Whoops…My Bad

January 30, 2007 at 4:29 am (Uncategorized)

Sorry everyone, I posted the same thing twice…dammit, I’m such a dunce!! Actually, my internet sucks.

Later Greg

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Random Stuff…Yo!

January 30, 2007 at 4:27 am (Uncategorized)

What’s up yo,

How’s life? Good? Glad to hear it. I just got (have) some random thoughts tonight: Here we go!

First of all, there’s an ad on TV these days that’s really been bothering me. Its a Bud Light ad, and though I like most beer ads, I feel like they’ve been getting dumber and dumber over the years, and this one takes the cake. The story: some guys get rubber floors installed in their apartment. The reason: so they can bounce Bud Lights to each other off the floor, leading to one roomate stating “We’ll never break a Bud Light again.” First of all, broken beer bottles are a part of life: we should all just learn to live with this. Second of all of, not only would bouncing beer bottles off the floor send them crashing into walls and ceilings, leaving chards of glass everywhere, the people trying to catch the beers would undoubtably have glass bottles smash off their faces. It would be a catastrophe, especially if those bouncing/catching the beers were a few beers deep. On top of all this, there’s a million other reasons to have rubber floors installed, like bouncing remotes to each other (which the ad mentions), or easily cleaning up spills. Why would you install rubber floors just to bounce beer bottles around? Still, I’d like to hang out at their place and bounce beer bottles around.

2) There’s a group in Boston, and I think in other cities, called Drinking Liberally. Its a group in which young liberals meet with each other to discuss politics and drink booze. Now, I’ve never been to a meeting, so I’m really not one to talk, but here’s a few suggestions I have for the group:

Invite a few conservatives, maybe a moderate or two, and then a few people who don’t know a damn thing about politics and are pretty stupid in the first place. I mean, wouldn’t this be more interesting? Look, I don’t like to discuss politics, so maybe this is just me, but I think it would be boring as hell at a Drinking Liberally meeting. I can see it now:

“Great idea. I totally agree with you.”

“Yah, I agree too”

“Yah, me too.”

“Hey wait a minute…so do I! Weird!!”

God, spare me. I’d probably fall asleep after a couple of brews. But if you threw a few a conservatives in their, things might get interesting. It might look like this:

“Hey, great idea!”

“Yah, you said it!’

I disagree…you slimy Commie bastard!!”

Now thats fun. Throw in the guy who nows nothing about politics, and you’ve got something like this:

“I agree. Great idea!”

“You Socialist bastards make me wanna puke!”

“Hey, dude, my shit smells like fruit!”

Now, we’ve got something. Anger, incompetence, stupidity…my idea of a good time. Because when I go out, I’m looking to have a good time…not to be bored out of my mind. They’ve already got alcholol, making people more stupid, incoherent, short-tempered, and funny: just throw in some interesting people, and, VALWA, you’ve got a recipe for a fun Friday night.

An even cooler idea would be to have “Extreme Drinking Liberally”, and invite some radical conservatives, radical liberals, a few random criminals, and let people bring weapons. Totally Awesome!!

3) On a related note, I’ve been thinking of creating my own group, called Drinking Conservatively. This would not be a political group: instead, it would be a play on the play on words that Drinking Liberally created. For instance, from hearing of a group called Drinking Liberally, you might mistakenly think that this was a group who drank liberal amounts of alchohol, leading you to show up with a 30-pack and find a politcal discussion under way. Booooooring!! In my case, I would hope to have people say, “Hey, a group where we can have a conservative political discussion and drink together, alright!,” leading them to show up and find us truly drinking conservativily. No one would be allowed to have more than one drink in a half hour period; definitely no hard liquor; and members would be required to say things like “Hey, take it easy, you’re driving!” and “Wow, wow, slow down, thats how people get hurt!” I think this would be hilarious: somehow, I don’t think anyone else would.

4) I think Frosted Mini-Wheats have to be considered one of the top five cereals of all-time. Anyone who wants to discuss, feel free. I just think it deserves a place there.

5) If I was a really brillant scientist, my highest priority would be to create a medicine that could soothe your lips and gums after eating massive amounts of Sour Watermelons and Sour Patch Kids. I believe this to be extremely important!! Thats why its a good thing I’m not a madly brillant scientist.

6) I think people should dress up for Valentine’s Day. I mean really, all that we do is buy candy and flowers for our signifigant others. We can’t actually dress up as a flower, or maybe smear chocolate all over our bodies and dance in a “Valentine’s Day Ritual.” Lets face it, this holiday sucks: we need to spice it up a little. I think a really good Valentine’s Day outfit would be a “Flaming Heart”, in which someone is actually lit on fire in a fire retardant suit shaped like heart. That’d be sooooo AWESOME!!!

7) I think it would be cool if the GPS systems in cars had names, like Larry. Everytime I turned my car on it would say “Hello, Greg.” And I could be like “What’s up, Larry?” And then he’d be Larry, simple as that. If I wanted to change it to Ralph, or maybe Ernie, later on, I could do it without a problem.

8) If I could be any bird in the world it would be an albatross: I mean, c’mon, they fly across the oceans. It would have to be before planes existed, though, cause it would suck something righteous to get sucked into one of those bad boys. I considered being a penguin, but those Leopard Seals are real bastards.

9) Whosever reading this bad boy, I’m out. I’ve stayed up way to late writing this thing: but I gotta say, its been fun. See you later, loser. (Just kiddin).

Greg

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Blank Blog!!!

January 30, 2007 at 4:27 am (Uncategorized)

Hey Everyone,

It’s a blank blog!!! There’s nothing here!!! Its totally awesome!!!!

Thanks for stopping by!!!!!!!

Greg

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Boogie Down Boston, Part 1

January 28, 2007 at 2:54 am (Uncategorized)

Okay, its time to talk about the city I live in, grew up in, and love like a family member: Boston. I have always, always loved this city: I always will. I remember as a little kid taking the Redline, and crossing the Longfellow Bridge, and having a choice: looking out one towards the skyscrapers, or the other way towards the sailboats. On a sunny day in Boston, there’s not a better view in the city.

I remember going to the New England Aquarium, and spending hours looking at all the tanks, and naming all the fish in the middle tank (for some reason my friends were always impressed when I knew the name of the ‘cobia,’ a gamefish native to Florida and the tropics). I remember going to the Mugar Omni Theatre and always flinching when Roger Clemens threw his fastball at the crowd. And really remember growing up nearby in the city of Somerville, and loving the attitudes and way of life that I saw everyday. I left at the age of eighteen to be in the mountains of Vermont: and every day I was there, even though I loved it, I missed Boston badly.

So knowing all this, it might come as a shock that I have some issues with Boston. But, the truth of the matter is, I have some issues with Boston. Its mainly stuff that you don’t pick up on as a kid: in fact, its stuff that you really don’t pick up on until you hit the age of 21. Its little things, never the big picture. But as any sports or movie fan will tell you, more often than not its the little things that push the team over the top/make the movie truly great. And in Boston’s case, its the little things that annoy the hell out of me.

Some of the these little things in Boston are commonplace in other parts of the country: the 2am bar closing time, the fact that beer, wine and booze needs to be bought at liquor stores; the time limit on buying alcohol. When you’re eighteen, none of this matters, because you can’t do anything anyway, so everything you’re doing, essentially, is illegal. But when you become twenty-one, something miraculous happens: you look down at your driver’s license, realize that you are twenty-one, leading you to jump into the nearest car, drive to the nearest liquor store, and buy a six-pack of any type of beer (this is what happened to me, atleast). I remember the guy at the counter looking at my license, looking at me, nodding, and letting me pay for alcohol (he didn’t wish me happy birthday, though). It was the Six-Pack Miracle of June 6, 2003.

After that, everything got pretty normal: I could go to bars, buy booze, pretty do anything I wanted except rent a car and run for President (both of which I still can’t do). But the point was clear: I was a free man.

At the time I was living in Vermont for most of the year, where alcohol can be bought at grocery stores. In fact, the grocery store I worked at had one of the best micro-brew selections in town. Working till midnight, I used to go pick and choose what I wanted around 11:45, scope out for any customers, and ring myself through (this was all done with the manager’s knowledge, it might be added.) As long the receipt was printed before 12am, it was a totally legal purchase: the receipt clock, in actuality, was four minutes slow, so I could actually record the sale at 12:03 Eastern time and still have a legal purchase. I never tried this, but the point was made: what difference did it make, if I, say, bought the beer four minutes later? Was it really that big of a deal?

Ofcourse, this point that I make is totally skewed and off the point: the law pertains to millions of people (or in Vermonts case, thousands) making potential purchases of sales in endless situations. But it still lead me to this conclusion: the law doesn’t make much sense.

After five years in Vermont, it was time for me to come home to Boston: I had fallen out of touch with some people, was a little (actually, very) sick of the whole scene, and really ached to be back in an actual city. So I did: found an apartment, found a job, started hanging out with all my old friends. It was great: and to top it off, I was in an actual city now, with an actual bar scene (Burlington, VTs bar scene is actually fine, I will come back to this), that I could actually enjoy. The first night home going out to the bars, we headed to Fanueil Hall: an awesome place, a place I knew well from my childhood, crawling with tourists and street performers during the day. And we went to a bar: and I don’t remember much, but what I know is that it kinda sucked, it was kinda dark, kinda loud, really expensive, and at the end of the night, I was a little disapointed. The next weekend we went back out, and the same thing happened. Within a month, I was longing for the bars of Vermont.

Before I go any further, I want to say that there are cool bars in Boston: people reading this blog might start saying that I’m a moron who hasn’t explored enough to know anything. The Sunset Bar & Grille in Allston, for example, is the bomb if you wanna chill and drink a lot of different types of beer. There are plenty of bars in Boston where great times can be had. But the whole system is flawed: the bar types are generally segregated from each other (meaning clubs are usually clumped together, ect..), there isn’t enough variety for a major city, and, most importantly, the bars close at two.

This was a law in Vermont, also, and always annoyed me: usually because it was freezing outside and we had to find a place to go after 2: once in a while there was an after party or something, but usually things just sort of died. But in Boston, it hurts it much more: the bar scene never really gets to die down properly: instead, masses of people empty onto the streets, restless, leading to fights and headaches trying to find cabs. But this comes back to the law about buying booze before twelve (eleven in MA). Why? Seriously, why?? I mean, when I turned twenty-one, I jumped in a car and bought a six-pack. Whose to say I wouldn’t jump back in my car after my purchase, crack open all six beers, drink them in celebration, and drive around like a maniac. I was a lot more imature back then, it easily could have come to that. Is that what legislators are thinking when they make these laws: the longer these grown adults who can legally drink stay in this bar, the more likely they are to murder someone, or act unrationally? Lets shut down the bars!! Thats the answer!!

I’m sorry, but the scene in Fanueil Hall at 2am proves that this is wrong: people are restless, guys are trying to fight each other, its a mess. There are to many people at once: if the bars closed at 4, or even 3, this wouldn’t happen: people would trickle out gradually, there would be more cabs, less fights. Boston at night would be a better place. Maybe people think there would be less drunk driving, buts it pretty naive to think it would be any better at 2am than 4am. If drunk driving is the issue, maybe all bars should be shut down at 8pm, just to be safe. Maybe subways could stay open on weekends only (I know they have to do maintenance every night, and don’t have the luxury of having double tracks like New York). Whatever, if drunk driving is the reason bars are only open till 2am, then that is pure idiocy.

None of this explains why so many of the bars in Boston suck, but they do. But this is a problem to tackle for another time. Along with these other various problems: the lack of anything to eat late (which is really, really pathetic), the 1am closing time of many bars (which is not quite as pathetic as the lack of food, but almost), and the difficulty of finding a cab late in Boston.

Well, whatever. I’m done bitching for the night. For the time being, I am outa here! You all be safe and have a great weekend! Peace out.

Greg

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The Moment

January 28, 2007 at 1:51 am (Uncategorized)

Hi everyone,

This is a fictional story, I don’t know if you’ll like it or not. This didn’t really happen to me, honest. I’ll do some brainstorming and try to think of more cool stuff to write about.

The moment a gun is put to your head, everything changes.

First, you feel the cold steel of the instrument; then, the world starts back to color. Its not that the world is black and white during this moment; instead, it is simply a “void,” a void of all color.

As I stood in the room, my first throughts were wholly instinct: danger, danger, danger, stay calm. The heart beat within me rose, and steadied off at that rate. Looking forward, I saw death: we were having a staring contest.

If the trigger was pulled, surival would not be possible. Although at the time it didn’t occur to me, everyone’s seen that picture in the textbooks of a bullet going through an apple, the white goop spraying everywhere. In this instance, my head would be that apple. And this was the reality of the moment.

I do not know how long the moment lasted. It lasted. And at the moment the gun was lifted from the side of my head, it was over. An indent was left in my temple: I could feel the indent popping out, to match the rest of my head.

The face in front of me laughed.

“Man, you should have seen yourself: I thought you were gonna shit a brick. This thing ain’t even loaded, bro! Your white as paste.” A second passed, and another, and another. “Dude, are you alright?”

I wasn’t. I turned away. Put my head down.

“I’m sorry, man, Jesus, I was just messin around. What were you thinking, that I would pull the trigger?”

I answered. “I don’t know.”

I didn’t know; I couldn’t remember; I didn’t want to: the moment was over.

Greg Hovanesian

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The Art of Hating

January 23, 2007 at 4:20 am (Uncategorized)

What’s up ya’ll,

My good friend Marcus asked to write a little bit about haters, so here goes nothing:

Haters are people that “hate”, because they don’t have, aren’t as good, or don’t have and aren’t as good as someone else. A good hater always knows how to spoil a good moment for someone else at the perfect time: take for instance, this example: a successful neighbor with a good-lookin wife and cool car holds a summertime bar-b-q for his other neighbors. This guy may be likeable and he may not be, but everyone on the block shows up. Its a cookout: thats food and beer, which usually equals a good time. Now despite what people may think of him, they put on their happy faces, because he’s opened up his house to them, and they have to live in pretty close proximity. But there might be one guy, over in the corner, who simply has to “hate.” Now, before we go any further, we need to define the usage of the word “hate” as it is being used here. The man in the corner of the backyard by himself does not hate this successful man: he may envy, but also deeply admire him; therefore he does not hate the man himself, which would be the proper thing to do. A “real man” would hate this more successful man’s guts, tell him this, and pretty much make his life a living hell until violence came about. But the “hater”, as the term is being used here, does not do that. Instead, he hates the man’s “success.” Everything successful about him: his car, his wife, his house, his smart, honor roll kids, his dog who won the local dog show, even his parents who visit him every two weeks with a fresh cooked ham. This man usually does not come out in the open and admit his hate: he talks behind his back, spreads rumors to the other neighbors: in other words, he does everything to minimize the success of his enemy.

The term hater is actually the shortened version of “player hater”, which arose from the hip-hop world in the mid-1990s. Puff Daddy and the Notorius B.I.G. were well known for talking about “player haters,” implying that they were the “players”, and everyone envious of them were the “haters”. The term “player”, incidentally, comes from the 1970s, when the first “Player’s Ball” was held in Chicago. In this case, the term “player” referred to pimps. This was a large, organized, and national event, in which the same pimp (Bishop Don Magic Juan) won 13 straight crowns as “Pimp of the Year”. This event, in turn, was brought into the mainstream in 2001 with the HBO documentary, “Pimps Up, Hoes Down.” A couple years later, comedian Dave Chappelle spoofed this documentary on his Comedy Central show “Chappelle’s Show.” The spoof was called the “Player Hater’s Ball,” conveying pimp-like figures competing to be the biggest “hater,” bringing this conversation full circle.

In New England, the terms “Patriot Haters” and “Red Sox Nation Haters” have risen in recent years due to these teams respective success, but I will in no way, whatsoever, go any further on this particular part of the discussion.

So if you were not accustomed to the term, now you are. The next time you are in a situation with your friends, and you feel like someone is “hating on you”, as the phrase goes, let them know “you don’t get down like that”, meaning, “I don’t appreciate that you are hating on my success without letting me know about it.” And that, everyone, is a brief discussion about haters. Peace out.

Greg

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I Want to be a Good Blogger, Dammit!

January 21, 2007 at 2:11 am (Uncategorized)

Hey whats up, I know someone’s reading this because I just told about a 80 people about it on MySpace; I haven’t even gotten to Facebook yet. All of the sudden, I feel like a problem’s growing: I just told a bunch of people to read my blog, and I feel like I need to write something new.

So here it is: Something New.

It’s interesting with blogs: you’re not really a journalist because you’re not getting paid, there’s no deadlines, and no one’s telling what to write about. I feel kinda cool: I can use words like kinda and not get yelled at, and I can write about nonsense, I can just write crap that doesn’t make sense, Gregismynameandthatsmystory, but honestly, I don’t really want to do any of that. I want to sort of keep a format here, like: sports, TV, movies, whatever, sports, TV, movies, food, whatever. But its tough to do: sometimes you need someone yelling in your ear, telling you “Just write about these damn tree frogs and then we’ll get to what you want to do.” Maybe I need a blog boss: someone to tell me what to write about when, dammit.

I’m not saying I’m not gonna do alright: I think I’ll do just fine, I’ve got like 15 subjects written down on a piece of paper right now. Its just that I can see how people can stray, and start writing about whatever the hell they want: and at that point, all Hell breaks loose and it might be interesting to only me. I don’t want that: I want people to look at this and say “Hmm, that Greg has a point;” or maybe “Dammit Greg, I hate your guts and plan on beating the crap out of you the next time I see you, but I gotta say, you bring up a good point.” And now that I know that at least someone from MySpace is reading this, I feel like I owe whoever you are a service. So I will try my best not write stuff that I only I find funny or entertaining; I’m gonna try to be a Good Blogger, Dammit! If you don’t like what I write, just lemme know: I know I’ll be running into some of you on the street, don’t be afraid to let me know you’ve got a problem with me.

I’m gonna wrap this up: Its Saturday night and I got places to be. Just wanted to let anyone know that just stopped by for the first time what my blog’s all about. Thats it. I will be writing more stuff. For now, I’m peacing out. Stay Real.

Greg

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The Wrong Right Decision

January 19, 2007 at 4:04 am (Uncategorized)

Hey Everyone,

This is another sports heavy post, just warning ya.

The big news yesterday in the sports world, among other stories, was that Marty Schottenhiemer had been re-hired as the San Diego Chargers head coach. Rumors and speculation had been flying around for 48 hours that Marty was going to be fired, due partly to his coaching meltdown and partly to his icy relationship with his boss, but in the end the Chargers brass decided to bring Marty back for atleast another year in a somewhat complicated contract.

Before people jump on the Chargers for re-hiring this guy, and a lot of people already have, we all have to realize that Marty Schottenheimer is a great football coach; in fact, he’s one of the most established in the NFL, and he’s well respected around the league. Marty is, by all accounts, a “player’s coach.” There’s something about the guy that feels good: guys like playing for him, and as a motivater in the locker room he’s supposedly unmatched. While his playoff record is only 5-12, his regular season record is great: he has the most wins on any coach who has never won a Super Bowl.

The Chargers were certainly faced with a dilemna: “Do we fire an undeniably great coach, who the players love playing for, simply because he has a rocky record in the playoffs? Do we really want to disrupt team chemistry at this point in our franchise’s history, when we have arguably the most talented team in the entire NFL, and will most likely be in the playoffs again next year?” With these questions facing them, the Chargers made the right decision: they offered a contract extension and gave Marty another chance. In these circumstances, it really isn’t right to fire a great coach for reasons like this.

A few years ago, the Boston Red Sox were faced with a similar decision. Grady Little, the manager of the team at the time, was leading the Red Sox against the hated New York Yankees in the 2003 ALCS: they were one game away from the World Series. And against all odds, in the final game of the series, the Sox were poised to travel to the Promised Land of the World Series, a land in which they had not triumphed in 85 years at the time. Aging superstar Pedro Martinez was pitching in the game: he had a season long history of losing his good stuff, dramatically, around the seventh inning. On this particular night, Pedro pithced well into the sixth inning, and the Sox did enough on offense so that the game was in their hands. And then, in the seventh inning, the seams started come undone: the Yankees started hitting Martinez, and though they were able to get out of the inning relatively unscathed, it seemed dramatically obvious that it was time to bring in the bullpen, who had been very good up to this point. So what happened? Inexplicably, Pedro was left in the game, and as confused, frightened, and enraged Red Sox fans watched around the world, Pedro was shelled and the game was tied. Pedro was yanked, but the damage was done: in extra innings, the Yanks won on a walk-off homer. It was a horrible, horrible night for Red Sox fans.

At this point, we need to talk about Grady Little. Little, in his two years with the Red Sox, was a very, very good baseball coach. He was a simple country boy who gave amusing press conferences, but he got the job done: the Sox played very well under him, and the general consensus was that he was a “player’s coach.” The guys on the team really liked playing for him: he knew how to manage a clubhouse, let the guys with egos have their way, and generally steer the ship in the right direction. That’s really all you have to do as a baseball coach. Grady excelled at this: there wasn’t a mean streak in the guy, but he got them to work. But Grady had some problems, which became noticable to anyone who followed the Sox through the regular season: he made bone-headed decisions during games. In fact, some of them were downright inexplicable for a major league manager. He pulled batters out of games at the wrong times; he left pitchers in for too long and didn’t go to the bullpen at the right times: in general, he was kind of a goofball, and the media and fans worried about this all season. It was not breaking news coming into the playoffs that Grady was somewhat of a loose cannon. But in what seemed to be a completely unlosable game, Sox fans just assumed the Grady would have enough sense not to doom everything to Hell. But he did. He dropped an atomic bomb on the Red Sox season and Red Sox fans, and this was unforgivable.

It didn’t take Red Sox management long to make a decision: they fired Grady Little, good coach that he was. Some in the local media brought up the point that he was a pretty good coach and it was unjustified, but for the most part the consensus was “good riddance.” Those most affected seemed to be the players: I distincly remember captain Jason Variteck being visibly upset about the decision: the media and fans may have hated the guy, but the players liked him. The important part of the story is what happened next: the Sox hired another manager, another guy with very little charisma, who seemed if anything to be a little more bland. A few postitions on the roster were tweaked: and in the following season, the Sox swept the St. Louis Cardinals in the World Series. Grady Little forgotten.

Looking back, the Sox probably made the wrong decision: they fired a guy genuinely liked by the players, who could handle a high profile team and a vicious local media. They were only one inning and a bad decision away, surely Grady wouldn’t make the same mistake twice? Why fire the guy just for one bad decision? The reason: because, inevitably, the same or similar mistake would be made again. Some people learn from their mistakes, some don’t: Grady is one of the latter. When the leader of a team, or business, or government, or anything of this nature, is a liability, despite his popularity and ability to lead, he or she simply has to go.

And this is why, by making the right decision and keeping a respected head coach, the Chargers have handicapped their team. Throwing Marty’s record out the window for the moment, I have watched two playoff games which prove to me that he will almost certainly never win a Super Bowl: the game in the first round against the inferior New York Jets two years ago, when he played “Marty Ball”, a term named after himself in which ultra-conservative tactics allow the other team to win despite being the lesser team; and this past Sunday’s game against the Pats, in which he inexplicably played too aggressively and made some of the most bizarre coaching decisions anyone has ever seen, costing his team in the end. I would not be surprised at all if the San Diego Chargers make the Super Bowl next year, perhaps even listed as favorites in Las Vegas: but deep in my heart I know Marty will never, ever, win the big game. He will find a way to screw it up, despite being a great coach. The Chargers should have done the what the Sox did two years ago: make the wrong decision, and do the right thing.

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Hello world!

January 15, 2007 at 10:37 pm (Uncategorized)

Welcome to WordPress.com. This is your first post. Edit or delete it and start blogging!

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