<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332</id><updated>2011-12-05T08:55:29.446-06:00</updated><category term='Santa'/><category term='Finals'/><category term='Campus life'/><category term='Quotes'/><category term='Dating'/><category term='College'/><category term='Laundry'/><category term='Lame Jokes'/><category term='Illinois'/><title type='text'>Chew Softly</title><subtitle type='html'>Hi my name is Tyler and welcome to my blog. I like playing tennis, playing the guitar, and saving the world...all on my Nintendo Wii</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>55</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-1672364917307479541</id><published>2011-08-16T04:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T04:34:57.089-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tours</title><content type='html'>Okay, so let's pick up right where we left off; at the airport.  Straight from the there, we jammed packed into our tour bus without delay, and immediately took off down the highway.  We hadn't driven for five minutes before eyes started to droop and heads started to sway, but for as tired and dirty as we were from traveling, it wasn't hard to notice the sudden level of stirring as soon as we pulled up next to the majestic Rome Colosseum.&lt;br /&gt;To actually be inside the 2,000 year-old monumental building was an incredible experience none of us will soon forget.  My mind has yet to comprehend that this structure was built close to 1,700 years before the United States officially became a country. Once inside, images of bloody gladiatorial contests and intense chariot races flickered through my mind and stories of public executions, gruesome beheadings, and exotic animal fights by our tour guide only fueled my crazy imagination more.  I have always been intrigued by the Roman empire, so much that I solely passed my AP European History class based on my such high grades on that unit.&lt;br /&gt;On the following day, we took a walking tour of the Vatican City where we went through St. Peter's Basilica, the Apostolic Palace, and the Sistine Chapel along with the various museums throughout each.  The coolest part to me was seeing the masterpiece work of art Michelangelo painted onto the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.    Our tour guide was explicit in telling us no pictures were to be taken inside the chapel, but temptation soon got the best of us and before you knew it everyone was covertly snapping away.  Coach Jay Price was the only one who abided by these rules, because I think I even saw coach Weber sneak a picture or two.&lt;br /&gt;With three days and three nights in Rome behind us, we all packed into the same bus from the airport on Sunday morning and managed a 3 hour bus ride to Florence (which I have been told I've been spelling wrong in all of my tweets).  In the city of Florence, we were able to take in another masterpiece by Michelangelo, the famous Statue of David.  Only one word came to mind when I surveyed this work of art, and that word was "BIG".  Our tour guide mentioned the sculpture had three flaws that did not fit into the proportional scale of a real human body which were the right hand, the head, and the left shoulder. They all were either slightly bigger or smaller than what a real human's would look like.  It was noticed, however, that she made no mention of another part of the male anatomy that looked a bit unproportional as well.&lt;br /&gt;Our latest tour that we took was a 1 hour bus ride to the city of Pisa, where as you might have heard, lies a famous slightly slanted bell tower.  The whole team ascended all 294 stairs to the top, leading to spectacular views of the surrounding town and countryside.  While we were there, I vowed not to let any member of our party take the cliché photograph of posing and pretending to "hold up" the leaning tower and prevent it from falling.  As soon as I told this to Meyers Leonard and Crandall Head, they ignored my advice and immediately struck up the pose.&lt;br /&gt;As of right now, we are getting ready to leave for the city of Venice, where as Mitch Hedberg said, they don't have street smarts, they have canal smarts.  Remember to follow me on twitter at @tylergriffey and check out www.fightingillini.com for more updates!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jep3lkxG67A/Tko0OTrfJBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/mFWCeXmahE8/s1600/IMG_0373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" width="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jep3lkxG67A/Tko0OTrfJBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/mFWCeXmahE8/s320/IMG_0373.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Meyers and I on top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  Notice the camera was tilted when this picture was taken.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QBvBEdM8oVo/Tko0GLK-o-I/AAAAAAAAAIw/b08OtfJIDG0/s1600/CIMG0448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QBvBEdM8oVo/Tko0GLK-o-I/AAAAAAAAAIw/b08OtfJIDG0/s320/CIMG0448.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Meyers and I on top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa again&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xbXi7WHZLEw/Tko0OIi_y2I/AAAAAAAAAI4/xp317h8zOwE/s1600/IMG_0363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" width="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xbXi7WHZLEw/Tko0OIi_y2I/AAAAAAAAAI4/xp317h8zOwE/s320/IMG_0363.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Meyers with the token pose&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-1672364917307479541?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/1672364917307479541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/08/tours.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1672364917307479541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1672364917307479541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/08/tours.html' title='The Tours'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jep3lkxG67A/Tko0OTrfJBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/mFWCeXmahE8/s72-c/IMG_0373.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-294109997076489015</id><published>2011-08-14T07:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T12:41:19.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"How To Make It In America"</title><content type='html'>With my experience of overseas traveling, (This is my 6th trip to Europe) I pretty much know what to expect, what to pack, etc.  But no matter how long my trip is or where it is I'm going, packing for an overseas trip is a little more difficult when you're 6'8" and wear a size 16 shoe.  There's not much room left in my duffel bag after I pack two pairs of basketball shoes, two pairs of tennis shoes, and one pair of dress shoes, but somehow I made it all fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived in Rome at 2:00pm (Rome time, 7am CST) after two plane rides (totaling about 9 hours) and a 4 hour layover in Dusseldorf, Germany.  That's a long day spent traveling, especially if it's next to impossible to sleep in anywhere but a bed like it is for me.  I don't even sleep that well in general and almost consider myself a borderline insomniac (My diagnosis, not a professional's), so I had to pack a lot of entertainment options as well to keep from getting bored.  Instead of watching movies that would be relative to our trip like "Gladiators", "Angels and Demons", and everybody's favorite Rom Com "When In Rome", I chose to watch things that have absolutely nothing to do with our trip, such as "African Cats", "Fast Five", and my most ironic choice, HBOs "How To Make It In America".  In addition to these movies, I was able to cram my laptop bag with these other entertainment options:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uiR6la-yKak/Tke9ydgYWpI/AAAAAAAAAIY/fVDTjQmO-FE/s1600/DSC00470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uiR6la-yKak/Tke9ydgYWpI/AAAAAAAAAIY/fVDTjQmO-FE/s320/DSC00470.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;My Dell laptop, my passport, Iphone/iPod, "Outliers" by Malcom Gladwell, 1TB portable hard drive, Amazon Kindle, and an European electrical converter.  Whenever the picture of that guy comes up on my Kindle, it scares the beejeezes out of me.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see in my picture above, what made these movies so enjoyable were my travel essential, Bose noise cancelling headphones.  Given to me at Christmas last year, I never travel without them.  If I were to ever forget them though, the overwhelming amount of Beats by Dre my team owns has me covered.  I don't even need a pair of headphones at all, I can just enjoy whatever music DJ is listening too, if I'm within a 10 foot radius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we arrived in Rome safely, and are here until Sunday morning at which we then travel to Florence.  We have a lot of stuff planned while were here including tours of the Coliseum and Vatican city, as well as a game or two.  I will keep you updated as much as I can throughout our travels, but for more updates, follow me on twitter at @tylergriffey or go to www.fightingillini.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f9DjL8HnBc4/Tke_n09BmII/AAAAAAAAAIo/9wFwIkFWVro/s1600/DSC00516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f9DjL8HnBc4/Tke_n09BmII/AAAAAAAAAIo/9wFwIkFWVro/s320/DSC00516.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ibby and I in St. Peters Basicalla&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vDHZDMoGPWE/Tke_nmr672I/AAAAAAAAAIg/BBY78kCvDmA/s1600/DSC00479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vDHZDMoGPWE/Tke_nmr672I/AAAAAAAAAIg/BBY78kCvDmA/s320/DSC00479.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Nnanna and I in the Rome Colosseum&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-294109997076489015?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/294109997076489015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/08/how-to-make-it-in-america.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/294109997076489015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/294109997076489015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/08/how-to-make-it-in-america.html' title='&quot;How To Make It In America&quot;'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uiR6la-yKak/Tke9ydgYWpI/AAAAAAAAAIY/fVDTjQmO-FE/s72-c/DSC00470.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-4090375941009220529</id><published>2011-06-28T11:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T13:54:53.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Google Fail</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;UPDATED - I have since fixed the problem.  Ended up restoring my computer to factory settings. It was a pain in the ass but at least it's working now.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All it takes to be somewhat proficient at computer troubleshooting is a basic knowledge of how to use Google.  That's it.  99% of computer issues can be solved with the help of Google.  (That's my own rough estimation.)  I have no patience for people who don't know how to use the search function on their web browser.   If you're experiencing a problem, chances are you're not the first person who has come across this particular problem and if at least one of those people wrote about it, Google will find it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Google has yet to fail me, except now.  I've poured over countless discussion threads, forums, articles, and even an instructional manual to no avail.  I even asked my dedicated Twitter following to help me with my predicament, and they gave some great, helpful responses (mixed in with some stupid, worthless ones) to which I tried to only find nothing to be effective again.  So this is my last resort, last ditch effort in hopes to solving this.  I'm sorry it took something like this to take me out of a mini-retirement from blogging, but I have to try, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem:  No sound from any video on any internet site (YouTube, GoogleVid, Cnet, etc.)  I have installed latest versions of Adobe Flash Player and Adobe Active X, so video quality is fine (I can watch the video) but there is absolutely no sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My System - 64-bit Windows 7 Dell desktop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anti-Virus Software - Microsoft Security Essentials&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speakers - They do work!  I can hear MP3's from iTunes or VLC Media Player, Windows start up sounds, and mouse clicks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Web Browser - I'm currently on latest version of Firefox and this is my default browser, but have Google Chrome and IE9.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I have tried&lt;br /&gt;-Checking volume on speakers, on the embedded video, and within computer setting. (I'm all Turnt Up!)&lt;br /&gt;-Restarted my computer&lt;br /&gt;-Tried in all three web browsers&lt;br /&gt;-Deleted cookies, temp internet folder, history&lt;br /&gt;-Uninstalled and reinstalled all web browsers and tried them separately. (Tried Firefox without Google Chrome installed on my machine, tried Google Chrome without Firefox on my machine.)&lt;br /&gt;-Uninstalled and reinstalled Adobe Flash player.&lt;br /&gt;-Installed prototype Adobe Flash player for 64-bit systems. (Adobe website site said both should work).&lt;br /&gt;-Uninstalled Microsoft Security Essentials and tried.&lt;br /&gt;-Went in and updated registry files (With help from discussion thread on Google)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Updated - Downloaded latest sound drivers from Dell website.  Still didn't work.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of these worked.  Google has failed me.  Can anyone help??? Somebody???  Please??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-4090375941009220529?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/4090375941009220529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/06/google-fail.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4090375941009220529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4090375941009220529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/06/google-fail.html' title='Google Fail'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-160185658022060772</id><published>2011-03-15T13:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T10:41:41.291-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Because I'm Tall</title><content type='html'>By any way you measure it, I’m above your average standard in height.  In my own calculations I check in at 6’8” or 2.032 meters for you European folk.  That’s one inch shorter than what I’m listed in the media guide and a whopping 11 inches taller than the 5’9” average of Caucasian-American men. (&lt;a href="http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/fastats/bodymeas.htm"&gt;Source&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could say a lot of people look up to me, I was 5’9” before I began middle school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up, I always towered over my classmates making it nearly impossible not to “stick out” among my peers.  I was a head taller than everyone else, most times even my teacher.  In elementary school, I always had to bring up the rear when walking in single file lines because if someone walked behind me, they might inadvertently catch an elbow if they weren’t careful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stuck out in athletics too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you’re taller than everyone, it’s presumed that you’re older as well.  It didn’t matter whether it was soccer, baseball, or basketball, my father always had a copy of my birth certificate on hand if anyone wanted to dispute my real age.  We might even have made copies to keep one in each car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I obviously chose to pursue one sport more than any other, but it might not be for the reasons you think.  I have heard people say that it’d be a waste of height if tall men didn’t at least give basketball a try and I don’t agree with that.  Being pressured to participate in any activity because of a physical attribute is wrong.  Honestly, I chose to stick with basketball because it took the least amount of time to get ready for.  Soccer had long socks and sweaty shin guards.  Baseball had a hat and pants in the summertime.  Neither of these worked for me.  All you need for basketball is some high-top sneakers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of my height, my whole life I’ve been peppered with questions from strangers that want to know if I play basketball.  Who do I play for, they want to know.  I hope I don’t disappoint them when my answers tend to be a sport that doesn’t require height, like hockey or table tennis.  I think I sell it on my demonstration of my ferocious slap shot or wicked backhand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst is when these same strangers then proceed to tell me the entire life story of someone else they know that is also tall.  As if I would care that your 14 year-old nephew is 6’2”, wears a size 12 shoe and plays basketball for the freshmen B team at his high school I've never heard of.  What am I to do with this information, other than smile politely and nod right back at you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I wish I was shorter?  No.  Do I wish I was taller?  Nope.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I was just surprised so many of you average dudes got the “short” end of the stick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-160185658022060772?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/160185658022060772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/03/just-because-im-tall.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/160185658022060772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/160185658022060772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/03/just-because-im-tall.html' title='Just Because I&apos;m Tall'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-2835770466350230552</id><published>2011-02-12T23:20:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T23:34:44.056-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Soda vs. Pop (Just Pick One)</title><content type='html'>Let’s pretend its summer, and you’re on a peaceful stroll in the park.  You can pick the park, any park will do.  It’s blistering hot outside, and while walking past a street vendor, you notice your mouth is a tad bit parched.  Captain obvious says thirst is the diagnosis, and a carbonated beverage does sound delicious right about now.  You go to order your soft drink, but when you order it, what do you say?  Soda or pop???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, according to this neat color-coded piece of cartography, it all depends on where you’re from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-unQ7zf4Il74/TVdpNmIQ3NI/AAAAAAAAAIM/bXe2ZZoRXVM/s1600/popvssodamap.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="193" width="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-unQ7zf4Il74/TVdpNmIQ3NI/AAAAAAAAAIM/bXe2ZZoRXVM/s320/popvssodamap.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://strangemaps.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/popvssodamap.gif"&gt;(Click to make bigger)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fellow residents of “The Most Dangerous City in the Nation” say soda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicagoians call it pop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you call it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me?  Well I don’t really care; they’re all mixers to me…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-2835770466350230552?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/2835770466350230552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/02/soda-vs-pop-just-pick-one.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2835770466350230552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2835770466350230552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/02/soda-vs-pop-just-pick-one.html' title='Soda vs. Pop (Just Pick One)'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-unQ7zf4Il74/TVdpNmIQ3NI/AAAAAAAAAIM/bXe2ZZoRXVM/s72-c/popvssodamap.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-2138051602518198080</id><published>2011-01-31T11:31:00.031-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T20:12:03.436-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 14</title><content type='html'>Sorry it's been awhile, but I've been busy so get off my case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s nothing I haven’t thought of during the National Anthem.  And that includes this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear fellow citizens of America, &lt;br /&gt;Please stop treating the National Anthem like an American Idol audition. We love our country just as much as you do, but don't want to sacrifice our hearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the school year, I really believe the number of vehicles on this campus vastly outnumbers the number of parking spaces.  Looking at a map and locating your classrooms is one thing, but having to strategically plan the future position of your parked car to accommodate both the maximum chance of parking spaces available and the minimum walking distance is another thing.  And why is parking so expensive?  I have a small fortune of silver American coins in my car whose specific purpose is only for the parking meters.  I guess what they say is right, time is money and money is time, I just didn’t know it was so damn expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, is it Pet Smart or Pets Mart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the point of having a Katt Williams Comedy Central Special when you have to BEEP out every other word? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does a stoner prefer Baked Lays?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think Jesus automatically knew he was Jesus from the start, or did his mom or somebody tell him and he grew into it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know when little kids say, "I love you this much!" and spread their arms out as wide as they can?  Well, amputees love no one.  And going along with this, not too many people are capable of loving as much as me.  You'd have to have a wingspan greater than 7,1".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meyers Leonard told me he could throw a baseball 90 MPH and I don’t believe him.  So naturally, we made a bet to settle this dispute, but because the NCAA frowns upon gambling, we decided to make the bet in Monopoly money.  Anyone got a radar gun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m still shocked that I have a blog that is read by people other than those I pay to read it, but hey I appreciate it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-2138051602518198080?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/2138051602518198080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/01/dirty-laundry.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2138051602518198080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2138051602518198080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2011/01/dirty-laundry.html' title='Dirty Laundry 14'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-1743331814891197712</id><published>2010-11-03T19:11:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T20:37:12.106-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Boo!</title><content type='html'>In my opinion, the best Halloween costume of the year would have been the Old Spice commercial guy, but unfortunately I didn’t come across any on my Halloween weekend adventures.  I definitely would have took it upon myself to dress up like that, but was afraid a white guy walking around in a towel carrying deodorant would not be looked as creative, but as idiocy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bout of indecision led me to not choose any costume…or so I thought.  Apparently a Nike hooded sweatshirt and jeans combined with Caucasian skin and a 6’8 body is the costume of Meyers Leonard.  If I had a dollar for every time someone called me “Meyers”, I’d be making money in a very weird way, but I'd still be rich! If my parents had a hard time with me and Bill Cole on the TV last year, they’re really going to be confused this time around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best costume I actually saw, was…well…it was a tie being between a very realistic and authentic Dos Equis Most Interesting Man in the World or just a kid wearing a plain white t-shirt that read, “I’m a crime alert!”  Everything else I saw was neither funny nor creative, like the excessive amount of Teletubby’s I noticed this year.  A Teletubby is the scariest Halloween costume ever and let me tell you why.  It’s not because the actual costume itself is frightening, it’s the actual human being that chose to wear the costume in the first place.  Anyone could be hiding under that toddler TV star, and I have to believe only pedophiles, serial rapist, or drug addicts would try such a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also spotted a lot of Snooki’s, from MTV’s hit reality TV show Jersey Shore.  This costume was easy to assemble because all you needed was a wig, a low skirt and even lower than usual standards and you’re all set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the funnier moments of the night was when I witnessed fake cops attempting to arrest real cops.  It’s my belief this situation took a 180 degree turn faster than you can say “incarceration.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also saw a real cop pulling over a Jimmy Johns employee.  I thought they were exempt from the law?  You can't be freaky fast while still being obedient to the laws of the road can you?  Of course, it could have been a sandwich making impostor but how can I be sure?   How will I ever know?!?  All these costumes and fake identities are messing with my mind.  Seesh, I'm glad Halloween is only once a year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-1743331814891197712?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/1743331814891197712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/11/boo.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1743331814891197712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1743331814891197712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/11/boo.html' title='Boo!'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-3586266644029026228</id><published>2010-10-21T11:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T11:31:46.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 13</title><content type='html'>When I think of something funny, I write them down in my phone.  Some of these have been in my Blackberry for awhile, while others I just thought of last night when I was enjoying my Happy Meal for grown-ups, a Big Mac. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Public Service Announcement&lt;/b&gt; - If anyone out there has Boardwalk for McDonald's Monopoly and wants to split a million dollars, hit me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If an audience finds a self-proclaimed comedian not comical, is he a comedian?  It's up to the audience to decide if he's funny or not, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check the definition&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comedian [kuh-mee-dee-n]&lt;br /&gt;-Noun&lt;br /&gt;1. A professional entertainer who amuses by relating anecdotes, acting out comical situations, engaging in humorous repartee, etc.&lt;br /&gt;2. An actor in comedy&lt;br /&gt;3. A writer of comedy&lt;br /&gt;4. Any comical or amusing person&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't define comedian without the word comical in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There should be a law that protects automobile drivers from hitting jay-walkers.  They shouldn't be walking there in the first place.  Even pedestrians have to wait their turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what happens if you delete all your web browsers and can't go to the internet to download another one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the type of better that doesn't collect when I win, and doesn't pay up when I lose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-3586266644029026228?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/3586266644029026228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/10/dirty-laundry-13.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3586266644029026228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3586266644029026228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/10/dirty-laundry-13.html' title='Dirty Laundry 13'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-3383853702123969523</id><published>2010-10-10T09:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T21:17:20.934-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Life Of A Walk-on</title><content type='html'>Being a walk-on is tough, and I respect those who are willing to do it.  They do everything a full athletic scholarship entails, minus the actual scholarship.  Last year, we Illini were lucky to have Bubba Chisholm because he had it all.  The hometown hero had the commitment, the enthusiasm, the fan appeal...hell he might have had a bit of sex appeal too and for a rookie walk-on that could be a lot to live up too.  Obviously, he's no Mark Titus of Club Trillion fame, but nonetheless it's some big shoes to fill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Into the picture comes Kevin Berardini from Lake Forest, Illinois and it doesn't matter that I haven't correctly pronounced his last name yet because he's also known as The New Bubba.  Kevin was thrown into the fire just in time for our fall conditioning workouts, and the glorious events college basketball coaches around the country like to call individuals.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The team full of jokesters we are, as we were showing Kevin the ropes that is Illinois basketball, we also had a little fun; comparing how physically tough it is to be a walk-on to unfeasible, ridiculous feats outside of basketball.  The jokes started off tame, and believable, but soon got to crazy, and hysterical.  If you don't know what I mean by now, here's a list I made with some of the best ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A walk-on has got to be able to lick their elbow without dislocating their shoulder...AND be able to sneeze with their eyes open.  Can't afford to miss a blink of the action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A walk-on should be able to find a word in the English dictionary that rhymes with orange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A walk-on's got to be able to pick a fight with Chuck Norris...and win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A walk-on's got to be able to drown a fish, compute the last digit of Pi, and slam a revolving door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know a walk-on has to know how to squeeze apple juice out a banana or milk a cow and get lemonade?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A walk-on has to deliver a sandwich faster than Jimmy John himself.  That's really freaking fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A walk-on's got to be able to walk on fire without getting burnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be a walk-on, you have to memorize all the final fatalities on Mortal Combat, and perform them in person if need be.  You should also be able to achieve all 120 stars on Super Mario 64 in less than 120 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A walk-on's got to be able to head butt a rhino and hurt the rhino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A walk-on's got to be able to take a charge on a full speeding LeBron James, run through the middle against the Ravens and Ray Lewis, get hit by a pitch from Randy Johnson in his prime, and stop a point blank slap shot from The Great One.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be a walk-on you got to be able to swim without getting wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, a walk-on should have something like a 77.7 GPA on a 4.0 scale, to offset any questions the NCAA might have about team GPA and eligibility.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-3383853702123969523?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/3383853702123969523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/10/life-of-walk-on.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3383853702123969523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3383853702123969523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/10/life-of-walk-on.html' title='The Life Of A Walk-on'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-5333192092685074708</id><published>2010-08-25T21:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T22:47:35.065-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"You Sound Like You're From London!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta content="text/html; 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 &lt;/m:defjc&gt;&lt;/m:rmargin&gt;&lt;/m:lmargin&gt;&lt;/m:dispdef&gt;&lt;/m:smallfrac&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can't tell you how many times that phrase was said during our day-trip to London.&amp;nbsp; I don't even think God knows.&amp;nbsp; It's a quote said by Paul Rudd from the movie, &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znW6bHxzExc"&gt;"Forgetting Sarah Marshall"&lt;/a&gt; and sounded like the perfect icebreaker when talking to complete strangers actually from London, an act which I did a lot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;One of the more popular topics of conversation with the Londoners was what football(soccer) team they supported(root for).&amp;nbsp; If you didn't know already, I'm a huge Manchester United fan and an even bigger Wayne Rooney fan so regardless of their answer to the above question and whether they wanted to hear it or not, I gave them by best &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YLd4R7XyWoU"&gt;Martin Tyler impersonation&lt;/a&gt; of a Rooney goal.&amp;nbsp; The Chelsea fans hated it, the Man U fans loved it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Aside from high-fiving other soccer fans, I have to say London is by far the coolest city I've ever been to.&amp;nbsp; All in one day, we went to see Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, the buildings of Parliament, the Prime Ministers house, and we traveled up the London Eye, the world's largest Ferris wheel situated in the heart of the city.&amp;nbsp; We also did some shopping in England, which included a trip to London's Nike Town.&amp;nbsp; As you might have guessed, this store had a whole floor dedicated to Europe's most prominent football clubs(teams).&amp;nbsp; On full display were the full authentic kits(jersey + matching shoes) from clubs like Manchester United, Liverpool FC, Chelsea, FC Porto, Inter Milan, AC Milan, FC Barcelona, and Real Madrid.&amp;nbsp; In my opinion, after studying each kit and balancing all the pros and cons, Inter had the sickest jerseys of them all, which is important information because everyone knows having fashionable outfits plays a huge role in determining which team you choose to use in the FIFA video game.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;You might have heard about it already, but I'm keeping a list of every state and country I've scored a basket in.&amp;nbsp; Basketball has provided me with some amazing opportunities to travel and see new places, so this is my way of keeping track of where I've been because of the game.&amp;nbsp; Prior to this trip I was at 26 states and 5 different countries.&amp;nbsp; The trip I just took was my 5th overseas adventure, including previous stops in Ireland, France, and the African nations of Senegal and Mali.&amp;nbsp; Obviously I added two countries to my list, Belgium and Germany, but I didn't manage to find a hoop while in England.&amp;nbsp; What I did manage to do is to persuade some kids playing soccer in the park to stop their game so I could shoot an undefended penalty kick.&amp;nbsp; Characteristically, I buried it in the upper left 90(corner) and walked off the pitch(field) without another word.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Our next stop after London was Dusseldorf, Germany.&amp;nbsp; From there we played two games, in as many nights, winning them both.&amp;nbsp; We cruised to victory in the first game but the second one proved to be much tougher.&amp;nbsp; For one thing, the fans decided it would be appropriate if they brought their &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_DKoXIyLWds&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;Vuvuzelas &lt;/a&gt;to the game and blow them at random times, like when I'm shooting a free throw.&amp;nbsp; I take back what I said about bringing Vuvuzelas to Assembly Hall, that would be a dire mistake.&amp;nbsp; Furthermore, this team featured former University of Arkansas multi-sport athlete Marcus Monk.&amp;nbsp; From what I can tell from his Wikipedia page, he spent the last couple of years in the NFL, spending time with the Chicago Bears and Carolina Panthers, before getting cut ahead of this season.&amp;nbsp; Can't make it in the NFL, try professional European basketball...at the division 2 level.&amp;nbsp; We won this game by a two.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Side note: Before we go any further, I want to take this time to express my distaste for carbonated water.&amp;nbsp; Two games in Germany, two games we were forced to use bubbly, tasteless, gas water as hydration.&amp;nbsp; I guess anything to get an advantage on the Americans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Finally, we did play one last game in Belgium on our last night abroad but there's not much to say about it except that we won by fifty.&amp;nbsp; Everything about this trip was awesome and I'm grateful for the experience.&amp;nbsp; We had a great time both on and off the court and you couldn't have asked for a better group of guys.&amp;nbsp; Even coach Price joined in on the fun and jokes.&amp;nbsp; I want to say thank you to coach Weber, coach Price, Global Sports Academy, and everyone else involved in&amp;nbsp; making this trip possible.&amp;nbsp; It was an experience I will never forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/THXM93PJ5bI/AAAAAAAAAHc/4ap-lNOFoRM/s1600/DSC00060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/THXM93PJ5bI/AAAAAAAAAHc/4ap-lNOFoRM/s320/DSC00060.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;The team in front of Buckingham Palace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/THXNNkYjR6I/AAAAAAAAAHk/qyx96DFSovs/s1600/DSC00092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/THXNNkYjR6I/AAAAAAAAAHk/qyx96DFSovs/s320/DSC00092.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Brandon and I in front of the buildings of Parliament&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/THXNYXJZCtI/AAAAAAAAAHs/wVjvtLSVdzY/s1600/DSC00110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/THXNYXJZCtI/AAAAAAAAAHs/wVjvtLSVdzY/s320/DSC00110.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;The Wayne Rooney display in Nike Town&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/THXNkKR9Q_I/AAAAAAAAAH0/bkHGPlMAbPk/s1600/london-eye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/THXNkKR9Q_I/AAAAAAAAAH0/bkHGPlMAbPk/s320/london-eye.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;The London Eye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-5333192092685074708?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/5333192092685074708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/08/you-sound-like-youre-from-london.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5333192092685074708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5333192092685074708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/08/you-sound-like-youre-from-london.html' title='&quot;You Sound Like You&apos;re From London!&quot;'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/THXM93PJ5bI/AAAAAAAAAHc/4ap-lNOFoRM/s72-c/DSC00060.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-8503252326818583812</id><published>2010-08-15T17:51:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T16:29:13.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Did My Thursday Go?</title><content type='html'>Being stuck on an airplane for 8 hours is no fun. Good thing I’m somewhat of an experienced flier and know how to beg for an exit row. And I got lucky enough to sit next to a 10 year-old kid from Belgium who didn’t mind me stretching my legs every so often. If he did mind my legs in his personal space, I wouldn’t have known it because we both couldn’t communicate to each other. There’s something about younger kids speaking a language I don’t understand. I don’t like it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The excitement on this trip started before we even left the city of Chicago. Surrounded by a circle of 6’5, 300lbs bodyguards, was Aubrey Graham&amp;nbsp;also known as the rapper Drake. As excited as I was, I wasn’t nearly as thrilled as Brandon Paul who hopped up from seat to plead for a picture. Brandon got his picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TGhdxkb6y-I/AAAAAAAAAFs/j0SYmjJOa8U/s1600/drake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TGhdxkb6y-I/AAAAAAAAAFs/j0SYmjJOa8U/s320/drake.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I did is give Drake that awkward stare that says, “I know who you are but I’m not going to tell you, I’m just going to tell the people next to me.” It’s just like the stares my teammates and I get when were out to eat at a restaurant around Champaign, except on a different level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So our flight took 8 hours and left Chicago at 6pm and arrived in Brussels at 9am the next morning. If you’re counting at home, obviously I’m missing a few hours somewhere. My Thursday night was accelerated at an alarming rate. It was only dark for three hours! (I know this because I witnessed it. It’s physically impossible for me to fall asleep anywhere but a bed.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see it as time travel, but I guess the most logical reason is because we traveled against the rotation of the Earth with a turbo boost of tail wind and a helping hand of changing time zones. But even with all that said I’m still&amp;nbsp;seven hours in the future and you’re not, ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After surviving practice on the day of arrival, our first full day here we toured the city of Bruges, Belgium. Bruges is most famous for being the lace capitol of the world. Lace panties, lace bras, lace placements, yes that kind of lace. During the tour, we ate lunch in the town square, and I couldn’t help but notice the ridiculous prices for food and drinks. Considering the outrageous conversion rate from the U.S. dollar to the Euro, which is $1.30 to every Euro right now; it was 12e for a bowl of spaghetti, 4e for bread sticks, and 6e for a liter of water! The whole time I’m thinking I could go to Olive Garden in America and have this exact meal, with unlimited salad, bread sticks and WATER, for half the price in American dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first game was also that day and as you can imagine it was full of tired eyes and jet-lagged legs. Even though we were a step slower than normal, we still pulled out the sloppy win by 10 points or so. No one’s arguing, a win is a win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next game we played was after another nights rest, and we definitely played like it too. Everybody was up bouncing around, getting hyped and couldn’t wait to get started. We won this game too, and I even managed to put together a solid game. I blame it on the pregame meal though, which consisted of an authentic Belgium waffle, smothered in strawberries, chocolate syrup, and vanilla ice cream. It was delicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that pretty much covers everything for now, as we don’t play another game for a couple days. Tomorrow we travel to London, England to sightsee and I’m really looking forward to it. I’ve always wanted to go to England and now I got the chance. I may never get another opportunity like this so I'm going to take full advantage. I’ll make sure to post some pictures when I get back. For right now, here are some of the pictures I’ve already taken. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't forget to follow me on twitter: @tylergriffey&lt;br /&gt;Even though @coachjayprice seems to be beating me to the updates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TGhtN4aB0MI/AAAAAAAAAF8/Omcie2fiLzQ/s1600/DSC00015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TGhtN4aB0MI/AAAAAAAAAF8/Omcie2fiLzQ/s320/DSC00015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The team in front of the Atomium in Brussels&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TGhtgjJKToI/AAAAAAAAAGE/rKSBTj2Gbsk/s1600/DSC00020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TGhtgjJKToI/AAAAAAAAAGE/rKSBTj2Gbsk/s320/DSC00020.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="border: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The view when we climbed to the top.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="border: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="border: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TGhsyvWOQhI/AAAAAAAAAF0/yGejFASVnIE/s1600/DSC00010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TGhsyvWOQhI/AAAAAAAAAF0/yGejFASVnIE/s320/DSC00010.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Canals in&amp;nbsp;Bruges, Belgium&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TGht2tUFW4I/AAAAAAAAAGM/gZKXWYeIX8k/s1600/DSC00038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TGht2tUFW4I/AAAAAAAAAGM/gZKXWYeIX8k/s320/DSC00038.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Action shot!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-8503252326818583812?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/8503252326818583812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/08/where-did-my-thursday-go.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/8503252326818583812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/8503252326818583812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/08/where-did-my-thursday-go.html' title='Where Did My Thursday Go?'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TGhdxkb6y-I/AAAAAAAAAFs/j0SYmjJOa8U/s72-c/drake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-3561923645764465310</id><published>2010-07-25T13:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T13:29:48.737-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 12</title><content type='html'>Remember, Dirty Laundry is my set aside place for all the information floating inside my brain that I deem not important enough to have its own post but still relevant enough to be posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I ordered a club sandwich at a fancy restaurant.  In order for the club sandwich to meet my personal specifications, this is what needed to be done.  Instead of white bread, I asked for wheat.  And I'm certainly not a fan of mayo so I exchanged that for mustard. I also added bacon and instead of Swiss cheese, I substituted in cheddar.  After all these modifications, is my club sandwich a part of the club anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TEx8eHiOV5I/AAAAAAAAAFk/M1O5e9TW9YA/s1600/Club.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="153" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TEx8eHiOV5I/AAAAAAAAAFk/M1O5e9TW9YA/s200/Club.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Lost, my newest TV adventure is following Jack Bauer save the world in the show 24.  Am I really supposed to believe this guy saves the world on nine different occasions?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do bad guys on television or in the movies have really bad aim when it comes to killing the main character but demonstrate a near flawless  ability to shoot the other characters throughout the rest of the film?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found myself watching the WNBA the other day.&amp;nbsp; Seriously, I'm convinced if you teach a girl how to pivot at a young age, she'll be a freaking All-American.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Premature joculation: The act of celebrating an event before the outcome has been determined.  Usually results in one looking like a moron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, one of my sisters was at Mizzou volleyball camp and the other here with me at Illinois volleyball camp.&amp;nbsp; Someday, the alliances in the Griffey household could very well be divided.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;Apple is releasing a special edition LeBron James iPhone but the problem is it only vibrates because it has no RING!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel bad for weather forecasters in the Midwest and whoever replaces Lou Piniella.&amp;nbsp; I wouldn't want those jobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have some time to kill, which you probably do because you're reading this, check out &lt;a href="http://www.flipcollective.com/2010/07/13/lebron-james-hates-you-by-paul-shirley/"&gt;this &lt;/a&gt;article written by Paul Shirley.&amp;nbsp; It's about life and the NBA.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jaw-breakers is an awful name for a yummy fruit flavored treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TEx8azs8rxI/AAAAAAAAAFU/BGl3ziXgeb4/s1600/3866670372_a18c547f95.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="177" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TEx8azs8rxI/AAAAAAAAAFU/BGl3ziXgeb4/s320/3866670372_a18c547f95.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would happen if a tornado actually occurred on the first Tuesday of the month?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;Did you know every time the Droid phone commercial airs George Lucas gets paid?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; He cleverly copyrighted the word "Droid". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beats by Dre.&amp;nbsp; A surround-sound stereo system you can wear as headgear.&amp;nbsp; For those of you who want to impair your hearing while others who are 20 feet away enjoy at a normal decibel level.&amp;nbsp; Whenever I left my iPod on team trips, Mike always had my back and let me listen to his...while I was 5 rows in front of him.&amp;nbsp; Doesn't Dr. Dre know that if his customers go deaf no one will be able to listen to his music?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TEx8cyzT_NI/AAAAAAAAAFc/wzQ4p0PkeGM/s1600/as12-beats-by-dre-ftg-frankfurt-300x241.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="160" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TEx8cyzT_NI/AAAAAAAAAFc/wzQ4p0PkeGM/s200/as12-beats-by-dre-ftg-frankfurt-300x241.png" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-3561923645764465310?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/3561923645764465310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/07/dirty-laundry-12.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3561923645764465310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3561923645764465310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/07/dirty-laundry-12.html' title='Dirty Laundry 12'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TEx8eHiOV5I/AAAAAAAAAFk/M1O5e9TW9YA/s72-c/Club.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-3092383353195048386</id><published>2010-07-03T19:02:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T21:32:35.804-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Manure, Fireworks, and Greatness</title><content type='html'>For the first time in three weeks, I woke up this morning and didn’t gag/choke/almost regurgitate after I took my first breath of air in the morning.  No today I took a deep breath, inhaled, exhaled, and then smiled.  This can mean only one thing…I’m not in Champaign anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only am I taking a weekend off after a strenuous three weeks of vigorous training, elite-level basketball, and laborious weightlifting, but I’m also escaping the dreadful stench of cow poop that’s surrounding our beloved campus.  Why didn’t anyone mention this before I chose to come to school here?  Juuuuust kiddingggg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve heard that our agricultural school is really respected around the country; ranked in the top 25 or something like that.  Did they base the rankings on which campus most smelled like pig, cow and horse manure?  I don’t even know where the agricultural buildings are, but all I have to do is follow the stink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well actually, I do have some sort of idea.  Lying on the other side of the street across from our practice facility is a mess of horse stables, pig pens, and cow pastures down yonder.  Not to give our strength and conditioning coach any ideas but if we were to go outside and do conditioning drills sometime soon the whole team would most certainly suffocate to death…except maybe the Riverton, Illinois born Tisdale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I’m at home right now and enjoying this beautiful weather on the holiday weekend.  I’m enjoying it while I can because come Sunday, this beautiful weather will be polluted with hundreds of thousands of fireworks to celebrate America’s 234th birthday.  Nothing like killing the future so we can preserve the present.  Let’s celebrate America’s birthday by blowing a small piece of her up…fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I wasn’t lucky enough to sneak off to the lake (of the Ozarks) like everyone else I know, I’m making quite well here by myself.  I’ve been hitting the pool, playing some XBOX, and achieving the impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I know you’re wondering how I might have managed that last one and before you get your panties all in a bunch I will tell you how I did it…in due time.  It all started at the pool this weekend when I was doing some thinking and came up with the crazy idea to combine Michael Jordan and Jesus into one graceful, yet thunderous athletic accomplishment.  I realize some Chicagoans might not see a difference in those two individuals and I can’t really blame them but all I ask for is them to see the difference for the rest of this blog post.  I think they can handle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like an achievement you strive for on your XBOX, it took the right mix of practice, skill, and a little bit of luck to get this right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call it the “Walk on Water Dunk”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In words, I ran across the width of the pool (Jesus-esque) and dunked the ball in the hoop (MJ-esque) situated on the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it is in pictures.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TC_u1xhemgI/AAAAAAAAAE0/MGbZuK0TaQE/s1600/1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TC_u1xhemgI/AAAAAAAAAE0/MGbZuK0TaQE/s320/1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489869078382156290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TC_vKrHhkYI/AAAAAAAAAE8/1Vj9kceSXho/s1600/2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TC_vKrHhkYI/AAAAAAAAAE8/1Vj9kceSXho/s320/2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489869437439938946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TC_vo0UKKxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/0bIssiwju1k/s1600/3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TC_vo0UKKxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/0bIssiwju1k/s320/3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489869955304925970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TC_wE8U1hTI/AAAAAAAAAFM/vCEK460llQQ/s1600/4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TC_wE8U1hTI/AAAAAAAAAFM/vCEK460llQQ/s320/4.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489870438491587890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I cheated...but just a little.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-3092383353195048386?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/3092383353195048386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/07/manure-fireworks-and-greatness.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3092383353195048386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3092383353195048386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/07/manure-fireworks-and-greatness.html' title='Manure, Fireworks, and Greatness'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TC_u1xhemgI/AAAAAAAAAE0/MGbZuK0TaQE/s72-c/1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-796339417683330155</id><published>2010-05-28T20:52:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T00:40:00.531-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Realization: Boredom</title><content type='html'>Two hours since walking in the front door home and I was already asking myself the question, what the heck am I going to do while everyone is still in school?  I'm not one to sleep in so it gives me about six hours of free time to fill with miscellaneous activities to occupy my time and stimulate my brain.  I know coach would like me to be working out that whole time, but that's not quite realistic is it?  Video games were fun for the first couple of days, but for me to get a challenging, competitive match on FIFA is harder than trying to find money in &lt;a href="http://deadspin.com/5547373/eddy-curry-cant-pay-his-bills"&gt;Eddy Curry's bank account&lt;/a&gt;.  (Any challengers drop your gamer tag in a tweet mentioning my name or leave it in the comments section of this post and we'll play sometime.)   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was in desperate need of a hobby, something to fill the void left within those six hours, until I had someone to play with.  A couple of weeks ago I asked a question on my facebook page about what's a good television show I should start get caught up on.  I was impressed by how many people commented and I appreciated the input, but I had already had a show in mind.  I was just waiting for it to download.  (A 35GB torrent takes a lot of time with a shaky internet connection).  The show I picked was Lost, and by golly since then it has taken over my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a crack addict on steroids when it comes to watching Lost.  It took me a little under 48 hours to watch the complete first season.  I was too embarrassed to do the math on how much watching that &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;actually &lt;/span&gt;is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show is bloody brilliant (Sorry Charlie's accent is rubbing off on me) and I almost feel sorry for those who watched it week by week, when the episodes originally aired.  The writers of this show are geniuses at creating cliff-hangers and if I had that much time in between each Lost fix, I would have given up a long time ago.  That's the just addiction, it's like a book you cannot put down, you &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;want &lt;/span&gt;to find the resolution to the questions left unanswered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulling myself away from the television has been difficult, but the sun and the pool in my backyard has been really good in offering enticing bribes.  Seriously, who can pass up a pool in the summertime?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-796339417683330155?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/796339417683330155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/05/realization-boredom.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/796339417683330155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/796339417683330155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/05/realization-boredom.html' title='Realization: Boredom'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-6660044571561927683</id><published>2010-05-26T19:03:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T00:49:56.878-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dentist</title><content type='html'>Never was a big fan of going to the dentist.  All it feels like I get out of there is a set of bleeding gums and a tooth brush in an attempt to cheer me up afterwards.  One thing I am glad about is how I grew out of having to bite into that foam fluoride stuff anymore.  I used to have nightmares of having that flavored toothpaste being shoved down my throat.  The worst part was afterwards you weren't supposed to eat or drink for 45 minutes and what made it even more terrible is my dentist is situated by some really delicious restaurants.  So that's a plus.  Also I don't know about you, but I think the high-powered specialized toothbrush the hygienist uses tickles like crazy.  It was from her, my hygienist, and OMGFacts, that I learned you can in fact tickle yourself if you just rub your finger on the top of your mouth. (Please Advise: Wash hands first).  Yeah I know it's weird but ever since I can remember I've been enamored with why you can't tickle yourself.  Well now you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from the giggles because of the tickles, it's not much fun after that.  One of the things I hate about the dentist is the big, bright light they shine directly in front of your face.  The whole time I'm sitting there I'm thinking, "Damn I really use a pair of UV protection sunglasses right now and a bottle of SPF 30 wouldn't hurt either."  The tooth inspector I went to as a kid would let me wear sunglasses to block the light and as it turns out, I don't ever recall outgrowing sunglasses at any point in my life, so this is serving as my reminder to bring some with me next time.  It'd actually just be easier if every dentist had a pair handy for any patients who asked for them.  I don't care if they're Ray Bans or shutter shades, anything would help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that annoys me about the dentist is this: You know the bib they wrap around your neck as you take a seat in the examination chair?  I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;hate &lt;/span&gt;it when the hygienist wipes her utensils on my bib.  Can't they get their own damn napkin to wipe the gunk off?  I know it's my gunk on the instruments but it's the principle of the it that really bothers me.  Just get your own handkerchief, k?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TACq5BkAipI/AAAAAAAAAEs/HDHDDZcntfU/s1600/Dentist.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TACq5BkAipI/AAAAAAAAAEs/HDHDDZcntfU/s320/Dentist.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476565043531254418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-6660044571561927683?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/6660044571561927683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/05/dentist.html#comment-form' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6660044571561927683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6660044571561927683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/05/dentist.html' title='The Dentist'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/TACq5BkAipI/AAAAAAAAAEs/HDHDDZcntfU/s72-c/Dentist.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-6327960236200858648</id><published>2010-05-25T21:40:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T19:07:44.195-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Welcome Home</title><content type='html'>Summer is finally upon us and while most people who still can check mark the box beside "student" on government forms have roughly three months to sit around and do absolutely nothing productive, us college athletes have three glorious weeks (give or take three weeks) of lounge time before its stripped from us all over again.  So excuse me for being rude Champaign when I burnt rubber out of there the instant my last final was over, driving as quickly as my 4-cylinder SUV would take me en route home...or to the Lou as some people would call it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Quick what are some other lame nicknames for cities.  Here's the one's that I can think of off the top of my head.&lt;br /&gt;H-Town - Houston &lt;br /&gt;The A - Atlanta&lt;br /&gt;Sac Town - Sacramento&lt;br /&gt;Chambana - Champaign-Urbana&lt;br /&gt;Oh yea I forgot, here's the close parenthesis)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, being home is totally fabulous.  (Hard not to sound feminine when using totally and fabulous in the same sentence but yeah I said it).  I forgot how nice it is to be cooked for every night, my laundry done for me every day, and to have a pantry stocked full of delectable goodies at my disposal whenever I feel like it. (Disposal is kind of a funny word to put there, because my mom is continually amazed at the amount of food I eat and sometimes can't keep up; even with a stocked pantry.)  There's a catch though, to being home and having all this done for me.  When going over the rules my parents drew up upon my birth I must have missed something in the fine print that said as soon as the first born leaves for college the rest of the children have the right to invade on the vacant-for-the-moment room.  Therefore now I am stuck sharing a room with my nine year old brother, which used to be my sisters room, and my sisters took the rooms my brother and I left.  Hopefully that made sense because I'm too upset to continue.  Below, is a visual representation of what the room I used to call mine, looks like now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/S_yMi1J6_1I/AAAAAAAAAEU/6oB7wYftAk0/s1600/SANY2278.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/S_yMi1J6_1I/AAAAAAAAAEU/6oB7wYftAk0/s400/SANY2278.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475405776987815762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the room that I'm sharing with my nine year old brother.  I am not pleased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/S_yNBWBey3I/AAAAAAAAAEc/TtKk_mqRzU8/s1600/SANY2279.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/S_yNBWBey3I/AAAAAAAAAEc/TtKk_mqRzU8/s400/SANY2279.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475406301206858610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to not having a space to call my own, I had a hard time finding a place for my personal belongings, such as my computer.  This is where my desktop currently sits, in the closet my brother and I share when I'm at home.  Yes that is a card table and yes those are beanie babies in the background.  I'm not claiming them to be mine but it's possible they were at one point in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/S_yNbk6W_ZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/kcG_56eBhIU/s1600/SANY2281.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/S_yNbk6W_ZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/kcG_56eBhIU/s400/SANY2281.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475406751880117650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;All images used by permission of the Griffey Family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the outrageous sleeping arrangements in the Griffey household, I've been getting accustomed to doing nothing all day and kind of liking it.  Every day I wake up, and ask my mom what we're going to do  and she always responds with, "nothing."  So I'd go workout, play some Xbox, and watch the clock tick until my brother would get home from school so we could play.  Needless to say I was surprised when one day her response to that question was I had a dentist appointment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-6327960236200858648?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/6327960236200858648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-welcome-home.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6327960236200858648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6327960236200858648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-welcome-home.html' title='My Welcome Home'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/S_yMi1J6_1I/AAAAAAAAAEU/6oB7wYftAk0/s72-c/SANY2278.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-4200913931275321095</id><published>2010-05-06T22:09:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T17:56:10.907-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Players' Dictionary</title><content type='html'>When I joined the team last summer, it didn't take long for me to notice a new trend that was happening in my life.  After each and every workout, practice or weights session, I would always find myself rushing to get home to hop on the computer, type in the URL for Urban Dictionary, and look up whatever new word was used by my teammates that day.  Pickup games became a Cultural Studies class.  I was the student, Chester, Mike D, and Dominique were the teachers.   What I was observing everyday was a remarkable mixing of cultures, collision of backgrounds, and a general merging of geographical slang words from different places around the country.  (I'm kind of disappointed we didn't have a foreign player to see what words he brought to the table).  To make sense of it all, I wrote most of these words down in my own definitions in an easy-to-read format with examples for better understanding.  Keeping this information to myself didn't feel right to me, so I am sharing it with you, right here, right now.  I also do want to say that if it wasn't for Kyle Clifford, this post would have never happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Introducing the "Players" dictionary.  A dictionary by yours truly to keep the world in order and confusion at a minimum.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burner – Noun.  Similar to in the video game NBA Jam when you make three shots in a row, you’re on fire.  Ex. “Juan hasn’t missed a shot all day.  He’s got a burner.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bounce - Adj. Describing someone's vertical leap. Ex. "Did you see where that dude jumped from?  He got bounce!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chu – (Okay so "You" is a pronoun. "Chu" doesn't have a part of speech). – What you get when you don't fully pronounce the 3 letter word "you". Also the sound you make when you sneeze. &lt;br /&gt;Me: Hey can you grab my wallet from the gym, I left it up there.&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous: I got chu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crackin' - Adj.  Describes an event that is particularly crowded with a hidden meaning that others should join.  &lt;br /&gt;Me: How's the party?&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous: It's crackin'!! Sorority girls everywhere.  Where you at?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'll be there in 2. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fam – Noun.  Word put at the end of a sentence or statement to someone that is either really close to you, or in your family.  Ex. “What you doin’ tonight fam?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finna – Adv. Used as a connector word to explain what one is soon to do; Synonymous with ‘about’.  Ex. I’m finna get some food then chill with my roommates.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foo – Adj.  Thought to be short for “fool” but research is inconclusive.  Ex. “You better watch yo’self foo!” 2. Can describe something dysfunctional, for example Jon and Kate Gosslin’s family matters.  3. Also used to describe something below an acceptable standard of quality or performance. Ex. “The Chicago Cubs are foo.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G – Adj.  Short for gangster or gangsta.  Usually put at the end of verbal comments or remarks to add a connotation and a directed title to whomever the speaker is referring to.  From my understanding  a synonym would be dude.  &lt;br /&gt;Anonymous: Wud up G?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Was that even English?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jai – Adv.  A worded version of an exponent; used to drastically enhance the meaning of the word that immediately precedes it.  Ex. School has been terrible lately, I’m jai excited for summer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joint – Noun.  NO, not drug paraphernalia.  But in most cases I’ve seen, joint refers to an object that is about to be described, most likely a song or movie.  &lt;br /&gt;Me: Have you heard the new Eminem song?&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous: Yeah dude that joint rock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nun (None), Pause, no homo – Noun.  Used as an escape word after saying something that could have homosexual meanings when not intending to. In other words ruling out the homosexual context of something said to another man.  Ex. I’ve been in the gym all day working on my ball handling, PAUSE!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.C. – Adj.  Most often used as a verbal acronym with a literal meaning of ‘Out of Control’ [Outta Control]. Ex. Tiger Woods sex addiction was O.C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Deck – Phrase meaning what is coming up next.  Pretty self-explanatory but you've ever watched a baseball game in your life but figured I should include it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salty - Adj. Meaning not very happy.  Pissed off. Ex. The teacher gave a pop quiz and you showed up late to class.  You're salty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tough – Adj.  Another word to indicate approval or admiration.  Ex. “This iPad is tough!”  Synonym with other slang words that mean approval: cool, sweet, tight, sick, awesome, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The word document I was typing this in had so many red squiggly lines I felt my work had been graded by a 3 year-old.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-4200913931275321095?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/4200913931275321095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/05/players-dictionary.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4200913931275321095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4200913931275321095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/05/players-dictionary.html' title='The Players&apos; Dictionary'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-7376240474336029512</id><published>2010-04-19T11:28:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T23:25:54.600-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Running From April</title><content type='html'>To whichever April I pissed off, I'm sorry for whatever I did to you, I truly am.  I don't know what I could have done to cause you to act this harshly, but I'd greatly appreciate it if you left me, and particularly my face alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;Tyler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had one hell of an month, and it's not even over so let's get right to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week ago, I was perfectly happy with how my face looked.  Around that same time, Mike Tisdale &lt;em&gt;didn't&lt;/em&gt;.  He didn't like it so much that he decided to take matters into his own elbows and give my face a little rearranging to his own liking.  Introducing Dr. Mike Tisdale, top notch face rearranger, specializing with elbows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Mike are pretty good friends, he even took me to his house one time where he showed off his hunting gear and weapons.  What he didn't show me was his bows.  I was formally introduced last Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Playing defense against Tisdale is like being on the defensive in a boxing match.  Standing there, quick feet, bouncing around, head swinging but instead dodging an array of jabs and hay-makers, I'm dodging swinging elbows that can pack a &lt;em&gt;punch &lt;/em&gt;ten times harder. (pun intended)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my nose job, I met with my lawyers about the situation.  I should have known by all the deer heads mounted on the wall at his house that it was only a matter of time before a misfire happened.  I've decided to bring a lawsuit against Mr. Tisdale for assault with a lethal weapon.  Them bows are deadly and I'm lucky to be alive.  Pray for me when me and him are living together next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just one short year ago, another unfortunate incident occurred, in the month of April, and coincidentally(not ironically) to one of my facial features.  A long story short I fractured my jaw in early April, and had no idea till late April it was actually broken. (Almost 2 weeks went by with me not noticing a broken jaw in my face.  I actually ate steak the night it happened and still didn't know...ouch)  It took a regularly scheduled dentist appointment, despite much detest from my mother (because I was missing school at the time), to notice something was off.  Dentist appointment was at 8am in the morning, he took one look at me and sent me to the Ortho by 10am. There they took some quick X-rays and I was at the REAL facial surgeon (sorry Tizzy) by 2pm.  My mom met me there and quickly and unsympathetically  apologized for the grief she was showing me just 6 hours earlier for missing school.  I guess school is more important than living the last 2 weeks of my life with a broken bone in my face.  By 4pm this same day, I woke up with 8 screws in my mouth and 4 wires going between them.  My last meal was a single french fry from White Castle...I miss White Castle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why I really don't like April.  Do you know what happens in April/May for a high school senior?  Graduation parties, prom, and graduation itself.  Let's play the numbers game real fast,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of weeks wired shut - 6 weeks&lt;br /&gt;Number of graduation parties where my meal was a smoothie - 13&lt;br /&gt;Total net worth of gift cards I once owned from planet smoothie and cold stone - $125.00&lt;br /&gt;Grams of liquid protein consumed - &gt;10,000g&lt;br /&gt;Amount of weight lost in first three days - 15lbs&lt;br /&gt;Number of broken noses I’d get before I had to break my jaw again - 8&lt;br /&gt;My meal at prom - mashed potatoes (not math, just thought you'd like to know)&lt;br /&gt;Number of smiles I cracked during this memorable time in my life - negative&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April once brought with her visions of pretty blossoming flowers and bright, sunny weather.  Now that crazy b*t*ch won’t leave me alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-7376240474336029512?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/7376240474336029512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/04/running-from-april.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/7376240474336029512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/7376240474336029512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/04/running-from-april.html' title='Running From April'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-2494512929886295501</id><published>2010-04-01T14:44:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T10:33:11.124-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Call Me I'll Call You</title><content type='html'>Thomas Jefferson was one cool dude.  Along with being one of the founding fathers of the greatest country in the world, he was also our 3rd president, the principle author of the Declaration of Independence, and our country's 1st Secretary of State.  Pretty impressive, right ladies? Yeah I thought so too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it turns out the ladies were even impressed back then and aside from being all those important professions mentioned above, Thomas Jefferson was indeed a ladies' man, and apparently a prominent one at that.  In the wake of the recent Tiger Woods debacle, I was left wondering how the most famous athlete on the planet, one that's worth over a billion dollars, can get away with having multiple mistresses without being seen once by a fan, reporter, anyone who recognized him standing next to a woman that's not his wife.  Regardless of who he had working with him, or who he paid off, that's an incredible feat in today's world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long ago, if Thomas Jefferson wanted to "holla" at one of his "shorties" (sorry my teammates everyday dialect is rubbing off on me) he would have had to send a very racy, and privately worded, telegram, or walk up to her and (gasp!) engage in conversation himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Tiger could have communicated with his "bitties" (damn teammates) in multiple ways without leaving a trace of evidence or being suspected in anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is in today's world, privacy is way undervalued and under-appreciated.  Try this on for size...any of you familiar with the movie, "He's Just Not That Into You"?  If so you'll recognize this quote, "I had this guy leave me a voice mail at work, so I called him at home, and then he e-mailed me to my Blackberry, so I texted to his cell, and now you just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm not trying to be like Tiger, but in my personal opinion social networking and means of communication has gotten way out of hand, but still I cannot seem to stop.  Wanna chat?  Get ready.  If you can't reach me at home try calling...or texting my cell, I always have it with me.  Hell, if you want we can sext...I'm a sexting virgin, but I'm always looking for something new.  If you can't do that, leave a voice mail, I'll get it eventually.  If I know you professionally (professors), e-mail me.  Of course I do have a personal e-mail account as well, multiple actually, but those are for signing up for the other social networking sites because they are required.  Are you just a friend?  Did I go to school with you?  Do we know each other casually?  Request to add me as a friend on facebook.  I'll get it.  Or Twitter.  I tweet a lot, you can follow me and I can follow you.  It'll be a blast.  My latest tweet, "To the guy that discovered milk...what the hell was he doing with that cow?"  Not into those things like twitter or facebook? (seriously who doesn't have a facebook)We can Skype.  I just got a web cam, we can video chat, it's actually pretty cool once you figure it out and oh yeah I completely forgot...snail mail.  I have a place called home, its got an address, just send me a letter...I love letters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can take a deep breath now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the funny thing is, with me being a college student, and pretty savvy with technology, if you "hit me up" (my teammates again, sorry) on any of these but the regular mail and my house phone, they come directly to my cell phone.  All those means of communication, trapped into one device, that my Dad would say, "is constantly attached to my hip."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cyberspace is an ever growing community.  World Wide Web really does mean worldwide,  and just not including ours.  There's a whole universe out there of a different dimension that I bet all of you reading this are a part of. (Don't try to lie because I mean, you are reading this blog in some form of web browser.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only question is when will it end?  The answer....probably never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I will take the time to give a shout out to all the managers of the basketball team this year.  They help me make sense out of this world and I appreciate that...oh yea and they also rebounded a ton of shots of mine...thanks guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also want to take this time to have a moment of silence for Chris Althoff's finger.  Because as far as we can tell, his finger will never be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did this while helping me set up the shooting machine we have in the gym.  This is a picture of it today, but it happened like two months ago.  Sorry Chris!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/S7VUYvkbboI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Eirf3u71l3E/s1600/imagejpeg_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/S7VUYvkbboI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Eirf3u71l3E/s400/imagejpeg_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455359307692076674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-2494512929886295501?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/2494512929886295501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/04/dont-call-me-ill-call-you.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2494512929886295501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2494512929886295501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/04/dont-call-me-ill-call-you.html' title='Don&apos;t Call Me I&apos;ll Call You'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/S7VUYvkbboI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Eirf3u71l3E/s72-c/imagejpeg_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-6988257707732318626</id><published>2010-03-03T19:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T01:54:06.359-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Olympic Fever</title><content type='html'>I go crazy for the Olympics, and I just can’t seem to put my finger on why.  It doesn’t matter the sport, the time of year, or which underdeveloped country is getting slaughtered now, I’m in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can slap an American patch on any jersey of any athlete in the world and I would cheer for them.  My overzealous pride for my country cannot be matched, as the same with my hatred for another shame of a country, a country that produced the most annoying and bothersome celebrities ever such as Alan Thicke, Shania Twain, and Celine Dion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to root for the Olympic storylines that sweep America off their feet.  I was on the edge of my seat every time Apolo Ohno skated, I kept an eye on the American hockey team as they came five minutes away from another miracle, and I was heartbroken when I heard of Lindsey Vonn’s crash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even learned of a new sport (game?) called curling and it was particularly interesting to me because it looked as if it took no athletic skill whatsoever to compete in and that’s my kind of game. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also learned mom’s always do know best, but sometimes it can be in an unforeseen way.  Many years ago when I was in my hyper active stage with ample amount of free time to cause destruction around the house, my mom would always punish me by making me do the one choir I hated the most, sweeping the kitchen floor.  It wasn’t until just now did I realize that in fact, my mother was just giving me quality practice time to work on my sweeping skills so I could be a professional curler, in case basketball didn’t work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I watched when that burly American, who would have looked better in a slow pitch softball game or a beer drinking contest, launched (curled?) his 4th consecutive unsuccessful game winner down the ice.  Whoever coached this team obviously recruited the wrong type of players (sweepers?)  This game (activity?) is more suited for the moms of Middle America than those lumberjack drunks from those states up north.  Did anybody bring the latest issue of “Good Housekeeping” to Vancouver? Because I think it could have been helpful.  At times, this sport looked more like a "Swiffer" commercial than an Olympic game. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I bet I could have done better than those guys did.  Heck, give me the Firebolt broomstick from Harry Potter and I could teach those curlers a lesson.  So thanks Mom, for not only letting me follow my dream, but also giving me options to a backup plan in case the first one fell through.  Love you!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never in my life, have I witnessed more hockey in a two week period that the one that just passed.  Happy Gilmore would have been proud as I did whatever it took, to watch my precious hockey game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole tournament was a piece of cake until at the very last second, when Sidney wanted to feed the inner “kid” in him and stole the last piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Olympics have come and gone, but not without dreams being shattered and tears being shed.  I guess I won’t be able to feel this proud to be an American for another two years…but wait a minute, what’s there to say we can’t have a fall Olympics or a Spring Olympics?  What’s keeping professional Halo out of the Olympics or cup stacking?  All in favor say, “I”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, we do have the World Cup to look forward to.  The highly anticipated rematch of the Revolutionary war of England and the USA is sure to be a dandy and I can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-6988257707732318626?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/6988257707732318626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/03/olympic-fever.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6988257707732318626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6988257707732318626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/03/olympic-fever.html' title='Olympic Fever'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-2543007698957304421</id><published>2010-02-18T22:35:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T12:49:04.876-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rambling</title><content type='html'>Since Tiger Woods decided to show his face in public again I figured it'd be a good time to come out from my hiding place as well. I can't tell you where I've been, it’s a secret, but it wasn't sex rehab. Personally I hope Tiger takes a page out of Allen Iverson’s book, and goes on a rant tomorrow at his press conference. "We talkin' about sex, not golf, sex. I'm supposed to be the number one golfer in the world and everyone’s worried about my sex life. C'mon man!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's an unlikely possibility, but he could also pull a Kobe and just bring his wife along with a $3 million dollar ring. The world is funny sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to hoping The-Tiger-Woods-Press-Conference is a legit excuse to miss class tomorrow.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've been busy, really busy. Lately, I've been putting a lot of time trying to improve my throwing-of-balls-through-hoops accuracy. Unfortunately, that comes before blogging, and school work comes before both. Ahh, school work is taking over my life, like literally. The lab I'm doing just gave me a death threat. If I do not survive, someone please tell the team to go on to Purdue without me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another reason I haven't posted in awhile is lack of material. Just a bunch of short quirks that are better suited for twitter than blogging, but anyway, here they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of materials...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Materialism,&lt;br /&gt;Stop taking all my money. I don't always have to own the newest, coolest gadget out there. Stop sending me that impulse that you get in the store that makes me an impulse buyer. I don't like that.&lt;br /&gt;-Tyler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens when you put the dial for hot/air conditioning in your car directly at the top? What type of air blows out? Room temperature?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were to guess, how many Main Street, USAs are there? Your guess is as good as mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of people obsess over getting acquainted with the newest trends. I obsess over bringing old trends back to life. This time? The regular, good-old school style handshake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If light sabers were real, would my life be any different? How so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;^^Where do I come up with this stuff???^^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does everybody really love Raymond or are they just joking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend called and told me his birthday was the other day. He asked why he didn't receive a "Happy Birthday" from me. I responded with e-mail was down and facebook didn't remind me, sorry!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I absolutely love ketchup.....but hate tomatoes, V8 juice, and tomato soup. What gives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will Ferrell had so much potential, but was a complete bust in my mind. He had some great moments (Talladega nights, anchorman) but the rest was just stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I'm driving on the highway in the rain I love saying out loud, "STOP" when I cross under an overpass. It feels like I can control the rain. Think this will Impress Emma Watson???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think one person that's asked me to join their "lost phone, need numbers" group on facebook had my phone number in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what kills me? When I feel obligated to say, "Nice to meet you" when you first encounter with a person is ending. What if I didn't want to meet you? It’s that kind of stuff though you have to do if you want to stay alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in Illinois it’s now illegal to view electronic devices and drive at the same time. Can I pull a citizen’s arrest every time I see a cop operating the laptop computer sitting in their passenger seat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CBS should hire Kanye West to cut off announcers when they talk too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured out why mustache hair is different than most people’s hair color. The mustache hair is 20 years younger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens if CBS were to ever cancel the show Survivor? The last season should be a cannibal edition, fight to the death, reality TV. That'd be awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s weird that chairs even exist when you’re not sitting on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a friend that only calls me from the toilet. It’s weird I know but I haven't heard from him in awhile I hope he’s okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;600. Now around 120. What am I talking about? The attendance the first day of class and the average ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After writing this and looking around my apartment....I don't think I can take care of myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-TG&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;What I learned: Tiger is a better golfer than he is actor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What Tiger should have said: I fully blame NIKE for repeatedly telling me to, "Just Do It". Worst advice ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What should have happened: I should have been hired to write the Tiger apology. All he had to do was say he's sorry, blame NIKE, and remind everyone he's worth a billion dollars and the still the best golfer in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My apology also would have included a lot of well placed Beeps and would have been no longer than a minute thirty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-2543007698957304421?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/2543007698957304421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/02/rambling.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2543007698957304421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2543007698957304421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/02/rambling.html' title='Rambling'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-4520043274424164145</id><published>2010-01-29T00:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T00:19:24.964-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Attack of the Killer Squirrel</title><content type='html'>You know those situations in life where, something just unexpectedly pops out at you at the most unsuspecting moment to make you jump or twitch in fear?  I had one of those the other day, where a split second jolt of sheer terror flew through me so fast I almost crapped my pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a very relaxed midmorning so far and I had some time to kill in-between classes.  I figured I had enough time to get a Subway sandwich and then drive back to my class early enough to get a good parking space, where I could sit and enjoy my sandwich in my car before class started.  Once I parked my car, I had roughly thirty minutes to chill out and take pleasure in consuming my lunch and that’s exactly what I did.  As I mentioned earlier, it was midmorning on a school day and campus was heavily congested with students and somehow, only me, sitting alone in my car, noticed a furry little squirrel climbing on the windshield of the car in front of me.  Me being easily amused, I got a kick out of the situation so I took a picture with my phone because that’s not something you see every day.  (This would have definitely been a Twitpic, had not been banned)  After I took the picture, the squirrel jumped off the car and my thoughts concentrated back on my yummy snack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of minutes passed and all of a sudden, seemingly out of nowhere, this same squirrel decided to somehow climb onto the roof of my car, without me noticing, and hop down onto my shield of wind as well. All in a split seconds worth of time, I noticed the movement out of the corner of my eye and when I looked up to see what caused the movement; my eyes met the damn animal’s scurrying underside. (Don’t judge me when I say this as I just feel like mentioning this killer squirrel was without a doubt a &lt;em&gt;male&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that split second, a jolt of terror tore through my body, and immediately left me as a girly squeal as I tried to roll up my window so the damn thing couldn’t get inside to hurt me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within my act of flinching out of startling fright, I painfully rammed my knees into the steering wheel column and bumped my head on the roof all in a shower of fresh lettuce as my sandwich I had just been enjoying went airborne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My breathing was rapid.  My heart skipped a beat I will never get back.  And worst of all, my sandwich and clean car were completely ruined.  This is why I never watch scary movies.  Who wants to sit in a dark movie theatre and watch people make a wrong turn into some woods and make very idiotic decisions?  It’s just not fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please let me know your thoughts on this.  Parts you don't understand, grammer mistakes, anything would be helpful, thanks&lt;br /&gt;-TG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-4520043274424164145?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/4520043274424164145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/01/attack-of-killer-squirrel.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4520043274424164145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4520043274424164145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/01/attack-of-killer-squirrel.html' title='Attack of the Killer Squirrel'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-7549264714762296492</id><published>2010-01-19T13:46:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T13:49:38.727-06:00</updated><title type='text'>If You Could Choose</title><content type='html'>If you had the chance to meet any one person, one human being (no biblical characters), past or present, who would it be?  What would you discuss and why would you choose them?  I’m talking about getting inside their heads, knowing their intentions and seeing what they're all about.  Want to know who I’d choose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a doubt, I would choose Leonardo Da Vinci hands down.  Bet you didn’t see that coming.  During school, whenever we talked about Da Vinci and his work, I was always intrigued by how someone could dream up theories and concepts years before the technology was even thought of.  After half a semester of constantly falling asleep through AP European History in high school, it took a man like Da Vinci to spark my interest and wake me up.  I marveled at how someone could envision modern day helicopters hundreds of years before the technology to build them, was even available.  He also sketched the Vitruvian Man diagram, a cultural iconic symbol so innovative at the time we still use it today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate that you can’t cite Wikipedia, but according to them Da Vinci was a painter, sculptor, architect, musician, scientist, mathematician, engineer, inventor, anatomist, geologist, botanist and writer.  What I think is most impressive about this list is even through my 19 years of life on this earth I still do not know what a few of those mean.  Add in that Da Vinci was doing them in the latter part of the 15th century and I live in the 21st century and I’m even more embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would sit down and ask him about the mysteries surrounding his most famous paintings, the Mona Lisa and The Last Supper.  Few works have been subject to as much scrutiny, study, mythologizing, and parody as The Mona Lisa.  I’d ask him the real meaning of the artwork and what he was trying to accomplish by painting it.  I think it’s possible that his work has been overanalyzed through the years and therefore unintended symbolisms have been drawn out by people after Da Vinci’s time.  It’s impossible to tell and nobody knows, but I’d like to find out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leonardo is also revered for his technological ingenuity.  I would love to pick his brain and find out how he could construct and visualize designs not even feasible during his time.  He conceptualized a helicopter, a tank, concentrated solar power, a calculator, the double hull and outlined a rudimentary theory of plate tectonics.  Think about all the information, inventions, ideas, predictions, or artworks that he could create with the power of today’s world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honorable mention: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;J.D. Salinger&lt;/strong&gt; – Thoughts behind my favorite book of all-time “Catcher and the Rye”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mark Twain&lt;/strong&gt; – Who wouldn’t want to spend a day with Mark Twain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;George Washington&lt;/strong&gt; – Ask for his thoughts on our government today? What is was like founding and writing a government for an entire country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Adolf Hitler&lt;/strong&gt; – I’d just ask why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Abe Lincoln&lt;/strong&gt; – I’d ask about the Civil War, slavery, and his time as the President&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julius Ceaser&lt;/strong&gt; – I’m not really familiar with Ceaser’s story but I wanted to choose someone from the Roman Empire times to see what that was all about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave a comment and tell me who you would choose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-7549264714762296492?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/7549264714762296492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/01/if-you-could-choose.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/7549264714762296492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/7549264714762296492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/01/if-you-could-choose.html' title='If You Could Choose'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-2506941411318762359</id><published>2010-01-08T22:34:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T23:30:50.988-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 11</title><content type='html'>"If you would not be forgotten, as soon as you are dead and rotten, either write things worth reading, or do things worth the writing." ~ Ben Franklin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had thought of this. Some guy at &lt;a href="http://1000awesomethings.com/"&gt;http://1000awesomethings.com/&lt;/a&gt; is reminding me, 1 day at a time, why life is awesome. Check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best advice ever given. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't let school get in the way of your education.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am declaring myself the Pete Rose of Twitter because I’ve been banned for life. I still check updates though and still get the feeling I can’t go to sleep until “goodnight” is a trending topic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday is an unpleasant way to spend 14% of your life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whats the difference between questionable and probable on an injury list? I've also seen a player's appearance as doubtful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The earth's like a billion years old. Celebrating every new year is a little redundant to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why leave me a voicemail? I check my voicemail like once a month. If you need to talk to me, call again. If I want to talk to you, I’ll answer, or at least call you back. And if I call you and you answer the phone with a “Yellow!” instead of “Hello”, there’s a strong possibility I’ll never talk to you again, I’m not joking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to the bowling alley the other day and noticed how the actual “bowling lanes” look perfectly polished and basically brand new, despite people chucking bowling balls down at them every single day. So what’s their secret? How do bowling alleys actually keep their lanes from getting dinks and scratches? All I know is my parents get pissed every time they find a new scratch on our hardwood floors so maybe they need to go to the local bowling alley to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I still lived at home and it was dinner time, instead of my mother yelling for me to come downstairs she’d call me on my cell phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our family dog is named &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Rebound &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;(not my idea), there’s got to be some humor in that, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else find that blue girl in Avatar somewhat attractive? I was so baffled by my feelings for her I went and saw the movie again. I've decided she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Texas high school basketball team beat their opponent 170-35.  When asked why he didn't pull his starters or stopped pressing, the winning coach responded with, "we were going for 200."  My thoughts are that is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I tried to walk into Target, but I missed. Damn."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The thing about tennis is: No matter how much I play I’ll never be as good as a wall. They’re f**king relentless”&lt;br /&gt;-Both of those from Mitch Hedberg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-2506941411318762359?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/2506941411318762359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/01/dirty-laundry-11.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2506941411318762359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2506941411318762359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/01/dirty-laundry-11.html' title='Dirty Laundry 11'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-5341234452740286140</id><published>2010-01-03T21:41:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T21:44:56.744-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Silly Santa</title><content type='html'>That Santa Claus is a clever man.  This past Christmas he demonstrated why if the whole gift-giving thing didn’t work out, he could have been a starting pitcher for the New York Yankees because he threw me a curve ball that dipped so low even El Hombre couldn’t have seen it (And we Cardinals fans know that just isn’t possible).  Not only did Santa deliver me my clone without me noticing for a couple days, he did so in a way unanticipated by all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a gloomy Christmas morning when I realized I didn’t get what I asked for.  All I wanted was a clone.  Not some headphones, deodorant, or an Xbox game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Xbox game was EA’s (Electronic Arts) latest installment of their College Basketball series and I immediately didn’t think nothing of it because, I’ve been receiving that game for years now.  What made this year’s special though is that I am actually in the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn’t the exact present I was asking for but in a way, one could see Santa’s ingenious thinking.  A virtual version of me is better than nothing, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is kind of like when I turned 16 and asked my grandma for a car and she deceitfully agreed.  It’s not funny now and it wasn’t funny then when on my birthday she got me a Hot Wheels car and thought that would meet my requirements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I’ve been playing the game for awhile now and I am in the middle of my lengthy but highly entertaining dynasty with the Fighting Illini.  This is a game mode where I am in complete control of all aspects of the team. (I control the roster, game plan, scheduling and even recruiting)  The first order of business was to reorder the roster to how I want it to be.  As a gamer, I am notoriously known to make horrible use of my bench in sports games, so a flawless and absolute superior starting 5 is crucial to the success of my team.  This is why I spent an elongated amount of time analyzing and justifying to myself which players needed to be in the lineup.  Before I did anything, the first moves I made were to redshirt Joe, and to cut Alex because he would be transferring soon anyway.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, since &lt;strong&gt;I’m me &lt;/strong&gt;and &lt;strong&gt;me&lt;/strong&gt; is actually in the game, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I &lt;/strong&gt;had to start no questions asked.&lt;/em&gt;  The only debate was to what position &lt;strong&gt;I &lt;/strong&gt;would play &lt;strong&gt;me &lt;/strong&gt;at?  Given that &lt;strong&gt;I &lt;/strong&gt;had already boosted &lt;strong&gt;my &lt;/strong&gt;ratings to what &lt;strong&gt;I &lt;/strong&gt;believe realistic (by default &lt;strong&gt;I’m &lt;/strong&gt;rated a 74 player, but after some excellent coaching by &lt;strong&gt;yours truly&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;I &lt;/strong&gt;raised &lt;strong&gt;myself &lt;/strong&gt;to an 85 overall) &lt;strong&gt;I &lt;/strong&gt;could play any position.  My finalized starting 5 is 1. Demetri 2. Brandon 3. Mike D. 4. Me 5. Mike T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My game plan is simple, give the ball to me, every single possession and good things will happen.  I am currently averaging 25.5 points, 5 rebounds, and 8 assists per game.  Anyone who’s ever played a basketball video game would know that it’s really tough to control rebounds when getting assists is much easier.  That’s why I think I confuse the game into making virtual me a very strong candidate for the Player of the Year award.  The game recognizes my 25 points and 8 assists, and then they see I’m doing it from the power forward position and it confuses them.  Then they must have to think, “Yeah, this kid’s good.”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Since I made myself one of the best players in the nation, I mean game; it’s a pretty logical concept.  And since I’m a pretty good team player/coach/gamer I make sure my teammates get their looks too. &lt;br /&gt;All the players are averaging over 6 points, Tisdale leading the country with 14 boards a contest, and Brandon and Mike Davis are up there in shooting percentage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it’s a virtually created atmosphere, I can tell when the crowd is pumped up and when the player will make the next shot.  That’s why I have Brandon and Mike Davis go stand in the corner and wait till the crowd gets pumped to get them a shot.  It works every time and they are both good for at least three 3’s a game.  Tisdale just cleans up all of my misses, hence the absurd 14 rebounds a game, and McCamey is usually good for 2 or 3 fast break layups a game as well. The rest is all me slicin’ and dicin’ my way to my average, and dropping dimes like I’m the white Chris Paul. My game plan is pretty much fail proof and is the reason why my current record is 14-1.  The one loss came from an accidental simulation of the game at Indiana but oh well, I’ll recover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My team is well on their way to a Big Ten championship and a NCAA tournament appearance.  Barring no simulated injuries or other freak accidents (Ex. losing all saved data) we should be the favorites to win the National title and for me to be Player of the Year and that would make me really happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-5341234452740286140?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/5341234452740286140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/01/silly-santa.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5341234452740286140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5341234452740286140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2010/01/silly-santa.html' title='Silly Santa'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-5044667676412779617</id><published>2009-12-29T22:27:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T22:33:20.827-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Problematic Breastfeeding</title><content type='html'>Its winter break and all the students have gone home for the holidays.  Once again I am stuck here with just the basketball guys, because it seems like this time most of the Asians went home as well.  Without class or virtually any signs of human life, I’m left with my computer, TV, Xbox, and basketball to occupy my time.  Like most, I procrastinated to do my Christmas shopping and was left scrambling around to find gifts for my loved ones at the last possible moment.  One morning I rose particularly early because I decided to venture out to do some shopping.  First I stopped at Atlanta Bread Company to get my early morning coffee fix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There I was in the restaurant, minding my own business, enjoying my coffee and breakfast sandwich like any regular patron would.  Also not unlike a normal customer you’d find at these places, I had my laptop propped open in front of me as I surfed my daily websites and tried to find new blogging material.  During this blogging phase of my life, my computer has had the privilege of traveling with me wherever I go.  I love going to places with free wi-fi internet for a change of setting so I can sit, relax, observe and write.  The difference in surroundings helps me think clearer and write better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I am gathering my thoughts down for a future post, a situation unfolds right in front of me that is absolutely blog relevant.  Into Atlanta Bread Company walks a mother, carrying a few months old baby, nestled quietly between her arm and shoulder.  I witnessed this person walk in and quickly find a seat.  I found it odd she didn’t order anything at the counter; but I shrugged it off and continued typing away.  It was one of those circumstances where the mom took a seat right in the direction I was facing, but was blocked in my direct line of sight behind my computer screen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I continued typing, my unconscious vision (when you’re aware of what’s going on around you but you don’t pay attention) witnessed this woman unfold a blanket and place it over her right chest area.  As my mind processed the information (woman + blanket over chest + baby) and concluded on what could potentially happen here, she was already fiddling with her shirt underneath, and pushing the baby’s head under too.  &lt;em&gt;She wouldn’t, she wouldn’t, would she? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;By this time my eyes were peering over the computer screen and watching as the baby’s face went from a very tiresome look to one of tremendous delight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breast feeding in a public place?  Really?  Want to hear the rest of the story?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About five minutes later, in walks another woman carrying a baby of about the same age as the other.  She sits down right next to the other lady, and she begins breastfeeding too, only this woman wasn’t kind enough to cover with a blanket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took that as my cue to leave, and said that out loud as a matter of fact.  New mothers out there, I know you’re dying to show everyone the new “no-longer-pregnant” you, but get-together public breastfeeding is never okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-5044667676412779617?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/5044667676412779617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/problematic-breastfeeding.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5044667676412779617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5044667676412779617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/problematic-breastfeeding.html' title='Problematic Breastfeeding'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-1539698417753261578</id><published>2009-12-26T22:45:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T22:45:47.008-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another One Of My Theories</title><content type='html'>I survived finals week and everything that comes with it, I think.  Probably the most significant thing was I didn’t suffer a heart attack from putting inhumanly amounts of coffee into my system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know all of you remember what I said about me not studying for my finals and true to my word I didn’t hit many books.  My extreme coffee intake was because I had to get up so damn early almost every day.  For someone that already has trouble sleeping; waking up before I’m ready isn’t very cool.  It was still dark out when I woke up and when I turned on the TV for light, I found out yet another rerun of Sports Center airs right before Mike and Mike in the Morning.  I could have lived my entire life without knowing that and would have been perfectly happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What pissed me off the most about finals was the disparity of attendance between regular class days and finals days.  I would be one of those who attended class regularly, sat in the same seat every day, right next to the same girl on my left who was always unknowingly helpful whenever I had a question.  (She was good-looking too but that’s beside the point)  Not only was I left without a seat, the class was so packed that the only option left was to find the most comfortable place to curl up on the floor and take your test.  What type of teacher forgets to have enough desks available on finals day?  Words cannot describe the sudden anger that resonated in my body.  It was of pure hate and the kids in my seat must have sense the anger pouring out of me because as soon as I strode over to them they looked like Marc Bulger in the pocket scampering and scrambling for their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They’re certain test-taking skills one most possess if they want to excel in any type of school environment.  One is to go through the test and answer all the easy questions first, then go back and work the harder ones.  I’ve found this way you might find the meaning of a word or concept within another question and that could in turn answer a harder question by itself.  Another is when you definitely aren’t certain of the answer you can try to eliminate any answers that could never in a million years be the correct one, to improve guessing odds.  Well, by using these obvious strategies on my finals, I think I did fairly well and hopefully achieved the grade range I set for myself on each one.  However, recently it was made know to me that someone I know scored a 1/50 on a multiple choice test.  That is by far the lowest grade I’ve seen ever besides a 0.  I have a theory, and it’s going to sound weird at first but you’ll have to let me explain.  I believe this person, who got the -49, actually is extremely smart.  I can’t think of any reason to brag about this humiliating score, but it dawned on me that this kid in question could actually be smarter than he’s played out to be.  Check it out, on a 50 question test, with the only possible answers as A, B, C, D, if you answer all C’s like straight down the line you’re guaranteed at least a 12%.  My logic would be even if the test was in an unrecognizable hieroglyphic language, I’d still be smart enough to bubble in all A’s like straight-ticket voting, and get much better than a 2%.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this kid actually knew all the answers all along but purposely put down the wrong answers for some unknown reason which explains the 2%.  I call this theory the “BrainlessSmart” theory.  Apparently, though ill-advised, my “BrainlessSmart” theory has some unforeseeable advantages that would make someone have to use it.  If you come across a situation where the theory could apply to you, let me hear about it, I’m dying to know…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-1539698417753261578?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/1539698417753261578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/another-one-of-my-theories.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1539698417753261578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1539698417753261578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/another-one-of-my-theories.html' title='Another One Of My Theories'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-5576010789491501568</id><published>2009-12-17T18:26:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T18:29:57.091-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lists</title><content type='html'>Lists are way overdone but that's not going to stop me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inventions I could not live without&lt;br /&gt;1. Pizza Parties&lt;br /&gt;-Who doesn’t like pizza and who doesn’t love parties?  Combine them together to create one epic event that appeals to everybody.&lt;br /&gt;2. Separate shoes for each foot&lt;br /&gt;-Whoever came up with this idea is a genius&lt;br /&gt;3. Automatic hand sanitizer dispensers&lt;br /&gt;-In the wake of our countries H1N1 epidemic, these were placed all throughout campus buildings.  Don’t you hate when you get too much hand sanitizer on your hands?  These are calibrated to give you just the right amount.&lt;br /&gt;4. Elastic waistbands&lt;br /&gt;-Allow room for expansion if needed at feasts or other eating events.  Comfortable.  Elastic waistband jeans are taking it overboard though.&lt;br /&gt;5. The WTF blanket aka Snuggie&lt;br /&gt;-Not to different than the robes the students at Hogwarts wear, when I put one of these babies on, an immediate sense of magical powers and kingship ripples through me.  I feel like these things give me the power to just sit back on my couch and rule Champaign.  Impossible to feel almighty while wearing one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shopping stores that you could spend a lot of time in and not buy anything&lt;br /&gt;1. Shaper Image&lt;br /&gt;-Gadgets you didn’t think exist are in the Image.  A must stop to all mall goers, you could spend all day looking at their high-tech toys.&lt;br /&gt;2. Bass Pro shops&lt;br /&gt;-The one in Springfield, MO especially.  Even those who hate the outdoors could spend some serious time in there.&lt;br /&gt;3. Love Seat/Love Shack&lt;br /&gt;-The store that sells those big bean bags in the mall.  Easy to sit in one and fall asleep instantly.  I’ve done it before.&lt;br /&gt;4. Brookstone&lt;br /&gt;-Massage chairs.  Need I say more?&lt;br /&gt;5. Borders&lt;br /&gt;- It’s easy to grab a book and latte and sit there and read six chapters of a book you haven’t bought yet.  Or stand at the docking stations and listen to that whole CD you were thinking about buying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things the Christmas season can do without&lt;br /&gt;1. Imposter Santa’s&lt;br /&gt;2. Fake beards (Not referring to &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&amp;source=hp&amp;q=amanda+beard&amp;aq=f&amp;oq=&amp;aqi=g10"&gt;Amanda Beard &lt;/a&gt;in any way)&lt;br /&gt;3. Egg nog&lt;br /&gt;4. Class finals&lt;br /&gt;5. Peppermint candies in the form of canes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-5576010789491501568?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/5576010789491501568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/lists.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5576010789491501568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5576010789491501568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/lists.html' title='Lists'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-5842951830423434017</id><published>2009-12-15T13:58:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T14:15:40.771-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Santa'/><title type='text'>Dear, The Fat Man In A Red Suit</title><content type='html'>It’s that time of the year where jingle bells, snowflakes, and visions of sugarplums are overtaking the minds of millions of children across the world. All the hoopla surrounding the holiday season is a joy to many, and to me it’s no exception. I wanted to make this year extra special so I decided to join the millions of children across the world and write a letter to the Big Guy in The Red Suit telling him what I would like for Christmas. Hopefully he comes through in the clutch and delivers me the gift that will surly keep on giving. Here goes nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Santa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my first letter I’ve ever written (to you) and in case you didn’t know, my name is Tyler. I haven’t formally been taught to send mail the regular way as I am a teenager in the 21st century and my main means of communication are texting and social networking. In fact, I got your address off your Facebook page. (thanks for accepting my friend request) Hopefully I addressed this correctly and it gets sent to the real Santa Claus because everyone knows, there’s enough Santa posers in this world already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As this is my first time contacting you, first let me say thank you for the Xbox a couple years back and I always appreciate the annual assortment of Axe deodorant products I receive under the tree. I don’t know if you’re sending me a message or not, but I am not the smelly kid in class. If you have time, read my blog, especially the &lt;a href="http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/stick-to-your-strengths.html"&gt;Stick To My Strengths &lt;/a&gt;post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I’m supposed to believe that your big butt has been stopping by the house for the past 18 years and shimmying your way down my chimney. I am finally old enough to realize that that is really weird and creepy, and this Christmas if you want in, just call beforehand. You got my number, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you probably get a lot of letters containing absurd Christmas lists from kids wanting almost everything in the whole world but this letter is different. I’ve been nice to my sisters (within reason) this year and therefore don’t think I made the naughty list, but what makes this letter different is that I’m only asking for one thing, and that is a clone of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s the story, lately there hasn’t been enough of me to go around and I’m starting to feel the pull in all directions. Being in four or five places at once is not quite possible (How do you get to every house on Christmas eve?) and trust me when I said I’ve tried and failed miserably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A clone would allow me to be in two places at once, and thus get twice as much work done. For example, yesterday I had a speech to practice for, test to study for, essays to write, laundry to do, all while the phone was ringing, and a much needed trip to the bathroom was coming on. And that was all in one afternoon. Another me would have been great right about then, so if you could bring me a clone, with a great memory of course, who could do these things that’d be awesome. I’ll leave a to-do list next to the salad and glass of pomegranate juice I’m leaving you, so he can get a head start on the things that need to be done when you drop him off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it’s not too much trouble to ask for, can my clone come with my unparalleled Guitar Hero skills and a British accent? If you could that would be lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, my brother informed me that he really wants a Transformers action figure and doesn’t want anything that even remotely resembles clothes. He’s at that stage in his life where running around in his underwear and a batman cape is acceptable so no clothes are necessary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well have a safe trip around the world Santa, and give Mrs. Claus a hug for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SyfrEDgzujI/AAAAAAAAAD8/A_rLIwzLe_M/s1600-h/Momma%27s+Santa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 229px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SyfrEDgzujI/AAAAAAAAAD8/A_rLIwzLe_M/s400/Momma%27s+Santa.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415555531831228978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-What if you saw your Momma kissing this Santa Claus???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-5842951830423434017?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/5842951830423434017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/dear-fat-man-in-red-suit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5842951830423434017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5842951830423434017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/dear-fat-man-in-red-suit.html' title='Dear, The Fat Man In A Red Suit'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SyfrEDgzujI/AAAAAAAAAD8/A_rLIwzLe_M/s72-c/Momma%27s+Santa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-6337275264085740822</id><published>2009-12-14T17:38:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T18:05:05.890-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lame Jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laundry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Illinois'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 10 "Cleaning Out The Notebook"</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Dear mom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for doing my laundry for all those 18 years of my life.   I now realize what a pain in the a$$ it is.   Someday in the near future I’m going to have to stop going to Wal-Mart to keep buying new socks, boxers, and undershirts.  I don’t know what I would have done without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Special thanks to my sister (Brenna) for helping out with the laundry the last couple of years of the 18.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Love Tyler.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW HIRING: Someone to do my laundry.  E-mail me for details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things that I recall from my flight to Las Vegas over Thanksgiving weekend,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;36 inches&lt;/strong&gt;- The approximate height Mike Tisdale had to duck to fit into the on-flight bathroom.  To this day I don’t know how he did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4&lt;/strong&gt;-Number of times I flipped through SkyMall magazine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;100%&lt;/strong&gt;-Percentage of items in SkyMall magazine that I really want but don’t really need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a really awkward feeling when you’re sitting in an aisle seat on a plane, and you’re watching a movie and a lady walks down the aisle every time there’s a “love scene”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Found some money on the ground the other day and in the time after I saw it and before I picked it up I heard the music from the Gieco commercials playing in my head.  Yes it was as awesome as it sounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do doctors call what they do a practice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If MySpace made every girl think they’re a model, Twitter is going to make every girl think they are popular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is abbreviation such a long word?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said before, I never repeat myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have this whole college dating thing figured out.  Here’s the perfect date.  First, since you’re in college and you don’t have a car, walk to her dorm.  Attention: flowers optional but recommended.  Next, walk her down to dinner and since meals are already prepaid, use your iCard to swipe you both in.  After that, grab a tray, get some food, and sit yourselves down at an empty table.  After dinner, take her to your room, pop in a movie, and your all set.  When the movies over, or should I say you’re finished, you can walk her back to her room.  This is too easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I think you’re delusional because I distinctly remember crossing you over, putting it between my legs, stepping back, screaming ‘seeee yaaaa’ as I released it and sure enough, boom trey bomb in ya grill.” – &lt;em&gt;Actual quote said by me after practice one day directly to a teammate that shall remain unknown.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t understand the association between quitting and frozen turkey?  Like the saying, “I quit smoking cold turkey.”  I don’t get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are so inconsiderate these days.  I was raised to hold the door open for someone behind you, or move out the way when I’m in the way.  If someone does something for me, whether they were required to or not, I say “thank you”. I wish someone would return the favor…  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes in practice, we do competitive drills where Coach has special rules to help us work on what he is teaching us.  For example, some of the rules are you can’t dribble, you have to get a post touch before you shoot, or you can only shoot layups.  The other day, during a competitive four on four game where the rule is no jump shots only layups, I found myself receiving the ball about two feet away from the block.  Before I remembered I could only lay it in, my basketball IQ told me the most successful shot in this situation would be my patented jump hook.  As the ball is in my right hand about to be released in jump hook form, I remembered coach’s words and in mid-air/mid-hook, I tried to be like Jordan (Mike not Jeff) and switch the ball into my left hand to attempt to lay it in.  I obviously didn’t muster enough strength after the pinnacle of my leap had already taken place, so my pathetic lay in was dreadfully short and immediately erased by an opposing team member. Oh well, I guess &lt;em&gt;better luck next time.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"If you did not write every day, the poisons would accumulate and you would begin to die, or act crazy or both -- you must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you." - Ray Bradbury&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why say the sky is the limit, when there are footprints on the moon?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corny jokes I stole from my corny jokes website&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you call a cow with no legs?&lt;br /&gt;-Ground beef&lt;br /&gt;How can you have bread if you are on a liquid diet?&lt;br /&gt;-Drink a toast&lt;br /&gt;What do you get from a pampered cow?&lt;br /&gt;-Spoiled milk&lt;br /&gt;How did Michael Jackson pick his nose?&lt;br /&gt;-From a catalog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SybSnTfjiBI/AAAAAAAAAD0/jpOLl3V0y8E/s1600-h/imagesxmas_20lights%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SybSnTfjiBI/AAAAAAAAAD0/jpOLl3V0y8E/s320/imagesxmas_20lights%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415247174648956946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-6337275264085740822?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/6337275264085740822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/dirty-laundry-10-cleaning-out-notebook.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6337275264085740822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6337275264085740822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/dirty-laundry-10-cleaning-out-notebook.html' title='Dirty Laundry 10 &quot;Cleaning Out The Notebook&quot;'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SybSnTfjiBI/AAAAAAAAAD0/jpOLl3V0y8E/s72-c/imagesxmas_20lights%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-7208538714466403951</id><published>2009-12-10T20:08:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T14:34:35.464-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Finals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Illinois'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Campus life'/><title type='text'>The End Of The Beginning</title><content type='html'>Finals start this week. Wait what?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s right, 1/8 of my college career is coming to a close.  It’s been a good start and has absolutely flown by.  I’m having fun, learning a lot, and making the most of my time here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve never been one to stress over finals that much, it’s too much of a cliché for me.  My plan has always been to take care of business during the semester then the only work I really have to do is calculate my grade up to this point, and figure out a range of what I could score on my final without causing my overall grade to fluctuate.  This is a daunting task too, because the only thing in math I’m good at is the law of averages and that’s only because I wanted to figure out my scoring average in high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, my philosophy has not yet been discovered by everyone else and students all around campus are having complete mental breakdowns from over-stress.  It must suck being pushed to the brink analyzing lecture notes, schedules, or study guides.  I’ll never forget the ear-popping shriek of terror from the girl that sits behind me in the middle of class when she noticed she had scheduled two finals at the exact same time.  I found this completely rude and unacceptable and she was calmly asked to leave the classroom, by me.   Both the professor and the rest of the spooked class agreed with my wish, and she shame walked out of the building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Campus life also has a weird feeling about it as well.  Instead of over-crowding the usual campus hangouts (bars), students are lining up outside Starbucks and Bread Co.  The following is an actual order, placed by a girl in front of me at Starbucks. (&lt;em&gt;Read really fast and I swear I’m not joking&lt;/em&gt;.)  “Yeah, hi, yeah, I’ll take a Café mocha with 2 shots of espresso.  Can you do that?  I sure hope so.  And I’ll take a espresso frappuccino blended coffee also. (ten second pause) Oh wait, and I want two more double shots of espresso. Can I do that?  Did you get all that?  Do you want me to repeat?”  Quickly doing the math in my head, I calculated seven shots of espresso and urgently wished this girl good luck at not getting a heart attack.  Later that night I heard ambulances rushing down the street and I wondered…but nah it couldn’t be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t help but notice the lack of sleep the student body as a whole is experiencing.  Walking to class is similar to a scene from Dawn of the Dead, a bunch of red-eyed zombies, muttering class notes to themselves, walking in a stupor with no awareness of their immediate surroundings.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What’s even worse is the weather has turned to crap.  Vicious 40-MPH winds have been ripping about thrashing through campus lifting up those not prepared or heavy enough to withstand it.  On a recent trip outside, I was suddenly, without warning, propelled to my tippy toes by an unmatched supernatural strength.  I timidly glanced behind me, quickly looked both ways to the side and stole a peek above me searching for the culprit.  When I saw nobody around, I whispered to myself, “God???”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll probably be really bored during the holiday break because let’s face it; I never leave my place anyway except to go to Qdoba or Ubben basketball complex.  Maybe I’ll have some time to do some things with the blog that I’ve been dreaming up.  You never know but I know you wouldn’t want to miss out so check back often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-7208538714466403951?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/7208538714466403951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/end-of-beginning.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/7208538714466403951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/7208538714466403951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/end-of-beginning.html' title='The End Of The Beginning'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-1127087502314338927</id><published>2009-12-07T19:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T19:39:29.278-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Any Given Sunday</title><content type='html'>Another Sunday has come and gone and as usual, I was found sitting in front of the TV, enjoying an assortment of finger foods and snacks while watching football (other than worship, what else is Sunday good for?).  I feel it’s also worth noting that Sports Center finally went back to reviewing the other sports this weekend.  It was the first time in a week that they showed only about 20% of Tiger Woods compared to the 90% it was the last week.  I heard he got fined $167.00 dollars.  Does Tiger even carry bills that low?  I bet he has that in his car’s cup holder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m a long time NFL fan, but not die-hard mind you.  I know enough to know what’s going on; yet only watch the more entertaining teams and my beloved Cowboys.  I like to follow a few marquee players like the Manning brothers, Giselle Bundchen's husband, and the grocer turned hall of famer, Kurt Warner.  And also the really entertaining players like Terrell Owens and Chad Ochocinco. (I heard a rumor that Chad was thinking about changing his last name to Childplease.  That would be awesome.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have gotten a twitter account, Ochocinco has quickly and effectively moved up to one of my favorite players.  On his twitter, he posts where he will be eating lunch at that day, and he offers to the first 50 people to show up, lunch is on him.  He also does this for movies and such, offering to pay for any fans wearing a Ochocinco jersey.  I think that is a pretty unique way to connect with his fan base, and therefore has my approval and willingness to put him in my top 5 favorite players.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of sports, wouldn’t it be a lot cooler if they allowed the actual team mascot to participate in the actual game?  For example, the Chicago Bears could have a 650-lbs grizzly bear playing linebacker and the New York Giants would be unstoppable with their 10-foot tall running back.  What else would be cool is if the Dallas Cowboys could have a bunch of actual Cowboys running around and the Washington Redskins could have a bunch of Indians.  If they were ever to play each other, it would be like a new school version of the old school game cowboys and Indians.  (The Cowboys shotgun offense would be the most feared offense in the league, don’t you think?)  This would be really cool unless you were the Miami Dolphins or the Arizona Cardinals, haha.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, more on team names, given the way how corporations are buying the naming rights of stadiums and arenas (Landshark stadium, the Honda Center) I think we aren’t far off from teams being named for the corporations they represent instead of the location.  So like, instead of the Dallas Cowboys, it would be the Chevy Cowboys and the Sony Seahawks instead of the Seattle Seahawks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some would even make a lot of sense, like having a Stanley Cup Final with the American Airlines Flyers (Philadelphia) and the Mrs. Butterworth Maple Leafs (Toronto). (Authors note: I do realize these teams are in the same conference. You suck for noticing that if you did.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing about sports is I don’t understand all the die-hard fans out there for certain teams.  So what if your team of choice wins a championship? Now what?  The most you get out of your team winning the big one is maybe a week’s worth of bragging rights and justification for wearing the old smelly jersey or hat you parade around town with. (You do realize this is a clever marketing ploy by the team to get YOU to pay for THEIR advertising, right?)  Unless you’re on the team or somehow related to a team member or if you’re in team management, you shouldn’t be all that excited when it comes to a sports team.  It makes you look kind of stupid. (There are a few exceptions with this, and I’ll get to those at the end) The other night I was enjoying my wings at the famous B Dubs (Buffalo Wild Wings) during the Big 12 Championship between Nebraska and Texas.  Sitting in a table beside us, a group of college-aged friends were gathered around some wings and berry lemonades with one of them being an obvious Texas football fan.  (as if the old dirty jersey, the worn out hat, and him yelling obscenities and the TV during the second half weren’t enough convincing).  If you recall, Texas won this game, but only after their Heisman candidate quarterback almost threw the game away, literally.  Within field goal range, and only seconds remaining, Colt McCoy dropped back to pass and threw the ball out of bounds in hopes of stopping the clock.  The only problem was the ball landed with like .000001 seconds left and after a review, the officials allowed Texas to kick the season-saving field goal to win the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should have seen the shenanigans this Texan was pulling.  During that final play, he jumped out of his chair in a fit of fury knocking over his berry lemonade in the process and began pacing the room; muttering a dangerous array of curse words in the crowded restaurant.  (I know his drink of choice because I had one myself and it was delicious) He didn’t seem to care about the rainbow colored stain on the crotch of his jeans as he was too busy cursing out the quarterback, the coach, the kid who stole his lunch money in first grade, the sensible Nebraska fan at the bar, and anybody else who got in the way.  I won’t share the plethora of curse words he was muttering, but I did see the look on one mother’s face that was of the utmost disgust, almost daring him to come closer and get into ear-shot of her little tykes playing the trivia.  I’m just glad Texas came back and won to restore all order in this dudes world.  For a second, it looked like suicide had entered his mind and nobody would have wanted that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my point, why on earth would anyone act like this?  Ah it just doesn’t make sense to me, but wait, the exceptions.  Here they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, the people who dress up at the Raiders game are the coolest fans ever.  My uncle is a former Los Angeles Raider and he said those were the meanest, grittiest fans ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, it’s okay to act like that if you have a great deal of money on the game.  Even though it is only legal to gamble in 2% of the United States, illegal gambling accounts for 98% of all gambling and its illegal for me so were going to leave this subject at once.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, it’s obviously okay to act crazy and to be in love with a sports team if you’re an illini fan.  For those of you who didn’t see this coming shame on you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-1127087502314338927?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/1127087502314338927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/any-given-sunday.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1127087502314338927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1127087502314338927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/any-given-sunday.html' title='Any Given Sunday'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-1421417887185067653</id><published>2009-12-01T23:27:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T12:19:44.780-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 9</title><content type='html'>I can’t believe this world of blogging has gone unnoticed by me for so long. How many of you all knew about this vast entertaining world and didn’t tell me about it? Shame on you. Since I started, I have discovered some brilliant blogs by some really creative individuals. I now follow more than a dozen websites that provide me with news, laughs, and just about everything in-between to get me through my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like a number of you have been astonished by my intelligence. (Thanks for revealing your stereotype of basketball players) My response to that is don’t be quick to judge people, sometimes they can surprise you, but in this case, it’s just me having a couple of good English teachers in middle school and stories to tell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it with the people commenting on my posts by only identifying themselves by the current location in which they read the blog? This looks like its straight out of a horror film and everyone knows I refuse to watch scary movies. (Knowing you only as the girls from room 221 is kind of creepy) It feels like I know you but I’m never sure due to my memory lapses of remembering names and who lives where. On another comment, they identify themselves as Kim from Bromley 726. I know a Kim that lives in Bromley but wasn’t sure of her room number. Needless to say I looked like an idiot when I confronted Kim about her comment and she had no idea what I was talking about. Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wait, it gets better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I have inspired Kim from Bromley 726 to start a blog of her own, and in my honor she has named her first post in my name. Not only do I think that is really cool, but she had some pretty nice things to say about me in the process, which makes it even cooler. Go check it out at http://kimcerf.blogspot.com/ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a class that is completely on the opposite side of campus from where I live. I take the same stretch of road every single day and lately, I’ve been timing myself (to the second) on how fast it takes me to get from my room to my class. If I beat my previous time, I believe I am going to have a good rest of the day but if I fail, then I get really upset and as a result, the upcoming day will be a disaster. All potential road distractions are fair game and you cannot stop the clock if you get stuck in traffic. But you don’t necessarily have to obey road laws either. (No cop no stop)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never really learned how to cuss until I started driving. I’m convinced Champaign, Illinois has the most generous DMV’s around and they hand out licenses’ like its candy on Halloween. Some people I see driving on the road, DO NOT belong there and I consider them a liability to society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my own set of rules of the road that I think everyone should follow. When it comes to stop signs, crossing lanes, making a turn into oncoming traffic, basically anywhere that could have cars crash, I calculate vehicles on what I call the collision factor. I put every means of transportation in my own echelon system based on size, durability, brute strength, and sheer badassness. To explain further, if there is a four way stop sign and a cement truck wants to turn left, and a Ford Focus wants to continue straight. In order for that cement truck to make a left turn, it would have to cross the very near-future path of the Focus to get where it needs to go. Even if the Focus arrived at the stop sign a tad sooner than the cement truck, if I’m driving that Focus I’m stopping and waiting for the cement truck to do its thing. Imagine what would happen if that Ford Focus collided with the cement truck. It would be blown to smithereens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SxbciEHF6ZI/AAAAAAAAADA/MSHXDOrorTE/s1600-h/Road+Rules.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SxbciEHF6ZI/AAAAAAAAADA/MSHXDOrorTE/s320/Road+Rules.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410754480109382034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When first arriving to campus and with these guidelines in mind, I was really surprised by the confidence in some pedestrians when crossing the street. It seemed like they would walk out there blindly and not even care (or notice) I was coming directly at them at blazing speed. It wasn’t until I was one of them that I realized that pedestrians don’t possess any amount of extraordinary confidence, they just simply are too busy fiddling with their iPods or cell phones to pay attention to oncoming traffic. Now I’m just as attached to my phone as the next guy, but when it’s a matter of life or death, I can put the phone down and watch out for the crazy lunatics on the road (like myself)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty common knowledge, (Or so I think) that the average pedestrian would not be able to withstand being run down by a automobile. To illustrate, I have drawn out a pyramid of my ranking system. As you can see, the vehicles closer to the top rule the road, and the ones below have less and less power until you get to the cyclists. I think I speak for everybody when I say cyclists are annoying and the worst way to travel. Who wants to see skin tight body suits and hand signals going painfully slow down the road in front of you? Not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/Sxbcyovt1rI/AAAAAAAAADI/OX_LsbHtYNs/s1600-h/Echelon+of+Vehicles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/Sxbcyovt1rI/AAAAAAAAADI/OX_LsbHtYNs/s320/Echelon+of+Vehicles.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410754764821354162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weekly Tylerisms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a rather large man eating at McDonald’s the other day. He ate a Big Mac in under ninety seconds and with three bites. I haven’t seen anything that impressive since that squirrel using the crosswalk to cross the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t normally watch much TV besides Sports Center, but Ellen DeGeneres dancing through the introduction on her show is the greatest thing on TV…ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If 50 cent married a girl named Penny and if they ever had twins, he should name them nickel and dime. That would make their whole family worth 66 cents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to make a cell phone company called “Searching for Network.” We’ll be everywhere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shout out to hot girls with no personality. They make my world complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                            ***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone makes a video like &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmrvVQFGFlY"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt;, of the Clemson game, let me know.  I want the inspirational music, the images of us suffering defeat, then the amazing comeback. Its got to have all the parts for me to like it though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-1421417887185067653?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/1421417887185067653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/dirty-laundry-9.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1421417887185067653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1421417887185067653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/12/dirty-laundry-9.html' title='Dirty Laundry 9'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SxbciEHF6ZI/AAAAAAAAADA/MSHXDOrorTE/s72-c/Road+Rules.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-2960089446380487725</id><published>2009-11-30T13:57:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T11:49:59.895-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pregaming</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Authors note: Read with confidence and the realization that everybody goes through what I am talking about. Thanks&lt;br /&gt;-Tyler&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I haven’t posted in awhile, I was abducted by aliens, among other things. (The space kind not the yard keeping kind)  Being abducted by extraterrestrials is really not all that its hyped up to be.  When I was young, I dreamed of being contacted by outside life and I was the kid who bridged the communication gap between them and earth.  In my dream I would grow up and be one of the Men in Black and one of the pioneers who helped aliens live peacefully on earth.  Aside from the anal probing and series of tests of my abduction, I had a realization that I wanted to share with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I’ve been doing some thinking as how I could better prepare myself for competition during games.  Athletes at all levels are constantly trying to find new ways or methods that are ideal for them to have a better advantage in their respective sport.  With that said what works for one competitor might not work for another.  Some people like to listen to music in headphones that cost as much as four Jay-Z concerts and that are so loud it frustratingly disturbs the people around them.  Some like to keep it simple and take naps before a game.  I like neither of those but, what you’re about to read might change your future so listen closely.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a ground-breaking discovery by none other than yours truly, I have found what every athlete MUST do before a game if they want a chance to be successful.  In other words, every athlete has this certain pregame ritual in common and I’m 99.9% sure of it. (I’m never 100% sure about anything but if I were about one thing it would be this)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The habitual practice I am talking about is known of course, as the pregame shit.  To me, on a level of importance in American sports, I would put my alone time on the crapper ahead of the coach’s pep talk and less important than observing the National Anthem.  Let’s face it; first, nothing is more important than taking the time to honor our country.  That’s a given.  Secondly, if I have to drop a bomb during the coach’s pep talk I won’t be very focused on the game plan anyway and therefore unprepared for the game at hand. (Can you imagine having to the urge to go during the actual game?  Has that actually happened to anyone?  I wouldn’t know but it gives me the goose bumps just thinking about it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In what is a natural bodily function all humans share, dropping a deuce is a special occasion felt my most once a day.  (Twice if you’re lucky and thrice if you possess some sort of health problem nobody wants to hear about)  Something about releasing those toxins from your body makes you feel and play better than if you were to choose the alternative route.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: why do women frown upon talking about their bodily functions?  It’s like its some taboo subject no woman would dare to bring up.  Sure, passing gas at an inappropriate moment is sometimes embarrassing, but why?  It usually takes a lot more than farting to ruffle my feathers and I don’t understand why this happens to people.  I think we should be celebrating our impressive farts, blockbuster craps, and heroic belches because that means we are in fact healthy human beings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of our bodies, something else weird has happened lately.  Now I don’t know if the rest of the world has heard of in-grown hairs, but I certainly have and I have one directly on the tip of my nose.  Oh my gosh I can’t begin to describe the pain that I am going through right now every time I sneeze, pick my nose, or wrinkle my face it hurts like all hell.&lt;br /&gt;I have an unusual habit of naming my more pronounced zits like the system of naming hurricanes the weather people have.  I start with the beginning of the alphabet and come up with names alphabetically and continue the cycle.  I started with the letter A (Abe, this little booger on my upper lip, caused an explosion of epic proportions meaning it left some on the bathroom mirror) and I am now on the letter R and how coincidently that this pimple leaves me looking like Rudolph the Red Nosed-Reindeer just in time for Christmas. There’s nothing like Christmas spirit than to name a big fat pimple on the tip of your nose after Santa’s most trusty reindeer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please comment, leave suggestions, constructive criticism, and other helpful tips you can add.  Anything would be appreciated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GxxsP7VWVN8"&gt;"Why Girls Don't Fart."&lt;/a&gt; It makes total sense now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-TG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-2960089446380487725?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/2960089446380487725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/pregaming.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2960089446380487725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/2960089446380487725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/pregaming.html' title='Pregaming'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-776848702491632736</id><published>2009-11-30T11:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T11:47:57.120-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 8</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Dear men who are embarrassing the rest of us,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Public Service Announcement is directly referring to you.  You know who you are.  In an effort to ensure your protection and save you from humiliation and harm, please be advised by the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gentlemen, I know its cold out but let’s keep the man scarves to a minimum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s for your own good.  You can thank me later.&lt;br /&gt;-Tyler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the most annoying things ever is websites that automatically start playing music or video when you go to them.  On occasion, it startles me so much and I get so pissed off it causes me to blog about it. (Go figure)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who are students, I hope you know what I’m talking about.  What is with it with the chunks of hair stuck in the chairs at desks?  Some chairs have bolts that go through the back of chairs that are normally found in classrooms, and usually these things are death traps for women with long hair.  I just walked into my class and almost leaned back on a chunk of some poor girl’s hair that was left behind.  Ladies, be on the watch out for these. (This is my attempt for my good deed of the day.  My only hope is that if someone reads this, the next time when they sit down at one of these desks, they will check before they sit.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a shout out to those ignorant people who when an elevator door opens up, they walk straight in without letting those already onboard the claustrophobic box out first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I want to give a shout out to women with body hair in all the wrong places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: Those Mexicans with the cards on the Vegas Strip can flip, flick, shuffle, and deal with the best of them, right?  So would there supremacy be a blackjack dealer?  Is that how all blackjack dealers start out, dealing on the street working towards a promotion to a casino?  I’m just wondering)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Christmas fast approaching, I was pondering what I would get my girl for Christmas.  I had a lot of good ideas, but kept coming back to &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kmrFBnrkqg"&gt;this one.&lt;/a&gt;  Do you think this would be sending the wrong message?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-776848702491632736?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/776848702491632736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/dirty-laundry-8.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/776848702491632736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/776848702491632736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/dirty-laundry-8.html' title='Dirty Laundry 8'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-8059845141519994514</id><published>2009-11-23T22:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T15:35:24.971-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Best Asian In 2012</title><content type='html'>Its Thanksgiving break and all 41,000 students have left the Champaign-Urbana area.  Well besides the athletic teams that are mid-season and a whole lot of Asians.  FACT: 12% of our student population is Asian.  (my)OPINION: That’s a lot of freaking Asians, 4,920 to be exact.  It got to the point where I will randomly go up to foreigners and ask where they’re from pretending to actually care.  My following question would go something along the lines of, “So how does a person from _____ just look on a map and say I want to go to the University of Illinois in Champaign, Illinois?”  The usual responses include, from what I can understand from their broken English and thick accents are their parents sent them away to school or something about the Engineering program here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am then left with a question I ask myself.  What’s more popular, the engineering program at Illinois or the Illinois basketball program?  It seems like the only difference I have between these people (beside the obvious bodily differences) is that I came here because of the basketball program and they came here because of the engineering program.  They heard about their respective school from on the other side of the world as I was a three hour drive away.  To answer the question, I whipped out my phone and asked my best friend which one was more popular.  Google, who by the way is my best friend, responded decisively with the basketball team.  Want to know how I asked him?  I typed in “University of Illinois” and its suggestions said basketball before anything to do with engineering.  Fail proof way if you ask me.  My friend Google has all the answers and if all else fails will be the best man at my wedding. (Hopefully not because his best man speech could be just a regurgitation of my not-so-innocent internet browsing history and nobody would want that.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we as students are on break the school closes the freshmen dorms down in which we live.  But since we as athletes are in mid-season form and have practice every day we don’t have the luxury to go home like everyone else.  That’s when they put us freshmen in the nicest hotel in the city and give us something we as student-athletes haven’t seen since we’ve been home and in high school: cold hard cash.  Per diem is like an allowance included in our scholarship which we get money for our meals that we’ve missed because of various team activities.  (Cafeteria being closed, after a game, etc.)  You should have seen the look on my face when I received my first per diem money after our first game.  I thought someone was playing a joke on me as I made sure the bills I had just obtained from my athletic trainer were of legal tender. (Side note: tender is a funny word to say)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also on holiday breaks like these, coach tries to keep us occupied by arranging team dinners and bonding activities.  It is these activities where I learn so much about my teammates besides basketball.  Right now I am teaching my African-American teammates the proper time to use the words “is” and “are” in the correct context.  For example, one teammate asked “So when is we goin’ to that movie?”  I calmly corrected him “So guys, when are we going to that movie?”  Sometimes it’s a grueling process but I have confidence in them as they are making progress.  In contrast, my African-American teammates are teaching me the difference in all the words that you can describe a good-looking woman.  For instance, my teammates would say, “Damn, that girl is coooold!  Look how she workin it! ” While I would say, “Hey guys, look at that girl, she is HOTT, am I right?”  Those along with fine, bad, and niiiiice are also words to describe a woman.  I think it's funny how such contrasting words can mean the same thing in this situation. (hot/cold, nice/bad)  Whatever happened to the words gorgeous, beautiful, or even sexy when describing a young lady?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my lack of cultural knowledge, sometimes my teammates get annoyed of my questions but I continue to ask anyway.  I asked Dominique the other day if people keep the sticker on their hats because someday they are going to return it, or because they now always know the place to look if they forget how big their head is.  He couldn’t answer the question and I can't blame him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our most recent team bonding activity, Coach Weber had us all go to a movie.  We had the choice between witnessing the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKbEI8pDz0A"&gt;end of the world 2012&lt;/a&gt;, or the most inspirational movie in theatres, &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=khtBvQdxta4"&gt;Blindside&lt;/a&gt;.  Obviously, being the rebel that I am I chose the viewing of the end of world. (Give me action, baby)  After viewing the movie, I have to say that along with the end of the world, we will also have terrible movies and awful acting in the year 2012.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a response to my text message containing those exact words, Mike Davis and Bill Cole responded with “haha yeah the graphics are crazy but this whole storyline for the movie is whack as hell.”  “LOL they were just making out while the ship was about to sink.”  Mike was right, the graphics were crazy good, but as the main characters were franticly driving through the apocalypse, they might as well been dubbed the luckiest family on earth.  In the video game like scene, roads were splitting and buildings were falling but never on them.  It was always two seconds behind them or in enough time in front of them so they can make some miraculous maneuver to stay alive and on course.  Kind of like a James Bond scene where Bond would run across a battlefield of airborne bullets and never get nicked once.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not looking ahead or anything, but we leave for Vegas as a team very early in the morning on Wednesday.  I’m really looking forward to my first road trip and hopefully we can behave ourselves enough in Sin City to get a couple of victories.  Until next time,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-8059845141519994514?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/8059845141519994514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-best-asian-in-2012.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/8059845141519994514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/8059845141519994514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-best-asian-in-2012.html' title='My Best Asian In 2012'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-3043384529575281338</id><published>2009-11-22T17:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T12:22:38.511-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 7</title><content type='html'>Twlight makes them girls go crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who talk like their on twitter with their facebook status’ are lame. I’m just saying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyonce you will have your time to shine but I’m letting Taylor Swiftly take this one back. (Word play fun with words)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there anything more annoying than when as I click the button to unlock my car and at the exact time someone pulls the door handle to cause the door to not actually unlock?  Then you do it again like three more times.  This really ticks me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it’s hilarious when little kids speak in Spanish.  It’s something about how this kid is 5 and he’s speaking in a language I don’t understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had enough money to buy an exotic island, but had a cheetah to raise as well, who’d still come with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My J is so sick…they call it Twine flu. (Wud up)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite restaurants around town is Subway.  On my most recent trip to Subway I overheard one of the most awkward and coolest conversations between employee and customer you could ever possibly witness.  I want to take this time to thank God for putting me in this situation at a third person point of view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was enjoying my specialty sandwich, another customer begins to order his foot long meatball sub on wheat.  Without missing a beat the cute, female Subway employee said “What would you like on your balls?”  It probably would have gone unnoticed if I hadn’t completely fell out of my chair spitting out my delicious sandwich in the process of laughter.  These events led to very weird exchanging of words between the two and I was trying to give myself the Heimlich in the background. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I recovered from my choking frenzy, I had to take a moment and reminisce about the events that had just transpired.  The good thing is I will never forget the encounter I just witnessed but the bad thing was nobody was there in person to see it with me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re probably thinking that was not the least bit funny Tyler I expected better (Don’t you love how I can read your thoughts) but I am telling you right now, the words you just read cannot do what actually happened justice.  Maybe it’s my limited vocabulary or amateur story-telling skills, whatever it was I guess you just had to have been there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s a hurricane coming and your driving you car past a bus stop.  At that bus stop you see a very sick old lady, your best friend that saved your life once, and the girl of your dreams but you only have room in your car for one, what do you do?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My answer is to get out the car, give the keys to your best friend, put the old lady in your car and stay at the bus stop with the girl of your dreams.  Nothings supposed to go wrong if your with the girl of your dreams, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KkI9axajmT8"&gt;Jared Allen just became one of my favorite NFL players.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r1xuL9GNquY"&gt;He is the luckiest man on earth.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote of the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To live in the world without becoming aware of the meaning of the world is like wandering about in a great library without touching the books."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-3043384529575281338?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/3043384529575281338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/dirty-laundry-7.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3043384529575281338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3043384529575281338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/dirty-laundry-7.html' title='Dirty Laundry 7'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-1629784954144967891</id><published>2009-11-21T00:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T00:39:06.774-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Biggest Holiday Of The Year</title><content type='html'>I never know what to do when I’m home.  I eat.  I sleep.  I write but sometimes I find myself trapped in the vacant wasteland of boredom.  I say to myself why not blog and that’s exactly what I’m doing now.  Let me paint you a picture.  I’m alone, in my socks and boxers, sitting on my bed, with the TV on.  Well actually I’m not alone as I have Danny Glover on my TV in one of the lethal weapons movies.  Danny Glover movies are awesome, no if ands or buts about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this don’t have sh*t to do with sh*t, but I might as well share a story with you.  Read it and I hope you don’t like it because if you don’t you just wasted moments of your life you will never get back because of me. HA.  Wasting your time, finding someone to do my laundry, and to escape the (arm)pits of larger-than-life dullness are the reasons why I started blogging in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Story time.  Take a deep breath.  Gain composure of yourself.  Are you ready?  Today is the Friday before Thanksgiving break and that means a couple of things.  First off no school for a week and that is always fantastic news.  Second, we are exactly one week (seven days) away from Black Friday, which in my opinion is the biggest holiday of the year.  Black Friday is bigger than black history month, Christmas AND Christmas Eve, and it’s bigger than even America’s birthday.  You must be thinking wow Tyler that’s a pretty epic holiday.  And you are absolutely correct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black Friday is the day where shopaholics lose control of who they are as human beings.  In a more figurative sense, Black Friday is where most stores offer the most absurd and incredible deals and discounts the day after Thanksgiving.  It is the single biggest shopping day of the year.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With these stores offering such blockbuster deals, they usually run out of the advertised product which leads to mad dashes and thousands of people to the stores at ridiculous times during the night.  So what happens is these crazy people will camp out in front of the store the night of Thanksgiving and wait in line till the morning when the store opens to be first in line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me break it down for all of you basic people still on a KinderCare reading level still.  Let’s say Best Buy is offering a 52’’ plasma TV for $350.00 dollars.  That’s an amazing deal, right?  Well Best Buy will only have 3 of these TV’s in stock on Black Friday so you have to get in line outside the store before it opens to have a chance to get one.  Some people, who really want their TV’s, get there around 7 on Thanksgiving night and actually bring tents and sleeping bags and sleep outside the door to be first in line.  Shout out to Hooked On Phonics if you still don’t understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Created a picture for those illiterate ones. (My first go around with Microsoft Paint.  Don’t call me Perez Hilton or I will slap you in the face.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SweKPlC0u6I/AAAAAAAAAC4/ByUAefvDQHo/s1600/Black+Friday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 255px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SweKPlC0u6I/AAAAAAAAAC4/ByUAefvDQHo/s400/Black+Friday.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406441877928197026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so in with the newspaper on Thanksgiving night comes hundreds of ads from every store you can dream of advertising their products that are at an enormously reduced price.  Shopaholic would never be used to describe me but on this particular day, I’m like Dora the Explorer skimming the ads and hunting for the best deals.  Usually by the time its dinner time on Thanksgiving, I have my intentions mapped out and what merchandise I will be purchasing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night, a couple years ago, I found an ad offering a very respectable laptop at a very consumer friendly price.  As my mom told me about what I have just explained to you, you better believe I went down to Office Depot at around 8 o’clock on Thanksgiving night to claim my computer.  I packed all the essentials of a Black Friday excursion, hat, gloves, sleeping bag, extra blankets, hot cocoa, and my trusty iPod.  To my surprise, I wasn’t the first in line but it didn’t damper my hopes.  Those in front of me were a group of dare-devil women and what appeared to be an Eskimo who was obviously neighbors with Santa.  This mammoth of a man was sitting Indian style eating an ice cream cone in shorts singing tribal songs in an unknown language.  (True Story)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never could have expected what happened next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t understand how I had the guts to face the brutal cold that night but I’m glad I did.  I haven’t had more fun in one night since that night.  Throughout the hours of darkness, crowds of people started arriving and it was easy to see I was the inexperienced one here even though I had spot number six in line.  I had to prove my worth among shopping’s elite.  Harder than any competition I’ve ever been in, I had to compete for respect among the most experienced shoppers West St. Louis had to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I go any further I should mention that a place near my home in St. Louis, has what I believe is the biggest strip mall in America. (Again, my lack of basic shopping knowledge puts me at a disadvantage already) It stretches almost three miles and has every store you can think of.  Since most of the bigger stores drew crowds, the number of people that arrived got to be pretty staggering.  Best Buy, Target, Office Depot, Circuit City, Wal-Mart, Radio Shack, and many more.  The crowd was so big and the weather was so cold, people started driving up and down the strip mall selling coffee or hot chocolate and were making a killing.  To those who were doing this I applaud you, I should have thought of that.  I would place them in the businessmen elite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the sheer number of people there and a whole parking lot of space (you could leave your spot in line if you left your sleeping bag/lawn chair there.  Those were the rules.  It was also in the rules that I could physically harm anyone who tried to pull a cutsy through the line.  Some lady did just that and the cops were called and hell got even hotter because of it.  Seriously, America? Fighting over places in line?) But anyway with the number of people it wasn’t hard to get a game of two-hand-touch football going.  I called some of my buddies who were looking for an excuse to get away from after Thanksgiving dinner activities at their own homes and they came down and we had a great time.  Afterwards we’d walk up and down the lines of different stores looking at other crazies/weirdos just like me, all eagerly waiting for the store to open.  Some had built up tents and somehow hooked up TV’s inside with Xbox’s and Playstation’s.  It was crazy but these allowed me to make a name for myself within the best of the best in St. Louis shopping.  Now the early bird shopping club recognizes my HALO talents and two-handed-touch football skills with a new level of respect.  Hey NFL, can I play quarterback on Sunday? (Ego check)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the night wore on, the weather become colder, and I grew tired, I got restless and caught as much shut eye as possible in the freezing cold when I was awoken abruptly by a stir amongst the multitude of people.  The stores didn’t apparently agree with my sleep schedule and started passing out vouchers for each product you wanted.  I guess this proved effective and was done so, so there wasn’t a mad dash at the door.  Once you got the voucher, they would reserve your product of choice until ten that morning.  What really sucked was the two kids in line right behind me wanted laptops as well.  The store had six vouchers for laptops (one voucher per person) and I received the 5th one.  Those poor kids who waited all night now had to make a decision as to which one of them was going to get the computer for school.  I thought their predicament was pretty humorous and I let them know about every 15 minutes for the next 2 hours before the store actually opened.  I tried to lighten the mood by telling them about all the people who were behind them dumb enough to think they were going to get one as well but they were in heated arguments and I didn’t bother them again. (Never found out how they decided as once the store opened it was Hurricane Katrina all over again)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When those doors opened it was like the movie Jumonji or the Lion King all over again.  (When you were little, who was a little spooked when they watched Jumonji? I was…) Once inside the store it was pure madness with people thinking they were slick by grabbing things just so other people couldn’t have them.  What is it with the greedy people of the world?  Since I had the voucher and I was 6th in line, I could take my precious time as I looked for an external hard drive to go along with my computer.  I found the hard drives and grabbed two just in case. (Good gift idea, right? Haha not what I was thinking) I went to the counter and checked out and paid for my laptop and one external hard drive.  Just as had expected, when I went back to where the hard drives were at, they were all gone.  I looked around at the vultures surrounding me disappointed there were no hard drives.  I tried to slyly put it on the shelf and I had not even released the box when someone grabbed it from me and took off like he stole it.  I contemplated making a scene and yelling he stole it from me, (I was running low on sleep and getting annoyed by all these damn people) but decided against it and went home to try out my new computer. (Turned out to be an excellent purchase as I still have this computer it is the one I am typing on right now.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after all this, I just wanted to tell you I am bummed out I won’t be able to partake in this epic yearly event this season.  Rumor has it that the basketball team here at Illinois doesn’t care about Thanksgiving as they are shipping us out to Las Vegas next week for a tournament.  Let me drop some math on you.  illogical judgment + lack of common sense = Las Vegas.  If this is true what does, illogical judgment + lack of common sense + Las Vegas =? (I hope two incredibly decisive wins for the Orange and Blue)  Other than that, I will be laying low in Champaign as the rest of society has left campus town to spend the holiday at home.  Laying low = lots of blogging (based on probability and odds) so be prepared to be entertained.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-1629784954144967891?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/1629784954144967891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-never-know-what-to-do-when-im-home.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1629784954144967891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1629784954144967891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-never-know-what-to-do-when-im-home.html' title='Biggest Holiday Of The Year'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SweKPlC0u6I/AAAAAAAAAC4/ByUAefvDQHo/s72-c/Black+Friday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-3178717441163352961</id><published>2009-11-19T21:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T00:31:24.378-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Old Man Stopped Snoring A Long Time Ago</title><content type='html'>All this rain that’s hydrating Champaign lately has gotten me into a huge fight with Mother Nature.  I hope she reads this and understands why I'm so pissed.  I wake up and look outside and see what could be portrayed as a gorgeous day where the sun is gleaming and temperature is serene, but then, like she had planned it along, after everyone left without their rain essentials (especially those who walked to class without a hood, umbrella, rain boots, or jacket) Mother Nature laughs in our face and playfully watches while she makes it rain.  Her ability to make it rain is kind of like how I can make it rain on a basketball court at any given time.  The only difference would be the amount of moisture in our “Making It Rain” demonstrations.  Mine would just be the drops of condensation on her enormous irrigation system that waters the entire world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, most people who actually enjoy the rain are usually senior citizens or people who don’t have anything important to go to on that particular day.  When you have a hectic schedule like mine, staying in all day is absolutely not an option.  It’s not hard to point out the most common excuses of why most people dislike the rain.  I’m going to try and point out a few obscure ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. First and foremost, I cannot stand driving in the rain.  It is impossible to keep a clean car through a rainy day, and I’m talking about just the interior.  Doesn’t it seem like that after the one day you get the free time to completely detail every aspect of your car, it just pours and pours the next day?  I expect the outside to get dirty but what I don’t understand is how the inside gets dirty before I even drive it if it’s been raining.  I could have just spent two hours cleaning the interior of my car, have it rain overnight, and then get into my car the next morning and have it feel dirty again. Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Another thing about vehicles and rain is the windshield wipers.  I bought a new car in May of 2008 and it only took only three months for the windshield wipers to do what I call an unsatisfactory job.  I hate when the wipers do that thing where they jump across your shield of wind several times and leave blotches of water and make a noise that makes you want to punch something.  Then once the wipers calm down, they still do a crappy job and leave streaks of water which make driving, especially at night very difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a. AND then, you know how your windshield wipers have like 3 different speeds in which they operate?  One will wipe every ten seconds, the next every 4 seconds, then once every second?  I hate when the rain is coming down at a speed where the first level of wiping is too slow and the second level of wiping is too fast.  I’m I the only one that gets pissed off when the wipers wipe without in rain needed to be wipe?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I found this next thing to be quite comical even though I don’t really have to worry about it, but a friend who lives in my dorm is always complaining about how she hates the rain because it ruins her hair for the day. (I can’t argue with it because she looks absolutely hilarious when she comes back after walking to class in the rain.  Is it shameful for me that I never let her know that I would be more than willing to give her a ride to class on these rainy days?  In the case of my personal entertainment, I think not.) I’ve been keeping a tab of the constant fights between the rain and Megan’s hair and so far the rain is undefeated with 8 wins.  I, on the other hand don’t really care about this because I never do anything with my hair anyway.  Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning I will just stick my head in the shower to rid myself of bed head, then go.  Don’t judge because it works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Lastly, I hate the rain because of how dumb I feel when I hold my umbrella.  Even though I’d much rather be dry and look goofy going to class than be wet in class I still feel awkward.  I don’t know what it is because I look at all the Asians holding their umbrellas and they don’t look anything out of the ordinary.  (The number of Asians on this campus is staggering)  Maybe it’s the persistent feeling that I’m too tall to hold an umbrella that gets me apprehensive when walking with one.  One time I was walking, minding my own business when I see up ahead of me poking out of the colorful sea of umbrellas a larger one, standing a solid two feet taller than the rest.  As I walked towards the oncoming umbrellaed Mike Davis, the only thing we could mutter in this embarrassing moment was a slight head shake and a chuckle at ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prior to writing this post, I never realized that your WINDSHIELD actually protects you from the wind and is directly stated in the name of the object.  Shield of Wind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-3178717441163352961?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/3178717441163352961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/old-man-stopped-snoring-long-time-ago.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3178717441163352961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3178717441163352961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/old-man-stopped-snoring-long-time-ago.html' title='The Old Man Stopped Snoring A Long Time Ago'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-8350507576519031253</id><published>2009-11-17T13:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T13:27:28.196-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 6</title><content type='html'>She looks good but she’s a Cubs fan, it wouldn’t work out. (Go Cards!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks good but when the extensions come off, the contacts come out, and the implants go bad...we'll see how she looks then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When using ketchup what’s more annoying?  Opening individual packets or opening a brand new glass bottle?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine if sharks could walk on land…..scary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shout out to those people making money, legally and illegally but it is never okay, for whatever reason to post pictures of yourself holding your money on the internet.  It makes you look like a tool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of pictures on the internet, for those of you who take pictures of yourself in the mirror and upload them to the internet, I despise you.&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you that haven't been exposed to his way of comedy, I present to you, &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obIGsb-IZMo"&gt;Bo Burnham&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote of the day&lt;br /&gt;"If what you did yesterday still looks big to you, you haven't done much today."&lt;br /&gt;-Coach K&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-8350507576519031253?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/8350507576519031253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/dirty-laundry-6.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/8350507576519031253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/8350507576519031253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/dirty-laundry-6.html' title='Dirty Laundry 6'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-72054472496356055</id><published>2009-11-15T22:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T16:23:04.559-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Basketball is Just A Hobby</title><content type='html'>Procrastination is one of the better talents I posses, along with being able to pull out wedgies without anyone noticing and cooking up the meanest peanut butter and jelly sandwich this side of the Mississippi.  It’s easy to find excuses to not do something you’re supposed to do.  Like right now, right this very second on this rainy Sunday night, I have two papers due by noon tomorrow.  I had planned on doing them earlier in the week, but one thing led to another and here we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today after practice, (when I was going to do my homework) my wonderful teammate Mike Davis asked for volunteers to go to Champaign’s finest tennis center to help him out with some sort of group project he was doing for class.  As I shyly hid behind two other players and avoided direct eye contact in hopes of not having to go, I overheard that I had no choice in the matter as I was already volunteered for and would be going rather I liked it or not. (The woes of being a freshman, and oh yea thanks Mike)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tennis sort of runs in the Griffey family, but when I say sort of I don’t mean regular tennis.  Griffey’s are bred to play one game, and that is table tennis. No, not ping-pong, table tennis.  When compared to hoops, basketball is just a hobby; table tennis is my real sport.  Okay, time for a recapitulation. (Did you know recap is abbreviated for recapitulation?  Why we don’t use the real word is beyond me because that word is awesome) Back to the recap, yes, I just stated that basketball is just a hobby and table tennis is a real sport and yes table tennis is a SPORT, it’s in the Olympics, and yes I will call you out if you call it ping-pong rather table tennis.  Digest that for a second, let it soak in….okay now continue reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite being infuriated with rage about going to this thing, I kept my composure and showed up with a playful attitude and a smile on my face, after all, tennis could provide me with a great chance to work on my English accent and grunting skills.  (As well as my serve and feeble attempt at a backhand)  After practice, I went home and decided I was going to make the most out of this experience to help the kids we were supposed to be teaching or if not to have fun.  And that’s just what I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Mike’s words, I was under the impression I would be playing some tennis with little kids and their parents, making sort of a “public appearance” at their camp, if you will.  When I stepped onto the court, I had no idea that the girl’s tennis team was part of this camp as well, but I didn’t think it’d be a big deal as they were just girls and I could probably hold my own against them.  Boy was I wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing now that I could not compete with these collegiate athletes in their designated sport, even if they were female, I moved on to watching and really picked up on some things during this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now understand why a lot of people make fun of this sport.  It’s really not that hard to.  I also now know that grunting is not an essential skill in the game of tennis.  This disappointed me a little bit because my philosophy is if it’s good enough for the professionals, then it’s good enough for me but this was not the mindset that these tennis phenoms had.  I also found out it is important to have the proper outfit when playing tennis.  I felt left out when I realized if I wanted to be good I’d need long, curly hair to go along with my headband, a pair of dingy under armor knee pads, and shorts at least 3 sizes too small.  I guess the grunting will be an added bonus, maybe something that separate’s me from the pack if I ever decided to pursue a career in tennis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I watched the rest of the time, I looked for other ways to be productive and help my teammate out in any way I could.  What happened next changed the game of tennis for me forever.  You know those ball-picker-upper things in tennis where if you lift the object in question up, and press down on a tennis ball on the ground, it pushes itself though and into the bucket?  Yea, that’s the coolest invention EVER.  Tennis is now a legit sport to because of this object and I wish I would have found out about that sooner because now I would never think about making fun of those ball boys/girls (I’m not sexist) that run across the court and gather the balls.  If they get to use that machine then it’s totally worth running across the court all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the day involved a lot of using that machine, me chatting up the future Andy Roddick, (seriously, this kid was that good) and me giving nicknames to all the kids.  This just to shows that you can learn something new every single day.  Try to make the best out of situations and have fun in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-72054472496356055?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/72054472496356055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/basketball-is-just-hobby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/72054472496356055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/72054472496356055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/basketball-is-just-hobby.html' title='Basketball is Just A Hobby'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-4019260181321365763</id><published>2009-11-14T19:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T19:05:01.892-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 5</title><content type='html'>1. Isn’t take your daughter to work day sexist? Why not take your kid to work day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Can any good come from holding a woman’s purse? Rhetorical question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Even though it looks really cool in the movies, getting a drink thrown in your face is not as fun as it sounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I cannot stress enough how much I hate roman numerals. They are the reason I can’t remember who played in what Super Bowl. Why did the National Football League decide to use roman numerals to distinguish between Super Bowls anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Why is it that when loading something on my computer, it always jumps to 99% then stops for like 13 minutes for moving that one more percent over? That really bursts my bubble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKZEP-xruH4"&gt;Did You Know&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;^^^Every time I watch that I get chills. Can you imagine?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-4019260181321365763?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/4019260181321365763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/dirty-laundry-5.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4019260181321365763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4019260181321365763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/dirty-laundry-5.html' title='Dirty Laundry 5'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-5085672688099468492</id><published>2009-11-14T11:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T11:36:06.752-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stick To Your Strengths</title><content type='html'>I’m not the sexiest man on earth nor do I try to be but when it comes to impressing the ladies, I stick to my strengths. I spend hardly any time in front of the mirror, and the last time I put gel in my hair tucking the front of your shirt into your pants was cool. (Also gelling your bangs straight up pointing at the sky was popular at the time. I tried this once, and it’s safe to say I will never try it again.) I own only 9 different shirts I can wear out and comparing that to my peer’s collection is desperately low. (Combine that with my lack of laundry skills and unparalleled laziness and you have a recipe for disaster.) My sneaker game is virtually non-existent and my color-coding dress-wear skills are sub par at best. But, for what I lack in those topics mentioned above I make up for in my bodily aroma. It’s my go to move every time I step out at night and the only thing I’ve got working for me. I take the utmost pride in the way my special mixture of fragrances tickles the olfactories of all who take notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What most people don’t realize is that you can mix and match different colognes, fragrances, and deodorants to create that unique smell that people know is you. Ladies love it, and men want it. (Pause) I get asked all the time, “Tyler, how do you do it? What do you use?” I simply respond with a “haha, please” and look the other way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you're probably wondering if I'm going to reveal my secret and the fact of the matter is if I gave up my secret, all you guys would be stealing the only thing that I have working for me, and that cannot happen.  Sorry guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-5085672688099468492?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/5085672688099468492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/stick-to-your-strengths.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5085672688099468492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5085672688099468492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/stick-to-your-strengths.html' title='Stick To Your Strengths'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-6623560727583438410</id><published>2009-11-11T21:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T10:35:49.850-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Wonderland</title><content type='html'>All this cold weather has reminded me of some of the reasons why I don’t like winter.  This is one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hated snow days.  I hated the idea of them.  My school almost never got them off.  The weatherman could be predicting some epic clash of sleet, rain, ice, 12 feet of snow, and a hurricane that would break all laws of basic atmospheric science and we’d still not get off school.  I’d wake up a little earlier than usual to check the school closings, wait for the entire list of schools to go through to get to the R’s (You know how they show like two schools at a time in alphabetical order.  My school district was Rockwood.) and then when they got there, my school wasn’t on it but I had just wasted time looking at every other school in the city that had gotten off.  So basically I got to sit there and think about all my friends from other districts playing video games all day or building snowmen (I can build a mean snowman) while I waited in agonizing anticipation only to be immensely letdown.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note: I hate when it snows and its not the sticky kind of snow that allows you to have snowball fights or build snowmen. Okay, back to the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second reason why I hate snow days is because there was another school district with almost the same name as mine. (As mentioned before, mine was Rockwood and the other was Richwoods)  Richwoods would call off school if the temperature was hovering around 32 degrees with a chance of precipitation.  I mean they always got off.  They got off school sometimes and the weatherman would be wrong and it’d be sunny the next day.  This is bad because I would be there patiently waiting as the list of schools slowly went by.  I’d get more and more excited as it came closer to the R words.  Then as if a miracle had just occurred in front of my eyes, I’d glance and see an R with “WOOD” right after it and I’d jump up and down, do a little dance, then amidst my fit of joy I’d painstakingly realize my mistake. (Only a mere 2 letters separate Richwoods and Rockwood, not counting the S at the end.  Screw you Richwoods School district in Missouri).  The only thing I can compare this to is like scoring a game tying basket with only a couple seconds left in the game.  Your teams hyped, everyone’s jumping up and down the crowds back into it and all you got to do is defend for 3 seconds and head to overtime.  In that three seconds they inbound the ball and make an improbable half court shot.  Trust me, I asked &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byDUCWs_Hlw"&gt;Brandon Paul. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make matters worse, when in fact school did get called off, my school would wait to the last possible second to call it off.  They’d make everyone get up, check the TV or computer (or radio if you’re into that type of thing) and see if school is cancelled for the day.  If you’re like me, I have trouble sleeping anyway and once I’m up I’m up.  So that left me in the situation where I was already up, going back to sleep was not an option, its 7am and I have absolutely nothing to do all day.  Let’s not kid ourselves here, when did anyone actually have something to do on a snow day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check back daily for more posts.  Lately I’ve been good about posting at least something every day.  Eventually I’ll run out of something to say but who cares, I’ll worry about that when the time comes.  Don't forget to comment, send e-mails, or leave suggestions on my facebook page.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-6623560727583438410?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/6623560727583438410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/oh-weather-outside-is-frightful.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6623560727583438410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6623560727583438410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/oh-weather-outside-is-frightful.html' title='Winter Wonderland'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-586956826459766737</id><published>2009-11-11T13:14:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T11:59:51.453-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 4</title><content type='html'>1. You know you really can’t spell when Microsoft Office doesn’t even know what you’re trying to spell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Would you like to know the date of your death beforehand?  I don’t think I would because if I found out I would live my life differently and I don’t want to do that.  I try to live life to the fullest no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. So I ate at Steak N Shake the other day and it was utterly delicious.  I got the double cheeseburger PLAIN, and added ketchup. (Capitalization of the word plain was necessary because in that tone is how I say it every time I order a hamburger anywhere.  Have to put an emphasis on the PLAIN) I also got a cookies N Cream shake. (Are you hungry yet?)  But as I was waiting for my mouthwatering burger and delightful shake, I asked myself this question; what type of restaurant does Steak N Shake want to be?  It really needs to make up its mind because is it a fast food place, or a sit down restaurant?  If I could get my food through the drive-thru (why is the through in drive-thru spelled the way it is?) why would I go sit down instead?  I want some answers, especially to this question and this is the ultimate question, Is Steak N Shake more famous for their steak-burgers or their shakes?  When I think of this place I think cookies N Cream shake right away, yet the commercial directly states “Famous for steak burgers”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Grocery shopping while you’re hungry is the greatest thing in the world.  You buy all kinds of food and just go home and feast.  Grocery shopping while you’re full is the stupidest thing someone can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. At what age does a woman become a cougar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am here to introduce to you &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h05ZQ7WHw8Y&amp;NR=1&amp;feature=fvwp"&gt;the WTF blanket&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-586956826459766737?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/586956826459766737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/listen-ive-been-thinkingpt-4.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/586956826459766737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/586956826459766737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/listen-ive-been-thinkingpt-4.html' title='Dirty Laundry 4'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-5046527575930940639</id><published>2009-11-09T09:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T18:57:20.531-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 3</title><content type='html'>1. Screaming never solves anything. Neither does lying but I’d vouch for fighting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I’ve noticed that when trying to pop popcorn in the microwave, no matter the microwave settings you're always aiming to have the popcorn to start actually popping at exactly the 1:00 minute mark on the timer. Who knew cooking popcorn takes skill?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Only thing a mustache enhances is your creepiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Wearing your work shirt out at night is not okay.  Especially if the company logo is on it.  People notice.  People also notice when you’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday the next day.  They may not have seen you the day before but they still know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What’s the deal with those hot-air dryers in public bathrooms? Does anyone here actually think their hands are satisfactorily dried after they use one of those things? They state directly on them that they help the environment, don’t waste trees, save paper, blah blah blah. Wouldn’t wiping your hands on the back of your pants solve the same issue? You end up wiping your hands on your clothes anyway after using a blow-dryer. Also my time is incredibly valuable so is waiting under that dryer for an extra thirty seconds really worth completely ignoring the most effective drying method of paper towels? Are that many trees being saved if we don’t use paper towels? Can’t we just recycle all those paper towels we use? Wow, and that was all in one trip to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click on the picture for a better look.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SvOqEGXUeKI/AAAAAAAAACw/Z8Qo16dCMV8/s1600-h/americanworld.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400847365551978658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 325px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 224px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SvOqEGXUeKI/AAAAAAAAACw/Z8Qo16dCMV8/s400/americanworld.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W45DRy7M1no"&gt;And Boom Goes The Dynamite&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-5046527575930940639?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/5046527575930940639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/listen-ive-been-thinkingpt-3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5046527575930940639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5046527575930940639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/listen-ive-been-thinkingpt-3.html' title='Dirty Laundry 3'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SvOqEGXUeKI/AAAAAAAAACw/Z8Qo16dCMV8/s72-c/americanworld.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-6088052133812400642</id><published>2009-11-08T19:45:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T23:12:38.834-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Painful Habit</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I bite my nails, especially when I’m bored and tired of pretending to text on my phone because I’m bored. The other day I did that thing where I accidentally bit too much nail off and left myself with a painful situation. The nail is drastically too short for comfort and the only pain relieving solution is to keep trying to bite that nail. Well in this instance things got out of control and I bit till it bled. I kept biting at it like I could take care of the whole thing if I just bit one more time. Finally, it occurred to me that if I put a Band-Aid on it things would get better. This worked like a charm. But now, simple tasks are now difficult like reaching into the pocket of my stylish blue jeans or dunking a basketball. Who am I kidding I don't dunk and besides, real men shoot lay-ups anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from biting my nails and practicing my English accent, not a lot of entertaining stuff has been happening around my life. After my mandatory daily duties (class, practice, study hall) I'm usually so tired I just sit on the couch painstakingly immobilized. I am left with just enough energy to play Xbox or watch TV. As for video games, I'm still playing Fifa 10 almost every day. Unfortunately my internet hasn't been working so I've been sticking to sticking it to the CPU on manager mode. My team is the best club team in the world...because I cheated and put the English national team all on Manchester United. (Shh!! Don't tell anyone) Once my internet gets back up and running send me your gamertag and we'll play. Warning in advance, you're probably going to lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I've watched every episode of the CBS sitcom How I Met Your Mother. HIMYM is easily one of the funniest shows on television right now. Barney Stinson is my hero and idol. I want to be just like him!! (haha JK LOL) My other favorite TV shows are Entourage, Two and A Half Men, and from back in the day Boy Meets World.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can tell from my list of favorite TV shows, they all have a womanizer of sorts as their main characters. Barney Stinson, Vincent Chase and Charlie Harper all have the "do whatever I want and get away with it" card from seemingly unlimited sources of income and undeniable skills at picking up women. The one obviously left out is BMW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Boy Meets World, let me tell you how I judge my friends relationships. I judge them on the CAT factor. (Cory and Topanga). The more they act like them the less I hang out with them. Those cute cuddly things that couples do is better to keep within the privacy of your own home, it makes me sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a last note, I want to make it be known that I am aggressively participating in No Shave November. If you couldn't already tell my facial hair is longer than it's ever been and I'm quite proud of that fact. I'm going to let it grow out as long as possible till I can't stand it anymore or if I'm forced to by some other higher up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-6088052133812400642?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/6088052133812400642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/painful-habit.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6088052133812400642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/6088052133812400642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/painful-habit.html' title='Painful Habit'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-1502924189545978938</id><published>2009-11-07T11:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T20:42:20.063-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cheerleader Effect</title><content type='html'>This concept is simple to understand.  Don’t fall victim to the cheerleader effect.  When a group of women seems hot but only as a group, just like cheerleaders.  They seem good-looking, but take each one of them individually and you get different results. Get them away from their crowd, and they're not so good-looking (ugly).  Again, don’t fall victim to this illusion.  Observe closely before you make a move.  You have been warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TG&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I debated whether this should be effect/affect for like 15 minutes before posting.  Still not sure therefore I’m calling the effect/affect rule in English grammar the most complicated rule ever.  Any help on the correct rules of using effect/affect would be appreciated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-1502924189545978938?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/1502924189545978938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/cheerleader-effect.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1502924189545978938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/1502924189545978938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/cheerleader-effect.html' title='The Cheerleader Effect'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-4309584579717723982</id><published>2009-11-05T14:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T18:59:00.775-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 2</title><content type='html'>1. Why do bad things always happen to bad people? My advice? Don’t be bad, be good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Whose idea was it to put an 'S' in the word 'lisp'? (One sick-minded individual)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Wouldn’t it sound better if it was Kobe James and LeBron Bryant? I like that better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I just came up with a new dress style called “smart casual”. For when your looking good but not too good. This type of dress is used when your hanging out with people you already know, but your completely uninterested in meeting new people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What is the saying “balls to the wall” really implying? Think about it for a second.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A crow was sitting on a tree, doing nothing all day. A rabbit asked him, “Can I also sit like you and do nothing all day long?” The crow answered: “Sure, why not.” So, the rabbit sat on the ground below the crow, and rested.&lt;br /&gt;A fox jumped on the rabbit and ate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story: To be sitting and doing nothing, you must be sitting very high up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-4309584579717723982?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/4309584579717723982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/listen-ive-been-thinking-pt-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4309584579717723982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4309584579717723982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/listen-ive-been-thinking-pt-2.html' title='Dirty Laundry 2'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-430911794377338415</id><published>2009-11-04T14:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T14:51:50.021-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dibs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SvHpENOKlKI/AAAAAAAAACY/rfvIR0TcONc/s1600-h/travel-business-hammock-beach2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400353686671758498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 376px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SvHpENOKlKI/AAAAAAAAACY/rfvIR0TcONc/s200/travel-business-hammock-beach2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got dibs on this after the season.  Just letting everyone know. Thank you for your time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-430911794377338415?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/430911794377338415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/dibs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/430911794377338415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/430911794377338415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/dibs.html' title='Dibs.'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SvHpENOKlKI/AAAAAAAAACY/rfvIR0TcONc/s72-c/travel-business-hammock-beach2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-4330260838756216582</id><published>2009-11-03T21:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T08:51:05.335-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Greatest Gift to America since the Statue of Liberty</title><content type='html'>Those who follow me on twitter know I like to leave memos to my dear future wife. When referring to my future wife, of course I mean Ms. Emma Watson-Griffey. (I don’t believe in Hyphenated last names. But in this case, since it’s unofficial and Emma and I haven’t discussed the situation yet, I’ll leave it alone.) I’ve had a crush since the day I laid my eyes on her in that first Harry Potter movie. During that movie I gave her the appreciation every woman secretly dreams about; the outloud two syllable “damnnnnnn.” I don’t have to tell you I am envious (I don’t use the word jealous, never have never will) of that awkward, curly-headed English boy with a scar on his forehead that gets to work with her every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have yet to officially meet her, but I feel like there’s always been a connection between us. I’ve seen her movies and been to her &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emma_Watson"&gt;Wikipedia page&lt;/a&gt; (more times than I’d like to admit) so I know a lot about her. My only hope is that one day, when I do meet her; I make a jaw-dropping first impression and convince her to want to see me again. Hopefully she isn’t familiar with blogging and doesn’t read this one. I promise, when I do encounter her for the first time, I will share the incredible experience with you all through this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Reasons I like Emma Watson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. She’s an attractive young woman. I know this alone doesn’t separate her from the pack, but let me go further.&lt;br /&gt;2. She is currently getting a Brown University education. Very respectable academic institution within the United States and doubles her hotness on the point.&lt;br /&gt;3. She’s English therefore foreign. Who doesn’t like foreign girls? Am I right? Am I right?&lt;br /&gt;4. She has an English accent. I’m convinced not too many of you have a freakishly weird obsession with English accents like I do, but come on, it’s hot and you and I both know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. And finally, (this is the kicker) (The icing on the cake) (This puts her out of YOUR league) is her ability to compose magic. Simple flicks with her wand result in the most magical things. Transformations, healings, charms, spells, and curses she knows them all. Pigwarts has prepared her well for the real world.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400081894810223106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 253px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SvDx31ouggI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1nD7hwzH3zM/s200/emma_watson%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-4330260838756216582?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/4330260838756216582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/greatest-gift-to-america-since-statue.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4330260838756216582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4330260838756216582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/greatest-gift-to-america-since-statue.html' title='The Greatest Gift to America since the Statue of Liberty'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SvDx31ouggI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1nD7hwzH3zM/s72-c/emma_watson%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-7611682532762768070</id><published>2009-11-02T23:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T09:30:12.442-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Biggest Mind-Blowing Debates of 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/Su_Fm-CT7lI/AAAAAAAAACA/fkd7vB9BrSI/s1600-h/on-court-kobe-bryant-vs-lebron-james-1%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399751751518907986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 167px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/Su_Fm-CT7lI/AAAAAAAAACA/fkd7vB9BrSI/s200/on-court-kobe-bryant-vs-lebron-james-1%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Kobe or LeBron&lt;br /&gt;The whole Kobe or LeBron saga that will continue for the rest of their careers swept the nation this past summer. Kobe won his 4th ring, Bron Bron was MVP. First it was a sports fan and Sports Center fan. Next, when superstar rappers got in, it is safe to say I lost interest, except in the fact I had some good new music. Lil Wayne liked Kobe and Young Jeezy took sides with the so-called King. In this situation I only have one factor I look at when choosing sides, and that is how much money each player is worth. These men are both well above my standard for personal worth so they both win. End of story. See ya later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Brett Farve&lt;br /&gt;Love him or hate him, he is undeniably proving all the guys I watch on Sports Center wrong every time he steps onto that field. Sure he chastised his former team and made everyone in the country with a TV sick about hearing about his possible return but he is just killing opponents out there this year, so far 7-1 heading into a bye week and beating the Packers twice. If God played professional football, his name would be Brett Farve. (Notice how I put professional football)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Tim Tebow&lt;br /&gt;I guess there’s really no argument here (what could you debate about him). He is the G.O.A.T. Simply the best that ever played the game of college football. Breaking records like it’s his job and taking names while doing it. Also winning championships and Heisman’s along the way. The ultimate team leader and &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96vAbtpakLg"&gt;motivational speaker&lt;/a&gt;, it’s safe to say he’s my hero. If God played college football, his name most definitely would be Tim Tebow. Mess with Tebow, and this is what happens. Word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399907703116182626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 334px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 259px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/SvBTcjAitGI/AAAAAAAAACI/M73sybaaPL4/s200/bloody-tebow%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Chipotle or Qdoba&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The battle of the IL-legal immigrants of our country that provide us with authentic Mexican meals everyday American style. And by American style I mean fast and convenient, just the way we like it. So which is it? I choose Qdoba for a number of reasons, most likely because the word “Qdoba” redefines everything I was ever taught in English class. (Doesn’t U come always right after Q?) Oh, and their Mexican gumbo soup is delicious. I wanted to make the title of this post about sports debates but I had to throw this one in there. Another reason why Chipotle can kiss it.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/Su_EWa5QPOI/AAAAAAAAAB4/l4xyHch-iQQ/s1600-h/qdoba%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399750367696141538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 76px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/Su_EWa5QPOI/AAAAAAAAAB4/l4xyHch-iQQ/s200/qdoba%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399749916311350434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 55px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/Su_D8JWu7KI/AAAAAAAAABw/-O70o12VAIc/s200/chipotle1%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-7611682532762768070?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/7611682532762768070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/biggest-mind-blowing-debates-of-2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/7611682532762768070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/7611682532762768070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/biggest-mind-blowing-debates-of-2009.html' title='Biggest Mind-Blowing Debates of 2009'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oXdnvKP_2pE/Su_Fm-CT7lI/AAAAAAAAACA/fkd7vB9BrSI/s72-c/on-court-kobe-bryant-vs-lebron-james-1%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-4298979924043464773</id><published>2009-11-02T15:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T13:13:12.798-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Laundry 1</title><content type='html'>Starting a new thing where, what the title indicates, is a post all about what I've been thinking as of late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick question, what do you think about before you go to sleep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A)The next days work&lt;br /&gt;B)What you will be wearing tomorrow in full detail?&lt;br /&gt;C)Time travel&lt;br /&gt;D) Your future/current spouse&lt;br /&gt;E) Other (Please share)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nutter-Butters are a very under-rated cookie.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Candy corn is &lt;strong&gt;the worst&lt;/strong&gt; candy ever. (And yet, every year I forget so I try it on Halloween, gag, and then remember again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What would happen if J.D. Salinger and Mark Twain had a twitter account? What would they tweet?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Women should never intercede with their opinions of facial hair. It’s a surefire way to ruin dreams.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What would happen if I hired two private detectives to follow each other?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-4298979924043464773?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/4298979924043464773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/listen-ive-been-thinking.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4298979924043464773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/4298979924043464773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/listen-ive-been-thinking.html' title='Dirty Laundry 1'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-5602294763291344676</id><published>2009-11-02T11:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T23:39:36.923-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick of Being Sick</title><content type='html'>So, I've been a little under-the-weather as of late and not liking it one bit. More accurately I've been flirting with Death. When you're perfectly healthy and everything is going smoothly, you don't realize how miserable it would be to have a stuffy nose, hit-by-a-truck headache, whooping cough, queasy stomach, and the shits all at the same time. And when you are sick, you just pray that if somehow you could get better at that very instant, you would get up and be productive and make the world a better place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't seen another human for the past 6 hours because I haven't left the couch in 6 hours. I'm literally (or do I mean figuratively) bored out of my mind and about to go insane. There's only so much Sports Center, The Price is Right, and Oprah one can watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's currently a Monday, (I hope so I haven't seen outdoors in days and I hope my counting skills are true ) and I have viewed the same Sports Center highlights from NFL Sunday like 38,000 times, the same 1st and 10 in the morning 4 times, the same Mike and Mike in the morning twice, and woah as I'm typing this another viewing of NFL highlights from yesterday. I feel like I watched every single game yesterday without actually watching a second. Creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing about being sick (the professionals are calling it is the flu, but not swine flu (thank God)). is the hot and cold flashes you have during the night. Freezing cold one hour, the next your body is an inferno. Must have changed clothes 18 times during the night. Oh and I almost forgot, and this maybe the worst part about being sick is what happens when you blow your nose too much, and it gets so raw and red and painful and is pure hell to deal with. Ever experience that? I'm reminded of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer every time I look at my reflection. And every time you put petroleum jelly or Carmex on it you immediately have to blow your nose again, completely defeating the purpose of putting the gel on in the first place. Its a never-ending battle and sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well there's really only one cure for when you're sick. Yes rest, medicine, and fluids help but the best and this is a proven fact is laughter. You can laugh your worries away and that's exactly what I've been doing. Here's a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7_F_AqeRqo"&gt;pretty funny video &lt;/a&gt;totally un-related to this post. Welp, until next time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-5602294763291344676?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/5602294763291344676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/sick-of-being-sick.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5602294763291344676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/5602294763291344676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/sick-of-being-sick.html' title='Sick of Being Sick'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032100098734834332.post-3459226200016571164</id><published>2009-11-02T00:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T20:49:42.135-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chew Your Food Softly</title><content type='html'>Well, first let me say welcome to my blog. This is my first one and I don't know why I haven't done this sooner. What I'm going for here is to have fun and be completely unpredictable. I strive for unpredictability. I'm a big believer in fate and it was in your destiny, (yes, I'm personally talking to you reader) to take a look at my blog and if your reading this by now and haven't gone anywhere, might as well take a look around and see what's going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, I have to address the title of this post and this blog. I know the suspense is killing you, right? But do you realize how hard it is to come up with that killer, creative user name, email address, gamertag, or title? Like seriously the process sucks. A killer user name consists of three parts: creativity, laughability, and originality. Do you opt for the completely original one? or the one that makes grown men giggle? I make Brett Farve look like the most decisive person in the world when choosing my unique user names. And when you do think of a perfect one, its already been taken. The best gamertags/user names I've seen don't have numbers on the end or within the actual name. That's lame. So is CaPiTaLiZiNg every other letter. That's lame and annoying, a double whammy. I usually just end up using made up words (like my XBOX Live gamertag) or something that's on my mind at the time. which happens to be the way I came up with "Chew Softly." I cannot stand people who chew their food loud. I know someone who made pulling cotton candy off the stick sound like World War 3. And that's just what was happening when I was dreaming up this whole blog creation. Dude was chewing loudly, BAM, got my blog title. If you don't like it well I don't like you. It works for me and that's all that matters. Seeee ya,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1032100098734834332-3459226200016571164?l=tylergriffey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/feeds/3459226200016571164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/chew-your-food-softly.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3459226200016571164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1032100098734834332/posts/default/3459226200016571164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tylergriffey.blogspot.com/2009/11/chew-your-food-softly.html' title='Chew Your Food Softly'/><author><name>TylerGriffey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13277083799574229170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
