This Better Work

The obvious answer to my problems is Craigslist.

http://fortlauderdale.craigslist.org/wan/421534943.html

UPDATE: “Flagged and Removed”. See original post here.

Cruel Fate

Yesterday I went to play 5 on 5 full-court basketball for the first time in over a year. I was really amped. Me and a friend shot around for like 45 minutes while waiting to get into the big game, played some 3 on 3 with some other chumps and everything was working, I mean I was killing it, I was ready to play.

So first play of the game my guy cuts across the lane, gets hit with the ball on the low post and goes up with it. But I’m right up with him and block the shot hard into the glass.

But when I come down I land on the side of my ankle and roll it harder than I can ever remember rolling it, and just like that, I’m done. In the first four seconds of the game, I blocked a shot and then left with a severe ankle sprain. Wow. The box score on that looks incredible.

But the worst part is that this Friday the kickball playoffs begin, and now I can’t play. I can’t even fucking walk, and I’m supposed to be our leadoff hitter.

I am the definitive hack.

And worst of all, when I try to think of other athletes who have pulled up with an injury right when their team needed them most, all I can think of is this, and it’s really, really depressing me:

The Penguin

There is a new-ish dude at my office. He does design and web development stuff. His name is The Penguin.

His hair sticks up because of a lot of gel. And, he is tall, but also sorta portly. He spends a lot of time standing in front of the printer while it makes noises.

He is The Penguin.

Murder LOVES Here

Yesterday I bought ice cream and it tasted nice! Also I didn’t go anywhere near a toilet let alone have any gross stuff happen concerning one!

Times are Tough All Over — Meet Winnie Cooper

Winnie Cooper: you know how when you take a shit at the office, and your dick touches the inside of the toilet seat

Murder: hahahahahahahaha

yeeesssss…

Winnie Cooper: yeah. tough times.

Murder: that’s it?

Winnie Cooper: yeah.

Murder: yeah that sucks man

Winnie Cooper: thats practically having gay sex

Murder: its way too god damn close to it, ill give you that

Winnie Cooper: ima wear a rubber next time

Trey Apparently Still Lives Here

TreyAnstsio (1:38:44 PM): cheese?

Jumpboy5 (1:39:24 PM): TREY!

TreyAnstsio (1:38:56 PM): hello cheese!

TreyAnstsio (1:39:02 PM): long time no talk

TreyAnstsio (1:39:04 PM): TALK

TreyAnstsio (1:39:06 PM): LIKE MY SONG

Jumpboy5 (1:39:49 PM): hah, yeah

TreyAnstsio (1:39:23 PM): so ehh, i mean, what’s been up?

Jumpboy5 (1:40:20 PM): actually, I’m listening to Billy Breathes

Jumpboy5 (1:40:54 PM): I heard about Owen Wilson’s attempted suicide and got kinda sad, and when i go to my sad place I listen to BB.

TreyAnstsio (1:40:26 PM): great, great

Jumpboy5 (1:41:06 PM): Hey Trey.

Jumpboy5 (1:41:11 PM): Can I ask you a question

TreyAnstsio (1:40:41 PM): of course you can cheese

TreyAnstsio (1:40:50 PM): what do you want to know?

Jumpboy5 (1:41:56 PM): Why cant I just replace Page? Everyone knows he’s the one keeping phish apart.

Jumpboy5 (1:42:17 PM): I can do it, just give me one chance

TreyAnstsio (1:41:55 PM): hmm. well, i don’t doubt your talents cheese

Jumpboy5 (1:42:36 PM): okok

TreyAnstsio (1:42:01 PM): but let me answer your question with a story:

Jumpboy5 (1:42:47 PM): ugh…ok

Jumpboy5 (1:42:57 PM): as long as it isnt the story of the gost

Jumpboy5 (1:43:03 PM): is it the story of the ghost?

TreyAnstsio (1:42:17PM): no it is not the story of the ghost 

TreyAnstsio (1:42:29 PM): do you remember when i started that band called Oysterhead after phish broke up the first time?

Jumpboy5 (1:43:13 PM): yeah

TreyAnstsio (1:42:50 PM): and do you remember how i had a huge awesome antler attached to my guitar?

Jumpboy5 (1:43:37 PM): yeah

TreyAnstsio (1:43:32 PM): and do you remember how when i moved my hand away from the antler and then closer to it, it went “waaah wuh wuh wah!  wuh wahh wahh…wuh wuh! wah wawawawa waaaaaaaahh”?

Jumpboy5 (1:44:29 PM): I DO!

TreyAnstsio (1:43:57 PM): yeah!

TreyAnstsio (1:44:01 PM): so

TreyAnstsio (1:44:09 PM): um

TreyAnstsio (1:44:13 PM): how sweet was that right?

Jumpboy5 (1:45:05 PM): so you dont even need Page when you have the spirit antlers?

TreyAnstsio (1:44:31 PM): oh right, page

Jumpboy5 (1:45:12 PM): is that it?

TreyAnstsio (1:44:39 PM): no page is just sort of a squirrely little bitch

Jumpboy5 (1:45:22 PM): oh

Puke Bet Update #6–3:11 PM

THERE IS STILL HOPE FOR MURDER.

AnimalStyle: I just ate. I feel worse. Oh God.

But the day is diminishing. I think this may just be aftershocks of this morning. In all practicality, I think it’s safe to say that AnimalStyle made it.

Puke Bet Update #5–2:12 PM

1:40, my projected boot time, has come and gone.

HOWEVER, my earlier definition of the bet was wrong. Kevin reminded me that the winner is identified as the person who predicts the closest point of vomitage without going over. So if AnimalStyle still tosses cookies before 5 pm, I can still win. But things are not looking good.

Murder: ARE YOU OK?

AnimalStyle: im great. im able to swallow whole pieces of food.

Kevin has gone home due to summer hours, even though he stayed 30 minutes after he had to just to monitor the action. But nothing as of yet seems to phase this girl.

Somehow, AnimalStyle has managed to overcome that which would kill any normal person. She came into this morning like Hurricane Katrina with a .18 blood alcohol level. But now she’s resolving into a tepid squall that is quickly moving offshore. She might even be working right now.

What she’s doing, isn’t human. She herself, isn’t human. She is AnimalStyle.

Puke Bet Update #4–1:08

The last twenty or so minutes were a firestorm of anxiety and suspense. AnimalStyle spent upwards of ten minutes in a prolonged “BRB” state, most of which was spent in the bathroom.

Tension is mounting over here. Kevin’s bid has expired, and if AnimalStyle doesn’t lose it in the next 30 minutes, I’ve gone down too. If that happens, we’re going to re-bid on whether or not she’s going to do it in the remaining 3 hours of the working day.

This is blowing minds. At this point she should be dragging herself across the floor with her fingernails and crying. That she has lasted this long is nothing short of Olympian.

Here is the latest quote from this emerging phenomenon as reported by our man Kevin, out there on the front lines of this thing: “I really am on the verge man. But I can’t.”

It seems psychology is now coming into play, which will only make this more drawn out and painful to the soul as time wears on.

FALSE ALARM!

IT DIDN’T HAPPEN! 

Kevin: is it really over?

AnimalStyle: nope

i gagged

Kevin: damn it!

The heat is still on!