So anyway, the other night I finally went to the new Barclays Center where the Brooklyn Nets play. (Soon Islanders too!)

Here’s what it looks like:

At first I thought the place looked kind of cool — but over time I think the design is going downhill in my eyeballs. It didn’t grow on me. It grew… not on me? Whatever. The whole outside is intentionally rusted which I found interesting– then didn’t. And the shape which seemed coolio now looks like a flat tire sticking out of a swamp or something. I don’t dig it. Whatever tho.

I decide to take my nephew to a Nets game for his birthday, right? I looked for tickets well in advance but they were all sold out via Barclays Box Office. But StubHub had thousands and thousands sitting there for double and triple and ten times face value. What the hell with fking ‘StubHub’? What kind of bullshit is this service?

Am I remembering stuff wrong or didn’t it used to be illegal to sell things at more than 10% or 15% face value? Where’d that law go? When did scalping turn so blatantly legal that it’s now the actually ticket buying process itself? When friggin Damone was scalping tickets to Van Halen at Ridgemont High he was like the shady guy with connections! Now the whole thing is shady with connections?! Whatever.

Anyway, the Barclays Center was a pretty impressive place on the inside. All fresh and new. Clean. Lots of concession stands and all that. The Brooklyn Nets was a cool team to see live. It seemed like they’ve been there for a while too with little traditions already built in. The crowd yelling, ‘Brooookk-lyyynnn! Brooook…lynnn!’ When a Brooklyn dude would dunk or whatever. Announcer was funny. Brooklynettes were appropriately Brooklynized. Susan Sarandon in the crowd.

Here’s the annoying part though… (continue reading…)

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Thanks to everyone who participated in the Oscar Pool this year!

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CONGRATS TO LA GEAR!!! You win the grand prize! First and second place are canadians! GO CANADA!

Second place to Rampage (who seems to place every year!)

And Third is Daved in Mantorville, MN! All three of you will be receiving prizes in the mail total! Soon!

Honeymoon pics and final post will be finished asap too! Thanks for patience on that!

Thanks to all who entered! Awesome!

http://www.oddtodd.com/oscars/stats.php

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Sullivan Gets Ready for a Soda Cap Trip

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By the end of the week I had finished my Captain Cook book. Amazing guy. Long story short, he started off a great, brave adventurer. One of the greatest. But in the end, ended up a bit of a dickhead. Exploiting natives. Sloppy seamanship. Greedy. Overall dickishness to the crew.

Captain Cook met his demise at the hands of angry Hawaiians who were simply fed up with his highass douchery. They hit him on the head with a rock and stabbed him like fifty times. Then he was disemboweled and then chucked down a volcano or something. He really was being a cock and sort of deserved it.

(btw he also kept amazing journals that are available here. insanely detailed and weirdly bloggy.

We were glad we had Tuesday Night Entertainnight to mix it up because we gave up on watching Lost days ago. We slogged thru like 14 episodes in and finally admitted we surprisingly weren’t hooked. Sorry Lost people. First season acting is distractingly awful (except for Locke) and the whole thing plays like an messy soap opera. I ended up renaming the show ‘What’s That Guy’s Deal?’

Anyway, we noticed more guests started to arrive at the resort with looks of excitement and adventure. Maybe 10 couples in all now. It was nice to see other people around but I wanted to warn them… Warn them away…

Like: Hey New Fish! Don’t unpack yet! First take a good look at us! Us veterans with the pasty white skin! Sunken eyes! Slumped shoulders! Gnawing on a piece of stale bread at lunch! Meet our crippled bird! That’s our friend! Crutchie! Take a look what’s become of us!! You think the wife is rocking back and forth knees to chest and mumbling because she’s happy?! She’s recovering from the massage at the spa! I saw a frenchman’s dick! Go back! (continue reading…)

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We woke up on a drizzly Monday morning psyched we each had something to do. I arranged to scuba dive and the wife scheduled a massage/manicure situation at the ‘spa’. We agree to meet by the pool when we’re done.

I show up at the diving shack at 10AM and meet Phillipe Pierre or Jacques Francoise or Jacques Phillipe or something. Whatever. A French frogman. My dive guide. He didn’t seem all that happy to be taking only one tourist out. I’m thinking when it’s not the rainy season he probably brings em out by the boatload. But on this rainy Monday it was just me and him.

I told him I’d only been diving once before like 20 years ago in Barbados but back then it was just some rummy guy who only went down like 10 feet. He whatevers my story and hands me a damp wetsuit (short pants) and tells me to try it on. I ask him if I should wear my bathing suit underneath and he tells me I can do what I want.

I decided to keep my red baggy bathing suit on because I didn’t like the idea that I’d be laying my naked nuts down in some “wet” suit where some dude the day before had his naked nuts and since he did that it’s just been hung up damp all stray pubes or whatever hanging out ew. (continue reading…)

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