Brotherly Love?

          This blog has been up and running for months now and we're approaching 100 posts. Normally I leave the sports talk to Boyd because he knows more about sports than I do. Not this time.

          The Philadelphia Eagles are my favorite team. I was born in Philadelphia before moving to the Poconos when I was 7. I love our fans and I love how other people hate us for being passionate about football. I love cheese steaks and beer and of course brotherly love. I love the Liberty Bell and that sexy crack she's always showing off. I love water (wooder) and bagels (begels). If you still don't get it, I love Philly.

           There is one thing I can't stand though. Little punks who think they deserve millions of dollars because they can run fast. I'm talking about DeSean Jackson. This guy's contract is up at the end of this season. I would think he would be trying to prove himself so he can get the money he deserves. That's what I would do. I would play as hard as I can and catch as many touchdowns as possible. That way, either the Eagles will pay me big to stay, or another team will pay me big to leave. That's just me though, I don't have a false sense of entitlement. This mother fucker thinks he should just be given the money because of who he is. That my friends, is bullshit!

           He oversleeps and misses a special teams meeting, he's the punt returner, and gets benched for a critical game against Arizona. We lost. He dropped two touchdown passes against the Patriots because he was afraid of getting hit. We lost. He acted like a little baby and wouldn't talk to his teammates against Seattle. We lost. I know there are other factors that go into our losing record. Maybe an offensive line coach trying to coach a defense isn't a great idea. We're tackling like bunch of Bernie Fine's ball boys if you ask me. But what do I know, I'm not a professional. The point is DeSean Jackson is a pussy and I hope he gets cut at the end of the year.

           Why do we always have to have problem receivers? T.O., as great as he was, really stirred shit up when he was in Philly. Now we have to deal with DeSean's oversized ego. I know he's fast and can make things happen on special teams. But why can't he just play with passion and try to earn his money instead of expecting it? I hate these athletes that turn into little bitches when they don't get what they want. It's so frustrating. If I went into work, sat there and demanded more money before I started giving a fuck again, I would get FIRED! On the spot, no questions asked. Why is this any different?

            All professional sports contracts should have a cry-baby clause. It would state: If you start acting like a little school girl instead of the grown ass man that we signed, you will be fired on the spot. BOOM, problem solved. You're welcome. Unfortunately that will never happen because this whole country is turning into a bunch of pussies that expect to be given everything. I'll save that for another post. Let me sum this up.

             I love Philly and always will. I love every team Philly has and will always root for them. I hate, and I use the word hate with every amount of hatred that can go along with it, professional athletes that feel entitled to millions of dollars for doing what they are supposed to do. Then they act like a 6 year old who can't have money for the ice cream truck when they don't get ridiculous contracts. Shut up and PLAY! You know who doesn't feel entitled to anything? The homeless lady behind the Shop-N-Go I'm going to get a Hand-job for a Ham Sandwich from tonight. That's something I can appreciate.

You Can't Avoid Boyd - Thanksgiving Edition

Marcus Boyd’s Excellent Adventure: Thanksgiving Edition

In my last installment of this disaster of a theme, I’m on the road to the Poconos to celebrate Thanksgiving with family and friends. A road trip to the Poconos is worthy of a write-up since I only go home three times a year (Thanksgiving, Christmas, & some point in the spring/summer). In comparison, I have been to Taco Bell three times in the past five weeks.

Thanksgiving Eve: This unofficial holiday is the biggest bar night of the year, according to the experts. I guess people view this as a day to get blackout drunk with old friends (or what I call “any weekend”) and try to hook up with the girl that got a lot hotter since you graduated high school years ago. Since I am a conformist, I joined my friends for an expected night of debauchery. Since our hometown is boring as shit, we head out to a bar scene by a local college. It’s not too bad, but the best part of it is the hotel room we crash in. It is right above a bar, and pretty cheap. It also allows you to go to two of the three main bars in the area without stepping outside. After an aggressive pre-game (our friends debated what our fantasy team names would have been if we were in a league on September 12^th, 2001), we just slowly killed our livers. The only worthwhile story is how my new catchphrase started a chick fight. An inebriated lady came up as my friends were ordering bear fights and asked me if I could help her send a text message from her phone. Showing the idiot how to do so from her phone, she then demanded I text her friend how to get to the bar. Since I am not a fan of being told what to do, I decided to text the following directions: Fuck your dick. I realize my catchphrase is offensive, but it conveys the necessary sentiment when used appropriately. Upon my FYD message, I got out before the drunkard noticed. As she was holding up her phone and stumbling, my friend noticed the message and realized she got Boyded. As he was laughing at her, I guess she saw another white trash girl and decided to take her frustrations out on this girl’s face. Several slaps later, she got the boot and I laughed for 27 straight minutes.

Thanksgiving: What a great day for gluttony. All you do is hang out with family, eat throughout the day, and watch football. Since most of my family stayed in New York/New Jersey, my parents and I had a quiet day together. For the first time in a decade, the Lions were going to play a meaningful early game. The Lions and Cowboys play every year on Thanksgiving as part of their tradition (both owners at the time realized it was an easy way to make money) and recently, the NFL added a random night game. The Lions have been dreadful for years, but finally built a contender. With a matchup against the undefeated Packers scheduled, people were awaiting this game for weeks. It was competitive until Ndamukong Suh decided to use someone’s arm as a floor mat and then Green Bay shit all over Detroit. Luckily, the Cowboys/Dolphins game was more competitive. The good thing about the Thanksgiving games is the retarded trophy they hand out after each game. FOX has been handing out the Galloping Gobbler for years. I can’t imagine Emmitt Smith’s mantle featuring the Gobbler among his many legitimate awards. CBS’ Phil Simms hands out the All-Iron Award, complete with a skillet of blackberry cobbler made by Simms’ mom. I miss the days when John Madden handed out turkey legs to his MVPs from his mutant eight-legged turkey. Apparently the night game hands out some sort of pie to the player of the game, but I didn’t know that since I pass out by halftime of the night game. Since the Ravens suffocated the 49ers this year, it helped me ease into the food-induced coma.

 

Speaking of food, a person doesn’t typically eat turkey, stuffing, cranberries, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, or pumpkin pie, much less gorge on these items, expect for Thanksgiving. Two quick notes about the food: First, since deep frying a turkey is becoming more common, I love that more media outlets teach you the do’s and don’ts of deep frying the turkey. Mainly the “Don’t deep fry the turkey indoors” note. Seriously, if you can’t figure out that you should deep fry many gallons of grease at 325 degrees Fahrenheit outdoors, please let me know so I can hit you in the head with a tack hammer. Second, green bean casserole fools me every year. I think of the green bean as I think of an ugly bang sack from back in the day. I only wanted to be around either if times were desperate. Then, I see the green bean/bang sack all dressed up (cream of mushroom soup & fried onions/make-up & jacked up cleavage) after a long hiatus and think its all good. WRONG! It still sucks and you have nothing but regret the next day.

Black Friday: I will never get this day. Great sales starting at the butt crack of dawn and people instinctively flock to the stores like the salmon of Capistrano. I don’t see the deals as being that special, but I am not shopping savvy. In the Poconos, I was reading about a guy who was camping at a store Tuesday afternoon to shop at Thursday midnight. He was camping over 60 hours to save. That is insane. I hope he got what he wanted, but if not, whatever, fuck him. Otherwise, there are usually some decent sports on. College football usually has some good rivalry games. This year featured LSU take on Arkansas in a game with championship implications. It was a good game until LSU remembered it was good and destroyed the Razorbacks. Also, the NHL is trying to start a new tradition by playing a game on network TV. This year featured the Red Wings beating the Bruins in a shootout. I hope this tradition sticks.

Thanksgiving Weekend: Leftovers and two nights of blacking out. I may have slept in a trunk on Friday night. Enough said.

That brings you to end of my traveling adventure. There was laughter, there was tears, that was even some vomit. I hope you all enjoyed it. If not, fuck your dick

                -Written by Marcus Boyd

You Can't Avoid Boyd - Grab a Cold One & Suck It Off Edition

Marcus Boyd’s Excellent Adventure: The Grab a Cold One & Suck It Off Edition

This week’s latest edition features Oyster Riot XIVII at Old Ebbitt Grill in DC and my thoughts about some colleges that have been in the news lately (because even I can’t write 500 words about eating oysters.)

Old Ebbitt Grill is the oldest bar in DC, opening in 1856. President William McKinley lived there when he was in Congress and has been known as the drinking spot for several presidents throughout the years. It has moved a few times, but currently resides right by the Washington Monument. It’s pretty cool blacking out at the same bar where Teddy Roosevelt drunkenly brawled in. Old Ebbitt is also known for its seafood. Every year since 1994, they host Oyster Riot the weekend before Thanksgiving. You buy a ticket, and you get to eat all the oysters and drink all the wine you can in a three hour period. Typically, this event sells out within hours, but due to rising costs (Tickets went for $135 this year) and the downward economy (Thanks Obama), Oyster Riot did not sell out. Since $135 for me is five lost blackjack bets, I figured what the hell. It’s a known DC event, the girlfriend wanted to go, and you only live once.

The title of today’s blog references my friend Red Bear’s Vegas advice on how to eat an oyster (complete with using all five fingers to hold the oyster.) I should point out Red Bear was completely sober when he gave this advice, and everyone who heard this story thinks he described how to orally please a man. Blowjobs be damned, it was time to decimate oysters and wine. Anyone who thinks I didn’t eat over 100 oysters and slam at least 10 glasses of wine can stop being my friend immediately. The wine stations were empty and there were plenty of oysters on the half shell for Boyd and company. My only complaint was they shut off the wine service right away. Some ran out of wine altogether, but others re-corked their supply and got the fuck out. Also, boo to the lady who commandeered our stolen bottle of wine. I worked hard stealing that bottle, and she took it as soon as it was nabbed. What a c word. By the end of the night, it became apparent that not everyone was ready for this Riot. Out of my group of four girls and two guys, two people passed out on the Metro for over two hours, one person lost their apartment keys, and one person projectile vomited all over the floor of their bed room. Good times.

Onto the college scene, my condolences go out to Oklahoma State. Last Thursday, their women’s hoops coach and an assistant coach were among the four victims of a deadly airplane crash. This brought back memories of another plane crash that occurred in 2001, when ten men affiliated with the OSU basketball team died. While this is different than the Marshall plane crash in the 1970’s where the entire football team perished, I can’t imagine what it is like for this community to be dealing with these two tragedies within a decade.

I am not going to dive much into the Penn State scandal as the media has tackled every angle already (including on this blog), but I will talk about the one thing really grinding my gears. The football team and the students should not be penalized for this scandal. Several writers have suggested that Penn State should have forfeited the season as soon as the reports hit and others have suggested they turn down any bowl invitations. Why should the current team, who had nothing to do with any of this, pay for the actions of a few men, who have since been removed from the team? Even more ludicrous, I heard that some students are losing their internships and/or not being considered for jobs due to attending PSU. Last I checked Penn State was still a good academic institution. The actions of Jerry Sandusky and everyone involved should be dealt with accordingly, but this is getting ridiculous. I don’t view my PSU friends any differently, and neither should anyone else.

Last, Syracuse University was rocked by a child sex abuse scandal as two former ball boys claim longtime men’s basketball assistant coach, Bernie Fine, had molested them back in the day. The head coach, Jim Boeheim, is defending his coach, who has been placed on administrative leave, and claiming there was no cover-up (Specifically telling the media last week “I am no Joe Paterno”.) Obviously, no one knows if this actually occurred. However, the timing seems real fishy on this. The victims claim seeing the PSU story break allowed them to be comfortable enough to report the past alleged abuse. Also, one of the victims reported this to police and ESPN in 2005, but both dismissed this as there no evidence or corroboration to indicate these acts occurred. The school also investigated this matter at the time and came up with nothing. This only came to light when a second victim, the first victim’s stepbrother, came forward. I am not going to defend this coach yet, because you just don’t know. However, in light of both of these stories coming out this month, I hope this sheds light for the NCAA and schools all around to start monitoring coaches. All “South Park” jokes aside, this is a serious and disturbing trend. Even if Fine is cleared and this is a hoax, a serious problem has been addressed and needs to be corrected.

To end on a positive non-molesting note, Happy Thanksgiving! Enjoy the time with your family and loved ones.

              -Written by Marcus Boyd

The final installment of Marcus Boyd’s Excellent Adventure: Poconos & Thanksgiving

You Can't Avoid Boyd - Notre Dame vs. Maryland Edition

Marcus Boyd’s Excellent Adventure-Notre Dame edition

For this week’s installment, I assembled a crew and we went to the Notre Dame-Maryland game at FedEx Field on Saturday night. I had every reason to be nervous about this trip. I have been to a few ND games before and let’s just say we know how to have fun:

· Notre Dame @ Navy 2006 at M&T Bank Stadium 12 pm game (Baltimore, MD)- Every year, Notre Dame plays Navy. When Navy hosts the game, they usually hold it at a larger venue since Annapolis can only hold approximately 383 people. Stains and I grab tickets at the day before; start drinking at Slider’s Bar at 8:30 am and see Notre Dame get their 43^rd consecutive victory over Navy. We celebrate by losing each other in the streets of Baltimore for about an hour (this was our first time in the Baltimore area) before reuniting. Stains drives us home pants-less before we get home and both vomit.

· Notre Dame @ Navy 2008 at M&T Bank Stadium 12 pm game (Baltimore, MD)-They decide to play this game again in Baltimore. Navy won the year before, so they are all jacked up. I counter with a group of about 20 people, made up of various college friends and Virginia friends. We once again make Slider’s Bar our pre-game spot, but more aggressively. Long story short, two friends took separate cab rides home from Baltimore to northern VA (Approximately a $150 fare.) Disco Dan never made it to the stadium, while Stains never made it to his seat. My night ended seeing AC/DC in concert in DC, projectile vomiting in a shady restaurant in Chinatown, and being told Notre Dame barely survived their huge lead to win the game.

· Notre Dame @ Pittsburgh 2009 at Heinz Field 8 pm game (Pittsburgh, PA)- Because Pitt plays their home games at Heinz Field, they can’t serve alcohol. Only neutral site games can serve alcohol. Luckily with an 8 pm game, our group drinks all the alcohol needed to last a game. All I remember is a pretty awesome tailgate, and Notre Dame losing to Pitt. As I took my anger out on a soon-to-be-fired Charlie Weis to a random group of fans in a limo, our entire group of guys decided to lick the vest of the girl Hennessy was talking to. Within a week, everyone who licked the vest or hooked up with someone who licked the vest was severely sick.

· Notre Dame @ Navy 2010 at New Meadowlands Stadium (East Rutherford, NJ)- Navy finally decided we destroyed Baltimore enough to move it further up north. This doesn’t stop us as we travel up for the game. Any excitement I had for stepping foot into the New York Giants new state-of-the-art stadium is ruined as Navy destroys Notre Dame. It results in me leaving the game midway through the 3^rd quarter (a first for me) and shotgunning beers by myself. Stains and I decide to drink in NYC through the night/next morning.

In 2009, Notre Dame altered their schedule so they would play seven home games, four road games, and host one neutral site game. This year, they decided the neutral site would be FedEx Field. This should provide a fair opportunity for each school as Notre Dame can host a game away from South Bend and cater to their fans from the Mid-Atlantic region, while Maryland can play at a bigger venue close to their campus.

Knowing we had a good-sized group for this game, I decided we needed a bus to handle the madness. Since I have friends in low places, I had access to the Virginia Tech Tank Bus. If you have been to a VT game in the past or driven around Falls Church, you have seen this monstrosity (http://vttankbus.blogspot.com/). A few friends bought on old German bus, gutted it, furnished it with couches, and painted it in VT colors. For a small fee, they would drive us to the tailgate. Unfortunately and predictably, I got a call at noon saying the bus wasn’t working. After calling several people in the tailgate, many negative emotions played out, from sadness to anger. As the last rites were being performed for the bus, Professor Craiggers decided it wasn’t the bus’ time and resurrected it from the dead. It was a glorious comeback indeed. Despite being 30 minutes behind schedule, it was better than taking the Metro like a bunch of jerks.

Once on the bus, the beer flowed like wine. Some people were already drunk before getting on the bus. We did have an ace in the hole when it came to the tailgate: our friends’ parents. Otherwise, it would have been 12 drunk guys just drinking and having a shitty tailgate. However, the parents realized their maternal instincts and made sure we set up the tailgate quickly and effectively. In minutes, we had a pretty sweet tailgate setup. It would have been the best one there if a bunch of Notre Dame graduates didn’t hire a Hot 99.5 deejay for their tailgate right next to ours, which was pretty shocking. Experiencing alums of Notre Dame over the last few years, I realize they are all boring as shit. As much as I wanted to go to school there, I’d be afraid of how socially retarded I’d be if I spent four years in South Bend. It would be weird for Marcus Boyd, known hater of nerds, to be in a school full of nerds.

As for the game itself, I was surprised by two things. One, the lack of Maryland fans. While I was expecting more ND fans, it was shocking how little the Terrapin crowd was. You would have thought College Park was 1,000 miles away from FedEx, not ten miles. It was quite the Irish crowd, despite one fan wearing all Michigan gear and being a douche. Second, FedEx Field seemed not to care about this game. They barely checked tickets to get into the stadium, and didn’t care where you sat. Instead of sitting in the nosebleeds, Disco Dan and I sat 15 rows off the field, next to the Notre Dame band. It was enjoyable to hear one of the more famous college bands, but it was also disgusting, thinking about all the weird places those nerds have put their trumpets. I even got to sit in the front row near the end of the game, congratulating Harrison Smith for singlehandedly causing my disastrous 2010 Sun Bowl blackout.

When it was all said and done, I saw Notre Dame crush Maryland, while running their record to 3-2 when I watch them. Everyone had a good time, and everyone (including the bus) made it home safely. I was pretty drunk, but it was very tame compared to the last few Irish games I’ve attended. I hope the wildness returns for next year’s road trip: Ireland for the Notre Dame-Navy game.

           -Written by Marcus Boyd

Next week: Oyster Riot XI

Alright boys, hit the showers

           Some serious shit went down over the past couple days in the state I grew up in. Penn State University has been in the spot light and twitter/facebook have been blowing up. If you don't know why, please crawl out from under that rock and join the rest of society. Former assistant coach Jerry Sandusky has allegedly been raping young boys. Jerry Sandusky is the worst kind of human being and will get what he deserves. If it turns out that he is innocent; well he's still ugly, so fuck him. I won't give that man more than a paragraph of my time so let's get down to what people are really talking about.

           Joe Paterno is the head football coach, oops, was the head football coach and the face of the University for over 40 years. He's been with the University for over 60 years. From what I understand, some ginger, who is a 28 year old man, witnessed inappropriate acts in the shower of one of Penn State's facilities. As a grad student and apparently a huge pussy, he went home and told his father. His father informed him to tell Joe Paterno what he saw. Joe then told his boss, the athletic director, what he was told about an old man with a 10 year old boy in the shower. Then . . . nothing happened.

           First of all, child molestation is serious, gross, unacceptable and should never be overlooked. Mike McQueary should have acted the second he saw what was going on. He didn't and he'll get what he deserves as well. That's not the big story. I'm not sure anyone knows the big story.

           Obviously I have a huge problem with what happened and the fact that 8-10 little boys have had their innocence taken from them by a low-life scumbag (allegedly). I could write all day long about how sad this makes me and how infuriating this whole situation is. But I'd like to take this time to focus on what has been engulfing the media for the past 3 or 4 days.

          Joe Paterno had announced that he would retire at the end of the season. The board of directors for Penn State didn't like that decision and fired him immediately. That's what is causing the outrage. If you feel that Joe got what he deserved and should have been fired then we're on the same page. If you think he got a raw deal and should have been able to finish this season, then we're not on the same page and I have a problem with that.

          His legacy, his records, his reputation, all his contributions to the University; these are the reasons that everyone thinks he should have been able to finish his career on the field. However, they are the exact reasons he needed to be fired on the spot. He is the face of that University and needed to be the one to step up. I keep hearing over and over that he did what he was supposed to do, and told who he was supposed to tell. You know what else he did? NOTHING ELSE. He needed to be the one to follow up and make sure the police knew about this and would investigate. He did the bare the minimum. If this was a case of a coach stealing hot-pockets from the university store I would be satisfied with the bare minimum. We are talking about child abuse and rape!

           Maybe it's because I have a 10 year old nephew or because I have a level head but I am not satisfied with the Icon of a University not doing more. I'm also a little disappointed with how everyone is handling this. The riots on campus were ridiculous. Come on guys, get your shit together and look at the big picture. Here's a hypothetical situation I want you to consider:

               

                               "There have been allegations made that a former coach of Bloomsburg University was witnessed with a young boy in the shower doing inappropriate things. This was brought to the attention of the head football coach, who told the athletic director immediately. There was no follow up and the police were never involved. It has come to everyone's attention that this has been going on for quite some time and had the head football coach done more, a number of children could have been saved from the horrendous acts that occurred."

           How do you feel about that head coach? His name is irrelevant, how long he's been there is irrelevant, how much money he gave to Bloomsburg is irrelevant. So what's the difference between Joe Paterno's situation and this made up situation? Wait for it . . . NOTHING. There is no difference. The reason there is no difference is because it has nothing to do with football. We're talking about children being raped in the shower.

            Maybe this will help. Joe was told that there was a possibility that his buddy Jerry was raping boys in the shower. He told his boss but didn't follow up on it. I guess that's okay though, he did what he was supposed to do.

  

            Apparently as soon as you tell someone something it just disappears from your brain. Well if I knew that something like that might be happening, I wouldn't be able to sleep until I knew the truth. Joe Paterno is pretty old and probably just falls asleep after dinner at 4:30. I couldn't do that.

             I feel like I'm rambling a little bit so allow me to sum up my general message.

            This situation is terrible and I can't begin to know what this is doing to the victims. Again, it has nothing to do with football. Anyone, and I mean anyone, that knew about this needed to step up and make sure that justice was done. Especially the most well known person on campus. So yes, it's a shame his illustrious career ended this way. However, he brought on himself because he should have done more.

            I'd also like to reiterate that Jerry Sandusky is a real piece of trash and will get what he's got coming to him. Mike McQueary is a ginger pussy who should have done something. I wanted to focus on the main story and that was Joe Paterno. So I did. Now, I'll go into the kitchen and give myself a Ham Sandwich. 



You Can't Avoid Boyd - West Coast Edition

Marcus Boyd’s Excellent Adventure: West Coast Edition

The third installment features a bachelor party in Las Vegas and a wedding in San Diego. Let’s skip the dinner and hop right into the shower, Sandusky style (Heads up, if you don’t want to read Jerry Sandusky/Penn State jokes today, stop reading immediately.)

First off, fuck you Southwest Airlines. As awesome as waiving the checking fee for your first bag is, your open seating policy blows. People need structure when it comes to airline seating, not the freedom to choose based on your boarding position. Perhaps I could have enjoyed my five hour flight if I could get my drink on with Hennessy and Stains, instead of being isolated by a very drunk and very ugly trio of Maryland ladies. Even Hennessy wouldn’t put it in their Sanduskys, and that says a lot.

I needed this Vegas trip like Penn State needs a good PR firm: pretty fucking badly. Vegas is unlike any other city I have been to. It has enough activity for the family man, the drunkard, and the degenerate gambler. Luckily I am two of the three, so I was stoked. My first contact with a table game led me to the 28^th all-time leading scorer in NBA history, Tim Duncan. It was pretty surreal. Not because he is a celebrity (Not that I’m a Hollywood player, but I’ve seen a decent amount in my lifetime), but because he was appearing like I would: t-shirt, backpack, hanging out with his douchebag white friend, and playing on a $10 craps table. Sure, he was betting beyond $10 per play, but not by much. Either way, we all walked away up a good amount of money. Unfortunately, this would be the only time during the two day stay I’d be in the black. The one thing I hate about these trips is my unbelievable luck early in multiple day gambling excursions. Some of you are reading this and saying “Why don’t you just walk away when you are up?” These are the same people who only play slots if they go to a casino. I will not go into detail of my actual lost wagers, but I can be referred to as Victim #10.

Vegas isn’t just about gambling. It’s about hanging out with your friends (14 made the trip overall.) Two of the group outings that stand out are the group dinner and the Club Haze bottle service night. We went to a very nice dinner at Tender Steakhouse at the Luxor. We had a great time. Unfortunately, no one in the surrounding area did. We ruined the dinner of at least ten tables. Not everyone is a huge fan of 14 guys screaming the same four stories over and over again, throwing things at one another, and quoting TV shows and movies repeatedly (This trip was sponsored by “South Park” and “MacGruber”.) Then again, if you ain’t running with it, run from it, motherfucker. If the PSU scandal would have occurred at this point in our trip, we would have been asked to leave after some of the jokes we broke out on Saturday. Also, if you go to a steakhouse, unless you are a vegetarian, order a steak. Don’t order ravioli to prove how Italian you are. We already figured that out with the blowout and the flashy t-shirts. As for the bottle service, nothing is greater than buying a bottle for 10 times worth its value to show off to a bunch of people. We figured Club Haze would work since we had already donated a substantial amount of money at their casino, so why not continue with the charity. Luckily, our friend Sasha had worked in Vegas previously and knew what he was doing. It was my first actual experience with a person Reaganing as he was in the zone, getting us in, getting us a good rate, even getting us a new bottle on the house when two Asian ladies Hiroshimaed into our table. True to the real Reagan, he even became a drooling, incoherent corpse near the end of the night. When it was all said and done, we spent a lot of money to treat that city however we felt like. For me, it concluded with seeing the sun rise at Denny’s and a total of about four hours of sleep in Sin City.

With Vegas in our rear view mirror, we headed into sunny San Diego. I should say it’s normally sunny as it was 55 degrees and raining all day Friday. We traveled over 3,000 miles to get the same weather as they do in Pittsburgh. However, it was perfect weather to catch up on sleep and to continue abusing my liver with booze. Friday night involved the rehearsal dinner and the Gaslamp District, where we continued to be loud and obnoxious. Saturday, it involved all of us to dress nicely and try to shut the hell up for the ceremony. We did a good job with that, but continued with our debauchery afterwards. I am not going to go over all the wedding details as it went just like every wedding you have been to. However, I am going to offer the wedding photographer two tips of advice. First, don’t tell our group to take a gay picture with the groom if your definition of gay is silly. Instead, you got about eight pictures so gay, it would make Jerry Sandusky blush. Second, don’t tell us to circle around you as you lay down in the middle of the circle, as if you were a cookie or cracker. That’s pretty much a batting practice fastball and we don’t miss batting practice fastballs, we knock them out of the park.

Considering I’ve been drinking for ten years, I cannot recall another as destructive four day period as this trip out west. I am still not 100% recovered from it, realized how old as fuck I am becoming, and now have some friends who will probably never be the same. It could have been worse; I could have been facing 40 counts of molesting minors or been fired from my job.

              -Written by Marcus Boyd

Next week: The Notre Dame vs. Maryland experience, featuring Tank Bus

You Can't Avoid Boyd - White Halloween Edition

Marcus Boyd’s Excellent Adventure: White Halloween Edition

I’m writing this post earlier this week as I’ll be in Las Vegas/San Diego for most of this week. The second installment of this series will feature the “Nightmare on M Street” bar crawl in DC and Halloween. I know what you are thinking; “Boyd, you are writing about traveling, and one of your spots is Washington DC, a place ten minutes away from your house?” My response: whatever….fuck you. Let’s get to it:

Thumbs up for Halloween in general. There are few holidays we get to enjoy throughout our whole life. Halloween cracks this list. As a baby, your mom dresses you as something adorable and everyone loves it. As a kid, you get to go door-to-door, Willy Loman style, in your costume and strangers just give you candy (The only time it is acceptable to take a stranger’s candy.) As a young adult, you get fubar in a costume and interact with other drunk individuals. The sillier the costume, the better the results. Good times all around.

Thumbs down to this year’s weather. The early forecast for this past weekend’s festivities called for mid-40s and a chance of rain. I would have taken that in a heartbeat if I knew what was to come. Instead, it was flurrying most of the night. Snow flurries could have put a damper on the annual slutty costumefest. Factor in the snow that douched my hometown and it was as if God was trying to cock block all my friends.

Thumbs up to the slutty warriors. Neither rain, nor hail, nor snow, nor frigid conditions would stop these girls from getting their whore on. Sure, they may have covered themselves with jackets and hats on the streets, but once inside, their inhibitions went out the window. I don’t know what possesses a girl to be a nurse or cop with exposed jacked up cleavage, but who am I to solve this awesome mystery.

Thumbs down to this year’s costumes. I was expecting to see a lot of Lady Gaga and Charlie Sheen costumes. The Lady Gaga’s were pretty creative, but the Charlie Sheen’s were lacking. Most had a generic Indians jersey and hat, with an ironed on “Wild Thing” on the back. No tiger blood, no blow, no insane sayings, nothing creative. Come on people. I did not see one Casey Anthony outfit. Halloween isn’t just throwing on a wig. You are better than that. I went as a Smurf for God’s sakes (Papa Smurf to be exact, with the girlfriend as Smurfette.)

Thumbs up to the bar crawl. Lindy Promotions for the 12^th straight year has run this bar crawl in the midtown area. Despite the weather, it was a pretty good turnout. It started out slow, but the bars were packed by the end of the night. Some bars were more popular than others, so being a veteran of these bar crawls helps. For instance, you want to start out at the empty bars and begin to tie one on, and head to a popular bar in the middle of the night before it gets too crowded. If you wait too long, you’ll be standing in line forever. Kudos for “Bread & Brew” for once again making their infamous green jello shots with tequila. It tastes like pure liquor, but it gets you where you need to be for $1. $5 later, Papa Surf was where he needed to be.

Thumbs down to the bar crawl. There were some negatives to the bar crawl as well. Obviously, they couldn’t control the weather, but they can control the crowd. If I would have attended the event for the first time, I’d be angry that I couldn’t get into any good bar after 9:30 pm. Either limit the wristbands you sell or provide better detail. Also, the bar crawl included $2 Coors Lite. Really, you couldn’t get a different sponsor than Coors Lite?!? I’ll drink it if I had to, but very few people I know drink it voluntarily. If I am trying to get my crawl on, at least give me a Bud Light or a Miller Lite. Coors Lite and having sex on the beach have the same thing in common: it’s both fucking close to water. For $3, I could have had a Blue Moon, but that’s not a consumption beer. That’s a sipping beer. Also, “Recessions” could have done a better job not serving us skunked beer. All eight of the beers they served us were skunked to a degree. Granted, we drank them, but that’s because we are scumbags.

When it was all said and done, I survived my first White Halloween. The girlfriend and I had the best Smurfs costume on M Street as many people asked to take pictures with us. Even more impressive, I managed to wash off the blue face paint before passing out face first, per my usual Saturday night ritual. Face down, smurf up, that’s the way Boyd passes out on the weekend sonnnnnn.

-Written by Marcus Boyd

Next week: An extremely edited post about Las Vegas for a bachelor party and San Diego for a wedding.