Northbound neighbor. Good people with a dog named Levi, he's a biter.Eastbound neighbor. Two nice single ladies, not sure if they're biters.Westbound neighbor. Jury is still out since they haven't introduced themselves. And vice versa...Southbound neighbor. NAPALM YOUR F'N YARD.Southbound neighbor, Jim, na...we'll call him Gym to retain some anonymity. Gym welcomed me to the neighborhood by offering me some of his fresh chocolate balls. (Pause for effect) Breathe easy, people, Gym is white and oddly enough his teeth are blue. Its like a pen leaked in his mouth while he was chewing on it. However, he makes flavored chocolate balls and sells them on the internet. Strawberry, banana, cherry, and my personal favorite, maple. I'm not sure how well his internet biz is going, but considering that he still lives next to me, not well.Have you ever seen "The Burbs" or any movie involving a jungle? Thats Gym's yard, which spills over into my yard. Finding a blade of grass in his "yard" is like finding a christian at a gay rights rally. If ya look hard enough, you can find one!! This type of apathetic lawn control seems to make me think he isn't really the Mark Cuban of internet chocolate balls...who knew. Lets play a game called, "If Gym's E-business was doing well..."
...he could find a day laborer at Home Depot to mow his lawn for him....he could afford a legitimate lawn service to tame his yard...he could stop fostering delinquent juveniles, that don't mow lawns....he could marry a woman who can operate a John Deere push-mower....he would have a better job that didn't lead him to sleep all day and not mow his lawn....he would know that his crap-ass lawn/weeds/hedges are devaluing my house....he would live in a fuckin' mansion on Ward Parkway.3 out of 4 neighbors isn't bad, I guess...
I like names..I like naming things. Its my favorite. I wish I could have named myself, however, I lacked creativity as an embryo. I had plenty of time to think of a name as I spent 9 months, chillin' in my moms uterus. Or as I like to call it, my first apartment. 
If I ever get a dog, I will name it either "Super" or "Female." The thought of having a male dog that responds to "Female ", makes me smile. I had parakeets named Hulk and Zeus from Hulk Hogan's finest movie, the 1989 steroid-jerker, No Holds Barred. **SPOILER ALERT** Hulk comes out on top!!Every year our family plays Fantasy Football and I am forced to think of a hilarious name for a team that will eventually get second to last. So far, I've been known as "Nancy Roop's Rose Bush", "Forever in Blue Jeans" and my personal favorite "8 Bitches on a Bitch Boat."None of these team names impress my parents as much as I think they would. They usually look at me as if I just told them I fathered all of the Octomoms bastard children. However this is a new year. Another opportunity to show my parents just how dirty my mind really is.I entertained team names such as "Casual Rape", "Poo Particles", and "Horizontal Stimulation." However, after being put on the spot by my brother, The Commish, I came up with my 2009 Fantasy Football team name. Dun, dun, dun....The Sperm Dumpsters. I might get taken out of my parents will...
Recently I was at the business end of a great...great...epic hoax. I don't recommend being on the receiving end of a prank, however this one ended without bleeding, humiliation or a cavity search. Or as I like to call it, a "hole punch."
This was orchestrated by a co-worker named, Nathan Ellis. He went to the trouble to locate a baseball card, forge a signature upon it, write me a letter posing as someone else. Oh and not to mention mail it...from a state 1,500 miles away. This is a classic case of fraud, man-fraud to be exact! I'm not really sure this even illegal. I've been attempting to pose as a competent human for atleast 26 years, while hiding my more slightly retarded side that is hungover majority of the time.
C
lick on the image to get the story summed up and witness the evidence that belongs in the Smithsonian...no, the Louvre...no wait, yeah the Smithsonian.
If you have trouble reading the text within the JPEG due to the image quality, read below "August 7th, 2009 blind-sided me as if I was Helen Keller running across the middle against the Steelers. I received this letter and autographed baseball card from my favorite baseball player ever, Robin Ventura.
This comes as a great/suspicious surprise. Weeks prior to this I had posted an "Irrelevant Scott Fact" on FAcebook stating, "When I was 2nd grade I wrote Robin Ventura asking for him to send me an augraphed baseball card...17 years later, I'm still waiting."
First, I used Google maps to realize that the return address was a fake. SHOCKER! Plus, the baseball card sent to me was from 1995. Robin Ventura retired from baseball in 2004. This is all I needed to start a list of the usual suspects. I had to get to the bottom of this because someone very crafty was crafty enough to use their craftyness to postmark the letter from Stamford, CT. CRAFTY!
Since, none of my friends of family are smart...or crafty, I was forced to look somewhere else. Only a true master...nay...senior artist could put together something so flawless and beautiful. I am not here to name names...but it rhymes with Schmathan Schmellis. Great hoax, I tip my cap to you, good sir!"
Friends. Beer. Hilarious outfits. Slip-n-slide. Sloshball 2 is about here and I am anticipating being drunker than a rent-a-clown at a child's birthday party. It has all the dignity of a pornography awards show but with way more cock.
The first sloshball event went off without a hitch. My team lost...of course. I blame it on my buddy John, who kept yelling at me to quit screwing around. Thats right, he's telling me, someone who is wearing shorts big enough to fit my 6-year old nephew to quit screwing around.
Yeah, thats hott. I'm leggy. The night ended in success. This time around...we are going with a "Mad Men" theme...only gayer. We're talking 3-piece suits cut in such a homosexual manner that Andy Dick would blush.
Its about to be on!! Enjoy the video below of our inaugural sloshball event in early June. I came home with a sunburn, hangover, and some of the best rejection stories ever. I can't wait for round 2...my parents should be around to see this travesty take place. Its cool though, I didn't want an inheritance in the first place.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1J5R3ByKKEg
...for now at least. Brad Gattis is 1 month from officially being off the market. I just heard hearts break all throughout Central Kansas. Both men and women. To celebrate/mourn this inevitability, Bradley's best men decided it was best to celebrate with a bachelor party. Without giving our true identities away, in case TMZ is reading this, I'll protect our rights with Googled photos. You're welcome, wedding party! Without further teasing, I give you the Groom, his best men and the groomsmen...
I wish panoramic view was available
Our weekend started out very regular. We told ourselves that Friday night we were going to take it easy and get some sleep because Saturday was the big day. Well around 3:30 a.m, I realized that that was a good idea at the time but BAR was calling our name. We were partying with celebrities that night anyways...
Mick loves him some Mick...
Saturday finally comes around. Let the drinking begin...wait...resume. After several hundred games of water Vball, the real event began. The Gattis/Hein Best Man Triathlon Competition Contest. The name needs work. Long story short...I WIN. "What's the name of that game?" someone asks. I say, "I WIN." Three events. I WIN. Punt/Pass/Kick. Diving contest. Water Horse. It went to the third event and I clinched it with a left handed layup off the backboard while standing on the right side. The wingspan worked out for me! After about 15 hours of drinking, our lovely bachelor had had enough! Ever seen a 6'4" 210 lb. guy in the fetal position?
...now you have!
Since the "bache" party was on Saturday of Labor Day weekend, that meant we had 2 days to recooperate. However we didn't...Red Balloon loved the wedding party!!
Believe it or not...we got a standing ovation!!!
I woke up this morning the same way I always do. Assault on the alarm. Lights on. Fan off. Shower time. Directly after my vertical soak I turn on Mike & Mike in the Morning on ESPN2. The scrolling ESPN bottomline shows that the US Softball team is down 2-1 in the 6th inning to Japan. Japan is the Wayne Brady to the United States' Denzel Washington! However I let it go because I "ASSumed" the US would eventually win some way, somehow. The next three words I plan on typing is a phrase I utter entirely too much. "I was wrong." At my own amazement the undefeated US softball team choked on their previous three gold medals and did the unthinkable. Where do we go from here? The IOC is cancelling baseball and softball for future Olympics, yet Trampoline a legitimate "sport." Is this really how the greatest softball team in the world wanted to end it? I think so!There is method to their madness. That's right, I'm officially opening up the conspiracy hot line and I'm taking calls all night. Give me a jingle on the jangle. Call the old number, it'll give you a new one! I digress. Prior to the gold medal game against Japan, the US had given up 1 run. IS THIS THING ON? 1 RUN!!! The odds on them giving up 3 more in a matter 7 innings is pretty low and the Vegas bookies have Scotty as a heavy favorite. Here's my belief. They threw the game.Look at it this way...what do the women have to gain if they trounce Japan in a 11-0 rout? "How about a 4th gold medal, Potty." Granted, but they've done that before. They haven't lost since...well, ever. Softball has only been recognized as an Olympic sport since 1996 and so the winning streak begins. Basically the IOC is cancelling softball due to the dominance of the US national team. Basically the IOC is blaming the US due to the lack of parody within international softball. Basically the IOC forgets that it is the other countries responsibility to evolve their athletes into actual world-class athletes. I think that the US loss to Japan is GENIUS! Yes, I believe the US orchestrated this loss in order to show parody and a competitive bar being raised. Without this, the appeal brought to the IOC would leave the US to blame. Just standing their with their shoulders shrugged and 4 gold medals dangling around their necks. Now reinstating the softball games for London '12 will seriously be considered.I know, I know...I'm forgetting about baseball in this argument. However, they don't apply to this due to the fact that they aren't as dominant and aren't even legit professionals. Basically Jenny Finch is Derek Jeter and anybody that you can name on the US national baseball team is Crash Davis. Softball = Professionals. Baseball = Amateurs. The International Olympic Committee (IOC was getting redundant) has professed their undying love for "stars" and "icons." Hence the reason for USA basketball switching from college players to the NBA's finest. This has gone on too long. If you only read this paragraph, it will make a long blog short. Softball, too dominant. IOC, competition Nazis. Softball loss, genius. Softball vs. Baseball, two different things. 2012 Olympics - London, softball wins gold. Wink, wink. I just hope they don't cancel trampoline. Then I'll really have something to say!
Believe it or not, I have never blogged. I haven't written anything that could be viewed by others since I was a freshman at Cowley County Community College. The last time I used a QWERTY application to express myself was when I texted my life story to John William White (My BFF x 4) (I have a lot of BFFs.) Notice that I placed the period inside of the parenthesis because I passed COMP 1...barely. This is new to me but not new to my family. My brother blogs weekly about sports, but yet that's through his job and then some. If I'm gonna try and "keep up" with Mick, that means I have to have find a different angle."Great observation, Scott" is what people will say.So while my brother has sports cornered, I'll do something else. How about current events? Current Events huh? That category is the only reason I was on the Scholars Bowl team in junior high and high school. I was that guy that couldn't/shouldn't/didn't know anything else than what was happening at that point in time. Super Bowl? I got the answer! Oscar for Best Actor? I got the answer! Fermat's Last Theorem? Well, not so much. BUT! The team had people for that, thankfully! We won the league tournament my 8th grade year. Nothing gets the ladies like a shiny SCBL Scholars Bowl medal. Caldwell girls are classy like that. Starting quarterbacks? Guys with motorcycles? Cliche. Scholars bowl will get you a lot of things. Respect, pride and sense of worth aren't any of those things but atleast I wasn't the kid answering the math questions. He was a dork.
...he could find a day laborer at Home Depot to mow his lawn for him.
