diary of a crumpler

A couple weeks ago, after New England’s decisive defeat (48-27) of the Dallas Cowboys I received a snide e-mail from Pain, who is:

A) A Redskins fan
B) A Tom Brady fantasy football owner
and
c) The guy who was actually playing me, that week, in the company fantasy football league.
and also
D) Evidentially the type of guy to employ the use of a work related subject line to ‘trick’ me into opening said snide e-mail message instead of just deleting it.

So after Washington’s 52-7 abortion Sunday I thought about sending a spiteful reply to his original message detailing the loss: New England’s quarterbacks RAN IN an amazing THREE touchdowns and Tom Brady matched THOSE three rushing touchdowns with three, actual, touchdown passes.  Simple, LRX math would tell you NE QBs accounted for SIX touchdowns in the game, which, incidentally, is the SAME amount of touchdowns that Washington’s starting QB, Jason Campbell, has generated throughout SEVEN games this season.

But I didn’t.
I took the high road, kinda, instead choosing to send a generic, one-line ‘F the Patriots’ note, also thinly veiled as a work-related e-mail, with his original sneer attached below.

Don’t get me wrong:
I’m not looking for a pat on the back for my sportsmanship here, it’s really more of a situation where this guy, as my boss’s boss, has access to my employee file, computer, desk, and just about anything he wants to get his hands on while I’m out of town on business travel approximately fifteen times a year.  And he’s a vindictive fucker, too!
So i pretty much decided to not rub it in, for certain knowledge that he’d either paint my cube Barbie pink, try to exploit any weakness in the feeble security i’ve set up on my work desktop and group policy edit my machine to lock down a burgundy and gold themed desktop, or worse.  Probably much worse.

Anyway, he replied within fifteen minutes or so, with the typical, I didn’t expect to win, low expectations, and etc kind of grumble you only hear when folks truly realize their team has been bested.  he also brought up an interesting question – If the Washington defense is rated in the top 5, yet got kissing-your-cousin-at-a-family-reunion- embarrassed, who.
Can.
Stop them?

Not Indianapolis:
The NFL’s current champion and only other still undefeated team.  Indy has won 11 straight at home (where they play Sunday) and 12 straight overall.
Next week the Pats are going to make the Colts look like a JV squad, run the score up to something approaching ungodly,  go for it and succeed on fourth and a million and then, THEN belichick will personally punch tony dungy in the mouth.  Prolly call him a pussy too.

Certainly no mere football team can content with the Patriots in their current state:  I doubt even an all pro team made up of the very best in the game would be able to beat the Patriots, without at least a few months (shit, years?) of studying them.

I have the only solution:

Move the team:  Let’s move the New England Patriots to Old England.  Screw New England, Current excellence in sports permeates the Boston area like so much chowdah, with the Red Sox, Boston College and the Celtics promising so much (off season moves), no city, make that, no region in the US is so rich with sports fortune at the moment.  So let’s even it up a bit.  The NFL just played it’s first game ‘across the pond’ in the land of the jolly old union jack. 
Let’s see how well Brady finds Moss in a London fog.
The only Jet that could beat these Patriots would be jetlag.

this is how my job works:

day 1: 

wake up early as fuck,

carry heavy ass bag(s) downstairs to car in the:
a)middle of the night
b)pitch dark

while trying to avoid waking
a)sleeping girlfriend
b)sleeping roommate
c)asian canines – as, if awoken, they will invaribly cause me to trip down stairs while carrying bags, potentially seriously injuring both themselves and myself AND waking both sleeping girlfriend and sleeping roommate. 

drive approx 50 miles to airport
     while trying to:
     a) stay awake
     b) NOT get another speeding ticket
     c) avoid getting hit by drunk drivers as they and vampires are the only creatures awake at this hour.
     d) run through my equipment checklist one more time mentally to make sure i’ve shipped everything I’ll need on site. 

ah, Dulles airport, where I will wait in long lines at 
a) airline ticketing counter (LA MOSTRADOR DE LA LINEA AREA!!!!!)
b) security checkpoint
c) gateafter which i’ll board the plane, invariably to sit next to some swamp donkey/smelly old person/creepy angst ridden teenage type/some other person of similar social standing and vileness.

and fly across the country while
a) trying to sleep or
b) trying to listen to DESTROYED iPod (long story – another blog) or
c) read

i’ll eventually arrive in destination city, USA.  i’ll ride subway/star wars-esque bus thingie/whatever to baggage claim to pick up suitcase and garmet bag which accumulate more scars with every trip.  (i’m actually eagerly awaiting the day where my bags explode and the conveyer belts eat my clothes, allowing me to replace 1/4 of my existing wardrobe with my Spargo card.  i’m going to be dressin’ like a pro football player heading out for victory shots.  eat your fucking heart out tom brady.  i’m gonna make you look like a 1950’s vaccum cleaner salesman.  but i digress…)

at which point in time i will attempt to get a cab that takes American Express – which initially doesn’t seem so bad, but invaribly, proves to be way more difficult than just:
a) getting cash from ATM
b) paying driver Cash
c) requesting and receiving receipt from said driver
and ultimately
d) retaining said receipt, filling out Company Expense Report upon return to the office to get begrudgingly reimbursed approximately a week and a half later.

ride into the city from more rural/suburban airport area while:

a) trying to get as much “local info” out of cabbie as possible (if it’s a place I haven’t visited before)
b) trying to take notice of local landmarks in case this situation turns terribly bad and i’m in the trunk, on my cellphone trying to describe exactly what i passed to lead authorities to where I am.
c) trying to breathe only out of my mouth as taxi cabs invariably smell worse than the inside of my mouth.arrive at hotel to find:
a) they don’t have my reservation
b) my reservation is in someone else’s name
c) guessing the magical “rumplestiltskin” name which my reservation is filed under is more difficult than i originally thought it might be. finally arrive at my room to find:
a) it’s great or
b) it’s sucks or
c) it’s okay
d) and the quality of the room HAS NOTHING in correlation to the price of the room.unpack meager belongings from trashed luggage.
find something to eat that is:
a) gross
b) over priced (seriously $41 for room service Caesar salad and a bowl of soup)

walk/ride cab to convention center to assess sitchu
possibly do some work for random amount of time
leave convention center
arrive at closest watering hole:
drink beer
AND/OR shots
AND/OR cocktails
AND/OR wine
return to hotel
pass out
sleep fitfully

day 2:
awake:
a) hungover
b) thirsty
c) angry
d) wonder how/when i arrived at the hotel the night before
e) shit
f) shower
g) shave
h) dress
stumble to convention center – the smell from the cab would surely make me vomit this morning
pay $4.50 for a bottle of water
pay $7 for a latte
begin hydration and caffination regimen.work for more random hours: if not enough random hours were worked the day previous – then work for several frenzied hours.

leave convention center:
celebrate completion of set up at local watering hole with:
beers
AND/OR shots
AND/OR cocktails
AND/OR wine
return to hotel
pass out
sleep fitfully

day 3:

awake:
a) hungover
b) thirsty
c) angry
d) wonder how/when i arrived at the hotel the night before
f) shower
h) dress

e)shit – this will be accomplished once I arrive at the convention center – because I am arriving two hours early since it is opening day and the regmanager scheduled the temps to come in that early.
g)shave - i am going to shave once every three days, maybe four if i’m a total wreck.  yes i know it looks like shit.  my barnicle stubble will tear your flesh off like a cheese grater.  i am so hungover.

arrive at convention center
swear to regmanager i’ve already cleaned the fucking badge printers (i really haven’t yet, but i really can’t do ANYTHING for at least another hour.)
“I did it yesterday.”
“I don’t remember that!”
“You were too busy… being fat.”
“WHAT?!?”
“i’ll clean the fucking printers… again.”registration opens:
the show beings:
print 11,000 badges.
get yelled at/glared at/stink eyed by people for stuff that isn’t:
a) my fault
b) something i know anything about
c) ultimately of any consequence whatsoever.

day 4:

awake:
a) still drunk
b) i’d drink water from the toilet i’m so thirsty
c) mongoloid like reasoning skills
d) loathing i arrived at the hotel the night before
f) shower
h) dress

the dreaded registration rush is over, but:
i’m here for three more twelve hour days of:

a) intense boredom
b) writing stupid blogs like this one
c) wishing it was friday and i was at home