If you're gonna close the roads, then fucking work on them.

I drive a lot. I live near Philly, work near Atlantic City, and play hockey twice a week near New York. On the way to hockey games, I usually stop and pick up my pal who lives in Monmouth County because he can't drive. It's pretty safe to say that I'm all over the state of New Jersey every week. I've seen a lot of roads.

I've also sat in lots of traffic. During rush hour I don't get mad at it, because I fully expect it. Lots of people want to get home from work. I get that. But nothing is worse than sitting in an hour of traffic at midnight when it should be nothing but you and the open road all the way to your destination.

When this happens, it's usually because roads or lanes are closed off for construction. And that makes my blood boil.

After sitting in traffic for hours I used to speed past the workers without looking over. I was convinced that the cause of all the traffic was that rubber-necks in the front of the line had to stop and look at what was going on, so I did my part by cruising to the open part of the road.

But now I stop and stare.
I wasn't ready for what I saw.

Out of the 25 guys on-hand to "work", there were maybe two guys performing actual labor. The rest of the guys were split up into groups along the road. Smoking cigarettes. Eating hoagies. Waiting in lines to use the porta-potty. Telling jokes and laughing. I even saw one guy on the AC Expressway laying face-up in fresh asphalt like he was trying to make a permanent snow angel.

I wanted to drive my car across the median and take some construction vehicles out with me.

There's 500 cars backed up at midnight on a weekday, and these lazy fucks are sitting around playing with their dicks when they're supposed to be fixing the "problem" that they themselves are causing.

I understand that you work shitty hours and your job includes physical labor, and everyone gets to take a break at work. But not all 25 of you at the same time. This is what you signed up for so fucking do it. The NJ Turnpike doesn't need to be backed up for six months straight so you guys can have somewhere to go at night to escape your home life. Get the job done and move on to the next one.

Or else just quit and go get a different job. Maybe find one where you have to drive home through two hours of unnecessary traffic, then get to watch guys hanging out and laughing when you get to the end of the line.

Round of Applause

I bet when you were younger you wanted to be a Police Officer when you grew up. Or maybe a professional athlete, or a princess, or a firefighter or something totally awesome like that.

Not me.

There was one specific thing I always wanted to become. Something that I thought would be so much better than anything else.

I wanted to be that person on a sitcom that the crowd cheers for whenever they walk in the room.

I'm not saying I wanted to have the character traits of Steve Urkel. I mean, it would be cool to be a genius, but he was still a little too nerdy for my liking. But the one thing that made him stand out from the other characters on Family Matters, in my memory at least, is that when he would walk in the room, the crowd would go wild. They would cheer as he stood in the doorway, shaking his hips back and forth in his tight jeans and suspenders, licking his lips while surveying the family room. He had to wait a full three seconds before he could deliver his lines because the crowd was too busy cheering in anticipation. While Carl, a police officer by the way, was cool in his own right, he never got quite the same crowd reception as Steve.

Again, I want to stress that I didn't want to be Steve Urkel. I wanted to be what he was. What he represented. There were other characters on other shows who embodied the same things in different ways. Al Bundy on Married... With Children. Kramer on Seinfeld, Screech on Saved by the Bell, Shawn Hunter on Boy Meets World, and Cody on Step by Step. They embraced what they did, and the people loved them for it. I wanted to be a combination of all of them when I grew up.

Getting applauded is fun. If it hasn't happened to you in your lifetime, then I suggest you find a way to make it happen at some point. I've made big plays playing sports in front of large crowds, I've performed on-stage in high school, and I've walked into parties with large quantities of alcohol and girls. Each one of these can earn cheers from an audience. Just imagine having that day in and day out.

Just like everything with getting older, the fun that comes with youth and being naive fades away. I've since realized that most people don't just stop and cheer for you when you walk into a room unannounced. I'm not even sure if the cheers on the shows were an actual audience or just a recording that the director would play.

We're grown-ups now, and some of us are becoming what we wanted to be when we were kids. Some of us are starting out with jobs that we thought we'd have while going through college. And some of us are working hard to make a buck, grinding through long days and tough hours, in a career that never crossed the mind until it was a necessity. No matter which scenario you fall into, there's one thing all of them can agree on: Working sucks.

And yeah we've all got great friends. Families. Girlfriends, Boyfriends. Dogs. But which one of them is cheering for you when you walk in the door after a hard days work? Not one of them.When you walk in that door you deserve something that picks your spirits up and makes you happy just because you are who you are.


And that's why I'd rather hang out with Urkel than any one of those jerks.

Back Like He Forgot Something: Cliff Lee Belongs in Philadelphia

Some things are just meant to be.

Sometimes it's determination that brings two sides together, like digging a tunnel through a mountain starting on opposite sides. Amd Sometimes it's opposite effects, like the positive and negative charges of magnets. But sometimes it's just a feeling, like how everybody who saw "Forrest Gump" for the first time just knew that Forrest and Jenny would end up together in the end, no matter how different their lives may have been.

For whatever the reason may be, Cliff Lee was born to wear Phillies red.

While the Texas Rangers and New York Yankees chased him around for the past few weeks, Lee went on hunting trips with his buddies. Lee's agent Darek Braunecker entertained the offers from those teams, while his star client was relaxing after another deep post-season run. Everybody in the sporting world thought that Lee and Braunecker were waiting for one of those two teams to buckle, and snag the best offer at some point this winter, making Lee one of the highest paid athletes on the planet.

But it turns out that Lee was looking for something a little more than money.

When news broke of a third-party "Mystery Team" entering the discussions, I think everybody in New York and Texas cringed a little, and I'm willing to bet that most sports fans in America had that 'feeling' that it was the Philadelphia Phillies getting ready to make an offer.

Lee turned down more money, more years, more publicity, and probably more playing time to rejoin the team that he helped reach the World Series in 2009. As always, the respectful Lee was classy about the situation and called Rangers GM Jon Daniels to break the news himself.

"People rag on players for following that last dollar. Cliff didn't do that. I have a lot of respect for him." Daniels said after the phone call. (1)

Chalk that one up for one of sports' good guys.

With Texas out of the way, it was clear the Philly was the only other option, because, lets face it, after the way Yankees fans treated Lee's wife during last year's ALCS, I don't think New York stood a chance. Fans spit, threw beer, and cursed at her while she sat with other family members of Rangers players.

"The fans did not do good things in my heart," Lee's wife, Kristin, told USA Today. "When people are staring at you, and saying horrible things, it's hard not to take it personal." (2)

I bet those fans are kicking themselves now, huh? If you Yankees fans are looking for somebody to blame over this, I'd say don't look to crucify Lee, look at whoever is sitting next to you the next time you visit Yankees Stadium.

The bottom line in the story is that Lee wanted to be in Philadelphia. You heard weeks of talks with the other two, and then after one day of speculation in Philly and he's signing a contract. That's not a coincidence, that's a man that knows what he wants. And that's exactly why Lee belongs in Philadelphia. He relates to the people, the die-hard fans of the team who probably would have given a year of their paychecks to have him come back to us. But Lee didn't want our money. He wanted our hearts. He wanted exactly what we gave him during that 2009 playoff run, where the entire city was behind him in a way that no other city has shown him since then. And Thanks to Ruben Amaro Jr. showing up fashionably late to the Lee sweepstakes, us fans can give him exactly that for the next 6 years of our lives.

So I say this to all of you true Phillies fans; Embrace it. By signing this contract, Lee is telling each and every one of you personally that there is nowhere else on the planet that he would rather be. He wants you to tailgate games that he's starting and wear Cliff Lee jerseys and shirts. He wants you to make signs that say "Cliff Banga!" and stand behind him for each pitch. He wants you to be loud, and wave rally towels, not gay pom-poms like San Francisco did in the NLCS and World Series. In other words, he wants you to be the way that Philadelphia fans have always been, because he's personally telling you that he feels you are the best at what you do.

I agree with him, and think there's not a chance in the world that we'll let him down.

Quotes were used in this blog from
(1) MLB.com
http://mlb.mlb.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20101213&content_id=16311236&vkey=news_nyy&c_id=nyy&partnerId=rss_nyy

And

(2) ESPN.com
http://sports.espn.go.com/new-york/mlb/news/story?id=5729471

Remember Myspace? Me Neither...

It's kind of hard to picture it now, but Myspace.com used to be the most popular social network on the internet. I remember girls getting mad if they weren't in your top eight, and songs playing on your main page for the viewers. Facebook was just a budding idea in the brain of a genius, starting to sprout up around college campuses in the northeast, but like a proud older brother, Myspace ruled the world.


At first, they competed with each other like a sibling rivalry should. Myspace added a messenger, and Facebook added a messenger. Facebook added tagged photo's, and Myspace added tagged photo's. But eventually the tide began to turn. Myspace got movie shout outs, ("So you guys on myspace orr??") but Facebook got movies (The Social Network, obv). Users were jumping ship. The Last Log-in timers that used to read 5 minutes ago now all read September 2009. It's almost as if Myspace just up and admitted that it's younger brother had become cooler and gave up.


Now I'm not saying that Myspace is terrible, I think it was ahead of its time and I respect it. But if there was a family Christmas party for websites, I think Facebook would show up in a limo with a hot date named Twitter, while Myspace would show up 2 hours late, hammered drunk, with it's nagging girlfriend Photobucket. It's not hard to imagine who Google and Yahoo! would be following around all night trying to talk to.


In all honesty, I think Myspace did it to itself. Facebook put a name to it's genius in  Mark Zuckerberg. All we knew about the creator of Myspace was that he was some weird guy named Tom with a white t-shirt.

We never even learned Toms last name. He was just that guy who added every single person as a friend as soon as they made an account. And even as with being on everybody's friends list, he was never able to attain celebrity status on his own site. The most famous person that came away from Myspace was Tila Tequila.

Yet the most famous person from Facebok was Zuckerberg himself. Like the little brother that it was, it looked at the things that it's older sibling did that worked, and then added original ideas by itself to improve. Facebook built it's name by one-upping big brother to death. And just as it goes in life, It didn't take long for Graig Weidinger to become cooler than Beav, the younger brother succeeded.



Myspace still serves a purpose these days (I think?). It's the place where new bands and struggling comedians make pages and try to start a fan-base. But Facebook hosts "like" pages for already established bands and actors where fans can interact with the click of a button. NewsCorp, the company that bought Myspace in 2005 for $580 million dollars says they are open to selling, but they are waiting for the site to become profitable again.

Profitable???? We talkin about Playoffs???? Myspace blew that money so fast and you can catch him now sleeping on Atlantic City benches and begging tourists on Tennessee Ave for spare change to buy a 40 oz. of Old English. Facebook rules the world now and I don't foresee anything changing that in the near future. It's continuing to grow, (I heard some ridiculous stat that one of every three people in the world has an account, insane, I know) and it's making AOL and Hotmail two very, very proud parents.

Somewhere, Myspace just crawled into a ditch and stayed there.

Facebook didn't even organize a funeral.

Lacey Chabert; You Should Date Me

Dear Lacey,

We haven't met yet, but I'm pretty sure that you should be my next girlfriend. I feel like we'd go so well together, like two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly together. And i'm not talking about the gay outside pieces of the puzzle, the ones that everyone picks out of the box as soon as its open to make the border. No no no, we are the important center pieces. The ones that give the picture its form. The strong, independent pieces that would be fine on their own, but look so much better when they are put together.

Let me explain. You're a million dollar actress. But i still feel like I have so much to offer you. I'm not a gold digger, Lacey, I make my own money. So what if its only a little over $30,000 a year? I'd be willing to share all of that with you. We could split it right down the middle. That 15-17k you get from me could buy you a very nice fine china dining set for youf quarter million dollar dining room. Consider it my house warming gift to you.

And, yeah, I'm a little bit on the short side. I'm listed at 5'6''. But Chickipedia.com has you listed a 5'3''!! Tell me thats not a match made in heaven! You could still wear 3 inch heels at our wedding! I'd pump myself a half inch up with some dollar-store hush puppies and BOOM! Still taller, while you look beautiful it all that white.

Did i mention I'm college educated? Lets forget the part about how it took me six years to get a four degree. Life's a marathon, not a sprint, right? Plus i changed majors, i picked up minors, I took extra classes... I'm a modern day renaissance man. I've got so much knowledge up here in my brain that I could solve any problem that might come our way. And, Lace, can i call you Lace? Lace, if there's one thing I learned in college, it's calculus. You know what it says?

 It says you.

Plus me

Equals us. (I know I'm a little bit cuter than you, but it's something your just going to have to try to see past if you want to make this thing work.)

Seriously. Just imagine the two of us riding down the freeway without a care in the world. The sun is shining and my air conditioning doesn't work, so we roll the windows down. And I don't have a convertable, but I do have a sun roof. We can open that shit up and laugh into the wind. You know what? Why don't you drive? I'm really good at riding shotgun.

And I know you've been working as an actress for a long time. I've been a fan since Lost in Space. Not even kidding. It's been that long. I was probably 10 years old and you were my first real crush. If I was a child actor I'm sure I would have been yours too. I used to hear I looked alot like Johnathan Taylor Thomas. Now I hear Brad Pitt. (Or Rob Dyrdek). What a combo right?

and you're only 28 years old now girl, so we have plenty of living left to make up for lost time. I heard you don't date guys under 25, so you're in luck. I turn that magical number in less than a month. I'd love it if you made your way out to New Jersey for my birthday party. And like I said girl, I don't mind sharing. My birthday is your birthday. We can do whatever you like. Bring some friends, I've got plenty. And they are all DTF so tell your girlies no worries about trying to impress anybody. I mean I know it would be a little intimidating to come out and hang out with us guys, but we're not snobs, we'd be polite to all of them.

Except the ugly ones.

So what do you say Lace? You wanna make this thing official? I'm ready when you are. Lets not spend our lives like those puzzle pieces that stay in the box and never form the picture. Lets find our way to the center of the table and complete this son of a bitch. Because, honestly, the outside is what everybody notices at first, and it's definitely the easiest part to put together. But the puzzle would just look stupid without the inside. Lets give this world something to look at.

Love always,

Jeff

You Can't Beat Neat

I'm at work right now, and I think I just had an epiphany.

You see, I've never been the neatest person. My room is always a mess. My car has shit thrown in and out of it, and at the end of a long work night, I usually just leave without cleaning anything off of my desk. I have fast-food paraphernalia littered all over it.

Before coming in today, I stopped at Dunkin Donuts and got myself a large Strawberry Coolata. The perfect way to stay refreshed for a few hours while typing on a computer. In the middle of writing (something interesting, I'm sure of it) I reached over for my cup without taking my eyes off the screen. I took a big sip through the straw expecting to taste the berry delightfulness, that amazing refreshment that could pick me up and keep me going.

But there were no berries. There was no delight. I did not keep going.

It got ugly.

I had just received a giant mouthful of five-day old Coca-Cola from Taco Bell.

Needless to say I ran to the bathroom and dry-heaved for a few minutes. I splashed water on my face and rubbed my tongue on paper towels until my taste buds were gone. Then I dry-heaved again.

When I got back to my desk, not even my coolata could save me. I threw every single thing with a name-brand on it in the trash can and thought to myself, "Why do I live like this? It takes two fucking minutes to throw garbage out and straighten up."

The car is next. And the room eventually. Everything is getting cleaned out, I can't take it anymore. One mouthful of old, flat, disgusting soda is enough to change a mans life.




Who am I kidding? This won't last a week.

College Graduate: Older, Wiser, Fatter

Three years ago i was in the best shape of my life. I was working out every day and playing hockey at the college level, it lead to my body being ripped up and in it's prime.

But something happens after graduation. You start working more, and working out less. You're home cooked meals become fast-food or whatever you can find fast, so that you don't risk any of the time you might be spending on other more important things. You start drinking more. And i don't mean drinking more like it takes more drinks for you to get blacked out on a Thursday night. After college there are no more Thursday nights. You take the opportunity to grab a drink whenever it comes, and it comes a lot.

All of this happened so fast that one day i looked at myself and noticed that i'd grown a little. I didn't add any height to my 5'6'' frame. I'd added 7-8 pounds on my stomach, a real life beer belly.

I'm not talking about a large and obnoxious site like this guys:

But just a small, subtle pocket of pudge. Just enough to know it's there. And it's funny to me, because I remember on the day I decided I was going to stop working out everyday, I said to myself, "It's fine, I can take a break, because the minute i notice myself starting to get out of shape I'll be right back at the gym."

This is not the case. I rationalize it by saying that I'm too busy to get to the gym for an hour everyday. But the truth is, I just don't feel like going. So instead, I'm actually embracing my new pudge. We've become friends. I play with him in the shower, and wear baggier clothes so he doesn't get embarrassed when we go out.

The best part about having it is that there's still a six pack of abs buried underneath it. I know this because when I tighten up the abs i can still feel them, and I've had my dad punch me a few times in the stomach just to prove it's still there. I swear it would of broken his hand if there wasn't a large pillow in front to cushion the blow.

You gym-rats and meatheads might be thinking to yourself, why give up?? Why just let yourself grow a gut? My answer to you fellas would be that it simply builds character. Instead of working my ass off to get rid of something that i don't even see as much of a problem, I'm instead forced to focus on other attributes of mine that are more desirable. Things like my rugged good looks and my charming charisma. I'm also building muscle in my legs by carrying around an extra 7-8 pounds all day, and that could be good if i ever want to rejuvenate my hockey career.

Maybe one day I will actually get myself back in the gym and slave over some weights and a treadmill. But right now I just don't got the time for that. Me and my new best friend are gonna head up to Dunleavy's for a cheesesteak and some beers. And we're both gonna be damn happy about it.