America's Worst

Apologies in advance for the lack of material this week on G:TB. We're spending the entire time celebrating Dennis' birthday. And frankly, our output is mediocre on a good day.

We will leave you with a thought regarding the firing of Nationals manager Manny Acta, upon which we'll expand at some later date (shortly after the conclusion of the Cauc Hop): in the National and the Redskins, the Washington D.C. area is home to two of the worst-run franchises in major professional sports. You could make an argument regarding the Wizards, too, though they've got lots of competition in the NBA.

Acta was destined to be fired - his team simply was not performing at an acceptable level, and they were making mistakes that junior varsity athletes don't make. Last night, Tyler Clippard balked in a run when he tripped while attempting to complete an intentional walk. That's legendarily bad. But Nats' "management" tied Acta's hands from the beginning with a poorly conceived roster and an epically tone-deaf and incompetent organizational structure. The Nats rotation at the moment consists of four rookies and second-year man Jon Lannan - and they're the bright spots on the pitching staff. The stadium staff blows up fireworks before games are over, ran out of beer during the one game I attended, and broke Elton John's piano last night.

I blame Tyler Clippard.

Mange Moi, Randy Newman

Though appearances may indicate otherwise, G:TB's readership is among the more diverse and worldly of any in the genre (the genre, in this case, being niche blogs devoted to facial-hair growing contests, basketball, filler, and self-deprecation). Today we serve that diversity and answer a reader request with a very special Bite Me, Randy Newman.

28 year-old Frenchman Samuel Dumoulin sits in 85th place in the 2009 Tour de France, having climbed steadily through the pack after a dismal time trial in the Tour's first stage. You'd be hard-pressed to see the diminutive Dumoulin in the peloton, though, as he stands a mere 1.59m (like 5'2.5" or so, if my metric to American calculator can be trusted).

Like my father always told me, dynamite comes in small packages (picture below offered with amused irony). Dumoulin's victory in the third stage of the 2008 Tour testifies to Pop's wisdom. As does my incendiary temper.

Dumoulin's most noted for his sprinting acumen, counted on by his Cofidis team to steal a victory or two in 2009. He's also G:TB's new favorite cyclist. Viva le Dumoulin.

I love seeing a headline like this

"El Nino conditions return to affect weather"

because obviously I get to embed this piece of comedic genius:

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart

Half of Team G:TB will be at Wolf Trap this evening catching Wilco and Conor Oberst. The other half will at least appreciate the chorus of the song in the following clip: 'Playing KISS covers/beautiful and stoned'.

Remember When Adam Sandler Used to be Funny?

(Sorta not safe for work for most folks)

In honor of the summer and pool season, enjoy this filler from the early 1990's, a time when Adam Sandler was still an up and comer.

Hi. Today's the big day. Jermaine, hit it...

Enough is enough! I have had it with these motherf'ing cows on this motherf'ing highway!

Some more fun with 9-1-1 calls...

JUNEAU - Emergency dispatchers have a tough job. And there's no better example of that than the call from a woman who is furious that deputies won't help her with her cows. When Tammy Nuttelman called 911, she was told her escaped cows weren't an emergency. That's when she called again.

NUTTELMAN: "I got seven ****ing cows out, maybe going to the ***king highway! And you need to let everybody know that there are loose cows out there! They'll probably cause a major ****ing accident, you hear me?"

As tempers rise, the dispatcher stays cool.

DISPATCHER: "Why are you yelling at me?"

NUTTELMAN: "Because I tried to call before and you guys said it wasn't a ****ing emergency, and this is!"

Friday Nuttleman didn't sound anything like the enraged woman heard on the 911 call. Tammy says she was panicked and shouldn't have yelled. "I'm sorry for talking that way to the dispatcher. And I said I'll accept the citation and it won't happen again." On the call, Nuttelman refuses to give even basic information.

DISPATCHER: "You need to give me your date of birth."

NUTTELMAN: "You come and get my date of birth."

A deputy did come to Nuttelman's home near Juneau, to give her a citation for misuse of 911. Pat Ninmann says her dispatchers were very busy when Nuttelman called, "At the time that this lady had called in, was swearing at my dispatchers, my dispatchers were working on an accident, a motorcycle accident with severe injuries." Nuttelman now says she overreacted, "I mean, who doesn't when you call 911?" She says she regrets making that call and she will pay the citation. But she is angry that the sheriff's department has released that call to the public.

Nuttleman says deputies did help her once before when her horse escaped.

Yep, I bet they did, you lunatic.

Hey TJ, how's that OBFT mustache coming in?

Hmmmm, about as well as this...

A Man Who Wears the 10 lbs. of Gold...

You know those cheesy questions that are normally asked of celebrities and athletes on boring talk shows? The ones like "If you could have dinner with 4 people living or dead, who would they be"? Those questions are fucking stupid. I don't want to waste my time talking to Abe Lincoln or Joaquin Andujar over a chicken casserole. That shit is boring.

If I'm going to dip into the black arts in order to hang out with somebody, I'd at least like to tie one on and see if I can't manage to get us into a bar fight. (I mean, imagine all those assholes who include Jesus in their group of four and how aghast they'd be to see JC knocking back shots of Patron and talking to hookers. Do you really want to be in the same category as them? Well do you?). Anyway, if I had a talk show (any day now) the cheesy question I'd ask is What famous person living or dead would you like to get dirty, stinking drunk with? I feel as though you could probably get a better feel for your guest this way, as opposed to beating around the bush and talking about a fucking dinner party. (I'm guessing Rob goes to dinner parties, and I'm hoping he fucking hates them.)

So, since the rest of the G:TB crew are too drunk, lazy or stupid (or all three in TJ's case) to post anything today you're getting a clip of one of my top answers to this question. Ric Fucking Flair.

If I had my druthers, I'd like to go back to the early 80's and get dirty stinking drunk with Ric. Right around the time of his athletic and celebrity apex. Can you honestly tell me that you don't think a night spent boozing with the Nature Boy in a bunch of bars in the deep south wouldn't supply you with enough ridiculous stories to last a lifetime? At minimum you'd get in a fight, vomit, have sex with some random southern girl in the bathroom, shoot or be shot at with a shotgun, vomit again, snuggle up to Arn Anderson's beard, get in another fight and finally end up with your hair feathered before you eventually passed out to the sounds of Flair screaming 'WOOOOOOOO!' and dancing around like some kind of re-tard.

Dusty Rhodes may have been the "American Dream" but its Flair who lived the American Dream. He took his redneck roots and essentially overdid everything about them, thereby creating an entire image and persona that would position him as the king of the rednecks and, eventually, the king of wrestling. If Ric Flair isn't the epitome of what's great about America then I'm moving with Greg to Dubai.



Enjoy your night...and by all means, have too much to drink for Flair's sake.

Mark, what have we told you about calling 9-1-1?

I think Michael Kruse of Jacksonville, FL is G:TB's "Human of the Week" for these stellar performances:

911 caller asks for police escort to rap concert

ST. JOHNS COUNTY, Fla. -- A 20-year-old man has been arrested for misusing 911 after asking police to escort him to a concert in Miami.

Deputies say Michael Kruse of Jacksonville initially called 911 because he felt sick on June 21.

The call went into the 911 call center in St. Johns County.
Kruse's speech was slurred and the dispatcher had difficulty understanding him.

Dispatch: "Are you sure you haven't taken something sir? Because you're not making a whole lot of sense."

Caller: "I've been smoking marijuana."

Dispatch: "You've been smoking marijuana?"

Caller: "Yes."

Dispatch: "Do you want a deputy to come and take you to jail?"

Caller: "Why?"

Dispatch: "You just told me on a taped line you just got done smoking marijuana."

Caller: "Awww. Are you serious?"

Sgt. Chuck Mulligan, spokesman with the St. Johns County Sheriff's Office, said deputies located Kruse, took him to a family member, and gave him a stern lecture about 911.

Hours later on June 22, Kruse called 911 again. This time he was driving on I-95. He told the dispatcher he wanted a police escort to see the rapper, Lil Wayne, in concert in Miami.

Dispatch: "You want a police escort to take you to Miami?"

Caller: "Or, you have a helicopter?"

Dispatch: "We don't just send helicopters up for rappers."

Caller: "Well, I'm driving there right now. I just wanted the fastest way to get there. I didn't want to get pulled over on the highway."

The dispatcher had Kruse pull off the interstate and deputies arrested him for misuse of 911.

America: Land of the Perm, Home of the Brave

I don't know about you clowns, but when I think of the greatness that is this country, I think of blond perms. And I don't mean the zeros around prety ladies' private parts (though they are great). I think of the great (and underrated) William Katt. You may remember him from his strong supporting role in Carrie. You may rememer him from his fantastic lead performance in the cult favorite Big Wednesday. But you definitely remember him from his claim to fame, the epic sci-fi comedic family action drama thriller, The Greatest American Hero.



The legacy left by William Katt can't be understated. Without his on-screen brilliance and follicular leadership, we probably wouldn't have been able to appreciate the subsequent fro-someness of these two guys...






















God Bless America.

Positively Patriotic

Three words:

America. Fuck Yeah.

Welcome to America Week at G:TB

What that means exactly is yet to be determined...but we'll start this one off slow and easy...to a place we've kinda sorta went before...classic rock shoot out here we come...with the plants and birds and rocks and things...

Picture Not Included

Naked ex-mayor arrested at campsite
Gainesville’s Musselwhite denies causing earlier trouble

By Alexis Stevens
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Friday, June 26, 2009

A former mayor found sitting naked and holding a beer at a Rabun County campsite told police he wasn’t the same naked man seen walking around earlier.

Mark Musselwhite, 43, said he was hot and had been in the creek, according to a Georgia Department of Natural Resources incident report. He apparently didn’t think he was doing anything wrong.

For the Ladies

In recognition of our recent tilt towards the lad magazine side of the bookstore, we offer a little eye candy for the ladies in the audience.

(Insipid Michael Jackson tribute forthcoming, in case you were wondering.)

R.I.P. Farrah

Farrah Fawcett passed away today. Though a large portion of the G:TB sphere of influence wasn't old enough to appreciate her in "Charlie's Angels" or the poster on the back of your bedroom door (see below), here's to one of the female icons of Rob's and my youth.

Because We're in the Sports Doldrums

U.S.A vs. Spain in the Confederations Cup semifinals at 2:30 today. Who you got?

My New Favorite Lefty

When I was 10, I pitched a perfect game for the Redstone Arsenal A's. Later, my sweeping, Barry Zito-esque curveball earned me a spot on the All-Star team in the North Arlington Wiffleball League, until Whitney learned to lean into it to stop it from reaching the beach chair/strike zone. And that's about the extent of my pitching career, stunted as it was by an unfeeling society's choice to value of the size of a hurler's frame as opposed to his heart.

Imagine my vicarious thrill, then, when the Cincinnati Reds recalled young lefty Daniel Ray Herrera, all 5'6" of him, a few weeks ago. No novelty act, Danny, as he's proceeded to record a 2.22 ERA in 28 1/3 innings, striking out 20 despite a modicum of wildness.

Our similarities don't end at size, I might add. As his obviously accurate wikipedia entry notes (and as little guys across the world nod in recognition): "He is a notorious ladies man, known for leaving women yearning in every city." Good for you, Danny.

Hall of Fame Self-Congratulation

I tuned into NBC.com's coverage of the U.S. Open just in time to hear Johnny Miller say of Tiger Woods, "Maybe he can shoot a Johnny Miller round." I'll give him credit - it's hard to pull off back-patting of that difficulty without straining something.

Untitled

Yeah, this is shamelessly obvious and lazy. Sue me.