Maaaan........

It's raining, I'm blogging from the road at my Father's house in good ol' Syracuse, NY, I had a few Labatt's last night and my head isn't what you call fuzzy as I didn't drink too much but I'm no-where near 100%, I'm drinking coffee, Kool-Aid is in the shower, and today is the last day that I will be twenty eight years old. I don't know how I feel about this. Rough roads lie ahead, who knows?? Simply put, the countdown begins......TOMORROW.

"When we were strangers, I watched you from afar.."

"..when we were lovers, I loved you with all my heart."

Recently I spent an evening making one of my specialties, chicken parmesean. Oh mama, do I know what I'm doin' there. And whether I'm cookin' away in the kitchen, or firin' stuff up on the ol' grill, I like to throw some tunes on in the background. So, while I was preparing the bird and boiling water for the pasta, I had some sweet sweet Neil Young going on. Please, do yourself a favor, follow my lead and do the same. Sweet Jesus "Down by the River" is just so damn awesome!!

Also, when your Kool-Aid is roasting garlic for the bread, for the love of God, please tell her to try to take it easy and not use the garlic like it's a butter spread. I'm still killing small animals and various plantlife when I breathe out my mouth.

I'm so awesome I blow up my own back.

Lately in an attempt to be fully prepared and ready to go for the upcoming fall rugby season, I've been hitting the gym pretty hard. So hard in fact that I guess I just over did cause my back is ailin' something fierce today at the office. Getting some awful odd looks as I am lying on the floor, back arched, in a vague attempt to alleviate the leg numbing pain.

You see internet audience, the Toast is plagued with something called sciatica, and when it acts up, Oh Mama do I become whiny. The root of this very problem stems from my summers in college in which I spent my days working for the LeMoyne College Physical Plant. What does one do while working for the LeMoyne College Physical Plant?? Well, that's simple, anything they fucking tell you to do, all for about $6.00 an hour. Pretty much most of our days were spent removing and replacing dorm furniture all over campus. You ever lift wardrobe units and those fucking dorm couches for four weeks straight in the middle of fucking July?? Needless to say, it's kinda as much of a dang it as can be encountered.

Well, the summer before my senior year I guess I didn't lift with my knees as they say and went all back trying to haul a dresser out of a truck and things just plain didn't end well. I would continue to work for a few more days until I began to complain of my left leg going numb repeatedly throughout the day and intense pain shooting down it. After being sent to a doctor I was diagnosed with a couple herniated discs in my lower back that were pinching my sciatic nerve, thus landing me on the comp for a few weeks. Heavy drinking ensued all day, every day at our off campus house while the housemates were relegated to their summer jobs.

Fuckin' sounds awesome right. I get some time on the comp, a few painkillers for the pain, paid to stay at home and order Chinese food while I watch daytime television. Maybe lie out in the sun or sit in our beloved kiddie pool we purchased for those lazy drunken weekend afternoons. Well, those two weeks off eight years ago have not been worth the hell I've had to endure as every once in a while, depending on the severity of my recent activities, my sciatica will act up and hurt like a motherfucker! Guess what, the present is one of those times. I am stuck sitting behind my desk in my office with constant pain shooting down my left leg and aside from some stretching there is not much that can really be done about it. Hurts not so good folks. And rugby technically hasn't even started yet so I have that to look forward to. AARRRGGGHHH!!! G.D. back!!

"Too Legit to Quit"!

A nice action shot of the Toast atop Uncle Jitter's roof deck from this past Saturday afternoon. Highs and lows of the weekend as follows:

Highs:
1. Saw a number of high class and stellar dudes
2. Gratuitous Male Hugging
3. Tucker's stri-ped briefs; which were seen, unfortunately not on a near naked Tucker
4. Pictures of Javen's daughter Emma
5. Eating one and a half cheese steaks from both Pat's and Geno's **Sidenote: Pat's is better
6. Engaging in a rousing, impromptu, and completely drunken sing-a-long of Gary Glitter's "Rock and Roll Pt2" on Philly's Mass Transit System (fingers crossed for the soon to be uploaded tell-all video)
7. Got me some more sun
8. Homemade mac and che as Sunday evening return to Fort Awesome comfort food
9. "Too Legit to Quit" everywhere we went. Man....I miss spending all my time with these guys.
10. Drunken and non drunken quoting of Mr. Show, The Simpsons (Too Many Grandma's), Seinfeld, etc. that got the Toast giggling and laughing hysterically.


Lows:
1. Getting so drunk that I was unable to stand (its what 12+ hrs of hard boozin' will do to ya)
2. Billy Ball, Reyn, and Dunford carrying me back to Jitter's house
3. Getting slapped when I became unruly upon my discovery that I would no longer be attending bars with the group (post walking ability loss)
4. Not remembering my apparent wrestling match with Billy Ball on the Philly Streets
5. The aftermath that comes from eating one and a half cheese steaks from both Pat's and Geno's
6. Having to drive home yesterday

See, the good outweighs the bad. It was just a fucking awesome weekend all around. I love my friends. We've got to do it all over again...so very soon.

"Taked baby. Meet at later bar, night or day sometime."

Today's Toastedblog title comes straight to you, my internet audience, as a line from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia; one of this guy's current favs. And why is it that I choose I line that out of context really doesn't make all that much sense?? Well, that reason is simple.....I'm off to Phlly bitches!!!

The Toast is trekking to the City of Brotherly love, via my new rig, tomorrow morning for some general debachery with some burly, surly, and more than likely, rather drunken individuals. In the manner of such great and forever heralded summer baseball roadtrips of yore (i.e. "Classic Over-binge" and "Dependence Day Weekend"), I am all set to get together with a number of college friends of old to go to a ball game in Philly and spend a night out on the town. You see, a few years ago when we were all younger and didn't have the reponsibilities that some of us have now, a solid group of ten plus guys would take off in a rented van and see as many baseball stadiums as we could over the course of a few days. Cheap beer, ballpark eats, unintelligible conversations, hours in a rather potent Ford Windstar; these trips proved to be some of the best times that I've ever really had...that I can partially remember of course.

But then, issues such as: marriage, kids, steady jobs, moves across the country, and graduate educations got in the way and these trips have kinda come to a halt over the past two summers as free time became something of the past. However, this year, we have decided to scrape together at least a weekend that we can all link up, and at least, for one night, it will be like the old days when we were twenty one and didn't get tired by 11:30PM or become horribly bloated and in desperate need for tums after a few tacos.

Now, due to work here in the office, the Toast was unable to attend this little weekend's pregame, which was some gamblin' on the ponies today up in Saratoga, NY but the plans are to be up and at'em early tomorrow morning and make the two hour drive to meet up with the caravan at my buddy's place in Philadelphia. Tailgating, mean meat grillin', frisbee and beers will be the agenda prior to an afternoon game at Citizen Bank Park to see the Phils take on the Dodgers. From there...it's really anyone's guess. Some may not live to see midnight but, what I think is needless to say, the results of us all getting together again is going to be something of a sight. And what a cast we have to boot. Jables, Willie Moe, Billy Ball, Uncle Jitter, Tucker, Reyn, The Hoff, yours truly (the Toastmaster General), Dunford. That's just about 1 metric ton of fucking awesome right there. I'm so amped that I might not be able to get any sleep tonight. It's been too long since we've done something like this, and boy is it going to be sweet!!

Later boners.

I think....I'm getting...the Fear.

Unfortunately have to make this one quick gang, a busy little bee here in the office and we all know that I can't blog at home. Pffft...that's my time and I ain't sharing that with no one.

Anywho, seeing Vedder solo the other night was pretty much...the shit. To be in that intimate setting, the crowd kinda hanging on his every word ; albeit there were a few idiotic shouts for requests of Pearl Jam tunes like "Corduroy". Really dude?? They play that, at like, every show. So, I was saying, it was a pretty unique experience and it'll be one that I'll take with me forever. Vedder bantered back and forth with the crowd and wanted to keep the whole feel of the evening relaxed as he played some of his own songs, a few Pearl Jam beats, some timely covers, and a couple from his kick-ass soundtrack to the movie, Into the Wild.

Also, I always kind of thought this from my many Pearl Jam shows that I have been to, seen, and heard, but Eddie was really, kinda funny. From his reactions to the crowd shouting requests and their declaring their undying love for him to trying to play off messing up random chords on the guitar, Vedder was...well just Eddie Vedder, no more, no less. You saw the human quality of him at a venue like the Warner Theatre, which held only a bit more that 1500 I reckon. He was engaging and for two and half plus hours he alone captivated the crowd with his music, beliefs, wit, and just plain telling various stories about his experiences.

I've said this before, but I don't think I'll ever get a chance to alter it, but this was probably the best show I've ever been to. And I wasn't even drunk. I did however go out to dinner with Kool-Aid before hand to a Tapas Bar that, due to Restaurant Week here in the District, featured all you can eat tapas, but that's besides the point. Point is, and always be, this show, this setting, this atmosphere, the amount of little plates that I put down prior, all culminated into an experience that was fucking, kick ass. So, with that, I leave you with the set list.

Set list: Sometimes, Trouble, Girl from North Country , Around the Bend, I am Mine, I'm Open, Man of the Hour, Setting Forth, No Ceiling, Guaranteed, Far Behind, Rise, You're True, Driftin', If you want to Sing Out Sing Out, Forever Young, Porch

1st encore: Here's to the State, Blackbird, Society (w/ Liam Finn), Throw your arms Around Me (w/ Liam Finn), No More, Arc

2nd encore: All Along the Watchtower (w/ Brendan Canty), Hard Sun (w/ Liam Finn and EJ Barnes)

Duly Noted

It should be known that, aside from just being plain ol' awesome, I also grill up some of the most kick ass burgers the world has ever seen!!! We're talkin' some 1/2 pounders here!! Pat them together with some diced onions and garlic, throw them on your good friend the charcoal grill, serve with corn on the cob and some homemade mac salad; "OH MAMA" is right!!! Dem sumbitches are/were off the chain!!

Is it that obvious that I don't have that much to report today?? In other news, I have shin splints from a heap o' hill running of late and tonight I am going to see the Nats take on the Mets. Stop the presses right??

Fuck and Yes: The Toast High Fives Kool-Aid Ed.

Fuckin' all praise Kool-Aid. Why would I go ahead and open with such a statement you ask? Well, the reasoning is quite simple if you step back and take a ganders at it with the current information that I have here in my possession. What is it that I'm talking about now?? Again with the questions. Okay..okay..okay..okay, I'll clue you in. Kool-Aid, in all her wonder and glory, went out and got me the concert tickets that I so desperately wanted. You know, the wicked expensive ones from third party vendors to go see Eddie Vedder this weekend here in D.C. Let all say it together with me...FUCK and YES.

Granted they are a birthday present (Toast's Birthday is August 31st) but that still is pretty damn sweet. I was surprised with a small box wrapped in ribbon following my post-run shower last night and inside were some Kool-Aid constructed tickets to the event as the real ones have yet to arrive by mail. Her reasoning for doing something like this was simple, to make me happy, and let me tell you something internet audience, it really has. No foolin'!! I've said it before and I will say it again..."Kool-Aid, you the tops!!"

"Everybody knows you never go full retard."

I am finding that my desire to see this movie grows more and more each day. Robert Downey Jr. is the fucking man!! There...I said it.

Wanted: Someone to buy me wicked expensive Eddie Vedder tix.

This is Eddie Vedder, lead singer of my favorite band, Pearl Jam. Anyone who doesn't realize that fact can simply just back away from this little blog o'mine and never ever return.

Currently Vedder is on a short 13 date solo tour of these here United States and has been courteous enough to stop by the District for two shows in about a week and a half at some place known to the locals as the Warner Theatre. What?!?! It was only a little over a month ago that Vedder came to town with the boys for a show at the Verizon Center. This is fucking outstanding news!! Someone get Little Charlie Coville on the horn, he'd love this. Only problem is, when the Toast went to go purchase tickets to go to see Eddie live and solo, I was met with some rather disheartening news. Mutha fuckers are all sold out man.

Not to be dissuaded that easily, I have since looked elsewhere, like from third party vendors, to find tickets to see a solo Eddie in action. $125. per ticket!?!? Dammit!! A pair for $300 bones?!?! Rat Farts!! Can I swing that much loot just to see Eddie for a few hours in an intimate setting?? Man, sometimes I really wish I was wealthy entrepreneur. Or at least competent enough to plot an international jewel heist. Yeah...that would be the balls.

End of an era. The time for the P.O.S to be put down has come.

Way back in the year 2003 I became the proud owner of this:

A slightly used Jeep Cherokee. Man, did I become the shit. I had four wheel drive to handle all the off-roadin' the Toast was accustomed to, which was basically every Saturday rugby game when we had to park on a gravel parking lot as apposed to smooth blacktop; but hey, it had a sweet tailgate, four doors, and wasn't douchebaggy like those Jeep Wranglers. Lacrosse players with their DMB stickers, popped polo collars, barbed wire tats, and ran-too-fast spiky fucking hair. Assholes!!

Anywho, where was I?? Oh, I had just purchased a new to me Jeep and everything was pretty much gravy. True, I wasn't getting the gas mileage that my previous car was capable of, the sweet cutlass, but I also wasn't driving around in an maroon Oldsmobile now was I?? That car did have a pretty sweet Pearl Jam "Alive" bumper sticker on it...but I digress. Life was good.

Anywho, about 6 months into owning the now, self dubbed, "Nice Marmot" Jeep due to it's "Nice Marmot" bumper sticker, (thank you Big Lebowski) I kinda ran into a little bit of trouble. It was a wonderful weekday afternoon in mid-March Syracuse and I was amidst a date of sorts. Few times in Upstate New York do you encounter the combination of 60 plus degrees and sunshine in March so I had taken advantage of the situation to meet a lady out at a local park to go for a long run, enjoy the out-of-doors and then go to the local Wegmans to pick up some food to make a nice healthy dinner. Well, on the way to the grocery store for our healthy vittles I was stopped on a major road by a traffic light and as I scanned my rearview mirror to see the haps behind me I noticed a SUV speeding up instead of the accustomed to, and highly recommended, slowing down for an oncoming red traffic light. I said to myself:

Toast: "I don't think she's slowing down."

And thats when it happened...BAM!!!!! Now, no-one was seriously injured here and basically I made out fine as all damages were covered under her insurance and I needn't worry about a thing. My Jeep was another story as "Nice Marmot" Jeep, while still driveable, had her rear end kinda smooshed and her frame was altered ever so slightly in the accident causing "Nice Marmot" to be dubbed with the term no vehicle wants to receive...totalled. Except, she wasn't totalled and with my father's keen ability to work on cars combined with one of his co-worker's keen ability to really work on cars, the Jeep was back at it and on the road. Better yet, I had made out like a bandit by getting full value for the vehicle from the insurance company and really didn't have any damages that needed me to pay to get fixed. In other words, I was paid close to 10 grand to have some lady smash into the back end of my Jeep at about 30 miles an hour and then just deal with "Nice Marmot's" self image issues.

Now, with all this going on a transformation occured in my Jeep, and more importantly, a transformation in my attention to detail in taking care of said Jeep. No longer would she be met with the handle "Nice Marmot. From then on my Jeep took on the surname...P.O.S., or piece of shit. I stopped really giving two shits about what she looked like and the little things, like a back door being unable to open or its inability to tow anything due to a slightly askew frame. Instead, it was something to get me from A to B.

But the P.O.S. was still more than that. It became a symbol of who I was, a dude. A dude that didn't have time to be bothered by a improperly functioning brake light or air conditioning that wasn't quite cold. A dude that was gritty, down and dirty, and had character as that certainly was what the P.O.S. was loaded with, character. The P.O.S. was the Toast and the Toast was the P.O.S.; someone that didn't give a shit what others thought and would be who he wanted and was meant to be, and damn, in a world that cares sooo much about self-image, the media, stars and starlets, the P.O.S. can be deemed as "fucking refreshing" when viewed in that light.

And don't look at her like a charity case either, the P.O.S. still performed admirably. Road trips, moe.downs, camping excursions, the P.O.S. was there driving away and doing her part with crazy V6 power. As Kool-Aid and I entered into a long distance relationship when she was in Grad School in Baltimore, who was it that getting this guy down there every other week??? The P.O.S., that's who; in all her slightly dented glory.

Over my last year here in VA, she didn't get the same amount of attention as she deserved. Unless I was driving to and fro rugby practice, games, hauling heavy and awkward items, or going to hockey and needed her spacious trunk and backseat for my gear, the P.O.S. was constantly parked in Fort Awesome's back lot and seldom driven. The rough life and tough winter's that the P.O.S. endured over the years had bitten her hard and a little over a month ago when I tried to take her out to a local golf course as Kool-Aid was set to drive off in what has been her replacement of late due to its stellar gas mileage, the L.B.C. (Little Baby Corolla), it was discovered that the driver's side door would no longer latch correctly. Following an afternoon taking her door apart I soon found that she required a trip to the garage to be properly fixed as I had little to no idea on what I was doing. Besides, she needed a Virginia inspection and registration as she still had her NY info and plates.

Now, comes the sad part. It is time to part ways with my whip. The P.O.S. has failed her VA state inpection due to (blatant air quotes) rust issues. Her rocker panels are rusted out, the aforementioned driver side door is having issues, the fog lights are no longer functioning, the passenger front door has a lock that is malfunctioning, and the rear brakes are among the assorted laundry list of problems that must be dealt with in order for the P.O.S. to have a chance to pass inspection and, to be blunt, it's just not worth it to fix a car in her state just because I drive it around for free.

I have been in contact recently with a local car guy who claims to be willing to purchase the P.O.S. for its still useable parts but it really is kinda sad to see her go. She was so utilitarian, she just got the job done but the sentimental value of this jeep can not be ignored. We had been through a lot together and I'm not happy to see her go; not happy in the least. I know she still has more fight in her but there is no justifucation to pay about $2000. in repairs to a car that is barely worth 50 bucks and this scenario has forced my hand into looking for a real replacement for the P.O.S. and I am finding myself leaning towards a Volkswagen oddly enough. A Passat...is that me??

Man, you should have been there when I picked her up though, lookin' good I tells ya. Now, a shell of her former self on the outside, her 6 cylinder, 190 Hp engine still roars like a fucking lion, king of the jungle baby!! My plan is to give her one more good run out on the road before I take the plates off to send back to NY to my father and call this guy to pick her up just to put her down. It'll be good to get her out there just one more time. To accelerate up steep hills, to slingshot past cars on the highway with the greatest of ease. Who knows, maybe, for the last time we'll get her on the rough terrain. Off roading into the sunset?? Whatever the case I'll miss you P.O.S., it's been a hell of a ride.

You know what's fucking delicious???

Hot damn risotto is so fucking awesome. At no-one's fault but my own that I've never had the luxury of taking down some of this shit and as one that loves to cook, its kind of surprising. Forget about my love to cook, my passion for eating really tasty food is leaps and bounds ahead of my cooking desires. Nevertheless, after yesterday, I am no longer blind to the wonders of this Italian treat.

Last night, in preparation for a certain Kool-Aid's triumphant return to Fort Awesome from a weekend getaway to see some friends in the NYC, the Toast put his sweet sweet culinary skills on full display by makin' a meal fit for...well mah Kool-Aid. Mind you, Kool-Aid's none too flashy, one of those low maintenance, zero drama dames that we fellas dream about. So, the Toast fired up the grill, slapped a Bad Johnny steak on there, sauteed up some shrooms, cooked up a few ears of corn, and while pondering a side dish to add to the menu decided to give this risotto stuff the ol' college try.

This shit is the fucking jackpot and I even made the most basic risotto possibly known to man. I looked into recipes that have you throwing all kinds of shit in there. Portabello mushrooms...gonna try that next time. Roasted red peppers and/or asparagus tips...put it on the board!! Making it with some braised veal?? Hot damn, I love me some baby cow!! The options for total and complete risotto upgrades are pretty much endless. Cook it with some bird, throw multiple cheeses in there. You like seafood, that works too. Wanna get boozed up while you eat?? Guess what, you're putting wine in it. Whatever you do, you can't miss. It's un-possible!!!

You know what makes risotto even better?? I made enough of it that I'll be having it with every meal from now until next Tuesday and I'll still have to throw some of it out, not that I ever would. I just wish that I brought some of it for lunch. Stupid rye breaded sandwich. What the hell was I thinking?!?! And what man packs wheat thins and a little cottage cheese cup to go with it?? A fucking idiot, that's who.