MNF Live Blogging by The Nick, Eamonn, Lauren and Jason

11:24

Welp! That's it! Way to go for it on 4th and goal...AT FOUR YARDS OUT!

I'm going to finish the watching the game upstairs. Hopefully Jason's whimpering won't keep me up all night....you know, once I finish crying myself to sleep.

10:48

Rocky MacIntosh just SLAMMED Michael "Must Love Dogs" Vick.

See what I did there? Yeah, I'm a genius. No, no dear. There's no need to thank me. I do it out of the kindness in my heart. And another thing. Did you know that Michael Vick had named his home when he was running his dogfighting operation? Yup. He called it "Hotel For Dogs."

Ohhhhhhhh SNAP!!

P.S. Everyone else went to bed, so I'm only updating when I have something absurd to say. Because if I do live blogging now I'm just a lame dick talking to himself on the computer.

P.P.S. I'm going to see Where The Wilds Things Are. Tomorrow. Come hell or high water. Preferably high water because it'll give me a good excuse to try out my new swimmies.

10:09

NC: Halftime. Well, I guess it could be worse....we could be watching the game while battling a case of scorching herpes.

9:39

NC: TOUCHDOWN! WOOT!

EN: And...BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE!

Jason says, "That touchdown was so pretty they're gonna give us 20 points for it."

9:33

NC: I hope Danny Smith has Irish blood running through his veins, 'cuz I'm gonna start calling him The Angry Leprechaun. But he's right; those refs blew that call harder than a Thai prostitute at a donkey show.

9:23

NC: Fumble. I don't think that was supposed to happen.

9:22

NC: Jason and Lauren are totally gay for each other.

9:09

NC: Jason says, "I don't know what's sadder, the fact that I have tits or that you're attracted to them."

9:07

EN: "MumumummMAHMAHmumum...bbbbbbb. AH!"

NC: Jason takes off his shirt. Cue my boner.

8:59

NC: Lauren put her stupid pear in my bowl of chips. I swear, some people have lost all common decency. I blame the raunchy music of 90's pop sensation Hanson.

Brian Westbrook got hurt. I also blame this on the music of 90's pop sensation Hanson.

8:56

LN: this is like a sweaty gang bang and only the Redskins were invited

8:54

LN: winningest is a stupid word. made up by stupid people, whiteys.

8:51

LN: Jason won't shut up with the effing geetar. Nick is pretending that a light saber/steady cam thing is an automatic weapon weiner thingy ma bob.

8:50

JN: Oh good, we get an opportunity to punt.

8:49-Myth Busted! Cats don't know how to use drills.

8:46

LN: I am not bashing the Redskins. I am just bashing what is taking place at this moment. Fuck.

8:45-Touchdown Eagles

JN & NC: Effing facepalm.

8:44

LN: Wow Redskins. you shit the bed already, you fucks.

8:42

LN: kickoff...your socks and pull up a chair!

8:41 - Kickoff

NC: KICKOFF! KICK ASS. Butts. Fart. Tee hee.

Tonight is a special one, for this is Mr. Eamonn Nagy's first Monday Night Football game with the Redskins. In celebration of this, the gang will be doing a live blog throughout the game. I would say that you should check back often through the evening to keep up, but you a-holes won't even read this until three weeks from now. So screw you.

The guilty parties:

Nick "BLT Hold the L&T" Colevas (NC)

Eamonn "Mini Maniac" Nagy (EN)

Jason " The Hung Jury" Nagy (JN)

Lauren "Shoepants Galore" Nagy (LN)

NC: KICKOFF!!

SUPER DUPER CEREAL

This junk is gonna be lighting fast. Ready. Steady. GO!!

UNO! From here on out all of my nerd-centric blogs will be called "Super Duper Cereal," in homage to Al Gore and Manbearpig.

DOS! We Shoot Horses should still be up and running by Halloween. I hope it will be Halloween of this year and not 2012...because that's the year the world ends...except for John Cusack.

TRES! The new American Steel record is teh sex. I don't , quite frankly, know what that friggin means, but my inner cool guy says it's all the rage with the kids these days. I don't quite know how anything but sex can be "teh sex," but what do I know?

CUATRO! I joined the rest of civilization and purchased a Wii. The idea is that the Wii fit will encourage me to exercise more. That is, I plan to use it as something of a supplement to my weight-loss plans. For example: On days I have school I have to leave at 8:00am and I have class (with breaks) until 10:00pm. Then of course comes the dreaded ride home. Therefore, I can't get my Greek ass to the gym. But if I can burn a few calories pretending to Mario playing King Koopa at tennis...well then that can't be bad, can it?

Plus it's way fun.

CINCO! A few pictures of the best kid ever. Undeniably.

Dude. Lookit' them there blue eyes! He's like Henry Fonda! But a baby. He's like a baby Henry Fonda. Except he's not an actor. So he's like a non-acting baby Henry Fonda.

Good Lord....That kid has helped change my life for the better.

SIES! My EMF partners like my film project ideas. So does my professor. So that's cool.

OCHO!! On Tuesday I turned in my Sound & Story treatment. I turned The Pogues' "Sally MacLennane" into a treatment for a short film. I hand it in and my professor goes, "Hey, the Pogues! Nice choice!" That made me feel pretty cool.

NUEVE! The Wizard of Oz came out on Blu-ray....so uh....yeah. I just wet my pants if I am not mistak -- yes, yes...I have. I have wet my pants.

That is all.

P.S. Add

The Crazy Totally Longest Blog, Part 1

In my opinion, one of the most productive (not to mention fun!) writing exercises the the Stream of Consciousness one. You know. That one where you write in a stream of...uhm....something. Or other? I don't know. Whatever.

So as I was saying, I love the stream of consciousness exercise; it's proven itself time and again to be quite fruitful for my writing. Now, I've never come upon a fresh idea for a story. I've never had some amazing breakthrough with a story in progress. Never have I unearthed some mindblowing clarity on a long lost story I gave up on years ago. So why's it so friggin awesome? Here's the rub: this exercise has been my Giant Killer. The Giant?

Writer's block. UGH.

Something about SOC gets the creative juices flowing. Not having to worry about grammar, misspellings or typos, allowing myself to be nonsensical and silly, shooting from the hip and, in the end, allowing myself just to...well, GO! There's is something so fruitful about this that it just breaks through writer's block (or, at the very least, busts a few bricks).

I'm not suffering through writer's block right now, as taking two writing courses had pretty much forced me not to (ha!). But on the way home today I felt the urge to take a few minutes to just...GO! To just friggin write something!

So here's what I'm gonna do: Come Halftime, I'm gonna start writing and I won't stop until the second half starts. I'm clearing my head until the clock hits 0:00 and then I'm just gonna go beserk. It's funny; the last time I did this publicly it was posted on my MySpace blog and my friend Scott commented that if he didn't know any better he thought I was drunk or high when I wrote what I had written. A few years later, I've had more than my fair share of drinks - and a few of those drinks lost me The Good Life -- but tonight I'm stone cold sober and ready to....

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GO!! ( 10:07pm)

So here's what I'm thinking for Deposed Kings: it's not about the Western, it's about race and reconstruction; think Ford's The Searchers, right? But here's the thing. Ford didn't really succeed with The Searchers in his attempt to portray racism as a terrible thing, he made Wayne, the protagonist, the racist, so you have all of these racist butts thinking their position is justified. So here's the problem: you can't be heavy handed in the approach. Clearly, the antagonists (the former confederate mercenaries) are the evil folks preventing forward progress. And clearly, Alex and his fellow townsfolk are the physical representation of a Utopian society - race, gender, age, and all that - it's all relative when it comes to society. Wow...pretty deep? or not. It's hard to get deep when you're pumped full of diet coke and worried about getting your yellw legal pads in order. Seriously....yellow legal pads. I have tons of them now. Every time we send an archived file to be "destroyed" (you know they just throw it in the dumpster) I go through it and take out all the binder clips, legal pads, paper clips and folders i can find. i save all the stuff except for the yellow legal pads for the firm. why? everything else gets re-used....no one ever uses a legal pad with three pages in it so they told me i can just take them. so i do. so now after the move i have a fartload of them in my room. i asked jason and lauren if they wanted any but they said no, their loss. i just took a sip of diet coke to eas my nerves this feels like a PG rated Hubert Selby novel. wow. who gets that joke? and how lame was it? very. whatever, you kids need to read Selby so you don't end up drug addicts. anywho

i have this idea. (well a few) for my emf 222 class but i don't know if my partners will go for them. here's the thing. in intro to film (now film/video) you're warned that you won't make your masterpiece - i heard this twice!- both times i listened. back before i fucked everything up with school a couple years ago i was well aware that i wasnt some great artist, but i was just a student. at 28, i still think that way. i still think i'm learning. so anyway, my partners have had lackluster responses to my comical ideas for short films ( all shorts are sposed about 1 minute except for the last two) They have these very serious ideas....mine are funny. lame, but funny. but the important thing is: they provide ample opportunity for execution of basic film techniques. and thats the point, right? meh.

i have to get my transcript from CSM so towson no longer thinks i'm a fuckup.

imean an educational, institutional fuckup. not like a whatareyougonnadowithyourlife kind of fuckup. meh. i'm working at it. atheism? forget it. agnosticism? psh. honestly there HAS to be a GOD if i'm still alive. there had to be a GOD. there's a reason i'm still around. sure, sure, all ya atheists will come out and say something about survival of the fittest and i'll say: look at me? ya think i'm the fittest?

and then they'll get all cute and start talking science talk so i'll quote charlie from It's Always Sunny in PA and say "what's with all the science talk" and they won't get it so/

/i'll flash a little hog and be on my way, not really caring if they like me or not because damn it it's sorta fun to be living.

(10:27)

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That little slash is where my alarm went off. I finished the thought. I'll be completely honest; I wish I could place that backslash so that my post-alarm verbage read:

it's sorta fun to be living.

But alas, that was not to be. It would be almost fitting, wouldn't it? I had once convinced myself I wanted to die. Had convinced myself that no one loved me, that no one cared. I had myself convinced that I was alone. Well, I still feel pretty lonely at times, considering at this point last year I was screaming as loud as I could "I'm in love! She's The One!" and yet having no faith in myself or anyone else which led down a dark road and, well...we all know how that turned out....

I've found faith. I've found God.

And so I may be lonely here on earth, but I know I'm not alone in the end.

(P.S. I cut this blog short before it became too preachy.)