uneducated guesses

To be fair, I had drank alcohol once or twice before this story happened, but this was the first time I got drunk. Like twisted. On an official visit to a state school (no big deal, I was being recruited HARD as a college athlete), I had about four cups of beer from the keg. Such a weird environment. It was one of those townhouses where they had the keg in the shower and there were about 20 more people than should have been in the house. But I did not actually get drunk.

Anyway, the first time I actually got drunk was on Senior Week. I wasn’t allowed to go to the actual Senior Week, which is when everyone goes to Ocean City and gets shit-faced and sunburnt for seven days. I was able to convince my mom to let me go with my best friend for two days to Rehobeth (I’ve been told this is the gay beach, I cannot confirm nor deny). Another fun twist was that we were actually staying in my buddy’s family friend’s place (70-year-old lady, who was in fact home at the time) about 45 minutes from the beach. Not the most ideal scenario.

The night before we departed, I had no booze and was on the prowl for the elixir of life. I was hanging out with a bunch of friends who were juniors and I jokingly mentioned, “hey, I’m going to senior week tomorrow if anyone has any booze!” One of the guys said he had some rum. I asked how much for it, and I ended up paying $10 for a water bottle of Admiral Nelson rum.

It literally smelled like gasoline and was a dark brown color. My heart was racing as I hid the bottle in my underwear drawer until the next day. Mom didn’t find out and the time came to go to the beach.

After spending most of the day on the beach, we visited our other friends that were in town at a town house a few blocks away. I lost multiple games of KanJam and ended up running into my arch enemy from high school. I lost to this kid at least seven times in my wrestling career and he was staying in the same goddamn house that I was getting drunk at. He was dating a girl that was best friends with the people we were visiting. Confusing, I know, but stay with me.

It’s about 7 pm and I am chomping at the bit like a hungry shark. I decide to be the first person to start drinking. The weirdest part was that a table full of girls were watching me consume my first mixed drinks ever. I pour the lighter fluid into a red solo cup and pour a little bit of Coke in as a mixer. Why didn’t any of the experienced drinkers tell me how to make an actual mixed drink? The world may never know. I also mixed Orange Crush with this rum. Verdict: not great.

I drank about half the water bottle and I was off my rocker. I was twisted and causing a ruckus. There were glowsticks all around and a few of them ended up around my neck. I called my soon-to-be girlfriend several times. I hid in the blinds. I hid in someone’s room upstairs. They took my water bottle away and also tried to take my phone away. They thought I was going to call my mom. C’mon, I’m not that much of an idiot.

My best friend, who took the water bottle away from me, decided to drink it himself, getting very drunk and causing mayhem himself. Luckily, we had another person in our crew who decided to stay responsible. I fell asleep on the 45-minute car ride back to our lodging but I had to be on my best behavior because the fucking 70-year-old lady was somehow still up when we got back. She suspected nothing and I slept like a log that night.

And that’s the story of my first time drinking.

-tomfoolery was here

Look. There are a ton of problems in this world. Crocs, Toe Shoes, and un-ironic cowboy hats are the main ones that come to my mind. But the one thing that the Northeast Elitists seem to oppose the most is the combo 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner. And I simply refuse to allow this slander to continue.

In the same vein as khaki shorts (which are simply the most logical trouser when the weather gets warmer, people forget about how useful the pockets actually are), 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner seems to be universally hated by women. But there are many reasons why this hatred is unwarranted.

1. Cost – merely the most cost-efficient and effective hair product. 2 for the price of 1, and the family size bottle that my mom bought me yesterday will last about two months and only cost $3. More money for me to buy the special at the local dive bar for my Tinder date.
2. Color/Smell – It’s blue, which happens to be my favorite color. It also smells like the ocean, which is a nice touch.
3. Purpose – The percentage of young men in the age 18-34 demographic that actually care about their hair is not high enough to warrant any hair product other than the esteemed 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner

This wasn’t a blog. This was an ad for Suave Men 2-in-1 Ocean Charge Shampoo/Conditioner. Sponsor the blog, pls.

-tomfoolery was here

So I went 2-2 on my first Uneducated Guesses in the gambling world. I knew the Blazers were going to win, but I thought the Raptors were going to dominate the Sixers and they needed a miracle from Kawhi to move onto the Eastern Conference Finals. The under hit in both games, I should’ve known that things were going to tighten up in a Game 7. Oh well. We’ll get them next time.

This is the worst time of the night for me. I don’t have to wake up early tomorrow morning, but I cannot go to sleep yet. I’m just killing time until I’m ready to sleep. It’s a weird spot to be in. This is where I don’t know how to be an adult.

I want to read books. I feel like reading a book is a great way to exercise the mind. Right now, I just listen to podcasts and scroll my phone all day. Pretty sure my brain is mush. I read about eight chapters of a book in the fall and I haven’t opened it since. It’s such a weird concept to re-adjust to, this idea of reading for pleasure. I’ve spent the first 23 years of my life reading for a grade. I think I still need to take notes though because otherwise I would never retain any of the information.

Tomorrow begins my real summer. I’ve dubbed it the summer of Tommy. I’m going to read, write, walk, generally make myself a better person. Let’s go.

-tomfoolery was here.

It is the now the year of our lord, 2019, and thanks to the big whigs over in Silicon Valley billions of people across the world have access to the inter webs with a click of their sweaty, Cheeto dust crusted finger. Thanks to them, as well as generation X parents doing a questionable job rearing children for the last 30 years or so, every person now has a voice that they feel needs to be heard.

Self gratification is the name of the game, and for those who aren’t able to find it within themselves (thanks mom and dad) it’s quite convenient to search for it from strangers behind a screen all across the world. Do I know what I’m doing with my life? Of course not. Do I know the first thing about writing a blog? Sure don’t. Is that the perfect recipe for some uneducated guesses? You bet it is.

So here we go, welcome to the fucking jungle. We’re gonna be learning as we go, so bear with me through the trials and tribulations of finding the ole blog voice. But if ya decide to stick around, I promise it’ll be worth your while. As a wise man once said, “They laughed at Louis Armstrong when he said he was gonna go to the moon. Now he’s up there, laughing at them.”

-Danny Phantom

This should be a universally-accepted concept, but the olds have unfortunately ruined something else. Are we surprised?

When you go out to eat, you enter into an unspoken agreement as the customer. They’ll probably fuck up your order, or it won’t be the right temperature, or something else will go wrong. As a customer, your unspoken agreement and unwritten social contract states that you can’t take your food back because that’s just the way it goes.

As a piece of shit who has chosen not to cook or eat at home, you simply must be okay with your food being exactly the way you want it only about 68% of the time. The remaining percentage is your tax for not being willing to cook your own dinner.

I was raised in a house hold where my mom always sent shit back and I always just tucked my tail and said my food was fine every single time. When the waiter asks how everything is, if you say anything besides “fine” or “good,” you’re just being a pompous asshole. By not sending food back, you become more satisfied when the food actually comes out right. It’s important to have gratitude every now and then.

The same rules go for tipping. There’s pretty much no reason to not give a 15-20% tip because I feel like most of the time when shit goes wrong, it’s the kitchen’s fault.

-tomfoolery was here