"Stanley, you're nothing but a fucking cheater!"

After spending an hour and a half schooling eighth graders in basketball, I stepped into quite the intense locker room. Two men were yelling at each other from opposite sides of the room, separated by five rows of lockers.

"Franco, you owe me $50. And if you don't pay, I'm going to kick your fucking ass!"

Apparently they had a fierce racquetball match.

"I ain't paying you shit Stanley. You damn Pollack."

Then another disembowelled voice chimed in - "Kick his ass Stanley. That guy thinks he's the greatest thing since bottled beer."

There was more yelling, and Stanley and Franco approached each other near the entrance to the locker room.

These two guys were each in their late 50's/early 60's. Stanley was naked, Franco in a towel.

More screaming, more racial slurs, more half naked geezers near the locker room entrance.

Then Stanley threw a punch.

And all of a sudden it was a re-enactment of the fight scene in School Ties. I wondered if Franco and Stanley were the people upon whom the characters Matt Damon and Breden Fraser played were based.

I took five steps back and watched, as the other naked old men pulled Franco off Stanley.

Flying fists, flying scrotums - it's no wonder the Village People sang about this place, the YMCA.

~

Looking for a new gym this weekend.

Last week, young Michael Patrick had his two month checkup. Unfortunately I was out of the country and unable to attend. I was saddened not just because I wanted to be there for my son, but also because the pediatrician is fiiiiine. His first two appointments, I didn't think that my son appreciated being baby-handled by such a good looking woman.

Or did he?

My wife informed me that the doctor checked his temperature and eyes, then stripped him down. And my grinning boy had a boner.

So this picture's for you, Dr B. Merry Christmas!

Gotdamm this was hilarious!

I haven't posted a pic of him in a while:

At the hotel gym in Switzerland today, I saw three very attractive women walking around with towels around their wet bodies. I was very intrigued, until I saw that they were carrying their underwear in their hands. At that point, I was very aroused. I walked over to the hallway from which they entered the gym, and saw that it was for the sauna. A co-ed, nekid sauna. Sweet jebus. I'm going to time tomorrow's workout for the same slot as today. However, to improve international relations, I'm going to make sure that I'm armed with chub. No more than chub, as I'm not a pervert. Oh, and I'm buying a waterproof case for my digital camera. OK, maybe I am a pervert. More on this tomorrow. Hopefully.

In any case, I sit here in my hotel room. There are a few spanktervision options.
1. Lois and Clark reruns from back when Teri Hatcher was hot hot hot. But it's hard not to picture her now, begging to be fed a White Castle slider or two.
2. Desperate Housewives from three years ago. In German. There's bound to be a scene with Eva Longoria in panties. I hope.
3. Ghost. That scene with the pottery is so damn gay. But it might be better than my final two options.
4. Hotel room porno. It's all in German, and I risk needing the assistance of a Forest Ranger. But it's only 14 Swiss Francs for 24 hours.
5. Rerun of Maude in German.

And remember, death is not an option. First person to guess what approach I took gets a copy of this month's United Airlines Hemispheres with a partially completed crossword puzzle.

Oh, and by the way. I hate all you fuckers who went to Vegas. Especially those of you who called me. Bitch-asses. Gotdamm I wish I coulda made the trip.

Oh shit. Now we have entry number 6 - Dancing in the Stars Europe.

Put the lotion in the basket!

1. I'm going to Vegas in January for my brother's bachelor party. The AVN is at the same time. Holy shit.

2. HORSE cash games at FTP. Juicy.

Last weekend in Germany I had a great time with a friend I've seen no more than once every two years. Yet every time we get together, it's as if we were still in college, living eighty feet apart. On Saturday we busted out some of the old inside jokes, made eerily similar inappropriate comments about the natives, and enjoyed the same (kind of) witty drunken banter as ten plus years ago. It felt as natural as Stockton and Malone running the pick and roll. I bet even two decades from now, they could run that to perfection without even fifteen minutes of practice. I'd like to think that well into our fifties, my friend and I could do the same.

I'm jealous of those of you who are going to Vegas this weekend. Enjoy yourselves. I'll be in Switzerland, waiting for international dial-a-shots, jealous of all the gambling and debauchery, and knowing that you guys will be setting each other up with lob passes all weekend.