Some one posted that I should name some of my co-workers as proof that I work here at Metros.. Well on the way to lunch I got on the elevator with Leonardo Gonzalez and Tim St. Clair. on the way back from lunch I passed Leslie Scelin she was on the phone and now Dan Steve is talking to Ernesto Motta in front of his office... The Harrison people just left about an hour agopeople from MLS HQ on 42ST will be talking to Nick in his office.. Metros have been invited to play in a 4 team torney in Honduras slated for november. But it seems Nick want them to pay us some crazy amount of cash for showing up.. plus he wants the host team Olympia to pick up hotel and airfare.
Since these threads aren't about soccer at all at least give us the good gossip, like who's banging who and who got too drunk and puked on Nick at the last Holiday party.
dude, you're an idiot. they are gonna fire your ass... where's the firehudson zombie? i think he just found some new work.
Well I work for the Fire and today I went to lunch with Elizabeth Milla, Trent Sheridan and Rich Monis. I just saw Charles Raycroft talking on the phone with Nike about uniforms for next year. David Quinn just walked by while talking to Emigdio Gamboa, Paul Cadwell and Loida Haffener. Amazing what can do with the internet! The only bad part about my job is the six hour commute!
Peter Nowack, he needed me to answer a few soccer questions for him while he was on his way to a meeting.
Elaine: What's his problem? Stryker: That's Lt. Horowitz, he thinks he's Ethel Merman. ---------- Clerk: Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? So help you God? Soul Brother: Ain't no thang.
The Wrong Week... Steve McCroskey: Looks like I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue! ---- Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit amphetamines. ---- Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit drinking.
Striker: My orders came through. My squadron ships out tomorrow. We're bombing the storage depots at Daiquiri at 1800 hours. We're coming in from the north, below their radar. Elaine: When will you be back? Striker: I can't tell you that. It's classified.
[Thinking to himself.] Ted Striker: I've got to concentrate... [his thoughts echo] concentrate... concentrate... I've got to concentrate... concentrate... concentrate... Hello?... hello... hello... Echo... echo... echo... Pinch hitting for Pedro Borbon... Manny Mota... Mota... Mota...
Buck Murdock: Oh, cut the bleeding heart crap, will ya? We've all got our switches, lights, and knobs to deal with, Striker. I mean, down here there are literally hundreds and thousands of blinking, beeping, and flashing lights, blinking and beeping and flashing - they're *flashing* and they're *beeping*. I can't stand it anymore! They're *blinking* and *beeping* and *flashing*! Why doesn't somebody pull the plug!