One of my more enjoyable diversions...

BT is in the news!

"It sends out a very positive message if someone like BT is getting into this business".

Rwrrarrrr!

The Tigers defeated the Indians last night 9-7. I know what you're thinking: who gives a flying WHOOPSIE! Not I. But according to ESPN, "[w]ith a five-run first inning, Detroit became the first team in 115 years to score at least five runs in the first at-bat of three straight games, and the Tigers held on for a 9-7 win over the Cleveland Indians."

Holy WHOOPSIE!

Now, being a Brewers fan, I know I'm unaccustomed to watching great baseball, but five runs in the first inning of three straight games--all in the first at-bat?!

I think Detroit is officially my favorite team now. Hell, I'd WHOOPSIE a brick if Rickie Weeks, the Brewers' leadoff man, tallied a lowly two runs to start a game. Is that so much to ask? And I wouldn't get greedy and ask him to do it three times in a row. Just once. C'mon, Rickie, ya sack of WHOOPSIE. A two-run shot to lead off the game. You WHOOPSIEdamn motherWHOOPSer.

He'd never WHOOPSing do that.

Ergo, the Detroit Tigers are now my favorite baseball team.

Go Tigers!!

p.s. WHOOSPIE you, Brewers. You've broken my heart one too many times. WHOOPSIE!!!!

Self Clown Love

The Ass Clowns convened last night for a little Essen Haus fun. This morning, I awoke with scratches on my shoulder, one of my pasty hands, my face, and chest. And those are just the ones I can see.

Make that a lot of Essen Haus fun.

As you might have guessed, most of these scratches resulted from a hundred pound woman bodyslamming me to the ground. I admit curiosity over the one across my chest. Did I mention my socks, shoes, shirt, and shorts were all downstairs in the livingroom this morning, despite the fact I slept upstairs in my bed? Apparently I just couldn't wait to take it all off and have my way with myself.

(I came at the same time.)

Anyway, on a completely different subject, I swear, please excuse me; it's time to tan some hands!

BT 2.0

Doing well on the pizza strike. I'm too lazy to check how long it's been, but I'm on week two now. Today, endeavoring to branch out with my eating habits, I tried to make Sloppy Joes for the first time since learning the recipe from my sister-in-law, Elin, a couple months ago.

LET'S GET SLOPPY!

Despite what you may think, you can indeed make sloppy joes too sloppy.

That, however, did not stop me from devouring six of them over a two hour span.

Sloppy but delicious.

So much for no pizza improving my diet. Guilty, I ran three miles on the trusty treadmill (which squeaks so loudly I can hear it despite listening to my iPod at full blast with earbuds). Damn it felt nice to exercise with the eye of the tiger again.

BT 2.0 is on the way.

Bigger, faster, blacker, better.

You might be wondering if "blacker" above was an attempt at comedy, but you'd be wrong--dead wrong. Laura chided me for having "pasty" hands at Frisbee yesterday. I must say congratulations, Laura, for taking my self-esteem down a peg or three. Not everyone can have sexy golden hand skin like you. It's my only physical imperfection. Sue me.

Sufficed to say, tomorrow I won't be wearing golf gloves on the links.

Day 2: Pizza Strike

Can I go THIRTY days without having pizza? That is the challenge.

After nearly ordering a pizza from Papa John's this afternoon for no good reason, after nearly adding 3000 calories to my day's intake TWO HOURS BEFORE I was set to have a free dinner at TGI Friday's, I decided enough was enough. (Note: instead of eating, I lifted weights and ran a mile.)

It's a scientific fact: while writing this article, I have already craved a Tombstone.

Frankly, I'll be shocked if I last a week. The only chance I have is opening up this challenge to the public so I'll be humiliated when I fail, probably after three days. Have I mentioned it's day two? But anyway, I figure the threat of humiliation is the only source of motivation powerful enough to give me a shot at this.

As Captain Picard said in Star Trek: First Contact, "The line must be drawn here!"

While the Borg rank slightly higher on the scale of malevolence, pizza is a close second.

Another scientific fact: I have, during the writing of this article, thought of not publishing this article and giving up my challenge. Dead serious.

Ugh. I'm tired. Sleepy time.

Excuse me, I'd like to ass you a few questions

Dick Assman

AWOL

My fans have been itching for more. Unfortunately, I've been too busy dreaming up million dollar ideas. Oh, and also helping my bro, Brady, out with his burgeoning rap career. If anyone knows anything about hand gestures, rhyming, or has the 411 about upcoming rap battles, let Brady know!

I do have several hilarious articles forthcoming, my favorite about Nich Lachey, so keep an eye out, yo! Also, Jim gave me plenty of blogging fodder this evening at the Dane, after a pitcher or three of beer. Stay tuned for a story of a man who nearly accidentally stabbed himself to death, in the face, with a fork. "Oh God, that one got me in the eye!" Based on a true story, y'all. I shit you not.

Peace out, and, as Brady would say, word to your mother.