Monday, October 31, 2011
The Invasion of Montreal-Part deux
This summary is not available. Please
click here to view the post.
Friday, October 21, 2011
The Invasion of Montreal
Part 1
How do you say, "Holy shit, that stripper just blew me in the back room for twenty bucks!" in French?
It doesn't matter, because for a couple of nights many years ago, when the Red Sox played a few road games against the now defunct Montreal Expos, the entire city was occupied by New Englanders. Everyone important enough within earshot spoke English!
Tangent alert:
First of all, Montreal, and on a broader scope, the province of Quebec...who the hell do you think you are? Speak English like the rest of the majority north of the Rio Grande. I understand that the area was initially settled by the French 300 years ago, but ya know what? Mexico was settled, (ok, ravaged) by the Spanish but they're at least smart enough to TRY to learn English.
Quebec is so arrogant that they thumb their noses at us in the states, which I suppose you could understand...but they do the same thing against the rest of their OWN COUNTRY!! They tried to secede from Canada in the 90's!! Does anyone remember this? Does anybody care? They wanted to be their own country! Really, Quebec? You wanted to secede from one of the most stable countries in the world, who have free health care and virtually no enemies, and start your OWN country? Is "douchebag" a French word? I think it is....
Quebec wanted to start their own government and literally become the country of Quebec. What the hell would the "country" of Quebec have to offer the world? Nobody cares about Celine Dion anymore. What would their main export be? Would they have a two-team hockey league? How would they self-sustain without leaching off America and the country that they just told to "fuck off?" "Ummm....yeah, Canada...I know we just told you to go fuck yourselves and became our own country and everything...but the only natural resource we have is moose, can you help us out?" This is not to mention the fact that every terrorist in the world would probably set up shop in the "country" of Quebec. They would practically have to rename the country West Lybia. If they're anything like their surrender monkey mother land, France, they would welcome the terrorists with open arms, give them homes, money, free health care. They wouldn't have to hide in caves, they could send suicide bombers down the Appalachian trail.
This was a REAL thing!! They voted on it, and it almost went down. Would nobody have stepped in and said, "Ya know what, this is probably a bad idea."
Anyways, back to the Invasion of Montreal:
Aren't the greatest adventures the ones that begin with a spur of the moment idea that seems so great at the time, you could swear you just invented space flight? That's how this road trip began. Me, four other guys sitting in my studio apartment, and a dream. The Sox were playing the Expos in Montreal, as I said, for a weekend series. I returned home from work at around 2 p.m. on the Friday and a few of my buddies came by my tiny studio apartment. B-Ride, his cousin JB, Gunny, and my brother Joey. Me, B-Ride, and Gunny were 20 years old. JB was 24, and Joey was only 15.
"What should we do tonight." A bar was out of the question. We could get booze, but then what? Have people over my place, affectionately know as the "Crack Shack." There was a bed, a love seat size sofa, and a small t.v. The kitchen was the size of a normal sized bathroom. Needless to say, our options were limited.
Someone, I forget who, threw it out there. "We should just drive to Montreal." It was meant to be a throw-away suggestion....a joke...but it was a spark that ignited the wheels of our young minds to turn. After a few minutes of everyone thinking the same thing but nobody saying anything, JB spoke up. "Why couldn't we go?" Joey was 15, he was out. B-Ride had something going on the next day. Me and Gunny were in. I did some quick math. "If we leave right now, we could be there by like 9 o'clock, we could go out, grab a hotel, and get tickets to the game tomorrow." Clearly a fool-proof plan, right? The only problem was that every one else in the entire northeast had the same idea. Looking back, it's shocking to me that we thought we were the only ones brilliant enough to head up to Montreal. What's even MORE retarded is how we thought that nobody else had this weekend planned and their hotels and game tickets secured for months. The excitement and spontaneity of the situation clouded our judgement. Yoda would clearly be very worried about us turning to the dark side if he had seen us at this point.
We got in the car, maybe a few hundred bucks between us, no bags, no supplies. We made a quick stop at the gas station and got some snacks and gas, and we were off. Our neighbors to the north had no idea what was in store for them.
How do you say, "Holy shit, that stripper just blew me in the back room for twenty bucks!" in French?
It doesn't matter, because for a couple of nights many years ago, when the Red Sox played a few road games against the now defunct Montreal Expos, the entire city was occupied by New Englanders. Everyone important enough within earshot spoke English!
Tangent alert:
First of all, Montreal, and on a broader scope, the province of Quebec...who the hell do you think you are? Speak English like the rest of the majority north of the Rio Grande. I understand that the area was initially settled by the French 300 years ago, but ya know what? Mexico was settled, (ok, ravaged) by the Spanish but they're at least smart enough to TRY to learn English.
Quebec is so arrogant that they thumb their noses at us in the states, which I suppose you could understand...but they do the same thing against the rest of their OWN COUNTRY!! They tried to secede from Canada in the 90's!! Does anyone remember this? Does anybody care? They wanted to be their own country! Really, Quebec? You wanted to secede from one of the most stable countries in the world, who have free health care and virtually no enemies, and start your OWN country? Is "douchebag" a French word? I think it is....
Quebec wanted to start their own government and literally become the country of Quebec. What the hell would the "country" of Quebec have to offer the world? Nobody cares about Celine Dion anymore. What would their main export be? Would they have a two-team hockey league? How would they self-sustain without leaching off America and the country that they just told to "fuck off?" "Ummm....yeah, Canada...I know we just told you to go fuck yourselves and became our own country and everything...but the only natural resource we have is moose, can you help us out?" This is not to mention the fact that every terrorist in the world would probably set up shop in the "country" of Quebec. They would practically have to rename the country West Lybia. If they're anything like their surrender monkey mother land, France, they would welcome the terrorists with open arms, give them homes, money, free health care. They wouldn't have to hide in caves, they could send suicide bombers down the Appalachian trail.
This was a REAL thing!! They voted on it, and it almost went down. Would nobody have stepped in and said, "Ya know what, this is probably a bad idea."
Anyways, back to the Invasion of Montreal:
Aren't the greatest adventures the ones that begin with a spur of the moment idea that seems so great at the time, you could swear you just invented space flight? That's how this road trip began. Me, four other guys sitting in my studio apartment, and a dream. The Sox were playing the Expos in Montreal, as I said, for a weekend series. I returned home from work at around 2 p.m. on the Friday and a few of my buddies came by my tiny studio apartment. B-Ride, his cousin JB, Gunny, and my brother Joey. Me, B-Ride, and Gunny were 20 years old. JB was 24, and Joey was only 15.
"What should we do tonight." A bar was out of the question. We could get booze, but then what? Have people over my place, affectionately know as the "Crack Shack." There was a bed, a love seat size sofa, and a small t.v. The kitchen was the size of a normal sized bathroom. Needless to say, our options were limited.
Someone, I forget who, threw it out there. "We should just drive to Montreal." It was meant to be a throw-away suggestion....a joke...but it was a spark that ignited the wheels of our young minds to turn. After a few minutes of everyone thinking the same thing but nobody saying anything, JB spoke up. "Why couldn't we go?" Joey was 15, he was out. B-Ride had something going on the next day. Me and Gunny were in. I did some quick math. "If we leave right now, we could be there by like 9 o'clock, we could go out, grab a hotel, and get tickets to the game tomorrow." Clearly a fool-proof plan, right? The only problem was that every one else in the entire northeast had the same idea. Looking back, it's shocking to me that we thought we were the only ones brilliant enough to head up to Montreal. What's even MORE retarded is how we thought that nobody else had this weekend planned and their hotels and game tickets secured for months. The excitement and spontaneity of the situation clouded our judgement. Yoda would clearly be very worried about us turning to the dark side if he had seen us at this point.
We got in the car, maybe a few hundred bucks between us, no bags, no supplies. We made a quick stop at the gas station and got some snacks and gas, and we were off. Our neighbors to the north had no idea what was in store for them.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Rock Bottom Is Not That Bad
Unless you're dead, I guess.
My point is, sometimes you get poop on your finger. You do your very best to wash it off, but sometimes it really stinks for a while. Eventually, the stench dissipates and you go back to forging your finger ahead into the butthole that is life, hoping that the next time...it comes out clean on the other end. Cause life is shit sometimes. One day you can have it all figured out, and then you go and do something stupid. More likely, you commit a series of shitty mistakes. That, coupled with dumb, blind, shitty luck...and there you have it. Rock bottom.
People can have tough times, even when they have the best intentions. For the most part; however, bad things seem to happen in spurts. For those unlucky enough, when it rains, it pours, as they say. No matter how big your heart is and how much you pour into life and relationships, it might not be enough.
One guy I know was about to turn 30 years old. He had a great job, made a ton of money, had a wife and son, and was even thrown a surprise 30th birthday party with all his friends and family in attendance. He was on top of the mountain. Nothing, in his mind, could go wrong.
One month later, his wife left him and took his son. He moved back with his parents. He had meaningless sex with numerous girls in order to attempt to fill the lonely void of being separated. This poor bastard moved into a shitty apartment by himself and battled with his now ex-wife. They divorced. He was laid off from his job. He got a new job offer, with a great salary, and the position was taken away two days before he was supposed to start. He found out his ex-wife was in a serious relationship; the "new guy" spending more time with his son than he did. His mom was very sick. He had a shitty relationship with his father. His friends started to become distant.
Finally, he met a new woman. He hit it off right away with her. He even went so far as to think they would spend the rest of their lives together. The bond was that strong. The problem was, his life was in such shambles that the new woman, rightfully so, decided that he couldn't handle a relationship until he got back on his feet, and broke it off after a few months. He was evicted from his apartment shortly after. His debt piled up. There were no lucrative job offers on the table. In a nutshell, this guy was fucked.
As my friend's 31st birthday approached, things seemed pretty dim, to say the least. There were two directions he could have gone. Give up, or give it all he had to turn things around. This man, yes MAN, turned things around. He said to me, when I asked him what his plan was, "Vinny....no matter what happens to me and to my life, the sun is going to rise tomorrow. There will be new opportunities. There's only one way to go but up, at this point. I'm a hard worker. I'll find a new place to live, a great job...and maybe, just maybe, things will work out with the perfect girl that I stumbled upon. And if not, I'll move on. Life is going to happen, but only if I take it by the balls."
"The sun is going to rise tomorrow." That really hit home for me. No matter how bad things get in life, the world doesn't care. A new day will begin, and then another, and then another. You could be homeless, alone, and broke....but the world and all it's inhabitants don't give a shit. So you have to make your own way. You have to say, "Ya know what, FUCK YOU. I don't care what you throw at me, I'm gonna be fine. I'm gonna take all this shit, all this bad karma, and use it as fuel to pour on the fire under my ass to make myself better. If that's not being a man, I don't know what is.
I'm inspired by this man, and make no mistake, he is a man. A good man, with a good heart and a relentless sense of bettering himself. He's my inspiration. I thought he would break. I thought he would give up. Shit, I thought he might down a bottle of pills and just take himself out of the equation...but he never even got close to that point. Life beat the shit out of him. He just got up, dusted himself off, cleaned the poop off his finger, and soldiered on. That's what a man does when faced with adversity.
At some point, you need to take control, regardless of the hopelessness of the situation. If you ever find yourself in such a position. You can give up, sit on your couch, and say "Fuck it." OR, you can get beat down, get back up, and give life the proverbial uppercut to the nuts. Tomorrow is always another day. As long as you have air in your lungs and blood is pumping through your veins...you have the ability to own your destiny. You have the ability to go out and get the job you need, or change your career to something you love. You have the ability to get yourself back on your feet financially. You can be a great parent to your children. Hell, maybe you can even find your true soul mate, as gay as that sounds. Who knows, maybe it can even be the woman you needed to prove yourself to. Maybe she'll move on. It doesn't matter. It's a product of bettering one's self that either she'll see, or someone else will
I'm pulling for my buddy, I really am. I've never seen anyone battle life like he has and continues to do so. I know that if I ever hit rock bottom, the sun will rise every day. New opportunities will present themselves, and when they do, you need to grab them by the balls, squeeze, and not let go until you have what you want.
If you're in the same position as my friend. Don't be a bitch. Be a man. Fuck everyone else. Fuck the entire planet. It's all about you, and what you do with your day. You might not accomplish everything you need to overnight...but you know what, you'll go to sleep tonight, the sun will rise, the new day will begin, and you'll have a fresh start to fight for what you need. It's not hard. Rock bottom is not that bad. Rock bottom is just a great excuse to make yourself the best man you can be.
My point is, sometimes you get poop on your finger. You do your very best to wash it off, but sometimes it really stinks for a while. Eventually, the stench dissipates and you go back to forging your finger ahead into the butthole that is life, hoping that the next time...it comes out clean on the other end. Cause life is shit sometimes. One day you can have it all figured out, and then you go and do something stupid. More likely, you commit a series of shitty mistakes. That, coupled with dumb, blind, shitty luck...and there you have it. Rock bottom.
People can have tough times, even when they have the best intentions. For the most part; however, bad things seem to happen in spurts. For those unlucky enough, when it rains, it pours, as they say. No matter how big your heart is and how much you pour into life and relationships, it might not be enough.
One guy I know was about to turn 30 years old. He had a great job, made a ton of money, had a wife and son, and was even thrown a surprise 30th birthday party with all his friends and family in attendance. He was on top of the mountain. Nothing, in his mind, could go wrong.
One month later, his wife left him and took his son. He moved back with his parents. He had meaningless sex with numerous girls in order to attempt to fill the lonely void of being separated. This poor bastard moved into a shitty apartment by himself and battled with his now ex-wife. They divorced. He was laid off from his job. He got a new job offer, with a great salary, and the position was taken away two days before he was supposed to start. He found out his ex-wife was in a serious relationship; the "new guy" spending more time with his son than he did. His mom was very sick. He had a shitty relationship with his father. His friends started to become distant.
Finally, he met a new woman. He hit it off right away with her. He even went so far as to think they would spend the rest of their lives together. The bond was that strong. The problem was, his life was in such shambles that the new woman, rightfully so, decided that he couldn't handle a relationship until he got back on his feet, and broke it off after a few months. He was evicted from his apartment shortly after. His debt piled up. There were no lucrative job offers on the table. In a nutshell, this guy was fucked.
As my friend's 31st birthday approached, things seemed pretty dim, to say the least. There were two directions he could have gone. Give up, or give it all he had to turn things around. This man, yes MAN, turned things around. He said to me, when I asked him what his plan was, "Vinny....no matter what happens to me and to my life, the sun is going to rise tomorrow. There will be new opportunities. There's only one way to go but up, at this point. I'm a hard worker. I'll find a new place to live, a great job...and maybe, just maybe, things will work out with the perfect girl that I stumbled upon. And if not, I'll move on. Life is going to happen, but only if I take it by the balls."
"The sun is going to rise tomorrow." That really hit home for me. No matter how bad things get in life, the world doesn't care. A new day will begin, and then another, and then another. You could be homeless, alone, and broke....but the world and all it's inhabitants don't give a shit. So you have to make your own way. You have to say, "Ya know what, FUCK YOU. I don't care what you throw at me, I'm gonna be fine. I'm gonna take all this shit, all this bad karma, and use it as fuel to pour on the fire under my ass to make myself better. If that's not being a man, I don't know what is.
I'm inspired by this man, and make no mistake, he is a man. A good man, with a good heart and a relentless sense of bettering himself. He's my inspiration. I thought he would break. I thought he would give up. Shit, I thought he might down a bottle of pills and just take himself out of the equation...but he never even got close to that point. Life beat the shit out of him. He just got up, dusted himself off, cleaned the poop off his finger, and soldiered on. That's what a man does when faced with adversity.
At some point, you need to take control, regardless of the hopelessness of the situation. If you ever find yourself in such a position. You can give up, sit on your couch, and say "Fuck it." OR, you can get beat down, get back up, and give life the proverbial uppercut to the nuts. Tomorrow is always another day. As long as you have air in your lungs and blood is pumping through your veins...you have the ability to own your destiny. You have the ability to go out and get the job you need, or change your career to something you love. You have the ability to get yourself back on your feet financially. You can be a great parent to your children. Hell, maybe you can even find your true soul mate, as gay as that sounds. Who knows, maybe it can even be the woman you needed to prove yourself to. Maybe she'll move on. It doesn't matter. It's a product of bettering one's self that either she'll see, or someone else will
I'm pulling for my buddy, I really am. I've never seen anyone battle life like he has and continues to do so. I know that if I ever hit rock bottom, the sun will rise every day. New opportunities will present themselves, and when they do, you need to grab them by the balls, squeeze, and not let go until you have what you want.
If you're in the same position as my friend. Don't be a bitch. Be a man. Fuck everyone else. Fuck the entire planet. It's all about you, and what you do with your day. You might not accomplish everything you need to overnight...but you know what, you'll go to sleep tonight, the sun will rise, the new day will begin, and you'll have a fresh start to fight for what you need. It's not hard. Rock bottom is not that bad. Rock bottom is just a great excuse to make yourself the best man you can be.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)