No the white phone

Attention Mike Swint: The McRib is back. I repeat, the McRib is back.

Why was Chuck Amato dressed like Starsky last night?

Hey Pierce Brosnan, saw your preview last night, and it looked OK. Unfortunately, I already saw it the first time, when it was called The Thomas Crown Affair (a very good, very underrated movie by the way).
That last barb was written by guest blogger David Spade.

The O.C. now just steals porn scenes? How fast can we rid ourselves of this lawn boy? How quickly can Whitney post a comment ripping the O.C.?

Quick show of hands - Who else liked Mr. Belvedere?

Um, we have the TV on at work right now, and if you haven't seen the absolute mob scene (and I do mean mob) over Arafat's body, find a way to see these pictures. Worst funeral procession ever.

Gee, who do you think has the edge in the Michael Jackson/Eminem war of words?

Bad Idea Jeans

Normally I wear protection, but then I thought, "When am I gonna make it back to Haiti?"...

Yep, you guessed it, expansion has come to Gheorghe. I've added a few links to the right, an eccentric group if ever there was one. Greg, so far, has Duffman saying very little. Whitney apparently doesn't have enough free time at work, so he waxes poetic about bands I've never heard of. Ah yes, and finally, Yoni, welcome aboard. Keep the college hoops coming, and how about an occasional "Billy Packer Sucks" post. That would be super. Hell, what's Chandy's blog? I'll throw her on here as well.

I'm so pissed I could kill someone

I am not a big fan of Blogger deleting very long posts I have just written. Speaking of killing someone...I haven't really touched on this yet because I'm not quite sure where I would put him in my Pantheon of Murderers (Whitney is cringing right now), but has anyone been following the Scott Peterson trial? It's an absolute circus as this point. Lance Ito ran a tighter ship than Judge Alfred Delucchi. If Johnnie Cochran and the Dream Team made you squirm, Peterson's attorney Mark Geragos is going to make you peel your skin off. In the last two days, two jurors have been dismissed, with yesterday's dismissal being the foreman. What a debacle.

I just ran across this too - good lord:
In another strange turn, a 14-foot boat similar to the one owned by Peterson has appeared in a parking lot about two blocks from the courthouse on property that CNN contributor Nancy Grace said is owned by Geragos.
Inside the boat, there are four cement weights, a weight belt and a headless dummy. Signs have been taped to the side of the boat -- one says, "RIP Laci and Conner You Are Missed," while another reads, "Murderer! Murderer!"

Juice, don't look now, but you've got some competition.

I knew I drafted this guy for a reason

Ron Artest is truly a piece of work. As it turns out, his current two game suspension by Coach Rick Carlisle was caused by Artest asking for some time off to rest up...for his rap album publicity tour. Two gems from Ron's press conference:

"Everything that happened wasn't too negative. I kind of surprised the team by wanting to take some games off..."
"They probably expected a little more; expected me to play every game. Everybody's different."

Now, I will give him that the NBA regular season is a huge joke, but still, come on buddy. How can you not expect people to jump on you for this? I guess the bigger question is whether Fu-Schnickens (yep, I looked up the spelling on that) gets any run on this album?

Welcome to the O.C., Bitch

This is how it's done in Orange County...
COSTA MESA, Calif. (AP) -- Seven-time NBA rebounding champion Dennis Rodman signed a contract with the Orange County Crush of the American Basketball Association on Wednesday.

I mean, does this sound appealing to anyone?

The cafeteria at work sells something called Aunt Flo's Country Fudge. Everytime I am at the register I don't know whether to laugh or vomit.

Jerry already took this one, but did anyone see the highlights of that Nets/Blazers shoot-out last night? Good god, what a debacle. The SportsCenter anchors were contractually obligated to mention that this game "set basketball back 50 years".

Right now I think I am leaning towards Tendercrisp over Spicy Tendercrisp in an 8th Round TKO.

Why do people say they're confused by the plot of "Mission: Impossible"? Is there something complex in there I completely missed? Does Coach Kilmer throw them off? Maybe it's because the last time they saw Kittridge he was deleting files from Jack Ryan's PC?

The 2004-2005 Men's College Basketball Season kicks off tomorrow night, and I couldn't be more excited. Three top 25 teams are in action, including the 6th-ranked Syracuse Orangemen (I refuse to call them the Orange) playing hated rival Northern Colorado. Should be epic. The Orangemen return Hakim Warrick, Gerry McNamara, Billy Edelin (he had an odd year last year), huge white stiff Craig Forth (finishing up the Jess Settles 8-year plan), and Wheelhouse fav Louie "Looks like I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue" McCroskey, plus some others I've forgotten here. Cuse is one of about 12 teams with a chance to be cutting down the nets in St. Louis. Someone get Dickie V a sedative.

For my money, no one does a better Larry King impression than Larry King himself at 2:15am on Election Night. I thought Wolf Blitzer was going to hit him with a steel chair. (Yeah, this joke is a week old, but get over it)

Puff puff, give. Puff puff, give...

...You're fuckin' up the rotation - To Quincy Carter, who is about 2 weeks away from completely fuckin' up the Jets playoff chances. And no, I'm not bitter at all about that loss to the Bills.

Now that is a refreshing beverage...

SEATTLE--Nov. 8, 2004--Jones Soda Co. announces today its limited edition holiday pack of five new seasonal flavors which includes: Green Bean Casserole Soda, Mashed Potato & Butter Soda, Fruitcake Soda, Cranberry Soda and Turkey & Gravy Soda.

I'm pretty sure the Turkey & Gravy Soda will ensure the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny Fucking Kaye.

Wally, George O'Leary is on the phone for you

Wally Backman was manager of the Arizona Diamondbacks for less than a week.
The Arizona Republic reported on its Web site Friday that Backman, who got the job on Monday, had been fired.

Boy, that Jeff Moorad is sure running a smooth operation out West. And to think, they've now missed out on hiring Charlie Manuel. What a shame.

Can I help you Officer?

LONG BEACH, California (Ticker) - Olden Polynice, a 17-year NBA veteran who was waived last February by the Los Angeles Clippers, was named player-coach of the Long Beach Jam of the American Basketball Association on Friday.

By the way, I'm pretty sure this post is only funny to me. It wouldn't be the first.

Bring him home Sandy, Bring him home...

Poor Whitney's head is going to explode, as I am sure there will be much to read about the O.C. today. I will leave the analysis to the internet's resident TV addict, Michael Jack, over on Hot Action (or, if he continues to be lazy, the boys at the Wheelhouse). Needless to say, the O.C. is back, and I am happily along for the ride. Whit, it'll be my pleasure to discuss the plot intricacies with you over a few Coors Light. I hear the Silver Bullet is "The Coldest Tasting Beer in the World."

In other Thursday night news, I'm really sick of watching these boring Louisville games. How about a little something for the effort fellas?

T.O., Baby!

Terrell Owens played the double murder card on Ray Lewis yesterday in the wake of the Ravens' linebackers complaints about Owens' Lewis-mocking end zone dance on Sunday. To which I say, about goddamn time. The NFL's glorification of Lewis annoys me to no end, with their celebration of his faux-warrior mentality and his over the top dogs-in-the-house, look-at-me-I'm-colorful persona. Let's be very clear here: Ray Lewis was - at the very least - involved in a senseless double murder. Maybe he didn't actually shove the knife into the victims, but he was there, and he knew who killed them, and he covered it up...until he rolled over to protect himself. Like a little bitch. Good for you, T.O.

This Is Me

I've found my new milieu: the Comments field. Once inspired to spew out focused essays with some semblance of a point (MLC just garnered its 500th post in the World Series), I'm now relegated to misguided cameo appearances on other people's vehicles, firing dim-witted, pseudo-clever attempts at humor which miss more than hit. Now looking my age, what was funny because of its faux-snobbery is now sadly smarmy. Ladies and gentleman, in the blog world . . . I am Chevy Chase.

This is why I don't do introspection. I'm better off thinking I'm the funniest, most brilliant addition to any site. Which, of course, I am.

Taking the bait

MLC co-founder and GTB contributor Whitney seemed sad and disappointed in today's Monday Musings. I'll bite. Real Simple subscriber Jennifer Wilson (otherwise known as the BH) will be dropping some dough on Martha Stewart's Wedding magazine in the next 12 months, as I asked her to marry me last Thursday evening. She kindly accepted. For the sake of my bank account, I hope we plan a wedding proportional to the amount of people who read this drivel. Now back to your regularly scheduled nonsense.

Monday Musings

These are in no particular order, and in fact, they might not even be funny or interesting, but oh well:

*I might hate T.O., but I got a big laugh out of the faux Ray Lewis dance. Now I just wonder if Ray will kill him. Seriously. I'm not kidding.

*Is Pedro Martinez gay, or at least leaning that way? I mean, what the hell was that dance he was doing with a cape on? A cape? I know he's "eccentric", but cape dances are just a tad fruity to me.

*I found Hell on Earth, and it's the Best Buy on Route 1. Worst Place Ever. Trained animals could run a tighter ship.

*Special thanks to my co-worker Chris for letting me steal his costume idea Saturday night. Roy Horn has never looked better, or bloodier (Hmm, if Pedro's gay for wearing a cape, am I gay for dressing like Roy Horn?)

*I guess there's a theme developing here, because it's almost college hoops time, and I am really looking forward to the Rudy Gay Era at UConn.

*OK, I can't help myself. If Ty Law is going to miss any time, he will be replaced in the lineup by Randall Gay. I heard he's great at tight man-to-man coverage.

God damn it

My college football pick em is pummeling me right now. 1-5 to start the day, with two more losses on the way. Stupid Northwestern - Now I'll have to listen to a giddy Wilbon all week.

Well, if I thought the college picks were bad, oh man did I fuck up the pro picks. I am the worst gambler ever. Seriously.

Worst Wednesday Ever

I still don't really know why the DC Greys wanted to beat us up last night. I am not sure if it's possible to feel worse at work. It hurts to type.

For the Annals

The Hawks, Arlington Men's League Softball: Soooooo not Gheorghe.

Wait, so you're telling me...

a younger sibling of a famous and talented celebrity is really a no-talent hack? I don't believe you. Next you're going to tell me the Red Sox committed 8 errors in the first two games of the World Series and won both games (rather easily).

"Teen songbird Ashlee Simpson had a microphone malfunction on "Saturday Night Live" last night, scurrying off stage when a production glitch caught her lip-synching the wrong tune."

Speaking of no talent, nice to see Jimmy Fallon getting great seats for the game, and then having Tom Hanks think he was Jude Law. I'm sure Jude vomited in his mouth when he saw that (then again, Jude Law doesn't strike me as much of a sports fan, so forget that).

I Knew It!

Sports Guy just admitted: "I don't know anything about the Cardinals. I didn't even know there WAS a National league until about 20 minutes ago."

I've always contended that he's a Red Sox fan, not a baseball fan, and I guess he's freely admitting it. Dammit, dude, spend less time watching trashy/reality TV and more time watching non-Sox baseball. Or college football. Or rugby. (Did I successfully slip that last one in?)

I don't know why I feel the need to tear this guy down all the time. Maybe because I'm jealous of his job. (Maybe???) He's really pretty good most of the time. I occasionally give him a pass for little errors [not recognizing that Billy Squire (sic) is from Boston and that's why Fox played the tune], but I have a bigger issue that he willingly dismisses entire major sports while embracing entities like the NBA. But that's his prerogative; it just means that we'd have less to talk about in a bar. He was in his wheelhouse during the ALCS; today's chat may be the first chink in the armor (no Gheghis Khan jokes, TJ) as he reverts to Boston Sports Guy with little Cardinal knowledge of which to boast. Like Rob Russell in college, if you'll pardon that one.

Beating TeeJay to the Punch

It seems that Nugget phenom Carmelo Anthony has gotten busted with some pot in his backpack at the airport. In an explanation you saw cruising down main street, it wasn't his. Of course not. It was his friend's. Naturally. His friend borrowed the backpack and left it in there. Oh, how unfortunate.

The "it's not mine, my friend left it in there" excuse is a classic, sidling up alongside such gems as "My dog ate my homework," "I was just kidding," "She didn't mean anything," "I didn't know we were dating exclusively," "It was a contact high," "I never inhaled," "Somebody slipped me a mickey," "I didn't know she was your sister," "I was just borrowing it," "I was going to pay for it," "I didn't know she was a prostitute," "I had a tuna sandwich for lunch," "I read it for the articles," "It's patchouli," "I'm just tired," "I couldn't pass these tests even if I were sober," "The bitch set me up," "I was entrapped by the DC police," "The DC police planted those drugs in my car," "[every sentence Marion Barry's ever uttered]," and "I got those staples in my head from hitting an awning rail, definitely not from getting caught giving a guy some road head and ramming my head into the bottom of the steering wheel."

Soon to be trite expression: So that's what makes Anthony so 'melo!

Using the whole fist, Doc?

Mooooooon river...It definitely felt like Mr. Babar's visit to Alan Stanwyk's doctor for 9 innings last night. First off, Congratulations to the 2004 Boston Red Sox, American League Champions. I can only imagine GTB creator Rob Russell's state of mind today. The greatest comeback in postseason history. They came out for Game 7 and they knew they were going to win damn it. Lowe even said that after the game. Unreal - ALL these guys seem to have balls the size of Saturn. A tip of the cap to all of them, from Frozen Caveman Yankee Killer to Papi to Keith "Anyone got Dr. Jobe's phone number" Foulke to Schilling to Lowe to Francona. Left for dead, those guys absolutely took it to their most hated rivals. As a Yankee fan, they crushed me last night. I was a fucking vegetable for 9 innings.

Now, I am not about to let this Yankees team off the hook. I mean, has there ever been a bigger egg laid in a Game 7, a Game 7 at home in front of 55,000 raucous fans? This was a fucking disaster of the highest order, a MONUMENTAL collapse:
Starting pitching, disaster (Kevin Brown, I've been saying it for 6 weeks, and you proved it last night - You are a huge fucking douchebag. Hey Vazquez, I wouldn't be giggling in the background pal. These two guys are the Anti-Schilling, hell they're the Anti-Lowe)
Bullpen, bad times (When Benny the Cab Driver from Total Recall is your only lefty in the bullpen, that isn't a good sign. I can't even discuss this whole Mariano Rivera thing right now,and apparently he couldn't either, basically running from reporters last night)
Hitting, uh what's hitting (Games 4-7 versions)? (Credit Schilling and Lowe and that bullpen, but aren't Sheffield and Rodriguez supposed to be veteran hitters who can fight off good pitchers? Well it didn't look that way. A-Rod looked downright confused last night)
Clutch hitting, went to get a latte? (See rant above)
Taking just a few pitches, what are you nuts? (I mean, I know Miguel Cairo needs to take pitches, because he's Miguel Cairo, but even Jeter took some last night to try to get something going - Would it have killed them?)

Derek Lowe did of course pitch very well last night, but the Yankees certainly aided him in becoming a very rich man this offseason. I think the only time I smiled last night was when I realized Jim Leyritz was being outfitted by Macho Man Randy Savage. George is getting very upset. If people thought a $200 million payroll was bad, oh man, is next year's spending spree gonna be ugly. Can the Astros win tonight and give Red Sox Nation the dream matchup in Fenway they so desire? Have I set the record for most parentheses in a post? Has anyone in Boston slept yet?

So it's all come down to this

I don't have the energy or skill to type very much right now, but since I have zero ability to focus at work today, I'll come back later and try (but surely fail) to discuss another nail biter in the 2004 ALCS. I am so exhausted as a fan, it's unfathomable. I feel like I'm being hazed. Games 1-3 were the false sense of security, Games 4-6 have been the real deal, and I'm now so disoriented I have no idea what to expect for Game 7. I've been joking for a few days about this, but Game 7 is truly going to kill me. If you stop by the wake, try to say a few nice things about me.

I like reading things written as a list, let me see if I can gather my thoughts enough to make a list (and these are gonna come sporadically, as my brain is functioning on a Chris Griffin level):

(1) For once, I have absolutely no problem with the collective sports media getting on their knees and sucking Curt Schilling’s D. That was an otherworldly performance, probably the gutsiest pitching performance I’ve ever seen. For weeks I’ve been saying Schilling ain’t the beloved sweetheart everyone makes him out to be, but hell, after last night, it doesn’t matter if he kicks babies or kills cats in his free time. He was awesome. Curt Schilling = New England sports legend.

(2) I'm struggling, reaching for straws. I don't even feel like making fun of McCarver, or pondering how surreal it was to see police in riot gear on the field in the late innings. Let's just all agree to skip the rest of the day and prepare for Game 7. It's gonna be a doozy.

(3) Less than 6 hours to first pitch. I'm sure Kevin Brown and Derek Lowe are pretty calm right now.

(4) 4 hours to go. This work day has been extremely looooooooooooooong.

(5) Well that was the worst list ever. Go Yankees.

Good God, This Is Outta Hand

I mean, this is ridiculous right? I'm not exaggerating here, am I? I'm not even speaking of the result (I'll let the professionals handle that) - I'm simply speaking of the game I witnessed last night. That was EXHAUSTING. I'm pretty sure that game lasted longer than Yakoff Smirnov's career. That has got to be the most intense ballgame I have ever seen. Every pitch, every at bat, for what seemed like 12 hours, was make or break. Kudos to both bullpens, especially donkeys like Heredia and Quantrill, who I was sure were gonna give that away on every pitch. How can these two teams be expected to play again tonight without physically collapsing on the field by the 6th? Hey, I'm not gonna rip Loaiza, that's the best (BY FAR) he's pitched since being on the Yankees. Perhaps next time the Yankees shouldn't leave 18 guys on base. As I said on this site just the other day, David Ortiz scares the shit out of me every time he's up. The man is a beast, and he's approaching Bird/Orr territory if he keeps up the heroics (or not, I'm sure SportsGuy will have 1,700 words to discuss this today).

I really enjoy my Angries softball, but I just rented a Navajo from the new Smithsonian to perform a raindance in my office.

Game 6 might really put me in the hospital.

Did I Type in the Wrong URL?

I . . . uh . . . well, I . . . I can't . . .

I'm sorry. I'm still digesting TJ Simspon's detailed, rave review of a Barry Manilow concert. By the way, TJ failed to mention that "I Write the Songs" was penned by Beach Boy Mike Love about Brian Wilson. Moist with irony.

Sleep deprivation...

courtesy of the ALCS. I'm so tired I can barely type, but even if I could, I don't know what to make of last night's Red Sox win. Is it the start of the most amazing comeback in baseball history, or was it just another tease for a tortured fan base? Is Rivera's blown save a bad sign of things to come, or just the motivating factor he needs to shut down the Sox tonight (power of positive thinking)? Does Pedro throw an absolute gem in what could be his final start in Boston, or does he get so juiced prior to gametime that his arm falls off in the 4th? So many questions, so few answers (except that Kevin Brown is indeed a huge douchebag), and so little sleep. Based on how this thing has gone so far, Game 5 will probably end after the Monday Night Football game (despite the 5pm start).

Oh yeah, Carlos Beltran is very good.

You ask me if I have a God complex...

Let me tell you something: I am God.

Physics Professor Goes on Rage in Class

Wed Oct 13,11:12 PM ET

LAFAYETTE, La. - A University of Louisiana at Lafayette physics professor was banned from the campus Wednesday and taken to the coroner's office for evaluation after threatening his class, university officials said.

Student Kacie Spears said professor Louis Houston lost control right after class began Wednesday morning and was yelling obscenities.

"Then he told us if we got out of our seats he's gonna kill us. He went on the black board and wrote "911 now", so we were really in fear for our lives," Spears told KATC-TV.

Spears said Houston slapped a student and then told his class he was God.

He writes the songs that make the whole world sing

Oh, Mandy, You came and you gave without taking (or as Homer Simpson would sing, Oh, Margie, You came and you gave me a turkey)...

That's right, last night, MCI Center, the one, the only, Barry Manilow, his "One Last Time" tour. Where do I start...
Heading for Section 425 (yeah I know, big spender) an Usheress (not a word) stopped us and swapped our tix for seats in Section 118. Sweet - I'm not sure if it's possible for my BetterHalf to be any happier, and we haven't even sat down yet.

Picked up two beers (I almost felt obliged to get the white wine) and what seemed to be a day old pretzel, spent $427 dollars, then felt better when I saw the price tag on some Manilow merchandise. Good god, I'm pretty sure the sweatshirt/poster combination cost more than my college tuition.

Quick rundown of the Section 118 roster:
Backwards Hat Lacrosse Kid, with his Mom - This was stunning to me, but we'll get back to him in a second.
Five Flailing Females in the Front Row - Elaine danced better than them.
Scott Van Pelt lookalike with his Crazy Wife - Her level of enthusiasm made the BH look like she was in a coma.
A mixed bag of ages, races, sexes - Apparently, Manilow brings the world together.

The man of the hour hits the stage to a TREMENDOUS ovation. The last time the MCI Center exploded like that, the Mystics were shattering the WNBA single season attendance record.

I'll give it to Barry, he really knows how to work the crowd. I was gonna start this post by joking that Manilow present day looks like Clay Aiken 30 years from now, but Barry did the bit himself. I'll give this to him - he's not afraid to laugh at himself. He beat me to the elevator music/easy listening crack as well. Then he lets on that he started his career doing commercial jingles, two of which we all know - State Farm (Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there...) and Band-Aid (I am stuck on Band-Aid, 'cause Band-Aids stuck on me...). I mean, is this guy a powerhouse or what?

Quick aside: You would've thought this was a WWE event with the amount of signs being held up. Best sign of the night - "Manilow Makes Me Moist" (OK, so I made that one up, but come on, how good is that alliteration?)

Solid hour of tunes from Barry, then a quick intermission. The second hour of Manilow was even better (yep, I was sucked in), however it was initially trumped by Backwards Hat Kid. Inexplicably, he gets up, mumbles something to Mom, and moves two rows down, laying serious game on the youngest of the Flailing Females. I mean, wow. This was impressive. Curt Schilling might group him with Brandon Arroyo as having "balls the size of Saturn". I do believe it led to some making out in the Uecker seats later on during "Copacabana".

Very solid second hour (gave us back-to-back-to-back smash hits), good encore, well worth the money. Hey Barry, where can I sign up for this Maniloonies fan club, or is it the Fanilow fan club?

You know what, I'm wondering if Mike Swint found his way to the MCI Center last night. If so, did I miss anything?

I've been alive forever, and I wrote the very first song
I put the words and the melodies together
I am music and I write the songs

I write the songs that make the whole world sing
I write the songs of love and special things
I write the songs that make the young girls cry
I write the songs, I write the songs

A little bit from Game 2

Well, we go from a 10-7 slugfest nailbiter (for the last 3 innings at least) to a 3-1 pitcher's duel nailbiter in the span of 24 hours. Pedro looked very good last night - a lot of movement on the fastball and some of those backdoor breaking balls were filthy. However, the hero of the night has to be Jon "Fat" Lieber. Just a great performance, keeping the Red Sox offense muted for 7 innings (just 3 hits). Also, a tip of the batting helmet to Jon Olerud, who hit the huge home run off Pedro, allowing me to both praise him and tell the terrific Olerud/Ricky Henderson story. Olerud and Henderson played together on the Blue Jays and Mets. When Ricky joined the Mariners in 2000 (Olerud was there by now), he asked Olerud why he wore a helmet in the field. Olerud explained that he had a head injury in college and that if he got hit in the head again, it could kill him. Ricky's classic response was, "Oh, I had a teammate on the Mets who wore a helmet just like that." I would've paid a lot of money to see the look on Olerud's face at that exact moment.

Some serious pressure on Brandon Arroyo tomorrow night. Hey, Kevin Brown, try not to be a huge douchebag. Oh yeah, the NLCS - boy is that Cardinals lineup impressive. I think that about covers it.

Breakfast with Yao Ming

Nice waking up to Yao on the tube. As a bonus, Yao was served with a big bowl of hyperbole from your favorite and mine, Bill Walton. Just seconds after saying that there are no superlatives to describe Yao playing at home, Walton ripped off three extremely long sentences of superlatives and hyperbole. It was tremendous.

I'll get to Game 2 (and even a dash of NLCS Game 1 - Was that a Kiko Calero sighting?) later this morning. I need more coffee.

Hidden gems in last week's Sports Illustrated

After reading last week's SI from cover-to-cover on Satan Air (see post below), I thought my reader(s) might enjoy these quotes (NFL defensive backs sure are a funny lot):

Baltimore Ravens cornerback Gary Baxter, on Washington, DC - "The funniest thing about D.C. is when I see the nation's Capitol. When you're growing up, you see it on money, and then when you see it in person, it kind of trips you out." I couldn't have said it better myself Gary.

Oakland Raiders cornerback Ray Buchanan, on his favorite off-day activity - "I love bowling. I average, like, 180. On Tuesdays during the season I get my brothers and go roll." Word of advice Ray, when you're out at the lanes, don't fuck with the Jesus.

What a way to start...

By Game 4, I will have gnawed my fingernails all the way to the bone and had a heart attack (the heart attack will most likely be non-baseball related, as my diet and exercise regimen leave something to be desired). Thanks to Air Panama (or Big Stein's private jet) for getting Mr. Rivera to the ballpark in time to prevent the greatest comeback in LCS history (in case you missed the graphic flashed multiple times, 75 years ago last night the Philadelphia A's came back from 8 down, or something like that). Tim McCarver seems to be a big fan of Red Sox starter Brandon Arroyo, who happens to go by the name Bronson Arroyo, but who's keeping track really. SportsGuy made an error in his column the other day - Trot Nixon and Hideki Matsui do not cancel each other out (especially with Nixon coming off another injury). Offensively, the leather-faced Matsui continues to provide run-producing hit after run-producing hit (and not just last night). Now, he has some adventures in the outfield (it was a tough ball, but he should've made that catch last night), but he's good enough to have played CF alot of last year while Bernie Williams tried to climb out of his deep, wet grave. Ah, Bernie, literally on his last legs, came through huge again last night. I remember when he was viewed as the third best member of the Albany-Colonie Yankees outfield, behind Gerald Williams and Hensley "Bam Bam" Meulens. Game 2 in less than 10 hours, and I've already lost all focus at work (not a surprise there really).

Is Jimy Williams busy?

Boy are the Phillies gonna suck again:
The Phillies will interview Don Baylor today, Charlie Manuel tomorrow and Grady Little on Thursday. -- Philadelphia Inquirer

Game On Wayne...Game On Garth

It's less than 12 hours away. I don't think I can make it through this long miserable work day. This is gonna be fantastic (or horrific, I'll get back to you tomorrow).

In totally unrelated news, perhaps Opie and Anthony have morphed "Sex for Sam" into "Sex for Santa Anna"?
SAN ANTONIO -- Tourists at the Alamo saw something besides historical exhibits at the shrine of Texas independence. A couple who witnesses say were having sex Sunday at the downtown mission landed in jail, according to police.
An Alamo security officer caught the two having sexual intercourse near a public viewing area about 5:30 p.m., a police report stated.

Not that you care, but come on, Ken Caminiti's death from a "heart attack" is about as accurate as Rick James' death from "natural causes."

OK, Superman is dead, and I've been debating how to go about this. Who knew that hairy beast Robin Williams would provide the answer - "Williams was one of the few who could joke about Reeves tragic injuries in public. 'Bid 5,000 dollars and see him move his leg!' Williams once said at a fundraising event in 2002 for Reeve's foundation for the paralysed."
Well, if uber-comic Robin Williams can do it, why can't a no-talent hack like myself? (And yes, I do indeed have my ticket to Hell already purchased, and I fully expect to be struck by lightning, or a bus, or both, on my way out of work today)
Q: What's black and sits on top of the stairs?
A: Christopher Reeve after a fire.
I will go await God's wrath.

Moose, who's butt did you kiss to get in here anyway?

Now that was a fantastic W tonight. Bring on the "band of idiots". Mini-Rob, I hope to see you over on Gheorghe this week (I know, height jokes are played out, but hell, it's gonna happen).

Stop, Lima Time... Every time you see me, The Lima's just so hype, I'm dope on the mound and I'm magic on the mic...

OK, so I meant to write this last week, but once again Marshall Mathers has a huge hit on his hand. Let's ignore huge Eminem fan Corey Simspon's dislike for the track and recognize that "Just Lose It" will again be a smash. I mean, seriously, this guy samples Pee Wee Herman's laugh as his hook, and it's gonna be a bonafide smash. Extremely impressive.

Finally, Happy Birthday today to my BetterHalf. I mean, you would think dating me is a gift onto itself, but just in case, we'll be SuperSizing it tonight. Seacrest out.

Putana Da Seatbeltz

Wow, I will never make fun of Southwest Airlines again after the high quality service American Airlines just provided. That is one happy, efficient, and functional crew you've put together American (I apologize if the sarcasm is leaking onto your keyboard). Next time, just kick me in the groin and jam my head in the toilet before take off - the flight would be 100 times better.

Is it OK if I shoot the guy from work in the face who started three sentences (THREE) in a row with "At the end of the day..."? You know what buddy, I'm thinking today I'm just gonna work "inside the box", if that's OK with you - just me, inside the box, not feeling real adventurous, not going anywhere (This is a small glimpse into what I actually think about when I'm supposed to be listening to people talk. I mean, I would've listened, if he hadn't sucked so much).

Juan Pierre apparently played every inning of every game this year. And for what? All he really wanted was a fifteen cent sip of soda and just one rib.

Currently Yankees 8, Twins 1 through 8. Kevin Brown is taking baby steps away from Douchebag of the Year.

Well, I wouldn't exactly say I've been missing it, Bob

If someone brought their dog to work, you would think that person insane, yes? A dog, at your place of work. And we're not talking about Ray Charles here people, sight is not an issue. I say bringing your dog to work is absolutely ridiculous, however not all disagree. Discuss.

Milton Bradley apparently called a reporter "Uncle Tom" in the clubhouse the other day. Which begs the question, when did Ahmad Rashad become a beat writer for the Dodgers?

Jamal Lewis would not be serving time for facilitating a drug deal if he had my Sprint PCS phone. That call would've been dropped 4 or 5 times. Osama Bin Laden gets better service in his cave.

So this is what commercials are for...

VH1's "And You Don't Stop: 30 Years Of Hip Hop" - A very entertaining documentary that's been on every night this week. Someone tell Ice T his role on "Law and Order: SVU" makes it a bit hard to take his talk of "straight pimping" seriously (I did however enjoy his work back in the day in "Ricochet").

"Repo Men: Stealing for a Living" - I can't even figure out what channel this show is on, but if you flip by it, stop. Let's just say most people are nonplussed to have repo men appear in their doorway. Hilarity ensues.

First rate crap - Queen Latifah is being profiled on "60 Minutes" this week. No truth to the rumor that Ed Bradley will strangle her with piano wire for her role in "Taxi".

"Roy's the man, Going to work, Got attacked, By a tiger...

Roy...Roy, Roy, Roy..."

The good kind of exhaustion

Having to wake up at 5:30am for work doesn't usually lend itself to late night television viewing, but when it's playoff baseball time the gloves are off. Mariano Rivera managed to blow only his third postseason save ever, dragging the game out well past the 4 hour mark, and Tanyon Sturtz (worst name ever?) gets saved from a Bronx lynching by Alex Rodriguez. Ron Gardenhire stuck with Nathan a batter too long (even Joe Corcoran doesn't throw eight balls in a row...oh wait...). I was impressed with Rodriguez last night, clutch when they needed it. Time for the Yanks to steal one in the dome, and than let's see what happens against Johan in a Game 5. I can barely function today, so go read Jerry's handywork over at the Wheelhouse (especially if you hate the Yankees, as most do). (EDITOR: This sentence should be revised to read, "...if you hate the Yankees, as all people with souls do." That is all. Please carry on.)

Since when do I have an editor? Aren't editors for real writers? Is this diminutive "editor" gonna pay me for writing this nonsense? And how the hell did this "editor" get the text stuck on italics?

Oh yeah, one last thing, I realize the guy is a Hall of Fame second baseman, but Joe Morgan is ABSOLUTELY KILLING ME. By inning 4 I just wanted to pummel him over the head with that worn copy of "The Big Book of Baseball Cliches" he kept using. Terrible.

A moment of silence please

for the death of a comedic legend. Rodney Dangerfield, best known as millionaire developer Al Czervik, died Tuesday at the age of 82. Rodney, you will be sorely missed (well, not really, because Comedy Central is determined to show Back to School more times than Joe Dirt).

"Oh, this is the worst-looking hat I ever saw. What, when you buy a hat like this I bet you get a free bowl of soup, huh? Oh, it looks good on you though."

Morning Latte, with Tom Wilkins and Cass Van Rye

Excellent work by the Angries last night, a doubleheader sweep of some excitable old men and a creepy goggle-wearing pitcher. A tip of the cap to Team MVP Swint, who took one for the team and got me home, in time to watch the 8th and 9th innings of Game 1 no less. So the Yanks lose another Game 1 (8 of the last 11 if you trust the Fox stat guys) - not a huge deal really with Santana being the best pitcher in the AL this year. Superb defensive effort by the Twinkies last night - 5 double plays (Bernie Williams, Rally Killer). That many double plays and you expect to be listening to Cerphe spin records on Classic Rock 94.7's "Two for Tuesdays". Jon Lieber vs. Brad Radke tonight, time for the bats to awaken from their slumber - perhaps Sheff has a little of that BALCO hand lotion left.

Time for some Fall Ball

And I don't just mean exciting Angries action (first pitch 8:30 at lovely "Don't Call Me" Shirley Park). Good to see Odalis Perez and Jarrod Washburn bring their F- - games. Mike Mussina, let's show a little life out there tonight.

Oh no, even The Blue Oyster?

I didn't see this one coming:

Leaders of the District's homosexual community say they will use their political clout to save a homosexual nightclub mecca that is likely to be razed to make room for a Major League Baseball stadium in Southeast.
"The most gay commercial strip in D.C. is going to be wiped out, and [Mr. Williams] doesn't say anything about that. It's like a fly swatter coming down and — boom — we are gone."

Did they just quote Agador Spartacus?

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

SHAQ!
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-
SHUT YOUR MOUTH!
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.

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.

(Bubba) Franks and Beans

Excellent work by the Cubbies last night, especially the hyperactive young man on the mound, Señor 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?

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."

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 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?)

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. "

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).

Sincerely,

Wayne Brady, Martin Short, and Queen Latifah

Dear Keyshawn:

Shut the fuck up.

Yours truly,

Everyone

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?

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.

SGNFLBS

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.

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.

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!!!

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.

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 espn.com 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.

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
nervous?"

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:
"Stinkees!"

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.

Sunday afternoon hardball

Questionable baseball leads to questionable posting:

Mets - Yikes, walking corpse Robin Ventura hit Grand Slam (I prefer the Moons Over My Hammy) #17? Whitney cannot be happy about this. Or perhaps he has stopped watching baseball all together.

Orioles - They ended a 12 game losing streak, mainly thanks to Eric Young graduating from the Roger Cedeno school of baserunning (with honors).

Astros - Wait, did Whitney see Dan Wheeler's debut against the Cubs yesterday? As per baseball tradition, Mr. Wheeler plunked Derek Lee in the 9th after Carlos Beltran got kneecapped and Lance Berkman decapitated in the 8th. Right now, Whitney is sending 44 magazine subscriptions to the Wheeler household. Speaking of the Cubs, what the hell is up with that bullpen?

And last but not least, how excited do you think Rob Russell is right now?

The Dream (Team) is over

We lost by 8. Perhaps we capture Bronze, perhaps we don't. I will now let Stephen A. Smith tell me how I feel.

Going Manu a Manu with Argentina

I can't get enough of Team USA - it's like Mike Swint with the McRib. We're down 2 with 3 minutes left in the first half. Suck it up boys. A special shout-out (hyphen or no hyphen?) to Ford Fairlane for the above title.

Just so you're not surprised, your 2005 CFL MVP (does it have some goofy other name?) - Mike Williams.

I just wanna wish you good luck, we're all counting on you

Well will you look at that - Marbury had 31 today (he was 6 of 9 from three point land) in Team USA's defeat of Spain. Apparently the reverse jinx employed by the MLC crew has reared it's ugly head here too. I like it. Now if I can only get Tony Kornheiser's dumbass boyfriend Larry Brown to play LeBron 25 minutes a game we can get somewhere. Oh yeah, and if it worked on Steph, let me try something - Richard Jefferson, you're terrible, and Luke Walton doesn't want to be your friend anymore.

Get me Hamm on five, hold the Mayo

Apparently the FIG (the ass-backwards acronym for International Gymnastics Federation) wants to award a co-gold medal to a South Korean gymnast who was somehow screwed out of one tenth of a point or some shit. US gymnast Paul Hamm won the gold, and says his beef is not with the South Korean, but with FAG, er I mean FIG. How about this fellas - who gives a shit! It's gymnastics. Oooh, I hope I don't offend all the housewives reading this blog who are glued to the set watching gymnastics as if a naked Antonio Sabato Jr. were dancing in their living room. I'm gonna have to agree with Wilbon on this one - it ain't a real sport if it has judges determining the outcome. Especially if those judges can review and change scoring (and thus results) days after the event occurred. Move on people. [Editor's note: This whole meaningless post was an excuse to use that classic line from Airplane as my title. Mission accomplished.]

An original thought for once

The USA hoops team has been analyzed and overanalyzed more times in the last month than the upcoming election. Kerry/Bush? Who cares when we can publicly vilify Starbury and Co. (actually, I enjoy killing that guy, but that's not the point). Professional writers, unlike this hack, have seemingly attacked the story from every conceivable angle. In my humble opinion I believe they've missed one. Now forgive me if someone has written this, but despite popular belief, I do not read every sports article ever posted on the internet. I think we have this team all wrong. I contend that when this US team wins the gold medal in a week, we will have seen the 2nd best Olympic hoops team ever, second only to the original Dream Team. Readers of this blog (still a question mark) are sure to ask if I'm smoking Ricky's stash, but bear with me for a second. All we hear about is how awful our team is and how improved every other country's team is (save poor Angola - the Barkley hangover still seems to be in effect). Well, if that's really the case, than this team will be beating the best competition the rest of the world can provide. The 2004 incarnation of the Dream Team will be beating the world's best teams ever (and if you're thinking he seems to be forgetting those Russian superteams of years gone by, you're right, I am, deal with it). For that we should stand up and cheer them (except Starbury of course), not scream obscenities at them like Skip Bayless in his free time. Now let's just hope Larry Brown and my new favorite hoops team read this and get fired up. Otherwise, I'll just have to delete this post Friday (just kidding, kinda). I wonder where Ricky keeps his chips, I'm starving all of a sudden...

One last building note

My office phone apparently has 25 different ring tones. Why am I telling you this? Because one of those ring tones sounds exactly like the ominous background music from the 1981 cult classic Escape from New York. I fully expect Snake Plissken and The Duke of New York to appear in my doorway at anytime. Do you realize Adrienne Barbeau AND Ernest Borgnine were in that movie? Blows my mind.

Which is tougher to read - a Joe Morgan column or a Rob Dibble column?

Do gymnasts dream of being jockeys, or is it the other way around?

If you can't take the heat...

...than get the hell out of my office, because we're at 87 and climbing folks. The elderly have already been advised to stay inside and watch more Matlock reruns. Another fun building note - nothing is more disconcerting than watching 3 guys in front of your office leaning over blueprints and looking more clueless than Mikey, Mouth, and Chunk ciphering One Eyed Willy's treasure map.

If you build it, they will come

So, whether this is what you (and by you I mean the 1 or 2 people who actually read this nonsense) want to read or not, this is what you're getting for right now. We've moved offices, just down the street from the old digs, and it's a brand new building, damn nice, and I will be getting a new computer and perhaps even a new flat screen monitor, but I can't help mention a few lovely quirks of our new abode. We are the first office to move into this building, and let me tell you, the 31st and 32nd floors of the Nakatomi Towers might have been more finished. To get into the building, I need to push two chain links fences apart and squeeze through like the chubby friend you sent into the old man's backyard to get your only baseball back when you were 10. I've found one elevator that works, usually completely loaded with office furniture and movers who look like they're one parole violation away from returning to Sing Sing. Yes, I know what you're thinking - take the stairs you lazy shit. Ah, no chance people, but thanks for the advice. Walking through the staircases fills your lungs with more fumes than Ricky Williams watching the cartoon network (I know, couldn't I have come up with a better Ricky weed reference - No, I'm lazy). My office looks like a 5 star Homeless Hilton (there's a Nicky or Paris joke there somewhere), boxes just piled everywhere, mainly because our bookshelves never found their way 150 feet down the street from the old office. I do want to thank the new building for helping me lose weight though - yesterday, about noon, the heat came on. Think about that one for a sec. August in DC, cluttered office, and the heat comes on. The heat, people. By 2pm I felt like Marlon Brando at your local Golden Corral (insert any buffet you would like). Overall, love the new digs, but it's past noon and my thermostat is again rising faster than Chris Berman's cholesterol level (I think all posts now require a shot at ESPN - thanks to Whitney for joining the fight).

These Guys Could Screw Up a Peanut Butter Sandwich

Like my more frequently contributing friend Mr. Simspon, I am targeting ESPN a bit too much these days, but I'd like to register another gripe. Last night while flipping around for an alternative to Cubs/Brewers and A's/O's, I saw that ESPN was airing the 25 best sports commercials over the past 25 years. Sounded intriguing. The intro showed bits of a slew of great ones from the Mean Joe Coke ad to Miller Lite spots of the late 70's to the in-house SportsCenter commercial where Charley Steiner hollers "Follow me to freedom!" How could they possibly mess this up?

They did. 25 30-second spots means 13.5 minutes of re-running the ads plus half an hour of commentary and 20 minutes of their own sponsors, right? Yeah, except for the re-running the ads. Instead of showing the series of TV spots in their original form, they hacked them up montage-style and aired bits and pieces interspersed with comments from athletes, sports personalities, and comedians. None of them appeared in its original form. Some of them did not appear at all, presumably due to licensing issues. A few of the cuts eradicated the best part. Example: I'm not the hugest fan of the Bud ad where the Clydesdales play football, but it was interesting enough. The funny part was the end -- the two cowboys watching, one of whom asks if they always do that and the other says that no, they usually go for two. Not shown.

They further mangled the show with a bit of MTV flair, introducing each entry with a guy in a tux shouting out what year the ad was released with a banner to match, and having a breathy, faceless young lady call out the number, followed by a graphic of a famous jersey with that number. The quick cuts and time-wasting fluff fall right in line with the metamorphosis of this network, more in a long line of "if you'd just show the content straight through, we might actually enjoy it."

I don't know if they weren't permitted to show the ads in their entirety, maybe not. I know for the ones they didn't air at all, maybe they should have just dropped them from the list. Bo Jackson talking about Terry Tate, office linebacker, is no substitute for actually seeing the piece. And if they weren't licensed to air the hacked-up ones in their original length, then this was a futile effort that should have been nuked in the drawing room. If they chose to muddle it up on their own, however, I don't even know what to say.

Fenway Park Madness

I've been away for a few days (what, you haven't missed me?) at a buddy's wedding in Westport, MA, and slipping back into work mode (especially when the office you left on Wednesday is no longer the office, or building for that matter, you came to on Monday) has proved rather difficult (as has the urge to reduce my use of parentheses). The weekend began with one of the better baseball games I've seen live, a 1:05 first pitch at sunny Fenway. Pedro was absolutely dominant, and the buzz/energy in the stands was fantastic. Comedy relief was provided by third base coach Dale "Don't Call Me Wendell" Sveum, who on consecutive plays had baserunners thrown out by miles at the plate. Didn't matter to Pedro though (sidebar - what the hell was Pedro doing the other night dry humping that red bat?) - Senor Martinez continued to treat the Devil Rays like an extra on Oz. The standing ovation throughout the entire 9th inning was an excellent start to the weekend. The brutal traffic outside Fenway was not.

California dreaming on such a winter's day

I know I said I was done talking about Old School SportsCenter, but did you see Gayle Gardner last night? I mean, it looks like she ate Mama Cass AND Kirstie Alley. Wooooooooooooooow.

Follow Me...Follow Me to Freedom

OK, it's been two nights, and I've had enough of SportsCenter Old School. It was good to see Kilby again (for about 30 minutes), and the Charley Steiner highlights are indeed hilarious (though Bob Ley is about as fun to watch as a Sleepers marathon), but I'm all set Mark Shapiro. No more please. Oh what's that, we still have the killer Gayle Gardner/Greg Gumbel super-alliteration anchor team to come. Sweet, can't wait. I'd rather watch re-runs of Stump the Schwab. In fact, I think that is what I watched last night. Yikes.

Rick Fox is apparently going to divorce Vanessa Williams. He must've caught Eraser for the hundredth time on TNT last night.

Thank god the football season (college and pro) is starting soon, because if I have to hear one more argument about Edgar Martinez's Hall of Fame credentials I am gonna kill myself (no cheering from the peanut gallery please). Harold Reynolds (career batting average: .258) almost had a stroke last night on Baseball Tonight.

Speaking of Harold, it's Little League World Series time again - When does the statute of limitations run out on Danny Almonte jokes? Oh, it has...NASA jokes? Amy Fischer jokes? Damn it, I had some good Joey Buttafuocco stuff.

I'm really enjoying the Whit/SportsGuy feud (though it currently seems to be one-sided). I can't wait to pick a fight with Ric Bucher.

Oh this is classic - Steinbrenner is apparently pissed at Torre for playing Lofton (aka King CrackBaby) in rightfield last night. Luckily, George has Danny Tartabull, Jesse Barfield, and Kenneth Senior on speed dial.

All we are is dust in the wind...

So the week ends sadly with the news of music legend Rick James' death. Of natural causes. Think about that one for a second. Rick James and natural causes. You think the coroner had a good time with that one? Goodbye Mr. James, you will be sorely missed (especially by Dave Chappelle).

"She's a super freak, super freak, she's super freaky, yeow..."

Looks like I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue

Ricky Williams "pot"shot? Quincy Carter joke? Lamar Odom's "other" drug? Nope - You remember Sanford Mr. Sketch Scented Markers? I was cleaning my office and stumbled upon one of these things. Instant flashback to 4th grade - the Red, aka Wild Cherry, markers were like crack to us, in fact my class had it's own Pookie - Justin Kross. This kid decides to sniff the hell out of one of these things, goes bonkers, kicks over my desk, and all hell breaks loose. Why do you care? You don't, but let me tell you, I was a very pissed off 4th grader when I discovered my Garbage Pail Kids were bent. You don't just find a Corroded Carl everyday. And yes, I am currently sniffing a Mr. Sketch Blue/Blueberry marker.

Point of parliamentary procedure...Other jobs Isiah Thomas seems perfectly qualified for: Captain of the Titanic, Judge at the OJ trial, NBA coach (oh wait). I wouldn't let Zeke valet park my car (haha, right, I know, I don't have a car - rub it in people).

On a completely unrelated note, apparently E! named it's "Ultimate Hollywood Blonde" last night, and Pamela Anderson was the winner by a synthetic boob. I only know this because my Better Half was quite upset Reese Witherspoon wasn't the selection. If I was an exec at E!, I would check my mail very carefully for the next few weeks. The BH doesn't like when her shows throw her for a loop (I hide in a bomb shelter during Bachelor rose ceremonies).

Anyone else getting a Serge/Axel Foley vibe from Jeff Garcia and Kellen Winslow Jr.? I'm picturing Garcia in the locker room offering Winslow an espresso with a lemon twist.

I'm not making this up - at 8:24 this morning, as I was throwing on my Batman Underoos, Comedy Central was showing L.A. Story. The damn signpost was talking to Steve Martin. I immediately took a shot of Draino.

Channeling Larry King (again)

"Hello Dallas, you're on"...Gee, I am absolutely shocked and dismayed that a Dallas Cowboy was cut for drug-related reasons. I don't even have a joke here. The real joke is Vinny Testaverde starting for Dallas at age 40. Trust me people, the last time Vinny started, in 1999, he blew his Achilles out faster than I left the theater during L.A. Story (yeah, talking billboards along an L.A. freeway are a great plot vehicle). Get ready for the Tony Romo "Cop" era in Big D (forgive me, I have Chris Berman on the brain, as he completely ruined a fantastic baseball game for me last night - I haven't settled down enough to discuss this).

"Bristol, what do you have"...So ESPN is going to do Classic SportsCenter starting this week. What kills me is I want to like this idea. I really do. Craig Kilborn was an absolute fav of mine, and chumps like John Anderson and Steve Berthiaume (yes, I actually looked up his name so I had the spelling right) should be sending significant portions of their paycheck to him for stealing his schtick. Kilborn was Vince Vaughn in Swingers - always own, always dominating the screen, always making you want more. These days, all Mike Hall makes me want to do is kick myself in the balls.

"From across the pond, Cologne, Germany"...This may seem like I'm jumping on the bandwagon, but I took some shots at Team USA before a certain espn.com columnist wrote a much better article expressing much of what the international basketball community knows - this team is awful. Beating Team Dirk yesterday on a ridiculous 30 footer by AI does nothing to change that. I haven't seen a team this ready to fold since the pre-Hansons Charleston Chiefs.

And finally, I'm sure the question on all readers' minds (yes, there are no readers I know, I write this and than my "reader" Tyler Durden tells me it was fantastic) is why so many parentheses (sp?)? Hell, I don't know, would you prefer dashes and semicolons? Or Bartolo Colons? (Ouch, that was awful, I know, sorry)

Practice? We talkin' about practice, man

Ah yes, the immortal wisdom of one Mr. Allen Iverson. I don't want to say he's a bad choice as co-captain of the US Olympic hoops team, but...

...the US men just lost by 17 to the Italians. Yeah, it was an exhibition, but I mean, fellas, it was the Italian hoop team. If we had lost in a "Sweaty men uncomfortably stare and grope women" contest, then I would understand. (Please send all hate mail to growingupgotti@aol.com)

This is what I write about

With such a profound and asinine statement, you might expect in-depth political analysis, stock tips (oh how little you know me), or at the very least some insight into baseball's trading deadline deals. Alas, I can offer nothing in that regard. All I've got is this: Hell has frozen over - Last night produced an absurd Pauly Shore double feature (thank you Showtime and WGN), Son in Law and Bio-Dome (the Bladwin's must be so proud). Look at Pauly's historic resume, and tell me he doesn't have multiple photos of Hollywood higher-ups. Whitney and Rob can give you good grammar, full sentences, and a coherent read - I can give you the real star of Encino Man. There's a reason why the New York Times isn't knocking at my door.

Highway to the Danger Zone

Kudos to Whitney for making my writing look even worse. On a positive note, Kenny Loggins is starting my weekend just right. Let's hope my PC speakers don't blow when they hit red line overload.

While I'm At It

Might as well squeeze another thought in as long as I'm here.

I was reading another bad Page 2 article, this time about the Kris Benson deal, and the writer asked if perhaps the Twins were dealing for the wrong Benson. The link went to his wife's site, a la T.J., but of course I was thinking it'd be Benson. You know, Benson DuBois, from Benson the TV show! No such luck, though Anna is nicer to look at.

What was it about Benson, a show that was on for seven seasons, that killed off any future careers for its participants? Oh, sure, Clayton got a gig as a Star Trek weirdo, but that doesn't really count. The governor was never seen again. The little girl vanished from TV, though at least she didn't go the eating disorder route like her Growing Pains sister. The German lady disappeared, though I guess you can see why. Even the guy Pete and his wife, who played Frenchy in Grease -- gone. (Although I think her role in Grease 2 precluded her from A-list appearances ever again.) And what of Benson himself? He's had nothing roles here and there, but you'd think after being BENSON he'd roll into roles. Ah, perhaps he was typecast as the typical black butler-turned-gubernatorial-staffer-turned-Lieutenant-Governor. Same old story.

Oh, there was one guy who walked away from Benson early on and made a little name for himself some time later. That Jerry Seinfeld guy. Did all right, so I hear.

And really, other than recalling its characters and a vague memory of wasting too much time as a youth watching this show, the only thing that comes back to me when I think of Benson isn't even from the show. It's a line from that Richard Lewis / Jamie Lee Curtis show in the late 80's. Jamie Lee has just exaggerated that something was a "miracle":

Richard Lewis: "A miracle? Really? A miracle? It was a miracle when Moses parted the Red Sea. It was a miracle when Jonah survived the whale. It was a miracle that Benson was on the air for seven seasons!"

And lo, it was a mighty miracle. Here endeth the lesson.

A Quick Guestie

Prompted by T.J.'s last post:
What do these films have in common?  I'll give it away: they're on Anna Benson's list of favorite films.  See if you detect the trend.

A Clockwork Orange
A stunning, striking, nihilistic vision of ultra-violence and the equally malevolent forces which attempt to curb it, starring Malcolm McDowell.  A masterpiece by Stanley Kubrick.

Scarface
An action-filled, brilliantly acted epic re-interpreting the dark 1930's Chicago mob scene into the seedy 1980's Miami cocaine underworld, featuring a vintage Al Pacino performance as the flawed but enthralling title character.  A brutal classic from Brian De Palma.

The Godfather
THE film about the Mafia, expertly written, directed, cast, and acted.  Regarded as one of the greatest films of all time, an inside look at mob life -- portrayed both as one of loyal, dignified, familial virtue, and corrupt, violent, stoic doom.  Francis Ford Coppola's timeless masterpiece.

The Goonies
Some kids run around trying to find buried treasure and save their town.  The fat kid Chunk is funny.  Rudy is in it, and one of the Coreys.  And John Matuszak is a deformed idiot.  And all that talk about "One-Eyed Willie" makes me laugh like Beavis & Butt-Head.

I liked Dazed and Confused too (alot)

Ricky Williams, what the hell are you thinking? I can only assume that sometime down the road the wacky tabaccky is going to lose some of it's entertainment value (or customs agents are going to make it less fun on your travels). Somehow I don't think Cheech Marin is too psyched these days to be wake and baking with Don Johnson in the IHOP parking lot.

Kris Benson is a pitcher for the Pirates. Kris Benson is about to be traded, perhaps to the NY Mets. Kris Benson is not important right now. His wife Anna is. She is hot, she has a website, and the hacks at Page 6 are getting Xmas early if this happens. Don't believe me - click here.

The Phillies are 3-22 against the Marlins in their last 25 matchups. I haven't seen a relationship that ugly since last season's Oz.

Everybody's Working for the Weekend

Loverboy just happens to be our house band. My weekend starts now, four days of sand and suds, and if the brain still works when I get back, I'm sure there will be lots to talk about. For pure comedy, if you have not seen last night's Manny Ramirez dive to intercept a relay throw in center field, make sure you do. It will make your weekend. And it sure seemed to make John Kruk happy.

Hey, don't you like sports?

Not to completely rip off the guys I am already ripping off, but I too enjoy some good baseball, and last night offered up some comedic gems. Given my previous posts look like an awful Larry King column, I will instead subject you to a huge paragraph with no continuity (like much of my work product). Carlos Zambrano is highly entertaining, though at some point, I think his head might explode like that escapee in the beginning of The Running Man (Killian, here's your Subzero, now plain zero). I'll let the Mets fan chime in on this later, but what the hell are the Baltimore Orioles doing? My only guess is "Who is Karim" Garcia was brought in as extra muscle in case the relocation meetings are moved to the bullpen (OK, so they all can't be funny). Has it occurred to anyone else that Rich Aurilia could be Exhibit A in any steroid case? The Mariners could've gotten more production out of Christopher Reeve this season. And let me end with this thought - As a Yankee fan (you were bound to find out sooner or later), I think it is really nice that they have given Ahmad Abdul Rahim a second chance in CF (Yes, Hi, joke for one please. Maybe in the back corner, away from the kitchen. Thanks). Perhaps, however, he and 800 year old Hideki Matsui could try a little harder to catch flyballs against the Devil Rays. If not, at least throw the Agilar brothers out there and see what they can do.

Moons Over My Hammy

How to cure a hangover? Be lucky enough to tune into the greatest 90210 episode ever. No, not the "Squash It" episode, the even more epic "Donna Martin Graduates" episode. 4 advil and a distraught Tori Spelling will do it all the time.

So who OK's a project like Patrick Swayze's "She's Like The Wind"? I think it went like this - Hey, he's in the movie, he seems to be able to dance, why not let him churn out a Top 40 pop hit? Who are the ad wizards that came up with that one?

Don't let anyone tell you otherwise - Billy Ocean's greatest work was "When The Going Gets Tough".

Can the Sports Media Resist This Temptation? Part Deux

How soon until we see this headline, or some variant: "Win a Date with Todd Hamilton"?

Taking this blog for a spin

I have myriad thoughts running through my head, and as mentioned below, I'm not terribly creative, so it will be in a SG ramblings format.
 
Who knew Liz Phair was someone I would like to bed?
 
Why is Michael Ian Black on every ADD-inspired VH1 highlight show?  And should he and Joel Stein simply fight to the death?
 
Kobe and Shaq.  I'm gonna need another post for these two clowns.  Needless to say, Gheorge wouldn't be proud.
 
Yes is back on tour.  Terrific. 
 
If anyone out there ever stumbles across a medical report linking coffee to an early death, don't forward it to me.
 
Wheat Thins or Triscuits?

Keeping Up With The Jones'

Yeah, I didn't create this blog (good work Rob Russell), but damn it I'm gonna use it. If Mark Cuban can jump on the blog bandwagon (the blogagon?), then why the hell can't I. Three posts below actually belong to me. I'm simply spinning those sweep week cameos into the stealing of this blog. Some day the creator might look over here, but I don't sense that will be until late October. Until then, I'm squatting. I will aim to stay true to Rob's vision of Gheorghe-ness in the world, and I will make no excuses for blatantly stealing the styles of every other writer I read (mostly SG and the MLC crew). Shakespeare I ain't.

Worst Blogging Ever

This is 1899 Cleveland Spiders bad. Allen Iverson shows better dedication to his craft than us.

TeeJay!

Nice start to the new year, and a wakeup call to my slack, er, ass.

Kobe as Carlton from the Fresh Prince is inspired. Inspired, I tell you. And I was right with you all the way on the rest of it, right up until you went upside Joe Gibbs' head. Joe Gibbs is above reproach, above witty banter, above all questioning, doubting, or any pontificating by football outsiders like us. Joe Gibbs is the Football Messiah, sent from Charlotte to deliver his children from 12 years in the wilderness, chasing false idols like the Fun 'n Gun, or Heath Shuler. And Joe Gibbs is pumped at the prospect of strapping on the pads and gettin' after it. He was positively giddy in his intro presser, and he laughed like a dainty little girl - which filled me with a glee borne of visions of Riggo 2004 sucking the will out of the Cowboy, Eagle, and Giant defensive fronts in the 4th quarters of games not yet even imagined. I have not been anywhere close to this happy as a Redskins fan since 1992.

And it's got to be Licensed to Ill.

Welcome to an Action-Packed 2004

(Channeling Kornheiser, Wilbon, Woody Paige, Mariotti, Bob Ryan)

1. Nebraska needed a coach to sign even more than Christina Aguilera needs an AIDS check. I think Jeffrey Dahmer, if interviewed this week, would've been hired. That being said, perhaps Callahan has a little pros-to-college Pete Carroll in him, but Bill, don't go 9-3 too much or you'll be on your ass with some mad cows in the fields

2. LeBron needs to stop being compared to Michael Jordan. James is Magic Johnson, and he will be better than Magic Johnson. For god sakes, the kid is 19 years old and he's already exceeded ridiculous expectations. Plus, I don't think LeBron would ever gamble enough to get his dad whacked.

3. Last year, it was Jon Gruden. This year, it's Tony Dungy. I won't get all John Clayton on you, because my body weight is not really 95% NFL stats like Clayton, but I am feeling Indy. And boy will it be fun to make fun of Philly fans and Andy "Cheesesteak" Reid for 2 weeks leading up to the Super Bowl.

4. Kobe had sex with a crazy girl. Guess what, who hasn't. Unfortunately, unlike drunken frat guys too stoned to know how crazy the sorority chick grinding them to the tune of RumpShaker is, Kobe or Kobe's people should do a MUCH better screening job. And it is this that might get him busted. I do think it's funny now that Kobe has done a 180 and gets tats and tries to be hard, when he is really just a much better basketball playing version of Carlton from Fresh Prince.

5. I do not want to hear about Stephon Marbury, Pete Rose, or Joe Gibbs for very long time. In fact, I don't give a shit what inbred LA boy Britney Spears banged on Ecstasy and then married. Christ, why can't I just get a high profile athlete to commit a murder or be accused or domestic violence like the good ole days.

6. Better old school album - Beastie Boys "Licensed to Ill" or Tribe Called Quest's "The Low End Theory"