The Adventures of Tom Cathey: Episode XIII--Self-Made Divas and the Rise of the Douchebags

When you're sharing a bathroom with a 26-year-old dude whose bedroom smelled like Nick Nolte's breath after a DWI arrest, you start to re-think your place in the world.

I was 25 and single, with three roommates; two of which were a fiance-future groom combo and the aforementioned smelly-guy. Something had to give. I'd spent the better part of two years trying to remake myself into everything Maxim told me I needed to be to Dean Martin with chicks.

For starters, I worked out way too much and flamed 200 bucks a month of supplements that the FDA wouldn't approve with a bag full of lobbyist blood-money. Carbs were the plague, and I consumed so much protein my colon excreted an odor that should've been used as an interrogation tactic at Gitmo.

Magazines and websites told me what I needed to wear, and somehow they convinced me that it was socially acceptable to shave my entire body and moisturize with products 'for men.' I stopped short of joining a tanning bed or fake tanning at home. I did, however, purchase at-home teeth whitening kits in bulk. What I didn't realize, however, is what I was becoming.

I was at the forefront of the Douchebag Movement, which hit its peak in the years 2005-2008. To be a card-carrying, uniform-sporting douchebag, the following was required:

1. Obesession over phyisical appearance (six-pack abs, being 'ripped')
2. Interest in 'designer' clothes by clothing companies not made for men (Coach, BCBG, Lucky Jeans, Prada, Gucci, etc.)
3. Excessive use of hair product (purchased at salons only)
4. Trucker hats (worn to the side, or 'crooked.')
5. Popped collars (self-explanatory)
6. Enjoyment of the bands, 311, Nickelback, as well as an interest in the 'Texas Country' movement
7. Low-carb Beer
8. Pointy-shoes (you know the ones, the leather shoes that look three inches too long with the toes curled up at the end)
9. Stocking caps or beanies, worn in the middle of Summer when it's 100 degrees outside

In 2006, I was a douchebag. A soppy, soaking, dyed-in-estrogen douchebag. My hair was spiked and glistening, my too-tight long-sleeved shirt's sleeves were rolled-up and my teeth were whiter than a line of Lindsay Lohan's coke hit. Every weekend I spent hours in dubious bars, surveying 'the scene' with dozens of other douchebags that looked exactly like me. We all competed for the same vacuous, delusional wannabe chicks who thought themselves Houston-incarnations of the 'Sex and the City' tramps.

During my douchebag-run, I didn't have too much success in the dating realm. There were a few bingos, but not many. Sometimes I didn't get it. Sometimes I didn't understand what made the other douchebags a better douchebag than I was. For the life of me I couldn't figure it out. What I needed was a slump-buster, a sure-thing, an ace in the hole. What I got, was the Self-Made Diva.

The Self-Made Diva (SMD going forward) was a fairly-attractive, young, self-centered, egotistical spoiled brat who got everything she wanted. Her parents were blue collar, living in a modest home on the outskirts of suburban Houston. The made middle-class money and drove middle-class cars, and on the weekends they danced at country bars with sawdust on the floor. The SMD was an only child of average intelligence and above-average looks. She thought she was Beyonce; the white-Beyonce.

I began dating the SMD in the summer of 2006, and I went full-throttle. At first it was fun, a new hobby instead of the same-old crap. I plotted fancy dinners and fun events, while pushing my body in the gym. And the SMD was pretty solid, I'd say a 7.5 on the famed ten-scale (others would say she was a 8.0 or so). If you could imagine the most shallow, self-absorbed materliastic woman in the world, take that imagery and multiply it by 20. This chick was the worst I'd ever seen.

For starters, she had a little toy dog named, 'Gucci'. I shit you not. Not only was the dog named, Gucci, but she also carried a $2,000 Gucci bag. And you better freaking believe that Gucci was carried in the Gucci bag. Yeah, it actually happens outside of 'Legally Blond.' By the way, that was her favorite movie. Number two? You guessed it; 'Legally Blond 2'.

She wore only $200 jeans, and $500 Jimmy Chus (women's shoes) were the norm. I was actually in the store with her when she bought the Paris Hilton album. She looked-up to Kim Kardashian, Coco Chanel and that skank that divorced Reverend Run. And as stomach-churning as I knew she was, I didn't care. You want to know why I didn't
care? Because she was hot. That's where my priorities rested; hotness.

Our relationship moved into October, and even though she was an idiot, I was pretty content. She was away at school during the week, which allowed me time to relax and get away from her. I was only dealing with SMD on the weekends. Now, the SMD refused to to pay for anything. She stated up front that she wasn't going to pay for dinner, movies, coffee, gifts...nothing. And I didn't care because she was hot. Then Halloween came.

SMD's work friends were having a party in a bad part of town in Houston. It was in the part of Houston where hoodlum rides a bicycle where the handle bars scoop way out so that other hoodlums can ride on the handle bars. It's like the movie, "Baby Boy" starring Tyrese and Snoop Dogg. It was pretty scary.

SMD was such a financial burden that I couldn't afford to roll with a tight costume. Instead I went as Neo (Matrix) for the second year in a row. SMD? She went as a 'Gold Digger.' What does a 'Gold Digger' costume look like? It looks like this:

Please Note: SMD was not even close to this hot. This kind of hot is like on a different scale of hot, an abnormal, 99.9 percent-of-the-world-can't-compete-for- this kind of hot.



Now, I wasn't okay with SMD wearing this, but it wasn't a deal breaker. When she took a picture of herself bending down and thrusting a golden shovel into my wallet (my actual, honest-to-goodness wallet), the deal was broken. At that moment, I began to plot an exit strategy. That strategy dragged on way longer than it needed to.

It was Christmastime, and I still hadn't dumped the SMD. I didn't really like her all that much, and her obnoxious materialism wasn't as novel as it once was. And since I'd been unable to dump the poor snob, I was saddled with a Christmas gift purchase. What did SMD want for Christmas? SMD wanted at $2,500, diamond-encrusted Tiffany necklace. When I promptly told her she was out of her f*&^ing mind, she lost it and began screaming at me.

"You've ruined Christmas for me!" she said, her MAC lipstick flying from her lips.

Eventually she calmed down, and out of the kindness of her heart she went to the mall and picked out $600 worth of jewelry.

"I'm saving you almost $2,000," she said.

And not only did she select her Christmas gifts, she obtained the sales person's card and told the salesperson, "he'll be in later." So when she told me of her actions and gave me the card, do you know what I did? Can you even guess what I did to this pompous wretch? Yeah, that's right; I went straight the mall and bought the damned jewelry. All of this for a person I hated more than reality shows about midgets.

My exit strategy had spilled into 2007, and after Valentine's Day I wasn't any closer to breaking-up with SMD. My inability to man-up and do the deed had cost me $2,000 in additional gifts/restaurant bills. Something needed to give, but the future looked pretty damned bleak. Then out of the blue, like a miracle kissed from the lips of God, I had my opening.

Now, I'm a smartass by trade, which surprises no one. So one day after I made a joke about the size of her ankles (I know it's pretty tacky, but you have to remember, I didn't give two craps about her emotions) she refused to go to an evening wedding shower with me. THEN, she sent me an email saying, "You need to decide what you want. We can go two ways. 1. We can talk through this and resume or relationship. 2. We can go our separate ways." It was a miracle! She actually brought up the possibility of a break-up!

So later that night after the shower, I came home after a night of macking on this older chick. She was digging me, which helped to convince me that I still had decent-enough game to bag a woman somewhere down the line. The hit was finally and mercifully put out on SMD. Now, how to carry out the kill.

I didn't have much experience dumping women. I did know that there were three options:

1. The In-Person

Considered the most difficult to pull-off, but definitely the most honorable. This sit-down style is typically carried out in a public forum where screaming/throwing of objects are minimized. There's always the risk of tears and possible reconciliation, thus damning one to additional, unwanted weeks of a broken relationship.

2. The Over-The-Phone

Not the best bet, but certainly not the worst. The Over-The-Phone is a live format, which is always nice. You don't have to worry about airborne objects, and at any second you can hang-up and end the conversation. Still, it's kind of weak and spineless, but at least you're giving the dumpee the courtesy of a real human voice.

3. The Electronic

If you're a complete spineless, weak, gutless coward, than this method is for you. You're given a lot of different formats here. It's basically anything online or text messaging. Facebook, Myspace, text message, email...you name it, it's yours. Here you can say it, edit it, re-edit it and get it out without fear of reprisal. That's a plus. However, you are a complete tool to go this route, and probably a bad person.

So which did I choose? If you guessed The Electronic, then you are correct. I hammered that email, and right before I got ready to send it I deleted my Myspace. Why did I do this? For starters, I was friends with all of her friends, and there were just too many damned pictures of her to delete. Plus I didn't want to have to put up with all of the, "What happened?" comments from everybody. That's what I do when things get tough. I run away and hideout until the coast is clear. And yes, I'm a spineless tool.

With my Myspace account deleted I sent the email, and I never heard from her again. She did, however, get in a parting shot. One day while sitting at home (lonely, of course), I checked out her Myspace account. SMD had embedded a YouTube clip from "Sex in the City." It's apparently some famous clip about a guy who breaks-up with Carrie via a Post-It Note. I actually laughed. The SMD had gotten in a shot. Hell, I deserved it for resorting to The Electronic. And in the end I couldn't have cared less. I was rid of her, Gucci, and designer clothes. Oh, and her fat ankles.

2009 Resolution

The holidays are winding down, and it's only a few hours before 2010 is upon us. Wait, isn't it time for a Space Odyssey?

Every year I make my own resolutions. I think about them the week after Christmas, and ponder what it is I want to accomplish in the coming year. I keep those, private, though; you know, like the hidden Tiger Woods videos soon to be released?

So my resolution, to the social-networking galaxy, is to have no more boring blogs about how little time I have and how hard it is to write books.

There.

Until next time...

"So this is Christmas..."

So Christmas is already over, and march toward a blazing hot summer and a Spring purgatory of bland Sunday sports viewing is on. The build-up toward the 'Most Wonderful Time of the Year" is epic, almost mind-blowing. Now that it's over, it's almost, "Now what?"

Christmas, however, was pretty special. I didn't spend it with my Mom, Dad and sister as is the typical tradition, but instead with my wife and her family. It was year two of the 'alternating' format, where we spend the 'big ones' (Thanksgiving, Christmas) with different families. This year, Christmas was with my wife's family, and I've got to admit that it's a lot more fun to crash than to host. But my wife and I hosted two Christmases (one with my family last weekend) to some critical acclaim, and we notched a few bars of hosting-experience that will undoubtedly aid us in future excursions.


Christmas Eve was special. It was just the two of us, with plates of food and sweets in our gameroom running the gamut of holiday film favorites.

1. How the Grinch Stole Christmas
2. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer
3. Simpson's Christmas (five episodes)
4. A Christmas Story
5. The Santa Clause
6. The Santa Clause 2
7. National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
8. It's a Wonderful Life (Spectacular on Blu-Ray)

Of course, don't forget the egg-nog and seasonal beer. Christmas was wonderful.



Christmas and its break allowed me to rest now that all of the holiday work is done. For the first time since I can remember, we just sat around the house yesterday. There was no baby-registering, buying stuff for the house or shopping for groceries. It was sheer relaxation. I got at least seven hours of sleep two nights in a row for the first time in months. But work comes back tomorrow, and work sucks. The commute blows, and I'm reaching my wit's end with it. I did some rough calculations; on this track, I'll have spent 28 days of 2009 in a car driving to and from work.

The Christmas holiday did allow me some much needed time to get back to work on the books. My peak time for writing is first thing in the morning with a fresh pot of coffee. With the buzz coursing through my veins, I'm able to pound at the keyboard for hours. Any other time I'm spotty, especially with this 're-writing' garbage. Once football season ends (my addiction), there will be a lot more time on the weekends.

So honestly, who gives a damn about the Girl Next Door and resident skank, Kendra Wilkenson or whatever the hell her name is? What's she famous for? Being a skank? The same goes for Kardashian, Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton; you are famous for what? You are famous for being rich/skanky. And you know what? America eats it up, I mean absolutely eats it up. Every time I see a reality show focusing on a celebrity's life, I want to vomit blood. And as stupid as American Idol and Dancing with the Stars and Sing Off are, at least those shows are chronicling the every day minutia of celebrites' lives. At least there's some competition between everyday people (sorry America, Joey Lawerence is no longer better than me. Actually, that ship sailed right after his guest-starring run on the WB classic, "Half & Half) doing something that I can't do.

Who wants to watch Kate Gosselin and her ugly as sin ex-husband squabble over who siphoned $80 grand out of the 'reality tv' account? Who wants to watch Tori Spelling's emaciated skeleton plan a $100 thousand party for a one-year-old? Who does? Apparently everybody, because for crying out loud we've got a show about the offspring of the guy who played, 'Renegade'!

Until next time...

"You'll shoot your eye out, kid!"

It's the most wonderful week of the year, because I only have to work two days before two days of feasting and present-opening. And the two days of work? No problem, because the legion of soccer moms that typically clog the highways will be at home making gingerbread houses and buying Legos for snotty-nosed kids. So all-in-all, the week's shaping-up to be extremely positive.

I love Christmas. No, love isn't the right word; maybe it's more of an addiction. I'll line-up the Christmas movies on DVD, fetch some seasonal beverages (fully-loaded egg nog) and bask in the crisp winter air to my heart's content. This Christmas is going to be awesome. I haven't settled on the exact Christmas movie line-up, but I'll narrow it down the day before. One thing that's for certain? Charlie Brown and The Grinch will be slotted in their traditional positions. A Christmas Story will be enjoyed to begin and to end the day's festivities.

The downside of the Christmas, though, is the mall. The mall sucks anyway, with long lines, grumpy people and miles of convoulted parking. My wife has succeeded and in dragging me to the mall for three weekends in a row; it's Dante's third stage of hell. Thankfully, that part is over, for me at least. She'll be braving the crowds on the 23rd to pick-up a few items (including my gift, which is supposedly awesome according to my wife). Then it's off to baby-registry land, and trust me, it's a total cakewalk compared to wedding-registry land. I can't hear the phrase, "charger plate" without gritting my teeth and punching the wall.

My writing hasn't been going too well. Actually it's trickling. At least it hasn't stopped. When I sit down to write at night, I suddenly become exhausted. Like, all-night-missle-watch-at-NORAD-exhausted. The days are really long, and I just want to go to sleep. But then I try to summon my Rocky Balboa-inspired determination and work through the bags under my eyes, which gets a line of incoherent babble that streams forever after falling asleep with my finger on the trigger. But all is not lost. I mean, I haven't given-up. I guess I'm just moreso disappointed that I haven't gotten further along. In the past I've been critical of myself for watching TV or playing a game instead of working on the books, but now I just need to 'veg out'.

I've been on Facebook for a few weeks now, and it's by no means crack or anything. It is fun to get on and make fun of people, though. The iPhone makes it possible.

My parents came into town over the weekend to celebrate Christmas with Amanda and me. Check out a bit of my haul below. Until next time...

THE Top 10

I've been playing videogames on a consistent basis since 1986, when like 98 percent of the rest of American kids got a Nintendo Entertainment System for Christmas. For over 20 years, some of my greatest triumphs, disappointments and late night adventures (pretty sad, huh?) have occurred with a videogame controller in my hands.

Recently, Game Informer Magazine published their 200th issue, which chronicled their 200 top videogames of all time. Since my gaming 'career' has covered the history of modern gaming, I've decided to publish my personal top 10 of all time.

Criteria are as follows:

1. Amount of time spent playing the game

2. Games that revolutionzed gaming/a specific genre

3. Games that stand the test of time (Still Damned Fun)

One thing I struggled with in compiling this list was the 'sequel' factor. For example: Grand Theft Auto III is one of the most influential games ever made. However, it was a PS2 game that looks like crap on today's high definition displays. Grand Theft Auto IV, released last year for PS3 and XBOX 360 is gorgeous with improved controls, visuals, sound and gameplay over the venerable Grand Theft Auto III. Should GTA III be penalized because it was released nine years ago? For me, each game is ranked taking into consideration it's merits when it was released.




10. Uncharted 2: Among Thieves-Playstation 3



Uncharted 2: Among Thieves is one of the most cinematic, visceral, well-acted, enthralling, exciting; well, you get the picture. Uncharted 2 was released in November 2009 as a PS3 exclusive to tremendous critical acclaim. This game nails the cinematic-feel unlike any franchise in gaming history. The progtagonist, Nathan Drake, is a cool, likeable guy you'd like to have a beer with and pick-up a chick or two. And he's damned funny. For every second of the games 12-hour main story you're on the edge of your seat, with twists and turns better than most Hollywood efforts. The voicecast nails the ensemble feel of a motion picture, and leaves everyone wanting Uncharted 3 to have come out yesterday. Toss in the best visuals in a game to date, along with a cinematic score and hilarious commercials, you've got THE reason to own a PS3.


9. Super Mario 64-Nintendo 64



Oh, good 'ole Nintendo. I still don't know if they've figured out how to launch a videogame console. When the long-delayed Nintendo 64 launched in 1996, the system launched with two, that's right, two titles. One of those was the neat but boring Pilotwings 64. The other title marked the much anticipated return of the most recognizable gaming mascot in the world, Mario. Thank God. Super Mario 64 revolutionized videogames as the first truly 3D platforming title to integrate a questing mechanic with the flavor of the beloved franchise in an exciting way. I played through the 40-hour main quest three times, and the final boss battle with Bowser remains one of the neatest moments in the history of videogames. Mario 64 made every other action/adventure/platforming game on the market today possible.


8. Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic-XBOX, PC



I love Star Wars. It's one of the finest and most successful concepts ever imagined. But by God, George Lucas, what the hell? Jar Jar Binks single-handedly ruined the film franchise along with wooden dialogue and more plot holes than The Last Action Hero. KOTOR was a revival for RPGs, and it pulled Star Wars on television screens out of a steaming pile of Bantha poo doo.

Bioware created an immersive and expansive universe set thousands of years before the events of Star Wars (the good trilogy), and crafted an action-RPG experience that works still today (Mass Effect, Dragon Age: Origins). KOTOR gave the option of turning to the Dark Side, or walking the path of Yoda on the Light Side. And these decisions were truly difficult. Do I help the poor woman find the parts to fix her landspeeder, or do I cut her head off and steal her money? Tough call. There were two endings and a the greatest plot twist in the history of gaming. The Force is strong with KOTOR.


7. Halo: Combat Evolved-XBOX



When I picked-up my XBOX Launch Bundle at Kay Bee toys, I couldn't have been more disappointed. Afterall, XBOX exclusive Obi-Wan, a 3D action game set in the Star Wars prequel universe was delayed and the only three games that looked worth a damn were Dead or Alive 3, Oddworld and Halo. That morning before classes at Tomball College, I popped in Halo after a good review on IGN.com. Then I never looked back.

Bungie took Rare's Goldeneye formula and turned it up 1,000 degrees. A console split screen campaign? Networked multiplayer with up to 16 players? A cool sci-fi story with a hot digital escort? The rest is history. Halo's control scheme is mimicked by every shooting game that has been made since. Halo's multiplayer occupied hours upon hours of my life. We were all so obsessed with it that we all braved a Central Texas ice storm when the city was shut down to get a game together at my apartment. Halo is and will always be the standard for shooters, bottom line.

6. Super Mario Bros. 3-NES



When I saw the commericals for 'The Wizard' starring Fred Savage, I almost pooped in my Ninja Turtles Under Roos. In the commericial there was live footage of Super Mario Bros. 3. And what? What was that? Was Mario wearing a Raccoon Suit? Was Mario flying? Holy Crap Mario is flying!

That was my reaction. Super Mario Bros. 3 took platforming to new highs. Sure, there still wasn't a story, but there were mini-games like Memory and a fast-moving shape line-up thingy. With a variety of new suits and unique vertical level designs, Mario 3 is a classic that has legs even today. The Wii Virtual Console has sold over 1 million copies of Mario 3 alone. My wife and I still waste hours running through as both Mario and Luigi only to get owned in Level 5. Super Mario Bros. 3; still freaking awesome.

5. The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion-XBOX 360, PS3, PC



Elder Scrolls IV was supposed to be one of the must have titles of the 20-odd-something games that hit with the launch of the XBOX 360. After it was delayed, we were all stuck with Perfect Dark Zero (ruined developer Rare forever), King Kong (crappy movie, crappier game) and Kameo (huh?). But after five months of additional development, Oblivion hit store shelves (prompting Dan Starr and I both to re-buy XBOX 360 consoles two months after selling them). It was well-worth the re-purchase. From the second I heard the silky stylings of Patrick Stewart, I knew we were in for a ride. I sunk over 140 hours into this game over two years of play time. Right now I could turn off the computer and fire-up the XBOX for another 20 hours. It's that good. Branching side-quests, a cool main quest and a sweet soundtrack (humming it right now, matter of fact) make this game stand out above the rest. My buddy Dan and I still relive our adventures in Tamriel through song and drink; hurry-up, Betheseda. Where in the hell is Elder Scrolls V?

4. The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time-Nintendo 64




When my mother allowed me to open Ocarina a month before Christmas, my friend (Zach Stinnett) and I played it for 8 consecutive hours. When all-time great developer Shigeru Miyamoto was allowed to expand into the third dimension, he re-invented the wheel. Hyrule burst to life in vivid color, with vast fields of classic monsters and beasts to the tune of past musical themes. A time-travel element accompanied by catchy tunes explored the grown-up themes of aging as Link glimpsed into the future to see his adult self. Winding quests, unique characters and the introduction of Link's horse, Epona, created a one-of-a-kind experience. Ocarina is a gaming masterpiece that still enjoys a fantastic shelf life today.

3. Grand Theft Auto: III-Playstation 2




Hard to believe it, but this game snuck-up on me. A week before its release I caught wind of it through a friend. Per his recommendation, I took advantage of Toys R Us' buy 2 get one free deal (a tradition to this day) by picking up NHL Hitz 2002, Batman: Vengeance and GTA III. What ensued was a twelve-hour play session and the missing of an important specch in Personal Communication. For the next two months, I lived GTA: III. I played it so much I dreamed about it every night. What GTA: III did was create a new genre of games, now called 'Sandbox' games. You were given a living, breathing world, complete with pedestrians, businessmen, housewives, hookers, skyscrapers, slums...you name it. You could go anywhere and do almost anything (except swim). Who didn't enjoy the services of a working woman, then shoot her in the face with a shotgun and get your money back? GTA's seedy underside, adult language and themes pushed the envelope and brought uptight soccer moms out of the woodwork to complain about something new. Every game since has borrowed from GTA in some form or fashion, and frankly the world is a better place for it.

2. Mike Tyson's Punchout-NES



Looking back on that Christmas season of 1986, I can't believe I still didn't get it. My Aunt Debbie gave me both Mike Tyson's Punchout and Bases Loaded for NES and I didn't even have an NES. And yet, I didn't get that I was getting an NES for Christmas. But when Santa did deliver on Christmas day, I dove right into the arcadey-goodness of Punchout. The creative character design and funny music quickly made it a fan favorite. Matter of fact, my Dad was the first 'kid' on the block to figure out Bald Bull's Bull Punch. Where the old man left off, I picked-up. A short while later I climed through Soda Popinksi, The Sandman and Super Macho Man to face Mike Tyson himself. At the age of five I defeated Mike Tyson over, and over and over. I love this game and it's catch soundtrack. Little Mac's pink jogging suit still rocks.

Someone hand me an NES paddle, and I'll enter 007-373-5963 at the title screen and lay a fat (probably TKO) knockdown on Iron Mike. It's my best drunken party feat.


1. Metal Gear: Solid-Playstation (PSX)



It was 1998. Solid Snake emerged from the frigid waters outside of Shadow Moses and overheard Liquid Snake as he ascended up a freight elevator into the Shadow Moses complex. I was given control of Snake. Two patrolmen walked about the exterior and I held my breath before moving Snake toward a corner. My buddy Martin and I began to talk as I crept closer to my prey. Then it hit me; we were whispering to each other. Our voices couldn't disturb the, uh....TV.

For the first time in my gaming life I had become so immersed in the suspense of a game's atmosphere. The cinematic cutscenes and voice acting (though cheesy, admittedly) made games like Uncharted possible. The unforgettable cast of villains and cool quirks (what's on your memory card) were icing on the cake. Plus when you died, Richard Cren...I mean, Col. Campbell yelled, "Snake? SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!"

In all honesty, the Metal Gear saga has struck a primordial chord that remains with me today. Last year when Solid Snake's story in the saga wrapped, I cried (yes, actual tears) as this ficticious hero made his way to his demise. That's the true measure of a game. What makes you feel the hero's pain, the hero's quest? Metal Gear: Solid: The greatest game of all time.

'Hey, It's Tiger..."

Whew, what a weekend.

Friday featured snow and me working until 9 p.m., which was absolutely terrible. Then Saturday I ran in and out of the mall and everywhere else. My wife and I did do a lot of our baby registering, which was not near as terrible as registering for our wedding.

To this day my wife and I still can't talk about the wedding without shuddering with a sickening feeling. It consumed everything, and transformed us all into surly jackasses hellbent on the search for misery. Those who I've let read pieces of, "The Plunge" either revel or quiver upon hearing what I went through. This past week I got to sit down a few evenings and work through some of the early chapters I hadn't visited in awhile. I'm pretty optimistic about getting through it in short order. After this week, work will slow down significantly and I'll get home earlier instead of at 7:45 p.m. Then it's a pot of coffee and a pocket full of dreams.

So, I've finally caved and created both Facebook and Twitter accounts. The iPhone just makes it too easy, and I decided I'd swallow my antisocial ways and self-promote some. If you haven't already, please look me up at:

www.twitter.com/tomcathey2

There's a link to my Facebook on the right side of the blog.

Most of my friends know that I'm a huge Tiger Woods fan, and I've been getting a lot of questions pertaining to Tiger's 'dalliances' and whether or not it affects my 'fan ship.' Well let me know say that no, it does not. I'm able to separate the preparation, skill and determination that he puts in to be the best in the world at what he does. I'm not so certain I'd work so hard as a uber-millionaire, but Tiger busts his tail (nice pun) to stay at the top of his game. Let me say though, that I emphatically disapprove of his infidelity. I'd never want my son to know that I was a cheater, and I'd never want the guilt. I know I'd never get over it. That said; c'mon Tiger. Voicemails? Steamy Text Messages? Illicit photos? NOT KEEPING A SEPARATE CELL PHONE? Dude, you're worth like, what, a billion dollars? Have one of your cronies, or Scott Van Pelt run out to Cricket and buy you a pay-as-you-go job for $39.95 per month. And please, if you're gonna cheat, go out in a blaze of glory. Don't put half of your financial worth on the table for a tribal-art-tattooed-tramp that looks like she walked out of 'Mel's Timeout Sports Bar' in Lindale, Texas.

Until Next Time...

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Up until my 82nd minute of this morning's commute, I was feeling pretty damned good about myself.


So here we are, Thanksgiving is gone and already we're knee deep in the Christmas shopping season. Our Christmas trees are up, and we've already begun shopping for our family. I know if I have to make one more trip to the mall on a Saturday I'm going to have to choke someone. People come out of the woodwork at Christmas, man. Have you seen the classic, "Rudolph" claymation bit? Remember the Isle of the Misfit Toys? Well, that's the human equivalent of what crawls out of the woodwork during shopping season. It can get pretty scary.

December has roared in with a bang. It's pouring outside and about 42 degrees. I mean it's nasty. The dog won't even venture out to take a crap that's how bad it is. Now there's talk of snow on Friday. I've got to admit that I get a little giddy when I hear about snow, considering that I've seen it maybe 10 days of my entire adult life. Pathetic, I know.

I've been toying around with the idea of posting pics on the blog and using this venue as more of a facebook/myspace for myself until I get my books rolling. The new iPhone makes it possible for me to do a lot more with this sort of stuff.

The books are still coming along, albeit it really slowly. God willing there won't be any more rewrites.

Until next time...