The 15% Rule

There's a scandalous new book coming out about Alex Rodriguez and steroids. Yeah, I know. You're probably racing over to Amazon.com to pre-order it. ESPN.com just posted a report that included some of the juicy details.

And while I mentioned in the comments of the post just prior to this that my biggest problem was deciphering what the hell "B---h T--s" meant (see the prior post for why it was such a struggle), I read on and was just flabbergasted. Not at the audacity of the rampant steroid use and web of lies covering it up. Hell, no, I figured that much.

But here is one of the outlandish tidbits about A-Rod from the upcoming book. (There were only 3 mentioned, this must be a dandy):

"• A-Rod was hated at Hooters, where he tipped the minimum 15 percent."

What??? He was "hated" because he tipped 15 percent? What melodrama. I get it, he has a ton of money, but what if the service was shoddy? I've been to Hooters; it can be hit or miss with the rocket surgeons hoisting trays there, and even if he got preferential treatment, what if they were annoyingly ass-kissy or bimbotic? He should give more simply because he can afford it? Does he buy an iPod from the Apple store for $1000 just because he can afford it?

And it's not like he stiffed the wait staff. It's not even like he gave 10%. 15% is the standard. 20% or more is earned, dammit, not charity work. I almost always give 20%, if only because the math is easier, but I certainly don't begrudge people for giving 15% (unless they're dining with me, and then come on, dude).

When Rob and I were delivering pies in Williamsburg for the Hut lo those many years ago, Bruce Hornsby's dad routinely gave a $20 bill on a $19.70 pizza order. Thanks, jackass. And even then, I wouldn't say we HATED him. We would just try to dodge that delivery and give it to Big Bruce or one of the pedophile couple.

Anyone at Hooters who "hated" A-Rod not because he was a namby-pamby whose presence on their favorite team's roster doomed them and whose contract was Exhibit A on what is wrong with baseball but because he only tipped 15% needs a desk job, and pronto. And they need to watch Reservoir Dogs and realize what some customers do.

And Selena Roberts, author of the book, just piling on -- when the fact that he's a milquetoast juicer should be enough --well, she'd better tip 22 fucking % every time out for dinner or beers after this. After all, with her book advance . . . she can afford it!

Battle of the Day: Pandemic vs. Epidemic

Breaking down the two best words used to describe the swine flu. In case you were wondering, the special burrito yesterday at my local burrito shop was a Mexican pork burrito. I shit you not.

Pandemic - an epidemic that is geographically widespread; occurring throughout a region or throughout the world.

Pros - has the global feel that scares folks and gives the press plenty of opportunity for sensationalist journalism. This breadth of fear is impressive.
Cons - allows crap sandwich movies like Night of the Comet, Outbreak and I Am Legend to be made.

Epidemic - a widespread outbreak of an infectious disease; many people are infected at the same time.

Pros - has depth of fear. May only scare folks in one area, but it brings the fear in a big way.
Cons - doesn't capture the attention of the entire world. Nobody on the Ivory Coast cares about an Ecuadorian epidemic.

Winner - Epidemic by a (diseased) nose. Depth always beats breadth.

This is what happens when I'm left in control...

Actually, thats not totally true. If I had known that I was being left in control today then I would've worked up 1,500 or so words on the the NBA Playoffs or the NFL Draft or maybe just the pleasures of a stiff drink, a fresh bag and a good album. Sadly, none of this is the case. I just returned home and saw TJ's email plea for a new post (as well as Whitney's and Rob's replies where they bitched out like the two old, broken down skirts we all know they are). Luckily for them, and you, I'm here to get the job done. Even if that means its getting done sloppily and with little inspiration. So...ummm...yeah, enjoy one of my favorite songs (the video's kind of fresh too) by one of my favorite artists, RJD2, and try not to kill yourself on a Monday where you surely are hating your job.

As Mr. Page and Mr. Plant once so eloquently said...

Ramble On...

This is meant to be the open post for the NFL Draft tomorrow. It promises to be a pretty exciting day, no Jazz Fest day I'm sure, but fun nonetheless. And I felt this picture captured the draft for all football fans out there...I think we all hope Saturday and Sunday could be this perfect:

Friday Clip Fun

One of my favorite Ice Cube tunes of all time. I do however suggest keeping the volume reasonably low on this, for pretty obvious reasons. This is probably my second favorite "diss track" of all time.

Don't Mess With Texas

According to a Daily Kos/Research 2000 (and yes, I'm highly aware of the source's bias - we're doing silly comedy here, not politics) poll conducted this week, 48% of Texas Republicans answered 'Independent Nation' to the following question:

"Do you think Texas would be better off as an independent nation or as part of the United States of America?"


After giving this some thought, I'm all for it, provided the Cowboys go with the new Republic. The resulting lack of drama would probably be worth adding yet another oil exporting nation to our roster of creditors.

I'm a little worried about Ed Werder, though.

That's...Unfortunate

Here we go again with the windmill-tiliting. Something tells me that the graphic designer behind this 1973 logo for the Catholic Church's Archdiocesan Youth Commission was dearly hoping that it wouldn't see the light of the internet.

(h/t to Andrew Sullivan)

W&M Students Break Record; Alums Weep

Okay, this is it. This is the final straw.

We hung in there through four, sometimes five years of getting completely stymied both by bitter professors with an inflated sense of self-worth and homely co-eds whose self-worth wasn't the only thing unnecessarily inflated. We dealt with one (1) bar and two (2) Dellys (sic). We tolerated retirees, tourists, and 10,000 tri-cornered hats. We smiled at the rumors of suicides and gay people. We swallowed Katie Koestner. We accepted cans over kegs, statesmen over sports heroes, and big time SAT's over big-time PAT's. Our fraternities were all dorms. Our classmates were all dorks. Our curriculum was straight out of the 50's (1750's), our options for amusement were straight out of witness protection programs, and our friends quickly became some of the closest we would ever have -- on a par with war veterans or cellmates. And we took it. We were made to feel like Blutarsky clichés -- and this diatribe won't do anything to diminish that notion among unfamiliar readers -- but we took it.

We made the best of it. I know I did. Had a ball.

As alumni, we accept that we won't be going to watch our D-I men's basketball team play in one of the biggest annual sporting events in the nation. Ever. The football team is starting to resemble the basketball team in its putridity, even as the Laycock Center (not instructions from the Kama Sutra) still has the "new football complex" smell. But we shrug it off. We know that with each passing year, our alma mater ups its academic standards and lowers its chances of attracting anyone like us to the campus. (Actually, we may even appreciate it, as it unjustly raises our résumés' stock.) Well-rounded -- truly, not just double-major candidates -- students need not apply. The rugby and lacrosse club teams are on their last legs, gasping for air, and we dismiss it as changing with the times. The school makes the news not for something noteworthy and impressive, but because they ran their well-liked -- but only by students and peers, not by Pat Robertson -- president out of town on a rail for the trifling cross thing. We mock it, we write about it condescendingly, and then we forget it. The students are no doubt suffering the constraints of the era and the administration far worse than we did, and anyone of our ilk who squeezes through the gates of admission for some good times and a good education in a state school must certainly find themselves in some sort of intelligence-quotient-arrogance/social-skill-ignorance purgatory, grinding out their days until transfer, graduation, or death. But that's that. Meanwhile, the pleas for alumni donations become more vociferous every year, even as we wonder if it's really the most worthwhile of causes. But we accept it all the way.

And we make the best of it. We come back for Homecomings, but simply resume our pattern of isolation and consumption. We follow the teams, even as they let us down. We look for news items on the school, even as they tend to make us cringe. And many of us write the checks every year. And we enjoy it.

This is it, though. This is beyond what we are expected to take as persons even loosely affiliated with the College of William & Mary. This is a new low in the coolness factor ratings for the College, and I feel a bit lamer just for having been in these Sunken Gardens many a time. (Bangin' chicks and drinkin' brews, undoubtedly.)

Gheorghe: The Blog readers unfamiliar with our alma mater, feast your eyes on this atrocity and please go lightly on us in your future judgments of us.

Meanwhile, for those of us who ever harked upon the gale, or barfed upon the Crim Dell, or overpaid an ungrateful Greek for tepid swill through unclean taps into a cheap plastic cup, or strode the Colonial Mile down DOG Street wondering what it's all about and why we're here and not somewhere else with nickel drafts and beautiful, brainless hallmates with casual morals . . .

. . . well, here's another reason to cringe.

First, pirates...now this...

...when will the insanity end?

WEYMOUTH, Mass. — A man witnesses said was dressed like a ninja used a sword in an attempt to rob a dry cleaner on Main Street, police said. The man, wearing a ski mask and a sword in a sheath on his belt, walked into the Tedeschi convenience store at 1039 Main St. around 8 a.m. Monday, Sgt. Richard Fuller said.

“All the witnesses said he was dressed like a ninja,” Fuller said. “He was in all black including the black ski mask. And they said it was a ‘ninja sword’ (he was carrying).”

A clerk, alarmed by the man’s appearance, called police. When the man noticed her, he pulled his mask off and asked if she was calling about him, Fuller said. When she said she was, the man left the store and walked into nearby Galaxy Cleaners.

There, Fuller said he pointed a sword at the register and asked a clerk to give him all of the money inside. She told him she couldn’t open the drawer, and the man left the scene, Fuller said. Police are still searching for the man, who witnesses said appeared to be in his late 20s.

Stop the search...we found him:

If the Nats need pitching...

- and there's a slight chance they might - considering this guy in the 2009 draft wouldn't be a horrible idea:

W PORT RICHEY, Fla. -- Mitchell High senior Patrick Schuster tossed his fourth consecutive no-hitter on Monday night. The lanky left-hander struck out 17 to help his team beat rival Pasco High 5-0 in front of a full house of several hundred spectators. Schuster's streak began April 3. He's piled up 60 strikeouts in the four games, helping Mitchell to a 19-3 record. He's 7-0 on the season.

And look at that. He's already pitching in front of a larger crowd than the Nats currently draw.

Happy Election Day Monday

What, you didn't realize today was Election Day? Damn right it is, and it is the tightest Papal Election we've seen in years. Readers should vote early, vote often...and if you forgot whether you voted or not, vote again.

And here's one final campaign video for you before you enter the voting booth:

It's all about me...and the NBA Playoffs.

I know it sounds weird, but I'm often inspired to write about sports by Jerry over at the Wheelhome. When he writes about sports, he does it intelligently and concisely, where I often ramble and end up feeling like I didn't fully express my point. After reading Jerry's post on the 1st round of the NBA Playoffs, I decided that I had some things to say about the Playoffs. And that I would try to get it done in less than 1,000 words. (I know, not bloody likely)

(Note: This was all written before yesterday afternoon so I didn't know Derrick Rose was going to turn in a performance for the ages in Boston, or that Houston was going beat the living shit out of the Blazers in Portland.)

5 Guys that I'll be paying special attention to

1. Chris Paul: Best little guard since Isiah, and that compliment still probably doesn't properly capture how awesome (and I do mean awesome) this guy is. Take a look at the Hornets roster. This team had no business winning 50+ games this year. As someone who still plays point guard regularly (and isn't 1/100th as gifted as Paul), I can tell you I try and steal at least one little thing from him every single time I watch him.

2. Brandon Roy: Probably my favorite player in the NBA right now. A smooth, efficient scorer with every skill you'd want in an elite wing player. He's a great teammate with a still developing taste for big crunch time moments. Every elite young perimeter player should be forced to watch tapes on Roy. His play in these Playoffs will determine just how far a young, inexperienced Blazers team can advance.

3. Rajon Rondo: I know people who don't like Rondo's game and/or don't think he's very good. These people are idiots. He has everything you could ever want in a point guard, other than a consistent jump shot (that's developing though). His defense and rebounding is better than any point since a young Jason Kidd. His continued development throughout the last year's postseason was a very underrated story in Boston championship run. With Garnett out, he's going to have to assume a greater share of the scoring, facilitation and leadership roles on this team. He's capable of taking his play to the next level (and did so yesterday). The question is: Will he do it consistently?

4. Dwyane Wade: As much as I love good guards and with the amount of television exposure to Wade that I get, you would think that I was a huge Dwyane Wade fan. I never really was though. I mean, I thought he was a terrific player but there were some holes in his game. Also, I think I was bitter over the way the 2006 Finals were officiated and downgraded Wade somewhat as a result. Whatever the reason was, consider me converted. He's been a force of nature this year. He's seemingly more athletic than ever and he's added a pretty consistent 3 point shot to his already impressive offensive arsenal. I have a feeling that he's going to average about 40 a game against the Hawks and carry a pretty average Miami team into the second round.

5. Dwight Howard: Honestly, I just put him on here so I could talk about the Magic. Ideally, Jameer Nelson would be listed here instead of Howard. As good as Rafer Alston has been for the Magic since his acquisition, this is where the Magic are going to miss Nelson most. He was the team's best, most consistent crunch-time creator and he was developing a knack for knocking down daggers before he went down with a shoulder injury. The Magic will struggle late in games without Nelson (Turkoglu is too inconsistent and has a tendency to get too out of control at times to be the main offensive initiator late in games) and that will be their downfall in the Playoffs. Dwight is great (and actually somewhat underrated nationally) but he's still too raw offensively (and too dependent upon others due to the nature of his position) to be the go-to guy for a team with Conference Final (at minimum) aspirations.

Guys who just missed my list:

Deron Williams: 2nd best PG in the game. If it wasn't for Chris Paul, the whole league would be going apeshit over for him. He's going to average about 30-12 on the Lakers in the 1st round.

J.R. Smith: The ultimate gunner. Talented, mercurial and probably completely fucking bananas. He will shoot it from damn near anywhere whenever he gets a decent look, regardless of time or score. Fun to watch and (I'm guessing) hell to coach.

Paul Millsap: He helped salvage my fantasy season when he averaged 17-9 over almost 3 months this season. He's undersized but he's a terrific athlete with a great motor. He's the best of a group of guys with similar games that includes Brandon Bass, Carl Landry, Luis Scola and a few others. He'll always get his and you never have to run a play for him. The Lakers don't really have someone to match up with him.

Rudy Fernandez: He's somewhat like a less selfish, less crazy yet equally dangerous version of JR Smith. He's constant motion without the ball in his hands and a very creative passer. I wouldn't be shocked if he and Brandon Roy are starting in the same backcourt (with Roy playing the point) in a year or two.

Derrick Rose: Added to this list based solely on yesterday's jaw droppingly unbelievable performance. I said it yesterday and I'll say it again: A bigger, stronger, bouncier version of young Tony Parker.

First Round Series that most interest me:

Nuggets-Hornets: The most exciting player in the Playoffs takes on the most exciting and unpredictable team in the Playoffs. Plus, the Birdman is back baby! Maybe he'll even break out that Greg Brady perm that he rocked when he last saw him in the Playoffs.

Hawks-Heat: I said it earlier, this just feels like a series where Wade goes buck wild and carries that Heat to a victory. The reason he'll need to average nearly 40 to advance the Heat, in my opinion, is that the Hawks are vastly underrated. Joe Johnson's one of the top 10-15 players in the league and he's got a deep, talented, athletic group of guys to play with. I really hope this goes 7. (Note: Celtics-Bulls has taken on a whole new feel after yesterday. Hell, I could probably watch Rondo and Rose play one-on-one for 6 straight hours)

Conference Finals Predictions:

Lakers-Rockets: Honestly, I have no clue who will advance to meet the Lakers in the Western Conference Finals. I'm just hoping its the Rockets. Here's why: (1) The Yao vs. Gasol/Bynum matchup is as good a matchup of elite bigs as we're likely to see in the Playoffs for a number years. (2)The Kobe-Artest/Battier matchup will be unbelievably intriguing on a number of levels and,(3) I want the national media to finally admit how overrated Tracy McGrady is as a winner and a teammate. If the Rockets can get the Western Conference Finals then at least it will be major topic of discussion.

Cavaliers-Celtics: Obviously, I'm not feeling as good about this after Saturday, but consider this: The Celtics got nothing out of Ray Allen and Derrick Rose played the game of his life and, even with that, the Bulls needed OT (and Paul Pierce to miss a free throw with 2.5 seconds left in regulation) and a number great/clutch shots from Ben Gordon to win. I just have a feeling the Celtics are going to go into the "nobody believes in us" mode for the next couple rounds and somehow find a way to gut their way into the Eastern Conference Finals.

In a Missionary Position

The negativity is rampant here at Gheorghe lately, and I've been guilty of it myself. Not sure if it's because we just had Tax Day (and if you took a beating like I did despite not making a fortune, I feel your pain), if it was the Masters meltdown, or just "Dancing With the Stars" not going the way you dweebs want. But the frenzy of "I hate ____", "I wish ____ would die," and "_____ is a pasty, goofy, upstate New York Spicoli wanna-be with huge feet, a five-year-old's diet, and a wardrobe like Screech's" is starting to get over the top.

G:TB contributors are mandated to have a hard copy of our Mission Statement on them at all times, no matter what. G:TB readers are strongly advised to follow suit. (Zoltan, Shlara, Geoff, KQ . . . we can get you laminated copies for your use.) It helps keep you in touch with your "inner Gheorghe"; when you hit those crossroads in life, asking WWGD? is always a fine idea. Let the big guy steer your ship.

Wherever Gheorghes go, whatever they do, the Mission Statement is right there on their person. Even while playing croquet, handball, smear-the-queer, or snooker. While fishing off the pier, company or otherwise. While hang gliding over Jockey's Ridge, ballooning over Pike's Peak, or peeing over the third rail. Yes, even while showering, and yes, even during the physical act of love with spouses, girlfriends, or cousins. (The lone exception is when making love to oneself, 'cause that's just weird. Keep it in the other room with the television on while you do your thing.)

Rob has his G:TB mission statement attached to his remote. TJ uses his as a bookmark in his copy of If I Did It. TR wallpapered his bathroom with it. Mark has his tattooed on his forearm. I've made a series of cocktail napkins and beer koozies with it printed on them. In each of these cases, you can imagine what banged-up state the mission statements are now in . . . but it matters not.

It's ingrained in our heads, and also in our hearts. Dennis knows it in Latin. TR knows it in Pig Latin. Rob can recite it forwards and backwards. TJ can only recite it backwards (Rain Man). The point is that the very reasons this vehicle was launched 5+ years ago are words to live by, and words which we typically do live by. And yet . . . sometimes it can get away from us.

(As an aside, using "it just got away from me last night" as a euphemism for "so sorry I drank a liter of Jameson, called you the wrong name in public and in bed, punched your uncle in the throat, and vomited in your car's A/C vent" is a handy utensil.)

So, in an effort to get back to what this endeavor is really all about, we are re-printing the words of founding partner "rob" from way back in 2003. Here's hoping the cock-eyed optimism that it encourages will pervade our upcoming posts.

Mission Statement, or What's a Gheorghe, and Why Should I Care?

I don't trust anyone that can't laugh at himself. I think that Crash Davis was dead on, right up until he started talking about Susan Sontag, at which point I tuned out. I'm hopelessly addicted to the Boston Red Sox, even though I know it's not good for me. I believe that sports, like society at large, is full of self-important, egomaniacal windbags at all levels, and I intend to use this space to tilt at the windmills that threaten to suck all of the joy out of the things that I love.

This space is named, with love, for the most fun athlete ever to draw a paycheck from a professional franchise. Gheorghe Muresan, late of the Washington Bullets and New Jersey Nets, stood 7'7" and weighed 330+ pounds. He shuffled around a basketball court like a slightly more mobile version of Frankenstein's monster, with a splay-footed gait and elbows and knees that flailed about as if independently operated. His elongated, comically expressive face conveyed the unmistakable glee and amazement with which he viewed his place in the NBA’s firmament, even as he made the often numbing journey from rookie to veteran. He played a handful of NBA seasons with a modicum of success, being honored as the NBA's Most Improved Player in 1997-98. Most importantly, though, he played basketball and approached life with a pure, unadulterated joy that was, and is, unmatched by any other professional athlete.

Gheorghe's spirit and the joy with which he appears to approach life offer lessons for all of us about the important things. This space will celebrate those in sports and elsewhere that live with Gheorgheness, and skewer those that think they are more important than the game - be it sports or life. Gheorghe: The Internet Magazine, had a brief, meteoric run several years ago, flaming to earth in a blaze of apathy amidst rampant rumors of financial mismanagement. Gheorghe: The Blog rises like a phoenix from the ashes, or at least like a Weeble, to carry on the Gheorghian mission.

I'll take the first step in this new Era of Positivity™. Let's see . . . be positive . . . okay: Although I have never met Mark in person, I am positive that he is an incredible douchewhistle. (Just kidding, Mark. I am positive Greg's wrong.)

And finally, we are unveiling our newest official Gheorghe. She's Romanian, a singer/model, and she looks nothing like Gheorghe Muresan. Her name: Elena Gheorghe. Enjoy (and click on the picture to get the full, blown-up effect).

Guess what? Baseball still sucks...

Hopefully you can excuse my recent spell of absenteeism but, you see, I've been very busy. I mean, you can't just drive up to Bristol and murder Tim Kurkijan and John Kruk without a really solid plan and a reliable alibi. These things kinds of things takes lots of time to plan out. So, with that in mind, I'm taking today off in order to rest up a little and go over all the details of my upcoming "vacation". Why am I taking today off? Because your 2009 National Champion Florida Gators are playing their annual Orange and Blue Scrimmage today in beautiful, idyllic Gainesville, FL...and football is approximately 35 times cooler than any gay ass April baseball game. So grab a beer, your best Granny Smith apple and enjoy a sport that features athletes who "run", "hit each other" and aren't "fat fucking slobs". This should get you appropriately pumped...



And yes, I know this game is meaningless. Kind of like the first 3 months of baseball season.

"Kyle, I hate you, I want you to die..."

I am quite certain more than a few Kansas City Royals fans muttered those words around 9:55 PM CST Wednesday night. And they weren't directed at the young man in the green hat to the right. No sirree, Bob...they were directed at none other than Kyle Lynn (figures) Farnsworth, a man I have had the honor and privilege to "root" for as well.  Wednesday night was par for the course for Kyle, the man with the career 4.52 ERA and 1.41 WHIP.  He managed to give up three runs while getting only one out in relief for the Royals.

On the season, Kyle the Lead Obliterator has made four appearances.  In those stellar trips to the mound, this is his line:

3IP, 6H, 6ER, 1 HR allowed, 2BB, 0-2 record, 16.20 ERA, 2.40 WHIP

For his career:

The aforementioned 4.52 ERA and 1.41 WHIP, as well as a 30-50 record, 27 saves (excellent) and 23 blown saves (bogus), and let's not forget the 113 HR allowed.

The man is a menace to any bullpen he sets foot in.

Honestly, Dave Terry, if you're still out there, google yourself

Because this Friday's clip is all about you. But Greg, buddy, this one's for you. Or, as you like to say "Clark...ghift".

Up with Rampant Juvenilia, Too!

Presented without comment.

All You Zombies

This story got a bit of play last week, so apologies if you already saw it, but the combination of insanity and inanity proved irresistable to G:TB's editors.

(CNN) -- Woody Harrelson defended his clash with a photographer at a New York airport Wednesday night as a case of mistaken identity -- he says he mistook the cameraman for a zombie.

The TMZ photographer filed a complaint with police claiming the actor damaged his camera and pushed him in the face at La Guardia Airport, according to an airport spokesman.

"We're looking into this allegation and if it's warranted, we'll turn it over to the proper authorities," said Port Authority of New York and New Jersey spokesman Ron Marsico.

The photographer, who was not identified, captured the encounter on a small camera after his larger one was broken.

Harrelson, who is being sued by another TMZ photographer for an alleged assault in 2006, did not deny his involvement.

"I wrapped a movie called 'Zombieland,' in which I was constantly under assault by zombies, then flew to New York, still very much in character," Harrelson said in a statement issued Friday by his publicist.

With my daughter at the airport I was startled by a paparazzo, who I quite understandably mistook for a zombie," he said.

That last sentence is my favorite part. Of course it's quite understandable. Happens to me nearly every day. I've just been lucky to avoid gruesome death or assault charges. Carry on, Woodman, we need more of you.

I'm Not Sure You Can Handle the Truth

How many of you out there remember a little film called A Few Good Men? Based simply on the frequency of quotes from it bandied about the posts and comments of our blog circle (most popular: "You, Lt. Weinberg??"), it's fairly ingrained. Now . . . how many of you knew that it was based on a true story? Maybe you did, but I was unaware until last night.

Yes, the play which became the film was written by Aaron Sorkin ("The West Wing", The American President, Charlie Wilson's War), and apparently it's based at least in part on the tribulations of a young JAG officer (I chuckle immaturely every time those two words are uttered together) attorney named Donald Marcari.

So apparently Marcari is still practicing law, but not in historically bold circumstances toppling giants akin to a Colonel Jessup. He's in the private sector now, with an office not far from where I live. And as I was flipping channels last night, his advertisement aired on one of the local affiliates.

"As a young JAG officer--"

[And of course I laugh and can't wait to see who the young jagoff they're talking about is]

". . . Don Marcari put everything on the line to defend his clients. His story was told to millions of people in the movie A Few Good Men."

[Really? It was a true story? Huh. Wonder what this guy's doing now. Color me intrigued, or at least paying attention to to local ad, which in the TiVo era, I am not wont to do.]

". . . Today, Don Marcari and his partners fight--"

[Wait for it . . . wait for it . . . ]

"the insurance companies--"

[He's an ambulance chaser! No! LTJG Daniel Kaffee is now a friggin' ambulance chaser.]

"If you've seen the movie, then you know he will fight for you with unwavering passion. If you've been hurt, call . . ."

[Ugh.]

". . . and put a few good men to work for you.]

[Double ugh.]

And the pièce de résistance? Their URL.

www.handle the truth.com

I guess any questions as to whether there will be a sequel to the movie have just been answered. I know, times are tough all around, but I would just hate to see where Lt. Weinberg is slumming these days.

Go see the commercial for yourself. It's "COMMERCIAL TWO". And if you live in southeastern VA or NC and you've recently been hurt, I'd give him a call. Seems like you could do a lot worse than the guy who got Col. Jessup to admit he ordered the Code Red.

Caption This

We do a lot of goofy filler posts around here, but I'm not sure we've tried this one before...enjoy the pic below, and if you're bored as hell, fill up the comments with potential captions for this super awesome photo (sent to us by "Bullet for Life" Shlara):