To all you vuvuzela haters: BUG OFF

After reading John Leicester of the Associated Press’ article on America’s recent addiction to complaining about the din of trumpets that are supposedly ruining the World Cup for some viewers, I couldn’t help but to blog about it.
Would you want to see a ban on some of our traditions America?
I’m not even a soccer fan whatsoever, and to be brutally honest, I really could care less who wins the World Cup.
With that said, I still back WCup officials 110% (which is impossible, I know) in their decision to tell these haters to step back.
So typical of some American’s to be judgmental of other nations or country’s traditions.
Leicester called this African vuvuzela tradition “mind-meltingly annoying.”
Leicester, if you honestly feel that way, don’t watch the World Cup, and more importantly, don’t write about it.
His argument: the sound of vuvuzela’s drown out the oooh’s and aaah’s of the crowd.
You got to be kidding me man.
And there’s talk of a worldwide movement to ban these things too.
SMH America. It’s time to move on from bickering about the simple things. Turn your volume down, you probably hate those announcers accents anyway. Are you going to try and ban them too?

USC postseason play banned for two years

Lane Kiffin and Co. have their work cut out for them.

Following the NCAA's decision to ban USC football from postseason play for the next two years, USC fans and alums are awaiting Lane Kiffin's reaction to this whole ordeal.

As if that wasn't enough, the NCAA also slammed USC with four years probation, a loss of 30, that's right, 3-0, football scholarships, and fortfeits of an entire year's games for violations involving former USC Trojan and Heisman Trophy Winner, now New Orleans Saint Reggie Bush.

Did I mention that those forfeits include the entire 2004-2005 college football season when USC defeated Oklahoma in the BCS title game? The forfeits imposed also include 12 games during Bush's Hesiman-winning season which ended in a loss to Texas in the 2006 BCS title game.

There's even talk of Bush losing his Heisman Trophy, pending a Heisman Trophy Trust review.

USC was penalized for a "lack of institutional control" in the ruling made by the NCAA following its four year inverstigation on the university. USC's basketball program also suffered losses in the NCAA's decision.

The NCAA says Bush received gifts from two different sports marketers of whom were hoping to sign him. The NCAA claims that these two men paid for everything from hotel stays, to a rent-free home for Bush's family, and a limousine and new suit for his Heisman acceptance.

USC plans to appeal some of the penalties, claiming that they are excessive.

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1. How the heck am I ever going to be able to cheer on USC for the next two years if there is absoultely no chance of seeing them play a bowl game?

2. THIS IS NOT REGGIE BUSH'S FAULT. Blame the unscrupulous sports agents and sports marketers who influence these student-athletes to sign with them by providing them with gifts or bribes.
Question: If someone offered you free room and board for you and your family, would you say no?
Don't penalize Reg for the monster he was during his Heisman-winning season. He deserves that trophy.

3. Carrol got out just in time.

4. Good luck Kiffin. Talk about getting the shit-end of the stick.

14 Miles Out and Only One Thing On My Mind.

So were about 14 miles out of Albany and the weather's already showing signs of a wintry prolonged winter to come.

The good old MarCar has once again, flawlessly, made it all the way back to Albany. It's a miracle; an Albany miacle. This bad boy is charging through this weather like Kerry Rhodes charged through the Chargers offensive line on his strip sack on Sunday.

Oh what a wonderful day of sports it has been. The New York Jets have proved themselves worthy enough as a legitimate AFC Super Bowl contender, regardless of what Giants fans say. Mark Sanchez already has more playoff wins than Tony Romo, however I refuse to boast about the Sanchize just yet. He hasn't proved himself worthy at the helm thus far. Therefore it's too early to judge the rook, although deservingly so, he isn't given enough credit. His 3rd down stats are a great compliment to the #1 run game in the league, and it has been obvious throughout the playoffs. Any real football fan could appreciate his heart and grit.

As for other sports news, the New York Rangers finally got something going with a 6-2 win over the Montreal Canadiens, and their former teammate Scott Gomez. They once trailed 2-0 in the game, and then went on to score six straight against the visitor. Whoa-oh-ohhhh (let's go Rangers). Marian Gaborik scored his 29th goal of the season and snapped a five-game scoreless streak. Dubinky and Callahan finally found a groove, and Hanky proved to be dominant in the land of the Ranger Faithful.

Let's here it for New York, ladies and gentlemen. More next week, I promise. And more on that 1 thing on my mind.

Not A Fan of Rollercoasters

Calling all captains: tomorrow night is going to be one for the ages. Grab your finest tie and your cheapest bottle of champagne; which hopefully wont end up in your best friends TV this year. It's New Years Eve and it's time to reminisce on behalf of 2009. Wear your most comfortable panties and ignore your texts from afar as you spend the last ticking second of the year with people of whom you care about most. Toast to those who couldn't make it, and pour some out for the one's you've lost, but you know are there in spirit and mind alike.

Start this year off differently, such as you had promised yourself to do for the last ten years, but this time, actually do it. Make your new year's resolution to change something in your life. Change your style, change your ego, change your boyfriend, change your underwear. It has come the time where not only are you able to start over, but you are able to literally steer yourself free of trouble and sin, and rather crash into a new you. Realize that you should be thankful for every ticking second God has bestowed upon yourself, as well as the rest of your friends and family. Realize that the walls that surround you each day, can be broken and torn apart with a new attitude and a new outlook on life. Realize that being a good listener can benefit you in more ways than you would think.

I talked to an old friend today and she made me realize that receiving is a bi-product of giving. You will receive once you give, so don't be worried what you are granted in return. Be happy that you are fortunate enough to give and when your time comes, you shall receive as well. Thanks, friend, how I've missed you.

Take this time of the year to look back on 2009 and think about what you could have done differently. Think about all the times you were at an impasse with life, in general, and what you have done to overcome those battles. Build on this, and add to your character. These decisions determine who you are and what you are made of. Keep a level head and never look back, because there is no going back. Rather, stare straight into the eyes of the prize and never settle for anything less. Make proud of yourself, and work hard at making this happen.

Grab life by the horns, before it grabs you. This is your year; make the best of it.

Cheers.

A Fender-Bendered, Dirty Jelly Ringed, Highly Unusual Christmas.

December 23rd, 2009.
"Hey ma, can I take your car out tonight? Frankie's home from Michigan and he's having a few of the guys over."
"Sure, don't be home too late. We have a busy day tomorrow; and you still have to clean your room."

The holidays are great, usually. Christmas Eve's eve (Frankie's house) was great, until a white Chevy Tahoe slammed into my mom's car unexpectedly, causing a whirlwind of events to spiral out of proportion.

If only the Caucasian male who resembled Paul Wall and spoke like a Joisy Shore-ian actually stuck around for the punch and pie of another accident prone Phil and Mike adventure, none of this would have happened. But hey, shit happens, unfortunately.

December 24th, 2009. Early morning, pre wake-up.
"Phil, did you hit something with my car last night?"
"No mom, I have no idea what you are talking about." Back to sleep.

Shit, why did I lie? Well I guess I didn't lie, hence the fact that I myself never actually hit anything with that oh-so-suave 2001 Hyundai Elantra; GT none-the-less. 176,863 miles strong.

December 24th, 2009. Post wake-up, pre jelly ring throw.
"Okay mom, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before but someone hit your car last night. It was a hit and run and I didn't want to ruin your Christmas Eve."
"It's okay. Just tell the truth next time; we brought you up to always be honest, even at the worst times."

My father was livid, as usual, at one of the most unusual things. Can't blame him, I mean the damage done to the car was so horrible that it looked like a bird pooped in the wrong place.

Estimated cost of damages: approximately $158.06; labor included. Some damage huh?

December 24th, 2009. Approximately 8:24pm.
Still wondering why I'm eating dinner on my couch, instead of at the table with the rest of my family.

9:42pm.
Little cousin Gianna blames me for taking her Cinderella doll. In turn she runs upstairs, crying, and I get a dirty look from everyone at the highly drunk annual Forte Christmas dinner table. Shake my head and walk back downstairs.

December 25th, 2009.
"Thanks for the new TV mom and dad."

About 47 minutes later, the Jelly Rings and Marshmallow Twists start flying.
"It's been two (expletive) days and this guy still hasn't been locked up. I'm the bad guy now...blah blah blah. I want your mothers car fixed and I want it fixed now. I'm always the one getting jerked around. I'm done waiting (even on Christmas, quite possibly the most popular holiday to have off from work) for this shit to get settled. Go file a police report."

"Shit happens," said Officer D-e-r(something). "Don't file a police report with missing information, especially if you have someone working on the case for you. Tell your father to call me if he has any questions."

Note to self: doing what your father tells you to still irks him.

This year, Christmas taught me a lot. It taught me how to handle a hit and run accident incorrectly, how important Cinderella is to a 3 year old, and how catering a party at your own house has a ton of negatives. But it also taught me that Christmas will always be there for family and friends to gather, fight, love, and cherish one another, regardless if Paul Wall tries to spoil it; cheap-o.

December 26th, 2009. 4:36pm.
Still craving those Jelly Rings.

Happy Holidays everyone.

Long Island Guy...

I was born, raised and bred on Long Island; that’s right ON, not IN Long Island. I can travel from the south shore to the north shore in twenty minutes, eastern Long Island to western Long Island in an hour and god damnit I love how close I live to the city. Some people take this island for granted, where you can raise a family, eat at various 5-star restaurants, find a job, and fall in love with your hometown. You can live in the slums where you find endless chains of broken down grocery stores and gas stations, check cashing places and liquor stores, or you can live where the rich and famous spawn along golf courses, beaches, and parks. It’s what’s in between where we find a problem. A problem where people believe Long Island isn’t good enough for them and their “dreams.” Some people move away and blame Long Island for their troubles, but Long Island doesn’t care. Long Island is, was, and (hopefully) will always be there for those who enjoy its company, but NOT for those who trash it day in and day out: “Bro its LI duh…go to move to sunny Florida where shit is great all the time.” Yeah, go ahead and move to Florida and make sure to read the fine print on the “Welcome to Florida” sign that blankly states “…where America goes to die.” Blame Long Island for not finding an education, for working at a poor sap’s restaurant getting paid to show some cleavage (thank you), for failing out of art school, for killing your dog, for crashing you car, or for shattering your “dreams.” Dreams are made, and broken, because of you, not because of an island. Just remember one thing: Long Island does not care. Long Island does not want those ON it who continue to bash its beauty and aroma. Life begins with LI, but what you do with your life rests in your hands, only.

Self Loathing in Albany, NY

It’s unreal to think of the language being used today compared to that of nearly half a century ago. Instead of using the proper, modern English set forth by our forefathers and ancestors which makes this language so exquisite and unique , everyone today relies on the use of acronyms to describe what they’re doing. This decline in language, of course, cannot bury the blame on one individual writer or blogger who created the phrase LOL, OMG, or WTF, rather, the blame can be put on those who continue to use these phrases day in and day out (hence my self loathing). The people of this modern world that reeks of technology today are constantly obsessed with the demand for social networking, and in turn everybody today feels pressured to continually “update their status,” or express their feelings with an LMAO this, or LOL that. Twitter this, comment that, post here. I wonder who these “pioneers” of language were and how much they’ve made Orwell turn in his grave so far.

You see Orwell, whom in my opinion, who was one of the greatest authors of the early to mid 20^th century, set forth a set of rules for the writer and the student alike. These rules, rather basic and straightforward attack the foundations of ugly, inaccurate language and suggest that if these rules are indeed followed, the mind and language alike can be used as an instrument for expressiveness. No longer will we find the need to have LOL pop into our head as our first option when reacting to something that is comical. Thus, in following these rules listed below, we CAN change our language and restore the foundation of proper English, not unapt jargon.

Here are Orwell’s six rules for when instinctual writing fails (found in his essay Politics and the English Language):

1. Never use a metaphor, simile of other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.

2. Never use a long word where a short one will do. NOT an abbreviation.

3. If it is possible to cut a word out, cut it out.

4. Never use the passive where you can use the active

5. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word or a jargon word if you can think of an English equivalent.

6. Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

Indeed these rules sound elementary; however they demand a change in attitude for the writer. They challenge the writer to use more conventional English terms, rather than relying on an acronym to suggest their feelings. Of course, one could follow all of these rules, and still write poor English, but one would not be considered a follower of this ridiculous language that is sought out to be the language of the future.

OMFG WTF are you talking about?

Think about these rules and soak them in, because eventually when you find yourself (for example) being asked to hand in a writing sample to a firm who wants to hire you, these will help. Why do you think Barack Obama was elected president of the United States, because he was qualified? No, he was elected because he comes off as a smart, simple man with good communication skills and his values in place. If you haven’t noticed by now, the present political chaos is most definitely connected with the decay of language and the inability to communicate with one another coherently. We can start to improve by focusing on the verbal end of the problem, rather than searching for the newest web cam to web chat with the enemy this week. America needs to get its shit straight before we forget how to knock on doors or introduce ourselves to a stranger; more on that later.

For now, tty-er, see you tomorrow.

Dear Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, or Aphrodite,

If you’re reading this, that means I’ve actually had the courage to post this here, so go me right? You see for the past 3 months, the writings been really hard for me. Yes, the writing, literally. Before I moved to where I am now, I haven’t gone more than a week without seeing you and I guess that’s what has kept me sane and able, and willing to write. I’ve been at a loss for words since August 27th, the day I left you and that town for good. I still remember the first time I laid eyes on you, and from that time on there hasn’t been another set of eyes I’d rather look into. You see there’s this feeling I get every time you walk into a room, kind of like the feeling of walking into your living room on Christmas morning; weak knees and struggling for words. The very presence of you reminds me of home and family and everything that’s good in life. And goddamn would you make a good wife and mother sometime. I have been thinking a lot about myself lately and at the end of it all, it’s only you who ends up there with me. I know this sounds crazy but what about life isn’t crazy? I I’m not saying I’m perfect nor better than any boyfriend you’ve ever had, but I am saying that no one would treat you the way I would and no one would love you as far and long as I would, through thick and thin, rain and snow, hell and high water. This wasn’t an accident. I’m doing this because I’ve blinked one too many times, and I have missed out on too many moments to get this right. I want to be standing across from you, looking into your eyes and holding your hand when you’re the only one in the room wearing a white dress. You make the blurry things clear for me and the wine taste better. Hank Moody taught me well in saying that “it’s all about her.” It is all about you and I don’t want to see the day come that you’re gone for good. I hope you understand this and I hope you follow your heart and stay true to you, but damn you would make my grandma proud and that has got to count for something.

For now,
You know who