bike riding

I just remembered something I thing when I was younger, that I thought was hilariously ridiculous.

I didn’t learn how to ride a bike until I was eight. All my friends learned by age 3 or 4. So, yeah, that made me feel like a dumbshit who couldn’t read. All kids do is ride their bikes around the neighborhood. My friends would never ask me to go outside the immediate neighborhood due to the fact that I didn’t have a bike, let alone be able to ride an extra one of theirs. Finally, one day I just tell them that I will run along side them while they ride their bikes. Bad idea. That lasted one time. Wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be. Realized running is not the equivalent difficulty level of biking. Good to get that out at an early age.

Moving on to another subject. Hola! This here is making history. First drunk post! You knew it was coming; only a matter of time. (You try and find someone who knows how to properly use a semi-colon like I do, and I will give him a grand congrats.) So I wrote a script. Hilarious in fact. About a sub teacher, who is trying to make it in the acting industry. Verbatim of my life, last year. This mofo is more funny that midgets trying to reach the sugar on a counter two feet above them and 3 feet ahead (it’s impossible!!! hilarity ensues! hahahaha!!! Somebody get the camera!!!)

Ok. Time shift. It is now Sunday morning, and I am no longer drunk. This post is making more history for being created on multiple days. Back to my script. I need people to read it, and give me their comments on it. Obviously, I feel (and know) that this shit is awesome. But I want other people to tell me it as well.  It is a quick and easy read. We’re not talking Blood Meridian here, and I do know how to properly conjugate. So you have that going for you.

Also, aaron (pic below), who cowrote the subbing script with me, has yet another new one out, and wants me to shill his product on my blog. Thus, I will. Now we both know telling people about our scripts here is not really going to amount to much, but you never know who looks where and when. Anything can happen. Look at Michael Rappaport in War at Home. You fucking telling me he has talent? I’ll ride a porcupine horse with an open taint area if you can convince me he is funny. However, he was awesome in True Romance. Which will get itself an entire post later on. Anyhoo, someone finds the script, I become rich, get to not work. For at least 6 months. Yay! Oh, I forgot. Aaron’s script is called Proud Papa. About a high schooler who donated sperm and moms kept picking his juice because he was a sports star and a genius. Flash forward 20 years or so and this kid is a drunken loser at life, but starts finding his kids all over the place in his town. Good stuff.

subbing

Today we delve back in the gritty underground that is sub teaching. Or as Miami Public Schools call it, temporary instructing. Don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings of professionalism.

I’ve been a sub in Miami, at four different schools, and in New York City, mostly in Manhattan. I always thought Miami kids were annoying and stupid. That was until I got to Manhattan. Those kids are fucking losers. The public schools of course. Private schools are another matter. I make it a point to never go below high schools. Anything younger and my extremely long patience (re: I don’t give a fuck) wears thin. However, private schools in Manhattan are so good that I would sub 2nd graders. Ok. Back to the public fucks.

One assignment was for me to be the “recess coordinator” for a school in Harlem. Now, I’m not stupid. I’m white. I know what is in Harlem. I know I am not welcome in some areas of Harlem. Lots of students who won’t listen to a young kracka ass. Nevertheless, $100/day, so up the train I went. It was an assignment for two months, until the end of the school year. I was gone after two days.

Immediately I find out that these students are PAID to attend school. And not in fucking stickers. These fucks get $70 a week. And this was a middle school. $280 a month? Do you realize and remember how much that would have been in middle school? You would have been rich! So, right away, I’m not liking the situation. On top of that, again, I agreed to sub at this school until the end of the semester. This means no more waking up at 6am and calling 5 schools for work, which is a big bonus. We’ll see.

Turns out the only way to control these fucks is to threaten to take their money. Well, at least they get some knowledge of how the real world works. Too bad they’ll be dead or too cracked in 5 years to realize it. But let’s get to the situation that ended my short illustrious career in Harlem subbing.

During one of my “recess coordinating” gigs, the students all pile into the gym, get out every single ball imaginable, and either shoot baskets, or throw them at the heads of each other. Nothing else. So, this is quite fun to watch, as you can imagine. Also I notice that the actual teachers for the students sit in the bleachers talking to other teachers, acting oblivious to what’s going on right in front of them. It was ridiculous how they could get pelted with a dodgeball in the shoulder, yell at the thrower, and immediately rejoin the convo in stride. So these teachers are actually making it worse for me. Students see no discipline from their own teachers = no fucking way listening to me.

The first day went by just as a really, really, really, loud and annoying recess session from middle school. Lots of yelling, balls everywhere, black kids nearly fighting over basketball fouls. Again, $100/day for just standing and putting up with this shit. I didn’t really have to do anything. If the regular fucking teachers just sit there and do nothing, on salary, I’m sure as shit not doing anything. The second day, however, would prove my breaking point.

Same old shit. Yelling, screaming, etc. But this day a girl throws a dodgeball at a boy’s head. Direct hit! I’m laughing. I’m also standing about 10 feet away. The girl isn’t paying attention anymore, and the boy is fucking pissed. He winds up, and swings at her head as hard as he can. She doesn’t even see it coming. He has worse accuracy than her. Therefore she is still alive. The boy missed her head by about 4 inches, and she didn’t even notice he swung at her. Me, being 10 feet away, being a potential witness to a possible traumatic head injury, immediately say “Fuck this” and walk out the door. I only go back into Harlem now for Dino BBQ. (125th and 12th!!!!)

Man, this post got out of hand. And there’s more! Now in Miami, I am always given the worst classes. The sub coordinator makes a point to do this. Multiple times a week, she will tell me how a different sub told her they don’t want to ever sub at the school again, the kids were so bad. I get back the next day, and tell her there was no problem. She loves me. I just don’t care. No 15 year old will ever be annoying enough to make me quit this cush job. They can shit on the desk and shape it into brown doves and I wouldn’t quit. How else am I supposed to read 2 books a week while having responsibility for shaping the minds of the future?

Example dialogue at beginning of each class between myself and potential slackers: You dont want to do anything, fine. I don’t care. You don’t have to. I’m going to read. You want to listen to music? Fine. Put on headphones. I don’t want to hear it. Principal walks in, asks what you’re all doing on the computers? Dont say a word. Just agree with whatever I say. “Look, here’s their work right here. (point to already set up stack of papers on desk) They just finished, so I let them go on to the computers since there isn’t anything else.” Problem solved.

Skillz Challenge

Just like the old days. Pippen and the Bulls vs. Laimbeer and the Pistons. Damn, Laimbeer is fat. Ok, yes, we all know he is only coaching now. But come on. Give him a jersey bigger than size 40. I wore that shit in 7th grade. That mofo is 6′11. Moving on. I love how everyone, at the SKILLS competition, still fucking hate the Pistons. Really, they probably are all old, over 50 white males, taking their spoiled high school graduate sons to Vegas for his time to become a man, yay, and still despise Laimbeer and his old debauchery. Good stuff. Nothing like some deep down enthusiastic booing at a fucking all star game skillz challenge.

Pippen needs to come back. Best overall defensive player ever. Should have won the MVP in 1993-94, the first year after Jordan left. That team, with the second best player on that team being Horace fucking Grant, only won two less games (55) than the previous Jordan edition. All true basketball fans know about the Hubert Brown foul. Still, if Pippen wins beats the Lakers in 2000, which should have happened (rasheed, choke, wallace) they go on to beat the Pacers and Pippen etches himself among the best to ever play. Now he is merely thought of as a Sammy Sosa type retread, looking to itch his unscratchable taint before it’s time to go back to his full time job of being lower on the todem pole than Greg Anthony. Ah, now we know why Pippen is trying a comeback.

Darko’s watch is the size of my hand.

With the NBA starting to heat up, and the Pistons making a run for best record in the East, I want to make everyone acknowledge that what I’m about to state is fact. True. Without reasoing. (Comments welcome to tell me I’m wrong. Please. Just let me see you’re reading.)

EVERY SINGLE TEAM would have drafted Darko at number 2. (Except maybe the Spurs, because of Duncan.) The ONLY person going ahead of him was Lebron. End of story. So everyone can shut the fuck up about it.

Did dumars fuck up? You better believe it. But this isn’t the NFL. You don’t draft the best player available. You draft what you need. Portland took Bowie over Jordan because they had Clyde the Glide. Over time, were they wrong? Of course. But you dont throw away an awesome talent, (Top 50 player of all time) because there is an equally awesome one in college a year later. They would have had two players in the same position, wasted them, etc. Once again, every team that didn’t have a big man in that draft would have taken Bowie. Pat Riley has even said he wanted Bosh over Wade in 2003.

Lets look at what would have happened regarding 2003. Personally, I wanted Melo. Bad. Was the best pure shooter and scorer in college that year. Tayshaun Prince is a sixth man. Could be the best one in the league-we’ll never know, because he starts every game. And, look at that! He plays great in only about one in three! Like someone who should come off the bench! Wow! Unbelieveable! Detroit should have not dismissed Carmelo because they thought Prince was their man at SF. However, as Aaron the basketball extraordinaire said, Larry Brown would have demolished the confidence of Melo, Wade, or Bosh, as he did with Darko. There was no way any of them were seeing significant time off the bench in front of Billups and Hamilton. Larry Brown fucking despises anyone who hasn’t played for 5 years, hasn’t played for him before, or didn’t go to North Carolina. Thanks grandpa. Can’t wait until another media person defends all the bullshit you do.

Dumars picked Okur in the second round. Okur has turned into Nowitzki very lite over in Utah. Great complimentary player, who can make the end of game shots. They had to let him walk to keep Rasheed. The Pistons also drafted Bonzi Wells in 1999. (I dont remember if Dumars was GM then.) Charlotte fucking traded Vlade Divac and some pick I don’t remember for Kobe fucking Bryant. Are you kidding me? Point is, I’m just sick and fucking tired of reading people like Bill Simmons rant on Dumars. He’s one of the better GMs in the league, outside of the draft. I know that’s a big part, but I’d rather a GM be better at creating chemistry, role players, and a good bench. (Something else Dumars has lacked in.) Simmons’ douchebag Celtics would have taken Darko at 2 as well. With the CBA and the rookie contracts, every team is renting their top five picks, just hoping they don’t bolt after 3 years. All you Cleveland fans, (none right now reading; I think I only have two readers right now, and one is me during editing) you really think Lebron signing his extension means he’s not leaving? Get fucking real. Bosh, same thing. Even though it seems like Toronto could be starting something good. Too bad everyone hates living and playing in Canada, where the taxes are higher.

One last thing. About how people bitching about the east being easy. Yup, you’re right. Too fucking bad. It’s boring as hell to have the old school basball rules of two conferences, and everyone equal. It creates excitement that a shitty Knicks team can actually think of going on a great 10 game tear (impossible) and being in first place, still with a losing record. And come on, who doesnt want to see a division winner under .500 in the playoffs?

job search.

Today I was told, after 18 months of rigorously searching for a real job, that I was over qualified. Bullshit. Have they seen my resume? It’s full of sub teaching and serving! Gary the retard doing your grocery bagging has a better resume than me. At least he has shown he stays at the same job. I’ve had over 35 jobs since junior year of high school. Beat that bitches. You name it, I’ve probably done it.

You want to know what sucks more than not being able to get a real job? Taxes. Every fucking year around this time I have to go through, month by month (sometimes by week) who I worked for, find their number online, call their HR department, who I never get on the first try, so I end up leaving a message, and tell them to send me my W-2 to wherever I live now. (South Florida. How’s that negative wind chill? Just checking. You suck!) This all so I can make sure I get back every dollar possible. Then I have to find all the receipts from last year, the ones that shouldn’t be counting as a deduction, but you can bet your sweet deductible ass they’re getting used.

Back to job turn down. It’s requirements were only a high school education. High school! In a part of the country where the high schools are horrendous! Yeah, there are good private schools down here, but those pretentious fucks who care too much about school won’t be applying where they live. They have to “travel. Live life.” Whatever. You’ll end up back in mommy’s arms no less than two years after you graduate, living back close to home. Because you are all pussies. At least I continue to have no money away from my parents. Keeps me from attending reunions. Which is notable. Back to the story. The department head tells me I am too qualified, but that she will forward my resume to another department head for jobs requiring a Masters degree. What! Don’t get me wrong-my ass is smart. But employers never give a job to someone without the required degree. So, whatever, I say sure, and throw that job option in the “You suck at life, Anton” bucket with the rest of them.

sub teaching.

Lets go through how awesome I am at work.

A day in the life of the best temporary instructor known to Jorel.

6:25am-wake up.

6:26am-take Nyla (dog) out.

6:32am-get pissed at Nyla for taking so long to piss and poop when I purposely make her wait over 12 hours just to make sure she goes quickly in the morning.

6:35am-give Nyla food.

6:36am-go check my websites.

6:55am-get dressed (I don’t shower. Waste of time in the morning. Plus my beautiful hair looks better matted down.)

7:00am-walk to school.

7:05am-walk through same group of douchebag male high schoolers that always block the fucking sidewalk to act tough. Fags. I bet they skip class and hang out in the same spot after school.

7:06am-find out who I’m subbing for. Today, the subbing coordinator, tells me how last week when I subbed Choir a teacher complained that she found two of my students in her classroom, twice, and finally walked them back to my class, came in, and saw me sitting in the back of the class reading the sports section. Whoops. I tell her that I merely let them go to the bathroom, and they never returned. (Good cover! I use it every time.) Temporary Instructor rules state that I cannot leave the classroom alone to the students under any circumstances. You want to roam the halls? Go for it. You want to go to second lunch? Be my guest. Just don’t get caught. Because I will throw you under the Anton bus like masterbating with soap. Hard, with pain.

7:10am-arrive at my class. Today, I have it easier than normal, which is almost impossible. Instead of baby sitting an entire class of rejects, I have to just proctor one student at a time in a small room. They get 30 minutes to prepare for, supposedly, a very hard IB english oral test, which they take right after. I say supposedly because I never took any hard classes in high school other than honors math, so I don’t know if what they are doing is really that hard. They sure stress out like they’re gonna be whipped at home if they don’t pass. I was put into NHS and AP History due to my grades, and dropped out immediately, much to every one’s dismay. “Anton, Anton, why are you taking the stupid American History? That’s for all the dropouts and losers!” Because I don’t want to read ten fucking books during the summer, all for an sash to wear during graduation, that won’t help me get more money from college anyways. So fuck off. I’m going to coast like Vince Carter in a contract dispute, and there’s nothing you can do about it, because I have talent.

7:30am-begin awesome day of starting timer, reading, stopping timer.

8:00am-repeat.

8:30am-repeat.

In fact, I repeat that shit all the way until 2pm. Then I go home. And I got $100 bucks for that. Your job sucks.

Handshakes after games are for pussies.

As I mentioned in my intro, I am a big detroit area fan of the sports teams, with the Pistons slightly to a lesser extent. Let me explain. Back when I was younger, around 8 or 9, it was the heyday of the Bad Boys, and the end of the Bulls/Pistons rivarly. (Note: nothing has come close to the awesomeness of that rivalry in the NBA. The literal steps Jordan had to take every year, getting one step closer each year, was perfect. And then to have the Pistons completely go into the tank, epitomized by the Teal jerseys, which was rock bottom.) Back to the story. So my entire family, immediate and extended, are die hard piston fans. They hate the Lakers, Celtics, and definitely the Bulls. My favorite T-shirt when I was younger was one my cousin had that said “Chicago Blows: No Wonder they call it the Windy City.” Ok, I’m rambling. but you should be happy I’m doing this post sober.

Ok, lets get this out of the way before I type two more paragraphs and no one knows what the fuck I’m talking about. All of my family = die hard pistons fans. Me = want to be different, and likes to give other people a hard time, so I pick the other team = Bulls fan. I got so much shit over this growing up; every single reunion it was brought up. So 1991, the year the Bulls finally beat the Pistons, my dad (Bob; spread eagle!!) and I go to game 4 (deciding game) at the Palace. Me, being as smart as I was and still am, want to root for the Bulls, but don’t want to be heckled by Pistons fans, so I decide to wear a red Bulls hat, and a black Pistons Bad Boys skull and crossbones t-shirt. (Yo pops-how did you let this slide? My kid is never going against the family. You gotta lay the smack down! And I dont mean smack our hands like you used to, to punish us. Because that was gay. But that shit hurt. Moving on.) On the walk into the Palace, which back then when I was small, was fucking hell, (fuck you, no parking garages!) a guy even stopped us to heckle me for wearing opposing fan gear. So, yeah, a lot that did for me wearing different teams.

So I don’t remember much about the game, other than it was an afternoon game, and the Bulls won 115-94. You can look that shit up and check it. It’s true, and no, I didn’t look it up. My mind is just that awesome. After the Pistons walk off the court with no handshakes, save Dumars and Salley I believe (good job Spider! You got another ring six years later for not burning bridges!) and as we were leaving, everyone is fucking pissed that the Pistons lost. My lasting memory from the game was I had to go to the bathroom before the hour long ride home. Bob didn’t need to go, so he sent me in there alone. But then he called me over, grabbed my Bulls hat off my head, and said it probably wasn’t a good idea for me to be wearing that at the moment. I still wonder if some enraged Pistons fan would have decked me, a nine year old, or at least pushed me in the butt while pissing at the urinal (I hate that) so I touched the old piss with the back of my hands, all for the name of Isaiah and Laimbeer. I guess we’ll never know.

So now I still get shit for being a Bulls fan, when really when I think about it I was just a Jordan fan. I probably could denounce my Bulls fanship and go to Pistons full time, but I feel that would say my nine year old self was wrong in his thinking, and that just can’t happen.

Side note: I love rooting for the guy everyone hates because they are so good. Duke comes to mind. No, I am not a die hard Cameron Crazy by any means, but as I said before, I am a University of Michigan fan. Michigan basketball is atrocious. In fact, Duke’s overrated namesake got Amaker a job there, which at the time I was excited, because he convinced Eddie Griffin (I think) to go to Seton Hall, and he could get Michigan the awesome one and done all stars a la Melo. But I didn’t go there, so I don’t have to like them if I don’t want. Really, I don’t have any college basketball affiliation. But everyone hates Duke, so I might as well piss them off by rooting for them. Even though they do underachieve four out of five years, and Coach K refuses to realize that he needs the Brands and Maggettes of the nation every year, even if they are going to leave, to get past the Sweet 16. Dumb ass.

That’s enough posts for one day. Updates have not been decided yet. Probably just whenever I think of something to write about. Feel free to send ideas.

The Cuse!!!

Watching the Syracuse/UConn game tonight, I just want to vent about how much of an asshole douchebag Jim Calhoun is. I’ve always hated UConn; ever since they beat Iverson back in the 1996 Big East Tourney title game when Iverson was the most awesome player to watch ever and I was in my prime viewing age. I now also have a friend, Aaron, who knows tons more basketball than me, due to actually going to a real basketball college. (The Cuse!!!) So him and I trade insider info like Calhoun trades victories for babies souls. He cheats and recruits thugs, most notably last year during the free laptop giveaway Marcus Williams decided to help him run, and I hate his Northeastern cock sure accent. His teams have turned into the Cincinnati of the 90’s, making Huggins proud, and I will always look forward to every March come tourney time when his teams underachieve just like those Bearcats. But last year it was ok, right? Because those shitty George Mason players had experience. It’s not like they had only half the talent? Oh wait, Rudy Gay decided to play that game? Are you sure?

Also, watching the inevitable pregame bullshit between rivalry games, where espn (I OWN ABC!!!) always finds a couple who have seperate rooting interests. Like its the biggest fucking shock in the world that every couple didn’t meet in college and never break up. Fuck off. However, it angered me, just like it did to Mr. Syracuse of the gay couple shown, that Calhoun and Boheim are close friends. That doesn’t make me happy. Boheim is awesome. Went to school there, coached there, only job he’s ever had. Calhoun, on the other hand, is the aforementioned asshole douchebag. It’s like when I read about Tressel showing up at Bo’s wake in the Big House, watching the proceedings while eating a hotdog, acting like he’s not thinking of more ways to cheat and get away with it. But that’s another post.

The beginning.

I’ve decided to make my own blog. Mostly because I think I am funny. If you don’t, then FUCK YOU! Carl’s Jr will steal your children!

Lets get some things straight. I don’t extensively watch sports anymore, but I will give my opinion as though I am still an expert. I still watch a lot, but honestly, my expertise on all things sports related was in its prime back when I was 13. Nothing to do back then other than collect cards, memorize the stats, and…have absolutely nobody to fucking spit my endless amounts of awesome info to. Bitches. That said, I still do watch sports, movies, some tv. I hate reality tv, but my girlfriend (threesomes welcome, bring your own toast) loves them. Hence, I’m forced to watch. Maybe a post will come out of them; it might be worth watching then. But probably not. Two reality tv shows are actually quality: Project Runway and the Apprentice. Those have contestants who are actually competing for a career, not a chance to break Trishelle’s record for “she’s a whore” comment by females watching.

I love Michigan football, Miami football (they are 1A), Detroit Lions (draft Calvin Johnson!), Tigers, Red Wings, and the Pistons, on a lesser scale than the rest of the Detroit teams. Michigan basketball is a joke, and always will be with amaker at the helm (go spinning finger offense!) All of these things will be discussed in detail sometime later on. Don’t want to kill all my material in one Highlander katana swoop.

With that, I welcome you to the life of Anton.