thom day is back

I feed the spark and it becomes a flame,
I feed the flame and it becomes a fire,
I feed the fire and it becomes a roaring blaze.

Cus D’Amato

_______________

My Downfall

Terrific Theme Music (If You Want It)

My body wanted to shut down for the day. No such luck. Every day spent in Bangkok at this point is a day defined by waste. Money. Energy. Time. And seeing as how the Top King store at Lumphini is closed on Sundays, I had to get there today. No questions asked. I was notified by the factory that the store would be open until 5, so figuring in the hour walk to Hua Lamphong, the fairly short subway ride, and a rough estimate of how long it would take me to randomly walk around the Lumphini Park area in search of, I figured it best to leave no later than noon. Off to bed I went.

Up at 11, weary but not undone. Right about the 40 hour mark in terms of fasting. Nothing but water and Gatorade. I gain my senses, shower, and gear up. I anticipated a fairly long day of walking in the heat, but other factors had to be considered as well. Mainly, the amount of cash I’d be carrying. While not astronomical by any stretch, I’d prefer to not have a couple hundred dollars sitting in the roomy pockets of my cotton traveling shorts. I opted to put my Thai taxi driver fashion to good use, and threw on the zip-up nylon vest I picked up in Phuket for 50 baht. Pockets with zippers. Cash went into the vest, iPod and video camera in the shorts. Warmer, yes. But necessary.

The clock strikes noon and off I go. I head downstairs and as I hit the ground floor I immediately notice that there is an emergency exit that doesn’t appear to be functioning properly. Common sense would dictate that such a thing should remain closed at all times, to be opened and used only when necessary, but that didn’t seem to be the case today. At some point it was left ajar, and the end result was entertaining to say the least: a dirty bum. This devilish gent must have snuck in without anyone noticing, and was causing a bit of a ruckus for sure. Entertaining, but I don’t have time for entertainment. My feet strike pavement and off I go. I walk.

I detour into 7-11 to grab myself a water to officially get the party started. I typically buy Cooly Fresh water. It hits all the best reference points: The Asian dudes referring to Leroy as a coolie in The Last Dragon. Cooley from Don’s Party. And of course Coolie High, and Cooliehighharmony from Camp Lo and Boyz II Men respectively. I give the Bangkok Post a quick perusal to update myself on the latest Red Shirt antics. Nothing much to see. I get some international sports info, and a photograph from the EPI Canal explosion in some country I’ve never heard of. Another typical day.

Next stop: train station. Things remain ordinary but weird as ever. The first half of the journey is pretty standardly defined by a series of random storefronts. The second half gets a bit more interesting as you have a fair amount of street vendors on one side, and the river and market on the other. Much more hectic. I’ve never really spent much time looking through this particular market area. It appears to be just like the majority of others I’ve come across everywhere else. If you’re looking for poor quality clothing you’re in the right place. If you’re in the market for hefty souvenirs that seem ridiculously nonsensical to pack you’ve found the spot. And if you’re searching for an album leak from your favorite artist, then right this very moment there’s no place on Earth you’d rather be. Trust me. I have no need for any of the above. I skip the market.

I get to the main intersection about a kilometer from the train station. You can cross the street at this point but there is a pedestrian walkway that you can walk over that makes things a lot simpler. Up the steps we go. Two departures from the norm here today. First, some Army presence is situated up top. One armed soldier looking down the road in each direction. That’s a new one. I figure there must be some Red Shirt action in the area. Next. Moving along, I head down the steps on the other side of the road. Normally some random person wouldn’t register with me but when I come around the corner, a guy carrying a basket case of some sort walks past. I’m drawn to the graphic on his shirt. It has some tropical looking picture and reads the following: ‘Welcome to paradise. It’s a long view.’ What the shit is that supposed to mean? As quickly as I tried to sort out that mysterious riddle it was just as quickly forgotten. However, in a moment of divine discovery later in the day the likely answer hit me like a flash flood. I was impressed with myself to say the least.

Second detour. 7-11 again. You can only walk so far without getting another drink. Now’s the time. I have a bit of a debate with myself over getting another water, or an iced tea this time. I don’t really feel that having iced tea is all that much better than drinking soda, so I try to keep that to a minimum. I give it about a minute’s thought, ultimately deciding that it’s truly a fickle matter that I’m dealing with here. I grab an iced tea.

Ten minutes from the train station. Making good time. Not feeling nearly as sick as the day before. All in all doing pretty well. I take a lovely sip of my lemon iced tea, look down to grab my iPod out of pocket, and notice stark evidence of my being an unobservant clumsy fool. I’ve spilled iced tea almost directly on my crotch. Didn’t even notice. Smooth. On the lucky side, the stain is fairly high up in the dick region, so to the outside observer I would appear like a dirty idiot, and not someone who peed himself. Still, I really don’t fancy walking around for the rest of the day with a silver dollar pancake-sized stain on my shorts for all to see. I then make a decision. There’s no way that I’m that clueless to my surroundings that I don’t even notice when I pour a drink on myself. It was fucking Bangkok. I had leaned against the counter when I paid for the drink. Obviously, there must have been some crap on the counter and I chose to grind away on it like Elizabeth Berkeley. For some insane reason I then deem it appropriate to rub my finger on the sour patch so I can log the smell into Evidence. Inconclusive. Just smells like Bangkok to be honest. Whatever. Next decision is made. Find a bathroom at the train station and try to diminish the appearance a bit with some water and elbow grease. All in a day’s work.

Train station. Down the escalator. Through the metal detector. They’ve got a sizable fan set up down there to help cool off the guard at the entrance so I head over and lean in for a good ten seconds or so to try to cool off. Slightly helpful. During the long walk down the hallway to the ticket machines an older guy and a young lady walk by me on my left. She gives me the old peek over. All good. Then a second peek over. No doubt. Then a third and a fourth. Not the first time that’s happened out here. And it won’t be the last. I grab a token for 18 baht and hop onto the train just before it leaves. Nice.

Pretty full car. I sit next to an older foreign couple and a Thai lady. It’s only two stops over to the park but it’s definitely nice to rest the legs a bit. I enjoy the ride. Uneventful.

Off the train and outside we go. I saw what appeared to be Lumphini Park directly across the street in front of me but I really couldn’t tell. All I could see were piles of random junk and stuff strewn about near the sidewalk as a makeshift fencing system. Tires. Wood. Junk. It looked like someone just took a dump and put it exactly where it didn’t belong. I could hear shouting over loudspeakers so it’s probably safe to assume that was some Red Shirt activity going on over there. I never got over to take a look. I was searching for the stadium. I of course had never actually done any research to figure out where that is in relation to the park, or for that matter, if it’s even anywhere near the park. I just connected the dots with the name and all. Genius work. No flaws in that plan.

I walked about 15 minutes down the side of the park until it ended at an intersection. No stadium in sight. I did come across a rather sizable night market instead. Fair enough. Another place to head to after grabbing my equipment and possibly watching some fights at the stadium. Make a night of it. I consult a map of the night market, and lo and behold, there’s Lumphini Stadium. About five minutes away. I scoot around the corner in my newly discovered direction. Now we’re talking. I see two small stores with heaps of muay thai shorts on display. I see a Twins store laden with goods and directly next door to that, the Top King store. Finally. Here it is. I check the time and it’s still just before two. Perfect. Since the store closes at 5 everyday I’ve got plenty of time to look around the area and still get back over there. I walk on another five minutes or so to grab myself another Cooly Fresh. Need to refuel before the shopping adventure. Consider it grabbed. I head around the corner, sit down on a little concrete bench, and crack open my water. This is it. Last few days in Bangkok. Lumphini Stadium. Time to make some of the more important purchases of the trip. A truly big moment. I sip my water and relax. And that’s when it happens.

Concrete bench. Minding my own business. A half empty bottle of Cooly Fresh sitting by my side. I take my eyes off of the street in front of me for no more than five seconds and that was all that was needed: I get bum rushed.

Allow me to slow things down a bit. Let’s break these five seconds down. One. I tire of watching the street hustle, glance down at my shorts and give some more thought to this ridiculous stain. The fact that I’m shopping in an area flush with muay thai shorts gives me relief. I’m going to buy a pair anyway, so when I find them I’ll just wear them home. There’s an easy solution. Two. That idea is quickly followed by another. Upon closer inspection, the affected area wouldn’t be described as massive and I wonder to myself if it had soaked completely through to the other side. If not, I could just flip the shorts inside out and wear them that way. Not bad. I like that idea. Three. I lift up the front of my shorts so I can take a look at the inside and assess the situation. No luck to be found here. The stain clearly had made it’s way through to the other side just as prominently. Fair enough. As if that wasn’t enough already, the stain had soaked through and spread itself onto my lovely fake Ed Hardy briefs. My secretly held hope of finishing my shopping, wearing underwear only, went out the window. Four. Another delicious sip of water. A quick peek around the surrounding area yields nothing of note. I start to tie my shorts so I can gather myself and get back to the matter at hand. I take another perfunctory glance at my once pristine shorts and briefs so as to give myself a chuckle and move on. Five. At this very moment two things happen. First, my body is stunned into a state of suspension from some invisible outside source. Simultaneously, my thinking becomes clear, focused, and sharpened into a deadly point. Second, I look up as if in perpetual slow motion and realized what it was that had hit me. A simple fact. Iced tea. 7-11. I think not. I shit my pants.

Oh yes. You heard me correctly the first time. I shat myself. Can I make that clearer? More detailed? Perhaps. Let’s see. I shit inside my pants while walking around a major city. And then walked around completely unaware for nearly two hours. Yes. Unaware. Of pooping. Fucking pooping. What was the key piece of evidence that solved this mystery you wonder? I didn’t mention it back there for storytelling purposes but during the four second mark, that briefs stain looked a bit odd to me, so I investigated further. I grabbed the crotch of my shorts and pulled up so as to get a decent view of the back which had never occurred to me to check before. How did I describe the size of that front stain again? Now I recall, a silver dollar pancake. So, how shall I describe the now obviously there stain that I discovered on the back of my shorts then? Sticking with the pancake theme, if you’ve ever seen the wonderful family film Uncle Buck the answer should be clear. If not, let’s just say a frisbee.

I feel at this point there is most likely going to be a pretty standard thought echoing in the mind of the reader. Something along the lines of ‘How could you seriously crap yourself and not even know it? Surely you must have noticed something?’. Well to be fair, it wasn’t entirely my fault. And don’t call me Shirley. There’s no reason to get gross with details here so I’ll keep all of that to a minimum. After leaving the guesthouse and starting my journey I was feeling okay, but still a little sick. I didn’t get into detail earlier on this, but hours before leaving for the nearly 20 hours of travel to get to Bangkok I woke up feeling quite ill. I decided to push through so as not to mess with my schedule. The same rule applied when I arrived in Bangkok. I famously challenged my sickness on Facebook by saying ‘Do you worst, for I will do mine’. Apparently its worst was to make me go number two in my pants, and mine was to walk around treating it like treasure. Back to the point, about 15 minutes into walking I felt a harsh rumble in my tummy that was most certainly not related to a lack of honey. Unwritten rule for when you have a rumbly tumbly. Don’t fart. I didn’t choose to. My body did. So I embraced it. All seemed fine. For a second I was a bit worried because something did feel a tiny bit off, but I just attributed it to the Bangkok heat. As I’ve stated before, that’s just how it works out here. Five minutes after you leave the house your underwear is soaked with sweat. So if somebody happens to throw some food coloring down the back of your pants how are you supposed to know? Exactly. I rest my case.

Back on the concrete bench, lots was taking place. A Usual Suspects-style montage of things that I had previously seen in one light, but now in a much clearer one. For instance, the young woman walking along side of me in the entrance to the train station. Probably not so intrigued by the good looking foreigner as we had all assumed earlier. More likely fascinated by the guy who smooshed a UPS delivery inside of his trousers and was still willing to bend over for some fresh fan air with no regard to hiding it. Or the older gentleman from that couple on the side of me on the train itself. When he started holding his nose for no apparent reason I thought to myself, ‘What’s the deal with this dude? I don’t smell a thing.’ Precious. I start to ponder whether it’s bad etiquette to try on muay thai shorts given the current circumstances. I feel like it just may be. Shopping trip over. Now on to other important matters. I’ve somehow chosen to discover this wonderful situation over an hour away from home. It’s fairly irrelevant at this point but I’d still prefer to not have to travel home with my ass looking like a used coffee filter for all to see. Wait a second. I’m rocking the taxi vest. Off comes the vest, and off comes the t-shirt. The vest goes back on sans shirt giving me a bit of a Joe Piscopo ‘Karate Kid’ type thing going on and the shirt gets tucked into the shorts and hung down the back. Just like MacGyver would do it. If he shit himself. I start my walk back to the train station, passing each muay thai store along the way. Unfortunate. Life on life’s terms.

I get off the train at Hua Lamphong and start my one hour walk back to the guesthouse. Many may question my decision to not just pay the less than $3 price of a tuk-tuk ride home, but fuck that. I shit my bed, I’ll lie in it. Besides, how many chances are you going to get in life to have such an experience? As many as you wanted I suppose, but that would just be forced. This is legit. So I walked home. Head held high. Wearing my ultra thin 100 baht Ed Hardy man diaper. It was a good day. The end.

Epilogue:

I’ve had a few different people question some of the things I’ve been putting on the site lately, feeling as though my honesty put them in a less than stellar light. Perhaps they have been avenged here. After this incident took place, I did in fact head home, shower, and take a quick rest. I then went right back. I didn’t get to Lumphini until well after 5 of course, but I didn’t come all this way to let some dirty shorts get in the way of my plans. As it turns out, since Saturday night is a fight night at the stadium, the stores stay open late. So I was still able to hunt through each store. Unfortunately, the equipment search was as difficult there as it has been everywhere else, but that will be a subject for another post. I did get a new pair of shorts though. And I didn’t even poo in them. Yet.

Got back to the guesthouse at around midnight. What a long day. So much to be learned from a day like today. My final lesson though: your iPod’s broken. Out of nowhere. Worked the entire day. I was just using it as I walked home. Decided to check the time and the screen went white. Nothing but. I tried all the usual remedies. None of it worked. This is a huge loss for me. On the bright side, at least I’m not the only one who’s shit himself today. Rest in peace iPod. That should just about cover it for now. Truly. A storied saga, perhaps I shall sleep.

_______________

Puzzle Alert!

Perhaps you noticed. Perhaps you didn’t. Throughout the first half of this enchanting tale, I peppered the narrative with wonderful hidden references to what was about to come. Some are a bit simpler than others to find, but each is equally grand in nature. A couple are a little more abstract and therefore might prove to be more difficult to discover. Those with advanced Word Search skills may find that their experience comes in handy. So, to any adventurous readers, the challenge is afoot. There are 13 specifically hidden references to my ‘incident’ throughout the story. The first twelve all occur in the story prior to the beginning of the five second breakdown. The last was thrown in as a challenging freebie, to get the juices flowing so to speak. In the final sentence of this saga, seven words spoke volumes. Take the first letter from each. Speaks even louder than before. Happy hunting.

I’m leaving for Bangkok tomorrow and may not be able to conjure up some adequate content for the site during my brief stay there. Unless I get hit with a grenade during my visit to the Silom Road area. If this does occur unexpectedly however, do not worry, I’ve already got it covered. I’ve got a post scheduled featuring a lovely slideshow of myself with Michael Damian’s ‘Rock On’ layered tastefully on top of it. In my honor, I’ve got a comment at the ready from Mike that simply states ‘Told you so, Sailor.’ and one from myself that eloquently shouts ‘Pwned!!!’. Then, I got a bit more creative and went with one from my mom that says ‘See you real soon.’ which is initially super heartwarming to all, but then is immediately followed by my dad who replies ‘Where? It’s not like there’s a Heaven’. Real classy dad. Too soon.

_______________

It’s tomorrow now. I woke up this morning feeling quite ill. The show must go on. I’m waiting in Chiang Mai now for the bus to Bangkok. Not nice. I’m too exhausted to write what I was planning to, so I’ll just save that for another, more healthy day. Teaser though. I had my first crack today at a task I do believe I’ve never had the pleasure of attempting before. It seemed necessary. Twice. The second time required a lot more effort. But I made it happen. This second victory gave me enough comfort and energy to come write this in fact. Off I go. Thanks Lifetime movies.

Today brings you the latest installment in our ever popular Facebook Friends series. Today’s episode:
A Statistical Breakdown Of Facebook Friends (The TD Edition)

_______________

Statistical Theme Song

Total Facebook Friends: 100

Male: 50
Female: 50

Note here: Astute observers may be pondering the fact that I made it very clear in my prior post that I was cutting back to 101 friends, but have listed the total here as 100. Well, as I secretly hoped and wished for, after my previous Facebook posting, one friend chose to erase me. I won’t say who it was, but it was a ‘giant’ loss. Yup. It was an ‘abnormally tall’ loss. See what I’m doing there? It was Anna. That leaves one open roster spot for the next female friend. Sweet.

_______________

Original Connecting Source Of Friendship:

Basketball: 13
High School: 13
Burger King: 3
Domino’s: 2
CVS: 2

Total Facebook Friends That I’ve Never Met Before: 1

_______________

Total Friends Met While Traveling: 34

Detailed Country Breakdown Of Travel Friends:

Sweden: 3
Germany: 4
England: 6
Australia: 4
Italy: 1
Poland: 1
Canada: 2
France: 4
Thailand: 3
New Zealand: 2
Korea: 1
Holland: 1
Denmark: 1
Singapore: 1

________________

And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for:
The Detailed Female Friend Breakdown

Total Females: 50
Total Female Family Members: 9
Total Females With Potential For Romantic Liaisons To Ensue: 41

Total Romantically Liaisoned: 4
Total ‘Slept’ With (Only Cuddling): 5
Total Partial Liaisons (Anything Below Going ‘All The Way’): 5
Total Prior Hookups I Expect Will Be Repeated: 7

Notable highlights here:
Only one of my romantic liaisons from prior to my travels actually appears here on Facebook. Doesn’t say much for my reputation in America. Does say much for my reputation everywhere but America, however.
Only one category spot allowed for each female. If we spent many nights as strict cuddle partners, but broke free to hookup on any occasion, you become ineligible for the ‘Slept’ With category.
Amazingly, four out of the five women in the ‘Slept’ With category, all have names that begin with the letter L. Interesting to say the least.

Total Females I Think I Could Have Hooked Up With If The Situation Were Slightly Different: 9
Total Females I Absolutely Could Have Hooked Up With In Exact Situation But Chose Not To: 2
Total From ‘I Think I Could Have/I Absolutely Could Have’ That I Expect I Will Hook Up With In The Future: 6
Total From ‘I Think I Could Have/I Absolutely Could Have’ That I Believe Is A Possible Hook Up In The Future: 4
Total Females That Showed No Obvious Signs Of Being Interested In Hooking Up With Me That I Would Totally Hook Up With If Given The Opportunity: 5
Total Out Of That Five That I Would Immediately Marry Based Solely On Looks Alone: 1

Notable Highlights:
Choosing not to doesn’t make you gay, Dan Terzian. It makes you a Renaissance Man.

Any female who happens to find herself wondering exactly where she falls on this list has many options. If asked, I will happily provide information on placements, and give sound reasoning for said placement. The best possible option anyone can utilize is this: ask me in the comments where I put you and why, and after I confidently and slightly arrogantly go on about how we hooked up, or totally could have hooked up, go back into the comments and diss the shit out of me. For all to see. How great would that be? I’ll tell you how great. Very.

_______________

Made today the first day of training here in Pai. It’s been eight days since my last official day of training due to four days of travel and four days of general disarray. I peppered in some light strength training in the last few days, but nothing crazy so it was definitely the time to get back to a gym. Due to the tiny size of Pai, there is only one gym around, True Bee Muay Thai. Bee is a former Lumpini Champion and that’s about all I know about that. Very simple place. One ring, a bunch of equipment, some heavy bags, and a few weights. Your standard couple of truck tires and loads of skipping ropes round out the place. I head over for the afternoon session, talk to Bee for a few minutes, and get to work. There ended up being about 12 guys or so in the class, maybe half appearing fairly advanced, a few more seeming somewhere in the middle, and a few on the lower scale. Had some jump rope action for about ten minutes or so to warm up, and that was the extent of it. Nothing like the grueling half hour start at Tiger. Did some stretching and followed with about ten minutes solo with one of the trainers. He went through all the basic stuff with me, which went fairly quickly based on my prior experience. Leg kicks were a typical nuisance, but that’s life.

The class was okay. I don’t really have too much to say about it. Not an overwhelming amount of technical instruction to be learned, so my prior knowledge came in pretty handy. The innovative training techniques I read about on the website seemed to consist of getting into the ring with the trainers, hitting pads, and receiving conflicting ideas from each one that not only conflicted with the other trainers, but prior trainers as well. That seems to be pretty typical. Not the worst way to learn I suppose. Kind of a sink or swim approach. I did find parts of it rather humorous though. For instance, we did four rounds of pad work, switching to a different trainer each time. The first trainer goes through some combos with me, and calls for a right knee. I grab his shoulder with my right hand, and blast him with a knee. ‘Where’s your left hand?’ I can hear you asking. Up to protect my face, of course. ‘Two hands’ he says, and instructs me to grab his shoulder with both hands, pull in, and deliver the knee. So I do. I switch trainers when the round is done. ‘Right knee!’ is the instruction. Two hands to the shoulder, throw the knee. ‘No.’ I’m told. He grabs my left hand and puts it up to protect my face. So I switch back to my normal way of throwing the knee. Round ends. Switch trainers. Have you figured out the rest yet? I’ll skip ahead. Next guy tells me to use two hands, this time instructing me to grab the neck with one hand, and the shoulder with the other. Good times. Many variations I suppose. Looks like it’s up to me to figure out when each one is appropriate. Not much of a concern either way. If I choose to not protect my face so as to give myself even more control and power as I blast off my space age knee rocket into your stomach stratosphere, you better throw the sickest punch you have to even come close to giving me the slightest pause in the midst of rupturing your insides. Not to mention the fact that the shoulder control should cause any punches from the opponent to be more bitch-like than normal.

Ultimately I picked up a number of variations in technique over the course of just the four rounds of pad work. Leg kicks from close range without the step forward, switch kick footwork, switch knee footwork, and different foot placement post-leg strike for advancing oneself into a more dominant close range position. I was also given a different trajectory for the elbow strike, and advised on a more erect body posture while throwing said elbows. Very tough to deduce whose technique is more correct. As I said before, each trainer tends to differ on certain things, and trainers from different schools vary things as well. Another example, foot placement on an elbow strike. They were advocating for a straight step toward the opponent for both the right and left elbows. I’ve always been taught otherwise. The right elbow requires you to step forward and to your left a bit, while the left calls for the straight step forward. Subtle difference but similar to football, this is a game of inches. But here, this refers more to the life that I will beat you to within inches of. A lot of my knowledge base is going to come from what I’ve already learned, what I observe from actual Muay Thai and MMA fights, and from instructional videos and books that I collect. I will then review each, and synthesize the relevant information to be stored deep within my mind grapes.

Parting note: My left leg kicks were pretty off for some reason but my right leg kicks had some improvement, I feel. I had to kick a shitload of pads and as expected, my leg was hella bruised yesterday. I also have a reasonable foot bruise which is new. I tried to get a good photo but it’s pretty difficult to get the proper lighting to really highlight the awesomeness. We did clinch work to finish out the session and I have to say, it was not beginner level by any stretch of the imagination. At Tiger it was more technical breakdown, and light clinch sparring to work on technique. Here it was full on Crank Dat Souljah Boy. Except in this case, it was not You understood who was doing the cranking, it was some stocky Italian dude. And ‘Dat Souljah Boy’? It was my neck. Oh, and crank dat he did. I held my own somewhat, but that was full on neck rape. That should equal a good couple of days of stiffness. But unlike that boner you had about 14 years ago that for some reason just would not go down no matter what, you can’t just fill up a 32 oz. cup with water and submerge your neck in it hoping for the stiffness to subside. You just have to ride it out. Which by the way, if that were an option 14 years ago, that whole cup business might not have been necessary. And for those in any way still following this train of thought, that was the only cup that was handy. 32 oz. was in no way a size requirement.

Final note: Last class at Tiger before leaving Phuket. 300 sit-ups and 100 push-ups at the end of the workout. Done and done. Yesterday’s ceiling becomes today’s floor.

“Oh… Oh… Oh!” You know what I’m talkin’ about. “Oh!”

_______________

Due to technical difficulties beyond my control, today’s planned programming is unable to appear in this slot and will be on temporary hiatus. No loss to anyone really. Only I knew what it was supposed to be anyway. In it’s place, I created a rapidly thrown together Top 5 list for those who think they deserve the pleasure.

_______________

Today’s Top Five Videos That Make The TD Chuckle

5. My Brother Was Optimistic It Could Be Done

I mean, I guess it would just be a guy who you know, grabs bananas and runs. Or, um, a banana that grabs things. I don’t know why. Why would a banana grab another banana? I mean, those are the kind of questions I don’t want to answer.

The TD concurs.

Get the Flash Player to see this player.

_______________

4. The TD Wants To Be Clear As Well. Exactly What He Said.

Glee is back. Oh, you heard the TD correctly. Glee is back! The TD hasn’t watched it yet though. The TD has been saving it for a special occasion. You know what that means. In between the LXD and UFC videos, the gaps shall be filled. Speaking of which. How about that Rachel Berry? That’s one gap I wouldn’t mind filling. I mean the TD wouldn’t mind filling. Ah fuck it. The both of us.

Get the Flash Player to see this player.

_______________

3. Macho Man Joe Rogan

The TD is watching WEC 48. It’s literally just minutes into the telecast. And Joe Rogan does this. If this isn’t the best inadvertent Macho Man ever, the TD doesn’t know what is.

Get the Flash Player to see this player.

_______________

2. The Return Of Jean Ralphio. Flush With Laughs.

You can only go so long in life without a little Jean Ralphio. Good thing the TD is here to take care of all your needs. You can thank the TD later.

Get the Flash Player to see this player.

_______________

1. I Would Totally Fork That Girl On The Left. If She Didn’t Have A Boyfriend, And I Was In Miami, I’d Go Right Over And…. Oh, Gotta Run! I Think My Trainer Is Calling Me. Something About A Beautiful Girl… I Mean Leg Kicks. Yeah, That Was It. Leg Kicks.

Get the Flash Player to see this player.

_______________

We all knew that this day was coming. More LXD. I’ve had to make a pretty difficult decision here in choosing which video is to appear next. I’ve got the video from TED.com which is in depth and amazing. It gives some background on the LXD concept, some short features on a few of the dancers, and perhaps the most interesting group performance of the bunch. This video is over 15 minutes long however, and I wanted something shorter. So I’m opting to put two short videos up instead. These are both trailers for the upcoming LXD web series. Short, sweet, and spellbinding. Consider yourselves warned.

_______________

_______________

About a month or so back, I decided that I had way too many Facebook friends. I was over 150. Come on now, 150 people? That’s just silly. How could I possibly care to know what that many people are up to? At any given moment, I barely even remember that more than a core group of about 20 people exist. So I made the call to cut down to an even hundred. And keep it that way. That seemed like the money spot. I uttered the now classic line ‘See ya! Wouldn’t wanna FB ya!’ and went about my business. I dropped about 30 people or so without much trouble and all was going just fine until I hit the wall. Another 30 or so to go and I felt like I had made most of the possible cuts. I decided to leave things there.

Until the other day. Then it hit me. I was being a bitch. I could cut that list to 50 if I wanted to. 100 is a breeze. So I set about my work once again. I got down to 110 within minutes. It wasn’t until the final few that I had to pause a bit. But that pause was brief at best. I brought the final total to 101 in honor of the 101 Dalmatians and the youthful love I felt for my Panini 101 Dalmatians sticker book. So, why am I writing about this exactly? Well, I had a debate over whether or not to remove Brittney O’Neale, and within the fires of that debate, an idea was forged. I won’t bother getting into the details, as you can just read them in her section below, but as I went through that ridiculously lame process for such an unimportant decision another thing hit me: This is super ridiculous and lame. I should never tell anyone my foolish reasoning. So of course, I decided to tell everyone instead. So I crafted an 11,000 word masterpiece explaining to all 101 people, why I chose not to erase them from my Facebook Friends List. I imagine many people will never take the opportunity to see this, but I wrote every word as if each and every person would see what I wrote. So, please read yours of course but feel free to read all the others as well. I’m not gonna lie. They’re awesome. And true. And of course, in doing all of this thinking, one can’t help but be reminded of those who were never on the list in the first place, but should be. So I chose the most glaring omission, and titled this post in their memory. I guess right now we should start the show…

_______________

Perfect Musical Companion

Aaron Briggs:
Alphabetically always first on the chopping block. Some may think an ex-girlfriend’s current boyfriend may be an easy cut to make. Not in this case. Where else will I get my fill of forward thinking political information? Besides, who else is going to be my inside entry into the world of Alexander Von Smoot or whatever that guy’s name is. You stay on board for a few reasons, but most important being that if I ever feel like chatting about the inherent evilness of copyrights and patents, you’re one of the few people I expect that may have any opinion whatsoever on the matter. I may be wrong, but the mere fact that you appear to be that guy holds your spot down. You also hold the honor of being the only person on the list that I’ve never actually met.

Adam Woolley:
We go way back. As far as I’m concerned, if you’re someone I’ve ever played a game with that involved throwing a tennis ball at one another, and also have played rollerblade tag on a tennis court with, your spot is safe for life. Besides, you’ve kept that dope wedding photo of you and your wife dancing up as your profile pic forever. I like that. You look good, you’re doing great, and you never post status updates with cuss words in them. What more can I ask for in a Facebook friend? Not much.

Angie Robinson:
I mainly keep you so I can occasionally make references to how Rob is a giant. Other than that, not much contact really. I also give bonus points for you being a dancer. I remember you randomly showed up one time for some reason at my apartment on Bolton St. I came out of the shower in a towel and bam, there you were with like three other people. I weighed about 108 pounds. Embarrassing.

Anna Köhler:
I enjoyed that nighttime conversation we had during Surf Camp. I believe I may have half-heartedly asked you on a ‘date’ when we returned to Sydney. You declined. I liked that. You then sent me a nice email after you left Sydney. I’ve kept you here on the chance that I make it to Germany and you’re down for a visit.

P.S. Wow. Where did you just come from? You commented about this on Facebook by saying ‘Ha! I won!’. Great energy. I made a good call keeping you on the list. Best comment of the bunch.

Anna Varfolomeyeva:
I like to have at least a few people on my friend list who have absolutely ridiculous last names. When you told me in Sydney that my psychological theories on women were bullshit and wouldn’t work, I dared to prove you wrong. Not only did I intend to prove you wrong, I told you in advance exactly how I would do it. You scoffed again. I thoroughly and without pause, treated you worse than I can ever recall treating a woman. Quite openly and blatantly as well. All while constantly giving you a play-by-play of exactly how things were going. Swimmingly. Your attempt to ridicule me in front of the English girls because of my ‘gay’ pink shirt backfired, as I just turned that into my opener. Thanks. I’m sure Caroline thanks you as well. Besides, I figure after you climbing into bed with me and refusing to leave for over two hours while drunkenly repeating yourself over and over, keeping you on here is the least I can do. Plus you taught me how to ‘crank dat Souljah Boy’ and that will stay with me for life. In closing, ‘Thom… Why don’t you like meeeee?’.

Ayda Dee Doll:
Do I even have to explain why I didn’t remove you? It’s pretty obvious. You helped me find a place to eat when I was randomly train traveling throughout Sydney’s outskirts. And I got to hit that extra Cotton On as well. I owe you one.

Becka Vipon:
I could say loads of great stuff about you, Becka Vipon. With ease. I’ll hit a few quick key points: You introduced me to Ali giving me three solid months of bomb adventure. Check. You were put on the spot having to step into a solid Montreal Road Trip Mixtape tradition and came through with flying colors. ‘We are ordinary people!’ Check. And because of you, I have over 50 nearly mint condition 1970’s blue spine Hardy Boys books sitting in storage right now, just waiting for the son I shall never have. At a cost of $10. Ultimate check. Random story: Remember when you were working in Taunton and I went down there to get a massage? I was pretty worried beforehand that I would get an erection. That just seemed a bit on the wrong side with you being Jeff’s lady and all. But ultimately, I did not get one and I was quite proud of that. That was a great massage, too. Actually, if you’re still doing that when I get home I am definitely down to get another one. No promises on the boner front though.

Ben Green:
You’re a Duck. Ducks fly together. End of story. Terry the Law Abider ain’t going nowhere. Damn, and without you starting a one night bromance with a lonely Canadian, Classic Chad would never have existed. Close call. You’re the man.

Brandon Silva:
We’ve played ball together for like ten years. You’re a good dude, and a three-point shooter at heart. You know I can respect that. My shot is made that much better just by knowing you’re there to appreciate it. I seem to recall you telling a story about Jay hooking up with a chick one time who looked just like Ben Franklin. If that was you, mad bonus points. If that wasn’t you, bonus points anyway for not being the dude who hooked up with a chick who looked like Ben Franklin.

Brian Couto:
Another player on the decade-long b-ball roster. I never like when you get placed on me defensively. You have an intuitive sense of what I like to do, and you always hustle. Bad matchup for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still shoot it directly in your face, but ultimately with slightly less success than the rest. Now that I think about it, same thing goes for football. There’s been a couple of times you’ve ended up on the other team for some reason and you always seem to end up defending me. Crazy.

Britney Moscati:
We never chat, no need really. We’re complete strangers and all. For now however, I’ve decided to let family members stay on the list. And Uncle Tommy rocks.

Brittaney Martin:
Your slot is ultimately in a pretty safe zone. More than most. For a number of reasons. I’ll run through some basic rules I’m following here, perhaps these may apply to you: 1) If any part of my body has at some point been placed in your mouth. You stay on the list. 2) If any part of my body is anticipated to at some point shortly after my return be placed in your mouth. You stay on the list. 3) If you consistently pop up on my Facebook chat to say hello when you see me online. You stay on the list. You disappear for huge stretches of time, but at the end of the day, you always wake up, and come knocking on the door. You’re a good one.

P.S. 10% of my total friends either commented about or liked the status I put up regarding this subject. You were one. ‘Sounds good to me.’ A bit generic, but I appreciate the input nonetheless. I shall thank you at a later date with some input of my own.

Brittney O’Neale:
Ultimate honesty here. Here’s the tale of the genesis of this entire masterpiece of writing. I’m going through my list of friends, trying to figure out who I never really have any contact with, as they are an easy removal. I’m down to only needing to remove another 7 people or so, and then I come back across your name, and it hits me: I never talk to Brittney on here, no need to keep her. I’m about to hit the remove button, and as my finger heads down for the click, I see everything in slow motion. My hand descends toward the keyboard and at that same moment I notice your profile pic for the first time and I think to myself ‘She is fucking hot’. Not news to me, but a reminder. My hand pauses and changes direction. But hotness alone can’t be enough to keep someone on the list. Not on my list. So I wonder to myself, ‘Is she still dating that dude?’. So I investigate further. No relationship indicated as far as I can see, but that doesn’t say much. I decide to use my powers of deduction. That relationship is either over, or still in the slow process of inevitably ending. We had enough conversations after basketball for it to be pretty obvious to me that it would go that route sooner or later. Really no matter to me either way, I’ll probably never see you again and if I could I won’t really have time. Unless I’m right, and you are single, in which case, I will make time. And if you’re not single, I’ve changed the criteria in your case. You’re hot enough to stay based on that fact alone. And you’re a treat to talk to. Double threat. All of this got me thinking about why I’m keeping every other person on the list and inspired me to throw it all on the website. Inspiration.

Caroline Short:
Perhaps one of the easiest girls to get along with I’ve ever had the pleasure of spending time around. Period. We spent a good solid month hanging out off and on in Australia and it was generally smooth sailing. The first few times we made out it gave me a solid reminder of my body’s erectile capabilities. (Is that too much information? Too late I suppose.) We’ve stayed in touch pretty well since December and you’ll have the privilege of being one of the final people I visit before heading home. The fact that you’re from Nottingham doesn’t hurt either. You just seem to get it. Let people be. They do their thing, you do yours. And when the two meet at Hungry Jack’s, let the fun begin.

Chad Leclair:
Vintage basketball teammate. One of the nicest guys I know. For some reason your daughter seemed extremely frightened by me that time we ran into each other outside CVS but you and I seem to get along just fine. You jacked your knee, had to get surgery, and you still came back and played ball. That’s a man I can get behind. (Did that sentence come out right? Hmmm.)

Christoffer Bergström
You were a strong addition to the dorm room in Bedlam. You enthusiastically did the Souljah Boy, I’m pretty sure you were there when we all went to see 2012 at that theater with the massive seats, and you are the creator of the best impression I’ve heard while traveling. ‘Thom… Why don’t you like meeeeee?’

Claire Whinney:
The fact that you let me live with you in Melbourne for five weeks probably helps keep your spot on lockdown. Or perhaps the Great Ocean Road tour capped off with glowworms. Or Don’s Party, The Club, learning to bake cookies, learning to cook, or your amazing ability to have me in the house for over a month without once trying to get it on with me. Even after Tammi most likely made it very clear to you how awesome I am to ‘get it on’ with. Impressive for sure.

Connie Pel Yin:
We literally only spoke for thirty minutes at Deco Backpackers in New Zealand. You pop up every once in a while and we have a short chat about this and that. That’s pretty cool. We’ll stay in touch.

Craig Brightman:
I’m going to end up beating the same basketball drum over and over again, but it is what it is. You’re a good point guard and you’ve always had a good sense of how to get me the shots I want. That’s one of my favorite qualities in a person. Getting me open looks. Plus you’ve got a strong passion about playing. I’ve seen more than a few verbal altercations that involve Craig Brightman in the mix. Good match though. I know I wouldn’t want to play on a team that has me and Craig against it, raining down shots. I briefly spent time back in the day at Hazelwood referring to you as “Merolla”, because every time I went to get a rebound against you I felt like I needed to go see the chiropractor. True story.

Dagmar Bieluta:
I must admit. I have a real soft spot when it comes to you and Lydia. Maybe it’s because of me having to kill that bug in your bathroom (even though I actually saved him and placed him outside the window). Maybe it’s because of the amazing dancing fruit we saw at that club we went to in King’s Cross. But it’s probably because we had those amazing conversations together and you two said the nicest stuff I think I’ve ever heard said about me. And you’re both hot.

Damien Griffon:
I was really close to having to cut you but I made the call to leave things as they are. Helps keep the French total up. Oui!

Dan Terzian:
Dan Terzian rocks. Your online presence is vast and powerful, yet you still find the time to cherish thomday.com and post your witty insight, adding some special seasoning to the already delicious meal I’ve placed on the table. One of the very few people online who isn’t me that I’m actually a fan of. Dan Terzian: A man to help remind you that you’re a homo for just wanting to lay in bed and cuddle with a French girl. No way I could ever remove a Duck, especially you since you’ve already lost so much what with not buying that De Phase shirt and all. If you lost me as well, what else is there?

Daniel Kamine:
Cousin Danny. Do you even use Facebook at all? I’ve never seen you. You’re riding the family pass to glory. Plus, you have some great 1990’s hip-hop CDs in your collection. I think you might have Camp Lo’s ‘Uptown Saturday Night’. Nobody who owns that album is going anywhere.

Darrien Slaughter:
Basketball. So I kept you. Short and sweet. You drive into the lane like a bull. Not a Chicago Bull, an actual bull. Effective.

Deborah Aguiar Soares:
We were pretty good friends Freshman year of high school. Things sort of plateaued right about there. You seem to find Facebook as useless as I do, and you managed to keep the only remaining copy of my adolescent poetry in existence for well over a decade. Serious props for that. That means something. I plan on staying in touch with you. Perhaps you’ll agree.

Delaleu Marcel:
Forget keeping you, here’s why I’m going to erase you on the next round. Your name is fucking backwards. What is that all about? Also, you have Jesus quotes all the time for your status. If I want to hear what Jesus has to say, I’ll add him directly on Facebook. Or do they not have the Internet in Heaven, or Valhalla, or wherever it is that JC is living nowadays? Life’s rough bro, you don’t have to tell me but let’s get back to basics. Having a properly ordered name, Tecmo Bowl, and…. that’s it. Just those two things. That’s enough for me. We should play Spud when I get home.

Derek Silva:
You’re like a little brother to me. A brother from another mother. A mother who I’d bang. Actually, your family is chock full of ladies that I would totally get it on with. Except your sister, she’s fucking lame. Nobody wants to eat those leftovers. Seriously though, we really do go way back. Ten years and shit. I can even say that old person type stuff and be all, ‘I remember when you were this big….’ because it’s true. You were like a little kid and what not. Weird. Point Sebago, Super Bowls, playing washer toss. No doubt. You’re family.

Diane Cosmo:
Pretty cut and dry. You obviously don’t use Facebook much but I assume that you mainly come on to check out whatever boring crap I’m up to while traveling. And I imagine so Dad has more than five friends.

Dorothy Jenson:
Family rules apply again. I appreciate the fact that you seem interested enough in my travels to keep an eye on things, not to mention the fact that you totally donated $30 to the cause come Christmas time. More folks need to follow your lead on that one. Also, I’m under the impression that you probably know some young, hot, single women down South and I imagine that once they hear enough great things about me from you, I’ll have plenty of dates to choose from when I visit the VA.
You left a simple comment of ‘I feel lucky’ underneath my status. If it were anyone else, I would erase them immediately for being sarcastic. But generally adults have a hard time with computer sarcasm so I will assume that that was a legitimate remark. If so, thank you. I wouldn’t call it lucky really. Privileged maybe. It’s just semantics. If that was sarcasm, let me know right away. So I can erase you.

Elena Braco:
You’re on my list of people that I plan on visiting on my way through Europe. That’s not a very large list at all. Therefore, if you’re on that list, you’re on this list. Simple.

Emerald Lopes:
One of the very few old school Burger King connections to maintain a spot. You seem much too busy posting classic R&B videos to Facebook for us to ever have any conversation. What would there really be to say anyway? ‘Hey, remember the Whopper? And the Original Chicken Sandwich?’ I’m actually not even that sure what is exactly going on here, but you do keep my News Feed pretty busy. So there’s that.

Eric Lamontagne:
For some reason, I have virtually zero memory of you from back in the day. But come to think of it, I have virtually zero memory of anybody from back in the day. Ancient times anyway. We’ve had a couple of chats here and there when we’re both online and that’s always a good throwback to home.

Garrett Gomes:
We go way back, 8th grade style. I think we might have been in Mr. Florio’s science class together. I still remember you singing Simon & Garfunkel. Many years later, basketball bros. You’re in.

Harveen Dhaliwal:
I’ve already made my thoughts pretty clear when it comes to you. You’re awesome. You’ve got that whole boyfriend thing going on at the moment but no worries. Gives me more time to work on the shoe budget. Personality-wise I’ve had you in the number one slot for over half a year now. Many travelers have vied for that top spot, but no one has even come close. You have a progressive thought process when it comes to relationships, and that’s huge. I’m currently a pioneer in the field and your input and thoughts has been a true breath of fresh air. We’ve had some awesome video chats on Skype and one time I paid somewhere in the $20 range to call you just because I felt like talking to you and had to call your phone directly. Worth every penny. I’ll leave it at that for now before I go overboard. But good thing I bought that ten-trip bus pass around New Zealand. I met you on trip seven. I can’t say enough about you. You put the naked in Naked Bus. (Was that joke clear enough? It has to do with me wanting to see you naked. Fairly obvious I’d say.)

Jack Dearsley:
You’re the captain of the Ducks, I don’t really have to say much more. But I will anyway. Listening to you and Mike debate the Twilight book series was classic. We had some great times for sure. You will forever be the English muffin and tea to my two burgers and soda. And then there was that time that you notified me that you would ‘End me’. To be fair, I did reply that I would ‘fucking demolish’ you, but that’s a battle I hope to see someday. On the lady battlefield. Speaking of which, you definitely smashed with the ladies. I was actually impressed. I’m very rarely impressed in that regard but you can make it happen.

Jacqueline Lesik:
I could go on and on for this one. I’ll just give a brief example that sums things up quite nicely. We get back in touch recently after quite some time. When I initially write to you, I contact you and then go to sleep. I wake up, and bam, you’re already there. I’m well pleased. I then wonder to myself how you might feel about the website. You’re super creative and awesome so I figure it may be something you would enjoy. I decide to mention it to you in my next message. Too late. You make a reference to something I wrote on my website in the first message you write to me. Bam. You’ve already been there. Double bam. I then think to myself, ‘I bet if Jackie sees the Fan Art and ever has the time to do some herself, it would be amazing’. Halfway through thinking that sentence an email comes in. The sickest piece of TD dot C Fan Art on the block. Triple bam. I can honestly say that every single time we’ve gotten reconnected since the initial time we met, I’ve ended up with a crush on you of various sizes. No worries though, not this time. Unless you’re into that kind of thing, in which case… oops, gotta run! I’m late for something I don’t even have time to explain. But it’s definitely a real thing that I’m late for. Not just an excuse to not finish that sentence. That wouldn’t even make sense. I could have just erased it. Bet.

Jaime G. Cerda:
A guy can never have too many Melbourne improvisation masters on his Friend List. After my epic performance on stage at Impro Melbourne I was invited to come back again the next night to see the show again for free. Not passing that one up. So I saved myself $3 and made the hour and a half walk down to St. Kilda for the show Halloween night. We bumped into each other outside and you hit me with a ‘Thom Day!’. That was ultra fresh. I definitely appreciate your ability to remember greatness. We got to chatting and I was able to pick up some inside info on the international improv scene. I had me a nice little group to take in the performance with and even though you left early for work, you set me up with a ride home. Nice touch. That bought me an extra hour to get drunk on Jagermeister before heading over to PHD, making the Pure Hard Drunk video series a possibility. I haven’t forgotten your love for the delicious taste of Pringles, so you can rest assured that once I get back to the States, there will be a box of crispy goodness on it’s way Down Under.

Janis Johnson:
You work in insurance. You find me extremely sexy. Those are two things I can certainly appreciate in a woman. You were pretty interested in my upcoming adventures so I gave you my Facebook info to stay in touch. You mentioned having a daughter and I figured that based on your appearance there was a good chance she was super hot. I imagined that she may fall in my lap at some point or another. Not quite how things have turned out but I imagine I’ll be pleased with the situation regardless.

Jeab (ยูริน โฮ):
Since you speak a tiny amount of English, I’d imagine you will never read this. I’ll save myself a long winded explanation and just say that I imagine it would be pretty inappropriate to sleep with somebody every night for 10 days and remove them from Facebook in the middle of it. Even I’m not that rude. I wouldn’t remove you anyway. You are super nice, give great massages, make awesome smoothies, and it seems like every dude in Pai wants to hook up with you. Sorry fellas. America does it again. America!

Jeff Periera:
Nothin much bro! You guessed it…. baby dinosaurs. Bill Murray bowling. My dad getting plopped in cuffs. Portuguese Scattergories. Super weird hand gliding over the ball dribbling skills. Uppercutting an NES style homerun that time in Dartmouth. Who wants a body massage? Taking a roast beef sandwich to the crotch. Who’s the doorman. The list is long, and great. You’re one of my best friends kid, and I’ll always be backing you up from the sidelines. Or the crowd. Or outside the stadium. Wherever I am I suppose. Point being, no matter where things are at, I’ll take a roast beef sandwich to the dick any day for you. That’s how we roll, son.

Jen Costa:
We used to talk on the phone forever. You were an awesome old-school friend. Still are. We keep in touch somewhat regularly now and that’s pretty wicked. It’s funny but whenever we talk now its pretty much just like it was 14 years ago. Yeah, that was about 14 years ago. Yikes. Getting it on with you when I was much younger would have been terrific practice for me. Instead I chose to do it with a whale instead. Live and learn. We actually both bought Coca-Cola bears for Christmas. That’s bonkers. Almost as bonkers as the fact that we never landed on the moon. Crazy stuff. Make sure you call General Cinemas tonight at 12:00 on the dot. I don’t care if it’s been AMC for years now and the number isn’t even the same. Do it anyway. For old times sake. Then we’ll go to Dream Machine and watch Mike count quarters super fast. Speaking of which, remember how wicked your ass looked in those Dream Machine pants? Not you Mike, Jen.

Jens Krag:
I doubt we’ll ever really keep in touch but you’re posting updates from China so if the need for some super current China information arises, you’re probably the man to go to. Plus, you’re in your early 30’s but still look super young. I can respect that.

John Day:
To be honest, up until yesterday I was under the impression that this was the John Day who is the head of St. Luke’s Hospital. My thinking has been that if I ever needed some serious hospital care while visiting the city, it couldn’t hurt to have some friends in high places. Instead, it turns out to have been you, my dad, the whole time. Granted, still a friend in ‘high’ places, so at the end of the day not a great difference really.

Josh Lussier:
We hung out that one time for the U2 concert. You came across like a pretty good dude. Sara sure seems to like you a lot, and I like Sara, so therefore I like you.

Josh Major:
I make it a habit to never bother seeking anybody out from high school on Facebook. Couldn’t care less. I do however add those who have found and added me. I’ve now come to delete a good chunk of them. Why not you? Not sure actually. We were just acquaintances in school really. But you were super cool and I was super fool, and you were cool with me no less. Definitely alright. And you appear to look virtually the same as you did over a decade ago. That rocks.

Junggu Kang:
You are easily the happiest dude I’ve come across while traveling. You never stop smiling. One of my favorite parts of the Bedlam parties was you randomly walking through to go to your room. Not sure why exactly, but your energy was contagious. Plus, you taught me how to drink Korean style, by drinking a whole bottle of beer in one gulp, and tipping the empty bottle over your head to prove that it is indeed empty.

Karina Schmunk:
You were in my room at Surf Camp. You were very quiet and pretty reserved. You didn’t seem all that interested in talking with me but I couldn’t help but try anyway. The more that I looked at you, the more I realized how outrageously pretty you are. You have some of the best hair I’ve seen in the last seven months. We ended up having a few nice conversations overall and that was that. We attempted to get together again in Sydney, but that never really worked itself out. I’ve kept you on as a potential European visit. Time will tell on that one. I’m certainly going to try on my end. I imagine that if I had been able to lay in bed with you and cuddle, I would have been pretty happy with that. That’s rare.

P.S. You saw my Facebook status and decided to click the like button. I’m glad you did so. I have to admit, I was a little bit excited to see your name on there. Don’t tell anyone that I said that though. I’ll be embarrassed.

Kate Matyjaszek:
You made the cut along with Anna for having such a silly surname. Also, you were kind of hot in a kind of hot way. You were too interested in Bondi for us to really chat much, but I of course was too interested in Anna’s height for us to chat anyway. I erased you in the first batch of friend removals but you noticed, wrote to me, and called me out on it. We now stay in touch somewhat. Very cool. I do plan on visiting you the next time I’m in New York. Don’t tell Anna though. She’ll just get drunk and be all ‘Thom…. Why don’t you like me?’.
P.S. You were the first person to comment on my mass friend removal by saying ‘I’m so relieved to be able to still read this lol !’. Nicely said. I now like you even more.

Kerri Roy:
Kerri, Kerri. The Robin to my New Zealand Batman. We quite literally became friends again just days before I left the country. We talked a shitload for my entire run in New Zealand. That was huge. That was a rough month for sure. We had some awesome conversations via Facebook and iChat. You were one of the original thomday.com SuperFans and that is never forgotten. I dropped off the face of the earth for about a week when I got to Sydney and you quickly realized that I’m nowhere near as dreamy as I appeared to be at first, second, third, fourth, and fifth glance. We haven’t had too many chats since then, but I get the feeling you still take the time out to keep an eye on what’s what. Who knows what the future may bring but I’d say your Top 15 spot is on lockdown for quite some time. You did come to that movie festival and all. Extra historical bonus points.

Kerrie Rousseau:
Easy. You’ve been part of my ultra-tiny family for ten years. You were always awesome to play basketball with, and your parents rock. Not to mention, you are one of the only people on Facebook who ever seems to do anything really interesting to me. Actually, you may be the only one. Every day. It’s ridiculous. Your status is always nuts. ‘Just ran 5k. Class from 9-4. Then belly dancing class, baking a cake, starring in a local production of Rent, having late dinner with Kevin Garnett, then getting to bed early because I have to be up at 5 AM to meet the President. Oh, and breakfast with Gary.’

Kerry Day Brennan:
Family status. The three girls always have safe spots no matter what. I’m pretty fond of you three. Always have been. And anyone with Chuck E. Cheese in their profile pic ain’t going nowhere. Nowhere. What’s the E stand for I wonder? I may do some research. If it’s Eugene that is hilarious. And is it Chuck, or was he born Charles? Charles Eugene Cheese. That’s great.

P.S. Kerry Day Brennan comments ‘Great to be family!’. True that. I’d be happy to have me as family as well. Who else is going to teach those little fellas of yours to be stone cold players when they grow up?

Kevin Costigan:
I always liked you, K Cos. You’ve been one my favorite additions to the basketball crew for sure. Good energy, good shot, good dude. You always get me gassed up to perform whether on my team, or the other. I think you may be one of the only people to ever discover how to properly defend my jump shot. Hand up to block it? Good luck dummies. Prepare to eat one. Ask Costigan for advice. As I’m about to release my shot, softly jab me with your fingers in the upper torso area with either hand. Simple as that. It’s a pattern interrupt. And a good one. John Jr. has his own version as well. Sometimes mid-shot he will just change levels defensively and drop his entire body down about two and a half feet. It does nothing of course to physically alter the shot, but the image is distracting. Kev has literally jabbed me so many times in one night with his fingers that I’ve gone home and had a bruise on my abs. For real. Well played.

Krista Foyston:
You’re going to school to be a jockey. In Canada. That’s awesome. We went out as a Bedlam group the one night you stayed there with your brother. You proved to be extremely susceptible to even rudimentary psychological tricks. Awesome. We would have made out no doubt, but I got bored and left early. You then disappeared all night and most of the next day and scared the shit out of your brother. Good times. I kept you in case I end up your way in Canada.

Kristine Day:
I’ll repeat myself here. Family status. The three girls always have safe spots no matter what. I’m pretty fond of you three. Always have been. And anyone with Chuck E. Cheese in their profile pic ain’t going nowhere. Wait. That’s not Chuck E. Cheese. That’s your boyfriend. Burn! Just kidding, he’s a nice guy and looks nothing like Chuck. Maybe one of these days I can actually get up your way for a day or two so we can hang out. Cousin style.

Kuba Rozprówacz
Convention would dictate that you would be an easy person to remove. We met on the bus from the airport to the hostel and I was inserted into your group for about five hours or so. We all went out dancing and what not but I got bored after a while and went outside for some fresh (non-fresh) air. I then disappeared on you guys to take part in my first official one-night stand ever. I never saw you again but we talked on the Book one time and you extended your already extended offer for me to visit you guys in Poland. If I can get over that way, I’m down. You had some fresh road rash. I was jealous.

Kyle Hebert:
We were pretty good friends way back in Freshman year. Checking out some girl’s softball over at Buttonwood Park stands out as a fond memory. You may be the only person I ever had the chance to share my discovery of the ‘Whistling Pussy’ video with. You got fairly cool and we parted ways as friends for the most part. That sucked, but fair enough. I would have done the same I’m sure. I think I may have bumped into you at Shaw’s once a while back, not quite sure. You live in TN now so that’s cool. Perhaps on my travels around the U.S., I can swing by and we can check out some women’s softball.

Laura Elner:
You always acted like you hated me, but were putting up with me for Caroline’s sake. I always knew otherwise. You kind of liked me. We grew on each other. It was definitely quite humorous that whenever just the two of us had a conversation, it was pretty serious and non-contentious but whenever Caroline was involved you and I just went at it. You seem pretty happy with everything that’s going on for you right now. That’s really great. Almost as great as Duff.

Lauren Viera:
You were always super cool at Wednesday basketball, letting us stay late sometimes if it was necessary. I always enjoy talking to you even though all you ever like to talk about is advanced mathematics. After I got out of the hospital we went to the beach and I got to eat those delicious cinnamon buns your mom made. Good times. You drew such amazing Thom Day fan art long before the website, that when the website came around, your art served as the inspiration for the idea in the first place. Top notch. You’re a good one. Enjoy your equations.

Lina Rebelo:
I’d like to take this opportunity to point out the fact that I have slept in bed with all three, yes all three, of the Rebelo sisters. And made out with zero of them. How great, and lame is that? I’ll get to Liz later, but you certainly never wanted to (with good reason), but Helen did. Oh yeah. Helen totally did. Like my boy Meatloaf says, two out of three ain’t bad. Still plenty of time to work on you anyway. We go way back in a much different way than most, and I like that. Good times kid. Christmas of 97 is still my favorite of all time. I put in some serious work for you. You better remember that shit fondly. Mario Brothers 2 on the TV, Mary J. Blige in the CD player, that ridiculous alien I had to bust my ass at Dream Machine for like eight hours on the basketball game to get enough tickets to win. And other stuff I forget. We had that crazy walk one time around 2000 or so. Then we pretty much dropped off the map. When we were able to get back on track in ‘06 it was great. Sangria at Olive Garden and what not. Roxette. All that shit. Now you’ve got a fairly steady beach buddy whenever I’m around. We’ve done pretty alright considering. In fact, you may be the last actual friend left standing from the BK era. Yeah, I think so. You’re it kid. The rest are dust.

Linda Bode:
I invited you to go to the Tiger Kingdom with a few of us. You said yes. That was your first mistake. Now you’re stuck with me. You invited me to go up to Pai with you for a few days and I’d say we had a pretty good time. You got to hear loads of long winded stories for days. We slept in bed together but it never went any further than that. I had a pretty good feeling that I could have put the moves on you, but that’s when I remembered I don’t have moves. My move is to not move. Philosophical. I don’t know, I just had a gut feeling at the time. Didn’t think you’d enjoy it all that much. I was probably right. I have a much stronger core now so my feelings on that matter may have changed a bit. I guess we’ll see in Holland. I taught you the Vintage Thom Day Massage Maneuver (VTDMM), and you loved it. At least you seemed to. Of course, I didn’t actually teach you, I just told you. I promised to actually teach you when I visit. I intend to keep that promise. You’re 30, still hot, and a business consultant. Bonus points!

Linda Björklund:
We had a few brief moments in Sydney. I had a good feeling about you. It might have been because you were pretty hot. I told you I give phenomenal body massages. I delivered. Even in the sitting position with a full house. I could have still pulled off the VTDMM. I chose not to. I figured it would be best to save it for a better opportunity. That opportunity never came. I have no regrets on that. Sweden is on my list of countries to visit, solely based on visiting on you. If that ends up happening, good.

Liz Rebelo:
We could have made out loads back in the day. I felt uncomfortable because you were younger than me. Hilarious. You were like three years younger or something. I drop down 10+ now with ease. Times change. We’re well past that stage now. All good. Maybe we’ll go for a walk or something around the park when I get back.

Lorraine Dormer:
International family connection. If I can get myself over to Ireland before going home, I’ll be using Facebook to get set up heading in your direction.

Louise Peltier:
Ah Louise. My French best friend. Je te mange. I thought you were adorable, and French, and super cute. I had about ten days left in Australia before leaving for Thailand and I decided that I would like to spend the remainder of my nights cuddling in bed with you in room 2E. Step 1: I set up a movie for us to watch together while laying on the couch downstairs. Step 2: That night when I went to the room to go to sleep, I just went and put myself in your bed rather than my own, figuring when you came back you would have one of three options. Get in with me, go sleep in my bed, or kick me out of yours. You got in bed with me and that was that. Over one week of hardcore sleeping and cuddling and it was everything I hoped it would be. Everything was bon.

Lydia Pusunc:
You’re super sweet, super nice, and you look a lot like Penelope Cruz. If you didn’t have a boyfriend back home in Germany, I would have definitely taken you on a number of dates. You told me that I was better than in a fairy tale. Like a prince or something. Well said. We went to Bondi Beach and I smashed you and Dagmar at your classic German board game. If you’re ever single, and I’m in Europe, watch out. I celebrated the New Year with you on your rooftop, and then with myself throwing up in your bathroom. I was definitely not that drunk. Somebody drugged me for sure. You were an absolute blast. It’s impossible to contact you since your boyfriend goes into you account all the time, but I’d still like to see you again at some point.

Manege Bn:
We had a ton of French-style fun in Sydney. I was thrown in charge of keeping you busy while your surprise birthday party was being set up at the hostel. Your birthday just so happens to be the same as Faith’s so that was a bit tough for me. But I think I did a pretty good job. You seemed very happy with it all. I even got to win you a prize on the basketball game at Luna Park. You took tons of awesome pictures and I’m hoping to get a few more while I’m visiting in France. You shoot documentaries, eat baguettes, and speak French and I think that is just awesome.

Marques Houtman:
You get sick rotation on your 3-point shots. I like that. I played ball with you occasionally back in the mid-90’s during the heyday of Buttonwood ball. I sucked hardcore back then. All good. I picked up over the years. I checked out a bunch of games over at UMass during the brief ABA adventure. Good stuff. You’ve seen the website and referred to it as being ‘the shit’. Coming from a fellow website creator, those are some heavy words. I love that you are still out there ballin’. Everyone else seemed to fall off the map.

Matthew Blackwell:
Mattie B. One of my top five favorite CVS cashiers of all time. You knew me as Shawn Hollister. You knew me as Parker Lewis. You also knew me as Justin Tim Berlaque. And know you know me as Thom Day. Your CVS friend. I gave you a copy of The Game because you are too nice. I wonder if you read that.

Megan Shaw James:
Family. And I like people with three names.

Melanie Silva:
Bah. How much am I supposed to write for this one? None of it is going to be news to you anyway. I keep you on here for tons of reasons. We dated for five years. That’s a long time. And you came in when I was still a pretty rough diamond. Coal mostly. Big credit goes to you for that one. It’s safe to say that over the years I’ve done some pretty great stuff for you, and some pretty awful stuff as well. Yet, you stick around. Thick and thin. Sadly for you, I’m way hot now and totally out of your league but we can still be friends. It’s good to have you on Facebook as well so ladies who are interested in me can get a feel for what kind of chicks I get it on with. And since my other getting it on partners are obviously nowhere to be seen, or whales, you have to hold it down for the most part. It’s also mighty helpful that you are generally the only person awake at 2-5 AM which is typically a great time for me to be able to chat back home. Plenty more where that came from. Nice things. Not chats.

Melissa Correia:
I kept you on for old-times sake. Every once in a while you throw a little comment my way on Facebook and that’s cool. Plus, you cooked me and Scott an absolute mountain of french toast that one time and it was outrageous. We slept in bed together more than a few times back on Bolton St. and I can’t help but to think that all of that practice has helped shape me into the man that I am today. If I’m not one of the best bed-layers and cuddlers around I doubt anyone is going to convince me of that fact.

Michael Martins:
Holy shit. Kicharl Martins himself. Fucking Kicharl! What atrocious handwriting. How does that never stop being funny? That was like 13 years ago. You very, very rarely even use Facebook so it isn’t really all that necessary to keep you on here. You never see any of my hilariously thought out status updates or comments so what’s the point? I guess it’s mostly out of respect and honor. And if you ever change your profile pic people will naturally want to add me as a friend because they’ll be all, ‘Damn! That guy knows Shawn from Boy Meets World!’. But yet you never change it. So instead, they’re all ‘Damn! I think that’s Bobby Budnick from Salute Your Shorts or whatever’.

Michael Penfold:
The most debonair of the English Ducks and one of the more useful Facebook friends. You pop up now and again, we chat briefly, you have to run. I like that. We never have to go on and on endlessly. You don’t say much online, but when you do it’s typically brilliant. You use your British accent with the ladies in a way I’ve only imagined and you started kickboxing recently. All at such a young age. See you in England.

Michelle Holmen:
Seems best to keep you as a friend on here so you can have someone to chat with when my big brother is either taking himself down to Paradise City, participating in a draft, or breaking up an ass-raping with pudding snacks. Besides, the look on your face in the crisis center when I started talking about jerking off on Faith’s bum was priceless (Editor’s note: My original wording of this sentence made it sound like I actually jerked off on her behind inside the crisis center. Now that would have been impressive. Although, I am capable of such greatness however. One of the many things I’ve learned over these past seven months). So, that facial expression alone will keep your spot safe forever. Also, you’re making huge strides with the whole doula thing so eventually we can have a ‘Who has seen more vaginas?’ competition. Tops.

Michelle Clubine:
We had a couple of good days in Christchurch. That’s about it. You girls had sick energy. That was awesome. You’re up in Edmonton and I wanted to keep a few Canada contacts on the list. And here you are.

Neil Wagner:
Back to the basketball. Neil gets it on. Neil, you get it on. Very good point guard. Deceptively good what with being white and what not. I never have a problem ending up on your team. Really, the only problem usually ends up being which one of us is going to hit the game winning shot. We spread it around though. Equality. And you say some funny shit sometimes. Don’t want to leave that out.

Nina Botelho:
Here’s an easy one. Why are you still on the list? Probably has something to do with the four year crush I had on you in high school I’d say. Yeah, that sounds about right. And now you’re obviously crazy into fitness. You’ll be an extremely useful source as I craft my various workout routines for this summer and beyond. It’s always good to have a Facebook friend that apparently lost her bus pass at some point in high school. How do I know that? Because I found it that’s how. I kept that shit for good luck. In my shoe for some reason. Anyone who thinks this is bonkers and doesn’t believe me can feel free to verify this fact with one Mr. Kicharl Martins. You were an amazing girl. I bet you still are.

Noom Spicythai:
Noom’s last name is in fact, not Spicythai. But it should be. Easily the best hostel owner I’ve ever come across. Noom, I think you may speak English better than I do. Impressive. Noom can give you information on anything you can possibly imagine out here in Thailand. And he probably has the best looking baby you’ve ever seen.

Peter Pereira:
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything on Facebook from you at all except Mafia Wars shit. That alone should banish you forever. But I’ll be damned if Pistol Pete doesn’t have one of the sweetest 3-point shots I’ve ever come across. Back in my younger days I used to be in awe of your shooting skills at Buttonwood. I consider it a testament to my many years of perseverance and hard work that I’m able to now step onto the court with the now older version of Pete, and be able to hang. I’ve never been able to figure out exactly how, but you can dribble into traffic in a way that not many can. Dope. And you have a beard like Rick Rubin.

Rick Lopez:
You trained me at AT&T. Damn, that’s way back. We’ve been running ball ever since. Always good times. You may be one of the only people I can think of that has the ability to block my jump shot. Your wingspan and knowledge that I’m going to shoot the rock 90% of the time allow you to make that happen. I don’t think we’ve spoken since I left, but we’ll hook up when I get back. Maybe some tennis. You’re definitely one of the toughest dudes I’ve ever played tennis against. Fucking wingspan. You’re able to get to everything. Makes me step my game up big time.

Rob Delaleu:
The smarter of the two Delaleus judging by the way you choose to place your name in proper order. We don’t stay in touch really but that’s been the case for many years. You’re still like my big brother in a way and I can’t help but think that the fact that you beat the shit out of us for all those years has helped me push through any bodily pain that has come my way. Also, if I remove you from Facebook, how am I ever going to get to bring up the fact that you still owe me $350 from over ten years ago. For some reason I always felt like it was awkward to bring up. Not so much anymore. That’ll cover the rest of my muay thai equipment. Don’t worry though, your brother owes me more. I gave that fool 20 hits of ecstasy to sell at his senior prom and I think he fucking ate them all or something. What the hell was I thinking? I also ‘ate’ almost $400 on that one. That reminds me. He’ll be hearing from me as well. We’ll see what kind of quote Jesus has for that one. By the way, awesome job with the BCC squad. I’ve been keeping up to date. I’d love to go back to school just so I can try out and you can cut me from the team.

Robin Eriksson:
I was crazy close to taking you off the list. I doubt we’ll ever talk again. But I still had Christoffer on, and I didn’t want to break up the pair. Also, there is a chance you may have some actual footage of a bunch of us ‘cranking dat Souljah Boy’ that I would like to see. You’re on the edge, but still here no less.

Romayne Anderson:
You’re a Domino’s throwback. I like to have one of those hanging around for old time’s sake. And there was that time you were with those two girls in your car, and I was in my car on the side of you. We were talking about going to play basketball and I said that the girl’s should join in. The one in the back seat said, ‘Fine. I’ll even beat you with one hand’, to which I replied, ‘Why? Do you only have one hand or something?’ jokingly. Her reply. To lift up her right arm, which was missing a hand. Oops. Awkward. She was kind of cute too. She seemed a bit into me. That’s right about where that stayed. Me and you drove to the mall that other time in your white car, I forget what kind of car that was, and you had that sick aftermarket muffler on it. That was so fucking loud it was scary. My bowels were loose the entire time. Crazy.

Rosemary Shaw:
For family, you stay pretty active on Facebook, but not in an annoying way. You commented already on all this business, and delivered a wonderfully layered answer. You were pleased to still be on the list, mentioned the greatness of protein shakes, and inquired about my current location upon leaving Bangkok. You obviously keep up with my current events. And, you’re my only avenue to contacting Ryan since he is completely unable to reply to my messages. So I’m moving on to the next step. I’m sending in his mommy.

Ryan David Polei:
Crazy photog skills and 1/3 of the American Ducks. Within 20 minutes of meeting you i was already planning my own trip into China. You sold me without selling. And you went Jimmy ‘Superfly’ Snuka on that fence at Manli and blasted into the water off the top rope. That was sick. I’ve been wishing for months that I had done the same. You killed it. And now every time your profile pic changes, it’s you with super hot chicks. And it changes all the time! Ryan Polei. More like Ryan Polei-yah! I hit you up on Facebook last week and within 24 hours you had dropped a phat document full of China tips on me, and a couple of fresh connections. That’s a fucking teammate.

Ryan Shaw:
I don’t want to be one-sided here and only give credit to the people on here with mad hot lady skills. Fair is fair. You’ve always got tons of photos of you in random places, with ripped, good looking dudes. Like clockwork. Well done kid. I wrote you a couple of weeks ago even though I knew you would never get around to writing back. No worries. I wouldn’t waste my time either if I was constantly doing cool stuff with buff dudes like you always seem to be. Besides, I’m now sending your mom in to handle it for me. I get the feeling that there is no avoiding her. Enjoy.

Samuel Ackah:
You ran for Assessor. Awesome. And you invited me to your birthday party at Hazelwood Park when we were kids and went to Pulaski together. That was really cool of you. You’re in.

Sara Duquette:
Sara, you’ve always got a place on my friend list, and in my heart. No doubt. Definitely my favorite friend that I made during my two year college period. Good thing I took that computer class. I’d go to your house, you’d cook dinner for us, and we’d watch a movie. Perfection. Never a hassle with the two of us. Sometimes you would call me to sleep over and cuddle. If that isn’t worth the hour drive to Attleboro, I don’t know what is. You still owe me a nude back massage from some time ago but I’m willing to let that slide by since you’ve got the whole getting married thing going on. Josh is a good fella. And you’re a great gal. Awesome match. I’m looking forward to a nice conversation with you when I get back. If memory serves me correctly, you gave me the opportunity to get set up with a girl who’d been in Playboy, back in the summer of 2006. I had literally just met Faith though, and decided to run with that instead. Damn, you cooked delicious dinners. I hope Josh invites me over for supper one of these days.

Scott Reiniche:
The guy who runs The Back In The Day Cafe. On my Facebook? I’ll take it. I keep you on in case I ever need a short stint with Pro Sound Entertainment or you find yourself with an extra ticket to a good Celtics game and feel the need to throw it my way. Yup.

Shawn Goldstein:
Homerun derby partners for life. Man, you sure blasted some sick shots out of those DYAA fields. As long as you can mash baseballs like that, you’re on the list.

Shawneen James:
I can still picture you standing in that little doorway of your house on Cedar St. in the Front. I used to head down there to play ball with the thugs because I had a crush on the girl who lived next to you. I can still picture you standing behind that little counter at Honey Dew Donuts on Kempton. I used to head down there to get nothing because I had a crush on the girl who worked there. Good times. We decided to hang out one day after you got out of work. Unfortunately, I myself had to work pretty much directly after that conversation took place. I drove down to work and pulled my boss aside to tell her in a heartbreaking fashion that my dad had just been rushed to the hospital and it was important that I get down there as soon as possible because things were looking pretty bad. It was a moving performance. I got myself so into the role that I actually believed that it was true myself for a little while. That was an alright night for sure. Totally worth it. I bump into you every few years or so and that’s that. You were even lucky enough to see me rollerblading with my niece last summer with my awesome skating helmet on. We’re going to spend some quality time together this summer so you can see what you’ve been missing for the last ten years or so. You obviously stay on the list. That way I can watch all your status updates make your friends jealous all summer.

Stephen Stempka:
The man who throws more no-look passes than you could ever dream of. To be honest Steve, I’m not even sure if you ever learned how to throw an actual look pass. Another ball player and overall good dude makes the cut.

Steven Dunst:
I still need to get a copy of that group photo from Surf Camp. I know Shaun had it as well, but he got dropped around the 110 range.

TK Paradza:
An aspiring R&B singer I met at the Subway in Wellington. You make the cut. Cold. You recorded a pretty damn good song that sat in my iPod rotation for a good month or so. And you set me off with an absolutely ill footlong submarine sandwich. You’ve also provided me with one of my favorite status updates of all time: The one where RZA came into your Subway, but you were too busy working to be able to talk to him. Man, people gave you a lot of shit for that. RZA.

Tammi Sinnett:
New rule: If a girl’s vagina is tight enough that I refer to her at a later date as ‘having two assholes’, she makes the list. I’m not quite sure if this actually applies to anyone on this list. I’m just saying it because I just thought of it. Timing. New rule: If I’ve seen Hulk Hogan battle Ric Flair with someone, they make the list. That’s a good one. One of those must apply to you. And you bought me that sweet jersey as a going away present. You’re in. You loved the fact that I cooked dinner, baked chocolate chip cookies, and washed the dishes. You loved some other stuff too but I forget what that was.

Tony Correia:
The red Sentra gets you in. All the rides you had to give me and Missy to school back in the day gets you in. The month we spent together shopping and gearing up for Christmas 97 gets you in. Your massive CD books and dope car stereo gets you in. Having a crush on a girl at the same time as me having a crush on her cousin gets you in. You kind of looking like Shawn Stockman from Boyz II Men gets you in. You being one of the few dudes on the planet who I think can actually be counted on at the end of the day gets you in. And ultimately, the tiny little yellow banana that was your only prize at the Whaling City Festival the year I went house and won nearly every prize possible at every game imaginable gets you in. That was a little banana, kid. Much love.

Troy Bonham:
Troy, have you been working out? Coach Conway wants to know. I spread the knowledge of the VTDMM to you as we walked back from a late night out with the boys. I can only hope that you’ve now taken my wisdom international. A Duck who says ‘Brilliant’ like Will from The Inbetweeners. Sweet. Plus, you never brag about hooking up with ladies. That tells me that you do it all the time. To quote Coach O’Ryan from Mighty Ducks 3: ‘Alright, knock off the celebration. Act like you’ve scored before.’

Vanessa Cornier:
You and Manege seem so inseparable that I wasn’t sure if Facebook would let me remove one without the other. I like to have some French friends on the list so I can make jokes about baguettes as well.

Wade Gomes:
A teacher / sick ballplayer / old-school DJ? Easy call to make. Either of the last two would have kept you in on its own. Two just made it overkill. You’re going to get me open looks, rebound the few shots I somehow manage to miss, and bring much needed leadership to the court. You’ve given me a few sneak peaks at songs you’re using in your upcoming sets and a couple have become a part of my lengthy travel soundtrack. I’m definitely down for the next Utopia that drops after I return.

Yong Vila:
My main English-speaking connection in the tiny town of Pai. The fact that you were willing to watch me go through every t-shirt that I’ve bought while traveling, all while I described where I purchased each one, why I purchased it (fabric, print, size), and how much I paid for it (with all Cotton On prices roughly converted over to the Thai baht) should keep you in the Top 100 for quite some time. Added bonus: You hooked me up with a police connection who will sell me his police helmet for when I go back home and buy myself a sweet scooter. That is awesome.

Zane Ritt:
Zane Ritt from the big PO. We had a good couple of days with the Canadian girls at the tail end of my New Zealand adventure. I’m fairly certain that our pseudo breaking and entering into the Funkn Fish N Chips was one of my two or three top NZ moments. I got smashed drinking whiskey with those German dudes and had a brief convo with you about why I was traveling. I believe you laid down a heartbreaking tale of your own. Next day, I couldn’t remember one bit of it, but had a gut feeling we were writing on the same page in a way. You cooked the sickest strawberry pancakes around and left me inspired to do the same when I return home. That I will. You mentioned never having gone to a strip club before, and broke that creepy drought with a few of us from BASE. It was as unimpressive and lame as I hoped it would be. I sized you up over our time together and realized that you were a truly good dude. I immediately saw the inherent weakness in that. I spent a solid day or so giving you the basics of female psychology essentially explaining to you that being a nice guy not only causes you to finish last, but gets you tripped up mid-race like all those Jamaicans in Cool Runnings. I hoped to be your John Candy and help you get on a solid track. I gave you many e-books. To be clear to any interested parties, I had no intentions of attempting to sour you and turn you ‘bad’. I could tell you were one of few who had the potential to use the information for good and be a true White Knight. I still believe that. Stay classy, Oregon.

______________

Done.

With traveling and all, things have been a bit hectic out here so I never got a chance to reveal my thinking on that passage from ‘The Appeal’. Which had a fabulous ending by the way. About time an author stopped being fake, and started to get real. Anyway, at this point it really doesn’t matter though. My dad stepped into the comment section after ending his battle with whatever old-man illness he’s had the last week or so, and did most of the work for me. I shall let him continue this post.

_______________

Was feeling sick so I waited a while to comment on this one. And since I didn’t read the book, my only comment is to the idiotic mind frame of people that think praying will solve their problems. People pray about everything and anything. Whether to win a court case, get pregnant, get a good job, win a ballgame etc, etc. It’s all bullshit as there’s no one listening to your hollow prayers people. Prayers haven’t stopped wars, the Holocaust, the Plague, famine or any of the other bad things that happen to us. That’s because there is no one listening. Just because people have been brainwashed since birth to believe in all this crap, that doesn’t mean it is all real. On the off chance that someone thinks a particular prayer has been answered, it’s just coincidence. If you prayed for a great job and got it, coincidence. If you prayed for your team to win and it did, coincidence. If you prayed to hit the numbers and it did, coincidence. If I’m wrong, then the crazy Muslims prayers were answered on 9/11 when the Towers came down. And Hitler’s prayers were answered when he killed 6 million Jews. So how come the Jews prayers weren’t answered while they waited in line, standing naked outside the buildings that housed the ovens? It is all bullshit. Based on man and womans fear of death. We fear death so therefore we need religion and God and prayer in hopes that there is something after death. Instead of praying, people would be much better off spending their time trying to fix whatever problem they face instead of praying for it to be fixed by some imaginary character. If people didn’t believe in all this, they would be forced to try and fix things themselves and the world would be a better place. But I’m sure I am in the minority on this one but who cares. The people who disagree will probably pray for me. I’m sure that will be a big help in turning me around. Not!!

_______________

Me again. Oh! Religious burn! Well said. One of the best parts of that entire speech was this: the obviously well thought out points, the utter seriousness, and the clear nature of its coming from a knowledgeable source, all being capped off with a 1980’s/Borat style ‘Not!!’. That’s how you keep the people coming back. I’m reminded of the time in my Business Law class a few years back when we had to write an essay on the Bill of Rights or something and my professor (who is a currently practicing lawyer) pulled out my paper, read it aloud to the class, and then remarked, ‘I’m an attorney, and I couldn’t have said it better myself’. Well done sir.

My point was essentially all of what he said, except I would have switched the Muslims with some random bunch from an obscure 80’s cartoon, the Jews with the Legion Of Extraordinary Dancers, Hitler with Doug Crosby, and BJ Penn would have been in there a ton as well. However, my main point was this: They received a call that the verdict was in. I repeat, in. As in already decided. Decision already made. Unable to be changed. Then they prayed for a positive outcome. What the fuck is the point of that? I would have to say that if God does hear any prayers, it’s idiotic ones like these that are placed after the fact. I imagine he then punishes you at a later date for being an imbecile. Maybe I should try out your approach though before I judge it out of a sense of fairness. Give me a second….. Okay. Done. I just finished praying that the NBA doesn’t suspend Amare Stoudemire and Boris Diaw just for fucking standing up off the bench, after Robert Horry put an Ulf Samuelsson hip-check on Steve Nash into the scorer’s table at the end of Game 4 of their crucial 2007 playoff series. Wait for it… wait for it… wait for it. Maybe there is a God though. And he’s a Spurs fan. That would certainly explain them drafting David Robinson, Tim Duncan, Manu Ginobli, and Tony Parker.

_______________