Foosball is the Devil!
Midterms are done. Thank God. Now I can finally get back to the things that really matter: blogging, foosball and Legal Counsel. Not in that order. The actual order of importance is reversed.
Regarding the first item on the itinerary: I haven’t been blogging for two reasons. The first is a wedding. A very fun wedding. Congrats Flynn Ivy Carey and Erin Ivy Carey! The second reason is best summed up here. It’s like the Brothers Chaps were reading my mind.
Ah…foosball. The game of kings. As a med student, I have to find a way to pass away the hours. Most other medical students choose studying. Interesting choice, but not the way I’d go. No, my distraction came from the medical student lounge. Like a shining beacon in the night, it called to me. A siren luring me from the seas of knowledge onto the rocky shore of tabletop sports. Yes my friends, that beacon…was a foosball table.
Most of the second years prefer ping pong, it seems. But that’s a jerk game. Everybody who plays takes it way too seriously. It’s a little scary and a little sad. I’ll call it scad. But the foosball table is all fun and frivolity - funolity. Good times are had by all. And it’s the game of the third and fourth years, thus making it cooler.
We play pretty much whenever we can. After class, before class, instead of class, lunchtime – you name it. The usual MS1 gang consists of myself, D-Rock, Py-Man, Allan Test, A Jota, Devine, and Wi-Fi. God I love nicknames…
Foosball fills so many of my needs and fits conveniently on one tabletop. My need to have a distraction from studying? Check. My need to destroy my carpals and give myself some kind of joint syndrome? Check. My need to humiliate D-Rock? Check. My need to pretend I’m a giant watching regular sized amputees play soccer and do backflips? Check. It’s perfect.
This weekend I expanded my foosball horizons. Whilst chilling at The Shanty after the wedding, I spotted a slightly dimmer beacon. A siren with a slightly hoarse voice. There was a foosball table in the corner. I’m offering a warning to anybody reading this. And to make sure it sticks, I’m making it all caps, bold, italicized and underlined: DO NOT PLAY FOOSBALL AT THE SHANTY. Seriously.
First off, the table is warped. Watching the ball roll is like watching the patrons at the bar. It wobbles back and forth and you’re never sure where it’s going or when it will stop. And there’s a chance it will pee on the table. Second, it only gives you 5 balls. So unless the game is a blowout (virtually impossible, given the loopy table), you’re going to need to shell out more money.
And I expected so much from the table. Why? Because there was a sign saying that if you block the goal, you’ll be removed from The Shanty permanently. That’s the kind of respect of foosball table deserves, but they were only paying it lip service. The table was crap. It was as though I was on the Castaway island, and Tom Hanks had just made a foosball table out of driftwood, Port-A-Potty walls and shoes to keep himself occupied. Except Wilson would have spit in his face for making that crap.
Standing in stark contrast to that abomination was the God-like foosball table I saw at Price Club (not Costco) yesterday. Constructed with an oak veneer and mahogany trim, this beauty had silver rods and score keepers. And the little one legged players were each painted to look like a person. It was the most beautiful non-Legal Counsel thing I’ve ever seen. It’s the kind of device used to settle arguments on Olympus. It’s what the Lady-of-the-Lake would have thrown at King Arthur to convey Supreme Executive Power had she the upper body strength. If you put this apparatus in the break room of the CDC, they’d have every disease cured by the following Thursday just so they could spend the rest of their lives playing on it. In short, it is the pinnacle of human accomplishment.
If you’d like to see heaven, just click here. It says $545.99, but the one Legal Counsel and I saw was only $299.99, so it might be a different table. But even this one is good enough for me to drop out of med school just to get a job to pay for this thing. And for a house large enough to have space for it. As it stands, it would probably take up my whole living room. If any eccentric millionaires would like to take me on as their ward, that foosball table would be a good start.
That’s enough foosball ranting for one day. Now I believe I’ll melt into a puddle on my couch, since I have a week off.
Regarding the first item on the itinerary: I haven’t been blogging for two reasons. The first is a wedding. A very fun wedding. Congrats Flynn Ivy Carey and Erin Ivy Carey! The second reason is best summed up here. It’s like the Brothers Chaps were reading my mind.
Ah…foosball. The game of kings. As a med student, I have to find a way to pass away the hours. Most other medical students choose studying. Interesting choice, but not the way I’d go. No, my distraction came from the medical student lounge. Like a shining beacon in the night, it called to me. A siren luring me from the seas of knowledge onto the rocky shore of tabletop sports. Yes my friends, that beacon…was a foosball table.
Most of the second years prefer ping pong, it seems. But that’s a jerk game. Everybody who plays takes it way too seriously. It’s a little scary and a little sad. I’ll call it scad. But the foosball table is all fun and frivolity - funolity. Good times are had by all. And it’s the game of the third and fourth years, thus making it cooler.
We play pretty much whenever we can. After class, before class, instead of class, lunchtime – you name it. The usual MS1 gang consists of myself, D-Rock, Py-Man, Allan Test, A Jota, Devine, and Wi-Fi. God I love nicknames…
Foosball fills so many of my needs and fits conveniently on one tabletop. My need to have a distraction from studying? Check. My need to destroy my carpals and give myself some kind of joint syndrome? Check. My need to humiliate D-Rock? Check. My need to pretend I’m a giant watching regular sized amputees play soccer and do backflips? Check. It’s perfect.
This weekend I expanded my foosball horizons. Whilst chilling at The Shanty after the wedding, I spotted a slightly dimmer beacon. A siren with a slightly hoarse voice. There was a foosball table in the corner. I’m offering a warning to anybody reading this. And to make sure it sticks, I’m making it all caps, bold, italicized and underlined: DO NOT PLAY FOOSBALL AT THE SHANTY. Seriously.
First off, the table is warped. Watching the ball roll is like watching the patrons at the bar. It wobbles back and forth and you’re never sure where it’s going or when it will stop. And there’s a chance it will pee on the table. Second, it only gives you 5 balls. So unless the game is a blowout (virtually impossible, given the loopy table), you’re going to need to shell out more money.
And I expected so much from the table. Why? Because there was a sign saying that if you block the goal, you’ll be removed from The Shanty permanently. That’s the kind of respect of foosball table deserves, but they were only paying it lip service. The table was crap. It was as though I was on the Castaway island, and Tom Hanks had just made a foosball table out of driftwood, Port-A-Potty walls and shoes to keep himself occupied. Except Wilson would have spit in his face for making that crap.
Standing in stark contrast to that abomination was the God-like foosball table I saw at Price Club (not Costco) yesterday. Constructed with an oak veneer and mahogany trim, this beauty had silver rods and score keepers. And the little one legged players were each painted to look like a person. It was the most beautiful non-Legal Counsel thing I’ve ever seen. It’s the kind of device used to settle arguments on Olympus. It’s what the Lady-of-the-Lake would have thrown at King Arthur to convey Supreme Executive Power had she the upper body strength. If you put this apparatus in the break room of the CDC, they’d have every disease cured by the following Thursday just so they could spend the rest of their lives playing on it. In short, it is the pinnacle of human accomplishment.
If you’d like to see heaven, just click here. It says $545.99, but the one Legal Counsel and I saw was only $299.99, so it might be a different table. But even this one is good enough for me to drop out of med school just to get a job to pay for this thing. And for a house large enough to have space for it. As it stands, it would probably take up my whole living room. If any eccentric millionaires would like to take me on as their ward, that foosball table would be a good start.
That’s enough foosball ranting for one day. Now I believe I’ll melt into a puddle on my couch, since I have a week off.
posted by Montgomery at 9:07 AM
5 Comments:
It's GLORIOUS! Mine eyes have never gazed upon such a beauty.
P.S. This "D-Rock" fellow sounds like he probably humiliates you at the table more than you him. Also, he sounds like an extremely sexy man whom I'd like to see naked. That is all.
You're partially right. D-Rock sometimes does the humiliating. But he just humiliates himself. The other day, I beat him so bad he started crying. Then he started talking about how he still wets the bed. Then he started kissing my feet. It was really sad.
But he is very sexy, and most people want to see him naked. But I'm not positive that he is a man...
Do you see that an adjunct UA optics prof won a Nobel prize?
Sweet. It was probably because of me. One night during a game of poker with ol' "Glaubs" (my nickname for him), I started talking about optics and combs. Boom - months later he develops the optical frequency comb technique. Coincidence? I think not...
Strange to leave a comment 3.5 years after the fact, but the chloraseptic spray and cadavers in A&P usually have the same active ingredient: Phenol. I just came to the same realization that cadavers and chloraseptic smell almost exactly the same. Then I read the ingredients list.... that toxic crap goes in your mouth! How unsettling!
Cheers!
Rich
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