Tuesday, March 31, 2009


Fuck, fuck, double-turtle monkey humper. Fuck. I hate taking the bus. It’s so crowded with breath and condensation and touching and snot and weirdos. It makes my fucking skin crawl. I can’t figure out what’s worse…the drooling guy behind doctor prescribed wrap around sun glasses who keeps reaching his hand out to me like he wants me to touch him, the creepy 40-something woman with long white hair continuously sneezing into her hand, which mind you is protected by what appears to be a white mesh biking glove, or the clean cut dooshbag from the Marina who yells ‘Let her off people’ every time the bus stops. Yeah, we get it asshole. We know how the fucking bus works. As soon as I remove my testicles from this man’s left shoulder, contort my right leg so I can step over the impeccably dressed black guy without stepping on his alligator boots and duck so I don’t inhale a big furry Berkeley armpit from the 22-year old “God is a tree” chick then I can let her off. Man, I hate the fucking bus.


Monday, March 30, 2009

This Day in History

By Magglio and Jericho -

March 30, 1602:
In a bout of dysentery fueled-rage, William Shakespeare bites his thumb at a young nobleman. Distraught and detested, the young nobleman takes off his glove and waves it threateningly at Shakespeare. Humiliated and emasculated, Shakespeare locks himself in his room and writes the best plays of his career.

March 30, 1973:
Dane Cook was born. Through the butt. He was a butt baby.

March 30, 1982:
Elton John snorts an 8-inch long rail of cocaine and then drunkenly says the following, “27 years from now I’m going to go on a national tour with Billy Joel and screw him in his butthole every night.”

March 30, 1994:
Nic Cage last read a screenplay

March 30, 2000:
A young Jericho and Magglio sit outside their upcoming English Lit class feverishly trying to finish a joint before class starts. In the end, they decide the stress isn’t worth it and they head back home while rolling another.

March 30, 2002:
The last time Pam Anderson's vagina was a brunette

March 30, 2006:
Miles Simon, Khalid El-Amin, Trajon Langdon, Mateen Cleeves, a fifth of Wild Turkey and a loaded revolver ironically gather to watch the Final Four. Nobody says a word.

March 30, 2008:
We didn’t write a post. But the next day, on March 31st, we wrote this one

March 30, 2009, 5:05pm:
Jericho regrets suggesting this stupid idea in the first place


Friday, March 27, 2009

Dental, Vision, Life!

Six quick updates heading into the weekend:

1. I got the sniffles. I think it’s a combination of travel, no sleep and getting back into work. But I also have a lot of plans starting tonight. The question is, will the whisky completely wipe out my general feeling of shittiness or will it compound the problem?

2. Jericho and I watched the games together last night.We couldn’t stop laughing after realizing that it was Greg Paulus’ last game ever and he’d soon be selling life insurance or real estate or some shit like that. All night we were yelling ‘Paulus Insurance, how can I help you?” Guess you had to be there.

3. A month ago we saw Portugal. The Man perform at Café Du Nord. Two words; fuck yeah. This band is legit. I just bought their new(ish) album too. It turns me on. Like sundresses. Please, check them out.

4. Villanova is scary. They royally fucked Duke last night. Imagine if Nova would’ve actually hit some shots last night. It would have been a 40 point blowout.

5. Dear Kendall – I think you forgot what you’re supposed to do with me. I belong in your tummy, not on the sticky floor of the bar. Love - the 3am shot of Jameson. (Happy Bday Kendall)

6. KK’s fearless predictions for tonight’s games:
  • Syracuse 73 Oklahoma 68
  • UNC - 84 Gonzaga -78
  • Kansas - 63 Mich St. - 61
  • Louisville - 65 Zona - 62


Thursday, March 26, 2009

A&Ms...make it bounce!

By Magglio and Jericho

Let’s get one thing straight. I want to see the new movie ‘I Love You, Man.’ I think those dudes are funny, especially Jonah Hill. But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to plan a man date around it. All these stories I hear about two dudes going out to dinner then to this movie is gayer than two guys on a unicycle. Look, Jericho and I went on man dates before man dates existed, before the term “bromance” existed, and coined the term ‘man salads’ before any one else did. But that doesn’t mean that we’re going to put on our fanciest cocktail dresses, slam some cosmos and giggle on our way to the Sex in the City premiere. Do I make myself clear? Give me some steaks, some whisky and some MNF and then let’s talk man date. Grow a pair gentlemen.

Why do we still print the Phone Book? What a fucking waste of paper, money and time. Printing and distributing the phone book is like offering a movie on VHS, calling a restaurant to make a reservation or jerking off to the lingerie section of the Sears Catalogue. I would walk outside of my house and scream “I need to buy balloons!” before I looked that shit up in the Phone Book.

Is it wrong that I really want to see the Pussycat Dolls naked? Even though I’m totally convinced at least one of them has a dick. Not like a full on dick, but like an oversized WWE Chyna clit-dick. Know what I’m saying?

My new favorite phenomenon is chubby buff guys that wear really tight shirts; because you can’t really tell if they used to be ripped and packed on a few, or used to be el gordo and are shaping up. In other words, is this guy on his way somewhere or did he just leave?

We don’t really discuss religion on A&M and for good reason, but I need to ask for a ruling here. As a quick preface, I was raised in a multi-denominational house, was exposed to a little bit of everything, but don’t really side one way or the other and am generally very unknowledgeable about religion and religious customs. Anyway, my wife and I go to the same Easter function at her aunt’s house every year and got the official invite earlier this week. I was chatting about it with a few people and asked this question, “It’s a little early to send the invite, isn’t it? Was Jesus even dead yet?” The group was patently offended. I don’t get it – he died right? And we celebrate his rebirth on Easter? How was that question offensive?

Just an observation: whenever you see dogs humping how come the chick never seems to be enjoying it? Is it because there wasn’t any foreplay and he was just ramming it home? Or is she not an exhibitionist? This is the question that continues to baffle me.

This time of year always features my favorite mind-numbingly idiotic story: “Team X said they will listen to offers for the #1 pick.” No one wants the #1 pick; too much money and too much pressure to make the right pick. Think of it this way, would you spend half of your life savings to go on five dates with Cameron Diaz? Maybe you like each other, maybe you fall in love, get married and live the rest of your life spending her money and working on your short game. But what are the odds of that? Isn’t it more likely that after the fifth date she stands up with a “if you ever get 500 miles from me again I will have you shot and electrocuted,” as you look around for a US Weekly photographer in the slim hopes that maybe you can parlay this adventure into a stint on Fox’s new reality show “So You Think You Can Dance With a Monkey.” Well, sometimes NFL teams have to dance with a monkey, but no one ever really wants to.


Wednesday, March 25, 2009

It's going down

Ah shit. Yours truly has been invited to participate in what the kids are calling a podcast with the brain trusts at NFL Draft Day Countdown. This is a really exclusive podcast and they only invite the smartest and most handsome people in the world to participate. So naturally I was asked to join. It's going down tonight at 6:30pm (that's west coast time sucka. We don't speak east coast. Who do you think we are, ESPN?) If I figured this shit out correctly then you can listen right here on our blog. Or just read their overview and figure it out yourself:

"Tune in tonight to check out the latest LIVE episode of NFL Draft Day Countdown- Wednesday evening at 9:30 EST (6:30 PST). We'll cover the latest NFL news, Draft updates including player Pro Days and the latest changes to our Mock Draft and Big Board.

And as always, don't forget to subscribe to our RSS feed at NFLDraftDayCountdown.com for the latest breaking NFL news, Team Draft Needs, and ground breaking articles that bring you inside the NFL Draft War Room.

Don't forget- Tonight 9:30 EST (6:30 PST) call 724-444-7444, enter 41213 for the Caller ID or log-in to TalkShoe.com to join the show chat.

Download past podcasts on iTunes or Talk Shoe- Search: NFL Draft Day Countdown."

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

16 hours to kill

San Francisco to New York is roughly a 6 hour flight. New York to Buenos Aires takes another 10 and a half hours. That’s a total of 16.5 hours of me sitting on my fat ass with nothing to do. Except watch movies. FDA, FTC and USDA approved movies deemed socially acceptable for an airplane viewing audience. Meaning no foul language and no chance of a topless scene. It was like Hebrew school all over again. Man I watched some awful movies. Let’s do a quick run down of the movies I suffered through. And yes I watched every single one. What else was I supposed to do?

The Secret Life of Bees
A story about dumpy women and their obsession with dusty roads, ugly frocks and the repugnant men in their lives. Similar to the Sarah Palin story.

Dakota Fanning. Please let me know when it’s ok to publicly obsess over Dakota Fanning. I understand she’s only 15 but this chick is gonna be bangin’ in a few years.

Everything else. I didn’t actually watch the whole movie. I think Queen Latifah was in it and that big bitch from American Idol. Oh yeah Alicia Keys made an appearance but she’s about as worthless of an actress as Drew Barrymore post age 6.

Torture scale:
9 out of 10. This movie was fucking stupid.

Quantum of Solace
A James Bond movie trying to break the record for most pointless car chase (or similar type chases) in the history of film.

The theme song written, produced and performed by Jack White. (I think Alicia Keys sings on it too. That bitch has no idea how lucky she is.)

Everything else. Does anyone actually watch these movies? Can we please just stop making James Bond movies? They’re like the Brett Favre or the U2 or the PopTarts of movies. Nobody gives a shit. Your time has passed. Please, just go away.

Torture scale:
4 out of 10. Cool looking cars. Good looking chicks. And let’s be honest, Daniel Craig looks great without a shirt.

The Duchess
Kiera Knightly purses her lips and struts around in awkward renaissance fair attire. Similar to those nerds in Golden Gate Park every 3rd Saturday of the month.

Feeling the internal moral dilemmas of a woman coming of age in a land of male dominated society. The tension is palatable.

It’s The Duchess for fuck’s sake. If you need me to spell out the negatives of this movie then please stop reading my blog.

Torture scale:
7 out of 10. Stupid movie. Keira Knightly is stupid too.

The Express
The story of Ernie Davis, the first black man to win the Heisman Trophy.

Football scenes. Cliché football lines everywhere. Dennis Quaid.

Any minute it feels like they’re gonna break into song a la Remember the Titans. At least there’s no Denzel.

Torture scale:
3 out of 10. At least this movie had some balls. Way better than The Polar Express. Anyone remember that one? With the creepy 3D kids?

The Day the Earth Stood Still
Aliens invade earth and plan on killing all human beings until Jennifer Connolly (who I want to put my poems inside of*) convinces Keanu Reeves (who plays the alien, no really) that they shouldn’t. No seriously. That’s the plot. That’s the whole fucking story.

A gut wrenching performance by Trey Smith, Will and Jada’s 11 year-old shit stain son.

Everything. Worst movie ever. Go back and read the overview. Jennifer Connolly doesn’t even hint at her fun bags let alone whip them out. Remember the good old days? Like the double-sided dildo she dominates in Requiem for a Dream? I sure do.

Torture scale:
15 out of 10. Worst. Movie. Ever.

Slumdog Millionaire
Overview: N/A (we all know this story.) This was actually my second time seeing this movie. I wanted to see how it held up the second time around and frankly my Stephen King book of short stories was getting boring. I know, blasphemous.

The little kids are still endearing. The chick is smoking hot when she grows up. The music is catchy and the director’s influence still stands up.

This movie will suck in a year. Trust me on this one. I think Jericho mentioned it earlier. This movie does not age well. The gimmick of the game show wears thin and the story line is just weak. It’s like watching Die Hard today. If Bruce Willis just had a cell phone then the movie would be 3 minutes long.

Torture scale:
3 out of 10. Second time around it’s still interesting to watch. But don’t wait too much longer to see this movie again. It’s gonna suck some serious dick in a few year’s time. Kinda like Dakota.

*Source: Tahoe Banta


Monday, March 23, 2009

I want you all to know that I'm still at work

So here's an enormous picture of Tom Selleck.

I'm back.

On a terrifyingly gripping episode of Beverly Hills 90210, Donna was once held captive in her bedroom by a burglar with a knife who was threatening to seriously harm her. Just when it seemed her gapped breasts would be assaulted by said intruder, her boyfriend David Silver walked in the house. He couldn’t see Donna or the intruder however, because they were in the bedroom behind closed doors.

“Donna” David called out. “Are you here?”

“Yes Dave, I’m in the bedroom.” She responded as the intruder held the knife to her neck.

“Is everything a’ight?” he said quite wiggerishly.

“Yes Dave, everything’s fine.”

I forgot what happens next but the point of the story is that he realizes she’s in trouble because she kept calling him Dave. She never called him Dave. Ever. He catches on and saves the day and then wrote a powerful hip-hop ballad on his keyboard to commemorate the moment.

So what does this teach us? I don’t refer to myself as Mags. Never. Only Magglio. Or Sugaloaf. So when Jericho posts fake posts supposedly from me and then signs them as "Mags"…well, you should know it’s just not me. Jericho missed me. He missed me a lot. It was his way of telling me so. He can be such a sappy little bitch sometimes.

Well, I’m back ladies and gentlemen. Back in the U.S.A. Back for good. My trip was fantastic. I was desperately deprived of sports information but on the flip side I was way oversexed. Looks like Jericho didn’t totally fuck up the blog which is great and totally surprising. I haven’t written a thing in two weeks. My fingers are softer than Seth Green’s dick on a Friday night. I’m itching to break them in again.

So, stay tuned. Cause I'm back.


A Few March Madness Thoughts

* A weird year for the Pac 10 got weirder this weekend – we’ve got one team in the Sweet 16 and it’s a team that finished with a losing conference record.

*I think we can go ahead and put this one in stone: no one enjoys a fast break layup more than a two-hundred-pound black woman. No one.

*Doesn’t USC’s coach, Tim Floyd (pic above), strike you as someone who has a water heater for sale? Not really sure why, I just think you could trawl craigslist and find a few water heaters with Floyd’s name attached to them.

*Here’s my question, if you’re picking a name for your son and the leading contenders are J’nathan, J’mison and JaJaun, what comes in second? I mean, when your narrow it down to J’mison and X, what the fuck is X? Is it crazier, like J’ereMe, or completely normal, like Sean? Why hasn’t Newsweek or 60 Minutes picked up on this yet?

*Doesn’t it feel like UConn has the same exact team every single year? Big, lanky center from Nambia or someplace. Short, squat PG who can hit threes. Athletic 3 who everyone knows will suck in the pros. Kind of comforting that some things never change.

*Wake Forest? Really? At least buy my bracket dinner first before you yazz all over it.

*Let’s put it this way, if you’re a skinny, hideously ugly, 6-9 white guy who can shoot threes and you aren’t recruited by Duke, you need to reevaluate your life. This is kind of like being a C list actor in Hollywood and not having a drink with Paris Hilton. Which raises a different question; is Paris Hilton the Duke of D-bag actors, or is Duke the Paris Hilton of ass-ugly white guys with 25 foot range?


Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Do I really have to do this?

Do I really have to sign in from vacation and post to the blog? Is Jericho that much of an ass twat that he can’t post anything himself? This is unbelievable. This is inconceivable. This is intolerable. I want a divorce. My man crush is over. I don’t care how good he looks in the shower or how much better he’s looked since I got night vision on my telescope. He’s a full-scale pop tart ass munch. So don’t worry, faithful readers, the sheriff is back, albeit from a sketchy Internet café in Argentina. Here’s a few things I’ve learned so far that I wanted to share:

Sarongs are surprisingly comfortable, totally convenient and not nearly as gay as they seem. It’s kind of like combining your shorts and towel into one perfect fashion accessory. I was a little hesitant at first, but hey, if Beckham does it; it can’t be that gay, right? Besides, going to a beach in Buenos Aires and not wearing a Sarong would be like going to Japan and not eating Sushi, going to Rome and not having pasta, or going to New York and not soliciting sex from a guy in a Central Park bathroom. I give sarongs a 10 out of 10. Whether or not this will work in the States is yet to be seen, but I’m definitely giving it a shot.

Culo de comer
This is a traditional course in Uruguay, which translates roughly as “ass eating.” Apparently the tradition dates back to olden times – when rich land owners would put food in their butts as a way to show their great wealth – as if to say, “look at me, I’m so rich and so full I have no where else to put my food, so up my butt it goes.” In a way, eating in Uruguay is somewhat akin to eating in Paris or Italy in that there are always 6-7 small courses, the only difference being that the last course is supposed to be shoved up your nar nar. Now, it’s not like you’re shoving a whole fish up your butt or anything, nor is it something dry you have to force up there, the culo de comer course is always small and slippery like a date soaked in olive oil or a slice of fresh grapefruit. Granted this took some getting used to, but most foreign customs are, and turning it down is highly offensive to your hosts – like biting your noodles in Japan or not burping after a large meal in France. I’ve really dug the culo de comer thing and I’m thinking that I may shove the peanuts up my ass on the flight home as a way to say my final goodbye to this glorious country.

The word "glorious"
This is a total vacation word, isn’t it? I don’t think it’s possible to use the word glorious in everyday life – unless Jack White, Tim Lincecum or Ryan Phillipe are prominently involved of course. I’ve been trying to say the world glorious at least ten times a day to remind myself to appreciate each moment. If my brain ever drifts to work or to real life I just say “glorious” and I’m right back in it. “This sunset is glorious.” “These Cosmopolitans are glorious.” “My cumo de comer just dripped onto the back of my sarong – how glorious.”

Snorkeling in the bathtub
Yes, I felt like a retarded Ferris Buehler the first time I did this, but hear me out. We moved to an apartment with an enormous bathtub about a year ago, which I’ve subsequently ignored the way Jack Black ignores his treadmill or Pam Anderson ignores the burning feeling in her bang bang. I just don’t get baths – the water gets cold and splashes everywhere and I can never figure out how much of my body to have in and out of the tub. Anyway, I had a total revelation on this trip. I brought a snorkel into the tub with me and voila! Now I can be submerged and still breathe and even swim around a bit. You can even make noises and battleship sounds. Brrrrooom. Lowering periscope. Lowering periscope. I love this so much. I may never leave the tub again.

The Tango
Here’s a little secret that you don’t know about me. I can dance. And not like white-guy dancing, which is basically just being able to move in line with the rhythm – no, I can really fucking dance. You’ve heard of Fred Astaire? Gene Kelly? Justin Timberlake? Concrete fucking shoes compared to what I’m putting out there. I took tap, ballroom and Coont lessons as a kid, and that shit was on full display in Buenos Aires. I moved so well that our dance instructor Ricardo Cobos asked if he could touch my penis, which is apparently the ultimate sign of respect in the Argentinean tango community.

(Side note, you know how you wait 45 minute to swim after eating? Well, the rule of thumb is to wait 2 hours after the culo de comer before dancing. I found this out the hard way, as did the 25 people in our class. I was spraying chorizo around the room like a piñata at a corpophiliac's birthday party.)

Anyway, those are just the observations that came to my head; I’ll have lots more to report on when I’m back in the States. Hopefully Jericho can step away from his ass-licking job to get a post up and keep this going. And yes, I’m fully calling him out here. Until next time friends…



Monday, March 16, 2009

How The Fuck Does The Winner of the SEC Tourney Get a #13 Seed?

Damn it to hell. Yes, it doesn't really matter who you play in the first round. Yes, the Dawgs play in Portland which is essentially our backyard. Yes, I need to stop being such a cry baby and just start getting fired up. But Miss St in the first round, followed by Purdue (a fucking really good #5) in the 2nd? That's dog shit. Or dawg shit to be more precise. Shit.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Sexual Position, Dog Breed or Golf Lingo?

You know the old joke where the guy is looking at Rorschach diagrams and thinks that everything looks like a sexual position? His doctor tells him that be may be obsessed with sex and he replies with, “Me? You’re the one showing all the dirty pictures!”

I think there’s more truth to that than anyone really wants to admit. I don’t think I’m alone here when I say that almost everything in life sounds like a sexual position.

Paper jam. Fish sticks. Taxi cab. Movie popcorn. The Mayor, Governor and / or Congressman. PowerPoint. Swivel char. Water filter. Frying pan. Double-fisted donkey blast.

I mean, couldn’t you use any of those to finish this sentence, “that bitch was a freak, I took her home and gave her a X.”

To me though, the two groups of lingo that seem to be interchangeable with sexual positions are dog breeds and golf talk. So let’s play a little game, I’ll list a few terms below, and you decide which group it belongs to.

(cue Regis Philbin voice)

That’s right folks, it’s time to play America’s favorite game: Dog Breed, Golf Talk or Sexual Position!

So, I’m teeing up on eight and I notice my shaft is broken. I walk over to the clubhouse to get it fixed and this cute little girl in the clubhouse offers to clean my balls and then gave me a rusty trombone.

Man, this girl was such a slut. She’s grabbing my German Sheep Hound under the table, takes me in the back and gives me a Portuguese Water Dog in the fucking bathroom!

So, I asked my girlfriend to rake my sand trap last night, that doesn’t make me gay does it?

Would your rather give Rosie O’Donnell a Norwegian Spitz for 15 minutes or Chow Chow on Clive Owen’s St. Bernard until he Akitas on your Golden?

Megan Fox could eat $50 worth of Taco Bell and then get on a treadmill for 2 hours and I’d still give her a chili dip.

It started off really well; I mounted her for a Cincinnati Bow Tie, flipped her over and gave her the Tony Danza. So I’m yelling “Who’s the boss?! Who’s the boss?!” and she’s loving it – but when it was time for the Slimy Dragon I tried to maneuver into a Houdini, but completely missed and gave her an Angry Pirate. Oh well, can’t win ‘em all.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Risky Business

As you can surely tell by now, Magglio is the CEO, COO, EVP, SVP and VP of Apples & Moustaches and I’m the director of suck my fucking dick. Magglio raises the blog, cooks for it, bathes it, coaches its baseball and soccer teams – I buy it beer and show it porn. Magglio makes sure the blog is a finely tuned, well-oiled machine; I make sure the blog has the confidence and bravado to do other blogs in the butt. Magglio is “Finding Nemo” and I’m “Finding Nemo with a Face Full of Fish Pussy.”

Now, you might read that last paragraph and think it’s just a subtle way of calling Magglio a swollen labia in public – but that’s only part of it. Magglio is in Argentina for the next few weeks and everyone – myself included – is asking the same question: what the hell is going to happen to A&M when Mama is gone? Will there be new posts everyday? Will all of you who stumbled on our site because you can’t spell Mesnick and Magglio is smart enough to know you are dumb enough to Google Meznick, leave when you don’t see Magglio's usual fare of the Bachelor, the Giants and Patch’s outfits? What is Jericho capable of without being constantly censored by Mama Mags?

I have no idea either. I’ll tell you one thing though. It’s going to get ugly.

My parents are gone, want to come over and nail Rebecca De Mornay on my couch?

Thursday, March 5, 2009

No market for TO? Really?

"I don't think there's a big market for him," says ESPN analyst Trent Dilfer. "It's going to take a coach with a big ego who feels he can handle any personality."

"Is he looking for $10 million, $5 million or $1.5 million?" Keyshawn Johnson asked. "If he thinks he's going to make high-end money, it isn't going to happen. He strikes me as a guy where it would hurt his pride to take less than he thinks he's worth.So there are a lot of factors."

"He's been one of the great receivers for 10 years, but he just isn't as good as he once was," Dilfer said. "He's not worthy of his salary as a No. 1 receiver."

Said Johnson, "If he didn't see this coming, then shame on him. This is the reality of life in the NFL. At some point, everybody's going to get cut."

To quote Walter Sobchak, "has the whole fucking world gone crazy!?!?!?"

I'm not here to argue that TO isn't a malcontent, a stubborn 13 yr old boy in a 34 yr old-freak-of-nature's body, difficult to coach, difficult to play with and all those things. But you're fucking kidding yourself if you don't think that some team isn't going to jump at the chance to add him to their offense (yes, that's a double negative, but I'm still smarter than Keyshawn).

(Side note: when a story has been speculated for weeks and then happens, reporters aren't allowed to use the word "shocking" - if the Pats cut Brady that would be "shocking" - this is not shocking.)

I just did a quick run down of last year's standings, by my count there are 14 teams that lack a true #1 receiver and would fucking salivate at the chance to add TO.

In no particular order: (team and who they trot out on Sundays as their "#1")

WA: Santana Puss

CHI: Willie Gault, right?

DET: Mike Furrey - no, I don't even have a joke here

TB: Michael wait, I got an extension? I suck! Clayton

NO: Marques Barbie Doll Colston

SF: Arnaz I try really hard Battle

STL: Torry I was good before electricity Holt

MIA: Ted Ginn and Ted Ginn's vagina

NYJ: Jericho I'm not related to Jericho Cotchery

BAL: Derrick it doesn't matter how many articles Peter King writes about me being underrated I'm still not scaring anyone Mason

TENN: Um, Brandon not even the ball boy trusts me Jones?

JACK: Reggie please don't tell anyone I went to UW Williams

SD: Chris Steel Magnolias Chambers

OAK: Javon have they framed me for murder yet Walker

That's 14 teams - 14! Almost half the fucking league.

(BTW, the list above doesn't include PHI and MIN, both teams desperate for a #1, but too much history with TO to go near - adding them brings the list to 16)

Say what you will about TO, if you don't think someone is signing him at 2 years for $15 - you're a goddamn moron.At first glance, BAL seems to make the most sense, doesn't it? They add a vertical element to their O, have Ray Ray to keep him in line and with TO, Ray and Ed Reed could potentially trot out the greatest "miked up" segment in history.

Up and Down

Thumbs up: The Niners passing on Kurt Warner

That wrinkled pussy has about half a season left in his arm before it craps out. Plus, in Arizona he had two of the best receivers in the game to throw to. If he would’ve gone to San Francisco he would’ve been asked to hand off 7 out of 10 times and then thrown the ball to Arnaz Battle. Nothing against Battle but he’s no Anquan or Fitz. It was a blessing when Warner didn’t sign with the Niners. I don’t even have to make a Brenda Warner lesbian joke here or anything.

Thumbs down: The Dodgers signing Manny

You know my thoughts on this one. What makes it worse is I’m in LA this week so I have to put up with the bullshit on a local level. What’s worse is my addiction to the sports page just further adds insult to injury. It’s like having Polaroid’s of your wife blowing another dude and continuing to look at them over and over again. Secretly somewhere Russell Martin is praying that he gets to blow Manny someday. Gross.

Thumbs up: 72 and sunny

For all the shit I flip LA there is one truth of the matter. The weather is second to none. I’m sitting here reading about massive storms in the east coast and then deciding if I should roll up my sleeves before I go outside or wait until I start walking. Yeah. I’m walking to where I need to be today. That’s how nice I am. Well, truth be told, I’m keeping my eyes out for Lindsay Lohan. Walking makes me a lot more available for viewing.

Thumbs down: Business travel

It’s definitely not as cool as it should be. Even when you’re in a swanky hotel in the heart of Beverly Hills with a corporate expense account at your disposal. Nope, not that cool. The luster of business travel wears off about as quickly as Kevin Federline gains weight. It’s the little things, like the delay on the TV when you press the power button. In hotels there’s always a delay. And the shower curtain always tries to touch you while you’re showering. What’s that all about? I don’t want some mildew and jizz invested piece of cheap plastic rubbing my bare bottom when I’m showering. I’m ready to come home now.

Thumbs up: The two week trip I’m about to leave for

Yes. In two days I am flying to Argentina for the next two weeks. I think more than anything I’m looking forward to unplugging from everyday life, checking email, being connected, reading feminine blogs. I’ve never been to Argentina let alone South America. This should be an adventure.

Thumbs down: The blog running unsupervised

Hold on to your hats kids. When Magglio is away the kids will play. I will leave the blog in Jericho’s “trusting” hands over the next 2 weeks. I will also be publishing his full address and phone number on the day I leave so that if for some reason he disappears for more than a few days you all can hound him to post something. Power to the people.


Wednesday, March 4, 2009

I’m really, really smart and here’s proof

Here’s a few pant-crappingly good ideas for you:

Salad Dressing scale
Much like bananas, Thai food and fake tits, if salad isn’t perfect it’s terrible. Why don’t we have a formalized scale for ordering the amount of salad dressing? You could walk into a steak house in Seattle or Raleigh, order a filet medium rare and you know exactly how it’s coming in both places. We need a 1-5 salad dressing scale that everyone in the world follows – from little salad bars on the corner to fancy restaurants. “Caesar salad, 3, with chicken please.” See how easy that is?

Toilet bowls that glow in the dark
There’s nothing worse than standing in a dark bathroom at 3am having the following conversation with yourself, “do I just aim and hope for the best? Do I sit down like a little bitch? Do I pee in the shower and let it run for a minute before I get in tomorrow?” Let’s make all of these questions disappear with toilet bowls that glow in the dark. Everyone can applaud now.

Put W. back in theaters
Question: Why wasn’t W. well received by critics or audiences?
Answer: We weren’t ready for it.

George W is like a psycho girlfriend – you can’t truly appreciate how crazy she is until you’ve had some time away from her, started dating someone fun and normal and had conversations with yourself like “you know what? It was weird and totally unacceptable when she took a dump on my chest when I ate all the leftovers without asking her first.” I understand why they put the movie out when they did – trying to capitalize on the election and W’s 2% approval rating. Well, we were just to used to George to really appreciate what a fucking knuckle he was / is. I say they put the movie out again to celebrate Barack’s first 100 days with the slogan, “Now that we have a real president let’s take a moment to remember what a fucktard this guy is.”

We all collectively sue ESPN for sexual harassment
Does anyone else feel a little violated when SportsCenter has a “Bio Blast” segment? To those who haven’t been Bio Blasted yet, whenever ESPN provides background information on someone – aka their bio – they refer to the segment as “Bio Blast” - easily the most perverse thing on TV right now. Look, I’m excited about Michael Crabtree, I want to know things about Michael Crabtree, what I don’t want is a Michael Crabtree Bio Blast at 7am. Let the hood rats and baby mamas take his Bio Blasts, I just want to know his high school numbers and vertical leap please. And besides, if Bill Clinton and R. Kelly have taught us anything, when there’s documented evidence of a Bio Blast, the plaintiff always wins. So let’s all grab our stained blue dresses and sue these cunts!

Hollywood offers Al Pacino, Robert De Niro and Anthony Hopkins the same buyout clause that the Packers offered Brett Favre.

If you put together a list of the best actors of all time, Pacino and De Niro would be on every one of them and Hopkins would be on most. However, nowadays, the minute you see their names on a poster you immediately know the movie is going to be terrible. Like “uh oh, I just dropped my keys in the urinal at Candlestick” terrible. I think Hollywood offers them $25 million each to serve in an advisory role – basically they talk other aging actors out of making bad movies. Word is that Indy 5 is in the works, so the sooner we can get these three signed and having lunch with Harrison Ford the better.

Everyone should use this sentence at least once a day, “I wouldn’t want you to think I was only in this for the free cheesesteaks.”
It just works. Your wife / girlfriend, your boss, your clients, the dry cleaner, the fucktards from Comcast, your doctor, your in-laws. The minute someone says thank you or just acknowledges that you’ve done something, you reply with the cheesesteak line.

“Hey, thanks again for bringing my toaster back.”
“No worries, I wouldn’t want you to think I was only in this for the free cheesesteaks.”

“Honey, thanks again for the flowers, they’re beautiful.”
“Of course! I wouldn’t want you to think I was only in this for the free cheesesteaks.”

See what I’m saying? It just works.

Grocery stores invent / implement machines that stack fruit and veggies by readiness.
Honestly, how much of your life is wasted rummaging through avocados trying to find a good one? A month? Three months? Here’s the solution, grocery stores put in machines that stack and sort veggies and fruit by freshness – not only does this save incalculable time, but it also lets us avoid that weird stare down moment when someone arrives at a section the same time you do. You’re both going through the peppers, trying to find the good one first, finally settling on a half-ripe one just so you can make the “fuck you, Glen, I own the fucking pepper section!” look.

One of the big three auto dealers signs a deal with Apple to help design a new line of cars.
The American auto industry is fucked and everyone knows it. There’s only one company that could possible save it: Apple. I know what you’re thinking, “the iCar!” – which is exactly why I’m writing this post and not you, you fucking asstards! No, not the whole car, Apple just designs the dashboard, putting in a complete multi-media system that syncs wirelessly with the rest of your Apple products. Think about it – you can sit at your desk, download music from iTunes and then send it directly to your car stereo. An iPhone app lets you download podcasts right to your car. The list goes on and on. The problem with American cars is that they aren’t cool anymore; they’re big, clunky, slow and old – I think Apple could save them.


P.S. You're welcome.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Jason Meznick is a Big Fat Bitch

Ten thoughts about the most dramatic Bachelor ceremony yet…

1. The Bachelor is such a big fat fucking puss. We set the over/under for number of times Jason Meznick would cry at 3. This was surpassed within the first 30 minutes. It all makes sense now that his son Ty is such a wet noodle. Nice role model dad!

2. What the fuck was Deanna wearing? Really Deanna? This is what you chose to wear to get your man back? She waddled in wearing an interview suit and a puffy jacket. We set the over/under for total amount of weight she’s gained at 20lbs. It’s gonna be a close one. Stay tuned.

3. Anyone realize that they never had a “friend” episode? Think about it. Where was the episode where the girl’s best friends show up and waive their single tits in the Bachelor’s face? And what about the episode where Jason’s friends come over to the house and make inappropriate comments about each chick's child bearing hips.

4. Don’t you feel like the real reason Melissa and Jason weren’t right for each other was because she hit him? Frequently. And he just couldn’t take it any more.

5. It has to be said. The clip of The Bachelor stumbling around on his balcony and collapsing into uncontrollable sobs might quite possibly be the most amazing moment in bachelor history. Do you think he watches now, turns to his friends, and says ‘oh man they sure make me look like a flaming labia’ or do you think he turns to his friends and says “it really was heart wrenching…and it rocked me to the core.”

6. At any point, when Jason kept referencing that he had feelings for 2 women and didn’t know what to do, did the producers consider a 3-way? Not even a wedding. Just like a soft core 3-way. Maybe we could even get Chris to narrate.

7. Three words: Fuck US Weekly. Seriously. They ruined the fucking show. If you didn’t know about the twist at the end then I wonder what it must’ve been like to witness. But the fact that a major magazine reports the ending 5 days before it’s shown is just bullshit. I don’t care if it was staged. I mean really, are we looking for integrity in The Bachelor? I’m more pissed that US Weekly ruined it. Consider my subscription cancelled.*

8. I’ll say one thing…the stabbin' cabin they hooked him up with was pretty sweet. We set the over/under for the number of piledrivers delivered at 3.5. This was easily surpassed after the first hour.

9. What the fuck was up with the chick’s dresses and hair for the final rose ceremony? Now I know that this makes me sound like a total chick (wouldn’t be the first time) but seriously. What the fuck were they thinking? Melissa had some bullshit Princess Leia hair and Molly looked like she was going to junior prom circa 1987.

10. After all is said and done, Jason Meznick comes off looking like a gigantic dick head. And I’m left counting down the days until the next ‘most dramatic rose ceremony yet.’

*I’m just kidding. I was angry. I didn’t mean what I just said. Can you forgive me?