Collared Greens, Greene Beans, and Gnomes in the City

Gerald Green, was born during halftime of Super Bowl XX.
Picked 18th by Celtics

I love when things work out my way. A post from a while ago had me talking about the wild rumors about trading Pierce to get a higher draft pick, to in my mind, get Gerald Green. Now, I will openly admit that I hardly follow college hoops. So, I usually catch a couple games here and there when nothing is on. Most of the time, I get my opinions from my Financial Advisor V. Then, a few months before the NBA Draft comes up I hit the player bio sites and look for one player I find cool. The guy that seems to have freakish ability, and preferably coming out of high school. Only in America can you go from serving burgers at McDonald's, to serving facials to beautiful women this quickly.

So Gerald Green stuck out to me. Everybody had something good to say about him, and the only negative I read was that he needs to protect his dribble better. Born January 26, 1986 he's from Houston (TX), Gulf Shores Academy High School, and stands at 6'-8" 200lbs. He may not get much playing time this year, or he may pull a Big Al and justify some playing time through his performance in practice. Whatever, he is a freak of nature, and a possible star. Needless to say, I will be getting some summer league tickets to see him, just like I did to see Lebron James. Green wasn't the best player in the draft, but I think he is the best wildcard. The Celtics establishment originally had Ryan Gomes set to go as their number 18th pick, and were ecstatic to see Green fall to them at 18th. To Danny Ainge, that was like getting a 6th round pick at the 18th spot.

Ryan Gomes, used to hang out with "Buddy" Cianci
Pick #50 by the Celtics

In all seriousness, this is a well spoken college senior who broke all kinds of records at Providence. It was amazing that he lasted till 50 seeing as that the Celtics were thinking of grabbing him at 18. Very versatile player who likes to use his 6'-8" and 248 lbs. body to bang into people, and abuse them. The word is, is that he makes his living on the blocks and at the line. A great free throw shooter, and he has improved his perimeter shooting as well. He is a local guy which must be pretty cool for him, and will make him an instant fan favorite when he gets on the floor. The negative on him is that he is like a present day Chris Webber. Not very athletic, and slow foot speed. In a league full of bangers, how is he going to shine from the pack?

Orien Greene, ranked as one of the top 25 point guards for the draft.
Pick #53 by Celtics.

Another college senior from La.-Lafayette Ragin' Cajuns. That makes me hungry for some reason. A 6'-4" 208 lbs. point guard, he is listed as having a good ability to find the open man, and can handle the outside shot as well. A gamer with potential at this point in the draft so, what the hey. Quick fact, the Celtics assured Greene they would pick him at 53, but when Amir Johnson, a 6'-10" 210 lbs. High Schooler from Westchester, Los Angels CA was available the Celtics tried unsuccessfully to renege on the promise. Orien Greene was chosen at 53, and Amir Johnson went 56 to the Detroit Pistons.

The Celtics ended off the draft by grabbing some of the un-chosen talent leftover in Taylor Coppenrath, a 6'-9" white boy from Vermont. Nice. Will Bynum, a 6 footer from Georgia-Tech that Danny Ainge thought was better than 25-30 players that were drafted. Jeremiah Massey, a 6'-8" forward from Kansas State and finally Will McDonald, a 6'-10" banger out of South Florida. I think that this draft, combined with last years, equals an A+++. Now some notables from the draft.

I had to study for a final at the same time I was watching the draft. Not an easy task, so I mostly listened until the Celtics were up. Some of the quotes that caught my ear.

"Yeah, my brother was tough on me when we played basketball. He pulled a knife on me one time."

I love how they let these guys talk without preparation. They could say anything, and it would air live.

Another guy said, "Yeah, we would play ball in thunderstorms and my brother would punch me in the ribs, and slam me against the fence to toughen me up."

Now that's a brother that loves you. Nothing but the elite for the NBA.

Keepin' It Plastic

Sorry I have not been keeping up with my posts, for anyone who cares.:)

I've been a complete mess with work, and finding time to study. I am sick of work, and in dire need of a vacation (who isn't?).

I've read that women that don't orgasm with their partners, are actually receiving a message from their bodies that their male companion isn't the right one to start a family with. If this is true, then I missed two potential families, and I'm currently planning to marry a women who is now doomed. But, then I must ask this question. What if you never miss when pleasuring a woman orally?

Summer is going by at a mind numbing rate. July 4th is this weekend?!?! It feels like it's been summer for a week. God, the thought of another winter soon, tends to bring on suicidal ideation.

V, from Flipflops, Socks, and Sweatpants is currently being a jerk to me, because I have ducked him many a boxing event that required pay-per-view. I told him I would make it up to him during the planned, "Men in the Woods," retreat. He still had an attitude, so God punished him by having the Celtics pick Gerald Green in the first round. I like the pick. God likes me. Other than that, I've got to go.

I'm way to busy for the best part of the year. Summer! Cool new gear will be coming to the One Eared Store. I had no idea such a simple thing would pay dividends, and profits are going to Boston Children's Hopsital for Microtia research. One of the items will be titled, "Forrest Reach Out Coffee Mug." See if you can guess what that might be.

This One Goes out to Rao.

The Father of Beo is a unique individual.


I always loved to hear this song whenever my father blared it during his baths. A man that tormented as much as he taught.

But it's funny. All the things he didn't know how to teach, my wonderful Mother was there. She lost her way further on in life, but has recently found her way again, as have I. I sometimes wonder if it was my fault that my Mother fell apart, because I fell apart too. But, I know better that it was all our faults. Each one of us were to blame. I'll save my Mother for another time.

My Father is one of those meat and potato relics. Get home after work, and have a couple beers in a hot bath with Led Zeppelin (Elvis, AC/DC, Pink Floyd, Pearl Jam, ect...) blaring at top volume. So much so, that my mother would furiously have to compepte by turning up the T.V. volume. He taught me how to ice fish in the blistering cold, yet I would never have known what a great feeling it was to ice skate with an entire pond at your feet. Or how good bratwursts with potatoes, and sauerkraut with butter and pepper over a fire in the woods was for lunch. Everything he taught me came with as much good, as bad. Teaching me how to push myself, so that I'd know those levels can be reached. He would be aggressive with me, taunting me at most points because of his own bitter attitude toward life. That, and the fact that I felt they didn't respect me, so I didn't show them any respect. My father quoted that one himself.

But I love him though. More than anything in the world. I realize how much they shaped my character and outlook on life, and I'm thankful for that. Dad is pretty quick with hugs when he's had a couple. Doesn't necessarily liked to be touched when he's sober. So that's when I would try to get my hugs from him. Just to piss him off. I know, I suck. This is a man that routinely walked around with no clothes because he proclaimed, "This is my effing house," and nicknamed his penis, "The Dookah." God, I wish I was kidding.

He is the greatest, and worst person you'd ever want to meet. But, aren't we all in some respects. I listened to this song today, and it brought back so many memories that it made it easy to post this. I love you Dad. You taught me about rock and roll, and life before I even realized it existed. Which makes me so sad when I hear this song, and I think about the fact that his goal in life was to raise his kids as best he could, and work hard to pay bills. Now that raising the kids is all done, all that's left is to keep paying bills. I wish I could go back and be your child again, just so could do it again (at least the fun parts). It pains me horribly when I think that someday, he won't be here for me to tell him, "Thank you," one last time.

Inexplicable selection that goes against everything I like about rap.
But I like it? So turn it up, really loud?

Suicide Bombers are JERKS!

Aren't you sick of hearing about people blowing themselves up?


Yeah, me too. The previous post before this one, spawned the idea for the Jerk Suicide Bomber Baseball Jersey. Get a close look at it at the One Eared Store. People will probably think you're a real a-hole when you wear it. So, buy one now if you can.

P.S. - Again, all profits go to Microtia research.

Times of our WMD Lives

A Poll of 85 experts say there's a 50% chance of an attack.


Wow, all those experts, and they still wind up riding the fence for something that is a guesstimate at best anyways. Brilliant! I hope they didn't use taxpayer money for the survey. Wait a minute, who am I kidding?

They came out with a 50% estimated chance over 5 years. Then they gave us a 70% chance, something a little more conclusive, when they estimated for the next decade. Boy, don't you feel better with a bunch of experts guessing about when a mass chemical, or mass nuclear weapon could be launched?

It all comes down to global equality. If people feel they are slaves, they will fight until the death to be free, because they appropriately feel that life isn't worth living without liberation. Hope is a dangerous thing for a human to lose. Just ask the people who feel it's a religious accomplishment to blow themselves, and anyone else around them up.

I don't even read the daily section of the newspaper that tells the story of another suicide bomber blowing up a street market. Horrifically, I wish they would run out of people to do this. The idea of blowing yourself up has to work against your cause at some point right? You gotta be running out of your own peeps at some point. Wrong. Everybody is in on this. Everyone who hates America because we are a tyrant. It's never going to stop until the people rebel against the insurgents, and even still, they're just sacrificing equality for peace. Pretty sad.

I still hate the suicide bombers though, and I'm making up a suicide bomber shirt in my store. The title will be "Jerk". I would love to have a wannabe suicide bomber in my parents basement so I could inject him/her with small amounts of bleach. So he/she would break out into fevers, sickness and chills, and eventually, myocardial infarction. But, I would feel even worse spiritually, and mentally, when I think that all he/she really wanted was freedom.

Rob Brown "Air Guitar" Fame Watch

The Human Train Wreck got his horrific story published.


So this is a good thing. I was more than a little disappointed that something this stupid didn't get a lot more publicity. I mean, come on? Who doesn't like to pull out the old air guitar sometimes? Only in America can you get a trip to L.A. from doing just that.

Now, the biggest thing is that Rob seemingly never gets a break. Well, actually he does get breaks, but they get drowned out by the same things that bother most people. Loneliness, money problems, demons. This kid is just dying for a break, and he does deserve it. The little breaks are't enough for a kid with this much passion. He sees it as someone should whisk him away, give him all the drugs he desires, and allow him to overdose in peace. But no. He has to work, and struggle, and deal with the dark reality of life. You're probably thinking, "Don't we all?" If you knew him like I knew him, just try walking a mile in his skin (or deadskin), and you'll see that life is a lot more black than white to him. Hey, society did him in. Just like a lot of mass murderers, and Mike Tyson. They just don't work in the system. Anyways, I digress.

Glenn Yoder from Northeaster University wrote an article called "Rockin' On Air" and he describes the night in overall detail, although he screwed up the name of the band Rob air guitared to. It was actually Slayer instead of Pantera, but again, why give Rob his due? Here are some words from it.

"The most entertaining portion of the night came when a contestant without the customary stage name took a spill in the midst of head banging. Rob Brown was throwing around his shoulder blade length hair about 20 seconds into a Pantera number when he stepped off the stage and fell onto his ribs on top of a speaker cabinet - hard. He bolted to his feet immediately and proceeded to point his finger toward the ceiling for the remaining 70 seconds, letting the audience and judges know he was "number one."

"That guy is metal as [expletive]," one judge exclaimed as he justified giving Brown a perfect score. "He probably shits iron ore."

Asked what it felt like to take the involuntary stage-dive onto a speaker cabinet, the 29-year-old Stoughton native responded, "It felt drunk [sic] ... I had Lager and beer and three shots of rum, and that's just the alcohol. I won't tell you about the rest."

He wasn't the only one laying it all on the line. Rock Greenwood, who was "rocking for two" after his buddy was booted from the competition by the club, fell offstage and onstage - including taking a swan dive from the drum stage face first into the regular stage. The judges rewarded his aches with high enough scores to qualify for round two." Glenn Yoder from Northeaster University

Did you get that last part? People were trying to upstage Rob by falling on stage. Yikes!

Here are some recent pics of a band he actually plays in. For one more week.

The One Eared Store!

So now you can wear apparel to be as retarded as me.:)


We can all share in the wonders of Microtia, and share in the glorious wonder of it all. At the same time, you can be helping Beo spread the word of his blog with some sharp duds and doo dads. Most of the shirts have the blog URL on the back. Get one if you like. I'm trying to find a way to have any profits go to a charitable foundation for studies on Microtia. So go make a statement, and wear some One Eared apparel. Share in my profound sense of reality.

See all the stuff at The One Eared Store.

The Global Inbreeding Epidemic

Could a simple thought, foresee an ironic end to our race?

I've been thinking about this for a little while. You have three couples of a man and a woman in a room with no doors. Lets say that theoretically they can live without food or water. The only thing I'm getting to is the urge to procreate occurs, and they begin to have children. No one is allowed to leave. Ever. The children get older, and they of course have the urge to procreate. The young men and woman have children. This continues for however long. The parents have children, and their children have children, that have children..... Imagine whatever you want. At some point, that room is going to get pretty full. And what will happen at some point? There is going to be some type of unintentional (hopefully not intentional) inbreeding inevitably at some juncture.

Now think of the Earth as the room with no doors, and instead of a few couples, there are thousands, or even a hundreds of thousands of couples across the globe. This would be the start of the human civilization. Now we began to procreate for a couple thousand years. Things are getting pretty tight in the room lately, right? Is there anyone who keeps a tally on the occurrence of unintentional inbreeding? Does that even exist? Yeah, I know, I'm ridiculous.

Sooner or later, the gene pool is going to get pretty tight, and begin overlapping. There isn't any fresh gene pools coming in from anywhere else, and we all come from people who were since the beginning. Now give us a few more thousand years from now. Who's to say that when the population rises predictably higher, and if we escape any number of unforeseen tragic occurrences to our planet, that we would actually begin to inbreed, ironically by our own instinct to survive. Are we just naturally devolving, and just keeping busy while it comes? I know. You hate me.

A True American

Charles Campbell, a blogger aiming for a Guinness World Record.


The World feels like a mess sometimes. Most convince themselves that our government is doing what's best regarding foreign policy. Some may disagree, yet they are faced with social backlash for going against the old machine that taught us violence is the way. Things feel all wishy washy. We are all so convoluted and wrapped up in our own lives and problems, that we miss the whole point of being here. To enjoy a rare existence on such a wonderfully hospitable planet.

What does a true American do when faced with things he cannot change? War, poverty, racism, epidemics?............He goes for a walk. But a real man just doesn't walk empty handed. Real men wear approximately 75lbs. of weight on his back. Charles Campbell feels a sufficient walk would be across the entire United States. Starting south toward Georgia, and then ending in Washington state. The estimated time to complete the journey,.......2 1/2 years. He has been in Boston as of late, and is keeping a record of his journey on his blog site Setting the backpacking record!

Now, I will admit that I may be sprinkling this story with some spiritual aspects that may not exist at this time. Charles has stated that he simply wants to break a long distance walking record in the Guinness Book of World Records, "Because I can, and I want to," by wearing a 75lbs. backpack (the record he is trying to break, is of a person without a backpack). "American's are so used to convienence, that they loose sight of what it's all about," Campbell says. I couldn't agree with him more.

I truly think that Charles is in for more than he'd imagined, and I feel people will seek for reasons why he is doing this amazing walk. Sponsors can be raised for fighting famine, or donations to any disease of his choice. A protest for, or against the war. The possibilities are just endless and I think at some point, Charles might take the step towards making this walk have and unintended meaning or purpose. I will definitely be posting updates on things that happen to him.

If not, oh well. It's still a heck of a feat. I can only imagine what unbelievable cardio health he'll be in by the end of it. I also have questions. Like what happens when the winter season hits?

Good luck Charles. I'm sure this journey is going to have some corners and turns you never imagined.

So I Made my own Image Link

- Click on me!
I link to a One Eared mutant who is mildly attractive.

So, I'm kinda proud. If you like my site, why don't you view the source of the link, and post it into your sidebar right in the area where you usually link people you like.

?a href="http://1earman.blogspot.com/"??img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/184/3837/320/1earman5.jpg" /??/a?

If you still don't understand just copy the text above, yet instead of ? marks, replace each with the following. <,>,<,>,<,>. Hopefully you understand me. If not, oh well. We tried. : )

It Pays to be Free

Michael Jackson has his freedom. This picture is totally unfair.

Hey, it really didn't matter what happened. Guilty, free, none of it really mattered in the end. The truth is, guilty people go to jail, and innocent people go to jail. Money helps you stay out of jail, and being broke as a joke makes you a possible suspect unless you have an alibi and hopefully, a lack of criminal evidence against you.

What does it matter? It's high drama for the insatiable common man and woman. The need for the next big story. The fact is, no one knows who the hell is really telling the truth, and who is lying. So, most people I know are looking for a conviction that they have a gut feeling about. They seem disturbed when I start laughing heartily. They ask me why I do this. I explain that it was funny they had an opinion. They'd ask why that was. I'd explain how I thought it was foolish because none of it really mattered, and that we just needed to talk about current events. They agreed, albeit it not without making everyone in the room feeling a little empty. Including myself, because hypocritically enough, I have my own opinion too. Funny.

Hey, are you grooving to the song? Yeah, me too. "Feelin' that beat, we gonna ride the boogie."
- actual fan reaction to the verdict. Did we contact alien life?

Well, all I'm going to say is, is that the man admittedly sleeps with boys. Has gone to court for this before, and I feel strongly that only Michael Jackson would say something as odd as, "Got milk", to a picture of a topples woman. Have men probably uttered the phrase before? I'm sure, but my "gut" says he said it. All in all, weird enough for some Martha Stewart time at most. But again, what does it matter? In all likelihood, Michael has a dollar bill of yours in the bank.

The Ridiculousness Continues

Tom Brady, "If they get any bigger, you'd have to wear it on your belt."

The incredible run the Pats have gone on for four years continues, with the latest addition being this Superbowl ring. I honestly think Tom Brady may get a Superbowl belt buckle in the future.

The New England Patriots gathered for a cocktail party at owner Robert Kraft's house Sunday night to collect their 4.94-karat diamond Super Bowl rings.

This year's edition has 124 diamonds, 20 more than the rings from the previous season. Twenty-one of the diamonds are around the Patriots logo, representing the team's winning streak that ended in the middle of last season, and there is a trio of Lombardi Trophies - topped with marquise-cut diamonds on the centerpiece.

On one side of the ring, there is reference to each of the team's championships in '01, '03, and '04. On the other is the 24-21 score of the most recent Super Bowl victory over Philadelphia, as well as the team's 9-0 playoff mark since 2001.

According to Jostens, which has made 26 of the 39 Super Bowl rings, this year's is the heaviest ever at 4.06 ounces. - Jerome Solomon, The Boston Globe

"Where this ride stops, nobody knows."

I've been LOST all Weekend

Dead "S" gave my fiance and I, the greatest gift ever.

Every single episode of LOST on two DVD discs, except for the last episode. I always catch onto popular things last. I saw a rerun of the first episode last week, and it was totally new to me. I hadn't watched any of the other episodes throughout the entire season. Dead "S" had mentioned that he downloaded all the episodes in HD. The first episode totally hooked me. I said to "A", "Where the hell did this show come from? We've got to call "S"."

People at work continually asked me if I had seen the show. I would tell them no and that I don't watch T.V. that often except for a couple shows. They said it was really good, and that I should watch it. "Yeah, whatever, I'm sure I'll catch an episode in due time.", I'd say.

What the hell is my problem. I am enthralled by this show. "A" and I had to have the car put into the shop because the head gasket has been warped for some time and it needs to be repaired. Along with the tie rod that "A" bent went she took a digger into a curb during a snow storm. The car has been in the shop for about 5 days now, and since Friday night, we've been relegated to walking the streets of my town for prescriptions that "A" needs. To coffees we feel we need to get, to lugging 25-30 pound bags of groceries from the supermarket. It has been enjoyably liberating for both of us. Not having a car, actually comes down to, not having to do as much. A little break so to speak, from the two flames that burn at both of our ends.

So with our newly liberated weekend we decided to clean the apartment spotless, along with me sporadically studying algebra, watch Mike Tyson end his career, and diving into the 99% full season of LOST. We have watched three months of LOST in three days, and we're just about ready to hop into episode 13. We've had to force ourselves to go to bed at 2:30 a.m., knowing we were fully capable of staying up for another episode each night. This has been one of the greatest weekends of my life.

"A" and I laying together and watching wonderfully put together HD episodes of LOST. I mean, all the commercials are totally cut out. It took me a while to even figure out when one ended, and one began. I feel like I live on the island right now. Dead "S" put episodes 1-12 on one DVD, and episodes 13-3,547 on another DVD. How do you even get that many one hour episodes onto a DVD?! It's absolutely insane. "S", I love you. It's like watching a T.V. show the way it was meant to be. Totally at your fingertips, and without conglomerate influence. The greatest kicker, "S" gave us every episode except for the 2 hour season finally. It's comparable to waiting for Christmas, because I know I'm going to need to watch it at some point in time.

I'm on edge. I can't tell if it's the wind, or if I'm hearing whispers. I'm following trails by looking for bent blades of grass, and broken twigs. I must study algebra for three hours now. Then, I'm heading back into the jungle. I hope we meet again.

Oh Jeepers, Hide the Women and Children!

Update - So, Mike didn't get up off the corner seat for the seventh round. He gave up exhausted, admiting to Jim Gray that he, "dosen't have the heart for boxing anymore, and he's only doing it to pay off his debts." A could be sad ending, to a man that grabed every ounce of his potential, through physically beating other human beings. To having a national audience watch it all slip away. I said could be, because he still has debts to pay off.




Mike Tyson, "......wait, do I really need to put anything here?


So I have the guys coming over the apartment tonight and they are all going to chip in for the cost of the pay-per-view, because as we all know, it could work out to not be worth it. But that's what keeps us watching in the same respect. I apologize, but I love Mike Tyson. He could be a rapist, and he beat up old women for their purses when he was younger, but he represents everything right and wrong in our country.

This is a guy that took the back door to being part of the elite rich, and wealthy. Yet, he came out on top completely soiled from the back door. A kid that had the talent to beat other human beings into bolivian (sic) and............well, that's it. No moral values except the ones from learning how to survive on the streets. The wrong people around him, and all the money in the world. He did what most of us would want to do if we didn't have any logic to see the inevitable. Spend all the money, and enjoy as many women as possible. Sorry, I'm just being honest. Monogamy is wonderful, but if everyone wanted a piece of you, who in their right mind wouldn't want to satisfy.

Anyways, I bet Mike is really both a rapist, and a loving teddy bear. Yes, I believe that is possible. He seems to be a little bit more humble now that he lost everything, and one of my favorite quotes from him was, "Real freedom is having nothing. I was freer when I didn't have a cent. Do you know what I do sometimes? Put on a ski mask and dress in old clothes, go out on the streets and beg for quarters." This man was not supposed to be given the luxury to do what he wants. It just sorta happened. You think I'm crazy for liking Mike Tyson, don't you? Well, you probably have met a murderer you liked and didn't even know it.

I'd probably lose that argument if you started one with me on that, but regardless, Tyson is fighting a big Irish guy named Kevin McBride, and I think it's either going to be a long brawl with Tyson possibly loosing, or Mike will chop the body, and get him with one big shot upstairs. We'll see. He told McBride at the weigh in that, "I'm going to gut you like a fish." Should be fun, and I only had to renegotiate my relationship with "A" for an hour. For anyone who cares, I found a couple sites with a chronology of Tyson time lines and quotes here and here. I love when he talks. Just absolute insanity. Wonder what he'll say tonight. Wasn't Punch Out the best? I remember actually being scared when I fought him in the game, and I never beat him. I could only imagine in real life.

I Love Snoopy Dammit

I have eighteen million things I want to post, so I thought I would just give up and post up Snoopy. Why? I love him. I really mean that. His laugh makes me so happy. I mean, who does the voice to that laugh and how? "Ha ha, ho ho", that's the friggin' best! Plus, Snoopy reminds me of my fiance "A". So, yeah. I love Snoopy. If he or she was real, I'd kiss his or her ears, and nose, and lips. Right on the kisser.

I'm Hearing Leprechaun Whispers

Paul Pierce may be on his way out, again!

So let's face it. It has got to happen at some point, I guess. In reality, If I was Paul Pierce, I would want to stay because of all the young talent on the team. But I have no idea what any of these people are thinking so I'll just post what I know.

Isn't this time of the season fun? Not only is the Finals when the NBA gets to choose their champion, but it's also a time of year when the speculation of trades runs rampant and draft hopefuls can watch their stock rise and fall on a daily basis. Portland and Boston have been rumored to be talking about a potential Paul Pierce trade for awhile now, but it was thought Portland didn't have enough of what the Celtics wanted to get a deal done.

Well, if you listen to today's rumors you'll find that maybe Portland has exactly what the Celtics want. Various media reports today said Portland and Boston are discussing a trade of Portland's #3 pick and the voidable contract of Nick Van Exel for Pierce and Boston's #18 pick.
Blazer fans would probably like to take take the sure thing in Paul Pierce.

Some have also questioned Pierce's abilities as a leader - well, the truth is The Truth doesn't want to be the vocal leader. He's tried, as he did when Antoine Walker left, and while he gamely made his attempt it wasn't him. But don't the Blazers need a leader? Yes, they do, but I think in 2005-06 you are going to see Sebastian Telfair take control of that leader role without needing too much help. Pierce can be the second voice, the affirmations of the leader who is leading naturally by choice, but he doesn't have to be on top. That will also allow him to relax and concentrate more on his game. In Boston he still feels like everyone is leaning on Paul Pierce to make things happen. In Portland he could become one of the guys. Which has got to be tough to swallow for Pierce. Who likes to say, "I can't do it on my own."

The safe guess is that the Celtics will go for Gerald Green with the number three pick. Which is as good a chance of getting him as there is. Ohhhhhhh, I'm sweating thinking about this. His name will say Green on the back of a green Celtics jersey. Isn't that cool? (yes I know I'm a dork) Plus there is talk that the C's will go after some free agents with the 10$ million freed up from the trade. I heard some talk of maybe getting Stromile Swift too. I'm about to collapse.

So what are the chances of this deal going down? Well, Celtics' trader Danny Ainge has said he has no plans to trade Pierce, but every time he says it I start to think it's more and more smoke and mirrors. Portland hasn't commented on this rumor, but why should they? People know that #3 pick can be had and Nick Van Exel is being dangled everywhere, so they don't need to say a word.

Would Boston give Pierce away for so little - is Tony Allen that good?
If I'm John Nash and this deal got thrown on the table I'd agree to it before the Celtics had time to re-think it. Probability of this happening? Same as with most rumors - I'd say no better than a one in three chance, if that.

Majority of this written By Jason Flemingfor HOOPSWORLD.comJun 8, 2005, 17:53

Fake Bullet Proof Vests? Only Cool Kids Allowed.

Are You intimidated by a guy with a denim bullet proof vest, with pockets on the front? Boy I hope not.


I think it started with my generation, but the next generation is even more retarded! It must send an instant message that you have rocks in your head, even to a true street thug. Not just you local suburbanite. No, no, really.....You can be cool as long as you spend 89$ and show that you have never been shot at in your life.

In the Boston Metro, Pamela Grant was quoted saying, "A lot of people in sets [gangs] wear them." That's even more pathetic. Kids who are really getting shot at are wearing fake vests!? I think I'd hit the Army Navy store and pay 50$ for the real thing. "What these "sets" should be setting up, is a savings account for when social security runs out.", Beo said.

Co-owner of Hip Zepi USA, a blood sucking leach to ignorant hip-hop fascinated youth said, "We've sold 65 in two weeks. It's not just the gang members. It's Spanish kids, white kids. It's kids that want to look like a thug." Dude! Is there a sign up sheet for this. I have to look like a thug as soon as possible.

Oh, and for any homosexual thugs. You can get the vest in any assortment of colors, and styles. Such as, lambskin leather, durable nylon, and quality denim. Oh the choices, and soon to be on the shelves is the "almost out of style, but lets bring it out again" camouflage. Hooray.

The government should set up a war time law that sends anyone caught with one of these vest on, and found guilty of a crime, straight to Iraq where they can put it to use. See if foreign insurgents run from the style and quality of premium leather, and denim. They can strut their "thug" sex appeal through a sand storm at night, when they try to find a way out of the country.

It really is just an absolute joke, and unfortunately, the vast majority of youth in America see this as a fashion statement. When it really represents a symbol of the troubles they're going to have, when it's time to face the real world.

Rob Brown "Air Guitar" Fame Watch

I will continually update the site with posts to links of Robs bizarre journey of "Air Guitar" fame. He got calls from local newspapers throughout the weekend, and I totally expected to see something this morning. Obviously, I am starting to loose my sense with reality when I got upset that there was nothing in the papers. He was just currently posted on airguitarusa.com though.

The National people for the competition asked him what he wanted his nickname to be, since all the other winners had nicknames.

Rob says, "I don't know, how about Rob "Pile of Sh@t" Brown?"

Air Guitar Publicist says, "We'll just put up Rob Brown."

Sometimes I Really Hate Myself

Sometimes,.....Beo would love to kick his own ass.

I just feel like a big jerk, ballbag. I am blessed to have a lot of good things going in my life. I enjoy my job. I have a fiance. I have some nice possessions that actually own me, rather than me owning it. I have good friends. I now have wonderful parents since I moved out a couple of years ago. Sometimes I feel like it could never get any better than right now. Everything is grand, and I am going to school and getting good grades in college. I work out regularly and have my body in good enough shape, that I only have to work out once, twice weekly to keep it that way.

But then there is this sadistic, narcissistic, aggressive, and sarcastic a-hole inside of all that. I only stopped because I thought the sentence was getting long. I am so totally sweet and sour it's maddening. I can be loving, and caring of all creatures and things. The next minute, I can find myself caring of only myself. I'm running into a problem where I get overly frustrated with my fiance "A" absent mindedness. The poor girl just forgets what she was going to say or do sometimes, and it drives me crazy, so I wind up saying something sarcastic, or just walking away all together, and it hurts her feelings. Then I apologize and it happens again somewhere down the line. Just ridiculous, and I'm all out of apologies. It all stems from my upbringing. My Father instilled power of self and how to think quickly, and I was in sports most of the time as that teaches discipline as well. So, I expect everything to happen a certain way. Even when I know life doesn't work that way.

I want to wash it off. All my frustration, and all the bad things about me. It's not fair to anyone else. I want to see my Mother more often. I'm lucky to even have her still here on this Earth. I need to see my nieces and nephews more often. They are growing up so quick and I'm constantly thinking about how I'm missing everything.

So many things start to pile up that I just want to lay down where I stand and cry. It's so hard to be perfect, yet it's what I strive for. I'm realistic about it. I know I can't be perfect, but I try to get as close as possible.

Right now, I feel far from it. Painfully far from it. Laying on my back far from it. I just want, and I want everyone around me to be happy. If I could have that, I honestly wouldn't ask for anything else in the world. Just plain old happiness.

Rob Brown is "Air Guitar Champion" of Boston?

Holy crap dude, I wish I was kidding.
Robdeadskin from The Human Train Wreck is the "Air Guitar Champion" of Boston.....You have no idea what havoc this stupid, horrific, hilarious, mind numbing event was.

The last post talked about the show, and to make a long story short. I forgot I left my license with at a friends house a few days ago. So I called to make sure I could get in the bar to watch the Air Guitarist play. They said I couldn't get in without and i.d. So I was screwed and "A" and I were supposed to pick up Rob. He said he had called the guy and he was now in the event. "You entered dude!", I asked. "Yeah, I've got to find a song and burn it and let him no the placement, blah, blah, blah!", Rob was actually going to do this. This guy is awesome!

So we said we'd pick him up, and I had full intentions to definitely get into this place hopefully somehow. "A" had changed her mind about going at least four times. So the night already feels like it's getting out of control.

We get there about a half an hour before it starts, and we rehearsed a God damn Slayer song solo that Rob was going to air guitar too, at least like ten times to make sure he got it right. He was ready by the time we pulled up to Harper's Ferry in Allston, and also pretty smashed to boot. So he's already starting to act like an animal.

I run up to the bouncers and the first thing that they noticed was that Rob didn't have any sleeves. He had a death metal shirt on with arm holes. I guess that's against the rules, but they let him in anyways. I told the guy my license situation in total honesty, and he let me in as well. "A" was in the car, so I went back out and got a parking spot with her, which I got by asking a cook in the back of a restaurant if we could take a spot behind the building (there is hardly ever parking in that part of Allston, always packed). He let us park there, and then we entered. We hung and watched a real band play before the Air Guitarists. They were good, and then it was time. Rob is about eight deep right about now, and spitting every time I say something that makes him laugh. Which is about as constantly as possible, because it amuses me to see him spitting everywhere.

The first dude went up and he was just horrible. It was akin to watching your brother jam out in your bedroom in his boxers. Just a total jackass. The judges can vote on a scale of 4.0 - 6.0. They gave the first guy all 4.0's, basically saying he sucked. But all these people suck, because they're playing fricken' Air Guitar for Christ sakes! HA ha ha. Then my hommie, Robrizown, hits the stage as the second contestant. Knocking beer bottles on his way up to the stage he is totally shitfaced, yet everybody in the crowd was drinking too and enjoying themselves, so no one knew what horrifically funny events were about to unfold. I wasn't even prepared. But most of the contestants were college kids and none of them were as unique and genuinely scarred by society as Rob Brown. We had an animal about to be released on the general public in T-7 seconds. Rob stumbles to the mic with both hands, in air and lock in the devil horns sign.

This occurred in front of at least 70-80 people -

Robdeadskin - "YEAH! F@#*$ SLAYER!"

The music guys start the Slayer song he rehearsed in the car about four seconds to far into the solo, which instantly throws everything off for him. At that point though, Rob was going to do a solo, whether there was music or not. He is out of his mind.

He catches up to the solo and instantly starts whirlwinding his 12 inch long hair around. Fingers going a million miles a minute on an Air Guitar, to a song he has been playing for real since the 9th grade. He plays the solo fine and immediately after it ends, he begins to scream at the sound stage when his 60 seconds were up. I thought he was just dropping a bunch of F bombs, but he was screaming at the sound guys for screwing up the song. So he walks to the edge of the stage shaking his fist in the air, and screaming as he looses his balance; grabs the mic stand; and effing falls off the stage onto people, and about sixteen beer bottles.

I thought one of the beer bottles might have possibly broken, and punctured his neck. It had to be the most funniest thing I have ever seen, in quite some time. Rob pretty much ended the night before it even started. The friggin' guy took a digger off stage and the crowd was loving it! Everyone was in absolute shock. The judges all gave him 6.0's. One judge ended with saying, "That kid must sh@t iron ore." It was total, drug-out, rock start material. You really had to see it to believe it.

It was about 11:30 pm and I was glad to just get in to see Rob since I didn't have my license on me, and I wanted to get home. I had had enough, and I thought I saw the best part of the night. I may never live long enough to get over the regret of not staying.

Rob was chosen as one of the last finalist of the group, and had to perform a Van Hallen air guitar solo. I've been told the crowd chanted, "SLAYER, SLAYER, SLAYER, SLAYER!", the entire time though Rob's solo. He did a mock stage fall because of crowd demand to upstage his last one. Rob said it wasn't as good as the first one, but he also said he didn't really remember it!

He won first place and has a full round trip paid, to go to L.A. for the Air Guitar Championship Finals. He said some girls hit on him, and wanted him to stay longer. He said the people that were paying for his trip let him know that they can get him whatever accommodations he may require during his stay in L.A.. Including any drugs he may like to do. I think he said he goes to Sweden if he wins the one in L.A.

This is what can happen, if you enter an Air Guitar Championship.


Maybe I spoke to soon when I said, "God forgets some of his children?"

A Dead "S" Sunny Afternoon

Dead "S" came over and let me in on a site you may, or may not have already seen. It a deal where you challenge the intellect of Vader with a series of questions he asks you. Pretty cool, and funny.

Tonight I'm wasting 10$ for some good unintentional comedy by going into Allston to see an "Air Guitar Championship". Just an absolutely idiotic event. The freaks will be out, and I'm hoping the laughs will be hard since I invited Robdeadskin and suckered "A" into going. I gave Robskin the number to enter and compete if he wants because he'd love to be apart of something this stupid. It's the type of guy he is. God bless him. I think he'll wuss out though.

I love when people make a fool. I love when I go to bars and they have a karaoke night, and I have to stop myself from soiling myself.

Oxygen Information

So I got to go to the Sox game tonight and it was nice. One of my directors at work offered me two tickets so "A" and I went. I had two big middle aged dudes next to me that almost started a fight with a guy because he wore a Dallas Cowboys hat. Saying, "Couldn't you wear any other kind of hat?!?!" Inexplicable. We all had a great time and "A" and I had an awesome time.

We were right underneath the Handckock video board. Couldn't even see the face of it so it gave the game a 1900's appeal. I swear they should put a Jumbotron above the Fenway Park facade. But I thought it made it better, whatever. Best parts, we gave Orlando Cabrera a standing ovation when he got to the plate, and Damon won it with a lazer to center; and the two dudes beside me. Sox 7 Angels 4.

It could be useful now and then to check the air quality in your area. Not for any reason except to be safe. I thought of it when I saw people jogging for exercise around the streets of Boston. I thought how terrible that must be for the lungs. Then on the train ride home I was reading "A"'s yoga women's health magazine with her, and that very question came up in an article that talked about it, and said you should check this web site.

The Fiance Asked Me to Stop...ah.....

"A" says that my constant masturbating is making her feel less special.


First I'll start with apologizing for the openness of my blog. I can understand if you find it unnecessary and immature. I have tried to keep this as anonymous as possible, but I think people I know at work are scheming and looking into temporary internet files to find my site, and this project has taken on a new level of paranoia. It's my own fault because I like to listen to the music on my site while I am at work, and my co-workers are like, "Cool, how are you listening to that song?"

Beo's reaction, "Oh nothing,......what........nothing,......what do you need?"

But I really wanted to be raw on this and just let all my humanity hang out because I find it therapeutic, and to be truthful I talk about the same stuff to my friends in front of my fiance "A". So I am not a big jerk, I am just painfully truthful because I think that honesty is best no matter what the circumstance. It is a blessing and a curse. Those who know me appreciate it though, I think. Anyways, back to the painfully personal story.

I masturbate probably on average, twice a day. No matter what, flu, pneumonia, ebola. I have always been like this since the incomprehensible age of four when I used to term it, "Pushing the bed." You can stop reading now if you'd like to, I would totally understand.

I made my fiance "A" well aware of my over-sexuality on our second date, just because the topic arose somehow. She seemed girlishly excited about it and said it was okay. Then we moved in together after a few months of dating. One of the first night I had gotten back from the gym and "A" was watching a favorite show of hers, so I sat down in front of the computer after a shower and began doing what men enjoying doing.

Then "A" flew in with a question to ask me, and looked as if she had just found Hitler's body. I stared back at her while I continued to do what, well......whatever because I am totally comfortable with my body in front of anyone. I guess I'm just lucky in that respect. I like my body and I am a guy who likes to feel sexy. I don't think that makes me gay at all. The human body is a beautiful thing, and I think anyone who doesn't enjoy their body, has to at some time in their life. I'm loosing my point though.

"A" runs away back to her television show and I greet her some time later and ask if she is okay.

"A" - "I've just never had anyone just do that like that in front of me."
Beo - "Are you okay with it. It makes me happy, and I promise not to be mad if I catch you."
"A" - "No, it's fine. I'm just used to ex-boyfriends hiding it from me."
Beo - ""A", I don't hide anything. I can honestly promise you that. Okay?"
"A" - "Alright, I can get used to it I think."
Beo - "You can always stop me if you'd like. I'd much rather be with you."
"A" - "I just like it more special and romantic."
Beo - "Babes, I do too! I like it every way." - I'm a romantic aren't I. :(

So whatever, I don't think we made any headway with that conversation about 2 years ago and "A" and I have encounters like married people now. Once a week, or maybe twice and it seems to always have to be set up right, and special. Whereas, I like spontaneity.

So we have discussed this a lot and are working on it and then "A" hit me with this one.

"A" - "Your constant masturbating is making me feel unneeded."
Beo - "Well, what do you want me to do? You want me to stop?"
"A" - "Yeah, maybe for a little while?"
Beo - "Fine, but it seems unfair that I have to stop doing something I've been doing all my life."
"A" - "I'm sorry."

Yikes, right? So I haven't masturbated in 4 days and just the keyboard swivel arm under my desk at work excites me. This is so hard, and I am so "H" for "A" and unfortunately every other female creature on the planet. I wish I could extract the testosterone from my blood or something.

So, I figured that things would be changing but the last few nights I have encountered "A" and she is understandably tired from work and she does yoga right when we get home. I try to put on a little game and encounter her after she is done and this is what I get from her.

"A" - "Oh honey, I love you but I'm just not in the mood."
Beo - "I love you too babes. (anger building.......not showing it though)
"A" - "You can have your way with me though, and just do your thing."
Beo -"That's no fun. I want you to enjoy it too. I love seeing you happy."
"A" - "Well, then wait for when it's good for me."
Beo - "Alright."

Should have just taken the "Have your way with me" pass. Damn it.

I want a sex animal, but I have a Princess. I wouldn't want to trade "A" for anything in the World. I really do love her so much. But in this respect, we don't match up. But we're working on it. You're never reading my blog again, are you.