A friend of mine who nearly never ever writes for this website went to Major League Baseball's Home Run Derby and he had only this to say about the competition: Bring Back Steroids. If you watched the Derby on television I think you'll agree. It was about 7 to 8 hours long and there was only a soupcon of homeruns hit. Regardless, this got me thinking about two things. 1.) Baseball All-Star Weekend needs a skills competition. Might I suggest a game of Run the Bases? Or how about some sort of throwing accuracy game? Better yet, they should put 50 guys in the outfield at once and see who can shags the most fly balls. 2.) I turn 29 on Saturday and before I reach 30 I'd like to achieve my ultimate physical potential. What I'm getting at is, I want to do steroids for 6 months to a year.

Membership, club, or discount cards for your grocery store or drug store are nothing new. They've been around for awhile. What is new, at least to me, is how you are regarded as some sort of jerk or societal outcast if you don't have one. This happened to me yesterday again and I've just about had it.

To bring you up to speed, I'm living in Erdenheim, PA this Summer. I've been here about a month and I'm still trying to get my bearings. One thing I'm still trying to get a handle on is driving to the grocery store and getting more groceries than you can carry home. This is a foreign activity for me. After six years in New York I finally got used to idea that, when shopping at the grocery store (or anywhere for that matter) you can only purchase what you're willing to carry home. Now that I'm back in the suburbs I have to come to the terms with the fact that now I have the ability to fit an adult human corpse in my shopping cart if I so chose. Well, the way I was treated at the check out counter for not producing a Genuardi's Club Card at my local supermarket, Genuardi's, I might as well have had a corpse in my shopping cart.

What were you most looking forward to this weekend?

Oh my stars, there was so much I was looking forward to this weekend, but I guess if I have to decide what I was MOST looking forward to it would probably be sleeping in a bed. You see, I live in my brother's attic in Philadelphia these days but I booked a week of work in New York City. Luckily, I have some gracious and accommodating friends that let me crash on their couches, but nothing compares to the comforts of a bed. Granted, I still haven't slept in my own bed since the night before I put it in a Manhattan Mini-Storage unit in May, but a bed this weekend was nice. Also, getting some action.

According to Rolling Stone Magazine's April cover, Kings of Leon are "America's hottest band" right now. After seeing them live this past Saturday at the Spectrum in Philadelphia, I'd have to agree. Oh, and who does Rolling Stone think they are putting a Rock 'n Roll band, let alone a good band, on their cover? Are people not into The Hills, Britney, or Lindsay Lohan any more? Or worse, do all those people who like that crap like Kings of Leon? Is this good or bad? Shit, I've been known to watch The Hills myself. Am I pop culture puppet whose likes and dislikes are masterfully controlled by the mass media or am I a hip and "with it" guy who uses all the resources that are available to him to decide for himself what is actually worthy art and entertainment? You can't hate on things just because they're popular or you liked them before they got huge. So what if you have to endure 20,000 drunk high school kids and frat boys when you go to see one of your favorite bands? Don't you want them to make money so they can keep making music? Wait a second, this isn't what I wanted to talk about at all. Or is it?

Here I am again to make your life a little better. Those who know me know that I pee a lot. Those who know me also are aware that this should probably limit my alcohol intake due to the process known as diuresis that takes effect when consuming alcohol. It doesn't. Ipso facto, I have to urinate quite often when a restroom, powder room, water closet, toilet, or any other place where it is acceptable for a human to deposit his or her human liquid waste is not available. As someone with a tiny bladder and high metabolic rate, it's a scientific fact that I've urinated 67% more times than the average 28 year-old male. You can rest easy knowing that my expertise comes from an unlucky amount of experience. The following list of tremendously helpful advice that you're about to read with awe and admiration will begin with those moderately desperate situations that we all find ourselves in far too often. Then it'll be time to move onto some Extreme Peeing in Public. Those highly urgent and perilous situations when all hope is seemingly lost. I'm here to tell you that there's never a situation where you can't courteously pee in public, minimize offending your fellow citizens, avoid getting arrested, and keep your dungarees dry. Oh, please note, this is for people that live in cities. If you live in the burbs or the country, you already know you can pee just about anywhere you want. I envy you. For the rest of us left in cities, the weather is getting much nicer and you'll be finding yourself outdoors and without a convenient place to pee much more often in the coming weeks.

This past weekend I, along with some friends that included Steve's Word own Ryan Kennedy and roughly 79,000 strangers, travelled out to Giants' Stadium to witness the US Men's Soccer team take on the #1 World Ranked Argentina Men's Soccer team. Before you dismiss this article as either a drab piece of sports journalism, or even worse, a blog, allow me to quickly put the significance of the game itself into perspective before I deliver the cultural insight that you not only rely on from Steve's Word, but crave like a lion craves a young water buffalo. It was a friendly (exhibition) so the game seemingly held little consequence. However, this would be the last game for both teams before World Cup Qualification begins so both teams would be testing their readiness. Moreover, these men are all professionals and were playing for national pride. The physical intensity of the game and the 79,000 screaming fans were a testament to that. If you truly want the hard facts of the game, read this. Other than offering the most exciting and thrilling 0-0 draw I've ever witnessed, this game provided me with unexpected challenges and eye-opening experiences that only an international soccer game can deliver. Sorry, dudes, seeing plenty of hot, over-primped Argentinean woman was something I did expect so I'll have to omit it from this piece. If you're an observant person, going to an international soccer game will quickly challenge your previously held beliefs of national identity. How? Let me put it this way, the ingredients of beer, sports, bigotry, confusing genetic make-up, and national pride combine for a recipe that offers a swift kick to your American nuts. National Identity is a social construct, but once solidified it is hard to see it as something other than fact. "I'm American and I'm proud even though the fact that I'm America is a total random event and if I were born in any other country I'd be proud of that place too." Going to an international soccer game makes you think about this sort of existential crap.