2010 Boom Tho Shirts Are Available for Pre-Order!
January/21/2010 12:50 PM Filed in: Random
We will have them in by Feb 7th, so go ahead and place an order now and we will notify you when they ship. I’ll also tweet and post when they arrive. Please note that any 2009 and 2008 shirts are either out of stock, or will be available at Reno Bighorns games only.
Check out the 2010 stock below:
Men’s Official 2010 Boom Tho Shirt featured in “R-O-D B-E-N Son!” Also, Mr Boom Tho’s official shirt.

Womens 2010 Boom Tho Shirt:

2010 Boom Tho Tank Top. Trust me, it KILLS the Vegas pool scene.

The Official Boom Tho Bike Hat. Paired with the Tank makes it unstoppably Boom Tho.

Check out the 2010 stock below:
Men’s Official 2010 Boom Tho Shirt featured in “R-O-D B-E-N Son!” Also, Mr Boom Tho’s official shirt.

Womens 2010 Boom Tho Shirt:

2010 Boom Tho Tank Top. Trust me, it KILLS the Vegas pool scene.

The Official Boom Tho Bike Hat. Paired with the Tank makes it unstoppably Boom Tho.

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Vote Boom Tho to the 2010 D-League All Stars
January/11/2010 07:34 PM Filed in: Hoops
New Reno Bighorns TV Ad
January/11/2010 07:33 PM Filed in: Random
The Next Karate Kid (Me and Jackie Chan)
January/01/2010 08:33 AM Filed in: Random
See A Game On ME!
January/01/2010 08:31 AM Filed in: Random
Who's That Gettin Buckets, Boards, and Blocks? R-O-D B-E-N Son!
December/20/2009 10:06 PM Filed in: Random
The Perfect Ad
December/19/2009 10:31 PM Filed in: Random
The Update to Not and Retarded
September/18/2009 05:35 PM Filed in: Random
So, after posting the “Not and Retarded” post last week, I got emails from both of the women in the article.
Hunter, the blonde girl who I didn’t have much of a problem with at all, proved why. She wrote a very sincere apology and to be honest, she didn’t even need to, because she apologized that night. There’s no need to mention her further. She’s not that bad.
Annie, the other one, wasn’t so accepting of the incident. John, the other factor from the evening sent me a text message conversation that he had with her before I got any email. I was ROLLING when I read this. john’s a fool for this. John’s msg’s are in RED. Annie’s are black. This is how it went:
12:02 AM): Who is this?
(12:02 AM): Annie a****le
(12:03 AM): I am pissed at your black friend, you guys are a****les just wait. I will get back at you.
(12:04 AM): I didn't post it. Ur whack anyways. You never hit me back.
(12:06 AM): Gimme my shirt back and we'll talk. Otherwise ur whack in my book
(12:06 AM): Whatever bye. Just because I am busy on the road and I can't reply back I get this? You are all awful and I was right about u and your friends
(12:07 AM): F**k you John! Never contact me again!!!!
(12:08 AM): I'm not trying to ur whack.
(12:08 AM): Have fun on ur broke ass trip
(12:09 AM): Just go away. Do not contact me ever again. You all are dead to me. I liked you and fey but at this point go away!!!
(12:09 AM): Bye asshole. Keep living your closed minded miserable life.
(12:10 AM): No ones tryin to like you! We will succed. U have fun strugglin
(12:10 AM): Glad you fit in to the rest of middle America. It fits you
(12:11 AM): Ur lower america. Stop talking to me. Keep the shirt
(12:11 AM): Bye! Have fun being negative. People w negative and closed minded thoughts never succeed. Keep living "the dream" ps you're not black.
(12:11 AM): Bye.
(12:12 AM): F**k you. Stop texting me
(12:12 AM): Ur a waste of my minutes
(12:15 AM): Deleted.
(12:16 AM): F**k urself
(12:16 AM): stop!!!!!!!!!!
(12:28 AM): I'm not trying to talk to you. I wanted charity the whole time. Please don't text m.e. Ur deal is whack
The next day:
(9:17 AM): I'm going to apologize because I yelled at you before I even re
I'm going to apologize because I yelled at you before I even read the article. Its not your fault and I'm sorry for yelling at you. Your friend is still a very
(9:18 AM): Hateful person but he is allowed to blog whatever he wants but its a shame he is blogging about a story that is one sided and untrue. But in any case I'm sorry
(9:18 AM): And charity can give you back your shirt. You were a gentleman for letting me wear it when I was cold. So thanks, I didn't steal it on purpose.
So I read all of this before getting an email from her the next morning. I was laughing so hard I could hardly breathe. I love how she says “I’m pissed at your black friend.” Mike is also black and besides that John has a ton of black friends. Whatever. It must have been minutes after her last text to John. I’ll just lay out her email, my response (in blue), and her final email:
“Hey, just wanted to know I read your email. I'm not mad, but are allowed to have your own point of views.
Like I said I didn't know those guys and I was not hanging out with them. I was hanging out with John. I still am clueless to know who those guys are.
The thing is, I'm a little hurt that you would say my name and tell people to say mean things to me. I'm not vindictive so I'm not going to retaliate.
And honestly you don't know me and its a shame you have to s**t talk about people before you even know them.
John and I were talking to each other at that point. He gave me his shirt to wear because he was a gentleman. Whatever he said to you about the case is because he was trying to be a man in front of you.
In any case, I enjoyed your blog, I think you are a funny person and I have even supported you and had links to your funny videos on my facebook.
I think its sad that you know none of this and yet you can try to be so hurtful. I was only combative that night because you were combative as well. I know the owner of the club and he was there and he even knows what happened.
With this being said. I call a truce. Let me know if you can be a man and accept that. If not then I'm sorry you feel so much hate in your heart that you had to belittle someone you don't even know.”
Here are some things you must understand:
First, you're right, I don't know you, but it was based on first impressions and John (maybe to not seem so ho-before-bro-ish) was legit mad about his shirt. I can only paint a certain picture if I am only given a few paints.
Secondly, I actually don't have negative emotion towards you. It's not really me to remain vindictive. That being said, that event is extremely funny in retrospect. Does the story vilify you? Yes. Do I say anything that's untrue? No. I tell the story exactly how it happened from our side. If you have a big problem with that, it's only because you truly didn't understand how it looked to us. Now you have a better understanding of how you placed yourself in our minds -- the spark that set the night on fire.
Thirdly, I know you're not apologetic about what happened that night, and neither am I. It is what it is -- a funny story with a funny antagonist and a lame result. I didn't even think about you, or that night, until I was beginning to write about my L.A. experience, of which you were the first of many. I am willing to call a "truce," but understand that implies that there is some sort of battle and I'm not battling anyone. I'm just, quite unapologetically, recounting a night exactly how it happened, and expecting to never hear from you again, told people (like I always do) to come at you. It worked, now here you are.
Anyways, when you sent me this email I was more ready to be kind and rewind, so to speak, but then John sent me a text conversation that claimed you were going to come at me. That's all good and fine, if you want, I guess. Do what you like. I will publicly accept your truce on my site, so people know to stop coming at you, but I will show them how the truce came to pass: you asked, I read a text convo between you and John, then accepted, still. Why? Because it's still all incredibly funny and good fodder. Hopefully you can see it the same way, because I have driven people to your site, and our little "truce" will only drive you MORE traffic. Take that as a sign of my lightheartedness about the situation.
Rod Benson
... And BOOM goes the dynamite!
Ok I'm not mad as I said about any of that. What I'm mad is that you try to get your friends to say shit to me which in my own opinion is childish. Also when I sent those texts to John I hadn't even read the article and I was drunk. So all I heard is really bad stuff so I went off on John. Also, John is trying to act hard in front of you. He tries to act mad about his shirt because he knows you have ill feelings toward me. I have told many times I would give it back to him and he has never followed through so I guess he's not that mad about the shirt. Why would I want the shirt? Its twenty times too big for me? Also this is after many poems John sent to me after that night and him repeatedly begging to take me out and saying that you guys are nothing. I have zero respect for someone that can throw their friends under the bus to get a girl then go talk s**t about the girl to his friends that he just said awful things about.
Anyway. This is between you and I. I don't care about the article that's up on your site. Just please take down the part about me being on facebook and to come at me. And until you have a better understanding of someone, who they are, and what they aim to be... I would try to be a little less judgemental. Because in all reality, I'm not the girl you painted me out to be.
Thanks for writing me back. No hard feelings.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now it all comes out in the wash. John was saving. Hard. I told him I resuscitate parties, but I don’t save ho’s. True story. Maybe she was so fired up because she had a thing with John or whatever, but still, this whole event makes her look sillier than anyone.
Still, I made a promise and I am keeping it. This is the official truce. If you see her on the streets, on Facebook, MySpace, or whatever, DO NOT ANTAGONIZE HER. She made her best apology attempt and, I guess, it’s in the past and I’m not trippin. Once again, however, remember that this could happen to you if you choose to party in LALA Land. Keep a watchful eye, my friends, and stay mad boom tho!
Hunter, the blonde girl who I didn’t have much of a problem with at all, proved why. She wrote a very sincere apology and to be honest, she didn’t even need to, because she apologized that night. There’s no need to mention her further. She’s not that bad.
Annie, the other one, wasn’t so accepting of the incident. John, the other factor from the evening sent me a text message conversation that he had with her before I got any email. I was ROLLING when I read this. john’s a fool for this. John’s msg’s are in RED. Annie’s are black. This is how it went:
12:02 AM): Who is this?
(12:02 AM): Annie a****le
(12:03 AM): I am pissed at your black friend, you guys are a****les just wait. I will get back at you.
(12:04 AM): I didn't post it. Ur whack anyways. You never hit me back.
(12:06 AM): Gimme my shirt back and we'll talk. Otherwise ur whack in my book
(12:06 AM): Whatever bye. Just because I am busy on the road and I can't reply back I get this? You are all awful and I was right about u and your friends
(12:07 AM): F**k you John! Never contact me again!!!!
(12:08 AM): I'm not trying to ur whack.
(12:08 AM): Have fun on ur broke ass trip
(12:09 AM): Just go away. Do not contact me ever again. You all are dead to me. I liked you and fey but at this point go away!!!
(12:09 AM): Bye asshole. Keep living your closed minded miserable life.
(12:10 AM): No ones tryin to like you! We will succed. U have fun strugglin
(12:10 AM): Glad you fit in to the rest of middle America. It fits you
(12:11 AM): Ur lower america. Stop talking to me. Keep the shirt
(12:11 AM): Bye! Have fun being negative. People w negative and closed minded thoughts never succeed. Keep living "the dream" ps you're not black.
(12:11 AM): Bye.
(12:12 AM): F**k you. Stop texting me
(12:12 AM): Ur a waste of my minutes
(12:15 AM): Deleted.
(12:16 AM): F**k urself
(12:16 AM): stop!!!!!!!!!!
(12:28 AM): I'm not trying to talk to you. I wanted charity the whole time. Please don't text m.e. Ur deal is whack
The next day:
(9:17 AM): I'm going to apologize because I yelled at you before I even re
I'm going to apologize because I yelled at you before I even read the article. Its not your fault and I'm sorry for yelling at you. Your friend is still a very
(9:18 AM): Hateful person but he is allowed to blog whatever he wants but its a shame he is blogging about a story that is one sided and untrue. But in any case I'm sorry
(9:18 AM): And charity can give you back your shirt. You were a gentleman for letting me wear it when I was cold. So thanks, I didn't steal it on purpose.
So I read all of this before getting an email from her the next morning. I was laughing so hard I could hardly breathe. I love how she says “I’m pissed at your black friend.” Mike is also black and besides that John has a ton of black friends. Whatever. It must have been minutes after her last text to John. I’ll just lay out her email, my response (in blue), and her final email:
“Hey, just wanted to know I read your email. I'm not mad, but are allowed to have your own point of views.
Like I said I didn't know those guys and I was not hanging out with them. I was hanging out with John. I still am clueless to know who those guys are.
The thing is, I'm a little hurt that you would say my name and tell people to say mean things to me. I'm not vindictive so I'm not going to retaliate.
And honestly you don't know me and its a shame you have to s**t talk about people before you even know them.
John and I were talking to each other at that point. He gave me his shirt to wear because he was a gentleman. Whatever he said to you about the case is because he was trying to be a man in front of you.
In any case, I enjoyed your blog, I think you are a funny person and I have even supported you and had links to your funny videos on my facebook.
I think its sad that you know none of this and yet you can try to be so hurtful. I was only combative that night because you were combative as well. I know the owner of the club and he was there and he even knows what happened.
With this being said. I call a truce. Let me know if you can be a man and accept that. If not then I'm sorry you feel so much hate in your heart that you had to belittle someone you don't even know.”
Here are some things you must understand:
First, you're right, I don't know you, but it was based on first impressions and John (maybe to not seem so ho-before-bro-ish) was legit mad about his shirt. I can only paint a certain picture if I am only given a few paints.
Secondly, I actually don't have negative emotion towards you. It's not really me to remain vindictive. That being said, that event is extremely funny in retrospect. Does the story vilify you? Yes. Do I say anything that's untrue? No. I tell the story exactly how it happened from our side. If you have a big problem with that, it's only because you truly didn't understand how it looked to us. Now you have a better understanding of how you placed yourself in our minds -- the spark that set the night on fire.
Thirdly, I know you're not apologetic about what happened that night, and neither am I. It is what it is -- a funny story with a funny antagonist and a lame result. I didn't even think about you, or that night, until I was beginning to write about my L.A. experience, of which you were the first of many. I am willing to call a "truce," but understand that implies that there is some sort of battle and I'm not battling anyone. I'm just, quite unapologetically, recounting a night exactly how it happened, and expecting to never hear from you again, told people (like I always do) to come at you. It worked, now here you are.
Anyways, when you sent me this email I was more ready to be kind and rewind, so to speak, but then John sent me a text conversation that claimed you were going to come at me. That's all good and fine, if you want, I guess. Do what you like. I will publicly accept your truce on my site, so people know to stop coming at you, but I will show them how the truce came to pass: you asked, I read a text convo between you and John, then accepted, still. Why? Because it's still all incredibly funny and good fodder. Hopefully you can see it the same way, because I have driven people to your site, and our little "truce" will only drive you MORE traffic. Take that as a sign of my lightheartedness about the situation.
Rod Benson
... And BOOM goes the dynamite!
Ok I'm not mad as I said about any of that. What I'm mad is that you try to get your friends to say shit to me which in my own opinion is childish. Also when I sent those texts to John I hadn't even read the article and I was drunk. So all I heard is really bad stuff so I went off on John. Also, John is trying to act hard in front of you. He tries to act mad about his shirt because he knows you have ill feelings toward me. I have told many times I would give it back to him and he has never followed through so I guess he's not that mad about the shirt. Why would I want the shirt? Its twenty times too big for me? Also this is after many poems John sent to me after that night and him repeatedly begging to take me out and saying that you guys are nothing. I have zero respect for someone that can throw their friends under the bus to get a girl then go talk s**t about the girl to his friends that he just said awful things about.
Anyway. This is between you and I. I don't care about the article that's up on your site. Just please take down the part about me being on facebook and to come at me. And until you have a better understanding of someone, who they are, and what they aim to be... I would try to be a little less judgemental. Because in all reality, I'm not the girl you painted me out to be.
Thanks for writing me back. No hard feelings.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now it all comes out in the wash. John was saving. Hard. I told him I resuscitate parties, but I don’t save ho’s. True story. Maybe she was so fired up because she had a thing with John or whatever, but still, this whole event makes her look sillier than anyone.
Still, I made a promise and I am keeping it. This is the official truce. If you see her on the streets, on Facebook, MySpace, or whatever, DO NOT ANTAGONIZE HER. She made her best apology attempt and, I guess, it’s in the past and I’m not trippin. Once again, however, remember that this could happen to you if you choose to party in LALA Land. Keep a watchful eye, my friends, and stay mad boom tho!
The Message 2
September/18/2009 05:32 PM Filed in: Message
| Once again, this is not written by me, it just gets sent to me every Sunday, and I thought I would share because it’s very insightful stuff. Maybe even TOO insightful for TMRB, but so what? “What we see depends mainly on what we look for” |
Boom Tho: The Mixtape!
September/11/2009 01:32 AM Filed in: Random
First of all, here’s the newest video, featuring Mike Fey (UCLA 06) and John “Legend” Fieweger:
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Now, you will also need to check out the entire Mixtape and tell me what you think, because I’ll be making videos for these songs and skits all season, so get ready. It’s gonna be fun to just film all year for songs I’ve already done. So, no B.S., here’s 13 songs, skits, and otherwise of straight up BoomThoNess. Peep the cover art too.. Its itunes ready without the 99cents:
Boom Tho: The Mixtape!

>
Now, you will also need to check out the entire Mixtape and tell me what you think, because I’ll be making videos for these songs and skits all season, so get ready. It’s gonna be fun to just film all year for songs I’ve already done. So, no B.S., here’s 13 songs, skits, and otherwise of straight up BoomThoNess. Peep the cover art too.. Its itunes ready without the 99cents:
Boom Tho: The Mixtape!

NOT and Retarded
September/10/2009 06:35 PM Filed in: Random
My first weekend in Hollywood, I was with Mike and John (in case you havent guessed by now, they are definitely my L.A. crew) and we were kickin it at Rand’s house in downtown. I literally went there straight off the plane, met Rand and John, and then went out with them in the wood.
Fey mentioned that we were gonna go to some spot I had never heard of, but I was cool with it because I understand that he always knows what’s up down there. John seemed pretty hyped about it and Rand was more or less along for the ride like me.
Fey and John mentioned that some girls they knew would be filming for their reality show or something like that while we were there, so I was kind of weary about partying on TV, but then I realized that any Boom Tho video pretty much has the same things. These girls had their own blog or something called hot and retarded I warmed up to the idea by the time we arrive.
It was a little spot, kind of tucked away close to an alley way right off the Highland exit of 101 (that only means something to the Hollywood people, I guess). It was actually suspiciously small. When we walked in, it seemed too small to house that many folks, but I’ve been to places like Hyde and that’s pretty small too, but never lacking in Boom-Tho-Ness. We get settled at the far end of the place and quickly decide (since the place is still empty) that we want to get bottle service.
Two bottles, 4 dudes, it seemed all good. We got our party started on our end of this small place. After a few minutes, a couple of girls walk in with bright camera lights following them. Since there were only ten people there, this event caused an obvious scene. John walked over to them to talk about who-knows-what and soon he was back with us, saying that we should head over to them because they needed it to look like the party was crackin for TV purposes.
We all headed over to the other side of the room where there were two dudes none of us knew, and three girls that Mike and John knew. I sat there and played the part. Soon, though, I got over it and went back to my table, but not before snapping this picture with the two ‘TV’ girls:

I know what you’re thinking: damn that Rod Benson is hella Boom Tho! I know. I can’t argue, but this isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Soon after I returned to the table, Mike, John, Rand, and the girls came over. Before I knew it, our two bottles were gone. Nothing wrong with that. The night was progressing just like many other before. Those dudes we didn’t know came over to our table before it was all said and done and I kept to myself mostly, besides my usual “Dance Off” quality moves.
All of a sudden it was closing time. We were the first to arrive and the last to leave, it seemed. Now we were signing off on our check and about to be on our way, but there was a problem.
Our bill had 3 bottles charged to it when we had only consumed two. It was quickly worked out that those two guys we didn’t know had charged one to our table, promised to pay for it, and left. Very classy.
Well the extra 500 had to come from someone. We all turned at looked at these two girls, not because they owed us 500, but because they knew and had invited these dudes. We needed some answers. Problem was, they failed to provide any... At all.
Before we knew it, security was hounding us for the money and we were in the kitchen. All of us were there, including team Hot and Retarded. They said that the money wasn’t their responsibility because they didn’t know the guys. Mike, who’s card was down, was starting to get angry. I told him that I would be the jerk tonight.
I came at the girls hard. I told them that we didn’t know them either (even though they DEFINITELY knew these guys) and that since we all partied together that we should all chip in equally. Security asked that I leave them alone. I asked why. Just because they were female didn’t mean that they weren’t involved and that their money isn’t green.
One of the girls, sensing that I was not about to let this go, started to take a crying tone. She asked that we just leave them alone because they had no money, but that she could give us the guys phone number. That was a good start. The other girl, the one in the right of the pic above, was way more combative. She kept arguing that they didn’t owe anything. That’s when I let her have it.
I told her that no amount of breast implants work double time as brain implants and that she just looked stupid. I then told her that she would pay for this somehow, eventually.
While I was in the middle of berating her, she took off. I had to help Mike work out the bill and then we were off, looking for her. Couldn’t find her anywhere. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find John either.
Come to find out that John is at Mels with her! I guess he was talking to her the whole time. WTF?
We smash over to Mels and I run in. I can’t find either of them. I look in both bathrooms, furious. Still nothing. All of a sudden John’s walkin back towards the car. I’m kinda mad at him but I’m looking for this Spring Break breezy. I don’t call her spring break cuz she’s wild, but because there’s no class.
I can’t find her anywhere. We jump in the car and begin to drive away. I then see her walking out, with 4 new dudes, wearing Johns brand new $150 shirt over her dress. It’s too late to do anything.
I guess I should thank her because she got John, who needed to be got for his actions, and she quickly introduced me to Hollywood’s legal prostitution. Drinks and partying will be on you, no matter what. As long as you’re “Hot and Retarded,” the sky’s the limit in the city of angels. But, I will get the last laugh. Well, maybe you’ll help me. Visit their site, and tell Annie Wonderlich (she’s on FB, too) that she can “Wonderlich my balls.” Thanks Hansel for that.
Oh and I guess they should be called “Broke and Retarded” because they have a DONATIONS page on their blog. How far do they really think they can get, being a group of 7’s? Not even dimes! Coddamn!
Fey mentioned that we were gonna go to some spot I had never heard of, but I was cool with it because I understand that he always knows what’s up down there. John seemed pretty hyped about it and Rand was more or less along for the ride like me.
Fey and John mentioned that some girls they knew would be filming for their reality show or something like that while we were there, so I was kind of weary about partying on TV, but then I realized that any Boom Tho video pretty much has the same things. These girls had their own blog or something called hot and retarded I warmed up to the idea by the time we arrive.
It was a little spot, kind of tucked away close to an alley way right off the Highland exit of 101 (that only means something to the Hollywood people, I guess). It was actually suspiciously small. When we walked in, it seemed too small to house that many folks, but I’ve been to places like Hyde and that’s pretty small too, but never lacking in Boom-Tho-Ness. We get settled at the far end of the place and quickly decide (since the place is still empty) that we want to get bottle service.
Two bottles, 4 dudes, it seemed all good. We got our party started on our end of this small place. After a few minutes, a couple of girls walk in with bright camera lights following them. Since there were only ten people there, this event caused an obvious scene. John walked over to them to talk about who-knows-what and soon he was back with us, saying that we should head over to them because they needed it to look like the party was crackin for TV purposes.
We all headed over to the other side of the room where there were two dudes none of us knew, and three girls that Mike and John knew. I sat there and played the part. Soon, though, I got over it and went back to my table, but not before snapping this picture with the two ‘TV’ girls:

I know what you’re thinking: damn that Rod Benson is hella Boom Tho! I know. I can’t argue, but this isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Soon after I returned to the table, Mike, John, Rand, and the girls came over. Before I knew it, our two bottles were gone. Nothing wrong with that. The night was progressing just like many other before. Those dudes we didn’t know came over to our table before it was all said and done and I kept to myself mostly, besides my usual “Dance Off” quality moves.
All of a sudden it was closing time. We were the first to arrive and the last to leave, it seemed. Now we were signing off on our check and about to be on our way, but there was a problem.
Our bill had 3 bottles charged to it when we had only consumed two. It was quickly worked out that those two guys we didn’t know had charged one to our table, promised to pay for it, and left. Very classy.
Well the extra 500 had to come from someone. We all turned at looked at these two girls, not because they owed us 500, but because they knew and had invited these dudes. We needed some answers. Problem was, they failed to provide any... At all.
Before we knew it, security was hounding us for the money and we were in the kitchen. All of us were there, including team Hot and Retarded. They said that the money wasn’t their responsibility because they didn’t know the guys. Mike, who’s card was down, was starting to get angry. I told him that I would be the jerk tonight.
I came at the girls hard. I told them that we didn’t know them either (even though they DEFINITELY knew these guys) and that since we all partied together that we should all chip in equally. Security asked that I leave them alone. I asked why. Just because they were female didn’t mean that they weren’t involved and that their money isn’t green.
One of the girls, sensing that I was not about to let this go, started to take a crying tone. She asked that we just leave them alone because they had no money, but that she could give us the guys phone number. That was a good start. The other girl, the one in the right of the pic above, was way more combative. She kept arguing that they didn’t owe anything. That’s when I let her have it.
I told her that no amount of breast implants work double time as brain implants and that she just looked stupid. I then told her that she would pay for this somehow, eventually.
While I was in the middle of berating her, she took off. I had to help Mike work out the bill and then we were off, looking for her. Couldn’t find her anywhere. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find John either.
Come to find out that John is at Mels with her! I guess he was talking to her the whole time. WTF?
We smash over to Mels and I run in. I can’t find either of them. I look in both bathrooms, furious. Still nothing. All of a sudden John’s walkin back towards the car. I’m kinda mad at him but I’m looking for this Spring Break breezy. I don’t call her spring break cuz she’s wild, but because there’s no class.
I can’t find her anywhere. We jump in the car and begin to drive away. I then see her walking out, with 4 new dudes, wearing Johns brand new $150 shirt over her dress. It’s too late to do anything.
I guess I should thank her because she got John, who needed to be got for his actions, and she quickly introduced me to Hollywood’s legal prostitution. Drinks and partying will be on you, no matter what. As long as you’re “Hot and Retarded,” the sky’s the limit in the city of angels. But, I will get the last laugh. Well, maybe you’ll help me. Visit their site, and tell Annie Wonderlich (she’s on FB, too) that she can “Wonderlich my balls.” Thanks Hansel for that.
Oh and I guess they should be called “Broke and Retarded” because they have a DONATIONS page on their blog. How far do they really think they can get, being a group of 7’s? Not even dimes! Coddamn!
This is NOT O.K.
September/10/2009 06:33 PM Filed in: Random
This isn’t a very long story at all, it’s just an event that most men would find absolutely repulsive, so I must make you share my pain.
I was at the Mondrain Hotel in Hollywood (I spent most of the last month there), gettin in some pool time on a Saturday afternoon. It was me, Mike Fey, John (the Resuscitation team) and three girls who Mike had invited to come kick it at the pool. What you need to know about expensive Hollywood hotels is that their pools take on a Vegas vibe on the weekends and they turn into party pools. Now that that’s understood, we can move on.
So, like I said, short and sweet. I was in the water with John, and the girls were sitting up on the edge of the pool. All of a sudden the girls look off into the distance and start laughing. They are murmuring something to each other that I can’t really make out, so I ask them what they’re talkin about.
They say that I wouldn’t understand. My narcissistic side disagrees. There’s nothing funny that I couldn’t understand. I keep probing them. FInally they tell me to look as they point towards towards the other side of the pool. My view is something like this:

This view is actually not as good as mine. What you’re seeing here is a screen cap of a video that John tried to make but he got too excited, thinking that he had the shot, when he didn’t. He’s trying to capture what I eventually saw: this girl has a TAMPON string hanging down like 6 inches.
She dances around for about 5 minutes while the girls try to figure out who should tell her. I sit there, grossed out, awaiting some sort of action. Finally, one of the girls walks over and whispers something to her. She looks to her friend, and asks her for help, tucking it away as discretely as possible. But this string was sponsored by Brett Favre, because it was retired three times, and kept coming back. Her friend had to help her tuck that thing away again and again before she finally made a trip to the bathroom.
I think the girls we were with were right. I had no clue how to handle the situation except to nearly throw up into the pool, which still wouldn’t be as gross as being drawn to a dangling string of an ugly, drunken girl. Oh man that was almost as rough as the time a volleyball coach for a team we were playing had a big red stain on the crotch of her white pants. Some things you gotta notice all by yourself.
I was at the Mondrain Hotel in Hollywood (I spent most of the last month there), gettin in some pool time on a Saturday afternoon. It was me, Mike Fey, John (the Resuscitation team) and three girls who Mike had invited to come kick it at the pool. What you need to know about expensive Hollywood hotels is that their pools take on a Vegas vibe on the weekends and they turn into party pools. Now that that’s understood, we can move on.
So, like I said, short and sweet. I was in the water with John, and the girls were sitting up on the edge of the pool. All of a sudden the girls look off into the distance and start laughing. They are murmuring something to each other that I can’t really make out, so I ask them what they’re talkin about.
They say that I wouldn’t understand. My narcissistic side disagrees. There’s nothing funny that I couldn’t understand. I keep probing them. FInally they tell me to look as they point towards towards the other side of the pool. My view is something like this:

This view is actually not as good as mine. What you’re seeing here is a screen cap of a video that John tried to make but he got too excited, thinking that he had the shot, when he didn’t. He’s trying to capture what I eventually saw: this girl has a TAMPON string hanging down like 6 inches.
She dances around for about 5 minutes while the girls try to figure out who should tell her. I sit there, grossed out, awaiting some sort of action. Finally, one of the girls walks over and whispers something to her. She looks to her friend, and asks her for help, tucking it away as discretely as possible. But this string was sponsored by Brett Favre, because it was retired three times, and kept coming back. Her friend had to help her tuck that thing away again and again before she finally made a trip to the bathroom.
I think the girls we were with were right. I had no clue how to handle the situation except to nearly throw up into the pool, which still wouldn’t be as gross as being drawn to a dangling string of an ugly, drunken girl. Oh man that was almost as rough as the time a volleyball coach for a team we were playing had a big red stain on the crotch of her white pants. Some things you gotta notice all by yourself.
The Message
September/10/2009 06:16 PM Filed in: Message
A few weeks ago my buddy Ramy sent me an email forward that I thought was interesting. It was called “Sunday Message,” and every week since, he has been forwarding me these messages that I think are pretty well said and timely for a lot of people. They are written by a buddy of his named Yashar Mehrabani who is a facebooker in case you wanted to look him up.
In an attempt to share and not be the selfish one, I figured I would drop these messages on you as well so you can feel the love as well. So, enough of me, more message:
“Accelerate your life to slow motion.”
In the immortal words of my mentor, we need to learn how to accelerate our lives to slow motion, and begin to appreciate all the blessings that we have been granted. Do you recognize the beauty that surrounds you? Do you acknowledge all the ways in which you have been blessed? Do you tell the people who are most important to you, how much you love and adore them? If not, this is the perfect moment to start doing so.
Before I embarked on this amazing and beautiful journey that I am on, I was extremely impatient. I always wanted things to go my way, and I wanted them to happen on my schedule. I wanted to hurry up and finish school, I wanted to get started with my career, buy a nice car, buy a house, and travel the world. I was stuck living my life looking at the possibilities of the future, rather than appreciating and living in the present. Unfortunately, living in this manner led me to frustration and disappointment every time. I felt that people consistently let me down and that God had turned his back on me. But being so unhappy in my life I realized that something was wrong and that I needed to make a change…and I did.
I will always share things with you that I know have worked for me. In this case, I was able to find fulfillment and happiness in my life by simply slowing down. I understand how difficult that can be in this hectic world that we live in. With short attention spans and the need for everything to be instant and at our fingertips, it is extremely challenging at first to take a deep breath and appreciate the simple things. It is even more difficult to accept that things don’t happen on your schedule, and that you may not always get what you want, when you want it. But if you can let go of the desire to control everything in your life, you will certainly open up so many more doors that lead to joy and bliss.
Unfortunately, I always hear people worrying and complaining. Whether it’s about financial struggles, relationship issues, or simply their daily life, most people I come across find a reason not to be happy. So what can you do to stop worrying and begin living your life to its fullest? Slow down, and incorporate an attitude of gratitude into your life. The next time you feel like worrying about something out of your control, think about something you are grateful for. When you begin to think about money and your bills, give thanks for your health and the fact that you have your limbs and you don’t live in pain. When you feel like being down and just feeling negative, be grateful that you have a home, with food to eat and clean water to drink. I am often asked how I can be so positive all the time, and my answer is simple and to the point….How can I not be? My life may not be perfect, but I do believe in God. And with all the blessings that are in my life, how could I ever complain about anything. Instead, I choose to recognize and appreciate all the blessings and opportunities in my life, and this has led me to pure happiness and fulfillment.
I leave you with this. You may not have everything that you want in your life, at this very moment, but if those things were intended for you, you will receive them. So instead of living your life, constantly looking at the things you don’t have, begin to appreciate the things that you do have. And this is only possible if you slow down and recognize everything that is in your life. By simply shifting your attitude in this very slight way, you will find your purpose, fulfill your potential and find peace in your heart. I am certain that this is the way because all of my other approaches failed miserably. I share this with you because I know that if I can do this, there is no reason why you can’t. And I know that if I found happiness in my life, happiness is awaiting you in your life. This is your time ….
I hope you had a beautiful weekend. Have a wonderful and productive week. One love, Yashar
In an attempt to share and not be the selfish one, I figured I would drop these messages on you as well so you can feel the love as well. So, enough of me, more message:
“Accelerate your life to slow motion.”
In the immortal words of my mentor, we need to learn how to accelerate our lives to slow motion, and begin to appreciate all the blessings that we have been granted. Do you recognize the beauty that surrounds you? Do you acknowledge all the ways in which you have been blessed? Do you tell the people who are most important to you, how much you love and adore them? If not, this is the perfect moment to start doing so.
Before I embarked on this amazing and beautiful journey that I am on, I was extremely impatient. I always wanted things to go my way, and I wanted them to happen on my schedule. I wanted to hurry up and finish school, I wanted to get started with my career, buy a nice car, buy a house, and travel the world. I was stuck living my life looking at the possibilities of the future, rather than appreciating and living in the present. Unfortunately, living in this manner led me to frustration and disappointment every time. I felt that people consistently let me down and that God had turned his back on me. But being so unhappy in my life I realized that something was wrong and that I needed to make a change…and I did.
I will always share things with you that I know have worked for me. In this case, I was able to find fulfillment and happiness in my life by simply slowing down. I understand how difficult that can be in this hectic world that we live in. With short attention spans and the need for everything to be instant and at our fingertips, it is extremely challenging at first to take a deep breath and appreciate the simple things. It is even more difficult to accept that things don’t happen on your schedule, and that you may not always get what you want, when you want it. But if you can let go of the desire to control everything in your life, you will certainly open up so many more doors that lead to joy and bliss.
Unfortunately, I always hear people worrying and complaining. Whether it’s about financial struggles, relationship issues, or simply their daily life, most people I come across find a reason not to be happy. So what can you do to stop worrying and begin living your life to its fullest? Slow down, and incorporate an attitude of gratitude into your life. The next time you feel like worrying about something out of your control, think about something you are grateful for. When you begin to think about money and your bills, give thanks for your health and the fact that you have your limbs and you don’t live in pain. When you feel like being down and just feeling negative, be grateful that you have a home, with food to eat and clean water to drink. I am often asked how I can be so positive all the time, and my answer is simple and to the point….How can I not be? My life may not be perfect, but I do believe in God. And with all the blessings that are in my life, how could I ever complain about anything. Instead, I choose to recognize and appreciate all the blessings and opportunities in my life, and this has led me to pure happiness and fulfillment.
I leave you with this. You may not have everything that you want in your life, at this very moment, but if those things were intended for you, you will receive them. So instead of living your life, constantly looking at the things you don’t have, begin to appreciate the things that you do have. And this is only possible if you slow down and recognize everything that is in your life. By simply shifting your attitude in this very slight way, you will find your purpose, fulfill your potential and find peace in your heart. I am certain that this is the way because all of my other approaches failed miserably. I share this with you because I know that if I can do this, there is no reason why you can’t. And I know that if I found happiness in my life, happiness is awaiting you in your life. This is your time ….
I hope you had a beautiful weekend. Have a wonderful and productive week. One love, Yashar
Starburst, of Burning Man, Enters My World...
August/06/2009 08:08 PM Filed in: Random
I was down in SoCal with my boys Mike Fey (UCLA ’06) and John “Legend” Fieweger for the “6 Man” volleyball festival. We had our fun for a couple days down in Manhattan Beach then it was time to head back up to Malibu to Mike’s spot to chill.
While we were heading back to Mike’s house, he got a call. He relayed the news to me that there would be a party crackin at his spot when we got there. I was hyped to see the big house party, but he informed me that he didnt know any of the people. In fact, he didn’t know anybody who knew these people. He did know that the people throwing the party were not like us.
It seemed a little strange that he phrased everything the way he did. Why would there be a party at his house if he didnt know any of the patrons? It didnt really make sense.
He explained to me that a large part of the property is rented out for events since its a big property deep within the hills of Malibu. He stressed that this particular party, which he had been told would be over the day before, was actually being held by “Burning Man” people. I still don’t quite understand what it means, but a quick wiki made it seem like they shouldn’t be at his house but in the desert.
I guess that the actually Burning Man event is only held once a year, but in the meantime they have gatherings at random locations and do a bunch of weird nonsense. What would be the chances that they would have one of these events at Mike Fey’s house on THE day I go to Malibu? Seemed like he was making stuff up to scare me. Then we arrived.
Strange people were doing strange things all over the property. There were dudes dressed up like Ninja Geiden, women hoola hooping around their necks, multiple DJ’s spinning trippy acid music, and random Yanni look-a-like’s running around preying and being naked. Honestly I was quite frightened.
So hours later, after the fear subsided, we were on our way to get some food. We had heard through the grapevine that one of the people there was named “Starburst.” It quickly became a quick mission of ours to discover who it was.
It didn’t take long to discover Starburst. I saw a woman standing by the rock bed. I yelled the name Starburst and she turned around. I then whipped out my camera and asked her some questions. You’re about to see that video.
Check out the people who pass by and REALLY check out the Asian dude and what he says. It’s downright epic.
While we were heading back to Mike’s house, he got a call. He relayed the news to me that there would be a party crackin at his spot when we got there. I was hyped to see the big house party, but he informed me that he didnt know any of the people. In fact, he didn’t know anybody who knew these people. He did know that the people throwing the party were not like us.
It seemed a little strange that he phrased everything the way he did. Why would there be a party at his house if he didnt know any of the patrons? It didnt really make sense.
He explained to me that a large part of the property is rented out for events since its a big property deep within the hills of Malibu. He stressed that this particular party, which he had been told would be over the day before, was actually being held by “Burning Man” people. I still don’t quite understand what it means, but a quick wiki made it seem like they shouldn’t be at his house but in the desert.
I guess that the actually Burning Man event is only held once a year, but in the meantime they have gatherings at random locations and do a bunch of weird nonsense. What would be the chances that they would have one of these events at Mike Fey’s house on THE day I go to Malibu? Seemed like he was making stuff up to scare me. Then we arrived.
Strange people were doing strange things all over the property. There were dudes dressed up like Ninja Geiden, women hoola hooping around their necks, multiple DJ’s spinning trippy acid music, and random Yanni look-a-like’s running around preying and being naked. Honestly I was quite frightened.
So hours later, after the fear subsided, we were on our way to get some food. We had heard through the grapevine that one of the people there was named “Starburst.” It quickly became a quick mission of ours to discover who it was.
It didn’t take long to discover Starburst. I saw a woman standing by the rock bed. I yelled the name Starburst and she turned around. I then whipped out my camera and asked her some questions. You’re about to see that video.
Check out the people who pass by and REALLY check out the Asian dude and what he says. It’s downright epic.
Finally, I Accidentally Enter The Dance Off
July/25/2009 08:17 PM Filed in: Dance Off
Back months and months ago, Clay claimed he was the best dancer in our crew. It turned into a full “Dance Off” between all of my Boom Tho bros.
Anyways, everyone did their videos except me. There wasn’t really a reason for the lack of dance video. Two nights I put on some “Flock of Seagulls” and it got me hyped. I turned on my camera and... Well, just check it out.
So I think you should check out all the videos and give me a final judgement on who won. Remember that nobody is using their real dance moves, but just feeling the music. Here are the past submissions:
JGants Dance Off vid from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Aubrey Enters the Dance Off from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Now it’s voting time.
Anyways, everyone did their videos except me. There wasn’t really a reason for the lack of dance video. Two nights I put on some “Flock of Seagulls” and it got me hyped. I turned on my camera and... Well, just check it out.
So I think you should check out all the videos and give me a final judgement on who won. Remember that nobody is using their real dance moves, but just feeling the music. Here are the past submissions:
JGants Dance Off vid from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Aubrey Enters the Dance Off from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Now it’s voting time.
Just One Funny MySpace Message
July/23/2009 09:29 PM Filed in: MySpace Messages
MySpace is nearly dead these days and it really hinders my “Funny MySpace Msgs” section on my site, however this gem just came up and KILLED me. Seriously. I have no words.... The msg was sent to Clay and he forwarded it to me, saying that all he gets is msgs from gay men now for no reason. I had no idea EXACTLY what he meant.
From: The King Of Gay Music
To: absolute -- twitter.com/claytyclay
Date: Jul 20, 2009 6:52 AM
Subject:
Sup.. did u see i was on Mediatakeout the other day?
Headlines as the Gay Rapper and they showed my video..
so now mainstream america views me as "THY" Gay Rapper.. I Love it.. here is My controversial Video
and Link to the site
Addicted 2 Boyz
From: The King Of Gay Music
To: absolute -- twitter.com/claytyclay
Date: Jul 20, 2009 6:52 AM
Subject:
Sup.. did u see i was on Mediatakeout the other day?
Headlines as the Gay Rapper and they showed my video..
so now mainstream america views me as "THY" Gay Rapper.. I Love it.. here is My controversial Video
and Link to the site
Addicted 2 Boyz
Compete or Get Urinated On: A True Story
July/21/2009 10:09 PM Filed in: Random
Every year, former Cal Wide Receiver Chase Lyman holds a series of competitions at his house on one day in the last weekend in June. These competitions range from Quarterback Challenge to Darts to Bocce Ball to Home Run Derby. These events are called the “Lyma Bean Olympics.”
This past OLYMPICS, I went down there to compete against Prelle, Richard Midgley, Mike McGrath, Tosh Lupoi, Conor Famulenor, and others. I did pretty poorly, but this story isn’t about me, it’s about Prelle and Mike.
I guess Mike has always performed pretty poorly at these events and Prelle has always done pretty well. So to spice things up a little bit they made a bet. They made it a little uneven given Mike’s performances in the past, but still, the difference was miniscule. The bet was that if Mike had a higher score at the end of the competitions, he would get to Pee on Prelle’s Chest. If Prelle won, he would get to Pee on Mike’s back. So it was written, so it shall be done.

We used aliases for everyone, but since Mike is balding, he’s on the board as “Rogaine.” Prelle is “The Nose.” As you can see, going into the final event they were all tied up. All that was left to establish a champion was pool. They would play each other to see who would get the golden shower.

Right before the final match
The pool game came down to the last couple of shots. What you’re about to see is video of those last few shots and what ensued. Be advised that there is no actual pee in this video, but that there is quite a bit of profanity because I didnt want to spend hours editing every cuss word they throw out.
This past OLYMPICS, I went down there to compete against Prelle, Richard Midgley, Mike McGrath, Tosh Lupoi, Conor Famulenor, and others. I did pretty poorly, but this story isn’t about me, it’s about Prelle and Mike.
I guess Mike has always performed pretty poorly at these events and Prelle has always done pretty well. So to spice things up a little bit they made a bet. They made it a little uneven given Mike’s performances in the past, but still, the difference was miniscule. The bet was that if Mike had a higher score at the end of the competitions, he would get to Pee on Prelle’s Chest. If Prelle won, he would get to Pee on Mike’s back. So it was written, so it shall be done.

We used aliases for everyone, but since Mike is balding, he’s on the board as “Rogaine.” Prelle is “The Nose.” As you can see, going into the final event they were all tied up. All that was left to establish a champion was pool. They would play each other to see who would get the golden shower.

Right before the final match
The pool game came down to the last couple of shots. What you’re about to see is video of those last few shots and what ensued. Be advised that there is no actual pee in this video, but that there is quite a bit of profanity because I didnt want to spend hours editing every cuss word they throw out.
Where Have I Been?
July/21/2009 10:07 PM Filed in: Random
This is What Happens When You Forget What You've Done
June/16/2009 07:55 PM Filed in: Random
So I was at my girlfriends apartment in San Francisco one afternoon and she had to leave the house to go to work or something. The problem with this was that her roommate absolutely despises my presence, and hates when I’m around without her. She once since my girl a text message reading: “What about ‘I don’t want Rod here when you’re not here’ do you not understand?” -- cold-blooded to say the least.
Anyways, I decided to stay and take a nap despite the fact that her roommate was home. My girl warned me to stay in the room with the door closed until I left and to not make much noise so that I wouldn’t get her in trouble. I agreed and fell asleep.
I woke up a few hours later and could hear her roommate rumbling the next room. Damn. I would have to put my headphones on and watch a movie on my computer so as to not make a peep. I laid there for quite some time and her roommate kept rumbling in her own room now, with the door open so that if I left the room I was in, I would be seen for sure. Damn.
After another hour or so of hiding in the bedroom, the urge to drain the main vein hit me like a ton of bricks. What was I to do? I couldn’t leave the room, not yet at least. I didn’t have many options. It’s not like I could piss out the window from the fourth floor of a San Francisco building onto a busy street. As time wore on, I tried to hold it, but it became unbearable.
I started to panic. This was gonna be all bad unless I found a solution soon. I have always believed that being able to hold it is mental, meaning you can hold it all day long, but as soon as you get near a toilet, it becomes impossible and you start jumping around like the counter finally hit zero. With that in mind you should always be able to remain composed as long as you keep the mental focus. My mental focus is very strong, but I feel like the fact that the bathroom was seven feet away eroded my mental ability to withstand the pressure. It seemed too close to hold out. I was torturing myself.
Finally, when my bladder countdown turned from minutes to seconds, I made a play. I ran over to what used to be a glass of water and was now empty, stood over it, unzipped, and did my deal. It felt great, truly great.
As soon as I was done, a full glass nearly to the brim, by the way, I said to myself: “Don’t forget to dispose of this glass before you leave.” Can’t just leave piss lying around these days, you know?
Later that day I was walking with my boy Prelle. We had just gotten some Jamba Juice in the marina and were headed to grab some real food somewhere in the area. My phone buzzed. It was a BBM from my girlfriend.
“Is that Urine in a glass on my desk?”
I froze. I yelled. I laughed. I worried, Prelle looked at me like I had gone crazy. He asked me what I was reacting to. I first set up the backstory, then I showed him the BBM.
“Wait, wait, wait. This is the greatest question ever. It has like three parts, each worse than the part before. Is that Urine? In a glass? On my desk?” He exclaimed.
He then spent the rest of the day repeating that same statement. As for my girl, she didn’t even get mad at me. In fact, she said that she at first thought it was apple juice and leaned in for a sniff, getting a little of Benson’s Own on her nose. Even I was grossed out by that. It just made her angry at her roommate, who was such a tyrant that I didn’t feel comfortable walking the seven feet to the real bathroom.
I guess I’ve learned my lesson. If I’m gonna piss in a glass, I need to leave a note saying that it isn’t Martinelli’s, it’s Rod’s.
Anyways, I decided to stay and take a nap despite the fact that her roommate was home. My girl warned me to stay in the room with the door closed until I left and to not make much noise so that I wouldn’t get her in trouble. I agreed and fell asleep.
I woke up a few hours later and could hear her roommate rumbling the next room. Damn. I would have to put my headphones on and watch a movie on my computer so as to not make a peep. I laid there for quite some time and her roommate kept rumbling in her own room now, with the door open so that if I left the room I was in, I would be seen for sure. Damn.
After another hour or so of hiding in the bedroom, the urge to drain the main vein hit me like a ton of bricks. What was I to do? I couldn’t leave the room, not yet at least. I didn’t have many options. It’s not like I could piss out the window from the fourth floor of a San Francisco building onto a busy street. As time wore on, I tried to hold it, but it became unbearable.
I started to panic. This was gonna be all bad unless I found a solution soon. I have always believed that being able to hold it is mental, meaning you can hold it all day long, but as soon as you get near a toilet, it becomes impossible and you start jumping around like the counter finally hit zero. With that in mind you should always be able to remain composed as long as you keep the mental focus. My mental focus is very strong, but I feel like the fact that the bathroom was seven feet away eroded my mental ability to withstand the pressure. It seemed too close to hold out. I was torturing myself.
Finally, when my bladder countdown turned from minutes to seconds, I made a play. I ran over to what used to be a glass of water and was now empty, stood over it, unzipped, and did my deal. It felt great, truly great.
As soon as I was done, a full glass nearly to the brim, by the way, I said to myself: “Don’t forget to dispose of this glass before you leave.” Can’t just leave piss lying around these days, you know?
Later that day I was walking with my boy Prelle. We had just gotten some Jamba Juice in the marina and were headed to grab some real food somewhere in the area. My phone buzzed. It was a BBM from my girlfriend.
“Is that Urine in a glass on my desk?”
I froze. I yelled. I laughed. I worried, Prelle looked at me like I had gone crazy. He asked me what I was reacting to. I first set up the backstory, then I showed him the BBM.
“Wait, wait, wait. This is the greatest question ever. It has like three parts, each worse than the part before. Is that Urine? In a glass? On my desk?” He exclaimed.
He then spent the rest of the day repeating that same statement. As for my girl, she didn’t even get mad at me. In fact, she said that she at first thought it was apple juice and leaned in for a sniff, getting a little of Benson’s Own on her nose. Even I was grossed out by that. It just made her angry at her roommate, who was such a tyrant that I didn’t feel comfortable walking the seven feet to the real bathroom.
I guess I’ve learned my lesson. If I’m gonna piss in a glass, I need to leave a note saying that it isn’t Martinelli’s, it’s Rod’s.
Randy Goes For His Own Manage
June/14/2009 02:29 PM Filed in: Random
As it so happens, “Jimmy” wasn’t the only one to try for the 3 of a kind. A few weeks later, “Randy” had his own encounter. Once again, Randy is not his real name, it’s been changed to protect the guilty, as have all the names in the following story.
So one day Randy was telling me about how he doesn’t like to talk about potential good things in his life because he always jinxes them. It was an odd conversation to have with him. It seemed rather pointless.
I asked him why this was at all relevant. He explained that he would tell me because there were a couple of other people who knew what the deal was already.
Randy showed me a BBM conversation that he had had with a girl he has been talking to. She had asked him something about what he would want to do for fun. I can’t remember the exact words, but somehow a Manage came up. Expecting to read that she denied the idea quickly, she actually embraced it.
I looked up at Randy with a grin. It would appear that the improbably was now possible for him and I got excited as if it were me. I would now do anything in my power to coddle such a situation.
The situation developed over the next few days. The girl, we’ll call her “Stacy”, recruited a friend to participate. We’ll call the friend “Monica.” So Stacy found Monica and told her about the deal. Monica agreed and it looked like ol’ Randy was good to go. He consulted me on the situation.
He didn’t know if he should get a hotel room or whatever. I told him that of course he should. It would only add to the comfort level. Meanwhile, he was getting dirty texts from the girls about what they were going to do to him. He was riding high on a wave of emotion.
Finally the day came. He got a hotel room right across from the club that we were going to go to that night. The situation was primed and ready.
The girls met up with him after dinner so that they could pre-party at the hotel. Now they were all drinking in the hotel and Randy was sending me the updates via BBM. It all seemed like it was good to go. He said that he was taking very awesome pictures of Stacy and Monica making out. He said that clothing may or may not have been a factor during the pictures. It sounded pretty damn official.
Me, my girl, and the rest of the crew, met up with Randy and his women at the club and the three of them were dancing with each other. I pulled Randy aside and asked him what the progress was. He told me that Stacy was beginning to have reservations, but that Monica was all for it. I told him to get more liquor and do his deal.
See, our whole crew knew the story at this point and we were all pulling for him. We watched his every move. We watched as he gave both girls a fair amount of attention. We watched him do the normally very innocent “dance in-between two women” move, that now meant so much more. He was actually attempting to keep two separate women stimulated for hours. It was quite entertaining. I left him at about 1am. Randy was now on his own to handle the situation.
The next day I called Randy to see if it all went down. He told me that when he got back to the room, Monica was ready to go. The problem was that Stacy, the one who initiated the whole thing, now had cold feet about her friend possibly gettin down with Randy and put the brakes on the whole thing. Monica, tired of waiting, left the hotel room to go meet up with her boyfriend for some sweet lovin, while Randy and Stacy passed out.
He was so close, but yet so far away. Now my friends are 0-2 in the summer of ’09. There’s still plenty of time to get it done, though.
So one day Randy was telling me about how he doesn’t like to talk about potential good things in his life because he always jinxes them. It was an odd conversation to have with him. It seemed rather pointless.
I asked him why this was at all relevant. He explained that he would tell me because there were a couple of other people who knew what the deal was already.
Randy showed me a BBM conversation that he had had with a girl he has been talking to. She had asked him something about what he would want to do for fun. I can’t remember the exact words, but somehow a Manage came up. Expecting to read that she denied the idea quickly, she actually embraced it.
I looked up at Randy with a grin. It would appear that the improbably was now possible for him and I got excited as if it were me. I would now do anything in my power to coddle such a situation.
The situation developed over the next few days. The girl, we’ll call her “Stacy”, recruited a friend to participate. We’ll call the friend “Monica.” So Stacy found Monica and told her about the deal. Monica agreed and it looked like ol’ Randy was good to go. He consulted me on the situation.
He didn’t know if he should get a hotel room or whatever. I told him that of course he should. It would only add to the comfort level. Meanwhile, he was getting dirty texts from the girls about what they were going to do to him. He was riding high on a wave of emotion.
Finally the day came. He got a hotel room right across from the club that we were going to go to that night. The situation was primed and ready.
The girls met up with him after dinner so that they could pre-party at the hotel. Now they were all drinking in the hotel and Randy was sending me the updates via BBM. It all seemed like it was good to go. He said that he was taking very awesome pictures of Stacy and Monica making out. He said that clothing may or may not have been a factor during the pictures. It sounded pretty damn official.
Me, my girl, and the rest of the crew, met up with Randy and his women at the club and the three of them were dancing with each other. I pulled Randy aside and asked him what the progress was. He told me that Stacy was beginning to have reservations, but that Monica was all for it. I told him to get more liquor and do his deal.
See, our whole crew knew the story at this point and we were all pulling for him. We watched his every move. We watched as he gave both girls a fair amount of attention. We watched him do the normally very innocent “dance in-between two women” move, that now meant so much more. He was actually attempting to keep two separate women stimulated for hours. It was quite entertaining. I left him at about 1am. Randy was now on his own to handle the situation.
The next day I called Randy to see if it all went down. He told me that when he got back to the room, Monica was ready to go. The problem was that Stacy, the one who initiated the whole thing, now had cold feet about her friend possibly gettin down with Randy and put the brakes on the whole thing. Monica, tired of waiting, left the hotel room to go meet up with her boyfriend for some sweet lovin, while Randy and Stacy passed out.
He was so close, but yet so far away. Now my friends are 0-2 in the summer of ’09. There’s still plenty of time to get it done, though.
Jimmy Goes For the Manage
June/14/2009 09:56 AM Filed in: Random
All of the parties in the following stories chose to remain anonymous, of course, so I’ve changed the names to protect the guilty.
We were in Vegas staying at the Venetian about a month ago. After going out the night before, I was the first one up in the morning the next day. It was about 11am and I knew that it would take a while to rally the troops. So I got fully dressed in my pool garb, grabbed my Ipod Dock (Bose. Very loud.) and went room to room, blasting Techno until everyone was up and ready.
We made it down to the pool at about 1, finally, and started gettin it crackin. We didn’t head into TAO Beach right away. We like to get our swerve on at the regular pool first, using the Ipod speakers to have our own party.
Once we were done doin our thing, we went into TAO Beach to take it to the next level. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been to TAO Beach, but I can tell you it’s small, loud, and ridiculous. When we entered, I immediately lost one of my boys. You would think it would be tough to lose somebody at a pool the size of a Texaco, but I couldn’t find him.
The thing about this boy of mine, I’ll call him “Jimmy,” is that he almost exclusively dates Asian women. It’s just his thing. We all know this and that’s why he and I have never clashed on the female front. We have very different tastes.
Anyways, after about an hours, Jimmy comes splashing into the pool with two women who fit his target demographic. He’s clearly all over one as he has her up against the wall of the pool, grinding to the sweet tunes pumping over all the patrons that afternoon.
I was happy for Jimmy, because he is just now gettin his college mojo back that he let slip away over the last year. So when I saw him with his tongue now down the girl’s throat. It was damn near magical. Many photos were taken that afternoon and I would like to say that half of them were borderline Cinemax: After Dark.
After the party was over, I headed back to my room with my roommate “Chris.” I was hella tired from a whole day of partying and needed a nap. Chris left the room and I got in bed. It was then that I started getting BBM’s from Jimmy.
“Man why is everybody actin gay?”
“#$*% these chicks aint dimes, but come on punanny punanny.”
I interrupted him.
“What are you talkin bout Jim? I have no clue,” I asked.
“It’s official, I’m off ‘Randy,’ and ‘Gary.’ All I need is a F#$%@$ wingman and they’re actin like they don’t like punanny,” he said.
Right then, Chris walked into the room laughing. I asked him if he was laughing at Jimmy’s situation and he said that he was. See, I know the Chris would handle business in that situation so I was actually more wondering why he didn’t lock and load into WIngman mode.
“Hold up Chris,” I interrupted his laughter, “WTF is goin on over in Jimmy’s room?”
Chris is a very technical talker. He’s probably as Spock-like as a man can be.
“Basically the situation is this: Jimmy brought the woman and her friend from TAO Beach back to his hotel room. They are currently in his bed, completely inebriated. Jimmy is trying to have sex with his girl, but her friend is hating. Jimmy is trying to put the other girl onto Randy or Gary, both of whom don’t want her.”
Chris’ voice was like that of a narrator.
“So,” I started, “you didn’t want to get on drunk girl #2?”
“Well,” he answered, “I tried to help Jimmy out, but they only wanted black guys.”
Chris is Jewish. He was the only non-black guy on our trip.
“Damn son. Cold blooded. Why doesn’t Jimmy go for the Manage? If they are that drunk... I mean it IS Vegas,” I asked.
From what I was told later on, the girls made many attempts to leave, but Jimmy did his best to keep them there. They had a long meeting in the bathroom of his room and he took the opportunity to call me and voice his concern.
He told me that they weren’t down for the manage. He then spent 5 minutes saying how much he hated all his boys for not taking the other girl, leaving him punanny-less.
If there was one moral to this otherwise moral-less story it’s this: Find a girl who likes Jewish guys. The end.
We were in Vegas staying at the Venetian about a month ago. After going out the night before, I was the first one up in the morning the next day. It was about 11am and I knew that it would take a while to rally the troops. So I got fully dressed in my pool garb, grabbed my Ipod Dock (Bose. Very loud.) and went room to room, blasting Techno until everyone was up and ready.
We made it down to the pool at about 1, finally, and started gettin it crackin. We didn’t head into TAO Beach right away. We like to get our swerve on at the regular pool first, using the Ipod speakers to have our own party.
Once we were done doin our thing, we went into TAO Beach to take it to the next level. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been to TAO Beach, but I can tell you it’s small, loud, and ridiculous. When we entered, I immediately lost one of my boys. You would think it would be tough to lose somebody at a pool the size of a Texaco, but I couldn’t find him.
The thing about this boy of mine, I’ll call him “Jimmy,” is that he almost exclusively dates Asian women. It’s just his thing. We all know this and that’s why he and I have never clashed on the female front. We have very different tastes.
Anyways, after about an hours, Jimmy comes splashing into the pool with two women who fit his target demographic. He’s clearly all over one as he has her up against the wall of the pool, grinding to the sweet tunes pumping over all the patrons that afternoon.
I was happy for Jimmy, because he is just now gettin his college mojo back that he let slip away over the last year. So when I saw him with his tongue now down the girl’s throat. It was damn near magical. Many photos were taken that afternoon and I would like to say that half of them were borderline Cinemax: After Dark.
After the party was over, I headed back to my room with my roommate “Chris.” I was hella tired from a whole day of partying and needed a nap. Chris left the room and I got in bed. It was then that I started getting BBM’s from Jimmy.
“Man why is everybody actin gay?”
“#$*% these chicks aint dimes, but come on punanny punanny.”
I interrupted him.
“What are you talkin bout Jim? I have no clue,” I asked.
“It’s official, I’m off ‘Randy,’ and ‘Gary.’ All I need is a F#$%@$ wingman and they’re actin like they don’t like punanny,” he said.
Right then, Chris walked into the room laughing. I asked him if he was laughing at Jimmy’s situation and he said that he was. See, I know the Chris would handle business in that situation so I was actually more wondering why he didn’t lock and load into WIngman mode.
“Hold up Chris,” I interrupted his laughter, “WTF is goin on over in Jimmy’s room?”
Chris is a very technical talker. He’s probably as Spock-like as a man can be.
“Basically the situation is this: Jimmy brought the woman and her friend from TAO Beach back to his hotel room. They are currently in his bed, completely inebriated. Jimmy is trying to have sex with his girl, but her friend is hating. Jimmy is trying to put the other girl onto Randy or Gary, both of whom don’t want her.”
Chris’ voice was like that of a narrator.
“So,” I started, “you didn’t want to get on drunk girl #2?”
“Well,” he answered, “I tried to help Jimmy out, but they only wanted black guys.”
Chris is Jewish. He was the only non-black guy on our trip.
“Damn son. Cold blooded. Why doesn’t Jimmy go for the Manage? If they are that drunk... I mean it IS Vegas,” I asked.
From what I was told later on, the girls made many attempts to leave, but Jimmy did his best to keep them there. They had a long meeting in the bathroom of his room and he took the opportunity to call me and voice his concern.
He told me that they weren’t down for the manage. He then spent 5 minutes saying how much he hated all his boys for not taking the other girl, leaving him punanny-less.
If there was one moral to this otherwise moral-less story it’s this: Find a girl who likes Jewish guys. The end.
I Must Protect the 7'3" Polish Guy!
April/02/2009 04:25 PM Filed in: Random
Have you ever seen the movie “Can’t Hardly Wait”? I have many times. When I was a high schooler, our basketball team room had a pretty nice TV, couches, and a VCR. The problem was that there were only two movies in there. For no good reason whatsoever, one of these movies was Master P’s masterpiece: “I Got The Hookup.” The other was “Can’t Hardly Wait.” I digress.
In “Can’t Hardly Wait,” there’s a scene where the kids make the foreigner say things like “would you like to touch my...” you can finish the sentence. Anyways, that character kind of embodies my Polish teammate Cezary Trybanski. He actually speaks English pretty well, but there are times when he just doesn’t know when he’s being taken advantage of.
This story starts and ends with what happened the other night. We were out at some bar around the corner just talking and listening to this blues musician. One of my teammates is on the other side of the bar chillin, and Cezary is sitting next to some guy with a beard. It looks like they’re talking. A few minutes later, Cezary walks up to me.
“Can you come to tell me what he says?” He asks me.
“What are you talkin bout C?” I ask him right back.
“This guy, I don’t understand him. Find out what he says to me.”
I walk over with Cezary to this new friend. Cezary sits down again while I lean in.
“What are you talkin about? My teammate can’t understand you,” I yell to this guy over the music.
In a ridiculously raspy voice, like a Ken Kaniff from Connecticut type voice, he says:
“What are you guys doing?”
It was clear why Cezary couldn’t understand him. His voice was just do funny and raspy.
“We’re here chillin. That’s obvious,” I say to the creepy voiced guy.
“What are you guys doin later?” he asks me again.
I’m thinkin he knows about some sort of after party or something.
“I dunno man. We ain’t sure yet.”
“Do you guys wanna get in a hot tub with me?”
I thought I misheard him in a bad way.
“What!?!” I yell out even louder than before.
“I said do you guys wanna get in a hot tub with meeee?”
“HAIL NO!”
I grab Cezary and start to walk him away.
“Wait man, you don’t know what I’d do to you man. For real I’d s...”
The guy started a sentence I didn’t need to hear the end of. I took off running, Cezary right there with me until we were on the other side of the bar. RIght then, as if he had teleported over, the guy was right behind us.
“April fools, man. April fools, man,” he was yelling at us in his raspy, nasty Ken Kaniff voice.
I told him to step off. I didn’t believe him. It wasn’t even April Fools day, for one. Secondly, you cant run an April Fools joke on someone who doesn’t speak English. Whatever. Moral of the story is that I now have to watch over the Polish guy so that nobody takes advantage of him.
Whip Game Proper
April/02/2009 04:17 PM Filed in: Random
Since photo’s of my car were already leaked on ridiculousupside.com (via my Facebook), I figured I’d do it right and show you how I’m rollin. It’s gonna be a great summer, baby! Oh yea, and my custom license plates will be here in a few weeks. If you can’t guess the 7 letter phrase that will be on my plates, then you REALLY don’t know me at all.












How to Lose a Pillow Fight
March/13/2009 12:14 PM Filed in: Random
Clay and I attended the big pillow fight in San Francisco during the D-League all star break. I was dominating everyone all day using my overhead beatdown method. It also led to multiple people trying to jump me and take me out. The following video is of my final confrontation. It left me feeling slightly concussed and with a skinned nose and forehead.
How to lose a pillow fight:
How to lose a pillow fight:
Coleman Collins: LAX
March/09/2009 03:06 PM Filed in: Coleman Collins
My boy Coleman Collins (College at VaTech, summer league w Toronto Raptors, training camp w PHX, current Ft Wayne Mad Ant, and Boom Got Them 3 cameo guy) has some interesting perspectives on things in life, so a couple months ago, I asked him to join the movement more officially and write for tmrb. It took quite a while to come around, but he finally submitted something. Leave a comment if you like his style, please. I think he’s got a unique sense of humor, personally. So, here it is.
LAX:
So you're walking through LAX...hit security. Woman behind you. Beautiful, naturally. Bangs and a smile and one of those outfits that didn't used to be proper in public but somehow is now. A baby-tee with a sweaterish thing over it, spandex tights and boots. You don't know who decided it was suddenly ok for women to not wear actual pants out and around but you owe whoever it is a drink or a handshake or something. ("Pants are overrated" - Carl Elliott, teammate). So anyway, she's looking at you like she wore those specifically with you in mind, and then the woman behind us asks a stupid question and gives you an in. ("You have to take your shoes off now? I haven't flown in a while, but gosh, that seems a bit excessive.") So you make the lay-up joke about damn how long has it been, what year is it again and then she laughs and she says how she hopes you have a good flight and she walks away but then you run into her again at the Starbucks. She: Tall coffee, cream, Sugar In The Raw to taste. You: doppio espresso, little bit of steamed milk, regular sugar. She's from Nashville for some reason. "Oh, I'm from the South, too...Atlanta," you say. Of course she loves Atlanta. Here's where you start thinking - What's in Nashville? Maybe I'll have a reason to go to Nashville. Young Buck, Graceland? Anyway, you could do Nashville. Didn't you drive through there on the way to _____ that one time? Maybe.
So she asks who you play for - she couldn't help notice all the other tall guys loitering around. You make sure to put "NBA" before "D-League," real official-like (so she'll have a frame of reference). You're flying through CA and are headed to NV and it's alot of travel and gets tiring and all but it's good to do something you love and and although you hate living out of a suitcase you're glad to get the opportunity to travel to a lot of cool places. (You don't mention the Dakotas, but really, who does?) So then naturally you ask why she's in L.A. and then this happens.
I've been here nine months or so.
(Ok, starving artist? Struggling actress? Waiting for that call-back?)
I actually came out here to get sober.
(Damn. You had to cross the country to kick the habit? What was that, heroin?)
Been sober eight months now.
(Yeah, good for you.)
I really think I'm moving in a positive direction. I think things are really starting to come together for me. I'm really starting to Get It.
(Damn. Really?)
Then you say goodbye and she walks away, and you notice her five minutes later walking back in the other direction, having trouble finding her gate even though there are only like 5 in the whole Southwest terminal, and you think that tattoo on her forearm that you thought was cool was probably covering up needle tracks, and you remember that you WERE in Nashville one time, and it was really wack, and that Graceland was really in Memphis the whole time, and f#$% Elvis and country music in general anyway.
Then somehow 15 more women pass by with pseudo-pants on in the next hour or so.
There's really no end to this story.
--Coleman
LAX:
So you're walking through LAX...hit security. Woman behind you. Beautiful, naturally. Bangs and a smile and one of those outfits that didn't used to be proper in public but somehow is now. A baby-tee with a sweaterish thing over it, spandex tights and boots. You don't know who decided it was suddenly ok for women to not wear actual pants out and around but you owe whoever it is a drink or a handshake or something. ("Pants are overrated" - Carl Elliott, teammate). So anyway, she's looking at you like she wore those specifically with you in mind, and then the woman behind us asks a stupid question and gives you an in. ("You have to take your shoes off now? I haven't flown in a while, but gosh, that seems a bit excessive.") So you make the lay-up joke about damn how long has it been, what year is it again and then she laughs and she says how she hopes you have a good flight and she walks away but then you run into her again at the Starbucks. She: Tall coffee, cream, Sugar In The Raw to taste. You: doppio espresso, little bit of steamed milk, regular sugar. She's from Nashville for some reason. "Oh, I'm from the South, too...Atlanta," you say. Of course she loves Atlanta. Here's where you start thinking - What's in Nashville? Maybe I'll have a reason to go to Nashville. Young Buck, Graceland? Anyway, you could do Nashville. Didn't you drive through there on the way to _____ that one time? Maybe.
So she asks who you play for - she couldn't help notice all the other tall guys loitering around. You make sure to put "NBA" before "D-League," real official-like (so she'll have a frame of reference). You're flying through CA and are headed to NV and it's alot of travel and gets tiring and all but it's good to do something you love and and although you hate living out of a suitcase you're glad to get the opportunity to travel to a lot of cool places. (You don't mention the Dakotas, but really, who does?) So then naturally you ask why she's in L.A. and then this happens.
I've been here nine months or so.
(Ok, starving artist? Struggling actress? Waiting for that call-back?)
I actually came out here to get sober.
(Damn. You had to cross the country to kick the habit? What was that, heroin?)
Been sober eight months now.
(Yeah, good for you.)
I really think I'm moving in a positive direction. I think things are really starting to come together for me. I'm really starting to Get It.
(Damn. Really?)
Then you say goodbye and she walks away, and you notice her five minutes later walking back in the other direction, having trouble finding her gate even though there are only like 5 in the whole Southwest terminal, and you think that tattoo on her forearm that you thought was cool was probably covering up needle tracks, and you remember that you WERE in Nashville one time, and it was really wack, and that Graceland was really in Memphis the whole time, and f#$% Elvis and country music in general anyway.
Then somehow 15 more women pass by with pseudo-pants on in the next hour or so.
There's really no end to this story.
--Coleman
Beat Me at the Poem Game?
March/09/2009 03:05 PM Filed in: Poems
If you’re unfamiliar with the Poem Game, I suggest you click here and check it out before proceeding.
Now that you’re caught up, I got the following email a couple weeks ago:
I want to test my BoomThoNess and see where I rank among all that is Boomy. Maybe some sort of fan challenge, or maybe a head to head battle with the creator of the game itself. Below is a sample of a poem. Let me know what you think about the challenge.
Boomin in Iowa,
Mike
My poem:
BBQ Chicken, Macaroni and Cheese,
You're so hot I'm weak in the knees,
You break the thermostat - you're like a million degrees,
If you were Charmin, I'd want to squeeze.
So let's start out with something simple,
Cause when you smile I see your dimple,
Give me a call don't hesitate,
Cause we should already be on our first date!
My initial response is: Did you see Boom Tho Girl 2? Clearly that’s one hell of a poem game. But, still, yours in pretty solid and should have any waitress ready like spaghetti. That being said, I think this poem warrants two other responses:
1. If there’s anyone out there who can use the above poem to pick up a waitress (or flight attendant or whatever), contact me and tell me all about it.
2. If you feel you can do even BETTER, post a comment or contact me with the improved material.
Boom.
Now that you’re caught up, I got the following email a couple weeks ago:
I want to test my BoomThoNess and see where I rank among all that is Boomy. Maybe some sort of fan challenge, or maybe a head to head battle with the creator of the game itself. Below is a sample of a poem. Let me know what you think about the challenge.
Boomin in Iowa,
Mike
My poem:
BBQ Chicken, Macaroni and Cheese,
You're so hot I'm weak in the knees,
You break the thermostat - you're like a million degrees,
If you were Charmin, I'd want to squeeze.
So let's start out with something simple,
Cause when you smile I see your dimple,
Give me a call don't hesitate,
Cause we should already be on our first date!
My initial response is: Did you see Boom Tho Girl 2? Clearly that’s one hell of a poem game. But, still, yours in pretty solid and should have any waitress ready like spaghetti. That being said, I think this poem warrants two other responses:
1. If there’s anyone out there who can use the above poem to pick up a waitress (or flight attendant or whatever), contact me and tell me all about it.
2. If you feel you can do even BETTER, post a comment or contact me with the improved material.
Boom.
Boom Tho Girl 2
February/25/2009 01:36 PM Filed in: Random
Ask Boom Tho
February/11/2009 03:54 PM Filed in: Ask Boom Tho
So, I got this email from the other day from a guy who wanted some advice. I figured I’d answer it for everyone...
Subject: Failed Boom Tho Girl
Message: So, Rod benson, there was this one chick, definite Boom Tho girl material. Gorgeous, tall, skinny blonde, 2nd in her graduating class at her large private school, and headed for Vanderbilt next year.
I met her at some party, where she saw me running the beer pong table, and was pretty much craving my keystone-splashing jumpers all night.
We started talking, it turned into something more, and I ended up stealing her from her boyfriend... I know, I know what you're thinking "damn kid, you must be a beast!"... That is what I thought too! But that is not the case it would seem.
After we dated for about three weeks, it became evident that my mustache, and the fact that I drfopped out of high school were angering her. Mind you, this is no Adam Morrisson mustache, think more of a Magnum PI mustache. And I have my GED, so don't know what the big deal is... Her and her ex boyfriend were hanging out regularly, and of course he was scheming to put his stalagmite back in her cave, but for some reason, she still thought that he just wanted to be friends. Everytime I did something wrong, there he was to swoop back in.
NOW, all of a sudden, the girl breaks up with me and is back in love with her scrawny (6'3, 148 pound) ex boyfriend who does nothing but make her cry most of the time.
I thought she was Boom Tho Girl material, should I cut her now? Or keep her on the roster and try to get the unused potential out of her?
Colin
Colin,
the girl definitely sounds very solid. She likes Beirut (Commonly mislabeled “beer pong.” Beer pong uses a paddle.), she’s tall and hot and everything you seem to be looking for, but, alas, you’ve hit quite a snag and there are obvious reasons for this.
First of all, don’t blame the ‘stache. You kiddin’ me? Baseball players rock the dirty ‘stache all day and pull girls like Erin Andrews. Adam Morrison may even pull a solid amount of breezy’s. You never know.
Now let’s check out some of the other things you told me about her:
Going to Vandy next year.
You swooped in on her and stole her from her B.F.
Tall skinny Blonde.
To me, these three things tell your whole tale, son. Clearly you are going after a girl who is still in high school. Although being in high school doesn’t mean much isn’t much, it does mean she has more peer pressure. A girl who is still in high school will look at you differently for dropping out because her friends will hate on you. Friends hating is the #2 killer of men trying to get at women. #1 is another man hating.
Which brings me to my next point. You stole her from her boyfriend. That situation is always a shady one. Yea, you’re a boss for the move, but that means that the girl is open to that sort of thing and always looking for the next best thing.You time appeared to last a solid few weeks. Now, she’s realized whatever about you that doesnt like so she moves on. If it wasn’t him, it’d be someone else. Maybe one of my Boom Tho brothers somewhere would have swooped and made his move. Thing is, they realize that you can’t wife up a swoop. 112 has a song that goes “she got with you when she already had a man, why wouldn’t she cheat on you?” Words to live by, brotha.
Lastly, you said she was a gorgeous, tall, skinny, smart blonde. This may be your main problem, son. You met her, she was feelin you, and you almost immediately fell for her. You stole her away from her boyfriend, who you knew made her cry. You showed her another side that you probly don’t show all women. You gave her the side that would NEVER make her cry, and it worked for a short time. You were so impressed with her that you did all of these things and it worked -- for a short time.
The problem is that she’s gorgeous, tall, skinny, smart, and blonde. That means that 99% of men who meet her treat her that way. She enjoys it, but loses interest in those guys, eventually, because she’s a hot girl. Her current man makes her cry, which she hates, but he doesn’t treat her TOO well, either, which she loves. Watch “My Best Friends Girl.” You’re dusty, the other guy is Dane Cook. Ridiculously hot girls need to grow into a point where they are ready for a nice guy. They get too much smothering all the time to just buy in, especially before college.
Anyway, my final judgement is: cut the cord. Don’t steal girlfriends cuz it will come back later, and don’t be TOO nice, too early. Stay mad boom tho and do what you do, playa!
--Too Much
Got a question for Boom Tho? Hit me up
Subject: Failed Boom Tho Girl
Message: So, Rod benson, there was this one chick, definite Boom Tho girl material. Gorgeous, tall, skinny blonde, 2nd in her graduating class at her large private school, and headed for Vanderbilt next year.
I met her at some party, where she saw me running the beer pong table, and was pretty much craving my keystone-splashing jumpers all night.
We started talking, it turned into something more, and I ended up stealing her from her boyfriend... I know, I know what you're thinking "damn kid, you must be a beast!"... That is what I thought too! But that is not the case it would seem.
After we dated for about three weeks, it became evident that my mustache, and the fact that I drfopped out of high school were angering her. Mind you, this is no Adam Morrisson mustache, think more of a Magnum PI mustache. And I have my GED, so don't know what the big deal is... Her and her ex boyfriend were hanging out regularly, and of course he was scheming to put his stalagmite back in her cave, but for some reason, she still thought that he just wanted to be friends. Everytime I did something wrong, there he was to swoop back in.
NOW, all of a sudden, the girl breaks up with me and is back in love with her scrawny (6'3, 148 pound) ex boyfriend who does nothing but make her cry most of the time.
I thought she was Boom Tho Girl material, should I cut her now? Or keep her on the roster and try to get the unused potential out of her?
Colin
Colin,
the girl definitely sounds very solid. She likes Beirut (Commonly mislabeled “beer pong.” Beer pong uses a paddle.), she’s tall and hot and everything you seem to be looking for, but, alas, you’ve hit quite a snag and there are obvious reasons for this.
First of all, don’t blame the ‘stache. You kiddin’ me? Baseball players rock the dirty ‘stache all day and pull girls like Erin Andrews. Adam Morrison may even pull a solid amount of breezy’s. You never know.
Now let’s check out some of the other things you told me about her:
Going to Vandy next year.
You swooped in on her and stole her from her B.F.
Tall skinny Blonde.
To me, these three things tell your whole tale, son. Clearly you are going after a girl who is still in high school. Although being in high school doesn’t mean much isn’t much, it does mean she has more peer pressure. A girl who is still in high school will look at you differently for dropping out because her friends will hate on you. Friends hating is the #2 killer of men trying to get at women. #1 is another man hating.
Which brings me to my next point. You stole her from her boyfriend. That situation is always a shady one. Yea, you’re a boss for the move, but that means that the girl is open to that sort of thing and always looking for the next best thing.You time appeared to last a solid few weeks. Now, she’s realized whatever about you that doesnt like so she moves on. If it wasn’t him, it’d be someone else. Maybe one of my Boom Tho brothers somewhere would have swooped and made his move. Thing is, they realize that you can’t wife up a swoop. 112 has a song that goes “she got with you when she already had a man, why wouldn’t she cheat on you?” Words to live by, brotha.
Lastly, you said she was a gorgeous, tall, skinny, smart blonde. This may be your main problem, son. You met her, she was feelin you, and you almost immediately fell for her. You stole her away from her boyfriend, who you knew made her cry. You showed her another side that you probly don’t show all women. You gave her the side that would NEVER make her cry, and it worked for a short time. You were so impressed with her that you did all of these things and it worked -- for a short time.
The problem is that she’s gorgeous, tall, skinny, smart, and blonde. That means that 99% of men who meet her treat her that way. She enjoys it, but loses interest in those guys, eventually, because she’s a hot girl. Her current man makes her cry, which she hates, but he doesn’t treat her TOO well, either, which she loves. Watch “My Best Friends Girl.” You’re dusty, the other guy is Dane Cook. Ridiculously hot girls need to grow into a point where they are ready for a nice guy. They get too much smothering all the time to just buy in, especially before college.
Anyway, my final judgement is: cut the cord. Don’t steal girlfriends cuz it will come back later, and don’t be TOO nice, too early. Stay mad boom tho and do what you do, playa!
--Too Much
Got a question for Boom Tho? Hit me up
The New Boom
February/02/2009 10:38 PM Filed in: Random
In the next month, I’ll be dropping my first set of videos for 2009. Starting with “Boom Tho Girl 2,” I’ll then do my Dance Off video and “The Rockumentary 2,” among others. In these videos I’ll be wearing the new shirts featuring new designs that I feel are ridiculously boom tho. They’re all on the “Gear” page, but I’ll post them here too so you can see.
Keep rockin the movement!




The detail for the above shirt:

Keep rockin the movement!




The detail for the above shirt:

I Came Back to North Dakota and Craziness Came Back Into My Life
February/02/2009 08:33 PM Filed in: Dakota
I’ve been back up in North Dakota for quite some time and I didn’t think I’d get a lot of great blog material out of this place so quickly, but I did. I’ve actually taken many photo’s that help me to tell the stories, all except for one. So, here goes, the stories you can only get in Bismarck, North Dakota...
Oh yea, you can check out the old Dakota posts here.
There is no story to go along with the following photo’s, but you need to know how cold it was. It was somethin like 40 or 50 below. To tell the truth, anything below 10 feels like life as you know it will soon come to an end. I have no clue why anyone says there’s global warming when Dakota has their coldest, snowiest winter ever so far.


I hadn’t been to Buck’s in nearly 9 months, so I headed over there on a random Monday night. The place was empty, except for maybe 4 or 5 people, excluding myself and my two teammates. It sure as hell didn’t stop us from C-Walking, Cha Cha Sliding, and Cupid Shuffling. It didn’t stop us from playing Black Jack and it certainly didn’t stop us from getting handed a Hilary Clinton mask by the D.J. and wearing it the whole time:

Teammate in the mask, an old boom tho shirt, and two balloons under his shirt.

Hilary Clinton must be mad boom tho. She must be.
Then there was after Saturday’s game againts the Ft. Wayne Mad Ants. My boy Coleman Collins, his teammate Sean Sonderleiter, and I went to a bar called Stadium because I informed them that there was a Jukebox for the music and a table for the blackjack.
I won about $170 (baller, I know), then left the table about 10 minutes before the bar closed (at 1, grr). I walked over to talk to our game time P.A., Scott Woodmansee. He happened to be near a table that had a woman wearing a little white vest. I thought it’d be funny to put the vest on for a second since it was so small. I traded her for my sweatshirt and wore the white vest around for a couple minutes just to be funny.
When it was time to head out, we couldn’t get a taxi together so we had to scrap a ride. We found out that the white vest woman could give us a ride, so we headed out to the car. What we didn’t know was that she was there with her daughter, her daughters friend, and her daughters friend’s husband. Now we had to fit three 6’9”-6’10” guys in a car with 4 other people. It was a five seat SUV type thing so Sean sat in the trunk area, while Coleman, the Daughter and her friend, and I sat in the back, and the mother in the passenger seat while the husband drove. Oh yea, we found out that the mother was the mother at this point when she started arguing with the daughter. I had no clue because she was only 38 years old and the daughter was 22. This age dynamic would play a role very soon.
So all of us ballers thought we were going right to the Days Inn to drop the Mad Ants off, but we started taking some odd turns that I know weren’t quite the right way. I asked the driver out loud where we were going, because the Days Inn was the other way. The mother answered.
“We’re going to pick up Tyler first,” she said.
I think everyone in the car knew that there was nowhere for anyone else to fit in that bad boy. I was starting to suspect that she may have been a little drunk. Her daughter interrupted my thought process.
“We are NOT picking up Tyler mom. I tired of you f*$%king doing this $#!t!”
Coleman and I looked at each other like, “oh man, what have we gotten ourselves into?”
The mother and the daughter got into a heated argument that lasted nearly ten minutes. Finally, we pulled into an empty, snow covered parking lot. The mom hopped out and began yelling out Tyler’s name. This is the reason I remember his name and nobody else’s, because I heard this woman scream it out into the snowy distance for the next 15 minutes, occasionally turning back to the car to yell and argue with her daughter.
The mother gave up the Tyler search and got back into the car. That’s when some vital information came out.
“Mom, you’re such a bitch! You always want to f*&R^king hit on my friends, but Tyler is MY boyfriend, not yours!” the daughter yelled.
The truth was finally out, Tyler was daughters man, but Mom was making the move to find him. All of this happening while we sit, crammed in the back of some tiny car, waiting to get home.
The driver then told everyone that he knew where Tyler was. We started driving somewhere else -- not to the Days Inn. We stopped somewhere else and the mom got on the phone with Tyler, then hopped out. The daughter yelled out that Tyler couldn’t even fit in the car. The mom then yelled back: “He can sit on my lap, bitch!”
The daughter was oh so mad.
After a few minutes, mom came waltzing back with Tyler. Tyler was clearly drunk and stumbly and walked right up to the back right door, the door I was sitting next to. He flung open the door, looked at me and said “Who the f*&k is this? Get the f^%k out of the car! Who the f^%k are you?”
I calmly stepped out and took a step towards him. I towered over him and I think he assumed I was some short little punk he could say anything to, but that was not the case. He immediately began to apologize. He took his seat -- on top of mom’s lap -- and I got back into my seat, and we drove to the Days Inn. Finally.
After some more arguing, I ended up back at my apartment. Night over.
The next day was Super Bowl Sunday. Coleman and I went to Buffalo Wild Wings to see the game, eat some food, and chill. Here I am with my sooper dooper three dee glasses on:

After the game was over, we were sitting at the bar chillin, finishing our meals, when the bartender point to some guy in the walkway.
“He’s not being serious right now, right?”
I looked over. The guy stumbled left, then half stumbled right, then caught himself, then stumbled again.
I turned back to the bartender.
“Yea, I think he’s being for real. He’s just that drunk.”
See, I don’t know what it is about this place that makes people want to drink until they have an irregular heartbeat, but it’s got to be something in the air -- something that has yet to hit me.
We laughed at the guy and how he walked over to this table of women behind me. He had no balance or motor skills so he leaned all his weight onto their table. He was standing so funny due to his lack of balance. He was on his toes, but he was standing like he was on his heels. He looked like a flamingo with cerebral palsy.
I got back to Coleman and to talking with him and the people around me when all of sudden the bartender’s face turned pale. Her eyes grew big and her mouth opened. She almost stuttered but instead the words came right out.
“OMG He just pissed himself!”
I turned around and looked at him. I noticed what she did. There was a small wet spot around the zipper of his jeans. In real-time I watched it grow and grow and grow. Then I watched it go down his right leg slowly until it stopped around his knee. He had no clue. I then whipped out my BlackBerry, handed it to the bartender, and had her take a photo:

First, notice the guys right leg. There is clearly a wet spot. Next, notice the blonde next to him who is grossed out and trying to control her laughter. Now, notice his friend, who also has no clue about the urine. Last, notice me, thumbs up baby! Mad boom tho!
I must say, it’s good to be back in town! I’m here til mid-April. Who knows what will happen next?
Oh yea, you can check out the old Dakota posts here.
There is no story to go along with the following photo’s, but you need to know how cold it was. It was somethin like 40 or 50 below. To tell the truth, anything below 10 feels like life as you know it will soon come to an end. I have no clue why anyone says there’s global warming when Dakota has their coldest, snowiest winter ever so far.


I hadn’t been to Buck’s in nearly 9 months, so I headed over there on a random Monday night. The place was empty, except for maybe 4 or 5 people, excluding myself and my two teammates. It sure as hell didn’t stop us from C-Walking, Cha Cha Sliding, and Cupid Shuffling. It didn’t stop us from playing Black Jack and it certainly didn’t stop us from getting handed a Hilary Clinton mask by the D.J. and wearing it the whole time:

Teammate in the mask, an old boom tho shirt, and two balloons under his shirt.

Hilary Clinton must be mad boom tho. She must be.
Then there was after Saturday’s game againts the Ft. Wayne Mad Ants. My boy Coleman Collins, his teammate Sean Sonderleiter, and I went to a bar called Stadium because I informed them that there was a Jukebox for the music and a table for the blackjack.
I won about $170 (baller, I know), then left the table about 10 minutes before the bar closed (at 1, grr). I walked over to talk to our game time P.A., Scott Woodmansee. He happened to be near a table that had a woman wearing a little white vest. I thought it’d be funny to put the vest on for a second since it was so small. I traded her for my sweatshirt and wore the white vest around for a couple minutes just to be funny.
When it was time to head out, we couldn’t get a taxi together so we had to scrap a ride. We found out that the white vest woman could give us a ride, so we headed out to the car. What we didn’t know was that she was there with her daughter, her daughters friend, and her daughters friend’s husband. Now we had to fit three 6’9”-6’10” guys in a car with 4 other people. It was a five seat SUV type thing so Sean sat in the trunk area, while Coleman, the Daughter and her friend, and I sat in the back, and the mother in the passenger seat while the husband drove. Oh yea, we found out that the mother was the mother at this point when she started arguing with the daughter. I had no clue because she was only 38 years old and the daughter was 22. This age dynamic would play a role very soon.
So all of us ballers thought we were going right to the Days Inn to drop the Mad Ants off, but we started taking some odd turns that I know weren’t quite the right way. I asked the driver out loud where we were going, because the Days Inn was the other way. The mother answered.
“We’re going to pick up Tyler first,” she said.
I think everyone in the car knew that there was nowhere for anyone else to fit in that bad boy. I was starting to suspect that she may have been a little drunk. Her daughter interrupted my thought process.
“We are NOT picking up Tyler mom. I tired of you f*$%king doing this $#!t!”
Coleman and I looked at each other like, “oh man, what have we gotten ourselves into?”
The mother and the daughter got into a heated argument that lasted nearly ten minutes. Finally, we pulled into an empty, snow covered parking lot. The mom hopped out and began yelling out Tyler’s name. This is the reason I remember his name and nobody else’s, because I heard this woman scream it out into the snowy distance for the next 15 minutes, occasionally turning back to the car to yell and argue with her daughter.
The mother gave up the Tyler search and got back into the car. That’s when some vital information came out.
“Mom, you’re such a bitch! You always want to f*&R^king hit on my friends, but Tyler is MY boyfriend, not yours!” the daughter yelled.
The truth was finally out, Tyler was daughters man, but Mom was making the move to find him. All of this happening while we sit, crammed in the back of some tiny car, waiting to get home.
The driver then told everyone that he knew where Tyler was. We started driving somewhere else -- not to the Days Inn. We stopped somewhere else and the mom got on the phone with Tyler, then hopped out. The daughter yelled out that Tyler couldn’t even fit in the car. The mom then yelled back: “He can sit on my lap, bitch!”
The daughter was oh so mad.
After a few minutes, mom came waltzing back with Tyler. Tyler was clearly drunk and stumbly and walked right up to the back right door, the door I was sitting next to. He flung open the door, looked at me and said “Who the f*&k is this? Get the f^%k out of the car! Who the f^%k are you?”
I calmly stepped out and took a step towards him. I towered over him and I think he assumed I was some short little punk he could say anything to, but that was not the case. He immediately began to apologize. He took his seat -- on top of mom’s lap -- and I got back into my seat, and we drove to the Days Inn. Finally.
After some more arguing, I ended up back at my apartment. Night over.
The next day was Super Bowl Sunday. Coleman and I went to Buffalo Wild Wings to see the game, eat some food, and chill. Here I am with my sooper dooper three dee glasses on:

After the game was over, we were sitting at the bar chillin, finishing our meals, when the bartender point to some guy in the walkway.
“He’s not being serious right now, right?”
I looked over. The guy stumbled left, then half stumbled right, then caught himself, then stumbled again.
I turned back to the bartender.
“Yea, I think he’s being for real. He’s just that drunk.”
See, I don’t know what it is about this place that makes people want to drink until they have an irregular heartbeat, but it’s got to be something in the air -- something that has yet to hit me.
We laughed at the guy and how he walked over to this table of women behind me. He had no balance or motor skills so he leaned all his weight onto their table. He was standing so funny due to his lack of balance. He was on his toes, but he was standing like he was on his heels. He looked like a flamingo with cerebral palsy.
I got back to Coleman and to talking with him and the people around me when all of sudden the bartender’s face turned pale. Her eyes grew big and her mouth opened. She almost stuttered but instead the words came right out.
“OMG He just pissed himself!”
I turned around and looked at him. I noticed what she did. There was a small wet spot around the zipper of his jeans. In real-time I watched it grow and grow and grow. Then I watched it go down his right leg slowly until it stopped around his knee. He had no clue. I then whipped out my BlackBerry, handed it to the bartender, and had her take a photo:

First, notice the guys right leg. There is clearly a wet spot. Next, notice the blonde next to him who is grossed out and trying to control her laughter. Now, notice his friend, who also has no clue about the urine. Last, notice me, thumbs up baby! Mad boom tho!
I must say, it’s good to be back in town! I’m here til mid-April. Who knows what will happen next?
Clay's LOLBoom
January/28/2009 12:22 AM Filed in: LOLBoom
Clay knows about a lot more “I’m bored at work, what do I do now?” sites than I do. One day he told me about something called “LOLCat.” Basically they just put captions on funny photo’s of cats and people love it.
So, Clay decided he could do the same with popular photos here on TMRB. The difference being that he would have a boom tho related caption on his photos. He decided to call it “LOLBoom.”
He’s gonna update this a few times a week, if not more, so check back. Here’s the first couple:


So, Clay decided he could do the same with popular photos here on TMRB. The difference being that he would have a boom tho related caption on his photos. He decided to call it “LOLBoom.”
He’s gonna update this a few times a week, if not more, so check back. Here’s the first couple:


I Don't do "Dress Code"
January/23/2009 05:16 PM Filed in: Random
The day of the Emerald Bowl, Cal’s bowl game against Miami, all of my friends and I had grand plans for the day. We were going to wake up early, buy our tickets, support the bears, etc. The game started at 5pm so we figured we would head down to Momo’s at around noon to meet up with Prelle, Conor, and Chase for a full afternoon of tailgating.
At around 3PM, I finally made it over to Clay’s house and he was still asleep. So much for those plans. Grabbed some food and some drinks and decided to meet up with JGant who was at Dayo’s apartment (try to keep up) which was right by Momo’s which was where the other guys had been all day.
As we got dressed to get ready to leave, Clay put on his Cal sweatshirt and some jeans and whatever, figuring that he would come back to his apt before he went out later that night. I put on my New Jersey Nets sweats (I wear em all the time), a boom tho shirt, and my trusty Stewie Griffin slippers. When Clay questioned the slippers I, under the influence of some pre-tailgating, told him that I would not, under any circumstance, go anywhere or do anything else for the rest of the night WITHOUT my Stewie Slippers. Of course he had more questions and concerns, mainly regarding our after-party choices and the dress codes that coincide. (I also had on my favorite beanie -- not dress code friendly:

)
I told Clay that I knew the risks and that I didn’t care. He then said a statement that made me believe in myself even more.
“Well,” he admitted, “if anyone can pull it off, you can.”
We hopped a cab and headed down to meet JGant. He and seven other people were inside of Dayo’s apartment, while Dayo was at the game. That still makes no sense to me.
Everyone immediately questioned the shirt, then the beanie, then the slippers. I knew it was about to be a glorious evening. The tailgate was really no tailgate at al. It was just us watching the Cal domination from Dayo’s living room.
Towards the end of the game, it was time to head to Momo’s to meet the rest of the guys. It would be the Stewie slippers’ first test. Could I get into a decent restaurant/bar dressed like a comedian who was ready for bed? We were about to find out.
I walked right up to the bouncer, who didn’t notice my slips, dapped him up, and walked in. JGant and Clay seemed a bit shocked, but it wasn’t like Momo’s had a dress code, so they rolled with it.
After a few hours there, partying it up, I spotted my boys from EA Sports. Gary wanted to go to some other bar and meet up with some people in north beach, so I left with him to head over there and party some more. I got into that bar with no issues either. It was beginning to seem like I might be able to keep this streak alive all night and party w Stewie slippers on like I had vowed to earlier that afternoon.
When Gary called it a night, it was about 10:30PM. I was out by Clayton’s house, but Clayton was at Fluid with JGant and Cedric. It was now officially time to see if I was indeed the one who could “pull it off.” What you need to understand is that everywhere I went that day, people immediately noticed the slippers and were LOVING them. So theyweren’t exactly inconspicuous. The were actually a conversation starter (and the beanie) whenever I bumped into someone I didn’t know. You also need to understand that fluid is a real club with a real dress code, a line, and MANY bouncers, who have shut me down for wearing a hat before. It was about to get interesting.
I stepped out of the cab in front of Fluid. The line was average size, but I never wait in line there anyway (Ha, trust me, I’m not big time). I usually talk to my boy Big Matt out front and he lets me right in. I didn’t see Matt that night, but I did see the other guy who claims he can dunk on me, but usually lets me right in as well.
I walk up behind a group of people who have just paid for VIP bottle service. When I say behind, I mean RIGHT behind them. I actually went up so close, that there was no way my feet could be seen. My face, however, was easily visible, and the bouncer said I was cool to go in -- as long as I took the beanie off. Deal. I loitered a bit so that I could stay amongst the group and hide my feet.
When we all got in, they went right and I went left and found my boys. Clay couldn’t believe it. Heck, I couldn’t believe it. I was wearing big, floppy, red and yellow Family Guy slippers, blue sweats with 3 stripes all the way down the side, and a boom tho shirt inside of my favorite club. There was only one thing left to do: dance.
Clay and I went on an incredible dancing tear. Due to the super long “pre-party,” the whole thing is a little fuzzy in my mind, but the memory of fun remains very clear. Like all good things, however, it had to come to an end.
Clay told me that someone was hating, but I couldn’t see who, and I didn’t care. I was enjoying myself too much. All of a sudden, a VIP hostess and a bouncer were all up in my grill. My night in fluid was done. I had no regrets. It was my time to leave. Clay came right on with me as we re-grouped and made plans about our next spot. We would see the VIP hostess again a few days later at the Starlight Room and she informed us that the guys in her section got angry when they saw my slippers, because one of their boys wasn’t allowed in due to his faulty shoe game. Fair enough I guess.
We decided to head over to the marina and try our luck there. The marina is a place where there are a lot of bars without specific dress code rules, so we figured we would be alright. We headed over to Circa, which wasn’t the smartest move because they have a dress code and multiple bouncers outside. The line was also very, very long. The only reason we went is because I had some very strong persuasion by a member of the opposite sex.
So here we are, standing outside trying to strategize a way inside without waiting in line and without allowing them to notice my slippers. After strategizing for about 15 minutes, the girls came out and talked to the bouncer. Clutch play. We got right in, but with the condition that I had to take the beanie off again. Grrr. Still, there was no mention of the slippers, so once again there was a slippers, so I was still batting 1,000 for the night.
Clay and I kept dancing until it was time to go. If there was one downside about wearing the slippers it was that people kept wanting to step on them to see how puffy they were, or kick Stewie in the face, or put their high heels in his eye. I don’t understand what prompted that response, but I assume it was 75% alcohol related and 25% not knowing how to react to seeing someone wear those out on a random Saturday night.
Regardless, I had done the seemingly impossible. I had worn an outfit completely against all dress code rules from 3PM until 3AM. 12 hours of strict boom-tho-ness. I guess it’s true, if anyone could pull it off, it would be me.
At around 3PM, I finally made it over to Clay’s house and he was still asleep. So much for those plans. Grabbed some food and some drinks and decided to meet up with JGant who was at Dayo’s apartment (try to keep up) which was right by Momo’s which was where the other guys had been all day.
As we got dressed to get ready to leave, Clay put on his Cal sweatshirt and some jeans and whatever, figuring that he would come back to his apt before he went out later that night. I put on my New Jersey Nets sweats (I wear em all the time), a boom tho shirt, and my trusty Stewie Griffin slippers. When Clay questioned the slippers I, under the influence of some pre-tailgating, told him that I would not, under any circumstance, go anywhere or do anything else for the rest of the night WITHOUT my Stewie Slippers. Of course he had more questions and concerns, mainly regarding our after-party choices and the dress codes that coincide. (I also had on my favorite beanie -- not dress code friendly:

)
I told Clay that I knew the risks and that I didn’t care. He then said a statement that made me believe in myself even more.
“Well,” he admitted, “if anyone can pull it off, you can.”
We hopped a cab and headed down to meet JGant. He and seven other people were inside of Dayo’s apartment, while Dayo was at the game. That still makes no sense to me.
Everyone immediately questioned the shirt, then the beanie, then the slippers. I knew it was about to be a glorious evening. The tailgate was really no tailgate at al. It was just us watching the Cal domination from Dayo’s living room.
Towards the end of the game, it was time to head to Momo’s to meet the rest of the guys. It would be the Stewie slippers’ first test. Could I get into a decent restaurant/bar dressed like a comedian who was ready for bed? We were about to find out.
I walked right up to the bouncer, who didn’t notice my slips, dapped him up, and walked in. JGant and Clay seemed a bit shocked, but it wasn’t like Momo’s had a dress code, so they rolled with it.
After a few hours there, partying it up, I spotted my boys from EA Sports. Gary wanted to go to some other bar and meet up with some people in north beach, so I left with him to head over there and party some more. I got into that bar with no issues either. It was beginning to seem like I might be able to keep this streak alive all night and party w Stewie slippers on like I had vowed to earlier that afternoon.
When Gary called it a night, it was about 10:30PM. I was out by Clayton’s house, but Clayton was at Fluid with JGant and Cedric. It was now officially time to see if I was indeed the one who could “pull it off.” What you need to understand is that everywhere I went that day, people immediately noticed the slippers and were LOVING them. So theyweren’t exactly inconspicuous. The were actually a conversation starter (and the beanie) whenever I bumped into someone I didn’t know. You also need to understand that fluid is a real club with a real dress code, a line, and MANY bouncers, who have shut me down for wearing a hat before. It was about to get interesting.
I stepped out of the cab in front of Fluid. The line was average size, but I never wait in line there anyway (Ha, trust me, I’m not big time). I usually talk to my boy Big Matt out front and he lets me right in. I didn’t see Matt that night, but I did see the other guy who claims he can dunk on me, but usually lets me right in as well.
I walk up behind a group of people who have just paid for VIP bottle service. When I say behind, I mean RIGHT behind them. I actually went up so close, that there was no way my feet could be seen. My face, however, was easily visible, and the bouncer said I was cool to go in -- as long as I took the beanie off. Deal. I loitered a bit so that I could stay amongst the group and hide my feet.
When we all got in, they went right and I went left and found my boys. Clay couldn’t believe it. Heck, I couldn’t believe it. I was wearing big, floppy, red and yellow Family Guy slippers, blue sweats with 3 stripes all the way down the side, and a boom tho shirt inside of my favorite club. There was only one thing left to do: dance.
Clay and I went on an incredible dancing tear. Due to the super long “pre-party,” the whole thing is a little fuzzy in my mind, but the memory of fun remains very clear. Like all good things, however, it had to come to an end.
Clay told me that someone was hating, but I couldn’t see who, and I didn’t care. I was enjoying myself too much. All of a sudden, a VIP hostess and a bouncer were all up in my grill. My night in fluid was done. I had no regrets. It was my time to leave. Clay came right on with me as we re-grouped and made plans about our next spot. We would see the VIP hostess again a few days later at the Starlight Room and she informed us that the guys in her section got angry when they saw my slippers, because one of their boys wasn’t allowed in due to his faulty shoe game. Fair enough I guess.
We decided to head over to the marina and try our luck there. The marina is a place where there are a lot of bars without specific dress code rules, so we figured we would be alright. We headed over to Circa, which wasn’t the smartest move because they have a dress code and multiple bouncers outside. The line was also very, very long. The only reason we went is because I had some very strong persuasion by a member of the opposite sex.
So here we are, standing outside trying to strategize a way inside without waiting in line and without allowing them to notice my slippers. After strategizing for about 15 minutes, the girls came out and talked to the bouncer. Clutch play. We got right in, but with the condition that I had to take the beanie off again. Grrr. Still, there was no mention of the slippers, so once again there was a slippers, so I was still batting 1,000 for the night.
Clay and I kept dancing until it was time to go. If there was one downside about wearing the slippers it was that people kept wanting to step on them to see how puffy they were, or kick Stewie in the face, or put their high heels in his eye. I don’t understand what prompted that response, but I assume it was 75% alcohol related and 25% not knowing how to react to seeing someone wear those out on a random Saturday night.
Regardless, I had done the seemingly impossible. I had worn an outfit completely against all dress code rules from 3PM until 3AM. 12 hours of strict boom-tho-ness. I guess it’s true, if anyone could pull it off, it would be me.
Don't Urinate on the Stock Room Floor!
January/13/2009 08:00 PM Filed in: Random
On the Monday before Christmas, I was in San Francisco chillin with my boy Clay. He wanted to go check out a bar in the Marina called “Gravity.” So, I rolled with him down the this bar and it had a huge line that the bouncers were holding (effin bouncers holding effin lines). I hate when that happens, so I suggested we go next door to Jones and wait there until the line died down or until they started letting people in.
We walked into Jones and sat down and there was just the bartender and a couple of girls at the bar. Clay’s a lightweight, so it didnt take much more than a couple Patron shots and a mixed drink to get him feeling frisky right off the bat.
We were enjoying ourselves and our impromptu pre-party when a group of five young women walked in and sat at the bar also. Now it’s me, Clay, and seven women at this bar. That’s when the fun started.
Clay has a BIG thing for Asian women and one of the girls just happened to be Asian, so he was zoned in. I started watching Clay, who was staring down the Asian girl, who was too drunk to comprehend anything at all.
To be honest, her whole crew was RIDICULOUSLY drunk. I couldn’t tell immediately, but Clay must have had his drunk-dar on high reception, because he seemed to hone in on the group and their actions. He was watching as they climbed over the bar and made their own drinks. He was watching when they fell out of their stools and chairs, laughing the way that drunk college girls tend to laugh when even they realize how drunk they are.
All of a sudden, Clay made his move. He yelled out, to all seven women at once: “who wants to do body shots?!”
I, personally, thought he was being ridiculous and that they would call both of us creepers since we were the only two men in there. Instead they started cheering. Clay started to unbutton his shirt as he stood up. I couldn’t believe it was really going to go down like this. In fact, all the girls were cheering on the Asian girl to let Clay take the body shots off of her. She was a little hesitant though and took her sweet time deciding if she wanted to go through with it. All the while, Clay was looking around, shirt unbuttoned, asking people “so, are we gonna do this or what?”
After about ten minutes of what basically amounted to the girl getting even more drunk, drunk enough to have no control over her decisions, she agreed to let Clayton take his body shot. With all her girls cheering, she laid down on the bar. Clay was handed a cup full of Patron (yea, a cup, not a shot) from which he then poured a small amount onto her stomach. He leaned in and hit the shot. Someone then shouted “do another one,” so he did. The girl didn’t move or seem to care, so he went on to do six more. The whole scene was pretty ridiculous.
Clay sat back down next to me (I hadn’t moved) and let the alcohol sit it. He was now drunk. The girls were still doing shots and getting more drunk. I was laughing at everyone and everything because it was quite funny. Seriously, the girl to my left started singing “Silent Night.” Like REALLY singing it like she was in the choir. The girl to her left started talking to Clay. Although I didn’t catch much, I did catch a phone number exchange and I SWEAR she said (cover your eyes if you don’t like Rated R): “c*m on my face!” I still have no clue as to why. I was the only sober person in the building besides the bartender.
All of a sudden, Clay gets down on the ground and starts ding push-ups. I gave him a look that said: “you gotta be kidding me,” but it was pretty funny. It got funnier when all the girls got down on the floor and they had a push-up contest. I guess alcohol gave them all extra chest muscle or something, because the all did upwards of 30 push-ups each.
They were still debating who did the most push-ups when somebody yelled out “hey! Everybody get the f*^k out! Bar’s closed!”
It was the bartender, and he had the asian girl thrown over his shoulder like a wet beach towel. I didn’t even notice she was gone from her friends who were doing push ups and arguing for the past 20 minutes. Everyone then turns and looks at the bartender, who is livid.
“Everyone’s got to go, I caught this girl, pants down, pissing on my stock room floor. Get her out of here and go home.”
Her pants did look like she may have missed the floor a little bit. That’s when Clay and I took our cues and left. Clay tried Facebooking all of the girls before he went to bed, but as far as I know, none of them have accepted. Cold blooded. He’ll always have his body shots though
We walked into Jones and sat down and there was just the bartender and a couple of girls at the bar. Clay’s a lightweight, so it didnt take much more than a couple Patron shots and a mixed drink to get him feeling frisky right off the bat.
We were enjoying ourselves and our impromptu pre-party when a group of five young women walked in and sat at the bar also. Now it’s me, Clay, and seven women at this bar. That’s when the fun started.
Clay has a BIG thing for Asian women and one of the girls just happened to be Asian, so he was zoned in. I started watching Clay, who was staring down the Asian girl, who was too drunk to comprehend anything at all.
To be honest, her whole crew was RIDICULOUSLY drunk. I couldn’t tell immediately, but Clay must have had his drunk-dar on high reception, because he seemed to hone in on the group and their actions. He was watching as they climbed over the bar and made their own drinks. He was watching when they fell out of their stools and chairs, laughing the way that drunk college girls tend to laugh when even they realize how drunk they are.
All of a sudden, Clay made his move. He yelled out, to all seven women at once: “who wants to do body shots?!”
I, personally, thought he was being ridiculous and that they would call both of us creepers since we were the only two men in there. Instead they started cheering. Clay started to unbutton his shirt as he stood up. I couldn’t believe it was really going to go down like this. In fact, all the girls were cheering on the Asian girl to let Clay take the body shots off of her. She was a little hesitant though and took her sweet time deciding if she wanted to go through with it. All the while, Clay was looking around, shirt unbuttoned, asking people “so, are we gonna do this or what?”
After about ten minutes of what basically amounted to the girl getting even more drunk, drunk enough to have no control over her decisions, she agreed to let Clayton take his body shot. With all her girls cheering, she laid down on the bar. Clay was handed a cup full of Patron (yea, a cup, not a shot) from which he then poured a small amount onto her stomach. He leaned in and hit the shot. Someone then shouted “do another one,” so he did. The girl didn’t move or seem to care, so he went on to do six more. The whole scene was pretty ridiculous.
Clay sat back down next to me (I hadn’t moved) and let the alcohol sit it. He was now drunk. The girls were still doing shots and getting more drunk. I was laughing at everyone and everything because it was quite funny. Seriously, the girl to my left started singing “Silent Night.” Like REALLY singing it like she was in the choir. The girl to her left started talking to Clay. Although I didn’t catch much, I did catch a phone number exchange and I SWEAR she said (cover your eyes if you don’t like Rated R): “c*m on my face!” I still have no clue as to why. I was the only sober person in the building besides the bartender.
All of a sudden, Clay gets down on the ground and starts ding push-ups. I gave him a look that said: “you gotta be kidding me,” but it was pretty funny. It got funnier when all the girls got down on the floor and they had a push-up contest. I guess alcohol gave them all extra chest muscle or something, because the all did upwards of 30 push-ups each.
They were still debating who did the most push-ups when somebody yelled out “hey! Everybody get the f*^k out! Bar’s closed!”
It was the bartender, and he had the asian girl thrown over his shoulder like a wet beach towel. I didn’t even notice she was gone from her friends who were doing push ups and arguing for the past 20 minutes. Everyone then turns and looks at the bartender, who is livid.
“Everyone’s got to go, I caught this girl, pants down, pissing on my stock room floor. Get her out of here and go home.”
Her pants did look like she may have missed the floor a little bit. That’s when Clay and I took our cues and left. Clay tried Facebooking all of the girls before he went to bed, but as far as I know, none of them have accepted. Cold blooded. He’ll always have his body shots though
My Blessings
January/13/2009 07:59 PM Filed in: Random
The other day I got an e-mail that made me laugh out loud. I get a lot of boom tho related e-mail, and 99.99% of it is really cool, great stuff from good people. Then I got this:
Your Name: alex blakeney
Your Email: alexblakeney@yahoo.com
Subject: give it up
Message: give it up Rod. you are not that good. you should have stayed in europe. how much do you want to bet that you never make it to the NBA this year? $50, $100, $500, $1000? you got no game
I got this while I was at the D-League showcase and I was surrounded by other ballers and officials. We laughed, hard, then they told me that I had to respond, so I did:
Alex,
Thanks for your constructive input. I will strongly consider the questions posed.
Keep supporting the movement!
Rod
I went on about my day.
The next day, I got another response:
I was once again surrounded by other players, including my boy (and soon to be blogging here on TMRB) Coleman Collins who said this guy was ridiculous, a hater, and stupid. To quote Coleman:
“What does this guy think you’re gonna just go quit basketball today because he sent you this message? What does he expect to come out of this? Idiot.”
Coleman is a smart guy who has a point, but the e-mail did kind of get me to thinking. See, as cool as it would be to get called up this season, I’ve been here before and I haven’t. So what if I don’t? Did I waste my time? The answer, clearly, is no. Here’s why:
-- I spent 4 months in France and made more tax free money than every one of my friends, and most of the American public.
-- I haven’t payed rent since college.
-- I work for a few hours a day and spend the rest being creative.
-- I get to travel the country, and the globe, and get paid to do it.
-- My job is FUN.
-- I can go back to Europe in a heartbeat and make big money for the rest of my days. I made enough this year to where I feel comfortable chillin for a bit.
Those, among other reasons clearly indicate that playing hoops, at any level, is one of the best jobs there is. I’ll bet $50, $100, $500 on that! I, and every person I play with, am blessed to be able bodied and skilled enough to do it. So, I actually thank Mr. Blakeney for helping me to remind me of why I do it. 2009 is gonna be huge, I can feel it! In other words: “my horn can pierce the sky!”
Your Name: alex blakeney
Your Email: alexblakeney@yahoo.com
Subject: give it up
Message: give it up Rod. you are not that good. you should have stayed in europe. how much do you want to bet that you never make it to the NBA this year? $50, $100, $500, $1000? you got no game
I got this while I was at the D-League showcase and I was surrounded by other ballers and officials. We laughed, hard, then they told me that I had to respond, so I did:
Alex,
Thanks for your constructive input. I will strongly consider the questions posed.
Keep supporting the movement!
Rod
I went on about my day.
The next day, I got another response:
| face it, you had one good year at Cal, the other 3 were sub par at best. I guess it is hard for me to see an otherwise mulit- talented individual waste good years on pursuing something that is not feasible. sorry bro, sometimes you need to let the dream go and get on with your life. |
“What does this guy think you’re gonna just go quit basketball today because he sent you this message? What does he expect to come out of this? Idiot.”
Coleman is a smart guy who has a point, but the e-mail did kind of get me to thinking. See, as cool as it would be to get called up this season, I’ve been here before and I haven’t. So what if I don’t? Did I waste my time? The answer, clearly, is no. Here’s why:
-- I spent 4 months in France and made more tax free money than every one of my friends, and most of the American public.
-- I haven’t payed rent since college.
-- I work for a few hours a day and spend the rest being creative.
-- I get to travel the country, and the globe, and get paid to do it.
-- My job is FUN.
-- I can go back to Europe in a heartbeat and make big money for the rest of my days. I made enough this year to where I feel comfortable chillin for a bit.
Those, among other reasons clearly indicate that playing hoops, at any level, is one of the best jobs there is. I’ll bet $50, $100, $500 on that! I, and every person I play with, am blessed to be able bodied and skilled enough to do it. So, I actually thank Mr. Blakeney for helping me to remind me of why I do it. 2009 is gonna be huge, I can feel it! In other words: “my horn can pierce the sky!”
LMFAO Gets Groupies!
January/10/2009 12:13 PM Filed in: Random
I’ve been away from the court for the better part of the last month, but it clearly led me to really enjoy myself. I basically had a winter vacation for the first time since I was a high school freshman. One of my first orders of business was to get out and party with my boys, because I never get to do that outside of a couple summer months.
I was loungin at Clay’s apartment, trying to figure out our plans for the night, when we were told that LMFAO would be performing at one of my favorite spots, FLUID Ultralounge. We looked up LMFAO on MySpace music to see if we knew any of their songs and, sure enough, I had heard a couple of them before. I really like their song called “I am not a whore.” Thats some quality electronic hip hop right there. They also sing “I’m in Miami, bitch.”
So we cabbed it over to Fluid later that night to catch the performance and to get our dance party on.

When we got there I realized that the crowd was about 70% women and that they were dressed like it was a sexy halloween party:


Maybe that should have been an indicator of the extreme groupie-ism that was about to transpire, but I just considered it to be a good ratio. Then the group started performing and every woman in there went buck-wild.


I just don’t understand why the girls go crazy like that? They had a fat guy walk around the club and invite girls backstage for little rendezvous all night. They pulled their pants down and grinded on hella women. They pulled tops down and signed bare boobies. They made out with half the women WHILE PERFORMING. The funniest part is that their song is called “I AM NOT A WHORE!”

Look at Exhibit A above. Girl on right has the two handed wrap-hug/smile-for-the-camera pose going on. Girl on left has completely neglected the camera, because she has floppy tongue in her mouth. She completely ignores the fact that this picture is on NapkinNights.com and can be seen by the entire world. Afro-headed LMFAO member in the middle has his pants down, Carolina blue tight boxers, his tongue out, his sunglass lenses in the garbage and his eyes closed. I swear this photo was taken while he was on stage performing.
In the spirit of not hating, I think this is a signal that I need to hold special live performances for “Boom Got Them Three.” If LMFAO is any indication of how these small concerts go, I should be pants down, tongue out, eyes closed be the start of my second verse.
I was loungin at Clay’s apartment, trying to figure out our plans for the night, when we were told that LMFAO would be performing at one of my favorite spots, FLUID Ultralounge. We looked up LMFAO on MySpace music to see if we knew any of their songs and, sure enough, I had heard a couple of them before. I really like their song called “I am not a whore.” Thats some quality electronic hip hop right there. They also sing “I’m in Miami, bitch.”
So we cabbed it over to Fluid later that night to catch the performance and to get our dance party on.

When we got there I realized that the crowd was about 70% women and that they were dressed like it was a sexy halloween party:
Maybe that should have been an indicator of the extreme groupie-ism that was about to transpire, but I just considered it to be a good ratio. Then the group started performing and every woman in there went buck-wild.
I just don’t understand why the girls go crazy like that? They had a fat guy walk around the club and invite girls backstage for little rendezvous all night. They pulled their pants down and grinded on hella women. They pulled tops down and signed bare boobies. They made out with half the women WHILE PERFORMING. The funniest part is that their song is called “I AM NOT A WHORE!”

Look at Exhibit A above. Girl on right has the two handed wrap-hug/smile-for-the-camera pose going on. Girl on left has completely neglected the camera, because she has floppy tongue in her mouth. She completely ignores the fact that this picture is on NapkinNights.com and can be seen by the entire world. Afro-headed LMFAO member in the middle has his pants down, Carolina blue tight boxers, his tongue out, his sunglass lenses in the garbage and his eyes closed. I swear this photo was taken while he was on stage performing.
In the spirit of not hating, I think this is a signal that I need to hold special live performances for “Boom Got Them Three.” If LMFAO is any indication of how these small concerts go, I should be pants down, tongue out, eyes closed be the start of my second verse.
My Horn Can Pierce the Sky!
December/12/2008 11:58 AM Filed in: France!
There’s a place in France
Where the naked ladies dance
There’s a hole in the wall
Where you can see it all
Just kidding, kind of, I didn’t see
The hole in the wall was too short for me
But I didn’t come here for the trouble
I came to get the double doubles
Alas, that chance for me never came
I sat on the bench the entire game!
The reason? No reason, just haterism
So I partook in some grand tourism
Barcelona and Florence, I saw it all
But I would have preferred to see the ball
Think of me just like you would Vinny Chase
On the set of Smoke Jumpers, such a disgrace
But While I was there I got a lot done
I ate fois gros and drank wine with my man Julian
I dominated the Nancy Mario Kart Circuit
And saw TJ Parker get a $22K haircut
I brought all the hype and none of the drama
And I screwed Sarah Palin -- by voting OBAMA
So now I must go to another place
I’ll do like the Joker and put a smile on your face
Them hold me down? Id like to see em try
But don’t forget, my horn can pierce the sky!
A Blackberry, Paris, a Train, a Taxi, and a Faulty Card That Nearly Led to my Demise.
December/08/2008 02:53 PM Filed in: France!
Before you hear this story, you need to understand that I bought a Blackberry Storm here in France about a week ago. I got it here so that I could use my ATT card in it and get 3G speeds. It has been a bit of a process to get it unlocked though and, after searching all week, I discovered a place in Paris that could unlock it effortlessly. Today I had a day off and attempted to get this done. This is my story.
[It was written as an AIM message originally so disregard the grammar and formatting]
So I woke up at like 1230 or 1 today, mapquested the two places that were sposed to be able to handle my phone, found the closer one and wrote the address down
I got in the taxi, and showed him the place
1 was a perfect time because my train back to Nancy was leaving at 4
I get to the phone place at about 130
the guy there said something like "5 hours"
either he meant come back at 5 or that it would be ready at 630
either way, I was going to have to get a new train and find something to do for 5 hours
So I went to lunch at Hippo which is like a TGIFridays style place
got my lunch and tried to pay
my card didnt work
my effin ffrench card has a weird 30-day spending limit
so it just works basically when it feels like it because I bought clothes online
So there was a very embarrassing situation in the restuarant
and they couldnt understand me anyways
We basically just ran the card 6 times and on time 6 it worked
but I tried to go to an ATM afterward and I was NOT able to take out any money
at all
and I had no cash
and the phone would cost 60Euro for the unlock anyways
so I was kind of panicking and I had to catch Taxis all over to get back anyways
So, after 5 hours sitting in a hotel lobby, I got in a taxi, figuring that the card would probably work at an ATM now and I had to pick up the phone and get to the train station
so we drive up to the Phone place which is on an VERY busy street
the cab driver speaks NO english whatsoever and I'm trying to tell him to wait outside for me while I run in and grab the phone
I am debating wether or not to take my bag inside with me, but I decide against it because I want him to know that Im serious about coming back out
when I get into the phone place the guy tells me to hold on for like 5 min
so I go back outside, check on the taxi, hes chillin, and I go to the bank next door to try to take out money
NO DICE
I cant pay for the phone ANYWAY
I got back into the phoen store and the guy tells me that they need to hold my phone for 3 days
and Im like nope cant do it cuz I live in Nancy
plsu I cant pay regardless
I grab the phone and go back outside
TAXI IS GONE
out of panic, and knowing that my laptop is in the bag, I just take off running towards where some taxis are up the street
after like 3 steps, EVERYTHING in my pockets falls out
including the brand new phone
SCRATCHED
I have to spend like 1 minute and a half collecting my things
I didnt realize how much sh** was in my pockets
3 phones
ipod
hella change
and I NEEDED that change
once I collect it all, the taxi driver pulls up
I guess he had to move cuz of a bus
finally a break
get in the taxi and head to the train station
but the bill is like 20 euro and I have like 8
in 50 cent coins
so I propose we go by a bank so I can try to take out just 20 euro
thinking that would worrk
we go to the bank and NO DICE
no money
I tell him that I DID get the money out and to drive back to the train station
on the way I scour my bag and my clothes from the night before
there just happens to be 25 euros in my jeans pocket
my tab was 24
I get out of the taxi with like 14 mintues to go until the last train leaves to come back to Nancy
but I have to change my ticket so I am hustling
i spend 5 minutes just trying to find the ticket office cuz all i see are automated things
I finally find it, go to the counter and start searching my pockets
for a ticket that ISNT TEHRE
lost
somewhere in the mayhem
the guy says that he CAN NOT give me a new one
I have to buy it
So I walk to the corner and just sit down
like no way am I going to be stuck in this trian station overnight cuz I cant go ANYWHERE
I decide to give my card a try in one of the automated things
IT WORKS
50Euro
wtf
get my ticket with NOT EVEN A MINUTE to spare
and sprint to my train
make it home
the end
[It was written as an AIM message originally so disregard the grammar and formatting]
So I woke up at like 1230 or 1 today, mapquested the two places that were sposed to be able to handle my phone, found the closer one and wrote the address down
I got in the taxi, and showed him the place
1 was a perfect time because my train back to Nancy was leaving at 4
I get to the phone place at about 130
the guy there said something like "5 hours"
either he meant come back at 5 or that it would be ready at 630
either way, I was going to have to get a new train and find something to do for 5 hours
So I went to lunch at Hippo which is like a TGIFridays style place
got my lunch and tried to pay
my card didnt work
my effin ffrench card has a weird 30-day spending limit
so it just works basically when it feels like it because I bought clothes online
So there was a very embarrassing situation in the restuarant
and they couldnt understand me anyways
We basically just ran the card 6 times and on time 6 it worked
but I tried to go to an ATM afterward and I was NOT able to take out any money
at all
and I had no cash
and the phone would cost 60Euro for the unlock anyways
so I was kind of panicking and I had to catch Taxis all over to get back anyways
So, after 5 hours sitting in a hotel lobby, I got in a taxi, figuring that the card would probably work at an ATM now and I had to pick up the phone and get to the train station
so we drive up to the Phone place which is on an VERY busy street
the cab driver speaks NO english whatsoever and I'm trying to tell him to wait outside for me while I run in and grab the phone
I am debating wether or not to take my bag inside with me, but I decide against it because I want him to know that Im serious about coming back out
when I get into the phone place the guy tells me to hold on for like 5 min
so I go back outside, check on the taxi, hes chillin, and I go to the bank next door to try to take out money
NO DICE
I cant pay for the phone ANYWAY
I got back into the phoen store and the guy tells me that they need to hold my phone for 3 days
and Im like nope cant do it cuz I live in Nancy
plsu I cant pay regardless
I grab the phone and go back outside
TAXI IS GONE
out of panic, and knowing that my laptop is in the bag, I just take off running towards where some taxis are up the street
after like 3 steps, EVERYTHING in my pockets falls out
including the brand new phone
SCRATCHED
I have to spend like 1 minute and a half collecting my things
I didnt realize how much sh** was in my pockets
3 phones
ipod
hella change
and I NEEDED that change
once I collect it all, the taxi driver pulls up
I guess he had to move cuz of a bus
finally a break
get in the taxi and head to the train station
but the bill is like 20 euro and I have like 8
in 50 cent coins
so I propose we go by a bank so I can try to take out just 20 euro
thinking that would worrk
we go to the bank and NO DICE
no money
I tell him that I DID get the money out and to drive back to the train station
on the way I scour my bag and my clothes from the night before
there just happens to be 25 euros in my jeans pocket
my tab was 24
I get out of the taxi with like 14 mintues to go until the last train leaves to come back to Nancy
but I have to change my ticket so I am hustling
i spend 5 minutes just trying to find the ticket office cuz all i see are automated things
I finally find it, go to the counter and start searching my pockets
for a ticket that ISNT TEHRE
lost
somewhere in the mayhem
the guy says that he CAN NOT give me a new one
I have to buy it
So I walk to the corner and just sit down
like no way am I going to be stuck in this trian station overnight cuz I cant go ANYWHERE
I decide to give my card a try in one of the automated things
IT WORKS
50Euro
wtf
get my ticket with NOT EVEN A MINUTE to spare
and sprint to my train
make it home
the end
Stalker Update or Why I Can't be Facebook Friends with French People Anymore
December/08/2008 02:28 PM Filed in: France!
So, first of all, the stalker is running around telling people that we talk all the time. Still! From what I was told, she has been chatting with “me” on MSN messenger, even after I made it clear to her and every other person of interest that I DO NOT use MSN messenger. I took her OFF my Facebook friends and told her to check herself.
Well, apparently that didn’t work because she has also told people that I asked her to meet me in Barcelona and I that I waved to her in the stands because she REALLY WENT DOWN TO BARCA FOR THE GAME!
Besides just her, I’ve been told that the French fans take pictures from my Facebook profile and paste them into various other sites. Sometimes with negative comments, sometimes without, but always party pictures or pictures from my day off. Maybe my days of putting up photo’s should come to an end anyway, or maybe I should finally stop adding anybody who wants to be my friend. JGant has been monitoring his FB pics for a long time now because his job checks it. I guess, as a professional, it’s time I did the same.
What do you think?
Well, apparently that didn’t work because she has also told people that I asked her to meet me in Barcelona and I that I waved to her in the stands because she REALLY WENT DOWN TO BARCA FOR THE GAME!
Besides just her, I’ve been told that the French fans take pictures from my Facebook profile and paste them into various other sites. Sometimes with negative comments, sometimes without, but always party pictures or pictures from my day off. Maybe my days of putting up photo’s should come to an end anyway, or maybe I should finally stop adding anybody who wants to be my friend. JGant has been monitoring his FB pics for a long time now because his job checks it. I guess, as a professional, it’s time I did the same.
What do you think?
It's So Cold!
December/08/2008 02:26 PM Filed in: Random
I Have a Real Life Stalker (Finally)
November/14/2008 10:09 AM Filed in: France!
---the names have been changed to protect myself---
During my second week here in France (early September), I logged onto Facebook and did my normal add-friends-poke-back-wall-post deal as usual. Unlike MySpace, I never really check who I’m adding, I just do. The ‘book is just not as crazy as MySpace so I don’t find the need for background checks.
Well, maybe that time has come, because just when I thought Mark Zuckerberg had made it safe to Facebook, I got a message from “Julie” on Facebook messenger:
“Welcome to Nancy! I am excited that you are here.”
“Thanks,” I answered.
“I am friends with your teammate. I saw your practice today.”
“Have I met you before?” I asked.
“No. Just saying hi,” she replied.
Like most random people who hit me up on FB Messenger, she just wanted to say hi. I was fine with that.
A few days later, she hit me up again.
“How are you?”
“I’m cool,” I answered.
“I miss you,” she said.
“Wait, what? I don’t even know you. I’ve never met you before.”
The whole “I miss you” thing
“Why are you being mean? O.K. then. Goodbye,” she wrote.
The next day at practice I told my teammates about the whole interaction. Naturally, they asked how she looked. I tried to help them focus on the point of the matter. She had never met me and she missed me. That pretty much negates everything else anyway.
So a few days later, I was with my man Lamayn at a local club and she showed up. I felt kinda bad about what I last said to her and since this was our first meeting, I apologized, but told her that it’s not normal for someone to miss someone they had never met.
The next day she hit me up on FB Messenger again.
“So are we still on for Friday?”
“What do you mean are we still on?” I asked her.
“You told me we would get together on Friday.”
“No, I didn’t. I said one sentence to you. I never said anything about that.”
“Why do you change your mind?”
“I DIDNT TELL YOU THAT SO MY MIND NEVER CHANGED.”
“Then when you are ready to spend time with me let me know,” she said.
Then an hour later:
“You can just tell me if you want to hang out with me or not,” she said.
I wasn’t near my computer so it went unanswered.
“Fine. I guess I have my answer,” she wrote.
A week later she sent me a message about how she doesn’t want me to leave the team and that she read in the local paper that I could be leaving soon. I disregarded it.
Fast forward to November 8th.
I had just gotten back home from a road trip to Cholet. It was 1:15 AM and I was about to leave my spot to go to Lamayns to pick him up and hit the club.
As I walked out of front of my apartment building, there was “Julie” at the call box.
“Who are you here to see?” I asked, befuddled.
“Don’t do this to me,” she said.
“Don’t do what? You’re clearly not here to see me.”
“Please don’t do this, not again. You know I’m here to see you.”
“Are you serious right now? I didn’t invite you here. Don’t do what to you?”
“You told me to come over.”
“No, I didn’t. I’m clearly leaving. It’s 1:20 in the morning. I’m going downtown. I was supposed to meet up with Lamayn 5 minutes ago,” I informed her.
She started getting teary eyed and I felt a little bad.
“Where, when, how did I tell you to meet me here right now?” I asked her.
“We spoke on MSN,” she answered.
“Well, I don’t have MSN. People in the US use AIM. MSN is for Frenchy’s. Everyone knows that I don’t have MSN. If thats true, what’s my screen name?”
“It’s Boom Tho,” she mumbled.
“I mean, that appears to be a good guess, but I don’t have MSN so someone is playing a joke on you or you’re lying.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said. “I think you’re lying to me.”
“YOU don’t believe ME?” I nearly yelled out. “O.K. I’ll prove it to you.”
It was nearing 1:30 now, but I didn’t care. I ran upstairs and grabbed my laptop. I brought it back down and proceeded to scroll through all my apps. MSN was nowhere to be found. I then took the laptop back upstairs and came back down. She was teary eyed again.
Maybe she thought I was going to invite her up or something but that was the furthest thought from my mind. I was late for party time with Lamayn.
“So there you have it. Sorry to tell you, but either you’re being pranked, or you’re lying to me. Either way, I have to go.”
I got in my car and left and had a great time that night. I ended our Facebook friendship (first time I’ve ever ended a FB friendship) and I haven’t heard from her since.
The End.
During my second week here in France (early September), I logged onto Facebook and did my normal add-friends-poke-back-wall-post deal as usual. Unlike MySpace, I never really check who I’m adding, I just do. The ‘book is just not as crazy as MySpace so I don’t find the need for background checks.
Well, maybe that time has come, because just when I thought Mark Zuckerberg had made it safe to Facebook, I got a message from “Julie” on Facebook messenger:
“Welcome to Nancy! I am excited that you are here.”
“Thanks,” I answered.
“I am friends with your teammate. I saw your practice today.”
“Have I met you before?” I asked.
“No. Just saying hi,” she replied.
Like most random people who hit me up on FB Messenger, she just wanted to say hi. I was fine with that.
A few days later, she hit me up again.
“How are you?”
“I’m cool,” I answered.
“I miss you,” she said.
“Wait, what? I don’t even know you. I’ve never met you before.”
The whole “I miss you” thing
“Why are you being mean? O.K. then. Goodbye,” she wrote.
The next day at practice I told my teammates about the whole interaction. Naturally, they asked how she looked. I tried to help them focus on the point of the matter. She had never met me and she missed me. That pretty much negates everything else anyway.
So a few days later, I was with my man Lamayn at a local club and she showed up. I felt kinda bad about what I last said to her and since this was our first meeting, I apologized, but told her that it’s not normal for someone to miss someone they had never met.
The next day she hit me up on FB Messenger again.
“So are we still on for Friday?”
“What do you mean are we still on?” I asked her.
“You told me we would get together on Friday.”
“No, I didn’t. I said one sentence to you. I never said anything about that.”
“Why do you change your mind?”
“I DIDNT TELL YOU THAT SO MY MIND NEVER CHANGED.”
“Then when you are ready to spend time with me let me know,” she said.
Then an hour later:
“You can just tell me if you want to hang out with me or not,” she said.
I wasn’t near my computer so it went unanswered.
“Fine. I guess I have my answer,” she wrote.
A week later she sent me a message about how she doesn’t want me to leave the team and that she read in the local paper that I could be leaving soon. I disregarded it.
Fast forward to November 8th.
I had just gotten back home from a road trip to Cholet. It was 1:15 AM and I was about to leave my spot to go to Lamayns to pick him up and hit the club.
As I walked out of front of my apartment building, there was “Julie” at the call box.
“Who are you here to see?” I asked, befuddled.
“Don’t do this to me,” she said.
“Don’t do what? You’re clearly not here to see me.”
“Please don’t do this, not again. You know I’m here to see you.”
“Are you serious right now? I didn’t invite you here. Don’t do what to you?”
“You told me to come over.”
“No, I didn’t. I’m clearly leaving. It’s 1:20 in the morning. I’m going downtown. I was supposed to meet up with Lamayn 5 minutes ago,” I informed her.
She started getting teary eyed and I felt a little bad.
“Where, when, how did I tell you to meet me here right now?” I asked her.
“We spoke on MSN,” she answered.
“Well, I don’t have MSN. People in the US use AIM. MSN is for Frenchy’s. Everyone knows that I don’t have MSN. If thats true, what’s my screen name?”
“It’s Boom Tho,” she mumbled.
“I mean, that appears to be a good guess, but I don’t have MSN so someone is playing a joke on you or you’re lying.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said. “I think you’re lying to me.”
“YOU don’t believe ME?” I nearly yelled out. “O.K. I’ll prove it to you.”
It was nearing 1:30 now, but I didn’t care. I ran upstairs and grabbed my laptop. I brought it back down and proceeded to scroll through all my apps. MSN was nowhere to be found. I then took the laptop back upstairs and came back down. She was teary eyed again.
Maybe she thought I was going to invite her up or something but that was the furthest thought from my mind. I was late for party time with Lamayn.
“So there you have it. Sorry to tell you, but either you’re being pranked, or you’re lying to me. Either way, I have to go.”
I got in my car and left and had a great time that night. I ended our Facebook friendship (first time I’ve ever ended a FB friendship) and I haven’t heard from her since.
The End.
Bill Adler Photoshoot
November/02/2008 04:26 PM Filed in: Random
Before I left the U.S., I travelled up to Eugene, Oregon to help my buddy Sam out. He works for Bill Adler Leather, and they make high fashion belts that are sold in trendy boutiques all over.
Anyway, his Idea was to have belts be used in interesting/funny/fantastic ways. There’s not much of a story here, but i think the photo’s are funny. The first few are the ones that were actually used, after that are the ones I just think are awesome. You may recognize many of them from Boom Got Them 3.










Boom Got Them DOS!
Anyway, his Idea was to have belts be used in interesting/funny/fantastic ways. There’s not much of a story here, but i think the photo’s are funny. The first few are the ones that were actually used, after that are the ones I just think are awesome. You may recognize many of them from Boom Got Them 3.










Boom Got Them DOS!
Avi is Nuts (another example of a crazy Euro)
November/02/2008 04:12 PM Filed in: Random
If you don’t know who Avi is, then you should go back and read “Naggin in Iceland.” Its a great little tale about his first year in Iceland. Anyway, now this is a short little iChat he sent me:
Avi: some guy that lives abouve came down to tell me they were doin construction but he spole little english so he tryin to tell and im thinking what the f*ck is this dude saying
Avi: anywyas we finally figure each other out after about an hour and he tries to make small talk and asks me where im from
Avi:and before i could say the usa he shouts out AFRICA
Avi: DEAD SERIOUS TOO
Me: hahahaha
Avi: I WAS STANDING THERE LIKE IS AVI FOGEL GONNA HAVE TO SMACK A BIOTCH
Avi: couldnt belive it man
Me:
HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA
HAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA
Avi: hahahaha i know man
Avi doen’t feel comfortable in his apartment anymore I guess. I wouldn’t either. It’s OK dawg, I got your back.
Avi: some guy that lives abouve came down to tell me they were doin construction but he spole little english so he tryin to tell and im thinking what the f*ck is this dude saying
Avi: anywyas we finally figure each other out after about an hour and he tries to make small talk and asks me where im from
Avi:and before i could say the usa he shouts out AFRICA
Avi: DEAD SERIOUS TOO
Me: hahahaha
Avi: I WAS STANDING THERE LIKE IS AVI FOGEL GONNA HAVE TO SMACK A BIOTCH
Avi: couldnt belive it man
Me:
HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA
HAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA
Avi: hahahaha i know man
Avi doen’t feel comfortable in his apartment anymore I guess. I wouldn’t either. It’s OK dawg, I got your back.
Funny MySpace Messages 10
October/15/2008 05:34 AM Filed in: MySpace Messages
{Go back and check out installments 1-9 if you haven’t already}
It’s been quite a while since the last “Funny MySpace Messages” dropped, but that’s ok. I think you’ll find the same craziness here that you’re accustomed to finding in my MySpace inbox. In addition to my messages, I’ve got a couple of Clay’s and a even one of Prelle’s. Let’s do it.
I’ll start if off with a girl who was featured in the last installment. She, like so many others, just would NOT STOP with the messages. I just don’t understand why a person would keep sending messages over months and months. Well, “Irene a.k.a. ‘sex big mommy’” and I don’t see eye to eye on this because, in addition to the messages she sent me before, she sent me these as well:
No Subject
Body:
hello sup with you??
Then, 2 months later:
Subject:
No Subject
Body:
hello . . .
How many times can you say hello before someone wants to gag your face (see “Forgetting Sarah Marshall”)? The lack of interest on my part is clear. There is no answer, therefore there should be no more questions. It aint hard to see why:


Her makeup container is empty for a reason... it’s all on her FACE.
Anyway, the sexy big mommy was a little too much big mommy for me, but I do commend her for using an appropriate display name. One that described her as well as she believed it could. The next girl had a display name that I had to laugh at.
Meet “WARNING- U COULD FALL INLOVE”:

Hahaha no way did I read that name, then see this picture, then laugh so hard that tears came rolling down my face. I guess the laughter wasn’t all about the picture above,
or this picture,

or this picture.

It was a combination of all of that and the message I got:
Jun 24 2008 2:10 PM
whuts gd sweety....stoppin throu showin sum sexy luv wit chocolate over it....hope u return it
I had never been offered “sexy luv wit chocolate over it” before, but ,upon receiving my first taste, I realized that I COULD fall in love...
PSYCH!
Then there was “Nay Nay.”
“Nay Nay” sent me this:
Subject: Yo daddy
Body:
Can I be in your tops
The queen bitch
This is “Nay Nay”:


I’m just going to ask a series of questions and you can do your best to answer, because I have no clue.
1. Is she the queen of the Bitches?
2. What is she wearing, a sheet?
3. Does she have on matching socks?
4. Is she even a she?
5. What are these poses all about?
6. Seriously, these poses are kind of scary, right?
7. Who took these pictures?
8. Did the person who took the pictures approve of such poses?
9. A random cable cord??
10. What is this room? I’d guess laundry, but its too skinny. Seriously, the cable cord throws me way off.
11. Mop?
Thanks for your help.
I’ll take this time to showcase some of Clay’s strange MySpace stalkers. These people must not know that Clay is not a contender to win the “Dance Off,” because they love him... Especially the males. Like DL DUDE:

He sent some simple message that I can no longer find, but it was definitely of the “hollar” variety. Then I found this on his “About Me”:
Wuz good myspace...um im really 17, I'M A BOTTOM..n im reall bullsh*t intolerant...i dont f*cc wit fakez...cuz im not...iText™...get at me for the number..my real page..or anything else
Clay gets hit on by underage men more than any 24 year old straight man on earth not wearing a dress in the Castro. He’s not homophobic, and neither am I, but we just can’t figure it out. Well, I think Clay may have had a heart attack when he saw the message from “LET IT RAIN ON ME”:
From: LET IT RAIN ON ME
Date: Sep 13, 2008 7:49 PM
yo wats gud thankx 4 da add u sexy ass hell ill let u hite it from da back and in any way u wnt it dats how sexy u are

I was drinking water while reading that message for the first time. I clearly had a gag reaction and spit all the water out of my mouth, barely dodging my laptop screen but dousing the food that was on the table next to me. I don’t even think any further commentary is necessary on that one. Just wow. I don’t care if you’re gay, straight, or overweight, that’s a lot to send a stranger over the internet.
The last thing Clay forwarded to me was just a photo that someone posted as a comment of his page that he thought was weird:

I think it’s weird too, Clay. I think it’s weird too.
Back to my messages. I got a male message too, although it had nothing to do with a sexual advance. It was from “Mattney.” He actually felt so compelled to say it that he posted the same comment TWICE.
"you is a fake ass gilbert arenas you dont even play in the nba...."
Oh man here we go again. It’s like how stupid do you have to be, guy? You come to my page, click on my photos, find a D-League photo and comment that on it? You must not have a life.
I looked at his page for a second and realized that he indeed, does not.

For starters, find a new pose, a new hat, and some new wallpaper. “You fake ass thug, you don’t even live in New York.”
This was his “About Me”:
ha namez Matthew or but i go by matt or mattney Im pretty much a chilled person and tymez i can be funny and crazy and i lyke to go to parties i also lyke hanging out with my friendz and im not fully white im mixed wit some things and god comes first in my life then my familia then my friendz cause they are wat keeps me goin everyday... my sports are track,football,and basketball,and im a junior at pearland highschool and i dislike drama so dont bring ur drama to me if u want to know more hit me wit a msg or a cmmt...
Secondly, Mr run-on-sentence, putting a Y instead of an I makes you lame. Claiming that you’re not fully white doesn’t justify the use weird abbreviations and writing on a keyboard like you’re texting you some other lame high schooler.
Lastly, if you dislike drama, don’t go on a grown man’s page, wearing that effing shirt (once again, see “Forgetting Sarah Marshall), during recess, if you REALLY have something better to do. Clearly you don’t. The end. Eat a fruit roll up and STFU.
I’ll leave you all with the first message that Prelle has sent to me. I think it’s TMRB worthy. You have to remember that Prelle was a model on the “Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency” TV show for two seasons. Therefore, he does have quite a few fans. Here is the best fan message in my opinion. It was from “Rasheen”:

HEY
Body:
HEY CHRISTIAN ...
HOW ARE U DOING???
MY NAME IS RASHEEN P****...
IM 15 YEARS OF AGE...
I'm a freshman AT NEW WORLD SCHOOL OF THE ARTS..
IN MIAMI FL.
I MAJOR IN DANCE...
I LOVE YOU AND THE JANICE DICKINSON MODELING SHOW...
I WONT TO BECOME A UNDERWEAR MODEL SOME DAY...
I WOULD LOVE TO BE YOU..
I WOULD DO ANYTHING YOU SAY...
I WOULD LOVE TO MODEL WITH YOU SOME DAY..
WHEN I GET OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL....
SO CAN YOU HELP ME WITH SOME TIPS TO BECOME A UNDERWEAR MODEL????
YOU CAN CALL ME MY NUMBER IS *** *** ****
OR YOU CAN E MAIL *****@BELLSOUTH. NET
Is this for real? Would he really do ANYTHING prelle said? Does he really want to be an underwear model at age 15? Did he really think Prelle would call him? I know he majors in dance, but do they teach English at that school too?
I guess it’s just the way an aspiring underwear model does things.

Until next time... The End.
It’s been quite a while since the last “Funny MySpace Messages” dropped, but that’s ok. I think you’ll find the same craziness here that you’re accustomed to finding in my MySpace inbox. In addition to my messages, I’ve got a couple of Clay’s and a even one of Prelle’s. Let’s do it.
I’ll start if off with a girl who was featured in the last installment. She, like so many others, just would NOT STOP with the messages. I just don’t understand why a person would keep sending messages over months and months. Well, “Irene a.k.a. ‘sex big mommy’” and I don’t see eye to eye on this because, in addition to the messages she sent me before, she sent me these as well:
No Subject
Body:
hello sup with you??
Then, 2 months later:
Subject:
No Subject
Body:
hello . . .
How many times can you say hello before someone wants to gag your face (see “Forgetting Sarah Marshall”)? The lack of interest on my part is clear. There is no answer, therefore there should be no more questions. It aint hard to see why:


Her makeup container is empty for a reason... it’s all on her FACE.
Anyway, the sexy big mommy was a little too much big mommy for me, but I do commend her for using an appropriate display name. One that described her as well as she believed it could. The next girl had a display name that I had to laugh at.
Meet “WARNING- U COULD FALL INLOVE”:

Hahaha no way did I read that name, then see this picture, then laugh so hard that tears came rolling down my face. I guess the laughter wasn’t all about the picture above,
or this picture,

or this picture.

It was a combination of all of that and the message I got:
Jun 24 2008 2:10 PM
whuts gd sweety....stoppin throu showin sum sexy luv wit chocolate over it....hope u return it
I had never been offered “sexy luv wit chocolate over it” before, but ,upon receiving my first taste, I realized that I COULD fall in love...
PSYCH!
Then there was “Nay Nay.”
“Nay Nay” sent me this:
Subject: Yo daddy
Body:
Can I be in your tops
The queen bitch
This is “Nay Nay”:


I’m just going to ask a series of questions and you can do your best to answer, because I have no clue.
1. Is she the queen of the Bitches?
2. What is she wearing, a sheet?
3. Does she have on matching socks?
4. Is she even a she?
5. What are these poses all about?
6. Seriously, these poses are kind of scary, right?
7. Who took these pictures?
8. Did the person who took the pictures approve of such poses?
9. A random cable cord??
10. What is this room? I’d guess laundry, but its too skinny. Seriously, the cable cord throws me way off.
11. Mop?
Thanks for your help.
I’ll take this time to showcase some of Clay’s strange MySpace stalkers. These people must not know that Clay is not a contender to win the “Dance Off,” because they love him... Especially the males. Like DL DUDE:

He sent some simple message that I can no longer find, but it was definitely of the “hollar” variety. Then I found this on his “About Me”:
Wuz good myspace...um im really 17, I'M A BOTTOM..n im reall bullsh*t intolerant...i dont f*cc wit fakez...cuz im not...iText™...get at me for the number..my real page..or anything else
Clay gets hit on by underage men more than any 24 year old straight man on earth not wearing a dress in the Castro. He’s not homophobic, and neither am I, but we just can’t figure it out. Well, I think Clay may have had a heart attack when he saw the message from “LET IT RAIN ON ME”:
From: LET IT RAIN ON ME
Date: Sep 13, 2008 7:49 PM
yo wats gud thankx 4 da add u sexy ass hell ill let u hite it from da back and in any way u wnt it dats how sexy u are

I was drinking water while reading that message for the first time. I clearly had a gag reaction and spit all the water out of my mouth, barely dodging my laptop screen but dousing the food that was on the table next to me. I don’t even think any further commentary is necessary on that one. Just wow. I don’t care if you’re gay, straight, or overweight, that’s a lot to send a stranger over the internet.
The last thing Clay forwarded to me was just a photo that someone posted as a comment of his page that he thought was weird:

I think it’s weird too, Clay. I think it’s weird too.
Back to my messages. I got a male message too, although it had nothing to do with a sexual advance. It was from “Mattney.” He actually felt so compelled to say it that he posted the same comment TWICE.
"you is a fake ass gilbert arenas you dont even play in the nba...."
Oh man here we go again. It’s like how stupid do you have to be, guy? You come to my page, click on my photos, find a D-League photo and comment that on it? You must not have a life.
I looked at his page for a second and realized that he indeed, does not.

For starters, find a new pose, a new hat, and some new wallpaper. “You fake ass thug, you don’t even live in New York.”
This was his “About Me”:
ha namez Matthew or but i go by matt or mattney Im pretty much a chilled person and tymez i can be funny and crazy and i lyke to go to parties i also lyke hanging out with my friendz and im not fully white im mixed wit some things and god comes first in my life then my familia then my friendz cause they are wat keeps me goin everyday... my sports are track,football,and basketball,and im a junior at pearland highschool and i dislike drama so dont bring ur drama to me if u want to know more hit me wit a msg or a cmmt...
Secondly, Mr run-on-sentence, putting a Y instead of an I makes you lame. Claiming that you’re not fully white doesn’t justify the use weird abbreviations and writing on a keyboard like you’re texting you some other lame high schooler.
Lastly, if you dislike drama, don’t go on a grown man’s page, wearing that effing shirt (once again, see “Forgetting Sarah Marshall), during recess, if you REALLY have something better to do. Clearly you don’t. The end. Eat a fruit roll up and STFU.
I’ll leave you all with the first message that Prelle has sent to me. I think it’s TMRB worthy. You have to remember that Prelle was a model on the “Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency” TV show for two seasons. Therefore, he does have quite a few fans. Here is the best fan message in my opinion. It was from “Rasheen”:

HEY
Body:
HEY CHRISTIAN ...
HOW ARE U DOING???
MY NAME IS RASHEEN P****...
IM 15 YEARS OF AGE...
I'm a freshman AT NEW WORLD SCHOOL OF THE ARTS..
IN MIAMI FL.
I MAJOR IN DANCE...
I LOVE YOU AND THE JANICE DICKINSON MODELING SHOW...
I WONT TO BECOME A UNDERWEAR MODEL SOME DAY...
I WOULD LOVE TO BE YOU..
I WOULD DO ANYTHING YOU SAY...
I WOULD LOVE TO MODEL WITH YOU SOME DAY..
WHEN I GET OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL....
SO CAN YOU HELP ME WITH SOME TIPS TO BECOME A UNDERWEAR MODEL????
YOU CAN CALL ME MY NUMBER IS *** *** ****
OR YOU CAN E MAIL *****@BELLSOUTH. NET
Is this for real? Would he really do ANYTHING prelle said? Does he really want to be an underwear model at age 15? Did he really think Prelle would call him? I know he majors in dance, but do they teach English at that school too?
I guess it’s just the way an aspiring underwear model does things.

Until next time... The End.
The Dance Off: JGant's Turn
October/15/2008 05:27 AM Filed in: Dance Off
If you haven’t checked out the first two installments of “The Dance Off,” it’s about time you did. I already know what you’re gonna say about JGant’s part though. It SUCKS. HE SUCKS. He is NOT the frontrunner by any means. With this performance, JGant has clearly left the door open for me to come in and dominate everyone.
JGants Dance Off vid from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
JGants Dance Off vid from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Peer Pressure Drinking in France
September/12/2008 02:03 PM Filed in: France!
I left my crib and headed downtown (it’s like 4 minutes from my spot). There’s one restaurant that serves Italian food that I had already been to before with my teammates. The main server speaks good english, so she understands that I like my steak medium-well and not the usual purple-red bloody meat that is served out here. The owner is also a real nice guy who hands me the remote to the flat screen so I can change the channel. It’s a good thing.
After I left there, I went to a bar to meet my teammate. He never showed up. I ended up sitting there drinking some drink that consists of Stella, Cannes (which I think is sugar), and Absinthe. I had about five of those bad boys while waiting for my teammate to show up.
Finally, I got tired of waiting and I left. On my way back to the house, I walked past a bar that the owner of the Italian restaurant happened to be seated out of of. He was with a big group of people. He called me over and asked that I partake in some drinks with them. Who was I to say no?
I sat down with the big group. I guess it was the birthday of one of his friends. The owner must be like 50 years old, and the birthday boy was 25 on that day. The whole group was already pretty drunk. He ordered three whiskey and cokes. There was one for me, one for him, and one for the birthday boy.
He handed one to the birthday boy and told him to finish it immediately. I figured the kid would just sip it kinda fast, but it was a big drink and I doubt his ability to finish it so quickly. The older guy told the birthday boy to give him his hand. I was looking confused. The other people at the table seemed to already know what was about to transpire.
The friendly restaurant owner grabbed the birthday boys hand, and pulled out his index finger. He then put the birthday boys finger in his mouth and bit it. He bit that bad boy HARD. The birthday bay threw his drink back in a heartbeat. Mann it made my head spin it was so fast. As soon as the drink was finished, old guy released birthday boys finger. He then took his own drink and gave his hand to the birthday boy. Birthday boy bit the finger of 50+ year old man.
There was only one drink left on the table. Clearly it belonged to me and everyone looked at me like I had been informed of the rules, now it was time to play the game. I started shaking my head as I saw the teeth marks on the birthday boys finger. I told them I didn’t need my finger bitten to kill my drink. I kill drinks like lions kill gazelles.
The sweet old restaurant owner was suddenly not so sweet or old. He reached for my hand and I tucked it away. Suddenly, there were four people fighting for my hand -- a fight I could not win. Teeth plunged into my index finger and I knew that my only way out was to drink the drink. I took that bad boy like I was Frank The Tank. As soon as the glass was empty, my hand was once again mine.
The birthday boy ordered another round. I knew it would be a long night.
By 2am I was biting fingers like they were covered in McDonalds sweet and sour sauce. It ended up being kinda fun. I guess that could be the new way to get your boys to finish their drinks. Just bite their index fingers and see what happens. Tell em that a 50 year old restauranteur started it and that it’s your job to keep it going. That’s what I’ll be doing anyway.
After I left there, I went to a bar to meet my teammate. He never showed up. I ended up sitting there drinking some drink that consists of Stella, Cannes (which I think is sugar), and Absinthe. I had about five of those bad boys while waiting for my teammate to show up.
Finally, I got tired of waiting and I left. On my way back to the house, I walked past a bar that the owner of the Italian restaurant happened to be seated out of of. He was with a big group of people. He called me over and asked that I partake in some drinks with them. Who was I to say no?
I sat down with the big group. I guess it was the birthday of one of his friends. The owner must be like 50 years old, and the birthday boy was 25 on that day. The whole group was already pretty drunk. He ordered three whiskey and cokes. There was one for me, one for him, and one for the birthday boy.
He handed one to the birthday boy and told him to finish it immediately. I figured the kid would just sip it kinda fast, but it was a big drink and I doubt his ability to finish it so quickly. The older guy told the birthday boy to give him his hand. I was looking confused. The other people at the table seemed to already know what was about to transpire.
The friendly restaurant owner grabbed the birthday boys hand, and pulled out his index finger. He then put the birthday boys finger in his mouth and bit it. He bit that bad boy HARD. The birthday bay threw his drink back in a heartbeat. Mann it made my head spin it was so fast. As soon as the drink was finished, old guy released birthday boys finger. He then took his own drink and gave his hand to the birthday boy. Birthday boy bit the finger of 50+ year old man.
There was only one drink left on the table. Clearly it belonged to me and everyone looked at me like I had been informed of the rules, now it was time to play the game. I started shaking my head as I saw the teeth marks on the birthday boys finger. I told them I didn’t need my finger bitten to kill my drink. I kill drinks like lions kill gazelles.
The sweet old restaurant owner was suddenly not so sweet or old. He reached for my hand and I tucked it away. Suddenly, there were four people fighting for my hand -- a fight I could not win. Teeth plunged into my index finger and I knew that my only way out was to drink the drink. I took that bad boy like I was Frank The Tank. As soon as the glass was empty, my hand was once again mine.
The birthday boy ordered another round. I knew it would be a long night.
By 2am I was biting fingers like they were covered in McDonalds sweet and sour sauce. It ended up being kinda fun. I guess that could be the new way to get your boys to finish their drinks. Just bite their index fingers and see what happens. Tell em that a 50 year old restauranteur started it and that it’s your job to keep it going. That’s what I’ll be doing anyway.
One Last Vegas Story (The Best One)
September/12/2008 02:45 AM Filed in: Random
It was just one of those mornings. I knew that the night before had been spectacular because I woke up in my own bedroom and, for a split second, thought it wasn’t. It was a relief to know that I made it back to my hotel room and that my boys were there too. Well, actually, one of my boys, Elram, was there, the other, JGant, was nowhere to be found.
It was time for me and Elram to recount what happened the night before. I knew the story to a point. We all showed up at JET Nightclub hoping to get in, even though Elram didn’t have an I.D. I knew it’d be a tall order, but he wanted to go to the hottest club that night and not settle for the Palms.
Clearly they wanted no parts of him and his lack of identification, so we had to bounce. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to head back to the Palms, so that if he was denied again, I could just go right to bed. Elram and JGant had other plans. They wanted to stay and wait for this girl to pick them up so they could try to go to the HARD ROCK and sneak in. After a short argument, it was decided that I had to get back to Palms. They stayed and waited for the girl. That is when our nights went down different paths.
My night was simple. I went to Rain and consumed a lot of alcohol. I fell asleep in my bed. I was awakened by Elram at 6am. He came up to the bed and tapped me to wake me up. I looked at him and told him to go to bed. He said: “wait wait wait. Gabe Pruitt is such a nice dude.”
Confused, I told him to go to bed. That was where my night ended.
I was waiting for Elram to explain to me where the hell JGant was, when his phone rang. JGant was calling. Elram picked up and started talking, then he started laughing. I grabbed the phone from him.
“JGant man where are you?”
“I don’t know,” he answered me.
“Well, why don’t you look at a street sign or something.”
“I don’t see any street signs.”
“Jason, seriously go walk outside of wherever you are and look at a coddamn street sign!”
“Bro, I’m trynna tell you that there are no street signs. It looks like Afghanistan. All I see is dirt.”
I started laughing. I told him to get a cab or tell whatever girl he was with to get him home. There was nothing Elram and I could do. JGant ended up getting a ride and meeting us at the hotel McDonalds. It was time for them to tell me what exactly happened the night before.
JGant explained that they waited for that girl to pick them up while they drank at the lobby bar of the Mirage. The girl came to pick them up a while later and took them to the Hard Rock. From what I was told, she had a bottle of liquor in the car that she offered to JGant. He claims that there had to be roofies in the bottle because he requested to go back to the Palms a few minutes after arriving at the Hard Rock. He passed out in the car on the way and woke up in “Afghanistan,” in her bed. That’s where JGant’s story ends.
Elram arrived at the Hard Rock with one goal in mind: he wanted to sneak into Body English. He was hanging around the lobby, drinking, when a woman began to give him the eyes. He started talking to her, and, before he knew it, he was on the way up to her hotel room.
When he arrived at the hotel room, she put her key in and opened the door. As he began to walk in, he noticed someone down the hall walking in their direction. He didnt pay any mind. He let the door close behind him when he entered the room. Right before it closed, though, a hand pushed it back open and a guy walked into the room as well.
Elram whispered to the woman.
“Who the hell is this?”
She answered him at regular volume.
“Oh, that’s my husband. He likes to watch. Don’t mind him.”
Elram looked over at the guy, who was now seated in one of the chairs, legs crossed, watching SportsCenter. The woman started kissing Elram on his neck and attempting to unbuckle his pants. Elram was feeling uneasy because the guy was just staring right at him. Elram described the watchful husband as “all swole with hella tattoos.”
It became too much for Elram to handle. He got up and took off. He went back downstairs, had some more drinks and somehow, walked into Body English. When I say walked in, I mean that he didn’t sneak in. He just waltzed right in through the regular entrance.
After he was tired of dancing by himself, he decided it was time to head home. He went out front and hailed a cab. The cab driver suggested that Elram go to a strip club before heading home (we later found out that cab drivers in Vegas get paid by strip clubs for referrals). Elram, too drunk to use his better judgement, decided to go to take the taxi drivers advice and head to the strip club.
When he got to the club, he walked in and realized that he didn’t have any I.D., so they sent him right back out. He walked back to the cab. The cab driver suggested ANOTHER strip club. Elram went. Elram went into and was denied from 5 strip clubs, not realizing that his lack of I.D. would keep him from being able to enter.
Finally the cab driver told Elram that he knew of a place better than any strip club. Elram ended up at some place called “The Redroom.” He walked in and there was one beautiful woman sitting there behind a desk. Behind the desk was a long hallway.
“What is this place?” He asked curiously.
“Here at the Redroom we offer full relaxation,” the woman answered.
“I’m sorry, but what exactly does that mean?”
“It means that we offer full relaxation.”
Elram, wanting to explore further, rephrased his question.
“Different people have different opinions on what fully relaxed is. Can you be more specific?”
“Specifically, when you leave here you’ll be fully relaxed,” she answered once again.
Elram left. He got back into the cab and FINALLY got back to the Palms. He paid his cab the $70 fare for driving him all over the city and walked back into the hotel. He walked over to McDonalds and, while waiting in line, struck up a conversation with Gabe Pruitt (Celtics guard). After all of that, he walked back to the room, woke me up, and told me how nice Gabe Pruitt was.
It was time for me and Elram to recount what happened the night before. I knew the story to a point. We all showed up at JET Nightclub hoping to get in, even though Elram didn’t have an I.D. I knew it’d be a tall order, but he wanted to go to the hottest club that night and not settle for the Palms.
Clearly they wanted no parts of him and his lack of identification, so we had to bounce. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to head back to the Palms, so that if he was denied again, I could just go right to bed. Elram and JGant had other plans. They wanted to stay and wait for this girl to pick them up so they could try to go to the HARD ROCK and sneak in. After a short argument, it was decided that I had to get back to Palms. They stayed and waited for the girl. That is when our nights went down different paths.
My night was simple. I went to Rain and consumed a lot of alcohol. I fell asleep in my bed. I was awakened by Elram at 6am. He came up to the bed and tapped me to wake me up. I looked at him and told him to go to bed. He said: “wait wait wait. Gabe Pruitt is such a nice dude.”
Confused, I told him to go to bed. That was where my night ended.
I was waiting for Elram to explain to me where the hell JGant was, when his phone rang. JGant was calling. Elram picked up and started talking, then he started laughing. I grabbed the phone from him.
“JGant man where are you?”
“I don’t know,” he answered me.
“Well, why don’t you look at a street sign or something.”
“I don’t see any street signs.”
“Jason, seriously go walk outside of wherever you are and look at a coddamn street sign!”
“Bro, I’m trynna tell you that there are no street signs. It looks like Afghanistan. All I see is dirt.”
I started laughing. I told him to get a cab or tell whatever girl he was with to get him home. There was nothing Elram and I could do. JGant ended up getting a ride and meeting us at the hotel McDonalds. It was time for them to tell me what exactly happened the night before.
JGant explained that they waited for that girl to pick them up while they drank at the lobby bar of the Mirage. The girl came to pick them up a while later and took them to the Hard Rock. From what I was told, she had a bottle of liquor in the car that she offered to JGant. He claims that there had to be roofies in the bottle because he requested to go back to the Palms a few minutes after arriving at the Hard Rock. He passed out in the car on the way and woke up in “Afghanistan,” in her bed. That’s where JGant’s story ends.
Elram arrived at the Hard Rock with one goal in mind: he wanted to sneak into Body English. He was hanging around the lobby, drinking, when a woman began to give him the eyes. He started talking to her, and, before he knew it, he was on the way up to her hotel room.
When he arrived at the hotel room, she put her key in and opened the door. As he began to walk in, he noticed someone down the hall walking in their direction. He didnt pay any mind. He let the door close behind him when he entered the room. Right before it closed, though, a hand pushed it back open and a guy walked into the room as well.
Elram whispered to the woman.
“Who the hell is this?”
She answered him at regular volume.
“Oh, that’s my husband. He likes to watch. Don’t mind him.”
Elram looked over at the guy, who was now seated in one of the chairs, legs crossed, watching SportsCenter. The woman started kissing Elram on his neck and attempting to unbuckle his pants. Elram was feeling uneasy because the guy was just staring right at him. Elram described the watchful husband as “all swole with hella tattoos.”
It became too much for Elram to handle. He got up and took off. He went back downstairs, had some more drinks and somehow, walked into Body English. When I say walked in, I mean that he didn’t sneak in. He just waltzed right in through the regular entrance.
After he was tired of dancing by himself, he decided it was time to head home. He went out front and hailed a cab. The cab driver suggested that Elram go to a strip club before heading home (we later found out that cab drivers in Vegas get paid by strip clubs for referrals). Elram, too drunk to use his better judgement, decided to go to take the taxi drivers advice and head to the strip club.
When he got to the club, he walked in and realized that he didn’t have any I.D., so they sent him right back out. He walked back to the cab. The cab driver suggested ANOTHER strip club. Elram went. Elram went into and was denied from 5 strip clubs, not realizing that his lack of I.D. would keep him from being able to enter.
Finally the cab driver told Elram that he knew of a place better than any strip club. Elram ended up at some place called “The Redroom.” He walked in and there was one beautiful woman sitting there behind a desk. Behind the desk was a long hallway.
“What is this place?” He asked curiously.
“Here at the Redroom we offer full relaxation,” the woman answered.
“I’m sorry, but what exactly does that mean?”
“It means that we offer full relaxation.”
Elram, wanting to explore further, rephrased his question.
“Different people have different opinions on what fully relaxed is. Can you be more specific?”
“Specifically, when you leave here you’ll be fully relaxed,” she answered once again.
Elram left. He got back into the cab and FINALLY got back to the Palms. He paid his cab the $70 fare for driving him all over the city and walked back into the hotel. He walked over to McDonalds and, while waiting in line, struck up a conversation with Gabe Pruitt (Celtics guard). After all of that, he walked back to the room, woke me up, and told me how nice Gabe Pruitt was.
Rubber Ducky Escape!
August/20/2008 09:39 PM Filed in: Random
After our early scrimmage on the Tuesday of Summer League, Joel Bosh (Chris Bosh’s brother), CJ Giles, Elram, and I were looking for something to do for the night since we had a day off the next day. At around 5pm, CJ hit me up and let me know that was going on. He mentioned to me that there was “Rubber Ducky” pool party going on that night and that we should go check out how much a cabana would cost us.
We all went down there to check it out at about 6. There were people all over who were setting up the cabana’s and filling to pool with the signature rubber duckies. We first went over to the pool and grabbed all the rubber duckies we could that were marked “free drink.” We must have left with about 25 free drink duckies, but before we did, our cabana host showed us which cabana would be ours. he set us up with one at the very back of the pool where we would be right next to a bar. Boom. He told us that each bottle would run about $400, but that he could kick us another one under the table for half off. Basically, we would be set. I was excited.
We headed back down to the pool around 9pm and it was already crackin. We went back to our cabana and got the party started. The problem with the situation was that somebody invited these girls into our cabana (nothin wrong with that, usually) who proceeded to destroy our entire $400 bottle and half our ducky supply. Coddamit.
I began to worry about our drink supply when all of a sudden, the guy who had promised us an under-the-table bottle of Grey Goose, showed up with what looked like a water carafe, but was actually filled with the promised Goose. Nobody knew what was in there except us guys who had reserved the cabana. We all enjoyed the disguised alcohol without the outside consumption and had a great time at the party.
The party was designed to really be an early-night party, ending at midnight so that people could shower and head out to the real club for the night, so while I was lolligagging, the rest of the gang paid for the alcohol, asked if I was cool to catch up, and left. Of course I was cool to catch up. They left and I stayed back a few minutes onger.
Right before I was ready to leave, they guy who hooked us up walked over to me and asked if I was planning on paying for the alcohol. I told him that it had already been paid, that I had watched the other guys sign the credit card receipt.
He told me that they had paid for the official bill, but they had failed to give him the cash required for the under-the-table liquor that he cant ring up in the computer. I, being the brokest one of my whole crew, was not about to fork over $200 cash (clearly I didnt even have that much cash on me). I told the guy that I would call everyone else and work it out.
I picked up the Blackberry and called up the guys.
“Yo, put me on speaker,” I told CJ, “Man what the hell? Did you guys leave me here with this bill?”
Their answer seemed to be collective.
“We told you to come on! It was under-the-table, why would we pay for it?”
I panicked and hung up the phone. It now became clear that I had to plan my escape. I looked up and around and could not see the guy anywhere. I decided I would just get up and do my best to be inconspicuous (a tall order for a tall guy). I scope the exit, and slowly started to walk towards it. Each step I took seemed to be so calculated. Was I walking too slow? Too fast? Was I looking like I had something to hide? Did I look too nonchelant?
All these thoughts were swirling through my head even though I had only taken about 5 of the 150 steps it would take to escape. You must understand that the pool was huge and the exit was clear on the opposite side of my cabana.
I took a couple more steps when I realized that the guy was walking 4 steps in front of me, the same pace as me, with his back to me.


I saw him look over his left shoulder. I ducked right. He then looked over his right shoulder. I ducked left. All of this happened as we continued to walk. I just needed time to think and I was starting to believe that that time would not come.
As we finally hooked the left to go to the home stretch, I had an idea. I figured I would enter the restaurant because there was a direct entrance to the restaurant from the pool. The restaurant must have another exit to the lobby of the Palms Place hotel and thus an exit to the parking lot and back to the Palms.

The guy kept it moving right past the path to the restaurant while I took a left, keeping the same pace, heading to what appeared to be the promised land. But, right when I hooked that left, as if he had been in this situation many times before, the guy took off running toward the exit. Right then I realized that he was going to go cut me off at the resturant exit, which must also be in position to see the regular Palms Place exit.
I turned right back around, this time not looking back or worried about pace and walked right back in the direction I had come from.

The guy must’ve still been indoors as I turned the right, nearly tripping over people and duckies on my way all the way back past our cabana. I remembered that there was an emergency exit on the side of the building that I accidentally discovered earlier while searching for the bathroom. I hightailed it over there.

I barrelled through the “alarm will sound” labeled doors and didnt look back. They led out to the street, but in the middle of a ton of bushes. I stayed low, hunching over and wading through the bushes down Flamingo Street, all the way back to the Palms.
When I finally got back I celebrated, met up with the guys and went into Moon. It couldnt have turned out better. Boom.
We all went down there to check it out at about 6. There were people all over who were setting up the cabana’s and filling to pool with the signature rubber duckies. We first went over to the pool and grabbed all the rubber duckies we could that were marked “free drink.” We must have left with about 25 free drink duckies, but before we did, our cabana host showed us which cabana would be ours. he set us up with one at the very back of the pool where we would be right next to a bar. Boom. He told us that each bottle would run about $400, but that he could kick us another one under the table for half off. Basically, we would be set. I was excited.
We headed back down to the pool around 9pm and it was already crackin. We went back to our cabana and got the party started. The problem with the situation was that somebody invited these girls into our cabana (nothin wrong with that, usually) who proceeded to destroy our entire $400 bottle and half our ducky supply. Coddamit.
I began to worry about our drink supply when all of a sudden, the guy who had promised us an under-the-table bottle of Grey Goose, showed up with what looked like a water carafe, but was actually filled with the promised Goose. Nobody knew what was in there except us guys who had reserved the cabana. We all enjoyed the disguised alcohol without the outside consumption and had a great time at the party.
The party was designed to really be an early-night party, ending at midnight so that people could shower and head out to the real club for the night, so while I was lolligagging, the rest of the gang paid for the alcohol, asked if I was cool to catch up, and left. Of course I was cool to catch up. They left and I stayed back a few minutes onger.
Right before I was ready to leave, they guy who hooked us up walked over to me and asked if I was planning on paying for the alcohol. I told him that it had already been paid, that I had watched the other guys sign the credit card receipt.
He told me that they had paid for the official bill, but they had failed to give him the cash required for the under-the-table liquor that he cant ring up in the computer. I, being the brokest one of my whole crew, was not about to fork over $200 cash (clearly I didnt even have that much cash on me). I told the guy that I would call everyone else and work it out.
I picked up the Blackberry and called up the guys.
“Yo, put me on speaker,” I told CJ, “Man what the hell? Did you guys leave me here with this bill?”
Their answer seemed to be collective.
“We told you to come on! It was under-the-table, why would we pay for it?”
I panicked and hung up the phone. It now became clear that I had to plan my escape. I looked up and around and could not see the guy anywhere. I decided I would just get up and do my best to be inconspicuous (a tall order for a tall guy). I scope the exit, and slowly started to walk towards it. Each step I took seemed to be so calculated. Was I walking too slow? Too fast? Was I looking like I had something to hide? Did I look too nonchelant?
All these thoughts were swirling through my head even though I had only taken about 5 of the 150 steps it would take to escape. You must understand that the pool was huge and the exit was clear on the opposite side of my cabana.
I took a couple more steps when I realized that the guy was walking 4 steps in front of me, the same pace as me, with his back to me.


I saw him look over his left shoulder. I ducked right. He then looked over his right shoulder. I ducked left. All of this happened as we continued to walk. I just needed time to think and I was starting to believe that that time would not come.
As we finally hooked the left to go to the home stretch, I had an idea. I figured I would enter the restaurant because there was a direct entrance to the restaurant from the pool. The restaurant must have another exit to the lobby of the Palms Place hotel and thus an exit to the parking lot and back to the Palms.

The guy kept it moving right past the path to the restaurant while I took a left, keeping the same pace, heading to what appeared to be the promised land. But, right when I hooked that left, as if he had been in this situation many times before, the guy took off running toward the exit. Right then I realized that he was going to go cut me off at the resturant exit, which must also be in position to see the regular Palms Place exit.
I turned right back around, this time not looking back or worried about pace and walked right back in the direction I had come from.

The guy must’ve still been indoors as I turned the right, nearly tripping over people and duckies on my way all the way back past our cabana. I remembered that there was an emergency exit on the side of the building that I accidentally discovered earlier while searching for the bathroom. I hightailed it over there.

I barrelled through the “alarm will sound” labeled doors and didnt look back. They led out to the street, but in the middle of a ton of bushes. I stayed low, hunching over and wading through the bushes down Flamingo Street, all the way back to the Palms.
When I finally got back I celebrated, met up with the guys and went into Moon. It couldnt have turned out better. Boom.
How to Sneak Into Ghostbar (And Get Your Legs Broke!)
August/19/2008 08:01 PM Filed in: Random
A month ago I wrote a story about how simple and easy it is to sneak into Body English nightclub in Las Vegas. Well, as it turns out, there is another Vegas hotspot that is nearly as easy to sneak into called “Ghostbar” at the Palms.
So while I was in Vegas for the summer league, it became apparent that Ghostbar was the best place to go because I was staying in the Palms and it was located on the top floor of the same tower that I was staying in. Essentially, I could head up there at 9 and be in bed by 11 if I felt like it. It was the perfect spot.
During my two weeks in Vegas one of my fellow Boom Tho Originator’s, Elram, came out to stay with me for a number of days. It was all good except for the fact that Elram isn’t 21 and his fake I.D. was confiscated the first day he got to Vegas. This presented many problems. He had asipirations of partying at all the big clubs, but since I wanted to be in bed early and he didnt have an I.D., we tried to get him into Ghostbar.
JGant was also visiting and I informed them both that I had been let into Ghostbar for free and without being carded before. I felt that it would be easy for them to just get right in. They agreed and Ghostbar became our destination for the night.
When we walked up to the Bouncer, he told the cashier that we should be able to get in free. Excellent. Almost there. Right before we were let in a second bouncer started checking ID’s. I showed mine and kept it moving, JGant also showed his ID and got in. The cashier drew up the reciept with the number 2 on it, signifying that there were two of us who were to be let it. She handed it to me and told me to hand it to the guy at the door. I knew that Elram would get turned back and that JGant would stay back with him.
It was then that I realized how easy it would be to sneak in. See (pay attention here if you ever want to sneak right in), Ghostbar, as I said before, is located on the top floor of the tower with the hotel rooms, but the bouncers who check ID and hand out the receipts, are all downstairs on the lobby level. After the woman hands you the receipt, you walk back to the elevators and press the 55th floor button marked “Ghostbar.” When you get to the top, there is a bouncer waiting there to check your receipt and see how many people are supposed to be with you, because anybodywith a suite has to board that elevator to reach their room.
So, I called JGant and Elram and told them to get on the Elevator with me anyway. The three of us got on with a reciept marked for two. There were other people on the elevator who were also heading to ghostbar, so I kind of had to unveil my plan in front of them, no matter. I explained that JGant and Elram should use the receipt marked “2” and that I would get off on the 52nd floor and go back down. Since they don’t card at the top, Elram should be good. They agreed and went up. I sat on the 52nd floor for a minute before recieving a text from JGant saying that it worked and they were in. I then went back to the lobby and to the bouncer, explaining that I had to go back to my room real quick. The cashier gave me a new reciept with the number 1 on it and I used it to get in. Boom. Just that simple.

Me, Elram, and JGant in Ghostbar.
Now, we did this trick for a few days in a row with perfect execition. On day 3, on our way into the elevator to head up to Ghostbar, one of the gaurds asked Elram what floor he was going to (since the knew he didnt have a receipt. Elram answered confidently “54.” As the door of the elevator closed, you could see the guard reaching for his radio.
When the doors were closed, I yelled out loud in front of the other 12 people in the elevator, “You idiot! Tell me what floors are up here!”
Elram looked at the floor buttons. There was 51, 52, 53, and 55. For some odd reason this hotel doesnt’t have a 54. Dammit, I thought, that was a crucial mistake.
An hour and a half later, we were in Ghostbar just chillin. We were kind of off too the side while Elram was talking to some nice young ladies. Elrams mistake hadn’t proven coastly. We were having a great time. We walked back into the main bar area and Elram handed his drink to Joel Bosh, who was also with us, and said “make sure you drink this. We can’t let it go to waste bro.”
I asked Elram why he just gave up his drink. He responded with “they figured me out. They know I’m not 21.”
I told Elram he was being paranoid. There was no way they could figure that out, and if they somehow had, I could see every bouncer there (power of height), and none of them were looking at Elram and I. I turned around to tell Joel to give Elram back his drink and tell him he was trippin. When I turned back around, four bouncers had grabbed Elram and had already almost whisked him away. I saw Elram look back at me with fear in his eyes as they walked him out of my view.
Joel, respecting what seemed to be Elrams last words, began to drink the drink. I stood there with a confused look on my face. I tried to call Elram four times. There were no answers on the first three calls. On call four he picked up, but I couldn’t make out his words. It was like a bad Verizon commerical. I started to get worried. All I heard him say was “I’m in the kitchen surrounded by 7 big ass dudes.”
Now everyone was in a bit of a panic. We’ve all seen the movies and in those movies this situation always ends with someone gettin their legs broke. I couldn’t afford to have broke legs on my conscience. Another friend of mine tried to break into the kitchen to see if Elram was in there. She pretended to just be too drunk to know where the bathroom was, but when she was in there, she couldnt see him anywhere.
We all left Ghostbar with many questions and no answers. We started back up to my hotel room. When we got off the elevator on my floor, there was Elram standing with one security guard. Elram didnt look hurt. Elram noticed us and yelled out “There they are! I told you!” The guard let Elram come with us. I told the guard that I thought Elrams legs were bout to come back broke. The guard responded “we don’t do that stuff anymore.”
We settled down in the room and I asked Elram what happened. He said that he saw the guards eyeing him while he was still in the Ghostbar and he noticed them talking into radios. When one of them apporached him, he handed off his drink and told me they had him. Sooner after that, he was surrounded in the kitched. They kept asking him what his name was and how he got in without an I.D. Elram, being resourceful, took his wallet out of his back pocket and tucked it under his armpit, so that they couldn’t get his info from his real ID. The questions continued. Elram never backed down, and never told them anything. Instead of breaking his legs, they let him go. That was it.
Elram’s Ghostbar run came to an end that day, luckily, it was also his last day out there so it didn’t really matter. Moral of the story, you can sneak into Ghostbar, just know that THE 54TH FLOOR DOES NOT EXIST!
So while I was in Vegas for the summer league, it became apparent that Ghostbar was the best place to go because I was staying in the Palms and it was located on the top floor of the same tower that I was staying in. Essentially, I could head up there at 9 and be in bed by 11 if I felt like it. It was the perfect spot.
During my two weeks in Vegas one of my fellow Boom Tho Originator’s, Elram, came out to stay with me for a number of days. It was all good except for the fact that Elram isn’t 21 and his fake I.D. was confiscated the first day he got to Vegas. This presented many problems. He had asipirations of partying at all the big clubs, but since I wanted to be in bed early and he didnt have an I.D., we tried to get him into Ghostbar.
JGant was also visiting and I informed them both that I had been let into Ghostbar for free and without being carded before. I felt that it would be easy for them to just get right in. They agreed and Ghostbar became our destination for the night.
When we walked up to the Bouncer, he told the cashier that we should be able to get in free. Excellent. Almost there. Right before we were let in a second bouncer started checking ID’s. I showed mine and kept it moving, JGant also showed his ID and got in. The cashier drew up the reciept with the number 2 on it, signifying that there were two of us who were to be let it. She handed it to me and told me to hand it to the guy at the door. I knew that Elram would get turned back and that JGant would stay back with him.
It was then that I realized how easy it would be to sneak in. See (pay attention here if you ever want to sneak right in), Ghostbar, as I said before, is located on the top floor of the tower with the hotel rooms, but the bouncers who check ID and hand out the receipts, are all downstairs on the lobby level. After the woman hands you the receipt, you walk back to the elevators and press the 55th floor button marked “Ghostbar.” When you get to the top, there is a bouncer waiting there to check your receipt and see how many people are supposed to be with you, because anybodywith a suite has to board that elevator to reach their room.
So, I called JGant and Elram and told them to get on the Elevator with me anyway. The three of us got on with a reciept marked for two. There were other people on the elevator who were also heading to ghostbar, so I kind of had to unveil my plan in front of them, no matter. I explained that JGant and Elram should use the receipt marked “2” and that I would get off on the 52nd floor and go back down. Since they don’t card at the top, Elram should be good. They agreed and went up. I sat on the 52nd floor for a minute before recieving a text from JGant saying that it worked and they were in. I then went back to the lobby and to the bouncer, explaining that I had to go back to my room real quick. The cashier gave me a new reciept with the number 1 on it and I used it to get in. Boom. Just that simple.

Me, Elram, and JGant in Ghostbar.
Now, we did this trick for a few days in a row with perfect execition. On day 3, on our way into the elevator to head up to Ghostbar, one of the gaurds asked Elram what floor he was going to (since the knew he didnt have a receipt. Elram answered confidently “54.” As the door of the elevator closed, you could see the guard reaching for his radio.
When the doors were closed, I yelled out loud in front of the other 12 people in the elevator, “You idiot! Tell me what floors are up here!”
Elram looked at the floor buttons. There was 51, 52, 53, and 55. For some odd reason this hotel doesnt’t have a 54. Dammit, I thought, that was a crucial mistake.
An hour and a half later, we were in Ghostbar just chillin. We were kind of off too the side while Elram was talking to some nice young ladies. Elrams mistake hadn’t proven coastly. We were having a great time. We walked back into the main bar area and Elram handed his drink to Joel Bosh, who was also with us, and said “make sure you drink this. We can’t let it go to waste bro.”
I asked Elram why he just gave up his drink. He responded with “they figured me out. They know I’m not 21.”
I told Elram he was being paranoid. There was no way they could figure that out, and if they somehow had, I could see every bouncer there (power of height), and none of them were looking at Elram and I. I turned around to tell Joel to give Elram back his drink and tell him he was trippin. When I turned back around, four bouncers had grabbed Elram and had already almost whisked him away. I saw Elram look back at me with fear in his eyes as they walked him out of my view.
Joel, respecting what seemed to be Elrams last words, began to drink the drink. I stood there with a confused look on my face. I tried to call Elram four times. There were no answers on the first three calls. On call four he picked up, but I couldn’t make out his words. It was like a bad Verizon commerical. I started to get worried. All I heard him say was “I’m in the kitchen surrounded by 7 big ass dudes.”
Now everyone was in a bit of a panic. We’ve all seen the movies and in those movies this situation always ends with someone gettin their legs broke. I couldn’t afford to have broke legs on my conscience. Another friend of mine tried to break into the kitchen to see if Elram was in there. She pretended to just be too drunk to know where the bathroom was, but when she was in there, she couldnt see him anywhere.
We all left Ghostbar with many questions and no answers. We started back up to my hotel room. When we got off the elevator on my floor, there was Elram standing with one security guard. Elram didnt look hurt. Elram noticed us and yelled out “There they are! I told you!” The guard let Elram come with us. I told the guard that I thought Elrams legs were bout to come back broke. The guard responded “we don’t do that stuff anymore.”
We settled down in the room and I asked Elram what happened. He said that he saw the guards eyeing him while he was still in the Ghostbar and he noticed them talking into radios. When one of them apporached him, he handed off his drink and told me they had him. Sooner after that, he was surrounded in the kitched. They kept asking him what his name was and how he got in without an I.D. Elram, being resourceful, took his wallet out of his back pocket and tucked it under his armpit, so that they couldn’t get his info from his real ID. The questions continued. Elram never backed down, and never told them anything. Instead of breaking his legs, they let him go. That was it.
Elram’s Ghostbar run came to an end that day, luckily, it was also his last day out there so it didn’t really matter. Moral of the story, you can sneak into Ghostbar, just know that THE 54TH FLOOR DOES NOT EXIST!
Aubrey Sings Maxwell
August/19/2008 07:54 PM Filed in: Random
Aubrey gives us another look at his talents, this time in vocal form to the tune of Maxwell.
Aubrey Sings Maxwell from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Aubrey Sings Maxwell from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
The Dance Off: Aubreys Turn
August/03/2008 07:28 PM Filed in: Dance Off
First of all, if you haven’t seen “The Dance Off,” go back and check it out first.
Now, there has been a bit of tension around these parts lately. See, Clay has been a little touched (if you couldnt tell by his comments on his “dance off” vid) about the response to his video. But hey, he knew the rules of the game when he entered it.
Part of Clay’s “Dance Off” related sulking has included his refusal to watch the video that you are about to watch. He has yet to see Aubrey’s video. I’ve seen it. It’s great. You have to pay attention to this one a little more. The entire first minute is Aubrey trying to get ready and in my opinion, it’s the funniest thing ever. Anyway, I’ll let you be the judge. Here it is:
Aubrey Enters the Dance Off from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Rememeber, I’ll have a vote at the end of 4 weeks to determine who is the best.
Now, there has been a bit of tension around these parts lately. See, Clay has been a little touched (if you couldnt tell by his comments on his “dance off” vid) about the response to his video. But hey, he knew the rules of the game when he entered it.
Part of Clay’s “Dance Off” related sulking has included his refusal to watch the video that you are about to watch. He has yet to see Aubrey’s video. I’ve seen it. It’s great. You have to pay attention to this one a little more. The entire first minute is Aubrey trying to get ready and in my opinion, it’s the funniest thing ever. Anyway, I’ll let you be the judge. Here it is:
Aubrey Enters the Dance Off from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Rememeber, I’ll have a vote at the end of 4 weeks to determine who is the best.
BTGOM: July
July/31/2008 11:06 AM Filed in: BTGOM
So I have recieved yet another self nomination for BTGOM. She actually sent messages to both my MySpace and Facebook, which under different circumstances, might qualify her for a slot in “Funny MySpace Messages” (look for a new installment soon). Instead, I was intorduced to a smart, motivated, woman with a high degree of boom-tho-ness and an even higher degree of proactivity. Oh yea, and she’s easy on the eyes. Verrry easy.
I’ll just tell you what she told me and you can read why I felt comfortable naming her BTGOM: July:
“Hey Rod,
I'm sure you get flooded with all kinds of crazy messages (actually, I know you do because I'm a loyal reader of your hilarious blog), but I figured I'd take a shot in the dark and contact you.
My name is Jordan, I'm 21, I go to Syracuse University, I like long walks on the beach and bubble baths, yadda yadda yadda... Point of this message: I am an intern with MTV News this summer (the hip hop department), and it's been the most incredible experience ever. I've met some pretty amazing people, and gained some amazing insight to this crazy industry that I hope to one day enter.
ANYWAYS... There's an opportunity that's been presented to all interns to promote this year's VMA's. The grand prize is to report live from the red carpet. Clearly I want to be on that damn carpet, haha. They want us to come up with creative and fun ways to promote the VMA's, and I know you're extremely creative and fun (based on what I've seen/read).
I guess I'm nominating myself for Boom Girl?! I'm going to start a YouTube channel and release exclusive info about the VMA's on them, and the more hits the better. If in any way you could lend your services and provide your fans access to me, I would be forever grateful! Hell, if I end up on that red carpet, I'll take you as my date! I realize how busy you are, so no hard feelings if you can't do anything, but it was worth a try, right?
Anyways, thanks for being so funny, love your blog and have gotten all my friends addicted now too. :)
With all the boom tho i can muster,
Jordan
Here are some of my articles, just so you know I'm for real :)
http://newsroom.mtv.com/20
08/06/23/ice-t-vs-soulja-b
oy-tellem-video-blog-beef-
heats-up-kanye-weighs-in/
http://newsroom.mtv.com/20
08/06/25/ne-yo-says-his-a-
milli-freestyle-is-not-aim
ed-at-chris-brown/
http://www.mtv.com/news/ar
ticles/1590795/20080711/yu
ng_berg.jhtml?rsspartner=r
ssColdFusion
“
SO at the end of the day, I can help a hot girl help herself on her way to her goals. If only there was a way she could get me a contract, then we’d truly be even. Although, if she does win the right to host the VMA’s, and she actually did ttake me as her date, it would be the biggest victory that Boom Tho has had to this point. Let’s make it happen!
So, withouy further adieu, I introduce the BTGOM for July 2008, Jordan Upmalis:



Go ahead and google her, add her on facebook, or myspace, do whatever it takes to get her, ahem, and me, to the VMA’s! Boom!
I’ll just tell you what she told me and you can read why I felt comfortable naming her BTGOM: July:
“Hey Rod,
I'm sure you get flooded with all kinds of crazy messages (actually, I know you do because I'm a loyal reader of your hilarious blog), but I figured I'd take a shot in the dark and contact you.
My name is Jordan, I'm 21, I go to Syracuse University, I like long walks on the beach and bubble baths, yadda yadda yadda... Point of this message: I am an intern with MTV News this summer (the hip hop department), and it's been the most incredible experience ever. I've met some pretty amazing people, and gained some amazing insight to this crazy industry that I hope to one day enter.
ANYWAYS... There's an opportunity that's been presented to all interns to promote this year's VMA's. The grand prize is to report live from the red carpet. Clearly I want to be on that damn carpet, haha. They want us to come up with creative and fun ways to promote the VMA's, and I know you're extremely creative and fun (based on what I've seen/read).
I guess I'm nominating myself for Boom Girl?! I'm going to start a YouTube channel and release exclusive info about the VMA's on them, and the more hits the better. If in any way you could lend your services and provide your fans access to me, I would be forever grateful! Hell, if I end up on that red carpet, I'll take you as my date! I realize how busy you are, so no hard feelings if you can't do anything, but it was worth a try, right?
Anyways, thanks for being so funny, love your blog and have gotten all my friends addicted now too. :)
With all the boom tho i can muster,
Jordan
Here are some of my articles, just so you know I'm for real :)
http://newsroom.mtv.com/20
08/06/23/ice-t-vs-soulja-b
oy-tellem-video-blog-beef-
heats-up-kanye-weighs-in/
http://newsroom.mtv.com/20
08/06/25/ne-yo-says-his-a-
milli-freestyle-is-not-aim
ed-at-chris-brown/
http://www.mtv.com/news/ar
ticles/1590795/20080711/yu
ng_berg.jhtml?rsspartner=r
ssColdFusion
“
SO at the end of the day, I can help a hot girl help herself on her way to her goals. If only there was a way she could get me a contract, then we’d truly be even. Although, if she does win the right to host the VMA’s, and she actually did ttake me as her date, it would be the biggest victory that Boom Tho has had to this point. Let’s make it happen!
So, withouy further adieu, I introduce the BTGOM for July 2008, Jordan Upmalis:



Go ahead and google her, add her on facebook, or myspace, do whatever it takes to get her, ahem, and me, to the VMA’s! Boom!
The Dance Off
July/24/2008 09:50 AM Filed in: Dance Off
A few weeks back, my boy Clayton, a couple of his co-workers and I wer having dinner in SF. Clayton works for a start-up video sharing website called “Howcast.com.” Anyway, I guess that being the only black guy there instantly shufles him to the top of most socially cool catagories.
I’m not sure how it came up, but one of his co-workers was talking about how great Clayton is at dancing. They all go out sometimes and Clayton hold down the dance floor while they all sit around and watch him work his moves. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when they were praising him as an honorable mention Jabawakee.
“Clay’s not a bad dancer,” I told them, “but he’s not exactly as tight as you’re making him sound.”
“When we go out, he has all the moves,” they informed me.
Clay was sitting there the whole time. You could tell he was ready to say something, but he was just acknowledging their words so far.
“In your group he may be at the top of the list, but in my group he’s like the third best,” I said.
That’s when he snapped. Clay made it a point to say that he was clearly the best in the group. I told him that he was for sure not better than JGant (I took myself out of it, but clearly I’m better too). I also told him that his “break-off-a-breezy” abilities are top notch, but his solo moves are what place him at #3. Clay took real offense to that.
We spent the next hour arguing, with his co-workers mocking input, over where he fell in the ranks of our group. Clay feels that I’m too tall to look right when dancing. He feels that JGant only has one real move, and is not a good break-off artist.
So, that night he just started dancing. I busted out the camera and I realized what was about to transpire. We now have a multi-person, two round, you-decided-the-winner, dance off. Each week I’ll post the video of a contestant or two and at the end of 4 weeks, Ill take a vote to crown the dance off champion. As of right now, the contestants are Clay, JGant, Aubrey (be prepared to die laughing), and myself.
Let’s kick it off right with Clayty Clays dance off video:
Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
I’m not sure how it came up, but one of his co-workers was talking about how great Clayton is at dancing. They all go out sometimes and Clayton hold down the dance floor while they all sit around and watch him work his moves. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when they were praising him as an honorable mention Jabawakee.
“Clay’s not a bad dancer,” I told them, “but he’s not exactly as tight as you’re making him sound.”
“When we go out, he has all the moves,” they informed me.
Clay was sitting there the whole time. You could tell he was ready to say something, but he was just acknowledging their words so far.
“In your group he may be at the top of the list, but in my group he’s like the third best,” I said.
That’s when he snapped. Clay made it a point to say that he was clearly the best in the group. I told him that he was for sure not better than JGant (I took myself out of it, but clearly I’m better too). I also told him that his “break-off-a-breezy” abilities are top notch, but his solo moves are what place him at #3. Clay took real offense to that.
We spent the next hour arguing, with his co-workers mocking input, over where he fell in the ranks of our group. Clay feels that I’m too tall to look right when dancing. He feels that JGant only has one real move, and is not a good break-off artist.
So, that night he just started dancing. I busted out the camera and I realized what was about to transpire. We now have a multi-person, two round, you-decided-the-winner, dance off. Each week I’ll post the video of a contestant or two and at the end of 4 weeks, Ill take a vote to crown the dance off champion. As of right now, the contestants are Clay, JGant, Aubrey (be prepared to die laughing), and myself.
Let’s kick it off right with Clayty Clays dance off video:
Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
How to Sneak Into Body English / Sugar Shane's My Boy!
July/20/2008 07:38 PM Filed in: Random
This story happened over Memorial Day weekend, but I was too busy to write about it before heading to the Summer League. Anyway, I definitely feel that it’s worth reading. In a way, it’s a story, but in another way, it’s a very simple way to start your night outside the Hard Rock hotel in Vegas and end your night inside of Body English nightclub at the Hard Rock. Here goes:
We started out our night in our pimp ass presidential suite at Caesar’s Palace. While we were decided where to go, I got an E-Mail from Dj Dig Dug alerting me that Body English was the spot to be that night.

As you can see, we are just about ready to make our moves for the night. From left to right it’s Cedric, Lil Jason, JGant, Me, and Ramy. The five of us had no idea what was in store for us, but with Dig Dug’s guidance, we were sure to have a lot of fun.
When we got over to the Hard Rock hotel, the lines were out of control. There must have been four different lines, all with a different meaning and all of those except for one led to another inner waiting area. Even with Dig Dug’s help, we were going to be in a world of hurt.
Thing about it was that Dig Dug told me a name to ask for and everywhere I tried to ask, I was told to talk to somebody else. I finally just chose the shortest line and cut to the front. The guy there sent me to the waiting area to ask for the guy I was looking for with the hook-up. The problem with this manuevar was that Ramy had dissappeared so now our 5 had become 4. Even more problematic was the fact that they were charging $100 per person to get in and once the bouncer decided to let us in, we would either have to find that connect quickly, or pay the cover.
Lil Jason, JGant and I were finally at the velvet rope. Any second now it would all work out or come to a depressing $100 end. Cedric was about 10 feet back talking to some girls. All of a sudden, Sugar Shane Mosely popped up behind JGant and me. The guy working the rope couldn’t see him though becuase we are over a foot taller than Shane. Already frustrated with the situation, we conceded that Sugar Shane was about to walk right in and we would be stuck there. We moved out of the way and told the bouncer that Sugar Shane was right there. He quickly grabbed Shane and asked him who he was with. Shane pointed to his crew, then turned back and pointed at Jgant and me and told the bouncer that we were with him too. Jgant quickly grabbed lil Jason and brought him with us.
The bouncer walked us through the kitchen, up some back stairs, and right up to the VIP section. The moment was filled with a high degree of Boom-Tho-Ness. When I first got to the VIP table, I noticed that there was a disposable camera, which I instantly commandeered. JGant and I were ready to rock and roll and get in there like swimwear.
Cedric, who was busy gaming up some girls, never caught up with us and was basically left outside. Ramy was still MIA and nobody knew what had happened to him. It didn’t matter though. We were inside gettin loose off that Goose courtesy of Sugar Shane Mosely.

What you see about is me, Shane, Lil Jason and JGant in the VIP. We were holdin it down in there for about 20-30 minutes when all of a sudden, Ramy shows up out of Nowhere:

I was so confused when Ramy showed up. We hadn’t seen the kid in an hour and we just figured he was locked out with Cedric. Ramy informed us that he had been inside of the club partying for an hour. JGant and I didn’t quite understand how that could be. The lines were super long and ridiculous. There was no way for him to get in, then find us up at the upper level VIP. It just didnt make sense. Ramy then began to tell us a story that we just couldn’t believe. If you want to sneak your way into Body English, now is the time to listen up. I’ll rewind back to when we first showed up at the Hard Rock hotel.
So Ramy, being very intoxicated and impatient, decided that he was ready to party right when we got there. Also, he had a couple of his boys meet him and I told him that it would be hard enough to get in with 5 men, let alone 7. After realizing how long the line was, he doubled back around to a place he hadn’t been since he was 16 years old.
Ramy now stood outside the Hard Rock hotel staring at the door he had discovered back when he was an underage kid trying to live up his Vegas experience. There are many doors outside of the Hard Rock hotel, but if you look, like he did that night, you’ll see a double glass door with two sets of white doors to the left of them. One is a single white door and the other is a double white door. Ramy confidently walked through the single white door, which led down a small flight of stairs and right into thr middle of the dance floor. JGant and I nearly fell over when he reached this point in his story.
Ramy then, forgetting that he had left his other two friends outside, went back up the stairs and back out the door. As soon as he cracked the secret door, his two homies were waiting for him outside and followed Ramy back in. They got to the bottom of the stairs and begin to celebrate by jumping around wildly. Right then, a security guard spots them and walks up to Ramy and says “You guys got in? Great. Now get the f*** out.”
Ramy and his boys were forced back out the way they came. At that point, they simply waited a couple minutes outside, then walked right back in through the door. This time, instead of celebrating, they came right up to the VIP and spotted JGant and me.

As you can see, the night ended very well for everyone... except Cedric. When I got back to my hotel room, Cedric was waiting there, alone. He was not happy about the fact that we all partied with Sugar Shane. His bad. He should have just snuck it!
We started out our night in our pimp ass presidential suite at Caesar’s Palace. While we were decided where to go, I got an E-Mail from Dj Dig Dug alerting me that Body English was the spot to be that night.

As you can see, we are just about ready to make our moves for the night. From left to right it’s Cedric, Lil Jason, JGant, Me, and Ramy. The five of us had no idea what was in store for us, but with Dig Dug’s guidance, we were sure to have a lot of fun.
When we got over to the Hard Rock hotel, the lines were out of control. There must have been four different lines, all with a different meaning and all of those except for one led to another inner waiting area. Even with Dig Dug’s help, we were going to be in a world of hurt.
Thing about it was that Dig Dug told me a name to ask for and everywhere I tried to ask, I was told to talk to somebody else. I finally just chose the shortest line and cut to the front. The guy there sent me to the waiting area to ask for the guy I was looking for with the hook-up. The problem with this manuevar was that Ramy had dissappeared so now our 5 had become 4. Even more problematic was the fact that they were charging $100 per person to get in and once the bouncer decided to let us in, we would either have to find that connect quickly, or pay the cover.
Lil Jason, JGant and I were finally at the velvet rope. Any second now it would all work out or come to a depressing $100 end. Cedric was about 10 feet back talking to some girls. All of a sudden, Sugar Shane Mosely popped up behind JGant and me. The guy working the rope couldn’t see him though becuase we are over a foot taller than Shane. Already frustrated with the situation, we conceded that Sugar Shane was about to walk right in and we would be stuck there. We moved out of the way and told the bouncer that Sugar Shane was right there. He quickly grabbed Shane and asked him who he was with. Shane pointed to his crew, then turned back and pointed at Jgant and me and told the bouncer that we were with him too. Jgant quickly grabbed lil Jason and brought him with us.
The bouncer walked us through the kitchen, up some back stairs, and right up to the VIP section. The moment was filled with a high degree of Boom-Tho-Ness. When I first got to the VIP table, I noticed that there was a disposable camera, which I instantly commandeered. JGant and I were ready to rock and roll and get in there like swimwear.
Cedric, who was busy gaming up some girls, never caught up with us and was basically left outside. Ramy was still MIA and nobody knew what had happened to him. It didn’t matter though. We were inside gettin loose off that Goose courtesy of Sugar Shane Mosely.

What you see about is me, Shane, Lil Jason and JGant in the VIP. We were holdin it down in there for about 20-30 minutes when all of a sudden, Ramy shows up out of Nowhere:

I was so confused when Ramy showed up. We hadn’t seen the kid in an hour and we just figured he was locked out with Cedric. Ramy informed us that he had been inside of the club partying for an hour. JGant and I didn’t quite understand how that could be. The lines were super long and ridiculous. There was no way for him to get in, then find us up at the upper level VIP. It just didnt make sense. Ramy then began to tell us a story that we just couldn’t believe. If you want to sneak your way into Body English, now is the time to listen up. I’ll rewind back to when we first showed up at the Hard Rock hotel.
So Ramy, being very intoxicated and impatient, decided that he was ready to party right when we got there. Also, he had a couple of his boys meet him and I told him that it would be hard enough to get in with 5 men, let alone 7. After realizing how long the line was, he doubled back around to a place he hadn’t been since he was 16 years old.
Ramy now stood outside the Hard Rock hotel staring at the door he had discovered back when he was an underage kid trying to live up his Vegas experience. There are many doors outside of the Hard Rock hotel, but if you look, like he did that night, you’ll see a double glass door with two sets of white doors to the left of them. One is a single white door and the other is a double white door. Ramy confidently walked through the single white door, which led down a small flight of stairs and right into thr middle of the dance floor. JGant and I nearly fell over when he reached this point in his story.
Ramy then, forgetting that he had left his other two friends outside, went back up the stairs and back out the door. As soon as he cracked the secret door, his two homies were waiting for him outside and followed Ramy back in. They got to the bottom of the stairs and begin to celebrate by jumping around wildly. Right then, a security guard spots them and walks up to Ramy and says “You guys got in? Great. Now get the f*** out.”
Ramy and his boys were forced back out the way they came. At that point, they simply waited a couple minutes outside, then walked right back in through the door. This time, instead of celebrating, they came right up to the VIP and spotted JGant and me.

As you can see, the night ended very well for everyone... except Cedric. When I got back to my hotel room, Cedric was waiting there, alone. He was not happy about the fact that we all partied with Sugar Shane. His bad. He should have just snuck it!
You Just Got JGanted!
July/06/2008 10:03 PM Filed in: Random
The second day of Memorial Day weekend, JGant, Kim, Ced and I were walking down the strip, when somebody thought it’d be a good idea to go into some bootleg casino and play the slots. I guess one of my homies had garnered a ticket that gave them $50 in free slot play, so thats what they did. It was obviously a set-up. A winner wasn’t a winner unless the jackpot was hit, which, of course, was never going to happen.
Well, while we were in this place, JGant and I walked around a bit because he wanted to play blackjack or something. After about a quarter-lap around the tables, someone yelled out to me.
“Rod Benson! Boom Tho!”
I turned around and there were some guys who looked pretty excited to be part of the movement. Soon after they saw me, they saw JGant.
“JGant! JGant! What’s up?!”
You have to understand that JGant usually doesn’t get the recognition. He gets some, but when he does, he ALWAYS feels big time when it happens. He makes a face that tells you that his heart and brain have just given each other a high five.
On this day, he quickly made the same face. He started smiling too as we started walking over to talk to the guys who were mad-boom-tho. The guys made it clear that they read TMRB and knew all the stories. They also made it clear that they knew JGant. I explained to them that he loves the recognition, which I think he also loved.
The who event took a turn when they explained to JGant why his name rings bells in their circle. They explained to us that their favorite entry on TMRB was “Don’t Make Me Punch You in the Balls... Again”. If you haven’t read that yet, do it now before you continue. It’s very important.
These guys then proceeded to say that they, sometimes sock eachother in the balls just to make each other mad or as a prank. They said that right after they sock their victim in the balls, they yell out “YOU JUST GOT JGANTED!” or “I JGANTED HIM!”
JGants brain and heart went from high-fiving, to collaborating on a way to erase these guys from the face of the earth. I’ve never seen him go from so happy to so annoyed in a second. These guys then proceeded to demonstrate the whole ball-punching motion while yelling out “I JGanted him!” It was real tough on JGant. I was ROLLING though. No way was this for real. People out there are really “JGanting” each other with my blog in mind? I LOVE it. I absolutely love it.
We took pictures with the guys (JGant wasn’t happy about the photo’s either) while they had their fists balled up in an “I’m about to ‘JGant’ you” fashion. Classic. I guess a new era has officially been ushered in: the “JGant him” era.

Well, while we were in this place, JGant and I walked around a bit because he wanted to play blackjack or something. After about a quarter-lap around the tables, someone yelled out to me.
“Rod Benson! Boom Tho!”
I turned around and there were some guys who looked pretty excited to be part of the movement. Soon after they saw me, they saw JGant.
“JGant! JGant! What’s up?!”
You have to understand that JGant usually doesn’t get the recognition. He gets some, but when he does, he ALWAYS feels big time when it happens. He makes a face that tells you that his heart and brain have just given each other a high five.
On this day, he quickly made the same face. He started smiling too as we started walking over to talk to the guys who were mad-boom-tho. The guys made it clear that they read TMRB and knew all the stories. They also made it clear that they knew JGant. I explained to them that he loves the recognition, which I think he also loved.
The who event took a turn when they explained to JGant why his name rings bells in their circle. They explained to us that their favorite entry on TMRB was “Don’t Make Me Punch You in the Balls... Again”. If you haven’t read that yet, do it now before you continue. It’s very important.
These guys then proceeded to say that they, sometimes sock eachother in the balls just to make each other mad or as a prank. They said that right after they sock their victim in the balls, they yell out “YOU JUST GOT JGANTED!” or “I JGANTED HIM!”
JGants brain and heart went from high-fiving, to collaborating on a way to erase these guys from the face of the earth. I’ve never seen him go from so happy to so annoyed in a second. These guys then proceeded to demonstrate the whole ball-punching motion while yelling out “I JGanted him!” It was real tough on JGant. I was ROLLING though. No way was this for real. People out there are really “JGanting” each other with my blog in mind? I LOVE it. I absolutely love it.
We took pictures with the guys (JGant wasn’t happy about the photo’s either) while they had their fists balled up in an “I’m about to ‘JGant’ you” fashion. Classic. I guess a new era has officially been ushered in: the “JGant him” era.

The Ipod Game?
July/04/2008 01:39 PM Filed in: Random
Memorial weekend was coming to an end and it seemed like we hadn’t really enjoyed our pool at Caesars Palace quite the way we should. On Memorial Day Monday we decided this should change. JGant, Ramy, and I headed to the elevator to go down to the pool. When we stepped on, there were three pretty good looking women on there too. We talked for a second, then parted ways when the elevator reached the lobby.
We dropped our bags off at the front desk and headed over to the pool. After searching for 3 chairs for what seemed like ages, we finally found our resting place in a shaded area of the pool deck and sat down. 20 minutes later, those same girls from the elevator came walking out of the pool in their swimsuits and sat in their chairs, which just so happened to be 15 feet from us, facing us.
I’m pretty sure that most girls look better in swimwear (see why I’m always trynna get in there?), and they were no different. They went from good to great just that quickly.
So now we are sitting in our chairs with our sunglasses on and they are in sitting in their chairs, sunglasses on, and we are all pretending like we arent looking at each other, which is impossible because our chairs are 15 feet away and facing towards one another. It was half-awkward, half-awesome. My glasses don’t allow you to see my eyes, so I made it a point to look straight ahead, but check them out at the same time.
Finally, JGant went to go grab something from his bag. I was going to ask him to grab my book so I could read, but I realized that that was foolish. I instead told him to grab my portable ipod speakers and my ipod. It was time to get this party started.
When he came back, I started playing music at max volume. The speakers are loud, but not THAT loud, so the girls could hear the song well enough, but not great. I played everything from Usher to Journey, from Bob Sinclair to Mickey Avalon. It wasn’t long before they all bought in. They were singing my songs amongst themselves like we were in a club. Still, the music hadn’t brought us together, which was my ultimate goal.
Ramy had just come out of the pool when I asked him to do me a favor. I told him that I was gonna play a song and that he should walk the ipod dock over to the girls and set it down right in front of them. He was reluctant at first, but after some more convincing, I started a song and he walked the dock over to the girls. He sat it down at the feet of the hottest girl and said “this is from him.”
“Tell me why
Ain't nothin' but a heartache
Tell me why
Ain't nothin' but a mistake
Tell me why
I never wanna hear you say
I want it that way”
Oh yea. I definitely sent them “I want it that way” by the Backstreet Boys. They laughed and enjoyed it. After that, the flood gates were open. I walked over and said “I’m sure you’re used to guys sending you drinks. I figured I’d send you a song. A song that shows just how I want it: that way.”
We started talkin w them and ended up riding in their car over to TAO Beach at the Venetian. Once we were there, we got in the pool and had the greatest pool party ever.
We finally parted ways at 9pm that night after a whole day that started with a song. If you’re not enough of a poet to compete in the Poem Game, then try sending a song. Maybe your day will turn out like ours did.
We dropped our bags off at the front desk and headed over to the pool. After searching for 3 chairs for what seemed like ages, we finally found our resting place in a shaded area of the pool deck and sat down. 20 minutes later, those same girls from the elevator came walking out of the pool in their swimsuits and sat in their chairs, which just so happened to be 15 feet from us, facing us.
I’m pretty sure that most girls look better in swimwear (see why I’m always trynna get in there?), and they were no different. They went from good to great just that quickly.
So now we are sitting in our chairs with our sunglasses on and they are in sitting in their chairs, sunglasses on, and we are all pretending like we arent looking at each other, which is impossible because our chairs are 15 feet away and facing towards one another. It was half-awkward, half-awesome. My glasses don’t allow you to see my eyes, so I made it a point to look straight ahead, but check them out at the same time.
Finally, JGant went to go grab something from his bag. I was going to ask him to grab my book so I could read, but I realized that that was foolish. I instead told him to grab my portable ipod speakers and my ipod. It was time to get this party started.
When he came back, I started playing music at max volume. The speakers are loud, but not THAT loud, so the girls could hear the song well enough, but not great. I played everything from Usher to Journey, from Bob Sinclair to Mickey Avalon. It wasn’t long before they all bought in. They were singing my songs amongst themselves like we were in a club. Still, the music hadn’t brought us together, which was my ultimate goal.
Ramy had just come out of the pool when I asked him to do me a favor. I told him that I was gonna play a song and that he should walk the ipod dock over to the girls and set it down right in front of them. He was reluctant at first, but after some more convincing, I started a song and he walked the dock over to the girls. He sat it down at the feet of the hottest girl and said “this is from him.”
“Tell me why
Ain't nothin' but a heartache
Tell me why
Ain't nothin' but a mistake
Tell me why
I never wanna hear you say
I want it that way”
Oh yea. I definitely sent them “I want it that way” by the Backstreet Boys. They laughed and enjoyed it. After that, the flood gates were open. I walked over and said “I’m sure you’re used to guys sending you drinks. I figured I’d send you a song. A song that shows just how I want it: that way.”
We started talkin w them and ended up riding in their car over to TAO Beach at the Venetian. Once we were there, we got in the pool and had the greatest pool party ever.
We finally parted ways at 9pm that night after a whole day that started with a song. If you’re not enough of a poet to compete in the Poem Game, then try sending a song. Maybe your day will turn out like ours did.
BTGOM: May (Yes, I know it's July right now)
July/03/2008 10:04 AM Filed in: BTGOM
This was meant to go up long ago, but that doesn’t mean that this month’s BTGOM is any less important than the past winners of the prestigious award. This month is particularly special actually, because I decided to include an honorable mention. It’s also special because both of the following Boom Tho Girls EARNED their spot.
In true pageant form, I’ll first list the honorable mention BTGOM. This girl earned her spot not because she is a model or a celebrity. It wasn’t because people emailed me about her. It wasn’t because she was discovered at a Des Moines, Iowa bar (been to many) like a diamond in the rough. This girl is an honorable mention BTGOM strictly due to the fact that she wanted to be and because she was persistent and witty in her pursuit of the title.
I hold a vote with the other Boom Tho Originators each month to determine the validity of the BTGOM’s and this vote placed her second. I felt that she still had to be mentioned because the people need to know just how she campaigned for her spot. It all started with this email:
“Before I begin my campaign for BTGOTM (what a long acronym), let me say I recognize that I’m not some sexy beltway diva, nor am I a lovable NBC star, nor have I ever been in an ad for deoderant. Your GOTMs so far have been from the upper echelons of sexy-society—the lucky Boom Tho ladies have glamour shots and full Google Image portfolios to match. Some Boom Tho haters might even argue that these ladies are unattainable for a NB(DL)A star like yourself (For the record, I completely disagree—sky’s the limit!)
As your stat sheet has filled, your blog roll expanded and your hit counter skyrocketed like the Tech-Bubble Dow Jones, your audience has grown and changed. We are a diverse bunch who giggle when you clown on fellow NBA bloggers and love the inflection on Boom GOT them Tho! We enjoy both the simple pleasures of MySpace message exposés and the high-brow discussions about Pistol Pete. We have both your TMRB and NBA Experts Blog on our Google Reader RSS feed because we’re incredibly technologically sophisticated.
What I’m trying to say is, I think it’s time the BTGOTM went out to a ‘normal’ reader. However, when I say normal, I mean in the same way that Surf Ninja’s was a ‘normal’ 90’s movie. I am a New York native, now in my third year studying at Harvard. I have red hair and playful freckles. I laugh out loud to your postings in the library while studying for exams, I say Boom got them DOS with decent regularity, and my Boom Tho! Shirt is already in the mail. Just like your blog, I stay simultaneously extremely educated, incredibly comical and super classy.
Boom Tho.
Sarah Sherman”
Who the hell is Sarah Sherman? I began to wonder that to myself, among other things. She got immediate points for mentioning “Surf Ninja’s,” which was a move I would have pulled. Not to mention that Ton Loc was somehow cast in a movie about a family of surfers who know Karate.
I forwarded the email to my other Boom Tho Originators. Here are some of the immediate responses:
“Impressive argument. But this girl has red hair, freckles and with a name like Sarah Sherman is DEFINITELY Jewish. Being a member of the tribe myself, and having seen my fair share of redheaded, freckled Jewish women, I will pay your cover at any club the next time you come out here if she's actually cute. Plus she sounds way to smart to be cute.” -- Alex
“wow this chick is on it pretty tough...(maybe that's what harvard does to you?), but I think its a good idea to have users as the boom tho girl of the month, we've talked about this before.....” -- Clay
Alex was right. Nobody that smart could be attractive, right? Her words were already making her attractive and thus making us all believe that it was too good to be true. I emailed her back asking for pictures. Gotta have pictures for a BTGOM. She sent me this email and the following pictures:
“Rod,
I must extend my deepest apologies. My absence from world wide web contact has been a result of two things. First, crazy school ish has picked up around here and I have been struggling to tread water in a sea of response papers and exams. I've kept my head high, my dixon-ticonderogas (an exceptional pencil) impeccably sharpened and my Macbook on permanent 'charged' status--i'm in the clear now for a few weeks until finals. Second, and more gut-wrenching, Mike Mongtomery?!?? While Braun's firing was reasonable, hiring Benedict Arnold was a bold move that I have yet to come to terms with. Not since Shareef went one-and-done on us have I been this worried about Bears basketball.
As for the photos--i'm here to flood your inbox like it's a flickr account. Here's three shots, each with its own fun and flirty style. While an A-list BTGOTMer would roll with A-list celebs, the more 'average' BTGOTMs out there kick it incredibly C-list (Read: Leilene from Flavor of Love.. Ohhh yeaaah).
I must admit, I was a bit hurt when I saw you opened up the competition to the whole internet via your blogosphere casting call, but I think this one's in the back of the net for me.
Boom got them DOS.
Sarah.”

I couldnt be mad at that. She definitely is cute. If I met her at a Bar, I would make a play. She got my vote to be a BTGOM, but she just couldn’t beat out this months winner. She did send me another email couple weeks ago that I forwarded to the homies as well:
“so i wore my "boom tho shirt" out last night.
the crowds went wild.
i may or may not be the illest chick on campus.”
Alex replied:
“This chick is funny.”
Clay said:
“can we get a pic at least with her wearing the shirt? how bout she spreads the boomthodome to the harvard campus...haven't seen too many orders come down from beantown. “
Now, for THE May BTGOM. She earned her spot as well, but in a different way. I’ve known her for years, and she has always hyped the movement. So much so, that she actually created the very first boom tho shirt:

Yep, that was her creation. Her boom-tho-ness is high, but her accolades are even higher. She was the Gatorade High School Volleyball National Player of the Year, an All American at the University of Arizona, and a current member of USA Volleyball which is currently training for the Beijing Olympics. She just signed a three year deal with Under Armour and has other modeling ventures.
Even being as big time as she is, she still prefers to rock a Boom Tho shirt on the weekends (dresses and heels at night). So here is the May BTGOM, Kimberly Glass:


Oh yea, and she’s 6’2” tall!

Boom.
In true pageant form, I’ll first list the honorable mention BTGOM. This girl earned her spot not because she is a model or a celebrity. It wasn’t because people emailed me about her. It wasn’t because she was discovered at a Des Moines, Iowa bar (been to many) like a diamond in the rough. This girl is an honorable mention BTGOM strictly due to the fact that she wanted to be and because she was persistent and witty in her pursuit of the title.
I hold a vote with the other Boom Tho Originators each month to determine the validity of the BTGOM’s and this vote placed her second. I felt that she still had to be mentioned because the people need to know just how she campaigned for her spot. It all started with this email:
“Before I begin my campaign for BTGOTM (what a long acronym), let me say I recognize that I’m not some sexy beltway diva, nor am I a lovable NBC star, nor have I ever been in an ad for deoderant. Your GOTMs so far have been from the upper echelons of sexy-society—the lucky Boom Tho ladies have glamour shots and full Google Image portfolios to match. Some Boom Tho haters might even argue that these ladies are unattainable for a NB(DL)A star like yourself (For the record, I completely disagree—sky’s the limit!)
As your stat sheet has filled, your blog roll expanded and your hit counter skyrocketed like the Tech-Bubble Dow Jones, your audience has grown and changed. We are a diverse bunch who giggle when you clown on fellow NBA bloggers and love the inflection on Boom GOT them Tho! We enjoy both the simple pleasures of MySpace message exposés and the high-brow discussions about Pistol Pete. We have both your TMRB and NBA Experts Blog on our Google Reader RSS feed because we’re incredibly technologically sophisticated.
What I’m trying to say is, I think it’s time the BTGOTM went out to a ‘normal’ reader. However, when I say normal, I mean in the same way that Surf Ninja’s was a ‘normal’ 90’s movie. I am a New York native, now in my third year studying at Harvard. I have red hair and playful freckles. I laugh out loud to your postings in the library while studying for exams, I say Boom got them DOS with decent regularity, and my Boom Tho! Shirt is already in the mail. Just like your blog, I stay simultaneously extremely educated, incredibly comical and super classy.
Boom Tho.
Sarah Sherman”
Who the hell is Sarah Sherman? I began to wonder that to myself, among other things. She got immediate points for mentioning “Surf Ninja’s,” which was a move I would have pulled. Not to mention that Ton Loc was somehow cast in a movie about a family of surfers who know Karate.
I forwarded the email to my other Boom Tho Originators. Here are some of the immediate responses:
“Impressive argument. But this girl has red hair, freckles and with a name like Sarah Sherman is DEFINITELY Jewish. Being a member of the tribe myself, and having seen my fair share of redheaded, freckled Jewish women, I will pay your cover at any club the next time you come out here if she's actually cute. Plus she sounds way to smart to be cute.” -- Alex
“wow this chick is on it pretty tough...(maybe that's what harvard does to you?), but I think its a good idea to have users as the boom tho girl of the month, we've talked about this before.....” -- Clay
Alex was right. Nobody that smart could be attractive, right? Her words were already making her attractive and thus making us all believe that it was too good to be true. I emailed her back asking for pictures. Gotta have pictures for a BTGOM. She sent me this email and the following pictures:
“Rod,
I must extend my deepest apologies. My absence from world wide web contact has been a result of two things. First, crazy school ish has picked up around here and I have been struggling to tread water in a sea of response papers and exams. I've kept my head high, my dixon-ticonderogas (an exceptional pencil) impeccably sharpened and my Macbook on permanent 'charged' status--i'm in the clear now for a few weeks until finals. Second, and more gut-wrenching, Mike Mongtomery?!?? While Braun's firing was reasonable, hiring Benedict Arnold was a bold move that I have yet to come to terms with. Not since Shareef went one-and-done on us have I been this worried about Bears basketball.
As for the photos--i'm here to flood your inbox like it's a flickr account. Here's three shots, each with its own fun and flirty style. While an A-list BTGOTMer would roll with A-list celebs, the more 'average' BTGOTMs out there kick it incredibly C-list (Read: Leilene from Flavor of Love.. Ohhh yeaaah).
I must admit, I was a bit hurt when I saw you opened up the competition to the whole internet via your blogosphere casting call, but I think this one's in the back of the net for me.
Boom got them DOS.
Sarah.”

I couldnt be mad at that. She definitely is cute. If I met her at a Bar, I would make a play. She got my vote to be a BTGOM, but she just couldn’t beat out this months winner. She did send me another email couple weeks ago that I forwarded to the homies as well:
“so i wore my "boom tho shirt" out last night.
the crowds went wild.
i may or may not be the illest chick on campus.”
Alex replied:
“This chick is funny.”
Clay said:
“can we get a pic at least with her wearing the shirt? how bout she spreads the boomthodome to the harvard campus...haven't seen too many orders come down from beantown. “
Now, for THE May BTGOM. She earned her spot as well, but in a different way. I’ve known her for years, and she has always hyped the movement. So much so, that she actually created the very first boom tho shirt:

Yep, that was her creation. Her boom-tho-ness is high, but her accolades are even higher. She was the Gatorade High School Volleyball National Player of the Year, an All American at the University of Arizona, and a current member of USA Volleyball which is currently training for the Beijing Olympics. She just signed a three year deal with Under Armour and has other modeling ventures.
Even being as big time as she is, she still prefers to rock a Boom Tho shirt on the weekends (dresses and heels at night). So here is the May BTGOM, Kimberly Glass:


Oh yea, and she’s 6’2” tall!

Boom.
Return of the Mac
July/03/2008 09:57 AM Filed in: Random
It’s been damn near 40 days since my last post. I’ll explain why real quickly. My trusty old MacBook decided to take a permanent vacation. It was working just fine, then it just never turned on again. The sourcefile for my site was stuck on that computer and thus, lost forever. I have since purchased a new MacBook Pro and started the rebuilding process, which included copying and pasting ALL the content from my old site.
Anyways, now I have MANY entries to update over the next couple weeks, so expect a healthy dose of ridiculousness.
Anyways, now I have MANY entries to update over the next couple weeks, so expect a healthy dose of ridiculousness.
Frantic Search for Jeans in Vegas
May/21/2008 03:57 PM Filed in: Random
When my season ended, I was scheduled to go to Eugene, OR for the weekend to get together with my man Sammy Glaser and shoot some photos for Bill Adler Designs. Well, the trip was paid for and everything, when I found out that JGant was gonna be in Vegas that same weekend. How could I pass on an opportunity to party with my partner in crime in the Sin City? I couldn't. I had to switch it up and make my way down to Vegas.
Along with JGant was a whole crew of Berkeley kids who were all part of my crew back in the day, so I didn't mind sharing a room with 3 other grown men. The entire weekend was ridiculous to be honest. We had a group of about 12 in 3 adjoining rooms, so everybody was wilin' out the whole time. We hit the town in our boom tho shirts as a crew and everything. It was solid. We even started freestylin' some boom tho raps while we were pre-gaming in the hotel room:
As you can see we are goin pretty hard right now. Right after this, my man Anthony Bright took over and gave me a solid boom tho flow that we got on tape (rated R):
Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Well in the midst of this ridiculous weekend, I hit up my man Ryan Vezapour and asked him what would be crackin for the weekend. At the same time, I emailed the Vegas DJ with the most boom-tho-ness, DJ Dig Dug, and asked him the same. Ryan told us about the Kanye West concert that was crackin that Friday, and it so happened that Dig Dug said the same thing. Boom. JGant and I knew what we were doing that night. We were gonna drop $88 apiece and check out one of the best rappers on the planet out at the Red Rock Hotel and Casino, which was about 25 minutes off the strip.
Ryan picked us up and drove us out there for the big show. When we got to the outdoor venue, Lupe Fiasco was already killin the mic up on stage so we settled into the middle of the pack and got right to enjoying ourselves. During the course of the concert, about 5-7 people approached me and proclaimed their boom-tho-ness. It was pretty solid. Except for this one girl behind me who kept grabbin my ass the whole night. When I asked her what was goin on, she said she saw me on E:60 and I couldn't help but laugh. Silly.
I've been to Rock the Mic, Up in Smoke, and the Glow in the Dark tour, and Kanye's performance that night at Glow in the Dark was easily the best I've ever seen from a rapper. Crazy stage, no hype men, 20 songs, and the straight up realness bein' spit every verse. While I was enjoying the show, Dj Dig Dug told me that he was DJing the afterparty at the club inside of Red Rock. He said that we should just go up to the door, drop his name, and boom boom.
So, after the show we walked over to the club (like everyone else) and told the security that Dig Dug had us. He left, then came back and said that we were good. As we were about to walk in, he stopped us. Ryan and I had on shorts since it was Vegas and it was an outdoor party. He said that the shorts would not fly. He said we were good if we came back in some jeans. Damn. So close, yet so far away. Our hotel was 25 minutes away and it was already 10:40, driving back to the strip would mean that we would just go somewhere over there and give up on the Kanye afterparty. We needed to get some jeans, and fast.
We walked out to Ryan's car. He had a pair of jeans in his trunk that fit him just nicely, but I had nothing to work with. What you are about to see is a video documentary of what transpired next:
Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
What you need to understand is that Wal-Mart was about 10 minutes away, so it made sense to make that trip considering that every other store was closed. Also, I could have probably worn the 36 length jeans, but there was no way I was gonna be caught dead in some coddamn wranglers. No way. Luckily for us, JGant didn't recognize what developed and we ended up having a pretty spectacular night. I wore his nice jeans and he wore the wranglers.
We met up with Dig Dug in the party and told him what kind of music we were lookin for. That dude HOOKED IT UP. Have you ever seen someone C-Walk and get Hyphy in some Wrangler jeans? I have. His name is JGant and it was a legendary moment. It was a moment that taught me that if you have a high degree of boom-tho-ness in your heart, it doesn't matter if you just bought your jeans at Wal-Mart. JGant still got down and pulled a couple numbers. Mad-boom-tho-ness.
Along with JGant was a whole crew of Berkeley kids who were all part of my crew back in the day, so I didn't mind sharing a room with 3 other grown men. The entire weekend was ridiculous to be honest. We had a group of about 12 in 3 adjoining rooms, so everybody was wilin' out the whole time. We hit the town in our boom tho shirts as a crew and everything. It was solid. We even started freestylin' some boom tho raps while we were pre-gaming in the hotel room:
As you can see we are goin pretty hard right now. Right after this, my man Anthony Bright took over and gave me a solid boom tho flow that we got on tape (rated R):
Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
Well in the midst of this ridiculous weekend, I hit up my man Ryan Vezapour and asked him what would be crackin for the weekend. At the same time, I emailed the Vegas DJ with the most boom-tho-ness, DJ Dig Dug, and asked him the same. Ryan told us about the Kanye West concert that was crackin that Friday, and it so happened that Dig Dug said the same thing. Boom. JGant and I knew what we were doing that night. We were gonna drop $88 apiece and check out one of the best rappers on the planet out at the Red Rock Hotel and Casino, which was about 25 minutes off the strip.
Ryan picked us up and drove us out there for the big show. When we got to the outdoor venue, Lupe Fiasco was already killin the mic up on stage so we settled into the middle of the pack and got right to enjoying ourselves. During the course of the concert, about 5-7 people approached me and proclaimed their boom-tho-ness. It was pretty solid. Except for this one girl behind me who kept grabbin my ass the whole night. When I asked her what was goin on, she said she saw me on E:60 and I couldn't help but laugh. Silly.
I've been to Rock the Mic, Up in Smoke, and the Glow in the Dark tour, and Kanye's performance that night at Glow in the Dark was easily the best I've ever seen from a rapper. Crazy stage, no hype men, 20 songs, and the straight up realness bein' spit every verse. While I was enjoying the show, Dj Dig Dug told me that he was DJing the afterparty at the club inside of Red Rock. He said that we should just go up to the door, drop his name, and boom boom.
So, after the show we walked over to the club (like everyone else) and told the security that Dig Dug had us. He left, then came back and said that we were good. As we were about to walk in, he stopped us. Ryan and I had on shorts since it was Vegas and it was an outdoor party. He said that the shorts would not fly. He said we were good if we came back in some jeans. Damn. So close, yet so far away. Our hotel was 25 minutes away and it was already 10:40, driving back to the strip would mean that we would just go somewhere over there and give up on the Kanye afterparty. We needed to get some jeans, and fast.
We walked out to Ryan's car. He had a pair of jeans in his trunk that fit him just nicely, but I had nothing to work with. What you are about to see is a video documentary of what transpired next:
Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
What you need to understand is that Wal-Mart was about 10 minutes away, so it made sense to make that trip considering that every other store was closed. Also, I could have probably worn the 36 length jeans, but there was no way I was gonna be caught dead in some coddamn wranglers. No way. Luckily for us, JGant didn't recognize what developed and we ended up having a pretty spectacular night. I wore his nice jeans and he wore the wranglers.
We met up with Dig Dug in the party and told him what kind of music we were lookin for. That dude HOOKED IT UP. Have you ever seen someone C-Walk and get Hyphy in some Wrangler jeans? I have. His name is JGant and it was a legendary moment. It was a moment that taught me that if you have a high degree of boom-tho-ness in your heart, it doesn't matter if you just bought your jeans at Wal-Mart. JGant still got down and pulled a couple numbers. Mad-boom-tho-ness.
Poem Game 3
May/13/2008 03:55 PM Filed in: Poems
I was down in San Diego last week to visit the mother when I decided that it would be a good idea to visit my high school's basketball team banquet. You know, one of those end of the year, let's celebrate the good guys and give certificates to the scrubs, type of deal.
While I was there, some of the kids on the Varsity team wanted to know how I felt about helping them work on one of the servers with some poetry. Specifically, they wanted to play The Poem Game. I was all for it, of course. I was able to grab a pen and a napkin and I got to work. It seems to be getting harder to come up with new poems on the fly, but I was still able to whip one up. This is what I wrote for them:
Outside this room golf is everywhere,
But inside this place love is in the air
You wear black and white, I want to Looky
You look like a tasty Oreo cookie
Think about the games we could play
In a golf cart out on Lomas Santa Fe
Monica, you work here, I'm from Torrey Pines
Monica I could say your name a 1000 times
If I'm a ninja turtle, be my April O'niel
Come get my Ooze, if that's how you feel
Better yet I'll be Shrek, you be Fiona
We'd make sweet artwork like the Mona
Let me take you out to lunch, be my Hannah Montana
You bring some chips, I'll bring the banana!
I gave the napkin back to Ramsey Hopkins, a junior at TP. He then gave it to the server. Here's how it went down:
Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
While I was there, some of the kids on the Varsity team wanted to know how I felt about helping them work on one of the servers with some poetry. Specifically, they wanted to play The Poem Game. I was all for it, of course. I was able to grab a pen and a napkin and I got to work. It seems to be getting harder to come up with new poems on the fly, but I was still able to whip one up. This is what I wrote for them:
Outside this room golf is everywhere,
But inside this place love is in the air
You wear black and white, I want to Looky
You look like a tasty Oreo cookie
Think about the games we could play
In a golf cart out on Lomas Santa Fe
Monica, you work here, I'm from Torrey Pines
Monica I could say your name a 1000 times
If I'm a ninja turtle, be my April O'niel
Come get my Ooze, if that's how you feel
Better yet I'll be Shrek, you be Fiona
We'd make sweet artwork like the Mona
Let me take you out to lunch, be my Hannah Montana
You bring some chips, I'll bring the banana!
I gave the napkin back to Ramsey Hopkins, a junior at TP. He then gave it to the server. Here's how it went down:
Untitled from Rod Benson on Vimeo.
The Bachelor Party
May/07/2008 03:52 PM Filed in: Random
What you are about to witness is an email account of a very terrible situation that me and some of my boys are going through. I'll give you a little back-story on the issue first. My roommate of four years, Richard Midgley, is getting married this summer. He is the first of my friends to get married, so I'm kind of new to the whole process. The lack of experience comes into play even more because I am actually in the wedding, so I am one of three guys all in charge of making sure the bachelor party is off the chain. Now you know all you need to know to read the following. It's an email sent by Christian Prelle (my hoops teammate turned model friend) regarding the bachelor party situation, Richard was not CC'd in this email:
We have handled the news of Rmidge getting married pretty well. Unfortunately though, we've just been hit with something that cannot be forgiven or forgotten as long as we live.
Im assuming that we are all in agreement with the fact that a man's bachelor party is his last chance as a free man to really get loose with his best buds. Im not saying that he will never go out again and get wild...im just saying that its a special time for us to commemorate the fact that he is signing his balls away for the rest of his life. Lets also be honest and say that the bachelor party is never only about the bachelor, its about his boys. A bachelor party is a prime opportunity for guys like Conor to swoop and maybe pick up some sixty year olds and make out in the middle of the casino, a prime time for Lup to find some Lup breezes make them cry and come home with lion claw marks all over his back, a prime time for space to find a nice blonde breeder and wife the shit out of her, Rod can get some amazing footage for his next music vid, and last but not least Mike will be able to disappear for hours and talk on the phone to his girl and make up a lie on why he has to take an early flight home.
Well, all of these amazing scenarios are in jeopardy of never happening. Apparently, Richard cant go to Vegas! I can hear the collective, "WHY!" amongst all of you. No, its not because of a family emergency. No, its not because he doesnt think Vegas would be fun. No, its not because he doesnt want to lose the money he is saving for the honeymoon on gambling. All of these MIGHT be acceptable excuses. As you have probably guessed by now: Its because Vanessa said he is not allowed!
I know there are other places to have bachelor parties, but come on when you're in America and you here the words bachelor party you immediately think Vegas. Of course, we dont want to go to Vegas because we want Midgley to bang some hooker like Vanessa is probably thinking. We want to go to Vegas because it presents the most opportunity, in the short period of time we have, to make some legendary moments.
We all remember the old Rmidge, probably at one time the most solid among us. The guy who claimed he would never be the first to get married, the guy who used to get in a bar brawl anytime he went to bear's lair, the guy who would cut off his own hand before ever holding a breezes in public, and most importantly the guy who ALWAYS had his boy's backs no matter what. Well, that guy is looooooonnnnnnggggggg gone. I guess we'll just have to wait for Mike's or Chase's wedding, which ever comes first, to do Vegas big time.
If there still are any questions as to why we arent going to Vegas please direct your emails to the undisputed number one saver of all time r*****@gmail.com. If there are any alternative ideas for the bach party please email me.
RELL
So that email was sent to all the boys on April 23rd. On April 28th Chase Lyman, former Cal football star wide-out, sent this as a reply:
Since Vegas is now out of the running apparently, I have some ideas for other things we can do for the bachelor party.
-Monterey Bay Aquarium
-Movie night in Walnut Creek
-Poker night at Conor's place
-Go to a poetry reading on Shattuck
-6 Flags/Great America
-Mystic bowling night a Palo Alto Bowl
Let's see if we can get any of these locations approved and I'll set it up.
I was actually at Prelle's house in Newport Beach when we read this email from Chase. I realized that Richard was now CCd on the email so it could blow up. It prompted Prelle to immediately send this right back:
Take richard's email off any further inquiries about the bachelor party and insert vanessas because she makes all the decisions. The sad part is I'm not trying to be funny, I'm dead serious.
Chase, the poetry reading on Shattuck is the only idea that can potentially get the go ahead from the head honcho...if and only if the poetry contains no profanity whatsoever, no sexual references of any kind, and as long as its during the day so we can have Richard home before the street lights go on.
We wont be able to go to the aquarium because the female fish and mammals dont wear any clothes. We wont be able to go to movie night because its to late and all the movies nowadays contain violence and nudity and profanity...all of which are completely off limits for Richard. Poker night, I'm sure she'll laugh in his face at the mention of this idea...the potential to invite strippers over, and, of course, Richard is strictly prohibited from gambling for the rest of his life. Six flags is off limits because of the dangers the roller coasters present...we might be able to get away with going to a theme park if and only if it's guys only day at the venue. Mystic bowling is obviously to late at night and there might be drinking which is also strictly prohibited because Richard is only allowed to have alcohol for special occasions like family parties or baby showers and even then its a two beer limit, no hard alcohol of any kind.
Oh man this had me just dying. Richard was my roommate for four years, and now it had really come to this! Well, I guess Vanessa (Richard's Fiance) didn't take all of this too well. She called Prelle from England to call him out on many things. I couldn't exactly hear the words, but she was serious. If she wanted to call him out, she should have just pasted some of Prelle's modeling photos on the internet, like I do all the time:
I digress, this is about Rich, not Prelle. After the phone call, Prelle sent another email to everyone:
Just to forewarn everyone, you are not only sending a message to Richard when you send something to HIS email address. His address is shared with Vanessa. Richard/Vanessa, could you let us know if Richard has an email he uses just for himself in case we have anything private we want to send him.
Thanks
Oh man I was rolling. I thought this would end it all, but alas, a few days ago, I got one more email from Prelle. I guess there is a site called "The Jew Knew" where important questions get answered. To quote "The Jew":
"This is no AskJeeves...Jeeves is actually my bitch. I've got a tailored answer for every question. You heard me...I know my sh*t.
Try me...ask me anything. Just make sure it has nothing to do with Math or Religion.
I'll have a response e-mailed to you within 24 hours.
- The Jew"
So, Prelle's question and "The Jew's" response are both currently pasted right on the front of thejewknew.com, but I'll still list them here. I had to edit it a bit, even for TMRB:
Dear Jew: One of my best friends is getting married and I am the best man. Of course, I'm automatically hit with the responsibility of planning the bachelor party. Vegas, right? Of course, Vegas. Only problem is his fiance will not allow him to go. Last time I checked if you are a grown man you shouldnt have to listen when someone tells you what do. I had the whole thing planned out and now everyone one of our friends thinks this guy is a joke, including me. How do we tell him he doesnt have to listen to her? How do we tell him that if he listens to her now shell be telling him what to do until they get divorced? This guy has pulled a complete 180 from the guy we went to college with which wast that long ago? How do we get the old guy back?
**Response**
Your friend is pussy whipped. He’s getting married for f*cks sake. The guy you went to college with is gone…You heard me…GONE. There is no getting this guy back. In fact, your friendship is probably already in jeopardy. The wife has probably started to “phase out” his college buddies in lieu of couples…F*CK THAT.
Here’s what to do. Tell the wife…not your buddy…that you respect her decision and that you’re working on a contingency plan.
Here’s the plan:
Have all your buddies book flights to Cabo San Lucas and get everyone to pitch for a flight for the groom.
Tell the wife after the trip has been booked that instead of partying like animals for an entire weekend, you’ve decided do a more relaxing bachelor party to Cabo for some fishing and golf. Tell her the arrangements have already been made and airfare has been booked. She’ll be pissed, but the damage has been done.
Depending on the # of guys in your party, Stay at the ME (If less than 10) or book a house through:
www.Cabovillas.com
Get a house in Pedrigal…on the hill overlooking downtown. These guys will take good care of you and have a great inventory of sick houses/villas. You can pull chicks back to the house and you don’t have to worry about being too loud and getting kicked out. Cabo has a great pool scene and plenty of hot babies.
At the wedding…your speech needs to call the bitch out. Then tell her that you hate fishing and that you suck at golf.
Good luck. Bring your own blow…
The Jew
www.thejewknew.com
So "The Jew" gave us a possibility, Chase gave us some possibilities, and, of course, we could just go to Vegas. What do you think of our options? Scroll down to Vote below:
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We have handled the news of Rmidge getting married pretty well. Unfortunately though, we've just been hit with something that cannot be forgiven or forgotten as long as we live.
Im assuming that we are all in agreement with the fact that a man's bachelor party is his last chance as a free man to really get loose with his best buds. Im not saying that he will never go out again and get wild...im just saying that its a special time for us to commemorate the fact that he is signing his balls away for the rest of his life. Lets also be honest and say that the bachelor party is never only about the bachelor, its about his boys. A bachelor party is a prime opportunity for guys like Conor to swoop and maybe pick up some sixty year olds and make out in the middle of the casino, a prime time for Lup to find some Lup breezes make them cry and come home with lion claw marks all over his back, a prime time for space to find a nice blonde breeder and wife the shit out of her, Rod can get some amazing footage for his next music vid, and last but not least Mike will be able to disappear for hours and talk on the phone to his girl and make up a lie on why he has to take an early flight home.
Well, all of these amazing scenarios are in jeopardy of never happening. Apparently, Richard cant go to Vegas! I can hear the collective, "WHY!" amongst all of you. No, its not because of a family emergency. No, its not because he doesnt think Vegas would be fun. No, its not because he doesnt want to lose the money he is saving for the honeymoon on gambling. All of these MIGHT be acceptable excuses. As you have probably guessed by now: Its because Vanessa said he is not allowed!
I know there are other places to have bachelor parties, but come on when you're in America and you here the words bachelor party you immediately think Vegas. Of course, we dont want to go to Vegas because we want Midgley to bang some hooker like Vanessa is probably thinking. We want to go to Vegas because it presents the most opportunity, in the short period of time we have, to make some legendary moments.
We all remember the old Rmidge, probably at one time the most solid among us. The guy who claimed he would never be the first to get married, the guy who used to get in a bar brawl anytime he went to bear's lair, the guy who would cut off his own hand before ever holding a breezes in public, and most importantly the guy who ALWAYS had his boy's backs no matter what. Well, that guy is looooooonnnnnnggggggg gone. I guess we'll just have to wait for Mike's or Chase's wedding, which ever comes first, to do Vegas big time.
If there still are any questions as to why we arent going to Vegas please direct your emails to the undisputed number one saver of all time r*****@gmail.com. If there are any alternative ideas for the bach party please email me.
RELL
So that email was sent to all the boys on April 23rd. On April 28th Chase Lyman, former Cal football star wide-out, sent this as a reply:
Since Vegas is now out of the running apparently, I have some ideas for other things we can do for the bachelor party.
-Monterey Bay Aquarium
-Movie night in Walnut Creek
-Poker night at Conor's place
-Go to a poetry reading on Shattuck
-6 Flags/Great America
-Mystic bowling night a Palo Alto Bowl
Let's see if we can get any of these locations approved and I'll set it up.
I was actually at Prelle's house in Newport Beach when we read this email from Chase. I realized that Richard was now CCd on the email so it could blow up. It prompted Prelle to immediately send this right back:
Take richard's email off any further inquiries about the bachelor party and insert vanessas because she makes all the decisions. The sad part is I'm not trying to be funny, I'm dead serious.
Chase, the poetry reading on Shattuck is the only idea that can potentially get the go ahead from the head honcho...if and only if the poetry contains no profanity whatsoever, no sexual references of any kind, and as long as its during the day so we can have Richard home before the street lights go on.
We wont be able to go to the aquarium because the female fish and mammals dont wear any clothes. We wont be able to go to movie night because its to late and all the movies nowadays contain violence and nudity and profanity...all of which are completely off limits for Richard. Poker night, I'm sure she'll laugh in his face at the mention of this idea...the potential to invite strippers over, and, of course, Richard is strictly prohibited from gambling for the rest of his life. Six flags is off limits because of the dangers the roller coasters present...we might be able to get away with going to a theme park if and only if it's guys only day at the venue. Mystic bowling is obviously to late at night and there might be drinking which is also strictly prohibited because Richard is only allowed to have alcohol for special occasions like family parties or baby showers and even then its a two beer limit, no hard alcohol of any kind.
Oh man this had me just dying. Richard was my roommate for four years, and now it had really come to this! Well, I guess Vanessa (Richard's Fiance) didn't take all of this too well. She called Prelle from England to call him out on many things. I couldn't exactly hear the words, but she was serious. If she wanted to call him out, she should have just pasted some of Prelle's modeling photos on the internet, like I do all the time:
I digress, this is about Rich, not Prelle. After the phone call, Prelle sent another email to everyone:
Just to forewarn everyone, you are not only sending a message to Richard when you send something to HIS email address. His address is shared with Vanessa. Richard/Vanessa, could you let us know if Richard has an email he uses just for himself in case we have anything private we want to send him.
Thanks
Oh man I was rolling. I thought this would end it all, but alas, a few days ago, I got one more email from Prelle. I guess there is a site called "The Jew Knew" where important questions get answered. To quote "The Jew":
"This is no AskJeeves...Jeeves is actually my bitch. I've got a tailored answer for every question. You heard me...I know my sh*t.
Try me...ask me anything. Just make sure it has nothing to do with Math or Religion.
I'll have a response e-mailed to you within 24 hours.
- The Jew"
So, Prelle's question and "The Jew's" response are both currently pasted right on the front of thejewknew.com, but I'll still list them here. I had to edit it a bit, even for TMRB:
Dear Jew: One of my best friends is getting married and I am the best man. Of course, I'm automatically hit with the responsibility of planning the bachelor party. Vegas, right? Of course, Vegas. Only problem is his fiance will not allow him to go. Last time I checked if you are a grown man you shouldnt have to listen when someone tells you what do. I had the whole thing planned out and now everyone one of our friends thinks this guy is a joke, including me. How do we tell him he doesnt have to listen to her? How do we tell him that if he listens to her now shell be telling him what to do until they get divorced? This guy has pulled a complete 180 from the guy we went to college with which wast that long ago? How do we get the old guy back?
**Response**
Your friend is pussy whipped. He’s getting married for f*cks sake. The guy you went to college with is gone…You heard me…GONE. There is no getting this guy back. In fact, your friendship is probably already in jeopardy. The wife has probably started to “phase out” his college buddies in lieu of couples…F*CK THAT.
Here’s what to do. Tell the wife…not your buddy…that you respect her decision and that you’re working on a contingency plan.
Here’s the plan:
Have all your buddies book flights to Cabo San Lucas and get everyone to pitch for a flight for the groom.
Tell the wife after the trip has been booked that instead of partying like animals for an entire weekend, you’ve decided do a more relaxing bachelor party to Cabo for some fishing and golf. Tell her the arrangements have already been made and airfare has been booked. She’ll be pissed, but the damage has been done.
Depending on the # of guys in your party, Stay at the ME (If less than 10) or book a house through:
www.Cabovillas.com
Get a house in Pedrigal…on the hill overlooking downtown. These guys will take good care of you and have a great inventory of sick houses/villas. You can pull chicks back to the house and you don’t have to worry about being too loud and getting kicked out. Cabo has a great pool scene and plenty of hot babies.
At the wedding…your speech needs to call the bitch out. Then tell her that you hate fishing and that you suck at golf.
Good luck. Bring your own blow…
The Jew
www.thejewknew.com
So "The Jew" gave us a possibility, Chase gave us some possibilities, and, of course, we could just go to Vegas. What do you think of our options? Scroll down to Vote below:
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