Monday, June 29, 2009


*Note, this post was originally posted at 8:58am with projected numbers - it was updated at 3:15 to reflect the official numbers.

As my prom date said, “I knew it would be big, but I had no idea it would be that big.”

Just as I surprised my date with a stretch limo, Transformers shocked the box office with a full anal assault. Consider the following.

Opening Weekend:
My prediction: $105m (#9 all time)
Actual: $109m (#7 all time)

I missed by $4m, but I’m still giving myself an A+ for that one. You should too.

Opening 5 days (including Weds and Thurs):
My prediction: $148m (#7 all time)
Actual: $200m (#2 all time)

There are some amazing numbers on this list, but the 5-day gross is by far the most impressive. We all knew this movie would have a big weekend but no one could have predicted how well this movie was going to perform on Wednesday and Thursday. Transformers 2 absolutely shattered the record for biggest Wednesday of all time with $61m - $15m more than Harry Potter 5 pulled two summers ago. Considering that Transformers’ Wednesday is not only the biggest Wednesday of all time, but it actually ranks #2 for the biggest single day of all time, just missing the Dark Knight’s $67m opening – which was on a Friday, btw. That’s fucking incredible. The movie followed up with $28m on Thursday (the 4th biggest Thursday, btw) for a ludicrous $89m heading into the weekend.

Worldwide Opening Weekend (US + Int.):
My prediction: $240m (#7 all time)
Actual: $390m (#1 all time)

$200m domestically + $190m internationally = $390m and the biggest international opening of all time. Incredible numbers.

So if you’re scoring at home:

Opening Weekend: #7
Opening 5-day gross: #2
Worldwide Opening: #1
Biggest Wednesday: #1
Biggest Thursday: #4
Biggest Opening Day: #2
All time domestic: #91 (and counting)
All time worldwide: #112 (and counting)

Where does it go from here? Well, even though the movie is mirroring the early success of the Dark Knight, it lacks the staying power of that film to sustain this pace. Because it opened so massively, it’ll definitely make enough noise over the next few weeks to finish in the top #25 domestically and top #30 worldwide, but I’m guessing the movie has peaked and will start falling from here. I bet we see a 65-75% decline next weekend (which is still around $40m, but still…). That’s really just picking nits at this point, $201m after five days is fucking ridiculous. Congrats, Megan Fox’s lips, tits and slutty facial expressions, you did it.


Thursday, June 25, 2009

Summer Box Office Review…Before Transformers Destroys It

8 weeks into a fairly underwhelming box office season, let’s recap a few of the high and lowlights.

My best prediction: That Terminator 4 would tank domestically
Now, $120m might not look bad on paper, but do you realize this movie cost $200m to make? If you were a studio exec, would you green light this movie at $50m? Throw in Christian Bale’s rant, the fact that Arnold is fucking up California rather than bad guys and the massive, massive budget and this movie smelled like asshole from the word go. Granted it’s performing well overseas with a little over $200m, but I bet there’s a few unemployed studio execs that aren’t happy with that $120.

My worst prediction: That Up would be Pixar’s first lackluster performer
Note to self, never bet against Pixar. Never. The movie opens with $68, follows up with a monster $44 in its second weekend, $30 in its third and now sits at $231, good for #62 all time. Through four weeks, Up is performing on par with Finding Nemo (the studio’s biggest hit with $340m) and should end up being the studio’s 2nd biggest movie. Shows what I know.

Best Performance: Star Trek
The reinvention is working. With $240m domestically (good for #55 all time) and another $125 internationally, the movie is the early winner of the 2009 box office (for a few more days anyway) and has re-energized a franchise that seemed deader than dead 5 years ago.

Worst Performance: Imagine That
I’m tempted to mention Angels and Demons ($130m to date, $150m production cost), or the aforementioned T4 ($120m, $200m cost) but we have to give special attention to Eddie’s latest turd. $12m on a $55m budget, now that’s stinky. No one takes a dump on celluloid like Eddie Murphy, huh?

Biggest “Sleeper”: The Hangover
One of my biggest media pet peeves: when they completely over-report the possibility of something happening and then act completely shocked when it happens. If ESPN is going to lead with “Cowboys Considering Cutting Ties with TO” for the entire month of February, they can’t say “In Shocking Move, Cowboys Say Adios to TO” when it comes true in March – that shit just doesn’t work. The Hangover is the same way. For months people mentioned how this looked like the sleeper of the summer, now that it’s true, they’re acting shocked about the same thing. Oh well, with $160m after three weeks, this movie is on track for right around $230m, eclipsing Beverly Hills Cop as the biggest R-rated comedy of all time, that’s cool no matter how you slice it.

Best International Performer: Angels and Demons
When the movie opened, I mentioned that the real value for this franchise is overseas; Angels is continuing that trend with $330m abroad and only $130m here. The movie is #79 all time internationally (and should end up between #60-65) but is only #254 domestically. Crazy.

Enough dry humping, let’s slap on an extra ribbed for her pleasure and get this party started. Here’s what I’m predicting for Transformers:

Opening Weekend: $105m (#9 all time)
Opening 5 days (including Weds and Thurs): $148m (#7 all time)
Worldwide Opening Weekend (US and Int.): $240m (#7 all time)

I fucking hate this move, but I can’t fucking wait to watch it open.


Wednesday, June 24, 2009

A&M and check out that chick!

My wife’s obsession with donuts has reached an all time high. You ever meet someone who gets an idea in his or her mind and just can’t let it go? That’s what my wife is like, but only when the subject of donuts is brought up. I’m serious. At the slightest mention of a donut the negotiations begin. “Let’s go for a walk” or “I heard about this one place that has the old fashion frosting” or “I’ll suck your dick for a thousand dollars.” Just kidding. That was from The Big Lebowski. I just felt like quoting Tara Reid in her greatest ever performance.

We saw Food, Inc last night. For you redneck fuckers in the middle of our country Food, Inc is a movie about the production of food in the U.S. It’s eye opening to say the least. But I don’t want to preach. Though it’s hard for me to keep quiet after seeing what I saw. My biggest advice is to go see it yourself and make your own opinions. Don’t worry; it’s not about limp dicked vegans. Let me say, I will continue to eat meat. I just want to be certain where my meat came from, why the Bananas are from Ecuador and what exactly a GoGurt is. Still not sure. I’ll see you at the Farmer’s Market.

Last night Tim Lincecum went nine complete innings, struck out 12 and gave up only one run. So naturally I stayed up to watch SportsCenter so I could see the Giants and Timmy get their due respect. I waited 55 minutes. They covered a WNBA game before they covered the Giants. If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a thousand times. Fuck the East Coast Media. Fuck Bristol, Connecticut. And fuck you Chris Berman. Thank you.

I’m addicted to my phone. And it’s reached unprecedented heights. You see, I have an iPhone. It’s made by Apple. You may have heard of them. I have a routine bordering on autistic. I check my email, my Facebook, my text messages, hell even the weather non-stop. (I’ve already sent and received 12 texts while writing this post alone. I’m like a 13-year old girl!) It’s started to hinder my everyday activities. I have to consciously leave my phone in the bedroom so it doesn’t travel with me through the rest of the house. Or else I’ll check it. And then I’ll check it again. Hell, even when I take Patch to ‘drop it like it’s hot’ in the morning I am checking my email. Surprisingly I am still no better at returning phone calls. Sorry Joshy.

On a scale of one to who gives a fuck my excitement for the NBA draft tomorrow is at about a 2. Who gives a fuck? The Warriors will draft a lanky, athletic, 6-10 guy with a ton of ‘upside’ and someone with big ears and a goofy face out of UCLA will get drafted way too early. There are some things that never change.

Who the fuck decided which words replace others in the autocorrect function on iPhones? The iPhone automatically corrects your words while you type. One of my friends sent me a text this past weekend about the pants Ricky Barnes was wearing on Day 3 of the U.S. Open. I attempted to respond with ‘Those pants are straight gangster.’ But the fucking phone corrected it to say ‘Those pants are straight hamster.’ Amazing. There has to be a thousand stories out there like that. I’m going to start saving my auto corrects. Good post fodder.

I’m happy to report both of my fantasy football league draft days are set. My college league will draft Friday, August 28 and my high school league will draft on Saturday, August 29th. Both leagues are now accepting applications for a cocktail waitress during the event. Requirements: must be able to make simple cocktails, must be able to serve drinks to guys even when they are way past their limit and must be willing to suck a cock for a thousand dollars. I’m just kidding! There I go again. That was The Big Lebowski. Not me. I would never…how dare you!


Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Apples and Moustaches - Tuesday Edition

By Magglio and Jericho

I saw Valkyrie last night and it was truly awful. Terrible. I hated that movie so much. Why did they cast all American and British actors to play Nazis? 25 years ago, we all universally agreed to ignore that Tom Cruise is five feet tall, but as a Nazi colonel with an American accent? That’s just not happening, folks. This is like having a casting call for a Jenna Jameson biopic in a Mormon colony. Sure the Mormons can handle the anal, but what about the rest?

I’ve been pondering this question for a while now. What do you think happens more often? A person walks into and through Ikea and leaves without buying a thing. Or, a person walks into a Blockbuster or video store, peruses the selection, and leaves without renting a movie. I consistently fall into both categories. I just wanted to know if this is normal.

While we’re on the subject of movies to avoid, here’s another one: Bottom Dweller: The Final Voyage. Like the rest of you, sometimes I just want to see a six-foot Russian girl with fake tits get nailed on a sandy beach. Who doesn’t, right? Well, Bottom Dweller: The Final Voyage offers plenty of that, except with one notable exception: no money shots. WTF? It seemed strange at first, but as the movie cruised along and the sandy beach became the jeep parked on a hill, which became the hot tub on the balcony, which became the kitchen (side note: porn scenes that start in a kitchen always have the best dialogue. That’s not even an opinion), it started to get offensive. What are they trying to prove here? Don’t tell me they’re trying to edit out the nasty stuff; the tattooed guy nailing the chick while her head was in a mailbox didn’t leave much to the fucking imagination (no pun intended). This is like watching a replay of a football game with all the touchdowns edited out. Can you imagine the uproar from the fantasy football community? Well, I wanted to see if the blond chick with the quadruple Hs took one to the face, I have her in my fantasy fuckball league. I feel cheated. So trust me here, friends, get your six-foot Russian fix somewhere other than Bottom Dweller: The Final Voyage.

I’ve never given the group Sigur Ros a chance since their name constantly makes me think of Sugar Ray. Not the former boxing champ but the candy corn band with the dooshbag lead singer who is now a star fucker on Inside Edition.

Hurry! A great deal on portraits of dragons having sex with cars. Click here. (Thanks Monica)

A few thoughts on 71 yr old, Oscar-winning songwriter Joseph Brooks, being charged with sexually assaulting 11 women. The lead paragraph says “indicted on charges of sexually assaulting women whom he would fly in to New York under the impression they were auditioning for movie roles.” I read that and I think, “Hey they got a free flight out of the deal, not a total loss. Maybe they saw a show or got a milkshake at that place in Serendipity.” While we’re on the subject of fucking a 71 yr old man for a free flight, sign me up. As long as he had his Oscar in my peripheral vision.


Thursday, June 18, 2009

Mentally Preparing

I’m going to a wedding this weekend. I’m really excited about it too. I love weddings. Not because of all the lovey dovey ceremonial bullshit. I love them for the food, the booze, the dancing, the chubby bridesmaid crammed into the too tight dress and of course the inevitable mother-in-law or aunt dancing inappropriately. Sound cliché? Take a hike.

I’ve been mentally preparing for this wedding all week. Planning my outfit, my wife’s outfit, who I’m going to see, what I’m going to eat, what I’m going to drink and how I’m going to get home.

Here is what I’ve come up with:

My outfit:
So far, so good. I have a suit being tailored right now. That’s just how I roll. (Please allow me to be a bit “in touch” for a moment.) There is nothing better than a well tailored suit. I’m telling you. Spend less money on the suit and spend more money on the tailoring. You’ll be so happy you did. It makes a $300 suit look like a million bucks. I even researched the best tailor in town. The guy barely spoke English but man did he know his way around an inseam. I pick up my suit tomorrow. Fuck I’m going to look good.

My Wife’s Outfit:
I laid out 5 key objectives for her outfit:

One – something hot

Two – something that shows off her killer ass/legs/chest/back

Three – something ridiculous

Four – something fashion forward so you scare/upset/inspire some people

Five – something that will photograph well. (please see above…cause I’m gonna look supa fly)

Who I’m going to see:
Lots and lots and lots of parents. This is a family friend who is getting married back in my hometown. So I’ll be seeing a ton of my high school friend’s parents. Which means I need to not only parade around my wife like she’s the fucking prom queen but be sure to turn up the charm factor.

(Note to self: a few minutes before we leave for the wedding go back and read this section)

Hey future Magglio -

You look great dude. No seriously. You look really good. Go get ‘em Tiger.


What I’m going to eat:
Sounds like the options are Tri-Tip or Chicken. I actually had to do some digging for this one, it wasn’t a pre-printed option when you RSVP. This is a no-brainer. As lil Joshy once told me, you ALWAYS get the tri-tip at a wedding. He also once told me that if you’re ever in a pinch, applesauce and a well carved green pepper make for a great ‘fantasy date.’ Weirdo.

What I’m going to drink:
This is where I could use some advice. I did some investigating. Here are the options. Beer and Wine (standard). No champagne from what I can tell. And Cosmos. Yes, you read that right. Cosmos. Now, despite the fact that I’ve seen Sex In The City the movie and I choose before peeking at the results of US Weekly’s ‘who wore it best’…I’ve never had a Cosmo. It has Vodka (cool), Triple Sec (ehh?) and Cranberry juice (gay). I’m fucked. I don’t want to drink beer all night, this is a wedding and I’m going to look great. I can’t drink Wine all night or I’ll wind up just farting a bunch and going to sleep early. And I definitely can’t survive on Cosmos. My wife suggested we bring flasks. God I love that woman.

How I’m going to get home:
Walk mother fucker. It’s walking distance to my parent’s house. Now do you understand why I’ve been mentally preparing for this evening for so long?

Now go get ‘em Tiger. You look great.


Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Positve Wednesday A&Ms

by Magglio, Jericho & Caity (yes, Caity)

My little brother just got a job. He starts next week. It’s going to be a pretty big wake up call for him, literally. We were talking and he was saying that he needs to start acting more like an adult meaning he can’t sleep till 1pm, eat cold pizza for weeks on end, go to bed at 4am just for fun. I told him that while fundamentally some of the logistical things need to change he can still be a kid. I know I don’t feel like an adult. Sure, I have a job, a wife and a dog…but I still piss in public and enjoy throwing ice cubes at people when I get drunk.

My thoughts on the No Doubt concert: People shouldn't bring their elementary school aged children to the general admission section of a 90s reunion concert. And if they do, they certainly shouldn't feign shock and disbelief when an individual who may or may not have started drinking Kettle One at noon screams, "Adrian Young, I'll have your abortion!"

By far my favorite part of the NBA Finals was Kobe holding up four fingers (aka four rings) during the trophy presentation even though he’d been talking about the “team” and brushing off questions about his legacy all week. This would be like having two hours of foreplay, really working all the angles, and then right when it’s go time hopping off and heading into the bathroom to pull one off to a 6yr old Club. (The only difference being that at the trophy presentation, aka when you come out of the bathroom, you definitely hold up the whole palm, not just four fingers. “Do you really need the thumb?” our 4 female readers are asking right now. Yes, yes you do. That’s for aiming.)

I like to state the following for the record: docksiders and a pink Lacoste shirt with the collar popped are not appropriate evening wear post-college graduation. When you're playing bocce ball on the front lawn of your frat house, the look has a certain affected "I know that you know that I have a trust fund" look to it, and there was a time in my life when, lacking a trust fund myself, I was interested in acquiring one and appreciated the social indicators. However, this is not the look if you’re 30, holding a bright orange slushy drink called “The Panty Dropper” and at a bar in Midtown Atlanta. You look like an asshole.

You wouldn’t believe how many salespeople pitch an idea to me that in some way or another ends with ‘pizza party’ as the main hook for incentivizing employees. I mean, are we 12 years old? Do people still get all jacked up to succeed if the ultimate goal is a pizza party? What’s next? Electing a public official when he promises McDonald’s for lunch everyday?

Fuck Jonathan Adler. If you need a super overpriced frame, lamp shade, or pillow then go to Jonathan Adler. If you want to look like a complete yuppie doosh bag then buy stuff from Jonathan Adler. If you want to get the train run on you by a bunch of tree-hugging hippy fuckers then shop at Jonathan Adler. Thank you.


Monday, June 15, 2009

Please Hammer, Stop Talking

I can’t be friends with MC Hammer anymore. I just can’t do it. He’s driving me nuts.

Hammer is my friend on Facebook. We did some work together a couple years back so naturally we linked up online. It was fucking cool at first…as you can imagine. I got to comment on his photos, read about his daily happenings and more importantly tell everyone I knew that I am friends with MC Hammer.

But I’ve had enough. Hammer has gone off the deep end. Let me explain.

You know that annoying friend on Facebook who updates her status with the lamest shit possible like “Nicole saw a movie.” There’s no explanation, no thoughts on the subject matter, just a statement. And you know that friend on Facebook who updates his status every time the fucking wind blows like “Ken is making lunch.” Then five minutes later, “Ken is eating lunch.” Then five minutes later “Ken just crapped out his lunch.” And of course you all know that one friend on Facebook who writes things so illegible and ghetto that you have to just gloss over what they say like “Dis dat shit ahm off the hiz hiz, ya heard?” And we are all friends with someone on Facebook that really doesn’t understand the technology but thinks they do. Like your crazy Aunt who writes a personal message to a friend in her status update not realizing everyone can see it like “Maggie, you are a strong person and you can get through this. I’m sure that ointment will clear things right up. You’re my boobie. Love Aunt Susan.”

Well, mix them all together and you have Hammer. Yes. I’m sorry to report that Hammer is a delusional, self-centered, often times repetitive old man with no real idea how it all works. Brutal words from a friend huh? But it takes a real friend to tell the truth.

I debated whether or not to post some of his status updates on here but I just can’t bring myself to do it. They’re a mangled mess of Tweets, Retweets, pretend holiday announcements (Today is DJ Awareness Day and Friday was Woman Appreciation Day, FYI) and links to pictures of his kids. It’s a mess. And I’ve had enough.

So Hammer, if you’re reading this, I appreciated your friendship. I enjoyed our time working together. I especially enjoyed that one time you showed me a live performance you did recently in NYC and then decided to rap along with the video when 2 Legit came along. Let me just say that deep down 12-year-old Magglio was doing the hand movements along with you.

Now don’t get all broken up over this Hammer, you have 2,494 other Facebook friends. Sure, you just lost the most handsome one but at least now you won’t have to keep reading my Matt Cain status updates. 9 and 1 motherfucker!!!!


Thursday, June 11, 2009

It’s kind of like a fat girl at a no-hands pie-eating contest…

Alaska Airlines' new Gate 23 team

When you think about it, in the history of the world, could anyone go down on a bitch like Mr. Miyagi? Sand the floor, paint the fence, wax on, the guy must’ve destroyed pussy! It’d be like a fat girl at a no-hands pie-eating contest, except with a lot more kung fu and philosophical eyebrow raises. That’s why that bitch in Karate Kid 2 hadn’t married anyone and just sat all day in her garden – once you’ve had Miyagi trim your bonsai it’s all over.

New rule: when your plane is delayed by more than an hour, the cunt at the desk with the Whitesnake mullet isn’t allowed to say “and if everyone can quickly stow their bags and take their seats, we’ll be on our way as soon as we can.” This is like a fat girl at a no-hands pie-eating contest standing up after the whistle and telling everyone that if they made better pies she would’ve won. You just had 15 free pies, bitch! Fuck you, Whitesnake fucking cunt!

Here’s my thought on people getting killed during autoerotic asphyxiation and then having the death ruled “accidental” and not “suicide”: if you wear a t-shirt to a party that says “I’m going to fuck the sluttiest bitch I can find and I’m going to get herpes” and then you fuck the sluttiest bitch you can find and get herpes, that’s suicide, friends. Putting a rope around your neck and jerking off is kind of like sneaking up behind a fat girl during a no-hands pie eating contest and seeing if you can stick a finger in her butt – yes, of course it’s fun, but if the rope doesn’t work as it should, you’re fucked.

(Side note: doesn’t Herpes sound like a city the Romans took over in 300 B.C.? I think Caesar captured Germania shortly after he got Herpes, right?)

Let me decode Donald Trump’s statement about firing Miss California for not “fulfilling her duties to the pageant”: she sucks dick the way Comcast provides customer service: you’re looking at the clock the whole time praying for it to be over and when it’s finally done you’re flooded by a desire to bomb India. If you think this is about her gay rights comment you’re fucking retarded. This is about Donald’s little hairy Trumps and the lack of servitude she showed them. This is kind of like backing a fat girl in a no-hands pie-eating contest only to see her get beaten by a 112lb Korean man. Put your heart into the nuts / pies or go the fuck home.

I hate the new Eddie Murphy movie “Imagine That” so much I want to scream. I know I say this every time he queefs out another cunt shit movie, but what the hell happened to this guy? He was the coolest guy on the entire planet from 1983-1988 (Raw, Delirious, Beverly Hills Cop I & II, Coming to America, SNL) and now all he does is pump out generic, mind numbingly stupid kids movies? What the fuck? This is kind of like a fat girl winning 15 no-hands pie-eating contests in a row and then dropping 125 and becoming a spokesperson for CarrotGoosh (it’s the carrot you shove up your Goosh!). Fuck that fat bitch, fuck Eddie Murphy and fuck CarrotGoosh. I'm out.


Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Coming out Sideways...

I realized today that my mood in life is often dictated by the actions of teenagers. And not in like a “was Miley photographed in a two piece or not” sort of way. This morning my email inbox was flooded, my voicemail was flashing, hell even a co-worker rushed in to tell me the news. Nick Montana, son of the legendary Joe Montana, just committed to play his college ball at Washington in 2010. Fuck. Now I’m not one of those hometown humpers who has disillusioned thoughts about what could be. This kid may never pan out. But you look at the teams he passed on; Notre Dame, Ohio State, LSU…and it makes last year’s winless season seem like, well, yesterday.

I’ve never taken a ‘myspace’ photo but I’m seriously considering it. Just for fun. You know the one; A self shot, from above, in a mirror, using my cell phone, wearing only my panties with my elbow barely covering one of my tits. You know what I’m talking about.

Compounded with the fact that I am currently in one of the worst writer’s slumps since 1988 is that I recently introduced my blog to a co-worker of mine. Sweet. “Hey, check it out, I write a blog that’s totally outrageous. Oh, don’t mind the fact that my writing is coming out like a sideways shit these days. You know, the super painful ones? What’s that? No, don’t go talk to HR. Please.”

Last week I watched two episodes of MTV’s True Life that you’d think would’ve been amazing. They were “True Life: I’m a bisexual” and “True Life: I don’t like my large breasts.” But, I’m sad to report, they were super lame. I got about 10 minutes into the bisexual one when I had to “excuse” myself since they just kept showing a 19-year old chick complain about how much she loves sex. What? Shocked? Look, I’m a grown man I can only handle so much. And the large breasts episode? Even worse. Just a bunch of heffers bitching about their gigantic hermans. Suck it up ladies. Eat some more veggies and rock those like you have your own VH1 special.

The final episode of the Real World/Road Rules Challenge is tonight. What does this mean? Well, it means I will be glued to my TV at 10pm PST this evening clutching my Rachel doll tightly and screaming things like “Landon’s dimples CANNOT be real can they?” and “You know I think TJ Lavin has really matured this season” and “How many synapses do you think are firing in Brad’s tiny little brain right now?” Fuck I love this show.


Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Questioning Questions?

Technically speaking, shouldn’t an Octopus be called a Quatropus?

If Jon Voight is going to come out and bash Obama, shouldn’t his role as FDR, probably the most important Democrat of all time, be digitally removed from Pearl Harbor? Or what about the Oscar he won for Coming Home, one of the most anti-Vietnam movies ever made? Or the time he tried to save the world from a giant asteroid in Armageddon? Republicans love asteroids.

Did you hear Tony La Russa is suing Twitter? Here’s the legal brief: This is an outrage! I’m suing. Rescue pets. His name is not Poo Holes:

Can we stop whining about the poor for one second and focus on the person most affected by the digital TV switch? Matlock. Do you realize he’s going to be blocked in all 10 of his top demographics? Do you have any idea what this is going to do to his residuals? 56 of the 57 people who watch his show are going to be sitting in the dark, with no TV, wondering which one of their kids they're having sex with. This is disastrous.

Why doesn’t Hedo Turkoglu have a rabid fan base known as the “Hedonists?”

Did you hear Brett Favre sat on the toilet for over 25 minutes yesterday? Ed Werder and Chris Mortensen are going through his stool right now, trying to figure out how many wins a hard, long turd might equal for the Vikings this year. Chris thinks if they find corn, the Vikings make the Super Bowl. Ed thinks if he can taste BBQ, then he's going to eat the whole thing.

You know how Maggilo always warns against looking at Pau Gasol too closely in HD? Similarly, don’t try to watch Larry King unless you’ve got a wide screen. His forehead is so big that a normal TV will cut him off at the eye line. His head is taller than a fucking redwood.

Can the Penguins stand strong? Do the Mets have enough starting pitching to win the division? Where will Michael Vick end up? Will Imagine That put Eddie Murphy back on track? When did Phil Jackson turn 100? Why would anyone care about the answers to those questions?


Friday, June 5, 2009

Apples and Moustaches and a Runny Nose

My favorite TahoeSanta quote: “I’d be a terrible gay guy. My mouth is too small. Plus, I’m not into dudes.”

I want to clear something up. I don’t spend $100 on my haircut. I never have. Granted, I spend ‘close’ to $100 on my haircut but let’s be honest here. I look good.

Up until tipoff I was saying the Magic could steal this series by grabbing a game in LA and then watching Kobe just quit. I went so far as to predict Magic in 5. This is why my gambling account is at $0 and I’m not allowed to refill it until football season.

I’m comfortable enough in my marriage to admit that I want to dry hump the hell out of Rachel from MTV’s Real World/Road Rules challenge. I don’t care if she’s a lesbian. I’m married! This could work.

Man date tonight. I’m meeting Jericho at a Sushi place. How gay is that? You should see the outfit I put together for tonight. I threw on my white socks with my all blue Chucks. Just kidding. That’s a line from a Snoop Dogg song. I don’t even own Chucks. But I can wear the fuck out of some Mark Nasons.

Watch this trailer right now: If, for some reason, the hair on your arms doesn’t stand straight up, and your nipples don’t get hard, and you don’t sense any sort of movement downstairs then please never read this blog again. Ever. I’m serious.

Two years ago I made a bet with Lil Joshy regarding Matt Cain. (If you’re new to the blog or if you’re a chick then you haven’t noticed that I’ve been sucking off Cain for years.) Joshy said that Cain would never win 18 games in his career. After 8 starts, Cain is currently 6-1. Now what has changed? Nothing. Besides run support. That’s it. Finally the team is scoring when he’s on the hill. Skies the limit this year. He’s a DEFINITE all-star and if this keeps up he should get serious Cy Young consideration. I don’t remember what the bet was. I think if Cain did reach 18 wins then Joshy has to send me topless photos of his wife. Or of himself. I forgot which one we settled on. Stay tuned.

In 3 days from now it will be June 8th, which will officially be 2 years since we started writing this blog. Not sure what we’re going to do to celebrate, but stay tuned. It promises to be the most exciting rose ceremony yet.


Tuesday, June 2, 2009


Magglio (3:31:22 PM) What’d you think of the post?

Jericho (3:31:42 PM): "Final note: Fuck you Jericho. We talked about going to that party for the last 4 years."

Jericho (3:31:44 PM): that's mean

Magglio (3:35:43 PM): did that make you mad?

Jericho (3:35:56 PM): it's a low blow

Jericho (3:36:14 PM): not saying you're wrong

Magglio (3:36:32 PM): want me to erase it?

Jericho (3:36:40 PM): do you?

Magglio (3:37:34 PM): don't back talk

Magglio (3:37:45 PM): do you know where the headline and tags are from?

Jericho (3:39:48 PM): Dr. Suess?

Magglio (3:39:56 PM): Trainspotting

Magglio (3:40:04 PM): remember. when he's sleeping on the couch

Magglio (3:40:09 PM): passed out after nailing that chick

Magglio (3:40:13 PM): she's singing it in the shower

Jericho (3:40:18 PM): ah

Magglio (3:40:19 PM): you can barely hear it

Magglio (3:40:23 PM): then when they have that massive drug trip scene

Magglio (3:40:27 PM): and the baby crawls on the ceiling

Magglio (3:40:33 PM): she's standing in his room singing it

Magglio (3:40:44 PM): Fag - just say it. It’s a fucking awful post. Say it.

Jericho (3:40:58 PM): you know who that chick is?

Jericho (3:41:14 PM): Kelly MacDonald - Josh Brolin's wife in no country

Magglio (3:41:19 PM): oh right

Magglio (3:41:23 PM): hey by the way

Magglio (3:41:27 PM): FUCK JOSH BROLIN

Magglio (3:41:30 PM): just felt like saying that

Magglio (3:41:34 PM): square jaw mother fucker

Jericho (3:41:37 PM): fair

Jericho (3:41:42 PM): my chick loves him

Magglio (3:41:46 PM): sure. he's handsome.

Magglio (3:41:47 PM): but fuck him

Jericho (3:41:54 PM): did you see W?

Magglio (3:41:55 PM): he looks like a fucking bobble head


Do you have green eyes, do you have blue eyes...

I'm working on about 2 hours of sleep.

After 6 weeks living without a place to call home we finally moved into our new place last night. Now, it’s still a fucking zoo filled with boxes and cushion-less couches, and we had to make pillows out of towels last night, but we have a place to call our own. I’m going to spare you all the details. Let’s just say it was a pretty bizarre 6 weeks. Perhaps the craziest thing was how bad I slept last night. As I’m walking home from work, that’s to my NEW home mind you, I spoke with my dad on the phone.

“You’ll sleep so well tonight. You’re finally in your own bed,” he told me. I couldn’t wait. It was long over due.

I tossed and turned. Patch growled whenever he heard an unfamiliar sound. A car would drive by outside and wake me up. I wasn’t accustomed to the amount of light in the room. Or the temperature of the room. And the towel pillow kept making my face itch. It was awful.

But you know what? I was home. Finally. And Patch took such a massive shit this morning that I knew he felt it too.

That’s all I got.

Final note: Fuck you Jericho. We talked about going to that party for the last 4 years.