Friday, January 30, 2009

Super Bowl Stubble

Because I sit on the end of a bench for a college basketball team, this clearly means I am the ultimate sports authority who knows more about everything sports than anyone else in the world. Frankly, it's a title that carries a lot of weight, but it comes with the territory and I understand that. Because of this, and because I have watched a combined five minutes of Steelers and/or Cardinals games this year, I feel obligated to give my Super Bowl pre-game analysis. But not before I touch on the greatest game in the history of the Ohio State student section.

Wednesday night we played Michigan and even though we won, the students sitting on the east side of the gym were the biggest winners of all ("Who's the big winner at the casino tonight?"). Because of my brilliant ousting of the bobble-head race promotion, Ohio State introduced a new time out promotion involving Outback Steakhouse and a free bloomin' onion. Basically they had some video graphic thing play for a few seconds while the crowd was on pins and needles wondering if the section that had guys in the aisles with handfuls of coupons ready to pass out was going to be the section the graphic stopped on. Spoiler alert: it was. The eruption from the winning student section was so loud, I honestly thought Russ Tyler had the knucklepuck locked and loaded at mid-ice.

As if a free bloomin' onion from Outback wasn't enough, the ongoing promotion of free fries from McDonald's if the team scores more than 70 points was continuing. In case you don't know much about Big Ten basketball, scoring 70 points in our conference is harder than babysitting Junior Healy. We haven't done it too many times this year, but we did on Wednesday and in the process capped off a night of freeloading from the students that even a champion freeloader like myself has no choice but to be proud of.

On top of the free high calorie food, we beat Michigan, which apparently is a rival of ours or something. The rivalry was on full display when a Michigan player politely told P.J. Hill that his elbow tasted like a medium well sirloin and offered P.J. a taste. P.J. declined, but the unnamed Michigan player decided to impose his will and was so persistent for P.J. to taste his elbow that he kindly threw it in P.J.'s face for him. A little scuffle broke out and was eventually put to an end when Evan Turner stepped in and said, "Guys I hate to break up this fight, but I just ripped a big one and it's about to smell like Kosta Koufos in five seconds." That was all anybody needed to hear and both teams quickly dissipated away from the foul odor. Add peacemaker to the long list of talents Evan has.

As I mentioned earlier, I feel like America wants to know my thoughts on the big "foosball" game on Sunday, so here's some Super Bowl anaylsis from a guy whose predictions are about as reliable as Braylon Edwards going across the middle.

There are a few things in this world I've learned to never, under any circumstances, bet against. Never bet against Alex Mack wearing a hat. Never bet against Benny "The Jet" Rodriguez in a pickle. And, for the love of God, never bet against the greatest stubble-beard in the history of sport. I'm talking, of course, about Kurt Warner (my apologies to Razor Ramon). In case you have your doubts, let me make you a believer.

From what I've heard about the man, Kurt Warner used to work at a grocery store where he would return misplaced items to their original spot on the shelf. Basically, all those times you suddenly decided you didn't want the value pack of Fla-Vor-Ice because it's so freaking hard to open those things and you thought setting them down in the cereal aisle wouldn't be that big of a deal, you made Kurt Warner's life a little bit more miserable. So miserable, in fact, that he decided to go out and become a two-time MVP and a Super Bowl champion. It's the kind of rags to riches story Club Trillion likes to dream about. And, honestly, if you can't cheer for a guy who used to have to alphabetize the canned goods because his boss was a little too irrational, then you are either a Steelers fan or a Commie. I'm not even sure which is worse.

Simply put, the stubble-beard greatness of Kurt Warner heavily outweighs the legend of Bill Cowher's constipation face, which is why I'm saying the Cardinals are going to win by a score of 5-4. Should be a close game throughout, but in the end I'm thinking there is just too much stubble-beard for the Steelers to mess with. Do what you want with this information, but keep in mind that it's not even so much a prediction as it is a fact. After all, I did play high school football and I am a pretty average Madden player, so I know exactly what I'm talking about when it comes to football. In related news, I'm an idiot.

Bone-Crushing Screens: 1 to date (0 last game)

Your awesome YouTube was sent in to me by John O. There's your shout-out, John. And here's your video.

Your Friend and My Favorite,

Mark Titus
Club Trillion Founder

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Taking Time Out

We lost to Michigan State Sunday to drop our record to 13-5. While Michigan State has a team full of talented basketball players, I am much more impressed with the fact that they have by far the most unique first names of any team in the country. Of the guys who get significant minutes, only Travis Walton and Chris Allen have names that don't look like they were conceived while eating Alpha-Bits. The awesome first names include Marquise, Draymond, Idong, Kalin, Korie, Raymar, Delvon, Durrell, and Goran. I'm seriously jealous that Tom Izzo gets to say these names out loud on a daily basis and not get the People's Eyebrow from onlookers.

It was during a timeout Sunday that I discovered something that makes me more upset than when I found out that the plot from "Blank Check" is more unrealistic than Chris Andersen opening a successful daycare business. This is a discovery that could win you an absurd amount of money slash respect, provided the people you bet against don't read this blog. Let me explain.

There's a promotion that Ohio State does that features bobble-head versions of a cheerleader, Brutus, and a drum major virtually racing through campus. You are encouraged to pick who you think is going to win by texting a corresponding code for your respective choice to some five or six digit number that's supposed to be easy to remember but isn't at all. Apparently if you win, AT&T won't send you spam messages to the number you just provided them with. Brilliant marketing, really.

I was under the impression that the texts serve as votes and the lowest vote getter would end up winning, so that way AT&T could beef up their spam list as much as possible. However, the cheerleader has won on five consecutive occasions, meaning either my theory on making the lowest vote getter win is correct and everyone hates our cheerleaders or more likely whoever put the promotion together thought that their audience was comprised of a bunch of monkeys who don't understand the concept of a pattern. Well I'm not going to let this blatant lack of effort go on any longer. I'm sick of picking Brutus, fully convinced that they HAVE to let someone else win this time, only to have a feeling of dejection analogous to cheering for my beloved Cubbies in the playoffs. The fact that whoever is responsible for the video is too lazy to make a different outcome is ripping the integrity of the game to shreds and leaves me wondering whether timeout games can ever be trusted again. The ball is in your court, promotion video maker guy. Make me a believer again.

There's a solid chance whoever does make the video will hear about me writing this and will ultimately either sack the entire promotion or will actually come up with a different winner and make me look like a liar in the process. But until then, pick the cheerleader every time. They will get the hint when they get 19,000 winners and are left with the six people who are too cool for conformity to add to their spam list. You could even use this information to steal money from your unsuspecting friends who gamble or impress your boss and break those chains that bind you at work. Just a suggestion.

While I'm on the topic of timeout promotions, I feel like I should address the epidemic that seems to have spread to every school in the Big Ten. I'm talking of course of the incessant and unwavering desire of fans to get a t-shirt during the t-shirt toss. I'm not sure if it's the fact that you are getting something for free or if it provides you a perfect opportunity to show your date how much of a man you are because you can catch a wrapped up t-shirt thrown by a mascot with an oversized nut for a head, but something about the t-shirt toss gets you going. And I respect that, even if I don't fully understand it. It's just strange to me to see people who are otherwise quiet and reserved suddenly want a t-shirt so badly that they don't care if they push over that seven year old kid who's got those Pokemon shoes that light up when he walks. Eventually that guy gets booed by the crowd because he has no regard for human life while trying to obtain his t-shirt and is ultimately forced to give the t-shirt back to the kid he pushed over, even though the look on his face suggests it's a moronic idea to reward a loser.

The t-shirt toss is when people's character really shines through, which is probably why I love it so much. I'm convinced it's the pride of winning that makes people crazy for the t-shirt rather than the five dollar t-shirt they are getting. The cheerleaders could throw out bags of human feces and the fans would still probably fight over it. It's terrifying to consider that we currently live in a world where a legitimate threat is that terrorists could infiltrate cheerleading squads all over America and throw hand grenades into the overzealous crowds during the t-shirt toss. History shows us that people will more than likely be fighting over the chance to catch a hand grenade, ignoring the fact that they are about to have a face that looks like a marshmallow that fell into a campfire. I can only pray I won't ever have to say I told you so.

Bone-Crushing Screens: 1 to date (0 last game)

Your awesome YouTube was sent in to me by Intramural Softball Champion Rawley D. There's your shout-out, Rawley. And here's your video.

Your Friend and My Favorite,

Mark Titus
Club Trillion Founder

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

It's All White

Let me begin this post by saying if you are looking for a politically correct blog, please keep looking. With Martin Luther King Day and the inauguration of Barack Obama both happening in consecutive days this week, I thought it would be a perfect time to introduce what will undoubtedly be the coolest thing I've ever done with this blog. Again, if you are one of those PC people (and I don't mean this guy) then just go ahead and stop reading right now. Seriously. I don't want you to read this. The joke is over. I honestly want you to stop reading.

At dinner the other night Kyle Madsen and I were discussing the makeup of our team. We have a diverse squad with a variety of cultural backgrounds and Kyle and I were commenting on this. I casually suggested that the team seemed to be sitting in order from the blackest guy to the whitest guy, with me being on the end of the white spectrum. I was not commenting on the intensity of our skin tones, either. The fact that I claimed to be the whitest guy on the team upset Kyle and we spent the rest of the evening arguing about who encompasses white culture more. Let me further explain.

There is a popular blog out there called "Stuff White People Like" (I would link you, but the NCAA would punch me in the kidneys). It basically is exactly what the title says it is--a list of things that white people are interested in. In that same vein, Kyle and I discussed which one of us represents white culture more. This does not make us white supremacists or anything of the sort, but rather makes us two guys who love the fact that we are minorities of college basketball and are proud to be holding it down for our culture. We respect and appreciate all cultures, but we really like ours and think it is very important to be a beacon of hope for all white basketball players in the world. Before I get into whether Kyle or I are more deserving of this title, I will explain why nobody else on the team is anywhere close to being a viable option.

William Buford - When we dress up to go to restaurants and various other places, Will wears this shirt. For serious. Also, he's not white, making his chances at being the whitest guy on the team minimal.

Jon Diebler - Jon seems like he would be a good candidate, seeing as how he is from a farming town. However, Jon can do a 360 and doesn't like listening to country music. Those are two big no-nos for our purposes.

P.J. Hill - He has dreadlocks. Also, he is not white either. Sorry, P.J.

Nikola Kecman - When asked if he thinks of himself as a foreigner or a white guy, he responded "Serbian." So not only does he not think of himself as white, he doesn't understand how to answer either/or questions.

Dallas Lauderdale - He easily has the ugliest jump shot on the team. And as a general rule of thumb, if you can't shoot, you really can't epitomize an average white guy. Plus he's black, which doesn't bode well for a whitest guy on the team contest.

David Lighty - If there is one thing all white people are (besides white), it's punctual. The only way to get Dave to show up on time is to tell him that we are meeting a half hour before we actually are meeting. Not cool, Dave.

B.J. Mullens - Has a legitimate chance at being the top pick in the NBA draft in the future. Honestly, B.J., what do you think this is? 1955? White guys just don't go first in the draft, especially white guys from America.

Walter Offutt - Walter has a nickname on his Facebook account, as his profile says "Walter WaltDisney Offutt." Unless you have a legitimate nickname or you are recently married and have your maiden name in quotes or something, you cannot put a nickname on your Facebook and plan on being viewed as a legitimate white guy. Also, he loses his mind when getting stuck on an elevator (not that that has anything to do with being white--just thought I'd remind you of the type of person we are dealing with here).

Danny Peters - Danny would eat a roasted caterpillar off of Grandma Winslow's back hair if LeBron James told him to. And last I checked LeBron isn't a white guy. Beyond that, Danny doesn't even know the lyrics to "Callin' Baton Rouge", which is a must if you want to be white. Honestly, I think they should have a thing on legal documents where if you check the box that says "white" when filling out your ethnicity or race, you should be required to at least provide the chorus to "Callin' Baton Rouge." Just one of the things I will change when I'm elected President in 2024 (that's twenty twenty-four, not two-thousand twenty-four).

Zisis Sarikopoulos - Zisis would actually make for a pretty solid candidate. Unlike Nikola, Zisis is a European who is proud to say he's a white guy. However, the NCAA has recently concluded its investigation on Zisis and they found that he is actually not white at all, but is instead a pretty famous movie star with a naturally green skin. Sorry, Zisis, but I cannot reward a cheater.

Jeremie Simmons - It would be really easy for me to make a joke about how Jeremie is the only guy on the team who is darker than his shadow, but I'm not that mean so I won't even bring that up. Instead I'll say that he has a lot of tattoos, none of which are of Tweety Bird or NASCAR related. I'm not entirely sure what he was thinking when he passed on the chance to get a Dale Jr. tat, but I guess that's his business.

Evan Turner - Surprisingly, Evan is a perfect candidate for being the whitest guy on the team. He went to a private high school, listens to John Mayer, and regularly wears a scarf. I honestly can't think of a single reason why Evan shouldn't be considered. Maybe Kyle and I should just battle for second place. Congratulations on representing our culture so well, Evan. Maybe you should teach Rascal Flatts a thing or two on how to successfully tie in aspects of other cultures into your own. Lord knows they could use the help.

So there you have it. With the exception of Club Trillion nemesis Evan Turner, nobody can make a legitimate claim at being eligible for this contest. That leaves the two candidates you will (hopefully) cast your vote for in the near future. Let's get to know these two worthy candidates a little better.

Kyle Madsen was literally born with a silver spoon in his hand. It baffled the doctors and Kyle really doesn't like to talk about it, but that's not the point. The point is that Kyle owns a membership to Costco and wears a pullover sweater at least six days a week. His high school boasts an impressive four minorities in his graduating class, proving that Kyle's concept of diversity is similar to that of Ron Burgundy's. He could listen to Dave Matthews read the dictionary and not even hint at being bored. Often times Kyle will have to take his Lexus into the shop, at which point he relies on his polo horse for transportation. As if this isn't enough, Kyle went to Vanderbilt for a year. In case you don't know anything about Vanderbilt, it's actual mission statement reads " offer a quality education for our students, provided they wear pink polo shirts with their collars popped." Simply put, this man is a bigger preppy than Zach Morris.

You pretty much know all you need to know about me. My jump shot is wetter than your girlfriend's eyes when Rachel came back for Ross. I love professional wrestling, auto racing, and country music. I once got second degree burns at the Indy 500 because I refused to wear sunscreen along with my wife-beater. If they aren't selling it at Wal-Mart, chances are I'm not buying it. When people tell me they are growing out a mullet and/or a mustache because they think it will be awesomely funny, I look them squarely in the eye and with a straight face say "May God have mercy on your soul." Mustaches and mullets are simply no laughing matter to me. While Kyle plays the role of a preppy and upper class white guy, I play the role of white trash redneck. And I play it well.

As you can see, both candidates epitomize two contrasting aspects of white culture. This election could come down to whether you view white people as preppy or whether you view white people as rednecks. We will continue to campaign for the next few weeks, as Kyle and I will both write entries explaining why we deserve the title and possibly shoot a couple videos to further our respective claims. The election will be held on March 1st and will be conducted using the poll feature on the side of the blog. I could put the poll up now, but I want The Trillion Man March to gather the facts and make the best decision based on who you think is the most qualified candidate. The easy answer would be to vote for me because I could threaten shutting down the blog if Kyle wins, but I refuse to resort to scare tactics to get your support. Just like the 2000 election, I want this election to be fair and honest. Forward it to all of your friends and get them in on the action. This has the potential of being the sweetest thing to happen to society since barbers decided to heat the shaving cream they use to shave the back of necks.

Bone-Crushing Screens: 1 to date (0 last game)

Your awesome YouTube was sent in to me by Tyler R. There's your shout-out, Tyler. And here's your video (which happens to be one of my favorite all-time YouTube videos).

Your Friend and My Favorite,

Mark Titus
Club Trillion Founder

Saturday, January 17, 2009

If You're Not Down With Keller's 300k Post, We've Got Two Words For You

As I'm sure you figured out by now, Keller is quite the slacker. Here we are almost 35,000 hits after when he was supposed to post and he finally got around to writing something. It's a good thing for him that the real world doesn't operate with these so called "deadlines" and "due dates." At any rate, here's his 300k post. He claims he's skipping 400k, but let's be honest. If he were to write a 400k post he wouldn't publish it until we crossed over 500k anyway. And I can't let him hit me below the belt without at least saying that 85% of my love for John Cena was derived from the fact that Keller hated him and I always knew I could upset him if I cheered for Cena. I know that that makes no sense now, but it will after you read. Enjoy...

There are three things that don't get talked about nearly enough:
  1. Tim Tebow's lisp
  2. "Dreaming that you're peeing" being the most terrifying thing in the world
  3. Mark's awful taste in favorite professional wrestlers
The first is one of the biggest reasons as to why I hate Florida's football team. The other main reason would be that it looks like Tebow is actively trying to secure an LA Looks sponsorship for when he turns pro. But honestly, every time there's a press conference and he's talking, it sounds like Bobby Lashley trying to call someone a bastard.

The second is something I experience somewhere in the range of three to five times a year. The situations will vary, but in every single one I find myself having the need to urinate, and I do (in my dream). At that moment I become conscious of what is happening and have about five seconds of terror hoping I'm not about to wet my bed for the first time ever, before I wake up much more suddenly than a falling dream could ever make me.

I felt guilty pointing out the third seeing as how my favorite wrestler of all-time is the Ultimate Warrior to Mark's John Cena. Then I realized that John Cena doesn't wear face paint. Then I realized that John Cena doesn't give promos like this. Then I realized John Cena isn't awesomely crazy in real life. So I didn't feel that bad anymore.

When we went to Wrestlemania 22 for our senior year spring break, the main event was John Cena vs Triple H. I have never seen anyone as annoyingly excited for a mediocre wrestler than Mark was for John Cena. If he was wearing panties, he most certainly would have thrown them into the ring during Cena's entrance. While the match itself wasn't a technical masterpiece, the crowd was more excited during that match than possibly any other since Rock/Hogan at Wrestlemania X8. Mark's annoying screams next to me anytime Cena hit a shoulderblock led me to realize that I absolutely hated Mark Titus.

Mark, I'm going to use this public forum to educate you on a few things. You should never, under any circumstances, give your support to a man wearing jean shorts who isn't Kenny Powers. It's irresponsible for you to cheer for a man who isn't fully dedicated to his flat top when there are plenty out there who have. And if your favorite wrestler raps, it should sound like this.

Now, Mark isn't completely ignorant. For Halloween our senior year we dominated Brownsburg High School with multiple Rocker Drops, and he was the Shawn Michaels to my Marty Jannetty. You can't argue against the beauty of Shawn Michaels' body of work. D-X (the original)? Check. Original gimmick based on a glam metal superstar? Check. Greatest entrance in any sporing event of all time? Check freaking plus. Even with all that though, I'm convinced Mark's love of Shawn Michaels was completely based on the fact he could sing "Sexy Boy" in the middle of class and have a somewhat applicable reason to do so.

I've tried to explain to Mark on multiple occasions as to how much John Cena sucks, but it appears there is no getting through to him. I guess that goes to show that there are some things in life that will always be true. My favorite New Wave song will always be When In Rome's "The Promise." My hair will never look as good as Shawn Spencer's. There will never be a greater job than posing as an Area Man for Onion articles. And Mark Titus will never have good taste in professional wrestlers.


Okay on to some serious business. First:

-There was no more appropriate place for that picture. If anybody remembers back on my last post, I casually claimed that TRILcats could become the new LOLcats. Less than 72 hours later, we had that picture in our inbox. That is the type of stuff we love to see from the Trillion Man March. If you think you can top that, be it with a TRILcat or a pic of yourself as a member of the Trillion Man March, or if you are a really hot girl and you just took a picture of yourself and you want Mark to see it, send it our way at

-For Mark's two blogs before the Erin Andrews blog, I put a link to the Digg article at the top of the blog entry. Now, the link to Digg and our other internet pages are located to the right, just below the CLUB TRIL logo. So in the future if you want to Digg a blog, just click the link on the right and Digg it from there.

-Finally, as a few of you were quick to point out, I did not post at the 300,000 hit mark, just like I didn't post at the 200,000 hit mark. A couple people called me a slacker, which can be understandable given that they didn't understand it was Mark waiting until about 5,000 hits left before my post is supposed to go out to write a new entry. It's our custom to leave at least two days between posts so they don't get lost in the shuffle and people don't get left behind. But one person told me my wit wasn't as quick as Mark's. How dare you! That was quite hurtful my wrestling loving friend. You called on me to write about my top ten wrestlers of all-time, and I while I can't oblige that here since this the blog has to be a little related to Mark, I might get around to it one day on my own site. Don't worry though, there are some ideas in development here that rely heavily on professional wrestling.

Going back to the every 100,000 hits thing, if we were to do that again at 400,000 I would be posting after Mark's next blog, and obviously my stories making fun of Mark aren't that important. So we'll announce now that I'm not going to have a post at 400,000. I'll have a post at 500,000, but after that I'll post less frequently unless the masses riot at this decision. We never expected for traffic to be as frequent as it is, so right now I'm blogging every third blog of Mark's, which doesn't really make sense. In order to make amends with my loyal fans, I'll leave you with this wrestling YouTube.

See you at 500,000.


Wednesday, January 14, 2009

No Appetite To EA-T

Last night we beat Indiana in a game that I admittedly had no idea was going on until there was about five minutes left in the first half. It goes without saying that there was one reason and one reason only why I was so distracted during the game, but I'll say it anyway. My main squeeze, Erin Andrews-Titus, was in attendance and looked like a trillion dollars. But I wasn't looking at her because she looked like a cross between Patty Mayonnaise and Kimberly The Pink Power Ranger. I was looking at her because there seemed to be trouble in paradise and I really couldn't believe what I kept seeing.

I'm not going to use this entry to say that Erin's actions could be classified as careless, cold-hearted, and overall inconsiderate (see what I did there?). I'm just going to say that the only other time I have ever been more disappointed is when I went to a service at "The Journey Church" in my hometown of Brownsburg, Indiana (the sign that lured me in seriously said "Don't Stop Believing"), only to find out that when some of the members said they "religiously listen to Journey", they were only joking. Good joke, guys. I hope you're happy. Anyway, things started off really well when an ESPN producer approached me during shoot around and asked if I would care if Erin talked about me on air. I naturally played it cool and gave him a "Pffff, whatever" like I was too good for ESPN, but I figured I'd help them out a little. Sure I was a little over the top with my bravado, but I had an ace in the hole--an intimate, albeit imaginary, relationship with Erin Andrews. It really didn't matter what the producer thought of me, because I knew Erin would come through and give Club Trillion AMPAP.

As the team came out for warm-ups before the game, David Lighty and I came out of the opposite tunnel because as the captain and face of the program, respectively, we didn't want to get hounded by the throngs of fans who would have inevitably tried to touch our faces or something as equally uncomfortable. Dave was approached by our SID and was informed that ESPN wanted to mic him up for the game, because he's sooooo funny and has a blog that makes the ladies weak in the knees. Oh wait, that's not Dave at all. I was a little upset by this decision, but I knew Erin was going to talk about me, so I ultimately didn't care (I would later find out that she never gave Club Trillion the shout-out I had been hoping for). And that's when our SID decided it would be a fantastic idea if he took a dump on my heart. He told us that Erin wanted to do an in-game interview. With David Lighty.

When I heard the news that Erin chose Dave over me for the interview, a few things went through my mind. My immediate thought was "I hope nobody is documenting this with the intent of making a slow motion video of my dejected reaction, set to the music of Daniel Powter." I then thought about the probability of me getting away with crushing Dave's kneecaps with a crowbar. Since there were over 10,000 witnesses and I didn't feel like walking all the way back into the locker room to grab the crowbar in my locker, I decided against it. Just then, as I was scrambling to think of a way to sabotage Dave, I caught Erin walking right at me and giving me that look that said "I'm seriously considering eloping with you."

Erin instead went with something like "Bill Simmons podcast? Nice!", which had a little less passion than I had intended, but her blowing me a kiss and winking totally made up for it. It was at this moment that I knew exactly what was going on. People as good looking as Erin and me know a secret that they don't tell the people who graduate from Average Looking School. It's a little strategy called "playing hard to get" and I knew that that was what she was up to. In case you don't know about this strategy, you can read about it here. Basically it follows the notion that people only want what they can't have (a notion that also explains why I want to so badly shake the hand of the man who conceived the "Hey Dude" theme song). She totally wants me, which was evident by her winking at me, but refuses to acknowledge it because it's more fun to drag me along and keep me guessing. Well, Erin, I've caught on to your ways and I'm not afraid to fight back.

Since Erin is so set on messing with my emotions, I've decided to give her a taste of her own poison and see how she likes it. That's why I'm officially breaking up with Erin Andrews-Titus. I know this is going to be hard for her to take (and frankly hard for some of The Trillion Man March to take), but it's time for her to realize that she should be held responsible for her actions. Maybe if I start (imaginary) dating another, younger celebrity (Taylor Swift comes to mind) Erin will get the hint. I don't exactly know where our relationship will go from here, but I think it's best to at least take a break for now. I'm a little upset that this is what our relationship has come to and almost feel like contemplating my life while looking out a bus window and listening to the Goo Goo Dolls. But, in the end I know it will all work out because if there is anything that sorority girls' Facebook pages have taught me, it's that "Wutz meant 2 b will always find a way. 4 srs!"

Bone-Crushing Screens: 1 to date (0 last game)

Your awesome YouTube was sent in to me by Trevor E. There's your shout-out, Trevor. And here's your video.

Your Friend and My Favorite,

Mark Titus
Club Trillion Founder

Sunday, January 11, 2009

She's Only Seventeen

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As I alluded to in the previous post, I injured my foot getting buckets a few days ago. I didn't go into much detail because I wanted message boards all over the internet to blow up with discussion that would dwarf any "Lost" theory message board (Seriously, though, what's the deal with the polar bear from the first season? And why hasn't Hurley lost weight?). And that's exactly what happened.

I'm here to set the record straight. After talking with the doctors, I have learned a lot more about this terrible condition I am plagued with. Apparently I have what is referred to in the medical field as a Liz Frank injury. This came as surprising news to me, because I have read that little Jewish girl's book at least three times and she never mentions messing up the top of her foot. Goes to show how weird medical nomenclature really is. Apparently, it's the same injury that Ted Ginn had in the national championship a couple years ago. Anyway, I was told I could be out up to six weeks, but because I am a bonafide winner it will more likely be about two weeks or so. I want to take this time to thank all of you who sent me cards and flowers. Your concern at this dark point in my life means more to me than you will ever know.

Because I'm even more useless to the basketball team than I was before I got hurt, I decided to take this weekend off and come home to spend some quality time with my family. It's my sister's birthday tomorrow and we had a little family get together today. For those of you who took the liberty of looking up my sister on Facebook, please be aware that she's only seventeen. And while taking advice from Winger may seem like a good idea, keep in mind that they were Stewart's (of Beavis and Butt-head fame) favorite band and that dude was a loser.

The coolest part of the weekend came when I went shopping with my mom at Wal-Mart (we're high rollers) for my sister's birthday. I had obviously purchased my sister a Club Trillion sweatshirt, but my mom was looking to get a little something to go with the leather skirt she had already bought her. I was on my crutches at the time and was therefore offered a chance to ride those motorized carts that handicapped people use. Needless to say, I jumped on that opportunity like I was getting a golden ticket to Wonka's factory. I proceeded to put the pedal to the floor and I cruised through the store at a top speed of about five miles per hour. While my mom was actually looking for things to buy, I was trying to find the most narrow aisles with people in them, so I could make them feel bad when they had to get out of the way of my massive cart. I'm all about causing mayhem. The highlight of my time with the cart, though, came when I did donuts by the main entrance right before I returned the cart. The whole store was captivated with my ability to drive the cart, with the lone exception being the elderly man who had been sitting on a bench waiting for my juvenile mind to get done entertaining myself so his broken down body could use the cart for a legitimate purpose. Whoops.

My brother and I went to see "Gran Torino" yesterday and let me go on record as saying it was fantastic. I fully expected this, seeing as how the title of the movie rhymes with the name of the greatest quarterback of all time. I used the same rhyming pattern to determine that I really wanted to buy some hand flamingos, because they HAVE to be awesome, but after careful consideration I realized that I'm an idiot. Seriously,though, "Gran Torino" was phenomenal mostly because it (SPOILER ALERT!) featured Clint Eastwood being the champion badass that he is.

Other than some fun times with my family, the only other news I have to report is that I have started using a phrase that for whatever reason I simply can't stop saying. No matter the conversation, I've recently found a way to incorporate the phrase "that's just the nature of the beast" in some way. It's annoying for everyone involved, so if you see me on the street and I use this phrase, please know that I don't mean to be so lame with my descriptions of things. I just recently stopped saying "buzzkill", which was equally as brutal for everyone I spoke with. I don't know why, but when these words or phrases get in my head, I just can't stop using them. I guess that's just the nature of the beast.

Bone-Crushing Screens: 1 to date (0 last game)

Your awesome YouTube was sent in to me by Brian M. There's your shout-out, Brian. And here's your video.

Apparently, all you iPhone users can see the embedded videos and I was just wasting my time providing a link. So if you can't see the video, either get the appropriate application or just go to a computer. Sorry, but not really.

Your Friend and My Favorite,

Mark Titus
Club Trillion Founder

Friday, January 9, 2009

You're It, I Quit

Don't Forget to Digg this article --Keller

Thanks to about 500 of you, I was informed about Rey Maluluaullagulaga doing a quick bump and grind on my home girl (not exactly sure what labeling someone as a home girl entails) Erin Andrews. At this point, it's really no secret that Erin Andrews is often times the only two reasons why I watch some games. That's why I e-mailed Rey to first explain to him how he is a homewrecker, but to more importantly ask him if he is actually Rey Mysterio on (more) steroids. I am yet to hear back. Perhaps further action needs to be taken.

We lost to Michigan State the other day, making us 1-3 in our last 4 games. I spent the entire game playing eye tag with one of the members of the MSU dance team. And yes, it was a girl. There are a lot of variations of eye tag, but the way I play seems to be the most fun/creepy. Allow me to explain.

Eye tag is a game that is won or lost during the showdowns. A showdown is initiated when two people lock eyes. Whoever looks away first becomes "it." The only way to not be "it" anymore is to initiate another showdown and hope that the opponent looks away first. During warm-ups, I had one of the fiercest board slaps in my career and in celebration turned and pointed into the crowd, because all star athletes should always play to the crowd a little. As I pointed, I saw this particular member of the dance team, who was not (and this is the weird part) smoking hot, but was instead giving off a vibe that said "I'm intriguing. You want to look at me." Her vibe was absolutely right. So I lock eyes with this particular hunnie and I try to set the tone with my initial stare down. I mean, I'm staring at her so hard I start to piece together stories of her life. I can tell she's a little bit of a daddy's girl and will never forget her first boyfriend for not remembering her birthday that one year. Yes, it is possible to tell all these things from staring at someone. I'm just that good.

So we're engaged in a showdown and I have full confidence I'm going to win this thing cause I've got a much greater advantage over any other guy in the gym. Think about it. If you are at a Cavs game and LeBron looks into the crowd and stares right at you for ten seconds, you will immediately call all your friends and tell them about how LeBron wants to party with you. But if you see LeBron at Wal-Mart and he stares at you for ten seconds, you immediately go the children's section and buy yourself a new pair of Shrek underwear because out of fear he caused you to put streaks in the pair you are wearing. It makes perfect sense. For some reason being an athlete allows you to do whatever you want that is otherwise socially awkward, so long as it occurs during the game and you are in uniform. Sure it still might be creepy for me to stare down girls on the MSU dance team, but if I were to do this at any other time, I would be arrested immediately for being the epitome of the word "pervert." You understand. It's still creepy, but for some reason it's not nearly as bad as it should be because I'm wearing over $500 worth of warm-ups and can do the Mikan drill with ease.

Anyway, I'm in this showdown with this girl and I'm feeling like victory is coming my way real soon. I'm getting the sense that she's seen all she needs to see and she's about to look away and play eye tag with another (obviously less attractive) dude at the game. But right before she looks away, a ball comes flying in from my peripheral, forcing me to turn and catch it. We are, after all, still doing warm-ups at this time. Because of the unfortunate nature of the layup line, I was now "it." And I didn't like it one bit.

Luckily for me, the dancers were sitting underneath the basket by our bench. I knew some intense eye tag was going to be played over the course of the next two hours. I made my move right after the starting lineups were announced. I eyeballed this darling for a quick second and she almost immediately looked my way. Showdown initiated. This time, I had nothing else to do until halftime came around so I definitely had the advantage. I won this particular showdown with ease and as the night wore on my consistent play was just too much for her. For the record, she is still "it." Chalk up a big win for Club Trillion.

Michigan State may have won the game on the court, but my performance in eye tag was one for the ages. Also, Sparty is by far the worst mascot to play with in the mascot games on NCAA Football '05 and Brutus was one of the better ones. So ultimately, the Buckeyes aren't doing too badly in our rivalry with Michigan State. Something to think about.

Finally, I wanted to inform everyone of some terrible news. Yesterday during practice Dallas Lauderdale landed on my foot as I was rolling my ankle. For those of you who don't know, Dallas is listed at 255 pounds. If you are ever presented an opportunity for Dallas Lauderdale to jump and come down on your foot, I recommend passing on it. The x-rays were negative (which is a good thing, I'm told), but I was informed I could be out up to six weeks. Basically instead of sitting on the bench with a towel around my neck, I'll be sitting on the bench with a boot on my foot. As far as my mental state with this injury, I am currently caught between confusion and pain. I'm sorry to disappoint, but it seems I won't be dotting anytime soon.

Bone-Crushing Screens: 1 to date (0 last game)

Your awesome YouTube was sent in to me by Dan S. There's your shout-out, Dan. And here's your video.

Here's the same video as a link, for all you iPhone users out there.

Your Friend and My Favorite,

Mark Titus
Club Trillion Founder

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Keller's 200k Post

As I'm sure you remember, I promised Keller a guest blog for every 100,000 hits Club Trillion gets. In exchange for this, he does pretty much whatever I tell him to do. Anyway, here's what he had to say this go round. I know we hit 200,000 hits awhile ago, but the elevator story was too awesome and I HAD to step in and tell it. I'll let Keller take it from here...

Two short weeks later and I'm back posting because we've added another 100,000 hits. I find this awesome. You probably find this awful. Thanks for everyone who submitted potential ladies for Mark to date. Everyone, that is, besides my little sister Ashley. Not cool at all. The only thing that could have been less cool is all the guys who e-mailed Club Trillion asking "if Keller's sister is hot." If you're that creepy, just add her on Facebook, jeez. For everyone else, we're still taking submissions at Consider it a late Christmas present to the person you're submitting. Don't worry Mark, one day, love will find you.

Now, I thought about writing 2,000 words on why I will never forgive Danny Peters for his transgressions last Saturday (you know EXACTLY what you did, Danny), but while I will have many opportunities in the future to put into words the many ways I would give Danny wedgies should I see him again, this is going to be my only chance to piggyback on the "Goals for 2009" blog idea that I gave Mark in the first place.

So here are my top five goals for Mark and Club Trillion in this New Year

The reclamation of Mark's Facebook Wall

I love the popularity Mark has received from the blog. I really do. He has added over 1,000 Facebook friends in the last month. This should seem like a good thing to most, but I absolutely hate it. The problem with all these new Facebook friends is that when I have something awesome to say or link to on Mark's Wall, it gets lost in the shuffle. In the past when I would post something as life-altering as this on his Wall, it would incite the discussion that it deserves. Now, it quickly gets pushed out of sight by 100 friend stories and 8 or 9 people posting a short sentence about being a fan of the blog. To quote The Big Lebowski (which you should do at any semi-applicable chance you get) "this aggression will not stand, man."

I offer a peaceful resolution - The Club Trillion Facebook Page. I can assure you Mark checks it daily, and it would be a better place to express your appreciation for the blog. If you have an awesome Onion article, a ten minute clip of Jonah Takalua (Mark says I can't link to it because of language), or the coolest eBay auction ever, by all means post it on Mark's wall. If it's just about Club Trillion, join the fan page and post it there.

Turn Club Trillion into that guy you know who is into technology just a little too much

No, I'm not talking about turning Club Trillion into a dude who won't shut up about how sweet his new MacBook Pro is. There are a lot of places on the internet that we can spread our Club Trillion seed to. Blogger and Facebook don't have to be the end all-be all of our internet reach. I've taken the time to set-up a few other Club Trillion accounts on other sites, feel free to subscribe to them.

Myspace - Add us, especially if you have a webcam or a page that is covered in glittery HTML

YouTube - We only have one video up so far - a news spot on a Columbus TV station - but this YouTube account is where we plan on putting up any future interviews, Club Trillion original videos, or videos of a dog we saw that we will title "YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT THIS DOG DOES SRSLY!!!", so don't miss out.

Twitter - I'm not even sure what Twitter is. When I go to it, it just looks like a bunch of Facebook statuses. I'm not entirely sure why it exists, except for making me think that links were viruses for about two months until I clicked on one. Regardless, we'll try and update it a few times a day if it appears enough people are subscribing.

Make Club Trillion the most popular story on the internet - for a day

Sure, it's one thing to get a couple thousand hits from an inaccurate report of wrongdoing from SI, but it's another thing to reach the pinnacle of internet irreverence - being the top story on Digg. For 24 hours, Club Trillion would be the most popular thing on the internet, as determined by the people.

Since Club Trillion doesn't contain pleas to impeach Bush, a 9/11 conspiracy theory, a picture of a cat doing something funny (TRILcats could become the new LOLcats in my opinion), a witty put down of Microsoft, or a address (though at Club Trillion we LOVE Cracked), it will take a lot of effort to make this a reality. That's where the Trillion Man March comes in. I created a Digg username and will start submitting every Club Trillion post to Digg. You guys just need to sign up with a username, Digg the story up, and then make some kind of comment on it. Let's see if we can overtake an XKCD comic.

Accumulate 1,000 pictures of the Trillion Man March, including at least 50 with celebrities

One of the eventual goals of mine is to redesign the site. If that was to happen, I would want to include a section for the Trillion Man March. In that section, I'd want to have pictures of the Club Trillion fans over the world. If you have them, send them in to If you don't have them, why are you still reading this? I assume you have a cameraphone and a bathroom mirror - send me something.

Now, I'm not going to encourage you to be wearing a Club Trillion shirt, because as we have found out, people tend to take it the wrong way. All I'm going to say is it will probably look cooler. If you don't have a shirt, that doesn't mean you can't send in pictures. You could be creative with it. Old #34 jerseys, you and 3 buddies spelling out TRIL YMCA-style while decked out in OSU gear, the aforementioned TRILcats, the Club Trillion URL written in instead of a dollar amount on the tip of your restaurant bill - the possibilities are endless. If it's cool enough, I'll post it.

I'm going to discourage Photoshop (to an extent...awesome Photoshops are an exception) and encourage actively stalking local and Hollywood celebrities to pose in your Club Trillion pictures. Until the site redesign is done, I'll post the pictures on the Club Trillion Myspace and Facebook pages.

Mark Titus finally gets to meet Ben Affleck and have his life ruined

There are two things in my life that annoy me. The first is that as a redhead, I can never, under any circumstances, date another redhead. Regardless of the person, we would look way too much like brother in sister in public, and create a very awkward situation for onlookers were we to kiss. There's no getting around it, and redheads are the only race or hair color for which this holds true. So Isla Fisher, Nicole Kidman, and Wilma Flintstone, sorry. Maybe in another lifetime.

The other is that Mark Titus actually believes he looks like Ben Affleck. The thought is grounded in history - when we were on Spring Break in Fort Myers our sophomore year, two girls on a trolley told Mark that he looked a little like Ben Affleck. The problem is - he doesn't at all, but insists to this day because of said incident that he does. These girls could best be described as "Cal Naughton, Jr. at a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert (2:05 in the video)" drunk, so their opinion should matter about as much as Danny giving tips on how to grow a mustache. This was also Spring Break, where even these guys can find girls who think they're cool. Finally, he was sitting next to me on the trolley. It's pretty easy to look like Ben Affleck when you're sitting next to a redhead with a dirty goatee and a shade of skin that is a cross between sunburn and spray tan (thanks for encouraging that one, mom. It turned out SO well).

So I hope Ohio State draws the West Region this year in the NCAA tournament, specifically a game in Los Angeles. And I hope that before the game Mark hears a voice in the stands from a man saying something like "Hey Club Trillion, you suck! How about a picture?" That man? Ben Affleck. Picture gets taken, Mark finally realizes he looks nothing like Ben Affleck, my life gets a little better. This has to be the greatest plan since this.

Here's a professional wrestling video that's much cooler than anything I just wrote:

See you at 300,000.


Sunday, January 4, 2009

Love In An Elevator

For those of you who don't know, Club Trillion is a two man operation. I write the blogs, get the ladies' numbers, look fantastic on the bench, and take pictures holding babies. But behind the scenes, my BFF (at least that's what our charm bracelets say) Andy Keller takes care of all the dirty work. He is kind of my manager of sorts. Anyway, he did a great job stepping in a couple days ago in an emergency situation, where there were some redoinkulous claims made about me. I am going to explain the situation one more time, then forget it ever happened.

Here's the best way I can describe it. (This is a hypothetical, put in terms that are easier to understand. So if you are a writer of any sort, please do not publish this paragraph and leave out the fact that I just said it's a hypothetical. THE FOLLOWING DID NOT HAPPEN.) It's as if one of my friends had left his hunting shotgun in my car and I was approached by a lawyer, who told me that if something were to have happened involving that gun, it could lead to serious trouble for me. However, someone took this and twisted it into me being charged with murder. That's the best way I can describe what happened. I now look forward to seeing headlines that read "Ohio State Benchwarmer Commits Murder With Friend's Shotgun." This was not a big deal at all and I was just poking fun at the somewhat strict nature of the NCAA's rules. Somehow people decided to read one or two sentences and write a story on it. It's baffling to me that anybody would use my blog as a reliable source for anything but awesome YouTube videos. With that out of the way, let me get back to doing what I do.

We lost to Minnesota yesterday in a game that we seemingly decided to stop playing with six minutes left in the first half. This was my second trip to Minnesota and I must confess that I have been impressed both times. The campus looks pretty cool and the city is so big, it almost feels like there are two cities right next to each other. The most interesting part of the trip came after our shoot around when we returned to the hotel. Here's a recap of how things went down...

6:07 p.m. - We return to the hotel and are informed that we are watching film in 30 minutes. I make a mental note that this is more than enough time for me to pull a prank on Evan Turner. Ideas start flowing.

6:09 - I get off the bus while listening to Alan Jackson's "Livin' on Love." The face I make suggests that I am the toughest man on the planet and am therefore listening to heavy metal or hardcore rap. This probably confuses everyone who is around me and can tell what I am actually listening to.

6:12 - An elevator finally arrives and a group of about six players get on board, including Walter Offutt, Will Buford, and myself. Will is listening to some rapper I have never heard of and is bobbing his body up and down, presumably to the beat. As the doors start to close, Walter sticks his arm out preventing the doors from actually closing and has a Don Vito moment. Apparently Walter is not too thrilled with Will shaking the elevator from his bobbing up and down. Walter leaves the elevator and says he will wait for the next one. I notice he is visibly upset and realize this is a perfect opportunity to exploit his current mental state and I exit the elevator with him. This seems like a good time to mention that I have a video camera with me and plan on taking awesome footage of Walter losing his mind.

6:15 - The next elevator comes. Walter, Danny Peters, our trainer Vince O'Brien, and myself board. Danny pushes the 18th floor button, ignoring my request to push all the buttons or at least make a Christmas tree design. Walter is in the corner of the elevator, still upset by the scare that Will gave him. I go in for the kill.

6:16 - I turn the video camera on and point it in Walter's direction. I then ask, "Walter why were you so scared on that last elevator?" He responds with, "Cause I cain't staind it when people be jumping on elevators!" I know exactly what is going to happen next. As soon as the doors close, Danny starts jumping as high as he has ever jumped in his life, as his feet almost come completely off the ground, and is taunting Walter relentlessly. Walter is yelling at the top of his lungs. I am laughing hysterically and have the camera focused on Walter. I decide to add to the suspense and start bobbing my body a little bit. Keep in mind I am nowhere near the level of jumping Danny is doing. Vince joins in and bobs up and down even less than I am. It's at this moment that Danny lands from one of his foolishly intense jumps and the elevator starts shaking. The elevator then stops on what appears to be the 9th floor. The doors do not open. We are stuck.

6:17 - Walter goes crazy and yells at mostly Danny, but directs a little bit of his hatred toward me. It's at this time that I'm thankful Walter does not have a weapon. This is easily the most upset I have ever seen him get and I am documenting the entire thing with my video camera.

6:18 - I realize I forgot to hit the record button on the camera. I am now almost as upset as Walter. I hit record and hope to at least get some solid post-freak out footage.

6:20 - Walter is cooling down a little bit, but is still very upset. Danny is trying to justify his actions, suggesting it's the elevator's fault and claims that I was jumping just as high as he was. Vince is in one of the corners sitting down and is surprisingly taking the situation well. I turn the camera on myself and do a "Blair Witch Project" parody. You know, the one where my nostrils become the focal point of the camera. I say something like, "It's been four minutes and we still aren't out. I feel cold and empty. I need a hot cocoa before I lose my mind. I'm beginning to seriously question if we make it out alive."

6:22 - We decide it would be a good idea to utilize the emergency phone that is in the elevator. Danny calls the front desk to the hotel and explains the situation. Danny leaves out the part about him doing a cannonball onto the floor of the elevator. Probably a wise decision on his part.

6:25 - I bring up the idea of cannibalism and ask for a volunteer to be the first to be eaten. No takers. Vince then declares that he has nutrition bars in his trainer bag. I think about the consequences of turning to cannibalism within ten minutes of getting stuck in the elevator and decide it's probably best to just eat a nutrition bar.

6:29 - Walter calls his girlfriend and discusses the situation. I ask him who he is talking to and he says his girlfriend. I respond with, "Is this the same one from last night?" loud enough for her to hear me. Walter flips out again and explains to his woman that it was just a joke. Mark - 2, Walter - 0.

6:34 - I eyeball the top of the elevator and think about a possible escape. Walter is still talking to his girlfriend explaining that I was only kidding about him being with another girl. Danny is texting various coaches on both of his phones, presumably discussing how to guard a sideline ball screen. I approach Vince and ask him to tape my ankles for added support during the escape. He agrees that it would be a good idea, but he goes a little overboard with the tape and ends up taping both of my ankles, both of my wrists, and my left index finger to my left middle finger. Either way, I'm set for an epic escape.

6:37 - The film session is supposed to have started. I don't feel quite as badly as I should that I'm missing it.

6:40 - As I'm preparing to make my escape, I am reminded of how criminals like to stash dead bodies on the roofs of elevators, much like Hannibal Lecter did in "Silence of The Lambs." The possibility of opening the hatch and having a dead dude without a face falling on me is too much of a risk for me to try it. I opt to wait it out instead.

6:42 - I roll back the video I recorded and begin watching to pass the time. Walter is still a little distraught, so he calls the front desk lady back and makes small talk with her. He begins telling her stories about his basketball career. I find this conversation he is having worthy of recording on the video camera, so I stop the tape I was watching and begin recording Walter again.

6:45 - Walter asks the lady at the front desk, "You think we can get some pizzas or something since your elevators broke on us?" He then goes on to order pizzas for everyone in the elevator. Right before he hangs up, he says, "Thanks for those pizzas. We'll call back in ten minutes with more demands." Danny explains to Walter that we aren't holding anything hostage and "demand" was probably a poor choice of words.

6:51 - I realize that by rewinding the video tape earlier and not fast forwarding it back when I started recording again, I recorded over all the footage I had previously taken. My inability to operate a video camera is now becoming annoying to everyone in the elevator.

6:53 - I put the camera back on Walter and ask him if he has anything to say for the camera. He begins talking to the camera as if it represents people who aren't in the elevator, which makes me think of an awesome idea. I suggest to Walter that he should make a video to play at his funeral in case we don't make it out of the elevator. He immediately flips out and tells me to stop talking about the possibility of us dying. Mark - 3, Walter - 0.

6:54 - I decide that it would be awesome for me to make a video for my funeral, not only because it would be funny, but also because it would drive Walter insane, making it even funnier. I now realize that I am probably a little too mean to Walter, but this is a situation too good to pass up. I begin by saying that I love my family and miss them like crazy. I then request that they not release the footage to 20/20, should 20/20 choose to run a story on the four men who got stuck in an elevator in Minneapolis. Finally, I bequeath all my belongings to The Trillion Man March, should something go down. Unfortunately for you all, nothing did.

6:59 - Walter calls back the lady at the front desk. She claims they will be there soon to rescue us. She said the same thing 30 minutes ago. I ask Walter to put in a good word for me and to ask her what color of panties she is wearing. He does neither. I guess this was his payback to me. Mark - 3, Walter - 1. Walter asks her for a free iPhone since "I think my phone broke when the elevator messed up, so you guys should get me a new iPhone." Walter doesn't even have an iPhone to begin with, and the phone he does have is obviously not broken. It is unknown what her response was, but I heard Walter say "I was jusss messin' witchu...I'm sorry." I realize at this point that there is no way the people on the outside are doing all they can to rescue us after Walter's spectacular performance on the phone.

7:05 - A call comes in to Vince from our Director of Basketball Operations. He explains to Vince that the team meal is almost over and if we want any food we should hurry up and get out of the elevator. Vince explains that we aren't on the elevator by choice. Besides, Walter had brilliantly negotiated some free pizzas out of the deal.

7:07 - I call Keller and explain what is going on. He immediately suggests we sing Aerosmith's "Love In An Elevator" to pass the time. Vince and I begin singing it. Danny and Walter claim that the only Aerosmith song they know is "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing." They start singing that, completely oblivious to the fact that it simply doesn't apply to the situation like "Love In An Elevator" does. Plus, they are so off key that blood begins seeping from my eardrums. I ask them to please either stop singing or learn the words to "Love In An Elevator." They do neither. The tension begins to build.

7:09 - The four of us have now divided into two tribes. Vince and I were on the south side of the elevator and formed our own tribe named "Team Clyde Drexler." It is unknown what Walter and Danny on the north side named their tribe. The fact that they painted their faces and ripped off their shirts suggest their tribe is barbaric in nature and their minds are probably too underdeveloped to come up with a name for themselves. Vince and I realize the probability of us winning is minimal should a war break out, and quickly decide that we would be much better off if we engaged in a game of Scrabble against the people from the north side, instead of hand to hand combat.

7:11 - Everyone agrees that it's stupid to fight over which song to sing. We all agree that singing a different song would be much more fun anyway, even if it isn't applicable at all.

7:15 - The elevator begins moving. We drop down to the 8th floor. I push Walter out of the way so I can get a good shot of the welcoming party that is inevitably waiting on us. I'm picturing banners, balloons, confetti, news cameras, and an over-sized card signed by an entire elementary school waiting right outside the elevator.

7:17 - The door is still yet to open. I turn my camera off to conserve battery for the actual rescue. As soon as I power down the camera and begin putting it away, the door opens and the only person there is a middle aged lady with a name tag that read "Bernice." Walter asks if she was the lady we were talking to on the emergency phone in the elevator. Bernice confirms that she was. I immediately regret my request for her color of underpants.

7:18 - Danny texts one of the coaches and asks him what the team is doing. The coach says the team is about to start film. I am overwhelmed by the fact that they waited on me to get out of the elevator, but quickly realize they probably were waiting on Walter. Danny and Vince get on a different elevator. Walter takes the stairs. I follow Walter with my video camera on, just in case.

7:21 - We arrive to the film room. Walter was pretty reserved and didn't do anything crazy on the way down the stairs. Dang.

7:56 - We get out of film and two large pizza boxes are waiting. One has "Walter Offutt" written on it and the other "Mark 'The Shark' Titus." Danny is furious that his pizza is missing. Danny calls Vince and Vince explains that he got his pizza.

8:05 - Danny and I return to our room. I'm devouring my pizza in front of Danny. I explain how karma works and Danny is not impressed in the slightest. He calls the front desk asking for his pizza. The lady at the front desk claims she ordered one for him and placed it outside the film room. Danny swears his pizza was stolen. I think the lady knew it was his fault all along and "forgot" to get a fourth pizza for him. Either way, my pizza is delish and I'm not sharing.

After the entire fiasco went down, I went back and watched the tape I had recorded. To be honest, the footage was pretty awful, seeing as how I recorded extreme closeups of my buzzcut over the solid footage of Walter freaking out. It all worked out pretty well in the end, though, as we surmounted our obstacle of being stuck in an elevator. Great teams always find a way to battle through adversity and win, or in this case escape from a stuck elevator.

Before the Minnesota game I was approached by Minnesota's Director of Basketball Operations, Joe Esposito. He informed me that most of the Minnesota team reads the blog and Coach Tubby Smith has even taken a peek or two. Also, the Minnesota student section (not sure what they call themselves) heckled me the entire game and even started a "We Want Titus" chant towards the end of the game. A big thanks goes out to Minnesota's team for reading, but definitely not for beating us senseless in the game. And a thank you goes out to the student section for supplying the first "We Want Titus" chant ever on the road. Good work.

I dotted two new victims in our practice the day before the Minnesota game. Will Buford (who is kind of responsible for the elevator mishap, really) and Jeremie Simmons both fell victim to the smooth flowing jumpshot of The Shark. Two new victims made for a pretty fantastic day for me in the dotting business.

Bone- Crushing Screens: 1 to date (0 last game)

Your awesome YouTube was sent in to me by Greg D. There's your shout-out, Greg. And here's your video.

Here is the same video as a link, for all you iPhone users out there.

Your Friend and My Favorite,

Mark Titus
Club Trillion Founder

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Happy New Year

Hey, it's Andy here, Mark is on the plane for Minnesota, so he wanted me to come on here and clarify some things.

-THERE WAS NO CEASE AND DESIST FROM THE NCAA, NOR WAS THE NCAA INVOLVED IN ANY WAY. This has been reported inaccurately today by The Big Lead (who later changed what they said) and SI's Campus Clicks (who has not changed what they are saying). The bylaw Mark put down is fictitious and was added for humor, not fact. Bylaw 34.4.3? Mark Titus, #34, for 3. A joke. The NCAA? Aside from the title, they were never a part of it. Mark was told to remove the merchandise counter as a PRECAUTION, not as a CEASE AND DESIST in any kind of way.

-Mark is not selling any t-shirts, getting any money from their sales, or anything associated with that. It's very disappointing to see SI's "On Campus" homepage have the blurb "OSU backup busted" in the lead for you to go to the Campus Clicks. It's even more disappointing to see completely untrue reporting passed off as fact like "
he's even sold merchandise on the site. Unfortunately, the NCAA got word of his profitable business, and he was slapped with a cease and desist notice. Well, back to bench warming." As I stated, that is simply not true about both the merchandise, as well as the NCAA being involved in any way, shape, or form. The bench warming? Okay, we'll give you that. They even link to the blog where he explicitly explains how he did neither of those!

When Mark gets to Minneapolis, he might come on and edit some of this. Until then, I'm calling on the Trillion Man March to flood SI's Campus Clicks Mailbag, and any other kind of e-mail place on SI's website, and kindly demand that they remove what they said about Mark having any sort of NCAA violation and promptly apologize. Even better would be to find Nicki Jhabvala's e-mail address (she's the one that wrote the Campus Clicks) and send the messages directly to her.

After that, you guys should all check out a quality piece done on Mark today by the Minneapolis Star-Tribune. Now, back to the real reason you're here...

Personally, I think New Year's is a pretty sorry excuse for a holiday, but any holiday that allows me to shower confetti on people I've never met in my life is a holiday I will at least acknowledge. The start of a new year means I will inevitably fill out every form asking for the date with something like 1/12/08 and hope that whoever is processing the information can figure out what I meant to write. I'm particularly excited about one year from now because it provides the first opportunity in ten years to return to the format of saying the year as two numbers (i.e. Nineteen Sixty-Five), instead of the current system of one number (i.e. Two Thousand Seven). I sincerely hope America collectively decides to go with Twenty Ten and not Two Thousand Ten. It's less syllables and thus makes more sense. Who's with me on this one?

New Year's is also the only time of year I ever hear anybody use the word "resolution" when they should be using the word "goal." Well I'm not falling for into the resolution trap. I'm going to outline my New Year's Goals. And unlike your goal of losing 20 pounds, I actually plan on seeing these through. So without Freddy Adu, here are my top 10 goals (in no particular order) for 2009:

Play Los Feliz golf course in Los Angeles with Bill Simmons.

Los Feliz is the course played by Mike and Rob in "Swingers." If you are not familiar with this movie, please get off your computer, call the cool guy in your group of friends, and ask if you can borrow it so that you can escape the rut of mediocrity you currently live in. At the very least go to YouTube and type in "Swingers/Gretzky" and prepare to be blown away (I would link you to it, but it's got R-rated language and I try to run a family friendly operation here). After watching that scene, consider the fact that Keller bought me an authentic Roenick jersey from the Blackhawks for my birthday and I returned the favor and bought him a Chelios jersey that looks identical to mine. It's perfectly fine for you to admit that we are a little bit cooler than you originally thought. Anyway, Los Feliz is in L.A. and is probably a short three hour drive from Simmons' place in L.A. I'm thinking we get a camera crew to document what goes down and either release the footage or let me write a blog about it. I can't speak for his golf game, but I can assure you that my golf game can best be described as "entertainingly entertaining." All of you Simmons readers out there know that you would love to see this happen. Simmons, if you're down let me know.

Get a picture of Steve Perry wearing a Club Trillion T-shirt.

This is pretty self-explanatory. Steve Perry was the sole reason I got out of bed for a period of two years in my life. Everyday I would wake up and say to myself, "Life could be worse. Journey could have never existed." I know I claimed that these goals are in no particular order, but let's be honest, this is my #1 goal. I don't care if he doesn't read the blog or have any idea who I am. I just want to know that at some point in time Steve Perry had a Club Trillion T-shirt on. Even if he wears the shirt, takes the picture, and then gets rid of it and goes his separate way, I will be the happiest man in the world.

"Dot" Erin Andrews, if you know what I mean.

Because what I mean is making a jump shot over her outstretched arm. When she works our games, she usually comes to the shoot around in the morning and hobnobs with the superstars. Hopefully I can get her to put a hand up and hopefully I can muster the strength to actually shoot the ball and not stare in amazement. This could prove to be the toughest goal of all.

Win Deadspin's "Sports Human of the Year" Award.

Again, this one is kind of self-explanatory. The funny thing about the award is that you don't have to be good at sports or be a good human to win it. So while your immediate thought of "There's no way this bench-warming jerk can win that thing" may be an accurate description of me, it could also be a very inaccurate analysis of my chances at winning. Plus "Baby Mangino" can't win next year, so my chances of winning are that much greater.

Do a live television interview.

There is no reason why "First Take" or "Jim Rome Is Burning" doesn't bite on this. They both like obscure stories that you don't see everyday and I think this blog fits that mold. I don't want to go on TV to beat on my chest, though. I want to go on live TV for one reason only--to make our Sports Information Director, who will be standing just off camera, hyperventilate from nervousness about what I am going to say. I have a (misunderstood and highly inaccurate) reputation of being edgy with what I say and when I say it. Even though I completely understand what is appropriate, the perception is that I will go on live TV and drop four letter words like Braylon Edwards drops any ball thrown at him. The element of the unknown paired with an overall lack of trust will make our SID lose his mind as the interview approaches, which would be perfect.

Grow an iconic mustache in the off-season.

Let's think about the greatest mustaches the world has ever seen. Adam Morrison, Samuel Clemens, Mark Twain, the dude from MythBusters, Aaron Tippin, Jonah Takalua, B.J. Mullens, Jim Dangle, Ron Burgundy, Ravishing Rick Rude, Borat, Randy Marsh, Steve Smith, Sam Elliot, Carl Weathers, and Keller. What's that you say? What about people like Adolf Hitler, Saddam Hussein, Geraldo Rivera, and Keller? Good point. Maybe a mustache isn't such a great idea.

Learn Spanish slang from Rudy Fernandez.

It's no secret that I love Rudy Fernandez. Go ahead and make your "Is it coincidence that you love Rudy Fernandez and you are kind of like the 'Rudy' Ruettiger for Ohio State?" jokes. To answer your question, yes it is a coincidence. Rudy Fernandez is my favorite player on the Blazers, which says a lot considering my friend since junior high and former teammate Greg Oden plays for them. Come to think of it, why do I not just use Greg to see this goal through? Maybe that should be my next prank. For every month that goes by that I don't meet Rudy, I should give out a digit of Greg's phone number. Although, the dude's got more phones than Ari Gold, so he could just end up tossing the phone with the number I have. Still, meeting Rudy needs to happen. Plus, I'm teaching myself Spanish right now, but the software I'm using doesn't teach slang words. I could meet one of my favorite NBA players and enhance my Spanish-speaking abilities. Sounds like a great way to kill two stones with one bird.

Have an on-campus deli change the name of their club sandwich to "The Club Trillion."

This is a no-brainer. A majority of the people who eat at the cafeterias on campus are freshman. If there's one thing all freshman want (besides a fake ID) it's to be awesome, which I guess is why they get fake IDs in the first place. If there's one thing Club Trillion strives for, it's being awesome. So why not have a sandwich that exemplifies the awesomeness Club Trillion strives for. Freshman (and all people for that matter) would quite literally eat that up.

Get into some sort of exclusive place or bypass a long line because the owner/manager/whoever is throwing the party reads this blog.

This would make me a legend in my circle of friends. I'm not sure how this will come about, but when/if it happens, my mind will be blown. It's commonplace for average joes like you and I to be standing in line to get into anywhere, when suddenly a group of five guys wearing way too much jewelery bypass the entire line and walk right in. I used to be in that group (sans the jewelry) when Greg was on campus, but I have since been demoted. The perfect scenario for me to get redemption would be if we went somewhere as a team and one of the good players (preferably Evan Turner--duh) went up to the front of the line and dropped the "Do you know who I am?" routine. The bouncer or whoever would shake his head with a look of disgust until he looked at me, started laughing, and said something along the lines of, "Yo man, love the blog. These your boys? You guys are straight then, come on in." As the whole team walks by him, the bouncer would grab Evan's attention and say something like, "Why didn't you say you were Titus' boy?" at which point Evan would have that look on his face that suggests maybe it's time for him to re-evaluate his life.

Have a wrestling buddy made in my likeness. (Possible alternative: Tag-team wrestling buddies of Keller and me)

Fun Fact: I sleep with my Ultimate Warrior wrestling buddy every night. Not so much because I am a child and need protection from the Boogeyman, but rather because I truly believe that somehow Warrior's awesomeness is transmitted to me through osmosis (The man legally changed his name to Warrior and is from Indiana. How is that not awesome?). I'm not sure about today's America, but the America I remember when I was growing up had a rule that said if you didn't have a wrestling buddy, you didn't have power. Give today's kids a little history lesson in being awesome by letting them have a wrestling buddy. Parents who think I'm a bad influence would have an opportunity to buy something that allows their kids to beat the Michigan out of me. It's really a win-win situation that lacks any sort of evidence as to why it's not a good idea.

A lot of people are wanting me to bring back the #34 jersey counter. However, I am not going to do this for two reasons. The first being that if I can't count the t-shirts, I am certainly not going to support the team shop and their jerseys. Funny how when I promote the Ohio State team shop, it's all good, but when I promote anything other than the Ohio State team shop, the hammer is dropped. Consider this my sticking it to the man. Secondly, the first game after I stopped tracking the jerseys there were about 30 of them and that's way too much work. Deal with it.

Also, let me clear up a misconception and say I was not violating any NCAA rules. It was explained to me as more of a preventative thing than anything else. I understand your concern for my eligibility, but I assure you it's all good.

Bone-Crushing Screens: 1 to date (0 last game)

Here's your awesome YouTube clip, sent in to me by John G. There's your shout-out, John. And here's your video.

Here is the same video as a link, for all you iPhone users out there.

Your Friend and My Favorite,

Mark Titus
Club Trillion Founder