10 Questions About Beavis & Butt-Head

I got a fascinating text Friday night about 1 am. It was from Luke (one of the scores of Jacobys, you know the Jacobys, the people who auction crappy stoneware to unsuspecting freaks). In the text he let me know that this homeless guy named Chuck (a chubby brother probably in his early 50's) had hit him up for some dough, and Luke actually turned Chuck down for once. And I want to congratulate Luke for wising up, finally. I've been imploring the kid to quit giving Chuck money for several years. The problem with giving dough to someone like Chuck is that as long as he can get enough each day to eat something and get whatever fix he's looking for as far as a vice, he has no incentive to try and become a productive member of society. If we could just get everyone in the town that Elaine Benes is from to quit enabling Chuck, he and the community would all be better served. So, again, Bravo to Luke.

Speaking of homeless people, ever notice how many of them aren't exactly super thin?

Speaking of homeless people, the fine city of Greensboro tried to curb panhandling about 5 or 6 years ago by requiring panhandlers to get a permit from the city (I believe the permit was like $10). Anyway, as part of the permit process, the panhandlers had to provide an address. The only problem with that is most panhandling homeless folks don't, as a general rule, have, you know, a home. I called City Hall at the time and inquired about how to get one of these permits (as did a reporter for the Rhino Times, if I recall correctly). And when I did, the nice woman I spoke with seemed dumbfounded. As except for me and the reporter, no one else had called or stopped in to look into getting a panhandling permit. Baffling, right? I still see panhandlers all over town. In fact, just Friday I drove by at least half a dozen standing at various intersections with signs begging for a few bucks. It looks like the permit ploy to curb the panhandling problem in the Gate City hasn't worked. Shocking!!!

Well, another NFL Draft has come and gone. I mocked the average NFL fans way too intense interest in the draft last year. Go back and read the post if you want. This past Thursday evening, I was sitting out at that wing joint on Battleground, trying to enjoy the Thunder/Laker game (and thank you Thunder, they came through like champions, and did again last night too). To my right a few spots at the bar were a couple of kids who were spewing the same silliness back and forth to each other about the draft that they'd read on some website. I didn't think much of it, as I just kind of rolled my eyes and shook my head. A few minutes later, the Broncos took Tim Tebow. Now, all of you regular readers of this blog know my thoughts on how Tebow will perform in the NFL. I think he'll be a catastrophe. I could be wrong, but that's my opinion. One of the kids watching the draft down the bar from me a few spots is a big Gator fan evidently, because the kid went into great detail about Tebow and kept mentioning that Jon Gruden says Tebow will be a star. The only problem with what the kid was saying about Tebow's career as a Gator, is that all of it was wrong. The kid claimed Tebow didn't become the Gators starter until 2008. I asked him if he recalled that Tebow won the Heisman in 2007? And wouldn't it be quite a feat for a backup QB to win the award? He also claimed that Tebow only lost 3 games in his life. And I asked the kid what his definition of "life" was. Because I can remember several more than 3 losses. In the 2007 season alone, the Gators lost 4 times. If I remember correctly the Gators were beaten by Auburn, Georgia, LSU, and The University of Michigan. Well, this Gator kid (who happened to be sporting an enormous fake diamond stud in his left ear, and what with the stud earring and his shaved head, I asked him if he was the progeny of Mr Clean, alas, the kid didn't know what progeny meant...) thought I was making stuff up and hating on Tebow and blah, blah, blah. So this kid and his running buddy got out their IPhones and started googling to prove me wrong. The funniest part about that is that the stud earring wearing Gator fan tried to tell me that he had info that showed Florida went 11-2 in 2007. I asked him to show me the phone and he did not oblige me. Then his running buddy shoved his IPhone in my face with the score of the BCS title game between Florida and TOSU. He said, "Read that asshole. 41-14. In 2007. Fuck you asshole!" And, oh boy, I didn't know how to deal with them at that point. While it's true that the game in question was played in 2007, it was played in early January 2007. It was the conclusion to the 2006 season. And Tebow wasn't the starter that year anyway. These kids stomped outside to smoke and told me as they left, "We're gonna ride your ass all night. Just wait." I wasn't sure, but for a moment I was worried they were propositioning me for some bizarre, 3-way, Mr Clean-like, gay sex romp. The kids were outside a long stretch, about 10 minutes. When they came back in, something funny happened. They never said a word to me. As they must of looked on their pesky IPhones and noticed that I was not wrong. I did inquire at one juncture of the Mr Clean-esque Gator fan, what year he graduated from Gainesville. And like many other phony bandwagon jumping fans before him, he didn't have an answer for that. The poor kids took off about 12. I'd be surprised to see them back up at the wing joint on Battleground again. I really would.

And as far as Gruden being in love with Tebow, he may be right. But I'd remind everyone that Gruden doesn't have a great track record drafting QB's. Chris Simms? Bruce Gradkowski? Josh Johnson?

I was out at the thrilling Wednesday trivia competition the other night. And instead of 10 questions about Vegas Vacation, the kid running the game asked 10 questions about Beavis & Butt-Head. And that wasn't real fair to the other teams. I got them all. The closest anyone else came was 4 right. The thing was, I didn't think he asked really hard questions about the show. He could have really asked some hard ones, if he'd been so inclined. Now some of you reading this are aware of my feelings concerning Beavis & Butt-Head. As I have argued that the program is the greatest artistic achievement in the history of Western Civilization. And I wasn't kidding. Mike Judge, sheer genius. Much like David Bowie. Or Ray Chandler. Or Tommy Hobbes. Or Dosteovsky. Or a few other dead white males. Did I mention I won the pointless trivia game going away? It was a blowout.

There's a woman who is working for me right now who has been asking lots of questions (which I encourage, it comes with the job). Anyway, the thing about this woman and her questions is that she prefaces them by saying something along the lines of "This might be a stupid question, but..." And I've found that when folks preface their queries like that, that lo and behold, 99% of the time the question is indeed stupid. It's like when these guys preface statements by saying "Now, I'm not a racist, but..." Whenever guys do that, inevitably the next thing to spew out of their mouths is racist garbage. It happens without fail. Same thing with "I don't mean this personally, but..." Or "I hate to sound mean, but..." All that kind of silliness. It's nauseating. Just say whatever is on your mind. Or better yet, don't. I don't care.

Everyone's favorite bartender in Greensboro, my man Dave (the guy who worships Glenn Beck), has been getting super excited whenever a commercial for the new Nightmare On Elm Street comes on. I keep telling Dave that the film will suck. There's no way that it can't suck. I've been imploring Dave to lower expectations for this remake or re-imagining, or whatever. Because, it will suck. It will suck balls. Large donkey balls.

Lots more to cover, but my memory is hazy at the moment. I'll get to more next time.

Slip me a napkin and now that you start

Is this your name or a doctor's eye chart?

I am out - TBFH

A Dukie Pleads For Peace

The local paper here in Greensboro is a disgrace called the News & Record. It never was much of a paper, at least since 1997, when I moved here initially. The Sports section has always been horribly provincial, as when you read the thing it's almost like there is no college hoops being played outside the state of North Carolina, the only pro football teams in this country are the Panthers and Washington, the NBA exists on another planet, and NASCAR is the most popular "sport" in the universe. And don't forget the awful columnist, I think his name is Hard-on. Anyway, it used to be that the News & Record at least put out some news in the paper. I hadn't picked one up in awhile. Then last Sunday I was standing in line at the Food Slug (40's, potted meat, and string cheese) and went ahead and bought a copy sitting on the counter by the check out lane. And when I "read" it later, there was no "there" there. The sections were like 4 or 6 pages. And over half of the content was either huge photographs or ads. The Sports section actually had a tire ad on the front page. The Opinion section was devoid of opinion pieces. The Life section had little about life (or death, or purgatory). It was pitiful. I know circulation has been dropping for almost all newspapers across the country. And that's the News & Record's excuse for not having much news in the newspaper. They've had massive staff cuts and advertising revenue has tanked. And I don't think anyone under the age of 70 reads it on a regular basis at this point. I don't really have any suggestions for the higher ups to increase readership. It seems like a lost cause. They should go ahead and shut it down already. They'll have to in the next 10-20 years anyway. At least if they do it now, the Publisher won't bleed any more dough. What's also funny about the News & Record is the guy who runs the Opinion section, a dude named Allen's Johnson I think. This bleeding heart always struck me as little more than your standard silly liberal. And as I noted, I haven't been a regular reader of the Sunday paper in years and years. And Allen's Johnson writes a weekly column for the Sunday edition. Anyway, in that issue I picked up a week ago, Allen's Johnson was commenting on how bad the newspaper business is, but that, by golly, they're gonna keep plugging along and turn the terrible circulation around! Just like they would in a Hollywood musical with Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland. It's like Nero fiddling as Rome is burning. Get a clue Allen's Johnson. And have your resume ready when the paper goes under. I actually know a place where you can sign on for some easy money, a place where mindless liberals flock, a place where you can wear chicken grease stained sweat pants, a place where fatties stroll freely in their natural state. Just please don't use me as a reference. The place I'm describing would be perfect for you. That place or as a cook at Golden Corral. I think they even provide hair nets at that trough. Good riddance News & Record. You suck.

Speaking of local publications (and no, I still have not picked up a copy of the YES! Weekly), I was reading the Rhino here recently. And in it one of the columnists was pleading for some kind of truce between Duke and Carolina fans. Now, as you all know, I'm not a fan of either. What I found interesting about the piece is the guy who wrote it is a Dukie through and through (I believe his name is Scotty Roast). And the Dukies are so thin skinned, even after a 4th National Title in 19 years, that instead of enjoying the victory, they beg for peace with Carolina fans. It was a very telling piece -at least for me. I think what Roast's plea means, at least to this observer, is that in the state of North Carolina, Dukies will never feel at home. They will never feel the love from the unwashed masses that Old Roy gets and Dean E Smith got before him. And they know that. And the only place that Dukies might find that peace, that feeling of belonging, is in parts of New Jersey, Long Island, and other nuoveau riche NYC suburbs (Collin Finnerty's old stomping grounds). But Dukies from N Carolina don't want to move up to Yankee territory. So they're stuck here, desperately hoping against all sensibility that they might find some common ground, some communal peace, with Carolina fans. It's all pie in the sky do-gooderism silliness. Scotty Roast and his fellow Dukies are, and will continue to be, outcasts. Outcasts in their home state. It's pretty funny. At least to me.

Huge night yesterday with the hoops, as Dallas buried the Spurs, and covered the 4&1/2 with ease (don't let the final 6 point margin fool you). The thing about the game is that San Antonio played the best I think they can. The shot a high percentage. Ginobli was on fire. Tim Duncan was very good. They even tried bringing Mr Eva Longoria off the bench. And they still were down 12 with about a minute or so left. It's looking like last year all over again. We'll see. None of the other games were super compelling over the weekend. Of course, watching the Heat go stone cold for 18 minutes Saturday night was sickening. Sickening.

I am getting hungry. I need food. Blue Elf, your life force is getting low...

I say he who laughs first, didn't get the joke

I am out - TBFH

10 Questions About Vegas Vacation

Extraordinarily busy here today, as I'm refreshing myself on some work I haven't done in about a decade. It's coming back to me though. The information is up in my head somewhere. Anyway, I am gonna have to keep this pretty brief as a result.

NBA playoffs are here and the 1st round match-ups aren't nearly as intriguing as I was hoping, especially in the Eastern Conference. Without Bogut, the Bucks will be severely limited against the Hawks. The Cavs should have their way with the Bulls, as the Bulls are the worst of the 16 teams in the playoffs. Charlotte/Orlando should be interesting. I'm really looking forward to those games. As far as the Heat and Boston, I don't see how Dwayne Wade will let the Heat lose that series. And the Celtics don't appear to have much in the tank. The West should be a little more compelling to watch. Kobe and Durant might put on an epic show here the next few weeks. Jazz/Nuggets will be super intense. The 2 other series don't look too great, on paper at least. Dallas had their way with the Spurs last year and I don't see why things would be any different this time around (especially with the additions of Caron Butler and Brendan Haywood). And the poor Blazers are in deep trouble without Brandon Roy. They will still be tough to beat in Portland, but the Suns are playing great tight now.

As far as today's games go, I like the Heat and the points. And the Jazz and the points.

I was out at that trivia game on Wednesday night again. And the guy running the thing asked a series of questions on the movie Vegas Vacation. A terrible, terrible movie. Awful. I tried to watch it way back in the late 90s I guess. I didn't remember almost anything about it (as evidenced by the fact that I only got 3 of the 10 questions correct). I was gonna ask the kid why he picked Vegas Vacation of all movies to ask 10 questions about, but then I overheard one of the teams talking about how they own the DVD (which should be grounds for arrest, obviously) and watch it often. So, I get that. The guy running the thing was doing a favor for a team that isn't so great at regular trivia. The funny thing was that after digging myself a huge hole on that Vegas Vacation round (down 6 questions), I still came back and won the game. How, you may wonder? Well, I was the only one in the bar to know that Christina Applegate won an Emmy as a guest star on Friends. That and I know who Jim Everett is. Or Chrissy Everett, or whatever you want to call him. So even when they try to rig the game so I can't win, I still win. The Vegas Vacation loving team was pissed when the game was over. I shrugged my shoulders. Then giggled.

By the way did anyone know that the name of the strip joint in Vegas Vacation was Club Areola? And did you care??? I didn't think so. Ridiculous.

Gotta run --->

A Need To Know Basis

I have no idea what has been going on in the news lately. I overheard people at work talking about a Polish plane crash. I couldn't tell if they were serious or setting up some stupid ethnic joke. Something like, how many Polocks does it take to crash an airplane? Or something. Whatever. I try very hard to not overhear conversations at work. I tell people this: unless it's something I need to know, don't tell me. Please don't tell me. I have heard more about folks personal lives over the years than anyone could possibly stand. Some of my favorites pertain to the intimate particulars of medical conditions (I had a woman describe the strange color of her discharge to me one time, seriously), spousal issues (generally something along the lines of "I was up all night fighting with my husband about whether to eat Church's Chicken or KFC..."), the bus schedule ("The #7 was 10 minutes late this morning..."), car problems (lots of alternators, and I have no idea if that's even a thing on a car), political passions ("Sorry I was late, but I got so fired up by John Kerry's speech that I couldn't fall asleep..."), dreams (I remember a brother in Durham describing a particularly vivid one involving Halle Barry back about 5, 6, or 7 years ago), issues with children ("My daughter was out half the night with her no good boyfriend getting drunk and doing who knows what else..."), sports fanaticism ("I couldn't go to bed until the Braves game ended..."). And then there are the folks I respect, the folks who admit that they simply overslept, or just sit down and start working and feel no need to say anything to me, because they know it doesn't matter. As long as folks give me the professional courtesy to call and give me an estimate of when they'll be in, we're good. Because believe it or not, I do worry about folks who don't show up. I really do. Having said that, I don't need details. Please no details. As I mentioned above, the best way to operate in these situations is need to know basis. And if I don't need to know, don't say anything. You'll be one of my favorites. As I think I've made clear on this blog over its lifespan, I've heard too much already. Way too much.

The NBA playoffs are coming Saturday. And I'll try to get into plenty of it on this blog as we move forward. But I did want to mention a conversation I've had with way too many folks over the years about the NBA. I'm reminded of it because some guy was spouting off about it recently at the wing joint on Battleground. And it's this: the idea that somehow college hoops is a better brand of hoops than the NBA. Whenever someone tells me this (and it has happened very often over the years) I can't take anything they say about anything else seriously ever again. I especially love the argument that college ball "has so much passion," and "intense rivalries, " and "they play much better defense in college." Those asinine arguments. And I will occasionally respond to these morons with logic. But it never helps. These people can't be helped. If you enjoy college hoops more than the NBA, than you're not really a hoops fan, you're a fan of a certain school. That, or you're a racist piece of garbage who can't stand seeing brothers all tatted up making millions of dollars a year. It's generally the latter. Believe me. If you want passion, watch Joe Johnson, The Birdman, Dwayne Wade, and dozens others who would die on the court to make a play. If you want rivalries, watch the Suns/Spurs, or the Lakers/Spurs, or the Celtics/Cavs, or any number of others. And if you don't think they play defense in the NBA, please take a look at Marcus Camby, Kenyon Martin, Ron Artest, Dwight Howard, the entire Cavalier lineup, and come playoff time, everyone else. The whole topic makes me crazy. The mere thought that college hoops is even in the same stratosphere as the NBA is so utterly ridiculous.

I'm out - Peace.

Brandon Turns To Beck

A week ago Saturday I went out to the old ball yard here in Greensboro to watch the hard hitting exhibition action between my Hoppers and their parent club, the Florida Marlins. I've blogged about the ballpark before (in a post from last July), and it has gotta be the nicest Single A park in the country. Anyway, I was out at the game with Brandon and Brandon's dad. Baseball-wise, the key thing was getting to see the best player on the planet, my man Hanley Ramirez, play in person. But the key non-baseball part of the afternoon was hanging out at the bar down the left field line, listening to Brandon's dad tell stories about his honeymoon, and checking out all the babes at the game. The picture above was taken of the most interesting looking babe on hand. And yes, that is Brandon standing to the side of the babe in question. We had a great time, obviously. The only disappointing part of the whole experience is that the Hoppers failed to play the Do You Like Waffles video for me (I urge everyone to go to YouTube and check it out). I get super excited when they play the Waffles video, like a 3 year old on Halloween, or the guy who plays devil's advocate and studies his notes on Spanish Fly. Either way...

I saw where our friend The Tiger is catching some heat for a post-round interview he gave to CBS following Sunday's round in Augusta. And I'm not sure how anyone could possibly be surprised by how The Tiger comported himself there. I did see the interview as it aired and didn't find it the slightest bit unusual. The Tiger was a boorish ass. So what??? He's always been a boorish ass in defeat. The only difference is that this time it somehow offended people. And the only thing I wonder is this, where were all these supposedly offended folks the past 13 years??? As far as the golf itself, I was a little disappointed that Anthony Kim couldn't pull it out. And The Tiger's play was about what you'd expect, erratic shots mixed in with sheer genius. If he straightens out his driving soon, he's gonna win lots of tournaments the rest of the year. Let's hope that doesn't happen.

I was sitting next to a guy recently and he said to me, "How on earth do you work so fast?" He had a point. I walk out most days with a splitting headache, completely mentally drained. I don't know how I do it myself.

I walked into the wing joint on Battleground the other night and that Gobbler lady I've mentioned before was sitting at the bar with some nasty looking fellow teacher. And the pair saw me and screamed "Oh no! Not you again!" And that's always a nice greeting. I take it to mean that I must be doing something right. Because if the freaks react that way to just seeing me walk into the place, it means that the last time I interacted with them I pissed them off. Of course I walked right over near them and began mocking them about this or that. At one point there was a super nasty fattie over in the restaurant part of the place and I said something very rude about her. Well, the Gobbler teacher woman said, "That is so mean. I'm going to pray for you. I really am." I asked, "To who?" She replied, "To God." I said back, "You mean the dead guy?" It went even more downhill from there, as many of you can imagine.

Speaking of the wing joint on Battleground, my man Dave (the bartender in there most nights, and Dave is one of the best bartenders in town) has been talking quite a bit about skinny dipping in his boss's pool. That and Glenn Beck of course. Now, I have seen the pool in question. And you couldn't get me to skinny dip in there after hoisting back 10 Morphine Drips. But Dave, well...we'll see what happens. You never know.

I got a series of fascinating texts from my buddy McGrain last Saturday night. It was around midnight and here's what 1st the text said ---Drunk. 15 person van. Men At Work playing. Pathetic showing at Brian final. Thinking of you. Me and Andy --- Now, I liked this text quite a bit. The reason is that I can picture Dan and Andy, hammered, in a van, lamenting yet another championship trivia defeat (I've been there too many times, feeling the same way). I did inquire how the bad Tom fared at the final (that's 2 mentions for that cretin today). And the good news is that the bad Tom did even worse. Which is a good thing believe me, because if he'd have won, he'd have been over in Dan & Andy's vicinity boasting like an asshole. The only part of the text that Dan sent that I never got exactly clarified is what Men At Work song was playing. I'm hoping it was It's A Mistake. I really am.

Lots of typical craziness has been happening and I'll get to more of it soon. Particularly the conversation I had with Brandon's dad at the Hoppers/Marlins game about the wild world of competitive cheerleading. It was certainly enlightening. My only experience with cheerleading was mocking opposing schools' squads during basketball games back at the old Wellington School. I was not a nice boy. Not even close. I used words that some of the poor cheerleaders from the religious schools had never heard spoken aloud before in their lives. But I always said them very casually. Things like "Your pussy juice is dripping down your thigh." That type of thing. In that vein. It still amuses me to think of it over 22 years later...

They've gone and grabbed old Ronnie

Barry Does Baseball

I ran into a guy in a hallway recently. I hadn't seen the guy in several years. The guy asked me if I knew where I'd been. I answered, "No. Do you?"

I have mentioned my eternal battles with those pesky vending mentions on this blog before. Well, I was using one yesterday and waiting for a Mountain Dew to drop out of the thing when some fat woman comes waddling into the vending area and inquires if I can change a 10 spot for her. I ignored her plea, and instead told her that "...this machine is making me crazy." This lardy wonder responds, "What happened? Did it eat your money?" I said, "No, I underpaid by 15 cents for a MD and feel extremely guilty about it. I've been standing here trying to get this machine to accept a dime and a nickel from me, but it just gives me a 15 cent credit toward another purchase. I'm about to lose it here." Looking frazzled, she said, "You mean you're trying to give the machine more money after you received your drink?" "Yes, of course I am. Do I look like the kind of freak who'd steal 15 cents from a struggling vending machine company, especially in these economic times?" The fatty said, "You've got to be the only person who'd worry about it. I've never heard of such a thing." I said, "You have no idea." And she didn't.

I commented on the girl-like nature of Barack Hussein Obama's jump shot the other day. And I'll be damned, but Barry was at it again yesterday - only this time on the baseball diamond. I haven't seen footage of the toss toward the plate that Barry limply hurled in DC myself. But according to Geilfuss, it was, and I quote, "awful, awful, awful." I can't say I'm at all surprised. Barry seems to play every sport either like a girl (hoops, baseball), or a retard (bowling {and remember, that was Barry's own self-analysis, not mine}). The thing that interested me was that Barry was talking to some sports media folks about being a White Sox fan after the embarrassingly wild and to the left "pitch," and they asked who his favorite player was growing up. And he couldn't name one. Not ONE. What a fucking phony. Barry grew up in the late 60's to late 70's, and granted, the White Sox generally sucked during those years, but to not be able to name a single player??? I could name a hundred or more Cincinnati Reds from the mid 70's to mid 80's, in a matter of a few minutes. And our phony, throws like a girl, tyrant of a leader can't name one player from his youth who played on his favorite team. I don't know what more you need to know about this pitiful liar. Lastly on this, the most pressing and important question I had for Geilfuss about the whole spectacle of Barry weakly heaving the baseball towards home plate yesterday was, "Did he wear those mom jeans again?"

Well, another wild hoops tournament has come to a conclusion. And I'd be remiss if I didn't thank the Butler Bulldogs for coming through like champions last night. They covered that ridiculous number with little problem. Huge. Huge.

...this is starting to sound the same

Quigley Walks Into A Charlotte Checkers Game

A few Sundays ago, the hockey team in Charlotte, North By God Carolina, the Checkers, threw something called a Pooch Party. And Quigley's new people took him to the game. Which is utterly amazing. Amazing. In the past Quigley would have been scared to death of all the strange people, not to mention the strange dogs all over the place, and especially not to mention the noise from the hockey game itself. But somehow, if you look at the pictures of the event, and I have, Quigley looks like he's chilling out and taking it all in stride. Above is a picture of Quigley relaxing on one of the seats, checking out the hard-hitting hockey action.

Last night, during half of the huge Butler/Mich State tilt (and thank you Bulldogs, as they covered by half a point), CBS perpetrated one of the biggest farces in the history of broadcasting. They sent Clark Kellogg, an amiable dupe as it turns out (poor Clark, what were you thinking my man???), to play HORSE with our awesome tyrannical leader, Barack Hussein Obama. I'm not sure what journalistic value CBS thought came by airing such a spectacle. Whatever the motive, CBS looks like nothing more than toadies, water carriers promoting what Stalin would call the cult of personality. The piece went on for what seemed like 20 minutes. And I'm only glad the sound on the TV's at the wing joint on Battleground was too low to ascertain exactly how the conversation went between Barry and Special K. As far as the actual HORSE game, it seemed obvious that Special K threw the game. And I don't blame him a minute for that, as if he'd won I'm guessing a plane was waiting nearby to ship him off to GITMO. The other thing I took from watching this rigged "contest" was how horrible old Barry's form is when jacking up 20 foot jumpers. Let me just say this about Barry's basketball prowess - he would fit right in on any mediocre women's college team, as he was hoisting the ball toward the rim with some bizarre backspin. If you gave Barry some weave-like wig, small falsies, and a sports bra, he could suit up for the Lady Devils of Duke right now. I don't know if he could start for them, but he'd play a little, as a product of affirmative action if nothing else...

Speaking of our friends from Durham, I would be remiss if I didn't praise them a bit, as they too came through like champions last night, crushing Bob Huggins (who resembles a walking blubber-like corpse at this point) and getting that total to go over the 130 &1/2. My irrational hatred for Duke is always trumped by my desire to hit bets, so there was no bigger fan of the Devils in the world last night than yours truly. I kept yelling, "Micky gives the best hand jobs in North America!!! Go Devils!!!" I really did. No one seemed too offended, as the bar was full of Carolina fans. I don't know where the fake Duke fans were last night - puzzling.

After the game, WFNY News 2 had 2 reporters live in Durham to cover the celebration. What's funny about the coverage is that the streets were empty, there were no celebrants in sight. I chuckled a bit - Duke fans, even the real ones who go to school there, can't break away from their studious stupor for 30 seconds to go a little crazy over a Final 4 win, the first win for the Devils in the event since 2001. Although I'm guessing somewhere Collin Finnerty and his posse were NOT celebrating by inviting Crystal Mangum to "dance" for them...

A humiliating kick in the crotch

I'm out - TBFH

Geilfuss, Ross, & A Yellow Beetle = Love???

I stumbled into Scam's Lakeside last night just after 8, and a trivia game broke out shortly thereafter. This dude came by the bar where I was passing the time, watching the Golden Arches High School All-Star Scrimmage (always a horrible display of hoops, no defense and terrible shot selection - much like watching the Golden State Warriors this season...), and asked if I wanted to play. So, I went ahead and did. It was pitiful, to say the least. There were about 25 folks in the bar, all attempting to play this trivia game. I'm not sure exactly how many teams were formed from the 25 folks, I pay no attention to that kind of stuff. Anyway, the format for the game was 4 rounds of 10 questions - 1 theme per round. The 1st round was sitcoms - utterly stupid. There were 3 drunk kids (2 guys and a girl) sitting to my right and they were awful -they didn't even get a question about The Office right. The 2nd round concerned 90s music, and I did miss one of those, as I did not remember the EXACT date that Tupac was killed. My favorite question of the 2nd round was this: What rapper died of The AIDS in the 90s? I liked that - THE AIDS. I asked the kid running the game if he wanted the guy's real name or merely his rap name. I could give both. The 3rd round was all baseball. And some of them were pretty tough, I don't think any other team got more than 7 right (I somehow managed to correctly guess that the World Series had ended in a sweep 20 times). The last round was mostly hodgepodge silliness, and I did miss one of those (a grammar question - pretty embarrassing). When the guy announced that the winner got 38 out of 40 right and pointed out that I was sitting at the bar by myself, the typical groans were heard around the bar, the same groans I've heard over and over after I beat a room full of people, playing with no help whatsoever. There was some laughter when my team name was announced - The John Denver Flight School, one of my old standbys. A few folks did come up and congratulate me. One Roman nosed girl asked, "How did you do that?" I said, "Just lucky I guess." I didn't feel any sort of satisfaction in winning the thing though. I'm too something about trivia at this point, jaded?, utterly unimpressed with myself? I'm not sure. When the manager came over and gave me the "prize" (a $25 gift card), I wasn't quite sure what to do. For a moment I forgot where I was, turned and assumed Andy was standing nearby, and was gonna hand the gift card to the kid as always (that kind of stuff is strictly Andy's department). Then I realized, "Oh shit, I'm in Greensboro." The guy running the thing invited me to come back next week. I don't know about that. We'll see.

Speaking of the Golden State Warriors, I watched all of their game last night in Utah, and they didn't play defense 80% of the time. It was something to watch. I mean Don Nelson's boys made no attempt to stop the Jazz from getting whatever open look they wanted. At least they used to try and guard the perimeter a bit, and had some inside defensive presence. Those days are gone - the halcyon days of 2007.

I mentioned the 3 drunk kids to my right playing trivia last night. One of the 90s music questions was: What supermodel appeared in 2 G'N'R videos? The girl of the threesome says to me, "Stephanie Seymour?" I said, "It's sure as hell not Richard Seymour." She didn't laugh.

Geilfuss, in his latest blog post, mentioned that he'd been driving a yellow VW Beetle (a rental, his truck was T-Boned by a Methuselah aged broad). Well, he was driving the thing 2 weeks ago when I was up in the town Elaine Benes is from. At one point Geilfuss and Ross went for a spin in the yellow Beetle together. And I meant to get a picture and post it on this blog - because they looked like a very happy young gay couple in the car together. Alas, I didn't get around to it. It's funny, because I did put a picture up on this blog that same day - a picture taken at Get Bent Lounge. And the 1st thing I said to Geilfuss after I posted it was, "You look a little effeminate there Geilfuss (he really did - legs crossed demurely, hair mussed just so)." Andy readily agreed with my assessment. Geilfuss said, "Damn. Fuck you guys! I was thinking the same thing. You didn't have to point it out." Andy said, quite correctly I might add, "Oh yes we did." As for Ross, he seemed amazed at the time by my poor typing skills. And he's right. I'm awful. Slow. Super slow. And constantly backspacing. At one point Ross asked, "How fucking long does it fucking take you to fucking write a fucking blog post?" The truth is it takes forever. I can't type. At all. I'm worse than the worst hunt-and-pecker out there. Way worse. And as far as the quote above from Ross on the matter - I may have left out a couple of "fuckings." More swear words come out of the kid's mouth than not in most sentences. It's true.

I was playing The Knowledge the other night at the wing joint on Battleground (or more accurately giving answers to a couple playing The Knowledge, the guy you may remember me mentioning a few weeks ago- he was wearing the Borque jersey during the Gold Medal hockey game). This question came up that reminded me of my favorite homonym - fungi & fun guy. On the several occasions I pointed this out to various English instructors over the years, they didn't seem too appreciative of my having noticed the homonym-esque nature of the situation. The same instructors also never seemed to see the humor in the pairing of blackmail & black male...

I was talking to a relatively new reader of this blog the other day, and he said (referring to this very blog), "It's pretty self-indulgent, don't you think?" I said, "No one's making you read the thing." He quickly said, "I'm not saying I don't like it. Don't get me wrong." I thought for a moment and said, "I'm not sure how writing can't be self-indulgent, if you think about it." And I think I'm right about that. Not that I'm a writer exactly. I'm not. I don't claim to be. John Updike is a writer. And I'm no John Updike, not even in the same universe. Obviously.

See, I don't give a fuck, that's the problem

I see a motherfuckin' cop, I don't dodge him