Football Picks, Internet K-Hole

I would've put my picks down last week, but was too lazy/balls deep in The Wire, which is probably the greatest show in TV history. I went 3-1 on spreads, missing on the Bengals (and I've successfully convinced myself, when I lay in bed at night thinking about my missed bets, that if just two plays in that game went differently, a 21-point Bengals loss would've actually been a win, so that's nice).....and 0-4 on over/unders. Not a good weekend for over/unders, but then again I've never been very good at those.

Saints (-3.5) over 49ERS

I'm betting on the Saints until they don't cover; they're a MACHINE right now. However, even though there's a terrible chance at it happening, I do have $5, at 25-1 odds, that the 49ers win the NFC. I love longshot bets; they are easily the most fun when they hit. I made that bet when the Niners were 3-1, and I thought 'hey, they're probably going to win their crappy division, get a 2 seed and a first round bye, and then all they have to do is sneak out a home victory and pull off a miracle against (probably) Green Bay.' At 25-1? I love that bet. Especially for only 5 bucks. It looks a lot worse now, since the Saints and Packers look like the two best teams in the league by far, but whaddya want for 25-1? I can't complain. (Side note: If anyone wants to hop on my longshot baseball bet for 2012, it's Cleveland to win the AL at 30-1. Those are ridiculously high odds for a decently talented team playing in a wide-open division. Get to the baseball playoffs and anything can happen.)

PATRIOTS (-13.5) over Broncos

I'm mildly terrified to bet against Tebow at this point, but I think last week was their Super Bowl. They'll have a little bit of a "Just happy to be here!" glow (similar to the look on Noles' face when he was dancing with a random girl from our high school on the coffee table at Culligan) and the Patriots will beat it right off of their faces. They've got a few years of playoff frustration to take out on them (did you know the Pats haven't won a playoff game since the AFC Championship game in January 2008? In Will Ferrell Elf voice: "That's shocking.")

PACKERS (-8) over Giants

I seriously have no clue about the Giants. Ever. This goes back for my entire gambling career. In 2006, I predicted they'd win the Super Bowl, then watched them barely make the playoffs. If you exclude our March Madness Vegas trip in 2006, I've never lost more money gambling in a single month than in January 2008, when Eli fucking Manning won three straight road playoff games, then beat the undefeated Patriots in the Super Bowl. Fuckin' a regular Staubach, over there. This year, I don't know if I've picked one of their games correctly. I said my lock of the year was for the under on the 9.5 wins over/under pick, watched in horror as they started 6-2 (killing multiple teasers and parlays along the way) breathed easy when they lost four in a row, then barely squeaked out a win when they finished 9-7. Not what you're looking for on your "lock of the year" bet. So before last week's game, I decided to go George Costanza with the G-men, and do the opposite of what I actually think. I thought the Falcons could cover, so I went with the Giants....and they won by 22 points. So I'm sticking with the Costanza pick this week. I think the Giants could keep this one close....ipso facto, Go Pack Go!

RAVENS (-7.5) over Texans

I don't particulary like either of these teams. Normally the rule is to take the points when in doubt, but I just can't get behind a rookie 5th-round QB on the road against one of the best defense/crowd combos in the NFL. I think both the Saints and Packers would beat either of these teams by a couple of touchdowns, for what it's worth.

***************

Allow me to introduce you to a website that was brought into my life by Kyle: the Internet K-hole. It's strangely captivating to see all these totally random pictures from previous decades. It's not totally safe for the work though; every 50 pictures or so, some nudity gets slipped in. Just adds to the weirdness of the site. It's like playing duck-duck-goose with nudey pics......Normal, normal, normal, BOOBS! Normal, normal, normal, normal, PENIS! Also, if you're gonna troll through it, having a soundtrack for yourself is essential. For example, every time Kyle gets his K-hole on, he blasts the Shaft theme song. As for me, I'm partial to 'Stranglehold' by Ted Nugent. You gotta get into the right frame of mind for the K-hole, son.

What I Think About During Songs. Volume 4.

On my ipod, I have a pretty large collection of music that most people would consider 'crap.' Hanson, the Spice Girls, Bel Biv Devoe, BLACKstreet, Kris Kross, Bryan Adams, C+C Music Factory, Digital Underground, Technotronic, Ace of Base, Tone Loc, etc. etc. etc....it's a sizeable list. I enjoy most of those one-hit wonder type of songs not only for the reasons that most people enjoy pop music, but also because of random memories that those songs remind me of.

So it was following that line of thinking that inspired me to download Big & Rich's 'Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy' the other day. It reminds me of the era shortly after we all turned 21, and of going to WeFest a couple times despite hating country music***, and even of when they would play this song at El Roco, right in the middle of a block of 15 hip-hop songs, and watching all the black guys from the Air Force Base clear off the dance floor and sneer at us as we attempted to two-step (which I know in my case constituted grabbing an imaginary belt buckle, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat in different directions, and mostly high-stepping in place, all while trying not to spill the pitcher that I was drinking straight out of-- if you actually poured your beer into a glass at El Roco, you were a sucker.) Definitely some fond memories there.

But upon downloading the song, I listened to it twice, cringed quite a few times, and immediately deleted it from my ipod. I couldn't believe how bad it was.





The point: if not even I can tolerate your shitty pop song after not hearing it for years and being excited to wallow in its memories.....then you know you've made a truly shitty pop song.


***My standing rule during WeFest: if just ONE person out of our camping group agreed to stay back at the campsite with me and drink, then I wouldn't attend the concert going on at that time. Over a couple years, I think I went to 3 out of 24 concerts total-- and believe me, those 3 times, I seriously debated staying at the campsite and continuing to get sauced by myself over trekking to the main concert area to not listen to shitty country music.

Say Hi To Kelly And My New Favorite Shirt

She says hi back. She also says "Holy crap I'm starting to get worried. Jum purchased me a week ago and he's barely taken me off since. He wore me home out of the store, out to the bars the next night, he slept in me one night even though he hadn't slept in a shirt since he was like 9 years old, and he's been wearing me around the house almost every day since. It's starting to get a little weird. And I could definitely use a good washing. I smell like a mix of Sailor Jerry's, chew, and chicken alfredo, and I've got a little spot of chocolate from where Jum dribbled a bite of his chocolate-covered potato chips on me and didn't notice, then laid around and watched The Wire for seven hours and ground it in there pretty good. Somebody please get this dude some help."

To which I reply: "You keep your mouth shut Kelly! I will take you off when I'm good and ready! You're just lucky I'm not using you as a beat rag yet-- but you better believe that day is coming!!!"

"....I'm sorry for yelling, babe. It's just that I'm so in love, things just get a little crazy sometimes. I just care a little too much, you know what I'm saying? But you know that no matter what I might say, I'll always love you, right boo? RIGHT?!?!?!"

Leave It On The Doorstep And Get The Hell Outta Here

When the my family and the Bergman family got together for our annual Christmas get-together last week and ordered Popolino's (call 746-POPS! Popolino's Pizza!) I wanted to give this little gem a try:






But instead we had to pick it up since they don't deliver to East Grand Forks (what is this, 1973? Frigging Communists.) Disappointing but not totally unexpected. Has anyone ever tried this? Could it possibly work? I need to see this go down someday. I'll put it on the bucket list.

In The Middle

Middle Brother Schneweis recently became a father (as well as our boy Noles/Fatcat, congrats dude! Kids are getting spit out like Cat Stevens around our friend group lately) and made a somewhat controversial decision, one that has inspired plenty of bar-talk and theoretical discussion the last few weeks: he's letting his daughter pick her own middle name on her 16th birthday.

I think it's a cool move, but also a dangerous one. We have some family friends who, years ago, let their four and six-year-old daughters name their third daughter upon her birth. In the middle of a (predictable) Aladdin phase, they (predictably) picked Jasmine. Granted, when you're letting two kids with a combined age that wouldn't even get them a job at the Ben Franklin Elementary School Renaissance Fair name your kid, you could do a lot worse....but still, if I'm that third child, that probably causes a fight or two among siblings along the way to adulthood. Wait, YOU chose this name for me?!? You ASSHOLES! I've been getting beat up on the playground every other day for two years for being named after a fucking Disney character, and now I find out it's YOUR fault?!?!? While this isn't the same situation here, my point is that it's dangerous to put these decisions into the hands of people who haven't spent, at the very least, seven adult months debating the issue.

When you're 16, you're just old enough that you're going to feel strongly about certain people who have a questionably tangible impact on your life (athletes, musicians, celebs, etc.) but you're just young and immature enough to believe that you should take the opportunity to honor them by adopting their name for your middle name. You're also just old enough to realize the inherent comedy there would be if you gave yourself an ironically funny name....and just young enough to not fully consider the long-term ramifications of that choice.

For example, I'm about 90% sure that if you would've let me pick my middle name on my 16th birthday, it would've been Tupac. I probably would've even spelled it 2Pac; I was that big of a douche when I was 16. Note: I don't mean to imply I'm not that big of a douche now, I'm just sayin', I was then too.

{FYI: that 90% isn't just some blind estimate. The other 10% depends upon whether or not all humans picked their own middle name or not. If that was the case, I could see Brother, Paul, Bergman and I doing some sort of Beverly Hills, 90210 fantasy draft for our middle names. Like if I got the #1 pick, I'd definitely take Brandon Walsh, so my full name would be Jum Brandon Walsh Hammonds. The last pick would get stuck with Steve Sanders, depending on how you feel about David Silver. You get the idea. Otherwise, 2Pac.}

So. Question of the day: if you got to pick your middle name on your 16th birthday, what would it be?

(Also, you can read about Middle Brother Schneweis' new father adventures here. He actually gets paid to blog-- ipso facto, his blog is much funnier.)

"Who's This Guy? Look At This Idiot....Oh Crap, It's My Boyfriend"

- Christine's quote as she sat at home watching the KU/Ohio St. game last week, as I made my triumphant debut on ESPN, mugging in the background during an interview between Jay Bilas and Ohio St. coach Thad Matta.

Kyle and I thought we were in perfect position to both be on TV for the entire interview, but it turns out he only got on for a couple seconds when he leaned his head in (sorry dude.) So it was just me grinning in the background like an idiot, which we opted for over being loud and crazy and interrupting the interview, since we didn't want to risk getting booted out of the shot. Either way, it was pretty funny about 15 minutes later when they aired the interview and my phone exploded in my pocket. Texts from numbers I don't even know, Facebook messages from people I haven't talked to in years and years....nothing like an appearance on the World Wide Leader to make you feel cool. I even got a hero's welcome at the bar after the game, since we're friends with the bartender, she made a big deal as soon as I came on the screen, and she had everyone coming up to me for fake autographs as soon as we walked in the bar after the game.

So now I've got ESPN and CBS crossed off the list (Bergman, Chuck, Endo and I were in the background at the '09 PGA Championship while Tiger was putting, and I looked like an idiot then too, so I'm 2 for 2 in that category.) We'll try for NBC if we end up at the Ryder Cup in Chicago next September, which is looking more and more like a go. Still nowhere near Addy's number of times on television, but that number is like Dimaggio's 56-game hit streak, it's never getting touched. That kid is ridiculous.

Bilas is probably the best college basketball analyst out there right now, and he's certainly the best thing to ever come out of Duke...although I'll listen to arguments for Grant Hill. He's a pretty cool guy too, look at him lean into me for this photo. He's going at least 80/20 on me. What up JB.

Not Letting The Terrorists Win

Last night was one of those blah Monday nights. I was still hungover a little bit from a 15-hour drinking session on Saturday (I might not do much on my actual birthday, which a lot of my friends don't understand, but I MAKE PLAYS on the day after my birthday, when we combine birthday parties with CK, whose birthday is the 4th. I just don't like how my birthday is all about me-- it's more fun to share the wealth. But I digress.) I've also been getting sick pretty consistently lately. Two weeks good, one week bad, two weeks good, one week bad. Right now I'm in the bad week. Plus work was hectic, and my brain was pretty well drained by 5 pm.

So I just holed up in the Fortress of Solitude (the downstairs bedroom where I keep all my old school video games hooked up) fired up GoldenEye for the N64, turned on the all guns, infinite ammo, invincible Bond cheat options, and just went to work on the Facility level**, slaughtering scientists and bad guys without mercy. Before I knew what had happened, like an hour and a half had gone by.

And I felt a little better afterwards.

**As anyone who has killed time playing GoldenEye for days on end knows, the Facility level is indisputably the best level to take out your frustrations on. Besides the aforementioned unarmed scientists, who are always fun to kill as they're surrendering, once you get to the end of the level and you explode the bottling tanks, a never-ending stream of guards storm the room to get you. Turns into a goddamn turkey shoot in there. Assault rifles, rocket launchers, grenades....with the all guns cheat turned on, it's all in play, dude. Just use your imagination.

I'm gonna wrap this up now, it's starting to sound a little Columbine-y.

Shaking It Off

I turn 29 tomorrow, and I'm not too thrilled about it. It seems like every couple days or so, some random occurrence in day-to-day life comes and gives me a little slap to remind me that we're getting older all the time. Sometimes it's a subtle love tap; sometimes it's an E. Honda-style barrage to the face. The latest example: handshakes.

All of a sudden we're greeting each other with a simple handshake, like a couple of gentlemen. I don't want to do that. We're not about to negotiate the terms of a business merger, and I'm not running for political office.

I love the three-step soul shake. I love fist bumps. I love fist bumps followed by the explosion, while making explosion noises. I love fist bumps followed by the rocketship, while making rocketship noises. I love the backhanded double slap of the 2004 Red Sox. I love the low five-salute combo of the Morris twins and Tyshawn Taylor. I love the snap-and-point at the end of a shake that was popular in the early 90's (executed most obviously by Zack and Slater, done more subtly and stylishly by Brandon, Dylan, and Steve on Beverly Hills 90210.) I love having 12 different handshakes for 12 different friends. I love that Paul and I have a secret handshake that dates back to 1991. I love that every single time Alfonso and I greet each other, there's a soul shake, a bro-hug, and a Chappelle-like "Uhhhh, son!" involved. I love that in high school, when Boots and I would work the 2 a.m. shift at Perkins, we'd pass the time by practicing our 35-step handshake that was every bit as awesome (and as nerdy) as you're probably picturing right now. I love that when Ringer played on our co-ed softball team, her and I made our dugout look like LeBron and the Cavaliers. I love having secret handshakes with girlfriends (after intimate times, Christine and I like to employ the James Harden-Kevin Durant double-tap high-five.)

So if you see me on the streets, don't greet me like I'm your potential future father-in-law, or like we just got done signing the Declaration of Independence or something. Let's keep it real, son. Gimme some dap.

Girl Scout? Or Crack Dealer?

So the other day Lane and I were sitting at his place watching football and the President's Cup on tape delay. I glanced out the window, and from about three houses away, I saw a girl walking down the sidewalk, holding a piece of paper with a familiar-looking color combination. Instantly, I popped out of my chair and started flailing around, yelling "Is that girl holding a girl scout cookie form? Is she selling cookies? Is that a girl scout? That's gotta be the cookie form, right?"

I threw on my shoes (I'm not like Dane Cook-- I don't say "fuck shoes" in this situation) and ran out yelling at her to come this way, forgetting that my wallet was in my car, and the keys to my car were back inside on the table, so I had to run back in the house, and then I slammed the door on my hand and had to jump around to shake the pain off, and I riled up Padme (the dog) so she started barking and woke up Finn (the toddler).....and all I would've had to do was wait for the girl to make her way down the block and I would've got cookies either way. I really don't know what happened or why I freaked out so much; I think I blacked out for a couple minutes. All Lane could do was shake his head at me and say "You've got problems, man." I wouldn't say that being able to recognize the girl scout cookie form from 125 yards away is a problem, really....I look at it as something I should start putting on my resume. Different strokes for different folks, I guess.

What can I say, I hadn't bought any girl scout cookies yet this year and I was fiending pretty hard. I'm like the dude in Requiem for a Dream, I would absolutely pawn off my mom's TV and then buy it back every few days, if it meant I could get my Caramel Delites fix. Also, kudos to the rule change that now the girl scouts carry the cookies with them, instead of having to wait an interminable amount of time until they arrive. I'm a weak man when it comes to food.

And on that note, my goal for tomorrow is to eat at least 5 pounds of turkey meat. My single-day record for Thanksgiving weight gain is 7 pounds, set back in 2001, so I think this is an attainable goal-- depending on how many nervous beers I have tonight during the KU/Duke game. Generally I don't like to be hungover on Thanksgiving since I want my stomach to be in prime condition, but we haven't played Duke in eight years, so exceptions might be made.

Happy Thanksgiving and ROCK CHALK JAYHAWK.

Things I Can't Stop Saying And I Hate Myself For It

After somebody says something I enthusiastically agree with:

"Right?!?"

(See also: "I know, right?!?")

Years ago, when it seemed like the only people who said this were ditzy girls, I always cringed when I heard it. Now it seems pretty commonplace, and I've fallen right into the trap. Is this happening to anyone else? Are you feeling as self-loathing about it as I am? I hate myself a little bit more each and every time I say it. I dunno, I've been listening to a lot of Seal lately for some reason. It's a confusing time for me.

Awesome With A Capital 'A'

When my friends' teams are supposed to be really good in an upcoming season, I like to hear their thoughts on the upcoming season. Also it helps me out, because usually I'm jazzed up about college basketball starting and I can fire off a couple thousand words by myself, but right now I'm too lazy because awhile ago I went on a heroic three-day bender consisting of 38 hours of drinking. Since then, I've now been sick for a full week straight. I am sans energy. On a scale of 1-10, I'm completely exhausted.

Up first, representing Kentucky, is Hendo:

‘I’m here because I can recruit the best of the best here’ ‘When that uniform gets put on and it says Kentucky, you become the Biggest game on that teams schedule.’ ‘This is the right place if you are trying to win a National Title.’ All quotes from the press conference in 2009 welcoming John Calipari as the new University of Kentucky Men’s Basketball Coach. There’s one thing missing from that list. A National Title. Why not this year? This year’s team may be the better of the three teams Cal has put together at UK. I see this year’s team more like a team from the Pitino era. Where they can run the floor with the best of them and have 4 or 5 guys who can make the 3pt shot on a consistent basis. Kentucky’s starting lineup may have two of the best 10 players in all of College Basketball; Anthony Davis and Terrance Jones. Then you throw a veteran player like Darius Miller who may be the best defender on the team. Along with the unbelievable recruiting class of Michael Kidd-Gilchrist, Kyle Wiltjer, and Marquis Teague. With two HUGE non-conference matchups with Kansas and North Carolina you’ll see what this team has to offer in a hurry. I don’t know if I want to compare this team to any of the great Kentucky teams, but it sure has potential.

The Kansas matchup doesn’t scare me quick as much as one would think. The only player in concern would be Thomas Robinson and even then I think he will be in quick foul trouble if KU plays anything but a zone defense. Bill Self doesn’t play zone defense! The North Carolina game on the other hand as everyone is referring it to a National Championship preview is going to be extremely tough. I haven’t seen enough of UNC’s team to grasp their playing style, but they returned almost everyone and loaded up backups. Let’s just be glad this isn’t college football where the loser of this game would almost be out of the National Title race. Nobody in the SEC scares me at the point for a conference contender. Expect this team to run-n-gun and hit the century mark more times than not this year. “They had it before you, they had it during you, they’ll have it when you’re gone” – Al McGuire. Go! Big! Blue!

(Editor's note: I hate that Calipari went to coach Kentucky, because I used to respect them and kind of enjoy their teams a little bit. Those teams they had in '96 and '97, with like 8 or 9 pros on it...man they were fun to watch. But now Calipari coaches them and I hate them with every inch of my soul, and I'm almost as fired up for tomorrow's game as I would be for a tournament game.)

(Editor's note: it's fun to write editor's notes when I actually am the editor. Normally I'm just writing editor's notes about my own writing, which is a questionable joke at best.)


Up next is Fundy, for UNC:

TAR!!!!! HEELS!!!!!! The 2011-2012 season will be bringing a lot of joy and happiness to the Fundy household. The TAR!!!!! HEELS!!!! will be locked, LOADED, and ready for anything getting in their path on the way to a National Championship! With two lottery picks and a first round draft pick coming back The TAR!!! HEELS!!! are the favorites to be cutting the nets down in New Orleans! Anything less WILL be a disappointment. The starting five with Tyler Zeller and John Henson in the front court, Dexter Strickland and first team All American two straight years HARRISON BARNES on the wing, and the man controlling the point, Kendall Marshall the Heels will be a tough team to beat. Along with the strong starting five, the Heels bring in James McAdoo, who would be a starting big man on any other roster, and P.J. Hairston who will be a good outside shooter and a future first round pick. Along with two top freshmen coming in you have Reggie Bullock and Justin Watts bringing a strong bench to a great starting five. Should be a great 2011-2012 season for the Heels!! Lets make it National Championship #7 boys!! Duke Sucks!

(Editor's note: right before the UNC/Michigan St. game on the aircraft carrier last Friday, I texted Fundy and told him that I hoped Japan tried to torpedo the ship and the whole team died. His response: "that's the only way anyone stops them this year." So I'd say he likes Carolina's chances.)


Horp, also for UNC:

This season will be both exciting and nerve wracking at the same time. Having a tall white guy, a guy who needs as many cheeseburgers as Dunph needs to lose, and a solid sophomore leading the team should be interesting. Being the unanimous number one isn't the best for a young team. Might go to their head. But with a point guard that can push it, they will be fun to watch. I cannot wait to get the season underway. As long as Fundy doesn't get caught with a ten-year-old in the shower, this season will be a success.

(Editor's note: Penn St. jokes already, Horp? Too soon alert!)


Noles, on behalf of Duke:

I am excited for the upcoming year. We have some great shooters in Curry, Dawkins, and Rivers. To make a good run in the tourney Duke will need to rely more heavily on their big men. I am looking for big play out of the Plumlee brothers and Ryan Kelly. I hope you notice how I kept Kelly off the good shooters list. Keep your shots inside the 3 point line or you are going to see the end of the bench Kelly. I'm excited to see Duke's other freshman in action with guard Quinn Cook, forward Michael Gbinijie, and forward Alex Murphy. I can tell you right now I will need a nickname for Gbinijie because I am not pronouncing that name all season. I would also like to congratulate Coach K who soon pass Bob Knight on the all-time wins list.

(Editor's note: I would like to congratulate Coach K on considering himself "not just a basketball coach, but a leader of men." Man I hate Coach K. With all these scandals rocking college sports, is it too much to ask for Coach K to get caught with a kid in the shower? OK, Horp, you were right, Penn St. jokes are allowed.)

***************

As for me, I'm a bit sad and concerned about this year for KU. Sad because last year's team really snuck up on me and they quietly became my 5th favorite KU team of all-time (after 2002, 2003, 2008, and 2007, and yes I keep track of these things.) I'm just gonna miss the attitude and chemistry of last year's team, and losing to VCU in the Elite 8 and ending the year like that just sucked. Side note: I'm a pretty pessimistic fan; some might even say overly pessimistic. My glass isn't half-empty-- my glass is just seconds away from being knocked over and shattered onto the floor into a million pieces. But twice in my life, and ONLY twice, I've been cocky about KU's chances: once in 2003, after they beat Marquette by like 70 points in the Final Four and I thought they'd kill Carmelo and Syracuse in the championship....and before last year's VCU game. We brought bottles of champagne and snuck them into the bar with us, in anticipation of the rowdy celebration sure to ensue after KU won. Instead, the game ended with me sneaking out the back door of the bar with 30 seconds left so I could go sit in the parking lot and drink out of the bottle by myself. So needless to say, I will NEVER be cocky about KU again.

I'm concerned because 80% of the scoring from last year's team is gone. I'd be mashing the panic button already if Coach Self hadn't already proved in 2009 that he could coach a team the year after everybody leaves (everybody from the regular rotation besides Sherron Collins was gone that year, and Self took them to a Big 12 title and the Sweet 16.) But just like that year I thought that KU was horribly underrated by only getting the #25 preseason ranking, I don't think that this year's team is anywhere close to being the #13 team as of right now. I think this year's ranking is more a reflection on how many times Self has brought his teams further than they deserve to go, rather than a reflection on their actual talent. The Kentucky game on Tuesday should be interesting. I could see KU sneaking out a win (Self owns Calipari) and I could see KU losing by 30 (Kentucky is really fucking stacked.)

Also, a year after losing THREE Wall-of-Fame members (Brady Morningstar and the Morris twins) I felt like I was going to be lost without a go-to guy. But it only took about 13 minutes of the first exhibition game for me to start calling Naadir Tharpe 'my boy.' And with always-exciting Elijah Johnson finally about to get his chance to play real minutes (and busting out an undershirt for the season opener-- we all know my feelings about undershirts in college basketball!!!) I think I've got two pretty solid candidates for my favorite player. After a ridiculous stretch of KU being a #1 seed four of the last five years, and winning 15 more games than anyone else in the country over that time frame, I suppose we're due for a down year. Even though they're ranked #13, any time you find yourself saying the words "Oh my goodness, we need to get Tyshawn Taylor back in this game to settle things down RIGHT NOW".....well, that counts as a down year in my book.

Rock Chalk.

Jobby Jobby Jobby

Just a heads up, it might be slim pickins' on posts for a little while. 90% of my blogging time comes on my lunch break and the 5-10 minutes at the beginning and end of the day. I'm envisioning my lunch breaks being filled up with extra training and meetings and catching up on emails because I'll be missing out on The Boards all morning long. So just so you know, I might be blogging, I might not. Entertain yourselves accordingly.

In the good news department, with this new job, I can now look out my window and see Phog Allen Fieldhouse, just a couple hundred yards away. On my list of most important work-related benefits, this ranks just above retirement plan and just below health insurance. I mean, I could get seriously injured, so having health insurance is pretty important, I guess. Otherwise being within eyshot of the Phog would be a clear #1.

Also, for my 6th grade friends, don't worry, Tobias & Felipe are still going strong as my pencil holders. Keepin it fresh since 1993, suckas.



OK that's all for now; I'm gonna pop over and see what Coach Self is up to. See if he maybe wants to grab a little Chipotle. Top it off with some Orange Leaf for dessert....only if there's time though. I know he's pretty busy.

Now And Then: The Spice Girls

We're coming up on the 15-year anniversary of the Spice Girls bursting onto the scene (yeeeee-ikes) and it has me in a reflective mood. Being 13 years old at the time, I couldn't have been in a better position to enjoy them for what they were: five smokeshows who made delightful(ly crappy) pop music. And they're British!

I remember one rainy day while visiting relatives in Baltimore, I was forced to share the remote control with my 7-year-old cousin. I got it for two hours (hello Orioles game) and then it was her turn. I was pissed until she told me she was choosing the movie Spiceworld...then I just pretended to be pissed, until I eventually said something like "Wow, this game is borrrrrrring, we might as well just cut my remote time short and put in Spiceworld...no, Melissa, it's cool, just don't ever say I've never done anything for you. We'll count this as your Christmas present from me, if it makes you feel better. OK NOW HURRY UP AND PUT THE MOVIE IN!" To say I was kinda obsessed with the Spice Girls is to say that Wile E. Coyote was kinda obsessed with killing the Roadrunner.

And I was constantly ranking them. New hairdo? Update the rankings. Awesome cleavage shirt on Saturday Night Live? Upppppdate. So I thought I'd take a look, 15 years later.....


Scary Spice
1996 ranking: 1
2011 ranking: 3




She was one of my biggest middle-school crushes ever. Goofy personality, wild hair, great body, sometimes she wore glasses, she was black....hello wheelhouse. Nice to meet you, my name's Jum. But now she's had a bunch of plastic surgery so she doesn't even look like the same person, she's proven herself to be batshit crazy (not in the good way, like I imagined her before), she had the whole baby-daddy drama with Eddie Murphy....blah. Just a whole bunch of turn-offs. But she's still got a ridiculous body and she's still black, so I can't drop her below #3.

Posh Spice
1996 ranking: 2
2011 ranking: 5




Things were a lot better back when I didn't know anything about Victoria Beckham. Back then she was just Posh Spice, the saucy little vixen in the short black dresses who sang about slamming your body down and winding it all around and what she wants what she really really wants and zig a zig ahhhhhh and things like that. Now she's Victoria Beckham, the 78-pound woman with a bleach-blonde Sonic the Hedgehog haircut, hanging out with scientologists and wearing sunglasses that are worth more than my life. You know how some old Native American tribes believed that when you have your picture taken, you lose a little piece of your soul? That's how I feel every time I look into Posh's eyes nowadays. 5 spot.

Baby Spice
1996 ranking: 3
2011 ranking: 2




I had lots of friends who back in the day would've had Baby comin' for that #1 spot (rappers swearin' they on top, nuh uh, nuh uh!) and would probably take offense to this ranking (nobody puts Baby in the corner/3 spot!) But clearly I was more attracted to crazy back before I had ever had a REAL girlfriend (don't worry, Middle School Jum, the crazy ones are coming) so she fell down the rankings a bit. She has aged very well though, and moves up to 2nd in 2011. My little Baby's all growns up and she's all growns up and she's all growns up! A Ludacris, Dirty Dancing, and Swingers reference, all in one paragraph....in a post about the Spice Girls. That's why you guys read this blog. Assuming you're still reading....which I admit is a rather large assumption at this point.

Ginger Spice
1996 ranking: 4
2011 ranking: 4




I never had much of an opinion on ol' Ginger, and I don't have much of one now either. Ipso facto, she stays put at #4. I do think she missed the boat for having a great porn career, though. She just looks like a porn star, and you could play up the red hair in the titles of the movies. There's one in particular I'm thinking of, relating to The Hunt For Red October, but I refuse to get more graphic than that. You connect the dots.

Sporty Spice
1996 ranking: 5
2011 ranking: 1





Now here's the horse coming on strong as they come around turn 3! I used to think Sporty was kinda gross-- not because she was athletic and tomboyish, I've always thought athleticism is attractive-- but because I was pretty sure she could kick my ass (and let's be honest here: I'm sure she still can. The point is that she no longer looks like she WANTS to.) But now I'm starting to think that was all the managers and producers and behind the scenesters' fault, because when left to her own devices....Sporty got hot! Get yourself some, girl! With your bangs and all that.

***************

The important thing for the Spice Girls is that if you wanna be their lover, you gotta get with their friends. Make it last forever, friendship never ends, yada yada yada. If all their friends look like this.....I don't think I'll have a problem gettin' with any of them. Hey-oooo!

Things I Think About During Songs. Volume 3.

Ray LaMontagne is pretty sweet. I enjoy a lot of his songs. I don't quite celebrate his entire catalogue (like the Bobs and Michael Bolton) but he's decently represented on my ipod.

However, when he sings, he sounds like a guy who is trying to get his friend's attention from across the room in a public library. Kind of a restrained yell/whisper. Lately, it's all I can think about when I hear him. "Dude.....duuuuuuuuuuude! I found that Harry Potter book you were looking for! I told you it would be in the young adult section. Hahaha, in the young adult. Totally nailed that one. What? Oh, OK, I'll just come over there...."





There, now you can't unhear that opinion. I hope that like me (and now Christine, for whom I've slightly ruined LaMontagne's songs) you now think of that the next time, and every time, you fire up some Ray. Hopefully it's before, during, or after a love-making session with your significant other-- or that broad in the slutty cat costume you inevitably meet at your Halloween party tonight.

Happy Halloween, from Ray and me.

Like Ma Bell, I Got The ill Communication

For the first time in my life, I'm in love with my cell phone. I'm in iLove.

I resisted cell phones for quite awhile; I was probably in the last 20% of my friends to get one (I have no idea how to phrase that properly. I was in the 20th percentile, assuming that the first person to get one is in the 99th percentile? Let's just say that if I have 100 friends, then I was about the 80th to get a cell phone. Dammit that still sounds stupid.) Then when texting became popular, I resisted that as long as possible too, even adding a rule to the Culligan Manor Charter that said a lap must be done around the apartment for every combination of six texties.

Granted, I did like certain things about cell phones. Having 25 different ringtones for 25 different people: AWESOME. Changing my outgoing voicemail message to the chorus of "U Can't Touch This" except I dubbed my own voice in to yell "Leave a Message!": Also awesome-- anyone who tried to leave me a voicemail in 2003 or 2004 will tell you that. But for the most part, I've hated the actual cellular device. All my phones have disappointed me in some way. As we get older and phones (theoretically) get more badass, I've been even more disenchanted with them. I've thought about just going back to an old school flip phone and rolling sans internet and email, but I couldn't quite pull the trigger.

Everything hit bottom for me during my 18-month ownership of a BlackBerry. I hated almost every day with that thing. When I finally traded it in, and they asked me if I wanted to recycle my BlackBerry for $20, I told them hell no, then took the 'Berry out back and gave it the Office Space treatment. Back up in yo' ass with the resurrection!





OK, you got me. That's a lie. I took the $20. That's almost three burritos and an order of chips & guac from Chipotle.

But now, friends, I have an iPhone, and it's baller as shit. I no longer hate cell phones and think of them exclusively as a necessary evil. This phone actually brings happiness into my life. Sometimes I look at it sitting on the table and just sigh in pleasure.

The one and only thing I don't like about my phone is that it's tough to text with my fat fingers. It sucks because I'm usually a stickler for text message grammar. I hate it when I fire off a texty and realize after the fact that there is a misspelling or grammar mistake. I know I don't always use semicolons; in the right place, but overall I'm pretty good. So right now that's an uphill battle for me, constantly going back and retyping once I found out I hit the wrong button. Once I get that figured out, it's gonna be awesome (I really don't know why 22 years of playing video games doesn't translate into being able to text quickly and efficiently, but them's the breaks.)

So it may have taken over a decade, and I needed to get an iphone and actually have reception in my house for it to happen....but finally the war between cell phones and I is over. There were no winners.

We Live By The Gun, So We Die By The Gun

I finally became a more accepted member of the Hammonds household last weekend while up in Grand Forks. I've got a brother who has been shooting guns and hunting since 2nd grade, and now lives out in the country so he can spend his days shooting targets, water bottles, coyotes, and would-be trespassers without worrying about bothering his neighbors. I've got a mom who attends shooting classes across the country, and is now proficient with multiple types of weaponry. I've got a dad who, at best, could be classified as a gun enthusiast....at worst, he's a man in possession of both an attitude and a weapons cache that makes him capable of a David Koresh-type last stand against the government, God forbid it ever came to that (and with the Democrats currently running the country, I'm certainly not ruling it out. My parents make Bill O'Reilly look like a liberal arts student at the University of Colorado.)


This may be a picture of the Branch Davidian compound in 1993....but it may as well be a future picture of my parents' house on West Fallcreek Court if Obama gets re-elected next fall.


Then you have me, who not only had never fired a gun before, but didn't even like being around them, and for many years refused to play Big Buck Hunter in the bars because what did those poor animals ever do to you? I actually had wanted to try shooting for the last few years, but various excuses kept getting in the way. I'm too hungover; there's a Laguna Beach marathon on TV; I'm re-tying all my shoelaces that night (Boom! Stacey Carosi reference there. That was her excuse for getting out of a date with McSteamy about 15 years before Grey's Anatomy. Oh, you didn't know that was him, did you? Did you know that Pinsky from Salute Your Shorts went on to be the lead guitarist for Rilo Kiley? Cover your head, I'm dropping early 90's Where Are They Now? trivia in here!)

So finally last weekend my family, along with Christine, Bergman, and Bergman's girlfriend LZE, went out to Brother's place, set up the targets, and made me into a grown-ass North Dakota man. It went well; it was quite a bit easier than I thought. I shot a 9mm and a .45 (whatever the hell those numbers mean) and though we weren't exactly shooting from a long distance, I was still able to pretty much hit where I was aiming most the time. I figured I'd barely be able to hit the board, much less the bullseye area, and maybe I would accidentally shoot someone in the foot, and that there would definitely be crying involved. My confidence grew exponentially after my first few shots, and it was all I could do to keep from throwing on a red bandana, sagging my pants, turning the gun sideways, and screaming "Break yo' self fool!" while bustin' caps on that snitch-ass target.

So while I've still got a ways to go in my gun career-- it's troubling to have the knowledge that, if I was to have an Aaron Burr-Alexander Hamilton-style duel with my own mother, she would be able to kill me three times before I even got the gun out of its holster-- but at least I've taken the first baby steps. Anyone want to go shoot some wild animals this weekend? A gorilla? Or a rhinocerous? Or a fucking human being? That'll get ya jacked up. You know, like a worthy adversary. Not a human being that's armed....but a clever, clever human being who knows the jungle.

Captain Tying Knots

I was going to omit a blog on JonJon and Amanda's wedding, similar to how they omitted Horp and I from the shout-out paragraphs in their wedding program (when even the friggin' READER got her own paragraph, what a slap in the face)....but I decided I'm a bigger man than that.

Random thoughts from the weekend:

- I'm gonna say something that may sound blasphemous, especially coming from me, the same guy who wrote this post once upon a time. We're gonna get it out of the way, right at the beginning.....I think I kinda liked not having a wedding dance. (Gasp!) At this point, we've done the wedding dance thing. Every sub-friend group within my entire friend group, we've done the damn thing. Multiple times. We've all seen each other do the Apache, the Macarena, the Electric Slide, the Chicken Dance, etc. etc. Plus, wedding dances go by too fast. They're like huge keggers in college; the next morning you wake up, and you know that you talked to 67 different people....but it still feels like you didn't talk to anybody. Convos at wedding dances just miss that intimacy, you know? Probably because I'm either a) screaming at the other person, to be heard over Kool & the Gang being played a couple notches too loud; or b) leaving conversations right in the middle because I heard the opening few notes of SexyBack and there's no way I'm gonna miss that song to hear about how tough grad school is right now, bro.

When dinner was winding down, our table had our doubts. What would we do for the next couple hours? Should I go try and plug in my ipod? What if I just stood up and started yelling "Sliiiiide to the left! Sliiiiide to the right! Two stomps this time! Two stomps this time!" Would a wedding dance just break out? (Both Aimee and Lisa said yes, and really wanted me to try it.) But lo and behold, the next couple hours of open bar and open conversations were fantastic-- I didn't miss dancing at all. Clutch move with the open bar, newlyweds. Clutch move. Also, the over/under for times somebody said "Open bar, dudes!" like Farva in Super Troopers was set at 5.5, and we hit the over within 15 minutes.


OK, so there was a liiiiiittle bit of dancing....it's not like it was banned like the town in Footloose or anything. Plus Horp and I figured since we weren't mentioned in the program, we should get a special Usher Dance or something. Remember the old Kid 'n' Play dance? One of my all-time faves.


And although it was more fulfilling catching up with people without a dance getting in the way, I still don't remember much, because....

- I might be the worst person in the world at remembering non-numerical details about people and their lives. We'll sit there and chitchat, and they'll tell me what's happening in their life, and the next day my mom or somebody will be like "Oh, you ran into ____, what is she up to?" And I'll blank for a second and stammer out "I'm pretty sure she's studying gerontology or optometry or clinical pyschology...I dunno, she's gonna be a doctor in a few years I think." However, if that person would've told me she was playing in the WNBA and averaging 13.3 points, 6.4 rebounds, and 4.2 assists in 27 minutes per game, I would be able to recite that verbatim the next day. It's just the way my brain works. I need numbers.

- In a weekend full of running jokes** here was my favorite: there was a girl in attendance, Jamie (I'm not worried about using a fake name here because even though I usually write everything under the assumption that the person in question is reading, there's like a 4% chance she sees this. Also, I'm not concerned if she does-- it's a funny story.) We got along really well in 8th grade Life Skills class. I made jokes and kept her laughing; she fixed pretty much all of my projects so I didn't fail the class. Those of you who know how worthless I am at day-to-day tasks are nodding in agreement right now. Can you imagine getting held back in middle school because you continually mixed lights with darks while doing laundry, or burning the shit out of your casserole? That could've easily happened to me.

I also thought she was cute, and was preparing to "ask her out", whatever that entailed in 8th grade....and then the flood hit and instantly ended our school year. Then we went to separate high schools, didn't see each other for a few years, she got super-hot, and all of a sudden she became the only girl in my life I was ever unable to talk to. Bing bang boom. Just totally intimidated. I saw her around town every once in a while, and we've probably said 10 words to each other since 1997. So it became this running joke, that she was the middle school version of The One Who Got Away-- especially after we found out that she was friends with JonJon's then-girlfriend-now-wife Amanda. He found out that at one point she was living in Boston, and loved to give me shit that if the Flood of '97 never happened, I'd probably be living across the street from Fenway and have season tickets to my beloved Red Sox right now. The fact that she is now married with a kid hasn't slowed down our jokes at all.

So after an entire weekend of making jokes like "Katie, wanna do me a favor? Go up to Jamie, point at me, and say something like 'Damn, that Jum Hammonds really grew up, didn't he?" or "Horp, if she walks in and I'm not by the door to usher her in, I'm gonna make a bird call, and you have to stop and tie your shoe or something so I can get back in time to do it" or "Christine, on a scale of 1-10, how mad would you be if we broke up this weekend so I can follow my destiny? I mean, you'd be able to find a ride back to Kansas, right?" Saturday night was winding down. Jamie went to say goodbye to JonJon, and as she's walking away, JonJon, with more than a few in him, yells across the bar "OH BY THE WAY JAMIE, JUM HAMMONDS SAYS GOODYBE TOO!" Just totally puts me on blast. All I can do is sheepishly wave at Jamie, while giving JonJon my best "What the fuck, dude" face. It was pretty hilarious. A much better usher present than the tie he gave me. So thanks for that, big guy.

**Other running jokes: Horp and his dry hands-- the joke that keeps on giving; callling MyShawn 'Cat Stevens', another one that will never get old; Noles getting caught chewing in bed by Jenna; Schneweis' dad being a badass; calling Christine 'Waldo' because she's tall and skinny, and last time she was in GF she wore a red-and-white-striped shirt; a couple others that I can't type here because they're not suitable for the World Wide Web (remember, assume that everybody in the world reads this) and probably a few others that the ol' booze brain can't remember.

- Great wedding, great people, great weekend. Congrats to Mr. and Mrs. JonJon. FYI, I chose this picture because it's taken after the wedding, yet the big guy still has the deer-in-the-headlights look. It's over now, dude. It's done. No take-backsies.

Northbound

I'm heading up north tonight for JonJon's wedding weekend. Hello Red Pepper, Popolino's, Ray Richards golf course, charitable gaming, and last but not least, hello old Grand Forks friends (but probably closer to least than to first-- Red Pepper white sauce definitely ranks above a lot of my shitbag friends.) I'll see you all soon.

Also hello Dumb & Dumber tuxedos, Horp and I are expected to dress ourselves as ushers for this wedding-- always a dangerous move-- and this is what we settled on:


Naturally Horp is wearing Carolina blue, while I will sport orange.

Just kidding Amanda, we'd never actually do that. Or would we.....?

It's A Trap!

The golf course I have my side job at began being managed by Billy Casper Golf in about April of this year. The first time I saw their logo, I was confused. First of all, I couldn't tell what it was supposed to be for quite a while. A flower? A frog? A burn victim? (Nope, a buffalo.) And secondly, it looked familiar to me as something else, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Then I finally realized it was a dead ringer for Admiral Ackbar from Star Wars. And I absolutely cannot get that image out of my head now.

So for the last few months, I've been dying to make a million "It's a trap!" jokes, or maybe even drop a little "Our cruisers can't repel firepower of that magnitude!", but nobody else at the course is a Star Wars nerd like me, so it's mostly wasted. The only guy who even knows who Admiral Ackbar is by name is the teaching pro, who is in his late-40's, greets everyone with an almost Bill Lumbergh-sounding "What's happening, my young brother?" and gives off a generally creepy vibe, despite being a nice guy. So since I have nobody to really enjoy this with, I foist it upon all of you.

(Editor's note: as I was finishing up this post, listening to my ipod on shuffle, the Star Wars theme came on. So between writing about Admiral Ackbar, and that song randomly coming on, if you don't think there's a 100% chance I'm popping in Episode IV right about....now, then you don't know me very well.)

Begrudgingly

Growing up, I disliked Joseph Gordon-Levitt as much as a random kid from North Dakota could dislike a famous teenage actor. Some of it was because of his work-- I never liked the show 3rd Rock From the Sun, and I always hated Angels in the Outfield.

(Side story: my friend Podge and I always did a DVD exchange for Christmas, where we would tell the other exactly which movie to buy for ourselves, but we'd still go through the rigamarole of wrapping it up and presenting it to the other, you know, in the spirit of Christmas. One year, she requested Angels in the Outfield, and I flat-out refused to buy it for her, breaking the gentleman's agreement we had with our DVD exchange. It sparked an argument that is unresolved to this day...and I guarantee if you mention the movie to her, the first thing she'll say is that she had to buy it for herself because I was being a dick. So that's how much I hated Angels in the Outfield.)

But really, if I'm being honest with myself, there was one big reason why I hated him: he was dating Larisa Oleynik, a.k.a Alex Mack, a.k.a. one of my all-time biggest celebrity crushes, Girl Next Door Category (she's probably one step below pre-jersey chaser-era Hilary Duff, and one step above Connie Moreau from the Mighty Ducks.) The fact that he was with MY girl blinded me to everything else. Having to watch them hook up in 10 Things I Hate About You drove me crazy. Not quite crazy enough to change the channel during one of the 87 times I've watched the movie on TV over the years....but crazy enough that I was simmering every time he was onscreen.

But then JG-L was in Inception, and that movie quickly jumped into my top 5 or 10 favorite movies of all time, and his character was awesome. And I just watched 50/50 last weekend, and that movie was superb, and he should probably win some sort of award for his performance. (Just in case anybody happened to see me in the theater during the 7:50 showing on Friday night...my allergies have been AWFUL lately. I swear.) Plus he's going to be in the next Batman movie, and we all know that movie will be Baller with a capital B, so I'm going to go ahead and give him a checkmark for that one too.

So now here's where I'm at with JG-L: I'm like Wes Mantooth at the end of Anchorman, where I'm holding Ron Burgundy's ladder over the bear pit and threatening to let go. I hate you, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, I HATE you. But dammit.....I respect you.

(Seriously, my allergies....I mean, the pollen count is CRAZY this year, am I right? That shit is everywhere.)