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As the title of this post implies, it was an epic week in town on multiple levels. I might have my weeks mixed up, but for the sake of maintaining the epicness hype, it all began Tuesday at Pat's for the Jager Bomb Convention which culminated with a 32-drink showdown amongst seven strangers ... picked to live in a house ... with 9 rice cookers. Find out what happens when people stop being polite start becoming fucking Asian.

Apologies for everyone but the select few that are in on the "fucking Asian" part of this weak attempt at anecdotal comedy. I am moving into a 3,400-square-foot house with 4 other friends, 3 of which are ........





... wait for it ....





fucking Asian.



No, I have nothing against them - I just can't fathom the necessity of having 9 rice cookers. There's a joke in there somewhere but right now I'm more consumed with a girly amaretto on the rocks with a splash of water drink. Yes, I can and just did admit to that.



► Song of the week:

3OH!3 - "Don't Trust Me"





► Softball recap of the week:

As I have probably mentioned previously, I'm on a co-ed softball team that plays Thursday nights. Somehow, we are atop in 1st place with one game remaining over the next two weeks. Not sure how that happened, but it did. We cruised in and out with a bang (that's what she said) while notching a doubleheader sweep. The night was brightly lit in an array of colors which I'm finding more and more to be another key component to keeping me here in Denver.


Linda at the plate:




Tony's turn with Texas Ryan looking on:




Me laying off a high one:




Nancy and I taking a break from giving the 2 fans in attendance a good showing:




The team (another joke is in there somewhere, but I still have a half glass of my girly amaretto with a splash of water drink to finish):




I normally play 3B, but tonight I made a switch to CF which was surprising to say the least. Last I remember playing the outfield, I wasn't that good and couldn't track down a ball to save my life. Somehow, it was opposite night and things changed accordingly and in such a way that drew a fan club out behind the fence. My life suddenly mirrored that of George Costanza ... just for a night:




It all started during batting practice while drinking a beer in the right hand and fitted with a glove in the left. I was standing near edge of the field in center at roughly 270 feet home plate when a fly ball was dropped in 100 feet in front of me. I had to protect the beer as any human with strong beeritarian interests would but while making a sliding basket catch that saw run-slide-catch-run-throw all in one smooth seamless motion. And so the fan club began which is pictured below after the 2nd game along with a team ball signed by everyone:




And yes, we celebrated afterwards. No, we did not try to reach the 40 Jager Bomb plateau:




This is Schnitzel the house dog. No, we haven't eaten her yet, but we've thought about it (another joke is in there somewhere but I now have a glass 1/3 full of a girly amaretto with a splash of water drink that I'm trying to finish so I can move on to bigger and stronger things ......... that's what she said):





► Epic weekend recap of the week:

As I mentioned earlier, I'm moving into a pimp house with 4 other friends, 3 of which own 19% of the entire rice supply in the United States. Including the Bat cave that is the basement, it's 3 stories high, has 4 bathrooms, 3 large living rooms, has every necessary gaming system including N64 and Bond (any college male between the ages of 23 and 33 have lost many girlfriends and failed many exams because of this game), and every fucking channel on demand (splitting everything 5 ways is a great way to go through life). Because of all this, the house has been dubbed "The Black Hole" - once you enter you cannot leave.

But for a night, we did escape The Black Hole unscathed and celebrate one of the roommate's birthdays at Sushi Den.


I now present thee with the family portrait (1st row: Kat, Heman; 2nd row: Ryan (not retarded), Linda; 3rd row: me)






Yes, these pictures are getting framed, and yes, this is our Christmas card for 2008.


Us at Sushi Den:




Me and Nancy:




Remember what I said about Ryan?? I was lying:









After dinner (food was above average, service was horrendous), we headed back to The Black Hole for post-dinner/pre-bar festivities.


Birthday girl gets down to Mark Farina ...




... and shows off our container housing some 80 ping pong balls (fucking Asians):





Eventually, we escaped and headed toward Falling Rock Tap House for some quality beer and extra quality laughs ...


Me with Nancy and Will ("What goes great with red? A little greeeeeeen.")




Ryan and Heman woman hater:




Matt, Nancy, and Ryan:




Matt and Linda with the white guy version of Samuel Jackson in Pulp Fiction:





After many delicious choice beers at the Tap House, we left for the Downtown Tavern which is notorious for being a haven for popped-collar warriors around the world. Luckily, it was dirty laundry night.



Matt with Nancy looking like she's having a good time ....




And here? Not so much, but I pick up the slack:





More shenanigans:




Party foul:




BAM gets down with the Ryans - first with Boston and then with Texas:






Jungle Boogie:





Closing time came and went, and it was back to The Black Hole to continue further into the night.

Click here for the full gallery.




► Quote of the week:

"Here's a good thing to do if you go to a party and you don't know anybody: First take out the garbage. Then go around and collect any extra garbage that people might have, like a crumpled napkin, and take that out too. Pretty soon people will want to meet the busy garbage guy.”

- Jack Handy