11 posts tagged “dabysan”

Boy, for a couple of teetotaling vegetarians, CarrieNation and Dabysan throw one hell of a party.  I mean, I knew it was going to be a good time, but yesterday went above and beyond my highest expectations.  I'm so unbelievably happy for the both of them, and even though it's been said plenty, I'd like to offer them my public congratulations one last time.  I am deeply honored that two people I care about so much asked me to be a part of their special day.  I'm just thankful that I only flubbed my toast in small ways that nobody seemed to notice.  I was so sure I was going to screw it up.

I have other stuff I should be doing right now.  But I made the mistake of turning on my computer when I got home.  Then I re-read Dabysan's excellent post about getting married this weekend.  Then I started thinking about my toast, which I thought I had completed last night.  Then I started going back through some - okay, most - of our posts about Karaoke to the Death.  Then I started listening to the audio from past years.  Then I started thinking about how great all my friends are, and how much I'm looking forward to this fantastic celebration on Saturday - despite the fact that I have to give a toast, which I definitely don't want to do.

I have other stuff I should be doing right now, but you're going to have a hard time convincing me I wasted my evening.

In my last post, I mentioned I'm not much of a gambler.  I guess I should amend that statement.  I'd say I don't enjoy the table games (or the slots) but even that's a little disingenuous.  I really like blackjack and roulette is okay, and I'm sure I'd like craps, too, if I ever bothered to learn what's going on.  The thing is, I just don't have the fortitude it takes for that enjoyment to pay off.  In order to win big, one has to be willing to lose big.  I just don't have that instinct.  Fortunately for me, though, this past weekend I learned the joy of parlay betting.  Now, I'm not naive enough to believe that these odds aren't stacked against me too.  I know the house always wins.  It's just that betting on football is within my comfort zone.

I was an overall winner (monetarily speaking) for the first time ever at the end of this trip.  I placed before the early games a $50 bet on a three-game parlay (Giants, Saints, Colts) that paid off at six-to-one.  As those games drew to a close and Dabysan realized he was out of the money on all his early bets he decided to play a five-game parlay on the late games.  We both played the same teams: Chargers, Broncos, Saints, Bears, and Colts.  I bet $20.  It paid off at forty-to-one.  Those two bets, combined with the $25 I put on the Lions to win, brought my total winnings to $750.  Not too shabby.

Except that it could - should - have been a whole lot more.  In my post-winning euphoria, I didn't realize until yesterday that one of my early bets was only off by a single game.  You can see the ticket above.  The seven-game parlay pays off at seventy-to-one, and I lost out on a $2,500 total payday because the goddamn Texans couldn't get their shit together.  They fucking owe me.  Andre Johnson and Owen Daniels are both Toledo Maroons.  If they don't both score (at least) double-digit fantasy points for the rest of the season, there will be hell to pay.

We're now a week removed from the Ninth Annual Karaoke to the Death IX, and it's taken a little longer this year than years past for the details of the competition to sink in.  We have made our peace with the fact that we will never again hoist the greatest trophy in all of sports high above our head.  We are pleasantly surprised to have had the opportunity to leave the sport of bad karaoke - a sport we love so dearly - on our own terms.  And so without further ado, it is time at last for the annual KttD post-mortem.

This is how you don't do it.  It gives me great pleasure that it took Dabysan five years to win the glorious competition he supposedly co-founded.  It gives me even greater pleasure to know he will never ever win again.  There has never been a KttD competitor with a more tenuous grasp on what makes a great KttD song than Dabysan.  Some say he is less introspective than your average bear; others say he's just an idiot.  You can count me in the latter camp.  Daby wrote at the eleventh hour before KttD about a crisis of song choice.  That may be, but the question remains why he ever thought Montell Jordan's "This Is How We Do It" was a contender in the first place.

During the pre-event dinner at the Hard Times Cafe, Daby supposedly found new (false) hope with Joni Mitchell's "Big Yellow Taxi."  The world may never know why he eventually opted out of "Bridge Over Troubled Water" (a song - I might add - that Vrabel has been championing for three years now), but KttD insiders believe it has something to do with Daby being too stupid for words.  That seems about right.

We've been taking a fair amount of heat around here for our substandard output in these, the final weeks before the Ninth Annual Karaoke to the Death IX.  And it's true: we've been a bit distracted this year.  There's no question about that.  One could say we have not been pulling our weight.

On the other hand, one could say it's about goddamn time our lazy, good-for-nothing co-founder got off his ass and did some promotion.  He's got some fucking nerve calling us out like this.  We've handled the guest list for nine consecutive years now, and though it's true we dropped the ball on the Evite this year, we did take the initiative in starting the KttD Facebook page.  We're also more than happy to let the record show which of us has done more promotion since KttD has gone online.  (To say nothing of who has single-handedly managed the official KttD website and official KttGear shop to date.)  And we'll just add that only one co-founder has taken a Carribean vacation the week before the big show, leaving crucial last minute logistics to the other, more dedicated, co-founder.

So, Dabysan, threaten us with KttExcommunication all you like.  Just remember, though, that we have never missed a committee meeting.  We daresay you cannot make the same claim.  Shit, you've barely done anything - including winning: you're a mere one-time champion who barely eked out your only win after five sad attempts.  And even that was against a known tanker.  Your "co-founder" status - no, your entire karaoke career - should come with an asterisk.

The only outcome of a bike shopping excursion with Dabysan that's better than coming home with a new bicycle is not coming home with a new bicycle.  Daby is the Spokes, Etc. employee's best friend.  I swear, you'd think he's getting a commission.  Fortunately (at least for my credit card), I get almost as much enjoyment out of spitefully thwarting Daby's attempted enabling behavior as I would out of a new bike.  At least, for now.

That said, I took the sweet baby pictured above out for a spin this afternoon, and I very nearly came home with a new bike anyway.  That's one sweet ride; I'm not sure how much longer I can hold out.  I need to make sure not to tag along when they go to pick up CarrieNation's new fixie, because I might finally cave.  And I'm pretty confident I can string Daby along to at least three more bike shops before he finally loses interest.  Test riding bikes while simultaneously frustrating Daby is a win/win situation for me.  Why would I spoil it by actually, you know, buying one?

[Editors' Note: hotrod.vox.com has been in existence since June, 2006.  How is it possible this is the first time we've ever used the 'spite' tag?]

Those of us who were still paying attention to the Pittsburgh Steelers and the San Diego Chargers at about seven-thirty last night were treated to an exhilarating end to an otherwise lackluster game.

To the untrained eye, it appears that the best safety in the NFL - Troy Polamalu - disrupted the second of a pair of desperate laterals to cause a fumble and score a touchdown to seal the victory for Pittsburgh.  It appears that way to the untrained eye because that's exactly what happened.  It's not surprising that the play was subjected to review from the replay booth.  It's a little surprising that there was a determination by the official that there was a penalty (forward lateral) on the Chargers which the Steelers declined.  It's most surprising that the call on the field was overturned and the touchdown was negated.  It's surprising because the call was dead wrong.

The sports-blogging corner of the internets is buzzing today with stories of how this affects those who gamble on professional football games, and I see their point.  But I suspect forces far more sinister and nefarious than the gaming industry and its ties to organized crime.  You see, the outcome of the Steelers/Chargers game affected more than just my NFL rooting interests.  My Steelers had the victory no matter the outcome of this disputed call.  But I've got the Steeler defense going for my fantasy football team as well, and this travesty cost me eight points (two points for the recovered fumble and six points for the touchdown).  And it's no secret that I incurred the wrath of my sleazeball fantasy football commissioner last week with my exposé of his underhanded behavior.  That Dabysan would attempt to orchestrate a conspiracy of this magnitude in order to thwart my rise in the Just Us League standings, I have no doubt.  With a win this week, I am back in playoff contention.  I am currently up by eleven points with Braylon Edwards going tonight for my opponent.  I'd feel a lot more comfortable if I were up by nineteen.  Daby is not to be trusted; if I lose tonight, rest assured there will be hell to pay.

And because he's awesome, here's a bonus awesome video of the most awesome safety in the NFL.  This is another play from yesterday's game that was reviewed but (miraculously, in hindsight) not overturned.  I'm a bit surprised the zebras actually got this one right with all the money Dabysan was sending their way under the table.

I think Dabysan is trying to kill me.

Late last week, Daby IM'ed me and asked if I wanted his couch.  He and Ms. Nation had jointly purchased a new sofa, and he was looking for a good home for the old one.  And - more significantly - looking for a sucker to rent a truck and help him move it to make room for the new model.  Now, I already have a sofa.  But Daby promised his was "the most comfortable in all of Christendom" and my spare bedroom is sorely lacking in upholstered furniture, so I figured I had room for two - at least for a while.  The thought of doubling my potential for lazy lounging sealed the deal.  I accepted.

So I all but recoiled in horror this evening when I arrived at Daby's apartment to move my new couch into my apartment.  And as I recoiled in horror, I recalled that there had been very few occasions in the past however many years in which I have been seated on Daby's couch, and that those few occasions on which I had been seated upon it had been so traumatic that I must have completely blocked them from my memory.  Most comfortable in all of Christendom, my ass.  This vile and unholy pile of wood and furniture stuffing was - is - upholstered with sandpaper and live scorpions.  Mere contact of bare skin on fabric would send chills down my spine and make me itchy.  An ordinary evening would result in a painful and unsightly rash.  Who knows what would happen after prolonged exposure?  Leprosy, certainly.  And death doesn't seem out of the question.  I didn't want to touch the thing to move it out of his apartment, let alone into mine.  I nearly left without a word, furious at Daby's chicanery.

The sofa currently sits two stories below me in the basement of my building.  I've taken three showers since moving it and can still feel that abrasive fabric on my skin.  I'm about to run out for some steel wool.  That and some elbow grease may help me finally feel less.... unclean.  If I am able to make it 'til tomorrow without nightmares, I may be able to focus on just why Daby might want me dead.  Between the Rock Band incident and this, I must be cautious.  You better believe when I walk out my front door in the morning, I'm going to look up to make sure there's not an anvil suspended above my head.

I don't know if you have noticed, but I am not always good at making the best of a given situation.  When life gives me lemons....  Well, I like lemons, actually.  I like things that are sour.  I also like salty things.  And things that are bitter.  I'm not so big on sweets, though.  Go figure.  Except for pie, obviously.  But I digress....

I suffered a very minor tragedy recently when my Guitar Hero save file became corrupted for reasons unbeknownst to me.  The 'Thropes had to work their way up from obscurity once again if I was to buy all those fancy guitars and pixelated spandex costumes.  I needed to slog my way through the easy level just to earn that extra cash, but I was most chagrined at having to replay the three songs I had completed on the hard setting.  Those took some effort.  I daresay I had just cause to view the glass as half-empty.

But I realized someting as I plowed my way through the beginner songs once more.  I am no longer a beginner.  I consistently hit ninety-eight or ninety-nine percent of the notes, and I've got those golden stars on seven or eight songs.  And what's more - now that I learn there is a visual representation of that elusive perfect score, I am more inclined to re-visit the easier levels at a later date.  I've found, also, they have helped me get the hang of those more advanced hammer-on and pull-off techniques I will need once I get past medium for the second time.

And the absolute best discovery in all of this is that - unlike some people - I don't experience a regression when I spend a day or two on an easier level.  I still know where that blue button is.  As long as I still have that competitive advantage when the next battle of the bands occurs (tomorrow), that's all I care about.  How about that?  Something kinda bad happened, and I am still able to find the positive spin.  Who knew?