Welcome to the United States of Sporting Events.

Last night I went to an indoor Lacrosse game, Buffalo Bandits vs. NY Titans. Unfortunately, the Bandits lost even after putting up a great fight. The bigger shock for me was that I completely and thoroughly enjoyed every second of it - this is a shock because I'm usually not a sports kind of guy. Maybe this is because in England for some stupid reasons there are no cheerleaders.

I've only ever been to a few sports games before, and certainly nothing this big or televised. I don't know the rules for Lacrosse, at all. Even after my friend Dan explained a few to me. Although there didn't seem to be that many - clearly evident from the gloriously gladiatorial game play. But I found myself hooked on every second, so much so that I forgot I was holding a pint of beer when the Bandits equalized their second goal in the first quarter, which nearly resulted in me bathing a large number of people in over-priced alcohol during my celebration.

My only real explanation of why I enjoyed it so much was that the U.S. can do sports like nothing else; every part of the game and stadium was geared towards audience satisfaction. I loved it; the huge stadium with its dangerous over hanging balconies, the 100" TV's suspended above centre field, the bright primary colours of the arena building decor the violence inherent in the game itself and of course the cheerleaders.

Now, here's my issue; parents are supposedly worried about their darling little girls becoming objectified and seen as pretty faces rather than real people. And then they let them join a cheerleading squad - admittedly I was disappointed with the decency of the Bandits' cheerleaders but the Titans' girls definitely made up for it, wearing a belt and half a square foot of cloth. There were girls on the Bandits' squad that can't have been more than 8, which was worrying for a whole different reason, but apparently their parents were all for their objectification.

Not that I'm complaining. Certainly not. Except about the 8 year olds.

Back to the issue; the entire experience was thoroughly enjoyable, even for a poor foreigner like me who had no real idea what was going on, despite the explanations of the nearby crowd, especially the blond behind me who believed herself to be too manly. Clearly the girl had never looked in a mirror because she clearly displayed a good example of feminine physicality - so what if she liked beer and sports? That's not really a problem. At least she didn't obsess over shoes.

I enjoyed the experience so much that I got a Bandits' jersey and I'm going again as soon as possible. If I happen to accidentally run into some cheerleaders, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. As long as they aren't 8 years old, as having me run into them could quite possibly lead to serious bodily harm.

Religiously musical

Now before I start, I want to make this clear - I understand there is a time and a place for every type of music. Before I continue, readers should understand this - I am still trying to find a suitable time and/or place for amateur emo lyrics.

My taste in music is far from being beyond criticism; anyone who sits next to me on the bus will tell you I'm probably crazy. Dragonforce/Cascada/ACDC/Lordi/Basshunter/Leonard Cohen isn't an average play list, I know, and it's hard to find something that escapes the title 'indie rock' or 'hip hop' that is in fact not either of these. I am not trying to be non-comformist - to do that apparently I'd have to listen to these genres - I just honestly do not like these genres.

Music is as close to peoples hearts as religion. You tell someone that their favourite artist is about as talented as an epileptic skunk on crack and they'll probably try to burn you - unless their idol is someone like Amy Winehouse who is an epileptic skunk on crack, albeit one with a good singing voice. At least, she had.

My point is that all music is appreciated by some people. Sub-cultures develop for a reason and, although I hate to say it, I'm sure there's a reason for emo music being maintained. Quite why I have yet to discover; if emo's goal in life is hating it so much it drives them to suicide how many of them can there be? Left, I mean. Surely they'll eventually wipe themselves out? Then where will emo bands be?

Maybe it's a global conspiracy. Maybe emo bands sing about almost killing yourselves so that their fan base never actually kills itself and their never left without a job. If that's the case, I cry out to all those emo kids out there who are having their dreams curtailed by their supposed idols: "FIGHT THE POWER! LIVE YOUR DREAM! KILL YOURSELVES!!"

I'm going to go play emo music to my lawn now in the hope it will cut itself. That's about the only useful application i can find. Maybe it would help at hairdressers too.

There's Geese Outside my Window...

Buffalo is a very strange place sometimes. I find myself with periods of nothing to do, sometimes prolonged periods as UB north campus is miles from anywhere. I suppose I could get a bus to south but there's not that much there either really.

The aforementioned geese were a surprise, but not overly interesting. They interrupted my thought train about using the word 'Jedi' as an adjective. It suffers from a lot of prejudice - apparently using that word in public turns you into a huge loser with no life and an abundant knowledge of science-fiction and sci-fi-fantasy - but I still feel that it's an awesome word. Maybe because I am a huge loser with no life and an abundant knowledge of science-fiction and sci-fi-fantasy.

Really it's no more cult-ish than using the word ninja in the same way, but then again that might suffer from the same problems. What would I know about being cool, I write a blog, right?

Saint Patrick came to my rescue, as he often does - surprisingly so for a man who is centuries dead. Celebrating his memory is one of the few occasions where church and state align, even in America - why else would atheists celebrate it? And, by some miracle, St. Paddy hasn't become a victim of the "Hallmark Holiday" branding, even though it's a perfect opportunity. Maybe he has, but people don't care.

Unlike Saint Valentine. I hear people moaning about how awful it is that Saint Valentine's day puts pressure on people to do something romantic. 1) Clearly it doesn't if you're an atheist or part of a non-Christian religion, because it's a Christian (RC) holiday. 2) I may have mentioned this before but Saint Valentine married Christian couples during their time of persecution in the Roman Empire and was martyred for his beliefs. You don't, therefore, have to do something with someone you've been seeing for a few months. His memory should be of lasting love, not transient. 3) It's one smegging day of the year; is it really that much trouble to put the effort in to do something nice or slightly romantic one extra day a year? Or is the mandatory birthday-anniversary-Christmas cycle too much for you? Don't complain about pressure or whatever - especially if you don't have a partner - because it's really not much bother.

Hell, I managed something for my partner last year that cost me a box of candles and a bottle of wine. About twenty pounds. She loved it. It didn't take much effort either really.

And let's face it, everyone's happy to put an extra night of drinking in for Saint Patrick and they do that anywhere between one and seven times a week anyway.

So people, don't get all het up about little things and small worries. Get drunk on Saint Patrick's Day, do something romantic on Saint Valentine's Day and damn well let me use the word "Jedi" as an adjective without judging me. You haters.

I had, like, nine thousand beers man...

Yes, I'm afraid that I have returned not only to the internet but also to a fairly favourite topic of mine; drinking.

How many people hear about these frat kids and sports players who drink over nine thousand beers in one night and don't get hang overs? These people really annoy me. Mainly as they're full of shit.

Firstly, I have to clarify several points here. One frat-beer is actually a can of keystone light. Keystone is not, according to science, considered drinkable. It is mildly alcoholic piss. Also, the cans keystone comes in are less than a pint, which threw my European self for a while.

Now, 10 keystones is still about 8 pints. But having 10 keystones, a shot and then throwing up means that some of those keystones and the shot don't get in your system. The point I'm making here if you count everything that goes down, you have to count everything that comes up. Personally I have never had a hang over after throwing up because a large amount of what i drink is still in my stomach when I puke - although not for long, obviously.

Another difference thing that gets me is when people say they were totally, utterly and remorselessly wasted beyond the ability to think...and then recount the night in perfect detail. Being tipsy, or drunk, is different from being wasted.

Being wasted is pretty much about to collapse. Being wasted is when you wake up and remember having sex with Elisha Cuthbert - then roll over to see a female Andrew Lloyd Webber next to you. Being wasted is forgetting your own name and using your brother's when introducing yourself. Being wasted is being carried home by your two housemates who can barely walk because you can't talk let alone stand up straight. Being wasted is passing out over a toilet bowl because you know you're going to puke while you're unconscious. Being wasted is having to get otehr people to tell you what happened last night, or how you got home. Or having to be carried across a street. Or coming on to a girl with a torn ACL.

Being wasted is not stealing traffic cones. Being wasted is not puking in the snow. Being wasted is not trying a cigarette for the first time. Being wasted is not having a warm fuzzy feeling in your head. That's being tipsy, maybe drunk.

I'm not saying being wasted is a good thing - ideally I try to stay around the drunk or very tipsy stage. Frat kids however exaggerate their drunkenness as part of some macho bullshit that displays their immaturity, not manhood. I actually enjoy drinking good beers, which is why I follow the rule of science and leave keystone well alone whenever possible.

So to all you people going out to get 'totally wasted', remember; if you can talk without slurring, walk home fine and remember everything the next day you failed. I personally will just go out to enjoy myself. I find having half a dozen friends around is better than that rather than over nine thousand beers.

Really fast cars

Life, in it's most basic form, is all about the pursuit (metaphoric, not literal) of really fast cars.

Now bear with me on this one, it takes some explanation. First, let's remove other pursuits; as the great mouse detective, Basil of Baker Street, once plagiarized, "Once you have removed the impossible, all that remains, however improbable, is the possible."

Right, to begin with there's love. Real, true, authentic, whatever. After a good deal of study and research, I have found that it is commonly deduced by the vast majority of people that there are plenty of fish in the sea and love can be found with a variety of people. There is not just one person for each other person; there is no great eugenics plan designed by some over-arching deity. People can be happily in "true" love more than once in their lives with different people. Some might argue that it's not true love if it ends, but that's another story and another blog. Also worth noting is that once you have found your ideal life partner you are done pursuing love, to put it unromantically; objective achieved, mission accomplished, return to base for a long and happy life. Therefore love cannot be the end because it has a finite pursuit.

So love is over-rated as a life long pursuit.

Next is money - first, some might argue but that's not why I'm destroying my soul online today. Money has no limit - you can always earn more, right? And you always need money. However, money in and of itself is not enough, it is just a vehicle to getting what you need in life. As fast as one earns money, one spends it. Hoarding money only gives a person more money. You can't live off money, as a thing, it cannot sustain you and you cannot procreate with it (If you do please do not inform me of this fact, nor how this act is performed). Money is a means to an end, a way of keeping score. It helps make life easy and enjoyable, but it does not achieve this itself. Unless you're Scrouge McDuck.

That's money out the window.

So if money is just used to buy things, the next thing on the list is possessions. Can the things you own make you happy. Undoubtedly, yes. But can they keep you happy? No. You always need new things, better things, and in today's world of consumer-capitalism society is geared towards satisfying this need. People buy the latest in whatever makes them happy as often as they can, and keep until the next one comes out. However, an endless chain of constantly upgrading what you own brings on stress and a need for competition. People die shopping; Black Friday 2008, January Sales every year. Shopping is an evil, endless mistress that is always demanding things from you, more and more, until it rules your life and you shop as often as possible in search of that tiny boost you get when you buy something you actually like. Shopping is like a really selfish and demanding partner, which is possibly why women love it so much.

So shopping and possessions in general are not the answer.

Which leads us to a conclusion that whatever the meaning for life is, it must be enjoyable in and of itself, not have a finite pursuit or search for but conversely must not need to be catered to at constant, short intervals. It must be something you can take pride in, something you can care for yet have a use for. Something you can show off, something unique but also something that can be replaced with a better version eventually.

And it must be fast, loud, powerful and, ideally, red.

Yep. Really fast cars. They have a long life span, provided you care for them - which you should, let's face it - but they can be replaced when a new one that is better in every respect comes out should you wish to replace it. They go fast - ideally, really fast - and make loud noises that silence competition and stir animal feelings within other people. They can be customized to your heart's content to make them completely and wholly yours and yours alone.

And they wont get jealous if you buy another one for another use, other than being awesome. Like trucking the family around.

Really fast cars are the meaning of life. However you reach this conclusion, you will always understand the truth of this. And when all those speeding tickets come through your letterbox and you get charged stupid amounts for your enlightenment, don't fret; instead frame those tickets and hang them on your wall so when your friends come over you can point at them and say, "Look how fast I was going."