SamWow's Things: Year In Review 2012.

I'm baaaackkkkkkkk!

So I know I haven't posted in over a month and I have zippy excuses for you, the god's honest truth is I'm slothful, lazy, sluggish, indolent, idle, shiftless, and any other synonyms you can think of that go with that idea, and for that I truly apologize.  Even though I'll never speak to half of you or see your lovely faces (if you're a young lady with a lovely face, hit me up on Twitter/Facebook, information is below), I still feel as though I've let you all down, so this is how I'll make it up to you with The RealSamWow Year in Review 2012!

I was hoping that you read that the same way Oprah says "Oprah's favorite thinggggggggsss!" and all the middle aged women and their husbands go mad, jumping up and down and screaming.  This'll be just as good, maybe.  And if you look under your seat, you'll see the carpet/hardwood/tile or whatever else is under you.  Maybe there's some change in the couch, if so, you're welcome.  Let's start right about now.

The best thing I did in 2012 was (prepare for something on the opposite side of my usual craziness) find out that I have self esteem, confidence, and a bunch of those other qualities that makes someone a functioning adult.  I've learned to stay intact with my emotions and other stuff.  So that's all we'll talk about on that, cuz I don't wanna get all sappy and emotional.  Just know I'm kicking ass and feeling great, so chew on that, haters.

Probably the worst thing I did in 2012 let a lot of friendships fall to the wayside.  I was in a long term(ish) relationship and I put all my energy into that and blew off trips to Blacksburg, College Park, DC, and other places.  It's all my fault that it happened, and it's how I earned my nickname "Flakes", cuz I "always be flakin', Flakes".

Ok, so I just wanted to say the more serious things.  Now I'll dive into the silly, ridiculous, and amazing.

The most embarrassing thing I did in 2012 happened only a few months ago.  I was in Target trying on some new shirts and pants and stuff.  I wrapped up and walked out of the dressing rooms with my coat on and the clothes I was trying on in my hand.  And I realized I wasn't wearing a shirt, like, at all.  I was about twenty paces from the dressing rooms, clothes in hand, coat on, shirtless under.  A few people saw me and kinda gave me a "What da eff" look.

I just hope that somewhere, on a security camera,  your boy SamWow is wondering out of the rooms without a shirt, cuz I would love to see the sheer look of terror/embarassment/and (eventually) the smile and laugh that followed that moment.

I also took a few trips this year, so the prestigious award for best trip I took in 2012 comes down to my week in Bermuda, my couple of days in the Outer Banks, or my weekend in Virginia Tech.  I dunno which to choose, on one hand Bermuda was epic...but let's just say the memory is tainted....the OBX trip was good, but I was only there for a few days...and VT was amaz-balls except when that stuff happened that made it less than epic....and the winner is...the Outer Banks!

My few days in the OBX were packed with #shambles moments.

I spent two days drunk, driving, and hanging out with my lovely cousins.  I also shouldn't put "drunk" right next to "driving", I didn't do that.  I drove down there with my Bro (aka BroBeans) and smoked a cigar and sang "Whiter Shade of Pale", ate multiple burgers from multiple places, and drank multiple drinks full of drink, and smoked cigars with my best friends in the world.  There's also the annual "Cousin Bonding/Heart-to-Heart thing" that seems to come up yearly.  And for the record, I'm posing in the picture, that's not a natural moment.

I was going to do a "best movie of 2012" bit but I don't really remember all the movies I saw (Dark Knight, Hunger Games, uhhh...crap sandwich that's all I got) so instead I'll do a movie I watched a lot in 2012.  The movie was "I, Robot" for like the fourth straight year.  This was a terrible category.

Now I'll do some quick hitters and wrap this thing up...

Best sports moment of 2012 was Joel Ward's game winner against the Bruins.  Amazing night.

Best album purchase of 2012 was Naughty By Nature's Greatest Hits CD.

The thing I drank most of in 2012 that's not water or milk was whiskey, duh.  Beer a close second.

The thing I ate the most of in 2012 was buffalo wings, DUH.  Close second is salad, weird mix.

The drunkest I got in 2012 was probably in Blacksburg, or one of the nights on the Bermuda cruise, or something else all together.  Probably don't remember, I was drunk.

The thing I should have done way before 2012 is date a sportscaster.  Oh.  My.  God.  She was amazing.

The thing(s) I should have done more of in 2012; went to the gym more, eat more crab cakes, and quitting jobs.

That's all I got, this is mostly to get me back to blogging on a somewhat frequent basis so I avoid slipping down the path of crippling delusion, depression, and diarrhea 

See you soon, and Merry Christmas to you all!

Dreams, Part One

I keep a pen and paper next to my bed each night.  Why?  In case I have an awesome idea for a joke or a crazy dream to jot down in the middle of the night.

Sometimes that dream involves me literally stealing hobo's feet (I cut them off...), or me sewing together pairs of shoelaces to make new clothes, or my longest running dream of me chasing a blonde girl through a hardware store (Four years is kinda too long, in my humble opinion).

But I want to talk about the dream I had last night.  It was one of those rare (At least for me) dreams where I woke up really thinking about stuff.  Like life.  And life decisions.

It started off with me sitting on the fishing pier in the Outer Banks (Mile marker 19ish I believe) and I'm just chilling by myself for a bit, staring up at the sunset.  I hear a voice come up from behind and I turn to see a ten year old me walking up and sitting next to me.

This already sounds weird, but I'm gonna tell you anyways.  Cuz I love you, readers.

Where was I?  Oh yeah, we start talking and he's asking if I'm still friends with Michael, Ryan, Joe, Joel, and the other guys and girls.  He asks about what it's like to drive a car, to own video games, and to be six feet tall.  Then the little turd asks about what I'm doing for a job and I froze.

All the jobs I wanted flashed through my mind.  Photographer, firefighter, teacher, comedian, writer, phone man (Like Pop), director, and professional recess, uh, person.  And then I looked to Little SamWow and told him what I do, and he looked so damn sad.  Like, he'd never cry (Cuz I never have, and never will), but he was probably the closest he's ever come to it.

Then I ruined it and woke up in sleep deprived panic.  Like how you see in movies, where like, Jake Gyllenhaal wakes up, sits up, and puts his head in his hands like "Holy damn."  Except, I'm not Jake Gyllenhaal (I'm more of a Seth Rogen type if you listen to the dummies who tell me I look "just like him").  So I write it down after I come to my senses a bit and lay back down in the hopes of having one of those "If I Fall Back Asleep Fast Enough I Can Restart The Dream I Abruptly Ended By Waking Up Like An Idiot".  

Didn't work, like, at all.  Just tossed and turned for a bit before I passed back out and performed my daily morning routine of "Hear Alarm, Curse, Stumble Out Of Bed".

But it made me think, which is something I try to avoid, about what I am doing with my life.  I'm tired of the old "It's a bad job market" excuse and the "financial security" argument I keep making.  It's probably time that I just go ahead with my head held high and find the job I want and that I'll love.

So that's that.  Just had to get that off my chest, even though it's kinda cryptic.  I guess I just wanna say that every once in a while you should go back and talk to your ten year old self, you never know what that might be able to teach you.

SamWow and G-Cruz present -- Surviving Sandy

So at first this was going to be a ten really lame activities you can do to pass time while you're home from work tomorrow but insteadddd my friend the Gina's Blog and I have decided to grace your day with a whole list of storm themed cocktails!  I know I know...we're too kind.  YOU'RE WELCOME.  

Writer's challenge:  Drink all ten during the same storm and then recreate the picture at the end of the post. 

1.  Bye Bye Bahamas (too soon?)

- 1 dash banana Liqueur 

- 1 ounce Redrum 

- 6 ounces of fruit punch (Writer's Choice: Hawaiian Punch)

-1 maraschinos cherry

- 1 pineapple slice

- 1 orange slice

2. Dark and Stormy

- 2 ounces dark rum (Writer's Choice: Myer's)

- 3 ounces ginger beer (Writer's Choice: Saranac)

- 1/2 ounce of lime juice

3.  Mandatory Evacuation

- 2 ounces white rum (Writer's Choice: Railean White rum)

- 4 ounces Sprite

- a splash of grenadine

- lemon/lime wedges for garnish

4.  Tropical Storm

- 1 part banana liqueur

- 2 ounces white rum (Writer's Choice: Railean White rum)

- a splash of grenadine

- 4 ounces of orange juice 

- 1 sliced banana

- 1 cup of crushed ice

5.  The Cold Shower

- 4 ounces club soda

- 1 ounce Creme de Menthe

6.  The Flood Zone

- 2 ounces Kahlua

- 2 ounces Baileys Irish cream

7.  The Downed Power Line

- 1.5 ounces Railean Reserve XO dark rum

- 5 ounces Red Bull

8.  The Hurricane

- 4 ounces of Pat O'Brien's hurricane mix

- 2 ounces spiced rum (Writer's Choice: Captain Morgan)

9.  Category 5

- 1/2 ounce vodka (Writer's Choice: Tito's)

- 1/2 ounce Railean Blue Agave Spirit

- 1/2 Railean White rum

- 1/2 ounce bourbon (Writer's Choice: Maker's Mark)

- 1/2 ounce gin (Writer's Choice: Tanqueray)

- sweet and sour mix 

- splash of fruit juice

10.  Damn the Weather

- 1 tbsp of dry vermouth (Writer's Choice: Tribuno)

- 1 ounce gin (Writer's Choice: Tanqueray)

- tbsp orange juice

- 1 tsp triple sec

Your lovely (sober) authors, stay safe in the storm people.

Letter to my Wife, Part Two

To my wife, Eileen,

So there's something else I need to confess to you.  I was an Orioles fan my whole life, until eight years ago when the Nat's came "back" to town.  This is also my second marriage.  I think the root of it all is that when the Nat's came back to town...well, you're probably more worried about the marriage thing.  I'll talk on that for a while I guess.

Where should I start, well, I guess we'll go way back in the heart of the spring of 2008.  I was bitten and smitten by love, and she was a red head of all things, not a blonde, a redhead.  Let the magnitude of that sink in.

Me and my lady.

So I guess I'll tell you something about her.  Her name is Pam, we lusted after each other for about two years before we said our "I do's", and things moved way to fast.  That much I'm sure of.

I thought I was happy with her, I was smiling all the time, adjusting to my new life and suddenly, on May 18th, I watched her walk down the aisle and onto the stool.  I watched her lift the veil.  Her parents didn't come, I think they might be dead.  Doesn't matter, we weren't married long enough for me to find out.

You see, I "married" Pam Beesly from "The Office" in 2008.  It was another one of my jokes turned reality, cuz when you're a loud mouthed goon, people do these things to you.  They make you pay, always remember that; family is evil at heart.

Me and my lady, and my Grandmommy.

Also, if you couldn't tell by the pictures, the whole thing was a hoax; an elaborate plot.  Or a joke planned by my cousins (Mostly Jay-Breezy, I think) that was carried out to perfection.  And yeah, I'll break it all down....now.

As you can see, since the real Pam Beesly was occupied filming her show, we called up her sister, who looks a lot like a bottle of cooking spray.  My friend Anthony was supposed to be the best man/preacher, but he wanted to go home (...and from what I remember I jokingly said mean things to him about a garden hose), so he left and my cousin Scott officiated.  My replacement best man was a picture of my grade school best friend Andrew (See lapel), and Pam's bridal party was made up of my other cousins.

As far as other family members in the audience, we had my lovely Grandmommy (See picture) and my Mother (Picture unavailable).

After a quick ceremony that involved me kissing a bottle of Pam multiple times while pictures were taken, which is still a hilarious thing to me, we broke off for the reception.

The first of many.

Well, from here on out I think I'll just let the photographs tell the story from here on out with limited word-type interruptions from me.

I'm very sorry Eileen that I didn't tell you about this before, and that Pam is so attractive.  I'm kinda shocked that it didn't the more I think about it, I mean, I am a Carroll man after all.  We're cunning, funny, handsome people brimming with confidence and drive.  And we're just straight up winners, that can handle liquor like champions...Irish champions.

Enjoy the pictures and if you want to see anything else from the wedding, I have name cards and the "flowers" still in my desk drawer in the den, or as I like to call it "The Room with Bearwa Jima".  Enjoy the pictures, and call me, maybe?

Our cake, clearly I'm the gentleman on the left.

This is how weddings feel.

And I guess this was the beginning of the end.

The Accidental...Well, You'll See

If you know me, you probably know I have a knack for saying the right thing, interpreted as the wrong thing in the wrong way at the right time, but meant the right way.  I just re-read that and now I have a headache, but basically what I'm saying is I'm really good at saying one thing and it being taken the wrong way.  Like, really good at it.

I'm the King of bad jokes, terrible timing, pathetic pun-y puns (Get it?), and other things, but I mean well, I really do, please remember this as you read the story I'm about to tell you...

Many of you know I work in Downtown Washington DC for the USDA.  What many of you don't know is that throughout the USDA (And many other government agencies) have shuttles that take workers from place to place all day.  Some weeks, that shuttle is like my office.  I know when it will be late, I know the drivers personally, I know the schedule almost by heart (Which is really easy, it's just at the same two times every hour), and I know that the buses are white (How do I remember all these things?).

What I'm getting at is I have a story about riding the shuttle.  A pretty damn good one, that is if you like stories about me being a clown.  It's around lunch time and I'm standing outside South Building waiting for the shuttle with a bunch of people.

The bus comes, we pile on and we leave South.  I'm all the way in the back with the last open seat next to me.  We get to the first stop and a guy gets on and starts coming back towards me.

Being the outgoing person I am, or try to be, I want to welcome him to the shuttle.  We've been traveling for like half a mile together by this point so we're all practically family, why shouldn't Mr. Suit Guy feel like part of that?  So I rack my brain and I say "Good afternoon, welcome to the back of the bus." and flash him a smile.  In my brain, I'm celebrating, "Way to go, SamWow!  You're like the welcome wagon, they should start calling you SamWelcome!  You've earned a big ole' high five from someone for this!"

As I'm salsa dancing like Victor Cruz in my head, I look up and notice everyone is glaring at me, the lone whitey in the bus.  Then it hits me like a tidal wave.

I'm the only white guy on the bus, well, the only white guy who just made a innocent comment that got taken back to the Civil Rights movement by the nine black people on the bus.  All of the sudden I'm sitting next to Mr. Rosa Parks.  I'm not proud.

But here's the real kicker.  We get to my stop, and I'm the only one who's getting off at Patriot's Plaza III.  The only one, so I had too walk by everyone on the bus who hates me, bumping into a few, brushing against arms and legs on my way off.  When I got to the door, I thanked the driver and closed the door and didn't turn around.

These are the types of things that happen to me, SamWelcome...

Staggering Ubiquity

Trivia question. If I were to ask you what Lamont Sheets swears he invented in the 1960s, would you know the answer?

How about if I asked you what the 1980 Lousiville basketball team made popular? Still don't know?
One last question. Dusty Baker and Glenn Burk (both of Los Angeles Dodgers fame) are often credited for introducing what gesture into Major League Baseball(There is a lot of argument between Lamont Sheets and Baker/Burk over this)?

Did you get it right? If you did, high five! Did you get it wrong? If you did, the answer was the high five. To all three questions. Minds blown.

Clearly, I have a thing for high fives. Some people might say "Uh, hell yeah you have a thing for high fives. You have an article about them on the wall of your office." That's true, it's from "Sports Illustrated" and it's titled "The Methphysical Significance, Staggering Ubiquity, and Sheer Joy of High Fives" written by Chris Ballard.

I have also went to a store where books are free as long as you return them(The sign said "Library") and found actual studies(Now, with science!) that show teams that make more physical contact (i.e. high fives, fist bumps, arm bashes, and hugs) tend to have higher winning percentages.  Insane stuff, insane enough for me to write my college psych paper on the topic.

Below is quot I fell in love with but now I'm not sure if it really works great here.  It should be noted that this post was first drafted on June 3rd, 2011 so I don't remember my idea for the quote but it's still good.  Deal with it haha.

"It shows your brotherhood out there. It's beautiful man, in a way I think it's it's what the game is all about." -- Anonymous quote about high-fives, cuz I can't remember who said it and Google didn't help.  I think it was Chauncy Billups though.

Snap back to reality (Oh, there goes gravity, Oh there goes Rabbit...).  High five's are everywhere in sports, and life in general.  Turn on any Major League Baseball game and watch a guy come into the dugout or out onto the field at the announcing of the lineups, it's a stunning display of elaborate high fives, going under, over, and around, for every guy on the line, there seems to different "handshake" or high five.

The NFL, when players come out onto the field, they run a gauntlet of teammates, both hands out, high fiving everyone on the team before meeting one or two players at the end and going into some crazy "handshake".

The NBA, well, maybe there not really high fives, more like elaborate touching and shimmy-ing all around (Like me on the dance floor, right ladies?).  What I'm saying it's all over sport.  I meant to say sport, it's a word, it works there.  Don't be thinking I made a grammatical error.

Then you can look to the stands at games, strangers high fiving strangers after a goal, touchdown, home run, big play, anything really.  The fans are a community, living and dying together with every moment on the field.

Then there's the out-of-sports high fives, which are what I love to do.  I'll high five anyone from my ninety-two year old Grandmommy or my little baby cousins when I'm teaching them how to "Gimme five", "Slap skin", or "Take the Five train to Slapsville"....wow.  That's what I wrote.

So why do I love high fives?  Well, I love the sound (Try this, get your hand a little bit wet and high five someone with a dry hand for a more epic noise, and some pain), but I think the main reason I love them is they are almost an universal sign of "Hey, you're alright in my book."  You never high five someone you're mad at do you?  No.  You high five people who are in your corner, the teammates on the rec softball team, fellow fans of your team, the guy next to you at Mission Control when you land a Mars rover (Like I said, this post has been in the works for a long time), or the guy at the bar who's leaving with the hottest girl in the joint.

And just one last fun random note, I come from a giant Irish-Catholic family, and I have high-fived everyone innit ("Everyone" being those from 2005 onward) except two, and I'm gunning for them hard.  Need a nice, natural high five.

So this was a years worth of editing and writing....I hope ya'll liked it haha.

Case of the Mondays...on Friday

Morning world, as many of you know from reading my blog and from knowing me, I work in downtown Washington DC and I, like all humans, occasionally have bad days.  This is a quick story about how today started.

I rolled out of bed at the my second alarm and just kinda fumbled around the room grabbing clothes, writing a check, and singing "Jukebox Hero" out loud to myself.  Typical morning, right?

So once I'm dressed, I hop in the car and head to work.  Seeing how I got to where I park about forty five minutes early, I decided I could take a thirty minute rest and listen to the Junkies on the radio for a bit before starting to walk a few blocks to my building.

This is where the bad case of the Mondays comes in and is also kinda the point of this post, if you thought the point of the post was so that you guys could all picture me fumbling around the bedroom shirtless singing Foreigner songs, I appreciate it, but it's really just a nice little introduction and great way to pointless ramble on and on and on.

Some of you who have been reading my blog for a while remember me retelling the story of my favorite member of the Washington DC Homeless Society, "Tony Romo", if you don't, please read the quoted section from my "Gotta Love the WMATA" post...

I've seen "Tony Romo" around the area before, he's usually sitting around the Navy Memorial behind the Archives building, guarding his cart full of needles (there's no needles in his cart...that I can see), sleeping bags, tin foil, and American flags. There's a story behind those flags and I need to hear it in the worst way, but that's not the point.

So I saw "Tony Romo" sitting on a bench near Constitution Avenue throwing some random tooth-sized things at his feet, attracting pigeons who were eating whatever it was. I looked away thinking that he was just feeding pigeons, people feed pigeons, people usually don't do something crazy and drastic when you look back at them feeding pigeons. 

"Tony Romo" did something crazy and drastic.

"Tony Romo" f*cking kicked a pigeon. Like, he pulled his leg back and swung like Adam Vinetari winning a Super Bowl. He drew this pigeon in with malicious intent, I was speechless. All the damn birds could do was scatter all about the place, all I could do is pick my jaw up off the ground and walk by like I didn't just see that happen. I wish I had more words or jokes to sprinkle on top of the ice cream sundae that is the story of pigeon kicking, but I think it sums itself up so damn well I don't want to taint it with more words.

Rocket J. Squirrel, aka "Rocky"

So getting back on topic, I was walking down the block near the "Washington Design Center" blasting Alex Clare's ""Too Close" and just looking around when I see a squirrel that looks really, really, happy.  Why was  Rocket J. Squirrel so happy?

Now, I was just grumpy this morning, I was tired and hungover-ish (Well, I was just straight hungover I think), and I just decided I didn't want any squirrels to be happy on this day.  

So I kept walking, cursing squirrels under my breath, when I notice something.  A pile of peanuts next to a tree that had clearly been placed there by someone who doesn't hate squirrels on Fridays.

So I took them.  I took peanuts from those four legged versions of seagulls.  Am I proud?  Not really.  Did it feel good?  Little bit.  I just threw the peanuts in the garbage and listened to the squirrels weep, or something.  I dunno, when I threw them away the bass dropped on the song and I couldn't hear them.  Am I a bad person?