Articles Archive for 21 January 2005

technical difficulties
21 Jan 2005
[For some reason, the ending of the post below just ain't showing up, so I've added it here.  And yes, Brendan, our official sitemaster, is fired.  Send him some hate mail at Brendan@jasonmulgrew.com.]
 
All I ask for is that you think of me this weekend.  Know that from 3pm to 6pm (est), I will be living and dying with every minute.  Psychically send me some good wishes, and hope that if things don’t turn out the way I want them to, I don’t start punching everyone and everything around me.  And hope that if things do turn out the way I want them to, I don’t go one a four-day binge and lose my job.  Unless in the course of said binge I get laid.  Because then it’d probably be worth it.
 
So have a good weekend.  Go out, have a good time, get messed up, and pray to God that when Monday morning comes I’m not in jail. 
 
[Well, actually, don't pray to God - I don't want Him getting any props until He apologies for stealing my car.  Asshole.]
sports, love, and longing: a tale of poo, from the first person
21 Jan 2005
I don’t know how I feel about making NFL predictions, because it’s just too close to home now.  For the fourth year in a row, my hometown team, the Philadelphia Eagles, are within one game of going to the Super Bowl – if they win, they’re in.  In the previous three years, they have gone 0 for 3 in this game, despite being heavily favored in the last two.  After their first loss, I said, “Well, I’m glad that they got there.”  After their second loss, I said, ”That blows – big time.  But there’s always next year.”  After last year’s loss, I said, “Well there’s only one thing to do now: cut my dick off with a plastic butterknife.”  Fortunately for my penis, the butterknife was covered in carrot cake and was thus unable to break skin.  Also, I couldn’t find my dick, so I just jabbed my lower stomach a few times.  And then I went and ate a whole fucking carrot cake.  And a meatball sub.  And a can of icing.  But I digress…
 
For these reasons, I’m not going to make any NFL predictions for this week’s playoffs games.  I conferred with several buddies of mine, also Eagles fans, and we mutually decided that I should not write anything about the games, lest I contribute in any way to a loss.  I know what you’re thinking, “I’m sure he can find his penis if he looks hard enough.”  But, really, I can’t.  You’re welcome to have a look if you so desire, but god I hope you don’t so desire.  But if you do venture down there, I think I left an onion ring somewhere down there from a Halloween party I went to in ’99.  If you see it, can you grab it for me?  Thanks.
 
You may also be thinking, “How can he contribute to an Eagles’ loss?”  I don’t know specifically how I can contribute to an Eagles’ loss, but I do know that anyone or anything associated with me is on the wrong side of karma.  God and I have been notoriously feuding for years, and I’m sure that He’ll take this Sunday’s Eagles game as another opportunity to “score one off Mulgrew.”  All this because I got drunk once and called Him a card cheat and hit Him with a tree branch, and we’ve been going back and forth for years now.   
 
To be perfectly honest, I really, really need the Eagles to win.  Not want, but need.  I don’t care if they then get slaughtered in the Super Bowl (lie), but I really, really need them to win.  I’ve written this before, but Philadelphia has the longest championship drought of any city in the US with all four professional sports teams – by far.  The last championship: 1983, won by the Philadelphia 76ers.  I was 4 years old at the time, and though I had just begun experimenting with meth, I didn’t understand the importance of sports and winning championships.
 
But before I get ahead of myself and start talking about how a championship would personally change my life, I have to get back to this game, which we (the Eagles and I) have to win to even get to the Super Bowl.  I don’t have a whole lot going on right now, and an Eagles victory this week would mean the world to me, and fundamentally change me as a person.  I might even stop telling everyone that I do not have herpes and tell them the truth (that I have eight different kinds of herpes – Thailand 2001: best. trip. ever.).  I’d even possibly stop spreading all those lies about my buddy Kyle, specifically how he masturbates to music (jazz, but Brian McKnight also does the trick) and likes to wear a clown suit when he has sex. 
 
So I have very little for you right now.  I’m feeling kinda sick, partially because of the game, but partially because I forgot to put my contacts in this morning, so for lunch I had some frozen yogurt with staples on top, thinking they were sprinkles.
 
I’m antsy; I don’t know if I wanna go home and go to sleep, or go home and get high, or go home and start boozing.  It’ll probably be a mix of all three, especially since we have some amazing weed.  Last night, my roommate Brian and I smoked and stayed up until 4am trying to build a sexy robot out of our X-Box, some hair gel, a few raw pieces of chicken breast, aluminum foil, and a turtle, but we found out eventually that we stink at building sexy female robots.  Also, Brian killed the turtle because he thought he said something about his mother.  Serves him right – that turtle was a dick anyway. 
 
And I’m tired, and needy.  I don’t ask for much, but I’d really like to have an Eagles’ win.  So bad.  So, so bad.  
 
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