However, we realized something else over the weekend: Thank God all of this technology did not exist when we were younger. Kids and, let’s be honest, adults, get themselves into SO much trouble with phones these days, it is unreal. And mostly comical, if you’re us, and get to see some of the dumbass things people say and do with their technological companions.

For instance, if we did something stupid as hell – which we certainly did with great frequency – fifteen years ago, there is a pretty good chance there is no physical record of it, other than our memories. No one had a phone to text someone else a picture of our stupidity, or to tell anyone and everyone about it immediately after it happened. Those stories had to wait a day or two, until people actually ran into each other to share tales of drunkenness, and most of the time, all would be forgotten, thanks to said drunkenness. This, our dear friends, was a thing of beauty.

These days, anything you say, shoot, video or upload to your Facebook, Twitter, Flickr, MySpace, whatever accounts is there – FOREVER. So next time you take a drunken spill, or make out with a total loser from your office at a Christmas party, remember that people are happy as hell to catch it on video, and allow it to resurface with ease.

Luckily, we have rarely been embarrassed by much in our lives. We are absolutely aware that we are complete fucking idiots at times. So although not everything we do makes us proud, we are probably not going to get caught on camera doing something asinine.* Fifteen years ago? You fucking betcha.

Happy Monday, everyone.

*Let the countdown begin to that statement biting us the ass.

So when we saw that ESPN and Hank Williams Jr. parted ways this morning over a comment he (HWJ) made about the President and the Speaker of the House playing golf together, we could only think of one thing: Why invoke Hitler’s name? WHY? Not that we care about the comparison, quite honestly. Although, from what we understand, it was not a comparison, but more of a, well, more of a dumbass thing to say. Unless we’re 15 again, and the occasion to use it is in reference to our mother. Otherwise, it is practically a guaranteed way to get yourself fired.

Listen, Hitler was a terrible, terrible person. Mentioning him playing golf with someone ever is still unpalatable for many. So don’t do it. Just don’t do it. We are the first to say good for Hank for telling ESPN that they stepped on the toes of his First Amendment rights, but all large conglomerates will. No one at ESPN thinks for themselves, so Hank had to know, even with his once a week raging anthem, that it would not be tolerated by him either. Thinking for yourself is a terrible thing in that world, which is really worse than anything Hank could have said. The overall lesson here is, teach your children to never use Hitler’s name for any reason (unless they are teenagers, and referring to their mother).

It’s weekend eve, everyone. Go out and get yourselves a beer after work, and slack all day tomorrow because of it.

But now that we’re back, and have very little lined up this week, feel free to check back for our random rants, reviews and requiem.

Before we can jump ahead, we have to rewind a bit…

While we were on vacation, a brand new, US Navy guided-missile destroyer, the USS Spruance, was scheduled to dock in the city we were visiting for its formal commissioning. We took that amazing, once in a lifetime coincidence to sail out to sea, meeting the ship halfway to port, and trailing it back in. The sailors aligned the deck, while military boats and helicopters trailed along their path. It was brilliant, beautiful, and something we were proud to be a part of.

The aftermath, of course, was vacationing in the same city where an entire naval company was finally on leave. On an island. We believe there were approximately 370 total crew on the ship, and although Key West is pretty small, we only encountered a few of the men and women who serve our country dutifully.

The first two, we must admit, we hardly remembered meeting. For the record, we had only been there a day or two when the ship arrived, and had yet to really let loose, so meeting the sailors, and getting shit-housed collided. We had to be reminded of a few things the next day, which never makes us proud. A few days later, we ran into one of the guys and he told us that there was a hysterical story going around the ship about his return that evening, mostly via crawling across the deck. He was also late for his watch the next morning, which pretty much solidifies the fact that our service men should NOT hang with the likes of us when they are on leave.

The second set was more of an observance than an occurrence. We were sitting at a bar when two sailors approached. The first one, when asked what he would like from the bartender responded, “Two Jaegerbombs” immediately turning to his mate to say, “Do you want something?” He was serious. We laughed.

The third was a run in with an incredibly self-assured, super-asshole, who wanted to fight someone immediately. It did not matter who it was, or how he would accomplish the feat, he just wanted to fight. This resulted in him getting thrown out of the bar, but not before insulting anyone who would listen, or being an absolute ass bag to us, before apologizing once he realized there would be none of his shit taken from our end. We determined that he really could have been a nice guy, but that his mother probably abandoned him around seventh grade, and everything just went down hill from there.

The last was a quick chat with a few sailor women at a daiquiri bar, who were just as ready to get loose as the gentlemen we had met before them. After this meeting, we mentioned to the handsome one that it never once occurred to us that there were women on that ship. Silly, right? Of course there were women on the ship. It was just that it never registered in our tiny brain, that’s all. The handsome one made a remark about us being sexist, which we did not outright deny. It was kind of hard to at the juncture.

The good news is, we were able to thank some of the men and women who provide us with the freedom we enjoy day-to-day in person, and that our dear friends, is something we wish we could do more often. God knows they deserve it.

Happy Monday, everyone.

Sometimes we use our friends as barometers, unknowingly. We wrote a recommendation letter for a friend recently, and one of the questions we had to cover was, “How long have you known this person.” Fifteen years, we wittingly worked into the essay, and could not believe it when we typed it. Had it really be fifteen years? She sent us an email saying it felt like longer, to which we agreed. But how? How could so much time have passed, and our lives changed so much since the day we met?

The good news is, wisdom comes with age, and so does change. Thank God. We were never good at being young, anyway. We used a lot of drugs then, and drank heavily more than five times a week. We had shitty boyfriends, and were clueless about the state of the world. Much like most younger people today, we guess. We know that most people do not like the idea of aging, but we feel like we’ve become better people along the way. If nothing more, at least we have better jokes these days. What more can you ask for?

Thinking about getting older always reminds me of the great Stevie Nicks, and the song “Landslide.” Which subsequently makes me think of this…

Happy Tuesday, everyone.

Our heart goes out to Peyton Manning for not being able to do what he loves. We cannot imagine the frustration, and anger he must be feeling right now, since he will not be able to play for at least three months. That is a rather large blow for him personally, and for his team. Problem was, we had no idea how big of a blow until yesterday, when the Colts were trounced by the Houston Texans. Wow. So although we feel terrible for number 18, we do not feel sorry for his fans. If anything, they should be grateful for all the seasons he’s brought them joy, and playoff appearances, not to mention a Superbowl title. But they won’t. Their elitist behavior will not allow for such a concession. They will not be able to stand it. They have been spoiled by all the winning, year after year. To which we say, suck it up, motherfuckers. Our team has sucked for the majority of our lives, and we will never feel bad for another fan’s misery. Ever.

Now: How ’bout those Jets, huh?

Happy Monday, everyone.

Tonight, our dear friends, after a weary and questionable off-season, the National Football League is back in action, with the Saints taking on the Superbowl Champion Packers. The whole thing excites us to tears.

Sunday Night, our beloved Jets will take the nighttime stage by storm, battling the most-hated team on the planet, the Dallas Cowboys.

In between, there’s a menagerie of games for everyone to enjoy, but tonight (TONIGHT!) it all kicks off (see what we did there?), and we are out of minds excited about it. We are also participating in a poker tournament where we could win an Apple iPad 2, so it’s really a grand day all around.

So get your work done, and get your asses home, eat a BLT and a whole sleeve of Pringles (No? Just us?), and enjoy the all-encompassing glory of football that matters being on the telly.

Happy first day of football, everyone!

This morning, while walking our dog, we spotted a rather overweight girl, shamelessly flirting with a waiter who was doing everything but spraying her with a fire hose to deflect her advances. As we laughed to ourselves on the inside, we later noted that he had probably already slept with the poor girl in a moment of weakness at some point, otherwise, she would have never embarrassed herself with that straw tactic. This then reminded us of a time in high school, when we, and maybe eight of our fellow high schoolers were all sitting in an office, when another girl walked up, with deliberate seduction, pouring herself onto the threshold while asking what can only be remembered as a stupid question. Much to her dismay, we all presented a horrified face, before falling to the ground in laughter. She left without saying a word, and we lived off that beautiful experience for the rest of the school year.

Elsewhere, lunchtime, opposite end of the avenue…
Keep in mind when we write these things, that we spend a lot of time with our handsome boyfriend. If it would have been at all feasible for him to come hangout on the couch in the office we were working from the past two days, we would have loved nothing more. We don’t even have to talk to each other in public settings, as we can typically read each others’ minds. It’s a thing of beauty. So, when he’s not around, it is necessary to pour into a newspaper, much like we did today, while waiting in line for pizza. Mostly because we can hear everyone else talk to each other, and we judge them for it. Like the group of guys behind us…One of which was telling a peculiarly long and boring tale of his wife’s father’s misfortune in a terrible neighborhood. When asked, which is exactly what we were thinking, “What was he doing in that neighborhood?” he responded, “He was lost.” MMM. Hmmm. Lost. The other guys lost interest long enough to see us raise up from the paper, with a smirk and raised brow. Two laughed, and we re-adjusted before the story-teller was hip to our skepticism.

Late day, outside of Starbucks…
We wandered past a bunch of fucking idiots wearing long sleeved shirts and ties, sitting outside in 98 degree heat. We, wearing shorts and a tee, begged our dog to walk faster to avoid prolonged exposure, while these fools drank lattes in full boar sun. We guess anything is better than being at work at 2pm on a Thursday, but damn…it’s fucking hot outside.

That’s it for us. We’re officially off on a long weekend of concerts, family, friends and booze. Lots and lots of booze. Take care, and enjoy it. But remember, if you go to jail tonight, you will not get out until Tuesday. Have fun, be safe, and for God’s sake, take a cab.

Anyway, as we were walking, we stopped in front of a USA Today stand, and thought what we always think about USA Today: It’s a total rag. It’s one of those papers that you are only happy to see in front of your hotel door in the mornings while traveling. But to be fair, the hotel could put their newsletter out there, and we’d be just as happy to peruse it, especially if it had a crossword on it.

We digress. So, while our dog peed on everything around, we thought screw it, we’re getting this paper, because by the time we get home, the handsome one will have completed the crossword in our daily paper (also a rag, by the way – same publisher, so go figure), leaving us with nothing. Maybe. Usually he saves half for us, but today, we’re pretty sure he won’t be able to help himself. So, one American dollar later, we have our paper.

This is what is on the front page…

Why prove us right? WHY PROVE US RIGHT?! Who gives a shit how many people pet their dogs while they’re in the car with them? WHY USA TODAY? WHY?

Ugh. I put it back down, and am now going to finish up some actual work, and get out of here. Back home, where I belong. At least until tomorrow. Have a great day, everyone. The long weekend is upon us.

The interesting thing about this hip hop obsession is that while we write, we put on our noise canceling headphones and blast out to an old school hip hop internet station that we absolutely love. What we didn’t notice, however, is that our mood, emotion, and overall uh, temperament, was being determined by our musical choices. We used to laugh at people who thought their kids were devil worshipers because they listened to Black Sabbath, or whores because they listened to Brittany Spears. But now? There might be something to that, especially the latter.

After a rather lengthy, for lack of a better phrase, rock block of Public Enemy, we definitely feel more militant. More apt to Fight the Power, if you will. Three NWA songs in a row? We are motherfuckin’ everyone around. Even Queen Latifah has us feeling obligated to defend ourselves upon hearing U-N-I-T-Y. Who you calling a ho? Tell ‘em, sister.

We have always touted our interest in music as being “real” hip hop fans, and we will never, ever back down from that. Hell, something inside us comes alive when we here MC Breeze explain that there’s no future in fronting. Who doesn’t know that, anyhow? Rookies.

The good news is, we’re pretty well-rounded. For God’s sake, we dragged the handsome one to a Little River Band concert a couple of months ago, and are out of our skulls excited to take in an REO Speedwagon concert this weekend (we’ve never seen them live…this is a real treat, people). We love Al Green, probably more than any other artist, Otis Redding a close second, and will not hesitate to bang our heads to AC/DC or Jackyl. Our versatility has served us well. Although, we hate country. And we judge people who like it. We’re fickle and crazy that way. But, deep in our heart, hip hop is our first love. And that, our dear friends, we love about ourselves. After all, Life is…Too Short.

Happy Tuesday, everyone.