Conspiracy Theory of the Worst Kind

So it’s my friend’s birthday today. It is a day that is anticipated and celebrated, by at least one person, every year. A day that would be respected and commemorated anywhere in the world. A day of old memories and new beginnings. A day that was randomly pulled from a hat.

When someone tells me it’s their birthday, I’m always kind of suspicious. I’m thinking, “Prove it.” Lets be honest. We’ve all gone to Applebee’s and claimed it’s our birthday for a sweet-action blondie brownie a la mode. But when they pull out their drivers license (or even their birth certificate), to me it’s just a plastic card with some numbers on it. Antics like this are pulled off every day.

1) Kids with fake ID’s. Ex: Teenager Zack Morris sneaking into a club to be with his ‘college-aged’ girlfriend.

2) Kids with fake ID’s. Ex: High schoolers getting booze for a party.

And did I mention…

3) Kids with fake ID’s. Ex: Little Chinese girls running and jumping after shiny, sparkly things.

Think about this for a second. Does anyone remember that ‘first’ day in the hospital? If they tell you they do, they’re lying. I can hardly remember Jr. High, let alone those first moments in my parents’ arms. So the next thing I know, I’m a six year old being forced to memorize my ABC’s, my name, and my birthday, all while trying not to spill my Superman lunchbox while chasing after the morning bus. (I actually carried my lunch in a brown paper bag that my mom stapled shut so the food wouldn’t fall out. But that’s beside the point.)

Who is she to tell me when my birthday is? Just because she left notes in my lunches and tied my hood on really tight doesn’t mean she knows when my birthday is… does it? I mean, she was there. Supposedly.

The bottom line is: no one really knows. It can’t be proven. I can’t just cut my friend in half and count how many rings he has. Mom can say she had that child. But did she really? Babies could’ve been mixed and matched in the maternity ward. The doctor could’ve written random dates on that birth certificate... if he was really a doctor. Dad could’ve taped someone else in labor.

So to my friend I say, Happy Theoretical Birthday.

One month 'till sanity returns...

(This is a slightly serious e-mail to my cousin who is an avid Jazz fan...)

So I just found out the Suns picked up your favorite player from the free agency pond. Matt Barnes from Golden State. The dude is a hustler! And seeing as how Grant Hill isn't the most dependable anymore… I think Barnes is a really good pick up. Especially if you think about him and Raja Bell D-ing up the opposition. If they can get Dragic from Europe to back up ol' Steve, I think they might be legit. (I used to be legit. In fact I was too legit. I was too legit to quit. But now, I'm not legit. You could say I'm unlegit. And now, I must quit.)

You know, the Suns have made some serious strides to make a run in the playoffs this year… what about the Jazz? Who'd they get to improve their team? Brevin Knight? Are you serious? Unless Okur has seriously worked on his layups during this offseason, I'm afraid the Jazz are going to end up worse off than last year. D-Will can only do so much… and Boozer has a LOT to prove after last years melt-down (not to mention the disappointing showing during the Olympics)… So yeah… just wondering your take… Oh and bring on Oct 9!

I really hope my teacher HAS to read this.

Congratulations to me for creating a blog. I was hoping that my wife would be the blogger of the family. But seeing as how she hasn't met me yet (aka I'm still single and living the dream) and that this is worth like 75 percent of my grade for class... I basically got suckered into doing something I would have rather not. Kind of like dance class and piano lessons. In other words... Enjoy. :)

So I told my friend Josh that I was 'ailing from a condition known as foosbackdeathedness'. He then asked me what foosbackdeathedness is. I was surprised he didn't know. This was my response: (and if you notice Josh spelled with an H thats okay... just a nickname)

I'm glad you asked Hosh. With symptoms that have puzzled health professionals for years, foosbackdeathedness has now been labeled by various doctors and surgeons around the world as "The most overrated disease known to mankind". Some even suggest it's not even a disease at all... just 'lower back pain' caused by playing three hours of ridiculous foosball. But as one who currently suffers from foosbackdeathedness I can tell you that if anything compares to ebola, this is it.

And to prove this blog really will be about nothing... Exibit A: a conversation with a classmate.


Bailey- My American Gladiator name is Death. Try and beat Death. Try.
Bart- Have you ever met Resurrection. He's one tough cookie in 'Assault'.
Bailey-but the thing is..he hasnt come yet. so for right now, im numba 1.
Bart-yes, he has
Bailey-not the 2nd time
Bart-so... people are still resurrected
he came the first time, he will come the second time, and he will be the ultimate champion
Plus, after he gets done with you, you wont exist
Bailey-i dont think you care that much about whatever it is im talking about as long as you make me lose lol
Bart-no but really... you said try and beat death... well death can be beaten
Bailey-fine.
Bart-its like paper scissors rock... but like ultimate paper scissors rock... so it would be called death--jesus--ressurrection
Bailey-do you think i dont know these things?
Bart-death kills jesus, jesus creates ressurrection, ressurrection obliterates death
Bailey-congratulations for beating death