Fight On 2009!

Jericho is out of the country. The secret’s out of the bag. He’s in South America gallivanting with his best girl. Or fleeing those pedophile charges. Not sure which one. I haven’t talked to him in almost a week and its driving me nuts. I did however have an email from him waiting for me this morning. It was one sentence long and all it said was “I hope you’re betting the farm on the Ravens this weekend fag.” Damn him.

My new year’s resolutions:


1. Go to Spring Training
I’ve only done it once and it was incredible. A few years back my dad, my brother and I went down to Scottsdale to watch the Giants. The experience was priceless and every year we say we’re going to do it again. Well, now it’s a resolution on the blog. So let’s make this happen guys.


2. Spin kicks
When I was young I would practice spinning jump kicks all the time. Recently I realized it’s been years since I’ve brought one of these out. I think 2009 is the year the spin kick returns. You’ve been warned.


3. Finish my books
I love to read. And my wife, being the biggest nerd reader I know, perpetuates this addiction. The problem is we go to the book store too often and I wind up always buying a new book. So inevitably I never finish one book before starting another. I have so many books that are ½ or ¾ read right now. From now on I will not buy a new book until I’ve finished one in progress.


4. Set a ‘menu’ trap
We have a sign on our apartment building that says ‘no menus please.’ However, lo and behold, every day some ass clown drops off a menu for Pizza, Chinese or some other bullshit diarrhea restaurant in the area. Well, enough is enough. I’ve fantasized about rigging the entrance with a hybrid bear trap/steel cage torture device to catch these fuckers in the act. I haven’t worked out all the details yet but essentially the trap would slam shut around the perpetrator’s ankle while the steel cage slammed shut around the rest of their body. Then, the offending asshole would be force fed a collection of all menus we’ve collected over time. I haven’t figured out the force feed part yet. Is it a mechanical arm that does the force feeding and how do I pin their arms back and pry the mouth open? 2009 is the year I work out these kinks.


5. Start my book
I’m tired of saying I’m going to get this started. It’s time to start putting fingers to keyboard. If I’m ever going to quit my day job and move to a cabin in Vermont and grow a massive beard and eat soup out of a can and chop my own firewood and write the great American novel then I need to get this story off the ground in 2009.


6. Find a new drink
I love whisky. Love it. Tonight, being New Year’s Eve I set the over/under on my Whisky and Diet Cokes at 9.5. But I’ve found that it’s truly the only drink I have. I’ll have a glass of wine if I’m with friends at dinner, I’ll have a beer if I’m at a bar watching a game, but if it was up to me I’d opt for the Maker’s everytime. I need to shake it up a bit. Any ideas? And no, I don’t want to try a Vodka Tonic you sissy.


7. Drop a few lbs.
Here’s a secret I’ll let you in on. Sure, I’m devastatingly handsome and hung like a rhino but I have a bit of a “weight” problem. So it’s time to focus on not eating that 2nd triple cheeseburger and opting for the baby carrots instead.


8.Bet the farm on the Super Bowl
My cousin-in-law taught me this one. He told me he bets all football season and then bets every penny on the Super Bowl. I love this idea. It’s time to start saving for the granddaddy of them all. Wait, that’s the Rose Bowl. And I’m taking USC and giving the points tomorrow in that game.


9. Sell a screenplay
Not mine, Jericho’s screenplay. He’s written some killer scripts that need to be produced. Especially his last one. So my resolution is to do whatever I can to help him sell one of these fuckers. I can’t wait to be your Oscar date on the red carpet buddy. “And what are you wearing Magglio?” “The dress is Vera Wang, my heels are Dolce & Gabanna and the panties are my own design.”


10. Stretch
Something you may not know about me, I’m phenomenal at the Sit N Reach. Remember that test in grade school? Where you sit with your legs extended and see how far you can reach? Well I was amazing at it. Still am. Truth be told I was challenged 4 times in 2008 in the Sit N Reach and I walked away victorious in all 4. I’m thinking I should go to nearby elementary schools and start hustling 4th graders. In order to keep my streak alive I need to stretch more in 2009.



Have a good and safe New Years homos.


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Hello ladies...

Look at that photo. Are you kidding me? Look again. You think the sun shining on his face like an Angel sent from the heavens is a coincidence? Think again. That my friend was Patch on Xmas morning. Overjoyed at the new vest that Santa brought him. A little full from too many treats left in his stocking. His chest hair busting out of his vest like he was David Hasselhoff on a routine beach sweep. Yes, that my friends is a happy little dog.

Carry on.


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Is this week over yet?

If you’re reading this, then that means you’re most likely at work this week. Which sucks. Ideally it’s a half-cocked week where half the office is out and the half that’s in the office is more into discussing the bowl games and the upcoming NFL playoffs than actually doing work. Regardless, I feel for you. It’s no fun to be at work during weeks like this when you could technically not be in the office and NOBODY would notice. Whatever. If you’re reading this on some South Amercian beach where topless Brazillian chicks are running around playing futbol then more power to you. But if you're on your honeymoon on said topless beach then only steal glances secretly.


My thoughts on things and what not:


*There are 2 types of people in the universe. People who like Will Farrell and people who do not. I am someone who likes him. I think he’s funny. I fully accept that when I go to see one of his movies it will be absolutely stupid (besides Stranger Than Fiction, brilliant movie by the way), he’ll potentially do a character I’ve seen before and there will be moments of absolutely hilarity. But in the end I accept all of this and love him and will see any and all of his movies. For those of you in the other group. Those of you who say ‘he’s not funny’ or ‘I’ve seen Step Brothers 3 years ago when it was called Talledega Nights’. Blow me. Yes, that’s right, blow me.


*If Tom Brady never plays another down of football will he go into the Pro Football Hall of Fame? This guy was a lock. A no doubt, hands down lock to go to Canton. And now? With another knee surgery lingering and the possibility of missing another season becoming more and more realistic, where does he stand? He may never play again. Sure, he has 3 rings and 2 Super Bowl MVPs. But the stats just won’t be complete. Look at Terrell Davis. He dominated football for 7 seasons, has 2 Super Bowl Rings, a Super Bowl MVP and is the all-time leading rusher in Broncos history. But no Hall of Fame due to injury. I’m told Gale Sayers is in the HOF despite his career being cut short by injury. Can one of our older readers please let us know if Brady and/or Terrell Davis should be in the HOF based on the Gale Sayers argument? Thank you.


*I love the Giants signing of Randy Johnson. Love it. I don’t care if he’s 45 and coming off of his second major back surgery. If we can get 12-15 quality starts out of him then it’s worth it. He’s a force on the mound and you tell me what team wouldn’t want him as their number 4. My prediction; once one of our young arms prove themselves (Bumgarner, Alderson) we’ll make a move for a bat. But the team as it currently stands is rock solid. We’ve improved our pitching staff (Affeldt) and just signed a guy named Jesus. Seriously. His name is Jesus. Mark my words, the Giants will contend this year.


*Current Super Bowl odds; (The odds are read in increments of $100 meaning if you put down $100 on the Cardinals to win the Super Bowl then you get $5000 in return.)

Arizona Cardinals +5000
Atlanta Falcons +2000
Baltimore Ravens +1200
Carolina Panthers +500
Indianapolis Colts +1000
Miami Dolphins +2500
Minnesota Vikings +2500
New York Giants +250
Philadelphia Eagles +1000
Pittsburgh Steelers +450
San Diego Chargers +1000
Tennessee Titans +600

Thoughts? The Colts and Ravens sure look tempting.


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Fuck you miss

Apple:
Dude, this Xmas I got a pooping reindeer. You may have seen this before. The concept is truly brilliant. It’s a reindeer stuffed with brown Jelly Belly’s who “poops” when you push down on its back. It’s like Paris Hilton if you replaced the candy with coke and the pushing down on its back with blowing a load on her tits. Not sure what that meant. But man wouldn’t that make a great stocking stuffer? Think about it. A pocket Paris. Imagine the commercials…”Now you can “B” an “L” on her “T’s” in the comfort of your own home!” Say what you will, but that bitch is still banging. And I think at this point she’s even better in bed because she’s got a reputation to uphold.


Moustache:
I won my fantasy league. Yes I did. Thank you. No, stop you’re making me blush. Here was my starting lineup in the championship game; Matt Schaub, Maurice Jones-Drew, Sammy Morris, Marques Colston, Randy Moss, Bang Bang Eddie Royal, Jason Witten, Ryan Longwell and the Ravens Defense. Despite Schaub’s zero TD performance I won 107-95. My WRs all had big days lead by Colston’s 2 scores. This is my second time winning this league which means my farewell email to my league this year was beyond offensive. Now pay the birthday boy!


Apple:
Speaking of…if I know you, and I like you, then save-the-date this Febuary 7th. My birthday is coming up and that’s the date we’ve chosen to celebrate. My wife is doing all the planning so all I have to do is show up, be amazing and wear something off the hiz hiz. I’m already starting to plan my outfit.


Moustache:
There’s a generational gap when it comes to giving directions. My new pet peeve is when somebody tries to explain to you how to get somewhere. Just give me the address. Stop telling me about turning left at the red house or going two blocks and then turning at the first right past the 7-Eleven. Just give me the address. For the most part this seems to happen with people who are older than me. And maybe its my new iPhone that makes me want to skip directions and go straight to Google Maps. (yes, I got an iPhone and yes, I’m terrified about breaking/losing/mangling/dry humping my iPhone. Pray for me.)


Apple:
The Niners finished the season with a bang. This team is moving in the right direction. My friend R. Kelly tells me we’re a good right tackle away from the playoffs. I think we’re a Michael Crabtree and a full season under Coach Singletary away from making a serious run in the playoffs. The Niners finished 7-9. What the fuck? I’ll type that again just for fun….The Niners finished 7-9!


Moustache:
Two bets were made at the beginning of the season. I picked the Chicago Bears to win less than 8 games this year. They finished 9-7. Fuck you Kyle Orton. I also picked the Pittsburgh Steelers to win more than 9.5 games. They finished 12-4. I’m waiting to see the Super Bowl lines when they come out tomorrow morning but I’m thinking of putting something down on the Steelers and maybe even the Ravens. Though I think the Panthers are the strongest team, this shit never turns out like you think it will. Stay tuned. (side note: Hey KK, thanks for the tip on Hawaii over Notre Dame in the Grilled Stuft Burrito Hand Job bowl. Awesome. Really cool. Glad I rely on you for gambling advice.)


Apple:
Over Xmas I saw 3 movies. Here’s my KB reviews in honor of A&M’s good friend KB.
*Milk – It was great.
*Nothing but the Truth – Loved it.
*Last Holiday starring Queen Latifah – What the fuck?


Moustache:
Who else is watching Summer Heights High on HBO? Holy fuck. I can’t get enough. I’m still only 5 episodes deep so I’m not caught up but this shit is brilliant. I can’t stop calling everything ‘random’ and I’ve got that damn song in my head “…she’s got a bad habit, bad habit…” Now you do too. Hopefully.



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Closed for XMAS

Apples & Moustaches will be closed for the Xmas holiday. We will return on Monday December 29th. In the meantime be sure to tell your friends about Apples & Moustaches and the handsome sons-a-bitches that make it go 'round.

Mailbag

Since we've been out we've received a slew of emails from concerned readers. Some were just checking in, some sent topless photos trying to entice us to keep writing (thanks Kendall) and one promised a vial filled with tears to prove the pain we've caused (suck it up KK!).

We decided to field a few….here they are:



Hey guys, how was the man date?

Fantastic. Better than advertised. Over the top fun. Our waiter was a big fat guy who liked fantasy football. Sitting next to us was a grown man and his parents who decided this particular steakhouse would be the place to tell them that he loves cock and his roommate 'Chris' was actually his slam piece. You could cut the tension with a knife. It was an ideal situation. The steaks were massive. The drinks were stiff. And no, I didn't whip my balls out. Jericho pulled out a joint as we exited the dinner and we even invited an innocent bystander to join us. It truly was the season of giving. (Important to note, he used Randys…for those of you that dance, Randys is like sucking on some tits while they're propped up in a push-up bra. Its fun either way, but the push-up just adds an exciting convenience factor. Am I wrong?)

My wife made an incredible cameo late night and led us to a crowded bar with a gigantic Bigfoot standing in the middle of the room. We stumbled into a booth and slammed cheap beer while bad indie rock blasted in our ears. It couldn't have gone any better.



First time writer, long time reader…Did either of you make the Fantasy playoffs?

Yes. I did. And I'm playing in the championship game this weekend. Once Jericho was eliminated I immediately hired him as the Director of Psycho Analytics, a very important position on my staff. You see, when we get this close, I like to flip the fuck out. I make dumb decisions. I worry like I was Danny Pintauro looking for work during this economic downturn. Jericho is there to calm me down. So, yes. We're playing for all the marbles this weekend. 1-0. That's my only focus. Just one game. Hold the baby, kiss the baby. Hold the baby, kiss the baby.



Hi Magglio – I think you're so sexy. Why didn't your phone work the past few days?

Funny story actually. Stay with me on this one. I got a quick phone call from the wife on Monday afternoon. Truth be told she was the only one talking. It went something like this: "Stop using your phone. We're switching plans. I'm getting an iPhone. You can't get one. Stop using your phone." Click. That was it. So, yes, I got a new phone. No, it's NOT an iPhone. In the end it was the right call. If you've been following along I've broke about 3 phones in the last 6 weeks and there is no insurance on an iPhone. So this time I picked the phone that was red and white just like The White Stripes. It's slow and clunky but it screams Jack White. And everytime it rings I go from 6 to 12.



Um, I have a problem. I love dudes but I have a small mouth. What should I do?

Well TahoeSanta, that sounds like its genetic. So you could either a) start sucking on softballs to loosen up those baby makers or b) stop sucking dick!



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And I told you to be patient

Five reasons we haven’t posted this week:


1. We can’t stop listening to Bon Iver



2. We’re busy. I know, fuck you too. That’s no excuse. Let me just say Jericho is being a big fat bitch lately. What once was endless banter from Jericho at work has turned into “So busy buddy.” Or “Talk soon, got a meeting.” Fuck you Jericho, we all have meetings.



3. We’re overwhelmed with the news that U2 will have a new album out in March of 2009. No we’re not. Put them on my list of ‘suck a dick’ bands along with Smashing Pumpkins, Counting Crows and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Yeah, I said it.



4. We’re protesting the delay of the California State Budget being signed and refuse to write until it is approved. That’s not true, but it has gotten ridiculous. One thing I never thought about during this whole “USA in the Toilet” era we’re living through is the impact it will have on kids. Art programs get cut, pay for teachers is down which means more perverts teaching kids, and 7th graders are huffing more paint than ever before. (Bigger and better than ever! Check the cliché!)



5. We’ve been too busy jerking off to pictures of Rumer Willis.



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Xmas Man Date 2008

by Magglio and Jericho


Tomorrow night is a special night for us. You see, it’s our Xmas man date. We haven’t been on a man date since April and we're way over due. We’ve selected the best steak house in town, the girls have been sent out to bump fur or whatever it is they do and the whiskey will be flowing. Are you fired up or what?

10 predictions for our Man Date this Friday night:


1) We'll cheers at least 5 or 6 times, each time saying "we're the toughest fucking guys in San Francisco" and be 100% serious.


2) Magglio will go to town when the bread comes at the beginning of the meal. Jericho will shake his head disapprovingly and Magglio will retaliate with “Fuck you. I can have a piece of bread” of which Jericho will respond “Don’t fill up on that, we’ve got a big meal ahead of us.” This will in fact be the gayest we will be all night.


3) The five words that will be repeated the most throughout the meal: cunt, please, delicious, more, cuntiest.


4) Magglio will order the 24oz Porterhouse. Jericho will opt for the 12oz filet and try to reason “it’s a nice cut of meat.” After 2 and a half minutes of increasingly aggressive insults in front of the waiter, Jericho will cave and get the 16oz New York Strip. Magglio will nod approvingly.


5) Magglio will threaten to pull his balls out at least 7 times. For the first 6, Jericho will say “please don’t” – on the 7th and final, out of exhaustion he’ll say “ok, fuck, do it then.” To which Magglio will say “you wish, fag!”


6) Reactions when getting their steaks: Magglio: I'm going to beat this steak like Spencer beats Heidi. Jericho: Look at this fucking thing! It's almost as big as Greg Oden's dick!


7) At least three times during the meal, Magglio will tap the waitress on the butt and say, "how about another round for the two biggest assholes in the place, sweetheart." FYI, by waitress we mean a 65 old gay man named Alain.


8) Around the 2/3 mark of the steak, Jericho will sigh audibly and lean back in his chair. Magglio will stare menacingly at him until he resumes eating.


9) Jericho, aiming to be the most controversial of the night will say, “at the end of the day, I would totally watch Anderson Cooper in a gay porn, but only if he had a full suit on the whole time.” Not to be outdone and without batting an eye Magglio will counter, “trust me on this one, you definitely want the suit off, guy’s got an ass like a fucking garbage disposal – it just grinds up dick.”

10) Lines walking out of the restaurant: Magglio: shit, we did more damage than Kobe in a Colorado hotel room. Jericho: I feel like Paris Hilton I’ve got so much meat in me.




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Wednesday Quick Day

You know who’s a totally underrated hot chick? Lynne Spears, Britney’s Mom. That’s an old-school slut right there. She’d suck you off so hard your car would start.

Like a lot of you, Magglio has really been struggling emotionally with his attraction to Sarah Palin. He wants to kill her and do her in equal measure. Here’s my two cents: you can separate the “hot” from the “chick” – it’s okay to be attracted to someone completely loathsome, after all, you can hate a bitch, but you can’t hate a tit.

After taking an unintentional break from Jack White the last few weeks, I finally realized the error of my ways and threw on Consolers of the Lonely this afternoon. Let me put it this way, say you've been on a desert island for 6 months and get rescued - your first drink of water is Dave Matthews, your first bite of food is Radiohead, but your first piece of pussy is Jack White. The water and food is just pure rejoicing, but you get nervous when the pussy comes out, but totally excited at the same time. If anyone can sum Jack up better than that you have my gratitude.

Here’s a question, is Beyonce’s “I am Sasha Fierce” album the first concept album to not have a concept? Can someone please explain the difference between Sasha and Beyonce?

I think if you had a roto draft for the current SNL players it would go like this:

Amy Proehler: $39.00
Kristen Wiig: $37.50
Andy Samberg: $31.75
Jason Sudeikis: $27.75
Will Forte: $25.00
Seth Myers: $23.25
Fred Armisen: $22.50
Bill Hader: $21.00
Darrell Hammond: $15.75
Keenan Thompson: $14.00
Casey Wilson: $11.00
Bobby Moynihan: $9.75

My draft strategy? I pony up for Samberg (purely based on viral appeal), then do everything I can to grab Hader (the most underrated cast member in my opinion) and Moynihan (a rising star) in the later rounds. I’d feel pretty good about trotting out a Hader – Samberg – Moynihan lineup.

Welcome to Husky Nation

A few quick tips for new Washington football coach Steve Sarkisian...

-Know your Don James history. Seriously. The whole city of Seattle can not only rattle off Coach James’ all time record at UW (153-57-2) but can also tell you his favorite food (haystacks), favorite fruit (papaya) and his shoe size (11). You think I’m joking? This is like asking Tony Romo who his favorite receiver is when the game is on the line (the safety), Heidi Montag what she wants to be when she grows up (a unicorn) and CC Sabathia where he wants to play baseball next season (cheesesteaks). Not sure any of that made sense. But did you know Don James has 4 Rose Bowl wins in 6 tries and 99 Pac-10 wins, still a record?


-You need a schtick. Jim Lambright had hairy balls. Rick Neiuhasal had the sweater vest. And Keith Gilbertson had bitch tits. What will your legacy be?


-The chicks get better looking when the sun comes out. You can’t do any worse than the slap dick you just replaced. The rain may go away but it will always be grey outside. Yes, everyone drinks coffee. Jake Locker may be the second coming so use him wisely. The best team in the entire city right now call themselves the Storm. Isaiah Thomas is playing basketball but he’s only 18 years old. Everyone drives a Subaru wagon. They call soda, pop.


-But most importantly Steve, despite the past 7 seasons, we fully expect to be competing for the National Championship every single season. That is not a joke. We’re trusting you with the keys to one of the best programs in the country. You should feel honored to take the wheel and we’re excited to have you on board. Go Dawgs.

A Few A&M Quickies

• Okay, here’s my question, why do they never have a camera crew where Mort is? Where the fuck does he go? You’re telling me there isn’t one camera in the vicinity? “And for more on Daunte Culpepper’s allergies, here’s Mort, live from the Bermuda triangle.”

• I really like the Killers, but they want to be Queen so bad it’s getting a little embarrassing. If the lead singer starts blowing random people in the crowd we may have to have an intervention

• Three things that will always baffle me no matter how many times they are explained: 1) How planes fly 2) How printers work 3) Why really famous, really handsome celebrities grow dumb, little moustaches

• Number 3 is especially pertinent, have you seen Brad Pitt lately? Shit, Maddox finally got his first pube and fake Dad fucking shaved it off and glued it to his nose.

• I never thought I’d say this, but I definitely don’t want to have sex with Madonna anymore. She’s still hot and all, but honestly, I think it’d hurt. Her buttcheeks are like two sawed-down bricks. Can you imagine slamming into her as hard as you can (b/c you know you don’t tap Madge) for 20 minutes? It’d be like trying to get a first down against the Ravens and then trying to fuck Haloti Ngata in the pile.

• While we’re chatting about Madonna, I think A Rod might be the only guy in the history of the world who would answer the “how’s my dick taste question?” Can’t you see Guy bumping into A Rod at JFK, asking that question with a “I’ve had 14 beers even though I’m dead sober” smirk and then having A Rod purse his lips and say “it tastes like cherry coke, Guy, flat cherry coke,” and then saunter away triumphantly?
  

• One more Madonna / Guy / A Rod joke, you know those weird Verizon commercials when someone points over their shoulder at the “network” and that weird looking cunt with the glasses is standing there with a “suck that, Class of 91!” look on his face? Wouldn’t it be amazing if Guy saw A Rod at the airport and said, “oh by the way, it’s not just my dick, it’s our dicks,” and then points over his should at everyone Madonna’s ever slept with? Rodman, Canseco, Sean Penn, Warren Beatty, Santa Claus, Vanilla Ice, Michael Jackson, David Blaine, JKF Jr., the tiger that mauled Roy…

• So the Lions are 0-12, horrible defense, pitiful offense, have no hope, no good young players other than Calvin Johnson, basically the laughing stock of the league. Now, let’s say Rod Marinelli goes to his boss’ office and asks for a 10 yr extension but doesn’t present any kind of plan for improving the team, he just brings pictures of his kids and his assistants’ kids and says how much it will totally suck for everyone involved if he gets canned. Isn’t that exactly what the Big 3 just did?

• Okay, okay, I get it, Britney is healthy now, clean, sober. But when did her face get so manly? What the fuck happened? I watched a few minutes of that MTV documentary and kept thinking to myself, “man, Ryan Philippe is totally going to win an Emmy for this.”

• I didn’t like the new Kanye the first time I heard it, but it’s growing on me in a hurry. After all, new Kanye is new Kanye. Let’s say you’re fooling around with your girl and she starts to go down on you – but then, all of a sudden she says, “you know what? I’m bored with plain old BJs.” So she stands you up, directs you to lay face down on the kitchen counter with your bottom half hanging over the edge, then she kneels beneath you, supports your legs with her hands and then and blows you that way. I mean, it’s kinda weird and unexpected, but it’s still head, right? Once is weird, twice is better and after 15 times you can’t remember ever feeling like it was strange. That’s the new Kanye.

I can tell that we are gonna be friends

I want to have Jack White’s baby.

That was my Facebook status update today. I share that with you because most likely you’re not my friend on Facebook. Don’t take offense. On here, in this here blog world, you’re my good friend. We’re close. If I had something in my teeth I’d expect you to let me know. If you needed a shoulder to cry on then go on, let us hear about it in the comment section. We’re with you. But in the real world? Not so much.

I bring this up because today it slipped at work that I have a blog. Ouch. I hate that. The last thing I need is my co-workers reading my thoughts on Selma Hayak’s major yabbos!

(They’re like mini-basketballs. No, they’re like puff pastries fresh outta the oven. I want to stick my nose right in there. I want to dab each of them with a little bit of honey, sprinkle them with some powdered sugar and enjoy. Thoroughly enjoy. I want to crawl inside of them and conduct a puppet show with a moral lesson at the end for the kids. Remember a few years back when some supermodel got her tits insured for a million dollars? Well what are we doing for Selma’s bad boys? These need their own branch of government. These things could cure old age. For fuck’s sake! I don’t care if you’re a dude or a chick but the picture from yesterday's post should be in a museum. Am I wrong?)

Where were we? Oh right. These are thoughts I only share with my friends.

I have a really hard time mixing work and real life. A really hard time. And I bring this up because Facebook seems to be the point at which both worlds collide. Hear me out. I’m on Facebook. I collect friends. I spy on people from High School who have become uncomfortably heavy. I do my best to make people laugh with my status updates. But a few days ago I got a friend request from a chick I work with. I didn’t know what to do. If I ignore her then it’s gonna get awkward at work if it ever comes up. If I accept then my life is over. I don’t want her to see pictures of me hammered or wall postings from my slap dick friends. That’s for me to enjoy. When I’m away from work. When I can be myself.

I’m completely different at work. Please know this about me. I don’t talk about my junk, I don’t make jokes about little boys and I sure as shit don’t talk about what I actually did on the weekends. That’s for my friends. That’s for you all. That’s not for my co-workers to know about. I’m a respectable citizen of the working world. I’m not trying to be elitist. And I don’t think my shit don’t stink. (Check that sentence English majors.) But you know what? That’s my stink. And I hold its fumes close to my heart.

To be honest, I’ve never shared the applesandmoustaches.com link on Facebook either. It’s just another piece of me that I’d like to keep separate. I don’t want my neighbor from 5th grade who won’t shut up how much he misses his ‘boo’ to be in on this little joke we have going on here.

I’d be a terrible famous person.

Jericho and I have talked about it. We came to the conclusion that we are completely different people in the real world then we are on this blog. On the blog, I am a bit gentler, write about my feelings and always get mad at him when he berates a commenter (sorry Mark. Actually I don’t think Mark ever came back after that last one.) In real life I like to tip a few back and knock over furniture. Jericho on the other hand writes about pedophilia, sodomy and Shaun Alexander’s vagina. In real life Jericho’s a peach. A gentle flower with soft hands.

I just can’t do it. It’s a slippery slope. First one co-worker’s my friend, then another. Then I’m saying things on my Facebook status like “peanut oil is a tasty substitute for olive oil” and “Mondays sure are the pits!”

Fuck that.






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Sweet Candied Yams

My hands are cold today.

I tried to warm them by sitting on them, but then I couldn’t type. I drank a cup of tea and spilled some on my crotch and got laughed at by co-workers. Maybe I should switch to V8. Then more girls would like me.

(That was my Matthew Berry impression. That guy’s a major d-bag. Am I wrong?)

Welcome back from Thanksgiving, hope everyone’s blah blah blah filled with good times and cheer. Me? I ate way too much. I know everyone says this, but I actually did eat way too much. I perfectly timed my Thanksgiving dinner so I was at maximum hunger and maximum stomach capacity at the time of mastication. (Yes, you read that correctly. Hunger and stomach capacity are two separate and equally important factors to consider when trying to maximize your food intake. Consider this your gastro tip of the day.) I spent the rest of the day immobile, hiccupping and feeling disgusting. Pretty sexy huh?

Let’s get to it.


Apple
Lane Kiffen signed to be the head coach of Tennessee next season. Chalk it up as another loss for Washington. There was some good momentum around Kiffen joining the Dawgs up north but obviously the allure of rednecks and big haired trophy wives sounded better. Whatever Lane. I hope you’re paired with Peyton on Alumni bowling night and you have to listen to him tell his crazy Toga party stories, “…and then me and the fellas picked some branches off a tree and made them into crowns. The Greek’s used called them Laurel Crowns. My daddy lets me wear a crown on my birthday cause he says I’m a special boy….”



Moustache
New Kanye album is out now…Stream it for free here. At first listen I love it. Jericho wants to debate the album in an upcoming post so I’ll save my thoughts for later.



Apple
I ain’t no holla back girl.



Moustache
I’m having a great hair day today. I feel bad for my hair stylist (yes I have a hair stylist) because she only sees me when I look like Richard Simmons and desperately need some help or when I look like a shorn sheep right after the hair cut and I should be in hiding for about 2 weeks. If she could only see her work in action today…she’d take a snapshot and include it in her hair portfolio NO! She’d make it the LEAD photo in her hair portfolio.



Apple
Unless Sage Rosenfels throws for 8tds and 700 yards tonight I’ve officially made the playoffs in both of my leagues. Holy shit. I don’t think I’ve done that ever before. If nothing else I can be proud of the season I put together based on:
1) Drafting ‘Bang Bang’ Eddie Royal before he was known to the rest of the fantasy world.

2) Trading for Tony Romo but not starting him until I got every bit of goodness out of Tyler Thigpen.

3) Starting Ted Ginn Jr and Matt Jones during their hot streaks and letting them ride the bench when they cooled off

4) Picking up the Ravens D after week 1 (thanks Jericho)

5) Drafting Aaron Rodgers and Matt Forte.

Now let’s see if I can be more Philadelphia Phillies rather than Tampa Bay Rays during my return to the post season.



Moustache
I went to the Dr last week cause I wasn’t feeling well. Among other things, he told me to stop using Q-tips in my ears. He could tell by looking in them because he said he could see scaring. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I didn’t use Q-tips this morning. Do you know what that’s like? It’s like sitting in a packed church that’s dead silent and trying to hold in uncontrollable laughter. It’s like going to Tepia Taqueria, ordering the Burrito Supreme then being stuck on a boat for the next 4 hours. It sucks. My ears have been itching all day.



Apple
Big ups to Michael and David…two of my cousins who are regular readers of this blog. (I love saying “big ups” like I’m black. Or ‘I ain’t no holla back girl’ like I’m a skinny white girl trying to be black.)



Moustache
Thanks for reading. Here's our gift to you...a joke, try it out in your fantasy league now........"Remember when Plaxico was so pissed at being on (fill in friend's name here) team that he shot himself in the leg? Can't blame him can you?"






*

An A&M Quickie

A Few Quick Hits:

• Let me put it this way, I never bring bathroom towels to the beach for the same reason I don’t want to have anal sex with my wife: once it’s out there you can’t take it back. The towel will always be the one that smells like sand and your wife will just be a girl that takes it in the ass.

• Here’s a book I’d definitely buy: A guide to making sounds and proper hand placement while receiving oral sex by George Clooney.

• Why didn’t Popeye have spinach on him at all times? That will always baffle me.

• To me, homosexuality is like peanut butter, I decided a while ago that neither was for me, but I have no problem with either of them existing. In this scenario, gay marriage would be like a peanut butter and banana sandwich, I’m not going to partake myself, but it will not affect my life one way or another if someone eats one.

• Having a good fantasy team is kind of like having sex with your wife, you pretty much know right away if it’s going to happen or not. You can push, you can fight, and every now and then you get surprised, but more often than not the first few moments will tell you everything.

• Microsoft’s new “I’m a PC” ad campaign is akin to getting raped in a prison shower and then bragging loudly at dinner about how you clenched your butt cheeks so tight that there’s no way the guy enjoyed his orgasm.

• The “Who Wore it Best” section of trashy magazines has to be the most ridiculous part of the trashy magazine era. Comparing Charlize Theron to a chick from Gossip Girl is like chiding a zebra for losing a swimming race to a dolphin. Charlize, Heidi Klum, Megan Fox and all the Victoria’s Secret models are not from our Phylum and comparisons to other Phylum are moot.

• If I were a CMO at a light beer company, here’s the only ad slogan I would approve: “It’s on Sale!”

• Does GAP have any idea who they’re customers are? Who are these ads supposed to target? You walk into a GAP and it’s painfully obvious who the clothes are made for: pussies and assholes, but the ads don’t seem to serve any purpose. Jason Bateman and his daughter are pretty cute, but how is that supposed to reach my inner pussy?

A happy ending...

“Sidney Ponson…ingredients for a turkey burger….the 1989 Oakland A’s starting line up in fielding order…Mr. Mariano’s Italian class…”

These were the thoughts running through my head last night while wearing nothing but a robe and plastic flip flops that were 4 sizes too small. I was sitting in a dimly lit room that smelled like cucumbers and freedom as I waited for the knock at the door. Yes, I got a massage last night.

This wasn’t my first rodeo. No, I have had two before. Both were on vacation while in Hawaii. Both took place in outdoor huts where you could hear turtles mating and the masseuses (how crazy is that word?) all had dread locks and could hook up a bag of weed afterwards.

But this time I decided to change up the rotation a bit. I was going to go with a male masseuse. Now, before you make that weird face and start to question if my references to David Beckham and Ryan Reynolds weren’t just for laughs, let me explain. Chicks aren’t strong. It’s the truth. They have small hands, small muscles and I was 2 for 2 on a weak ass rub down. It felt like my mom was gently rubbing my back to put me to sleep. Look, I can take my shirt off and have Patch walk up and down my back if I need a tickle. I call that Tuesday night. But not when I’m paying for it. I want a grown up massage. I wanted to figure out why my wife loves massages so much. I wanted to be sore the next day. (insert butt joke here.)

So there I was. Brainstorming everything I could so if and when it came down to it, being oiled down by another dude and sporting a huge boner, I could properly talk myself out of it. I had perfected this mental preparation in elementary school…who hasn’t? (side note: it works during sex also, to last longer. Try it.) Is there anything out there more terrifying guys? I mean, if it’s a chick giving you a massage, sure it’s embarrassing. But half of you wants it to turn into a porn where she smiles and asks if you’d like her to take care of it for you and the other half of you knows that it’s totally fine…she’s a chick. She’s used to seeing a dong in her face. She calls it a Wednesday night. But a dude? How could I explain this? How could I explain this to myself? I would forever question my sexuality and quickly understand my years of underachieving in fantasy football. The anticipation was causing anxiety like you wouldn’t believe. What if he thought I requested a male because I was gay? What if he was gay? What if I knew him? What if he knew me? What if a finger got a bit too oiled up and slip, right in the butt? I was terrified. This was a horrible, horrible idea.


Well, I’m happy to report (or sad to report you sick fucks) that there was zero movement downtown. Nothing. Not even a wrinkle. All thoughts/fears of sexual arousal disappeared immediately. The guy introduced himself and acknowledged that I was at the spa with my wife. Whew. After about 3 minutes I quickly forgot my homophobic worries and spent the rest of my time doing endless calculations of the overall ROI of the massage. Was it worth it? How many rubs per body part per dollar were spent? Is this what is supposed to be happening? Does this feel better than if my wife, a non professional masseuse was rubbing my shoulders? Is this what it feels like for Patch when I rub his neck? Are there dog masseuses? Who would pay for that shit? I bet weirdos in LA pay for dog massages. Ok, if I had the money I’d totally get Patch a hot female masseuse. What would he want her to wear? What would I want her to wear? It was exhausting.

It was like taking a bum hit of ecstasy and having a few beers while you wonder the whole time if you’re actually feeling the effects or if you’ve just talked yourself into it. (side note: if you have to ask yourself, then nope, it didn’t work. Take another.)

I still don’t get it. Sure, I felt good and relaxed afterwards. But for the price we paid, I don’t know if it’d go again. I’d rather put it on Atlanta at home giving 1.5 against Carolina this week parlayed with the Niners getting 11 at home against Dallas.

But I’d definitely ask for a dude again. This much I know for sure.




*

An A for you and an M for me

Apple
Look, sometimes the universe just doesn’t want you to win. Case in point, I was dropping the kids off at the pool, stood up and the seat cover came with me, dripping pee and water on to the front of my pants. So now it looks like I peed myself, which, for all practical purposes, I guess I did, but as any self-respecting whiskey drinker can attest to, when I piss myself I mean to piss myself. Whiskey drinkers don’t piss themselves on accident – when you set down that halfer of Makers on the counter you are basically saying to the guy at the counter, “yeah I’m pissing myself tonight what the fuck are you going to do about it?”


Moustache
I’ve got a gnarly cold and have been overdosing on Tylenol Cold and Chamomile the last few days. Hey, is just me, or when you see the word “Chamomile” do you instantly think of a girl in tight spandex pants with a really noticeable clump of butt hair, aka, Camel Heel? Or is that just me?


Apple
I’m sorry, but calling Sarah Palin a “star” is kind of like calling Brad Johnson a “quarterback.” Republicans, if this is your great hope for 2012, you might want to start drinking Drano. There’s a lot she can read, a lot of knowledge she can acquire in 4 years, but you can’t learn smart. McCain couldn’t get younger between 2004 and 2008, and Palin can’t get smarter by 2012. Anyone see that interview where she admitted that she didn’t know Africa was a continent? Honestly, a lot can be taken out of context and a lot of the shit politicians say can be easily explained, but I dare anyone to counter that one. Africa? I mean, Bush can’t talk too good, but I do think he knows the continents.

(Which might be the most amazing part of the Palin era, the fact that she makes all rational, thinking people look at Bush and say, “you know what? Maybe he’s not so dumb afterall.” This may be the last great move of the Rove era, knowing that McCain had no chance whatsoever, he pushed for a VP candidate that would somehow make Bush look a little better on his way out. The equivalent to this would be hooking up with the ugliest girl in college, then immediately walking up the second ugliest girl and punching her in the face. Then you can go to all your friends and say “see, look at ugliest girl in college, she’s not so bad now, huh?”


Moustache
Way too early Oscar Predictions:

Picture: Milk (call this a hunch, but with all the noise about Prop 8 this pic is coming at an absolutely perfect time, feels right to me)

Director: Christopher Nolan, Dark Knight (I do think Dark Knight becomes the first comic book movie to get a best pic nom, which is really all you can hope for, everything about the Dark Knight was great, great performances, great sets, great writing, but at the at end of the day it’s Nolan’s show and he fucking announced himself in a big way and the Academy will want to recognize that)

Actor: Clint Eastwood, Gran Torino (this is a complete fucking hunch, but Clint announced a year ago that this would be the last time he’d be in front of the camera and I think the Academy won’t want to let one of most Oscar-friendly stars in history ride off into the sunset (prerequisite cowboy joke) without a lil gold fella)

Actress: Kate Winslet, Revolutionary Road (Big year for Kate, I think she actually will have two nominations in this category, one here and one for The Reader – marking her 6th and 7th nominations overall – kind of crazy that the best actress of her generation doesn’t have a trophy yet, something the Academy will fix this year)

Supporting Actor: Ralph Fiennes, The Duchess (I do think Heath gets nominated, but Ralph is an industry favorite who’s never won and gives two enormous performances in this movie and in The Reader, think of this as a culmination award)

Supporting Actress: Meryl Streep, Doubt (The minute this script landed on her desk she was already nominated, just a hunch here, but I think the Academy is ready to make her the most decorated person in history)


Apple
I took Mrs. Royall to Cyrus the other night, a 5 star restaurant in Healdsburg, CA that has a “Chef’s Choice” Menu – you basically don’t order, they just bring you course after course of the most exotic, strange, weirdly delicious food you’ve ever had in your life. If you’ve never had an experience like this, French Laundry is another one, I highly recommend it, the service is out of this world, the little things like the linens and silverware are like nothing you’ve ever seen and the food is unbelievable – a once in a lifetime experience all the way around. A few observations:

- At the end of the day, the food that you recognize and have had before is by far the best. We had squash spaghetti with pumpkin sauce that tasted like nothing I’ve ever had before, no precedent for it, and it was unbelievably good, but at the end of the day the duck breast is what I remember most. Here’s the analogy for this. Let’s say you’re in a dark, swanky club. Nine bands get up and play one song each. The squash spaghetti is the greatest band in the history of Denmark – you appreciate them for their artistry, for the fact that they don’t sound like anything else you’ve ever heard. But a few bands later, here comes the fucking White Stripes, they don’t say a word they just fucking launch into seven nation army – they greatest performance of their greatest song. That’s the duck breast – you dig?
- The service was so fucking good that at one point I expected a waiter to offer to burp me. You can imagine that can’t you? Waiter saunters over, extends his arm with a freshly washed towel draped over it, and I lean over while another waiter gently taps my back until I burp. Hell, they might even have a special burping menu and you can pick which technique you want. “I’ll have that pat, tap, tap, tap and the lady will have the swirl, pat, swirl, pat.”
- Remember the Milgram experiment from college? That psychological experiment from the 50s when the testers were quizzing someone and then shocking then when they got the answers wrong, proving the power that an authority figure has? I think you could do a similar study at restaurant like this – serve people crazy shit like human fingers and baby heads and see if they eat it. “Well, this is pretty weird, but it’s 5 star and all so here goes! You gonna eat your nail?”

For fuck's sake!

Shot down. That’s what happened. I wrote a whole post tonight. Not sure what it was about. Ok, I lied. I know exactly what it was about. It was gay. Totally gay. And luckily my wife read and it and told me it was gay. And not to post it. Because of its gayness. Note to self, don’t drink red wine, put on Elliot Smith and try to post. This blog is pretty linear in its direction. Not in its topics, cause with that we’re all over the place. But at least we’re consistent about our ridiculousness. We never stray too far off the path of ridiculousness. If I come along and get all Nancy Kerrigan and post some touchy feely bullshit then what does that do to our reputation? Smushes it. Knocks it around. Like Samantha Ronson when she gets to rub her face in those delicious looking funbags.

This much I know. Jericho is back tomorrow, thank God, it’s been lonely. The Giants and the Huskies can hold their head up high for a few more days. I watched most of the World Series of poker last night but turned it off during the final table just to prove a point. For the first time all season I’m feeling good about all of my fantasy teams but know very well that feeling will soon disappear. I have 11 people on Facebook who’ve asked me to be their friends and I knowingly haven’t acted on it. I love red vine licorice more than I love pancakes and waffles. Patch took the most impressive shit today, literally it was the size of a well fed third grader. I just found out about a few random people who read this blog and I couldn’t be happier. If Ryan Reynolds was any more attractive I might consider switching teams. My green Hurley hat is my new go-to hat in my collection. Keith Olberman’s video denouncing Prop 8 was moving…trust me, Google it. I still find myself wildly attracted to Sarah Palin, not her ideas, just her banging body. For fuck’s sake, I just used the word “wildly” in a sentence to describe my feelings like I was Charlotte Bronte. My new favorite response to something I find crazy is “for fuck’s sake.”


*

Will you be my Billy Volek?

Apple
“I'm hung over, my knees are killing me and if you're going to pull this shit at least you could've said you were from the Yankees.”


Moustache
The Sports Guy, despite his raging boner for all things Boston, is as good as it gets. No doubt about it…this is from his recent column ranking the NFL teams:

“Really, the fantasy football season isn't fun. Winning is OK; losing is agonizing. You constantly feel awful about your choices and your bad luck; it's the only exercise that causes arguments with friends you normally never would argue with; and you spend roughly a kazillion hours managing your team for the 10 percent chance that you might win your league. There's just not a ton of upside. It's almost like smoking cigarettes -- it started out with good intentions, and it's something to do, and it can be fun in the right moments, but ultimately, there are an inordinate amount of moments when you find yourself leaning out a window in 20-degree weather to puff out a quick cig as your nose gets frostbitten, or bumming a cig from a group of horrible girls and then feeling obligated to talk to them, or waking up in the morning and coughing up your right lung. Really, it's more harm than fun. And yet, we continue to do it. And love it. This entire paragraph made me want to smoke.”


Apple
There are few victories in fantasy football, as the SG clearly notes, so you need to celebrate them when you can. Well, this week, I’m celebrating. I picked up and started Tyler Thigpen and had the high score this week with Hightower still left to play. Feels good. And between you and me, I think I’m going to start Thigpen over Romo next week. Yeah. I’m that crazy. I’ve been saying it all season, if I’m gonna make any sort of run at it this year I got to find that big pick-up mid season. Like Drew Bennet a few years back. Or Shaud Williams a few years before that. Hey Tyler, will you be my Billy Volek?


Moustache
Contrary to popular belief, Patch is not the one eyed dog featured in the SPCA commercials with Sarah McClaughlin. But, I do believe he will, and should, someday be a national sensation.


Apple
I saw TV on the Radio last night. Fantastic band, I highly recommend seeing them live. They are so passionate about what they do. We stood about 8 feet from the front of the stage. That lasted about 4 songs, and when I couldn’t even bob my head because it was so crowded, we moved to the back of the room. I gotta say, it’s fun to be close, but it’s more fun to be able to breathe. That’s my strategy. I like to get as close as possible for a few songs, then move back and take it all in. And to the nerd standing next to me who looked like Sally Jesse Raphael if she was a 19 year old frequent World of Warcraft masturbator…keep up the good work. From the outside you look like a major tool. And though your dance moves did nothing to disprove my theory of your dorkdom, I appreciated your intensity. Now get a hair cut.


Moustache
Let’s check in on some bets shall we? At the start of the year I put money on Jacksonville to win the whole thing. Not good. I put money on the Bears to win less than 8 games. They’re currently 5-4. Ouch. I need that team to fall apart quickly. Luckily I have Rex Grossman helping me out. I also have money on the Steelers to win more than 9.5 games. They stand 6-3 but have the hardest schedule in the NFL. I think that team is Super Bowl bound. Mewelde Moore and all.


Apple
Speaking of 9.5, the Niners are 9.5 underdogs tonight in their only MNF game of the season at Arizona. Anyone want a piece of that action?


*

Keep your love locked down

Apple
Jericho is not at work today. I could rip my eyeballs out with boredom. See, we chat on IM all day long. Now before you go off thinking I’m a total slap dick, I’m not. I get a lot of shit done throughout the day. But every now and then I like to check ESPN and discuss with Jericho. Or get a stupid email and make fun of the person with Jericho. Or get offered Maurice Morris and Julius Jones for the umpteenth time and need to tell Jericho how fucking stupid people in our fantasy football league are. Yup. Pretty standard stuff. Nice way to pass the day that guy is.


Moustache
We put our dog to sleep today. I'm pretty bummed about it too. No, not Patch…but our family dog, Annie. Annie was almost 14 years old. She smelled awful, she was cranky and walked with a limp straight outta a Ma$e video. But damnit if I didn’t love that dog. My little brother will be the most upset by this. He loved Annie more than anyone else and he was only 7 when we got her. It’s tough to hear that kind of stuff. Family dogs are pretty special animals. I’m gonna miss her when I go home for Thanksgiving.


Apple
Obama’s got a tall climb ahead of him, this much I know for sure. He’s got the momentum and the support but I don’t wish this type of task upon anyone. People believe in him and want to see our country turned around. I just wonder how much of a leash they’ll give him. Is this Mike Holmgren in Seattle leniency? Where he can fuck around for years without repercussions? Or is this Marty Schotteinhemier in San Diego where he’ll be lambasted after a 14-2 season?


Moustache
Top 3 albums I can’t stop listening to:

• TV on the Radio – Dear Science
• The Doors – Absolutely Live
• Kanye West – Love Lockdown (ok, this is just a single, but it’s banging)
  

Apple
Ugly chicks shouldn’t wear Tory Burch flats. Not sure why, but this makes sense in my head. I was walking down the street and saw a pair of Tory Burch black flats and looked up and saw this broke ass chick. She was kicked liked the WWE’s China. The whole thing just made me uncomfortable. If you’re gonna wear those Tory Burch flats, and you’re not cute, then at least have some style when you’re hoof stomping around. '


Moustache
Dear Tahoe Santa – The level of excitement I have to see you this weekend is immeasurable. If it was measurable it would be the equivalent of when Yao returned home to China after his rookie season in the NBA and there were all those crazy Chinese people tearing at his clothes and crying and hoping to just get to touch him any part of him. I just want to touch you Tahoe. Any part of you. Is that weird?


Apple
Kendra, the smoking hot chick from Girls Next Door is engaged to Hank Baskett of the Philadelphia Eagles. Kendra obviously doesn’t play fantasy football or she woulda dropped him about 6 weeks ago. Try Bernard Berrian Kendra? Is he single? He’s on fire.



*

A few football thoughts before we go celebrate

Titans being 8-0
Magglio alluded to this earlier and I’m willing to listen to counter arguments on this one, but the Titans do not look like a team that can make a deep playoff run to me. They run and stop the run, key ingredients to winning a Bowl, but at some point Kerry Collins is going to have to make a play to win and I don’t think he does it. I watched the entire Titans / Packers game on Sunday and was struck by three things: 1) Albert Haynesworth is the scariest guy on the entire planet. I would rather blow Kimbo Slice, bite his tip off, spit it in his face and say “let’s see what you got, pussy cookie!” then fuck with Haynesworth. Did you see when he dropped back into coverage and batted a ball down!? Holy fucking shit. 2) Chris Johnson is the real fucking deal – he’ll be a good player for a long time. 3) Collins has the slowest, largest windup of any QB I’ve ever seen (sorry, Byron, you’ve been bumped to #2) and if a team can put pressure on him, which hasn’t happened yet all season, Collins will crap himself like he always fucking does. I did a little research on this; do you realize that the Titans have only played one team that ranks in the top 10 in sacks (Minnesota at #8)? In fact, of the 8 teams they’ve beaten, 6 rank dead last in sacks (KC = 32, Cincy = 31, Jax = 30, Indy = 29, Hou = 28, GB, 27)? Can you smell what I’m cooking here? There a good football team no doubt, and they have one of the best coaches in the league, but Kerry Collins and Kerry Collin’s vagina is the elephant’s vagina in the room here. Watch them meet up with someone like the Steelers in the playoffs and watch Collins put the diarrhea in diarrhea sandwich.

Browns going to Quinn
It never ceases to amaze how dumb the people who run NFL teams can be; this week’s dumb shit fucking ass move is the Browns giving Quinn his first start during a short week (the Browns play the Broncos on Thursday night). Look, I’m completely fine with starting Quinn, let’s see what you’ve got here, but why not wait until next week and give him extra practice / prep before he makes his debut. He hasn’t worked with the 1st team offense since the preseason and now they are giving him one practice before sending him out? That’s completely fucking moronic. You know the old adage about how the best thing for a young QB is a running game? That’s true of course, but even more important for a young QB: confidence. If you don’t think Quinn’s confidence is down after sliding to #21 and then watching Anderson light it up last year then you’re dumb enough to think starting him this week is a good idea. Young QBs are like virgins on prom night. You want to fuck them and they want to fuck you, but you gotta lube it up!

Romeo Crennel
In related Browns news, when a coach holds a press conference to announce that the backup is starting the next game and then spends 20 minutes reaffirming the fact that this was his decision and not the fans, there’s a 10000000000% chance he’s getting fired in the offseason. No big deal though. Now that Crennel has crossed “head coach of an NFL team” off his bucket list, he can move on to the next item: playing Reginald VelJohnson in a TV movie about all the drama behind the scenes during the making of Family Matters. You see he invested his entire Browns Salary in a run of “WWRVJD?” bracelets, and goddamn it those things are gonna sell! (P.S. #3 and #4 on his bucket list: 3 = see penis. 4 = hit penis against thigh while playing show tunes on the kazoo and go on the road and cheer up sick children under the name “Slap Happy.”)


The Horror! The Horror!
This is just not my year for football, the combined record of the teams I love (Seahawks, Huskies) and team I hate with a passion but am forced to follow b/c I’ve got nothing else to do (Niners, Raiders and my fantasy team) is a putrid 9-32. 9-32! The best of the worst is my barely breathing 4-5 fantasy team – and I start Pennington and Kevin Faulk for goddamn fuck’s sake! Having a 4-5 fantasy team with Pennington and Faulk as the one saving grace of your football season is akin to having a masturbating homeless guy as the one perk to living in your neighborhood. Sure, the place is moldy, the rent is too high and there’s been six break-ins in the last month, but ‘ol Willy Wanker and the Spanklate Factory, he really makes up for it!

USA! USA!

We’ve been slacking. This I know. No excuses. There’s stuff going on. If you’ve stuck with us, then we love you. If you’re just checking in after a few weeks off then blow me. And if you’re voting for McCain tomorrow then we don’t see eye-to-eye to say the least. On the eve of election night, I’ve got a few Apples & Moustaches for you. Let’s dance.


Apple
I went to the Raider game yesterday. Holy shit that was bad football. What’s the worst part about sitting through a 24-0 half where the home team has a total of -6 yards and 0 first downs? Watching a second half where nothing happens. Seriously, nothing happened. The final score was 24-0. It was beyond awful. And I’m not even a Raider fan. Somebody asked me today if JaMarcus Russell was really terrible. I honestly didn’t know how to address the question. The whole team was so awful there wasn’t any one person to pin the blame on. I started yelling for them to put Tui in about mid way through the 2nd quarter.


Moustache
If you haven’t heard/seen this…then please do. Classic. She’s such a hick. (thanks mooch)



Apple
The Steelers are a solid football team. A really solid football team. I think their record suffers this year from having the toughest schedule in the league. Tonight they proved that they are in fact a true force to be reckoned with. My prediction for the Super Bowl? Pittsburgh vs. Arizona. No chance the Titans make it. As my homosexual blog mate Jericho correctly stated, one of these days Kerry Collins is going to be asked to make a play to win a game. Nuff said.


Moustache
My Dad made a cool statement tonight about the election. He said every 4 years he's always voted for the lesser of two evils. Nobody actually liked Al Gore or John Kerry. We were just forced to vote for them because they weren't as big a nut sack as the other guy. But this year is different. Obama is different. He talks different, he listens different and he looks different. This is someone to rally behind and believe in. Not just an old white guy talking about the same old stuff just slightly different then the last guy. Good observation Dad.


Apple
How smooth was Obama on MNF tonight? He’s so in touch with what’s going on. His answers were well thought out and aware. McCain’s answers were canned, they came off like your senile 73-year old grandfather who got into the liquor cabinet and when he imitated Chris Berman with his ‘back, back, back’ it was just painful. Even Berman was fake laughing. Talk about knowing your audience, Obama’s answer to institute a playoff in college football was dead on. McCain’s answer about steroids was so forced, so out of date, it hurt. It hurt like my head will Wednesday morning after partying with my fellow San Franciscans. Cause when Obama takes this thing, the roof is gonna blow off this motherfucker.


Now go vote!

Pumpkin Patch

I never thought I'd be that guy. But there I was. Scrambling through a bin of pet costumes frantically looking for a small sized pumpkin outfit. In my humble opinion, it was the find of the century. Are you kidding me? Look at that dog. It's adorable. Sure, the hat is a bit small and it kinda looks like a Yarmulke (so much so we've come to call him the Halloween Rabbi) but adorable, none the less.

Happy Halloween.



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A Royall Tale

Humor me for a minute as I regale you with a mythical story.

A long, long time ago in the hills of Sardania, there was a handsome, virile, vigorous young man named Yarlo Choilrej. Yarlo had recently matured into manhood and was quickly proving to be the most trusted, the most feared and the bravest warrior in his village and arguably the entire country. Like all young men of this time, Yarlo yearned for a life of adventure, an opportunity to prove his mettle to the Gods, the prospect of dying nobly, or better yet, retiring to a life of fortune amid the esteem of his people and the vaginal admiration worthy of such a hero.

Unfortunately for Yarlo, there were no great wars, no skirmishes, no battles to prove his worth. There were contests and competitions - which he won so repeatedly and so handily that men stopped entering – but he knew, as did the people around him, that legends are not made from these pursuits. Yarlo prayed incessantly for the chance to distinguish himself amongst the legends and heroes that had come before him; for it can be said that never having an opportunity is even worse than dying dishonorably.

He had everything except his great victory. He had bested his peers, his legend was known as far as a man could walk, but he had never tasted the blood of a worthy enemy. He was handsome, athletic, gifted at strategy; women panted at his entrance, man bowed at his exit, but yet, there was no title, no trophy and nothing to signify his otherworldly greatness other than the whispers of children and the empty platitudes of sycophantic men.

What does this story ultimately mean? Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. But it’s the only thing that calms me down when I think about how fucking awful I am at fantasy football.

Thursday Thoughts

Apple
Why do people always hype up “steel cut” when they’re selling oatmeal? Why does this matter? Does anyone really care about the apparatus used to cut (not cook, or even serve, both of which seem much more important) their breakfast? “Turkey Sandwich with dirt-grown tomatoes.” “127 beers on tap, all served in water-washed glasses.” “Horny secretaries covered in testicle-generated spunk.”

Moustache
The NFL playing a game in Europe is the most obvious, self-aggrandizing since Michael Jackson named his son Prince Michael. Do the Brits really care about the NFL? Are we bringing over announces too? We’re not leaving this in English hands are we? “LaDainian Tomlinson just wholly whocked that defenseman, he made him look he was two tassels short of a tassel collection.” Viability of that aside, I’ll tell you one thing, when England returns the favor and hosts an unimportant regular season matchup of two very average cricket teams at the Rose Bowl, I will fucking WALK there if I have to!

Apple
Honestly, is there anything more moronic than the graphic ESPN showed during MNF comparing Brady’s first six starts to Cassel’s? There’s a certain “it” factor to NFL quarterbacks, a swagger, a confidence that when you walk into that huddle all 10 guys know, not think, know they’re going to win. Brady has it. Peyton has it. Jeff fucking Garcia has it. Young guys like Trent Edwards and Matt Ryan have it. Cassel does not. You can’t teach it, you can’t coach it, like big, beautiful natural C cups. You can fake it, you can work out and get great legs and a great ass, but if you ain’t born w/ beautiful, naturals Cs, you ain’t gettin em. The most telling play happened at the 3 minute mark in the 2nd quarter – 3rd and 10 from NE’s own 12 – Cassel drops back, throws a duck and then is absolutely raped by the OLB. Roughing the passer, 15 yards. The thing is, when that happened, I looked at Cassel and thought, “you lucky fuck.” If that were Brady, I would’ve been thinking, “man, how good is Brady, he totally drew that flag.” You see the difference?

Moustache
Let me ask you this, if you’re Larry Johnson, why wouldn’t you be spitting on bitches? I mean, name me one woman who has ran for over 1,500 yards in an NFL season? Exactly. Here was Herm’s response when asked about the situation, “You spit on bitches to prove a point! Hello! You spit to prove a point! You don’t spit to just spit! That’s the great thing about spitting. You spit they listen. I don’t care if she’s not listening, you spit to make her listen!”

Apple
How long until we see Brett Favre in a tuff guy cell phone commercial? I mean, has anyone’s cell phone been more scrutinized over the last year than this guy’s? So Brett’s in the huddle, waiting for the play to be called in but his helmet mike isn’t working, he’s tapping it repeatedly, looking to the sidelines for help. Close up shot of Eric Mangini with one of his patented “my bologna has a first name it’s O S C A R” facial expressions. Then Brett’s face breaks into a crooked smile and you can see him thinking “hey wait a minute, I’m Brett Favre, I can do whatever I want without any kind of reproach and reprimand” – so he takes a cell phone out of his belt and calls the offensive coordinator in the booth. “Hey, Jim, it’s Brett. I was thinking about a Z post, what do you think?” The offensive coordinator starts to object, but Brett just smiles and hangs up. Brett turns back to the huddle but before he calls the play he fires off a quick text message to Peter King. “Petey, thanks again for the rim job last night. Hope the bruise from my nuts slapping against your forehead gets better. B” Brett puts the phone back in his belt, calls the play and breaks the huddle. Once the ball is snapped, Brett avoids the rush, steps up in the pocket and throws a laser across the middle that is picked off by the safety and returned 87 yards for a touchdown. We fade to black as the announcers praise Brett’s approach to the game and scold the receivers for not being within 25 yards of the throw.

Moustache
Wade Phillips doesn’t have the hair to win a Super Bowl. He looks like a guy you’d buy stamps from. For non-baseball watchers like me, here’s a quick guide to how you can tell which team is going to win the World Series: always pick the team with the most disheveled looking manager. The Rays’ manager is way to put together after 180 games; he looks like a history professor at a community college. But the Phillies’ guy? That fat tub of shit is exactly what you want in the World Series. High School Musical 3: Senior Year, much more crowd-friendly than the original title: School Musical 3: Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha. Anyone seen the new 90210? Jenny Garth and Lori Laughlin on the same show? Are you kidding me? That’s like Tony Danza fucking Alan Thicke! Hey, why stop at 18 games, NFL? Let’s make it 20! Wait, 25! Let’s play all year round! Come on, dickweeds, you know what the correct answer here is, don’t you? Adding more games to the most violent sport in history that doesn’t involve a tiger or the words “Pam Anderson” and “fisting” (very popular sport in Finland, although it's called "pfisting" there) is like getting an incredible blowjob and then asking the chick to dance and blow bubbles with your milkshake. Just enjoy your success and watch Seinfeld.