Ad(unkin)d(onuts)iction

As I walked away from Dunkin Donuts today for the second time in 5 hours I realized something...I have a problem. I've struggled with plenty of vices throughout my renegade-teenage years, but only one has withstood the test of time. It's strange because I feel obligated to write about D&D, but no words could really do justice to what the joint has done for me, is doing for me, and will no doubt continue to do for me till the day my DD-diets puts me 6-feet under. (Wow that was an interesting sentence, kind of awkward...eh, oh well)







Whether it's a coffee(hot or iced depending on the mood and the season of course), a breakfast sammmmich, a donut(usually multiple), a muffin, or any other dessert item you can get away with eating for breakfast, Double Ds is perfection. I actually think that they put something in the air or in the ingredients of their items to keep you coming back. It's some sort of nicotine-like substance that just keeps your addiction strong. It's just unnatural how much I want to be in there. I love it when I snag a delectable something-or-other then see someone immediately after. They glance at the unmistakable orange and pink lettering and smell the air around me. "Mmmmm, you smell like Dunkin Donuts", the person always says as their eyes glaze over like a fresh batch of donuts arriving in its assigned seat on the rack classroom. I have a variation of responses that range from "Yeeeeeea duuude" to "Can't live without it", but who cares, I'm taking the emphasis off of where it really belongs, the stars of the show.





Sports fans often use the metaphor of a pitching rotation on a baseball team to classify types of things (like t-shirts, or tv shows). There are 5 starters that carry the bulk of the innings on the mound during the season, the "ace" being the go-to guy and the other 4 as key pieces to a strong rotation. Anyways, here is my present order

ACE (Go-to): Chocolate Frosted
Number 2: Vanilla Kreme
Number 3: Chocolate Glazed
Number 4: Bluberry Cake
Number 5: Kreme (like if a vanilla kreme and a chocolate frosted had a dough-baby)
Spot-Starter (Fill-in guy in the rotation if called for): Sour Creme (sounds nasty but the taste is quite the opposite)

Still, I can't understate the supporting characters that enhance the show. The Bagels, Muffins, Coffee Rolls, and Munchkins all do their part to ensure that whatever you're feeling on a given day is there and ready for your consumption.
And this whole production isn't just about getting your hunger satisfied. It stands for much more. The excitement you get checking out the selection at a local D&D, or the first sip of that hot coffee on a icy winter day, or the first bite of a Bagel or sandwich after a long night or before a brutal day ahead. Those uniquely delicious feelings are priceless.

And why is there a picture below of some quasi-celebrity babe, you ask? It's not her almost-recognizable status I'm drawing attention to. It's the fact that this picture is symbolic of my future wife, who will without question appreciate D&D. And D&D my friends, is a symbol of all that is both happy and yummy in the world. After all, you can't spell addiction without two D's!

MC Hammer's Spending Habits > Temple University

1) If school spirit were money I wouldn't just be broke, I'd have more debt than MC Hammer.
2) Saying I have not enjoyed my time at Temple would be like saying that MC Hammer made a couple small mistakes with his once-plentiful finances.
3) Saying that MC Hammer is a better artist than the complete frauds they are blasting from a loudspeaker propped on the wall of this Computer Lab would be like saying....ok you get the point. Or do you?






The point of this blog is not that MC Hammer still belongs in our daily conversation, it's that I hate Temple University. I have no pride in my school, and why should I? It'd be hard enough for me to find the will to live during the average semester at a respectable school, let alone one filled with idiots. Maybe I'm just stressed and angry right now. Or maybe I could spend the next few minutes bringing up my favorite reasons why Temple won't get a dime from me if (no, WHEN!!!) I make it big someday. I guess I'll just pick an arbitrary number and do this countdown-style. Hmm, how bout 8? Like "crazy eights"... Like 8 reasons why I am crazy for going to this piece of you-know-what institution. (Incidentally institution is a good word, cause that's where all the loonies, like myself, generally go)

7) The entire process of advising at this Penitentiary , and in general, finding someone who knows what they're talking about when you need some assistance in any aspect of the headache that is the College process.
WAIT WAIT WAIT WE HAVE A TIE FOR NUMBER 7 (And I SWEAR on my love of the Philadelphia Eagles this just happened)...we'll call it 7A. The girl sitting 5 seats away from me in this computer lab talking very audibly about how "it was too long and I was limping afterwards and lied to people and said I was walking funny cause I was tired" and also that "I lost my virginity to a guy who was right out of prison" I really couldn't make this stuff up if I tried...
You stay classy San Diego...

6) I have had numerous professors give the same grades to everyone in the class as long as they completed the assignment. This method contributes to lazy students remaining that way or getting worse, and simple annoys the living daylights out of the students who are putting in "A" level work into an assignment. Obviously, the only time this method can be used is with writing because there isn't one right way to craft an essay. Writing is my jam too, which is one reason this method is particularly aggravating to me.

5) The trigger for today's blogiful rant. I work part-time during semester at a Computer Lab, you know, the kind of place where people study during weeks like this one, midterm week. The event coordinators in the housing facility thought that in this massive building the best place to have a loud-ass dance thingamajigger was RIGHT NEXT TO THE MOST COMMONLY USED PLACE TO STUDY IN THE DAMN BUILDING!!! Great game-plan guys, just brilliant. And yes I am one of the people suffering from this tremendous, yet not unusual, oversight. 2 exams tomorrow...things like this happen way too often...

4) Marilyn Manson gave a guest lecture in a Philosophy class. We all know his extensive credentials in the field of education. It's okay though, it's not like you're going to alienate a portion of your student population whose religion has been repeatedly crapped on over the years by bringing this douchebag in. Oh wait...

3) John Street was given "Professor" status at Temple after they wrongly deemed him competent enough to "teach" this generation of TU students. This pompous ass was hired by the University? The worst Mayor in the history of the city (shoot, in the history of alot of cities) is influencing the future of the city now? Even if Street knows how the government works better than the average person, he's also 467 times more likely to go on a tangent about his own greatness than the average person. People in his class will learn, but it won't be about political science. But hey, Temple doesn't have department for courses on how to be an undeniable jerkoff, so I guess the PoliSci one had to take him in.

2) One female professor decided to grill me because I said that I thought it was immoral to sleep around without limitations. "People should be able to be in control of their sexuality" is what she said. Fine, your morals tell you that having carefree sex with whoever you choose is good, and mine don't. But don't tell me that I'm wrong because I subscribe to a set of morals that may be more conservative than yours. And in the same vein of hypocritical liberal yo-yos...drumroll for numero uno....


1) I got a terrible grade from a homosexual professor because I spoke my mind. At least with the professor in #2, my argument with her did not affect my grade. It was a Tuesday (the worst day of the week) morning, and the professor thought it was a good time for a pro-gay rant, because why not? I mean I think of gay and lesbian rights as completely intertwined with English composition, who doesn't? I calmly raised my hand and told him I thought that if society accepts homosexuality as something that is inherent from birth they would also have to accept those who felt inclined to bestiality or incestuous relations as normal also. The comment infuriated him and I got a C- in the class because every grade following the interchange between us was absurdly low given the work that was put in, and more importantly the overall quality of the writing. Don't feed me your damn agenda when it has nothing to do with class, then get angry at me for speaking my mind on the issue, while in the process putting you in your place. And don't ever give me a bad grade because you've got some unresolved personal issues. Thank you TU, stellar hiring job right there!


So there you have it. Temple U: Motivating me to achieve new heights so that one day when I get a request for a donation to the school, I can save some toilet paper and use that letter instead. On the bright side, by that point I will be far removed from excreting the nasty array of "food" that's on campus. Goodness gracious, is it that hard to get some good grubbin options at a place where people naturally consume massive amounts of food....and you were wondering where number 8 on my list was, weren't you?

Hotel California

So I was just walking through campus and I heard the Eagles song "Hotel California" echoing through the brisk February air. I stopped to listen as the remainder of the song played...

A few months ago, I realized that this is one of my favorite songs ever written. The girlfriend and I go to this amazing Mexican joint in Delaware, La Tolteca. Every Friday night a few mariachis play, walking around to different tables while patrons make requests and enjoy the tunes. Anyway, they do an unbelievable Hotel California cover and every time I go to this place on a Friday, I anxiously wait for them to reach our table so we can request it. Every time I hear the cover I listen to the lyrics closer than the time before and it has caused an obsession of sorts.

I used to be the type to believe that a song had one meaning that was more real to the owner's intent when writing the piece than all others. While this may still be true to some extent, the meaning I feel through specific lines of this song feel so specific to me. Put some of my favorite parts in bold. Listen to the song a few times. Just some random thoughts, but then again, is any part of this blog not completely random?



On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself,
'This could be Heaven or this could be Hell'
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say...

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year (Any time of year)
You can find it here

Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes benz
She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget

So I called up the Captain,
'Please bring me my wine'
He said, 'We haven't had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine'
And still those voices are calling from far away,
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say...

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
They livin' it up at the Hotel California
What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)
Bring your alibis

Mirrors on the ceiling,
The pink champagne on ice
And she said 'We are all just prisoners here, of our own device'
And in the master's chambers,
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives,
But they just can't kill the beast

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
'Relax,' said the night man,
'We are programmed to receive.
You can check-out any time you like,
But you can never leave!'

Things I Don't Trust (Part 2)

Ok, so I started a list of "Things that I don't trust" in a blog I wrote in January. If you need to catch up on this list you can get to part 1 via the following link... http://ryforry.blogspot.com/2009/01/things-i-dont-trust.html

Anyhow, let's continue on this list, shall we?




8) Red-Sour Patch Kid Hogs
One of the most vile group of human beings, the selective SPK hunters will shamelessly pick out every red one in the batch, leaving all others with the three, still delicious, but less desirable flavors to choose from. The bottom line is that everyone knows the red ones are the best and there is only way to distribute these tart bundles of joy, and that is by chance. You just have to reach your hand in the bag, and take whatever you pull out, and hope that good fortune shines upon you. Annoyingly selective candy eating is not unique to Sour Patch Kids either. Any bag of assorted candy may ultimately end up exposing someone's poor character.
(One of my favorite stories that no one beside myself would think was funny happened on a Road Trip to the beach, when my buddy Ben had an unfortunate streak of picking yellow SPKs, clearly the least desirable of the 4 original flavors. This will happen when you play the candy-eating game fairly, but you have to go with the flow. He later hit a nice streak of reds)

9) Redheads
While we are on the subject of the color red, let's bring up this unique group of people. Have I encountered plenty of redheads in my life that I love to death? Yes of course. (And I certainly love you Red Mandee if you read this, despite the fact that this past weekend you said I would've been Hitler's prized child because of my breathtakingly handsome blue eye/blonde hair combo haha)Would I be surprised if all redheads had strange X-men-like mutant powers and were involved in a conspiracy to overthrow the current authorities that be and rule the planet? Not even a little. Besides, any category of people that Sam Greenberg could fit into is one to be wary of.

10)The Phoney Peacemakers
I love it--and that is a VERY sarcastic love it--when someone tries to position themselves in the middle of a dispute that has nothing to do with them. It's one thing if two of your best friends are about to fight to the death about who has the right to the last piece of pizza...you may want to intervene there. If someone is on the verge of attempting to make a complete fool out of themselves and this person is close to your heart, okay. But please, if you aren't close to the two people involved in an altercation, just stay away from it. People who put themselves directly in the middle of drama that affects them in no way, are clearly just looking to live vicariously through someone else's difficult times. People who get a cheap thrill out of getting in the middle of others' business or get a false sense of satisfaction as "peacemaker" in the situation should not be trusted. Glad we are on the same page here.

11)Wide Receivers
First there was Marvin Harrison's off-season incident in the summer of 2008. After that was Anquan Boldin's meltdown during the recent NFL Playoffs and subsequent contract complaints. It's only a matter of time before you find out that the guys who you think are exceptions to the T.O./Chad Johnson Wideout rule, end up falling right into the stereotype. It's really frustrating the list of NFL receivers that we can trust not to be a me-first, multi-million dollar baby, is getting slimmer and slimmer.

12) Britney Spears' Comeback (and what is says about humanity's progress)
Her music was pretty brutal to begin with, but still sold massive amounts. Now she is having an inane amount of success with a comeback...I shutter at the cultural implications. If there is a more conclusive sign that we should have "Epic Fail" stamped on the collective forehead of our "civilization", I have not scene it. And to think that there are lyrical geniuses in the world who struggle to have their voices heard while a whiny voiced, grown-up brat is repeating the word "womanizer" an excruciating number of times, and making millions of dollars by doing so. Let's move on before my anxiety issues worsen...

Actually, let's end on that note, and I can regroup mentally and hopefully post tomorrow. This week's gonna be brutal one. Wish me luck!

Hey, Tuesday rhymes with Short-fuse Day...kind of

Man, it's just really difficult to get out of the way nowadays isn't it. Both today and yesterday I had numerous encounters with people who just wouldn't move to the side and ease the stress of people's busy days. Alright, so let's get to the individual incidents that made me angrier than a liberal talking about Fox News.

First off, we have the people in North Philadelphia, and many other regions of our fine city, that think that it's okay for them to cross when the light is red and my Camry is barreling down the street. Eventually, a situation like this is going to put me in jail for vehicular homicide. When I have to slam on the brakes with a green light in front of me and the idiot pedestrian doesn't so much as push their pace to a trot, it's infuriating. I slam on the breaks. They look at me like I'm crazy for going on GREEN and then proceed to cross the street with the same intensity of someone walking to get a colonoscopy. I'm telling you right now there is no way that this can end well. If you are the one who has to pay the bail, I am apologizing in advance right now.

Secondly we have the sorority "sisters"--and I use the term as loosely as possible, probably even looser than any of their va....nevermind. My beef with these greek-letter-clad prostitutes is that if you want to act high and mighty on your own time or to a neighboring Brothel..er, Sorority House, go ahead, be my guest. But when people are trying to walk in a very, very crowded area, it holds up progress when you decide to park it right in the middle of the hallway/pathway to have a gossip session. MOVE OVER 3 FEET!!! IT IS NOT THAT HARD!!! It is hard however for the hundreds of people who are already walking single-file to get past your ignorant asses. And you know what, human ignorance comes in all shapes and sizes, so I don't want to just pick on Greek Life, oh wait, yea I kind of do.

Lastly, (at least for now) do not double park or stop your car in the middle of the road to have a lengthy conversation. Especially when you're RIGHT NEXT TO A PARKING SPOT!!! Again, it's just plain ignorant. Look, I understand people got their stuff to unload or whatever, but there's a clear difference between people who need to get something done and the people who just don't give a crap about inconveniencing others around them.

Anyways, I'm done ranting for now. Blogs of more substance will be on the way soon I promise. Although I must say, I'm somewhat proud of myself for keeping up with this thing. Ryan "Vehicular Homicide" Lewis is ouuuuuuutttta heeeeree...

The Weatherman

I moved into a city
And met the weatherman
He told of forecasts full of sun
And beauty filled the land

I asked him if this was the norm
Skies cloudless, bright and blue
He told me before I arrived
That seven storms passed through

And as I walked, surveying land
That seven storms had hit
I feared ominous patterns
Weathermen wouldn't admit

Still this land had potential
With bad weather aside
After some reconstruction
In this place, I'd abide

One day while toiling on the ground
The sun could not be seen
I called the weatherman up quick
To see what this could mean

With signs of storm still closing in
He said don't be alarmed
The sky will clear up soon enough
And no land will be harmed

And as the sky still darkened
The violent storm approached
The horizon took an evil form
The devil couldn't have coached

My faith in him was waning
I'd met weathermen before
It started lightly raining
The lands beauty faded more

And harder still it fell and fell
He told me it'd soon pass
But all my doubts were backed up by
Wrong forecasts he'd amassed

Still this land had potential
With bad weather aside
After some reconstruction
In this place, I'd abide

Trying to find my sanity
In the wake of the storm...
Can't seem to break this feeling
I've been here before...

Post Valentines Day Thoughts

Well, what do I have to say upon concluding V-Day 2009, you ask? Not much that would interest you. See, here's the thing: Valentine's Day is an inherently awkward holiday. It's all a bit hokey if you are in a relationship, and it's just a random day that pisses you off if you're single, burying your face in the fact you're alone.

Let me preface this paragraph by saying that I had a great V-day weekend. A nice dinner out, watching a movie with a bangin homemade brownie sundae, just some real quality time with the girlfriend. I could go on about how lovely it was, but isn't that the point of being with someone. You don't need one 24-hour red and pink period to enjoy someone else's company and display your love for them, because it should be happening frequently. If you're in a relationship you can have a grand old day on February 14th, make lots of romantic gestures and spend time appreciating your significant other. It sounds all well and good, sure, but the fact that people need a "holiday" to celebrate their love for their partner in crime is just plain sad. Not to mention, it just seems like a bad competition sometimes. Who did what for their Valentine and went where, and how much was it, and how extravagant the displays of affection were etc etc. Meanwhile you have all single people questioning their character as every couple in the world is flaunting the fact that they're taken for a day.

The intermingling of single and locked-down people on V-day is another aspect of the loosely termed "holiday" that is awkward by nature. You get the feeling that it's absolutely necessary to have someone on this one random day of the year. Cupid's arrows don't hit everyone who's alone on February 13th, heck, some people never get hit...scary thought. But the fact that some girls lose sleep over it and most guys have no clue what to think of it are both pretty good indicators that the culturally fostered V-day bug is getting a little to big for his britches. People need to chill out about the holiday a bit, but maybe by even writing this blog I'm contributing to the hype.

Here is another problem I have with Valentine's Day. It's a glaring example of what is wrong with people. Everyone really hates each other. Okay, maybe that was a little overstated, but let's face it, people derive some sort of strange thrill from watching drama. When someone asks you how your relationship is going, they aren't asking follow up questions if you tell them it's going well. They want the down and dirty. For guys, it's more about avoiding awkward romantic talk, and for girls it's about gaining hot-gossip material for the day. Either way, someone's interest varies depending on how bad it is, not how peachy it's going.

The rant aside, it was a great weekend with the woman, but not tremendously different from any other weekend we spend together. But a drama-free weekend probably doesn't get the blog ratings during sweeps period? Oh well, till we meet again faithful reader...

Some Random Thursday Thoughts

Just a few things I have to get off my chest in no particular order:

--I have very few inhibitions when it comes to dancing anymore. I am not getting less awkward as the years pass. I am a 6'4 225 pound white boy who still is not completely competent when it comes to his own body mechanics. That said, I do the funky chicken, the ghetto booty shake, and my personal favorite-the random household chore dance where i simply mimic the vacuuming move and the sweep the porch maneuver to perfection on the dance floor. I know how to work that. Speaking of "Work that", one of my guilty pleasures is dancing in my car to one of Mary J. Blige's latest singles, Work That. (The jam was in an Ipod commercial actually, so I'm sure you'd recognize it, the picture's posted below) You can't possibly not move when you hear that song....even if you're an uncoordinated, awkward cracker like myself.

--I'm really down for the idea of bringing back old expressions. A few years back, when I worked at my local pharmacy, I had a co-worker who was a miserable, yet oddly charming, old lady who ran the lottery machine. We called her "The Hag". Well anyways, Hag had a bunch of old zingers and I ate them up. My favorite was "why don't you take a long walk off a short pier". It's witty, it's vicious, it's pure awesomeness, plain and simple. That got me thinking of others. Like why don't we call certain women who fit the bill "firecrackers." I love it, and it should be brought back. (There are a million of these little old-timer sayings floating around, so keep you ear open to the elderly)

--I think one of the most nauseating things is hearing one human repeatedly give cliche advice to another. I want to make a law that says that you are only allowed to give a certain amount of cliche suggestions--a la "follow your heart"--per year, and they must be prefaced with the statement, "I know this sounds cliche, but I think it's relevant to your current predicament...INSERT CLICHE ADVICE HERE. The point is, if I'm having relationship troubles for instance, I don't want to hear someone tell me to "tell her how you feel" or something to that extent. Let's dig "deep within ourselves" (hahaha) people and find ways to build up others in a way that does not sound like a line out of a Hallmark ad.

--Now that my Ry-pod and I are coming up on our two year anniversary, I can't imagine life without it. I used to be an Ipod hater, just because it seemed like a dumb trend. Well, it definitely was a trend, but it was far from dumb. My car rides wouldn't be the same, and for that I thank you Mr.Pod.





As usual folks, thanks for wasting your time reading my nonsensical thoughts!!

Writer’s Block & Crazy People…………By: Crazy Person with Writer’s Block

Writer's Block. The E.D. of an astute penman. It will bring even the most sound of ink-thinkers to their wits end. There’s really no viable comparison to it in any profession. If you’re a professional athlete, you don’t just go through periods where you forget how to play the game completely. And if you go through a slump or an injury, guess what, you’re still getting your paycheck. If you’re a doctor, you don’t go through moments in the day where you completely forget where to make a surgical incision on a patient with a given sickness. (At least I sure hope not). If you are in a field that requires any form of creative writing, as I hope to be in someday, writer’s block is the most helpless feeling imaginable.

Feeling mentally incapacitated is not fun. I think sometimes that one of the main reasons I have not been locked up for a violent crime in my life is because I can transcribe those feelings into a song, a poem, or just a rant, and avoid possible outbursts on the public at large. I think that we as a society are unaware of just how close to the edge a good portion of the people around us actually are. That last sentence was wordy. The point I’m trying to get across is that many people around you at any given time are crazy. Sometimes, just a smile and a “hello” will give a person enough reason to cool down. Sometimes they need to write. Everyone has a friend who has at some point put them on their back and single-handedly carried them through a tough time. At certain points however, a stranger can get the job done just fine. And maybe your attempts to be a helpful citizen will be rewarded. I have a story about this…

I was at a bar a few years back, my favorite underage watering hole at the time actually, and two guys walked in. They looked really angry about something, I obviously had no idea what, but I was curious. So I watched them, sipping their Budweiser bottles conversation-less, looking around with glances of ill intent. Feeling a bit on the buzzed side myself, I decided to buy their next round. I went over and said something to the effect of, “you guys looked pissed off, and it’s the weekend, so I just thought it’d be good if you weren’t pissed off.” They both just laughed, more at me than with me, but their moods seemed to change. Upon finishing their brews, they ended up leaving the bar, seemingly with all destructive urges quelled, at least for the time being. Now I don’t know whether these guys left the bar and committed a triple-homicide, or whether they had no bad intentions to begin with. What I do know is that they exited the bar a lot calmer than they entered it, and they ended up leaving 50 bucks for me and my crew to spend after they bounced. (Completely side note, I think this is a solid story, and I feel I have amassed a good amount of stories like this over the years….word)


I think the best cure for writer’s block is just writing about having nothing to write about, because it often times can turn into something. I got from writer’s block to crazy people, and pretty smoothly actually. So yea, I think the major bullet points of this ridiculously scatter-brained blog are as follows:

• Writer’s Block sucks
• Crazy people are all around you
• Extend kind gestures to those who look crazy
• Random stories are pretty awesome
• Writer’s Block loses the battle this time….till we meet again my nemesis

Thanks for reading the ramblings of a madman.

Faith's Away

All I see are shades of gray
Hope is fleeting
Faith’s away
Will it return no ones knows
Darkness comes while
Faith derobes
Naked, cold, and frightened stiff
Faith fears questions
Pleads the fifth
Night comes early while day dies
Faith hides behind
Starless Skies
Future hurts and past regrets
Embodied in
Faithless Bets
Are these wagers poor attempts
To deny hell
Faith preempts
Existence not futile still
A lie that faith
Must fulfill
All I see are shades of gray
Hope is fleeting
Faith’s away

Mid-Winter Blues

A few years back, I was enjoying coffee and camel cigarettes at the Tom Jones Diner with a few close friends. I confessed that I had been feeling really lethargic for a good while. They were thoroughly amused by my statement, one because I tend to be overly dramatic from time to time, and two because, well, lethargic is a funny sounding word. You can't really hear someone say it in a serious sentence. My provisions of unintentional comedy aside, it was just a rough time of year. Women talk about that time of the month. Well this was that time of the year. It's the time of year in the winter, just after football season, and before there's anything else legitimately to look forward to. Uggggh, that time is now! If you're in school like I am, there's plenty of papers and projects to enhance the misery that is the Mid-Winter Blues. I'm not exactly sure how it feels for someone who is a full-time worker, but I imagine its pretty monotonous also.

Another problem with this time of year is that it always snows an inconvenient amount. (On the rare occasions Philly gets snow anymore) It's just enough to make traffic worse than usual and demolish hours of sleep/free time with shoveling and cleaning off the car, but normally not enough for school to be canceled. Normally I love the snow, but as you get older, it becomes more of a hassle. I just want to go back to the days where I could just play in the snow with friends and everyone was too young to have important obligations...or should I say still innocent enough to realize that many of life's "obligations" should be re-prioritized? I understand the values of hard work and commitment to an employer, but I also understand the dangers of becoming a cynical prick and losing the joys of youth, one such joy being a snowstorm.

So I'm just sitting here, lethargically typing away as I wait for something to break the norm. Sometimes, you just have to wait it out I guess, and hope that Wednesday night's LOST episode can hold ya over till the weekend. Who knows, I'm starting to get scatterbrained--even more so than usual--so I'm out...

LOST in Real Life (BY GUEST WRITER BRIAN MURPHY)

**Disclaimer** The opinions expressed in the following text are not to be taken personal. Please disregard appearance similarities. Most, if not all, have nothing to do with the comparisons drawn below. However, if you feel compelled to make yourself feel better, please believe that appearance is everything.


Jack Shepard (Brian Murphy)

Upon landing on the island, Jack (Brian) became an instantaneous leader of the survivors. He is determined to get the entire crew off the island (graduate college), safe and sound. The drama unfolds when Jack (Brian), a once clean shaven, sober individual who was focused only on his successes in the operating room (classroom), succumbs to the pressures of life off the island (bars and women). Pills and alcohol (booze and women) become his refuge, and the only place he can think to return to is the island (his apartment). Jack (Brian) has only one option left to complete this task, his once-rival, Benjamin Linus.

Benjamin Linus (Dan Ross)

Ben (Dan) is an unbelievably unique individual. He can be simultaneously play the heel and hero while never wavering from his ultimate game plan of once more seizing power (of a casino). Ben (Dan) has extreme passion for his beloved island (Phillies) and he will protect it at any cost, even human lives (rash insults). Ben (Dan) takes his orders from Jacob (Doyle Brunson), and lives his life (poker game) by them. Ben (Dan) is currently trying to get back to the island in hopes to rule again. Currently, the others are being ruled by John Locke.

John Locke (Ryan Lewis)

Before crashing on the island, John (Ryan) was wheelchair-bound for the remainder of his life after a tragic fall (high ankle sprain). However, on the island, John (Ryan) is a mobile (healthy ankle), new man deeply rooted in his faith (Christianity) and will not waver from his belief in fate and the inherent goodness of the island (Brian Dawkins). John (Ryan) is currently ruling the island alongside Richard Alpert. Throughout his time travels (personality changes), John (Ryan) finds himself in various predicaments all dependant on the time (mood) he is in.

Richard Alpert (Dennis Blanch)

Despite the duration of time that has transpired throughout LOST, Richard (Dennis) has maintained his same look (flowing hair). Richard (Dennis) has been Ben’s (Jake Blanch) right hand man (brother). Suddenly, the relationship has taken a new twist as John Locke (Jules Labradinger) is now in the picture. We left Richard (Dennis) being in control of the original others (WHHS) while in contact with his not-yet-born leader (Ryan Lewis).



James Ford “Sawyer” (Jake Kurz)

Sawyer (Jake) has come a long way from his days behind bars (lunchtime extortion). He now finds himself in a love triangle with Jack Shepard (Shawn Michaels) and Kate Austen (Randy Orton). Sawyer (Jake) is still on the island because he risked his own life by jumping from the helicopter (Septa Bus) to save the rest of his friends. Sawyer (Jake) does have one thing that he cares about deeply; his daughter (honey mustard). Sawyer (Jake) now relies on his brazen nature (wii bowling skills) to survive on the island.

Kate Austen (Colleen Nolan)

Kate (Colleen) is an individual who prefers the company of a man (Dennis), but a strong enough woman to survive on her own caring for her “child” (driving Kyle home) day-in and day-out. Kate (Colleen) was once imprisoned for murder (giving away meals at Halligans); however, on the island (college) Kate (Colleen) finds herself liberated from such reality. Kate (Colleen) refuses to return to the island (Ritas) because of the emotionally-traumatizing experiences she left there.

Hugo “Hurley” Reyes (Kevin “Paul Paul Vagina” Patterson)

Despite accusations that Hurley (Kevin) is an insane person (crazy person), Hurley (Kevin) may actually be the sanest (successful) person in the group of survivors. Following his lottery win (near death experience on the rugby field), Hurley (Kevin) was left to drastically reevaluate his life. Hurley (Kevin) doesn’t want the money so he allows his parents (Brian) to purchase anything they want (Oakleys). We left Hurley (Kevin) in police custody (teaching in North Philly).

Sayid Jarrah (Dave Million)

Before boarding Oceanic flight 815, Sayid (Dave) was a member of the Iraqi Republican Guard (US Air Force). There he learned many skills in torture (flying planes) that he has displayed numerous times on the island. Sayid (Dave) is now an associate of Ben Linus (Uncle Sam) who is keeping the group of survivors (United States) safe from the threat of Charles Widmore’s people (terrorists).

Desmond Hume (Daniel “DJ” Lacey)

Desmond (DJ) was one of the few people who was not on Oceanic flight 815 (attended HHS). Instead, Desmond (DJ) lived in a hatch (Media) that became his home for years to come. His passion was simple: reuniting with Penny Widmore (coaching hockey). Desmond (DJ) did whatever he had to (ride the train to the city) in order to fulfill this expectation (Flyers Youth Hockey Foundation).

Bernard Nadler (Jonathan Greenberg) and Rose Nadler (Melissa Arden)

Bernard (Jon) came upon the island with his wife (Melissa), who was suffering from cancer (long distance relationship), but is now miraculously healed. Bernard (Jon) brings his medical (masturbation) expertise to the island alongside Jack and Juliet. Bernard (Jon) also has knowledge of Morse code (Phillies ticket prices) that he uses for the betterment of life on the island (manipulating the system). Bernard (Jon) wanted to leave the island at first. However, Rose (Melissa) persuaded him to stay longer.


Daniel Faraday (Kevin Doran)

Starting at Oxford University (Penn State), Daniel (Doran) experimented with time travel (skipping class). This inevitably led to his dismissal (withdraw) from school. As a result of his experimentation (missed exams), his family (Hacksaw) forced him to leave home and find the answers (job) he needed. We left Daniel (Doran) on the island (Philly) struggling to dismantle a hydrogen bomb (working at 911).

Mike Check

Is there anyone cooler than Mike Tomlin? I was wondering last night as I sat watching the head coach of the Pittsburgh Steelers whether I would take anyone else in the League ahead of him to run my team. I think the answer is no. A 37 year old that looks like Omar Epps only bigger and more intimidating is a coach in the NFL? If there were a battle royale of NFL coaches, vegas would have Tomlin the heavy, HEAVY favorite to be the last one standing. I think he could take on a fair amount of players for that matter. I know its cliche to say he demands respect, but come on, this particular case would fit that cliche better than say, if the subject were Rich Kotite. He's always cool and collected on the sidelines, just sticking with his game plan and daring you to stop it. Sure he'll run a gimmick play here and there, but for the most part the scheme is out in the open. Pound the rock, protect the rock, win T.O.P. and let the defense abuse opposing offenses. ("It's not gonna be pretty. You can throw style points out the window," were Tomlin's words on the podium postgame). Play to the strengths of the players on the team, utilizing each man's unique God-given talent. The method won Tomlin's squad Super Bowl XLIII last night and the franchise's record 6th Lombardi Trophy. The guy was just as cool in the Post game press conference as he was at the most pressure-filled moments of the game, talking about how blessed he was that the Rooney family gave a young guy like himself a chance. He also sayed he vowed to reward their faith in him, and he obviously delivered on that in the biggest way possible. I would do anything for a coach like that in this city. I'm not holding my breath.

Far-from-Super Mood (Written Sunday 2/1/09)

It's Super Sunday, one of my favorite holidays of the year. Football, food loaded with fat and salt, entertainment, party atmosphere-- all staples of biggest sporting event on the calendar for Americans. The hype for this game is unmatched, which is probably why there is almost always some letdown. Normally this would be a 24-hour period in my life completely free from distractions and from any obligations to school or work. This, however, isn't a normal year. After the Birds let Arizona march the field for what ended up being the game-winning touchdown two sundays ago, I just can't get as pumped for the title game in Tampa. I have a 10-hour shift at work, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I can watch the game by myself here and there while on the clock, a situation that clearly reflects how I feel about SB43...it's in the background.

All day I've had the strangest feeling. It feels to me like I am missing an extremely important life event, but I don't know quite what the event is and I don't know why I'm missing it. It's like if my cousin had a wedding and I piled things on top of the invitation and months passed, then eventually I looked at my calendar when I woke up on February 1st, and said to myself, "Ry, you have something important today, but what the heck is it?" And on top of that, there is nothing else important today to supplant the thing I'm missing. I'm simply left to dwell on it all day, this lingering annoyance. Two weeks ago, I wrote about the energy that a true fan runs off of in the hours leading up to a huge game. Today, the test of one's fandom lies in their feelings on the Steelers-Cardinals matchup (which would have ridiculously low ratings by the way, if well, it wasn't the Super Bowl), specifically about if they can watch the game without constantly bitching in their own head about the NFC Championships "what ifs". You see, a true Eagles fan isn't over the loss because the season isn't over. You can't possibly watch a Warner deep out to Larry Fitz without thinking, where did we go wrong defensively in the first half. There's no way you can't think about the fact that we outplayed the Steelers in our 08 matchup with them, and maybe the matchup would go in our favor again. It will literally hurt as much as a helmet-less head crashing through a windshield watching Roethlisberger hold that Lombardi Trophy high. Just imagine Adrian Wilson yelling out to the faithful Cards fans at Raymond James that no one believed in them, and the Simmons article the following day about how the "no one believed in us" factor is now being bumped up to rule number 1 of his playoff manifesto. That could've been Donovan's line! He could've been the brunt of Simmons' favorite joke. Donovan could've been on that podium reading out the telephone numbers and addresses of the Dirty Thirty while slamming the trophy over Cataldi's head and my euphoria at that moment would not have been quelled (may actually have been enhanced). The image of Brian Dawkins crying his eyes out, speechless holding his SB MVP trophy after a 1-sack, 1-pick, 1-forced fumble game, is one that just will not leave me on this day. Shoot, I'd be crying my eyes out too. The only daze I'd be in would be one of utter joy if these things happened. But no, just an empty feeling there.


Today could have ended up being one of the 5 greatest of my life, I'm not sure what the others will end up being but I know if we had played in and won SB43, it would have been tatooed into the aformentioned list. Instead, I'm in this groggy, lackadaisical mood and feel as though I'm missing something important. This day is clearly the anti-Super, as greenbleeders everywhere again are left to think of what could have been...