Die Hard Drive 2: Crash Harder

I have spent the last few days dealing off and on with the hard drive failure on my PC. Thus explaining the lack of posting. Conveniently, I had purchased a new hard drive to convert into an external storage unit, but it came in handy when my Dell's hard drive began squeeking and sounded a lot like Aimee Mann. So I swapped them out and have been trying to salvage anything I can off the old one. The post was inspired by what I came across in my tranferring adventure.

As you can see, I found a nice little photoshop image I made back in college. Technically its not a "Photoshop" image because I did it on Paint way back when. This picture shows one of the early basketball teams for Natty Sci. I'm almost exaggerating our musculature by using He-Man figures, but not by much. Needless to say, I laughed for quite a while when I found this, so I thought I would share it with the rest of the world.

The Wrath of the Twig

Who ever thought being lazy and drinking beer would have been beneficial? Midway through our softball game on Friday, I volunteered to throw with someone between innings to loosen their arm. After a wild throw, I had to go run off into the woods to find the ball. Out of no-where this twig grabs hold of my foot and rocks my ankle. Solid. I could've just sat on the bench and drank beer and waited my turn to bat, instead I'm hobbling around, even today. Mother nature, you sick woman!

In other news, the Greek Festival was this weekend and I went twice, Saturday and Sunday. You can never get enough beer and wine. Unless its Sunday, then you can't get any wine, which is ultra-lame.

Finally, I've been schooling myself in the computer sciences lately since my PC's hard drive has come down with a case of the squeeks. I had to install a new one and I'm still puzzled on what to do with the old one. There's a lot of valuable documents (porn) on that drive. For you zero readers out there, I may or may not let you know what I'll be doing.

Fourth of July is this weekend, but I have yet to decide on whether to head back to Louisville to attend Blow Up St. Matthews.

Summer: The Height of Just Too Muchery

Today is the first day of summer. So it works out nicely that my first real blog begins today. Several factors instigated this creation. One, I finished writing my manucript for the Journal of Immunology. Two, I'm not out slamming the bars on weeknights like the past. And finally, I love summer and figured everyone wanted to read my useless ramblings.

Softball season is in full swing, and the drama begins as it does every season about this time. We aren't exactly a powerhouse in the medical center league, so we always have a lousy record at this point. Usually this is the result of multiple slaughters, but we've held our own so far. I brought in a ringer last week to battle the giants. Apparently this disgruntled a few of the players whom had to sacrifice "quality" playing time. The Reds manager Dave Miley got fired today, and I can totally empathize with him. I've got to load the roster because of the exedous of players during mid-season, but that cuts everyone's playing time early on, probably instigating the desertion. Catch-22. I feel myself slowly drifting toward the "dark side" of recreational softball where you sacrifice the enjoyment and socializing for winning. Maybe I should start wearing a black full-face helmet to the games.

Enough of the whining. I promise to keep that to an absolute minimum for here on out. Hitting the gym again for the first time in 8 months is reminding me my muscles hate me. I like the gym in the summer because you don't have to wait 2 hours for the guy who takes 10 minute naps on the equipment between sets. On a side note, I personally confirmed James White isn't in the NBA Draft anymore since he was on campus talking to Huggins. I won't go off on a rant about UC basketball right now, but I'll certainly bring it up later.

Rob Zombie comes to Cincy on August 1st. Maybe I can round up some nutjobs for that one. Everyone enjoy the scortching week, I'll just reminisce about cruising around in the bulletproof Blazer without A/C.
 

Bulletproof Blazer

The good ole Bulletproof Blazer in all its craptacular glory