Detroit

In My Brain While Sleeping… Housecleaning Pucks And Hamburger Docs

Posted on by sgottahurt

I had to verify what my subconscious created in this doozy of a dream, because in another one, my subconscious got it completely all wrong.  It works in the second dream because it makes it kinda funny.  But the fact that I knew a certain fact in the first one so matter-of-, um, -factly kinda impresses me (humility is soooo overrated).

DREAM SCENARIO ONE

I was playing hockey.  It wasn’t a professional game, but professionals were there.  (This entire dream happened out of guilt for skipping pick-up hockey last night.  In my defense, two friends were not going… I just hope they had enough people… curse you guilt!)  Anyhattrick, one of the pros approached me at the end and said, “I heard your house could use a good spring cleaning.”  I told him, “Yeah, it could,” and then wondered who he’d been talking to.  That’s when he dropped this deal, “I’d do it.  For five bucks.”  How could I resist?  So I handed him five bucks and made arrangements, not even thinking he could be scamming me for five bucks.  And he showed up!  To clean!  The player in question:

"Pretend the puck is dust, and the stick is a broom... that's how I'm gonna sweep, eh."

"Pretend the puck is dust, and the stick is a broom... that's how I'm gonna sweep, eh."

Martin Brodeur, goalkeeper for the New Jersey Devils.  I didn’t know I knew him, or his position, or that he was Canadian, yet my subconscious did (I’m not 100% on whether I knew he was a Devil, but I want to say he was wearing their color scheme).  In double-checking my brain, some tidbits I learned about him:

  • He’s played for the New Jersey Devils his entire NHL career. (I like franchise guys, and the NHL is full of them.)
  • He’s three shutouts short of breaking Detroit Red Wing Terry Sawchuck’s record of 103 games. (FYI – Sawchuck’s mask was the basis for Jason’s mask in Friday the 13th.)
  • He holds the second place record (behind Patrick Roy) for the most wins, which he’ll inevitably pass provided he stays healthy.
  • He holds the record for the most wins in a regular season (48, in 2006-7).
  • He’s the only NHL goalie to score a game winning goal.

There are many more.  And I might have to add that I could be a fan now.  What?  Don’t look at me like that.  I’m not saying I like him better than my beloved Red Wings… well, maybe Chris Osgood if he doesn’t start picking up.

DREAM SCENARIO TWO

I was eating at a McDonald’s (like I often do?) when a commotion started at the register.  The friends with me initially ignored it, but when the buzz of excitement started spreading, people were rushing to the front counter.  I overheard a girl say, “The stars of Top Gun are here doing a promotion!”  So the group I was with got mixed up in the glee and followed.  I distinctly remember not even thinking Tom Cruise would be there.  I knew it would be Iceman (Val Kilmer) and Goose (Anthony Edwards).  Turned out the rumors were wrong.  Instead of getting this duo:

I could have cropped out the beer, but I enjoyed the beer being there. Existentialism for today.

I could have cropped out the beer, but I enjoyed the beer being there. Existentialism for today.

I got this duo:

Dr. Ross and Dr. Green inda house! (But not on "House.")

Dr. Ross and Dr. Green inda house! (But not on "House.")

 Except they looked like this:

Uh... yeah...

Uh... yeah...

 Of course, everyone was excited to see George Clooney, and under normal circumstances I would have been, too.  But Anthony Edwards?  How often is he out in public?  This was my chance to pitch a script in which he would have the starring role.  The script entitled “Continuum” was based on a dream I once had that featured Anthony Edwards (how meta).  I told it to him while Clooney took orders from dining room patrons, but I figured he was listening to our conversation and would possibly produce/direct the film.  The only catch – the script wasn’t written.  Edwards would be in town for two more days, so I’d have to write it in that time.  That’s when Clooney chimed in, “It could be the greatest script of all time… or the crappiest.”  (I knew he was eavesdropping!)

And that was that.  To sum up: Martin Brodeur cleaned my house for five bucks, and I had two days to write a script for Anthony Edwards to star in.  I have no idea what any of that means.

JusWondering… Some “Detroit Saving” Alternatives To Jay Leno

Posted on by sgottahurt

Jay Leno is coming to Detroit as a part of his comedy stimulus plan, and even though city council person, Martha Reeves(of Martha and the Vandellas), doesn’t like the fact that he’s coming to the Palace of Auburn Hills, I have some alternatives to his idea.

1) This.  Parade.  Rocks.  It’s exactly the kind of pick-me-up the ailing city of Detroit could use.  Do you hear that ninjas?  Come to Detroit!

2) If that doesn’t happen, then we could always use a Carl’s Brother Dave Jr. restaurant.  We just started getting Sonic restaurants here, and it’s been bowlofmilkriffic!

3) I never thought I’d ever be saying this, but bring the comedic stylings of Ricky Gervais and Elmo to Detroit!  They are a genius duo unmatched by any!

In My Brain While Sleeping… Friday The 13th Reboot (My Version)

Posted on by sgottahurt

Hello.  Sean here.  (So am I.)

Oh yeah, that’s my brain.  Say hi.  (Hi.)

In the midst of my many snoozes, it occurred to me that the new Friday the 13th remake isn’t sticking to its source material.  (How’s that?) 

In the original film, Jason Voorhees was not the killer.  His mother was.  (Should you have put a spoiler alert?  Someone may not have wanted to know this.)  She avenged his alleged drowning while in the hands of irresponsible, sex-crazed teens.  Starting withthe second film, he avenged the death of his mother.  In the third film, he starts wearing the hockey goalie mask (it’s based on one from the 50’s Detroit Red Wings).

If this film is a sequel, it’s ignoring the last few films in the series, whereas if it’s a remake, it’s ignoring the first film.  If it’s a reboot, then how does Jason come to be?  Well my dreams may have found the answer.

He's such a cut up.

He's such a cut up.

  • The first dream between snoozes involved a golf cart on a log raft that tipped over and sunk into Crystal Lake.
  • The second dream involved a girl crossing the lake with a boy, and then boy jumped out and swam to shore.  More ridiculous versions of this continued until my conscious (and subconscious) met…
  • (NOTE: I was going to reference as many versions of the dream as there were sequels, but quite frankly, they were pretty repetitive… just like the films!)
  • In the final dream that woke me up, Jason Voorhees came to be like this:

On one side of Crystal Lake was a fat camp, and on the other side was a sports camp.  A chubbier girl would meet with one of the guys and they would get it on in the sports camp.  The guy was a real dick and he’d laugh to all his friends about how she keeps coming back for more.  Through the summer, she loses no weight, and in fact puts on more… because she’s pregnant.  When she reveals this to the boy, he breaks up with her.  All his friends sabotage her boat while they argue.  She asks him for a keepsake and he gives her one.  At the center of Crystal Lake, her boat becomes waterlogged.  As she sinks, welcoming her death, she clings to her keepsake – the boy’s goalie mask.  Jason is the supernatural son she never had (?) and he seeks revenge against anyone who visits his lake, while wearing his daddy’s face mask.  The end.  (Or is it the beginning?)

Tah dah!  (Tah dah!)

What a weird dream, btw.  (Any time!)

JusWondering… What Yesterday Wrought

Posted on by sgottahurt

Believe me when I say I was going to bore you with the details of my yesterday in comparison with what I expected it to be two days ago.  You know that whole random winter Tuesday/Wednesday gag.  So instead, I’m only going to bore you with highlights.

I’ll just note that things weren’t too far off from what I predicted as well as not at all the same!

  • I started moving at 6:01 am (alarm clock time), which means I ignored one whole minute.  Not a good start.
  • I ended up having a morning that was beyond snooze happy, and had to cut out some of the morning essentials.  I still ate a Pop Tart with  organic milk (Brown Sugar Cinnamon won).
  • On the road, the only construction I ran into was right by my house.  I did get sleepy around Bowling Green, so I stopped at Meijer for a candy bar.  (It was a Milky Way bar, since they were out of Reese’s Fast Breaks… I fear this treat’s days are numbered.)
  • I quickly gave up the notion of seeing a Denny’s for my free breakfast.  I thought they might not exist in Ohio.  I did end up getting a free lunch, though (the company’s VP bought me a bar burger from the joint next door).
  • Things were going well.  I only had to run two network cable lines.  There was a slight struggle getting the router and the modem to communicate, but overall, it looked like I was leaving early…
  • The Snag.  I knew in my gut that there was going to be one, but I figured it would have to do with the wiring or a pc issue.  Better yet.  The router I went down to Findlay to install was to unite the offices so their printers would work better.  This was the reason for the visit.  The router I had no longer came with this feature included.  In fact, it could no longer even be purchased as an add-on.  This meant I had to find a VPN router replacement stat.  Unfortunately, the closest store to carry it was in Toledo.  Here’s some maps:
Between office and store.

Between office and store.

 

Between office and home.
Between office and home.

 

  •  Bonus Potential Snag.  The key given to me to get back in since the workers would be gone was the wrong key.  Luckily someone was still there.  Whew!
  • While I was waiting for printer files to install, I did get to work on a post for Old Men at the Bar.  The computer seized up on me, and I feared all was lost!  Only a little was lost.
  • I finally got back on the road home about 7 pm.  It was three hours later than I anticipated.  On my way back I stopped in Bowling Green to get gas and a Mt. Dew from Meijer.  The Dew tasted like it was mixed with some paint thinner, or something, but I was thirsty. 
  • As I neared the Ohio/Michigan border, I saw a billboard for an upcoming Denny’s.  In Toledo.

Sober Recollection… Going, Gothic, Gone!

Posted on by sgottahurt

Last night I went out for my friend, Jenny’s, 30th birthday.  We went to a goth industrial night club in Detroit called the (Leland) City Club:
Like Blade rave minus vampires and blood shower, I think

Like the rave in "Blade" minus vampires and blood shower, I think

We arrived late by my standards (courtesy of the snow and collected company), but it’s primarily an afterhours spot, so to the regulars, we were probably early.  Since it was midnight, I could have either pounded as many bottles as possible, or keep my mind clear for people watching.  Speaking of clear…

  • Upon arrival, I thought “I’ll keep my mind clear,” and I saw a dude in a clear shirt.  Then a grand woman passed by that put the BOOST in bustier, and I thought, “Biiiig.”  Then a woman no taller than 4′ followed her, and I thought, “Smaaaall.”
  • On the telly above the bar, this scene from “Superbad” was playing.  Notice the wound on McLovin’s cheek at the end… is it CGI?  It sure looks like it was digitally added, and I never noticed until last night:
  • A woman sat on a dude’s lap in the corner, straddling and facing him.  There was no movement, per sé, but I wondered if they were doing the deed.  I brought this up to another friend, Lisa, and she suspected the same.  It wasn’t until moments later that I saw them both smoking side-by-side that my suspicions were confirmed.
  • The electric chandelier above us had energy-efficient coiled black light bulbs:

Like this, but purple
Like this, but purple
  • There was a dude that looked like an elf, and a dude/dudette (?) that looked like an anime character, amongst many other things.  I pondered what percentage of people here partook in the Renaissance Festival (nice alliteration… at least the first part).  Since two people in our group of eleven had, it was fare to assume they weren’t alone.
  • I wasn’t surprised to find out that I knew some of the music (Ministry, Depeche Mode).  I was surprised to smell fabric softener coming off someone’s black hoodie with the anarchy logo on it:
Smells like Snuggle

Smells like Snuggle

  • I learned that my brain may be wired like that of a moth, as my eyes were wont to follow any bright light in the form of glow sticks, light up yoyos, and a shirt like this (the sound bars actually moved):
See the music, taste the light!

See the music, taste the light!

  • Finally, my nerdery outstepped itself by conjuring up reference to an obscure “Star Wars” character no one in my group knew, as there was a guy who looked exactly like this, save the green pigmentation… and his hair was in a bun:
"How do I get to Detroit? Is it on Hoth?"

"How do I get to this... Detroit? Is it on Hoth?"

(Sorry BillyGoatBluff, but it was another sober night.)

Uncle Sean’s Story Time… When Red Wings Attack At The Bar!

Posted on by sgottahurt

Gather ’round, gather ’round, kiddies… it’s time for another one of Uncle Sean’s drunk stories… this is a tale about how to go out with a bang… or not to, depending on how you look at it…

After moving back to Michigan from Los Angeles, I was out of work but willing.  Your Aunt Becky worked at a night club in Royal Oak that I had frequented prior to leaving and during my return visits home.  They needed someone to run the pair of dance floor servant stations (and by run, I mean run back and forth and get ice and replenish other supplies).  I was their man.  This story isn’t so much about my first day (which happened to be an *NSync concert before they blew up… see SIDENOTE at bottom of post).  It’s about my last day working there (well, my first last day… I went back a couple more times to help or when I needed money).

I had announced to all it was my last day, and everyone was sad to see me go.  One of the order loaders arranged it so that I would get a bottled water filled with vodka so I could make drinks for myself through the night.  And partake of it, I did.

The funny thing about drinking while working in a night club is that people tip better when you’re on the same playing field as them.  I would help out the bartenders from time to time when I was slow and they were swamped.  This night was no exception.

A patron came up and ordered a shot called Red Wings.  “What’s that?” I asked.

“Cranberry juice and Jaeger,” she responded.  She ordered three shots.  I asked if one was for me, and she said to make it four.

Did I ever tell you Jaeger is my death nail?  Each of the liquors have a varying result in my actions, but they are consistent.  Jaeger is the anomaly.  Jaeger answers the next morning’s question – “Why did I do that?”

The woman came up shortly after that, and ordered another round.  Coupled with the screwdrivers I’d been downing, this is the last thing I recall.

Later, your Uncle Jay (who also worked there) and Becky would recount to me what followed.  As the night winds down, it’s my job to count out what items were left, to dump the ice trays, and do general cleaning.  I don’t know what time I disappeared, but Jay took care of my bars as well as his.

After the place closed up, my manager had a brainstorming session with Jay and Becky that went something like this:

“Perhaps he got in a fight, and the bouncers didn’t recognize him, and they threw him out?”

Jay and Becky shook their heads.

“Well maybe he met a girl and ditched this place with her?”

A pair of negatives again.  “That’s not the type of person he is,” Becky explained.

Jay piped in, “Check all the toilets.  He’s hugging one of them.”

Surely I was.  Upstairs, in the employee stalls.  Becky knocked on my door.  I remember that her voice sounded like an angel.

I pulled myself together and made my back to the main floor.  It turned out there was a concert the next day, and we had to set up all the chairs.  That was my penance.  If only that was the type of person I was…

MORAL OF THE STORY: Red Wings Team = good.  Red Wings Shots = bad.  Unless by “Shots” you mean “Scoring Attempts” then = good, again.

(SIDENOTE: Justin Timberlake and crew came out dressed in spaced suits to the Imperial Death Marchfrom “Star Wars.”  Their costumes made them look like the guys in colored hazmat suits in those old Intel commercials.  Girls had to be pulled out of the crowd from passing out.  Insane!  Who passes out at a night club anyway… never mind.)

Picture this, only worse.

Picture this, only worse.

Drunken Recollection… That’s About Right For A Detroit Joint

Posted on by sgottahurt

Last night was a night spent in three four bars, and it kept me sleeping until 5pm today.

Some highlights:

  • First stop was the Bronx Bar, a Detroit hole-in-the-wall down near Wayne State University.  My sisters wanted to visit an old friend.  They chatted while “Poison” played on the jukebox.  BBD’s song, not the group.  “Crazy” also played.  Not Britney Spears… Patsy Cline.  That’s about right for a Detroit joint.
  • Second stop was the Magic Stick.  There was a concert going on upstairs, so we stayed on the main floor and saw a show of our own.  It probably made as much sense as the punk bands upstairs might, but here’s what it involved: a man with a big beard, a woman with only her bra on, a skinny kid with his shirt off, and another skinny girl holding her bloody nose.  They came out of the bowling area and swept through the place until security escorted them out.  They actually tried to come back later.  We met up with my cousin Liz who was there to see the show on the second floor.  Some of my sisters’ friends that are getting married next year dropped in (congrats again Beth and Ben), and another of Tammie’s friends from grade school was hanging out with his friends (hey P-funk).  A stranger drew pictures of us in green crayon on the back of concert flyers.  My sister, Tammie, ordered some pizza.  I quizzed her on the latest Killers song that was playing.  Becky and I drank 24 oz. beers.  We wondered why the word dapper isn’t used more.  That’s about right for a Detroit joint.
  • Third stop lead us into Greektown, across from the casino, to The Well.  Tammie’s other old friend, Joe, was down there with his crew.  Some girls were dancing on the bar.  The DJ was right behind us playing T.I.  The area we were in was about 12’x12′.  They flashed the lights at about 1:45am for last call.  We all finished our drinks and headed next door to…
  • The Baltimore, our final stop.  We ran into a family member we haven’t seen for years.  Tears were spilled over some more beers.  Becky took forever putting all our numbers in our cousin’s phone.  The music playing was Journey or some other 80’s band.  A half hour or so later, we all departed into the winter rain.  We bid our farewells and journeyed home.  That’s about right for a Detroit joint.

Legion Of Seans… Sean (Avery) Gone Wrong

Posted on by sgottahurt

As a founding member of the Legion of Seans (along with Mr. Penn, Mr. Connery, Ms. Young, and Mr. Combs), I’m very displeased with Mr. Avery’s recent comments regarding Canadian hottie, Elisha Cuthbert.

From WWTDD (via Yahoo):

Reporters were waiting to speak with Avery about disparaging remarks he’d made last month about Flames star Jarome Iginla when Avery walked over to the group and asked if there was a camera present. When told there was, he said, “I’m just going to say one thing.”
“I’m really happy to be back in Calgary; I love Canada,” he said. “I just want to comment on how it’s become like a common thing in the NHL for guys to fall in love with my sloppy seconds. I don’t know what that’s about, but enjoy the game tonight.” He then walked out of the locker room.

Sean Avery used to be a Detroit Red Wing.  When he was traded to the L.A. Kings, he dated Cuthbert and Rod Stewart’s ex-wife, Rachel Hunter.  Now that he’s in Dallas with the Stars, he’s probably fearful Jessica Simpson might have her sights set on him.  Regardless of the situation, the Legion of Seans have released this statement on the matter:

Sean Avery’s ex-girlfriends cannot be referred to as sloppy seconds, due to the fact that Avery is a giant douche. 

In closing, a final message from the Legion of Seans to one Mr. Carter: until you change the spelling of your first name to the correct Irish way, you will not be granted entrance.  Good day!

elisha-cuthbert

Drunken Recollection… Things Learned Over Thanksgiving Weekend

Posted on by sgottahurt

Thanksgiving weekend has come and gone, as has all the turkey (et. al.) through me.  With this in mind, I shall impart onto you the various things that I learned over the past four days.

1) There is something called The Amazing Plant Lamp.  As the website proclaims:

The only lamp of its kind where you quickly touch the live plant to turn it on and off or hold a leaf and it works as a dimmer.

Ain’t that the bees knees!  Just stick the Amazing Plant Lamp kit in any plant and voila!

2) Raisins are forcibly put into too many things, like cinnamon bread and puddings.  I usually don’t eat any of these foods anyway, but I can relate because of how common it is for bakers to put nuts in fudge brownies (that could be taken out of context)!  Enough!  I want choices!

(SIDE NOTE: I used to like Fig Newtons as a kid because I thought it was some kind of weird tasting chocolate.  Then I learned and thus hated them.)

3) Chocotinis have zero alcohol content, despite what anyone else might claim.  My sister was pulled over for having non-working turn signals.  She was nervous and forgot her alphabet.  The cop made her do the random balance tests and the such, then he gave her a Breathalyzer test.  She blew zero.  Case closed!

4) You can break the bottom off a beer bottle with water and a hand slap.  Basically, take an empty bottle (in this case, it was Coors Light), fill it halfway with water, hold the neck in one hand, and slam the palm of your other hand on the bottle’s mouth.  The bottom drops out from the instant air pressure, I guess.  Apparently, beer has more shock absorption.

5) My cousin Steve might be a diabolical genius.  In discussing the biggest insults one man could make against another (backhanding was #3… spitting in face was #2… we didn’t go beyond what’s to follow), he declared the greatest coup, the most humiliating attack, the most degrading defeat, the biggest insult to be ever perpetrated in the world would be this – to tickle a man in front of his family.  Right in front of his wife, his children, and his dog.  Tickled to the point of tears and uncontrollable laughter.  It’s guaranteed that after the giggles were through, he’d pack up his things and walk out the door, not saying a word, not making any eye contact, swearing to himself to never return again, and all this would be understood.  Out of humiliation he’d still support the family, though thousands of miles away.  And his family could become your family.

6) As a kid, I watched WXYZ Channel 7 way more than I realized, because they had a special on about their past 60 years, and I got choked up.  Stupid nostalgia…

7) I would put that the Detroit Lions suck, but I already knew that.

JusWondering… Lions Need To Draft Cheerleaders

Posted on by sgottahurt

Another weekend has come and gone.  That means the Detroit Lions can add one more to the number on the right, notching them up to 0-11.  The road ahead looks bleak, but if the New England ButtPats can go for 16 and 0, then so can we!

But I have a theory.  It’s not full-proof, but neither is the theory of relativity… particularly when my Uncle Stan drinks full-proof whiskey on Thanksgiving.  Seriously, is he even related to me?!

Anyhooperthedetroitpistonsmascot, when the Lions use the draft picks received from the Roy Williams trade to Dallas, and the inevitable *crosses finger* first round pick from the undefeated season, I say we use them on a cheerleader squad.  At this point, I say we try anything.

First off, it will get the fans back in the seats so there are no more game day black-outs.  (Us guys are stupid this way.)  That way, it won’t matter if we win or lose.  A simulation:

One friend to another – “Ahhh, not another interception!”
Friend in return – “Hey, check out that hot POA!” 

Smiles on everyone’s face!

Second off, look what adding the Automotion to Detroit Pistons games did for them… six Conference Appearances, two Conference Titles, one Championship.  Coincidence?  (I pronounced it co-inside-ence? to be funny in my head.  Try it.)

Third off (bra-level… yay!), every other team but two has cheerleaders!  (I pronounced it teambuttwo… y’know, real fast in my head, so it sounded like Timbuktu.  For no reason.)

It’s not that every team that has cheerleaders does well, or vice versa.  (Cleveland had a good run in the late 80’s and the New York rammed the ButtPats in last years Super Bowl – and they don’t have cheerleaders.  Is it because they’d be the Brown Girls or the Giant Girls?  You be the judge.)

In closing, some suggestions for the Lions Cheerleaders name, besides simply that or the Lionesses:

  • The Lions Down
  • The Always Lions
  • The Assembly Lions
  • The Lions Around Unemployed
  • The Running Game
  • The Lost Hope… or The Last Hope
  • The Pipe Dreams
  • The Who Cars Anymore?
I like Angela, Pamela, Sandra and Rita, and as I continue you know they're getting sweeter

I like Angela, Pamela, Sandra and Rita, and as I continue you know they're getting sweeter