Alex McVeigh’s posterous

I came across this fine gentleman at a ceremony I was covering.

If his nickname isn't "Hoss," it's an American tragedy.

After an abolsutely miserable 12-hour day, and an even longer, more miserable weekend to come, it's nice to come home to a couple of half-full cases of beer.

If I was still in college, one of those cases might have been emptied before I went to bed. Alas, tonight, only one ice-cold can of delicious freedom was enough to melt the day's stress away.

You see, this is what's wrong with today's youth. A Nationals blanket (acceptable, because it was at the Nationals game). One kids with a Miami Dolphins jacket and a Yankees hatm, and another with a Green Bay Packers jacket and hat (though at least he's consistent).

What's that? What's the difference between them and me, a fan of the Boston Red Sox, New York Giants and Dallas Mavericks? Uhh.....shut up! That's what!

I've never seen just a rim hanging off of a car. I spent my entire lunch break trying to think of what could have happened to separate a spare tire from its rim.

Any thoughts?

Saturday night, my Virginia Tech Hokies have just laid a monster beatdown on the hated Hurricanes of Miami. It's a rainy night, and I'm walking to a restaurant near the bar to enjoy a pleasent victory dinner with some friends.

Then, tragedy strikes. My sandals that I have had for less than four months, break. More accurately, the thing that connects the webbing to the foot on my right sandal broke.

So I have to spent the rest of the night limping around like a crazy person in the rain. My foot can't really move forward or it will slip out of the sandal, I have to lift it way up.Terrible.

But hey, it's only one night, right?

Wrong. Sandals are my everything. I went to the Nats game the next day, I had to wear shoes. And let's face it, wearing shorts, socks and shoes is super lame, unless your playing sports. So I had to wear some lofers without any socks. That's real comfortable.

Now, when I'm sitting at home after work, having taken off my socks and shoes (and, in the interest of honesty, most likely my pants), what am I to do if I decide to run out to my car, or to the store?

Am I going to put on another pair of socks and shoes? Yeah, cause I have that much time to waste, (/sarcasm).

I love burning through two pairs of socks a day. Putting on a pair of socks that you've worn all day and have to put back on is the seventh cricle of hell in my book, not an option.

Now I don't know what to do. Do I buy a new pair of sandals just in time for winter? Do I go back to my old pair (which were retired after a dog-poop related stepping)?

Decided to try a new beer today while watching the Virginia Tech-Nebraska game, so I tried this one. It was pretty tasty, but a little skunky, which I chalked up to a new beer.

That is, until I read the label on the neck. A spring beer, eh? It's September 19. This beer was probably made in February. No wonder that I bought the last six-pack on the shelf.

Was killing time before covering a story today, and I went to the clothing store to see if there was anything cool.

Well, apparently I can purchase a purple heart for about 40 bucks. I know where I'm doing my Christmas shopping...

The only thing seaparating me from a weekend of cold Miller Lites, football, and a trip to Baltimore for the Red sox game? This little shindig, which is being held for the single soldiers on base.

When they say single soldiers, that means the ones that are 21 or 22, since if you're in the military, you're pretty much married by age 23.

Normally I like hanging out with younger soldiers for a variety of reasons. One, men who aren't married are always more fun. Two, they're usually not as concerned witn promotion, so they'll actually sit around and tell a funny story or dirty joke or two. The cons are that they usually have sleeves of tattoos, and you just can't trust non-NBA players that have those.

But functions like this always remind me of middle school dances. The music is too loud so you can't really carry on a conversation, and nothing exciting happens. it's like going to a club, without any of the stuff that makes a club interesting (e.g. Women, fights, fighting women).

UPDATE: I take it all back. Shortly after taking this photo, I was watching some of the soldiers play volleyball, and I witnessed the most disgusating display of jackassery I've ever seen in my life. It was just a fun, casual game, except for one of them, you would think that a gold medal and a billion dollars was on the line.

This guy was screaming at his own teammates, punting the ball after a lost point (seriously? who does that after age five?), and screaming wuith such animalistic joy after each point that it literally boggled the mind.

A sure sign that you've made it in this business: someone has left your newspaper in the gym locker room and not used it as toilet paper or a sweat rag.

Got a late birthday present from my aunt the other day. This was it.

Uhhh....thanks?

I always appreciate gifts, and hell, if I was a sophomore in college this little device might have come in handy.But right now, I'm not really sure what to do with it.