with Billy and the ladies while Toast was trying to locate a restroom facility, Part B of An-Syr-Iri-Dri-Con '05 was taken care of. That is, I now don't have to worry about calling Billy. The act of going to Sud's and eating terrific sandwiches which should have been No. 2 on the priority list never actually takes place. We blame that entirely on Priority No. 1. See birthday line above.

Ok, this is when we get to Phelpsy. After the parade ends; roughly 3pm, I am wandering around with a good twelve pack in me and I've missed Sudsy Billy and the company of some lovely ladies. That and food. I walk in to Mulrooney's, grab a beer, and mingle, running into some people I don't see too often anymore like college buddy and current accountant Timmy Hyle, and one surprising run-in with a kid named Mike Donnelly. (little help from the Donnelly campaign!) He was a Freshman when I was a Senior at LeMoyne and a fellow left winger on the hockey team. Toast, who during the off-season had been dubbed "Senior Sensation" by the LeMoyne media took well to the encourageable Freshman and faced off in many a hockey bus ride beer chug challenges during the one year that we played together in school. He was a good kid and recognzed me as soon as I walked by. We chatted, enjoyed a drink or two, and now I am getting off track.

While waiting in line for the bathroom, Billy, Kathie, Jaime, and Phelpsy stroll on by. I ramble on like I have a few drinks in me and ultimately do shots with Phelps. After a few more drinks somehow I end up at the Stoop, a martini bar. Why am I here?? Oh well, after a beer or two there is talk of beaking to the Irish relm of Syracuse, and the Toasted home base, Tipperary Hill. Great, now I can go get something to eat and relax for a moment before heading out and gearing up for the Big East Championship game a little bit later. The refrigerator was already prepared for my arrival seeing as how there was leftover sausage with peppers and onion that I promptly reheated and ate in a drunken stupor....with horseradish mustard I might add. Then...suddenly...it happened. The couch proved to be too powerful for me and within minutes a nap was in order. Dang It!! I missed the S.U. game!! Double Dang It!! There are 11 messages on my cell phone wondering where I am!! Phelps is calling me out! Tremendous Dang It!!!

Now, we're looking at 10pm and I have completely lost the past three hours. Calls from Rage Kage, Kyle, Chumps (no longer Chumps), Mags, amongst others have been unable to awaken me from my sandwich enduced slumber. Even worse news would soon follow upon noticing that when I fell asleep on the couch on Pseudo St. Patty's Day the other half of my sandwich had fallen on the floor, no telling how long its been there. #?%& !!

10:30 pm and I am now standing outside local Irish bar Coleman's to prove to Phelps that I am not the new Chumps and to salvage the rest of my St. Patrick's Day. No matter what I say, I cannot convince myself that the mass of man seated before me and not the Toast should have the surname Chumps. I don't think that after my little sleeping performance I should have the privilege of calling one of my friends an undeserved nickname, I did however rally like a trooper and stayed out until 3am. What makes the evening either greater was the fact that Phelpsy and myself are no longer the mortal enemies that we were. Now I can only call him Chumps when playing Golden Tee or while watching Shockey blow up the Eagles. SHOCK-EY!!!

In other toasted news, the playoffs have started in my hockey league. We lost our first game of the postseason 7-5 but we have a chance to even the series tomorrow night. My team, the Underdogs, have our work cut out for us but I think we'll be fine. Maybe I'll bring a flask on the bench, it will be St. Patrick's Day after all. Sorry its been so long since a decent toasted blog. Just you wait till after this weekend. What's up you ask?? Let's just say that B.L.'s may have some walking drunks on Friday and Saturday. What the hell, Sunday too.

What? No! We can't stop here. This is bat country.

Its 12:00 PM on Saturday and I'm on beer number 5!!
I guess there is nothing an Irishman won't do for a beer. Ah, the Human Dog Sled Race at Winterfest. Note the extra pale white legs the Toast features in the 12 degree temperature; perfect weather for rugby shorts. The green hockey helmet, part of regulations. They made us wear some sort of helmet and since I am a back and not a "forward" in rugby, I do not have the need for a scrum cap that my other teammates can be seen wearing. This image caused ridicule from the Toast's younger brother with accusations of mental retardation. In the immortal words of Daniel Banazek, he's so dead to me! We took first place by the way, winning money for charity. What charity, I don't recall. There was a lot of beer to be had that day.