On Christmas Day 2007, David Belniak was involved in a horrific traffic accident in Florida.   David, who was estimated to be traveling at 75-85 mph in a 45 mph zone, slammed his truck into the back of a car which was stopped at a red light. Authorities say that Belniak was driving while intoxicated on alcohol, Xanax and cocaine.  Three people died as a result.

Last August, Belniak pleaded guilty to three counts of DUI manslaughter and was sentenced to 12 years in prison.  During the entire court proceedings Belniak never said a word, not even when the victims’ children asked for an apology.

But he is speaking out now.

Through court documents filed with the state, Belniak is now saying that he is not responsible for the crash and that he should be compensated for his suffering.

Yes, you read that right; Douchetastic Belniak is suing the estate of the victims for his “pain and suffering … mental anguish … loss of capacity for the enjoyment of life” and the medical bills he received as a result of the crash HE caused!  Hey dipshit, what about the “pain and suffering” you caused the families of the victims? Is it not good enough that you killed them because of your stupidity, but now you have to throw in another jab at the surviving families?

The case itself was filed by Belniak’s attorney who also just happens to be his sister. Hmmm, I am starting to wonder … is Douchebaggery hereditary? If so, can we call it Douchebagatosis? It appears to me this family may be infected with it. And since we are already speaking about the family, why don’t I go ahead and throw in the fact that Belniak was listed as an officer in the family construction company, one that has 12 properties in its name.  There is no shortage of money but the brains seem to be lacking in this family.

This isn’t the first time this fuck-nugget has been charged with DUI either. One time in 2003, a Florida police officer found a gallon of the date rape drug GHB in the trunk of Belniak’s car after his arrest for DUI.  Yes, I did say a gallon! For this crime of passion, (well maybe not passion) Belniak pled guilty and spent seventeen months in state prison for trafficking GHB and DUI.

In 1994 Belniak was involved in another “accident” when a pedestrian was killed after being hit by our favorite fucktabulous friend.   Somehow, Belniak was not charged for this event.

It is a good thing you will be driven to the court room by means of a jail transport van; otherwise we would probably be down another innocent family to your antics.  I have seen more responsible decision making in the gaggle of geese currently shitting on my car.

David Belniak, I can no longer speak on the retardedness of you or your family.  I hereby sentence you to Douchebagistan and coronate you Minister of Transportation and Population Control.  It is because of you that we will keep the population of D-Stan in check; all we have to do is give you a company car.

This whole shit storm was incited by one little email from Professor Avery in response to a school wide email requesting donations for holiday care packages to be sent to our brothers and sisters who just happen to be deployed in war zones around the world. For those of you with high blood pressure, you may want to take a little extra dose of medication before you read this so your head doesn’t explode. Avery states in his email “I think it is shameful that it is perceived as legitimate to solicit in an academic institution for support for men and women who have gone overseas to kill other human beings. I understand that there is a residual sympathy for service members, perhaps engendered by support for troops in World War II, or perhaps from when there was a draft and people with few resources to resist were involuntarily sent to battle.”

Really?!? I understand that you are getting up there in age Mikey, but with those years of experience comes knowledge, right? Comparing WWII and Vietnam references to today’s military state is just asinine, especially for a presumed educated man such as you. These brave men and women volunteered to place their life in danger so that you sir have the constitutional right and opportunity to be a shithead.

But it doesn’t stop there, Avery then continues with a tirade on our flag with “We need to be more mindful of what message we are sending as a school. Since Sept. 11 we have had perhaps the largest flag in New England hanging in our atrium. This is not a politically neutral act. Excessive patriotic zeal is a hallmark of national security states. It permits, indeed encourages, excesses in the name of national security, as we saw during the Bush administration, and which continue during the Obama administration.”

So now, not only are you blasphemed for supporting our troops by donating to the cause, the school is also a full-fledged member of the “machine” because it proudly displays a large American flag. Dude, get a fucking clue.

There is a little more to Professor (and I use the term loosely) Avery than what is being reported in the main stream media. McQ at Blackfive dug up a little bit of “The Ave’s” history which includes: the fact that “He’s a Harvard grad who also studied at Moscow University from ‘68 to ‘69 (and that tells you volumes).” He once gave a talk in Cuba (with Fidel Castro in attendance) entitled “The Hypocrisy of US Policy Towards Terrorism.”

So to sum it all up, we have a douchebag who likes to spew his hatred for our service members, ridicule an academic institution for their display of the American flag, and has a history of communism. Hmmm, I may be stepping out of bounds here but…if it looks like a commie, sounds like a commie, acts like a commie, we just may have a fucking commie amongst us!

Hey dicksmack – why don’t you head on over to Starbucks and get a hot, fresh, cup of WAKE THE FUCK UP! This is America, we love our service-members and appreciate that they, not you, have the gumption to Ranger the Fuck Up and go where you are too scared to go. Be a good little boy and do what your mommy said, “if you haven’t anything nice to say, don’t say it at all.” But I guess this advice is just a little too late.
Michael Avery, I hereby sentence you Douchebagistan – as you wait in line for moldy bread, you can spew your silly little views on life and have the company of many, many politically-retarded, like minded individuals.

Before I start my rant on the Casa Monica Hotel, and for the benefit of the entire nation, I would like to present an open letter.

Dear Homeowners Associations, Employers, and everyone else that this may pertain to,

I am going to give you some brief, sound advice; never….ever, try to come between a veteran and their flag. It could be a large one in his yard, one in his window, or just a small lapel pin on his jacket or hat. The size or the materials it is made of really doesn’t matter, as long as it has the stars, stripes, and the red, white, and blue of our country. The immediate shit-storm of negativity you will create will knock you off your feet and you will be consumed by the 4 million veterans and untold numbers of supporters spewing the same hatred for you as they do the enemy. Now, I fully understand that currently only .45% of our nation’s population has served in the Global War on Terrorism (shameless plug for an absolutely freaking awesome shirt), but do you really want to reap the consequences of that .45% as they rise up collectively to bitch-slap your stupid-ass in the face?

Please realize that trying to take a flag from a veteran is like trying to keep the rock away from Lindsay Lohan, it just isn’t going to happen and we are going to do whatever necessary to ensure that others are well aware of your asinine decisions. Each veteran has given some part of their individual lives to protect that flag and what it represents, whether fighting in foreign lands in times of war; standing guard in times of peace or being a member of our reserve forces ready to serve both our individual communities and nation. We do it, not for ourselves but for the betterment of our nation, and that flag in which you are trying to deprive us of is the symbol of our unity and resolve.

If you are still having problems with the message I am trying to convey, let me go ahead dumb it down for you….”Don’t fuck with our flag!”

Thank You,
Rob

Now, back to our regularly scheduled Douche of the Week: Casa Monica Hotel

The Casa Monica Hotel in St. Augustine, Florida recently fired Army veteran Sean May for, get this, wearing an American flag lapel pin. In a statement, the parent company for the hotel, Kessler Enterprise, says “Our employee handbook clearly states, ‘No other buttons, badges, pins or insignias of any kind are permitted to be worn other than the name badge.’ It is a standard regulation which ensures equality for all employees.” Kessler goes on to say its “…property reflects great pride in America and great patriotism as well.” Really?!? So forcing a veteran to remove a symbol of his dedication to this country is patriotic? I bet the flag you fly in front of your hotel (should you actually have one) is tattered and faded.

Maybe I am slightly retarded, but I do believe that there is a little difference between an American Flag pin and one that states “pull-my-finger.” Sean May, the now-former front desk supervisor has been a member of the Florida Army National Guard since 2002 and has been twice deployed to Iraq. Here’s an idea, why don’t you just incorporate the American flag into your cutsie little name badge or, better yet, why don’t you just mandate that everyone wear one?

I am all about rules, laws and regulations but there is a fine line…no scratch that, there is a clear delineation between right and wrong in this case, and in my opinion, the Casa Monica Hotel is managed by a bunch of fucktards. Even a member of the County Commissioners, Mark Miner, agrees making the statement that “I want to make it clear that the actions taken by the Casa Monica Hotel and Kessler Enterprises do not represent the patriotism shared by St. Johns County residents and businesses.”

There really isn’t much more to report, so I am going to make this short and sweet. Casa Monica Hotel, you are hereby banished to Douchebagistan. It seems that we have been sending a lot of people there lately and I am sure they are going to need your over-priced accommodations. Just make sure your employees have a name tag and nothing else on their attire, I want everyone to know you are a Douche.

College football season is almost upon us. Across the nation, in every stadium, at the beginning of every game Americans will stand, remove their ball-caps and place their right hand over their hearts for the time honored tradition of the playing of our national anthem; that is except for one. At Goshen College, in Northern Indiana, you won’t hear the “Star Spangled Banner” at any football game or any sporting event for that matter. Instead, you will hear “America the Beautiful.”

Goshen College has refused to play any music before the start of sporting events until March 2010 when they began playing an instrumental version of our national Anthem, and only after public outcry, because of the Mennonite beliefs of the college. It wasn’t so much the music but the actual words of our National Anthem that upset many. In an interview with the Chicago Tribune, a spokesman for the college, Richard R. Aguirre, explained that lyrics such as “the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air” were “inconsistent to the entire message we were trying to send.” That message is based on the motto of the School which is “Healing the world, Peace by Peace.”

Maybe Goshen president James E. Brenneman should enroll in one of the classes which probably aren’t even taught at his school – American History. Unfortunately, our country, the United States of America, was established through war; the same country which now provides the opportunity for a religious school to operate without the fears of persecution. How can you not honor the country which protects your Freedom of Religion?

You can be the biggest pacifist in the freaking world; I don’t have a problem with that. What I do have a problem with is the fact that there are an estimated 21.9 million military veterans currently alive in the United States. All of which wrote a blank check to their country in the amount of: up to and including their life. Maybe you should take a step back and endure the approximately 15 seconds’ worth of words being sung that disagree with your religious beliefs. I guaran-damn-tee you each one of those 21.9 million veterans endured a hell of a lot more than 15 seconds to give you the opportunity to freely believe.

The playing of the National Anthem at ANY sporting event is just about as American as apple pie. And, in my opinion, not playing the “Star Spangled Banner” before any sporting event is equally un-American. If Goshen College is that much of a peacenik college, why don’t they just play the classic anti-war rock anthem “War Pigs?”

Sorry Goshen, but I am going to have to sentence you to Douchebagistan or maybe to Canada…after all you are the Goshen Maple Leafs! It really isn’t that hard to be American, but one of the things we do as Americans is to honor our National Anthem.

Maybe I am just too much of an “Unapologetically American” sheepdog!

In light of the budget crisis (see RU “Douche of the Week: I Hate Congress) and the plethora of ideas on how to fix it (sarcasm…did ya get that one?), enter my submission for Douche of the week, Rep Barney Frank (D-MA), the Ranking Democratic member on the House Financial Services Committee.

His recent rant on why the government’s credit rating is in the hole is military spending. That’s right. According to Mr. Frank, the spending of tax payers’ dollars for our military to receive the proper gear, vehicles, rations, pay and have the means to replenish our ranks is the cause of our nation’s credit/money issue.

Holy Shit, Batman.

Before you point your long, bony finger of death at us, I would like to direct everyone’s attention to some of our elected officials’ annual salary:

Speaker of the House – $223,500
Senate Majority Leader – $193,400
Senate Minority Leader – $193,400
House Majority Leader – $193,400
House Minority Leader – $193,400

On that alone (not even mentioning the cost of their health benefits, security details, cost of living adjustments (COLA) etc. etc) a minority leader makes more per year THAN A FOUR STAR GENERAL’S BASE PAY AFTER 38 YEARS OF SERVICE.

Alongside some other members of congress, Rep Barney Frank wants to go after our military spending to save money.
I say this with all due respect sir…Fuck off.

Our Soldiers, Marines, Airmen and Sailors are in a FOB, a tent or a hole dug in the ground because we are fighting the enemies of our nation. We are being paid (on average) $56,000 a year and we do it with a smile on our face asking for more opportunities to serve our beloved flag.

How dare you and your fellowship of douchebags go after my brothers and sisters pay. How dare you go after our means to get the proper equipment so we can possibly return to our families outside of a wooden box.

And finally, HOW DARE you sit on your cushioned chair drinking your $5 bottled water eating a 5 course meal prepared by your personal chef and try to blame our military for the nation’s poor credit score.

You want to save money? Stop voting yourself a raise. Go back to the time when serving in Congress was a service, not a career and were getting paid per session, not a yearly salary. Leave the “World Police” also known as YOUR MILITARY alone.

Here we go again…another “conscientious objector (CO)” in the news this week. PFC Naser Abdo was arrested in outside Ft. Hood, TX after a tip from a local gun-store employee to authorities regarding a suspicious purchase of smokeless gun-powder and ammunition. Killeen, TX Police followed up on the tip and found Abdo in possession of bomb-making materials and weapons in his hotel room. Abdo had been AWOL from Ft. Campbell since July 4th and was originally arrested and held on his AWOL warrant, however on Friday, Prosecutors initiated Federal proceedings by charging him with possession of a destructive device.

Now that all of that crap is out of the way…let me tell you about some other interesting facts about PFC Naser Abdo. Lets start with his age…currently he is 21…meaning that the Global War on Terrorism has been going-on since before his left nut dropped and his first pube exposed itself. Abdo claims that his mother was Christian and his father Muslim and that he chose the Muslim route when he turned 17. Even the recruiters now days will tell you that when you join the infantry, you are going to kill shit….period…end of fucking story. Currently, and I say that with trepidation, we seem to be killing one species of enemy…the extremist Muslim variety. Why in the good googly-moogly would you even join the military and specifically the door-kicking Infantry if you knew there would be a chance that you were going to have to look down the barrel of a weapon and not be able to pull a slow, steady, squeeze with the meaty portion of your fore-finger-tip because of your religious beliefs.

Moving along…Naser Abdo made some fruity foo foo comments on the one year anniversary of the 2009 Ft. Hood shootings by MAJ Nadal Halik, stating “As I studied Islam and Islam’s commitment to peace, I developed an entirely new perspective on war and conscience… That’s when I realized my conscience would not allow me to deploy.”
How convenient to say such remarkably peaceful things while his CO package was still in the approval process…at the same time that he was garnering support from the peaceniks at “Courage to Resist”, a national organization founded by a Muslim to help COs.

I find it quite hilarious that Abdo claims “Early in basic training… one soldier repeatedly insulted me and Islam saying, ‘Go pray to your god that doesn’t exist or your pedophile prophet.” Yet, his CO status and separation from the Army were halted, after it had been first disapproved at the local level but then appealed and approved at the Pentagon, because child pornography was found on his government issued laptop. Hmmm…isn’t it ironic…don’t you think? A little too ironic…and I really do think…(yes, you can sing along with Alanis as you read this) this guy is a prime time, grade “A” douchebag of extremist proportions.

In interviews with police, Abdo stated that he wanted to kill innocent people at a local restaurant with a bomb made with the smokeless gun-powder and the instruction manual of “how to build a bomb in your Mom’s kitchen”. I guess he either had a change of heart on the whole Muslim = Peace concept or the entire act was complete bullshit! I am not convicting him here of any particular offense…but I stand by fact that if it looks like a schmuck, sounds like a schmuck, acts like a schmuck, smells like a schmuck, then chances are, there is a schmuckus among us!. Never-mind the fact that at his first appearance with the Federal Magistrate he had to be pulled to his feet when the Judge entered the courtroom (I have always liked the US Marshals) then yelled out “MAJ Nadal Halik 2009!” as he was being escorted from the courtroom.

PFC Naser Abdo, you are a scum sucking troglodyte and a thief of oxygen for the good soldiers of this country. I can only imagine how much fun you are going to have in Federal Bureau of Prisons when they find out about the child pornography and terroristic acts. 72 virgins…I think not! You are banished to Douchebagistan, and even there it may be too light of a sentence.

Army Sergeant First Class Sean Gittens has literally given his life to our country. He returned home safely from multiple combat deployments in which he was exposed to many a concussive blast. Unfortunately, those blasts took a toll on him and due to the traumatic brain injuries; he suffered a brain aneurism which left him wheelchair bound and unable to communicate. SFC Gittens is now cared for by his loving wife Sharon and four children along with full-time medical staff.

Sean and his family were approached by Homes for Our Troops (HFOT) – a national organization which modifies or builds homes for our severely injured veterans – who wanted to build a wheelchair-friendly home for the Gittens family that would greatly improve their quality of life. Sharon Gittens, Sean’s wife, selected Knob Hill Subdivision as they were already living in an apartment there and, at the time, liked the community.

At this point, everyone is happy and it seems like this is going to be another tear-jerking event of charity that will benefit a much deserving veteran. HFOT comes up with plans for a 2700 sq ft home that, after several negotiations with the subdivision, architecturally met all of the building requirements of the Deed Restrictions for the subdivision. Homes for Our Troops received the final approval from the Board of Directors led by Homeowners Association President Rick Trump.

HFOT proceeds with the building process, has a contractor lined up and hundreds of volunteers ready to execute the mission of building this home, and just four days prior to ground breaking this seemingly wonderful story of charity goes from sugar to shit! It seems that the Board of Directors had a change of heart, having their attorney issue a cease and desist order on HFOT halting the building process.

The fuck-sticks of SNOB Hill released a statement that the home to be built is too small for the subdivision and must be at least 3400 square feet even though the square footage of the plans meets all of the building requirements. The Board also stated that the home must be a multi-level home which contradicts the specifications of the deed restrictions and for a wheelchair bound veteran is about as useful as a screen-door on a submarine. Something is afoot and it stinks like bullshit!

Upon prodding, it seems that the ever snobbish residents of “the hill…dahling” were worried that this 2700 sq ft home is going to have a negative impact on their property values. Well, I hate to break the fucking news to you, but check the economy and the housing market in particular. Your 5000 sq foot home in Evans, Georgia isn’t worth shit to begin with.

In a press release from the Founder of HFOT, John Gonsalves, “Despite our working closely with the Knob Hill Property Owners Association over the past four months, we find ourselves in an untenable situation…Frankly, this late action begun by the Knob Hill Property Owners means we must suspend working on the home. The Knob Hill Property Owners Association has now assured that SFC Gittens and his family will not be able to have the home they so desperately need. We have done everything in our power to try to resolve this situation, but it appears that the community is not willing to accept this home, and SFC Gittens and his family into the community.”

After twenty-two years of active service, this honored veterans wife received the message loud and clear, “They just don’t want us here,” she said during a phone interview. Wisely, Mrs. Gittens has chosen to move on from Knob Hill after assurances from HFOT that they would still build the home they promised, just in a more welcoming community. To top it all off, no one from the Board of Directors had the balls to attend the news conference when Sharon Gittens declared that she was moving on from Knob Hill.

To the members and residents of the Knob Hill Subdivision in Evans, Georgia who opposed the building of the home for SFC Sean Gittens…and in the words of Cee Lo Green… “Forget you” (or maybe the uncensored version would be a little more appropriate). We hereby banish you to DOUCHEBAGISTAN, I am sure they need someone to dictate architectural styles.

Incident Review

May 7, 2011 probably started just like any other day for Rice University Police Department (RUPD) Officer David Sedmak. With 17 years of law enforcement experience under his gun belt, Officer Sedmak surely knew the ups and downs of life on the beat. Yep, just a regular day – at least until he heard the call crackling through his radio, “Officer down! Officer down!”

Just minutes away, Fernando Meza, a sharp-eyed Houston Police Department officer working an off-duty jobbie at the local Greyhound bus station, spotted a man with a gun trying to purchase a ticket. Officer Meza took action and things went downhill from there. The man opened fire striking Officer Meza in the hand. Meza managed to squeeze off a few rounds of his own and then the chase was on. The gunman fled to a fast food restaurant and again exchanged gunfire with officers, this time shooting Houston PD Officer Timothy Moore in the leg. Panic tones went off across the city.

Hearing the call, Officer Sedmak adjusted his pucker factor and probably thought to himself, “Where bullets are flying, there shall I be.” Sedmak then did what any good Sheepdog would do, he ran towards the danger in aid of his fellow brothers. Officer Sedmak left the campus of Rice University and set up on the perimeter around the gunman. HPD officers took cover behind Officer Sedmak’s patrol vehicle while they tried to reason with the bad guy. The standoff ended with the gunman taking his own life.

Back to School

A standoff with an armed gunman can take a lot out of a guy. This is especially true in the Texas heat and when you know that the bad guy has already taken out two of your own. Surely at the end of the ordeal, Officer Sedmak enjoyed getting back into his “air conditioned mobile office” and heading back to his campus.

Most agencies would probably spend three or four dollars on a piece of aluminum to pin on this guy’s shirt, print out a certificate of some short, or at least deliver a well deserved pat on the back. Our hero, on the other hand, got a different reception. A month after the incident his leadership, and I use the term loosely, informed him that he was fired! How’s that for an at-a-boy?

According to the brass, when Officer Sedmak left the campus he failed to notify his supervisor and dispatch of his actions. He also left the campus with “only two other officers” on duty. Apparently no one knew where he was for nearly an hour. Rice University would later say that he was fired for “dereliction of duty.” According to reports, Sedmak had to turn over his gun and was sent home dressed in his police uniform – UNARMED!

Now I’d love to know the background of the brainiac that made this decision. I take issue with Rear Echelon M-F’ers that like to play Monday Morning Quaterback. Ever spent any time on a college campus on a Saturday? It deader than the wacky-tabacky laced brain cells that were suffocated next to the bonfire the night before. Besides, it’s not like the entire campus was devoid of any protection. There were two other uniforms on duty. And as far as Sedmak being out of the loop for an hour, well that is about as short as a standoff can get.

The Aftermath

The story hit news channels and spread like wildfire. Sedmak kept it classy stating “My only concern on that day was to render aid to these two officers,” he said. Law Enforcement organizations around the state condemned the actions of Rice University. In fact, the Houston Police Department’s Police Union presented Sedmak with a check for $2500. They called him a hero and hoped that the cash could help him and his family cover his bills until he found another job.

Rice University found themselves in a media shit storm. According to their policy the university doesn’t respond to questions of personnel issues, but they apparently felt the need do a little damage control, which is why we have such brilliant quotes of how Officer Sedmak’s “actions did not support the missions of the university” and of how his leaving “could have endangered the safety of our students and campus.”

Really? Because Rice University officers assist the Houston Police Department on a regular basis on calls for service and investigations. These calls probably tend to involve an underage beer-fest, but what better call to assist with than to save the life of another?

It All Boils Down to This

Did Sedmak break policy or protocol? Well, sure sounds like it. Does it matter in the grand scheme of things? Hell nah! A real leader would hug him for making it out safe, tell him what he may have done wrong and how to fix it, award him for his valor, then get the hell out of his way and let him do his job!

Perhaps the real questions here should be “Why didn’t the other two officers go?” Was it because they were already aware of the tone set by their supervision? Or was it because at the moment of truth they froze? Either way, how is the university gonna fix that?

In conclusion, I’d like to make an official request that Rice University change their name – maybe to Rice College? They simply are unbecoming and undeserving of the RU acronym, seeing how only one member of their staff knew anything about how to Ranger Up – and they’ve pushed him away.

My good friends Reed and Karin, the marryees on this festive occasion, had done a phenomenal job planning this event and each bar was outfitted with their favorite drinks throughout their three year relationship. The bartender recommended a little concoction called “Virginia is for Lovers”. It had gin, pomegranate juice, and some other fruity stuff that I normally wouldn’t order, but hey, one girly drink wouldn’t hurt.

At this point, it is probably important to mention that I was standing next to a former West Point football player from the Class of 95 whom I had just met on the shuttle ride from the hotel over to the reception, along with two friends I hadn’t seen in a while that not unlike me, are total assclowns. Respectively, we’ll call them Skullcrusher, Tomfoolery, and Hijinks. The shuttle ride was one hour and Reed and Karin, great hosts that they are, outfitted the shuttle with several coolers of Sports Beverages, known to the layman as Bud Light. Even though we had never met each other, the classic military posturing began, and in short order, Skullcrusher, Tomfoolery, Hijinks and I had emptied the coolers. There may or may not have been a shotgunning involved…

Come to find out, girly drink or no, Virginia is for Lovers is a delicious beverage. We got another round.

The part my friend Amy from Just Barely thinks I should have cut…

The line was long, which was somewhat aggravating; so when we arrived at the front of the line, I handed the bartender a $20 tip, despite there being no tip jar. He handed us four pilsner glasses in place of the mini-martini glasses and filled each giant glass with Virginia is for Lovers. Now we were getting somewhere.

Tomfoolery decided to go all Ashton Kutcher Commercial out on us, and started stealing digital cameras from the tables and taking pictures of people’s butts and groins – thankfully still wearing clothes (for once).

Unfortunately, in one scenario the folks returned to their table and he saw no way to return it. I Rangered Up and grabbed the camera, bent down behind the table for a moment, then stood and asked “Does this belong to anyone?”

They were happy. I was a hero.

We were now in with the bartender and Virginia is for Lovers flowed like wine…or water…or like Virginia is for Lovers. They all have basically the same viscosity, so just pick your simile.

Aside, aside (heh, heh) – we’re drunk.

The Dance Floor Opens Up

I’m not a dancer. You will never see me on “So you think you can dance?” I cannot. That being said, I did spend 3.5 years of my life living in Germany with some of the craziest dudes you will ever meet, and we actually created some “routines” over there to 1) impress the Fraulines and more importantly 2) amuse ourselves. As such, I have a bit of a penchant for break dancing.

But I’m older now…more mature…not a twenty-something wet-behind-the-ears infantryman anymore. I was going to hold back…until…

Michael Jackson’s Thriller came on.

I knew then what man has known, ever since the sands of time have sifted through the hour glass…or at least since 1983…Not unlike the Rhythm, The Thriller is gonna get ya…

Every fiber of my being said, “It’s GO TIME.” But still, I held back…a voice inside of me said, “Maybe this isn’t the time to show everyone what you’re made of…maybe, and I’m going out on a limb here, just once, you need to not be an attention whore.”

Then they got me: Skullcrusher called me out. Tomfoolery told me I was scared. And Hijinks took to the dance floor, casually telling me over his shoulder he was probably better anyway.

I had no options left.

GO TIME

When I say I can smoke Thriller, I mean it. What I did not expect was that Hijinks was equally skilled. We played off each other so well that they cleared the dance floor and the entire wedding was in a circle around us. This upped the ante. He’d do a move. I’d do a move. Each one had to be more spectacular than the previous one. His rhythm was a smidge better – I had to go with acrobatics. I did a bunch of drop downs, leg claps, etc. – all the basics, and he followed suit with moves of his own. It was time to go for the kill shot – to show Hijinks who the real zombie was.

Aerial Split. Flawless. 

Floor slide. Crowd pleaser. 

Backspin. Laughter. 

Layout. Clapping. 

Popup. Hijinks knows victory is mine. 

Closing split. I get a grade 2 hamstring tear. 

This is probably the part where you ask, “Nick…did you just say that you got a Grade 2 Hamstring Tear while break dancing at a wedding?” And the answer is that is exactly what I just said. I’ve jumped out of planes, road marched, fought in every kind of martial art you can think of, lifted a stupid amount of heavy weights, played almost every sport, and nary a hamstring pull – never mind a tear, but on June 7th, all of that would change.

Come to find out, when one of the largest muscles in your body tears apart, it smarts a bit. My first instinct was to writhe in pain on the ground, but then I thought, “What? And lose to Hijinks?” Instead, I tried to pop up. When I (quickly) realized that I did not have the hamstring strength to get up, I did a back somersault and hopped up on my left leg and finished the song.

Before you ask:

1) Yes, it made my injury worse, but I won.

2) No, it was not an actual competition, but I make everything a competition.

3) If you think it is silly to complicate a major injury in order to win a wedding dance competition that isn’t really a competition, you clearly have never met me.

So, how did it end?

As I hid my limp coming off the dance floor, I received many a pat on the back. I walked past a table with a few over-60 couples, and was asked point blank if I was a professional dancer. I replied, “Yes, ma’am. Yes I am.”

Weekend Synopsis:

Act like a teenager at a black tie wedding? Check. 

Abuse alcohol? Check. 

Receive a personal thank you from the photographer? Check. 

Told “Thanks for coming and being you” from bride and groom? Check. 

Lied to senior citizens about actual profession? Check. 

Tore major and essential muscle group for no good reason? Check. 

Walked two miles to the famous Arlington International House of Pancakes anyway? Check. 

I nominate, second, and formally send myself to Douchebagistan. I’ll be there for at least 6 weeks while I rehab.

Copyright of Nick