Friday, December 02, 2016

The Twelve Days of Gheorghemas: Day One

Well folks, it's that most wonderful time of year again. No, not when we get to listen ad nauseam to such mega holiday hits as "Christmas Shoes" and "Christmas Eve in Washington", rather it is once again time for everyone's favorite faux holiday, Gheorghemas.

Gheorghemas has been around quite a few years now (get an intern on the official count), and it seems that once again Day One will be focused on yours truly, mainly because I am an egomaniac and lazy so by posting on Day One I get the other 11 days off. Gone is the fat guy in a jer-sey, and we're even eschewing Insane in the Posehn this year for something fun but of course still Teej-centric. To that end, I give you...


On the first day of Gheorghemas
Big Gheorghe gave to me
The debut of Mac McFisty


Tuesday, November 29, 2016

I had no idea this existed

It is awesome and horrific all at once. Enjoy.


P.S. I love that we already had a "Bee Gees" label

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Believe the Hype

Back in the halcyon days of G:TB, or at least the days when we gave a shit about college football (as a collective - I know that many of you still do), Mark and I used to make a pretty serious effort to preview the SEC Championship when our teams were involved.

That happened in both 2008 and 2009, and though I'm not one to brag, I think our work speaks for itself. In 2008, as a matter of fact, no less a sporting expert than the late, lamented Jerry said this about our prognosticating prowess:


Florida and Alabama met again for the SEC title last season, two programs in decidedly different places than they were in the late aughts. And they meet again next Saturday, champions of their respective divisions, to decide who holds the belt as the winner of the country's best conference. (Get out of here with that Big Ten nonsense. Two teams worth a shit and Wisconsin, who might have a puncher's chance to win the SEC East.)

That's Leeburg's own
Jonathan Allen
Neither Mark nor I have the time or inclination to repeat our earlier efforts. We're both still a little worn out from the exertion, truth be told. And if we're telling the truth, I haven't followed the Tide nearly as closely this year as I have in years past, a combination of apathy, coaching soccer, and Alabama's entertainment-sapping dominance draining my reservoir of attention. I'm a pretty lousy fan. Alabama doesn't need me, though. They're going to win, and win handily. Let's call it 34-10. Local kid Jonathan Allen's gonna score a defensive touchdown. And Jalen Hurts is only a damn freshman. That doesn't seem very sporting.

In the spirit of nostalgia, and of hoping to catch lightning in a bottle again, I asked Mark for his prediction. Reached on a barstool during the Florida/Florida State game, he offered this, "I reserve the right to change it if Florida continues to suffer a plague of injuries. As of now I'll say 40-13."

Careful observers will note that both of us predicted the same digits. So if there's a way to bet on a score that contains a 0, 1, 3, and 4, I'd advise you to get on it. The past suggests it'll be worth your investment.

Each of the previous three times the Gators and Tide met in the SEC Championship, the winner went on to close out the season as National Champions. Odds are good that Alabama will make it four straight - they're basically a professional organization at this point. Barring a gymnastics meet, or a dance competition, or a really good soccer game on television, I might even watch it.

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Happy Thanksgiving, Alternatively Titled: Ain't No Such Thing As Halfway Cooks

Happy Tgives! Are you stressed out because you have to make a side dish and have no idea where to start? Don't worry, Prodigy from Mobb Deep has you covered! He learned a bunch of cool recipes while in prison, so many that he wrote a cookbook called Commissary Kitchen. Here's how to make a dish using only stuff found at your corner bodega:



Despite Prodigy's assertions to the contrary, all that mayo and salt doesn't look particularly healthy. But who cares, it's Thanksgiving! Indulge.

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

New (Old) Prince. Same Old Awkward

Legend has it that Prince left behind hundreds of unfinished tracks upon his far too early passing a few months ago. Hopefully, that means we can expect scenes like this one to be repeated.

Somehow, ABC News got the hookup to drop the world premiere of 'Moonbeam Levels' recorded originally during the 1999 sessions, but never released. Enjoy it, but dig if you will the reactions of the live Prince fans who had the pleasure and/or torture of listening to it while being filmed.



It's probably safe to ignore the last 18+ minutes of this. But if it's not, maybe let me know.

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Wisdom of the Crowd

Last night at the Second Annual Loudoun Soccer Ball (Soccer Ball, get it?), abetted by copious amounts of alcohol, I spent way too much money on the auction item described in the video below:



Now, to figure out what to do with it. I could have Rog and Davo fete my daughter's soccer team. Or they could record a G:TB theme. Maybe I go selfish, and have them tout me as a generous and remarkable human being. Or do a shoutout to TR's friend who hates them.

I've got options. What Would GTB Do?

Thursday, November 17, 2016

I Laughed (Because I Was Confused)

Forgive me for dredging up something already mentioned in a previous Comments thread, but a day later, I remain completely confused. Here's the scene:

I'm waiting in line to board my plane from Minneapolis home to Dulles, and I hear a garrulous voice from behind me chatting up another line-dweller. The voice, a young man's, has a distinctly New England accent. And because it was loud, I knew that the voice belonged to a fellow who was heading to Rhode Island and claimed to have had five beers in the hour before boarding.

None of this is particularly remarkable. Obnoxious, maybe, but we've all heard that guy in airports before.

As we board the plane, Drunky O'Sullivan's voice stays behind me, and stays loud. At this point, I haven't looked back to catch a visual, because the last thing I want to do is catch his attention and get sucked into his conversational vortex. I find my seat, turn to place my carry-on under my seat, and finally get a view of our guy.

He's exactly what I thought he was. Twenty-something white kid, dark hair just below his collar and underneath a Boston Bruins cap. Zip-up hoodie over a flannel shirt. Fashionable jeans.

And shoes that looked an awful lot like these:


Slightly lower heel, maybe, and thicker straps, but definitely open-toed to show off the dazzling red paint job on his carefully pedicured toes.

I took a picture, because even I didn't believe it. The picture is terrible (my knee looks pretty nice), but it's here anyway. Zoom in:


I'm as baffled right now as I was when I noticed this. And to his credit, my loud, drunk friend never batted an eye, called attention to his feet, or acted like anything was out of the ordinary.

If this is what Trump's America has in store for us, prepare to spend the next four years questioning everything.