When a guy starts dating a new girl, there is one moment we all fear: meeting her friends. I believe this moment ranks higher than, say, going to the first family gathering or having her mother call your dorm room at 8:00 a.m. on a weekday morning trying to track her daughter down (not that I would know how that feels . . .). For a guy, meeting the friends is never easy because we know, as soon as we leave, we are going to be analyzed in more ways than you ever thought possible. Not even a coroner will dissect us as thoroughly as her friends are about to. In some strange way, it is her friends that will decide whether your relationship is merely a trade deadline acquisition or a long-term contract extension. But here is what the women seldom understand: as important of role as your friends play in deciding whether we are a keeper, your friends help us decide if you are a keeper because, if we can not stand your friends, we will never want them around, and that is probably a deal breaker.
I got lucky. My Better Half has some pretty spectacular friends that I have really gotten to know and call friends of my own now (I promise, I did not do anything wrong last night and I am not in trouble). Sure, she had her share of nut-job friends, but they were nice enough to weed themselves out over time. But her closest friends, BFF (really girls? is that best you could do?),
Whoa, sorry about that; might have gotten a little carried away right there. But let this be a lesson to all you out there. Tread lightly when dealing with the Chief. There is a reason the old saying "there's a competition and [the Chief's] in it" came along. He rarely lets someone get the better of him. You have been warned, Q. And no, I do not know if one day we can be friends Q. Buts that is mostly because I do not know how you are going to feel when the Yankees win the World Series, when the Giants beat the Eagles on Sunday (but Donovan will still have a good game . . . my Fantasy Football season is depending on it), and when my Kings trounce "your" Flyers on November 18th. Oops . . . it got away from me again. While I take a breather and try to cool myself down, here are some things you might have missed:
- Marisa Miller + $3 million bra = win.
- In case you live in a box and have not heard, this lady offered sex for World Series tickets. Where is the harm in that?
- Nobody bites Tim Wakefield's wife (*googling Wakefield's wife* . . . hello you in the middle) and lives to tell about it. NOBODY!
- The end of the aluminum bat is near.
- After discovering the economy had grown 3.5% in the third quarter, Congress decided there was nothing else left to fix with the country and moved on to more important things, like the NFL.
- The NBA put the kibosh on Tim Donaghy's book. But that does not stop Deadspin from having excerpts.
- Remember in 1999 when Rick Pitino said Antoine Walker would never have to worry about money again? Just add that to the list of things Pitino got wrong in Boston.
- A revelation no one was surprised by.
- Raise your hand if you have never used the "I got really drunk and don't remember what happened" excuse. Anyone? I did not think so.
- Lost by a thread . . . literally.
- "It was an innocent mistake. [Male] Parents have been very understanding."
- Anvil launching, as cool as it sounds.
- The BCS rankings are back . . . and so are the chimps: week1 and week 2.
- Melissa Joan Hart learns the hard way (that's what she said . . . ba-ZING!) you do not mess with Jimmy Kimmel.
- Double your pleasure, double your [face-plant] fun.
- Seriously Japan, what did the Miami Dolphins ever do to you?
- One word: FAIL.
- They call me Mister Understood because no one understands me.
