Live by the watermelon, die by the watermelon.

This ficticious, in no way PC, but totally based upon actual events is meant to illustrate two things:

So my friend Marvin gives me a call and wants me to come over to check out this new fried chicken recipe his momma’s momma gave him. Being the cool brother I am, I hoped in my Caddy and was right on over. Of course not before I stopped off at the corner store to get some of that fine malt liquor and gin & juice everyone adores so much. When I arrived Marvin and Big Willy were in the middle of a heated game of dominoes, while Little Willy was shooting some hoops with Condi from down the block.


Man, the scene was all set. Laid out before us, was the biggest gosh-darned feast I’ve seen north of the Mason-Dixon. And Marvin’s mamma’s mamma’s recipe for fried chicken was spicy, nice and spicy just the way everyone likes it. Went perfectly with some of that fine cornbread stuffing and collard greens we gots up here. Anyways after polishing the rest of malt liquor, us gentlemen decided to relax over some grape soda. Damn that was one perfect night, save for dessert. We had some nasty-ass watermelon. Not ripe at all.

1) No one wins when stereotypes are involved.
2) Bad watermelon is dee-friggin-gustin.

To paraphrase my boy Jason, “This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Your whole day is based upon the sweet, juicy nectar that only seasonal summer melon can provide. And just like that, the biggest disappointment of your life, this time with the bitter, bitter taste of stale nothing in your mouth happens.”

And to think I even shopped organic. Damn, melon like that makes you not want to get up in the morning.

What did I do?

I think I know what it feels like to put your only child up for adoption.

Of all the things I've done for a fantasy title this ranks right up there. But it was the right move and a necessary move. And god-willing a title-making move.

Literally my boy is gone. On my own volition. Good bye Jonathan Papelbon. You were the reason I've been staying up late for the West coast finales. I even have your friggin t-shirt! Hopefully you remain the most dominant closer for years to come. Inversely, hopefully selling you off for that much needed bat (and filling a hole at SS) and starting pitching depth will be worth it. Only time will tell.

Section 5, Row 24, Seat 4 - I love this game!

Being young, single and working a steady job only means one thing: disposable income.

While I'm don't drive the flashiest car , the size of my TV impresses no one, God-forbid I actually live with roommates and my dreams of owning a shiny red scooter, a PSP and whisking away on vacation don't seem to be in the immediate future, there's one thing that I do own: Boston Celtics season tickets. Yeah that's right. I've earned it and I deserve it. And I'm going to wear my green headband 41 (43 with preseason) games a year.

I don't think the Green will be contending for a title this season or even the next, but 1) they will be a fun team to watch/grow and 2) I do think they will by 08. A three-year commitment? Hardly. The way I see it, it's a year by year thing and hopefully that when they are going for banner #17 I'll have my hands on one of the hottest tickets in town.

In the meantime I've got plans to see the Truth, Big Al, Bassy and Delonte (AI maybe???), not to mention visits by D Wade/the Diesel, LeBron, Dirk, Kobe, my boy Yao, et al.

So yeah I'm a fan of NBA basketball. Sue me bitches.

Bosco

My work email has been prompting me to change my network login password for the past two weeks. Of course I’ve been ignoring it because frankly having to change my password every four months is annoying. Every four months and it cannot contain my first name, last name or any numbers from my social. OK simple enough, I’ve got a stable of go-to passwords for just such occasions.

But this time the password gods weren’t in a very forgiving mood and enacted a new Kerbos-based password requirement. You know the drill: your password must contain at least 7 characters and no more than 21, consisting of uppercase letters, lowercase letters, numerals AND special characters (#, $, &, etc.) Good god man!

The last time I had such a convoluted password was back at school where enrolling for classes meant I had to remember a combination of the girl I had a crush on/where I was born/my favorite hockey player’s number/my initials. Frankly that’s not going to fly at work. Actually what I came up with (after 9 unsuccessful tries) was something much worse because now checking my email is roughly the equivalent of accessing the nuclear codes.

It's not the heat it's the humidity...

And other heatstroke-related idioms brought to you by global warming.

Ah well I guess that's why god invented air condition and popsicles. On the bright side it was the perfect beach day. As any South Shore boy was, I was raised on a steady stream of Horseneck Beach and when I was feeling particularly adventuresome Newport was the destination. Of course moving to the city the closest beach (and I use that term loosely) is Carson Beach, located in scenic Dorchester. You know the beaches that were closed a few years back for medical waste washing up on shore. Don't let the pics fool you; this conversation with The Jule last year pretty much sums it up.

Setting: A post-swim stroll
Her: Hey that looks like sea glass.
Me: [Upon closer inspection] No Jule, that's actual glass. Looks like a Corona.

We got a late start, but today we ended up north of Boston at Nahant. It was all good as the $3 parking, Cape Cod chips and sammiches made up for the detorious* route we took. The results: a much cooler afternoon, a little sun & surf and being able to fall asleep with that warm, wavy feeling.

Capped the night off with some excellent chicken and shrimp skewers at Miracle of Science. Good food, good beer...cheap: QuansWorld approved!

*Triple bonus-make up my own word score!

Not even a night spent on 95 South only to face the inevitable throngs of pedestrian traffic could prevent me from enjoying a lovely evening along Providence's Water Place Park. What does this mean exactly? Well it was my WaterFire deflowering.

Combining the music, performance, boats and the key element of fire, WaterFire is a pretty cool deal. Ignore the sounds of police sirens and the glow from the Dave & Busters neon sign and you are transported to an ancient city, where roads have been replaced by waterways (Venice to mind or at least the Venetian) and live music floats through the city streets. The entire city was bathed in the amber glow of floating bonfires. And with the everpresent campfire-esque smell of smoldering wood and a stream minstrels playing, fire-jugglers juggling fire and the-oh-so mysterious man in white handing out red roses, the entire night had a very dreamy feel. And the company was rather nice. The night started with a sushi dinner on tatami mats and capped with fried dough on a Jersey barrier. All in all a pretty nice night.

There's plenty of fish in the sea

R. I. P. Moby aka Snax
2005 -2006

Hoop Dreams

The way I see it when it comes to balling is that I'm just as bad as every "good player" I ever play against compared to an actual good player. You know someone like Dwayne Wade, Steve Nash or even Luc Longely. So quite simply, to the dude with the pony tail and head band, "I own you!" And the 5'4" Iverson-wannabe, "Get that shit outta here!"

I'll rock my Yao XL replica, my matching addidas head-/sweat- bands and my Hurraches 2K5's all morning, all day, all night long. Dude it's it's been an above the rim, headband wearing, free throw shooting, trash talking, Van Exel crossing jam packed week of bball for me.

Tipped things off with a viewing of Hoop Dreams Criterion Edition followed by a diet coke. The next day motivation struck and some actual ball was played. I don't know what was worse dragging my fat but during full-court 5 on 5 or ending up guarding the dude without a shirt.

Later on that night I challenged my roommate's little bro to a game of H-O-R-S-E and after letting him win. I felt bad for the little guy (he's 9 and she out galavating at strip clubs with her dad.) And tonight I ended things off with a viewing of the WNBA All-Star Game Through the Fire, ESPN's documentary about NYC HS legend turn Celts latest PG, Sebastian Telfair.

Homecookin'

As many of you know my dad is a butcher and I have been battling a cold/crazy busy of late. So when the perfect storm of having a free Saturday night and those two heavenly words appear, there's no question I'm heading home.

PRIME RIB

So when my dad asks me if I want him to pick something up for me, I say, "Sure!" Without question he comes through in the clutch. Prime rib, filet mignon, babyback ribs. "Surprise me dad."

Mmmmm.... I love food.

You what?

That's right, I shaved my head.

Pros:

• I love rubbing the back od my head. What? Guys who stroke their goatees while being contemplative are just the same. Incidentally I love walking on faux mini-golf grass in my bare feet.
• Random girls at work come up to me and ask to rub my head
• I save money on shampoo.
• Whenever I need to defend someone's honor, my scissor kick-to-ridge hand-to-flying headbutt combo is that much more deadly. I am so Shaolin right now.

Cons:

• I miss out on buying new gels, pastes, sprays, creams, etc.
• My head appears even rounder then before. Round as a chili bowl in fact.

So there you have it. My year long decision to grow out my long locks anime-style has come to an end. It was a valiant effort, but with the excess heat/humidity something had to go. Plus the extra time spent applying various product in the morning was getting to be a such a drag.

So where have you been all my life?

If a savior like return is good enough for one Rocket Roger Clemens and a favored son coming home return for Pedro Martinez then who am I to deny the denizens of QuansWorld their rightful content. After much clamoring the Quan has come back to the Blogosphere.

Wow, that was a pretty much ado about something intro and frankly I don't think I'll be able to live up to it. But here goes: I've been wicked busy and there have been lots of changes in my life. Sure I could detail everything since my last post, but the Cliff Notes version of things of late is:

• My new promotion has been hella sweet
• I got a new roommate who is nary around
• I joined (not actively attend mind you, but simply joined) a gym
• Been abusing fiction/nonfiction like I'm Brett Myers
  
• Being a soccer fan. Fast Deutschland, fast...
• Shaved my head
• I joined Netflix. 4 movies (2 at a time) in a week bitches! It's been 80+ with the humidty projecting at a constant muggy to sweltering for the better part of the last 3 weeks, so what else is a boy supposed to do?
  

So with summer in full effect it's time to document all the various dimes up in my piece, attempt to achieve Kobayashi style and dust off my Kerouac and hit the road.

For those of you new to QuansWorld courtesy of myspace.com welcome to show.