Jump On It! Jump On It!

I will most likely not be participating in Halloween shenanigans tonight. I'd be down like Charlie Brown if there were some good house parties going on, but I can't stand going to bars dressed up in a Halloween costume. It's one thing to try and sniff random girls' hair at the bar on any random night (I've found Tuesdays are best) but when you do it on Halloween, when the girl turns to yell at you and/or slap you across the face, suddenly you become a lot more aware that she's dressed as Raggedy Ann (a slutty Raggedy Ann, of course) and you're in a full Jedi costume. Just a lot more awkwardness involved.

But if I was going out, though- I'm pretty sure my costume would be the legendary Tommy Seebach, he of The Tommy Seebach Band fame. Even though nobody would know who he is and I'd have to explain myself a million times (another one of the things I hate about Halloween: "Who are you supposed to be? Ohhhh that's hilarious/cute/creative/original/slutty!!!." Blah blah blah. Can we just get drunk?) it would be worth it, because of how awesome he is:


And if it was still the Culligan days, can't you just see Paul dressed up as the drummer in the background on the left? I feel like he could totally pull that off, as long as I gave him 18 months' advance notice to grow that moustache.

I'm sure I've linked to this a million times; since, you know, it's the greatest music video of all time (if you can even call it a 'video').....but once more couldn't hurt. I'm pretty sure that there's something in my DNA that makes me susceptible to the beat in Apache, and I've been subconsciously brianwashed. Between this version, the commonly-known Sugarhill Gang version, the Sir-Mix-A-Lot version, and the other instrumental versions I've downloaded (including one that sounds like it's being played by a bunch of Native Americans sitting around a campfire) I'm up to like six different types of Apache in my iPod, and I still can't get enough of it. Best song in human history.

This is neither here nor there, but a girl told me the other day that I should totally dress up as Terry from Reno 911 for Halloween. She meant it as a compliment, that I do a good Nick Swardson impression, but still...I don't think there's any way that being told you could easily pull off a homosexual prostitute who exclusively wears roller skates and nut-huggers can ever be called a good thing. But I'll take it.




Everyone have a happy Halloween. Guys, take advantage of the evening. Ladies.....keep, uhhh....keep doin' what you're doin.

Damn Punk Kids, Updated

OK so that kid making fun of me for being old is all in the past. Yesterday, in a scene that would have been touching if it wasn't so hilarious, he asked another co-worker, with a straight face:

"What's it like to wake up in the morning with a girl?"

The facial expression he made immediately after asking the question reminded me of Paul from back in the day, when he would start saying something, and before he even finished the sentence, he knew it was a mistake, and knew he was about to get made fun of for the rest of the lunch hour (and in some cases, well into the next decade.)

His second mistake was that there happened to be a lot of us in the vicinity when he asked it. So it's been non-stop ball-busting since then. Here's a sampling of some of our responses:

"It's awesome....until she rolls over and tells you that at $50 an hour, you now owe her $350. Cash."

"Well, you'd have to ask your mom how she felt about it, but personally I felt it was great..."

"I'm waiting to wake up in the morning with a girl until I'm married..."

"I wouldn't know, the only time I've woken up with a girl is when I've passed out in the VIP room at a strip club."


...you get the point. So basically, all the boom roasted points this kid had scored with his Top Gun zinger are now gone. Completely.

Stupid youngsters don't know anything about women. Poor little guys.

Being old is awesome.

Damn Punk Kids

So the other day I'm in the pro shop with an 18-year-old co-worker, and it's raining outside, so we're looking for a good movie to help pass the time. As we're flicking through the channels, we stumble across Top Gun. Bingo. I exclaim my excitement, and when I realize that it's not being shared by my counterpart (I'm an idea man. I thrive on enthusiasm) I stop and we have this exchange:

Me: "What, you don't like Top Gun?"

J-Sak: "Well, I haven't really seen it...."

Me: "What?!?! How have you never seen Top Gun? It's a classic!"

J-Sak: "Whatever, I haven't seen the whole thing. I watched some of it and it sucked so I changed the channel. Sorry I wasn't born in 1970, man."


Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. WHOA.

Now, I can ignore the fact that he said the movie sucked. As we've talked about before, Top Gun can be a questionable piece of cinema sometimes. However, saying that it "sucks" is a completely blasphemous statement. But that's fine, anyone who was still in kindergarten when Jerry Maguire came out, and whose first Tom Cruise movie was most likely Mission Impossible 3, probably isn't going to appreciate Top Gun. I can live with that.

However.

The part I'm more interested in is that 1970 zinger he threw at me. To my recollection, this is the first time in my life that I've legitimately been ripped on for being old. It staggered me a little bit when he hit me with it, because I had absolutely no comeback for it. (I mean, I could've unloaded on him for not knowing the lyrics to "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin", but that suddenly seemed irrelevant, considering the new direction this conversation had taken.)

I've been noticing plenty of signs recently that I have, indeed, been getting older: playing slow-pitch softball now requires a vigorous stretching session beforehand, even though I play first base; I frown upon shotgunning a beer before 10 a.m.; and I can watch the Nine Inch Nails video for "Closer" without having nightmares for a month (they usually only last a couple nights now.)

And I've been making plenty of jokes about it. Let's face facts: we're not getting any younger, and we've got the 36-hour hangovers to prove it. But it's the principle of the whole thing. I'm allowed to make fun of myself for getting old, but when those same jokes come from a senior in high school.....fuck that. It's like when someone is stuck in a bad relationship for months and months, and all he does is talk crap about his girlfriend, and then when they finally break up, and all his buddies are like "Finally, dude, it's about time. I always hated that chick, she was never right for you" and then the guy gets all pissed and starts defending her. It's just different when someone else says it.

So this kid just received his free pass. But if he even THINKS about talking crap about Cocktail, we're gonna have problems.



The number of top 5 lists I could do about this movie is just ridiculous. Best one-liners, best songs off the soundtrack, best freeze frames of Elisabeth Shue's side boob when they're swimming under the waterfall.....someday. Someday.

Kill Screen Coming Up, If You're Interested

>> Well, kids, the jig is up. 8+ years after I moved out of my parents' house, I am finally paying for cable television. After a year in the dorms, five at Culligan Manor (where the cable was free, cheap beer flowed like water, and beautiful women instinctively flocked like the salmon of Capistrano) a year in Lawrence where cable was included in the rent, and another year and a half of illegal free action....it's finally all over. Apparently they're running some city-wide door-to-door check, offering a free "amnesty period" where if they find you're hooked up illegally, they won't fine you, but your reign of free cable terror is officially over. However, I wasn't aware of this amnesty period at the time that the cable guy (sadly, it wasn't Jim Carrey) showed up at my door and started asking questions. There was a lot of "Say whaaaaaat?" and "I thought my roommate had been paying that every month" on my part, until the guy told me to relax, that we weren't in trouble.

So although it sucks that I'm actually paying money for TV now, there are a couple of bright spots. One is that we finally have fast and reliable internet now, so it takes roughly half the time for me to download pics of Selena Gomez; and two is that I have now entered the exciting world of DVR. A world I had been longing to live in for quite a while now. It's pretty awesome to wait until a sporting event is half an hour in (and yes, I'm using that extra half an hour of free time to google Selena Gomez) then be able to fast forward through commercials. Likewise, it's great to record a bunch of JFK assassination specials, then watch them all back-to-back in the wee hours of the morning when I can't sleep. (Side note: after I was a couple hours deep in JFK conspiracy shows, I started to realize that Lee Harvey Oswald kinda looks like Stenj. Has anyone made that connection before?)

I'm not making this up, am I? I mean, throw a Florida Gators Starter jacket on him and it's identical, right?

>> After what is now referred to as the George Bell Incident, which was all fun and giggles at the time, I thought that after a couple days passed, I would be able to text questions to CHA CHA and once again they would answer me. Bygones would be bygones. Unfortunately, this is not the case. They still refuse to answer my questions, and so far Google is letting me down- so now, hoping against hope, I'm hoping that someone will be able to answer me this question: what is the name of the song that plays from about the 34 second mark to about the 1:06 mark in the King of Kong trailer? Even though I said I was done pimping that movie.....seriously, watch it. WATCH it. Your help in answering my question is appreciated.


Also, this portrait entitled "Finding Waldo" is pretty awesome:

Apology Accepted. I Still Love You, Brady.

A public service announcement from my boy, your boy, everybody's boy, Brady Morningstar (FYI this was really written by Brady and posted in the Lawrence Journal World, this isn't like when I pretend that I'm Tyler Hansbrough and write something stupid):

Jayhawk Basketball Fans:

Recently I made a regrettable mistake that has let down my family, friends, coaches, teammates, fellow KU student-athletes, the University, KU basketball fans and the State whose name I proudly wear across my chest. I used extremely poor judgment in driving after drinking and violating curfew.

I know the consequences of my poor and embarrassing decisions and want to apologize. Every day in practice, Coach Self and our coaching staff talk to us about the importance of making good decisions whether on the court or off. I sincerely regret the "black eye" I have given to all of you who have supported me, the University, and especially Kansas Basketball.

Over the years, my parents and coaches have repeatedly warned me about the consequences of drinking and driving. I am extremely thankful that I did not hurt anyone else that night. I have learned an important lesson and I will never forget it. When you drink and drive you are affecting others on the road, as well as the people who love you and are involved in your life. Even if you think you're OK, getting behind the wheel after having any drinks is a dangerous and terrible decision. As I face the consequences of my decisions, I intend to be a good role model by my actions and hope that young people will learn from my mistakes.

I know how lucky and privileged I am to be living my dream and to be part of the best college basketball program in the country. Please accept my sincere apologies for my bad judgment and the embarrassment it has brought to our program. I want you to know that moving forward I will "represent" this University and basketball program in a very positive way.

Sincerely,

Brady Morningstar

The Babysitters' Club, Only With Fewer Twelve-Year-Old Girls

A couple days ago I got my first opportunity to babysit Finn Thomas Leedahl, all by myself. Actually, I had never babysat for a child this young before. It was kind of surreal (not to mention probably terrifying for Lane and Skye) to have a little baby be completely and totally reliant on ME. I mean sure, I've played 'The Sims' on computer quite a bit, and there was the assortment of girls that I roofied back in my college heyday, and one time I did pay a homeless guy 50 bucks if he would follow my every command for 24 hours straight.....but this time, another human being's life was in my hands for real.


This is my "Look Lane and Skye, everything's under control, we're just chillin' in the rain forest and talking about how I cost myself 25 fantasy football points by cutting Jeremy Maclin when two of my receivers had a bye this week. Even though Finn spit up all over my Dikembe Mutombo shirt I'm not too worried about it, as evidenced by the thumbs up" Serious Face.


Until Finn was born, I had never even held a baby before, but I got over that fear a couple months ago, so that is no longer an issue. Luckily I never had to change a diaper during my shift, and Finn spit up on me within the first 10 minutes, so we got that out of the way quickly. I mixed up a bottle, fed him, and let him grab a quick nap in my lap, and then we played in his rain forest and chit-chatted (it was a pretty one-sided conversation, but that's cool.) Anytime he threatened to start getting fussy, I would start humming the theme from 'The Office' in a very loud and very high-pitched voice. As soon as I discovered that worked like gangbusters, it was all smooth sailing. I look forward to my next opportunity to hang out with the little guy (and I don't mean that in a Tyler Hansbrough kind of way.)


Confession: I read 'The Babysitter's Club' books when I was in elementary school. Like, a lot.

Sometimes Baseball Sucks

Not a single thing has gone right so far this postseason, and I'm not real pumped about it. Not a lot of positive vibes coming your way here.

- There is still a large favorite player void in my life, left by Manny Ramirez. I love Josh Beckett, but it sucks having a pitcher as your favorite player. He only plays every 5 games, and even though the Sox are probably the most televised team in the country, I'm still lucky if I get to watch him pitch 3 times a year. Kevin Youkilis is out; while I love that he's on my team, I realize he's one of those Shane Battier/Derek Jeter type guys that you absolutely hate if he's not. Youk would annoy me to no end if he played anywhere else. There are some things I like about J.D. Drew: He's come up big in some pretty clutch spots; I model my batting stance after him (I know, it's only slow pitch softball- who gives a shit) and we've both had the exact same scruff on our respective chins since the day the puberty gods gave us the gift of facial hair. But the bottom line is that my favorite player can't be one of the 5 most overpaid players in the game, have an on-field demeanor that makes Dice-K look positively animated, and have a plate approach that makes Henry Rowengartner look like a free-swinger. Sorry.

"Step in the box, JD. You have to at least watch the third strike go by before I can call you out."


Jed Lowrie was making a move for the top spot last year, but has spent pretty much this whole year injured, so I don't know. At gunpoint, I guess my favorite player is Dustin Pedroia. That's not exactly a ringing endorsement. It sucks not having a "boy."

- The second distressing thing (and I'm trying to figure out if it's connected to Manny leaving or not) is I've completely lost that faith that the Sox would always come back in the playoffs; that same faith that blossomed so beautifully during the comeback in '04. In 2005, I was convinced that not only would they come back and beat the White Sox after they fell down 0-2, but that they would go on to win the World Series again- and I was shocked when they didn't. In 2007, I wasn't hitting the panic button at all when they went down 3 games to 1 against Cleveland in the ALCS. Then last year, Manny left, and when they fell down 3-1 to Tampa, I completely cashed in the season. Same thing this year. I figured the series was over the minute that Beckett gave up the two-run triple in the 7th inning of Game 2 (three batters AFTER Francona should've pulled him- that was positively Grady Little-esque there.) Even with Papelbon blowing a lead in Game 3, and giving up his first postseason runs in his career in the process, I wasn't even surprised, just resigned to the fact. I think it's pretty safe to say that nobody wants to see me revert back to my pre-2004 state, as far as cheering for my teams in concerned.

- The third distressing thing about the Sox: they have basically switched spots with the Yankees in a lot of ways. Back in the day, the thing I could hang my hat on (and quite literally, the thing that helped me fall asleep at night after I would get done watching the Yankees eliminate the Sox from the playoffs) was that at least I was cheering for the good guys. The Yankees were a very professional, very talented team. A bunch of guys who went out and played good baseball, but didn't look like they enjoyed each other's company. The old "25 cabs for 25 guys" philosophy. Meanwhile, the Sox had character guys like Manny, Ortiz, Pedro, Kevin Millar, Bronson Arroyo, Johnny Damon back when he was cool, etc. etc.


This just in: I still hold a grudge against Johnny Damon for signing with New York. A lot of things have changed in the last four years for me. This is not one of them.


Back then, the Sox were always playing loose, making up crazy handshakes, cracking jokes, and generally just having fun. Even though they also had a ton of talent (and a large payroll) you truly felt like you were rooting for a huge underdog, like the Bad News Bears, or when the boys from The Sandlot takes on the douchebag Rose Park Tigers.

Nowadays, the Sox are a collection of professionals who do their jobs well, but do it in the most literal sense: like it's their job. It never looks like they're having a lot of fun. And then I change the channel, and the Yankees are hitting each other in the face with shaving cream pies, and making up their own cool handshakes, and inventing the new thing on a walk-off homer where the batter comes down the third-base line and throws his helmet like a bouquet at a wedding and half the team fights over catching it.....and it makes me sad.

- I despise the Angels. And not just because they play the Sox every year in the playoffs. I hated them in 2002, when they had a good run during a down year for baseball, and Mike Scioscia was immediately placed among the best managers in the game for some reason. I don't care that you lead the league in going from first to third on a base hit. I don't care that you reach 3 million fans every year. Your stadium seats 45,000 people; you should hit that mark. Besides, in the playoffs your crowd turns into 25-35% Boston fans anyway. Two words: Rally Monkey. Two more: you suck.

- So now we have another situation similar to 2003. Back then, Fundy and I were gearing up for a Red Sox/Cubs World Series, which would've pitted Culligan roommates against each other (as well as most of the sports-following world) in an epic battle. Then Steve Bartman and Aaron Boone happened, and we both agreed to completely boycott every second of the World Series. We didn't watch a single pitch, and every time the highlights came on Sportscenter, we changed the channel. To this day, the only proof I have that the series even happened is the highlight of Beckett recording the final out, and only because they would show it before every one of his starts for the first couple years after he signed with Boston.

And now this year, instead of a Twins/Red Sox series which would've gone done down in history among my friends and I....my two least favorite teams in the world are playing each other. Whoever wins this shitfest, I'm unhappy, so it's time to do what I do best in these situations: complain about it, and then quit. Let the official boycott of the 2009 ALCS begin.....now.

"Proving It" And Jheri Curls

After I glossed over the fact that I have a top 5 list of dudes I would do for a million dollars, a couple people pulled one of my favorite moves and simply and emphatically told me to "PROVE it!"

Touche'. So without further ado....

5. Justin Long
4. Robert Randolph
3. Josh Beckett
2. Bradley Cooper
1. Ryan Reynolds- but only Smokin' Aces or Amityville Horror-era Ryan Reynolds, where he's got that badass beard. Not Van Wilder-era Reynolds, he was too much of a pretty boy back then.

Now to quickly change the subject and pretend that conversation never took place, and also because I'm on a jheri curl kick lately, here is my list of the greatest jheri curls ever:

(with apologies to Eric Dickerson, Michael Cage, Jamie Foxx, and Michael Jackson)

10. AC Green. A large contributing factor to why he was still a virgin at age 38?

9. Walter Payton. Let's pay homage to a legend. Plus, the jheri curl/headband combo: ALWAYS deadly.


8. Eazy-E. We'll throw fellow N.W.A. member Ice Cube in here with him, as well. Two of the most balla people on the planet in 1988, and this was what they looked like. What an era. Also, I want that 'Compton' hat for Christmas.


7. 'Superfly' Jimmy Snuka. Somehow the jheri curl is only like the 4th grossest thing about this picture.



6. Deion Sanders. Nobody rocked it more gangsta than Prime. Plus he would sometimes sport the aforementioned jheri curl/headband combo, before he invented the headband around the neck look.

5. Rick James. Cocaine's a hell of a drug.


4. Jules from Pulp Fiction. I misspoke earlier when I said that nobody rocked it more gangsta than Deion.

3. Rickey Henderson. When I originally made this list in my head, I had Rickey around the #10 spot. Then I googled him and found this picture. Wow. Just....wow.

2. Pedro Martinez. Gets major bonus points for continuing to sport the jheri curl, 20 years after it peaked in popularity.

1. AC Slater. Jheri curl + mullet = no-brainer for the top spot.




Happy Friday. Let your soul glo this weekend.

Let's Get Denarded

>> The latest example of Lane and I turning into a couple of eight-year-olds every time we have more than four beers together: we started texting one of those services that answer random questions for you (CHA CHA, 242-242) and giggling in delight as we ask questions in a series such as:

Who won the American League MVP award in 1987?

(after receiving our answer:)

When was 1987 American League MVP George Bell born?

Where was 1987 American League MVP George Bell born on October 21, 1959?

What spot in the lineup did 1987 American League MVP George Bell, born October 21, 1959 in the Dominican Republic, hit?

What jersey number did 1987 American League MVP George Bell, born October 21, 1959 in the Dominican Republic, hitting in the 2 hole, wear?

What teams did 1987 American League MVP George Bell, born October 21, 1959 in the Dominican Republic, hitting in the 2 hole and wearing #11, play for?

...until eventually CHA CHA sends me an automated message telling me that my texts are no longer being accepted. It's fun for the whole family. Or more accurately, it's fun for Lane and I, while Skye shakes her head in disappointment and Finn sleeps peacefully, blissfully ignorant of the fact that he'll reach his father's maturity level before he gets to middle school.

It's just a coincidence that the last two pictures I've put up feature jheri curls. An awesome coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless.


>> Here's when you know you love a band: when you attend one of their shows, they only play one of your top 5 favorite songs, and it's still a FANTASTIC set. The band in question: Robert Randolph & the Family Band, at the Crossroads in Kansas City. (Side note: Gangel, I don't know if you came up with calling Robert Randolph 'Big Show Bob' or if you got it from somewhere else- but I love it, and I'm gonna start using it.) Also, Big Show Bob may have officially cracked my top 5 'dudes I would do for a million dollars' list. But that's neither here nor there.

>> I vaguely remember the book 'Where the Wild Things Are' from when I was a youngster, but here's what I know now: those friggin' imaginary animals look terrifying. Every time the movie preview comes on TV, I end up in the fetal position, desperately clutching a pillow over my eyes on the couch. That movie needs an NC-17 rating, or I don't know what we have a movie rating system for in the first place.

>> I want to put this out here now, before Bill Simmons makes the exact same comparison and makes it look like I copied him (an ongoing issue for me; this would not be the first time this happened): Aroldis Chapman, that Cuban pitcher who just defected and is supposed to make Dice-K money this offseason (note to major league teams out there: don't do it! Dice-K and his lack of facial expressions, even after he just got done throwing his 91st pitch in the 4th inning, is NOT WORTH IT!) Anyway, this Chapman fellow totally looks like Kevin Durant doing an impression of Dontrielle Willis' wind-up. Fo' serious.

>> Twins/Tigers game yesterday, simply put: one of the best baseball games I've ever watched. Now your boys need to TAKE OUT THE YANKEES. Make it happen, cap'n. Let's see some more Metrodome Magic.

It Was A Good Day

But not like Ice Cube describes it.

I did not fuck around and get a triple double.
If I hit the switch, I can not make that ass drop.
I did not go to Short Dog's house to watch MTV raps.
When I asked "what's the haps with the craps?" I received no response.
The Lakers did not beat the Supersonics.
I did not pick up a girl I been tryin' to fuck since the 3rd grade.
The lights on the Goodyear blimp did not read "Hammen's a Pimp."
I'm not drunk as hell, so no throwin' up. But it's 11 pm and my pager is not blowin' up.

BUT.

I did stumble upon this video.

I'd always thought that laughing so hard that things came out of your nose was a myth, or only something that happened on Ren & Stimpy. Until about the 6 second mark of this video, when I found out it's entirely real. Sometimes I hate my weakness for Muppets and their big flapping heads.

Twins Fan For A Day

For the record, I am wholeheartedly cheering for the Twins as they fight to backdoor their way into the playoffs without Justin Morneau. For the first time since I bought my Doucheberry, I have been using the internet to continually refresh a Gamecast that wasn't a Red Sox game. The baseball playoffs are a truly magical time, and I'd just like as many of my friends as possible to share in the excitement. It makes me happy when my friends are happy.

The only reason I go on the record and point this out is because I normally take more shit from my Minnesota Twins friends than anyone else. By far. People who claim that fans of the Boston/East Coast teams are the insufferable ones obviously don't talk to some of the people I know. So Twins fans: when the Sox are down 3-1 in the ALCS to the Yanks this year, down 6-2 in the 9th and about to be eliminated, and you're whipping out your phone to text me some trash talk, remember that I was pulling for your boys. (Also remember how brutal it sounds when you make fun of a team that made it further in the playoffs than you. Pretty classless 2008 postseason you guys had last year, texty-wise.)

While we're here, the mere possibility of a Twins/Sox ALCS would be a friendship Armageddon. Which I guess would be cool, because I've been needing to trim down my address book anyway. Lane and I were chatting about baseball today, and his exact quote was "If the Twins played the Sox in the ALCS, it would be win-win, because even if the Twins lost, I'd get to beat you up." And since Lane could beat me up while holding baby Finn in one hand, and I don't think I could come close to beating up anybody I know (except maybe ADawg, he's just a little guy) my only response to that is if the Sox lost that series, I would walk through elementary schools until I found a kid in a Twins shirt, and beat him (or her) up.

One last note: I can't decide if I'm cheering for the Braves to get in or not. On one hand, when Dunph (resident Braves fan) and I were discussing going to the World Series the other day, he was already telling me, in typical fashion, that the Braves have a better chance of getting there than the Sox, despite the fact that Atlanta was still 2 games out of the wild card at the time. On the other hand, at least he talks shit before Boston is down to their last out in a Game 7, when their own team lost in a one-game playoff to the shitty and overrated White Sox. So there's that.

(Chelsey, before you throw another handful of rice at me, please remember the beginning of this post, where I said that I am cheering for the Twins to get in. My ear still smells like enchilada sauce.)

Tyler Hansbrough Makes Me Look Prophetic

Tyler Hansbrough steals puppies and then "returns" them so he has an excuse to hang out with little kids.


No, really.


Freeze the commercial right at the 27 second mark, and just take a good look at that facial expression as he returns the dog. Tyler Hansbrough, puttin' the sex back in "sex offender."

1-14

As my hangover from last night's VHD show and other festivities hits hour 17, some highlights from the Red Sox/Royals game I attended on Tuesday night:

- About four months ago, as the streak of Royals games I had been to without seeing a win crept into double digits, I circled this date on the calendar and predicted that this would be when the streak ended. It was just inevitable that it would happen against the Sox. Last week, as the pitching rotations took shape, and I realized it was going to be Paul Byrd vs. Zack Greinke, my reaction was one simple word: Fuck. And as the Royals put up a 5 spot in the first inning, I was extra crabby. Not so much that the Sox were losing, but more that I predicted it in the first place, and that it was so easily predictable it was stupid. (And also because WHY THE HELL IS PAUL BYRD EVEN STARTING GAMES FOR BOSTON? The Sox just straight-up released Brad Penny and John Smoltz, which is fine, I guess, they both sucked- but if the alternative is to cold-call a guy with an 88 mph fastball, who was sitting on his couch in retirement....then no thanks. I'll take the former Cy Young winner or the former starter of the All-Star Game, if it's all the same to you. Just ridiculous. Grow up Peter Pan. Count Chocula.)

- The other reason I was extra annoyed? I HATE seeing random streaks like this end. It's why I haven't gone to bed before midnight since 1997. It's why, my senior year in college, I was pissed at the girl who sat next to me in class after I lent her my pencil that I had been using since my sophomore year of high school, and she accidentally broke it. (I mean legitimately pissed. We were friendsies with bensies at the time, but I couldn't even look at her for like a week without seeing my broken pencil and getting mad all over again.)

- #3 funniest thing I heard from a Royals fan: Kevin Youkilis tapped a ball foul that David Ortiz deftly snagged off a tricky bounce from the on-deck circle, earning a chorus of whooooaaaas and some applause. Then as it quieted down again, a guy shouted loud enough for the entire stadium to hear: "That's an easy play when you're on the JUICE!"

- #2 funniest thing I heard from a Royals fan: There was an elderly couple in the seats directly to my right. After a Royals reliever threw one wildly to the outside and the ball skipped to the backstop, he deadpanned: "Tries the corner and missed." Anytime a guy old enough to have fought in WWII is quoting Major League, probably the best baseball movie of all time, he's a winner in my book.

- #1 funniest thing I heard from a Royals fan: Around the 6th inning, the requisite beach ball started making its way around the upper deck. Someone accidentally hit it too hard, and it toppled over the rail, down below to the good seats directly behind home plate. Everyone started immediately booing the poor girl, and one college age-guy stood up and shouted: "What the hell? Why'd you give it to the rich kids, they already get everything they want in life! And now they have our beach ball!"

- My new favorite douchebag move to pull at a ballgame: in between innings, when they do those little games on the Jumbotron where they put a ball in a suitcase or something, and shuffle and flip them around and you have to follow it and name which suitcase your ball is in at the end, and the whole crowd is yelling "Two! Two! Twooooo!" (this works great at Kaufmann because they made the game REALLY easy and even a three-year-old would be able to guess correctly) I love to yell the wrong number repeatedly, at a loud volume, and preferably throwing in some "Are you guys crazy? What suitcase were YOU watching?" Then when they announce the correct number, everyone starts taunting me and I can play the guy who refuses to accept that he's wrong and claiming the game is rigged (not exactly a difficult acting job for me.) Easy entertainment there. Fun for the whole family.

- At some point Alex went to the concessions for food, and the plan was for her to bring me back the greatest thing in my life, the crown jewel of my diet, the greatest $6 west of the Mississippi: Kaufmann Stadium chili cheese fries. After a few minutes, she sends a heart-stopping texty: They're all out of fries. I'm instantly in Nancy Kerrigan "Why me? Why now? Whyyyyy?" mode. I'd been thinking about those cheese fries since the moment I woke up that morning. My night is pretty much ruined. I sullenly reply that she should just see if they have pizza or something, and literally slump in my seat. The aforementioned elderly couple ask me if I'm OK (I'm sure it looked like I just found out my pet goldfish died or something) and I explained the situation. They understandably laughed at me. 15 minutes later, Alex had yet to return, and suddenly a light bulb went off in my head: what if Alex just meant that they were temporarily out of fries, and now it was taking her so long because they were cooking up a new batch? I was a new man. As Andy Dufresne taught me, hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. Then even more time passed, and my excitement waned a bit. I'm a natural pessimist; once the possibility of the worst-case scenario presents itself, I prepare myself for exactly that. When Alex finally rounded the corner, tray of chili cheese fries in hand, it was all I could do to not leap out of my seat and start cheering. I couldn't, however, keep a gigantic smile from bursting upon my face, which drew laughs and high fives from most of the section around me, who by now were aware of my plight. I even received a heartfelt congratulatory handshake from the old guy, like my firstborn son was just born or something. Moments later, as I began plowing through the cheese fries that had just put me through such an emotional roller coaster, I reflected upon the ridiculousness of my overreaction. Then I took another bite, and was reminded all over again why there couldn't be any other way. Hope IS a good thing, and no good thing ever dies.

Basketbrawl

So judging by the amount of texties, BBMs, and comments I've received today, I'm sure most of you have heard by now about the "fracas" between the KU basketball and football team. ESPN had the story about Tyshawn Taylor throwing a punch in a little skirmish last night, but shit got REAL this morning. Apparently one of the football players was talking shit to the Morris twins about how they roughed Taylor up last night, so one of the twins (my bet is Markieff, or whichever one got in trouble for shooting a BB gun out his dorm window last year) threw that player down the stairs at the student union. I can only hope that he then yelled "check yo' self fo' you wreck yo' self!" while the other twin chimed in "cuz gettin' thrown down the stairs is bad fo' yo' health!" That's how it went in my head, anyway. In any event, there happened to be a large amount of football players and about 3/4 of the basketball team in the near vicinity, and it got out of hand real fast. I mean, it escalated quickly. It jumped up a notch. There were horses, and a man on fire, and Brady Morningstar killed a guy with a trident. He should probably find a safehouse or a relative close by. Lay low for awhile, because he's probably wanted for murder.

Naturally this is all that anybody in town is talking about today (yet another reason why I love living here: I was putting on hole #8 today when a 70-year-old man pulled his cart alongside the green and yelled, "Have you heard the latest news about the brawl?!?! I heard one of the Morris twins pushed someone down the stairs!!!" 70 years old.) According to the background "facts" (read: what I've heard from the beer cart girls at the course, who range in age from 20-23 and have their ear to the streets on campus) this all started a couple years ago, with the football players having beef with Sherron "ain't no seats" Collins**, for reasons involving a girl. So I'm ready to come to a quick and irrational judgment on my Jump to Conclusions Mat: fuck the football team. Trying to ruin the basketball team's preseason #1 ranking? I don't play that shit.

Background on college football and me: when I was a youngster, I was a Florida St. fan, due to Deion Sanders. I was never diehard, though Charlie Ward remains my favorite college football player of all time- plus he really rocked the shit on Bill Walsh College Football for Sega. He was no Bo Jackson on the Auburn '83 team, running the triple option all over the field....but that's a post for another day.

For all my pretentiousness regarding jumping bandwagons and favorite teams, I admittedly waffled quite a bit with college football. I know that I loved Colorado for a couple years after I ran into Kordell Stewart on the CU campus when I was around 11 years old or so, and I also know at some point I owned a Florida Gators Starter jacket- I bet Stenj and I were the only dudes in the tri-state area who wore one of those. I went back to loving FSU again in high school, and then in 2001, when they won the national title and I realized I didn't really care that much, and knew I wasn't a true fan anyway, I officially stopped actively following college football. Then the BCS got more out of hand, and listening to college football fans bitch year in and year out about getting screwed, or arguments about strength of schedule, completely pissed me off. So college football was completely dead to me for a 6 year stretch.

When I moved to Lawrence, I figured I'd jump on the KU bandwagon, since I could follow the team closely and go to games and whatnot. However, that process has been slow to develop. Despite being on the stadium grounds nearly every autumn Saturday, drinking my face off, I've only stepped foot inside the stadium for one half of football (30 minutes) in 2+ years. I can only name 4 players on the entire team (the QB, RB, and top two WRs) and still don't care much if they win or lose. As Eldest Brother Schneweis puts it: "I'm a huuuuge KU football fan. Until basketball season starts. Then I don't give a shit anymore."

SO. Back to today. If anything serious comes out of this (suspensions, kids getting kicked off the team, lingering injuries to Tyshawn's hand) I am fully prepared to break up with college football again. This romance was hanging by a thread as it was.

Besides, I'm pretty sure that the four football players I can name are all seniors anyway.


**If you haven't heard the "ain't no seats" story, or if you've heard the ESPN commentators try to tell it and completely butcher it, it goes like this: during some 100-level class a couple years ago, the KU basketball players had set up shop in one corner of the lecture bowl to cheat off one another. One day, during a test, when the prof had set up a seating arrangement with at least one empty seat in between every student, Sherron strolled in late, grabbed his test, and took his normal seat among the other basketball players. The professor, motioning to the rows and rows of empty seats at the front of the class, told Sherron to find an empty chair and take his test there. Sherron, without even looking up from his neighbor's paper, yelled out: "Ain't no SEATS!!!" and continued on his merry way. Naturally, the prof didn't make him move, the story spread around, and pretty soon the student section had made an "ain't no seats" sign for home games.

Ahhhh Division I athletics. Sports at its purest level.

Rock Bottom?

I lost my big kid's job and I'm working at a golf course.

26 years of eating fast food like I'm starring in the sequel to Supersize Me, and only exercising when it involves some sort of score being kept is catching up on me, and for the first time in my life, I'm looking down the barrel at two bills every time I step on a scale.

After my two hole-outs in 10 days earlier this summer, my golf game bottomed out to the point that I'm going back to square one and completely retooling my swing.

All these things are manageable. Ain't no thing but a chicken wing on a string. From Burger King.

However.

I just downloaded a Miley Cyrus song.

And not because Miley falls into my Hilary Duff/Lindsay Lohan/Selena Gomez Uncomfortably Attractive At A Very Young Age Hall of Fame (she's probably the next tier down from that.) Some guy played the song 'Party in the USA' for Crappy Song Friday, then we started playing it every hour on the hour, because it completely ruins our boss' day every time we play it (a la Alfonso hearing any given Rush song) and one thing led to another and boom, I was hooked.


So THIS is what rock bottom feels like.

It's Not A Mop, It's Not A Puppet....

Since it's Friday, I'm feeling lazy and uncreative, I'm leaving shortly for a weekend in small-town Arkansas with my parents and a collection of Aunts and Uncles, and because Muppets are ALWAYS hilarious, two videos for you today (NSFW, unless you happen to work as a low-level boss in the Tony Soprano crime syndicate, or you happen to work on-set of a Quentin Tarantino movie):


Casino- Sesame Street Version

Reservoir Dogs- Muppet style



But seriously, puppets are the best (Muppets in particular.) I'm aware that I find humor in stupid things, and it's not exactly difficult to get me giggling, but basically anything involving puppets becomes automatically funnier than if they weren't involved. I still watch the Muppet Christmas movie every year on Christmas Day while Brother shakes his head in disgust. Plus, the hardest I've ever laughed in my entire life was probably in the movie theater during Team America, that stupid puppet movie that the creators of South Park made. Like when people use the expression 'fell out of my chair laughing' as an exaggeration....well, I was steadily sliding out of mine, and I probably would have fell right out and slid down the aisle, with my own laughter tears greasing it like a slip-n-slide, if Ike hadn't punched me in the arm through his own laughter and told me to settle down because everybody was staring at me. Friggin' puppets.

Happy Friday.

Hello Poochie. You Look Like You Have Something To Say. Do You?

Yes, I certainly do.

>> Please congratulate both myself and the Boston Red Sox, your MLB: The Show World Champions. 162 regular season games, a three-game sweep of the Texas Rangers in the ALDS, a closer-than-it-sounds 5-game dispatching of Detroit in the ALCS, and a 6-game triumph over Arizona in the World Series, three games went into extra innigs, Jonathan Papelbon blew two saves, and J.D. Drew hit a walk-off two-run double in Game 6 to set off a wild celebration in both downtown Boston and Apartment A2 in the Westwood apartment complex in Lawrence, KS.

>> The last few months I've been wrestling around with the exact order of my Funniest TV Shows, Non-Animated Division. The Office has pretty much had a stranglehold on the top spot for a couple years now, but It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia is making a strong, strong push for the crown. How I Met Your Mother is definitely in the mix, and Arrested Development is down another level, but still comfortably in 4th (it gets hurt because it won't ever have another season released, but word on the street is that they're making a movie, so maybe it can make a jump then.) Anyway, I never watch the seasons live, I just wait until the DVDs come out and rip through the entire season at once (a couple times for It's Always Sunny.) And as luck would have it, the DVDs of all three shows' latest seasons have either been released last week or is being released next week, so it's gonna be a big, BIG month for my top 5. I hope you're as excited as I am. I also borrowed the entire series of Rescue Me from DVJS, and have started dabbling in 30 Rock via hulu. Both are solid shows; 30 Rock, at this point, has a slight chance to crack the top 5 eventually.

>> One of the traditions among the golf course employees is Crappy Song Friday, where we all pick one brutal song and rock it on youtube. But there's a definite pattern developing: one of the other guys (or girls, when we let the beer cart girls in on the fun- which is rare because men built the Eiffel Tower out of metal and brawn, and women have a brain 1/3 the size of ours) will pick a song, and as its playing, everyone will laugh about how shitty that song is. Then it quiets down and I'll softly admit that said song is in my top 25 most played on my ipod, and then I become the butt of the joke. The latest example: 'Return of the Mack' by Mark Morrison. I end up listening to this song all the time for multiple reasons: it was popular around the same time as the Flood of '97, so it gets nostalgia points**, it's fun to sing along to, and the background lyrics are borderline hysterical to my delicate sense of humor (the best parts are when he passionately screams "Oh my gaaaaaaaa!" during the chorus.) What a song.

**Other Flood Songs, off the top of my head: 'The Freshman' by Verve Pipe; 'Hypnotize' by Notorious BIG; 'Firestarter' by Prodigy; 'MMMBop' by Hanson; 'Wannabe' by The Spice Girls; 'No Diggity' by BLACKstreet; 'Pony' by Ginuwine, 'Your Woman' by White Town. One might say that 1997 wasn't exactly a banner year for American music.

King Of Kong: A Fistful Of Awesome

Sometimes, when I recommend something, I like to downplay it a bit, as I know firsthand that if something gets overhyped, it loses a little bit of its luster (case in point: The Hangover is a very funny movie. But the funniest movie of the decade? The defining movie of our generation? C'mon, let's be serious here.) But sometimes I just gotta say fuck it- This. Is. AWESOME.

Schneweis happened to be driving though Lawrence at the same time that Kos and Chelsey were visiting earlier this week, so we peeled our hungover asses out of bed and met the Schneweis brothers and the Leedahl family out for breakfast. Not many good things came as a result from that breakfast (I failed to finish over 50% of a meal for the first time since 1988, when my mom forced me to eat au gratin potatoes and I puked all over my plate) but there was one silver lining, at least- an endorsement from the Schneweis bros of the documentary King of Kong: Fistful of Quarters.

After only 20 seconds of hearing about it, I was in. Anytime the phrases "video games", "guy named Steve Sanders", "best movie villain since Darth Vader", and "so ridiculous you couldn't make these characters up" are used together to describe one movie....you don't need to twist my arm any further. Immediately after breakfast, I was sold. If I would've been on ebay at the time, I would have been pressing the 'commit to buy' button. Repeatedly.

A search of the DVD selections around town proved to be unsuccessful, as apparently documentaries about 1980's arcade games are a bit obscure. We were able to rent it, however, and Alex and I watched it later that night. It was, simply put, one of the most fascinating movies I've ever seen.

Now here's where it gets tricky. While I'd like to tell you as little as possible, so as not to ruin the events of the movie, I feel like you should, at the very least, be aware of Billy Mitchell. This is the guy who set a bunch of records and "peaked" in the 1980's. He's like the bad guy from The Karate Kid, Roadhouse, and Total Recall all rolled into guy. He has a loyal army of minions (that Schne and I agree might as well be wearing Stormtrooper suits) that help to keep his records intact. I won't spoil too much of the essence of Billy Mitchell, but he's the kind of guy who can say with a straight face: "It's like I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't. No matter what I say, it draws controversey. I'm kinda like the abortion issue."



In case you were wondering- no, this is not a picture of Billy Mitchell from 1982. This is, in fact, a present-day photo. Apparently the 80's were so good to Billy, he decided to just stay there.


The story, in a nutshell, is about a relative newcomer to the professional video game scene, trying to set a record in the arcade game Donkey Kong, running up against Mitchell's Evil Empire. I can't remember the last time I'd been so emotionally invested in a movie (probably the most recent Star Wars) and I don't think I'd seen Alex so fired up since Dr. McSteamy slept with Dr. McDreamy's wife, or some such rubbish like that. (As an added bonus, after Alex watched this documentary, suddenly my video game habits weren't quite so ridiculous after all.) After awhile, this movie isn't even about video games anymore. It's about Good vs. Evil. The Bully vs. The Underdog. Not letting the terrorists win. Everything you can ask for in a cinematic adventure. And it's even better because it's true.

So that's about all the pimping I can do, short of changing my name to Pepper Jack, throwing on a suit and matching fedora, and walking the streets smacking around my top dollar hos. Here is the trailer for King of Kong: Fistful of Quarters. If you can't get on board after that, then I've got nothing left to say.


But don't take my word for it!

Even More Little-Known Facts About Tyler Hansbrough

-- Hansbrough thinks it's hilarious to go through the Taco Bell drive-thru and order a Big Mac.

-- Hansbrough went to his 8-year-old nephew's birthday party, and they went bumper-bowling. He liked them so much that he never bowls without them anymore, because he can routinely break 100 now.

-- Hansbrough never hits 16s when the dealer is showing a 10. Then when the next card is flipped and it's an 8, he remarks to the person next to him "See? I just would've busted anyway."

-- Hansbrough just watched Napoleon Dynamite for the first time last week. Since then, every time someone asks him what he's going to do that day, he replies "Whatever I feel like. GOSH!" and then looks for someone to high-five him.

-- Hansbrough's favorite Ghostbuster is Egon.

-- Hansbrough wants to have a destination wedding. He tells people it's because he doesn't want all the stress of planning a traditional wedding, and that it would be more fun to get hitched in a tropical location- but really it's because he doesn't have enough friends to fill up a wedding party, and it would be awkward.

-- When Hansbrough is at the movie theater, after every single preview finishes, he leans to the person he's with and says either "Ohh, that movie looks awesome- I wanna see that!" or "That movie looks awful- I totally don't want to see that." He says this loud enough so that everyone in a 10-row radius can hear him.

-- Hansbrough still thinks that The Blair Witch Project was a real documentary.

-- Hansbrough asked his school counselor to his senior prom because it was the closest relationship he had with a girl the entire year. She said no.

-- When Hansbrough walks into a public restroom with three urinals, and all three are currently unused, he pees in the middle one.

-- When Hansbrough goes to a strip club and sits at Sniffer's Row, he doesn't bring any of his own dollar bills. He just waits until the stripper goes to the other side of the stage, then nabs bills that are already lying on the stage. When the stripper works her way back around to him, he gives her those same bills.

-- Hansbrough loves to tell the story that one time he suckered some kid into trading him a Michael Jordan rookie card in mint condition. When you ask to see the card, he says no because "it's, um, locked up in storage."

-- The age old question: how do you eat a Reese's peanut butter cup? Some people nibble around the edges, then eat the middle part last. Some people take two large bites and are done with it. Tyler Hansbrough takes a bite, then forgets about it, so when he picks it back up it's all melty, so he gets chocolate on his fingers and doesn't wipe it off, even after you offer him a napkin, and then he borrows your Playstation controller and gets melty chocolate shit all over it and doesn't apologize.

Just A Sweet Sweet Fantasy, Baby

Living in the year 2009 is awesome, when despite the fact that your friends live all over the country, you can still feel like you're in the same room drafting your fantasy teams. Whether you're doing it in person, or you're typing it in a little instant message chat, it's always funny to make fun of Haley for claiming to sell cigarettes to a third grader. That's the running joke that keeps on giving.

Here's my team this year, which I have taken to calling "Team Bounce-Back" because of all the fliers I took on people who I'm hoping will regain their past glory (Romo, Palmer, LJ, I'm looking in your direction):

QB- Tony Romo
RB- Chris Johnson
RB- Ronnie Brown
WR- Andre Johnson
WR- Donald Driver
WR- Devin Hester
TE- Bo Scaife
D/ST- Green Bay
K- Neil Rackers

QB- Carson Palmer
RB- Larry Johnson
RB- Lesean McCoy
WR- Muhsin Muhammad
WR- Jeremy Maclin

The only player I really coveted was Chris Johnson. He is my new favorite player in the NFL, and he was money for me last year (not as money as DeAngelo Williams, whom I cut and subsequently won the league for Kos- but still, he was pretty money.) I like my backup RBs, I think LJ is coming back this year, and when Brian Westbrook has his inevitable injury, McCoy could end up rocking the hossage like sausage.

OK enough fantasy talk, nobody gives a shit about anyone's team but their own anyway. But a few people have asked me what my team name (Philadelphia Daymen) means, so I would like to answer that question with a short video clip, from one of the funniest television shows in history. Kos and Haley will know what it means immediately, but for everyone else, this should clear it up. It makes me feel like a failure that whenever I huff spray paint, I can't come up with hilarious songs like Charlie can when he's under the same influence.

And now I need some help from you. There's a song by Goldfinger called 'Spokesman', and there is a guitar riff they play throughout the song, starting immediately with the first 3 seconds, and then a couple more times later in the song. It sounds really, REALLY familiar. I would bet my unborn child that this riff is sampled from another song, but I can't figure out which one. It kinda sounds like a part from 'The Grand Illusion' by Styx, but I don't think that's it though. This has literally been keeping me awake at night, trying to figure it out (well, either that or the aforementioned paint huffing is keeping me up. One of the two.) Here is the song, please give it a listen and help a brotha out. Alfonso, I'm sure you think Goldfinger sucks, but I would appreciate your help anyway.

Thank you and have a happy Labor Day weekend. Not drinking very much lately + Kos and Chelsey in town + opening day for KU football + I lost my big kid's job = time to get crunksauced. Like my man Dr. Dre would say, there are three types of people in the world: people who don't know something happened; people who wonder what happened; and people like us out here in the streets who make things happen.