I was just in a stall of my dorm floor's bathroom taking a piss when I looked over at the wall to see the phrase "We love tree" scrawled on the wall in black sharpie marker. I can fairly assume that this was written to advertise a group of person's adoration of marijuana, since it wasn't there previous to 4/20, and I've heard the term "tree" used as a synonym to marijuana on a few occasions, most notably in a Sean Paul song.

Apparently it is true that weed can damage one's brain cells, because even though I am not a pot smoker, I do happen to know without a doubt that weed does not, under any circumstances, grow on trees. It actually has not a thing to do with trees at all...it is grown as a plant. There is a difference between the two: trees have wooden trunks, plants do not. So I do not understand how "tree" became a slang name for pot. It's all very confusing. One time a kid that I really don't know came to my open dorm room, peeked his head in, and said "Hey, are you guys lookin' to buy some tree?" This kid was obviously very cracked out, so I put two and two together, but I really wish that I was witty enough to say something like "Why? It's not even close to arbor day!" Why would you not just say "Would you like to purchase some plant?" It would eliminate a lot of confusion.

After contemplating this, I began to think about a lot of slang terms that people (including myself) use that make absolutely no sense. It's actually very astounding how weird the dialect of teenagers and college students is. The subject that I think most college kids can talk about are terms that have to do with drinking and partying. I'm pretty sure last night I said something like "Dude, I'm so fucking hammered," meaning of course that I was intoxicated to a fairly high degree. If you consider this term, however, drinking and being drunk has absolutely nothing to do with hammers or any other household tools (excluding the occasional employment of a funnel and plastic tubing or a bucket filled with gin, jungle juice, or even ecstasy if you're really good at picking a party). I've also heard people say that they are blitzed, which I'm pretty sure only ever happens to quarterbacks.

There are countless other terms for almost everything that are totally absurd, but I'm going to focus on the one that I felt was the most enigmatic. This is also a term that I am guilty of using often, and probably too much. This would be saying "tits" when something is considered good. Say, theoretically, that Evan hooked up with a girl and told me about it. I would probably reply by saying "That's pretty tits, man."

Now it can be argued that this is actually not a terrible phrase to use, because breasts are considered by most men to be a very good thing. I admit that I like them and I think they are good.

But why do I think this??

Really, think about this: why are boobs good? Why? I've been searching for an answer to this for years. They're really unremarkable. Just these...things with nipples, yet they turn me and most men on. I'm terribly confused by this (and I'm also going very far away from what I was talking about at the beginning of this whole thing), and I'd like to open it up to discussion. If you have a reason why boobs are good, if you can enlighten me on this matter please send me an instant message (smpbball23). I feel like I need to know.

Until then, I will not refer to good things as "tits," and I will absolutely not under any cirumstances call any amount of marijuana a "tree."

Canadia Hates the Pens

It's an exciting time in the Pittsburgh area. The Penguins have secured a playoff berth for the first time since 2001 due majorly to the town's new savior, wonderkid Sidney Crosby. Prior to this, they secured a deal with the city for a new arena so that they could stay where they have been since the beginning of the franchise. People all over the place are rallying behind the Penguins, and the amount of bandwagon fans coming out of the cracks to support their hometown hockey team is astounding. We've got absolute freak power on our side.

The Pens started their playoff competition last night against the Ottawa Senators, who seized home advantage by commencing to mercilessly beat the shit out of a young and inexperienced (as far as playoffs go) Penguins team. Their physical play and absolute early domination made me think of them not as Senators, but more as Spartans. Due to the Pens lack in skill on the defensive side of the puck (I won't name names) the Senators scored back to back goals early in the first period, leaving the inflated Pens and their fans in total shock and dismay, followed by doubt. Conversation in my dorm room between my colleagues and I consisted of a few positive outlooks, but turned more to things such as "What the fuck?! We just beat these guys like...last week," and "Why is this happening?" Cat also contributed a quip that kind of caught how everyone was feeling when he said that "I think Recchi is drunk."

Nothing really went our way the entire game. Sidney scored a goal that would have given us some hope for a comeback...before it was taken away because the officials at the main office in Toronto concluded that he had scored the puck off of his skate in a kicking motion. Toronto is in Canada, just like Ottawa, and just like that our conspiracy theory has begun.

It must be hard for these canucks to accept that a city like Pittsburgh has commandeered two of their three best hockey prospects ever to be born (these two would be Lemieux and Crosby, with the third being Gretzky, who has also relocated to the United States). We've Americanized Sidney and we're taking their game, which I believe has to give them bitter beer face. It'd be like the MLS becoming the premiere soccer league in the entire world. America consists of a bunch of game steelers, and the Canadians are rebelling in their own small way by shaving points from the Yanks in an effort to secure an all-Canadian team Stanley Cup Final.

Or maybe this really wasn't a goal.

Regardless, the home advantage of the Senators astounded me. Their crowd was very much into the game and so was their team. Actually, they sounded not unlike the crowds at the coliseum in the movie "Gladiator." It was all very overwhelming and I can only begin to imagine what some of the Penguins were feeling out there. Crosby is only as old as me, and Jordan Staal is even younger, and both Malkin and Fleury are in their very early 20's. These are kids being put into an extremely intense environment, one that I'm pretty sure I can't deal with. In my opinion, they have it harder than Lebron James, because even though they both play against middle-aged men, in basketball they aren't allowed to hit you and abuse you in the ways that hockey allows.

Anyway, the Pens are going to have to bounce back on Saturday afternoon. They've got to fight fire with fire and they've got to come out pissing some sort of vinegar. It's imperative that they achieve a split in Ottawa before returning to the Steel City to do battle in games three and four, or it could spell an early and abrupt end for the baby Pens. I have faith that they will show some resilience, and I'm looking for a big game out of Malkin, who has all but disappeared from the action as of late, and I'm also looking to the beastly Laraque to throw his body around and take care of his responsibility, which is basically Sidney Crosby. They need to enhance their intimidation factor. I'm also looking for Crosby to do two things: 1) have a huge game and give the world what they've been waiting for...a for real bona fide prodigy, and 2) say the word "fuck" on camera. He's going to do the latter for sure, because, well, he does that every game.

The only motivation they need to win is that they get to come home, and the more games that they win in succession, the less amount of time they will have to stay in Canada, or more specifically Ottawa, where the people may begin to snarl at them like rabid wolves and exact their revenge on us for stealing their boy.

Well, if Winter Ends.

It's hard not to be cynical about certain things lately, and I think I know why: the fucking weather sucks. It is almost the middle of April and there is snow on the ground in Pennsylvania. It snowed yesterday on Easter, and it did not snow on Christmas this year.

There is something deeply wrong with this, and the only consolation that I can get from any of it is knowing that Al Gore's theories on global warming have pretty effectively been shot to shit. All of this proves that the dude has no idea what he is talking about. We all freaked out and thought he was some kind of sage when it was warm around Christmas this year, but now doubt is--and should be--shown when it is snowing in April.

I don't think that there is any logic to it, and I don't think that the planet is in any real kind of trouble. I just think that Mother Nature (or whoever is in charge of weather patterns) is pissed at us or is just getting a huge kick out of all of this.

All I know is that I hope this comes to a stop, and soon, because this type of weather does nothin for people's moods. The Pirates had their opening day today in sub 40 degree temperatures, so fans sat in their bleachers in winter coats equipped with handwarmers and mittens to cheer on their home team at the start of the season. This can piss people off extremely, and I'm sure it caused some normally loyal fans to altogether skip the game.

Like Pirate fans don't have enough to be pissed about already. Throw in cold weather and there is bound to be some sort of mutiny before long.

Normally in April people are just happy to be able to go outside after a long winter and sort of enjoy themselves. The sun sets later, and there's that unmistakable smell of spring in the air that for some reason really gets the masses going. This isn't happening this year. You see a lot of scowls outside, and I'm still seeing winter coats made by The North Face everywhere I fucking go. It's depressing.

Well, at least I've been stuck inside for the last two weeks doing battle with a serious case of mono, so if there had been good weather, I wouldn't have enjoyed it anyway.

All of this made no sense, if you're mad that I wasted your time you get one (1) free spleen shot.

Be Kind, Rewind

There's a certain plague that has ruined the life of many, and attempted to sabatoge a great number of positive potential-filled people. It has shackled many to their pasts, and tortured them beyond any fathomable extent. This has happened because these victims were unknowably weak; this happened because they let it.

What has happened is the indulgence in regret, the emotional and psychological equivalent of quicksand.

We've all made mistakes. This is common knowledge, and I'm sure that many of you are inherently like me and have been--and continue to be--haunted by the repercussions and consequences of the mistakes, whatever they may be.

This is, I've discovered, no good way to live. Mistakes are made, and more often than not they cannot be remedied. They have happened and they are stamped into the insignficant depths of eternity. You can't always get it back.

So, if you have made this mistake, i must ask: why regret it? Why let it consume you and make you miserable? It happened, and all you can do is keep on living, and a goal is to live in happiness, and regret always takes away from happiness. If the regret is allowed to hold your mind captive, then your body is likely to follow. You might start drinking a little bit too much, maybe you'll do some drugs, maybe you'll become an incoherent base head. Your body will deteriorate as these vices chip away at your mental being and overall happiness.

I'm not saying that the past should be forgotten. This is absolutely not the message I'm attempting to put out there. It is OK to remember, and it can be beneficial to lament. Regret does not have to be grouped with these things. Remember, and learn from the mistakes or shortcomings that have previously wrecked you, and sent you to bed with tears in your eyes only to dominate your dreams until you wake up in a cold sweat searching with desperate bloodshot eyes for your crack pipe. Use these memories. Fight off your demons, as it were. Learn not to repeat earlier moments of foolishness.

This is easier said than done, but I try, (and I have no idea why I am writing this right now, odd topic choice) and the realization that regret is only a waste of time and smiles is one that I can't believe I did not make before. I've had an epiphany.

Learn, learn, learn, all the time from your past, but don't ever allow it to consume you. Second chances are rare, but they do come, and they're going to come whether you live your life in a torturous rage because you broke up with a girl in the 9th grade, or because you're living your life happily and purposefully.

A Brief Explanation and Examination of the Man-Crush

There is a term that has gained immense popularity among the males of this great country that some of my friends and me have been throwing around and for roughly two years; I believe that this makes me an expert on the subject. The aformentioned term is "Man-Crush". Every guy has got at least one man-crush, but most are very hesitant to admit this. This is not how I go about it, and many of my friends readily admit that they have various man-crushes, and we have had some very enlightening conversation about who they are and why they have been elevated to such an elite status.

I guess I should give a definition of a man-crush, to prevent confusion (especially among any females that might stumble across this):

Man-Crush: noun(I think?). A male that is admired extremely by one or more creatures of the same sex, but not in a sexual way.
Synonym: Idol. Antonym: David Hasselhoff
Sentence: Adam Brody is one of Bryan's man-crushes, and reasonably so.

A common misconception concerning the element of the man-crush is that the attraction to the celebrity or athlete (a man-crush tends to fall into one of these categories...it is a severe rarity for men to crush on their peers...we call that straight-up homosexuality) is inherently sexual. Allow me to clear this up and state for the record that it is not about that at all. These men simply idolize another man, and are in a sort of way jealous of this man and his lifestyle. It is because of this good-natured jealousy (if such a thing can exist) that these ordinary guys attempt to act or be like their chosen man-crush(es). They may start imitating their crush's mannerisms, hobbies, or styles.

For instance, if someone for some odd reason would consider Chad Kroeger (lead singer of Nickelback...who I hate) their man-crush, they might attempt to learn how to play the guitar. They might start singing in a very obscure voice, which when I think about it, many lead singers of bands do try to sound like Kroeger. I'm sure you all know what he sounds like, and if anyone wants to contradict my opinion that the singer from Hinder sounds a lot like Kroeger, then I'll probably tell you that you're entitled to your opinion, even if it is wrong. ANYWAY... the man that is crushing on Kroeger would also probably start wearing the types of clothes that he sees Kroeger wearing, or he might even go as far as growing his hair out and making it curly.

This happens, it really does. Anyone that knows me pretty well knows that I really dig Steve Nash. He is without a doubt one of my man-crushes, I can confidently put him in the top three (yeah I have a few...how many do you have?). So, I've dressed like Steve Nash on occasion, I've worn shoes and brands that he has endorsed, I tried to marry a South American chick because he did, and I tried to play basketball like him, though this would never be remotely possible. Maybe the most noticeable thing that I tried to imitate from Steve Nash was his hair. Last year I grew my hair out to a ridiculously long length, and it may have been the worst style choice of my haircut career since the fourth grade when I opted for a sleek and sexy bowl cut. I didn't care how it looked though, or that other people didn't like it, because it was like Steve Nash, and he was a man that had achieved a type of success that I was extremely jealous of and I took from him what I could so that I could somehow be a little bit like him.

Now you might think that I'm the only person that is like this, and that no one else really has man-crushes except me and my stupid friends, but I can present one man that may be the lead man-crush vote getter of all time: Will Ferrell. He is not the most beautiful man in the world (see that girls? We are not all about looks!), but he is without a doubt one of the funniest. I have never to this day met someone that has said something like "Wow, I really hate that fucking Will Ferrell. He is not funny at all!" Everyone, male and female, seem to really like my boy Will. I know I sure do.

I have heard so many people quote things that Ferrell has said in his skits and movies, but it took one extreme incident for me to really grasp the monopoly that this man had on the man-crush market. It was a late Saturday night, and a bunch of dudes were in my room watching a movie, when I got an instant message link from my big brother to check out something on collegehumor.com. I logged on and saw a thirty second commercial that starred Ferrell for the Apple Software Company. Throughout the night and the next morning, my friends and I watched this cartoon probably somewhere around forty times, while watching Talladega Nights. The man is everywhere.

Anyway, there it is. Some stupid rambling about man-crushes because it's Wednesday night and I'm a little bit bored. I hope that you have gained some sort of enlightenment or understanding of the Man-Crush after you've taken the time to read this...

BECAUSE THE MAN-CRUSH IS HERE TO STAY!

Beer, liquor, wine...it all does the same thing to any normal human being. It provides what professionals and what college students simply call "intoxication."

Intoxication is when you have had enough alcoholic beverages to damage your depth perception, emotional reason, and motor skill abilities. This intoxication is something that I have indulged in many, many times; I have, as is expected, indulged in it more so since I have been to college. I can say, without very much honor, that I have become semi-dependent on the comforts that alcohol tends to bring.

I cannot say to you right now that I condone the abuse of alcohol, but I can say that I certainly have abused it, and the many things that come with it. This may make me a bad person, or whatever you may choose to call it, but at this point I am overwhelmingly unaware and unconcerned with what other people may (and do) think of me.''

The point that I am currently writing to prove is that alcohol is not, has not been, and hopefully never will be, the problem that some people claim it to be. I feel that alcohol is not really a problem, it is a temporary solution for the problems that plague us day in and day out.

The previous statement that I have made may lead you to believe that I am some kind of alcoholic, but I can assure you that this is most definitely not true in any way. I can live without booze, and I have. I can go an extended time without it, as I also have. I personally feel that alc ohol gives the normal person a brief reprieve from what they consider their problems.

A person may go a week without drinking at all, especially in college (during a time of exams, quizzes, speeches, etc.) but they may drink on the weekends. These students usually look forward to their weekend, because they can let loose, and they can dismiss the problems that have stressed them and plagued them throughout the demanding college week. These students usually get inexplicably wasted on the weekend, and you could call this bad, but the aforementioned student is usually ready for the classes and obligations that they face on Monday morning. This is in no way problematic...in my opinion it is fairly therapeautic.

What I'm trying to say throughout all of this rambling and nonsense is that alcohol does not solve problems; it delays them for a short (or semi-long amount of time. if you consider a weekend to be a semi-long amount of time) amount of time, and it helps people to cope at times.

You cannot abuse alcohol to the point that it runs your everyday life...that is simply unacceptable. To let some type of beverage do that to you is absolutely terrible, and you may want to seek help.

I'm not advocating the use of alcohol, or maybe I am., in a way. Alcohol can't always be bad. It can help to delay the onsetting problems of one's life, and by putting these problems off, an awful decision can be extremely delayed. Alcohol often gives a reprieve from the daily grind of ordinary and tantalizing problems, which when delayed can help the aforementioned alcohol "abuser" to put off their problems until a more appropriate time...


....Besides...what kind of problem can one possibly fix at 2 in the morning on a Wednesday night??

A Nation Divided

I was thinking about something pretty deeply this evening while I meandered aimlessly through five hours of work at my respective place of employment, and I have come to two conclusions; a) I'm getting very scared, and b) we're all probably fucked.

You see, I work in a grocery store, and I happen to be a cashier. Sometimes, this store is not overwhelmingly busy and I get an opportunity to glance at the covers of a few popular magazines (People, US Weekly, etc.) and the occasional front page of a few local newspapers. Tonight, during a lull in the amazing action, I took a walk over to the newspaper stand and took a look at the front page of the Post Gazette. I'll be honest, I like to say that I'm pretty interested in current events and that I keep up with them, but this hasn't necessarily been the case since I came home for break from school. This is because when I'm there I have access to the New York Times and USA Today for free everyday, and since I aspire to someday be a competent journalist, I check them out. Since I've come home, I've become very lax about what's going on in the world, and I've begun to live in my little hometown bubble again (except for knowing and loving the fact that the Florida Gators are now the National Champs in the two most popular college sports, and that Manchester United tied New Castle yesterday, and that the Pens have dropped two in a row), so I was plenty shocked when I saw the lead article of the paper. It said that President Bush has vocalized his plans for Iraq to the now Democrat led House and Senate.

These plans, as I could have guessed, involve sending more troops to Iraq, so as to wrap up the proceedings there as quickly as possible and then start to bring home the troops. The Democrats are very much against this, hoping to bring home a few troops as soon as possible, as opposed to sending more forces to war.

I can't say that I'm educated enough on all of this (sadly) to have a definitive opinion on what is right and what is wrong, and what should and ultimately will happen. This isn't what I'm writing about right now. What I want to address is the fear that has risen in me at finally realizing that our country is split more or less in half. The Democrats and Republicans can't seem to agree on anything, and this is extremely frightening. We live in the UNITED States of America, not the DIVIDED; this badgering of one party against the other seems to solve very little if anything, and it can't be healthy for the present or the future directions that this country is haphazardly headed in. I know that they call these parties the left and the right for a reason, but aren't both arms linked to one body? We are, last time I checked one nation, and I've heard too many times to count the slogan "United we stand, divided we fall," and if we don't unite on at least some things very soon, things will fall apart, and I really think that Chinua Achebe was trying to say something.

The bottom line is that we are involved in a war, for better or worse, and our involvement has ended many lives, and doubtless by the time something happens, more will be lost. They are being lost for something bigger and more powerful than the elephants and donkeys fierce rivalries and sudden refusals to even compromise.

So, I'm terribly frightened by the current events, and if it wasn't so intriguing, significant and gut-wrenching, I wouldn't follow them...I would just crawl back into my little hometown hole, where it doesn't seem like politics and government are such a battle, and we aren't all unfathomably fucked to somehow suffer the consequences of grown men and women fighting over a sandbox.