You Scratch My Back, I'll Scratch Mine

In some shameless self publicity, I'd like to announce how brilliant I am.

In addition to this very blue blog (in the non-pornographic, more literal sense of the word blue), I also have a white one, based at a website that you may have heard of. (And you can probably go ahead and drop the word "may" from that sentence.) The site is DraftExpress.com, the blog is called BasketBollocks, and the URL is here:

http://www.draftexpress.com/blog/BasketBollocks/

I will write for DraftExpress roughly a couple of times a month, as and when inspiration hits me. The mandate is much the same as it is here - tell bad jokes, talk about whatever, and try not to get sued. However, the contents of this blog will not be repeated on that one, and vice versa. Thus, check them both over 100 times a day to make sure that you don't miss anything.

Gratitude goes to whoever volunteered the suggestion of "BasketBollocks" for this website's name. I'd thank you personally, but you didn't leave your name. So you don't win a prize.

I don't hate to say I told you so

Memphis Grizzlies guard Juan Carlos Navarro has signed a four year cntract with Barcelona.

It shouldn't be a surprise.

The Memphis Grizzlies - faaaaaaaantastic!!!

Baron Davis < Steve Nash < Jessica Alba < Me

You may or may not have heard of the website IBeatYou.com. Perhaps not. I hadn't heard of it until the day I heard about it, either. Nonetheless, there it is, and the premise seems rather simple yet rather awesome - people challenge people to do things. Pointless yet fun things.

One such challenge is The Stare-out challenge, in which competitors are challenged to see how long they can go without blinking. I think we have all played this game at some point in our lives.

Years of playing the Command And Conquer computer game series during my slightly angst-ridden teenage years have accidentally yet beautifully made me into a legend at this rather pointless game. My school years saw random students - who had heard of my reputation in this field - challenge me in the corridor to a spontaneous game, with no preparation on my part, and I won every time. It kind of had that Houdini "I dare you to punch me at any time and I'll be able to take it" feel to it, except that I didn't at any time die from these stare-outs. Not yet, anyway.

This ability was forgotten about as I finally encountered the world of maturity. But while it was forgotten about, it wasn't gone. Roughly a year ago, I found myself one evening with nothing to do [readers note: it's something of a life theme], and decided to time myself to see how long I could go for.

I managed 8 minutes and 46 seconds, without so much as a warm-up. I only stopped for two reasons:

1: I was starting to lose sight in both eyes.
2: Youtube cap their videos at ten minutes. [Readers note: the video is no longer on Youtube, so don't even look.]



I felt proud. I felt like I had achieved something. I hadn't, but I felt like it anyway.

Then, two days ago, I learn of the ibeatyou challenge. It now feels as though I have found my destiny. My life has a purpose, one that it never had before.

Celebrities have partaken in this game, too. The lovely Jessica Alba set out her stall early, and then Steve Nash had his own slightly scary-looking attempt to beat her.






Baron Davis also had a go, but his effort was frankly shite. (His technique is all wrong. Don't hold your eyes shut like that. All it does is making the gradual dying of the pupil even more obvious, and thus even less tolerable. Rookie mistake. This is a champion talking, by the way.)




For reasons I have never figured out (it probably has something to do with the centuries-old technology on which it relies), Youtube videos have never worked on my computer. To watch them, I have always had to steal them and watch them at a later date. (Keepvid.com = a godsend.) This obstacle means that it is damn hard for me to find who the current leader is. As far as I can tell, only one entry so far tops 10 minutes.

If I can do almost 9 minutes without a warm-up, a practice, or with any sense of competition, do you really think I can't go for 15 when I've got the sweet smell of success within my grasp, and the potential adoration of literally dozens of people?

"The hell I can't."




So this is it. An imaginary gauntlet has been thrown down, and imaginary lines in make-believe sand have been made. I will win Jessica Alba's heart, earn Steve Nash's respect, and help Boom Dizzle correct the major flaws in his amateurish stare-out approach. I might even get my own Wikipedia entry, who knows.

Balls to the impending blindness. This is why we have eyes.

Expect updates on this.