Thursday, September 30, 2004

Who's the black private dick that's a sex machine to all the chicks?

Ya damn right!

So finally we are getting some beautiful tabloid stuff (New York Daily News) from the Kobe Fiasco:
"Bryant stated he should have done what Shaq does. Bryant stated that Shaq would pay his women not to say anything. He stated Shaq has paid up to a million dollars already for situations like this."

You see this cat Shaq is a bad mother-
But I'm talkin' about Shaq

Now here's the real gem:
"Bryant, 26, also insisted he hadn't thought of a payoff because he treats women much better than his gargantuan teammate."

Cut to quick shot of Kobe devouring a size 13 Nike. The gang at The Smoking Gun have done the dirty work of scouring the transcript of Kobe's interview with the cops (Start reading at the red arrow) - It's a beaut.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

I simply cannot get it out of my head

I've said it before, and I'm gonna say it again - The best commercial on TV is the "Eye of the Tiger" Starbucks Doubleshot Espresso ad...

"Glen's the man, Going to work, Got his tie, Got ambition...

Glen...Glen, Glen, Glen..."

Here's a sure sign...

...your reality show is a humongous dud. The new timelsot for Season 2 of Dream Job - Midnight EST on Tuesdays. I'm pretty sure Ron Popeil gets better timeslots. (Warning, joke for one coming) Set It...and Forget It.

Nothing gets the day going quite like a LARGE coffee and Bon Jovi's "Living on a Prayer". However, it is slightly dampered when the coffee is rung up by a SHim.

DC's getting baseball. Finally. I swear it took NASA less time to get a man on the moon (no, not Andy Kaufman) than it did for Bud and the boys to get Marion Berry's stomping grounds a ballclub. I can't wait to buy my Brad Wilkerson jersey.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

(Bubba) Franks and Beans

Excellent work by the Cubbies last night, especially the hyperactive young man on the mound, SeƱor Zambrano. Anytime "Crazy" Carl Zambrano and Jeff "Dream" Weaver are the foundation of your starting pitching staff, you know the stretch run is going to be tough (that's right, it's all about me, so now you get to read about my NL-only fantasy baseball team). Kudos go to Brian Douglas - Despite my passionate pleadings on draft day we took that douchebag Weaver, and he has pretty much saved our hide in August and September. Who knew?

So, was that former North Carolina two sport "star" Ronald Curry I saw Sunday night in a Raiders uniform? They turned him into a wideout, a wideout with 2 TDs already? Pretty impressive if you ask me.

Michael Jack has informed me Lost is a decent show, so now I guess the race is on to see whether Dr. Vegas gets canned before LAX. Blair Underwood, you disappoint me. Speaking of new TV shows, can I get a little more info from someone on Desperate Housewives. I'm pretty much sold just from the commercials, but I was hoping for that little extra push. Help a couch potato out.

This exchange actually took place

Scene: Sports apparel store in Myrtle Beach, SC

Girl behind counter: So what day is Halloween, the 30th or 31st?
Me: Um, the 31st.
GBC: Really? I thought it was the 30th.
Me: Nope - it's definitely the 31st.
GBC: Oh OK - So is Halloween always a Friday or a Saturday?
Me (starting to look for the hidden camera): Um, no, it's just always the 31st, whatever day of the week that is.
GBC: Oh...OK. I was just trying to schedule my associates.
Me: Yeahhh... (slipping out door)

So in other words, this slice of American genius is some sort of manager at this store, and hasn't mastered the date of Halloween. Brilliant. And yes (I know you were waiting for this part) she was in fact blonde. Go figure huh?

Monday, September 27, 2004

Doing the Bull Dance, Feeling the Flow...

Not to harp (oh who am I kidding), but Denny Green, this Week 2 quote isn't going away anytime soon: "System-wise, and style-wise, this is probably the best offense in the NFL." He was talking about his OWN offense. Sunday's final score - Falcons 6, Cards 3. The Cardinals were sacked 6 times, lost 4 fumbles, and gained 3.8 yards per play. I mean, come on, Denny's making this too easy.

Usually clueless younger brother Corey Simspon caught the Pat Summerall highlight of the night. As Pat was sending it to my girl Suzy Kolber on the sideline, he dropped this gem: "For moron Norv Turner, here's Suzy..." There was no pause between the words "more" and "on", just sloppy enunciation that is the perfect assessment of Norv, unintentional comedy at its best. Good work Pat, and good work Corey Simspon - now get off my couch.

In no particular order, a tip of the cap to:
- Pedro (not the one you think), who runs a splendid operation on the North Carolina/South Carolina border aptly titled "South of the Border". High quality merchandise at very reasonable prices (sorry, I could barely stop laughing long enough to type that). A must stop if driving to/fro Myrtle Beach or points south. And if you think Pedro's multi-colored billboards are overkill, you apparently weren't subjected to the ESPN marketing push for "Hustle".
- AM Radio, for providing completely random entertainment all along the I-95 corridor. Whether it was picking up the Yankees game on AM 630 in South Carolina, or learning from some Jim Baker clone that the devil can be found everywhere in our daily lives, or just listening to Sean Salisbury take an axe to the Kansas City Chiefs, AM Radio kept me sane.
- FM Radio, for making sure it was impossible to miss a single lap of the MBNA America 400. Man, NASCAR is out of control.
- Kevin Brown, for pitching like an absolute donkey, allowing me to still hate him alot. F U Kevin Brown. (Let's pause for a moment. I also would like to berate whoever it was - Torre, Cashman, Big Stein - that decided pitching Brown at Fenway with a barely healed broken hand was a good idea.)
- The guy running for office (councilman, state representative, who cares) in North Carolina who decided his platform, plastered for all to see on a highway billboard, would be "Get the United States out of the United Nations". Now, I'm no political expert, but I'm gonna bet his constituents might have slightly different issues on their minds than the USA's role in the United Nations. For instance, why the Nathan's is closed at the T&A truck stop off Exit 123.
- The New York Mets, for climbing out of their collective graves and showing some sack. Though, as Whitney mentioned, the Cubs losing only increases the likelihood of the Giants in the playoffs, and frankly, I don't want any part of that. That NL Wild card is an absolute crapshoot, but personally I'm looking for the Cubs to win the WC and the Padres to improbably sneak in and win the NL West. Maybe I can get Jeff Brantley on my side.
- Miniature golf, the only kind of golf where I'll ever sniff par. "You're gonna die, clown."

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

Out to Lunch

Not that anyone is missing this drivel, but guess what, you're not gonna get much more than this until Monday. Work is beating me over the head with a shovel, and I am escaping to Myrtle Beach for the weekend (Nascar Cafe here I come). Let's see, the Yanks impressed Saturday and Sunday, and now need to duplicate the feat in a frenzied Fenway. The Red Sox beat the Orioles last night in the 9th and celebrated like they just won the pennant. Ichiro Suzuki just keeps hitting (14 away from the record). Gary Payton may or may not come to Celtics training camp, and I may or may not care. The Jets are 2-0, SportsGuy keeps fellating them, and they have a bye this week. They haven't exactly beaten the '72 Dolphins and '85 Bears in Weeks 1 and 2. Everyone needs to settle down. The Flavor Flav/Brigitte Nielsen relationship is the most disturbing thing I've ever seen on TV. Miss Lippy's car is green. Cat Stevens, er I mean Yusuf Islam, forced a London-to-Washington flight to be diverted to Maine because he's on some Homeland Security watch list. Perhaps Tom Ridge really dislikes "Peace Train". And finally, Denny Green, coach of the 0-2 Arizona Cardinals, had this gem: "System-wise, and style-wise, this is probably the best offense in the NFL." I think it's quite obvious Denny writes his own material.

This was written while jamming out to "Parents Just Don't Understand". I think I gave DJ Jazzy Jeff a dollar and change yesterday afternoon so he could get a 40 oz. at the nearby liquor store with bars on the window.

Sunday, September 19, 2004

Sunday Bliss

Two hours from now I will be immersed in hot sports action: a Yanks/Red Sox rubber match (sponsored by Trojan), a Ryder Cup comeback of epic proportions (F Europe), and wall-to-wall NFL action (yeah, it will be Redskins and Ravens, but what are you gonna do). I should have a lot to say tomorrow. We now return you to your regularly scheduled program (probably Meet The Press, right?)

Friday, September 17, 2004

This is what happens after 3 large coffees on a Friday

I'm not getting sucked in this time around, but I can tell you, seeing the commercial and realizing Stephen A. Smith is a judge on this round of Dream Job is awfully tempting. Perhaps we can get Scott Van Pelt to also judge and do his Stephen A. imitation the entire show - now that is high comedy. In case you were wondering (or caring), the reason I can't watch Dream Job again is that the sound of Mike Hall's voice makes me want to vomit in my mouth.

OK, I'm avoiding Dream Job, but The Donald sucked me back in last night for Season 2 of The Apprentice. I had missed Week 1, but somehow Mr. Trump got me back (OK, maybe it isn't so much The Donald as it is Carolyn - ooh la la - count this as another mark against me with the BH, along with Liz Phair and Suzy Kolber). There are no Omarosas (Stacie J. is getting there) or Sams to be found, but the hypoglycemic guy who wears bow ties entertained me last night.

Speaking of the BH, last night she brings home a magazine called Real Simple. Real Simple magazine is 347 pages long. 347 pages for a magazine called Real Simple. Do I need to let this go?

The PGA Tour stop this week is San Antonio, for the Valero Texas Open. With the entire golfing world focused on the Ryder Cup (F Europe), I fully expect the last group on Sunday to be Roy McAvoy and Shooter McGavin (hell, it's half joke, half reality - would you be more entertained if I said the group would be Ben Crane and Justin Leonard?)

Can I get odds in Vegas on which show gets canned first, Lost or Dr. Vegas? It's a shame too, having to either root against Joey Pants or Charlie Salinger.

Um, apparently the NHL owners are locking out the players, but the question is, has anyone even noticed or cared? If I need my hockey fix, I'm throwing the Charleston Chiefs on.

I don't need to say much about this - it's Prime Time heaven (settle down Deion) this weekend, as the Yanks and Red Sox play both Friday and Sunday night on ESPN (with a Fox afternoon tilt on Saturday). I would like to think whoever takes 2 of 3 is in great shape, but much like the diminutive Red Sox fan who posts here as well, I don't want to jinx anything. Go El Duque. And F U Kevin Brown.

A New Friday Feature

We'll call it the "Gheorghe Student Athlete of the Week" Award. The envelope please. Our first winner hails from Charlottesville, VA. In his game last Saturday against North Carolina, UVA's Marquis Weeks took a kickoff in the end zone and juked and jived 100 yards to the house. Asked about his touchdown return, Marquis replied "That was just instinct. Kind of like running from the cops, I guess you could say." Congratulations Mr. Weeks - an autographed copy of Rob Russell in a leprechaun suit is on the way.

What, Harry Hamlin and Marlon Wayans were unavailable?

So, I'm jamming out to NKOTB's "Hanging Tough" this morning, and I'm reminded that NKOTB-er Jordan Knight is a cast member on the new season of The Surreal Life. The producers really went all out this season - these are D list celebs people. I can't wait for the episode where American Idol reject Ryan Starr is singing Alanis tunes in the shower only to have Dave Coulier pull open the curtain, punch her in the face, and stand over her while delivering this line in his awful Ahnold voice - "You oughta know...better bitch". Or maybe the episode where Uncle Joey calls up the Olson Twins and invites them over "to be changed" just for old times sake. Better yet, I eagerly await the episode where Charo incomprehensibly screams "NO WIRE HANGERS!!!" for 30 straight minutes. Lastly, Flavor Flav, get a watch my man, or you're gonna have some serious neck and back issues.

Yep, natural causes...

"Flamboyant funk musician Rick James had nine drugs in his system when he died suddenly in August, including cocaine, methamphetamine, valium and vicodin, according to a coroner's report Thursday. "

Thursday, September 16, 2004

If it ain't broke...

Dear Tony:

Good luck with your new daytime talk show, The Tony Danza Show. We wish you all the best (muffled laughter).


Wayne Brady, Martin Short, and Queen Latifah

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Dear Keyshawn:

Shut the fuck up.

Yours truly,


Tuesday, September 14, 2004

It's the most wonderful time of the year

Minus the lack of activity in upstate NY, this weekend, as is every kickoff weekend, was fantastic. The Simspon family even managed to flashback to the early 90's with a smorgasbord of pizza and ribs for Sunday's football action (Jets/Bengals, Skins/Bucs, and Gints/Iggles - we can touch on these in a moment). Good times indeed...but before I start sounding like Kevin Arnold, we need to discuss a few things:

As I discussed in my previous post, I didn't have cable this weekend, and that can be rough for a guy like me. I was subjected to 6 channels - NBC, ABC, CBS, PBS, Fox, and the WB (say what?). When the hell did the WB become part of rabbit-ear television? In fact, the WB11 gave me Mets games both days, but alas, the Flushing Nine couldn't get a W for Whit or Jerry (though Wagner's meltdown was highly entertaining - he actually had trouble tossing the Gatorade jug onto the field).

I'd like to toss Chris Rix and Joe Dailey into a lion's cage (no Montecore jokes here please), give them the keys, and see if either could hold onto the keys long enough to escape certain death.

Well, I see a certain NY team is getting some "sleeper" pub from SportsGuy and some guy in SI - thanks to The Wheelhouse gang for pointing that out (Speaking of the fellas over at the Wheelhouse, forget Norman Chad, enjoy their picks and game capsules each week - I'm also pretty sure Norman would be replaced as a poker announcer in a heartbeat by Jerry). Anyway, back to the J-E-T-S, Jets, Jets, Jets...yes, I am a Jets fan (fandom circa 1997). Now, obviously, this requires a bit of explanation, and with 16 weeks to go in the regular season, I will certainly give it to you, my reader(s) - let's just say my manlove for the Tuna blinded me early on. The Jets season started out a bit shaky, as they fumbled the OPENING kickoff, but somehow Curtis Martin climbed out of his grave and ran the Bengals ragged. It was a highly entertaining game, and I was very happy to see the Jets finally lock it down, especially since head coach Herm Edwards has some sort of motto about winning or something.

Let me jump from Herm and the Jets W to the more satisfying W of the weekend - the Irish upsetting Michigan on Saturday. It makes me warm inside to see Michigan lose, especially knowing this Notre Dame team has serious issues (Brady Quinn, what the hell are you doing, do you want me to put you in the cage with Rix and Dailey?). I mean, Ty Willingham loses this game, and it might be all out mutiny in South Bend. As an added bonus, this apparently makes Regis Philbin's year, and that's always important.

Last thing, non-sports related - I am a terrible cell phone talker. I simply don't seem to have the ability to whisper or lower my voice. Nothing is worse than having very old people in wheelchairs at a nursing home giving me dirty looks because I am so loud on the phone. I need some sort of whisper coach - hey, that sounds like the lame type of character Ben Stiller would play on the VMAs. Is he available, or is he too busy filming Mystery Men 2?

Saturday, September 11, 2004

Coming to you from the friendly confines...

...of Latham, NY. You won't hear much from me until Monday, given this internet connection is slower than my Southwest gate agent at BWI. I might be able to send Whitney posts via carrier pigeon in less time than it takes to connect this computer to the world wide web. That's OK, at least there is a computer here, because (drum roll please) there is still no cable in the Simspon household. It's flashback city, and it's painful. Thank god for decent college football on the networks.

Interesting note (only to me) - I'm pretty sure the Albany Airport has 1,000,000 more parking spaces than necessary. I'm just saying they might want to look into that.

Friday, September 10, 2004


Ye Olde Sports Guy predicted a 14-2 regular season for his Patsies, followed by another perfect sweep through the postseason. Like clockwork, except that sometimes when the power goes out or a battery dies, clockwork is altered. I understand that the Pats are champs and a viable threat to repeat -- my only question is why the two losses? Just trying to keep one tippy-toe in the circle of objectivity?

He also picked the Redskins to sit atop the NFC East at 10-6 and make it to the second round of the postseason. You can tell he's a closet Coach Gibbs fan. Nice! And all of the Skins Super Bowl chatter out of DC -- which I've been spewing with at least 90% being tongue-in-cheek (but 10% not?!) -- has subliminally seeped into his brain. I love the Washington Redskins franchise more than I love cheap beer (though why juxtapose them when they're so good together?), but if they win 10 games and a playoff contest this year, I'll tattoo their logo on my groin.

8-8, just miss the playoffs. But with the greatest coach ever to walk an NFL sideline -- Super Bowl, hyperbole, what's the difference? -- on our side, it'll be the most enjoyable 8-8 season I can imagine.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Sports Illustrated chipping in where it can

Good to see the folks at SI putting Curt and the Sox on the cover. I'll take any help I can at this point (this point being Esteban Loaiza AND Brad Halsey pitching today in the heat of a pennant race - not good times).

I planned to leave this topic alone

I know, I work in a new building, I've bitched about it already, but I had to mention this: There are guys outside attempting to hook up large lamp posts, and it is raining pretty steadily. Now I don't know much about water mixing with electricity, but I did see that bomb Powder, and I know things can get a bit dicey. These are pretty large lamp posts, and I'm pretty sure I heard some sizzling as I walked by a very brave, or very dumb, electrician this morning. It's like David Caruso and Shelley Long are the decision makers on this project.

Oh yeah, Kevin Brown is still a tremendous douchebag.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

With all apologies to Huggy Low Down

The Bama of the Week (nee, the Bama of the Year) is Kevin Brown. No explanation needed. What a jackass.

Kevin Brown, you are the Bama of the Week...Week...Week!!!

Friday, September 03, 2004

Unbelievably, this guy is Governor of California

Often, it takes alot to pull me out of the vicious cycle of 30 second channel surfing, and last night was no different. While cruising past James T. Kirk, George W. Bush, and Penn and Teller, I happened upon what I consider Arnold's breakout role - Col. John Matrix in Commando.

Sure, Arnold had blown up the year before in Terminator, and his ability to deliver one line slowly and monosyllabically (did I just make up a word?) would become his modus operandi, but it wasn't until Commando that he put the full package together. The formula - be wronged by bad guy, hunt down bad guy, kill all bad guy's henchmen, eventually kill bad guy in showdown, and deliver perfect one liners along the way (in that absurd accent, still pretty thick in Commando) - is can't miss. There's a reason the guy's insanely rich. The formula works (even hacks like Van Damme and Seagal have had success).

Anyway, a little too much coffee, and I'm rambling off the subject, much like any interview with Johnny Mac on his soon to be canceled cable talk show. Let's break this down:
Sublime casting - I mean, Alyssa Milano as his daughter, and Nick Tortelli as the power hungry deposed dictator of a fictional South American country - How do you beat that?
Great Arnold lines - Kill a guy, drop a one-liner. No one does it like Arnold (Not even all the humps who have played Bond). He even keeps the ball rolling (and defines his career) by getting an "I'll be back" in. The line that left me rolling on the floor laughing last night was his response to the green beret's threat to kick his ass:
"I eat green berets for breakfast. And right now I'm very hungry" (Read that to yourself in your best Ahnald impersonation - it's highlarious)
The bad guy - Possibly the fruitiest bad guy ever in an action flick. This is what kills me the most. Bennett, head bad guy, looks like a chunky Freddy Mercury. He's wearing a sleeveless chainmail vest the entire movie. Yeah, that's right, chainmail. And, AND, he has the porn 'stache to boot. Who the hell would ever let this guy run an evil enterprise?

That's all I got this morning. The long weekend can't come soon enough. Hell, the more I think about it, I would've voted for him too.

Thursday, September 02, 2004

Aloha Mr. Hand

Is it Sweeps week at Gheorghe? An obvious ratings bump has occurred with the cameos of the MLC crew, though with no readership whatsoever, they might as well be preaching to the matinee crowd of Catwoman. Mr. Met still takes umbrage with the Sports Guy, and Mr. Red Sox continues to walk the fine line of openly mocking the demise of the 2004 Yankees while not saying too much and thus contributing to the, shall we say, unluckiness of his favorite franchise over the last 86 years.

Of course I'm worried about the Yankees. Only an idiot (in this case we'll pick on Harold Reynolds) wouldn't be worried about a team who's ace is a 47 year old Cuban. The 2004 race is, amazingly, starting to shake out like the 2003 race.

Hands down, the best commercial on TV is the "Eye of the Tiger" Starbucks Doubleshot Espresso ad - "Glen...Glen, Glen, Glen..."

If we voted based on presidential genes, George W. would win in a landslide. The Kerry daughters actually look a little like Gheorghe Muresan. And Jenna Bush has that naughty look going for her (kinda like my girl Suzy Kolber). The preceding 3 sentences will undoubtedly have me in trouble with the BH - I'm not sure she's gotten over the Liz Phair comment from 2 months ago.

Seeing Rick "Wild Thing Vaughn" Ankiel in the Cardinals bullpen last night, I was racking my brain to think of the best September callups. Well, a real writer for did the work for me: Pitchers, and Hitters (what, no Shane "Last Call" Spencer on the list?).

Thumpthump...Is this thing on?

Not for nothing, but TJ's starting to sound a little worried about his Yankees. Oh, he's trying to cover it with smugger-than-thou intonations about how the Red Sox are always the Red Sox, and all will be well, but his blogvoice is cracking more than a 13 year-old kid who just realized that Lacey Chabert was attending his barmitzvah. Of course the Red Sox are the Red Sox, which is why you won't hear me doing any celebrating any time soon.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Did anybody catch the Sports Guy's article today? Does anyone else think he bungled the analogy in the last line? (We're leaving alone the fact that he's buddies with a lousy has-been pop star and accused child molester.) Check it out:
Then he made an analogy. Back in college, I used to routinely destroy our
roommate Brendan in Tecmo Bowl. For some reason, he always thought he could beat
me, even though I won every game by four or five touchdowns (mainly because he
was dumb enough to let me keep playing Bo and the Raiders). But he kept coming
back for more. And when I unleashed the usual round of post-game trash talk, old
Brendan would come back with things like "Well, I almost had you at third-and-14
that one time!"

"That's what you're like with the Red Sox," JackO told me. "You're like
Brendan bragging that he almost had you at third-and-14, only every season."

"But we're three and a half back right now. You're not even a little

There was a pause on the phone.

"Yeah, I'm a little nervous," he admitted. "But it's still the Red Sox.
And this is still third-and-14."

Maybe so. But it's better than fourth-and-20.

Wouldn't fourth-and-20 be a lot better for him? Wouldn't that mean the Yanks were in deep trouble, needing to punt to the Sox? Shouldn't he have said "second-and-11" or something like that? He just killed the article on the last line! Maybe this isn't Earnest Byner fumbling on the one, or or Joe Pisarcik fumbling on the 26, since there wasn't the gravity of the moment. (If this article were recapping and commenting on, say, a Red Sox World Series title, this would have been the all-time fumble of the . . . online sports lighter-side commentary milieu, I guess.) But it's every bit of Gerald Riggs coughing it up in run-the-clock-out-time and Wes Hopkins running it back to win a regular season game, isn't it?

Or maybe I screwed it up and need to go back to my regular post recapping losses that evoke the tree-falls-in-a-forest query.

You gotta love the New York papers

The Daily News is our winner today, trumping the Post's "Worst Loss Ever!" headline with one word:

Dropping a massive double deuce

Wow, let me get to this right away. The Indians beat the Yankees 22-0 last night, at the Stadium. Tell me there wasn't some poor guy wearing a Vizquel jersey who didn't have 22 ounces of Bud poured on him, while suffering a wave of profanities that would make Richard Pryor blush. The Red Sox now stand 3.5 games out of first, and I know a particular pint-sized supporter who doesn't know how excited to be. I love this - I can't wait for a September wrought with tension and frustration, because I know the Red Sox and those damn AL West teams aren't going anywhere. I could sit here as a Yankee fan and proclaim the sky is falling, because good god, a 22-0 thrashing at home is fucking ridiculous (on that note, I think John Kruk seriously wants to beat up Esteban Loaiza, and honestly, I'd paid more to see that than any heavyweight title fight). I can only hope 22-0 is an aberration, no matter how bad a pitching staff the Yankees have pieced together (and looking at the stats, the Yanks staff is atrocious - the Team ERA is 4.72, and despite the media claiming the Rangers pitching is what will cost them, their team ERA is only 4.50, and they have Chan Homer Park!). A moment of reflection: Last year, on July 27th, the Red Sox beat a certain team 25-8. That team, managed by Hume Cronyn's son, went on to win the World Series. I'm just saying.