When I come back to Vestal, I have the luxury of letting my hair down, putting my feet up, and really feeling like I am at home. I am always so anxious to visit the house and enjoy my family. Although it is exciting to be back, there is one huge blemish that I can never avoid.
I remember the days when I was a child where sharing a bedroom with my older and cooler brother was the most magnificent thing in the world to me. (He is still older, but I am not ready to admit he is still cooler). Anyways, being away at college taught me the true beauty of having my own room. Not only does my brother wake up at 8 am on the weekdays for work....he wakes up at 8 am on the weekends just for fun. Not a huge problem right? Wrong.
Ever since we SEBU's were little monsters, we have known that when LoLo (Little L) was up, everyone was supposed to be up. Recently, his mornin's usually start with him blasting Miley Cyrus, Lady GaGa, Shakira or the newly installed, Ke$ha's"Tik Tok". All of which are appropriate and nice tunes for me to wake up to, but the other SEBU's aren't necessarily in favor of this method. If his "Good Mornin'" ended here, I would have no objections. As expected, this is just the beginning.
Once he has the background music set up and on repeat, he proceeds back to the room. Normal people usually start to get ready so they can begin their days. I stand by my theory that my brother is not normal and is in fact a Martian. This is his time to wake me up. I didn't ask him to, I never ask him to, he just does. At this point in the morning, I am just finishing up my dreams which always end in some sort of success. I am usually feeling very relaxed and would not want to be disturbed abruptly.
In all my peace, tranquility, and innocence, my brother regards me as a vulture would see a decaying dead animal. At my most vulnerable state, he attacks.
On a good day, my mornings start with him slapping, punching, and kicking me. Those are the mornings I look forward to. More often then not, my mornings start with a variety of different wrestling and choke holds that I obviously cannot battle. Even when I try to anticipate, I am always caught off guard then suddenly am fighting for my life. While I gasp for air and struggle to break the lock he has placed on me, he always greets me with the same harmless, yet spine-chilling phrase.
" I just wanted to say Good Mornin' ".
In case you haven't realized, he refuses to pronounce the "g" in morning.
Once he utters those horrendous words, an animal is unleashed in me. I get so angry and I just want to fight. Looking at our weight difference, many of you probably could imagine that me fighting him would not be a very good idea. I chose the next best alternative. I scream for my mom's help. Once I realize she could care less and isn't coming to save me, I just pray. I pray for him to stop, I pray for an answer, I pray for a savior.
After over 15 minutes of excruciating fighting, he finally stops. He smiles and walks out of the room feeling proud and accomplished. Tired and irate, I try to get comfortable and fall back asleep, but that never happens. My morning has been ruined.
He never misses a morning, and always makes sure each one is worse than the previous. Considering I can't just stop sleeping, I am forced to wake up with this abuse. Life is rough. One day though, mark my word, I shall have my revenge and it will be oh so sweet. After I am victorious in the SEBU-lympics, I will take my newly acquired confidence and return the punishment I have endured over the years. Please expect a post for that monumental day.
In the mean time, thank you for your attention. This is probably a good time to get back to the work you are procrastinating on. I give you permission to do so. Until next time, stay thirsty my friends.
Long Live The Prince
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week
While riding home from my Aunt's house today with my right hand man and the Boogey (Big L and Boogey-D respectively), I reached out for some assistance. I sincerely asked them if they had any idea who should receive the often celebrated Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week.
As I listened to my brother secretly suggest himself while my sister mashed away at the keyboard of her cell phone as she vigorously texted the "Fo'", the recipient of the week struck me like a Bolt of Usain.
Any guess? Times up.
This weeks Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week is reserved for none other than the Boogiest of them all. Divine "Boogey-D" Sebuharara. Congratulations to you and your family, this is a tremendous achievement.
When she is not sleeping (extremely rare), Boogey-D likes to spend her time viewing our posts here at Club SEBU Inc. She also sets aside 'awake time' to post social interviews on Facebook, with raving reviews of the Club. She sometimes has to be reminded, yet she always devotes precious time to enjoy the posts. These are ideal actions of a Club member. We do not only appreciate her enthusiasm and fidelity, we also encourage this in our younger viewers. Boogey-D, you are a trend-setter and I thank you.
Once more, Congratulations Boogey-D for your impressive approach ability to always lend a helping hand. You've made your way from a Tiny Star to a Galaxy of Brilliance.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.
Long Live The Fans
As I listened to my brother secretly suggest himself while my sister mashed away at the keyboard of her cell phone as she vigorously texted the "Fo'", the recipient of the week struck me like a Bolt of Usain.
Any guess? Times up.
This weeks Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week is reserved for none other than the Boogiest of them all. Divine "Boogey-D" Sebuharara. Congratulations to you and your family, this is a tremendous achievement.
When she is not sleeping (extremely rare), Boogey-D likes to spend her time viewing our posts here at Club SEBU Inc. She also sets aside 'awake time' to post social interviews on Facebook, with raving reviews of the Club. She sometimes has to be reminded, yet she always devotes precious time to enjoy the posts. These are ideal actions of a Club member. We do not only appreciate her enthusiasm and fidelity, we also encourage this in our younger viewers. Boogey-D, you are a trend-setter and I thank you.
Once more, Congratulations Boogey-D for your impressive approach ability to always lend a helping hand. You've made your way from a Tiny Star to a Galaxy of Brilliance.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.
Long Live The Fans
What's Beef?
Tupac vs. Biggie.....Yankees vs. Red Sox.....LeBron vs. Kobe.....Richie vs. Santa
Over the last few years, I have sensed a little bit of tension between me and Jolly Ole Saint Nick. Truthfully, I am not exactly sure what I have done to make him angry but I have certainly upset Kris Kringle.
I have noticed a trend lately. As we approach the Holiday season, everyone plans out their wishful Christmas lists. Just as everybody did, I would follow the procedure and think of everything I wanted. I am quite greedy and have realized that my humble lists have grown from year to year to small novels that I am now quite embarrassed by. Don't judge me.
Now in all fairness, since my lists were quite cumbersome, I chose to be on my best behavior for 364 days of the year (April 8th is my day to be wild). Considering on my designated wild day I usually bask in the glory of yet another year of prestige and do absolutely nothing, my 365 days are untarnished (I do not believe in leap year). Quite the track record but somehow I find myself always on the naughty list every December 25th.
Each year, for the past 5 or so, I have been struck by what I like to call "Santa's Revenge". I get sick 1 time a year and I find it strange that it is always the week of Christmas. It is one of two things.
If anyone is in contact with Mr. Claus, let him know that I am looking for him. Clearly he has lost my address and all my contact information. More importantly, he is on the brink of losing my respect. I'm giving it one more year. If I get sick next Christmas Santa, I promise you this.....I will find you. Let us squash this beef, and return to the days where I anticipated your arrival rather than formulate a strategy to combat it.
I apologize for my uncharacteristically bad mood, it's just that this sickness has overstayed its visit and my body has had enough.
In other news. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.
Until next time, don't stop, make it pop, DJ blow my speakers up.
Long Live The Prince
Over the last few years, I have sensed a little bit of tension between me and Jolly Ole Saint Nick. Truthfully, I am not exactly sure what I have done to make him angry but I have certainly upset Kris Kringle.
I have noticed a trend lately. As we approach the Holiday season, everyone plans out their wishful Christmas lists. Just as everybody did, I would follow the procedure and think of everything I wanted. I am quite greedy and have realized that my humble lists have grown from year to year to small novels that I am now quite embarrassed by. Don't judge me.
Now in all fairness, since my lists were quite cumbersome, I chose to be on my best behavior for 364 days of the year (April 8th is my day to be wild). Considering on my designated wild day I usually bask in the glory of yet another year of prestige and do absolutely nothing, my 365 days are untarnished (I do not believe in leap year). Quite the track record but somehow I find myself always on the naughty list every December 25th.
Each year, for the past 5 or so, I have been struck by what I like to call "Santa's Revenge". I get sick 1 time a year and I find it strange that it is always the week of Christmas. It is one of two things.
- I am allergic to Christmas
- Me and Santa are beefin'
If anyone is in contact with Mr. Claus, let him know that I am looking for him. Clearly he has lost my address and all my contact information. More importantly, he is on the brink of losing my respect. I'm giving it one more year. If I get sick next Christmas Santa, I promise you this.....I will find you. Let us squash this beef, and return to the days where I anticipated your arrival rather than formulate a strategy to combat it.
I apologize for my uncharacteristically bad mood, it's just that this sickness has overstayed its visit and my body has had enough.
In other news. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.
Until next time, don't stop, make it pop, DJ blow my speakers up.
Long Live The Prince
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week
Second Saturday in a row. I know fans, I am slacking. I'll be back on my game next Friday. Anyways, let's get this show on the road shall we?
This week, the Club is honored and privileged to give out the award. I hope the other recipients do not take offense to this, but this weeks winner has done a marvelous job that has definitely inspired me to continue dominating the Blogworld. The Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week goes to...
Drum roll please
Camille Ginyard. Congratulations! After years of vaulting over tremendous heights, you have reached the pinnacle of existence. Ms. Ginyard is a regular in the Club and has frequently showed allegiance to Team SEBU. Camille also impressed Club SEBU officials with her uncanny ability to recite direct quotes from the Blog, precisely how they were written. This is a skill that one could only dream to harness.
Once more, Congratulations Ms. Ginyard, for your most recent accomplishment. You have entered the land of prestige and we are glad to have you here.
Until next time...there's a She-Wolf in your closet.
Long Live The Fans
This week, the Club is honored and privileged to give out the award. I hope the other recipients do not take offense to this, but this weeks winner has done a marvelous job that has definitely inspired me to continue dominating the Blogworld. The Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week goes to...
Drum roll please
Camille Ginyard. Congratulations! After years of vaulting over tremendous heights, you have reached the pinnacle of existence. Ms. Ginyard is a regular in the Club and has frequently showed allegiance to Team SEBU. Camille also impressed Club SEBU officials with her uncanny ability to recite direct quotes from the Blog, precisely how they were written. This is a skill that one could only dream to harness.
Once more, Congratulations Ms. Ginyard, for your most recent accomplishment. You have entered the land of prestige and we are glad to have you here.
Until next time...there's a She-Wolf in your closet.
Long Live The Fans
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Facebook Anonymous
Hello everyone. I am Richie Sebuharara, and I am addicted to Facebook.
This is a new discovery that I am a little embarrassed to admit, but was eating me up inside. As I continually made fun of my brother's severe addiction, I slowly began to pick up what I now believe is a hereditary trait in our family.
I began to question myself when I arrived in Vestal on Friday, December the 11th. The moment I stepped into my house, I put down all my belongings and headed to the computer to update my status. My updated status read "Daddy's home...". Yet another golden status. Roughly two minutes after I clicked "Share", I signed back on to Facebook to see if anyone had sprinkled their feelings on my status in the form of a red balloon called a notification. Nothing. I proceeded to check at 5 minute increments for the next hour or so. First sign.
The second and more crucial symptom came when my brother ventured off for work on Monday as he does every week. I knew this moment would come but I was far from prepared for it. As I sat in the window and watched him drive off into the snowy horizon, I turned to myself and asked "Richie, what are you going to do until 5 pm?" (it was approximately 9 am when he left). My only other option was to check my Facebook.
From 9 am to 8 pm (my brother had to lift after work), I wasted my time reading pointless stories, and social interviews on Facebook. I saw thousands of pictures that I was not in, read numerous statuses that varied from kids complaining about upcoming exams, song lyrics from their favorite tune, or clever poems and quotes directed towards someone who allegedly has ruined their lives. I also watched videos littered with inside jokes, and an infinite amount of comments about how awesome that night was, and how none of them remember taking the video. I also saw at least a million different groups, pages, and events that people were joining or attending, even if they had no intentions to go forward with any further requirements asked by the groups. As I became more and more addicted, I learned that Farmville and a plethora of childish games seem to be the only work done in high school or college. In case you were wondering, no one commented on my status.
Before I could even stand up and grab something to eat, it was 8 o'clock. I had spent my entire day accomplishing nothing. Instead of reading a novel, I read each and every News Feed that popped up. While I could have been cleaning my house, I was looking at every picture I have ever been tagged in. Quite frankly, I had devoted my whole day to learning absolutely nothing.
What hurts even more is I didn't see it coming. What I assumed would be only a couple minutes, turned into hours upon hours dissecting Facebook. I am truly ashamed of myself.
In actuality, I did not spend that much time on Facebook. I took breaks for eating, lifting, getting the mail and talking to Mr Sebu. All in all, the time that I did spend on Facebook was far too long. This social networking site has taken over the globe and has formed a life of its own. In my first "Welcome Home" exam, I failed miserably. You win some, you lose some. In the future I will have to keep the constant Facebook checks to a minimum. Maybe I'll write a book. Who knows. In the mean time, I will have to make major adjustments in my bad habits.
Thank you for joining me again. It has been my pleasure to bore you. Until next time...it's all good baby baby.
Long Live The Prince
This is a new discovery that I am a little embarrassed to admit, but was eating me up inside. As I continually made fun of my brother's severe addiction, I slowly began to pick up what I now believe is a hereditary trait in our family.
I began to question myself when I arrived in Vestal on Friday, December the 11th. The moment I stepped into my house, I put down all my belongings and headed to the computer to update my status. My updated status read "Daddy's home...". Yet another golden status. Roughly two minutes after I clicked "Share", I signed back on to Facebook to see if anyone had sprinkled their feelings on my status in the form of a red balloon called a notification. Nothing. I proceeded to check at 5 minute increments for the next hour or so. First sign.
The second and more crucial symptom came when my brother ventured off for work on Monday as he does every week. I knew this moment would come but I was far from prepared for it. As I sat in the window and watched him drive off into the snowy horizon, I turned to myself and asked "Richie, what are you going to do until 5 pm?" (it was approximately 9 am when he left). My only other option was to check my Facebook.
From 9 am to 8 pm (my brother had to lift after work), I wasted my time reading pointless stories, and social interviews on Facebook. I saw thousands of pictures that I was not in, read numerous statuses that varied from kids complaining about upcoming exams, song lyrics from their favorite tune, or clever poems and quotes directed towards someone who allegedly has ruined their lives. I also watched videos littered with inside jokes, and an infinite amount of comments about how awesome that night was, and how none of them remember taking the video. I also saw at least a million different groups, pages, and events that people were joining or attending, even if they had no intentions to go forward with any further requirements asked by the groups. As I became more and more addicted, I learned that Farmville and a plethora of childish games seem to be the only work done in high school or college. In case you were wondering, no one commented on my status.
Before I could even stand up and grab something to eat, it was 8 o'clock. I had spent my entire day accomplishing nothing. Instead of reading a novel, I read each and every News Feed that popped up. While I could have been cleaning my house, I was looking at every picture I have ever been tagged in. Quite frankly, I had devoted my whole day to learning absolutely nothing.
What hurts even more is I didn't see it coming. What I assumed would be only a couple minutes, turned into hours upon hours dissecting Facebook. I am truly ashamed of myself.
In actuality, I did not spend that much time on Facebook. I took breaks for eating, lifting, getting the mail and talking to Mr Sebu. All in all, the time that I did spend on Facebook was far too long. This social networking site has taken over the globe and has formed a life of its own. In my first "Welcome Home" exam, I failed miserably. You win some, you lose some. In the future I will have to keep the constant Facebook checks to a minimum. Maybe I'll write a book. Who knows. In the mean time, I will have to make major adjustments in my bad habits.
Thank you for joining me again. It has been my pleasure to bore you. Until next time...it's all good baby baby.
Long Live The Prince
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week
One day off of my weekly Friday shout out, but we can still get it in.
In honor of my arrival back to Vestal, I decided this weeks recipient should be a Golden Bear. Don't think that I am just giving this weeks award to a Vestalonian because they live here. They have earned their spot in Club SEBU history.
This weeks Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week goes to none other than Mr. Gabe Pickett. After years of rookie mistakes and childish actions, this young man has made his way to the forefront of elite status. As one of the Club's gold standard members, Gabe has exhibited the tools to one day possibly start his own branch of pointless blogs. There will never be anything quite like Club SEBU though, so slow your roll.
Congratulations Gabe a.k.a Junior Sebu. Keep up the extravagant work and the Club shall reward you. Until next time.....my name is Dre, but you can call me Possum Allawishes Jenkins Andre 3000 for short.
Long Live The Fans
In honor of my arrival back to Vestal, I decided this weeks recipient should be a Golden Bear. Don't think that I am just giving this weeks award to a Vestalonian because they live here. They have earned their spot in Club SEBU history.
This weeks Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week goes to none other than Mr. Gabe Pickett. After years of rookie mistakes and childish actions, this young man has made his way to the forefront of elite status. As one of the Club's gold standard members, Gabe has exhibited the tools to one day possibly start his own branch of pointless blogs. There will never be anything quite like Club SEBU though, so slow your roll.
Congratulations Gabe a.k.a Junior Sebu. Keep up the extravagant work and the Club shall reward you. Until next time.....my name is Dre, but you can call me Possum Allawishes Jenkins Andre 3000 for short.
Long Live The Fans
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Bubbleguts
You know exactly what I am talking about. I know many of you out there may deny this at first, and probably make fun of me due to the high levels of embarrassment, but eventually the truth will come out. It happens to all of us, and I figure it's better if we talk about it instead of hiding it.
If you are still a little confused and aren't sure what I am talking about, I feel it is my duty to inform you. You know that little sound that your stomach makes when you are extremely hungry? Or the sound when you eat some foreign college food that your poor little tummy has yet to be vaccinated for? Or the sound that your belly makes prior to a big presentation, but never stops chirping until long after your presentation is done? If you still do not understand, those were all examples of Bubbleguts. There are various situations where this demon decides to visit including free throws during a basketball game, conversation with professors, or everyone's favorite, the first conversation with the specific someone you finally built up enough courage to talk to (don't point fingers...it has happened to all of us).
Since everyone is up to speed with the definition, we can continue on...
As always, I will take you monsters into a story in my own life so you can laugh at me and appreciate your lives a little bit more. It's just what I do.
In the thick of finals week, I found that my new address can be located in Study Table. Study Table is a quiet study hall, similar to study hall that you high school mongrels are required to go to for about 40 minutes a day. The only difference is we are required 8 hours a week as freshmen. Do the math yourself...my last math class was two days ago.
Anyways, while in Study Table, I have been working like a madman. Studying, then working, then studying some more while finishing homework. It has been quite the experience. On top of the glorious workload, I have noticed that I frequently use my "inside voice" when I do not particularly intend to do so. Each time my stomach talks, I quickly look around to see if anyone will notice, or answer to my stomachs belligerent requests (ones that I am yet to find out myself). While scanning the room, I usually see a mass of students either listening to music, talking with their friends, watching movies, or doing their homework with their eyes fastened shut and drool slightly flowing down their chins, none of which constitute as "schoolwork" but that's for another day. When I am done browsing the crowd, it seems as though no one has noticed but I still feel a sense of discomfort and humiliation. Then I think to myself..."Richie, each time someone awkwardly stops what they are doing and looks around suspiciously....they probably are experiencing the same thing as me. No worries big guy. Get back to work".
Yet another unwritten exam that I have been successful in. Although I know sometimes your stomach can sound like thunder rumbling, lightning striking, or a cell phone vibrating during a final exam, but those are all just in your head.
I am by no means saying that it is acceptable, and one should start sharing this sound with others because it is actually quite disturbing. I have tried to convince myself and you all that these sounds are only in your head. Quite frankly I have fabricated the truth, just as anyone before me who has tackled this dilemma. Everyone can hear it. Everyone is just good pretending like they didn't. This is the first college exam I haven't passed. Shame on me and to those others who have failed with me (everyone who is alive has). Don't worry, it is only as awkward as you make it. Do as I do now and pretend it never happened. Believe me, it works.
With this being one of my more suggestive posts, I hope you can still appreciate me. In this post I have simply addressed a quite humorous event that we all go through. Don't judge me too harshly. If you do, there really isn't much I can do so be my guest.
As I repeatedly say, I hope you enjoyed this blog as much as I enjoyed writing it. Go in peace. Until next time...don't call me GaGa.
Long Live The Prince
If you are still a little confused and aren't sure what I am talking about, I feel it is my duty to inform you. You know that little sound that your stomach makes when you are extremely hungry? Or the sound when you eat some foreign college food that your poor little tummy has yet to be vaccinated for? Or the sound that your belly makes prior to a big presentation, but never stops chirping until long after your presentation is done? If you still do not understand, those were all examples of Bubbleguts. There are various situations where this demon decides to visit including free throws during a basketball game, conversation with professors, or everyone's favorite, the first conversation with the specific someone you finally built up enough courage to talk to (don't point fingers...it has happened to all of us).
Since everyone is up to speed with the definition, we can continue on...
As always, I will take you monsters into a story in my own life so you can laugh at me and appreciate your lives a little bit more. It's just what I do.
In the thick of finals week, I found that my new address can be located in Study Table. Study Table is a quiet study hall, similar to study hall that you high school mongrels are required to go to for about 40 minutes a day. The only difference is we are required 8 hours a week as freshmen. Do the math yourself...my last math class was two days ago.
Anyways, while in Study Table, I have been working like a madman. Studying, then working, then studying some more while finishing homework. It has been quite the experience. On top of the glorious workload, I have noticed that I frequently use my "inside voice" when I do not particularly intend to do so. Each time my stomach talks, I quickly look around to see if anyone will notice, or answer to my stomachs belligerent requests (ones that I am yet to find out myself). While scanning the room, I usually see a mass of students either listening to music, talking with their friends, watching movies, or doing their homework with their eyes fastened shut and drool slightly flowing down their chins, none of which constitute as "schoolwork" but that's for another day. When I am done browsing the crowd, it seems as though no one has noticed but I still feel a sense of discomfort and humiliation. Then I think to myself..."Richie, each time someone awkwardly stops what they are doing and looks around suspiciously....they probably are experiencing the same thing as me. No worries big guy. Get back to work".
Yet another unwritten exam that I have been successful in. Although I know sometimes your stomach can sound like thunder rumbling, lightning striking, or a cell phone vibrating during a final exam, but those are all just in your head.
I am by no means saying that it is acceptable, and one should start sharing this sound with others because it is actually quite disturbing. I have tried to convince myself and you all that these sounds are only in your head. Quite frankly I have fabricated the truth, just as anyone before me who has tackled this dilemma. Everyone can hear it. Everyone is just good pretending like they didn't. This is the first college exam I haven't passed. Shame on me and to those others who have failed with me (everyone who is alive has). Don't worry, it is only as awkward as you make it. Do as I do now and pretend it never happened. Believe me, it works.
With this being one of my more suggestive posts, I hope you can still appreciate me. In this post I have simply addressed a quite humorous event that we all go through. Don't judge me too harshly. If you do, there really isn't much I can do so be my guest.
As I repeatedly say, I hope you enjoyed this blog as much as I enjoyed writing it. Go in peace. Until next time...don't call me GaGa.
Long Live The Prince
Monday, December 7, 2009
SEBU-lympics
It is official. After years of bickering and battling, the ultimate test of manhood has finally been confirmed. In the Summer of 2010, at the Golden Bears Dick Hoover Stadium in Vestal NY, I will be participating in the race of my life. I will be taking on the often imitated, never duplicated...King.
For those who don't know, that is my arch nemesis, Loic. Since birth, I have been fighting off SEBU's to become the Greatest SEBU of All Time. I have battled the best of the best, only to be stop just short of the Number 1 spot. Yes, you guessed it. Loic has it. He has finally agreed to give me my chance to shine. His mistake, not mine.
Second place is the first loser and for 18 years, I have only tasted the sweet flavor of victory once. While helping my sister babysit a few summers back, I found myself spending more time in the babysitee's (not a real word) pool than anywhere else. It wasn't for my recreation or amusement, it was my boot camp. I trained hours upon hours, working on my stroke, perfecting my Michael Phelps form, and mastering the art of swimming. All of which paid off that same summer, when I demolished my enemy and became the fastest SEBU in water. I need that flavor back!
After years of living under The King's shadow, losing has become way of life. Not only do I lose physically, I have lost my identity. Instead of being addressed as "Richie", I am now known as "Loic's brother". If that is too long for someone to say, I am just called "Loic".
I answer to "Loic", and I've had it!
Now is the real test. We are taking it to the track. The original Olympic game. No gimmicks, no excuses, just racing.
What most likely will be the slowest 100 and 200 meter dashes to date for you viewers, is the most important race of my life. I could win Gold in the Olympics (hypothetically speaking of course), beating the likes of Usain Bolt, and Tyson Gay and would not even be close to as satisfied as I will be when I defeat the King.
This is more than a race to me. This is destiny. Losing is not an option, better yet, only a figment of my brother's imagination.
Hopefully I didn't bore you too much, and you may be interested to watch this epic race. Please leave thoughts, feelings, or emotions at your own discretion here or on my Facebook. All of your opinions are accepted. (Statements against me will leave you subject to harsh consequence.)
Summer 2010... World War SEBU
Until next time....We are all Witnesses
Long Live The Prince
For those who don't know, that is my arch nemesis, Loic. Since birth, I have been fighting off SEBU's to become the Greatest SEBU of All Time. I have battled the best of the best, only to be stop just short of the Number 1 spot. Yes, you guessed it. Loic has it. He has finally agreed to give me my chance to shine. His mistake, not mine.
Second place is the first loser and for 18 years, I have only tasted the sweet flavor of victory once. While helping my sister babysit a few summers back, I found myself spending more time in the babysitee's (not a real word) pool than anywhere else. It wasn't for my recreation or amusement, it was my boot camp. I trained hours upon hours, working on my stroke, perfecting my Michael Phelps form, and mastering the art of swimming. All of which paid off that same summer, when I demolished my enemy and became the fastest SEBU in water. I need that flavor back!
After years of living under The King's shadow, losing has become way of life. Not only do I lose physically, I have lost my identity. Instead of being addressed as "Richie", I am now known as "Loic's brother". If that is too long for someone to say, I am just called "Loic".
I answer to "Loic", and I've had it!
Now is the real test. We are taking it to the track. The original Olympic game. No gimmicks, no excuses, just racing.
What most likely will be the slowest 100 and 200 meter dashes to date for you viewers, is the most important race of my life. I could win Gold in the Olympics (hypothetically speaking of course), beating the likes of Usain Bolt, and Tyson Gay and would not even be close to as satisfied as I will be when I defeat the King.
This is more than a race to me. This is destiny. Losing is not an option, better yet, only a figment of my brother's imagination.
Hopefully I didn't bore you too much, and you may be interested to watch this epic race. Please leave thoughts, feelings, or emotions at your own discretion here or on my Facebook. All of your opinions are accepted. (Statements against me will leave you subject to harsh consequence.)
Summer 2010... World War SEBU
Until next time....We are all Witnesses
Long Live The Prince
Friday, December 4, 2009
Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week
Hello my little monsters. It's Friday again, and you know what that means. This week's recipient was an easy one to chose. As I sat down with the officials of Club SEBU Inc., we came to a unanimous decision.
This weeks winner is my fellow Section IV-er, Brendan Nugent.
Now back in Section IV, CV Warriors and Golden Bears do not get along. Here in the Dirty Buff, we are like two peas in a pod. I am not exactly sure what that means but it sounds good.
Mr. Nugent has been a regular at the Club SEBU Headquarters and we welcome him with opened arms. As the first non-Sebu to win this award, he has become a pioneer and a positive advocate for the Club.
Brendan, congratulations on this distinguished honor and your loyalty to the Club. Until next time, rock rock to the Planet Rock.....don't stop.
Long Live The Fans
"reading this is my favorite way to procrastinate on homework" (Nugent Facebook)
This weeks winner is my fellow Section IV-er, Brendan Nugent.
Now back in Section IV, CV Warriors and Golden Bears do not get along. Here in the Dirty Buff, we are like two peas in a pod. I am not exactly sure what that means but it sounds good.
Mr. Nugent has been a regular at the Club SEBU Headquarters and we welcome him with opened arms. As the first non-Sebu to win this award, he has become a pioneer and a positive advocate for the Club.
Brendan, congratulations on this distinguished honor and your loyalty to the Club. Until next time, rock rock to the Planet Rock.....don't stop.
Long Live The Fans
"reading this is my favorite way to procrastinate on homework" (Nugent Facebook)
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Club SEBU Notice
I apologize for the lack of posts lately. I have recently been bombarded with a large load of work since we college students have approached the most bittersweet time of the year...finals week. For my loyal fans, I am truly sorry but I may not be able to produce as many wonderful stories for a couple weeks. I am not declaring a hiatus from the Blog-world, but I am just asking for your patience while I embark on the final assessments of my first semester in Jail. Once the semester ends (December 11th), I will be bringing the heat regularly as previously promised in my first post, First day.
If this is the first Blog you have read, continue as directed:
Long Live The Prince
If this is the first Blog you have read, continue as directed:
- Briefly scan through "Club SEBU"
- Read through "Club SEBU"
- Reread "Club SEBU"
Long Live The Prince
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