LAUGHTER BURNS CALORIES

I love to laugh. Yup. Loudly, too. Here's three jokes I recently heard for the first time that made me laugh.

1) How did the two snails settle their differences?
They slugged it out.

2) What do you call an Italian prostitute?
A pastatute. (To which I responded: What do you call a fill-in prostitute? A substitute.)

3) What do you get when you cross a rooster and an owl?
A cock that stays up all night. (To which I responded: Like Rhonda Sheer on USA back in the day.)

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom read the story about the guy arrested for being drunk on a Metairie street. He also had some weed on him and pointed out a bag to an officer which contained electronic equipment he stole from people on that street. Mom: "Then he has the balls to answer the fucking phone he just stole. What did he say? 'Yeah. I got your shit?' His mother must be so proud. ... One person he stole from left his fucking iPod in his car. How many times I got to tell you not to leave shit showing in your car? ... I can't believe that asshole answered the phone."

Mom: You see who's playing Jazz Fest?
Me: Yeah. Bon Jovi.
Mom: No. Neil Young.
Me: He's no Bon Jovi.
Mom: He's the fucking greatest. He's Neil fucking Young.

PARTING SHOT
I have a running thing where I talk to Jelly about her sister.

Jelly: My sister brought over a dude today.
Me: Ah, the competition.
Jelly: Nope. He doesn't like chicks.
Me: I win!
Liam: That's more like a disqualification.
JRap: Yeah. That's a forfeit.

THE DAILY TOP LIST
I remember my senior year (2001-02) of high school fondly. But after recently discussing it, I realized it was full of disappointment. The top five things that went wrong that year.

5) I didn't get to go on Senior Trip.
Senior Trip was you pay like $100 and go to Disney World for about a week. I really wanted to hit that shit up. In high-pitched voice: Would have been crazy. I wasn't allowed to go because the AP calculus test was scheduled during the time of the trip.

Now, I took three AP tests that year, and only the calculus one messed with Senior Trip. Several of us wanted to go on the trip instead, but the powers that be forced us to take the test. Our argument was that we had no chance of passing the test, so what was the point of taking it. (We all bombed, so much so that I drew an American flag as one of my answers.)

The powers that be told us that since we already paid to take the test, we had to take it. I said I'll eat the money. Then, they said if you don't take this test after taking the prep course for it, then we won't let you graduate. Sons of bitches, I tell you. You had to take the test on the assigned day, deleting taking it when we got back from the options.

Also, the test was after graduation. I could give a crap about some impossible calculus test at that point. And I tested out of the only math I needed at Loyola anyway. I think I didn't try on purpose to stuff it in their faces.

4) I didn't get to go on the field for the Super Bowl.
I'm not sure if they do this every year, but the people on the field at the Patriots-Rams Super Bowl for the U2 show (where they rolled the list of the victims of Sept. 11) were all high-school seniors. As luck would have it, that was my senior year. As more luck would have it, I was the first one allowed to sign up (I had connections) from Rummel (only 100 per school were allowed). As luck would not have it, I wasn't allowed to participate.

The stipulations were that to be on the field for the U2 halftime show, you had to show up at two practices at City Park (I think). There were no ifs ands or buts about this. If you signed up and then missed one of the practices for whatever reason, your name was taken off the list. No exceptions. And wouldn't you know it, the first scheduled practice for this was the same night we hosted Jesuit in soccer. How could I miss that?

Here's a list of everything that went wrong with this.
a) That was the only game of the season I didn't start. Coach was trying something until he realized it wasn't working.
b) I was taken out of the game with five minutes left for defensive purposes. We were winning 1-0.
c) Coach then yelled to the players on the field to keep attacking. What? Are you kidding? There's only five minutes left. That backfired as the Jays tied it and then won it in overtime. Might as well have gone to the practice.
d) The U2 show became legendary. The Super Bowl was one of the greatest ever. I could have said: I was there. But I can not. Paul reminds me of this about once a month. Because he was there. Ugh.

3) I didn't get to be salutatorian by myself.
Sure, Minkus is a good friend. Sure, our co-salutatorian speech is the stuff of legend. Sure, I know I really finished second and he finished third. But in the end, it would have been a better moment to have it by myself.

My final GPA: 4.922 (It's weighted.)
Minkus' final GPA: 4.918.
They decided to interpret this as we both had a GPA of 4.92. Tie. Uh, bullshit.

When the graduation director complained to me in a private meeting that he was mad at me for tying because that meant an extra chair on his stage (Rummel's system is meant to avoid ties), I told him it didn't have to be a tie because my GPA was higher. He didn't, however, have any power over this.

Ultimately, I didn't make a real push to be the sole salutatorian. I could have if I wanted to, but I didn't because: a) Minkus was a friend. b) He wrote most of the speech. c) I didn't want to be a dick. d) I just wanted to get out of there. e) Minkus worked really hard in senior year to catch up. The lead was sizable after junior year.

However, upon recently telling this story at the last Yat-Together, I now regret not making a stink about it. If I were able to do it over again, I would caused a big fuss. There would have been meetings with the principal, teachers, administrators, alumni directors, the archbishop, a lawyer and even some eighth-graders. Basically, I could have proven that my GPA should have been higher.

a) My physics teacher had it in for me because another class told him I was the cause of all the spitballs in his classroom. In reality, that class was the cause. The class I was in didn't spit any spitballs. The other class had spitball wars. Yet he was too stupid to realize this, listened to them and decided I was a bad egg.

I'll admit I was a small behavior problem in high school. I talked a lot. Hard to believe, I know. Teachers don't like it when you talk during their lecture. Weird. The physics teacher took a point off your average every time he corrected you for misbehaving. He also added a point to your average every time you did a problem on the board.

In the final nine weeks of school, I decided I wasn't going to say a word in his class. (By the way, he was an awful teacher.) I think he corrected me once. Also, I went to the board to do a problem probably 20 times. The lowest grade I made on a test was a 97 that nine weeks. So, my average should have been something like a 117. What was my grade? An A minus. A minus? I asked him how I received an A minus. Response: "Because you were bad." I'm telling you, I was so quiet that nine weeks.

In like January of senior year, the quiz bowl team needed one more member because somebody quit. He was in charge of the team. I show up for tryouts after school one day, and he looks at me funny.
Him: What are you doing here, Gene?
Me: I'm here to make the Quiz Bowl team, sir.
Him: Oh, no. I'm sorry. This is only for smart people.

See, he had it in for me. That's why I didn't get an A plus. I didn't complain to the proper authorities because it was still an A, and I was graduating. But now I wish I would have gotten his ass in big trouble.

b) The American government teacher had it in for me as well. The dynamic duo, if you will. He was also an awful teacher.

He had it in for me because I talked too much in his class. He put me in the back corner by myself. Which I didn't mind because I ate my lunch back there while he mumbled nonsense for 50 minutes. I'm not kidding. He mumbled. And he never once made any sense.

I had a feeling he favored some kids over others, so in the final nine weeks, I played a game. Our tests were scantron, and I compared my grade on every test to another student. There were fifty questions on every test. Going into the final, I had gotten a total of three more questions correct.

Plus, I was one of three students to do a three-page paper he assigned at the beginning of the nine weeks. He had clearly forgotten about assigning it. Every one knew it and so didn't do the project. But I handed it in and asked if it could be extra credit since only two others did it. He said sure.

I studied real hard for the final. Read the chapters twice. Other student's final grade: A. Mine: B+. Say what? For that to happen, the other student would have to have beaten me by like 12 questions (there were only 50) on the final. There's no fucking way. (I never saw the results of the final.)

I'm pretty sure that if I expose this conspiracy, my grades get boosted, and I'm salutatorian with a 4.93.

2) I didn't get a full scholarship to Loyola.
They give 10 of these out a year. My resume was loaded: salutatorian, played soccer, all kinds of extracurriculars, a 30 on the ACT. I remember writing a killer essay.

I'll never forget the shock when I opened the letter to find out I got the secondary scholarship. Mom: Oh, this is such bullshit. It was. I'd like to look at the college transcript of the 10 people that got the full scholarship in my class and compare them to mine. Then, laminate them and show them to the Loyola people who decide these things.

I have this higher than No. 3 mostly because of the money it cost us.

1) We lost to Brother Martin in the soccer quarterfinals.
We had a good enough team to win the state championship. If the seeding system were in place then, we would have been the No. 2 or 3 seed. Brother Martin would have been the No. 4. This matchup wouldn't even have happened (or one against top-seeded Jesuit) until the championship. I know (for a fact) that the only two teams that could beat us were these two rivals.

We lost to Brother Martin that day 3-0. Everything that could go wrong in a match went wrong. They got every break. They got every loose ball. They made every play. We didn't make any. They had a coach. We didn't have a coach. Seriously. He was in Mississippi.

If that match is played 10 times, here's the breakdown: Five wins apiece, with each team getting one blowout. Not a week goes by when I don't think about that match and wish we could replay it.