Some Thoughts From a Muggle

You know what bothers me about Rowling's world of magic most? I mean, besides that absurd Quidditch game scoring (I know, plot reasons, Harry has to be the most important in EVERYTHING)...
It's the ease by which everyone can kill each other!
I mean, all you have to say is two gibberish words and BOOM headshot! Except it doesn't have to be a headshot. I assume you can Avada Kedavra someone in the butt or on their foot even and they stone-cold die. So what was so special about Bellatrix killing Sirius? What was so terrifying about the whole Death-Eaters in the first place? They're shooting off roman candles at each other while all they really need to do is rehearse the killing curse phrase over and over again. That's all Bellatrix had to do in her final battle against the Weasley gingers, but she giggles instead until she somehow disintegrates because Mrs. Weasley scowls so intently at her. Why? I dunno. Because magic.
So, in the magical world, it is tradition to give 11 year-olds the equivalent of a magical gun that never runs out of ammo. And they take it to school. And the school is full of raging hormonal teenagers. And the school deliberately polarizes these students by putting them into separate houses. And one of the houses happens to have all the offspring of known sociopathic killers.
If I was Peeves the Poltergeist, I'd be whispering to Lavender Brown, "It's so easy, Lavender. All you have to do is say two words and point your wand at Hermione. Then all the competition for Won Won will be gone gone!"
Or, I could be a new dark wizard that bests Harry Potter simply by duct taping my wand to my hands, so he's like "Expelliarmus!! Hey... WTF?" And I'm like, "LOL, Avada Kedavra. Boom. Hufflepuffs FOREVER!!" Then I Imperius curse my way to the top of the Muggle world and live in luxury and infamy to the end of my immortal days (immortal cause I'd throw a few horcruxes in there just for kicks).
Then I read back on what I have posted... oh man, I'm evil!

....

Pretty stellar for my first post since the second round of the NBA playoffs, and my first non-sports post since February, eh? What can I say... these days my thoughts are so deep that I am having a lot of trouble... retrieving... them. Yup. See you in six months!

Sports Corner with a Dunce Cap

Uninformed. Unintentional. Underdog.
Unbiased? Nah... it's kinda biased.
Here's some of the conspiracy theories I have in my head following the Rockets/Mavs beatdown... I mean series.

Theory #1: Rajon Rondo is a double agent for the Houston Rockets.
Daryl Morey's craftiness knows no bounds or precedents. Some Houston fans probably wondered why he didn't reach out to Rondo with a stronger hand than he did once Rondo hit the market. Well guess what... he DID! MOREY PAYED RONDO TO PLAY FOR THE MAVS!! Yup. Weeks before the deadline, Morey had a vision at night of J.J. Barrea making a fool out of the Rocket's 30+ point guards, so Morey decided to usurp the little man with a wash-up big name has-been, knowing full well that Mark Cuban loves has-beens more than even the New York Knicks. Predictably, Cuban took the bait, and the rest is history.
Here is Morey's EXACT conversation over the phone with Rondo that set it all in motion:
Morey: "You go 'play' for the Mavericks--and you can't see it over the phone but I'm putting up air-quotes when I say 'play'--and we'll make sure you're not hurting after the team excludes you from a playoff share."
Rondo: "Oh man, that's so GANGSTA!!"
Thus the first double-agent NBA playa is born... or is he the first? Remember that guy named Metta World Peace?

After Cuban exited the Toyota Center on Tuesday, talking about the game being sooooo "last season", he would then join Morey for dinner at some uppety restaurant in downtown Houston and Morey would tell him all about the Rondo scam. The two would then share a big laugh because, Theory #2, Daryl Morey and Mark Cuban are actually friends! All of Cuban's smack talk up to this point concerning the Rockets and Morey has just been business. It's press. It gets people saying bad things about Cuban, sure, but it still gets people saying things about Cuban. Morey understands. Morey has done the same thing when it comes to Charles Barkley. Then, after game seven of the Spurs/Clippers series, both Morey and Cuban will call Poppovich to congratulate him on his win and then all three will get together to form a trio of the most-ahead-of-the-curve minds in all of basketballdom and talk shop, particularly how they're gonna make basketball so powerful and dominant in the state of Texas that the NBA will have no choice but to keep the three Texan teams in the league even after Texas secedes from the the rest of the country.

After game 3 of the series, Coach Rick Carlisle--unaware of the secret camaraderie between Cuban and Morey--makes a calculated statement to the press knowing full well he was going to get fined. What is 25 grand compared to keeping your job? Carlisle witnessed the domination of Howard and knew there was no other way to stop him... his last option was Theory #3- Jim Carrey. Yes, that's right. With his statement, Carlisle already got the refs gunning for Howard, so now all he had to do was get his own players on the same page. Carlisle then calls upon his doppleganger--perhaps even a long lost brother--Jim Carrey to come teach the players a little about... over-acting. Yes. Embellishment. It's now a common and effective defensive strategy in the NBA. And, as we witness all throughout the 90's and much of this century, Jim Carrey knows a thing or two about falling. Barrea, Ellis, and Novitski (though Novitski was already pretty good at it) take the teaching to heart and what do you know, Dwight gets called for three offensive fouls in one single quarter in game 5, all of them on off-ball stuff (illegal screens and rebounding). Unfortunately for the Mavs, the refs make sure that the numbers even out most of the time regardless of the contact going on from either side, so Dwight got away with some real stuff in the fourth quarter. This is more evidence that Cuban is actually friends with Morey, because you can be certain that if Cuban REALLY wanted to win, those refs would have some fat wads of cash in their pockets and Dwight would have six fouls three minutes into the second quarter.

And despite the over-the-top tone of this article, I actually do believe that NBA players are coached to flop. I think it's a European strategy assimilated from soccer culture. I also believe that James Harden is NOT EVEN CLOSE to the league's top floppers. I've commented on social media about that before.

So the Rockets made it to the second round. Wow. The Astros are in first place in their division. Wow. Even the Texans have a soft enough schedule that playoffs are certainly a possibility for them. Is it finally Houston's time? Have I finally sufficiently repented that the Lord will let the teams I love most rise above mediocrity!? I don't know. Either I have just jinxed every one of them, or the Rockets are going to win a championship, the Astros are going to win a World Series, the Texans are going to win a Super Bowl, and Houston's expansion NHL team that nobody even knows about yet is going to defy all science and win a Stanley Cup in their first season. And then make sure your food storage is up to date because the Second Coming will be shortly thereafter...

No! Don't Do This To Me Father Time!

This is how I know the universe revolves around me:
Dinosaur Comics, one of my favorite things about waking up every day, was all about this today.
Today is a national holiday: Fat Tuesday. What did I have to eat today? A bacon cheeseburger and an XXL stuffed burrito from Taco Bell. Yup. This national holiday is all about me.
A step ladder went out of its way today just to be hit on the highway by the very car I was driving. Don't worry. No sexagenarians were injured in the incident. Also no 29 year olds. Just a flat tire.

!!!

Yes. 29. As much as I petition father time to let me slide, he only speeds things up. Next thing you know I'll wake up being like... 30 or something. That's beyond menace. That's like Sith Lord in the Mormon church, and not dashing and mysterious Vader... we're talking Palpatine.
With that reference is there any wonder I'm still single?
Anyways, no offense to any of my 30+ single male readers in the Mormon church. Last time I checked, I didn't have any of those, but I gotta put that in there just to cover my bases.
So there you have it. Irrefutable evidence that this universe exists only so I can live in it. So if anyone wants to know how the most important man in the world is spending the 29th anniversary of his graduation from the pre-mortal experience, just know that it involves hanging out with cats. And not much else.
So I gotta go. The kids are supposed to surprise me here in a bit. Huzzah!
See you with the next trippy dream! Still waiting for it...

Cobwebs

"Todd Martin is the real deal!" -someone potentially famous.
"If everyone in the world was like Todd Martin, there would be no war... also no taxes... and we would eat chimichangas all the time." -maybe Mark Twain?
"Everything is better when it is deep fried." -Todd Martin.

I know. There must be sooo many questions. Questions like, "Why did you start your post with these silly quotes?" or "What happened with the whole 'moving away from Atlanta thing' you hinted about in the last post?" or "Why did God give us bodies that produce boogers and poo and hairy armpits?" or

"WHAT HAPPENED WITH THE REST OF 2014?!"

Let me explain... no, it is too much, let me sum up.

Those three lines at the top (there was a fourth that I'm not sure where it went... maybe it didn't get approved?) are what appears on my profile under that "About Me" secion...

...on LDS planet.

Woa! Talk about lines I never thought I would cross!

Is it a New Year's resolution? Is it because I'm turning 29 soon and hit a landmark of desperation?

Kinda...

Here's what really happened.

I moved away from Atlanta.

Not only did I effectively RESTART my whole social life at virtual ground zero, but I am doing so in one of the smallest social-spheres I have ever been a part of. I call it the Brazosport Twig. It's the Brazosport Branch (get it? Twig?! :D), the YSA of the upper Bay City Stake, and its average sacrament attendance is about... 15. And 8 of the 15 are branch presidency or full time missionaries. You get it, right? That's like 8 people, less than half of which are girls. So, my social life becomes very fragile. Even if I was to try and date of the three to four girls that attends, what happens if things go sour? Would I get another chance? With anyone? So, the online dating thing is a way of increasing my... options.

Man I sound like such a tool right now.

Anyways, I'm open to other possibly better site suggestions from any of my... experienced readers.

So let's talk about less weird stuff. Why did I move back to Texas, and back in with my folks specifically... well there are a lot of factors. If you really want ot know them, you probably already know them, but let's just say I didn't come back to become this guy. This is a temporary thing.

And that is life. What more can I say? I'm enjoying being back with family and cats and stuff, but I also really really miss Atlanta in a lot of ways. And though there have been a lot of head-scratchers for me lately, I still look forward with faith and enthusiasm... and maybe even ambition, which is uncharacteristic of me. In the meantime, enjoy your Grumpy Cat's Worst Christmas Ever, enjoy your Galavant, enjoy your Over the Garden Wall, enjoy your Super Smash Brothers, enjoy your Josh Smith and Corey Brewer, and enjoy the finale of Legend of Korra (except for the fact that it got sprayed with progressive urine, just like Harry Potter, Adventure Time, and Frozen).

I'll see you again when I have another trippy dream!