The Walker, and other people at the office who drive me bananas

There is an old, weird dude who works in my office.

You know the type; seems perfectly nice, decent worker - but he just has that weird vibe about him and he does these odd, idiosyncratic things that make you want to hate him.

Well, this afternoon a new wrinkle was added to my growing case against this guy: HE'S A WALKER!

If you work at any mostly sedentary office job, you're familiar with the group of people to whom I refer. These are the older, out of shape employees - who range from slightly overweight to morbidly obese - who spend their lunch breaks on "walks" to stay active and presumably drop the pounds.

They are also the same people who believe this walk entitles them to the extra bag of BBQ Fritos that didn't get eaten at a lunch meeting in one of the conference rooms. Look here jackass, either get serious about losing the thunder thighs or just admit that you're fine with being fat - stop the charade, cause it's pissing me off.

Anyway, normally I can somewhat deal with the walkers because I don't have to see them partake in said walking. But today it was raining out, so Old Weird Dude has spent his entire frigging lunch break doing laps around a group of cubicles - AND I'VE REACHED THE TIPPING POINT!!! I swear to all things holy that I'm tripping his turtle-necked, mustachioed ass on the next pass and then beating him to death with an industrial printer cartridge - SO HELP ME GOD!

However, this has gotten me to thinking - who are the other people in the office that secretly drive a rational, free-thinking, normal human being completely ape-shit?

Now, for clarification, I'm not talking about the people who outwardly drive their normal co-workers insane - like the middle-aged lady who has a 45-minute conversation with her "girlfriend" at maximum volume every day at 2:25 that only ends because those in the cubes around her have elevated the volume of their ahem-ing and harrumphing to the point where it can no longer be ignored. What I'm focusing on here is those people who you are otherwise all right with, except for the fact that you secretly want to bash their skull in with a sledgehammer for some completely inane reason. If that explanation doesn't make sense to you, you haven't worked an office-job for long enough.

So far, I've got the walkers, the "hipster aunts" - you know, the middle-aged, childless women who will routinely try to connect with their younger co-workers and prove their hipness by recanting stories about the "cool" things they have accompanied their nieces and/or nephews to (note that there are NO "hipster uncles") -  and the otherwise not bad chick who wants to educate everyone about reducing their carbon footprints and saving the environment.

But I know there are more I'm leaving out, so I'm asking for your assistance. What you got?

Legendary beings and life's lessons learned...

My youngest brother will occasionally send his random thoughts and musings out to a collection of friends via mass text message. He calls these his "Fun Facts of the Day".

The thoughts are generally Confucius-esque revelations aimed at unraveling life's greatest mysteries. Why are SBD's so deadly? Is double-dipping acceptable if you took the last chip? Why don't they make toilets the same height as barstools? He generally writes these while sitting on the throne - you get the picture by now I'm sure.

This morning, he sent one that simply required re-posting here:

"FFOTD: The Fun Fact's list of some mythical creatures:


Bigfoot*
The Loch Ness Monster*
Dragons (fire-bretahing)*
Mermaids*
Sane Women
Unicorns*
Pokemon*


* = may actually be real"

 They learn so fast!

The Mixed Sixer (Part 1)

It’s been too long.

It always seems like it’s been too long. Too long since there have been regular posts in this space.

So, rather than a traditional post, what you’re about to read is a collection of things that have been on our minds lately here at the Lager, but we just never got around to posting about.

So, without further ado, The Lager presents the first installment of our new weekly series, The Mixed Sixer! So grab yourself an opener, kick back, and enjoy!

UPDATE: I GOT ABOUT HALFWAY THROUGH THE MIXED SIXER AND REALIZED I WAS ALREADY AT THE 1,200 WORD MARK. SINCE I’M NOT GOING TO SUBJECT YOU ALL TO A 2,400 WORD, SIMMONS-ESQUE DIATRIBE, THE SECOND HALF OF THE MIXED SIXER WILL BE POSTED ON THURSDAY OF THIS WEEK.

Sampling No. 1 – “I am no scientist, but... Porter”

            So, I was reading this Reuters article on Yahoo! News the other day – I know, I know, Yahoo! News?!? Look, it was sent to me by a friend.

Anyway, it was discussing the Large Hadron Collider on the French/Swiss border just outside of Geneva and how the scientists working on the project are hoping to discover Dark Matter during their experiments later this month – experiments which will feature the highest energy particle collisions ever achieved in such a setting.

(The article erroneously states the collisions will be “at the highest energy ever achieved,” without adding the clarifier “in a lab,” or something of that ilk. Might just be me, but I’m pretty sure these collisions have been achieved before. Maybe during the Big Bang, you know, if you subscribe to that theory. But I digress.)

First things first: did we learn nothing from Star Trek? Dark Matter = unstable world destroyer. Do we really want to be manufacturing the stuff in some underground lab on the Swiss/French border?

If it means France gets sucked into a black hole, never to return… then yes.

But in all seriousness, I get fairly nervous when I hear about physicists conducting these types of experiments. Physicists are crazy. Don’t think so? Well, how about we examine a quote from the guy in charge of the Collider project then, Dr. Rolf-Dieter Heuer.

In the article, in a section discussing the researchers’ hope to replicate the Higgs boson – which, as far as I can tell, is the new “politically correct” name for what I have always heard referred to as “the God Particle” – Heuer is quoted as saying:

"We know everything about this particle. The only thing we don't know is if it exists."

Excuse me?!?

So, what Dieter is telling us, essentially, is that he and his fellow scientists understand all of the many intricacies concerning an imaginary particle that they made up. Well, I should hope so!

How can you possibly know “everything” about anything if you cannot first verify whether or not that thing EVEN EXISTS!!!

Maybe this is why I cannot be a scientist. Or, maybe this is why our friend Dieter should not be a scientist. I’ll leave that call up to you, the reader.

Sampling No. 2 – “Winter White Ale”

            Why is Shaun White’s publicity team trying to make people hate him?

Here’s what I learned about Shaun during the Vancouver Games this February:

Shaun White is an absolutely incredible athlete who can do things in his sport that no one has ever dreamed of, let alone had the balls to risk life and limb trying.

He’s also bright, witty and, most importantly, humble, and all my previous animosity toward him was completely unwarranted and simply based on the fact that he was highly successful at an extremely young age and came off as, likely just because of the long red hair and the fact that he participates in the X Games, a punk.

How did I learn this?

Through watching his many interviews with Bob Costas, Stephen Colbert, or whoever he happened to be talking to on whichever particular night.

Through watching his reaction at the top of the pipe after learning that his first run’s score was good for gold, and then hearing him state his desire to ride down the middle of the pipe on his just-for-show second run with his arms up rather than showboat with an unnecessary second run of monster tricks (though, I’m glad his coach convinced him otherwise after seeing the ridiculous corked-alley-mctwist-10,000 or whatever it is you want to call what he did at the bottom of that pipe – I’ll stick with “Unbelievable”).

In fact, after the Vancouver Games yours truly became like a prophet, spreading the good word to all the Shaun White haters who still assumed he was a punk because they had missed all of what I saw during the Olympics – choosing to change the channel anytime Shaun came on, because like me once, they had an unwarranted bias against him.

And then I saw the latest Rolling Stone cover.

Which jackass on his staff allowed Shaun to go shirtless, wearing a pair of blue jeans apparently made out of the American flag, while lighting a snowboard on fire and giving the Devil’s horns, on the cover of Rolling Stone? I get that it’s “Rolling Stone” – the desperately-trying-to-still-be-edgy-even-though-we’re-mainstream-pop magazine – but c’mon!!! This guy just gained a whole mess of fans in Vancouver because he showed us he was not, in fact, a cocky, redheaded, punk, and the first thing you let him do after the games is dress up like a cocky, redheaded, punk on the cover of a major magazine?

Shaun, take my advice; gather all the people responsible for the upkeep and marketing of The Shaun White brand into one big room… and fire all their asses. Then go find yourself the people who made Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods – who are by many accounts two of the cockiest, most egotistical, punks to have ever played their respective sports – into family friendly household names. And hire them.

Trust me on this one.

Sampling No. 3 – “The best day of the year Bock”

            I feel bad for people who live in climates where it’s warm year round.

San Diego, Miami, Phoenix… residents of warm-weather cities will never have the delight of experiencing true happiness. They’ll never know pure ecstasy; real, honest-to-goodness, uncontrollable joy.

People who live in Chicago, Boston, Minneapolis, New York and Cleveland are nodding right now, because they know exactly what I’m talking about.

This feeling only comes once a year, usually sometime in mid-March or early April, manifesting on the first 50+ degree day of the spring.

Bill Simmons has written about this before – he calls it “Halter-top Day”, named for the young women who can be seen walking around any cold-weather city or town wearing semi-revealing blouses for the first time since late September. It’s a phenomenon that can only take place in cold-weather climates, and it just so happened to take place here in Boston this past weekend.

Literally anything can happen to me on the first warm, sunny day of the spring, and it’s just not going to phase me. Girlfriend or wife leaves me for another guy? Big deal. Dog dies? No problem. Car breaks down? I wanted to walk anyway. Pats, Celts, Sox and Bruins all decide to pack it in and move to either New York City or L.A.? Good riddance.

Nothing can shake me out of my good mood on the best day of the year. Why? Because I can roll down my car windows again while I’m driving and pump up my stereo.

Because when I jump up to go outside and get the paper in the morning, I can toss on my old Foo Fighters t-shirt instead of a thermal, down-feather, 178-pound, Gortex jacket.

Because for the first time since the previous October I can feel the warmth of the sun beaming down onto my pale, sun-starved skin.

Nope. Nothing can put me into a bad mood on that day, no matter how horrendous said thing may be. And that feeling doesn’t happen without the preceding four to five months of sunless, cold, wet, grey, snowy hell.

So, stick that in your pipe and smoke it San Diego.

………………… more to come on Thursday.

You're so vain, you probably think this post is about you....

Well, this is a rare treat.

Just three days after handing the “Ass-Clown of the Year” award to d-bag Chris Surette – whose “Walk of Shame” column is currently being specially printed onto 20 rolls of toilet paper for use in my apartment building’s public bathroom – I am blessed with the honor of handing out yet another prestigious award:

Congratulations Bill Belichick, you’re this year’s recipient of “The Arrogant Bone-headed Call of the Year Award.”

And to think, I thought it was going to Rick Pitino* …

The only possible way you can explain Belichick’s decision to go for it on 4th and 2 from his own 28 while leading by 6 last night is pure and unadulterated arrogance. Even Andy Reid knows you punt that ball and trust your defense to hold the opposition to a field goal in that situation!!!

(Though apparently Reid does not know you go for it on 4th and 1 from the opposition 1-yard line when trailing by two scores in the second quarter**.)

For anyone who might have packed it in and gone to bed after the Pats scored on the opening drive of the fourth quarter, putting them up 31-14, here’s a quick recap of what happened in the final 12:00 minutes of play:

• Peyton drives 79-yards and hits Pierre Garcon on a 29-yard touchdown strike when Leigh “Toast” Bodden bites on the pump fake.

• Pats fail to do anything with the ball on their next possession and punt.

• Peyton throws an interception on the first play of the Colts next possession. Pats drive 51-yards for a Gostkowski FG, putting them ahead 34-21 and seemingly sealing the victory with 4:12 remaining in the game.

• Peyton leads another 79-yard touchdown drive – greatly aided by a horrendous pass interference call on Pats DB Darius Butler – scoring in just 1:23 to put the Colts within 6 with 2:23 left to play.

That’s when it happened… when Belichick inexplicably morphed into “Reid 2.0: Bigger, Bolder, Dumber.”

The Pat’s got the ball back on their own 20 after a touchback on the Pat McAfee kickoff, and before even running the first play of the drive Brady was forced to burn a timeout***.

THE FIRST PLAY OF THE DRIVE!!!

How do you take the field on the first play of a drive without knowing which play you’re going to run and which plays you can audible to depending on where the defense lines up?

So, now the Pats run their first play with only one timeout remaining, getting just under a yard on a Kevin Faulk run up the gut. Indy calls its first timeout. Brady completes an 8-yard pass to Wes Welker on second down, but he’s still 2-yards shy of the 1st down. Indy calls its second timeout. Brady tosses a short pass to Welker on 3rd down that falls incomplete. The clock stops because of the incomplete pass.

The play clock starts to tic, and the Pats face a 4th and 2 from their own 28. Belichick has roughly 15-seconds to decide whether to punt, go for it, or line up and try to draw the defense offsides and then call his remaining timeout and punt. Those are your three options as a coach in this situation.

INSTEAD of doing any of those things, Belichick calls his third and final timeout without even having his offense line up and try to draw the Colts offsides!!!

Why?!? Why Bill?!? WHY?

This is about as classic Andy Reid as it gets – indecisive play calling, squandering timeouts, just overall poor clock management.

Then, it happens. The Patriots offense returns to the field and lines up for the snap as the following conversation takes place in living rooms across New England:

Person A: What is he doing? Are they going for it?

Person B: They can’t be. They’re on their own 28. You can’t give the ball back to Manning inside the 30 with this much time left and expect him not to score. They must be trying to see if they can draw them offsides then they’ll punt.

Person A: They just used their last timeout though, they can’t make the switch. They’re going for it.

Person B: (Nervously in a low tone) They can’t be.

Person A: They are.

Person B: (Silence)…… I like it! I like the call!!! Let’s go!!!

Barack was right, the human disposition toward optimism and hope when facing seemingly insurmountable odds certainly is audacious.

There is 2:08 remaining in the game at this point. If you have a good punter – and the Patriots have a fantastic one in Chris Hanson – you have him kick it high here in order to bring the clock down to the two-minute warning. So then, you potentially have Peyton getting the ball on his own 25-40 yard-line with 2:00 minutes left and only 1 timeout.

Dangerous? Absolutely. Peyton might be one of the most dangerous quarterbacks in the game in that situation. But when the alternative is giving him the ball on your 28 with 1 timeout and the two-minute warning???

Yes, I’m aware there was another scenario in play; the one where the Pats make the first down, run out the clock, Peyton stays on the sidelines and Belichick is heralded as a “genius” once again for his gutsy play-calling. But therein lies my point.

Belichick was well aware of everything I just broke down in the previous paragraphs when he made the decision to go for it on fourth down.

He knew the potential consequences of his decision, and rather than make the simple call, the call to punt the ball, the call that the majority of coaches in the NFL would have made under the same circumstances and might have given HIS TEAM its best chance to win, he chose to make the riskier call with the potential to make HIM look like genius.

In an unapologetic display of arrogance, Belichick chose the chance for individual glory over the potential for shared victory.

If the Patriots punt the ball and manage to stop Manning and earn a win, the story in today’s headlines reads “Patriot’s 4th QTR defensive stand saves victory.”

But, if the Patriots make that first down? If Kevin Faulk doesn’t bobble the ball and gets his forward progress awarded? If Belichick had saved that one last timeout and challenged the forward progress? If the Patriots somehow get that first down, then the story in today’s headlines reads “Belichick’s gutsy call seals victory.”

Bill Belichick decided to turn 2:08 of clock into a one play game that was all about him on Sunday night, and that’s why on Monday morning he’s the proud recipient of 2009’s Arrogant Bone-headed Call of the Year Award.

Congrats Bill. Make sure you talk with Chris Surette at the after-party, he might have some pointers on how you can still pick up chicks now that you’re no longer a football genius.

___________________________________________________
*You know, for the whole get woman pregnant, force her to abort, convince assistant to marry her and pay them to keep quiet thing, Allegedly.

**See Philadelphia Eagles at San Diego Chargers, Nov. 15, 2009. Reid elected to kick a FG in this spot, as well as again in the 3rd quarter when facing a 4th and 1 from the Chargers 7-yard line. The Eagles lost by 8 points. For those of you lacking in the math department, the point differential between a FG and TD (plus PAT) is 4. The difference between the two FGs kicked on 4th and 1 instead of the TDs that could have been scored had Reid elected to go for it? 8 points.

***Now might be a good time for an NFL Replay Challenge Semantics refresher. In order to initiate a coach’s challenge in the NFL, you must have at least one time out remaining. This is because the way a coach is penalized for an incorrect challenge is via the loss of a timeout. If you could still challenge without a timeout, then what’s to prevent a coach from challenging every play after he’s burned his final timeout, he’s got nothing to lose, right? Keep this in mind as we continue.

A new theory from Cunn...

Since the Dawn of Time, man has been searching for the answers to the great mysteries of the universe.

Countless philosophers, thinkers, sages and priests have pondered the answers to these pivotal questions regarding human existence: Why are we here? Is there a God? What lies beyond our earthly plane?

Well, today, one of those questions has finally been answered, by none other than the greatest thinker of our time – the man who fought back at establishment by stealing sandwiches from the cafeteria at a Massachusetts State University – my good friend Cunn.

The sheer genius of this humble modern philosopher has never shone as brightly as it does in the below paragraphs, which he emailed me just last night. In these lines Cunn concisely tackles one of these great questions that has plagued mankind for centuries: Why do hot chicks date complete asswipes?

So without further ado, I give you in all his unfiltered glory, guest contributor to The Boston Lager, The man, The myth, The legend… The Cunnisher.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The D-Bag Dilemma
By Cunn

This may be the most important email I ever write to you.

I have a theory that challenges one of man's biggest mysteries....The girl dating the D-bag.

“…In humans, shyness (also called diffidence) is a social psychology term used to describe the feeling of apprehension, lack of confidence, or awkwardness experienced when a person is in proximity to, approaching, or being approached by other people, especially in new situations or with unfamiliar people…” (Wikipedia).

The phenomenon that is the D-bag that always gets the hot girl has long plagued and frustrated the regular "good" guy.

This mystery is typically expressed in the question "why do girls love to date assholes?"

We have all been there; you fall for that cute girl and you get friendly, but this asshole comes in effortlessly and gets her. While going out with her, he continuously treats her like shit, but she will not leave.

I believe I have figured out why this is so.

First, the Players:

John: The good guy, who does all the things a girl thinks are "sweet".

Giada: The girl of your dreams who you would do anything to be with; also a chef on the food network with an incredible rack....of ribs.

Roger: Simply described as the D-bag. The guy who breathes arrogance and shits ego. Public Enemy #1.

Now, lets breakdown each person a little more.

John of course is the shy one, who means nothing but good things for Giada. He does the little things that makes her say things like, "I don't know how you don't have a girlfriend," even though she is single (c*nt).

The small surprises, the occasional flowers, and the great relationship with her friends and possibly family – John is the guy that belongs with her, but he isn’t with her.

Giada is a little more complicated. To understand why, you have to look at her past.

A young teen Giada is where everything evolves from. Thanks to the sex driven society that the media has created, Giada feels the need to be, look, and feel sexy. Due to the immaturity of the teen years, Giada cannot feel like she is ever on the highest level of beauty. John thinks she is, but is so afraid to say the wrong thing and screw things up, so he never really tells her how attracted he is to her (flirting). Giada is so desperate to feel sexy that she cannot confide in John because he cannot tell her what she strives to hear.

Enter the D-bag.

Roger, being fearless due to his lack of respect for females in general, has no problem telling Giada she is hot and that he would definitely hook up with her. It now begins.

Giada, though not necessarily physically attracted to Roger, feels that she should be with him because he reinforces what she believes she should be. He reinforces those magazines that tell her what a guy is "really" thinking when he looks at a girl.

Meanwhile, John sits back wondering what he did wrong and what Roger did right to bring this situation about.

This is a happening that is nearly unstoppable; a force of nature, if you will. Giada is now suffering from Stage 5 Douchitis.* (see full definition below)

There are good things and bad things that come with Douchitis. Unfortunately there is no cure and no matter what D-bag Roger does, Giada will always forgive him.

Also, this common disease has 5 stages, which decline in severity from ages 17-21. The girl will seek Roger-like guys until about the age of 21, sometimes 22, because that’s all she has known.

By 21 or 22 the girl has matured and looked back on the guys she has dated and begun to wonder why she ever dated them. This is also an age where the female wants to have a serious relationship so she can get married in her mid 20's, which is the typical age for such a life event.

By this time, John has gained confidence because Giada-like girls have begun to like him. His shyness goes away and confidence comes to the surface.

This now leaves Roger banging a 200-pound white chick who thinks she's black in his pimped out 1990 Honda Accord at Hampton Beach.

So, nice guys finish last? I disagree.

They do for a period of time, but more times then not they at least have the opportunity to prevail in the end.

There may not have been a better theory on this subject that has come before this. I may have uncovered the answer to a mystery that has been mind-boggling to Johns for decades.

*Stage 5 Douchitis is a disease that effects the functioning of a female’s brain. She begins to find trashy, rude, egotistical guys attractive because they tell her she is hot and want to bang her.