Ok maybe not...

TMac a Rocket

Yup... You guessed it, I'm bitter but I also hope I'm wrong.

All my friends, rockets fans and haters alike, cannot understand why the hell I'd be against this deal. My arguments about TMac being a selfish and gutless player bear no fruit whatsover it seems. They all think I'm just talkin' smack just to be a rebel of poplular opinion. I can't blame them either as I have in the past made some pretty outlandish claims and have opposed the opinions of bandwagoners everwhere.

Remember when the Rockets took a chance on Scotty Pippen? I do. Rox fans at bars on Westheimer were yelling shit like "Yo, we got Scotty Pimpin". I also remember being fervently against it. I alredy suspected that an overrated half-assed player without his All-Universe sidekick would amount to nothing.

Prior to this NBA season, I laughed at the idiocy of the Lakers who brought in aging all-stars like Malone and Payton to win a title. I figured that GMs would've learned by now that a bunch of stars on a team doesn't correlate to winning championships. Yup, I was right about that one too.

Look at this year's champs, the Detroit Pistons. Aside from Ben Wallace do you see any other all stars on that squad? Do you see any flashy prima donnas? Hell no. What you have is a core group of overachivers with a lot of heart and the right chemistry between them. That's what wins rings son.

Again that's why I'm strongly opposed to this deal. It doesn't make sense because it really doesn't make us better. It doesn't fill the holes. We still don't have a quality Power Forward that will bang and take pressure off Yao. Now we have a backcourt of backcourt of Lue and JJ?? That's gotta be one of the leagues's worst.

Yeah, Francis and Mobley have been turnover prone and have gotten caught up in playing "streetball" more often than fans would have liked BUT... they have also given 110% in every minute of every game. They have never been criticized of half-assed lazy play on the court. They have taken responsibility for team losses and their own mistakes. There's no denying their lack of will to win games. It was evident in the playoffs that they had matured and grown under Van Gundy's teachings.

I'm not even going to bust on TMac, Juwon, and Lue (the one with the most heart) because I feel it's only right I give them a fair shot. Besides, its totally pointless as I'm always going to be a Rox fan... No matter what.

Bottom line is, the improvment shown by our backcourt wasn't enough for the Rockets front office. Something had to be done, even if it doesn't make sense at all. It's the H-Town way.

For non-Houston residents it's really hard to understand our mentality. You see, H-Town, Texas is the least expensive metropolis in the country to live in. We get the most bang for our buck down there. We can floss a new Benz and a Mansion on a 50k salary. If our Prada and Dolce and Gabbana gear ain't the latest and greatest we throw it out and hit the Galleria to pick up the stuff that is. Then we holler to the rest of our peers... You ain't up on this, biatch!!! It's all really pointless and illogical but it's flossin... and to us flossin is all that really matters.

We use the same approach when dealing with our professional sports teams. To us crazed Rockets fans losing in the first round of the playoffs is unacceptable, especially after such a long drought. TMac's demand for a trade from, Orlando provided the perfect opportunity to bring in some new flossin' material. That's just how we do it.

Juarez 2004

I realized I needed a copy of the latest Symantec Ghost and I really didn't feel like paying $299 for something I was going to use once or twice for the next two years.

I decide to hit up my homie T, purveyor of the finest 0-day warez on the planet. For the past 3-4 years he's been hooking me up and has never asked for anything in return. An overall good guy. I've always known he was probably some capo for some dangerous warez trafficing mafia but never I bothered to inquire. Besides, if he told me he'd probably have to kill me. The conversation went like this:

sun: I know I ask you this every year but do you have a copy of the new Symantec Ghost? Thanks playa.

T: Hahaah, you want the “2003 personal edition” or “8 corporate” ?

sun: I dunno.. Whichever one you think is better. Maybe you oughta just send over the complete 2004 juarez compilation cd like you usually do ;-)

T: That was my next question – that disc has gone to DVD! And is going to press this week, you want a copy?

Woah. I gotta remember to send this guy a bottle of Scotch one day.

Piston's Dominate Lakers... Steal Title

I have to hand it to them. They embarrassed a team that was 6 to 1 favorites going into Finals. When's the last time a huge underdog came in and waxed some favorite azz? Correct me if I'm wrong but I think it was back in '95 when my beloved Houston Rockets swept the Orlando Magic during Shaq's rookie year.

To Chauncey, Rip, Sheed, Ben, Tayshaun, and the rest of the ballers and they're fans: big ups to ya.

Didn't I call it before the series began?

Houston LAstros

Before the season commenced, several sports writers tagged the Astros to win the NL Central. A couple bold ones even predicted they'd be making their first World Series appearance. Who could blame them? I mean, we always had the bats. Offensively, a lineup of Biggio, Bagwell, Berkman (the killer B's), Kent, and Hidalgo appeared as potent as the lineups of even the most dangerous clubs out there (Yup, even those guys in the Bronx). Putting runs on the board would not be an problem right? It sure hasn't been a problem these past few years. What's held us back lately was an inexperienced and erratic pitching staff. That was supposed to be corrected with a couple ingenius offseason manuevers. What better way to develop Oswalt and Miller than to bring in a couple veterans, a couple old school Texans who've won rings no less. Sounds like a flawess master plan right? Honestly, at the start of the season I truly believed the Stros sole weakness was our bullpen. It was the only imperfection in my mind.

Shieeet.

I was way off. Little did I realize that the killer B's would hit like harmless little B(itche)'s. Little did I know that they would lose their nuts whenever runners occupied bases. Little did I know that Adam Everett and Clemens would be the only Astros truly deserving of an All-Star selection.

Something's gotta be done. I just can't put my finger on it yet as it isn't obvious.

Maybe we need to pull the trigger to bring in a consistent hitter who thrives when the pressure's on. Hell, maybe we ought to call someone up from Triple A and bench Bagwell and Kent. Drayton, my man, please do something soon before the potentially best squad in Astros history ends up the worst disappointment in Astros history.

Oh yeah, one more thing. Who's brilliant idea was it to put that damn hill in the center field? Why is it I've never seen anyone else besides Biggio bust their ass on that thing? This guy agrees.

BBQ and Sake?

What the hell? That's what I was thinking when I first walked into Memphis Minnie's Southern style BBQ joint. They actually had a sign listing the different types of cold Sake they served. Only in SF i guess.

I case you don't know I've been on this neverending quest to find quality BBQ in this wretched city. So far I've checked out Big Nate's and Everett and Jones and I've been extremely disappointed. Big Nate, I know you're an NBA Hall of Famer but your BBQ would've been cut from the High School JV squad. Argh.(even though I still eat there because there's nothing else). Brother-In-Law's BBQ is next on my list to try but again, I'm not getting my hopes up. Don't get me wrong though, I'm not expecting real stuff like Rudy's or The Salt Lick like we had in down in Central Texas. Shit, even the average BBQ my wife picked up at the airport in Houston blows everything away here. I just need something, anything, that faintly resembles real Southern, finger licking BBQ.

I've checked out the reviews and I've meant to check out Minnie's for quite sometime now. Low expectations and bitch-ass parking in the Lower Haight, for the most part, have lessened the urge. But today, after watching the BBQ specials on Food Network I was fiending. I had to finally visit the place.

The ambiance was typical of any BBQ with it's bright red walls and picnic style seating. The staff was very cordial and the line to get grub was long. I was disappointed by the fact they were out of St. Louis style ribs. I guess it was just late. Who knows. So I order the rib tips and their speciality brisket (supposedly cooked for 18 hours) with macaroni/cheese and potlicker greens. The food came out quickly and I raced home eager to feast.



The ribs were greasy and it's edges were a bit overcooked. The outer texture of was similar to that of beef jerky. The brisket was succulent and tender but was definitely too fatty. The sides were average at best. What I did appreciate about the place was the fact that they didn't drench the meat in sauce which all other SF BBQ spots seem to do. If you didn't ask for the sauce on the side you were basically stuck with BBQ sauce soup with a little meat in it. In fact, MM's actually advocates tasting the meat without or just sauced lightly. That's my style, just like down in Texas. The sauce at this place is a little different as there are four types (vinegar based, mustard based, and a mild and hot sauce). A little fancy shmancy but they all tasted pretty good. I didn't get to taste the hot stuff. I didn't see it anywhere and no one offered it to me. I had read about it later on their website after I already finished stuffing myself.

Overall, for it was ok for Cali, probably a little better than Big Nate's. But since I didn't get to try the ribs I can't really give it a fair assessment. However, if MM's was in the dirty south they'd be bankrupt by now. I'll be back I guess.

Eschew Obfuscation

For some reason that's what was written on the whiteboard in our conference room when we walked into our weekly staff meeting. I had to sit there and think about what it meant while my colleagues giggled like those dudes from revenge of the nerds.

O yeah, the Pistons took it to that Laker ass once again. Told you so. Bow down to my 31337 capping skillz.

A Night to Remember



Tuesday night, after knocking back about 10 heineys (each) at our favorite pool hall, my homie G tells us announces that his friend just got a job as a doorman at the world renowned Mitchell Brothers O'Farrell Theatre. Although, I've been there a couple times for bachelor parties and such, for the most part I've tried to avoid the place because of the outrageous 40 buck entry fee. Instead, I've preferred to frequent spots like The Gold Club. But hey, tonight was different -we were getting on the "list" and besides, it would've been highly insulting to G if we declined his invitation.

As soon as we walked in, I was reminded this was no regular Gentlemens club. Only nines and tens in this place. On the main stage was a stunning blond with a body built for fucking. As she bounced her nekkid ass up and down against the pole, there were other pros rubbing their breasts in the glass shower room. Disneyland for pervs I swear. Although, I still have yet to witness that customer-controlled remote control dildo I've heard so much about.

My new homie (who's initial will remain anonymous) drags us into a dark room, hands us flash lights and instructs us to take our seats. Sexy music fills the room and soon after so do about ten hotties. One per perv. Did I mention I haven't even spent a dollar yet? Anyways, once again I'm baffled by this joint as the brunette assigned to me is suddenly rubbing her heart-shaped ass on my lap. I guess you're supposed to pay to get into this room. Soon, I'm sporting a chubby and she's stroking it with her hand she gets me off balance by whispering in my ear "you know we could go to the back room and you could f*** me". What the hell? I've never had a tiddy dancer say some shit like that to me before. With heart and cock throbbing, I dug deep within myself, tapped into my last resevoir of willpower and declined with a smile. :) My dancer, the trooper she is, gives me a kiss on the cheek and walks away. Wow, I actually got a free lapdance, at O'Farrells Theater no less. An experience I'll never forget.

Tree Hugger Alert



We received an email last week warning us to either work from home or exercise extreme caution when walking to the office this week. Why you may ask?

BIO 2004 is in town.

And in San Francisco, that means trouble. All the crazy militant tree huggers will be out in full force trying to disrupt the damn thing. Word on the street is this one's going to be huge too. Crazy militant tree huggers, supported by their inheiritances and trust funds, from all over the world will be flying in to wreak havoc. So I'm thinking, kewl, I wanna see some thugged out hippies harrassing some bigwig execs. That would be hella entertaining. I decided I would not work from home today.

So I'm walking to work, camera in hand ready to see some crazy shit go down. To my dismay, all I see is a bunch of snotty suits, police barricades, and buses full of riot control cops. Where the fuck are the tree huggers? Did they all party too hard last night? Are they still all hungover from all the granola bars, homemade beer, tree fucking? What the hell? I could've worked from home. Argh.

I did get to see this one milf correspondent from ABC (I don't know who she is but I'll post it if I find out) and she was smokin... While I slowed down to check out her ass she dropped something on the ground and bent over to pick it up. Me and about a dozen bio tech execs stood there drooling hoping to catch a glipse of a pink thong riding high on her hips but didn't see it.. Maybe she wasn't wearing panties. Who knows. Aww man... she was dope.

UPDATE:

I just found out that the tree huggers are still hiding out and strategizing for tomorrow. Apparently tomorrow is when the real shit goes down:

San Francisco, California: SHUT-DOWN
Tuesday, June 8th 2004 6:30 am
Come to Market & Powell on the morning of June 8th at 6:30am to get an action orientation and to plug-in

On the first day of the G8 meetings in Georgia, thousands will pour into San Francisco's streets to SHUT-DOWN the biotech-pharmaceutical industry's annual gathering of corporate execs and lobbyists -- BIO 2004.

This event is in solidarity with actions at Georgia's G8, and in recognition of the fact that corporate powers -- like the bio-pharmaceutical lobby -- are the driving force behind the policies of the G8 that result in imperialist wars, environmental destruction, racial & economic oppression, and the hostile takeover of the Commons.

Wow... I can't wait to see some burnt out hippie losers throwing rocks at some pussy-ass profiteering gluttons... all from my comforts of my aero chair and pimped out cubicle with a view. I swear this is going to be like a good Monday Night Football game. Heehee.

Lakers Lay Down in Game 1

Did I call it or what? Shit, even with my bold prediction I still may have underestimated Detoit...

Last night, I witnessed a display of courage and heart as the Detroit Pistons dominated the Lakers in ways most wouldn't have believed possible. Can you believe they scored more in this game than in any game in the Indy series? Can you belive they held the Lakers' 3rd leading scorer to 5 points?? I know it's only Game 1 and it's way to early too start celebrating that that asshole Karl Malone will never get a ring but you really have to give the Pistons credit. They really bent over LA and didn't quit pounding until the final buzzer went off and the score read 87-75 Pistons. Afterwards, the Shaq and the boys could only shake their heads in disbelief. BWAHAHAHAHA!!!

Freaky Jessica

At least she keeps it real... Jessica Alba, the hottest chick in the universe, has been quoted saying "It seems that people only have really freaky sex with people that you don't know that well." The link can be found here.

I always sensed she was freakier than most.

Hey Jessica, since I don't know you at all, I'd like to plead my case on why we need to get together. Ohh.. the freaky things we could do... Get at me babydoll.

Bukowski: Born into This

O jeah, one thing that deserves attention.

Wednesday, night after finding a parking spot right in front and scarfing down a quick meal at Cordon Bleu (which made us late) wifey and I rushed into the Lumiere off California and Polk to watch Bukowski: Born into This.

Man, let me just say watchng the documentary about Bukowski's life was a treat. Before watching the movie I'd only read a few of his books and seen his photo a few times so I was very impressed. It's amazing how the man had absolutely nothing going for him: an abusive upbringing, borderline poverty, and facial disfigurement, yet he's managed to capture the hearts and minds of many by overcoming... on his own terms. He did it by writing poems and stories that were utterly and painfully real, with his head held up high, a drink in his hand, and his nuts hanging.

Buk, you are the man...

I'm Going Blind

Holy Shit -That was the expression on my Optometrist's face after she performed a routine pressure test on my right eye. She tested it again to make sure she wasn't hallucinating and yup, same results: the pressure in my right eye was nearly off the charts. Her reaction was undeniably one of urgency. My problem was way out of her league and I needed to get it taken care of today. Right now.

So she refers me to a glacoma specialist off of Bush and Hyde. I got time to kill so I decide to walk, besides I could already tell this was going to be expensive. Fuck spending a money on a cab.

The specialist was a very confident and intelligent young woman. Frankly, I can't even remember if she was pretty so... no, I wasn't jockin her. She could've looked like Denise Richards and I wouldn't of noticed (seriously). All that was on my mind was the question of whether or not I'd soon be blind.

Anways, She runs various tests which involve dropping various solutions into my eyes then viewing my eyes through strong lenses while I stared into very bright lights. At one point while peering into my right eye she goes "ahhh I see what's going on here". I notice I start to sweat a bit even though it's about 50 degrees in the examination room. Shit, she just found what's about to make me blind. She turns off all the equipment, scribbles stuff into her notebook, smiles, and says she'll be right back. Finally she returns and explains the bad news: I have an eye disease called Posner-Schlossman Sydrome, which is a type of rare form of glaucoma, characterized by extreme eye pressue attacks for periods lasting a few hours to several weeks. The disease is found mainly in younger patients usually from the age of 20 to 40 and it's cause of it is competely unknown. The good news is she checked out my optic nerve, which is the most important component of the inner eye as it connects the eye to the brain, and it's 100% healthy. And I can still drink alcohol and wear contacts (Yes, I had to ask). I'm fortunate to have come in soon after showing symptoms she says as the high pressures have done no permanent damage whatsoever. Whew.

Now for the treatment. I've gotta take 4 different types of eye drops 6-7 times a day total. There goes my pimp game dropping a few more percentage points more... I can just imagine myself at a bar while in the company of a nice young tender on my nuts and saying "hey babygirl, hold up i gotta take my medication" and proceed to drop various solutions into my eye. No, that wouldn't be sexy at all. Shit. But hey, I'll live with it, take the medicine consistently, and in all hope, this will pass.

Go Pistons

Yesterday, a friend and I had an interesting discussion on whether it would be worth it to place a small wager on Detroit to win the finals. The initial odds were +550, meaning you could lay down $100 to win $550 if Detroit could pull it off. Question is, do they even have the slimmest of chances? Will Ben Wallace be able contain Shaq? Can Tayshaun and Rip put Kobe on lockdown? What role will Karl and Gary's hunger for their first ring play in the Laker's success?

My friend, the guru, suggests that on paper, the Pistons have a legitimate shot to win this thing for the following reasons: They play some serious D, Kobe will get worn out chasing Rip around all game, Karl and Gary are just too old, and Tayshaun on Kobe could prove effective considering his length and his ability to recover after getting beat early off the dribble. Simply, the Lakers aren't that good compared to West Finals representatives from the past while the Pistons are one of the better, if not the best, team from the East since the Bulls.

While I don't agree completely (Kobe will absolutely own Tayshaun and Rip), my boy has a solid point.

The Lakers are not that good.

In fact, I'd even go so far to say that they don't even belong...

What if the Rockets didn't choke in the final minutes of games 1 and 4? We would've been in the drivers seat with a 3-1 lead. I know damn well we would've let our nuts hang and won 1 of the next 3.

Next, what would've happened if Fish's shot didn't drop with .45 (or whatever it was) seconds left on the clock in the Spurs series? San Antonio wouldn't have lost confidence and given up. Instead, the pussy-ass Spurs play like they got their balls chopped off in game 6.

Finally, Minnesota. What if Sam "I Am" didn't suffer the hip injury? The results would've clearly been different. Not only would Sam have contributed 22-27 points per game and provided the Wolves with a leader at the one, but he would've knocked down key shots in the clutch.

I guess one could argue that the Lakers are a team of destiny and all that crap but not in my eyes. They got lucky. Bastards.

Go Pistons.

Eye Woes

If it ain't one thing its another. I've finally rid myself of those nasty vertigo problems (knock on wood). Now I'm dealing with a very unpleasant eye problem. My right eye is constantly red, itchy, and sometimes even stings a bit. After wearing my contacts for a few hours vision from my right eye is blurred. It gets cloudy and if I stare directly into a source of light I see perfectly circlular color rings around it. I've been taking some Naphcon drops two or three times a day. Although the drops are effective in temporarily taking the redness away, the vision problems persist.

Fuck.

What the hell is wrong with me?? I swear i'm playing a game of whack-a-mole with my body again. You'd think shit would just heal itself after awhile, especially since I'm no longer under duress. I suppose its just something that comes with age.

What sucks most is the fact that I've been trying to grow my hair out a little and these frames only look good with short hair. And since I can't bear to wear my contacts longer than couple hours at a time I've been forced to wear these glasses. Consequently, my confidence and my pimp game has dropped some...

I've got an appointment with my Optometrist tomorrow... Let's hope it ain't anything serious.

I'm Back

What can I say other than it feels good to have that monkey off my back.

Did I do well?

Who knows. Who cares. Those damn exams are behind me know and there's nothing I can do to improve my scores now. I refuse to let thoughts of pending grades occupy my mind.

Immediately after my last exam I wandered around Berkeley trying to find a bar to unwind in. To my dismay all I could find were annoying coffee houses full of pretentious intellectuals babbling about politics and listening to whiny classical music. Nothing wrong with that but I wanted to get down. Screw having a beer in one of those spots. I guess I was just on the wrong side of campus. I just said fuck it, and hopped on a BART train back into the city. I got home and poured myself a nice wholesome serving of Laphroaig (neat) and flipped through my contact list to find someone who wanted to party at 3pm. I meet with my homies E and S up at the GE and start drinking. After a couple drinks we realize the place was a little to tame for our appetite so we hit up another spot in the Tenderloin.

Long story short, I drank about 18 Becks and Heineys, 3 nasty lemon drop shots and several healthy lines of Columbia's best export. I vaguely remember macking to the hottest chick in the whole place (a 7 at best) and feeling hella stupid afterwards. I didn't give a fuck since I was too drunk. She'll be there next time anyways.