Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Moving to Wordpress

Hi everyone! I moved over to joesavastano.wordpress.com

Meet me over there! Thanks!

Sunday, January 30, 2011

What's going on in the world?

Alright, I'm tired of telling you guys what I'VE been up to. This is mainly because I'm not really up to much. I'm just out of college, unemployed, and I don't think you care much about the fact that I walked my dog today and nervously looked around as she peed on my neighbor's lawn.

There are a ton of news stories that I want to discuss, a lot happening in the world. So let me break everything down for you the way I see it:

This Sunday, the Pittsburgh Steelers and Green Bay Packers will square off in Super Bowl XLV (or 45, for those of you who aren't fluent in Roman Numerals). One important thing to note here is that Ben Roethlisberger, the Steelers' starting Quarterback, may or may not have (but definitely did) get away with the rape of a college student in a Georgia night club earlier in the year. He also may or may not have (but definitely did) get away with rape in Tahoe a few years ago. Besides that, I'm sure he's a real stand-up guy. You know, the kind of guy you'd want your daughter to date. Needless to say, I'll be rooting for Green Bay.

Most major cities in the Northeast have already doubled their average annual snowfall, but the even more unusual weather pattern I'm noticing is the extended bitter cold, with high temperatures rarely getting out of the 20s and the lows (with the wind chill) often below zero. This has inspired me to invent what is quickly becoming one of my favorite games: "Where would you be right now if you were homeless?"

This week Congresswoman Michelle Bachman of Minnesota said that the founding fathers worked tirelessly to put an end to slavery. Shamefully, our founding fathers actually went to great lengths to protect slavery. The second most used word in the original constitution was, in fact, slavery. But I wouldn't expect Michelle Bachman to know that, or anything about anything. She probably thinks that Osama bin Laden worked tirelessly to prevent 9/11 from happening.

After hearing all the rave about Nicki Minaj's big butt for the past however-long-her-butt-has- been-famous, I finally saw it this week on Saturday Night Live. I can now confirm that yes, her butt is big.

Odd News
I read on Yahoo! News that a woman survived a suicide attempt after she jumped out of a 23rd story window and landed on a cab. This leads me to beg the question how much does a two ton hunk of metal cushion the blow of a 250 foot free-fall?

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

I'm getting too old for...everything...

I'm back in Rhode Island! DC was awesome, but it's great to be home. Since being home, I've taken part in a few things that make me feel like I'm just a little bit over the hill:

-Shoveling snow. Since being home we've accumulated about 30-40 inches of snow. That might not seem like a lot to those of you living in Siberia or Antarctica, but for us North American folks - especially the ones with long driveways - each inch of snow translates into about an hour or two of back pain. I'm not even a good sport about it either, just a grumpy old man. Every time I see my happy dog blissfully frolicking in the snow I just want to hand her a shovel and ruin her fun.

-Sledding. I decided to try to enjoy myself in the snow because I was sick of resenting a weather pattern experienced by hundreds of millions of other people who don't seem to have any problem with it. So last week I went sledding with Josh and Jill (who, hilariously, "went up the hill" every time they wanted to sled back down). About 5 minutes into the ride to the sledding hill I asked if we might be getting too old for this. Jill candidly and rapidly responded with "definitely" as if she was expecting the question the whole time. Josh held out hope. Jill was right.

We got to the hill and for a second I thought we would be all alone. Then a car immediately pulled up behind us with a 7-year-old named Jeremy riding shotgun. I can only guess he was riding shotgun because he was the eldest of the two boys in the car, the other one being a tough 6-year-old named James. Jeremy and James were equipped with the latest sledding gear, including sleds that surely ran them a couple hundred bucks each and, get this, helmets. Josh, Jill and I were standing there with a pink circular plastic spool, a boogie board, and a yoga mat.

To say I felt inferior when it came to equipment would be an understatement, but performance on the hill is where the difference between us really stood out. Though James and Jeremy were each at least 15 years my junior, they were doing tricks off of the hill that I've never dreamed of doing. Jumps, spins, flips, the whole 9.

On our first run, Josh and I decided to be cool and "race" down the hill, but instead collided half way leaving me with my first bruise. Normally I would have packed it in then and there, but Jeremy and James calling me a girl in front of my friends as well as their mom motivated me to try again.

This time I tried to go over a jump and really impress everyone. I dragged my feet on the way toward the jump and screamed like Sarah Michelle Gellar in "I Know What You Did Last Summer," making for a run as unimpressive, if not more so, than the first.

After a couple more lackluster runs, long treks up the hill and heckling sessions from Evil Knievel's grandkids, I decided that I am officially retiring from sledding.

-Video Games. I really haven't been into video games since the PlayStation 2 was popular in the early 2000s, but recently Josh got on Nintendo Wii a revamped version of my favorite Super Nintendo game from my childhood - Super Mario World.

Yesterday at about 2pm I went to Josh's to play Mario, you know, for old time's sake, for an hour at most. Luckily my mom called to ask if I was going to be home for dinner. I had been at Josh's trying to beat Bowser for FOUR HOURS. How did I not realize that it had gotten dark out in the time that I had been playing? I had neglected my poor dog, who was at this point certainly standing at home with her legs crossed and starving.

That game, like all video games, is way too addicting. And honestly, I'm a little too old to be playing. So I'm retiring from video games too. At least that's what I'm going to say publicly.

That's all for now, everyone! Thanks for reading! Check back soon!

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Wow! That's a long time in between posts!

Hey guys! I know, it's been a month or so since any post of substance and for that I do apoligize. I would tell you that I was too busy, but once you read my post about how long I tried to learn the Rick Astley dance from his 1985 hit "Never Gonna Give You Up" (just a few simple movements, but took me a few hours), you probably wouldn't believe me. Over the past few weeks I remember the following:

One night (probably about a month ago now), I decided to visit some friends in Alexandria. First I went to the liquor store down the street to pick up some delicious beverages. The liquor store is a really great, community oriented place: homeless people begging me outside, homeless people begging me inside, and bullet proof glass to protect the cashier from gun violence. That's Northeast DC for ya.

After I dropped $17 on a 12-pack (gotta pay for that bullet-proof glass somehow!), I got hustled out of $5 by the homeless guy walking around outside with a megaphone. I know, I shouldn't have given in. But he was following me and screaming into it (and you could hear this megaphone like 5 blocks away) that I had pooped my pants. And I hadn't pooped my pants. I had to shut him up somehow. I couldn't have all the prostitutes and heroin junkies laughing at me.

From there I walked to Union Station, where I'd catch the metro to Alexandria. I put my beer down (foreshadowing) to fish out my metro card, and headed through the turnstyle. I really like how the DC Metro has electronic boards that tell you when the next train was coming. I did not like how this one said 17 minutes until the next train. How am I supposed to kill such an awkward, painfully long amount of time? No service underground. Can't call anyone. Can't text anyone. What am I supposed to do? Read? Ha!

After pacing back and forth for sixteen minutes playing "step on a crack and you break your mother's back" with myself, singing the lyrics out loud and probably almost getting the cops called on me because the other waiting patrons were so weirded out, I looked up happy to see that there was only one minute left to wait! I could see the lights of the train coming. MAN was this gonna be great. I got all ready to get on the train, picked up my...WHERE THE F%&! IS MY BEER!? Panic time. The train's right there, and I have to RUN back to the turnstyles to get my beer (after all, it ran me a total of $22 if you count my bribe to the homeless guy with the megaphone).

Somehow the beer was still there when I went back. But the train was already pulling away. I shrieked for the driver to stop the train as if my baby was on board (if the "step on a crack game" didn't draw police attention, this surely would). Unfortunately, the metro waits for no man, which by the way is weird because its sole purpose is to transport man from point A to point B. I missed the train.

The next train wasn't even listed on the board for the next 10 minutes. When it finally was listed, TWENTY TWO MINUTES! Come on. Angrily, I switched up my game from "step on a crack and you break your mother's back" to "step on a line and you break your mothers spine." For those of you who are wondering: same game, more graphic name. Don't worry, Mom, I never stepped on a crack or a line! Love you!

After an additional train transfer/wait and a long ride to boot, I arrived in Virginia. It was here that I met kids much more seasoned in the art of beer drinking than I. They taught me how to "shotgun" a beer which is a fun replacement word for the horrifying term "cut your tongue on a can and spill beer all over yourself" which is what I did. I will not be participating in this activity again. It was after a few beers that I thought to stand in front of the computer and learn how to move just like Rick Astley, which I thought was a success but judging by the chuckles of my friends, it was not.

Wow! That story was really long and, looking back, not so entertaining. I'll keep things condensed from here on out.

Skipping ahead several weeks, one day in late October I played football with some friends on the National Mall. I like to think of myself as a pretty good player, but somehow I had to cover this Canadian machine who was just so fast and tireless. After a good three or four plays, I was finally hands on knees panting. It wasn't long before he was burning me for touchdown after touchdown. One of my teammates was like "JOE WHERE'S YOUR SPEED?!" It's in fucking High School, Kelsey, leave me alone!

Throughout all of late October and early November there was this electile dysfunction, if you will, buzzing around Washington. Somewhere in there we had the Rally to Restore Sanity, which had a bunch of hooligans who were never sane at any point in their lives running around the city drunk and shirtless. And pantsless. I remember one guy who was clearly on acid actively and aggressively praying to a beer God, or whiskey God, or some sory of alcohol diety. Real creepy stuff. Not very sane.

I feel like I really owed everyone this post. I kind of rushed through it because I've been real busy lately. I hope it was okay. There will be another one. No promises as to when.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Could you be the 1,000th viewer?!

Wow! Statistics show that by 6pm tonight (at the latest), this blog will have broken 1,000 total views! YOU could be the 1,000th viewer! If you are, you're going to get a very special prize...a GATORADE SHOWER! If you can't wait to have a bucket of this sticky liquid poured all over you while you wear a suit* definitely check the hits counter on the right hand side of the screen to see if you are indeed the winner!
*Winner must be wearing a suit to qualify for gatorade shower.
Real post coming very, very soon!
Peace and love (and luck!),

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

And we're walkin'...and we're walkin'...

Wow! I did a lot of walking this week. I'll add everything up at the end.

Friday night (Saturday morning) at 2am, my best friends from home Ben and Josh arrived from Rhode Island. Immediately, I worried about where to find them a parking spot for the weekend. I thought you might be able to park on my street as a non-resident on the weekends, but I wasn't sure. So I jumped in the car with them and we drove down the road. Unfortunately this was a road you'd much rather be going "up" than "down," as in the 2nd road we turned onto we were going the wrong direction on a one-way.

(lights & sirens)

After the cop called us "dumbasses" and gave us a stern warning, we turned around and parked outside of a Greyhound station. Looked pretty legit.

(lights & sirens)

After the same cop ran Josh's license for both the previous violation and this one, he told us we couldn't park there. He said to go two blocks up and take a right, then park on that street if we "must park in this part of town." He did warn us, however, that "if you even have a penny showing on the floor of your car, they're gonna smash the windows and break in looking for shit."

While I appreciated this cop "keeping it real" with us, throwing around the words "ass" and "shit" as if constipation was looming in the back of his mind, he didn't realize that the penny break-in spot he was referring to was EXACTLY WHERE I LIVE.

Yes, folks, if you haven't figured it out, I live in a brand new, beautiful, multi-million dollar building. In the middle of the ghetto. As Chris Rock said, "Sure it feels safe inside, but what about all those people outside waiting with guns? They know you ain't got one."

Luckily we made it back safe, and (SPOILER ALERT!), Ben's car made it through the weekend unticketed and without being broken into. Woo!

We got back to the room, Ben and Josh had a "settling down beer" (3am at this point), I turned on the TV and luckily one of the finest love stories of our time (Jackass Number 2) happened to be playing. We watched that for about a half hour and then went to bed.

We woke up the next morning at about 10:30am, which I thought was impressive considering we went to bed at about 3:30. I went to the kitchen to fix myself some breakfast, jokingly yelling behind me "You guys ready to start drinking?! hahah."

(sound of a beer cracking behind me)

"Does that answer your question?" asked Josh. Wow. They came to party.

After breakfast, we were ready to take the metro to the monuments and memorials, about 3.5 miles away. Unfortunately, due to construction and the shooting of Transformers 3, the metro terminated at about half way where we needed to go. Damn you, Shia Labeouf.

This is where the serious walking starts, but not where it ends. Definitely not where it ends.
After the 1.75 mile trek to the National Mall, and the additional 1.75 miles of walking on the mall, we were ready to eat. So we hoofed it an additional 2.5 miles (I got lost, okay?!) and settled on a place where I really thought my friends could get a true taste of DC (Quizno's).

Later that night, we met up with some other friends from The Washington Center, had a few drinks and headed out for a great night. Since we didn't want to change trains three times (due to closures) to go somewhere 2 miles from our apartment, we sucked it up and walked. But we got lost, so it was more like 3 miles. All I did was complain the whole time, I felt really bad for everyone that had to listen to me. I must have said "I'M LOSING MY BUZZ!" about 20 times. Also, I shouldn't have really been complaining. I was wearing sneakers. The girls were wearing heels. Sucks to be them. Anyway, tack 3 miles onto the total.

Finally, we arrived at our destination, a half dive bar half dance club type of place called Hawk & Dove. After Josh bought the guys a $57 round of drinks (welcome to DC, Joshy), we were ready to party.

Throughout the night one of my guy friends ("Gerald" from the last post), kept borrowing my phone. I didn't know why he was borrowing it, because he never seemed to be making any calls. Later I found out he was hitting on all these different chicks and storing their numbers in my phone. The funny part is he didn't bother to learn their actual last names, but rather made their most defining characteristics their last names so they're in my phone as "Samantha Blackdress" "Ashley Slut" and "Name" (I guess he didn't even bother to get the first name on that one...she's gotta feel special). It was a great night overall, but there was still that 3-mile trek back. Gotta love walking.

The next "morning" (around 1pm) when I woke up, my room looked like the wake-up scene from the hangover. I had to wake Josh and Ben up because Josh wanted to go to the bar to watch the Packers game, and I had to see if he still wanted to.

Joe: "Josh, you awake man? You still wanna go to the bar for the game?"
Josh (extremely hungover): "I don't care."
Joe: "Okay, you wanna eat some breakfast?"
Josh (half dead): "I don't care."
Joe (scanning the disgusting room): "What the hell did you guys do in here after I went to bed last night?"
Josh (still out of it): "I don't care"

So informative. So helpful.

Eventually we did head out to watch the game. On the way back from the game, we decided to check out Georgetown. We took a train but, again, halfway there it terminated. DAMN YOU SHIA LABEOUF! They got us all excited with this "free shuttle service" to Georgetown from where the train terminated, but the shuttle bus itself was like a half-mile walk from the train. Then there was brutal traffic once we got on the bus. SO CLOSE to a panic attack. After a half hour bus ride, we got out and walked a mile into Georgetown. Took the circulator (great bus) back, thank God, because my dogs were barkin' (my feet hurt).

I had work the next day, so that night we just stayed in and kept the drinking to a minimum (Josh and Ben polished off an 18-pack). That was the last I ever saw of Ben and Josh. They didn't die or anything, they were just sleeping when I left for work and gone when I got back.

Speaking of work, I just started to walk there! Not taking the metro saves money (pricey), avoids having to have a weird dude's armpit in my face as I strattle an old lady who enjoys it just a little too much (overcrowded), and is more efficient (see "Shia Labeouf, above). Although this is the first day I've done it, that'll add another 3.4 miles of walking (round trip) per day!

I've also been on the treadmill twice this week, Monday to watch Monday Night Football and Tuesday - obviously for One Tree Hill. I've actually become pretty speedy on that thing and tacked on another 8 miles over the two nights.

For those of you keeping score at home that's 22.7 miles since Friday.

Now I'm no mathematician, but that's like the distance from DC to Miami.

I hope everyone's having a great week. I will check back in as soon as possible!

p.s. I saw a triple feature on Monday (paid for one, snuck into the next two). Catfish and The Social Network were really good. Easy A, not so much. See ya!

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Week in Review

Wow! It's been a good week. Again, didn't write anything down so I'm just kind of spit-balling random memories here:

Thursday, I went to Mad Hatter which is a bar that offers $1 draughts on Thursday nights! What suckers, right?! Wrong. I'm the sucker. It was more like $1 sips of beer. The glasses were like 3 ounces each, max. What's worse - you couldn't sit down anywhere if you were drinking a $1 beer! You literally had to stand the ENTIRE time if you didn't order a full-price ($5) beer! Not only does that suck because I don't feel like being upright while I'm "relaxing" or "blowing off some steam," but you can pick out all the cheapskates in the room by looking around at who's standing! So as I'm standing there with my virtual "I'M CHEAP!" sign hanging off of me, my friend (let's call him Arnold), asks me to borrow money because he doesn't have enough cash on him.

"Well," I say, "the beers are $1, so I'm guessing you don't have any cash on you, but sure, [Arnold], here's a five, grab me one too."

So I'm thinking at least I've got a shot glass worth of beer and a couple bucks in change coming back to me, right? Wrong again! Arnold sees one of his friends at the bar (let's call him Gerald), AND the girl Gerald's currently trying to bang (let's call her Helga) at the bar, and decides to buy them BOTH beers on me! COME ON! Arnold said he'd pay me back, but I've yet to see the money. I know, I'm cheap right? Well, I also work for free. Don't judge me.

Friday, I went to Georgetown with LC, LJ, LV (a lot of people's names start with L here), Louis (there's another one), Brandon, and Kate. I don't remember much of this night, but I remember saying "I neeeed this" a lot and was told that I kept welcoming everyone to Rosslyn, Virginia (even after we had left said town).

Saturday, I went to Safeway which is the most ironically named grocery store of all time because it's neither safe nor on the way. To anywhere. Not sure why the shuttle from my building brings us past five beautiful, safe grocery stores that are on the way and instead drops us off in the hood on the other side of town at this place, but that's what they do. After speed shopping for 9 minutes and waiting in a 31-minute line, I barely made the next shuttle back (comes "every" 40 minutes though sometimes the driver will take an unannounced dump break and throw the schedule off by an hour on either end).

Also on Saturday I did a lot of laundry. Four loads, to be exact (okay, it's not the roomiest washer/dryer combo). Then I had an epiphany. Maybe it was just the smell of the laundry detergent, or maybe I was getting high from the bleach I had accidentally just spilled all over my hands, but I got to thinking: you know how most driers have a "wrinkle guard" that you can turn either on or off, to prevent wrinkles or not? Well why the HELL do they even give you the option? Who's going to be like "Wrinkle guard? No fuck that. I want my clothes to be as wrinkly as possible!" Right? But I digress.

Sunday was the proudest I've ever been of myself as far as being in shape goes. After eating a king-sized Kit-Kat bar, two Oreo Klondikes and an Italian Ice (not the proud part), I hit the treadmill for my usual Sunday afternoon football watching routine (see my last post and that will make more sense). But somewhere on my leisurely stroll, I decided to make like Emeril and kick it up a notch. To 5.5mph I go! But wait, that wasn't enough. Baby, I'm headed to 6 town! No, no, still not enough! I'm going 7. But I didn't roll one there (get it?!). I'm going to 8! And to 9! And 10! Wow! That's a fast treadmill! After continuing at this break-neck pace for a respectable 2 or 3 minutes, I realized I could not continue at this rate, but I could push myself beyond the usual 2.5-3mph I've been averaging. I kept it around 6 the rest of the time and got to 5 miles in 65 minutes! 13 minute miles for 5 miles! WOW! I spent the rest of Sunday on what I think they call a runner's high.

Annnnnd then yesterday (Monday) I came crashing down to what I think they call a fatty's low. My calves burned, my hamstrings screamed, my back shut down completely. I was paralyzed. Of course, this is the day that I come limping (heavily) into work and my boss goes "Surprise field trip! We're going to a conference in Crystal City, I need you to bring this stuff down to my car (points to a collection of every heavy thing that has ever been in this entire 10,000 square foot office)!"

Today the pain's even worse, but at least I get to sit down and write this blog entry. I'll check back in soon, people. Keep reading, keep telling your friends. You've gotten me to almost 1,000 views with readers in 9 different countries! No joke! You're the best!