Name Withheld

Minnie's and NAMEWITHHELD are Banned



Or/And



I've Learned my Lesson About Music Piracy



Friday I played poker with the boys.

Yeah, right. Acquaintances.

Let me rephrase: I went to a poker party with a bunch of people I vaguely know.

Acquaintances can be fun every once in awhile, but every time I'm in one of these situations, I remember why they are acquaintances and not friends.

Basically, bottom line is, I don't share much in common with them and they aren't used to just how drunk I can become.

Friday I was really drunk.

I became annoyed first with this one guy who was drinking apple juice and eating trailmix at a goddamn poker party. I limited my hatred for his health to asking if this large phone/computer thingy he had was a tricorder.

Steve and I were the only people to get the joke.

This pissed me off even more.

Next, there was this guy who figured he was Hoyle and went around explaining how great he was at poker.

The next thing you know, I realize that everyone but Steve and I, at the party, was INTO poker.

Big time.

I've seen this before: a group of people who collectively have the attention span of Yoda and have tuned that expanse of paying attention to the awesome world that is Celebrity Poker.

I, on the other hand, have no attention span to anything involving directions.

None.

That's one of the many reason I hate most sports: I nod off the second I hear "A first down is..."

So, I'm stuck in this game of poker that has been brilliantly choreographed to look like the World Series of Poker if it were to be played in some dude's garage.

A timer was set up to make sure the games didn't run too long. The chips came in a case that looked like it should be holding some Stiletto pistol in a Bond movie. A large "Dealer" chip was used to identify the dealer.

Wait for it......

What the? A "Dealer" chip? Did I miss something? Did we need a chip to identify the man or woman who was tossing cards at players?

Good lord.

And of course, I was the first dealer.

I think some of the guys folded if for only this fact.



The games progressed and I got steadily drunker. I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't have the brain functions to even identify the cards, much less a straight flush. Yet, I was up and winning.

But, God doesn't like a loser to win, unless you're running for president, and he stopped this quickly.

According to my acquaintances and Steve, I almost won on some type of flush that I didn't even know existed.

I was now out and glad. I smoked a cigarette and played dice with a couple of the other losers.

One loser in particular, NAME WITHHELD, is no longer an acquaintance. He's been regulated to the part of my brain I call "Where I keep the thought of assholes, just in case I ever get faith in humanity."

NAMEWITHHELD was an acquaintance that I didn't like at first, but then, grew to think he was a descent dude, as long as other people weren't around for him to impress.

Most of my good friends can't stand the dude, but I've stuck up for him because he never really pissed me off.

Well, a few dice games in and I'm slurring the word "the" and having trouble figuring out what dice even are, when I mistake a rule and break it in some way that NAMEWITHHELD found retarded. Now, I'm being called Corky every other second – NAMEWITHHELD has around three jokes to his repertoire and Corky is his big gun.

So I'm putting up with this, like a champ, and not letting it bug me too badly.
I go out to take a piss and come back in to hear everyone laughing. It seems Steve asked NAMEWITHHELD what he was doing and he replied "I'm at the shit table with Eckert."

This pissed me off only because it was behind my back.

Soon, we were leaving and NAMEWITHHELD was dealing cards.

It's a well-known fact that NAMEWITHHELD got laid off and has been looking for work. In fact, I tried to get him a job at my company.

So, I see him dealing and said something to the effect of "Hey, maybe you can get a job doing that."

Not even funny, or worth a burn, but I'm not used to giving shit in anger.

As I walked out, I shot him the bird and then bitched to Steve about what a toolshed NAMEWITHHELD is.

Toolshed isn't really the word, it's more like prick: this is the guy who secretly recorded sex with some chick.



Anywonder.

So, Steve and I go to Minnie's and I realize, for the foreverenth time, that Minnie's food tastes like shit. Minnie's is now BANNED from my list of diners.

Nothing happened after that and I went home and finished my omelet and slept.

When I woke up I started feeling guilty about giving NAMEWITHHELD a hard time, seeing as his unemployment is a sore subject.

This quickly passed and I began my day.



Later on, Scott called and reminded me that I had invited him to the hockey game I was supposed to go to with him, Shanna, Steve, and NAMEWITHHELD.

I had nothing better to do, and I figured: fuck it, I'll apologize to the guy for the job comment and go to the game.

I figured, on the one hand, he's a prick; but, on the other hand, I acted like a prick as well.

So, I went to the game.

At the game we ran into Steve and NAMEWITHHELD and I apologized. NAMEWITHHELD gave me a "no biggie, I don't even remember it" and then went into a whole new barrage of "Corky's." Then, knowing that I have this damn website thingy, I mentioned that I saw this guy Nate and NAMEWITHHELD goes "Oh, you gonna write about it?"

That comment was actually funny, but it pissed me off that the prick was going to just start in with the bullshit. Not only that, this prick asked for my help (like anyone needs help) setting up a weblog of his own.

The whole time he's doing this, Steve is giving me a look like "He's piss drunk, watch out" and trying to calm NAMEWITHHELD down.

I walked away relieved that I wasn't the one acting like a douchebag for once.



Later, at Peso's, we ran into NAMEWITHHELD again and he was just as drunk and belligerent. It hit me again: good lord, I'm glad I don't get like that anymore.

I left after a beer.





So, I learned my lesson about music piracy.

Yeah, right, but I'm sure not going to be brazen about it.

For the last month I've been scouring the web for leaks of the new Nails album. Well, one of the places I Googled was this douchebag's site where he explained that he had the link, but anyone who asked him for it was a degenerate for wanting to pirate the song.

I left a comment on his page, letting him know that he was a douchebag and I think this angered him. He went off in his comments on me, so I posted an even more smartass remark. This got no attention, until I made the mistake of putting my URL on there, so that he might post the song.

I should've known better. He hit my site the very day I posted the incredible shot of my tongue and when I looked at his site today, my ugly visage was the topic of hatred.

I never would've imagined that getting "Good God You're Ugly" comments would bother me, coming from the anonymous world of the web, especially coming from a fucking dude, especially one that seems to be versed in enough technology, file swapping, and groupiness that I'm certain he lives with his mother and is holding a managerial post at a Best Buy in Wichita.

But....dear god....i......i was hurt.

It wasn't so much the comment, but the idea that someone hated me enough to post what would be a mean comment if I was someone who took a great deal of pride in my looks.

It totally ruined my day! What the hell? It's like that comment grew me a pussy.

Oh, well.

My next lesson about piracy came in the form of a large, naked black man.

That's right.

So, today a bunch of new stuff leaked and I was able to download a good deal of it. But, I was like that puppy who sees his own reflection in a pond, goes after the bone in his...OK, you know what fucking story I mean...the puppy one.

Anyway, so I'm greedily looking for more clips to complete the set of Nails song excerpts, when I see this hyperlink to what is explained as the entire album.

Without a moment's hesitation I click the link and a large, naked black man (at work, mind you) appears on my screen. I believe he was doing someone or something from behind, but I can only guess, as the second he popped up I was clicking the exit button like a madman.

I finally got rid of the image. But, he was up long enough to say "Hey, Matt, like your job? Well, while I'm boning this chick, I just figured I'd go ahead and let you know how I feel about downloading music. You see, anyone on the Internet who is well versed in computers and has a stalker-like love for a particular musician gets pissed off when you try to download that musician's music. See, these folks think they're buddies with that musician and that if they stick up for their buddy, somewhere down the line, that musician will be a buddy of theirs. I guess these people are lonely; I don't really know. But, I do know this: I'm Coming!!!!!!!"



And, you know, for a large, naked black man boning a chick, he was a pretty nice guy.



Pleace,

Matt