Polticians + Lip-Sync = HILARIOUS

Funny Stuff.

SPAM!!!!!!

Gentle Bloggers,

It has finally happened. Our dear blog has been, for a lack of a better word, infiltrated by the "enlarge your penis spam" we have all come to know in our emails:

rickybollinger said...

cool blog.

men last longer
how do i last longer

Who is rickybollinger might as well be called....I sell penis pills by putting up comments on other people's blogs. His comment had nothing to do with senior Ted's insightful post, yet his message is a question we as men all yearn to answer.

Do we stand for this?

Do we embrace the new-found marketing potential of our blog? (monetize)

Do we write the company a "wash cup" type letter?

Do we buy the pills and grow super large penis's and achieve incredible sexual stamina?

These questions, much like the pills Mr. Bollinger wants us to buy, certainly should "perk" your interest.

The cost of everything

This is cool.

Haven't looked too closely at all of it but I think the most interesting to me was the comparison of Coca-Cola's annual marketing budget and the cost to buy (note: not the cost to make) everyone in the world a coke.  I don't really know what it means but it's interesting.

I also enjoyed the estimated net worth of J.K. Rowling had she been a rapper.

MORE WINGSUIT FUN!

BECAUSE WINGSUITS AND STUFF LIKE THIS WILL NEVER BE UNCOOL TO WATCH.

I Believe I can Fly ( flight of the frenchies). Trailer from sebastien montaz-rosset on Vimeo.

HoP Year 6.

This afternoon, around 3:45pm EST, I'm going to jump in the Georgetown pool and warm up for my 6th Hour of Power, my fourth at Georgetown.

I met Ted on 24 October 2002, I prospied on a Thursday and stayed with Ted that night. I was a prospie who was nearly sold on Carleton and Ted was an extremely excited and accommodating host. Ted alone was enough to make me come to Carleton. Ted went above and beyond the call of duty that day. Now, knowing him, is not a surprise at all. He lived in a corner triple in Burton and took me all around to meet swimmers. Flo and Kellen in Musser, sitting silently, are the only ones I remember. He showed me Caucus (ask an older than you alum if you don't know what it is), he glowed about life at Carleton, he was just generally a happy dude.

That afternoon was gender practice. The assistant coach, Tom, walked me around West Gym a little while the men were doing, no kidding, continuous relays. Except there were only three guys per lane. It looked pretty painful. Then they ran out to track and did more intense running than we ever did while I was at Carleton.

Losing Ted, like losing Joe, was (and is) one of the saddest things to happen to me in my life and a unqualified loss for humanity as a whole. They were among the sweetest, smartest men I've ever known. Ted battled a horrible scourge, and no amount of swimming will bring him back. But some amount of swimming, hopefully we've already passed this threshold, will prevent another extended family from losing one of theirs. I know how much Ted fought each and every time he swam, today, I hope you'll join me in a cathartic hour of pain, err, power to honor and remember my friend.

So, at minute 35, when your body is screaming to stop but your brain can't see the light at the end of the tunnel, tell it to EMSYDMF and go extra hard. Pain is temporary. And I'll buy a (pony) keg for anyone who swims so hard they throw up today.

BE MIGHTY!

Frustration in Russia

I'm sitting in the Domodedovo Airport in Moscow, getting ready to fly back to Ulan-Ude, and I have a few hours to kill. So, I figured I might as well blog again.

Russia is a crazy country. And Moscow is even more insane. The amount of change that I can see in Moscow over the last two years is difficult to comprehend. There are hundreds of new buildings, and many old buildings have been remade. It's even more expensive that it was 2 years ago. And much more Western. There are now Starbucks on every corner, in contrast with the 2 that were in the city 2 years ago. There are now Burger Kings and Papa John's. Service is actually friendly and good. And after living in Ulan-Ude, it's disgusting how much money is in this city. Ulan-Ude has some new buildings and nice cafes. In Moscow, every cafe has an amazing sound system and ridiculous decorations. I spend more money on a dinky meal here than on a full day of food in Ulan-Ude. The ONE part of Moscow that's as bad as in Ulan-Ude are the bathrooms. Russia just doesn't understand that bathrooms can be nice.

The hardest part of life for me is my frustration with the Russian government. It seems that all of their domestic policy is aimed at subduing and emmasculating the Russian people. Case in point: local governments have no ability to tax the populace. The local governments are 100% dependent on the federal government. The Russian government also does everything to make the people feel like they aren't being taxed at all: most of their money comes from the oil and gas industries. As such, it is very difficult for local government to fund projects, such as building new roads. Especially when other, more important parts of the infrastructure demand more urgent attention (such as the power plant in Ulan-Ude, which some predict will be out of commission as soon as 2015). I am finding myself more and more to be a supporter (this is the incorrect word, I know the right Russian word, but can't think of the English one. Good thing the GRE is coming up...) of Ulan-Ude and Buryatia. I'm helping NGOs write grant proposals and have actively supported my university's attempt to get a Fulbright English Teacher sometime in the next few years. The local populace has almost no say in their government, so as one of the few Americans aware of Buryatia, I feel some weight on my shoulders to further the cause of Buryatia. The opportunities that should be in Buryatia, and would be if the locals had any say in government, just are non-existent, and all the best and brightest leave for Moscow and beyond.

I understand why the youth want to leave Ulan-Ude. Tourism is the only industry available for an intellectual. Professors are paid dirt. But without infrastructure, tourism will always be limited. For the Republicans who want as little government as possible, they should look at the provinces of the Russian Federation. For those who also support the Patriot Act, the metaphor is even more poignant.
Well, now I'm back in Ulan-Ude, and I must say that even given the above disappointments and frustration, Buryatia is still unbelievable. As my plane started descending through the layers of clouds, the sun just began to shine over the horizon. It was one of the best sunrises I've ever seen. I took a taxi back to my apartment and chatted it up with my driver. The main theme of our conversation: the Siberian spirit.  All of a sudden, such political squabbles seemed worthless in the face of this taxi driver whose father built their family home in the mountains several decades ago and was adamant in explaining his spiritual connection with the land. Even if European Russia doesn't understand what they have out here, the local population seems more than content to have it all to themselves. Perhaps another topic to consider when asking about tourism.

Sub Blog:

OkCupid: Operation questionable intentions......No really I have no idea why I am doing this.

Day 1: Created Profile: Pleased with stupidly tacky answers that were sure to lure the sexiest women alive to my profile. Sentences like "hahah I don't know where to start" and "Let's see; what to put here" were painted across my profile like so many images on this iconic piece of architecture.
Finally feeling brave, I plunged into the search function. Hundreds upon hundreds of eligible ladies in the O.C. area popped upon the screen. Incredible. Sent a few messages....no responses

Day 2: Discovered the "quick match" function. Rated dozens of singles. Five stars or above signaled if you liked them. They were then notified of your vote if you rated them highly. Sent a few more messages...no response

.......The saga will continue.

reunited and it feels so good

dear internet,

you ever had turkey pepperoni? not that great.

ted are you good with that sleeping bag?
can i get a pillow?
(throw)
i'm set

we tried to watch THE TUB (link will come soon).

nonberg: "as the evening goes on..."

there are a number of things about alfredo's bathroom that i love
1. the hole that is covered up by tape
2. the right is the cold water and it's blue, and the left is the warm water, but it's blue

stole chairs from casa.
ted takes his contacts out without a mirrow. genius.


nonberg calls it the pizzafund


alfredo provides. ask and it is given.
alfredo has a nice place.
alfredo has soco in his closet.

"the banjo is so american." says ted.

friend day? it needs a new name.

ZING.

THIS IS SO LOUD. NONBERG CAN'T WORK MIAS BED.


we are just posting it now.

Endurance Triathalons: Why?

Hey Blog,

Long time no talk.

It has been a substantial amount of time since I last laid hands on a keyboard to type a post. Well here is a feeble, but determined effort to begin to re-connect to the blogosphere of Stadium 110.

So Ironman Triathalons: When I first looked at one of these events I wondered why anyone in their right mind would want to compete in such a long race. As I looked into more and more events, I decided that it was my time to give it a chance. I signed up for a race 10 months in advance and hit the ground running with my training.
Rather than going into specifics about my training I figured I would talk about how I felt. The more and more the miles of biking, swimming, and running piled on I realized something; training for something the length of an ironman made training purposeful. Once again I found myself working hard day in and day out to succeed in the end result. What does this all remind us of:
Swimming. Yes, all those grueling hours in the pool, working 6 days a week to swim a 20 something second race (or 17 minutes for a mile or so). All those times I thought "what is the point of all of this". As I was training for my ironman I realized, it was never about the end, but about the journey. My teammates, my failures, my success, all were part of a larger journey that I am just now starting to appreciate. It's funny how time changes ones perspective.
When I finally competed in the Ironman, I crashed on my bike and had to go to the hospital. I was upset for training so hard and not finishing, but at the same time I realized what an incredible experience I had in the preparations.
As I sign up for my next full Ironman, I realize that way to make the most of the event, is to enjoy every mile run, every stroke taken, and every gear shifted. I am looking forward to the journey ahead.

An Important... and Hilarious PSA