Monsters all over the world. Big and small, girl or boy, student or dropout. Buffalo has made sure that I have been quite busy for the last couple months, but have no fear because your beloved Prince is back. It has been far too long since we last spoke. I just hope that you missed me a little while I was gone.
On May 7, 2010, I asked that you all allowed me to reintroduce myself and today I ask if I could do the same. I am The Prince. I am now a Sophomore at the University at Buffalo, just holding it down for the Team SEBU Headquarters stationed in Western NY. Between school, my job as a Resident's Adviser (4th floor please rise), and my new sport, basketball (still got love for my track family too), Team SEBU has certainly seen a more versatile Prince than ever before. Unfortunately through this, I began to lose touch with the livest club of them all, Club SEBU. I know my monsters all over the world missed me, but I may have missed you more. Doubtful, but a possibility.
I understand that this post is awfully short, but don't worry, I am back. I also understand you may be upset and expected much more, but you have my word, I will supply the goods very, very soon. Give me some time to sharpen my craft. I am making a comeback just like Kanye, and just like 'Ye, no one man should have all this power. But since we do, we will continue to revolutionize the music and blog world, respectively. I beg you to prepare yourself...The Prince is here, and the time is now. Until next time, don't look down, it's an impossible view.
Long Live The Prince
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Somewhere Over The Rainbow
In recent years, I have noticed that Domino's Pizza Parlor has been receiving a lot of flack for its "sub par" pizza. Now I am not a pizza expert, but I know what I like. Quite frankly, there are very few pizza's that actually taste different for me. In other words, all pizza tastes the same to me. As long as it has a hearty crust (essential for an enjoyable pizza-eating experience as it serves multiple purposes, but primarily a delectable, editable handle), some fine cheese, and a dash of sauce with no unidentified leaves or spices, I will most certainly enjoy it.
Let's recap.
At this point, all you know is that I have very minimal or non functioning taste buds when it comes to pizza (or any food for that matter due to The Pursuit of 170). That is a perfectly normal assessment based on the information I have given you, but this is much deeper than that. Roughly 20 minutes ago, I embarked on what quite possibly could be the most delicious adventure of my life.
Reverting back to the Domino's reference would be a wise thing to do at the moment, so join me as we rewind the tape. As I said, Domino's Pizza seems to be falling in the pizza industry. But when my stomach was rumbling and that was the only place I knew where I could order food online (extremely lazy), it simply didn't matter. I wanted food and I wanted it soon. I proceeded to log onto the website and filed in all the information necessary. I then clicked "Build your Order". I felted so empowered with this newly acquired freedom. I knew things would only go up after this, and as expected, I was so correct. I came across the options of Cheese Pizza, with my favorite sauce (Barbecue), and my favorite meat (Bacon), coupled with my favorite soda (Root Beer). I assumed that 3 of my favorite things with Pizza could do no wrong. Naturally I confirmed the order and waited patiently.
"Hello. This is Domino's. We have your order." That is a direct quote from the delivery man. I rushed to the spot, got the goods, and rushed back to my room to indulge.
Now I could go on for days about how delicious the meal actually was, but there would not be enough paper to properly depict the burst of flavor in each bite. If that wasn't good enough, the ice cold Root Beer set me on a natural high that can't be explained. I looked at the pizza closely for confirmation as I didn't think it was real. There was no way something this wonderful could land in my hands. I had found the pot of gold, better yet, the cardboard box with BBQ and Bacon pizza in it. I know I am quite the extraordinary gentleman, but a gift of this caliber is one I did not deserve. In the spirit of good gift-receiving, I obviously gobbled up the entire pizza and never looked back. I even contemplated sending Domino's a thank you card, but decided against it because I think I would lose all creditability as a human. If they 'deliver' (pun intended) like this again, I may not have any choice but to do so. As it stands today, Domino's has catapulted its way into my heart and a top the pizza industry. No parlor has ever satisfied me like the delicious BBQ and Bacon pizza at Domino's. For that, I commend you Domino's Pizza and would like to personally invite you to The Prince's Suite at any given time. That being said, the only binding stipulation to that invitation clearly is that the BBQ and Bacon pizza must venture with you. Thank you for making my night that much better. You will be rewarded.
If you had made it this far in my monologue and enjoyed it, I appreciate your dedication and understanding. On the contrary, if you were disappointed, well than that's an issue you'll have to take up with a Club SEBU supervisor who is willing to listen. Since I am the sole Club SEBU supervisor (along with every other official position), I have no answers for you at the moment as it is past my office hours. Also, my policy regarding those of you who do not like my posts, as stated in my Hater's Disclaimer given out on the first day of Club SEBU, remains the same. Basically don't waste your time, or more importantly, mine. I hope that wasn't too harsh.
I hope this helped at least one of you little monsters who are currently looking for a fantastic midnight snack. I do this for you. In the mean time, I need to get my beauty rest and so do you. Thank you for staying at The Prince's Suite. Until next time nothing's lovelier than you.
Long Live The Prince
Let's recap.
At this point, all you know is that I have very minimal or non functioning taste buds when it comes to pizza (or any food for that matter due to The Pursuit of 170). That is a perfectly normal assessment based on the information I have given you, but this is much deeper than that. Roughly 20 minutes ago, I embarked on what quite possibly could be the most delicious adventure of my life.
Reverting back to the Domino's reference would be a wise thing to do at the moment, so join me as we rewind the tape. As I said, Domino's Pizza seems to be falling in the pizza industry. But when my stomach was rumbling and that was the only place I knew where I could order food online (extremely lazy), it simply didn't matter. I wanted food and I wanted it soon. I proceeded to log onto the website and filed in all the information necessary. I then clicked "Build your Order". I felted so empowered with this newly acquired freedom. I knew things would only go up after this, and as expected, I was so correct. I came across the options of Cheese Pizza, with my favorite sauce (Barbecue), and my favorite meat (Bacon), coupled with my favorite soda (Root Beer). I assumed that 3 of my favorite things with Pizza could do no wrong. Naturally I confirmed the order and waited patiently.
"Hello. This is Domino's. We have your order." That is a direct quote from the delivery man. I rushed to the spot, got the goods, and rushed back to my room to indulge.
Now I could go on for days about how delicious the meal actually was, but there would not be enough paper to properly depict the burst of flavor in each bite. If that wasn't good enough, the ice cold Root Beer set me on a natural high that can't be explained. I looked at the pizza closely for confirmation as I didn't think it was real. There was no way something this wonderful could land in my hands. I had found the pot of gold, better yet, the cardboard box with BBQ and Bacon pizza in it. I know I am quite the extraordinary gentleman, but a gift of this caliber is one I did not deserve. In the spirit of good gift-receiving, I obviously gobbled up the entire pizza and never looked back. I even contemplated sending Domino's a thank you card, but decided against it because I think I would lose all creditability as a human. If they 'deliver' (pun intended) like this again, I may not have any choice but to do so. As it stands today, Domino's has catapulted its way into my heart and a top the pizza industry. No parlor has ever satisfied me like the delicious BBQ and Bacon pizza at Domino's. For that, I commend you Domino's Pizza and would like to personally invite you to The Prince's Suite at any given time. That being said, the only binding stipulation to that invitation clearly is that the BBQ and Bacon pizza must venture with you. Thank you for making my night that much better. You will be rewarded.
If you had made it this far in my monologue and enjoyed it, I appreciate your dedication and understanding. On the contrary, if you were disappointed, well than that's an issue you'll have to take up with a Club SEBU supervisor who is willing to listen. Since I am the sole Club SEBU supervisor (along with every other official position), I have no answers for you at the moment as it is past my office hours. Also, my policy regarding those of you who do not like my posts, as stated in my Hater's Disclaimer given out on the first day of Club SEBU, remains the same. Basically don't waste your time, or more importantly, mine. I hope that wasn't too harsh.
I hope this helped at least one of you little monsters who are currently looking for a fantastic midnight snack. I do this for you. In the mean time, I need to get my beauty rest and so do you. Thank you for staying at The Prince's Suite. Until next time nothing's lovelier than you.
Long Live The Prince
Sunday, August 15, 2010
The End of an Era
And in a blink of an eye it is all over.
If you're thinking Club SEBU is making its departure, think again. 10 years from now we'll still be on top. As much as I would hate to hurt DJ Khaled's feelings (note sarcasm), we are indefinitely the best. The Era that I speak of is the one and only Summer 2010.
For those who do not know, I am currently back in Buffalo for another fun filled year of studying and doing my own laundry. It seems as though I never even returned home for summer vacation considering how quickly it went by. Furthermore, there is nothing I can do at this point to bring summer back so I might as well move on. Since you are probably eager for some more Blog, I feel it is necessary to pay homage to the late Summer 2010, by recapping some major events that I encountered.
First and foremost, I owe the Blogworld an immense apology. At this point you are probably wondering why I must apologize since I rarely make mistakes, but I stand here in my dorm room like a man and admit to all that I, Prince Sebuharara, indeed messed up. What is it that I am apologizing for you ask? As many of you may have assumed, the ESPY nominated (Best Sports Moment of the Year), highly anticipated, SEBU-lympics never occurred this summer. Despite my constant jawwing and Don King-esque promoting, my arch nemesis Loic and I just could not find the time between work, lifting and basketball to participate in either of the races. I understand that a lot of little monsters are quite upset and I sincerely apologize for that. I would also like to apologize to my arch nemesis for not smacking him into reality after I demolished him in both races and abolished his running career. Unfortunately he will have to continue on a little longer actually believing he can beat me. In due time he will learn. I do not want to make the same mistake as last year, but something tells me that this chapter of my life is far from ended. Be on the look out, because the Saga of The SEBU-lympics certainly continues.
On to some other business.
The Pursuit of 170 lbs. This phrase was the motive of my entire summer and could have very well defined how I lived my life for the last 3 months. When I left Buffalo, I weighed a modest 160 lbs, and before I traveled back, I wanted to weigh in at 170 lbs so that I can finally break free from the ridiculous claim that I am skinny. If I saw 170 lbs on the scale, then people would be forced to believe me when I would say I am 'The Baddest Man on the Planet' (after Iron Mike Tyson of course). 170 lbs would allow me to achieve my goals such as beating my brother in Xbox 360, fighting crime in the wilderness (Bears, Foxes, etc), and taking over the World. So, after a long and strenuous summer, I stepped onto the scale and this is what I read. Drum roll please. 162 lbs. Failure. It seems as though whatever amount of food I ate, I continually lost weight. I could not believe my eyes and quite frankly could not believe the scale. A few minutes later, once I woke up from passing out, I realized something. My weight is not what is holding me back from accomplishing those prior goals. Like a Lion, I am already King of the jungle and I can probably achieve them now with the right focus, determination, and a sprinkle of luck. In conclusion, like age, weight is nothing but a number. In retrospect, I will still be in the Pursuit of 170 lbs because my pride will not let me lose this battle. In the mean time, stay tuned as I will most definitely keep the world 'posted' (pun intended) on my weight gain, or better yet loss.
Now what would summer be without basketball? As you already know from prior posts, I am an active member of M2 Basketball. This is the only team I pledge allegiance to. We are an army of men who slowly but surely are protecting the game of basketball. Our teams win/loss record may not have been great but I certainly had fun with my M2 brethren through thick and thin. I'd tell you our record, but I don't feel it is that important at this point and time. There is a far more important statement I must reiterate from an earlier post. Be aware that M2 (along side Team SEBU and Nets Nation) will be making a huge impact in the coming years. You heard it here first, and don't try to take credit for it.
If you were wondering, we played 9 games. You can talk amongst yourselves to determine how many we won and lost. I'll never tell.
Well my eyeballs are becoming a tad strained and I am feeling a little tired. Hopefully as the semester starts, stories will begin to flow in, giving me a surplus of writing material to keep all my little monsters sufficiently occupied while procrastinating. It is my duty to do so. To quote the King himself, LeBron James (not you Joe Mexico), "Don't think for one min that I haven't been taking mental notes of everyone taking shots at me this summer. And I mean everyone!" (Twitter). I am indeed taking mental notes, but to those of you who are showing love and support (this one includes you Joe Mexico). I bid farewell and until next time all I do is win, win, win...no matter what.
Long Live The Prince
If you're thinking Club SEBU is making its departure, think again. 10 years from now we'll still be on top. As much as I would hate to hurt DJ Khaled's feelings (note sarcasm), we are indefinitely the best. The Era that I speak of is the one and only Summer 2010.
For those who do not know, I am currently back in Buffalo for another fun filled year of studying and doing my own laundry. It seems as though I never even returned home for summer vacation considering how quickly it went by. Furthermore, there is nothing I can do at this point to bring summer back so I might as well move on. Since you are probably eager for some more Blog, I feel it is necessary to pay homage to the late Summer 2010, by recapping some major events that I encountered.
First and foremost, I owe the Blogworld an immense apology. At this point you are probably wondering why I must apologize since I rarely make mistakes, but I stand here in my dorm room like a man and admit to all that I, Prince Sebuharara, indeed messed up. What is it that I am apologizing for you ask? As many of you may have assumed, the ESPY nominated (Best Sports Moment of the Year), highly anticipated, SEBU-lympics never occurred this summer. Despite my constant jawwing and Don King-esque promoting, my arch nemesis Loic and I just could not find the time between work, lifting and basketball to participate in either of the races. I understand that a lot of little monsters are quite upset and I sincerely apologize for that. I would also like to apologize to my arch nemesis for not smacking him into reality after I demolished him in both races and abolished his running career. Unfortunately he will have to continue on a little longer actually believing he can beat me. In due time he will learn. I do not want to make the same mistake as last year, but something tells me that this chapter of my life is far from ended. Be on the look out, because the Saga of The SEBU-lympics certainly continues.
On to some other business.
The Pursuit of 170 lbs. This phrase was the motive of my entire summer and could have very well defined how I lived my life for the last 3 months. When I left Buffalo, I weighed a modest 160 lbs, and before I traveled back, I wanted to weigh in at 170 lbs so that I can finally break free from the ridiculous claim that I am skinny. If I saw 170 lbs on the scale, then people would be forced to believe me when I would say I am 'The Baddest Man on the Planet' (after Iron Mike Tyson of course). 170 lbs would allow me to achieve my goals such as beating my brother in Xbox 360, fighting crime in the wilderness (Bears, Foxes, etc), and taking over the World. So, after a long and strenuous summer, I stepped onto the scale and this is what I read. Drum roll please. 162 lbs. Failure. It seems as though whatever amount of food I ate, I continually lost weight. I could not believe my eyes and quite frankly could not believe the scale. A few minutes later, once I woke up from passing out, I realized something. My weight is not what is holding me back from accomplishing those prior goals. Like a Lion, I am already King of the jungle and I can probably achieve them now with the right focus, determination, and a sprinkle of luck. In conclusion, like age, weight is nothing but a number. In retrospect, I will still be in the Pursuit of 170 lbs because my pride will not let me lose this battle. In the mean time, stay tuned as I will most definitely keep the world 'posted' (pun intended) on my weight gain, or better yet loss.
Now what would summer be without basketball? As you already know from prior posts, I am an active member of M2 Basketball. This is the only team I pledge allegiance to. We are an army of men who slowly but surely are protecting the game of basketball. Our teams win/loss record may not have been great but I certainly had fun with my M2 brethren through thick and thin. I'd tell you our record, but I don't feel it is that important at this point and time. There is a far more important statement I must reiterate from an earlier post. Be aware that M2 (along side Team SEBU and Nets Nation) will be making a huge impact in the coming years. You heard it here first, and don't try to take credit for it.
If you were wondering, we played 9 games. You can talk amongst yourselves to determine how many we won and lost. I'll never tell.
Well my eyeballs are becoming a tad strained and I am feeling a little tired. Hopefully as the semester starts, stories will begin to flow in, giving me a surplus of writing material to keep all my little monsters sufficiently occupied while procrastinating. It is my duty to do so. To quote the King himself, LeBron James (not you Joe Mexico), "Don't think for one min that I haven't been taking mental notes of everyone taking shots at me this summer. And I mean everyone!" (Twitter). I am indeed taking mental notes, but to those of you who are showing love and support (this one includes you Joe Mexico). I bid farewell and until next time all I do is win, win, win...no matter what.
Long Live The Prince
Friday, July 16, 2010
Guess who's back?
Hello little boys and little girls.
The Prince is back....hold the applause.
It has certainly been some time since we last spoke but it is good to be back. During the hiatus, a lot of good has presented itself. I am currently enjoying the most wonderful season of the world; World Cup season. This is when I get to dust off the old cleats and shin guards, and wow spectators with my sub-par and rusty soccer skills. At times I believe I could be the next Lionel Messi or Didier Drogba, but then I remember actually playing soccer and realize how bad I've become and how it is probably better that I leave that sport to them and focus on Club SEBU. There's no one who can write a blog like me. I'm something like a King in the Blogworld. Maybe a Prince (pun intended). Furthermore, considering the World Cup only occurs every 4 years, I am exceptionally giddy when it arrives. Although the ending was a tad disappointing this year, I would like to take this time to gives some thanks. Thank you to Cristiano Ronaldo for the extraordinary skill to match his perfectly coiffed hair. Thank you to Ghana for lasting as long as you did. You made the motherland proud. And last but certainly not least, thank you Alexi Lalas. Actually, we should all thank him for, despite working with analysts with very strong accents, and unique cadences, being the only one who made little to no sense in all of his appearances and giving us all the hope of one day becoming a wealthy sports journalist in a sport that we clearly aren't as familiar with as some may seem. I saw right through you Mr. Lalas, but if it makes you feel any better, Alexi Lalas > kobe. Sorry, but that's just how the cookies crumble.
Another addition to my day to day life is M2. This is a crucial part of my individuality. What is M2 you ask? It is a movement. It is an establishment. It is a heartbeat, and the blood needed to operate eternal existence. M2 is a way of life as well as the name of my summer basketball team. Although we are going through some tough times as a team, I still enjoy every bit of it. It is only a matter of time before M2 takes over the world along side Mikhail Prokhorov and Team SEBU. 2012 will not be the end of the world, it will be the beginning of new generation. Nets Nation, M2, and Team SEBU please rise as we prepare for battle. You heard it first and have been warned.
Now that I think about it, give us until 2014 since the losses have become a little too familiar with us. But as always, we shall prevail.
Any who, on to the next one.
I also just finished my third week of my summer job. To set it off, I will inform you on what I do. I work at a local playground as a park instructor for kids ranging from the ages of 5 to about 14. Despite the minor adjustment of waking up each morning at 7:45, the weeks have been marvelous. Considering the days prior I was waking up around 10:30 everyday just to sit in the living room and accomplish nothing all day, I feel like I have made the right career choice. Not only that, I am having fun doing it. Nothing like killing two birds with one stone. (No birds were harmed in the crafting of this post).
As I sit here on my computer, I realize that my eyes are burning from the lack of sleep I have been receiving this week. I do apologize, but I will not give up on Club SEBU and should be posting for months, possibly years to come. In essence, I ask for you to sit tight and enjoy the ride. The Prince is here to stay. Like always thank you little monsters for your precious time. Until next time that wasn't me Rhonda.
Long Live The Prince
The Prince is back....hold the applause.
It has certainly been some time since we last spoke but it is good to be back. During the hiatus, a lot of good has presented itself. I am currently enjoying the most wonderful season of the world; World Cup season. This is when I get to dust off the old cleats and shin guards, and wow spectators with my sub-par and rusty soccer skills. At times I believe I could be the next Lionel Messi or Didier Drogba, but then I remember actually playing soccer and realize how bad I've become and how it is probably better that I leave that sport to them and focus on Club SEBU. There's no one who can write a blog like me. I'm something like a King in the Blogworld. Maybe a Prince (pun intended). Furthermore, considering the World Cup only occurs every 4 years, I am exceptionally giddy when it arrives. Although the ending was a tad disappointing this year, I would like to take this time to gives some thanks. Thank you to Cristiano Ronaldo for the extraordinary skill to match his perfectly coiffed hair. Thank you to Ghana for lasting as long as you did. You made the motherland proud. And last but certainly not least, thank you Alexi Lalas. Actually, we should all thank him for, despite working with analysts with very strong accents, and unique cadences, being the only one who made little to no sense in all of his appearances and giving us all the hope of one day becoming a wealthy sports journalist in a sport that we clearly aren't as familiar with as some may seem. I saw right through you Mr. Lalas, but if it makes you feel any better, Alexi Lalas > kobe. Sorry, but that's just how the cookies crumble.
Another addition to my day to day life is M2. This is a crucial part of my individuality. What is M2 you ask? It is a movement. It is an establishment. It is a heartbeat, and the blood needed to operate eternal existence. M2 is a way of life as well as the name of my summer basketball team. Although we are going through some tough times as a team, I still enjoy every bit of it. It is only a matter of time before M2 takes over the world along side Mikhail Prokhorov and Team SEBU. 2012 will not be the end of the world, it will be the beginning of new generation. Nets Nation, M2, and Team SEBU please rise as we prepare for battle. You heard it first and have been warned.
Now that I think about it, give us until 2014 since the losses have become a little too familiar with us. But as always, we shall prevail.
Any who, on to the next one.
I also just finished my third week of my summer job. To set it off, I will inform you on what I do. I work at a local playground as a park instructor for kids ranging from the ages of 5 to about 14. Despite the minor adjustment of waking up each morning at 7:45, the weeks have been marvelous. Considering the days prior I was waking up around 10:30 everyday just to sit in the living room and accomplish nothing all day, I feel like I have made the right career choice. Not only that, I am having fun doing it. Nothing like killing two birds with one stone. (No birds were harmed in the crafting of this post).
As I sit here on my computer, I realize that my eyes are burning from the lack of sleep I have been receiving this week. I do apologize, but I will not give up on Club SEBU and should be posting for months, possibly years to come. In essence, I ask for you to sit tight and enjoy the ride. The Prince is here to stay. Like always thank you little monsters for your precious time. Until next time that wasn't me Rhonda.
Long Live The Prince
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Elbow Grease
As many of you already know, I am a versatile human, a character of many traits, a Renaissance man if you will. In my week home, I have harnessed another wonderful talent.
Fresh off of my freshmen year in college, no pun intended, my brother did not hesitate to put me to work immediately upon my arrival. Despite an ailing eyeball, I decided that I am a warrior and will be able to work just as efficiently no matter the current state of my vision. In actuality, I am STILL only tipping the scales at 160 lbs to my brother's 175 lbs, and felt that disputing his requests could end up bad for me. A hint of fear definitely drove my decision.
When I arrived at his Den, he directed me to the master bedroom and told me I would be applying a second coat of paint to the wall. He described the painting as a pretty easy task that shouldn't take too long. As he left for work with a smile on his face, I was eager to start working.
I proceeded to turn on my music and ready myself for the upcoming endeavor. Little did I know, I was no where near prepared for this. For the next 5 hours, I sat in an empty room filled with nothing more than an intoxicating aroma and paint splatters on every part of my body. What was supposed to be a relaxing yet productive way to spend my day turned out to be a disaster. To make matters even worse, I knew accepting this job had officially made me the Den's designated painter.
Although the circumstance at hand initially seemed horrible for me, I learned that my skills as a painter were unprecedented. I realized that I actually enjoyed painting now that I understood I was the MVP. Most Valuable Painter. I saw that my precision and accuracy was not only impressive to say the least, it was something I began to take a lot of pride in. I have become one with the paint brush and there was no stopping me. In 5 hours, painting has become my calling and another bullet on my resume.
If you had made it this far in my self-realization, you are probably, yet again upset with my ability to lure you into pointless and ridiculous stories. I cannot apologize since at any point this page could have been exited out. Why one would ever do that is completely besides me. Furthermore, I hope you enjoyed your stay at Club SEBU. It was my pleasure to host you. This should be a big summer for Club SEBU so stay tuned. Until next time, M2, it's a way of life.
Long Live The Prince
Fresh off of my freshmen year in college, no pun intended, my brother did not hesitate to put me to work immediately upon my arrival. Despite an ailing eyeball, I decided that I am a warrior and will be able to work just as efficiently no matter the current state of my vision. In actuality, I am STILL only tipping the scales at 160 lbs to my brother's 175 lbs, and felt that disputing his requests could end up bad for me. A hint of fear definitely drove my decision.
When I arrived at his Den, he directed me to the master bedroom and told me I would be applying a second coat of paint to the wall. He described the painting as a pretty easy task that shouldn't take too long. As he left for work with a smile on his face, I was eager to start working.
I proceeded to turn on my music and ready myself for the upcoming endeavor. Little did I know, I was no where near prepared for this. For the next 5 hours, I sat in an empty room filled with nothing more than an intoxicating aroma and paint splatters on every part of my body. What was supposed to be a relaxing yet productive way to spend my day turned out to be a disaster. To make matters even worse, I knew accepting this job had officially made me the Den's designated painter.
Although the circumstance at hand initially seemed horrible for me, I learned that my skills as a painter were unprecedented. I realized that I actually enjoyed painting now that I understood I was the MVP. Most Valuable Painter. I saw that my precision and accuracy was not only impressive to say the least, it was something I began to take a lot of pride in. I have become one with the paint brush and there was no stopping me. In 5 hours, painting has become my calling and another bullet on my resume.
If you had made it this far in my self-realization, you are probably, yet again upset with my ability to lure you into pointless and ridiculous stories. I cannot apologize since at any point this page could have been exited out. Why one would ever do that is completely besides me. Furthermore, I hope you enjoyed your stay at Club SEBU. It was my pleasure to host you. This should be a big summer for Club SEBU so stay tuned. Until next time, M2, it's a way of life.
Long Live The Prince
Friday, May 7, 2010
Allow me to reintroduce myself
My name is Prince. Don't call it a comeback, I've been here for years. I'd like to welcome all my monsters back to the hottest spot on the block, Club SEBU. I have finished classes, finals and my first year of college, so now I can channel my energy back into the important things of life.
Before we get it started, I'd like to apologize for the unannounced departure from the game. Like the World's best connoisseurs (Michael Jordan, Jay-Z, Eminem, Dave Chappelle, etc), sometimes a brief retirement is needed to rejuvenate our craft. But don't you worry, the Prince is back and here to stay.
In my time away, a lot has changed with me. I would like to use this post as a reintroduction of the one and only; new and improved; the oh so daring artist currently known as Prince. Although I still stand at 6'0" and still weigh in as the skinniest man on the track and field team (allegedly), I have finally decided to take a larger step into adulthood and decided to grow out a full functioning man beard. Now I know it is devastating and shocking to hear that this adorable baby-face has been invaded by hair in the chin region, but all I can tell you is that it is Human Nature, and it was going to happen eventually. For those of you who are really uncomfortable with the new me, don't worry, I like to keep my beard to a modest 10 -15 (depending on how many I count) strands of hair as a tool to make this transition a little smoother. I hope you appreciate this gesture.
Furthermore, I'd like to elaborate on a statement made earlier. It read, in reference to my appearance, "still weigh in as the skinniest man on the track and field team (allegedly)" (Allow me to reintroduce myself). I am sure you are wondering why I parenthesized 'allegedly', in what seems to be an obviously true statement. Here's where I strike you with some knowledge. In the eyes of the team, I am the skinniest, but through my eyes, I have past that stage of life and am just inches away from LeBron James status. This is because I look deeper than the skin for I am not shallow. It took me some time to realize the truth, but I now understand that the "skinny Prince" is nothing but a mere illusion of the mind. I forgive those who have yet to see the light, better yet, see the weight.
What else is new? Well since you asked, I will share. I am 19 years old now as of April 8th, 2010. Hard to believe, but I am less than a year away from being a 20 year old. Scary thought. Unfortunately, my birthday was a disappointing for the 19th year in a row. Each year, I have tried to use my birthday as a tool to push me forward in my efforts to becoming the King. I try to get people to understand how grand my reign would be, but each year my totalitarian motives are discouraged. Besides that, I am always told "Richie, you know your brother is King". After the SEBU-lympics 2010, they will be singing a new tune. Until then I will continue to sing along with Simba, as I just can't wait to be King.
It was nice to waste time with you again. As much as you missed me, I missed you monsters more. Actually you probably did miss me more, but that's for another blog. This really wasn't anything too flashy, but you monsters have been waiting for some time, and I just wanted to deliver a little bit of that addicting funk. As I listen to my Lauryn Hill, and boil some hot water for my next posts, I ask that you get down with your bad self in honor of the resurrection of the finest Club in the universe. I give you my hand to hold as we plunge into a bath of marvelous stories and scenarios that have changed the face of the blogging World. Haw, Be Ready. Hope you enjoy, and until next time, rhythm is a dancer, it's the soul's companion.
Long Live The Prince
Before we get it started, I'd like to apologize for the unannounced departure from the game. Like the World's best connoisseurs (Michael Jordan, Jay-Z, Eminem, Dave Chappelle, etc), sometimes a brief retirement is needed to rejuvenate our craft. But don't you worry, the Prince is back and here to stay.
In my time away, a lot has changed with me. I would like to use this post as a reintroduction of the one and only; new and improved; the oh so daring artist currently known as Prince. Although I still stand at 6'0" and still weigh in as the skinniest man on the track and field team (allegedly), I have finally decided to take a larger step into adulthood and decided to grow out a full functioning man beard. Now I know it is devastating and shocking to hear that this adorable baby-face has been invaded by hair in the chin region, but all I can tell you is that it is Human Nature, and it was going to happen eventually. For those of you who are really uncomfortable with the new me, don't worry, I like to keep my beard to a modest 10 -15 (depending on how many I count) strands of hair as a tool to make this transition a little smoother. I hope you appreciate this gesture.
Furthermore, I'd like to elaborate on a statement made earlier. It read, in reference to my appearance, "still weigh in as the skinniest man on the track and field team (allegedly)" (Allow me to reintroduce myself). I am sure you are wondering why I parenthesized 'allegedly', in what seems to be an obviously true statement. Here's where I strike you with some knowledge. In the eyes of the team, I am the skinniest, but through my eyes, I have past that stage of life and am just inches away from LeBron James status. This is because I look deeper than the skin for I am not shallow. It took me some time to realize the truth, but I now understand that the "skinny Prince" is nothing but a mere illusion of the mind. I forgive those who have yet to see the light, better yet, see the weight.
What else is new? Well since you asked, I will share. I am 19 years old now as of April 8th, 2010. Hard to believe, but I am less than a year away from being a 20 year old. Scary thought. Unfortunately, my birthday was a disappointing for the 19th year in a row. Each year, I have tried to use my birthday as a tool to push me forward in my efforts to becoming the King. I try to get people to understand how grand my reign would be, but each year my totalitarian motives are discouraged. Besides that, I am always told "Richie, you know your brother is King". After the SEBU-lympics 2010, they will be singing a new tune. Until then I will continue to sing along with Simba, as I just can't wait to be King.
It was nice to waste time with you again. As much as you missed me, I missed you monsters more. Actually you probably did miss me more, but that's for another blog. This really wasn't anything too flashy, but you monsters have been waiting for some time, and I just wanted to deliver a little bit of that addicting funk. As I listen to my Lauryn Hill, and boil some hot water for my next posts, I ask that you get down with your bad self in honor of the resurrection of the finest Club in the universe. I give you my hand to hold as we plunge into a bath of marvelous stories and scenarios that have changed the face of the blogging World. Haw, Be Ready. Hope you enjoy, and until next time, rhythm is a dancer, it's the soul's companion.
Long Live The Prince
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Mirror, mirror on the wall...
...who is the Boogiest of them all?
In a landslide, unanimous decision, Divine "Boogey-D" Sebuharara wins. Congrats but this is not the substance of this post. This is in regard to the Summer of 2010.
SEBU-lympics.
Recently, the Javelin specialist, Boogey-D expressed to me that in a Javelin throwing contest she would not only beat me, but she would make it look easy doing it. At the time the statement served as a good laugh, but later on developed a rage within me.
As you may already know, there is nothing I love more than knocking off SEBU's in various competitions to fuel my dominance as the superior SEBU. Quite frankly, Boogey-D does not understand my determination. She will learn.
After I demolish you Buffalonians' proclaimed King, LaJuic, in the 100- and 200-meter dashes and happy feet my way to the finish line, I will smash Boogey-D in our Javelin head to head. Leaving everything on the field and showing nothing more than an innocent smile, I will simply tell her "I told you".
At this point, you all probably assume that I am arrogant, cocky, and an egomaniac. I won't say that I am not, but I will say that I am merely stating the facts and will prove it once and for all come the 2010 SEBU-lympics. Boogey-D: feel free to back down now, just as your brother most likely will, when he sees my Asafa Powell like explosion out of the blocks followed by Usain-esque speed and composure throughout the race. If not, you should understand that I will NOT let you win, and will more than likely try to embarrass you. All is fair in love and winning.
You can have academics and modeling, but in the SEBU household, athletics is mine and I will do anything to take that crown.
Punch your tickets now my little monsters. It will be a show indeed. I just hope my siblings don't mind wearing silver. Until next time call me rude boy.
Long Live The Prince
In a landslide, unanimous decision, Divine "Boogey-D" Sebuharara wins. Congrats but this is not the substance of this post. This is in regard to the Summer of 2010.
SEBU-lympics.
Recently, the Javelin specialist, Boogey-D expressed to me that in a Javelin throwing contest she would not only beat me, but she would make it look easy doing it. At the time the statement served as a good laugh, but later on developed a rage within me.
As you may already know, there is nothing I love more than knocking off SEBU's in various competitions to fuel my dominance as the superior SEBU. Quite frankly, Boogey-D does not understand my determination. She will learn.
After I demolish you Buffalonians' proclaimed King, LaJuic, in the 100- and 200-meter dashes and happy feet my way to the finish line, I will smash Boogey-D in our Javelin head to head. Leaving everything on the field and showing nothing more than an innocent smile, I will simply tell her "I told you".
At this point, you all probably assume that I am arrogant, cocky, and an egomaniac. I won't say that I am not, but I will say that I am merely stating the facts and will prove it once and for all come the 2010 SEBU-lympics. Boogey-D: feel free to back down now, just as your brother most likely will, when he sees my Asafa Powell like explosion out of the blocks followed by Usain-esque speed and composure throughout the race. If not, you should understand that I will NOT let you win, and will more than likely try to embarrass you. All is fair in love and winning.
You can have academics and modeling, but in the SEBU household, athletics is mine and I will do anything to take that crown.
Punch your tickets now my little monsters. It will be a show indeed. I just hope my siblings don't mind wearing silver. Until next time call me rude boy.
Long Live The Prince
Daddy's Home
Welcome back fans. Sorry for the lack of posts lately, but I'm here to save the world again.
If you can't tell by my excessive Facebook status changes, I am back in Vestal. Home of the Prince. I arrived home last Friday and was welcomed by my loving family, the ones who were home at least, (shout outs to The Lord of Darkness and Mama Andrea), and a task set by my brother. I didn't initially know what the task was, yet my brother lured me in to accepting it with a nice romantic dinner at Nirchi's Pizzeria.
He asked me ever so nicely to aid him in shoveling his driveway. Vestal had endured a healthy snow storm, and I felt obligated to help in its reconstruction. He gave no details and I said I'd help.
Despite my always hungry 160 lbs frame, clearly I had bit off way more than I can chew in the waist high driveway snow. As my mother and I switched shovel shifts, my brother watched on contently, basking in the glory of yet again outsmarting me. Feeling bad for my mother, I let her sit in the car as I shoveled away the snow. An hour had past, and I had not completed any more than a 8 by 2 foot path, surrounded by a much larger snow-filled driveway. Did I finish the driveway you ask? Absolutely not. A riot was necessary. I was no longer going be regarded as a work horse by all the neighbors looking and laughing. I threw the shovel and said enough was enough. My brother would have to deal with it himself.
Actually a family friend came by and informed us that he would not mind clearing the driveway out with a big truck otherwise known as a Backhoe. Such a kind man. Bless his heart, although he interfered with my most recent boycott attempt.
When I got into the house, my brother once again tricked me into doing more busy work. This time he played an array of Michael Jackson, Lady GaGa and Madonna music, and let the rhythm soak into my skin throughout my bloodstream. Once the funk hit my nervous system, I was indulged in its fury and experienced the natural high, more commonly know as "The Gushie Stuff". Out of my element and getting my dance on, my brother instructed me to help take down "wallpapes". As he stripped wall after wall and laughed at my misfortune, I began to realize that this break that the University at Buffalo gave me has turned into a experiment for The Bad Guy (my brother) and I was the primary lab rat. Just to give you an idea of how difficult it was, my brother cleared an accumulative 1 whole wall before I completed 6 inches of "wallpapes". Embarrassing, I know.
This is me working under the supervision and nurturing care of Mama Andrea.
If you can't tell by my excessive Facebook status changes, I am back in Vestal. Home of the Prince. I arrived home last Friday and was welcomed by my loving family, the ones who were home at least, (shout outs to The Lord of Darkness and Mama Andrea), and a task set by my brother. I didn't initially know what the task was, yet my brother lured me in to accepting it with a nice romantic dinner at Nirchi's Pizzeria.
He asked me ever so nicely to aid him in shoveling his driveway. Vestal had endured a healthy snow storm, and I felt obligated to help in its reconstruction. He gave no details and I said I'd help.
Despite my always hungry 160 lbs frame, clearly I had bit off way more than I can chew in the waist high driveway snow. As my mother and I switched shovel shifts, my brother watched on contently, basking in the glory of yet again outsmarting me. Feeling bad for my mother, I let her sit in the car as I shoveled away the snow. An hour had past, and I had not completed any more than a 8 by 2 foot path, surrounded by a much larger snow-filled driveway. Did I finish the driveway you ask? Absolutely not. A riot was necessary. I was no longer going be regarded as a work horse by all the neighbors looking and laughing. I threw the shovel and said enough was enough. My brother would have to deal with it himself.Actually a family friend came by and informed us that he would not mind clearing the driveway out with a big truck otherwise known as a Backhoe. Such a kind man. Bless his heart, although he interfered with my most recent boycott attempt.
When I got into the house, my brother once again tricked me into doing more busy work. This time he played an array of Michael Jackson, Lady GaGa and Madonna music, and let the rhythm soak into my skin throughout my bloodstream. Once the funk hit my nervous system, I was indulged in its fury and experienced the natural high, more commonly know as "The Gushie Stuff". Out of my element and getting my dance on, my brother instructed me to help take down "wallpapes". As he stripped wall after wall and laughed at my misfortune, I began to realize that this break that the University at Buffalo gave me has turned into a experiment for The Bad Guy (my brother) and I was the primary lab rat. Just to give you an idea of how difficult it was, my brother cleared an accumulative 1 whole wall before I completed 6 inches of "wallpapes". Embarrassing, I know.
This is me working under the supervision and nurturing care of Mama Andrea.
The Villain.
As you can see, my time here in Vestal has been filled with jobs, duties, and tasks. Although it has been difficult and humiliating to be continually outsmarted by The Bad Guy, time with the family is what I live for. After all the snow in my shoes and paper cuts on my fingers, I still know that the minute I wake up Sunday and prepare to go back to Buffalo, I will miss Vestal. Hopefully when I come back next time, I will be the one to outsmart and embarrass my brother. I hope he's ready. Until next time get into the groove.
Long Live The Prince
Long Live The Prince
Monday, March 1, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
1 Hour and 30 Minutes
I do not know how to start this one. I am truly at a loss for words in my most recent scenario, yet compelled to share it with you.
It all started in the city of Akron. Land of LeBron James. We were there for a Track and Field meet and were relaxing in the hotel.
After some quality time and teammate bonding with Chan "The Love Man" Brown, I felt it was necessary to run away, so I began to run. I was approaching the elevator and ran into everyone's favorite 400 meter hurdler Brooklynn Ventura. She was going on the same elevator, so we entered. I pressed "Door Close" so Mr. Brown couldn't get on, but as they closed and I turned around, he was right behind me, smiling as if I was his next victim.
The following is a detailed description of the next hour and a half of my life. This is all based on true events.
As in any elevator trip, everyone pressed the respective floor they were going to. The only difference in this trip was that the elevator apparently picked a floor too. I didn't see the button it pressed but the sudden drop of the elevator was a slight sign. We all looked at each other and immediately knew something was wrong. We felt no movement and heard no sounds. Were we stuck on the elevator? Not even in my wildest dreams has this happened, but yes, we were stuck on the elevator between the 3rd and 2nd floors.
The first one to fall victim to the emotion of panic, too many peoples surprise...Brooklynn. Approximately 1 minute after we discovered that we were stuck, Ms. Ventura had already had enough. It also didn't help that she had to use the bathroom, developing a disruptive sensation for poor Ms. Ventura and unleashing was is often referred to as "Angry Brooklynn".
In the midst of Brooklynn's newly acquired rage, Mr. Brown, calmly picked up the emergency phone and spoke to a representative at the front desk. He peacefully asked for assistance and politely thanked them for their help. This is when it sunk in that I was stuck in an elevator and did not know when I was getting out.
According to Brooklynn, she still had to use the bathroom.
We sat in the elevator waiting for a few minutes until we heard voices. Excited and energized, we all stood up, hoping our adventure was over. It was our loving teammates. They all came to the door asking about Brooklynn's safety and ensuring that she was okay. They asked how she was doing and made sure that nothing had happened to her. Nothing was asked about Chandler or I, putting a huge dent in our self-esteem and sense of security. Well there was a dent in mine to say the least.
For the next 15 minutes, each individual teammate asked the following. "Are you stuck in the elevator?" Yes we were, and it hasn't changed since the first person who asked, so quite frankly the repetition was increasingly aggravating. When our teammates left finally, there was a brief moment of panic spotted in "The Love Man" Chan. He said, and I quote "That's it! I'm busting out of this elevator!" I looked on as I watched him transform into a ferocious Andrew-like specimen. He approached the doors, let out an almighty roar, and began to slide open the doors. My mouth dropped as did my heart. The "joy" of "teammate bonding" had just increased to an unimaginable level.
What seemed like our way out was only a false alarm, as there was another door that could not be opened so we were back at square one. To make matters even worse, our teammates came back. This time with a cop who informed us that we had to wait another 30-45 minutes before someone could come to help us out. This was the worst news to hear when stuck in an elevator, because Brooklynn made sure we knew, at 5 minute increments, that she still had to use the bathroom.
We were trapped in the elevator, unsure of when we were to be released. As caged animals, we had minimal food sources (two half eaten Pasta Bowls from Domino's to be precise, which were later used as pillows), no interaction with anyone but each other, could only be spoken to through a tiny slit in the elevator door, and a slightly polluted air source (the polluter has not come forth yet). Delirium ensued.
Napping was amongst my first options, but after Chan and I discovered the measurements of the elevator, it was going to be too difficult to get comfortable. Also, once Chan was slashed by stray nails that decorated the walls of the elevator twice, I figured that my reckless sleeping habits could prove to be dangerous at this particular time. I tried meditation and prayer as a substitute, yet neither of which brought salvation to the elevator.
Singing was my next option, which was one of the lighter parts of the night. Chan and I sang a beautiful rendition of Shai/Boyz II Men's "If I Ever Fall in Love", as well as an accurate arrangement of "See You In My Nightmares" by Kanye West but the night was stolen by once again, none other than Brooklynn. She managed to squeeze her size 5 feet (give or take half a size) into Chan's size 10 wheat Timberland boots, stood up and performed Ke$ha's "Tik Tok". Using innovative dance moves not seen since the late and great King of Pop, Michael Jackson, she gave a performance that I will never in my life forget.
After some guest appearances by our Coaches, and a few more teammates, we remained trapped in the elevator. We had all came to (or at least Chan and I thought we came to) an understanding that our phones had lost service or had low battery at the beginning of this experience, so contact with the outer world was limited and rationed. Chan and I were given one call to my brother, while Brooklynn called two or three people and texted the night away. Can you guess whose phone lost service and had low battery?
Tired, exhausted, and frustrated, we had all come to the realization that we had involuntarily been given a new room for the night and there was nothing we could do about it. No one was coming to save us...ever. I started to reflex on my life and all the important things I have done. I thought about the first time I ever dunked a basketball. I thought about the first time I saw LeBron dunk. I thought about never having the chance to dunk on King Loic after being served numerous facials. Depression ensued, as I felt tears balled up in my eyes.
Then a voice. A voice came to me as if my prayers were being speed dialed back. A savior had come to rescue Brooklynn, Chandler and myself. The man told us to pull two red buttons that had been in the elevator the entire time and instantly the elevator began to move. Why we needed to wait an hour and a half for this was beyond me, but we were free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, free at last.
The doors opened and we rushed out of them like deranged fans, eager to see the 8 anonymous strangers wondering why the elevator was not answering their requests to go upstairs. As they looked confused and bewildered, we told them that we had been stuck on the elevator for an hour and a half. They looked at all three of us as we went back to our rooms, and proceeded to enter the elevator despite our warning. I guess they were feeling daring, but that was not my problem. I had already paid my dues.
I look back at this night and truly am shocked that it actually happened. In contrast it has made its way into the realm of the most eventful nights of my life and I surely don't think it would be possible for me to forget it. I must thank my teammates Brooklynn Ventura and Chandler Brown for making this experience much more entertaining and bearable. We should do this again sometime. It was good, wholesome fun. To my monsters reading at home, I hope you enjoyed yourselves and that you get to experience such a time in your own lives. My one request is to make sure I am not with you. As always, until next time I'm starting with the Man in the Mirror.
Long Live The Prince
It all started in the city of Akron. Land of LeBron James. We were there for a Track and Field meet and were relaxing in the hotel.
After some quality time and teammate bonding with Chan "The Love Man" Brown, I felt it was necessary to run away, so I began to run. I was approaching the elevator and ran into everyone's favorite 400 meter hurdler Brooklynn Ventura. She was going on the same elevator, so we entered. I pressed "Door Close" so Mr. Brown couldn't get on, but as they closed and I turned around, he was right behind me, smiling as if I was his next victim.
The following is a detailed description of the next hour and a half of my life. This is all based on true events.
As in any elevator trip, everyone pressed the respective floor they were going to. The only difference in this trip was that the elevator apparently picked a floor too. I didn't see the button it pressed but the sudden drop of the elevator was a slight sign. We all looked at each other and immediately knew something was wrong. We felt no movement and heard no sounds. Were we stuck on the elevator? Not even in my wildest dreams has this happened, but yes, we were stuck on the elevator between the 3rd and 2nd floors.
The first one to fall victim to the emotion of panic, too many peoples surprise...Brooklynn. Approximately 1 minute after we discovered that we were stuck, Ms. Ventura had already had enough. It also didn't help that she had to use the bathroom, developing a disruptive sensation for poor Ms. Ventura and unleashing was is often referred to as "Angry Brooklynn".
In the midst of Brooklynn's newly acquired rage, Mr. Brown, calmly picked up the emergency phone and spoke to a representative at the front desk. He peacefully asked for assistance and politely thanked them for their help. This is when it sunk in that I was stuck in an elevator and did not know when I was getting out.
According to Brooklynn, she still had to use the bathroom.
We sat in the elevator waiting for a few minutes until we heard voices. Excited and energized, we all stood up, hoping our adventure was over. It was our loving teammates. They all came to the door asking about Brooklynn's safety and ensuring that she was okay. They asked how she was doing and made sure that nothing had happened to her. Nothing was asked about Chandler or I, putting a huge dent in our self-esteem and sense of security. Well there was a dent in mine to say the least.
For the next 15 minutes, each individual teammate asked the following. "Are you stuck in the elevator?" Yes we were, and it hasn't changed since the first person who asked, so quite frankly the repetition was increasingly aggravating. When our teammates left finally, there was a brief moment of panic spotted in "The Love Man" Chan. He said, and I quote "That's it! I'm busting out of this elevator!" I looked on as I watched him transform into a ferocious Andrew-like specimen. He approached the doors, let out an almighty roar, and began to slide open the doors. My mouth dropped as did my heart. The "joy" of "teammate bonding" had just increased to an unimaginable level.
What seemed like our way out was only a false alarm, as there was another door that could not be opened so we were back at square one. To make matters even worse, our teammates came back. This time with a cop who informed us that we had to wait another 30-45 minutes before someone could come to help us out. This was the worst news to hear when stuck in an elevator, because Brooklynn made sure we knew, at 5 minute increments, that she still had to use the bathroom.
We were trapped in the elevator, unsure of when we were to be released. As caged animals, we had minimal food sources (two half eaten Pasta Bowls from Domino's to be precise, which were later used as pillows), no interaction with anyone but each other, could only be spoken to through a tiny slit in the elevator door, and a slightly polluted air source (the polluter has not come forth yet). Delirium ensued.
Napping was amongst my first options, but after Chan and I discovered the measurements of the elevator, it was going to be too difficult to get comfortable. Also, once Chan was slashed by stray nails that decorated the walls of the elevator twice, I figured that my reckless sleeping habits could prove to be dangerous at this particular time. I tried meditation and prayer as a substitute, yet neither of which brought salvation to the elevator.
Singing was my next option, which was one of the lighter parts of the night. Chan and I sang a beautiful rendition of Shai/Boyz II Men's "If I Ever Fall in Love", as well as an accurate arrangement of "See You In My Nightmares" by Kanye West but the night was stolen by once again, none other than Brooklynn. She managed to squeeze her size 5 feet (give or take half a size) into Chan's size 10 wheat Timberland boots, stood up and performed Ke$ha's "Tik Tok". Using innovative dance moves not seen since the late and great King of Pop, Michael Jackson, she gave a performance that I will never in my life forget.
After some guest appearances by our Coaches, and a few more teammates, we remained trapped in the elevator. We had all came to (or at least Chan and I thought we came to) an understanding that our phones had lost service or had low battery at the beginning of this experience, so contact with the outer world was limited and rationed. Chan and I were given one call to my brother, while Brooklynn called two or three people and texted the night away. Can you guess whose phone lost service and had low battery?
Tired, exhausted, and frustrated, we had all come to the realization that we had involuntarily been given a new room for the night and there was nothing we could do about it. No one was coming to save us...ever. I started to reflex on my life and all the important things I have done. I thought about the first time I ever dunked a basketball. I thought about the first time I saw LeBron dunk. I thought about never having the chance to dunk on King Loic after being served numerous facials. Depression ensued, as I felt tears balled up in my eyes.
Then a voice. A voice came to me as if my prayers were being speed dialed back. A savior had come to rescue Brooklynn, Chandler and myself. The man told us to pull two red buttons that had been in the elevator the entire time and instantly the elevator began to move. Why we needed to wait an hour and a half for this was beyond me, but we were free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, free at last.
The doors opened and we rushed out of them like deranged fans, eager to see the 8 anonymous strangers wondering why the elevator was not answering their requests to go upstairs. As they looked confused and bewildered, we told them that we had been stuck on the elevator for an hour and a half. They looked at all three of us as we went back to our rooms, and proceeded to enter the elevator despite our warning. I guess they were feeling daring, but that was not my problem. I had already paid my dues.
I look back at this night and truly am shocked that it actually happened. In contrast it has made its way into the realm of the most eventful nights of my life and I surely don't think it would be possible for me to forget it. I must thank my teammates Brooklynn Ventura and Chandler Brown for making this experience much more entertaining and bearable. We should do this again sometime. It was good, wholesome fun. To my monsters reading at home, I hope you enjoyed yourselves and that you get to experience such a time in your own lives. My one request is to make sure I am not with you. As always, until next time I'm starting with the Man in the Mirror.
Long Live The Prince
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Return of the Prince
The Prince is back.
I would first like to formally apologize for the hiatus that I was on. It was not you at all as I love my little monsters dearly, it was me. I decided that going on a little bit of a vacation would channel some of those potent chemicals that instantly drug viewers upon reading those doctrines called Club SEBU posts. I am aware that the posts are highly addictive and many of you may have gone through some early stages of withdrawal and once again I am sorry. I hope you can accept this apology.
Time to dust of the cobwebs and see if I can still do this. Welcome back monsters.
So as usual, I will set the stage before I perform. About a week ago, I was boarding the bus. Now for those of you who are familiar with my Club, you will know that I have mastered the artistry that is behind boarding a bus. Here is where the discrepancy lies. Initially, I wanted people to read my posts and learn from them. I changed my mind because someone used my tactics against me and I can't have that. Anyways, join me as I return to the scenario.
I approached the bus stop, late as usual and saw that the snakes were already out and the bus was on its way. I was in an awful position. It was looking like I was going to either stand or walk in the relentless winter season. As I heard the bus and felt shivers down my spine, I knew that Richard Prince Sebuharara was not walking outside.
My mind started to race and I felt a bit of fear. I was so far from the bus and there was no way for me to reach the front without being slightly rude. I had to revert back to my prior knowledge. The date was January 15, 2010 when I published one of the best Club SEBU posts of all-time "The Art of Bus-Boarding" and I was going to have to dig in the archives for guidance. Although the chances of me getting on the bus were grim, it was time for me to showcase my talents in bus-boarding yet again. I proceeded towards the bus.
As I walked to the bus, it seemed more like walking through a battlefield. All sorts of food left astray littered the ground and decorated the soles of my Chuck Taylors, knees and feet battered then slashed my shins and toes, while bookbags and elbow found an innate attraction to my chest and midsection.
Through all this modern warfare, I was making great progress. I was only about two steps from destiny. Although sitting was out of the equation, the ultimate goal was to make sure that I did not have to endure the harsh reigns of Ms. Mother Nature and at the looks of things, I was going to be successful. One thing served as an obstacle in my operation.
As our paths converged at the exit of the jungle, I made brief eye contact with a littler female. Eye contact is one of the deadly sins of bus-boarding. I had a slight advantage on her, so I decided it was my obligation to make my way onto the bus first to secure a position for myself. The following scene may be graphic for some so viewer's discretion is advised.
Looking back at the situation I am terribly ashamed but what's done is done. With the step I had gained on her, I decided that I would extend my leg, drop down and execute a perfectly legal "Box Out" (see The Art of Bus-Boarding for definition). Yes, I am aware that I am a horrible person for my action, but trust me when I say this...the story gets better.
In my eyes, I had established my territory. Unfortunately for me, the girl had other motives. When I felt comfortable enough to walk on to the bus, tragedy struck. The same little girl who I thought was out of the picture decided to take a hockey player's mentality and checked me right out of contention. Yes I said it and yes I can't believe it either. With thousands of emotions running through my head I did not know what else I could do but move out of the way. This girl deserved her spot on the bus more than I did. She was clearly hungrier than I was and I applaud her for her efforts. As embarrassing as it was, I learned a valuable lesson. One that I will take with me to my grave. Do not judge a book by its cover, or you will get checked out of the way.
I hope your view of me has not been altered too much as I am much tougher than this story states. Don't try anything funny or you will regret it. Thank you for welcoming me back with open arms and I hope you enjoyed yourselves. It feels good to be home. Until next time take my picture Hollywood, I wanna be a star.
Long Live The Prince
I would first like to formally apologize for the hiatus that I was on. It was not you at all as I love my little monsters dearly, it was me. I decided that going on a little bit of a vacation would channel some of those potent chemicals that instantly drug viewers upon reading those doctrines called Club SEBU posts. I am aware that the posts are highly addictive and many of you may have gone through some early stages of withdrawal and once again I am sorry. I hope you can accept this apology.
Time to dust of the cobwebs and see if I can still do this. Welcome back monsters.
So as usual, I will set the stage before I perform. About a week ago, I was boarding the bus. Now for those of you who are familiar with my Club, you will know that I have mastered the artistry that is behind boarding a bus. Here is where the discrepancy lies. Initially, I wanted people to read my posts and learn from them. I changed my mind because someone used my tactics against me and I can't have that. Anyways, join me as I return to the scenario.
I approached the bus stop, late as usual and saw that the snakes were already out and the bus was on its way. I was in an awful position. It was looking like I was going to either stand or walk in the relentless winter season. As I heard the bus and felt shivers down my spine, I knew that Richard Prince Sebuharara was not walking outside.
My mind started to race and I felt a bit of fear. I was so far from the bus and there was no way for me to reach the front without being slightly rude. I had to revert back to my prior knowledge. The date was January 15, 2010 when I published one of the best Club SEBU posts of all-time "The Art of Bus-Boarding" and I was going to have to dig in the archives for guidance. Although the chances of me getting on the bus were grim, it was time for me to showcase my talents in bus-boarding yet again. I proceeded towards the bus.
As I walked to the bus, it seemed more like walking through a battlefield. All sorts of food left astray littered the ground and decorated the soles of my Chuck Taylors, knees and feet battered then slashed my shins and toes, while bookbags and elbow found an innate attraction to my chest and midsection.
Through all this modern warfare, I was making great progress. I was only about two steps from destiny. Although sitting was out of the equation, the ultimate goal was to make sure that I did not have to endure the harsh reigns of Ms. Mother Nature and at the looks of things, I was going to be successful. One thing served as an obstacle in my operation.
As our paths converged at the exit of the jungle, I made brief eye contact with a littler female. Eye contact is one of the deadly sins of bus-boarding. I had a slight advantage on her, so I decided it was my obligation to make my way onto the bus first to secure a position for myself. The following scene may be graphic for some so viewer's discretion is advised.
Looking back at the situation I am terribly ashamed but what's done is done. With the step I had gained on her, I decided that I would extend my leg, drop down and execute a perfectly legal "Box Out" (see The Art of Bus-Boarding for definition). Yes, I am aware that I am a horrible person for my action, but trust me when I say this...the story gets better.
In my eyes, I had established my territory. Unfortunately for me, the girl had other motives. When I felt comfortable enough to walk on to the bus, tragedy struck. The same little girl who I thought was out of the picture decided to take a hockey player's mentality and checked me right out of contention. Yes I said it and yes I can't believe it either. With thousands of emotions running through my head I did not know what else I could do but move out of the way. This girl deserved her spot on the bus more than I did. She was clearly hungrier than I was and I applaud her for her efforts. As embarrassing as it was, I learned a valuable lesson. One that I will take with me to my grave. Do not judge a book by its cover, or you will get checked out of the way.
I hope your view of me has not been altered too much as I am much tougher than this story states. Don't try anything funny or you will regret it. Thank you for welcoming me back with open arms and I hope you enjoyed yourselves. It feels good to be home. Until next time take my picture Hollywood, I wanna be a star.
Long Live The Prince
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
A Prince SEBU Original
24 is a ball hog,
Number 8 was too.
LeBron is greater than Kobe,
And also better than you.
His teams were better than LeBron's,
So he has 4 rings.
When it comes to basketball skill,
NO ONE compares to The King's.
Congratulations Kobe,
You had great seasons.
But this Kobe-LeBron debate
Has no valid reasons.
Shout out to all my witnesses,
Boogey-D, Big L, and Hags.
To all the Kobe fans,
Put your heads in bags.
Your arguments are embarrassing,
And have been ever since.
King James for President
And Long Live The Prince.
Number 8 was too.
LeBron is greater than Kobe,
And also better than you.
His teams were better than LeBron's,
So he has 4 rings.
When it comes to basketball skill,
NO ONE compares to The King's.
Congratulations Kobe,
You had great seasons.
But this Kobe-LeBron debate
Has no valid reasons.
Shout out to all my witnesses,
Boogey-D, Big L, and Hags.
To all the Kobe fans,
Put your heads in bags.
Your arguments are embarrassing,
And have been ever since.
King James for President
And Long Live The Prince.
Friday, January 15, 2010
The Art of Bus-Boarding
Upon finishing my first week of the Spring semester, I remembered the one thing that makes my blood boil more than anything. The UB Stampede.
For those who don't know, The UB Stampede is our chain of buses here at UB that always tend to be packed.
Now the name "Stampede" is very appropriate when describing these buses, or better yet people boarding the buses. It can get quite dangerous out there but being the wonderful man that I am, I have organized some tips and skills to make your experience as pleasant and safe as possible.
These 6 tips can be used in any setting, so feel free to use them. If not, it is no longer my problem and you will be putting yourself in danger. The choice is yours.
Now, let us begin.
1. Be on time
We are starting off with a very important one. When I say this I am very serious. If you learn the schedule of the bus you can save yourself a lot of embarrassing/awkward moments. For instance, walking down to the bus, assuming you will catch it, then watching it pull away while everyone on the bus watches you sprint after it, then walking back to the bus stop where everyone quietly laughs at you. Being on time will not only prevent these kind of situations, but will also give you a head start when the bus door opens. Which leads me to my next tip.
2. Nice guys finish last
This is a very commonly used phrase, usually when referring to relationships. I have put a Club SEBU spin on it that should help you immensely. What I mean by this is, nice guy tendencies must be thrown away for the brief time you are boarding the bus. If you chose to let every cute girl slip in front of you, I can assure you that you will be standing for the entire bus ride (see later tip for "Tips to Standing"). I have listed some ways to channel the rudeness needed to be successful.
3. Be resourceful/ intelligent
You must use your smarts and your environment to your advantage. It will serve you well in the long run. If you are at one of the doors and it is packed, simply say "They opened the other door!". Subconsciously, at least a dozen of the hyenas will rush to be the first to the other door, giving you an opportunity to advance toward the bus. That could be dangerous but it is worth a shot. Disguise your voice and make sure no one knows you said it. If not, you will be a wanted man. Another resource is a little creepier but efficient nonetheless. When the football linemen come through, say thank you to God and do as they do. Since everyone will move and let them on the bus first, position yourself right behind the last one. Get close enough so that the untrained eye will assume you are a wide receiver or defensive back, but not too close as you could run into them and make them angry. The last thing you EVER want are angry linemen.
At this point you have probably made it on to the bus and think the war has ended. False. The battle is only heightened at this point. It is time to find a seat.
Just for some background...
For those who don't know, The UB Stampede is our chain of buses here at UB that always tend to be packed.
Now the name "Stampede" is very appropriate when describing these buses, or better yet people boarding the buses. It can get quite dangerous out there but being the wonderful man that I am, I have organized some tips and skills to make your experience as pleasant and safe as possible.
These 6 tips can be used in any setting, so feel free to use them. If not, it is no longer my problem and you will be putting yourself in danger. The choice is yours.
Now, let us begin.
1. Be on time
We are starting off with a very important one. When I say this I am very serious. If you learn the schedule of the bus you can save yourself a lot of embarrassing/awkward moments. For instance, walking down to the bus, assuming you will catch it, then watching it pull away while everyone on the bus watches you sprint after it, then walking back to the bus stop where everyone quietly laughs at you. Being on time will not only prevent these kind of situations, but will also give you a head start when the bus door opens. Which leads me to my next tip.
2. Nice guys finish last
This is a very commonly used phrase, usually when referring to relationships. I have put a Club SEBU spin on it that should help you immensely. What I mean by this is, nice guy tendencies must be thrown away for the brief time you are boarding the bus. If you chose to let every cute girl slip in front of you, I can assure you that you will be standing for the entire bus ride (see later tip for "Tips to Standing"). I have listed some ways to channel the rudeness needed to be successful.
- Be assertive/committed - If you see a gap that you can fit in, take it. Don't hesitate, and don't stop until you have made it on the bus.
- Do not make eye contact with anyone - Just like driving, if you have made a mistake, act as if nothing happened. If you budge, and look at the person you just cut off, that leaves room for argument which could cost you your place. You are in the wrong so do not draw attention to yourself. Make moves and keep it moving.
- Box out - This is a little more advanced but highly effective. If you have obtained your position within the pack of lions, hold your ground. If someone tries to "Be assertive/committed", it is perfectly legal to widen your stance, slightly throw your butt into their gut (very subtly to avoid problems) and prevent them from slipping in front of you. Make sure that they are pinned behind you and their only way to the bus is through you. Hopefully they are not a savage and will not run through you.
- Never converse and Board at the same time - This is similar to drinking and driving. You cannot focus. If you talk, people will take advantage and cut in front of you.
- Use your resources - Poles, garbage cans, other kids, etc, can all be used as obstacles for your opponents. Position yourself so that you have a clear way to the door, while the others have to avoid your boobie-trap.
3. Be resourceful/ intelligent
You must use your smarts and your environment to your advantage. It will serve you well in the long run. If you are at one of the doors and it is packed, simply say "They opened the other door!". Subconsciously, at least a dozen of the hyenas will rush to be the first to the other door, giving you an opportunity to advance toward the bus. That could be dangerous but it is worth a shot. Disguise your voice and make sure no one knows you said it. If not, you will be a wanted man. Another resource is a little creepier but efficient nonetheless. When the football linemen come through, say thank you to God and do as they do. Since everyone will move and let them on the bus first, position yourself right behind the last one. Get close enough so that the untrained eye will assume you are a wide receiver or defensive back, but not too close as you could run into them and make them angry. The last thing you EVER want are angry linemen.
At this point you have probably made it on to the bus and think the war has ended. False. The battle is only heightened at this point. It is time to find a seat.
Just for some background...
The Anatomy of the UB Stampede
2 Doors
40 Seated
20 Standees
2 Doors
40 Seated
20 Standees
As you can see, there are limited spots on the bus so you must be wise.
4. Have no preferences
When arriving on the bus, swallow your pride and take any seat available. Do not look for friends or for a particular seat. Once you do that, all the seats you wanted will be taken, and when you turn around to take one you have passed up, it will be taken as well. At this point, you will be standing.
5. No questions, just sit
Just like while boarding the bus, the minute you ask questions you have declared yourself vulnerable. The vultures on the bus can sense your fear and will do whatever it takes to make you stand. If you want to ask any questions, make sure they are after you have already sat down and got comfortable. Do anything to avoid standing.
4. Have no preferences
When arriving on the bus, swallow your pride and take any seat available. Do not look for friends or for a particular seat. Once you do that, all the seats you wanted will be taken, and when you turn around to take one you have passed up, it will be taken as well. At this point, you will be standing.
5. No questions, just sit
Just like while boarding the bus, the minute you ask questions you have declared yourself vulnerable. The vultures on the bus can sense your fear and will do whatever it takes to make you stand. If you want to ask any questions, make sure they are after you have already sat down and got comfortable. Do anything to avoid standing.
In the case that you have to stand, first and foremost, I am sorry because it is not fun. Secondly, stay as composed as possible. It is roughly 5 minutes, and the more relaxed you are, the better. Following are tips for standing as promised earlier in the Blog.
6. Standing is not cool
Do not try and make standing look fashionable or easy because it is not. It is a workout. Those who want to add a little "swag" to standing will find themselves grabbing for dear life as the bus takes off. I've seen it happen and yes it is embarrassing. When you have found out that you are standing, locate the handles above your head and firmly grab onto them. They are put there for a reason. Get into a good athletic stance and prepare yourself. If you do not want to use the handles, I can promise you one thing. You will drop your belongs, your knees will buckle as you shoulders jerk back, and you will end up on someones lap, uninvited. Don't risk the embarrassment. It is not fun.
I hope you take this seriously and put some of the tips to good use. It is worth it. I know it is kind of late, but this is my Christmas/ Hanukkah/ Kwanzaa/ any holiday gift to all of you. If these tips do not work, I will be giving out personal lessons in The Art of Bus-Boarding by appointment only. As always my little monsters, you have been great. It was a pleasure to advise you. Good day to you all and until next time embrace the Martian.
Long Live The Prince
6. Standing is not cool
Do not try and make standing look fashionable or easy because it is not. It is a workout. Those who want to add a little "swag" to standing will find themselves grabbing for dear life as the bus takes off. I've seen it happen and yes it is embarrassing. When you have found out that you are standing, locate the handles above your head and firmly grab onto them. They are put there for a reason. Get into a good athletic stance and prepare yourself. If you do not want to use the handles, I can promise you one thing. You will drop your belongs, your knees will buckle as you shoulders jerk back, and you will end up on someones lap, uninvited. Don't risk the embarrassment. It is not fun.
I hope you take this seriously and put some of the tips to good use. It is worth it. I know it is kind of late, but this is my Christmas/ Hanukkah/ Kwanzaa/ any holiday gift to all of you. If these tips do not work, I will be giving out personal lessons in The Art of Bus-Boarding by appointment only. As always my little monsters, you have been great. It was a pleasure to advise you. Good day to you all and until next time embrace the Martian.
Long Live The Prince
Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week
This will probably be the shortest, yet by far THE most important shout out ever given.
This weeks Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week goes to...
LeBron Raymone James, also known as King James.
Self Explanatory.
Long Live The King
Kobe will never receive this honor.
Long Live The Fans
This weeks Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week goes to...
LeBron Raymone James, also known as King James.
Self Explanatory.
Long Live The King
Kobe will never receive this honor.
Long Live The Fans
Friday, January 8, 2010
Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week
This week we have our first criminal as a recipient. The honoree of the week is a two time Club SEBU Shout Out offender.
Unlike any other crime in the world, one is rewarded for a crime like this. I encourage this kind of law-breaking. It makes a much more beautiful living environment for everyone.
I am honored as well as privileged to announce this week’s Club SEBU Shout Out to none other than the King himself. The self-proclaimed “L-Murda”: Loic Sebuharara.
To receive this award twice is almost as impossible as flying, or beating me in a steel cage match (this will never happen). King LaJuic has accomplished a phenomenal feat.
The King has given me numerous suggestions to enhance the Club SEBU experience such as adding more pictures to the Club’s Facebook group, so fans can see The Artist Currently Known as Prince. He has also been giving full analysis and feedback on every blog I have written since the early stages of my blogging career. I commend him on his efforts to stay on top of the most important electronic scripture to date, which is Club SEBU.
Congratulations yet again Dr. Sebuharara. With this achievement, you have reached doctoral status in our institution. Your commitment has been the best non-textual dissertation I have ever witnessed.
Bow down to the, bow down to the King. (Triple H Clause)
Until next time, keep working on your free throws.
Long Live The Fans
Zwollow Entertainment
Unlike any other crime in the world, one is rewarded for a crime like this. I encourage this kind of law-breaking. It makes a much more beautiful living environment for everyone.
I am honored as well as privileged to announce this week’s Club SEBU Shout Out to none other than the King himself. The self-proclaimed “L-Murda”: Loic Sebuharara.
To receive this award twice is almost as impossible as flying, or beating me in a steel cage match (this will never happen). King LaJuic has accomplished a phenomenal feat.
The King has given me numerous suggestions to enhance the Club SEBU experience such as adding more pictures to the Club’s Facebook group, so fans can see The Artist Currently Known as Prince. He has also been giving full analysis and feedback on every blog I have written since the early stages of my blogging career. I commend him on his efforts to stay on top of the most important electronic scripture to date, which is Club SEBU.
Congratulations yet again Dr. Sebuharara. With this achievement, you have reached doctoral status in our institution. Your commitment has been the best non-textual dissertation I have ever witnessed.
Bow down to the, bow down to the King. (Triple H Clause)
Until next time, keep working on your free throws.
Long Live The Fans
Zwollow Entertainment
Thursday, January 7, 2010
The Locker Room
The Locker Room is one of the most important things in an athlete's life. A lot of time is spent in them so as an athlete I have become quite attached. I have been in many locker rooms but I have taken an extreme liking to my Track and Field one.
From 7th to 12th grade, I used the same locker in our high school track and field locker room. As a miniature Loic (he was in 12th grade while I was a 7th grader), I fought off his senior friends for this locker. Day in and day out, I made it very evident that my locker was MINE and absolutely no one was taking it from me. It was wonderful. It was my sanctuary and I was ready to go to war for it. I had all my spikes, a couple track bags, and anything else I needed for meets and practices. It was my home away from home. When I entered college, I was very excited to see my locker room so I could bond and become one with it.
Just my luck. There is no such thing as a locker room here at school unless your sport is Basketball, or Football.
This is my fair warning. Stay out of the "Track and Field" locker room!
First and foremost, it is not an exclusive locker room like previous teams mentioned. Our locker room is a public one. In layman's term everyone in the world is allowed in.
Viewer's Discretion advised.
I am not a greedy person at heart, but I find it a little unfair that while the other sports share their locker room with their teammates, we are forced to share ours with an influx of elder men who just happen to enjoy their bodies a little too much. When I say this, it means they feel that clothes is only necessary outside of the locker room. Furthermore, as they walk into the locker room, they leave their clothes at the door. Once they are in the "Track and Field" locker room, they always feel the need to talk to you about anything and everything...still without clothes. If there is one thing more uncomfortable than changing in front of random men, it is changing in front of them while they talk to you...still clothes-less.
I am sorry if I have put any disturbing images into your mind, but this is the grave reality that I have to deal with. Life is rough. Hopefully an actually locker room is in our near future. If not, I will just have to continue wearing spandex, everyday underneath my outfits.
I also apologize for the grotesque depiction of the Track and Field locker room, but as promised in the title of these Blogs, Club SEBU is the Chronicles of my life in Buffalo. Raw and uncut. Until next time my little monsters, show me your teeth.
Long Live The Prince
From 7th to 12th grade, I used the same locker in our high school track and field locker room. As a miniature Loic (he was in 12th grade while I was a 7th grader), I fought off his senior friends for this locker. Day in and day out, I made it very evident that my locker was MINE and absolutely no one was taking it from me. It was wonderful. It was my sanctuary and I was ready to go to war for it. I had all my spikes, a couple track bags, and anything else I needed for meets and practices. It was my home away from home. When I entered college, I was very excited to see my locker room so I could bond and become one with it.
Just my luck. There is no such thing as a locker room here at school unless your sport is Basketball, or Football.
This is my fair warning. Stay out of the "Track and Field" locker room!
First and foremost, it is not an exclusive locker room like previous teams mentioned. Our locker room is a public one. In layman's term everyone in the world is allowed in.
Viewer's Discretion advised.
I am not a greedy person at heart, but I find it a little unfair that while the other sports share their locker room with their teammates, we are forced to share ours with an influx of elder men who just happen to enjoy their bodies a little too much. When I say this, it means they feel that clothes is only necessary outside of the locker room. Furthermore, as they walk into the locker room, they leave their clothes at the door. Once they are in the "Track and Field" locker room, they always feel the need to talk to you about anything and everything...still without clothes. If there is one thing more uncomfortable than changing in front of random men, it is changing in front of them while they talk to you...still clothes-less.
I am sorry if I have put any disturbing images into your mind, but this is the grave reality that I have to deal with. Life is rough. Hopefully an actually locker room is in our near future. If not, I will just have to continue wearing spandex, everyday underneath my outfits.
I also apologize for the grotesque depiction of the Track and Field locker room, but as promised in the title of these Blogs, Club SEBU is the Chronicles of my life in Buffalo. Raw and uncut. Until next time my little monsters, show me your teeth.
Long Live The Prince
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Facebook Anonymous 2.0: What's your status?
Where do I start? Facebook has taken the world by storm. It is the epitome of pop culture today. There is one thing that could possibly give Facebook a run for its money...Facebook statuses. I understand that the statuses are a part of Facebook, but they have taken on a life of their own. Over time, I've realized that everyone has a status, all of which lack originality and uniqueness. While surfing "the Book" (credits to King Loic for that nickname), I began to gather data to formulate my dissertation...What's Your Status : The case of Facebook.
One Blog would not serve justice for my flawless dissertation. I will in fact bullet some key facts I picked up on.
The first thing I observed was probably the most common status genre I saw.
I hope you enjoyed my introspective yet brief piece on Facebook statuses. I have just touched the tip of the iceberg on this topic and have left the floor open to discussion. Furthermore I would like to assure you that in my statuses, I strive to make articulate and thought-provoking statements derived from a long line of experience. In all actuality my statuses are as meaningless as anyone else. Nevertheless, keep likeing and commenting on them because it does bring slight happiness and gratification on the plethora of brilliant statuses crafted by the Prince.
As always my beloved fans and adored monsters, thank you for your time. I hope no one has taken offense to this post as that was not my initial intent. If so, there is nothing I can do. I'm only human. (Will You Be There, Free Willy Soundtrack). Until next time, I am the man of the hour...for 24 hours.
Long Live The Prince
One Blog would not serve justice for my flawless dissertation. I will in fact bullet some key facts I picked up on.
The first thing I observed was probably the most common status genre I saw.
- Song Lyrics
- Everyone wants to be single
- Text/Hang out with me
I hope you enjoyed my introspective yet brief piece on Facebook statuses. I have just touched the tip of the iceberg on this topic and have left the floor open to discussion. Furthermore I would like to assure you that in my statuses, I strive to make articulate and thought-provoking statements derived from a long line of experience. In all actuality my statuses are as meaningless as anyone else. Nevertheless, keep likeing and commenting on them because it does bring slight happiness and gratification on the plethora of brilliant statuses crafted by the Prince.
As always my beloved fans and adored monsters, thank you for your time. I hope no one has taken offense to this post as that was not my initial intent. If so, there is nothing I can do. I'm only human. (Will You Be There, Free Willy Soundtrack). Until next time, I am the man of the hour...for 24 hours.
Long Live The Prince
Friday, January 1, 2010
Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week
This week I have ventured to the NBA to find the weeks shout out.
As I made my hourly visit to NBA.com, I stumbled upon a very uplifting and inspiring story. The first Club SEBU Shout Out of 2010 is being awarded to Nate Robinson of the New York Knickerbockers.
After an ill advised basket on the opposing basketball team's hoop back on December 1, Nate had been benched for 14 games for what seemed to be child-like behavior. An unfortunate situation turned into a motivating scenario.
On January 1, 2010, in his first game back, "Krypo"-Nate showed the world that he still had the excitement. Mr. Robinson had 41 points on 18-24 shooting which is roughly 75% from the field. That's very good for you non-basketball fans. He also had 8 assists and 6 rebounds. Truly a monster games.
Congratulation Nate Robinson. You brought brief light in an otherwise horrible New York Knick season, as usual.
Happy New Year
Long Live The Fans
Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week Honorable Mention
As I made my hourly visit to NBA.com, I stumbled upon a very uplifting and inspiring story. The first Club SEBU Shout Out of 2010 is being awarded to Nate Robinson of the New York Knickerbockers.
After an ill advised basket on the opposing basketball team's hoop back on December 1, Nate had been benched for 14 games for what seemed to be child-like behavior. An unfortunate situation turned into a motivating scenario.
On January 1, 2010, in his first game back, "Krypo"-Nate showed the world that he still had the excitement. Mr. Robinson had 41 points on 18-24 shooting which is roughly 75% from the field. That's very good for you non-basketball fans. He also had 8 assists and 6 rebounds. Truly a monster games.
Congratulation Nate Robinson. You brought brief light in an otherwise horrible New York Knick season, as usual.
Happy New Year
Long Live The Fans
Club SEBU Shout Out of the Week Honorable Mention
- LeBron James - 48 points, 10 rebounds, 6 assists, 2 blocks, 2 steals on his 25th birthday.
- Jimmer Fredette - 49 points, 9 assists, 7 rebounds
- New Jersey Nets - recorded their 3rd win of the season. Nets Nation stand up
- Matthew Gorny - 3rd degree Manslaughter against my team in Fantasy Basketball. Final score 583-381
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