Mustache Rides!

Alright, here's the new cool. I've seen two rat tails on people in the last two weeks. For Aussie and the rest of the FFX Eagles- this does not include Naysan. I've actually seen two kids this week with rat tails. Goddamn.

Anyway, in the interest of bringing back old fashion trends, you friend Yankee is going to bring back the mustache. It's like bringing sexy back, but to an exponential power. I am going to thicken up the mustache portion of my goatee this week, then next week the chin portion gets shaved and I rock a mustache like its never been rocked before.

If you would like to get involved in this little side project, please get started on your own mustache. At the end of September, if Aussie and I agree that your mustache is of above average coolness, I will meet you for drinks, buy you a few beers and shots, and be your wingman for whatever girl you might want to hit on. That cant be beat. Here's a preview:



That's Miles Davis cool.

--Yankee

Message Board Fixed!

Good day, Citizens.

I've finally, after a few days of wrangling and someone cutting the internet cable in the neighborhood, gotten the message board working. Sorry to hear that Aussie is having trouble with the fine people of London. . . What did you expect? Everyone over there is so non-confrontational- of course they would dredge up your wallet like magic and expect that you wouldn't make a fuss when it was returned. You should have turned over that table. . .

Anyhow, the message board is working and we're sponsoring three contests for our intrepid readers. If you've chosen to spend some of your time reading the Long Crawl, obviously you're someone of above average intelligence and taste. Congratulations.

Now, we're going to separate the real creative ones from the scraps. On the message board, linked on the right hand side of the page, you'll find a new category entitled "Interactive". Under this heading there are three new tabs for our three contests to get you involved. One is for your submissions regarding new Olympic sports. Aussie Wallet Theft has already been taken.

Secondly and thirdly, you can submit your original Haikus and Limericks. I've provided samples to get you started. At the end of September, we'll vote on winners to these two contests and announce winners. If everything goes according to plan, however, we'll feature these original, reader-submitted poems throughout the book that will be published at the conclusion of the Long Crawl, unless we pull a Magellan and don't make it home alive. Put your best work out there ladies- you will be recognized.

Finally, I'd like to recognize three early friends of the Long Crawl and bestow upon them their official Long Crawl handles. These are the three people that have done the most thus far to get us recognized. Bless them.

First of all- this friend of the Long Crawl will be known as Golem. His real initials are B.N. He is a loss prevention agent during the day, a hospitality specialist at night, and proud father of two adorable children. This person is one of the founders of a group that has become an official friend of the Long Crawl- the group known a Leisure Wednesday- a group dedicated to taking one mid-week holiday each year and making it the New Sabbath- a day of rest and respite from the toils of modern American life. Thanks Golem, you will be remembered.

Secondly, we would like to thank the Belle, initials C.H., as our second benefactor. Belle is the coolest girl anyone could hope to meet. She actually frightens men based on the fact that she'd the ideal girl you'd want to be around. She's smart, funny, knows sports, can carry a lucid conversation, etc-- and it's impossible to find that critical fault that forms an exit door for men. Guy's like to have that exit door- that fault that gives us a quick exit when we feel trapped or engaged past our comfort zone too early. The Belle doesn't have that crack in the foundation, and it seems that men might avoid getting brought into a situation that can't be easily exploited with a well lit exit sign. Good for The Belle. She'll be happy, or at least seem graciously so. We can only hope that her happiness will come as more than having a wealth of really good friends.

Our third Long Crawl benefactor will be called Butterball. Why Butterball? WHY NOT!?! Yeah, Butterball is bravest little Butterball we know. He's a young guy, trying to get the world figured out. He's brave enough to step onto the field of full contact sport with grown men. Aussie pointed this out after Butterball stepped onto the rugby pitch with grown men and held his own. He's not the most athletic or the smartest, but he has the most heart and deserves the rewards that come with that attribute. Awhile back, I decided that Butterball had sent us enough readers from his high school (yeah, he's still in high school), that we ought to make Fairfax High the Official High School of the Long Crawl. The three of us debated whether or not it was appropriate to make a project, in which drinking factors heavily, the thing to read for people under the drinking age. I agreed with Aussie on that point for awhile until I considered my own high school experience.

Your friend Yankee went to the greatest high school in the entire United States- Louisville Male High School. I recently unearthed my yearbooks from LMHS and, reading the comments my friends wrote in the margins, realized that I've never quite lived up to the person I was in high school. This is different from a lot of people I know, but I seem to miss the person that I was back then- always happy, never moody or disappointed with the world or the hand that I'd been dealt. There is a lot from those years that I didn't realize that I missed out on. Now, I'm a lot older and I've seen some of the worst that humanity has to offer. I've seen the knives in peoples backs and I've regretted the few that I've put in. I've noticed and have come to regret the cynicism that creeps in as you get old. That person- the young Yankee- over a decade ago- could have easily stood up to a lot more pressure and bad cards and ugliness than the modern Yankee. There's something to learn there.

Yeah, there's a drinking element to the Long Crawl- its part of what makes it interesting, engaging, and funny. The three crawlers are from completely different backgrounds, but at the end of the day, we all see the fundamental worth in each other and in other people in general and that's what we're trying to illustrate in this project. Butterball is a kid, not old enough to buy a pack of cigarettes or a lottery ticket. Not yet old enough to have his number pulled and have to carry a rifle against another nation in a draft like our parents did.

Ehh, anyway, the reason I got over the not-supporting-underage-drinking criterion was by remembering one alumnus (among others. Where are you, Chitwood?) of my old high school and how he's inspired me to not only write but to be observant and analytical of my surroundings, looking for the meaning of things.

Some forty years before I graduated from LMHS, the greatest Doctor of Journalism ever- maybe the only Doctor of Journalism ever- graduated from the same school. Hunter S. Thompson, the great father of Gonzo journalism walked the halls of the same school. I don't want to encourage illegal consumption of controlled substances, but I've always gotten a lot from Thomson and I've never been a drug user. Butterball stays on a patron of the Long Crawl.

I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me. --HST

Alright, this got sentimentally out of hand. God bless Golem, Belle, and Butterball. Keep reading and submit your sports and poems on the message board. Talk to you soon.

Nothing more useless than an English dentist,
Yankee.

Suggestions for the Olympics

Good day, Citizens. Sorry its been awhile since I've posted something for you. I've been busy. Anyway, I've been very conflicted about what to post today. The current situation between Georgia and Russia is pretty disturbing and I wanted to write something on that situation, but its developing very quickly and it really isn't funny at all, so I'm going to hold off for right now. I'll post that article a little later today or tomorrow morning. Now, for something completely different. . .

I've been watching the Olympics and I think that, while these games have been excellent, there's a lot of room for improvement to make the games more fair for a lot of the countries that don't win a bunch of medals. There's already some pretty obscure sports that seem to be stacked toward one particular country or other. I'm thinking here of table tennis. If you aren't Forrest Gump, you probably aren't taking home a medal unless you're Chinese.

In this article, I'd like to begin a discussion about what sports we could add to the Olympics to make it more even in the medal count for all countries. I'll start out with some examples. There is a new thread on the message board where you can leave your suggestions and together we can make it a better Olympic experience for everyone next time around.

1. Ireland.
Today, Ireland competed in the kayaking event and did not take a medal, at least in the race that I saw. In fact, Ireland to this point has won no medals at all. I propose that the IOC add an Irish Triathlon in order to give the Irish a crack at the gold. The triathlon starts in an Olympic Pub venue where the contestants each start by drinking a bottle of whiskey. While drinking, contestants have the opportunity to compose an original limerick for bonus points. Example as follows:

There once was a man named Dave,
Who kept a dead whore in a cave.
She was minus a tit,
and she smelled like shit,
but think of the money he saved!

After the whiskey is finished, the athlete fills the empty bottle with gasoline and stuffs a rag into the top. An Olympic official will light the rag with the Olympic flame as the athlete exits the pub where they must run to a police barrier at the end of the road and hurl the flaming bottle as far as possible. Points awarded for distance and any subsequent destruction of English property.

From here the athlete must proceed to a Catholic church where he or she must complete a full confession of their sins and say the rosary. Bonus points awarded for any truly egregious and/or gnarly sins that the athlete confesses during the sacrament.

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2. Puerto Rico.
Puerto Rico is technically part of the USA. They don't have representatives in the federal government, but they also don't pay federal taxes. Nonetheless, I think it would be nice for them to have a sport, and it wouldn't even involve adding a whole new sport, just a new division to an existing sport.

I propose that a Olympic fencing should add a switchblade event. This event could even take place late at night, behind the Olympic pub where the Irish Triathlon would be held. The participants might not even want it recorded on video or to be awarded medals in public. It wouldn't be too much of a hassle to add this event at all. For all we know, it might be taking place already. . .


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3. Australia.
Australia has won a few medals this Olympics, but I think Aussie will agree that they should have won more. I mean, the US and the French beat them at the men's 4x100 freestyle relay, and Phelps didn't even do as well as he should have. I thought the Aussies were supposed to be the best swimmers ever. Whah happen?

Anyway, there is a sport that is not yet part of the Olympics where the Aussies will always take home the gold. I suggest that we add it immediately:

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Now I've gotten you started. I'm sure we'll get complaints from the PETA people for the last one. Let us know what sports you think should be added to the Olympics to make them better for everyone. There's a thread on the message board, or just post them as comments. The winner will be announced following the closing ceremonies right here on the Long Crawl. I love you.

As you were,
Yankee

Thinking Outside the Box

Good evening, citizens. We've been really pleased at the turnout for the first web launch so far. The Facebook groups are gaining in number pretty quickly and we've quadrupled the number of hits to the website in just three days. Considering that only three or four people knew about it before, maybe that's not such a huge accomplishment. . .

Anyway, today's entry is about thinking outside the box to solve pressing problems. Hopefully, you'll come to expect this level of ingenuity on the Crawl. This story took place in the late afternoon yesterday when your friend Yankee was faced with the grave situation of only having three beers in the fridge and not wanting to walk the one mile to the store to get more. Let's face it- three beers is bringing a knife to gun fight for me. Three beers is that guy facing down the tank in Tiananmen Square. It's Rodney King vs. the LAPD, or the French against the Germans. If I'm going to have three beers, I might as well have a Diet Coke. I've worked for years on this tolerance and three beers just isn't going to cut it.

The nearest quickie mart is just over a mile away. We don't have a car. That's a long walk, two miles round trip. Plus, you have to carry the beer back with you. Liquid is heavy. Houston, we have a problem. I suppose I could take a night off from having a few beers, but that's not any fun, plus I have work to do on this project. Beer makes it much easier. I have my best thoughts with a few beers in me. More than three beers, that is.

Situations like this separate the men from the mice. Someone of lesser mental resources would have folded under the pressure. Truman didn't have a situation of this magnitude on his hands as he sat in the Oval Office with the order to drop a nuke laying on the desk in front of him. I wanted to achieve a respectable buzz at least and get some work done, but the world was against me. As I stared at the three beers on the bottom shelf in the fridge, still attached in their plastic rings with three empty rings next to them, I walked the route to the store in my mind. Then, like a bolt of lightning from Beer Heaven, the solution came. To call it an epiphany would be a gross understatement. Archimedes' "eureka" moment doesn't come up to the level of this idea. Raise your hand if you're ready for this one. Here it comes. . .



Yeah, blood donation. According to the police, if they can be trusted, as you consume alcoholic beverages, your blood alcohol level (BAC) increases. They've used this theory to lock up a bunch of my friends at one time or another. Luckily, thus far I've managed to escape their clutches. Let's assume their theory is true. It implies that as the the level of alcohol rises in relation to the amount of blood, the BAC goes up. Following this reason, if you reduce the amount of blood, you ought to be able to increase the BAC level faster, and most importantly, with less alcohol. Aha!

It just so happens that there is a blood donation center only a third of a mile from the house. It's on the same path that would lead to the convenience store, if one was inclined to walk that far. I placed my Yankee colors on my head, and walked out the door. I was at the door to the blood donation center in less than 15 minutes.

I've donated blood at this place before, albeit for less nefarious purposes than I now had in mind. They already had me in the system, which saved some paperwork. Today, however, it was intern day. There were four female interns in blue lab coats to differentiate them from the normal, white coated staff. They give you several options as far as blood donation. When asked which I'd like to undergo (the time involved in the various procedures varies from 20 minutes to two hours), I informed the receptionist that I'd go for whatever takes the most blood. Everything was going according to plan. She signed me up for a "double red", which means they hook you up to an "aphoresis machine" which pumps the blood out of your arm, skims off the parts that it wants to collect, then returns the remainders to your body. I was warned to avoid strenuous activity for several days. Two pints of fluid would be removed. The receptionist was almost apologetic. They really needed this type of donation right now. Thank you for coming in to help us out, Yankee. We really appreciate it.

Perfect. Along with my beers going further, I also get to feel like a minor hero. They drag you into a little room after you sign in and interrogate you regarding your travel and sexual habits. The gentleman handling my interrogation asked me if it would be alright if one of the interns came along. Three out of the four were above a seven on the hotness scale so I agreed. I got a decent brunette. I like brunettes.

The staff person ran down the list of questions, explaining to the intern what he was asking, etc. They reached the point where they got to prick my finger and draw a blood sample to make sure that I'm healthy enough to donate. She'd never done the finger prick before, at least medically. The dude got out the little device that pricks your finger and explained to her what he was doing. I withdrew my hand and calmly informed him that it was probably time that she got to try. He agreed reluctantly, as he talked her through the procedure. I looked her directly in the eyes as she jammed a needle into my finger and bled me into a small vial. Fortunately, she got it right the first time.

Getting to the point, they lead me from the room out to one of the collection chairs. Apparently, most people don't have the desire or ulterior motive to go through with this type of donation, so all the interns were gathered to watch them carry it out. I felt a little like I was being prepped for a lethal injection, with the weird machine next to the chair that they were hooking me up to. The guy handed me a current events magazine, six weeks old, and told me that my donation would take approximately 25 minutes.

I opened the magazine to a page with a graphic comparing Mariah Carey to Madonna. They claimed that Mariah Carey was the most successful female singer ever, whatever that means. I asked the guy if he agreed as he swabbed my arm down with iodine.

"Nah, man. Aretha Franklin's gotta be the queen,"

"That's a big girl." I responded

"Yeah, she's big for sure, but she's the queen."

He set me up perfectly. "Biggest queen since Freddy Mercury, right?" I asked.

He laughed so hard he dropped the needle and the iodine swab and had to start over. I'm not convinced that the interns understood what was going on, but it was funny. To take it a step further, as he was explaining how to insert the needle to the interns and stabbing it into my arm, I decided to scream. The interns jumped back, but luckily he kept his cool and taped the needle down, giggling softly. Apparently, I'm not the first person to pull that stunt. Who said blood donation couldn't be fun?

Anyway, I donated blood. Someone out there will get the benefit of the blood of a genius under pressure. Hopefully it carries over. Beyond that, the original mission was accomplished. I was a really cheap date. Three beers sent me right to the floor.

Proceed,
Yankee.


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