Friday, October 31, 2008
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.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
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, October 23, 2008
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.”
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!
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?
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!”
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.
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.
Monday, October 20, 2008
I haven't spoken to Jericho all day today. It's the longest we've gone without talking since I punched him in the leg after a long night of drinking and rendered him immobile for a few days. Eventually I bought him a lava lamp and all was forgiven. But this time it's different. I lost. I lost bad. The final score was 111-64. So what did Jericho do at my lowest moment when Rudi Johnson finished the game with 6 yards and Vincent Jackson just caught a TD pass? He texted me the following "How's that taste bitch?" Not cool Jericho, not cool.
If I were talking to Jericho then I would call him and ask him if he could name who GQ considers the top 25 sexiest women in film of all time. They just released their list in the latest issue. As you well know, Jericho is a hardcore movie dork. I'm talking big time dork. He's the kind of guy who thinks a fun Tuesday night involves back-to-back showings of "A River Runs Through It" followed by "Steel Magnolias." Big time nerd. Jericho's favorite game in the whole world is when I ask him to guess the top 5 grossing movies of individual actors, in order, and their total earnings. I'm dead serious. It's frightening. Last week I gave him Denzel and he nailed it. The gross earnings as well.
Ok, I broke down and called him. I had a moment of weakness. I conceded victory, allowed him the pleasure of a verbal thrashing and then quickly brought up the GQ article. Talk about a change. Jericho went from Desmond Howard posing after a TD at Michigan to the over acting Asian girl on Barney when it comes time to sing the picnic song. He immediately said he could get 15 of the 25 correct. Bold. The over/under was set. I took the under, my wife also took the under, Jericho's wife-to-be, she took the over. (Great sign during pre-marriage by the way.)
Then he had some questions;
1) Is this sexiest woman in a movie or over an entire body of work? Great question. Looks like it's based on individual movies.
2) What's the time period? 1957 to present.
3) How much time does he get? As much as he needs as long as he calls me tonight. And don't worry about him cheating. That's impossible. He gets off on this kind of shit so much I can just picture him right now hunched over the coffee table with a pen and paper feverishly reviewing his mental spank bank but not like you and I would (see: Denise Richards and Neve Cambell in Wild Things.) No, he's going way back. I'm talking Dame Judi Dench in Elizabeth deep. We'll see how he does.
Eighteen minutes later, he calls. First one he guesses is Phoebe Cates in Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Yes. Then he guesses Sophia Loren in Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow. Wow, 2 for 2. Then it all goes down hill. Observe:
Jericho: Bo Derek, 10
Magglio: No, not on the list:
Jericho: What?! Not possible. Check it again.
Magglio: No buddy, it's not on here.
Jericho: That's crazy, this whole game is suspect.
Magglio: Yeah, that doesn't make a lot of sense. Even I knew that one.
Jericho: What about Marilyn Monroe?
Magglio: Let me check…No. Not on here.
Jericho: What?! GQ made a list of the 25 sexiest women in film and Bo Derek and Marilyn Monroe are not on there?
Magglio: I guess they did.
Jericho: This game is over.
Magglio: Well, do you want to at least let me know who else you put down?
Jericho: No. The game is over.
Magglio: Come on buddy, just tell me who you thought it would be.
Jericho: If I called you and said 'guess the top 25 bands of all time' and The White Stripes and Radiohead were not on there what would you do?
Magglio: I'd be pretty pissed off.
Jericho: Ok then.
Magglio: Well can you at least email me the list?
Jericho: I'm taking this notebook and I'm tossing it off the balcony right now. There it goes. (sounds of paper flapping) It's gone. Fuck this game.
Magglio: Sorry buddy.
Jericho: It's ok. We'll talk tomorrow.
And with that, the game was over. Just like that. But hey, for those of you that took the under looks like you won. A bet is a bet.
Here’s the bullshit list if you’re interested. And yes, they did pick a 13 year-old girl who looked like a 12 year-old boy. Bullshit. Maybe if we’re lucky Jericho would give us his top 25.
Friday, October 17, 2008
For the first and only time this season Magglio’s San Francisco 40 oz (3-3) and Jericho’s Seattle Smokers (2-4) will meet in a pivotal week 7 match-up of their fantasy football league. We previewed their teams here. Let’s take a look at an unbiased preview of this weekend’s match-up.
40 oz: Matt Schaub
Smokers: Brad Johnson
In an interesting twist of fate Magglio convinced Jericho to drop Schaub earlier this season in favor of Matt Cassel. He then quickly picked up Schaub and has started him during his recent hot streak. Never underestimate the conniving nature of Magglio when it comes to Fantasy Football. Jericho clearly had the advantage here with Romo but will have to roll the dice as Romo is home with his pinkie swelling inside Jessica Simpson’s honey hole.
40 oz: Ladanian Tomlinson, Rudi Johnson
Smokers: Thomas Jones, Sammy Morris
Yes, Magglio starts Rudi Johnson, but just this week. You see, the 40 oz only carry 2 running backs, LT and Maurice Jones-Drew, and with MJD on a bye week one thing lead to another and boom! Rudi Johnson is back in football. The Smokers just engineered a trade to get Thomas Jones into the mix (giving up Adrian Peterson and Houshmanzadeh and getting Jones, Randy Moss and Vincent Jackson in return). Jones was known in college as “slippery buns Jonesy” for his affinity with being gang raped in the shower after practices by the o-line.
40 oz: Laverneous Coles, Marcus Colston, Lee Evans
Smokers: Randy Moss, Vincent Jackson, Santonio Holmes
The Smokers, still embarrassed with drafting Holmes in the 2nd round, are hoping Randy Moss will regain his old form on MNF and do what he does best…CATCH TOUCHDOWNS! The 40oz are banking on Colston to step into the number 1 passing offense in the league and do what he does best….REPRESENT HOFSTRA!
Advantage: 40 oz
40 oz: Jason Witten
Smokers: Chris Cooley
Two of the best tight ends in the game, two of the most red necked white guys in the game (o-lineman aside), and two of the rosiest cheeks this side of Sweden. I think it’s called rosacea. Regardless it’s just lovely.
Advantage: 40 oz
40 oz: Matt Prater
Smokers: Mason Crosby
Jason Elam be damned, Matt Prater is the new king of the kickers. Mason Crosby was voted “best buns in 501s” in his 7th grade glass. It’s the last time anyone gave two shits about him or his candy ass.
Advantage: 40 oz
40 oz: Ravens
Truth be told, Jericho gave Magglio the idea to pick up the Ravens D after the first week. Magglio continues to thank Jericho endlessly for this tip. Now he hopes to return the favor Ray Ray style. By getting all of his friends to surround Jericho and kick the living shit out of him. (Ouch, that was terrible. My apologies.)
Advantage: Ray Lewis
San Francisco 40 oz - 137
Seattle Smokers - 64
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Word association with Magglio and Jericho...
Pacman Jones is suspended again...
Paris Hilton lights self on fire, blames gasoline dress. Pam Anderson Passes kidney stone, turns out to be Kid Rock. Matthew McConaughey gets lost in own house, does pushups until found. Chris Berman Finishes Burger, Accidentally eats forearm. Sarah Palin loses argument to baby, shoots baby. In other words, no fucking shit.
Oliver Stone's W...
Remember when Oliver Stone made influential, talked about movies like Natural Born Killers and JFK? What the hell is this? Is this movie supposed to be funny? Serious? Ironic? Shit stained? I’m expecting a combination of Lil’ Bush meets Fried Green Tomatoes meets Team America World Police meets Harry and the Hendersons. Truth be told I change the channel whenever a trailer comes on for this movie. Like holding my breath every time I drive through Emeryville. I don’t want anything to do with this movie.
Madonna and guy getting divorced...
The real question is what kind of ass is Guy going to pull now? I mean, where do you go after banging Madonna for all those years? Sure, she was starting to look like Todd Heap but she’s also notoriously violent/sexy/unstoppable in the sack. My guess? Guy is looking for comfort and affordability. The equivalent to banging a Kia Rio. I think he goes for Rachel Ray.
Jon Kitna is out for the year...
Or in other words the 2nd or 3rd best player on a shit fucking awful team going down for the year – is the equivalent of taking an ugly bitch home and then just as you’re about to slam home the cheeseburger, she stops you and in a weepy voice says, “I can’t do this, I just can’t do this.” In other words, Lions fans, you might want to just jerk off. The pussy has officially left the building.
Joe the Plumber...
I got an idea, our country is going to shit, our economy is going down faster than Miley Cyrus on her 20-year-old boyfriend and we’re in massive dept. Let’s use a redneck wife-beater from butt fuck Ohio as our measuring stick for the American population. Obama and McCain should have used Jake Plummer or Ahmad Plummer as their talking points. Talking about two washed up NFL players would get me a lot more interested in the debates then talking about this Joe asshole.
Game 5 of the ALCS
Get the warm beer ready you sad sad fucks. I hope you get 13 more runs and some BJ Upton so far up your ass that even Theo Epstein is offended. Your time has come Boston. The clock has struck midnight. Jason Bay is about to turn into a pumpkin. Sure, you bought your way to a few series titles, you purchased an NBA title this past season and you wronged a lot of people along the way. I hope it hurts tonight. I hope it hurts worse than these pictures of Xtina. Giants in 2009!!!!
Sunday, October 12, 2008
On Wednesday night the over under of the Cowboys/Cardinals game was 50 points. By the time I was packing my luggage for Phoenix it was 51. When I landed and got to my hotel room in beautiful Glendale, Arizona the over/under had raised to 52.5. Obviously people were expecting a shootout. So, what do I do? I take the over, naturally.
I attended the Cardinals/Cowboys game at beautiful University of Phoenix stadium today. Three quick observations about the pre-game festivities:
*I didn’t catch a single whiff of pot. I was at the tailgate at 10am, 3 hours before kickoff, and not once did I catch a scent of that real sticky-icky….ooh weee! If this was a Niners game, or a Raiders game, the smell of Marijuana would be prevalent like toothless hicks at a McCain rally.
*The best sign I saw was of Jessica Simpson wearing a Cardinals jersey with the title ‘Yoko Romo’. Not sure why, but I laughed and it wasn’t just a courtesy laugh like when KK tries to make a joke, but a real genuine chuckle.
*The best jersey I saw was either the Quincy Carter jersey or the Bill Bates jersey. Lots of Pat Tillman jerseys were out there and surprisingly not a single Tim Hightower. If I was a Cardinals fan I think I’d rock a Larry Fitzgerald jersey. Or a Leinart jersey…he’s totally dreamy.
*The stadium is everything it’s cracked up to be. It’s spacious, it’s comfortable and no matter where you sit/stand you feel like you’re right on top of the action. Fantastic stadium all around. They didn’t have the roof open today, which was baffling because it was 85 degrees outside, but the multiple skylights helped us forget that the game was played indoors. If anyone ever attended a game at the Kingdome in Seattle let me just say it was nothing like this. The Kingdome was like playing a sporting event in a giant Costco. It was just weird.
Now back to my sports bet. The Cardinals returned the opening kickoff for a TD to go up 7-0. Perfect, 15 seconds into the game and there are 7 points on the board. I may make my over 52.5 before the first half ends. And then? Nothing. The score at the start of the 2nd half was 7-7. At the start of the 4th quarter it was 14-7. You read that correctly. 21 total points on a 52.5 point bet. Terrible.
And then there was a bit of magic in the dessert air. Points started to pile up. Patrick Crayton broke a long play for a TD. Marion Barber broke a long play for a TD. And holy shit it was 24-21 with seconds to play. Everything that happened after this point was flawless in achieving not only the greatest victory in the history of Cardinals football but the most impractible over in the history of my betting life. Let’s get straight to the point. When the game went into overtime at 24-24 the only chance I had of winning was if one of the teams scored a TD. And 4 plays later when the Cardinals blocked a punt AND returned it for a TD, I jumped up and down like the biggest dooshbag in all of Arizona. Wait, check that. I looked around. I may have been jumping up and down but there are so many d-bags in this dry, republican state that I was hardly the nerdiest of them all.
On a final note, Larry Fitzgerald is probably in the top 3 most talented football players I’ve ever seen in person. He caught balls that weren’t catchable in this universe. He willed his team to success on multiple different plays. This man is THE best receiver in the game. He has THE best hands in the game. Yes, I want to have Larry Fitzgerald’s baby.
I’m back in San Francisco on Wednesday.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
As my blonde haired, blue eyed Catholic wife is in the kitchen feverishly working on a marinade for our traditional Yom Kippur dinner tomorrow night, I am doing what any red blooded Jewish man would be doing. I’m hovering. You see, a little known fact is that in a household where the man is Jewish and the woman is not, the roles in the kitchen are reversed. I do the cooking and I shop for the groceries. I’m not sure why it works out this way but it does. So tonight, I find myself hovering. Giving pointers on how to peel the garlic. Asking if she needs help peeling the onions. Helping her find the grater and just basically getting in her way. I need to sit down, I need to watch Sportscenter, I need to just scratch myself or something.
Here’s the difference. When I go grocery shopping I can spend $100 and get us enough food to last us for at least a week. And that includes breakfast, lunch and dinner. I can spot a good price on chicken broth quicker than Tim McCarver can weasel himself into the top NLCS story line. When my wife goes grocery shopping, she’ll spend $100 and come back with 2 oranges, some eye cream, a Perrier and some bath salts. I can’t ever figure it out.
The strangest thing of all is that these roles won’t ever go back. I can tell. In a relationship, especially a marriage, couples naturally take on certain tasks either by choice, by necessity or because they drew the short straw. And then, that’s the way it goes. It’s why I’ve never done laundry and she’s never taken out the trash. It’s why I’ve never given Patch a bath and she’s never picked up a piece of his shit. These are the unspoken rules of our relationship. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
(Wait a minute. When did Apples and Moustaches turn into the final scene of a Doogie Howser episode?)
A few questions for a Wednesday:
- Is Mark Wahlberg the Jude Law of tough guys or is Jude Law the Mark Wahlberg of pussies?
- Pound for pound, is there anyone funnier on SNL than Andy Samberg? I love the way they are using him on the show this year – he started to get a little played out last year, was in too many skits and lost a little zing. In retrospect, he’s just not an every skit type of performer – some people are – Kristen Wiig, Amy Poehler, Will Ferrell, Phil Hartman – they’re / were in every skit and they should be. Samberg is more of a Sandler-type, he’s at his best when he takes you by surprise. Honestly, this skit (helped greatly by my aforementioned amazement of Wahlberg’s career) is the funniest thing on SNL this year that doesn’t involve Tina Fey.
- Can someone please help me figure out which one is Diane Lane and which one is Richard Gere in this picture? I honestly can't tell.
(Side note about Richard Gere – you kind of have to respect his “I don’t care if I look like a tremendous pussy, I’m rich, I’m about to get richer and I’m making this fucking move!” approach to his career. There’s a dude in my building that refuses to wash his hands in the bathroom. I’ve literally seen him come out of stall, fix his hair and walk out. He obviously sees me looking at him but doesn’t give a fuck, he just struts out and swings the door open like he’s John fucking Wayne. If anything, you have to respect the audacity of that move. Gere’s career is a perfect mirror to this, right down to his poopy hands.)
- Can I get an official ruling on Katy Perry please (pic at top): smoking hot or brutally ugly?
(Side note, I’m so sick of pop stars putting us through this agonizing uncertainty. We struggled with Fergie for 3 years finally pronouncing her smoking hot more out of exhaustion than any sense of revelation – looks like we’re entering a similar quandary with Katy Perry and Katy Perry’s enormous cantaloupes. Can someone just please make a ruling so we can all get on with our lives?)
- Wait, wait, wait, is Nick Nolte really blaming his printer for the fire in his house? What the fuck? Look at this picture - I mean, when you look like you drink Drano and molest turtles can you really blame anything for anything? When Nick Nolte’s house burns down, not only do I believe the fire, I sympathize with it b/c it had to touch his stuff. Nick Nolte could be involved in the most improbable accident of all time – like opening a bag of Cheetos and having a tiger jump out of the bag and kill him – and it would be his fault somehow.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
A good old fashion word association with Magglio and Jericho…
The Presidential Debate:
I’d be more excited if SNL had a better Barack Obama - Fred Armison's Obama is about as good as my Fred Armison. btw, when you have a second, go here and watch the clip of Obama's New Hampshire concession speech - the "yes we can" speech - you will be shocked by how much younger he looks. Incredible. Running for president sucks on every level, he's aged about 56 years since that moment. McCain has the distinct advantage in that department since corpses don't technically age...
Esquire names Halle Berry ‘sexiest woman alive’:
Enjoy that Esquire! I'll be at the bus stop with the Megan Fox GQ about to get arrested.
The Red Sox advancing:
I want the Red Sox to win this whole thing about as much as I want to find a beak in my hard boiled egg. Granted, I opted for MNF last night rather than the Angels/Red Sox game, but after watching highlights on Sportscenter it definitely got me fired up for the championship series in both leagues. I love baseball. I hope the Rays destroy the Red Sox…but not too quickly. Remember the Rockies? Stretch it out to 6 games and then enter the Series on a roll. Giants in ‘09!!!!
Whenever a deli or sandwich shop doesn’t carry this I immediately assume they’re anti-Semitic. Fuck you, Denny’s!
Red-Eye (coffee with a shot of espresso)
Ordering this is the equivalent of giving a stripper a $100 and telling her to dance until you jizz, actually it’s not, but it’s been way too long since we had “jizz” on the site.
Sex addict David Duchovny released from sex rehab:
What the fuck is sex rehab? What a bizarre concept? You think they read you the baseball box scores while showing a slide show of the Gettysburg address? You think all the nurses wear oversized ‘nanna’ sweaters and oversized t-shirts with pictures of Garfield on them? Sex rehab is not possible. It’s just a great way to apologize to your wife. Sex rehab. Are you serious with this? And fuck David Duchovny while we’re at it. Our economy is going to shit and he has the time to go to sex rehab? For fuck’s sake.
Steve Young Getting his number retired
Speaking of jizz! Steve Young has to be the jizziest jizzball there ever was. We’ve heard of the Jew Fro, but the Jizz Fro, you all got us there, Steve!
Gus Ferrotte winning games for the Vikings:
So, here’s the scenario. You’re home all by yourself and getting ready for a great, “she’ll be gone for four hours” jerk off. You’ve got everything you need, you’ve been camping with your buddies for 5 days, it’s game time. So you grab your favorite porn and as you’re getting your favorite scene cued up, the power goes out. OK, OK, don’t panic. You go to your dresser, dig under your warm up pants and find your emergency Club. OK, nice, good save. So you flip to page 47 (the great pictorial with three waitresses at a casino inexplicably fucking the blackjack dealer) but pull back in horror because you realize waitress #2 kind completely resembles your sister’s friend – and not the good looking friend, the ugly accountant that uses words like “yummy.”
Well, this won’t do. Now you have no power, which means no Internet or TV, your fave mag let you down, so now what? Flash forward five minutes later and you’re in the shower thinking about Salma Hayek jumping rope and jerking off with a travel bottle of Prell. This scenario basically sums up the Vikings season. They had all the pieces in place; they were hungry, ready to do this thing. I mean, you can win a few games with Gus Ferrotte, but ultimately it’s a very frustrating, very forgettable experience
*this post is dedicated to the new girl at work for having a burrito for lunch 7 days in a row. Impressive.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
I broke my phone, again. No, this is not a joke. I did not make this up like Jericho’s “bad shoulder” when I’m kicking his ass and he can’t take it anymore. I once again proceeded to break my phone. This time however it was not my fault. It was set to vibrate, it was on the edge of the table and whiz! bang! boom! what do you know my phone is in 18 pieces. So apologies if you’ve tried to text/call me over the past week. I’m unreachable. At first I wanted to love not having a phone like some purist hippie who enjoyed having my own time…but fuck that. It sucks.
Anyone seen Kath & Kim on NBC? Holy shit. This is a great show. Molly Shannon and Selma Blair are fantastically revolting and their comedic timing is a 10 out of 10. The gay dude from Best in Show is in it as well, and even though he’s good, they don’t need him. The whole show could just be conversations between Kath and Kim and it would work.
I saw the movie The Duchess on Friday night. Yes, I am totally gay. No, it wasn’t my choice. Yes, I have now seen The Duchess, Sex and the City and The Other Boleyn Girl. Yes, I am embarrassed to have seen all 3 of those. No, I don’t care what you think. Yes, my expectations were low so I actually enjoyed 2 of the 3 movies with Sex and the City being by far the worst. No, I hadn’t told Jericho about seeing any of these movies. Yes, I wish I didn’t just share this with everyone. No, I don’t blame you if you want to stop reading our blog now.
I give up in fantasy football. I’m done with it. I hearby retire both of my teams. I didn’t start Aaron Rodgers or Ben Rothlisberger because they were “hurt”. I benched Donald Driver in favor of Matt Jones and Ladanian Tomlinson and Maurice Jones-Drew are quite possibly the biggest pussies in all of America. And that’s coming from a dude who SAW THE DUCHESS THIS WEEKEND! I hate fantasy football. It’s stupid.
I like the show Mad Men. I can’t figure out why though. It’s dialogue is simple, it’s acting isn’t anything spicy but for some reason it’s a great show. Maybe it’s all about the white space, things that are implied rather than said. I don’t know. I’m not gonna try to figure it out. The main character Draper is crazy though for cheating on his wife. She’s smoking hot. I know that much.
I went to the Niners/Pats game with my dad today. 5 quick observations:
1. Matt Cassell might quite possibly be the worst QB in the NFL. He’s terrible.
2. Patriots fans (all Boston fans for that matter) talk funny, are blindly obsessed with their teams and are shockingly friendly. Maybe it’s just how they travel but despite popular belief the Pats fans we saw (and there were TONS of them at the game) were not total white trash cousin humpers.
3. People are idiots. Americans are idiots. From the guys who high-five each other for correctly picking which helmet has the hidden football under it to the morons who boo Mike Nolan during the first quarter when it’s 4th and 6 and the Niners punt team jogs onto the field. An NFL game is a great place to witness why our country is made up of a bunch of rejects.
4. At least half of the people in attendance wore jerseys. Jerseys were everywhere. There were of course the predictable ones; Gore, Willis and the poor suckers wearing Alex Smith. But for pure coolness, I saw a guy in an Ole Miss college jersey of Patrick Willis. Nasty. I also saw some chick in a Ben Coats jersey and randomly, an overweight Mexican guy in a Mark Chumura Packers jersey. Made no sense. But that Willis Ole Miss jersey was something else.
5. JT O’Sullivan is the real deal. He’s like a less endearing Jeff Garcia. He does everything he can to get the job done. Sure, he doesn’t have the rifle arm but he has what the grown-ups like to call “intangibles.” I was impressed with JT O’Sullivan. Now where can I find a UC Davis O’Sullivan jersey? That my friends would take the cake.
*Final note: Tahoe Banta wins for best comment of the month.