Pimping in the Ill-a-Delph: This is from my post on our Football Pool, it basically sums up my weekend sports wise. Other than that, i had a blast in Philly. The highlight for me was when Tommy McCrorey's drunken uncle called me and Paul a bunch of pussies about 20 times. Here's the post: "On a closing note, I might gone through the fucking worst 24 hours of sports in my life. In that small widow of time, I watched Syracuse just refuse to take a win from Pittsburg because they felt it would be more exciting to sputter all game on offense while the defense kept them in it for a decent amount of time, considering Syracuse still owns the worst secondary and Pittsburg owns the best WR in college football. That was instantly followed into the Yanks getting spanked by the Marlins and Josh Beckett proved to the world why Jon Buchalter took him with the first overall pick in fantasy baseball...LAST YEAR! That I can live with, it burns, but it would have been worse if we lost to Boston in the ALCS. The next morning after not only sleeping on a kitchen floor in Philly for no more than 3 hours after violently barfing in some bush, and having two of my top teams embarrassed in front of my eyes, I held out hope that Gang Green could somehow salvage my weekend in the Ill-a-Delph. Basically I bucked up $175 for club seats to see the Jets once again prove why J-E-T-S really spells Just End the Season. The only thing I can hang my hat on is Syracuse college lacrosse... And this all fucking happened within 24 hours. I come home around 10:300-11pm last night, hoping at least I'm still running shit in fantasy sports (since it's all I have left), and I'm getting whipped in all three of my fantasy football leagues, and had a fat 4 spot on the board by half-time of the Bills-Chiefs game. At that point, I expect the phone to ring and to find out that not only am I being fired for no reason, but I'm going to jail because my roommate freshman year look at kiddy porn on my computer while I was on Spring Break... Fuck the Mets, Giants, BC, VTech, Miami, Lenny Cooper, Karl Schapira, the Box Seats, Red Sox, and especially Alpesh. Chuck, you can stick a finger in your ass, mostly for that ridiculous request of one of us bringing you back a cheese steak from Philly."

Viva La Bianfooli: Well, just got word that Rich passed his Rhode Island Bar Exam. Kudos to Rich, he's worked hard at it. Rich is one of my best friends from college, from the days of Shaw Hall, to when we all lived in the Green Monster. This basically means I have a new lawyer. (Sorry Gary Summers, where ever you are...)

Back in Business: First off, let me apologize for not posting anything in a hot minute. Actually, I don’t owe anyone an apology, but that’s not the point. It’s been a pretty hectic two weeks for me; and between work and everything else, it’s been tough to find some free time to do much of anything. Last Friday, Mad Maxx kicked things off with a record release party at the Knitting Factory. As always, Maxx and Ethan did a great job at the show. According to the manager, they almost broke the attendance record for the Tap Room, the room they were playing at. After that, we met up with Au and Z and hit a few bars on the Lower East Side. The next morning I moved into my new apartment in the Upper East Side. Despite going on only a few hours of sleep, I managed with the help of Chris Au and PK. Pretty much got everything I need at this point. Chris Au came through with a pull out couch for only $280 and some Slim·Fast Bars. On Tuesday, PK and I took the day off work so we could go to the Yankee/Twins game. I showed up to River Ave around 11:45am, and needless to say, by 1:00 we were hammered. And in fitting fashion, the Yankees got hammered as well. Wednesday was the finale of Paradise Hotel. Sad to see it go, but when you love something, you must set it free. Charla didn’t split the money with Dave, but Keith gave his half to Tara. Needless to say, we had a little Paradise Hotel Party at my place, consisting of myself, PK, Katie, Juice, Anne, Tracey, Kristen and Harnett. I swear I’ve been to Super Bowl parties that were not as loud. Last night, PK and I hit up 161st and River again for Game 2. Other than spending majority of the time telling Jacque Jones he sucked, having to share a small bench seat with Paul, harassing some poor girl in the box seats until she had to leave in the 8th, and seeing a good old fashion ECW-style brawl on the way out, and seeing the Yankees win, not much really happened. Let me tell you this much, Andy Pettitte is the man. There you have it. This weekend should be interesting, since now Brad and I are settled in a little more. Also, it’s Z-mans b-day. So we’ll see what the over under is before he spills Scotch all over his pants again.