John Harkes Is Sparkling

I was flipping around the old TV and noticed that Barack Hussein Obama has nominated yet another ugly as sin broad to become an Associate Justice of Blah, Blah, Blah. And as I looked for a moment at this latest beyond homely comrade of Barry's to be pushed onto the throne of judicial power, I couldn't help but make a comparison between this current despicable looking bag (I believe her name is something close to Ivana Cox...) and that repulsive woman from last year (whose name totally escapes me, but I remember the chins, I remember the 8 chins). Now, I'm not nearly bright enough to figure which of the 2 of these jurists is in fact uglier. It may be an unanswerable question, much like why would anybody watch Jay Leno. But, the broader and more important issue to keep in mind is this, what does old Barry have against decent looking women??? Maybe it's true that there are no attractive liberals outside of Hollywood, but there has to be 1 female commie buddy of old Barry's somewhere who could sit on this stupid court who wouldn't make me puke whenever I get a clear view her face on TV. Maybe old Barry should just have Demi sit on this asinine court. She couldn't be any more insipidly liberal than these repulsive broads, and she'd be a damn sight better to look at.

I was out at some joint on N Garden yesterday and a group of guys behind me got to wildly speculating on the number of yellow cards it takes for a player to get tossed out of a World Cup match. One of them guessed 7. Anyway, I texted this little tidbit out to some folks and it was then that Geilfuss reminded me, via a return text, that Carlos Valderrama once ran up a number of them in one match as he wouldn't leave the pitch after being tossed (it may have been 8 of them). And I remembered seeing that on SportsCenter. It was hysterical. I think Marco Etcheverry came close to doing the same thing at one point.

I've also taken notice of how abysmally atrocious the American TV analysts are for the World Cup. Alexi Lalas, I know he played for the US National Team for quite a long time. I saw him play in dozens and dozens of games in the 90's. But to hear him talk about the game on these studio shows, I'd swear that he's as clueless about the sport as a server at the Wing Joint on Battleground is about birth control. And John Harkes, oh shit. John Harkes. When he was talking about sparkling or being flushed down the drain the other day during the US/Ghana match, I found it so hilarious that I couldn't quit repeating this question, "Is he (whoever was involved in whatever play) sparkling? IS HE FUCKING SPARKLING???" NOW??? IS HE SPARKLING NOW???" I couldn't shut up about it. Although I also thought it was insightful when Harkes mentioned that it was important to have possession of the ball to get an attack going. That was deep.

One last thing here, I'm heading out to a little birthday celebration here in a few minutes for the best bartender in Greensboro, my man, and Glenn Beck disciple, Dave. Happy Birthday, Dave! Also, I know that Geilfuss's birthday is around this time of the year, and I might as well say Happy Birthday to him as well.

I am out --->

Al Gore Likes Happy Endings

I knew the US Soccer Team was doomed yesterday before the match even started. The reason I knew we were doomed is the fine broadcasters at ABC showed that a certain national joke, one William Jefferson Blythe, was at the match "cheering" on the team. And when I saw that Slick Willie was on hand, I turned to the kid next to me at the bar and said "I guarantee we lose this game. That loser will bring nothing but heartache and pain to the US squad." And I was right once again, as the US was terrible in central defense, and finishing upfront. Hell, even the goaltending was weak. Thanks to you Bill.

The kid I mentioned above, the one I was sitting next to during the match, is a flaming liberal Chapel Hill-type (I mentioned the kid on this blog back during college hoops season). Anyway, the kid told me that William Jefferson Blythe had visited with the US Soccer team after the big victory last Wednesday against Algeria. Evidently our disgraced ex-leader passed out cigars in the locker room to the celebrating US team. And I had a question for the liberal Chapel Hill kid at that point, as I asked: "Were the cigars that he passed out marinated in Monica Lewinsky's vagina ?"

That same kid I mentioned above (the Chapel Hill liberal) at one point responded to my mocking of Barack Hussein Obama during the match (I don't recall why I was mocking him exactly, as I mock old Barry so consistently I can't recall what I might be saying one minute to the next). Anyway, the kid said this, and in all seriousness this is telling, "Things are no worse now than when Bush was in charge." And I asked very politely if that was the big campaign promise that old Barry had used to sweep into power, you know - Vote for me and things won't be worse. They won't be better. But they won't be worse. As I recall, old Barry was promising change and hope. Or what some of us call chope. And now, just 17 months after his coronation, old Barry has been reduced to having some of his most ardent supporters defend him by saying he's no worse than old W.

Speaking of awesome liberals, the inventor of the Internet, and William Jefferson Blythe's 2nd in command, one Albert Arnold Gore, is back in the news. It seems that the inventor of the Internet was in Portland and hired a redheaded "masseuse" to give him a "rub down." Only this "masseuse" turned out to be an actual masseuse and refused to give Albert Arnold Gore the relief he was so desperately in need of. In other words, she wasn't down with happy endings. And Albert Arnold Gore was not happy with that. I'm sure all the other fake "masseuses" Albert Arnold Gore has hired over the years were more than happy to provide whatever deviant sexual practice required by our "global warming" guru. Now, this real masseuse is gonna step out and talk on the record (for money, no doubt) about something I've suspected for at least 18 years and maybe longer, that Albert Arnold Gore is a straight up sex freak and that Tipper could never keep up with his freaky needs. Tipper probably tried though. She gave it a shot. But I bet Albert Arnold Gore is so deviant and requires so much degrading attention that Tipper gave up some time ago and let him run to his hookers for his needs. Now, everything is out in the open and Albert Arnold Gore joins William Jefferson Blythe, The Tiger, & Marv Albert as national jokes. It's an interesting club to be a member of. I bet they hold meetings at a Hooters in the panhandle of Florida...

I keep seeing ads for this movie called Grown Ups. And it looks like it might be the stupidest piece of unwatchable garbage since the last David Spade movie. Oh, and that new Cruise movie, no thanks. I'll wait for more Les Grossman myself.

A Quick Note About The Dutch

Okay, real quick here on the World Cup before I get into today's post. Italy - good fucking riddance. As always, this blog almost wills results at times. Just the other day I was mocking them and then, Bam! They're out. Also, I also got a comment about my affinity for Dutch soccer from Dan. And maybe he's not aware of where my fixation with the Dutch comes from, as I don't know that we've ever had the conversation. But, in a name, it's Dennis Bergkamp. He's my favorite player ever. He led Arsenal to several great seasons in the EPL. And he could finish plays. When the Gunners had Bergkamp and Henry at the same time, look out... I urge everyone to go to YouTube and watch the goal Dennis Bergkamp scored in the 89th minute against Argentina in the 1998 World Cup Quarters. Breathtaking. And if anyone cares, I will be out at the Wing Joint on Battleground tomorrow at 2:30 for the USA/Ghana match. I will be pacing. I guarantee it. Pacing.

I know I mentioned getting to the thrust of this entry above. That's not gonna happen after all. I typed for like an hour. Hated it. And deleted it. Pointless. I'm not gonna try that again...

Blah, blah, blah...

Landon Fucking Donovan

A very telling piece of information has come out of some silly corruption trial featuring the disgraced ex-Governor of Illinois, a guy with a terrible haircut named Blow-go. Part of the trial involves the playing of tapes recorded in the Blow-go's office as he wheeled and dealed his way to being tossed out of office on his sleazy ass. At one point during these recordings, Blow-go admits to some lackey that our awesome, fake, power grabbing, freakish, throwing like a girl, socialist messiah, one Barack Hussein Obama, is "hen-pecked" by his monstrous looking wife. And I don't know these people, nor do I have any interest in making their acquaintance, but Blow-go's claim has a definite ring of truth to it. Old Barry being hen-pecked (and probably cuckolded as well) helps explains why he's more indecisive than Hamlet. Although, at least Hamlet had that hot sister. Old Barry just has half-brothers and half-sisters and cousins who all seem to be homeless paupers unable to catch a break in this random game of life.

Well, huge today. Just huge. USA got through to the knockout round of the World Cup. I was working and unable to see the match live. But, I got a number of texts letting me know the result and the kind folks back in the office kept me updated as the match progressed. Anyway, I was obviously thrilled and I was almost tempted to find someone to hug. But, then I thought better of that. Hugging people, that's disgusting. Obviously. Landon Donovan is now the athlete of the year. No one will ever forget what he's done over in the RSA. At least I won't. Nor should I. It is truly, for at least once, a great day to be alive.

My voice is aching, I'm tongue-tied

I am out - TBFH

A Frog Humiliates The Tiger

Is it me, or do the folks over at the MSNBC seems to have far more contempt for Bonus Penetration executives than they do for Al Qaeda? Bizarre. Very telling though.

Well, another wild US Open has come and gone. And there has been lots of hand wringing over the result. The argument basically is thus: if The Tiger doesn't win, then the course must be unfair because there's no way a guy like Graeme McDowell could legitimately end 4 rounds of golf 3 strokes better than His Majesty. I realize that casual golf watchers have no idea who McDowell is. But, he's no joke. The guy was good enough to play on the European Ryder Cup side. I wasn't too surprised the guy won. If you don't like the result of the tournament, fine. But don't cheapen McDowell's accomplishment by badmouthing the course or the set-up of the course. All the fellas were playing in the same conditions, right?

The really bad news for supporters of The Tiger is not how he played over the weekend. I was impressed for the most part. He's still the most talented player out there. No, the really bad news is that guys are no longer intimidated by The Tiger. The French dude playing with The Tiger, a cat named Havret, who is ranked just inside 400th in the world, totally outclassed The Tiger in the final round of a major. I think Y.E. Yang opened the door for everyone to not be scared shitless any longer when partnered with The Tiger when Yang won the PGA last August. And this French fellow is just the latest guy to prove my point. The mystique is fading for The Tiger. Having said that, it wouldn't surprise me in the least to see The Tiger right back in the winner's circle next month at St. Andrews.

I was watching the final round up at the Wing Joint on Battleground. And sure enough, everyone in the joint except me was rooting hard for The Tiger (to be fair, there were only like 6 guys paying any attention to it). And I enjoyed having The Tiger fans around, because I was mocking him mercilessly. I kept screaming "He really wants to ram it in the hole!" And "His grip is awfully tight around the shaft right now." And "He keeps thinking about the half a billion he's gonna have to pay Jesper Parnevik's nanny." It was a pleasant way to pass a Sunday evening. Dave, the #1 bartender in Greensboro, and the #1 fan of Glenn Beck on the planet, was laughing his ass off most of the night. I'm entertaining if nothing else.

Yesterday was some fake holiday called Father's Day. Anyway, I was asked by this woman if I was enjoying the day (this was at around 4 in the afternoon). And I said, "It's okay, I guess. Why?" And this broad said, "Do you have any kids?" And I was immediately reminded of what Andy always says when I am asked that question and he's nearby. Andy always says, "None that he knows of."

World Cup action is really heating up now. The matches the last several days were pretty exciting for the most part. And I will say that the New Zealand tie with Italy is one of the most shocking results I've ever seen. I enjoyed it. The only team in the world I despise more than the Italian National team is, you guessed it, the Duke Blue Devils. In fact here is my list of who I will root for in this World Cup:

1) USA

2) The Dutch

3) All teams from Africa, especially Ghana, Nigeria, Ivory Coast, & Cameroon

4) All South American teams except Argentina and Brazil

5) Spain

6) Portugal

7) Australia, New Zealand, Japan, and South Korea

8) France

9) Brazil

10) Honduras

11) England

12) The rest of Europe except Germany and Italy

13) Argentina

14) Germany

15) Mexico

16) North Korea

17) Italy

There you are, I would pull for the evil North Koreans over those whining, dirty tricksters from southern Europe. Despicable. Talented, but despicable.

All the hype movie-wise seems to be over something called Salt. Dave, Greensboro's top bartender and huge Glenn Beck supporter, has been talking about it non-stop recently. When I saw who's starring in the thing, I thought - well, that's something at least...

Wrestling With The Oil Spill

Note: I could not think of anyone famous named Delilah (with one pointless exception I will not get into). Anyway, when you google image the name Delilah, the porn star above is all that appears. Personally, I find her revolting. But, whatever...

This whole deal with the spilt baby oil in the Gulf of Mexico, Bonus Penetration, and Barack Hussein Obama seems to go on and on and on. I have been giving a lot of thought to the best way to clean up this mess (and by a lot of thought I mean that this is coming right off the top of my head). My idea would be to get some of the top oil wrestling skanks from some of the worst tittie flop bars in and around the greater Hickory metropolitan area, take them out to the middle of the oil spill on inflatable rafts, fix them in super-absorbent see-through leotards, dump them in the oily water, and let them wrestle around until all the spilt oil is magically absorbed into these see-through leotards. My guess is that if we can get a couple dozen of them out there participating in this relief effort, it will only be a few hours until the oil is gone, the water is fresh, and the girls smell like the infield at a NASCAR race. Hell, Bonus Penetration could put this oil wrestling event on Pay Per View and with the proceeds pay to have each oily pelican cleaned up by Tipper Gore using only the natural moisture from her vaginal juices. That's what a win win win is - except for the pelicans of course. They will get clean under this plan, but probably commit mass suicide after having their poor beaks rubbed around Tipper Gore's moist vulva. I guess it isn't all win win. But it's mostly win win. And then we won't have to here about this silly "catastrophe" any longer.

Some of the folks around the place where I occasionally turn up to work have been talking about boycotting Bonus Penetration for their role in this oil spill. And I try and stay out of these kinds of discussions. Nothing good can come of getting involved. Nothing. But I made an exception and told several of these folks that I have started exclusively using Bonus Penetration stations since I found out about this oil spill deal. Some of them had the nerve to think I was joking about exclusively using Bonus Penetration gas. But if you know me, you know that I'm dead serious. I don't care if Bonus Penetration charges $5 a gallon, I'm buying it. When one of these ignorant, but well-meaning, crazies I sometimes show up to work with asked me why I don't seem to care about the environment, I said, "Fuck the environment. What did the environment ever do for me?" There was no response to that.

I got a comment after yesterday's post where someone mentioned Hey There Delilah by Plain White T's. And there are a few folks who might have left the comment. I'm not sure who it was exactly. Anyway, the point is well taken. Because that song made me suicidal a few years ago when it seemed to be on in every bar every 5 minutes. I know Andy hates it too. I mean the kid hates it. We used to get up and walk outside wherever we were when it came on. Hey There Delilah is the most insipid piece of garbage I have heard in the past 10 years or more. It is that bad. If it ever comes on again, and I'm guessing it will, somewhere, sometime, I'm gonna start to scream.

Another commenter mentioned Shabooh Shoobah by INXS. And I wholeheartedly agree that it is a great album with a number of really good tunes, mainly Don't Change and The One Thing, obviously. Both brilliant.

Of course, I get a little melancholy when I put on an INXS CD, even 12 years or however long it's been since Michael Hutchence died. Poor bastard. We still have the music though. And that's something.

Of course, you could argue that I get a little melancholy over lots of things nobody else in the world seems to care about.

You're too pretty in the daylight

It keeps them coming back for more

A Pointless List Of Songs I Like Immensely

I got a comment on this blog few weeks back concerning the post where I mocked, at some length, the Rolling Stone magazine article about the top 500 singles of all time. In the comment, the commenter asked what my suggestions would be as far as what I considered the top singles. And that's a really tough question. I can't really think of any way to rank songs that makes any sense. By its nature, such a list is entirely subjective and wholly dependant on the tastes of the person making up such a list. So, I've spent some time jotting down some songs the last week or so. Now, this is NOT a list of the best songs ever, per se. Instead, what I decided to do is just randomly list, not in any particular order, songs I really think a lot of, but songs that weren't ever big hit singles and are almost never heard on the radio. What follows is the best response I could come up with based on that comment left a few weeks ago. For those of you who have spent a considerable amount of time with me over the years, this list will be very familiar to you, as I've gone on and on about many of these songs, sometimes, admittedly, ad nauseam. I don't have any suggestions for what exactly to do with this list, other than if there is something below unfamiliar to anyone, give it a listen. Oh, also I think the following songs would all make a great addition to any IPod deal thingy. The only rule I held myself to was only 1 song per artist. If I didn't do that, I'd be reduced to saying something like - Listen to Murmur over and over...Here we go. Again, in no particular order ---

Oasis - Some Might Say

PIL - Seattle

Nirvana - On A Plain

Prince - The Pope

Replacements - Bastards Of Young

Paul Westerberg - World Class Fad

Smashing Pumpkins - Mayonnaise

U2 - One Tree Hill

Liz Phair - Fuck And Run

Pixies - Monkey Gone To Heaven

Sinead O'Connor - The Emperor's New Clothes

David Bowie - Queen Bitch

Police - So Lonely

Morrissey - Suedehead

XTC - Senses Working Overtime

Sundays - Here's Where The Story Ends

Crowded House - Locked Out

Matthew Sweet - Sick Of Myself

REM - Sitting Still

B-52's - Bushfire

Breeders - Cannonball

Tears For Fears - Goodnight Song

INXS - Listen Like Thieves

Inspiral Carpets - Commercial Reign

Blur - Girls And Boys

10,000 Maniacs - Hey Jack Kerouac

Go-Go's - Head Over Heels

Steely Dan - Kid Charlemagne

Paul McCartney - My Brave Face

Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart

New Order - Regret

Nick Lowe - So It Goes

Psychedelic Furs - Highwire Days

The Jam - That's Entertainment

Talking Heads - Girlfriend Is Better (Live)

Cheap Trick - Surrender (Live)

Cracker - Teen Angst

Weezer - Hash Pipe

Smiths - Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before

A few bonus cover songs ---

Hindu Love Gods - Raspberry Beret

Lemonheads - Luka

Mr T Experience - Can't Get There From Here

Everybody loves to dance around my heat and fire--->

The Drunk Multi-Stained Shirt Broad Who Doesn't Teach Sex Ed To 2nd Graders Walks Into The Bar

I was wandering around Battleground Saturday night about 11 or so and staggered into some bar called Ass Traps. I wasn't planning on staying too long. The place was full of freaks, as out on the patio area there was some half-assed Cornhole tournament. And if there is one thing I will mock above all else it's Cornhole (well Cornhole or The Tiger, one of the two...). I've never understood the allure of the "game." At all. Anyway, I went inside the bar and ran into my buddy Big Dave in there. And Big Dave immediately warned me about some pitiful woman at the bar, dead drunk and babbling about various stains on her white top. I didn't think much of it. About an hour went by and Big Dave and I were hanging out, downing a few beers and shots of that new coffee flavored Patron. Anyway, we went up to the bar at some point to order another round. And that's when I found myself next to the drunk broad with the multi-stained shirt. The woman decides to start talking to me. And I was just in the mood. So, I started mocking her. Badly. I told her my name was Jack, Jack Mamma. She didn't laugh. I told her I was a virgin - still waiting for the right girl to come into my life. She didn't laugh. I told her I was from Djibouti (something I've been doing quite a bit lately). She didn't laugh. She told me that she was from Saginaw, Michigan. I said, "Of course you are." She told me other things. I wasn't listening. Then at some point this nasty, stained shirt broad from Saginaw, Michigan told me she was a 2nd grade teacher. I quickly asked this question - "Sex Ed?" She said no. Then things got interesting. Because I went into great detail about why 2nd grade is precisely the time that young girls most need to get vital sex ed info. Big Dave was roaring with laughter. Now, down the bar about 4 seats was a girl who appeared to be around 30. She started listening to my alcohol fueled rant. While the stained shirt Michigan skank was generally oblivious to almost everything I was saying (remember, she was dead drunk), this other girl down the bar seemed to be getting very upset for some reason. At one point this girl down the bar asked me if I was serious. I said, "Of course. Dead serious." And then this woman got very upset. I mean she was threatening to have me tossed out. And then Big Dave got down on the floor, pounding his fist onto the linoleum (or whatever it was), and laughing as hard as I've ever seen anyone laugh. He kept saying, in between the fits of laughter, "She thinks you're serious. She really believes you!" Well, it turns out that I did not get thrown out. I've hung out with the manager of Ass Traps a few times. Instead of me getting thrown out, the uptight broad down the way got up, demanded her boyfriend or whoever get up, and walked out of Ass Traps with a strident gait. Big Dave kept laughing. And the drunk, stupid, ridiculous broad from Saginaw, Michigan just sat there, looking confused and picking at the stains on her white top. I got up to go after about 15 more minutes. I told the Saginaw skank this as I took my leave, "You might be the ugliest girl I've met in the last hour." Then I strode out of there. I might go back. You never know...

I've been hearing the same silly statements about soccer the past few days that I've been hearing every 4 years that the The World Cup has been held since 1990. The general gist of these arguments is that soccer is a sissy game, a boring game, a stupid waste of time, and that soccer is way beneath the average American sport fan's attention. It's pointless to argue with these people. But my advice to these folks is - don't watch it. I have zero interest in NASCAR and every sport played by women (except tennis). But my way around my issues with these pastimes is to ignore them as best I can. If you don't like soccer, fine. Whatever. I find it to be the most compelling sport to watch outside of the NFL. But, if you don't feel that way, could you at least say nothing about it, instead of droning on ignorantly about it??? Thanks...

I was looking at something here recently that helped confirm some opinions I'd vaguely held for about 20 years. Now, I'm not a scholar, of anything. I was always an indifferent student. The only thing that got me remotely interested in any class was when I could provoke someone who fervently held some view (teacher, professor, student) for some reason. Anyway, in the course of half-assed attaining my degree in History back at TOSU (I was even more half-assed in attaining my degree in English, obviously), I came to have very negative feelings about FDR and mixed feelings about Churchill. Well, the piece I was looking over here recently confirms, with devastating clarity and using meticulous research, that FDR was nothing more than a warmonger at heart. And Churchill might well have been a complete sociopath. Neither of them, when you get down to it, is all that different from Hitler. The key difference is that they won. Other than that,...If you've got a big problem with what I'm saying, I can understand that. Just pick up a copy of the book Human Smoke by Nicholson Baker. Or better yet, don't. You'll come away feeling sick to your stomach. At least you should. Please note that I am in no way making any admission to having actually read this book. As always, reading is for suckers. I stand by that mantra yet again.

Speaking of WWII and Nazis and such, they were showing Judgment at Nuremberg on the old TCM the other day. It had been over 20 years since I'd seen it. And it's a little heavy handed, to say the least. But pretty interesting. Old Monty Clift, he doesn't look too hot in his lone scene, but he's still very good. The performance I was most struck by was by Maximilian Schell, as the guy was stone cold genius in the film.

Speaking of Monty Clift, I've always thought the poor guy would have been better off of he'd actually died in that car crash he had in the mid-50s. Because after that, the guy wasn't himself anymore. He looked different. He lost something. I'm not sure exactly. But if you go back and watch him in From Here To Eternity or A Place In The Sun (both films are before his car crash), he might have been the best actor alive. Clift is right up there with Jimmy Cagney and Robert Downey Jr. as my favorites.

Speaking of From Here To Eternity, it does feature the girl from that movie with Uncle Billy and Clarence The Crazy Angel. And that's a good thing, because she was mind-numbingly hot.

You could wait for a lifetime

To spend your days in the sunshine

Okay, I'm out.

USC Gets Bushwhacked

It's not like me to lash out at someone when he's down. But Pete Carroll has made that impossible. Carroll is either a liar or delusional or incompetent. It has to be 1 of the 3. Because if you take what he's saying about the NCAA sanctions against USC (something I predicted on this blog some time ago, and I was right yet again), Carroll can't come across as anything but 1 of the 3. I suspect he's a liar, why did he suddenly bolt for the Seahawks now? He turned down NFL overtures for the last several years. Could it be because he knew how bad the infractions were and wanted to get out why the getting was good? Seems likely. Maybe Carroll is delusional (something I know a little about) and has convinced himself that all the cheating never really happened and that Reggie Bush and his family weren't living way beyond their means when Bush at USC. It's possible. The last option is incompetent. And that I don't see. Carroll is way too bright and good at what he does to have had no idea this cheating was going on. That's tough to swallow. More than just Carroll and his coaching legacy are affected by these findings and sanctions. Reggie Bush doesn't look any worse in my eyes, as I'd assumed he was taking improper benefits since the story 1st broke way back in 2006 or whenever. But others may now view Bush differently. I have no idea how to punish him. Some are saying take away his Heisman. But that's silly. Bush should have given his Heisman to Vince Young after that game in the Rose Bowl where Texas beat USC for the BCS Title. If Bush didn't surrender it then, I don't know why he should now. As for the ESPN hype machine that built up USC every Saturday on GameDay and then every SportsCenter throughout every week for the past 7 years - I mock you again. They should apologize for being dupes. But I bet they won't. ESPN never does. As far as the 2004 Title being "vacated," that's just stupid. As far as Tommy Tuberville wanting a re-vote from that 2004 season, get over it, move on, that smacks of sour grapes. And lastly, that moron Lane Kiffin. This whole debacle couldn't have fallen into a more appropriate lap. USC will recover at some point from these sanctions (probably not until 2013 at the earliest though) & all their bandwagon jumping fans across the country can pile back on then. Just remember Trojan fans, you jumped on a cheating bandwagon, no one made you - now take your mockery like men. The thing about it is, for me at least, I don't take any great pleasure from hearing all this. It's kind of sad if you think about it. Except for OJ, the fact he's lamenting these sanctions from behind bars is funny. Really funny. I do get a kick out of that thought. If the glove fits...

As far as The Corn People joining the Big 10, I don't get it. At all. Who needs them??? They haven't been relevant in football for over 10 years (back when Lawrence Phillips was bashing coeds' heads into mailboxes), have never been relevant in hoops, & have a population of almost nil. Stupid move by the Big 10. Stupid. The Corn wouldn't have been in my top 10 choices for expansion.

Joe Biden Pulls Out His Gun

I saw where our awesome fearless socialist toady leader, the one and only Barack Hussein Obama, was in the wonderfully cosmopolitan city of Kalamazoo, Michigan recently. While there, old Barry decided to drop in on the local high school's commencement ceremony for some reason. Maybe to praise these graduates for staying in school and entering the horrible Michigan job market with nothing more than a worthless public school diploma. Whatever the motivation for the visit, it didn't go very well for old Barry. One of the choir members behind him on the stage (a chubby brother looking bored to tears and no doubt longing for some Church's chicken) fell asleep during the inspiring address from old Barry. I'm a bit envious of the kid, because instead of being outraged at whatever jive old Barry was chucking at the audience, this sleeping beauty brother was blissfully paying no attention whatsoever. I just hope the kid doesn't end up in Gitmo sharing a cell with Vera Baker.

Speaking of this alleged mistress of old Barry's, I have no idea if he's nailed her or not. Nor do I care. Whatever. But, if it is true, I do continue to question old Barry's taste in women. I mean to each his own. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Blah, blah, blah. Having said that, I have noted before on this blog (at least twice) that I find Mrs. Barack Hussein Obama to resemble James Harrison in drag. And as for this Vera Baker character, she strikes me as what Don Imus very crudely and completely classlessly referred to as a nappy headed ho. Again, if old Barry wants to run around on his old lady, I say: Rock on, dude. Cool. But isn't he remotely attracted to hot women??? It's baffling to me. With his power and the fawning of the leftist freaks in the country still at a fever pitch, one would assume that at the snap of a finger Barry could get with a sister like Thandie Newton. Instead he's settling for women who more closely resemble Shirley from What's Happening!

Although, come to think of it, there have been other articles in the rags at the grocery store check-out lanes that have claimed that Barack Hussein Obama dabbles from time to time in the mysterious art of butt-cowboyism. And as bad as Shirley from What's Happening! might be, she's a damn sight better than Fred Berry...

I also saw where there was some water gun battle between Joe Biden and Rahm Emanuel the other day. I'm not sure if Rahm got hit very often by Joe Biden's water gun. But if he did get drenched to the core by Joe Biden's water gun, it's a much better fate than being drenched by the ejaculate flying out of Joe Biden's medically aided massively erect boner.

This is a very crude post.

I was sitting near a guy back during one of the games of the Orlando/Boston series a couple weeks ago and this guy (who I will not embarrass by identifying by name) claimed that he thought that JJ Redick was the best 6th man in the NBA. After laughing for a solid minute, I realized that this guy was serious. And while you could argue that Redick has become a nice complementary piece for the Magic this season, to put him in the same league as the NBA's best 6th men is a joke. Here are the numbers for this past season: 9.6 pts. 1.9 asts. & 40.5% from 3. Again, respectable. But here, for example, are Jamal Crawford's numbers this season: 18 pts. 3 asts. & 38.5% from 3. Case closed. Anyway, talk then turned to what a great college player Redick was. And if by great, you mean a choker in the biggest games for the Devils over his career, then yes, Redick was beyond great. For example:

2003 NCAA Regional Semi's against Kansas: 2 for 16 from the floor.

2004 NCAA Final 4 against UConn: 4 for 12 from the floor.

2005 NCAA Regional Semi's against Mich St: 4 for 14 from the floor.

2006 NCAA Regional Semi's against LSU: 3 for 18 from the floor.

There you go, that's the definition of greatness - in the 4 biggest games of his college career, JJ Redick shot a ghastly 13 for 60. That's 21.7% I don't know what else to say...

The sun shines out of our behinds.

The Pantieless Fire Breather From Philly Walks Into The Bar

Note - This might be the greatest photo ever taken in the history of the known universe.



I'm doing something very unusual right now - and a 1st for this stupid, pointless blog. I am blogging and watching the awesomely awful Cable News Channels at the same time. Here we go...Oh boy...Olbermann is pissed on the MSNBC...Flip...Serpent Head is pissed on CNN...Flip...The Pinhead Guy is also pissed on The Roger Ailes Network...It's so unwatchably stupid. Why are all these people so angry??? They keep talking about BP (which I believe stands for Bonus Penetration) and this "host" on the MSNBC seems, you guessed it, to be blaming this disaster on old W. I'm not sure who is buying this silliness exactly. But some sector of way left folks must be. These people are gonna keep blaming W for everything bad for the next 100 years or longer... Flip...The Roger Ailes Network again and the Pinhead Guy is doing his tired old gig as well. He's ripping immigrants or something...Flip...Over at CNN, some News Babe is babbling about the Bonus Penetration Scandal in the Gulf with some "expert." This crap never changes. All 3 networks suck...I feel disgusted...I'm flipping back to sports...Okay, much better. I gotta go for a smoke...





Well, that experiment failed spectacularly, didn't it???





I saw a movie recently called Drag Me To Hell. And it wasn't bad at all. Silly, yes. Scary, not exactly. But it was all done tongue-in-cheek. It's worth wasting your time on if you're bored some night. I'm not the biggest Sam Raimi fan in the world. I never got into Army Of Darkness or Evil Dead too much. But he's pretty talented. I admit that.





Well, it looks like things were heating up over the weekend out at a private pool party here in the Gate City. The GM of The Wing Joint on Battleground had a get together. And I stayed away. But I got a text from Greensboro's favorite bartender, Dave (Glenn Beck's #1 fan), and he was in a bit of a pickle evidently. Dave found himself at this "party" for some reason and was trying to stay away from the sex dungeon masquerading as a shed near the pool. Rumor has it that men are humiliated, tortured, and generally made to feel cuckolded out in said shed. I think this GM may have Dave on her hit list as far as being strung up by chains, gagged with with one of those plastic ball deals, nipples clamped, and scrotum anchored down by glass milk bottles. It's not my scene, but to each his own. I don't pass judgment...I mock though. I do mock.





There's a ton of hype for some young pitching phenom who will be making his MLB debut tomorrow for Les Expos. And I have no idea if the kid will be any good or not. I do wonder if Geilfuss will be out front of the ballpark with a homemade jersey touting this kid and incorrectly spelling the word "devastated" as "devasted." One can only hope...One other interesting note about this whole build up for the new Les Expos pitcher is this, there was a guy drafted 7 or 8 spots BEHIND the hyped fireballer last season. His name is Mike Leake. And without the nauseating ESPN driven hype-machine silliness excessively making him sound Messiah-esque, Leake has gone 5-0 with a WHIP of 1.23 for the National League Ball Club based out of Cincinnati, Ohio. Oh, and Leake never pitched an inning in the minors, at least not yet. Just something to keep in mind...





The Phillie Phanatic is on right now and I know I've mentioned this before on this stupid blog, but if you don't love the Phillie Phanatic, I can't help you. He may be the only good thing produced in Philly since the Constitution (and yes, I'm including the terrible Hall & Oates, moronic Danny Bonaduce, way out nut-job Bill Cosby, and Scientology freak Will Smith in this "debate"). Of course, the way old Barry and his boys seem so eager to trash the Constitution, who knows how much longer it might have any relevance???





Speaking of Philly, there was a fire-eater from Philly who stopped into The Wing Joint On Battleground one night last week. I believe she was in town to "perform" at some pig pickin' in Jamestown. Anyway, this fiery redhead who played with fire was terribly annoying. In fact, after she had shown me her camera full of pictures for the 3rd time (and these pictures were mostly of her at some "show" half-naked, all tatted up, begging for tips from lonely guys from Delaware...), I was so annoyed that I turned her over to some creepy dude to my right at the bar. Dave (the Glenn Beck fan, the bartender, you remember) seemed to be so intrigued by this Fire Woman from Philly throughout the night, that at one point he commented on how fetching he found her. And I don't totally blame Dave either. Because while this Philly Fire Girl was annoying as all hell, she was hoisting her tits out there. That, and going sans-panties. I could tell that because every time she leaned forward (and she did so often) about half her ass-crack was exposed. No one ever said Dave didn't like them trashy. And this Fire Breathing Tatted Up Pantieless Chick from Philly was certainly trashy. I'll say that for her.





Okay, I was gonna cover the golf, but I'll try and get to that next time.





Why do you come here
When you know it makes things hard for me?





That's it for me, I am out.

Imagine Still Sucks

I've mentioned not following the news too closely a number of times. And just today I saw something that is a perfect example of why that is, or why that be, if you prefer. It seems that one of my very favorites ever, Paul McCartney, stooped to playing some gig for Barack Hussein Obama and his flunkies in the White House. Now, 1st, I highly doubt that old Barry is any sort of McCartney fan at all. He strikes me as more of a Whitney Houston, Celine Dion, NKOTB, Chicago, Keith Sweat, The Weather Girls, or Journey kind of guy. Something cheesy and terrible. I bet old Barry couldn't tell us the most rudimentary things about The Beatles, Paul McCartney, John Lennon, or whatever. Although, come to think of it, I bet his favorite Beatles tune is Taxman. It stands to reason. But, I'm guessing someone in the White House is a huge fake Beatles fan and bathed in the power that the Oval Office wields, while duping McCartney into performing. I didn't read the details of the show, nor will I. But whatever went down, it does go to show that someone even as great a genius as Paul McCartney can fall victim to old Barry's jive. I give the guy a pass. He doesn't know any better. There's no way he could. Again, it goes to show why ignoring the news is always the best bet. Because inevetably, you here something that depresses you beyond words.

I've mentioned this once before on this blog in passing, but I did see Paul McCartney in 2002 in Raleigh, North By God Carolina. The tickets were $180. And worth every dime. I enjoyed it almost beyond description. When old Macca launched into Hello Goodbye to start the show, I was pretty much crying uncontrollably. That's how happy I was. And remember, I was a 31 year old me. And it had been 36 years since The Beatles last concert at Candlestick. That's how much I like the guy. In fact, I've argued, from to time, that Paul McCartney is the greatest human being born in the 20th century. And I wasn't kidding, maybe slightly drunk, but not kidding. It's either him or Claudia Schiffer, obviously.

I got a text not too long ago from someone inquiring if I was gonna make it out to Ramada on Loch Raven for some event or other. The thing is that no name come up with the text. So, it couldn't have been from anyone who I'd want to hang out with up in the town Elaine Benes is from, because all of those folks (many of whom read this blog on a regular basis) are logged into my phone by name. So, all I can fugure is that the infamous Boobie (the balding fat woman who runs the awful trivia) got a hold of my cell number at some point over the years and randomly invited me to something or other. I know she talked to me once about being a judge for the terrible version of American Idol they do in the Spring with the karaoke machine. And I turned her down flat. Even if every beer were free the entire time, there's no way I could sit through that garbage. Those singers are beyond putrid (both in talent and appearance). Anyway, I don't think Boobie has this blog address, but if the Jacobys or whoever are ever in the vicinity of the Ramada on Loch Raven some Thursday or Saturday evening, could you please stop in and tell Boobie that I'm dead or in rehab. Thanks. I'll owe you one. Oh, and tell Putrid Breath the same thing. If you're not sure which one is Putrid Breath, the way to fugure it out is by inhaling. Whichever direction the foulest stench you've ever experienced is coming from, just head that way, because that will be Putrid Breath. Guaranteed.

I heard from Brandon last weekend. The kid was down in Charlotte for the NASCAR race (although I think he was actually in Rock Hill). Anyway, he butt dialed me at about 1:30 Friday night. So I listened to the voice mail that was left in the aftermath of this butt-dialing. And for the life of me I thought he was calling from a war zone. Either a war zone or a showing of Star Whores, Episode 1: The Fainting Man Ass (that movie is just odd noises bouncing all over the place - terrible). Either way. Well I dialed Brandon back just to be sure everything was copacetic. And he picked right up. I asked, "Where the hell are you?" He answered, "Kylie & I are cosmic bowling." And I said, "Oh...that explains it. Have fun."

I saw where Rolling Stone has come out with an issue that counts down the 500 best songs ever recorded. And I realize that this kind of list is subjective. But, I was still aghast at some of the crap they rated way up on the list. The most egregious mistake was putting Imagine by John Lennon #3. The song is stupid. And communist as well, but whatever, I don't have an issue if Lennon was a commie. It's barely even a song. I guess it makes some people think or contemplate a better world or something do-goody like that. And if you get inspired to be a better person listening to Imagine by John Lennon, then please stop reading this blog. I LIKE John Lennon, a lot. But I can think of at least 50, no 100, other songs that are infinitely better than Imagine. In My Life? I Am The Walrus? A Day In The Life? #9 Dream? Nobody Told Me? Whatever Gets You Through The Night? Help? Hey, Hey Bulldog? A Hard Day's Night? Rain? I could go and on. I'm not even including any Beatles songs that were written by Paul McCartney that Lennon helped on to various degrees. Also, the Stones have the #2 slot on this not very prestigious Rolling Stone list. And I like the Stones fine. Whatever. But Satisfaction? Are you serious??? That's one of the silliest, most cliched pieces of garbage played on the Classic Rock stations around the country. Again, there are dozens of better Stones songs. Hell, I like Mixed Emotions more than Satisfaction. This whole list thing is tiring.

On the positive side for Rolling Stone, they did have a few newer songs on the list. And yes, one of them was Hey Ya! They have it at #182. And I say, Lend Me Some Suga', I Am Your Neighbor.

I am out ----->

Crying Over Spilt Baby Oil

I went into some super-shitty dive bar last week called IUD (it's on Lawndale, and for what it's worth, the few women in the joint at the time did not appear to be the biggest fans of IUDs or any other birth control method, short of "pull out and come on my titties, baby!"). Anyway, Greensboro's favorite bartender, Dave (the Glenn Beck fanatic), wanted to drop in the IUD to see some bar wench he nailed back in the 8th Grade. A gal named Crystal Meth. And it appears that maybe this Crystal Meth has been partaking in some crystal meth from time to time, as she looked, as our buddy Big Dave (Big Dave managed to make it to IUD with Dave and me) put it, "Rode hard and hung up wet." Well, the 3 of us walked into the joint and immediately this crystal using Crystal runs up to Dave and gives him a big hug. I was sickened. After the hug, Crystal (the only employee working at the time in the IUD) made the 3 of us sign in as "guests" because the IUD is "members only," an absurd term that all bars in Greensboro have to go by if they serve alcohol only, no food. The membership rules at these places are almost never enforced, at least as near as I've ever been able to tell. The infamous Playas on W Market is also "members only" and I've been in there 300 times over the years and never been asked for a membership card or even been made to sign in as a "guest." The only time I've ever seen any bar staff ask anyone for their "membership" is when some undesirable came into the joint and they wanted to get rid of whoever quickly. But this nasty Crystal Meth girl made me, Big Dave, and Dave sign in at IUD as "guests" (for what it's worth, I signed in as Jerry Seinfeld, and promptly told both Daves that I always wanted to pretend to be Jewish - they DID laugh). Then we ordered 3 beers and that's when I kind of took in the place's ambiance. Or should I say I took in the place's complete lack of ambiance. Big Dave and I bolted for the back patio to give Dave a chance to do work on his long lost 8th Grade ho. It was back on that patio that I decided, while chatting with a redneck who brought his Pit Bull to the bar (the dog was named Buck, but, yes, you guessed it, this Buck sported a royal blue elastic collar that had DUKE written in white letters - the rednecks love the Devils), that the 3 of us were staying for 1 beer and then high-tailing out of there. About 10 minutes passed and Dave came out to the patio and I said, "Drink up. We're going." And I gotta hand it to Dave. He was in total agreement. I think even Dave was repulsed by what his Middle School skank had become. We walked back through the bar on our way out and that's when I saw something I have never seen before in a bar - EVER. There were 4 or 5 grown ass men sitting on bar stools, drinking away on a Monday night at about 10:30, watching professional wrestling on the TV in the corner. I am not kidding. I almost passed out from fits of hysterical laughter. As the 3 of us were driving away from the IUD, I asked Dave if he planned on going back and visiting Crystal Meth again. He said he didn't think so. I asked him if it was because Crystal Meth had become some nasty skank over the years. Then Dave said, "That's part of it. But mainly I don't want to see her again because she told me she fucks guys in the office during work hours." I said, "Oh...okay. She does look like the type. You gotta admit that." Then we dropped the whole subject. I think a little piece of Dave and his innocence may have died right then. For once, I can honestly report that in the case of the IUD, I am NOT planning on going back. What a fucking nightmare.

I was sitting one night out front of the Wing Joint on Battleground smoking (not dope or anything) with a new reader of this blog, a pretty cool girl named Tracy. And she asked me how much of what I write on this blog is true. And I told Tracy the same thing I told Mary way back in December 2008 about this blog - "It's as true as you want it to be." It really is.

I managed to catch the finale of The Search For America's Most Competent Karaoke Singer last week. Now, I hadn't watched it since early February. So, I had no idea who the 2 finalists were. Nor did I care. Some odd looking paint salesmen won the thing. Whatever. The thing that fascinated me was that my man William Hung did perform on the show. In fact, William Hung performed Pants On The Ground with the Pants On The Ground Guy. And I want to report that William Hung was awesome as always. Sheer genius. He mangled the words terribly. It just goes to show that what I've been saying for 6 years holds true - No one is hung like William Hung. Also, the group Chicago "performed" on the show. And they were beyond terrible. The whole spectacle was ridiculous. I don't think anyone is gonna watch it next year. The British guy who needs to buy bigger T-Shirts is leaving the show and unless they get Dick Cheney or Khalid Sheikh Mohammed to be the new judge, I have no interest in the show at all.

Someone told me that Gary Coleman passed away recently. When I heard this I asked, "What you talkin' bout Phyllis?"

It seems like things have been pretty quiet on the news front recently. I have no idea what old Barry and his band of merry socialists have been getting into lately. But I did hear one interesting tidbit about some oil spill off the coast of Louisiana that happened a few weeks ago. I heard that old Barry and his minions have been unable to do anything to stop it. Which is terrible, but also ironic. Because I recall a few years ago when old W took a beating from old Barry and his ilk over the slow response to that hurricane that hit in 2005. I mean, they crucified old W. And while seeing this damage go on and on is not good, there might be a "teachable moment" here for old Barry and his crew of commie sympathizers, that lesson is: Be careful before ripping a guy for circumstances beyond his control, because when the shoe is on the other foot, you're open to the same damn criticism. Once again, I'm tempted to label this Poetic Justice.

Speaking of this oil spill, when I first heard about it, I asked the bearer of the news this: "Baby or Olive?"

Well, I have been terribly derelict the past few months in getting posts up about the NBA Playoffs. I blame work. I've been busy as hell. Anyway, the Finals are here. And I'm still surprised that Boston flipped the switch and went back in time 2 years, except this time Rajon Rondo is one of the 5 best point guards in the NBA. The Magic missed Terkoglu more than they expected I guess. And Rashard Lewis disappeared at times. And Vince Carter was terrible. Blah, blah, blah...I wasn't the least bit surprised that Cleveland fell short again. I just didn't think it would be to Boston. In the West, the Lakers never got the series that I think they might have lost - to Dallas, as the Spurs did the rest of the West's dirty work, then promptly got swept by Phoenix. And the Suns did not have the bodies to keep LA off the glass consistently. They did give a valiant effort though. I'll give them that. As far as the Finals, Boston's defense will be tougher than anything LA has seen in 2 years (since the last Finals meeting). I expect to see some physical hoops during the series. I really do. My thoughts on the series as a whole are this: if the Lakers can get the 1st two at home, I like their chances immensely. But I have a suspicion that Boston might have something for the Lakers in game 1. Game 5 will be the key if that happens. If the series comes back to LA 3-2 Boston, then there's only one way LA can prevail - riding Kobe Fucking Bryant. It should be great theater. And the hoops should be good as well.

Lastly here today, I was flipping by the TMZ here recently and they had video of the chick from Friends on holiday at some beach resort. It was something...

Rust never sleeps

I am out - TBFH