Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Fake blood and you ... a pranksters guide

This story was told out in Vegas, and I cannot believe I hadn't put it up here yet. Stupid memory loss.

So some random night in Evanston, Paulie, Joe and I (I'm sure there were others there--Mueller?) proceed to tie one on. I think we started with 40s purchased across the street at D&D Ghetto Grocery, followed by caps, gravity bongs, and the 1800 Club. As an aside for those who know, 1800 Club>PURE, despite the presence of Cornelius.

So we kick it in the 1800 Club beer garden for a while, get even more plastered, and eventually head back to my apartment while committing felonious acts of vandalism.

A quick note about the apartment, because it's important later. Joe and I lived on the "garden" level of a 4-story apartment building just off NU campus. It was pretty good size for 2 people, but still fairly ghetto due its lack of windows and the general economic instability of its tenants. My bedroom featured glass double doors into the living room, which I had classily taped up with old newspapers. But we did have two TVs for some reason.

So anyway, we get back and chill to the free cable, and as per usual, Joe passes out on the couch. Not sure how it started, but Paulie and I decide to fuck with him, frankly, because we could. It was one of the most enjoyable things about my senior year -- having someone pass out on the couch every night, and messing with him at our leisure.

So anyway, I have the brilliant idea to bust out the fake blood I have left over from Halloween. I think we put some on his hand and arm. And laughed uproariously. But Joe did not wake, and eventually we passed out ourselves.

The next morning Joe awoke and found himself covered in (what he thought was) blood, so he predictably freaked the fuck out. I got you good you fucker. But this is where it gets even more ridiculous.

The alcoholic super decided this was the morning that he needed to show the apartment to 2 innocent young coeds. Joe tried to persuade him at the door, but old drunk John super was having none of it. Dadgum it, he was going to illegally show this apartment whether it was going to rent or not.

So he brings them in, past the trashed kitchen, into the living room which has 40s, caps, beer cans and probably drug paraphenalia strewn all over in the haphazard manner typical of a mini-bender.

Joe maybe still had blood on him and definitely was rocking a wife-beater covered in bacon grease. Paul was lying on the futon giggling maniacly. I, still asleep in my room, heard the commotion and burst out of the double doors in my boxers. Pretty much everybody is like, WTF is going on, except for Paulie, who is still giggling.

Needless to say no one else came to see our apartment for the rest of the year.

The kicker is the super still insisted on looking at the bedrooms, only to discover Joe's blood covered sheets.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Why I like Chelsea

In my 20 odd years as a Philadelphia sports fan, I have undergone all kinds of agony.

So close and yet so far: Eagles go to 4 straight NFC championship games, yet fail to win a Super Bowl. What is this, Buffalo?

Incandescent and irreplaceable:
A great player who defies description ends up leaving town without a championship after an acrimonious fallout. Witness the current saga involving Iverson. Please let him go to Miami Denver. And don't get me started on TO.

Inevitable yet frustrating: I was at a World Series game(4) at the late Veterans Stadium, where the Phillies lost 15 to 14. Followed by the inevitable Joe Carter HR in game 6. I'm just glad I was young enough when this happened that most of the negative memories have been blocked.

Mythological: '64 Phillies lose the pennant after being up 6 1/2 games with 12 to play. Chico Ruiz stealing home was the start of it all. I don't even know who Chico Ruiz is, but I hate him.

Idiotic: Within our constant anguish, Philadelphia sports fans are portrayed and seen as boorish, stupid, insane, drunk and even racist. This probably bothers me worse than anything my teams have done. After all, I can't do anything about what the Phillies or Eagles actually do on the field, but I am a philly fan and that gives me some kind of responsibility to our collective national perception, in theory.
We don't all eat cheesesteaks you stupid fucks.

ANYWAY, as I increasingly become a fan of the English Premier League (EPL), I find myself able to root for whichever team I choose. I had brief flings with Arsenal, Liverpool and Everton, but I think Chelsea is the team for me. They have won the last two EPL titles. Even the nickname given to them by their rival fans -- Chelski -- is badass.
And they have Didier Drogba, who provided the fantastic late goal that may just propel them to another league title.

It would be the first championship a team I support has ever won.

edit: they lost

Monday, December 18, 2006

Vegas baby, uhhhh Vegas?

I was going to be generous call it the "KE Kicked-off Campus Memorial Vegas bachelor party", but in lieu of recent events I think "complete abortion" is better. Damn you cop for pulling me over on my way home from the airport and issuing me a $150 citation when I have exactly $13.56 to my name. You truly are a competent public servant who I wish dead.

Despite the excessive amounts of fear and loathing on this trip, I did have a good time, I think.
For example, seeing all the peeps was fantastic. Even DJ.
Also, riding in a stretch Hummer is a frivolous expense I can handle. Even if the ride is only 6 minutes long. YEAH! /little jon
And whiskey is always good.

That said, four days in Vegas is too much. Do not deny it. By the end I was breathing out some sort of THC/nicotine-based mist and hallucinating due to sleep deprivation and over-stimulation of the senses.

But walking back from the buffet using all of my severely limited mental capabilities to keep from vomiting all over the casino was a good challenge.

I will get into more details later, but I'm tired as shit right now and need to relax to some quality television. Ok lets see ... Domino? Damn you HBO!

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

All hail the elusive bog turtle

Ah the turtle.
Truly one of natures greatest creatures.

Condiment Fight

Preface: I received some "constructive criticism" from a "reader" and apparently there isn't enough "coherent narrative" here at the old Fainting Goats. In my defense I do this for my own entertainment (read the subhead), but I'll admit that anything with a timestamp after 4 am is not to be trusted.

But anyway, back to the bread and butter that everyone craves. Thats right -- stories I can barely remember from some random time I got drunk!

I'm sure everyone has held a bottle of ketchup and thought to themselves, what if I had a food fight, except limited only to condiments? No? Well let me tell ya, it is fucking glorious and hilarious and gay.

One time at the old KE my nemesis and I returned from a luckless night at the bar.

Nemesis and I had, as was tradition, been giving each other shit all night with no other purpose than to see if we could get under each other's skin. This came to a head while we were sitting in the basement/kitchen of KE, which was stocked with assorted food products. Grantpiece and Fancy were there as well.

Fancy had, as was tradition, been gorging himself while uttering such gems as, "aaaaaahahhaha BEEF" and smearing roast beef all over his face. This required copious amounts of ketchup, mustard, probably relish, and of course Sweet Baby Ray's BBQ sauce.

At some point nemesis made some snide remark and I held a squeeze bottle of mustard at his eye in a threatening way. Said eye then got a mischievous glint that was only too familiar, and I knew it was on.

We stripped out of our bar clothes and into our skivvies cause we couldn't afford new bar clothes (Northwestern education at work), and proceded to basically spray the hell out each other (and the KE basement) with all the condiments we could get our hands on. The coup de grace was when I threw a tray of croutons at my nemesis, many of which stuck to his mustard and ketchup covered back.

Sidenote: There was a glorified janitor that worked in the KE kitchen during the day. His name was Vince and he was a big ass black dude from the south side. Vince was the man, not to mention totally nuts. He had been stabbed, shot and generally lived in the ghetto his whole life, but still put up with a bunch of privileged/drunken Northwestern frat boys on a regular basis. Probably because of the reverence we showed when he showed off his stabbing scars. Also, Vince drank 40s with us in the Kave.

After the fight, my nemesis and I decided we didn't want to make Vince clean up our horrific mess, so we did a half assed cleanup ourselves, which restored the kitchen to a state not unlike a normal night, ie there was beef and smashed fruit all over the place.

Aftermath: After getting cleaned up -- or maybe before -- all 4 of us decided it would a good idea to fuck with the 2nd floor(we lived on the 3rd and 4th floors). So we stole the partition between their two bathroom stalls and put it on the 4th floor sundeck. They didn't get it back for at least a couple months, and a few of them even said they enjoyed the double-wide bathroom stall. I should pull the same prank at work.

As far as I know, there is still mustard on the ceiling in the now boarded up KE kitchen.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Avatar? WTF is Avatar!

I was supremely amused looking at my yahoo avatar today. For some reason my pseudo digital self is wearing a turkey suit. Not sure why I made that choice. It is disappointing that the tail obsures the alien standing next to me.

Also yahoo apparently has been tracking my fantasy sports leagues all these years, compiling everything. I had a team called Lords of the Bling in an NBA fantasy league in 2003 that somehow finished second. Thats an imaginary silver trophy lining my virtual trophy case. HIGH FIVE!

But anyway, back to avatars. For me to understand avatars I look to 2 sources:

Snow Crash: A book by Neal Stephenson, where Hiro Protagonist's avatar runs wild as a samurai sword weilding badass in the three dimensional computer created world known as the "Metaverse". This is the best science fiction book I've read, probably.

The Matrix: As Morpheus puts it -- digital representation of our physical self. This version springs directly from the users subconcience. Better put -- slaves mind. But I can't get into the Matrix, cause its pretty complicated.

So yeah, I know avatars are digital representations of computer users in a virtual world. Be them sprung from the users imagination(Snow Crash) or the subconcious(The Matrix).

While I hate to say the Matrix is not realistic -cough- Snow Crash's avatars are far closer to my turkey suit wearing jerkass.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Bomb the system

OK sorry, I have to put this up, just be glad its not a tool video.

Also--old news, Ryan Howard IS MVP.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Anger is a gift

Because there isn't enough on the Internets that is barely comprehensible to the author, let alone any poor soul who stumbles across it and dares to attempt reading for comprehension...

Was he robbed of the asphalt that cushioned his face?

Is it possible fight a class war with guns?
Cause I think we got the numbers.
When Warren Buffet is bitching about paying too little taxes, I know there's something wrong.

And then you got old Newt. Honestly, when reading that Newt Gingrich may run for president, I can't help but think I am on the wrong side, living here the U.S.

We worship our own shit. Literally praying to the porcelain god.
Sure theres the whole Christianity thing we got going, what with the fundies and G-Dub and all, but lets get real. Does anyone with an IQ over 90 outside of Colorado Springs actually believe in the rapture? I mean seriously, Jesus Camp? WTF! Seeing insanity replace the golden rule makes me far more confident in my atheism.

People here care more about Paris Hilton grabbing Britney Spears' titty than they do about the lives of thousands of people who worship a slightly different god.

In the newsroom we joke that 1,000 Iraqis dead=1 American dead, for newsworthyness (not a word). There is a whole breakdown that could be its own post. And its funny cause its true. Gotta love dark humor.

So the question is -- Can history repeat itself?

The answer is most certainly yes, especially if you ignore the past.
A majority of Americans would gladly accept new insect fascist overlords, as long as quality television programming like American Idol and Dancing with the Stars remains uninterrupted.

This is the kind of thinking that can set me off into some serious depression, so I better stop now. Happy thoughts....

2 weeks til VEGAS BABY VEGAS! Digital camera in hand, that will make for some good blogging.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Happy Thanksgiving

A couple of go-go 80s reaganauts like us? We could rule this world.
No question.
If only someone would give us a shot.
They're scared of our raw power! But if you want a job, i could beg everyone at the company where I work.
Awesome, awesome to the Max.

I am thankful for Wolfmother in concert. Like watching Led Zepplin in 1970, except with a pit. MY neck is still sore from getting down. They played Joker and the Thief with a nervous breakdown. Think about it. Plus the straight-up Soundgarden riff in the middle via COLLOSUS. sweet sweet encore.

The bassist/keyboard ran the stage -- only dude in the electric factory that smoked a cig in public. Not to say there wasn't smoke.
Lead guitar/vocals rocked the fro, and the guitar over his head.
Drummer beat that like a cop on a black man in LA.

(aside: this was the best show i have seen since Saturday night at Woodstock 99, ie Limp Biscuit, Rage against the Machine and Metallica)

But anyway, what am I actually thankful for? I'm gonna keep it simple. 5 sports figures.

5- Donovan McNabb. He should be higher. But I gotta put five at 5.

4- Andre Iguodala. AI squared.

3- AI. You talkin bout practice.

2- Ryan Howard. NL MVP, not on drugs.

1- Anyone that can fucking win a championship.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

2 ships passing in the night

WTF, my roommate just left for work, not more than 2 hours after I got home from a particularly hellish stint in the old ink mine.

Imagine me, knee deep in whiskey at 4 am, and hey, there's Steve, random new roommate I've met like 4 times getting up and heading off to work by 4:20.

I just don't know what to make of it.
Earlier(1am) I was considering a conversion from atheism to the church of reality, but I thought better. The "church" uses the word real approximately 5 to the 10 times within its "teachings."
Its still better than christianity.

But anyway, my roommate is gone for the day so I'm gonna go trash this place.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Enjoyable: Detroit Rock City

I could say "so bad its good" but that wouldn't make sense, cause this movie isn't even bad. And I owe a good movie, cause after pimping XXX so hard a couple weeks back I feel dirty.
Anyway, Detroit Rock City kicks some serious ass.
If you haven't seen it, the plot is about 4 friends going to see a KISS concert in Detroit during the '70s. Imagine Dazed and Confused except Metal instead of Wooderson and ghetto-detroit instead of hick-texas.

Key scenes:

They break Jam out of some sort of boarding school by giving the head guy magic mushrooms, even though it creates one of the few plot holes. I plead the fifth on describing this if you don't understand.

Hawk starts his strip show by filling a pitcher with vomit.

Jam loses his virginity in a confessional. To a Jewish girl no less. Sacrilicious!

They throw a pizza slice onto the hood of a pontiac while driving down the highway.

Anything involving Stretch Armstrong.

Hawk trying to buy tickets off a scalper, and the scalper convinces Hawk of the quality of a KISS show with the phrase "big breasteses in tight vesteses."


Thursday, November 16, 2006

Here's your Patriot Act!

Repeatedly tasering UCLA students for not showing ID?
Sounds like a good idea.

Here's the video.

A few thoughts:

- Yelling at cops about the patriot act and abuse of power never works. But kudos to that dude anyway, and I'm sure mucho volts running through your body has got to get that adrenaline pumping like a bastard.

- Pretty sure its hard to stand up after being tased.

- If you don't carry an ID on you at all times, you risk being tased.

I am sick to my stomach, back to some red hot NBA action!

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Hey Mr. Jack, this is the cause of your demise

So I been neglecting the blog over the past couple weeks. Allow me to make it up to you with this skateboarding dog.

Just kidding here’s the video.

Best headline ever -- Judge:Burritos are not sandwiches

That’s all I got.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Normally, I think Bono's a douchebag, but...

Silly rock stars and your implausible scenarios. And if you wonder why i dislike Bono, check out the glasses.

But seriously, the Eagles loss to the Jags put me in a funk like no other. Chanting "Iverson for president" or "AI for prez" and the miraculous finding of Siter's ticket only lightens the mood so much.

First I took the whole "we're nothing but a small speck of dust in the universe" approach, how much does an Eagles loss mean anyways? The answer was nothing. But ended up being too depressing.

Then I realized -- fuck the universe, there's way more important shit than the Eagles here on good old Earth. What with our future of humanity and what have you.

So yeah, in conclusion, vote.

Monday, October 23, 2006

THE KICK IS UP ............................GOOD!

Thanks Merrill, that 5 second delay helped. Seriously.

Matt Bryant's longest FG this season before today was 28 FUCKING yards. FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING KICKER. Sorry my creativity is all gone to be replaced with multiple f bombs.

I will now walk around in a daze for the next 3 days.
Just glad this shit doesn't bother me as much as it used to, or I'd be recreating scenes from Requiem for a Dream before the end of the season.

Whats the record for most losses on the last play of the game in a single season?

Thursday, October 19, 2006

So bad its good -- XXX: State of the Union

Now I know what you are thinking. WTF? XXX: State of the Union? They couldn't even get Vin Diesel for that, and I refuse to see it on general principle. Well, sorry to say, but you are wrong.

Of course, it does have a few knocks against it. Such as the fact that its a sequel to a piece of garbage, the approximately 800 plot holes, and the fact that the director becomes an increasingly jump-cut/MTV-style "filmmaker" as it goes along, making the last half-hour borderline unwatchable.

But it has Ice Cube in his finest performance since, uh, All About the Benjamins? Plus SLJ and Willem Defoe in full-on "gotta make movies to get paid" mode. And a white guy who is constantly refered to as "college boy." So theres that.

Key scenes:

SLJ meets with Ice Cube in prison. Here's where you get some of that precious XXX backstory the viewers demand. Apparently Willem Defoe ordered SLJ and Cubes unit to start some sort of fire, burning civilians or something, and they refused emphatically. So emphatically that Cube was forced to break Defoe's jaw. The highlight of this exchange is SLJ turning his head to reveal a burn scar, to which Ice Cube says "I like what you did with your face."

Cube somehow jumps a boat onto a cop car, followed by him doing the slow motion walk in front of an explosion. Which somehow saves college boy from certain doom.

Any scene with Xzibit, who gets to finally play out his fantasy of owning a chop shop. What? He's got a show where he does that too?

The CGI shots of the capitol building. Not sure if they just couldn't get permission to shoot there, were too lazy, or just thought a CGI capitol would be cool. Personally I hope it was the latter.

Random throwaway line where they say Xander Cage (Vin Diesel from the first movie) was killed in Bora Bora. Well, that explains everything.

The final scene where Cube chases down the presidential bullet train(Guh?) by jumping a car onto the tracks, popping the tires and turing the car into some sort of tiny locomotive. Also Scott Speedman as NSA suit turned badass telling the president to jump into his awaiting arms while being suspended below a helicopter.

Actually, scratch that last one. And yes, I saw this in the theater.

And for your viewing pleasure and general edification, here's a random fan-created trailer I found.
BEWARE SPOILERS! Just kidding. Not really.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

straight up breaking shit

Ah, destruction and or petty vandalism. I guess this counts as another episode of drunken tales. Good times.

A few specific instances illustrate my point. There are many more assorted streetsign-stealing, mailbox-knocking-over related incidents that lend to the memories, but these 2 stand out.

1> Throwing shit off the 4th floor sundeck. In the late KE fraternity (Epsilon Delta chaper) we used to toss random shit off our little patio where the fire escape met the roof. Of note were Mike Brown's filing cabinet, assorted couches and water balloons, both launched and thrown. For example. Launching balloons onto the sidewalk in front of the engineering building (aka Tech) while unsuspecting NU students were walking between classes.
Also throwing water balloons at football players, resulting in them throwing a football at the front of the house. Followed by future NFL draftee LB Billy Silva punching out a house window. All that remains is that I'm glad Silva and Kevin Bentley didn't kick my ass when I ran out to confront them. Stupid drunk.

2> Smashing cars aka Busting the hell out of a 1980 Honda with Alaska plates in Wisconsin. The car was clearly abandoned. The highlights were me kicking out the windshield (possibly my favorite thing I have ever done), and the Warden running inside to get a crowbar so he could properly smash out the headlights/windows. Cops are dumb.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Don't try this shit at home

Hands down, The Wire is the best show on TV. So many reasons to watch. Granted, I didn't get into it until this season(4) but it grabs you by the neck and don't let go.

Shit, Omar in jail alone will keep me watching every week, cause somebody's getting shanked with the glass knife. FO SHO.
Goes to show you though, a show can kill off one of its best characters(Stringer Bell) and move another into the background(McNulty), yet become arguably better for it.

Plus pretty much everyone on it is badass in their own way, with the possible exception of Namond Brice.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

stuck in the middle with you

Doesn't it make you feel better? The pigs have won the war.
I know I had it coming. I know I can't be free.
Pain is an illusion.

Saturday, October 07, 2006

Oh you crazy Germans, I can't stay mad at you

Beware the milky pirate? Sound advice, methinks.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

So bad its good: Deep Blue Sea

I was going to write So bad its good: Jet Li's The One, but I can't remember enough about it. There is not one universe, but a MULTIVERSE.

So Deep Blue Sea it is. Renny Harlin's crowning achievement. As I always say, "Its as good as a movie about super-intelligent sharks can possibly be." I mean just look at the poster.

That shark is totally sneaking up on her! Also, the lead actresses name is Saffron. Like the herb.

In case you haven't seen it, which is inexcusable, its about a team of researchers led by saffron, Stellan Skarsgaard and SLJ in nerd mode. They work at an underwater research facility, where they are testing alzheimers medicine on sharks? Maybe? All I know is "The sharks got smarter." Also, LL Cool J is a wise-ass cook.

Anyway, Tom Jane brings his crack team of shark afficianados(or whatever, Jane knows sharks, in the biblical sense) down to the undersea facility, when a storm/helicopter crash floods the facility, setting the sharks on the hunt. On the hunt for humans. (sorry)

Key scenes

LL Cool J escapes from shark by climbing into his own oven. After the shark ate his pet parrot. The shark turns on the oven, cause it wants a hot meal of course. So LL uses the hatchet he happens have on his person to hack through to the upper oven, at which point he dives over the shark, which is still attacking the lower oven. Stupid super-intelligent sharks, when will you learn? He then delivers the classic one liner "You ate ma' bird." and throws his lighter back into the oven/shark region causing an explosion. I guess they were gas ovens.

Saffron strips down (wooo woooo!) because she must use her wetsuit for its non-conductive properties when she totally electrocutes another shark. Pretty sure this wouldn't work. Got my fingers crossed that they'll test it on Mythbusters, otherwise we may never know.

LL Cool J escapes death by stabbing a shark in the eye with his cross necklace.

And of course, the immortal scene where SLJ delivers a totally cliched inspirational speech, followed instantly by a shark eating him. Unfortunately I couldn't find a clip, but this 10 second highlight reel is chock full o' shark-bitey goodness.

Friday, September 29, 2006

on a lighter note

Pat Burrell loves outfield assists in games that start a half hour before midnight.

dark days for democracy

America's long path toward fascism took a big step forward today. Despite rational arguments,the "terrorist" detainee bill passed the Senate without the proposed amendment to save habeas corpus. Well that was a good concept while it lasted. A good eight centuries or so. Magna Carta? Anyone? Bueller?

So, Sieg Heil, Bush!

Good old midterm elections, nothing like the threat of attack ads saying you are "soft on terror" to get some sketchy ass legislation passed right quick. And the wiretap shit passed the House today as well. Fear-mongering RULES!
So yeah, congrats everyone, you can tell your grandkids you were there to see the downfall of the greatest civilization in the history of mankind. That is if you're not up against the wall when the revolution comes dead.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

We have a Nook Logan sighting!

sitting here watching the Phils blow their season. lets try a little live blog--

Here we are in RFK via WC. Its bottom 10 Phils and Nats tied at 6. Announcers are Harry Kalas and Chris Wheeler.

10.47: Jimmy Rollins juggles, flips to a Chase Utley who is ducking out of the way. Terrible. I think the error is on J-Roll, but can they both get and error please? Awesome here is alfonso soriano!

10.48: Geoff Geary, K, ok he's not the worst member of the phillies pen.

10.50: Ok top 11, Rick White is getting up in the philly pen. Not good when his best contribution to the team is congratulating offensive players after homers via the bullpen phone.

10.52: Victorino fly out to center.

10.54: Here's Utley. I have no idea who is pitching for the Nats, but he has at least 15 letters in his last name.

10.55: Fly out to center

10.56: The big man is up, or as I like to call him RY-HO. Intentional walk

10.57: RyHo isn't being held on to the shock of Wheeler. This inning is over.

10.58: OK wow WB Mason has a new commercial. Somehow I find this more irritating than the old jingle that made me want to headbutt many a nearby object. Remember, anyone but WB Mason.

11:00: Zimmerman is now on first somehow. Stupid Ryan Zimmerman. Why are you so good?

11.02: Houston and Buccos(?) are in the top of 12, also 6-6

11.04: Someone named Mike Campbell(Gamble?) just flew out to center.

11.06: Christ, Wheeler, please get off your knees and stop blowing Victorino. His arm is like a LASER!

11.07: Zimmerman to second on sac bunt. Here comes Nook. Beware his fearsome array of bunts! I'm not going to lie, it seems the Nats love to bunt.

11.07: Logan grounds out to Nunez, aka the hispanic David Bell. Here comes 12!

11.10: Its Chris Coste time! Best 33-year-old rookie catcher ever. Old 15-letter still pitching for the Nats. Pretty sure Harry has no idea how to say his name. Harry=OLD.

11.11: Coste base hit.

11.12: Michael Bourne sac bunt

11.13: Wheeler says the Dodger game is 6-4 in the ninth. BUT WHO IS WINNING? Fuck it I'm opening gamecast.

11.14: Heres the hispanic David Bell, bounces out to second. Coste to third.

11.17: Ruiz pop out. That was awe inspiring.

11.20: Clay Condrey pitching now? Where's Wayne Gomes when you need him.

11.21: Rick White no runs one hit. Although Harry in the 12th is unreliable at best.

11.22: Grounder to 2nd. Utley successfully throws 45 feet! YES! Phils have a chance

11.23: Fly out left. Here comes Castro, Bernie Castro?

11.24: Ground out to Utley. 1-2-3 for the force that is Clay Condrey.

11.26: Top 13! Top of the order. This game started at 7:05. Thank god I only started blogging in the 10th.

11.27: Jroll ground out. Here's VICTORINO!

11.28: Flyin Hawaiian with a base hit up the middle.

11.29: Utley, 3-5 on the day. It sounds like the only people still in the stadium are phillies fans. Gotta love RFK.

11.31: Harry: The Vengabus is here at RFK. No response from Wheeler.

11.32: TOO HIGH! Chase pops out to second.

11.33: Intentional walk for RyHo. It will be up to Jeff Conine. I legitimately wish Burrell was up right now.

11.36: Conine strikes out. Damn you old man!

11.37: Wow they just showed a 10 second WB mason commercial. But now we got highlights. Dodgers win. Lame. But Padres lose to Cards. PUJOL POWER!

11.39: Condrey, Dealing. Strike out.

11.40: Soriano with the weak ass looper to Jroll in shallow left.

11.41: Zimmerman turns 22 in 20 minutes. Well thats fucking great. Phils have no one up in the pen. Fly out to center. 14th baby!

11.44: Coste up, no one better to lead off an inning. Oh wait, he's fucking mashing, stand up double to the alley in right center.

11.45: Michael Bourne! Bunt Single! Castro (covering first) showed off the 35 inch vertical to keep it in the infield.

11.47: Ground out to short. Bourne to second. Here comes Jose Hernandez to pinch hit for Condrey. Keeping it real.

11.48: For the love of god please just get a hit. also, astros just took a lead over pirates. Not sure why I care about that game.

11.49: Grounder, Coste thrown out at home. Going on contact. sigh.


11.51: Victorino tries to squeeze his way on, but is thrown out at first. Close play. Going to bottom 14, Phils up 8-6.

11.54: Here comes Fabio Castro to pitch for the Phils. Someone named Beltran Perez is on the on deck circle to pinch hit for, I guess, the nationals pitcher. Hooray Beer!

11.56: Robert Fick single off Conines glove in shallow left. Burrell would have made that play. Or not.

11.57: The aforementioned Beltran Perez, a pitcher, just got a base hit to right. This game will never end. Two men on with no out.

11.58: Castro bunts. Error, bases now drunk with nobody out. Good thing we got someone named Fabio on the mound.

11.59: My prediction is Ryan Church bases clearing double to end the game.

12.00: Fly out to center. run scores. Victorino's golden arm keeps runners on 1st and 2nd

12.01: DOUBLE PLAY BALL TO UTLEY! JROLL TURNS IT! ITS OVER! Phils 1 game back in the wild card with 4 to play. Fuck the Dodgers! And or Padres!

OK so that was kinda fun. Popped the old live-blogging cherry. I'm gonna go have a cig.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news

Recently it has entered the lexicon that the Iraq war not helping the "war on terror". This is a shame. It's like Vietnam times computers.

But anywho, I wonder what this all will do? With voter angst pushing the democrats toward control of congress, who is to say what will happen?

I have my money on democrats taking control and pulling US troops out of Iraq so quick that that the whole region descends into chaos. And then we can't get any of our precious oil.

Again, sorry.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Topics on which to not get me started

Do not bring up these subjects with me unless you want a crazy rant. Especially if I am shitfaced.

Insurance companies: So wrong in so many ways. Seriously, do not get me started.
Global Warming, or as it should be called, Climate Change.
SUVs: do you need an explanation?
Corporate culture: Mainly because I am being raped by it. Always remember, shit flows downhill.
Mike Mamula/Eagles drafts: I cheered when the drafted Donny Mac Nabb, and I think I was the only one.
The Legal/Justice/Prison system: don't work for the most part. Institutionalizes anyone involved, again, for the most part.
Electoral College/Voting: outdated bullshit to maintain the status quo.
War on anything as a part of the lexicon. ie "War on Drugs" or "War on Terror." How can you declare war on a method of warfare or something people put into their bodies? I declare war on drinking.

Ok I'm done, for now.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Sword Fight

I am of the opinion that Milwaukee is a hellhole.

This is the main reason.

During college, we took a road trip up to Marquette University, which, in case you didn't know, is in Milwaukee.

Night of belligerence involving box of wine, apartment parties and box of wine.

Eventually we make it back to the condo where we are staying. Mueller and I decide that its a good idea to go out on the 2nd floor balcony and heckle/talk shit to people walking by.

After some indiscriminate amount of time, some guy walks by wearing one glove, so I start yelling various Michael Jackson related insults. He responds by inviting me downstairs to settle our differences

I accept, mostly due to liquid courage. But since I am rolling out alone against Michael Jackson and his crew of 3-4 I decide to bring a weapon. Looking around the condo, theres a bag of golf clubs, a mini wooden bat and a broadsword.

I choose sword and run downstairs to the front stoop brandishing it like Inigo Montoya.

At this point its kind of a blur, but in essence Mr. Jackson was crazier than me that day.

He came straight at me. I promptly realized I had chosen wrong. What the hell could I do with the sword. I'm not going to run him through like some sort of pirate.
And while I hesitated he got me into a full nelson. But I am still brandishing the sword, effectively keeping his friends off me.

"Drop the sword!"
"Let me go, I'll drop the sword!"
Etc. A stalemate.

At this point some other dude probably named Karl(who apparently knows judo and likes to fight) rushed out the front door. He stands there for a second sizing up the situation, and one of Michael's friends runs up and punches him in the face. They start scuffling and general mayhem ensues. During which Mueller is throwing beer bottles that are shattering all over the front porch.

Eventually the guy who punched Karl starts screaming, "YOU BIT MY FUCKING FINGER OFF"

And in fact, Karl had done just that. I see the guy holding his hand with a flap of skin keeping his pinky still attached.
Apparently Old Nine Finger had given Karl a fishhook, so Karl had chomped down, clear through the bone.

That ended the fight, and I retired back to the condo, where I cleaned up my foot, due to a piece of broken glass had sliced my big toe clear to the bone. Thanks Mueller.

Saturday, September 16, 2006


Theres a thesaurus in the library. Yeah is under Y. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Instant classic. So many one liners I have to watch it again.
The pin's mom is a great touch.

I would say that its LA Confidential + Better Luck Tommorrow - Asian.

So, in summary, watch this movie.

Friday, September 15, 2006

why take diet pills when you can enjoy aids?

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

somethings gone wrong

Its fine...
you fell
its fine

Andy Warhol is a fucking genious

We all live in a yellow submarine

Good Day Sunshine

Thats all can stand right now, this post is melting.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Open letter to that bitch in the SUV

Yeah, you driving that white Ford Excursion (Expedition? Land monster.) with the fraternal order of police sticker on the back. Fuck you.

As you can probably tell from that outstanding diagram I made above, said whore (I don't know if she's actually a whore -- in the sex for money sense -- but she definitely sells herself in some unscrupulous way) tried to pull the old "zoom up the side then merge in at the last minute" move.

In some cases this is acceptable, or at least tolerable. For example on the highway, when the number of lanes decrease. Reasonable.

But no, this was in Main Street at Exton, a glorified strip mall that some wise ass engineer decided build with "a small town feel." He failed. But anyway, there was a clear line of cars waiting to make a right turn merge onto Route-a-hundred. You bravely decided that this line of about 7-10 cars was far too long and proceded to cut.

Imagine me being snapped out of my stoner rock reverie when you violently swerved toward my little blue Saturn. Not sure if you just didn't see me, or figured I could reverse real quick and smash the guy behind me. Actually you probably figured the magic bubble that surrounds your SUV would push my car safely out of your way.

Either way, I can surmise your surprise when I stuck up for my personal driving space by giving you a little beep. Don't worry about not flipping the bird at this egregious act, because your precious little mouthbreather named Sarin was in the backseat.

You got your point across after we got out onto route 100 by flooring past us poor small car driving plebes on your way to back your McMansion.

No worries there either, we all know how hubby would be disappointed if you don't make sure your army of Mexicans gets the laundry done/grass cut/dinner made before he gets home.

Also, how was Atlanta Bread Company?

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Those last 4 feet to the bowl are key

Good times. Sitting here cleaning up 20-hour-old puke. Stupid party ball, you have forsaken me once again.

Hasn't been a very good day, at least in my world of sports. Phillies lose in extras. Touchdown Jesus smites JoePa. And Northwestern lost to New fucking Hampshire. (Although I was informed by our assistant sports editor/sardonic bastard that UNH's QB and #1 WR are NFL prospects. And that the WR could break a bunch of Jerry Rice's 1AA records. So thats something.)

But there's good stuff too. Like Gary Smith on Pat Tillman. And photos of Prez G-Dub doing some sort of hang-ten style wave on the AP photo wire.

Hey, wait a second, that party ball isn't kicked yet.
*takes sip
mmmmm....plastic ball filled with beer. And not entirely skunky. We have ourselves a winner.

And of course theres always this.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

The NL Wild Card Race Via Dialogue

The Philadelphia Phillies and San Francisco Giants are standing together, talking.

PHI: So, yeah, how’d you do yesterday?

SFO. A’ight. We got Mike Stanton closing out games for us now. 1-2-3 in the ninth.

PHI: Um, okay. That might get worse before it gets better.

SFO: You guy’s win?

PHI: Not so much. J-Roll got thrown out at second in the ninth, killing our rally.

SFO: That J-Roll. When’s he gonna settle down and find a nice girl? I always see him out on the town with Pat Burrell. Those two can sure fill out a suit.

Uncomfortable silence.

SFO: So, what about the Padres? They win again?

PHI: Yeah. Another walk-off.

Yeah, They’re so hot right now. We play them tomorrow. That Mike Piazza. He’s classically handsome. I respect that.

Philadelphia coughs loudly.

PHI: Well I, ah, gotta go....Playing Florida tomorrow...

The Marlins?! I heard that they’re having a party tonight for their no-hitter. We should carpool.

PHI: Yeah, um, I’m on my bike.

SFO: Oh.

PHI: I guess we could...

SFO: No, no. That’s fine. Stretches and yawns. Gotta big game tomorrow. Gonna beat those Padres. Help us both out. Coughs awkwardly. No, have fun at your party. Tell those Marlins I hope they get moved to Oklahoma City and that their parents fucking die...just kidding. I love those kids.

PHI: Yeah, talk to you.

Philly leaves.

Looks at watch. Got a few hours to kill...

In walks the Cincinnati Reds.

Hey! I didn’t know you were still here. Wanna grab some chili?

Get away from me, you loser.

Bat Party

More drunken tales.

Bringing it to the East Coast.

I'll set the scene.
Bob's house. 2 Kegs. A douchebag in the now infamous pink shirt(from now on known as "Pinky"). drunken randoms everywhere. Jello shots.

Started off, classic beer bash. The 3 B's: Boozing, Beer Pong and Belligerence. May or may not have been fireworks.

But at some point a stray jello shot found its way onto said pink shirt. Pinky, gangsta that he is, did not take this lightly. Eventually his pink rage focused on Craigs cousin, for understandable reasons. He can be an asshole.
There was much shoving, grabbing of shirts and pointing, with the end result of Pinky and crew's ejection from the party.
Taken as a sign of disrespect, the pink shirt crew decided to arm themselves with 2 aluminum baseball bats and a golf club. They stormed the party, presumably to exact their revenge, but were disarmed fairly quickly. Bob standing in the doorway with an unloaded shotgun helped too.
Craziness ensued, with no serious injuries, except to Bob's deck furniture.

We ended up staying up til sun-up doing shots of Jager. And now I can't drink Jager. Oh well.

Note: The golf club did turn up in Bob's bushes a good 2 years later.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Cradle 2 the Grave is the best movie ever with a numeral in the title

The sound on this sucks, but the greatest moment in cinematic history happens at about 2:20.

Plus Jet Li totally uses a midget as some sort of crude weapon.

That can only be described with one word: Crumbalievable

Colbert, you've done it again. Interview with Gideon Yago was the best TV I've seen since watching Road House at 2:30 am a couple days ago.

I can only hope one day you host the Oscars in character.

Watch this if you haven't seen it, and you will know.
Theres another 14 minutes of this on Youtube.

Monday, September 04, 2006


This is an imaginary conversation I had with myself just now.

Me: I have bad news, the crocodile hunter is dead.

Them: What?

Me: Yeah, Steve Irwin is no longer with us.

Them:NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! How did he die?

Me: The old poisonous stingray barb to the heart.

Them: Well, I guess I should have seen that coming.

Me: True, all too true. That stingray must pay.

Also, I am going to go out and buy "Collision Course" and watch it all day, while weeping. Much like the Croc Hunter after the loss of this gator.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Top candidates for the Michael Irvin treatment

Back in the 90s, a memorable example of belligerent Philly fans was during a game against the hated triplet-era Cowboys. Michael Irvin suffered what looked to be a serious injury while being tackled to the notorious Veteran's stadium turf, by Tim Hauck of all people.
As Irvin lay motionless, the crowd cheered. Arguably the worst cheer ever. Needless to say, we Philly fans are big on schadenfreude. But remember, Irvin ended up being fine, going on to many more "Jacked Up!" segments and lines of coke.
Nevertheless, this is often pointed to as a classic example of how awful Philly fans are, really, the lowest of the low. After all, we booed freaking Santa Claus. The symbol of Christmas!

Anyway, to mark the upcoming start of the NFL: here some athletes that could potentially receive the Michael Irvin treatment.

Terrell Owens: You were expecting Sal Fasano? Seriously, if you need to know why TO is hated in Philly, turn on ESPN for 5 minutes.

Barry Bonds: Not sure how this kind of terrible injury could happen in baseball -- maybe he gets clocked in the face with a pitch. I don't think Philly fans would cheer if that happened to Bonds, especially not the baseball crowd. But if he were to suddenly suffer a horrible leg injury while jogging from second to third, thats a different story.

JD Drew: If he were to take a Brett Myers heater to the eye, the cheering would be loud and long. And yes, I really want to see the Phils play the Dodgers in the playoffs this year.

Tie Domi
: Flyers fans are almost as angry as Eagles fans at this point, inexplicably, I think, because hockey blows. But from what I know of my hockey-fan friends, Tie Domi is someone who would get no sympathy.

Scott Stevens
: If he's still around. See above.

Eric Lindros: I think the fans would be more likely to cheer a car accident involving his Dad, Carl. Even though he was a concussion-prone oaf, and he was acquired in the hockey version of the Herschel Walker trade, he doesn't inspire that particular kind of ire amid Flyers faithful.

Eli Manning
: The whole "annointed in New York as savior" thing wears thin pretty quick here in the city of brotherly love. Although I think an Eli injury would result less in cheers and more in laughter. At least from me.

Thats all I can think of right now. If there are more candidates, hit up the comments.

Monday, August 28, 2006

Drunken Tales

In order to try to make regular posts, I plan on telling some interesting (to me) tales of belligerence from my past. And what better way to get it started than the infamous 'Iowa shitter' incident.

So back in college, every year we would have a rush trip to an away NU football game. Basically it was an excuse to get wasted somewhere else, and on a bus.

In the fall of 2000, said road trip was to Iowa for the NU-Iowa football game. That year, the football team enjoyed an unprecedented number of ridiculous victorys in games the team had no business winning. So we headed to Iowa with nothing less than a Rose Bowl bid on the line.

Of course NU lost, relegating them to a horrific beat down by Nebraska in the Alamo Bowl. We responded to Iowa chants of "overrated" with chants of our own like "Cut the Mullet" and "You still live here." Keeping it classy as always.

But the true tale comes when myself and Anjelk made our way to the stadium bathroom, likely due to the numerous games of cups we had played prior to entering the stadium.

Its important to note that the stalls in the bathroom had no doors, so those brave enough to drop the cosby kids off at the pool would have to do so in front of dozens of fat midwesterners.

As we entered the pisser, I noticed a man sitting on the floor, with a bunch of sheets of newpaper under his ass. He had a wheelchair nearby, and was not squatting, but sitting cheeks to floor, shitting on the newspaper. No one else in the restroom was phased by this at all. You might think that a Good Samaritan might come to this obviously handicapped man's aid, and help him shit in the bowl like a normal person. But i guess in Iowa, a fat retarded man shitting on the floor during a college football game is par for the course.

So anyway, I turned to Anjelk as we exited the bathroom and said, "Thats not something you see everyday."

At least the trip wasn't a total waste.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

blatant Phillies love

Man up you fucking bitches. Rowand leads the fucking way and now he's out, again.

But seriously, win the god-forsaken NL wild card, just look at the other the other contenders.

Reds? Please. Aaron Harang/Bronson Arroyo is their #1 starter.

Diamondbacks? garbage.

Padres? Better pitching staff, but seriously. Josh Barfield? Trevor Hoffman cannot be trusted.

Giants? Bonds=done. Moist Ass's urine will not save you now.

My case: Phils got top 5 NL offense, plus a pitching staff that keeps them in games. Witness. Lieber is throwing strikes. Brett Myers beats down hitters like they're his wife. Hamels is 'hollywood'. Wolf has been rebuilt, better than he was before. And Mathieson, well, he kinda reminds me of Danny Jackson.

You heard it here first: If the fightins make the playoffs, they are your NL World Series team.


Sunday, August 20, 2006

Don Vito Arrested

So I was diligently putting together the old People in the News/Weather page on the copy desk where I work. Nothing too special, Boy George sweeping for community service, etc. Then someone in sports is like-- 'did you see the Margera thing on the the entertainment wire?'
So, apparently Don Vito is being held in Colorado on some sort of sexual assualt charges involving, undoubtedly, 'a nice girl.'
I was just pissed because it bumped the story I had headlined:
"Kinky, Willie could team up in Texas" about Kinky Friedman's gubernatorial bid. Kinky has tabbed Willie Nelson to be some sort of advisor/consultant. Probably of gardening or something, I forget.

But anyway here's some classic Vito Gibberish to mark the occasion:

Saturday, August 19, 2006

SLJ on Daily Show


motherfucking Snakes in the motherfucking Plane!

Wow, so I saw that today, and it was so full of motherfucking ass-kickerery that I don't know where to start.
I gotta preface with the fact this is one of my favorite kinds of films, meaning tongue-in-cheek and totally ridiculous. For example, I have long-enjoyed both Starship Troopers and Deep Blue Sea.

As a movie, I'm not sure it is as good as the above mentioned 'masterworks' but as a phenomenon it definitely kicks the shit out of their motherfucking ass. When a mere sentence uttered by Samuel L. Jackson is enough to bring claps from everyone in the sparsely-populated theater, you know you are witnessing something special.

Witness. "Enough is ENOUGH! I've had it with these MOTHERFUCKING snakes on this MOTHERFUCKING plane" Delivered with straight-up "Ezekiel 25:17" inflection as patented by SLJ. It will go down as one of the most memorable lines in the history of cinema. At least the best use of motherfucker. Yippee-Ky-Yay, motherfucker? You are one ugly motherfucker? I don't know.

But I did think Kenan Thompson killed it as the video game aficionado/pilot. At least compared to him as Fat Albert. But then again, the bar was pretty low.

Every scene was totally gratuituous. Surfing? Motocross? Sex in airplane bathroom? Snakes biting the shit out of people?
In fact, I'm pretty sure that every single part of the human anatomy was bitten at some point.
"Fucking snake get off my dick!" Yes--someone actually says that.

Also, I may have to deconstruct Snakes on a Plane vs. Deep Blue Sea. As I always say, If not me, who? If not later, when?

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Shove it up your tailpipe

I realized the other day that if there is a God, he is using a very unusual method to try and get through to heathens such as myself.
Bumper Stickers. Really? the infant newborn baby jesus* wants you tell me that the Lord is watching by putting a shiny sticker on the back of your car? That is idiotic. Do you really think that putting a message on the back of your car saying jesus saves, or abortion kills, or repent: the end is nigh, is going to convert anyone? Or guarantee you a spot in heaven? You cause global warming.
Always enjoyable though are the people who have so many stickers that they overflow onto the trunk/rear-windshield. But don't get me wrong, commie that I may be, my bumper sticker hate is not limited to the religious right.
Also bad are the Gore/Lieberman or Kerry/Edwards stickers that still adorn the backs of soccer-mom SUVs and Subaru Foresters -- A mere 6 and 2 years, respectively, after the failed campaigns ended. They fucking lost, you stupid bastards. Obviously your support was not enough at the time. And its certainly not going to make any difference SEVERAL YEARS LATER! All it does is make you look like pretentious, out-of-the-loop assholes.
And don't get me started on the whole 'two letters that stand for some vacation destination,' that is just dumb. You go on vacation, congratulations.
In all fairness though, I guess I'm a hypocrite, because I once had a bumper sticker on my vehicle. It said 'Eat it Raw' and adorned my Ford Taurus back in high school. It can be excused, I think, because a) I was a dumb teenager b)I also had cheap plastic ninja star-themed rims and c) pizza hut flags attached to the windows.
All that said, nothing will ever compare to the bumper stickers I saw on a pick-up in Montana in summer 2003. Among others there were two that stood out: 'Sniper: Death from afar' and 'Cats, the other white meat'
If only that guy wasn't batshit crazy, I would like to meet him.

*Ricky Bobby

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Goats>Monkeys...for now

Some call them 'Tennessee Meat Goats.' Fantastic.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

What are we talkin bout? Practice!?!

He says the word practice exactly 24.5 times.

Monday, August 14, 2006

So, that was weird...

The other day I saw some guy riding a motorcycle while wearing a suit. A little odd perhaps, but not too out of the ordinary.
A couple weeks ago Shibby and I saw a midget bicycling with the whole Lance Armstrong style get-up on. I wondered if she was riding a kids bike or something custom-made. Nevertheless, that was definitely out there. Not 'Guy shitting on the floor at an NU-Iowa football game' strange, but not something you see every day either.
But then last Friday a dry-fit clad TD and I were walking in Center City Philly, when some girl, who was sitting with her friend enjoying some 3pm martinis, asks us to sniff her armpit and tell her if she has BO. Sober as I was, I say "Maybe he will" pointing at TD. He looks at her mortified friend and says, "I will -- but only if the red-head watches."

Final note: Apparently as we were walking by the girl was sniffing her own armpit, which TD saw. They had a moment of recognition, at which point the encounter could have gone in any number of ways. In retrospect, I respect her decision. Well-played armpit girl. Well-played.