About The Authors
Saul
When his flourishing juvenile career in shoplifting came to an untimely end, Saul turned his attention towards other semi-scholastic pursuits such as carousing, revelry, and scheming. After a hideous mistake in scheduling caused him to accidentally graduate college on time, he discovered to his horror that he was now expected to work for a living. Traumatized by this brutal realization, he moved to New York to pretend to go to Columbia, where he quickly became disillusioned and deeply disgusted with the post-collegiate expectations thrust upon him by a relentless and demanding society. After tearing through handfuls of jobs faster than the scratch tickets he frantically purchased in the hopes of attaining a better life, Saul discovered the beauty of borrowing money from the government and leaped happily back into the lukewarm academic pond.
He occupies his time by advocating the expansion of Israel’s borders to encompass the entire Middle East and North African regions and complaining that the college undergrads he oh-so-unsuccessfully hits on seem young enough to be his daughters – a belief refuted by the fact that their mothers would have been even quicker to reject his amorous advances than they are. Having finally found true love with this “golden goose” of a website, Saul has convinced himself that if he complains enough online, then his hair’s treacherous retreat will somehow reverse itself and the doll he has been whittling out of a cake of soap will blossom into a fine young woman of “upstanding morals, virtuous and goodly character, and a marriageable disposition.”
Alex
Polish Jew Scottish Catholic, Alex has acted like a mutt since the day he was born. Hairy, bitter, inquisitive, and territiorial, don’t get too close or he will definitiely hump your leg, or any other part of your body he can mount. Whether it’s cooking dinner or spending his dad’s money, Alex likes to be in charge. Except when it comes to women, where he likes to be led around like a handicapped chimp on his way to be euthanized.
Gabe
Gabriel used to have a birthmark on his neck. And a deviated septum. And all real teeth. All of those, like the curly hairs that used to perch on his mid-to-upper forehead, have disappeared. Is he better now? Arguably no. However, one passion has never changed: Gabe’s intense desire to know every and all bits of information. Whether it’s your mom’s favorite guacamole recipe, Mo Vaughn’s jockstrap size or the length of Mike’s sex drought, no piece of info is too small. And be afraid, not only will he NOT keep your secrets, he’ll tell anyone who will listen (unless they involve him)!
Tim
After being accepted to Columbia on the basis of his massive shoulder muscles, hipsterish attitude, and vigorous activism towards the ‘hip-hop of the water’ – Crewing – Tim of course promptly quit the team so as to better enjoy his Communist roommate’s hand-rolled cigarettes and the Upper West Side’s appreciation of blatantly-fake I.D’s. Tim currently spends his time ice-sculpting, yelling at Gabe, not working on the website that he is co-owner of, and talking for hours each night to his girlfriend about how much fun they’ll have when they see each other over the coming weekend. He used to be good at every activity that had ever been invented, including sketching, sculpting, motorcycling, mandolining, photography, snowboarding, and conducting sexual activities without cum lauding. Having given that up to settle down in the domestic life, Tim confines himself to buying things on Ebay, hating New York, and using his cellphone to take vivid, neo-realistic shots of himself posing in various configurations so as to PictureMail himself into the waiting arms of his love-interest.
March 5th, 2007 at 7:40 pm
i hate that ive become this.
January 6th, 2009 at 6:43 pm
Gentlemen,
I had the sincere pleasure and fortune of stumbling upon your truly innovative website this morning and have since spent the better part of my work day perusing its near-crap-my-pants quality content. I’ve gotta say, I don’t remember being so stopped in my tracks by a product of the Hanover school system since when I first caught a glimpse of the specific measurements of the teacher who would be instructing us in 8th grade French, or at least since Alex fist pumped in the face of a poor Goffstown soul after stuffing him on a PK, BUT WHILE THE PLAY CONTINUED ON AROUND HIM.
Where else could I keep up on the life of one navigating into the medical field while still maintaining his dream of becoming an extra in Boogie Nights 2; or keep tabs on the late-night but vigorous masturbation sessions of some clearly frustrated and possibly confused individuals before crying themselves to sleep, and thus presenting an even sadder picture than I do when I can’t help but get all weepy every time I watch the end of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles (when Del, Director of Sales, American Light and Fixture, shower curtain ring division, and also the man of a classic mustache, grips his hat…gah); or learn that at least someone is living my dream of exploring the Asian Pacific beyond just a monthlong excursion, though even my own limited time did at least teach me that a ping pong show is not as romantic as it might sound; or generally just appreciate that my fellow ‘01ers are all in good enough health, while clearly enjoying far better spirits. And all this while picking up tips on rebalancing my portfolio!
My one regret is that I’m about six years late for the Moustache March, as my blue-dyed Van Dyke and full head of hair I feel could have been a worthwhile contribution, unless of course I would have been disqualified for including the far less classy addition of a goatee.
Nonetheless, your strong work here has led me to reflect on some fond memories, some of which may already have been echoed somewhere in the database, but others that perhaps could elicit yet another chin-strokingly good gaze into our shared moments passed.
Sticking with sports for a moment, how could we ever forget how we ran the table at the 1992 RAHA Invitational, only to become an eerily similar Bantam White team that needed about three games at the start of the season to even score a goal, and that tally came off the stick of a player who still sported a helmet that, as Dave keenly observed, shared a striking resemblance to that worn by the probably brain damaged organist in Slap Shot (complete with ear flaps)? And of course we did have a shot at the title that fateful day at the Whitt, but alas we were left to sing and drink away our sorrows at the Sutton household, or in my case, capture the gala on film and use snow to wash away the puke streaming into Rip Rd.
At least there was the glory that was Marauder soccer. Five straight wins in four years over Swegan, admittedly one of the few other schools in the state whose kids could probably routinely afford fancy new cleats and overpriced summer soccer camps. And of course back-to-back titles, though I hear Grabill’s boys need just one for the thumb…good grief.
In the classroom, there was the bizarre occurrence of Mr. Galton seemingly seeking our encouragement to flash us when he felt it only fitting to wear a bathrobe to school at the start of the MLB season. Mr. Lelchuk, I believe, was there, at least in some mental capacity. And there was also the mysterious habit of my Latin homework to disappear from my locker each day during 6th period, only to magically reappear minutes before I came to retrieve it for 7th. I can still see Tim’s bemused expression as he leaned back in his chair, laced his hands behind his head, and watched as the culprits squirmed uneasily as I strolled into Guidance.
Well, as the bell is about ready to sound and I have effectively dithered away the day, I shall quit my ramblings and sign off. But again, strong work, my friends, very strong.
January 7th, 2009 at 12:37 am
Best comment we’ve ever received.
GERS!
I stuffed that kid, and then made the second save too while I was yelling in his face.
Thanks for heading that ball out of the net away against Souhegan.
January 7th, 2009 at 9:27 pm
I still have that helmet, Nice pass by the way…..”on the tape”.
January 7th, 2009 at 11:14 pm
I’ve replayed that header sequence many a time in my mind, but I think what was going through my mind immediately thereafter was something more like, That’s two thus far, Shooter.
And I’d certainly hope that helmet is behind glass somewhere, with a plaque commemorating a truly momentous goal (I can still see the mixed expression of exhilaration and confusion in your face, as you were clearly excited but not actually sure what to do upon actually scoring a goal) in what I believe was perhaps ultimately a 4-1 loss…to Somersworth? I’ll have to check my files to confirm.
January 8th, 2009 at 10:03 pm
4-1 loss to Somersworth Berwick. Best hockey game of my brief stint with HHA. Pinnacle of my career.