2006: Year in Review

As much as I’m glad to celebrate the New Year, I hate to see that 2006 has come to an end. Exactly 365 days ago, I was laying next to my then-girlfriend-now-fiancé in her home state of Washington watching how drunk Seattle news reporters ring in the New Year atop the Giant Prick (a.k.a. Space Needle). I was jobless, depressed and down on my luck, and even though I was to fly back to Chicago in a few days, I really wondered if coming back was truly the right thing to do.

It didn’t take very long to see whether or not the craptacularity was going to carry over into 2006. A week after coming back, I received word that Ed had gone missing. After searching his place for clues and discovering that the WrestleMania 22 shirt that I gave him and a Chuck Palahniuk book that I loaned him were missing, I felt comforted in a sick and perverse sort of way at the thought that those items could be his last worldly possessions before he was raped, killed and raped again Katie Vick style before being dismembered and eaten by a pack of hungry werewolves horny for some shit-brickin’ mud-butt flesh. On the other hand, my worries of his disappearance were deepened further by the discovery of his hockey stick. Oh Ed… you should have known that the hockey stick would not only have made a great weapon in self-defense against werewolves, but would have also given you better stability in preventing another dislocated knee or twisted ankle running away from said werewolves in the middle of some the meanest and scariest Wisconsin woods. In retrospect, Ed never was in any real danger, and the best thing that came out of that night was a free dinner courtesy of his uncle.

In February, I flew out to Tennessee to hang out with Carl and Eric for our annual Super Bowl outing which is now the longest running tradition among friends. The trip started out well – sight-seeing in Nashville and a tour of the Jack Daniels distillery – but took a turn after I literally hit rock bottom and fell into a river. Camera!

No matter how shitty the year was going so far, the one thing that kept my spirits up was WrestleMania at the end of March. Next to the Olympics and World Cup, WrestleMania is probably the next biggest global phenomenon out there, and I was glad to be a part of it sitting ringside along with three of my closest wrasslin buddies and the people from around the world that we met there.

March also marked my return to the workforce. After working at several big name organizations since coming out of school a few years ago, I could honestly say that I’ve finally found my niche in the workplace.

One of the things that I’ve always wanted to do was spend a week driving cross-country from one end of the United States to the other. In July, I came close to doing that, driving across two-thirds of the country from Washington State back to Chicago. After doing the drive through the most boring parts of the U.S., I don’t think I want to drive cross-country anymore.

A month later, Cathy and I made it to our vacation spot, the San Juan Islands. A beautiful sunset along the Pacific Ocean, I couldn’t ask for a better time and place to propose than right at that moment.

And the rest is pretty much history. 2006 started out rough, but things smoothed out eventually. It was a memorable year and hopefully there will be more good times to come in 2007. Happy New Year!

Public Service Announcement: Google Reader

I’m not usually one for giving tech tips or web advice, but in the wake of this week’s tragic story, sharing something that I use everyday with others is the least that I could do for someone who, through the articles he wrote, has educated many including myself in the way of new tech gadgetry.

For those of you who aren’t using a news aggregator, why not? News aggregators can save you quite a bit of time since the content on all of your favorite websites can be found in this nifty one-stop-shop web tool. And since aggregators are updated dynamically, you’re always in the know with the most up-to-the-minute information. Most content is in headline format and includes the first couple sentences of an article – this gives you the ability to quickly skim and read only the articles you are most interested in.

Do me a favor and get Google Reader (it’s in their Google Labs section). If you’re new to RSS technology or unsure about what to do with those XML buttons that you see on websites, Google Reader makes it really easy to subscribe to groups of websites at a time by clicking on a single button. Need a news feed? Click on the News bundle and you get feeds to six different websites. Google Reader is blog-friendly as well. If the blogs you like to read are on popular host sites like Blogger, Flickr, or Myspace, all you need to do is enter their user name, and just like that, you’ve created a feed to that user’s blog.

Another great feature of Google Reader is the ability to “star” certain pieces of content so that you can share it with others. Bloggers like me have used this feature as a side item to their blogs giving readers the ability to check out websites that bloggers look at on a regular basis.

So go ahead and get Google Reader. And while you’re doing that, make the Google Personalized Homepage your home page. You can move gadgets around to truly make it the page you want it to be and include only the things that are most important to you.

Our First Christmas Tree

And it's a real one too! I never knew that picking up fallen needles and watering the tree constantly could be so much fun. If only the fake ones could smell this good...

Hit and Misses

Well, it appears that my run at being in a television commercial has finally come to an end. After getting through the first round of auditions, the USA Network Powers That Be decided to go “an alternative route,” whatever that means. Oh well, at least it wasn’t all for naught. I never envisioned myself auditioning for anything, so to do this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me. I wonder what the casting agency did with my audition tape, because seeing me impersonate Triple H’s water spit or John Cena’s five knuckle shuffle is more than enough to win on America’s Funniest Home Videos any day. Damn.

I have never shopped on Black Friday before, and after waiting in line all night in 30 degree weather just to get kicked out of line only minutes before the store was to open, I have come to the realization why I’ve never done it before: BECAUSE IT SUCKS! What sucks even more? The $k0ki3 police department...I’ll show you “civil disobedience” – never have I wanted that warm and fuzzy feeling you get when you piss on the car of the cop who royally pissed you off than right at that moment.

While I was having a joyous time exchanging heated Thanksgiving tidings with the cop, my fiancé was earning her ring by freezing her ass off waiting in another line – at Gamestop...for the Nintendo Wii! And here’s a lesson for you soccer moms – waiting in line for one of the most coveted items this holiday season requires you to do one simple thing – wait in line. You get props for being there overnight and thereby pretty much guaranteeing your kid a system, but we take those props back since you didn’t go that one additional step and actually leave the warmth and comfort of your car to join the vigil of people willing to lose a frostbitten finger or three. Stupid soccer mom. They should all just stay at home and make me some babies.

Three Months, But Who's Counting?

It’s been awhile, and a lot’s gone on. Like watching your favorite porno, let’s fast forward to the good parts, shall we?

Have I mentioned that the fiancé and I are now living together? Honey, I love you dearly, but next time you leave me home alone to run some errands, can you PLEASE do me a favor? There’s nothing more uncomfortable than having a gigantic Mexican man stop by to install our cable and internet with scented candles burning and light jazz playing throughout our place. If this wasn’t awkward enough, the thought hit me as he was staring at one of the walls thinking of where he wanted to poke a hole with his drill...at least I hope that’s what he was thinking.

I usually stand my ground and comeback with something for anyone who talks shmack my way, but when a guy on a bicycle dressed in hee-haw overalls and a straw hat at 6:30 in the morning in a non-rural neighborhood is raging at you because you’re in his way, what else can you do but stand there dumbfounded in shock and awe. Did I see that? Someone please tell me I just didn’t see that.

After your woman has been drinking non-stop the whole night and spilling a little bit of wine on your suit jacket here and there, never, never, never make a comment about having to take said suit jacket to the dry cleaners. Because if you do, she’ll claim that the room is spinning and begin to regurgitate and spew all over said suit jacket along with matching suit pants, suit shirt and suit shoes, and thus re-inforcing the need to go to the dry cleaners. Somehow I feel that after a few years, I’ll have enough stories to write a book on the uncomfortable and unfortunate injustices men have had to go through because of women.

To the person that said that fear is the greatest motivator, I think I may have found something even greater – embarking on a late night trip back to Chicago from Milwaukee, and underestimating the time it takes for the White Castle burgers you had at the beginning of the trip to slide through your system. The thought of taking a shit in your own car is pretty terrifying, but the need to get to the friendly confines of your toilet at home is all the motivation anyone really needs to overcome that fear. As if you needed another reason to jet out of Wisconsin anyways.

Even I have my limits. Downing part of a bottle of hot sauce was easy. Downing a beer in a glass of chicken wing bones took a little effort. But downing a cup of bleu cheese? Since someone out there has photographical proof that I spit and definitely don’t swallow, my chances of running for a government office are pretty nil. If it's any consolation, while Drew is trying to sell a few insurance policies to the girls at Hooters, I'm offering them something more useful - a hotel room. I love the hospitality industry!

Last but definitely not least, have you ever laughed so hard you started to cry? Going to dinner with my buddies Carl and Eric is an experience like no other. Especially when we’re going to a decent restaurant and Eric’s stuck having to wear a t-shirt that says “I did it all for the Wookiee”. And if that wasn’t enough:

Eric: Do you have chips and salsa?

Waitress: Yes.

Eric: What does that entail?

Waitress: Ummm, chips and salsa?

Carl and Erwin: OoooooooH

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

After having our flight cancelled and re-booked to the following morning at the last second...

After being stuck in traffic (Seattle traffic nonetheless) for almost three hours...

After just missing the ferry and having to wait another two hours for the next one...

After getting onto the island just in time for one of our regular places that we normally frequent when we visit to tell us that they're closed...

This makes the entire frustration of sixteen hours of travel by plane, ferry and automobile so much more worth it:


A trip to the winery for a congratulatory bottle of wine and two glasses: $30

Ferry ride to the San Juan Islands: $65

Round trip flight from Chicago to Seattle: $400

A marriage proposal overlooking the Pacific Ocean at sunset: PRICELESS

She said yes!

The Beginning of the End

With the money I just spent, I could have bought:

- A really nice TV and home theatre system
- A PSA 10 Gem Mint 1986 Fleer Michael Jordan rookie card
- The platinum travel package for next year's WrestleMania in Detroit for myself and the people who went with me to WrestleMania this year

Instead, I bought this:



The things you do for love...how much head is this worth?

A Bad Omen?

From the "It Can Only Happen to Erwin" files:

Question: What are the chances of being about to leave a bank and running into an old friend who you haven't seen since his wedding day three years ago and him telling you that getting married is the worst thing you can possibly do?

Answer: Pretty high if you're me and you just went to the bank to send your very first bank wire to pay for an expensive piece of jewelry...like an engagement ring.

That's right, folks, you've read right - I sent my first bank wire!

The Move

After three plus years of imagining it, thinking of it and talking about it, the wait’s finally over – like a shady Albanian drugging an under aged girl that he met on Myspace and then having a one night stand with her in a Kane costume, the Erwin and Cathy Far From Scenic Please Be Uneventful Road Trip Short of Hell (also known as “The Move”) has come and gone. Let’s break this road trip down parte dalla parte, shall we?

Far From Scenic
With all the places we stopped for gas, our drive from Washington State to Chicago could easily have been called the Erwin and Cathy No Name Town Tour:

Ellensburg, WA
Kingston, ID
Custer, MT
Billings, MT
Clearwater, MN
Beach, ND
Fargo, ND
Hixton, WI
Rockford, IL

How I Did a 36 Hour Drive in 30 Hours #1 – Over 2,000 miles and the only things worth noting are crossing the Continental Divide twice and driving past an aluminum structure in North Dakota that proclaims to be the largest in the world – a foil eye.

Please Be Uneventful
I wonder what would have happened if I listened to the wifey and turned my head to look at a cave as I was driving through curves down a mountain going about 90 miles per hour.

How I Did a 36 Hour Drive in 30 Hours #2 – I’m pretty sure I averaged 90 – 95 miles per hour from start to finish. So much for the cops being out on 4th of July weekend.

Road Trip Short of Hell
The trip did have some memorable but infamous moments:
- Having to drive slowly through a section of highway where an accident investigation scene was ongoing with the bloody chalk outline of someone killed still on the road.
- Being unable to see through my rear windshield for pretty much the entire trip because one of the vacuum compressed bags that Cathy used to keep her clothes had filled with air.
- Eating breakfast at a McDonalds in Montana and overhearing a conversation among a bunch of 70 and 80 year old elderlies:
“I bought a bed at the flea market yesterday. It only cost me $9.”
“Did it come with a vibrator?”
- Driving on the first day of the trip from five in the morning to eight in the evening on only three hours of sleep and getting to our planned destination only to find out that all the hotels and motels in this Podunk town were booked because of a K K K biker rally and then having to stay at the only place that had vacancies – a hole in the wall motel/casino called the War Bonnet.

How I Did a 36 Hour Drive in 30 Hours #3 – Before the trip even started, I was told not to stop in Idaho while I was in Chicago, then I was told not to stop in Montana while in Washington, and then I was told not to stop in North Dakota while in Montana. Was it friendly advice or maybe a warning that colored folk just weren’t welcome?

Relativity

How I’d go about preventing someone from jumping off a building:

“There is no real meaning to life, only patterns. The adventurous type, the boring type, the quiet type, the flamboyant type, the cynical type, the geeky type, the perverted type, the suicidal type and so on and so forth. No matter who you are or how you identify yourself, you’re not the first to do what you’re about to do, and chances are, you’re not going to be the last either. No matter how different we perceive ourselves to be, we really are all the same. Everything is relative to everything else. Could you imagine what would happen if Kevin Bacon decided to jump off a mountain? The six degrees of Kevin Bacon would no longer exist.”

“And that’s a bad thing? “

“Hmmm, good point. I’ll see you in another life, brother.”

Okay, so maybe suicide prevention isn’t my thing. But you know what? I think White Castle burgers aren’t my thing either. I should have realized it after having to use the bathroom less than two hours of having my first White Castle burgers ever. I should have also realized it after having three more of those burgers after clearing out the inaugural set. Instead, the realization hit as I was running late to work this morning because my ass didn’t want to leave the toilet. What felt like a never ending stream of the squirts was actually excess burger, cheese, onions and steamed buns – the catalyst for a smooth ride out the hole. Pepto-Bismol, now that’s what I craved.

The time sitting on the pot wasn’t entirely full of waste though. I started to think of the previous day’s good times being in the company of great friends, and then it hit me.

The cheese sticks. The onion rings. The answer to the Bobby Brown question.

If my lovie was constipated and had asked me to take my hand up “there” to literally clean her system out, I would have to respectfully decline. If she then offered to sing that Whitney Houston song from “The Bodyguard,” I’d point to her and sing, “That Girl is Poison.” That’s right Bobby, let me put it this way: If Bel Biv Devoe busted a cap in your ass, do you honestly think Whitney would fist you to get that bullet? Shit, not if that bullet was filled with crack. “If It Isn’t Love?” What the fuck are you smoking dude?

I could see the comic right now in tomorrow morning’s newspaper:

“Love is...plopping your woman on the toilet and shoving White Castle burgers down her throat for instant constipation relief.”

Buffalo Rock State Park

Cleared for Takeoff

March 29, 1987 – The only light in my bedroom is coming from the television that is on channel nine, WGN news. I look over at the bottom bunk where my sister is sleeping peacefully, and I yawn, thinking that it’s past my bedtime too. It’s only around 9:30 at night, but at seven years old, 9:30 PM is more like midnight to me. My eyelids are heavy and I just want to lie down, but there’s something driving me to stay up and keep vigil, because there in my youth I truly believed that something big was going to happen. And it did.

“WGN news, tonight’s sports is brought to you by…”

As the commercial plays, sleepy weariness is replaced by an adrenalin rush. The light from the television seems brighter and I’m squinting because my pupils are trying to adjust. My heart appears to be beating faster. I have awoken.

The commercial ends and we cut back to the sportscaster at WGN news, but in what felt like not even a second, there it is:

I’m seeing Hogan vs. Andre. I’m hearing the words of Gorilla Monsoon, “The irresistable force meets the immovable object.” Both of them look at each other look at the sea of humanity, all 93,173 people at the Pontiac Silverdome for WrestleMania III.

The rest of that night is history. For me personally, that’s where it all began.

WrestleMania: WM3, Detroit – Where it all Begins...

Again – WM19, Seattle – Childhood dreams can come true...

And again – WM22, Chicago – Two words: Home City, One word: RINGSIDE...

And again – WM23, Detroit – The childhood dream comes full circle

It’s confirmed. April 1, 2007. Ford Field, Detroit. Silver package. I’ll see you in the lower level.

Touched by a Writer

Chuck Palahniuk (author of Fight Club, Invisible Monsters, Choke, Haunted, etc.) is one sick f*ck.



Chuck, thanks for agreeing with me. To all you in the Pacific Northwest, it's Ore-Ah-Gone!

A Modern Day Samson and Delilah

To all the fellas out there, I know you’ve heard this before, but I am going to officially join the millions (and millions) of guys before me and say that you cannot win against a woman. There’s just no way. It’s not possible, especially when it comes to making bets.

Men win bets simply because women let us. Women play to our needs knowing that we need instant gratification so they give us the quick and easy wins.

“Haha, you have to sing “I’m a Little Teapot” in public and you have to do all the motions.”

“Hizzah, make me a banana cream pie. Wait, why don’t you make that twoooo...and three quarters.”

“Heh heh, that’s right girlie, get underneath the table and do your thang while I have a nice conversation about politics and religion with your parents over dinner, yeah, yeah"...

...Okay, so not all these really happened. A second banana cream pie would have been nice...

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned though. To a woman, a guy winning a bet is like a tremor undetectable to the most sensitive of seismic equipment. It’s not really a big deal.

“‘I’m a Little Teapot?’ How about I wear a backpack with fake explosives and do it in Arabic in the middle of synagogue on Passover?”

But women are cruel like that. They toy with our emotions and monitor our happy meter; eventually all the little tremors build up into something catastrophic that blows up in our face:

“Wear that pink shirt, bitch.”

Or in my case earlier a few weeks ago,

“Stop being a wuss and lift up your arms so I can shave your pits.”

Yet another example of how a man’s misery can bring about a woman’s happiness.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore

Click here for more pics.

The Art of Storytelling

At my favorite place to go for lunch on a workday, the person at the register takes notice of the book I have in my hand and asks what I plan on reading in the sixty minutes I have to get my head off of work. “It’s Invisible Monsters,” I say, “the most fucked up book I have ever read.”

The person at the register grins and asks what the book is about. I tell him that it’s about the most fucked up story I have ever read. I tell him that it’s “Fucked up, man.” I tell him that the book is written by the guy who wrote the book Fight Club before it ever became a movie. I tell him, “And if you thought Fight Club was fucked up, you should check this book out.”

If Mr. Chuck Palahniuk was a porn star, he’d be Ron Jeremy. And Invisible Monsters would be his greatest fuck.

Jump to the next book in my reading queue, School for Stingers, recommended so much by two friends who took turns reading chapters to each other as bedtime stories, they decided to give me a brand new book free of Albani-Jew glue for my birthday.

From a fucked up book to a book of nothing but fucking, this is going to be interesting. While the cover of Invisible Monsters left something for people sitting next to me on the train wondering what the book was about, the busty chests on the cover of School for Stingers will have people doing more worrying than wondering if there’s anything else besides my monthly train pass I’ll be whipping out on the commute to or from work.

Jump to the next time I’m at my favorite place to go for lunch on a workday. The person at the register takes notice of the book I have in my hand and asks what I plan on reading in the sixty minutes I have to get my head off of work this time. “It’s The DaVinci Code,” I say, “the most heart pounding, fast moving, suspense thriller that will leave you breathing hard and gasping for air.”

Looking at my watch, I tell him that I’m actually a minute late today because I had to take care of something really quick.

I tell him, “No worries though, I’ve already got my head off of work.”

I tell him that the next fifty-nine minutes are going to be like the moment you leave work on a beautiful sunny Friday afternoon heading into a stress-free and worry-free weekend.

Nothing but pure relaxation.

I tell him to have a good rest of his day, and then I find a table for me to eat my lunch, and start reading my book with both hands clearly on the table for everyone to see.

During this post I Google'd: Venice Cafe, Chuck Palahniuk, School for Stingers, Perverts in Public

Push

One of my self mottos has always been “Push”.

The word itself has connotations of moving forward or making some type of progress, but if you actually look up the definition, there is so much more meaning:

- Ambitious drive
- To sell (another one of my mottos, “Sell or be sold” could be translated to “Push or be pushed”.)
- Strive to achieve a goal
- An effort to advance

“Push” defines who I am as a person. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that for someone who is constantly looking forward, one of the things I don’t do a whole lot of is look back. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy doing it. I just don’t do it as much as I probably should. There comes a point in time in everyone’s life where one’s memories become more important than their dreams and aspirations. That certain point in time is called a mid-life crisis, and I’m still light years away from having one of those.

That being said, given how the day of my birth coincides with the celebration of Christ’s rebirth this year, I feel that now’s a good time to reflect and look back at the path that brought me to where I am today...

...You really thought I was going to just give you the story of my life? Sucker!

Happy Easter!

Here are a couple free notable quotes to live by:

“A true champion is not necessarily defined by how much they’re admired, but instead their ability to stand up in the face of adversity.”

“If you can dream it, you can do it, and there’s no better place than here and no better time than now.”

WrestleMania 22!

What a weekend! My voice is still hoarse and my body is constantly reminding me that getting less than ten hours of sleep in the last three days is not a good idea, but it was so totally worth it. If fate is on my side, I will do it again next year, this time in Detroit, Michigan – Ford Field.

Now for some notes:

- Holy shit! Holy shit!...Ringside seats, camera side, row 6...Holy shit! Holy shit!

- From what I remember, the people that I met came from: Boston, Detroit, San Francisco, St. Louis, Alabama, Tennessee, Oregon, Wisconsin, Texas, Indiana, Florida, Louisiana, New York, Ireland, Germany, England, Scotland, Australia, New Zealand.

- You know it’s time to go to bed when it’s two in the morning and you’re outside with an Australian and an Irishmen talking about being in a river with a crocodile, and an Englishmen who kept on shouting out, “Booze” and “Broads”.

- Hey Carl, you were right: people from Tennessee skip the middle syllables of any word that has more than two, speaking only the first and last (i.e. Shelbyville is Shelville).

- WrestleMania 22 set a record as it became the largest single day event in AllState Arena history, grossing more than $2.5 million. Glad to know that my $1,400 travel package, $60 jersey, $40 hooded jacket, $30 long sleeve t-shirt, two $25 short sleeve t-shirts, $20 program, $20 hat, $10 dog tag, and $5 ticket holder was all part of history in the making.

- When was the last time you shouted and screamed for joy? Seeing where I was sitting after a 402 day journey was a bittersweet ending. I felt like Frodo Baggins winning the WWE World Heavyweight Title.

- A few rows ahead were two people that kept on pissing people off because their Israeli flag was blocking people’s views. Why do “those people” always have to be in other people’s business? Dumb Jews...

- The WrestleMania 22 DVD comes out May 23. I figure since I was on TV, there's a good chance that I'll be on the DVD. If that's the case, I will be accepting bookings for autograph appearances shortly.



Click here for WrestleMania 22 album.

Eugene and Mickie James Autograph Signing

The question I asked Mickie James: So...is Trish a good kisser?

The question I should have asked Mickie James: So...what was it like having your head in Trish's crotch?

Perfect Timing

First off, fuck the House of Blues! They really need to state on their tickets that no cameras are allowed in their crappy venue. What exactly is the harm? They allow drinking so that people can walk out belligerent, and before Chicago’s smoking ban went into effect, they allowed smoking so that people can come out wreaking of cigarettes, but you can’t take pictures so that you can take your sentimental mementos home? I’m never going there again.

All in all, other then spending $30 on a ticket that I didn’t use and an extra $15 to cab me to and from that shithole, I still can’t complain. Everything happens for a reason, and I guess I wasn’t meant to be there. I know because I really was meant to go to the Triple H book signing instead...because I’m special…

After being rejected at the House of Blues, I somehow managed to take the train back to my car and drive to Blooming –bufu – dale in about 30 minutes. Getting to Tower Records was a little discouraging seeing as it was 10 minutes before Trips was to arrive and there were over 200 people waiting in line for his autograph. So much for the effort…

I decided to see if I can get into the store as a shopper to at least check out his book when out of nowhere a black limo - Triple H’s limo – comes right at me and almost hits me head on. While most people would have their life flash before their eyes, all I could think of was living out one of the storylines in the career mode of Raw vs. Smackdown (that should come as no surprise - I’m also the one who fell into an ice cold river screaming “Camera!” instead of screaming for help).

Knowing that Trips was now in the area, I ran into and then around the store frantically searching for his book. No book. Like a dumbass, I was searching in the CD section and then the DVD section when I asked myself out loud why Tower Records, a place that sells music and movies, is having a book signing when the friggin store doesn’t even sell books. Someone must have heard my thought because a cashier said that the books were up at the register.

I was going to leave the store to hopelessly wait in line just so I could get back into the store within the next two hours to meet the man who slept with the boss’s daughter and is still living and living well when a store employee said that all the people in the store would have to make way for Trips. I noticed that all the people that were in the store grouped together in what looked like a line so I joined them. Another employee headed toward the door and turned the latch – the store was locked down, no one could enter, but no one could leave either. I was going to meet Triple H…and I didn’t have to wait in line!

Trips walked into the store, did a quick interview, and started the book signing. The first person was a kid in a wheelchair with his parents. The next person in line was another kid, this time with downs syndrome, and was also with his parents. After realizing that the first two kids were “special,” I began to notice the 10 other people who were in front of me – they were either kids with disabilities or the parents of these kids. I also noticed that all of them were wearing green wristbands. To make matters worse, I was the only one not decked out in wrestling apparel, which made me stick out even more like a tall Asian Filipino.

When I finally got to Triple H, he shook my hand and gave me a funny look. It was like he was trying to figure out what was wrong with me, the thing that made me “special.” It didn’t take very much thought because as he was signing my book, the only thing I said to him was, “Hello Mr. H.” I felt really, really special at that moment.

Oh well, it beats having to wait in line for hours.

Tyson Tomko and Trevor Murdoch Autograph Signing

Candice Michelle Autograph Signing

WWE Diva, Godaddy girl and April 2006 Playboy cover person Candice Michelle at the Virgin Music autograph signing.

What WrestleMania Means to Me

In a way somewhat similar to how the television show “24” began each episode in their first season,

My name is Erwin, and this week will be one of the most memorable weeks of my life.

Like “24,” the twists, the turns, and the buildup that have occurred throughout the past WWE calendar year will finally reach its climax this Sunday in the pinnacle of professional sports entertainment…WrestleMania!

“Wrestling is fake. Wrestling is scripted. Why would you spend all that money to see that shit?”

Why? Because going to WrestleMania has been a childhood dream of mine since I was seven years old. To all you haters out there, when was the last time you had an opportunity to achieve something that you really wanted since you were a kid? I’ll tell it like it is: If everyone lived out their childhood dream, there’d be a hell of a lot more doctors and astronauts than there are today.

WrestleMania is where bitter feuds come to an end, while the seeds for even greater battles are being planted. In some cases, WrestleMania is where good finally triumphs and overcomes the obstacles that have been in its way. It took Hulk Hogan several tries to body slam Andre the Giant at WrestleMania III in Detroit, Michigan in 1987, and with every attempt that passed, all 90,000+ people in the Pontiac Silverdome were asking themselves whether or not the irresistible force could really defeat the immovable object.

Watching the body slam seen around the world on WGN news later that night, that’s when I knew I wanted to be there.

I had a chance to live out my childhood dream, going to my first WrestleMania four years ago in Seattle. It was an experience being in a baseball stadium with close to 50,000+ wrestling fans, many of whom die-hard like me. In the airports to and from Seattle, I met people from London, Germany, Australia and Japan. I met people from the States that lived out east in New York and out west in Hawaii. This Sunday, over 15,000 people from 16 countries and 41 states will pack the AllState Arena and more than 90 countries will watch the grand daddy of them all. How many single day events are out there that are truly global in nature? There’s only one that comes to mind: WrestleMania.





This WrestleMania will be just as memorable as my first but for completely different reasons. One, this year’s WrestleMania is in my home city, Chicago! Two, I’ll be sitting ringside! And three, when WrestleMania is finally upon us, the 402 day road to WrestleMania that began on February 24th, 2005 will come to a bittersweet end. Aside from getting married, I can’t think of another reason why anyone would countdown that number of days for anything else.

On that day, I know there will be a moment where I take a step back like I did at my first WrestleMania four years ago, and it’ll finally hit – I did it. I’m at WrestleMania!

I may not have the opportunity to main event for the world heavyweight title, but being there live and witnessing the matches between those who can is enough of a championship win for me.


We are all mortals. Our bodies, though strong, cannot defy time. One day, we will die... What matters most is the legacy we leave behind....

Did we become all that we are capable of becoming?

Did we make the difference we came here to make?

Did we pursue our dreams when all around us thought we were chasing illusions?

Only those who dare to rise are able to lift themselves above horizons...

Only those bold enough to chase dreams are the ones who catch them...

WrestleMania: The Showcase of the Immortals

A Chance to Rewrite History

Around this time in March of 2003, I was counting down the days until my very first trip to Seattle, where I would be living a childhood dream and attending my first ever WrestleMania. At the same time, I was torn apart and stressed out about the job situation, having to choose between two great companies knowing that I would be burning bridges with one to go to the other.

Flash forward to present day March 2006: Three years and so many frequent flyer miles that I’ve earned a free trip to anywhere in the United States later, I embark on another weekend trip to Seattle. In 23 days, I will be living that childhood dream again by attending my second WrestleMania which I truly believe will be just as memorable as the first not only because it is happening in the best city in the world, CHICAGO (cheap Mick Foley pop), but also because I’ll be sitting ringside at the big event, the pinnacle in sports entertainment.

As the joy and excitement has been building, however, so has the stress and anxiety about my current job situation. Again, I am faced with the choice of working for either of two great companies knowing that the announcement will surely burn a bridge with one of those companies.

Notice the eerie similarities?

While I’m pretty good at not second guessing my own decisions, when it comes to the choice I made between the two jobs three years ago, I can’t help but ask myself more and more, “What if I chose the other job instead?”

By no means do I regret the decision I made. Working for the largest private company in the world is a pretty smart choice (but then again, working for one of the top Fortune 500 companies would have sounded good as well). And if it wasn’t for the place where I worked, I wouldn’t have met so many people who are now my friends even after the sad events that took place in the later part of last year.

Although the more I think of the order of those events, from the announcement to the eventual demise, I still can’t help but ask myself if I had made the right choice. Would my situation now be any different if I had chosen the other job? Hopefully that question will go away with my acceptance of an offer at the new job that I will start on Monday. After three plus years of wondering “What if,” I finally get a chance to see what the other path would have been like, and I definitely plan on making the most of that opportunity.

WrestleMania 22: The Home Stretch

30 Days Away...

What happened 371 days ago? Relive the announcement...Relive the excitement....

Click here to read the announcement that marked the official beginning of the Road to WrestleMania 22 journey.

Booger

After a week of waking up in the morning with a bloody nose, I’ve come to the realization that I need a humidifier in my bedroom. Here’s my deductive reasoning:

-I’m too accident prone to keep a blade somewhere near my bed just in case I want to snort up any white powder I don’t have in my sleep.

-My fingers are free of blood which means that in my sleep I wasn’t thinking of inserting (two finger quotes) an appendage into (two finger quotes) a small orifice and proceeding to (two finger quotes) rip it apart...which in turn means that I wasn’t picking my nose you sick, sick perverts! Seriously, besides Carl, whose freaking penis fits inside someone’s nostril?

-As a result of the warm, dry air generated by my heater, my nasal membranes must be drying out and cracking.

I hate to admit it, but the dry (no pun intended) and boring answer is the most logical one.

If I needed another reason to purchase a humidifier, I got one today. I was in a meeting going over some paperwork when the person I was meeting with slid a sheet of paper in front me. As my attention shifted from the person to the sheet of paper, I effortlessly breathed out a nice noticeable crusty crimson red booger that had a little piece of nose hair in it.

If this meeting were between Batman and Robin, Robin would have said, “Holy hairy bloody booger, Batman!”

To make matters worse, when the nose crusty rocketed out, it just didn’t hit the table and stay there; the thing skipped like a rock hitting water onto the sheet of paper which both of us was now staring at. And even worse than that, the booger was on her half of the table, and since we were going over this sheet together, I couldn’t just grab the sheet to wipe the booger off.

So the colorful textured booger stayed on the plain white sheet of paper for the rest of the meeting.

...Rack up another awkward Erwin moment provided by yours truly.

Happy Hallmark Holiday!

Lyrics from You and Me by Lifehouse:

What day is it
And in what month
This clock never seemed so alive
I can't keep up and I can't back down
I've been losing so much time

Cause it's you and me and all of the people
With nothing to do, nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all of the people and
I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you

All of the things that I want to say
Just aren't coming out right
I'm tripping on words, you got my head spinning
I don't know where to go from here

Cause it's you and me and all of the people
With nothing to do, nothing to prove
And it's you and me and all of the people and
I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off you

Something about you now
I can't quite figure out
Everything she does is beautiful
Everything she does is right

Cause it's you and me and all of the people
With nothing to do, nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all of the people and
I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of

You and me and all of the people
With nothing to do, nothing to prove and
It's you and me and all of the people and
I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you

What day is it
And in what month
This clock never seemed so alive

Happy Valentine's Day...

-Do not send flowers to anywhere in Washington state. After two years of sending flowers (or at least attempting to) on Valentine's Day, the only one who gets surprised always seems to be me:

Me: So...did you get anything today?
The Chosen One: Nope.
Me: What! Nothing in the mail or on front of the door???
TCO: Nope.
Me: (in my head) Awwwww, (madlib), son of a (madlib), piece of (madlib), not again
Me: (out loud) Ummm, ok. I'll talk to you later.
Me: (in my head) Heads are going to roll...

I digress...I think TV should replace the "bleep" sound with the voice of the guy that you always seem to hear in movie trailers saying "madlib". With bleeps you know it's gonna be some fucking ass shitty bitch swear word. By saying, "madlib" it makes for more interactive TV.

-Before I go any further, Valentine's Day is indeed a Jewish Hallmark holiday. It's just another way to line the pockets of those money grubbing Hallmark bastards. The only reason why I recognize Valentine's Day is, well, I believe in the Holocaust. Wait...before I get e-mails from durkah durkah organizations to join their terrorist cells, let me clarify...I believe that the Holocaust did happen. However, I do not believe that all those people should have been killed. Just some.

-When I was looking for a card, there was this guy also looking for a card. While I was looking carefully and reading what each said for the perfect one, this guy looked at a few card covers, made a seemingly hasty choice and walked off to the register. I do not have a wedding band around my finger; he did. Is there a rule out there in the guys' handbook that states that if a presumably married man is in the act of purchasing a Valentine's Day card that was selected in the section where the card recipient is a man (specifically, "Love: For My Husband"), that another man should warn him to at least take a look at the card to make sure that it's appropriate? Heh, in this day and age, you never know...

-What's worse than spending Valentine's Day alone? Spending it with your parents. In a casino. And listening to them talk about slot machines like they're people. (Example: "The slot machines don't give you anything until 9 PM because there aren't enough people who give them money before then")...Thanks for the enlightenment, I get it now. You give the slot machine enough money, and at night it gives you something back. And I take it that when it gives you something back, you're very excited and happy. Wait a minute...are we talking about slots? Because this sounds more like we're talking about sluts.

-About the card I picked out...I guess Hallmark did some card analysis and there's one card in particular that was picked out the most in different cities around the country. It was the same card I picked out! After spending a good 30 minutes looking at cards, it was like they knew what I was gonna pick all along. It's kinda like that number game where you pick a number and then you add a number to it and then multiply it by some factor, then subtract a number, how everyone ends up with the same number. David Copperfield's Jewish, maybe it's like magic.

Camera!

Karma’s a bitch. Case in point:

After a night of Super Bowl celebrating three years ago, a drunken Carl tripped over himself on the way back to the car. Clumsy Carl…

Bar hopping on President’s Day two years ago, Eric lost his balance and also tripped over himself. Silly Eric…

Last year was supposed to be my turn to trip and fall, but nothing happened. For some reason, I was spared. Or was I?

Karma’s a bitch. And Karma will eventually make you its bitch. And Karma will call you Susie in the process of bitchification (I digress…Or is it bitchisynthesis? No, bitchisynthesis is the onset of menstruation when women go from plain crazy to psycho nuts).

What goes around does indeed come around, and if it doesn’t come right away, be afraid…be very afraid…because all The Powers That Be are doing is stroking themselves a few more times for an even greater money shot between the eyes, your eyes, all for the sake of some divine shits and giggles at your expense.

Karma’s a bitch. Trust me. I now know.

It’s the morning of Super Bowl Sunday, and Carl, Eric and I go fishing. Even though the sun’s out, it’s still February and it’s freaking cold. The river where we are to go fishing is higher than normal, and because of that, we get from one side of land to the other by crossing on a fallen tree trunk.

This is not where I fall. One Power That Be must have told another Power That Be to stroke slower for the time being…

We all cross safely, and a few yards up ahead, Carl says to head to higher ground because the muddy river bank is too slippery to walk through. But in my case, his advice was too little, too late.

Karma’s a bitch. And here comes the money shot…

Kerplunk.



Like the giant turd you dropped this morning from last night’s bean burrito dinner, I slipped on the muddy bank and fell into the river. From the shoulders down, I was submerged under ice cold water. From the neck up, I was feeling the frigid weather more than ever. I don’t know about all those levels that Dante’s hell had, but I do know that there are at least two levels of hell in Tennessee.

Karma’s a bitch. And at the moment, Carl and Eric are its best friends.

This is where the comedy begins…

As soon as I hit the water, I was thinking about the piece of expensive gadgetry around my neck, my non-waterproof 30X zoom digital camera. While most people in freezing waters would scream, “Help!” I couldn’t help but scream, “Camera!”

And being the good friends and quick thinkers that they are, Carl and Eric turned around, saw me in the water, and…grabbed my hand their cameras and started taking pictures of me struggling in the water to get out. I yelled, “Camera!” again, this time raising it up so that Carl and Eric saw it and would hopefully understand to take it up to higher ground. Instead, Eric reached for my camera and tried to take pictures of me with it still in the river trying to get out. It wasn’t until I yelled, “I can’t feel my nuts,” when they finally tried to get me out. I guess a man’s life isn’t in danger until his manhood is being threatened.

Yet another memorable Carl, Eric and Erwin Three Amigo moment…

Super Bowl celebration at The Playing Field


BTW - my camera no longer works. Help me preserve the good times through taking pictures by donating to the Erwin Needs a New Camera Drive by clicking the button on the right. Thanks for your generosity!

Three Amigos in Tennessee: Day Two

Jack Daniels Tour in the morning



Three Men and a Baby in the afternoon


Some observations:

-Carl's bare ass in your face will get anyone in a coma out of bed

-You can't make good French toast from wheat bread. At least Eric can't

-Tennessee mountain men are direct descendants of Gimli from Lord of the Rings

-There's always at least one German tourist on the Jack Daniels tour

-Bringing a baby into a Tennessee restaraunt attracts nothing but the ugliest women Tennessee has to offer

-Chess pie is good. Too bad no one in the entire state of Tennessee knows what's in it

-Number of people who invited us to their grandma's for dinner in one restaraunt sitting: 2

-Using restarunt road rules type rules, what movie do three flaming hetro's randomly choose from Carl's library? Highway Men

-To stink up a car, ask Eric to fart. To stink up a shirt that someone's wearing, ask Carl to fart. To have an entire floor of a house rebuilt - that's my alley

For pics of the entire trip, click here.

Three Amigos Invade Nashville

I put the "TWANG" in country...


...While Tim McGraw's trying to put the twang in me


The Beer Sellar, 99 different beers and we only tried 3


Our Hooters server, Shana. Shana Fact: She's celibant


Me and Eric on the corner of Gay St and Church St


Nashville Kats arena football home opener

Gay or Not Gay?

Princess Dushku-Bubby's birthday princess coronation at Calo:

The Baby

Why it that even though the baby has a name, the baby is still referred to as "the baby"?

Example: Carl, it's your turn to feed the baby. Wake your queer ass up you fat pig!

Other observations while in Tennessee:

*I never thought that throwing your own garbage out in the neighborhood trash compactor could be so much fun.

*In addition to people who can't brake properly, people who talk non-stop also makes me car sick.

The Story of a Missing Friend

Wow, I never thought that the Dumbass of the Year would be found within the first ten days of the new year, but he was found as a missing Edmond caused a few of his friends to celebrate worry about his whereabouts. Luckily, everything turned out OK and I could now make a movie on his harrowing saga...

It's a cold and cloudy Sunday afternoon, an ominous day for a hockey playoff game. Edmond, the hockey team's token Albanian, leaves for the game when he sees two girls:

"How about a pre-game warm-up?"



"Oh crap, I think I dislocated my knee."



"It's the Boogeyman, and I'm comin' to get 'cha."



"Yeah, my knee's really dislocated now."


Don't Ditch Your Hockey Team For Some Play

Coming to a theater near you.