Max-stravaganza

Yeah. It's been a while since the last entry. At least I'm still managing to outperform David Delgado . My non-denominational Holiday break was composed of much celebration of a religious manner as well as my own personal church, the First Congregation of NetFlix. The tone was similar to one of those days when you were sick in Middle School. You had to wait until 3:30 when school got out to call a friend and get the homework assignment, and due to your illness you couldn't logically do anything physical. So you sat down on the couch with a glass of Sprite and watched tons of crappy daytime TV (read: The View, Katie Couric and whatever local morning news was on). Well, the years have gone by and that glass of Sprite has been replaced with Sierra Mist and crappy daytime TV (which, in fact, is still crappy and full of women that I can't stand *cough* Star Jones you will always be fat to me *cough*) is now composed of my NetFlix queue and episodes of Best Week Ever on...

Since my Niners are out of the playoffs yet again this season (despite the fact that they doubled last year's win total), it's that time of the year in which I jump onto the least favorable bandwagon. Why the least favorable as opposed to...the Patriots every year? Because unlike my friend Will Wagner (read: band WAGner), I like to root for the underdog. It makes the postseason that much more enjoyable. And like the elitist that I am, I can't cheer on the favorite. So who am I picking to win Super Bowl LV? None other than the New England Patriots. I know what you're thinking and allow me to answer your two questions: yes, I do wear stylish boxer shorts and b) this is NOT the same thing as picking the Pats last season. They have been proven to be fallible as their 10-6 record proves. If anything, this is a bold pick on my part since starting LT Todd Light is out for the season. Normally I would root against the "dynasty" since it takes attention away fro...

A new feature to this blog will be the annual award for "Outstanding achievement in his or his field without getting the proper respect from the public." A bit of a long award name, but I'll make a big enough trophy to fit every last character. Anyhoo... The first runner up for this pretigious award is none other than Mr. Stedman Graham. Why does Stedman seem familiar to you? Well, the man is an accomplished author, motivational speaker and he played collegiate basketball. He founded the non-profit organization "Athletes Against Drugs" and has published such books as "You Can Make It Happen Every Day" and "The Ultimate Guide to Sport Event Management & Marketing." He is an accomplished man and philanthropist. But this means nothing to the general public. If anyone knows Stedman, it's as Oprah's boyfriend . He is only known to the world as "that dude who's never going to marry her." He will forever be second to...

Wow. Long time no blog. Lots to catch up on. But let's start with the occasion at hand: This is my first post of the year of our lord 2006. I just got back from a little shindig and decided to blog. This can be looked at in two fashions: either pathetic on my part or lucky for you, the reader. Hopefully you will consider the latter. In honor of this new year, which I have unofficially dubbed "The best year ever," I have decided to list a few of my resolutions. So without further Apu... Things that I wish to accomplish this year by Max "The Yellow Dart" Davison 1. Read more. I always seem to put this on my list, and although I do succeed in turning more pages, I could always do so to a greater degree of intensity. 2. Stop using Bono/U2 so much in my jokes. If you've hung around me enough during the first semester, you've probably gotten sick of the constant "What would Bono think?" lines uttered from my mouth. I apologize and promise t...

You know what else really grinds my gears? I went to the post office to ship off the last load of Christmas whatnot. Priority mail had better be worth it. My total comes to $21.65. I pay with a twenty and a ten. Instead of simply getting back exactly change, the woman at the front desk stiffs me three bucks. I point out her statistical mistake and she stares at me as though I just ordered a salad in a steakhouse and says "No. The change is correct. Look!" So I look at my palm and in addition tot he 35 cents are three strange coins. Son of a bitch. She gave me Sacagawea dollars. Son of a bitch. I hate the US Postal Service! Seriously, folk. Who the fuck uses these golden atrocities? They look like quarters, but they're not. Vending machines get confused when you use them (thinking that they're quarters). And they're so damn rare that you can never bring yourself to spend them. When you do decide to use them at a store, the clerk will stare at you for ...

What do I love most about the holiday season? The gifts? The music? The Jesus? Scrooge and Marley? Vacation? Tickle-me-Elmo? The menorah? A Muppet Christmas Carol? The answer to all of the above question marks is: No. What I most revere about this sacred time is the beverage known to mortals as eggnog. It's cool. It tastes good. It has a twinge of flavor at the end that makes you remember what exactly you're drinking. When enjoying a cool glass of...water, let's say. You can easily slip out of consciousness, let your mind wander and forget that you're currently swallowing some h20. If you attempt to transcend this plane of being while a glass of eggnog is in your right hand, you are instantly brought back to earth by the thought of "DAMN! This is good!" Now, what bothers me about eggnog is the social taboo that it can only be consumed during the yule tide. Two words about that: BU and LLSHIT. I want to have a glass of eggnog with every meal f...

Does anyone else remember Chris Gaines? I was discussing an old episode of SNL with Marco and Ben Jr. when I discovered that Mr. Gaines is a forgotten relic of pop culture gone wrong. Allow me to elucidate the situation... Gaines was born in 1967 in Australia to a pair of Olympic swimmers. He dropped out of high school to form a band called Crush, which released a popular song called "My Love Tells Me So", being inspired by, not surprisingly, the work of Garth Brooks. After a band member died in a plane crash, Gaines was dormant for several years before releasing a solo album, Straight Jacket, which remained in the Billboard Top 40 for 82 weeks and won four Grammys. Gaines then was involved in a serious car accident and required numerous plastic surgeries over the next two years, before releasing two more solo albums and being declared "the new Prince". Since that day, what has become of Mr. Gaines? Some say that he is now a world champion curler for the Swiss nati...

Apologies to everyone who's been bitching about me not updating my blog. Maybe this is indicative of how militant people without blogs are....until they decide to start one and get understandably lazy. Let me put it this way: the grass is not as easy to mow on the other side of the fence. And that was too awful of a metaphor for me to use. Moving on.... Recently, the New York Mets offered a two year deal to this man: Julio Franco I know what you're thinking. "Max, I really don't care about baseball to begin with. Why should a two year contract even interest me? By the way, Max, you're incredibly good looking and your bench press is SOOOOO impressive." Why should this deal excite you? Mr. Julio Franco, who has played first base for the Atlanta Braves over the past 5 seasons, is currently 47 years old. Yes. 47. As in the number after 46. When he fulfills his contractual obligations, he will be a 49 year old professional baseball player. Let me put it to you thi...

So, I've decided to take a break from my James Joyce paper to talk about my candidate for President in 2008. He is a man of convictions. A man with a stellar record of military service. A man who knows how to get things done. A man who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty in order to set the world straight. A man who also has a talk show on FoxNews and frequents the Sean Hannity radio program. Col. Oliver North Argue with me if you dare. You'll lose. Do you want a strong leader like Colonel North or Hillary? That's right. I'm glad you see it my way. With that being said, I'll go back to my boy Stephen Dedalus. SERENITY NOW!!!!!

Why do I hate this queer little man? an essay by Max Davison Clay Aiken. Both his first and last names sort of rhyme with "gay." He deservedly lost to Mr. Ruben Studdard during season 2 of Idol. His song 'Invisible' is sadly one of the most played on my iPod. It is so damn catchy! It's the greatest ode to borderline stalking since Rick Springfield's 'Jesse's Girl.' But that's not saying that Clay is even close to the level of godliness that Rick possesses. He sings to overweight minority women in his music videos. And for some reason, women love him. These are reasons enough to dislike the man. But I use the word 'hate' in the title to this piece. Why the hatred? Why the increased degree of intensity in my disapproval? Consider the following lyrics from his (only) hit single, 'Invisible.' If I was invisible Then I could just watch you in your room If I was invincible I'd make you mine tonight Do you not...

Frosty the Snowman Knew the sun was hot that day So he said let's run And we'll have some fun Now before I melt away Frosty the Snowman Had to hurry on his way But he waved goodbye Saying don't you cry I'll be back again some day Did anyone give any thought to the possibility that Frosty the Snowman represents the story of Jesus? He came around Christmas time, showing the children the way to live life properly. How to enjoy themselves while attempting to "catch him." He is destined to melt/die for your sins. Only at the end, he offers a message of hope. "I'll be back again some day." We have to sit and wait for the return of Frosty and the love that he brought. Sounds pretty biblical to me. Taking Jack Evert's advice, I have decided to write an exposition on this subject as well as my thoughts on how "Mary Had a Little Lamb" is about the Liberal conspiracy to keep religion out of public schools. And I use the word 'li...

Oh, Linda Ronstadt. You may be a dirty communist, but I love you. So this is how my Saturday night ends. This is how my formerly promising Saturday night ends: writing on my goddam blog while listening to Linda Ronstadt. I know that it's depressing, but allow me, for a moment, to vent about all the crap that really bothers me right now: Barry Zito is going to be traded. Lonely. Finals Week. Phonenite tomorrow. Going to dances with the mentality of "I don't need alcohol to have a good time" only to realize that you're only lieing to yourself. Alone. Yeah, when you write it down, it doesn't look like much. But it sure feels like it. A man once said "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you'll find you get what you need." Yeah, Mick Jagger was full of bullshit. Hopefully I'll be more jovial by the next time you see me. I've had bad dreams too many times To think that they don't mean much anymore And ...

Before I get on to my humorous musings for the night, I apologize to ALL of my readers for failing to post over the last week or so. At least I didn't go for a whole month like a certain Miami resident who happens to reside 6 doors down the hall from me....who will remain nameless. Anyhoo, the most important thing that happened this Thanksgiving is that Christmas began. Yes, the saving joy of Christmas doesn't lie in that whole "Jesus" legend. Rather it can be found in the amazing demeanor brought about by Christmas music. Similar to Bob Marley, it is impossible to be sad when listening to X-mas music...even Blue Christmas or 'Do They Know It's Christmas.' Thank you, Bono. Thanks to you, we are able to tap our toes to an uplifting song about AIDS and poverty in Africa. So, allow me to offer you my Christmas mix for this, the year of our lord 2005: Silver Bells - Steve Martin (if you can find it on Limewire/myTunes, GET IT) Santa Claus is Coming to T...

Octopus's Garden is slowly becoming my favorite Beatles song. Normally, an elitist bastard such as myself would choose a song by George Harrison to admire. And all of the ignorant fans in the world only know Paul and John. For some reason all of my favorites are sung by Mr. Richard Starkey, aka Ringo Starr. Yellow Submarine. With a little help from my friends. People always give him credit for being "the luckiest man alive," but he doesn't get half the respect that he deserves for his singing/songwriting ability. But seeing as last night I put my heterosexuality in doubt (shut up, Mario), I think that tonight I'll blog about something unmistakable masculine. Jack Bauer For those of you who either live under a rock or hate America, Jack Bauer is the single greatest government agent to ever life. No offense to Jack Ryan, but Mr...

Tonight I'm going to follow up on Mr. Evert's recent blog entry about Ross Kemp getting beat up by his wife. The "I got destroyed by my wife club" is a very exclusive society. More exclusive than the Claremont chapter of "I lost my virginity to a lesbian" (sorry, Aaron). That is why I'm going to devote this excursion into bloggerdom to the former pitcher for the Anaheim Angels and St. Louis Cardinals, Chuck Finley. Chuck Finley, over his 17 year career in the majors, put up respectable numbers. Lifetime 200-173 pitcher with an ERA of 3.85, coupled with 15 shut outs. In his prime, this is a solid #2 man in your rotation and a decent fantasy athlete. He also struck out four batters in an inning more than once. Chuck was paired with Mark Langston for a while in Anaheim (then California) and the two were decent teammates and led an perennially disappointing Angels team. Around this time, Tim Salmon broke into the league (1993) and won the AL ROTY award. But...

First of all, congratulations to Mr. David Delgado. After two weeks of constantly pestering him, he FINALLY caved in and updated his blog. Was it a good entry? Not necessarily. Was it an update? You bet your sweet bippy it was. Thanks to everyone who joined the "Update or Die" forces. We couldn't have done it without your support and prayers. The battle is over, my friends. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. Secondly, I'd like to give a very important shout out. I use this individual on an everyday basis, but he never gets the appreciation he deserves. He's another Hawkman or Count Chocula. No respect. I'm talking, of course, about the Ideal Gas Law. Can you imagine all of the pieces of information that you can derive from this formula? Pressure? Volume? NUMBER OF MOLES??!?! It's astounding. It boggles the mind how much the Ideal Gas Law tells you. However, what I appreciate the most about it is that it's IDEAL. It's not imperfect. The law, in theor...

Last night at dinner, a lively discussion arose about the top three presidents of all time. It's one of those debates that probably only happens on the CMC campus, y'know, with all of those Govt. majors who delusionally think that they're going to go into politics. Anyway, after this fine oratorical commentary, I decided to write a little bit about my own list of the TOP 5 PRESIDENTS OF ALL TIME. This may sound eerily close to the "Top 5" lists that John Cusack kept making in High Fidelity. Actually, that's pretty much what it is. I have seen the movie/read the book so often that I consider myself to be akin to that character. My life may end up being a rip-off of that movie/book. Which really, when you think about it, isn't that bad. Your life could be an homage to "St. Elmo's Fire." #1. Abe Lincoln Why is Honest Abe number one on this countdown?....or is a count up since I started with #1? Well, a lot of people would reference th...

Tonight, I'm going to write about a conundrum that has been haunting me lately. It's a little paradoxical, a little contradictory, but I hope that you'll understand. Now, let's start with the given facts: I, Max G. Davison, am a heat seeking, straight shooting, VERY heterosexual bachelor. I love the ladies like a fat kid loves candy. I love women like a lion loves mammal flesh. I love females like Carl Weathers loves stew (hopefully Arrested fans will pick up on that one). I enjoy slabs of undercooked red meat. John Wayne is a hero of mine. I vote Republican. Basically, anything that's straight is a-okay with me. So, seeing as I like women and all that... WHY DO I LISTEN TO ROBBIE WILLIAMS? Why do I listen to such an effeminate singer? Even as I sit here, writing this entry and affirmation of my heterosity, I've got 'Angels' playing on my iPod. It's music that is so undeniably feminine....but it's also pretty damn catchy. If you're...

I'd like to give a huge shout out to two very underutilized and underappreciated individuals of the world. There were many people who crossed my mind when I considered "underappreciated." The butler from The Fresh Prince. John Irving. Joe Randa. Myself. William McKinley. But I finally decided on the two individuals who would most benefit from being mentioned on my blog. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm talking about none other than Hawkman and Count Chocula. Hawkman When people think about the Justice League, Carter Hall, aka "the winged wonder," is oftentimes forgotten. I could ramble on for a while about his history and continuity in DC comics, but I'll spare you. Rather, I'll just say that he has wings, carries a mace and has a hairy chest that just screams "VIRILE." Many children grow up wanting to be Superman or Batman or Wonder Woman or (god forbid) Iron Man. Hawkman never gets any respect. When was the last time you were really ...

It's currently day three of my blogging adventure, and David Delgado has still not accepted my challenge to get off of his lazy ass and start writing. This is why a hunger strike may be necessary. If Mr. Delgado does not cave in and post a new entry by the end of this week, then on November 14th, I, Max Davison, will officially pull a Ghandi and abstain from eating for as long as it takes. Homer Simpson also utilized this tactic when the Springfield Isotopes were planning on moving to Albuquerque. It worked then, and it will work now if necessary. Onto the blogging... I had a rather pleasant dinner at the Ath tonight. It was a class dinner for Prof. Busch's GOVT20 class. The highlights included conversations about the Ivory Coast, strange roommates, and (most importantly) they had some great cheesecake. So great, in fact, that we raided the empty tables to ensure ourselves some extra slices. Cheesecake. I love it. Occasionally, I'm not sure if I want cake or a dairy...