I thought it funny that I was less of a geek than she is...
Course, she spends her days with her nose in a petri dish... I spend mine finding ways of killing time at work...
So here is my results of the infamous Polygeek Quiz!
You are 21% geek
OK, so maybe you ain't a geek. You do, at least, show a bit of interest in the world around you. Either that, or you have enough of a sense of humor to pick some of the sillier answers on the test. Regardless, you're probably a pretty nifty, well-rounded person who gets along fine with people and can chat with just about anyone without fear of looking stupid or foolish or overly concerned with minutiae. God, I hate you.
So for the start of the new marking period, I decide that since I have all these poems sitting around, I'm gonna take Poetry as my very last English class in high school. I figure I won’t even have to work, just feed some of my old poems to the teacher and ace the class.
Unbelievably, this works.
(Though I do write a few new poems.)
However what makes this class memorable is the seating. Specifically mine.
To my right is a girl named Cathy Queen.
I have known Cathy since about 3rd grade, I’d say.
I never really got to know her that well prior to Poetry class, never more than just hello and such.
Cathy was a short, fat girl with reddish-brown hair and freckles.
Being blatantly, horribly, brutally honest about it, she looked like a human Weeble-Wobble.
It was mostly her body shape.
But her face, well, her face was cute. I always thought it was a shame she was overweight, because she’d be a bit of a looker otherwise. To go with her reddish-brown hair and cute freckles, she had these live, expressive eyes and a pretty smile
But, sadly, the weight kind of ruined it for her.
(I can only too well relate to this. I can’t tell you how many people, thinking they’re being nice, tell me, “You know, you’d be soooo handsome if you were just… Thin.” Ahhh, yes... The infamous backhanded compliment...)
Cathy always kind of kept to herself, and seemed to have the reputation of being mean. I believe this had to do with her beating the hell out of a boy in 4th grade.
To my left is another girl, named Lindsey Eristoff.
I do not know Lindsey, yet, but before the end of the school year, I will know her quite well.
Lindsey is only a little shorter than I am, with beautiful green eyes and this long, fiery red hair. Her smile is infectious.
I discover this the first day of class, when we all have to write a sample of our poetry.
I offer this:
This life I’ve lived has known no equal,
So I guarantee there’ll be no sequel.
She smiled and told me she loved it.
I fell in love with her immediately.
And so it went, the last marking period.
I had Lindsey to my left, who loved every last thing I wrote, who was very pretty, and who I was falling more head over heels for with each class. We exchanged phone numbers after a few weeks and we started to talk at home.
But on my right, I had Cathy. Cathy liked my stuff too, but always was critical of what needed to be worked on. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I was getting my ego stroked by Lindsey, so I didn’t want to be torn down by Cathy.
After a while, Cathy started warming up to me and we joked around a lot.
But at the same time, I was starting to hang out with Lindsey outside of school.
I was going over to her house for lunch almost every day.
She was playing the piano for me, showing me what she was learning in her lessons (mostly Carole King).
We started finding out about each other’s past, our likes and dislikes, we started getting each other into different music.
We had connected on a friendship level
She was into The Cure, The Smiths and Carole King.
Me, I was into Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and The Beatles.
She told me she didn’t want to ever get married, she didn’t want kids, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to the prom. She hated everything they stood for. (She was an aspiring, yet novice feminist…)
Me? I wanted all three.
I ended up (thus far) with two of the three. (But that’s both for later and for another story…)
Lindsey loved everything that I wrote. It’s directness, it’s wit, and it’s openness.
Lindsey was also an aspiring poet. But truthfully, I couldn’t get what she was writing about half the time. I had to honestly work at understanding her work.
Hey, I was falling in love. You do weird shit like that… Like ignoring the fact that the girl you’re falling for has completely different wants in life…
Lindsey also tells me over lunch one day about a guy that she liked.
“Is he bigger than me?” I asked, trying not to show the crack that suddenly appeared in my heart.
She smiles and told me about this guy, Pete, who she had met the year before. He was really cute and really funny and she really liked him.
One problem, though.
At the end of the previous school year, he moved to Arizona to live with his mother.
“That’s too bad.” I said, my heart suddenly doing cartwheels of joy.
Well, that takes care of that, then.
I’m a senior. So is Cathy.
Lindsey is a junior.
May comes and I am looking for a prom date.
Being close with Lindsey now, I ask her.
Yes… I DO realize she had told me weeks before she didn’t want to go.
Which could be why she tells me no.
I tell Cathy this the next day and she brightens up. “Oh, that’s too bad, Potch. Well, I’m sure you’ll find… (Dramatic pause here…) Someone… (Another dramatic pause) Who wants to go with you.”
“I hope so. I really want to go…”
Cathy smiles knowingly.
So I ask Sheryl, a platonic friend to go.
As my backup.
You know, if I can’t find anyone to go with.
She’s pretty understanding of my situation and agrees.
She’ll be my platonic prom date if I can’t find anyone else to go with.
One year later, when she was graduating, this would come back to bite me in the ass, BIG TIME.
But that’s another story.
I tell Cathy about Sheryl agreeing to go, and she frowns.
“Why would you ask a friend to go?”
I explain that she’s a backup, in case I can’t find someone who wants to go with me.
She cheers up and says, “Oh, well… That’s okay then I can understand that. I have a backup as well.”
Yes, I am really this clueless at age eighteen…
My friend Dick dropped out in January. He has been working odd jobs for a few months, nothing making him happy.
April Fool’s Day, he walks into my room and wakes me up by telling me he has joined the Navy.
I say, “Good one.” And roll back over.
Three weeks later, after he has shown us his papers, we FINALLY believe he has joined up. He is supposed to ship out the last week in May.
His girlfriend, Chris, is pissed off.
She now has no prom date.
Chris and I go back to Kindergarten together. We even dated for about a nano-second in eighth grade. We have gotten along as friends ever since.
She offers me a ride home one day and opens up about her feelings for Dick and how she can’t believe he did this without telling her.
And now she has no prom date, as he’ll be in basic training by then.
I say that I don’t have one either.
And it kind of hits us at the same time.
I check this out with Dick and he’s actually glad she’ll still be able to go and it’ll be with someone he can trust.
The next day, I tell Lindsey during lunch about it.
“Why are you so fixated on such a bourjeuois ritual?”
That afternoon, I tell Cathy.
“Oh… Well, that’s nice. You’re doing a good thing…”
She trails off and is distant from me for the rest of the class.
But at least I am going to the prom.
PART TWO: THE PROM
Three weeks before the prom, two weeks before shipping out, Dick finds out his entry date has been postponed until July.
I immediately offer to back off.
I can always go with Sheryl.
Chris will not hear of it.
“You’ve already rented your tux. Dick brought this on himself. He’ll get to miss out.”
Dick secretly thanks me for having offered to take her in the first place.
Now he doesn’t have to go.
The prom comes and Chris looks beautiful.
However, Chris is in a pissy mood.
She wishes Dick was there.
Especially since he’s back at Steve’s place with Phil and the Colonel, drinking and having a good time.
After about two hours of this mood, I am wishing I were there too.
I can not take being around Chris, whose mood has gone from pissy to mopey.
I get up and decide to walk around, see who I know.
There, in a corner, is Cathy. She looks quite pretty in a pink gown, with her hair done up.
I also notice she’s lost some weight for the prom.
I walk up to her and ask what’s up.
“My date is hanging out with his friends.”
“I don’t have one… I had to use my backup. He’s blowing me off.”
“Chris is in a mood. She wishes Dick was here.”
“Seems like the prom pretty much sucks for both of us.”
“Of course, we could always… Hang out… Together…”
We danced the rest of the night away together, laughing, joking, smiling and having a great old time.
We even danced the last dance together, Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight.”
“Cathy… You, uhh… You really do look wonderful tonight.”
She smiled and put her head on my chest and held me tighter.
Adventures Of A Band At A Home Town Bar One Friday Night In October
The following was taken from a conversation I had with the ever-lovable, Kendoka!
Potch: I been hanging with my band a little to long this weekend... The crassness of boys...
Potch: Course... The stuff that happens to us... Jeez...
Kendoka: no problem
Kendoka: any public sex acts this time?
Potch: Uhhh, well... Actually, yes.
Kendoka: uh oh...
Potch: I don't know what it is, people just seem to like having sex when we play...
Kendoka: you could market yourself as the next viagra
Potch: We're Jersey's version of Barry White...
Potch: There's this pretty girl who comes up to me on our break.
Potch: She introduces herself (Cathy) and tells me I sing REALLY well.
Potch: That, when we did this Pearl Jam song (You've Got To Hide Your Love Away, Beatles cover), she thought they had put the jukebox back on until she turned and saw me singing.
Potch: One of the better compliments I have gotten.
Potch: (I looooooove Eddie Vedder.)
Potch: (I wanna BE Eddie Vedder)
Potch: (I wanna have Eddie Vedder's love child...)
Kendoka: I’ve just never been too into pearl jam. But I like
weird al's song about them (;
Potch: (Which since I'm a guy, would be PRETTY FARKING HARD...)
Potch: (And a straight guy at that...)
Kendoka: how are things in the big apple today?
Potch: Pretty good.
Kendoka: that's good.
Potch: So anyway, she asks us to play another PJ song.
Kendoka: any celebrity sightings today?
Potch: I'm telling a STORY here...
Potch: No celeb sightings... Yet...
Potch: (X-Mas time, lots of them.)
Potch: So... We play this PJ song like third song in our 2nd set.
Potch: We finish and she runs up to me and hugs me and kisses my
Potch: She’s obviously drunk.
Potch: Cause this kind of thing doesn't normally happen to me when people are sober...
Potch: It's just not my life...
Potch: Later that night, we're about to play Glory Days by Bruce and her and her equally attractive friend ask to sing.
Kendoka: uh oh
Potch: So we give them the cordless mic and I move over so they can see the songbook.
Potch: I am now playing sideways, facing them. My ass is up against my guitar stand, I can't move.
Potch: So we start the song.
Potch: Halfway through, Cathy decides to start dancing with me.
Potch: I am uncomfortable and don't know where to look.
Kendoka: uh oh
Potch: The drummer sees this and yells out, "Look at HER you dope!"
Potch: Mind you, he's married with four kids.
Potch: He's just like that.
Potch: So, I admit, I looked.
Potch: Just then, she turns around to dance with her friend, but she kind of backs towards me.
Potch: Mind you, I can't move.
Potch: And I can't stop playing.
Potch: My hand is rubbing against her booty.
Potch: I try moving back, she moves with me.
Kendoka: Oh, dear
Potch: There is nothing I can do, short of stop playing.
Potch: I honestly (My hand to Harold) tried moving, but she kept moving to meet me...
Kendoka: aren't drunken people GREAT
Potch: Quick aside... New Leann Rimes is on... Isn't it a sign of the apocalypse when LEANN RIMES says "Daddy Mac" in a song?
Potch: Yes they are.
Potch: Okay. Song ends. We play "Play That Funky Music White Boy"
to end the show.
Potch signed off at 12:05:32 PM.
Potch signed on at 12:06:26 PM.
Potch: I got booted.
Kendoka: ew, that would be gross
Kendoka: I don't snowski very well, anyway, so I wouldn’t really want to try this.... (;
Potch: Where was I? Story's getting good now.
Kendoka: play that funky music, white boy.
Potch: Okay. Cathy sits. Her friend stays up to dance. Alone.
Potch: Quite sexually.
Potch: She was moving her butt like she was having sex.
Potch: No joke, we have pics.
Kendoka: and lucky her, they'll be posted on the Internet, right?
Potch: YOU GOT IT TOYOTA!
Kendoka: oh dear
Kendoka: for the record, I had no part in this (;
Potch: I love digital cameras...
Kendoka: I’m pure and innocent
Kendoka: however, I will take an un-zen-like moment to laugh
Potch: We finish playing. The girls just disappear.
Potch: Of course.
Potch: They always do.
Potch: Besides, I’m married, what the hell am I gonna do?
Potch: So we pack up and load out.
Potch: I am standing outside in the brisk October air, all the band's equipment on the sidewalk.
Potch: Cathy comes up with this guy on her arm
Potch: She asks if we can get her a bottle of water from inside.
Potch: Our Road Manager, D, says to follow him. They go inside, the boyfriend stays outside.
Kendoka: uh oh
Potch: We look at each other and it clicks.
Potch: We know each other.
Potch: I ask him his name.
Potch: Frank Willams.
Potch: I say, "Frankie Williams? From Troop 5?"
Kendoka: boy scouts?
Potch: We were in Boy Scouts together.
Potch: So we're catching up a little when Cathy comes back out.
Potch: Frankie tells her we used to be in B.S. together.
Kendoka: uh oh
Potch1214: She looks me right in the eye and says...
Kendoka: oh dear
Potch: "Did he do you?"
Potch: My jaw drops.
Potch: I stammer out, "Uhhh. No. Nothing like that..."
Potch: She says...
Potch: "Too bad, I was envisioning a three way..."
Potch: I AM FLOORED.
Potch: I AM SPEECHLESS.
Kendoka: as i would have been
Potch: I AM WISHING TO GOD I WASN'T MARRIED.
Potch: I’m kidding…
Potch: I wasn't floored or speechless.
Kendoka: i was figuring the "um.... And why are you telling me this?" kind of floored and speechless
Potch: I am alternately turned on and appalled.
Kendoka: or the "don't open your mouth or you'll fall to the ground in hysterical laughter" kind of speechless
Potch: To say the least.
Potch: And it's STILL not over...
Kendoka: dear, lord
Potch: She then says...
Potch: (To prove exactly how much of a tramp she is...)
Potch: "We have to go, I promised I'd blow him..."
Kendoka: good heavens.
Potch: If I'm lying, I'm dying.
Kendoka: it makes me blush to even think about saying something like that (;
Potch: Our drummer, looks at me, smiles, and says, "Go with God."
Potch: We laugh our asses off.
Potch: Frank smiles.
Potch: Why does Frank smile?
Potch: He is about to get some.
Kendoka: i'm just too sweet and innocent to say something like that
Potch: So, story STILL not over.
Kendoka: uh oh
Potch: We have to go get the car and van to load them up. Our bass player goes to get his van, and we all happen to watch him walk into the parking lot.
Potch: And there...
Kendoka: do i even want to know
Potch: There, in the Honda Civic in FRONT of the van, is Frank, standing next to an open driver's side door.
Potch: You do the math.
Potch: Not even a football field away from Police HQ.
Potch: So, they have to stop when Blair gets to his van.
Potch: Instead, he gets in the car.
Potch: So then, after loading the van, I go to get my car, behind the Civic.
Potch: And he's got his head back in the driver’s seat, with his hands bobbing up and down.
Kendoka: aaaaaaaaahhh... tmi! tmi!!!
Potch: I KNOW!
Potch: If I had to SEE it, I gotta put that visual in SOMEBODY
Potch: I kept picturing him in his khakis and red beret.
Potch: Which made it even WORSE!
Potch: Needless to say, the band was pissing ourselves for like fifteen minutes.
Potch: AND... They were STILL there after we left.
I am referring, of course to the bastard stepchild of MTV, VH1
Now, I have only read about this here, but this has just incensed me to the point of anger.
VH-SCUM, in their rating freefall of late, has started getting desperate. For instance, have you tuned in during primetime recently and seen, say, the Rerun Show (Or whatever it's called)? Or some Charlie's Angels repeats?
VH-SCUM has gotten to a desperation point, because their ratings have fallen so much, they are trying to do anything to pick them.
You know, I'm not saying it's a terrible idea. HOWEVER, if you're THAT fucking HARD-UP for something new, how about you take that half-an-hour and about 1/5 of the budget and put my band on your stupid fucking channel, instead of promoting a band of inmates, murderers, rapists and thieves?
Or perhaps I should resport to killing someone... Then I can go to jail and GET ON FUCKING VH-SCUM!!!
I plan on writing VH-SCUM a letter and I fully plan of avoiding their station at all costs. If you feel likewise, I suggest you do the same.
Sadly, David Gilmour (of all people) has been knocking down Pink Floyd reunion rumors earlier this month.
And last night, a Sam & Dave special on VH1 (Quite good if you can catch a repeat) indicated that neither singer has been in contact with the Van Halen boys, but (in the slim hope catagory) that neither would exactly hang up the phone if Eddie or Alex called them.
Keep tuned here for developments as they occur.
Lee 10/14/2002 08:18:00 AM [+]
Saturday, October 12, 2002
Week From Hell
Okay, sorry I haven't been around this past week, but life at Potch's house has been pretty suck-ass for about a week now.
It all started on Friday when my beloved Yankees blew a 6-1 lead in pivotal game 3 of the division series against the Angels.
The next night they were shelled into oblivion by one terrifically BAD inning. The Yankees were done for the year.
I then proceed to grab several pillows and decide it would be best to WAIL on them with all my might.
This resulted in my pulling every muscle in my right arm.
Then I got into a fight with my wife.
So Saturday sucked.
Sunday was my mom's birthday.
We also found out that morning that my 2nd cousin, Gerald, had killed himself the night before.
This was horrible, terrible news you never want to hear.
Wednesday, I find out that our rent check bounced... By three dollars...
Also Wednesday, my wife took a fall at work and severely sprained her ankle.
She then had to wait at my doctors for an hour, Doctors on Duty for two more and then Union General for 7.5 HOURS...
She and my mother (who was with her, she asked that I stay home, straighten up and cook dinner) finally get home at 1 AM.
Thursday and Friday, I stay home and help Sheila out with anything I can. (Dishes, cooking, cleaning, helping her move, etc.)
Today, we had to cancel a trip to Cooperstown we have been planning for five months. It was only gonna be for a couple of days, but it is LITERALLY the only chance we are going to have to go anywhere until next summer.
AND, I just read about my friend, Roughy's (From UE), problem with the Avon Breast Cancer Walkathon in LA next weekend. Read the story about it here. (If you can help him out in anyway possible, please do.)
In all, Potch is pretty bummed right now.
Lee 10/12/2002 01:35:00 PM [+]
Okay, I am a big fan of what most in the media call "shock radio." It started in the late 70's with Don Imus, was taken over and exploded to the nth degree by Howard Stern, the self-appointed King Of All Media. The tradition has been (mostly badly) continued and copied by the likes of The Greaseman, Mancow, All the morning Zoo programs and Opie And Anthony.
Of all those who followed Stern, Opie And Anthony were undoubtedly the best. Stern even seemed to like them.
Two months ago, they were fired from their syndicated radio program based at New York's WNEW. Why were they fired? They were holding an on-air contest for who could have sex in the craziest place.
So they put on two listeners who were having sex...
At St. Patrick's cathedral.
The couple got caught.
Catholics everywhere got their panties in a bunch. (Kind of like they have been for decades with Stern)
Opie And Anthony, for airing the bit, got canned, losing out on millions in syndication, and essentially crippling WNEW (whose only draw WAS Opie & Anthony...)
WNEW was hailed as heroes for not just "slapping them on the wrist."
And then all their praisers went back to listening to the God Squad or Lite-FM.
And through all of this, I had to wonder...
What EXACTLY did Opie and Anthony do WRONG?
They showed some lack of judgement perhaps, but is THAT something they should LOSE THEIR JOBS OVER?
I mean, really, who got hurt here?
Assuming the lady performing the sexual act was not a virgin, I am guessing no one.
Being perfectly frank, you can clean the bench or the vestibule...
And if you have a problem going to St. Patrick's because you "just know" that two people had sex there, well... Do I even need to bring up the priestophiles who have been sodomizing young boys? Most likely IN church?
I guess I do...
But, back to the point, the couple did something wrong; performing a lewd act in public. They were arrested, so the couple will pay the penalty for their sexual act.
But Opie and Anthony lose their jobs for airing someone ELSE'S insane act? (Even if they did egg it on, they made NO ONE perform ANY sexual acts AT ALL...)
I am not saying that O & A should not have been punished at all. They clearly showed a lack of judgement and taste. But to fire them was simply overkill.
So obviously, I am a fan of the whole free-speech thing.
And I have to say, now there's someone who went too far and deserves to be fired.
It seems that a DJ in Phoenix, Arizona, a Beau Duran, from KUPD-FM, decided, since the local Diamondbacks were playing the Cardinals in the playoffs, he'd have some fun with it.
He made a call to one Flynn Kile and asked her if she had a date for Thursday night's game.
What's wrong with that, you ask?
Flynn Kile's husband Darryl pitched for the Cardinals...
Until he DIED OF A HEART ATTACK IN JUNE!
Chuck Artigue, the Market Manager for the Sandusky group, which owns KUPD, said the prank was in "terribly bad taste" but no action would be taken against Duran.
None. Nada. Zilch. Zippo.
He calls the widow of a baseball player and puts her through unneeded mental anguish by tormenting her with a completely classless prank, just for laughs.
FOR MOTHER FUCKING LAUGHS!
Folks, I can not believe the complete lack of tact here. The lack of class. The lack of compassion.
You know what, if I (being a Yankee fan) had a reason to root against the D-Backs before, I SURE AS HELL can't stand them now!
What? They had nothing to do with this either?
Well, Opie and Anthony didn't have sex in a church, but they got fired for being the impetus of the act.
So, I'll use the same backwards logic and make this out to be the D-Backs fault.
Although, just blaming the backwards state of Arizona itself would probably be cool too. I mean, they didn't recognize Martin Luther King Day until what, two , three years ago?
Folks, I still like "Shock" radio, but you have to know when to draw the lines. I am cool with just about ANYTHING you want to do as long as no one else gets hurt as a result of your actions.
Flynn Kile was wronged.
I hope she sued the radio station and ends up owning it.
I hope Beau Duran gets fired.
And then gets his ass kicked on an interview for a job in St. Louis or Denver or Houston (The towns that Kile pitched in.)
And I hope Opie And Anthony get back on the air soon. Because while they pushed the envelope, they DIDN'T hurt anyone in the process.
And to all you Stern wannabe's out there, get a new fucking act okay, you go too far, you have no idea what scruples are, you just keep upping the "shock" factor to try and get ratings while none of you try to actually use and talent you might have.
I simply say to you clones: It's just not funny anymore, assholes.
Lee 10/04/2002 10:03:00 AM [+]