Curt Schilling Still Does Good Even If His Employer Hates Him

While most players seem to steal the limelight with their poor decisions and philandering ways, there are many athletes who strive to do better. One such guy is Curt Schilling.

I remember (rather vividly) watching Curt pitch in 1993 when he was part of the Phillies World Series team. He was really young then (but I was younger, so who really is more impressive?) but his grit was clear.

Curt has a son who has been diagnosed with ALS, and seventeen years ago he started a charity Curts Pitch 4 ALS. Every now and then Real Sports or some local news affiliate will do a fluff piece on the program, but Curt pushes through even when the cameras aren't on him. Like now.

This season he has been embroiled in a fight with the Red Sox over whether or not he should have surgery, and has been forced to opt out of doing so. All the press has circled around those circumstances.

Yet, he continues to travel with his team, and while in Japan this week has already met with a local ALS fund raiser. He's also adjusted his giving premise (previously he gave $1,000 for every one of his strikeouts) because he wouldn't be playing. He instead selected a local pitcher (that's a lot of pressure) and has also decided to give the same amount to the Japanese ALS society for every strike out Dice-K has.

I can't imagine the strain that is put on a family when you find out one of your children has such a debilitating disease, but the Schillings have handled it with grace, and deserve a ton of respect for the great work they've done.

From 38 Pitches

Ghosts In The Dallas Area, Stay Away From Fruit

Yesterday I was ecstatic (I know, you can't see me getting all giddy and soft, like a teenage girl who just met that Hannah Bute Montana chick, but it happens... everyday... when you're not around) to learn that 'dem Boys might be looking to sign Pacman Jones.

I've always loved Pacman (yea, I'm gonna link to my old articles... leave me alone... why must you judge me? I'm no longer ecstatic,) not because he's been personally responsible for crippling another human being (cause that is really messed up) but because his status as a walking punchline has twisted his story straight out of reality.

He's been suspended from the NFL for the last year, but as far as I can see he has never been convicted of the major crimes of which he's been accused.

Imagine, if you will (cause you will, and you will like it) that someone shoves you in a bar, and then sues you for assault after you shatter your beer mug over his head in self defense (I mean the first one was self defense. When you went to the glass blower to have the mug rebuilt, then found him at another bar, well that was just revenge for when that dude stole your girl and gave you herpes.) Then, even though you haven't gone to trial, your employer (if you're reading this blog it's either Bear Sterns or McDonald's...) fires you.

Now, obviously that Pacman ain't a genius. He continues to go to strip clubs, even though he always gets in some sort of incident whenever he enters. (I also think this is blown out of proportion. Jones is from a culture that celebrates strip clubs, just like Pedro Martinez and cock fighting, Mike Vick and dog fighting and white people and St. Patrick's Day fighting.)

But, if our country is supposed to have some quirky Innocent Before Proven Guilty rule, (which by the way if that isn't seven movie titles I'd be disappointed (according to IMDB there was one TV show, and another that was inverted...witty writers)) shouldn't our constitution also be applied to jobs?

Well until it does I'm going on strike... from visiting outdoor urinals... NO MORE. (especially ones with video cameras.)

Whatchyou Sued Over Oprah?

So life continues to be hectic, with random job interviews coming in, but I'm still holding out for that "full service" hotdog cart vendor opportunity. Anyway...

I saw Oprah was being sued by a show attendee who felt she was treated a little roughly during a Dec. 5, 2006 filming. (I hear she was asking for it... She just had one of the faces.)

She is being sued for $50,000.

Ironically that is the exact amount of money you would have to pay me to get me to go see Oprah's show being filmed.

I really just wanted an excuse to publish a picture of Oprah... cause the big O = ratings.... oh you mean a different kind of O... what else starts with O? (Ostracized? Ostriches?)

Got it.

Now give me my money.

Via Drudge.

Slacking Off

So I've had a lot going on the past few days, but tomorrow I should have an actual written piece. I also finally got to watch some of last weeks SNL. Check this out, but stick with it, cause it does get really funny. Focus on Kristin Wiig, she is brilliant.

A Special Day To Head Down To The Old Pub Instead

St. Patrick's Day is a very special one to me, since I hate all people named Patrick. Instead of explaining why it's relevant to sports or any such jibberish, I just wanted to watch muppets. (via Boing Boing)



I was going to throw in some Stephen Lynch, but his St. Patrick's song always makes me feel a little queezy. Just like that time I walked in on OFLJ in the shower. That led to a very awkward moment (that was easier to put into video form.



Happy St. Pahty's day! And seriously OFLJ, I'm not into that.

A Birdman By Any Other Name

As some of you know I am fascinated by The Birdman, as I believe everyone should be. He was a mediocre player, always on mediocre teams, who garnered a lot of attention and a nickname far superior to his talent.

Today, tragically, I have learned he no longer considers himself, the Birdman.

He realized he couldn't carry the name after he hit rock bottom:

""I always had control over [drinking]. It was just when everything hit me all at once it was just like, 'What do I do? I'll find the answer at the bottom of a bottle,' " Andersen said. " 'That one didn't have the answer. Maybe I'll go to the next one. That wasn't there, try cans.' There wasn't no answers at the bottom of no cans.""

My only question is, who actually says "I'll find the answer at the bottom of this bottle," about themselves. Isn't that a cliche? Don't you literally try to numb your pain, not solve it.

I also like that he was crazy enough to have an actual conversation with himself. "Hey, Chris, how are you doing today?" "Fantastic, Chris! Let's go make a mockery out of the NBA." "Sounds fantastic, Chris... But first lets search for thing in bottles." "That'd be swell Chris! I am a racist." "That's a lie, Chris, and I hate you." (end scene)

I hope what he meant was he was searching for answers under the lids of bottles. Or in fortune cookies.

Here's hoping he takes my suggestion for his new name, The 3.5 Million Dollar Bench-Warmer (T3MDBW). It's not original, but it's way more accurate than his previous one.

Important Questions

Every now and then I'll take too much time putting together a question for you to ponder. So ponder.

If The X Games Were Filmed Like This I Would Watch

I love seeing a video of a "newscaster" doing something I probably would have done because I don't think things out enough.




"Hey guys, lets film these guys sledding, but I'm gonna start outside their path, and then walk between while they come down the hill. This can't fail! Emmy here we come!"

From Deadspin

Headlines Is Dumb

Usually when I come across a bad headline I let it go, because I've made my share of mistakes, but this one made me recoil in horror.

Flyers' Downie Gets Shot After Being Benched.

If that doesn't make you want to read more I don't know what will.

Maybe "Flyers' Downie Mauled By A Metaphorical Bear."

I'm guessing Jason Blake finally got his revenge.

The Haitian Sensation and Other Thoughts That Don't Make Sense

I remember back when the 76ers drafted Samuel Dalembert and I labeled him the Haitian Sensation (I wish I was that witty... I'm sure someone else did it first but it doesn't make the name any less great... jerks.)

The day he was drafted I remember Dick Jerardi of the Daily News saying it maybe the worst draft pick ever, and I laughed… “Oh, you” I said…

Since then he’s missed almost two complete seasons, and continues to struggle with the idea that while blocks come easy if you fly recklessly out of control… so do very easy shots for the other teams on the 9 out of 10 times you miss. Oh and offense... don't get crazy.

The point being, Sami has not always been my favorite player. Now he has come out and said the game isn’t fun, which is apparently because he isn’t playing enough. (Even though he's averaging 33 minutes a game, which is a career high.)

What is most pitiful here is that this is the first time is Sami's storied career that the Sixers are actually winning, other than his first year, when he didn't play (which made the team better.)

They might even make the playoffs and this fool isn't having a good time? They've gone 12-3
in their last 15 (that would be sixteen if A were counting) and that's not enough to get him excited about getting up in the morning.

So how can we help him? Here are some ideas.

1. Have a hockey demonstration at half time.

Sam loves hockey... especially when he can watch the little ball, man.


2. Encourage players to drape themselves in the flag while sitting on the bench.


This is the happiest I've ever seen Sami, other than the video above, and I think it's because the flag is his natural clothing. Once he leaves it's comfortable confines he is like a baby kangaroo lost in the wilderness.

3. Play one game in Haiti.


Sure, they're constantly at war and haven't had a stable government since... well, since Christopher Columbus started messing things up in 1492, but I'm sure with the NBA's new global outreach programs there's an opportunity to sell a pair of shoes or a jersey or something to the entire country. That's money in the pocket.

4. Have a fake afro give-a-way during the next game.



Did Sami ever look better?

So, I hope all of that can help, or maybe what Sami really needs is what will eventually happen. When the Sixers sneak into the playoffs and get stomped by the Celtics or the Pistons he won't have to worry about losing that losing feeling anymore. He clears buys into the idea that with success bring misery, and hopefully this will one day bring him, to another team.

You Have Chosen.... Poorly

Found this via Boing Boing and it brought me back to a simpler time. I actually just enjoyed the chapter titles, like eaten by cat and maid dies while trapped by cat. I think someone should actually write this book. FREE GHOSTS!

Getting Out Of The Funk(master Flex)

I want to apologize for the somewhat pessimistic nature of the majority of the recent posts. I know most people judge their entire mood by what’s in the blog here, and I feel awful for putting them in a funk. So I’ve found two different ways to brighten your mood.

First Demetri Martin.

Yea, I've never listened to Travis, but I'm a big fan of all one named musicians. (OK just Pink.) Also, if you're feeling down, I have found a great book to inspire dudes (sorry ladies, you'll have to go back to the old faithful.)

It's titled Things I've Learned From Women Who've Dumped Me, featuring some big name comedians like Stephen Colbert, Will Forte, Patton Oswalt, Bob Odenkirk and Andy Richter. It was compiled by a former Daily Show producer Ben Karlin.

While each story isn't great most of them succeeded in at least making me smile, some making me laugh out loud. Chapters include Oswalt's "Dating A Stripper Is a Recipe for Perspective" and Richter's "Girls Don't Make Passes at Boys with Fat Asses."

I didn't identify with every story necessarily, but the ones that did were absolutely incredible. I also want to make sure it's clear that this is not some inspirational wallowing in the past collection. Instead it's just a goofy set of stories that give some perspective to life.

So go to the bookstore, and just check out the first passage, written by Karlin's mother entitled "I Think My Son Is a Catch." If it doesn't make you laugh... well I actually can't judge you for that... it just worked for me.

He's tall, but not too. He runs marathons and scales mountains. And of course he has those gorgeous blue eyes. And on top of it all, he's funny. Of course I didn't think everything he did was so funny when he was a kid. I used to tell him "that's not so funny" all over the house. Back then I called him a smart aleck but now I call him "creative." If you make money from being a smart aleck, you're creative. If you don't make money you're a putz.

If You Can't Cheat, Steal: The AJ Price Story

Today I happened across an article (I had really hoped it would be a charticle... a las) featuring AJ Price’s comments after losing to Providence last night. He was apparently upset at the way the fans and players carried themselves after upsetting his UConn team for the second time this season.

“Real disrespectful," Price said of the Friars without a hint of sarcasm or hesitation. "They don't know how to win, and it showed. They were laughing, mocking. I usually have a lot of respect for other teams, but they showed a lack of respect last game. They beat up on us and made a mockery of it."...

"We'll be ready to go. ... We want to blow them out. That's what we're going there to play for."

Personally, I’m amazed at Price’s audacity. Let me bring you back in time to a story that seems to have been completely ignored this year.

When AJ Price started at UConn he had a brain aneurism during practice. I can imagine that’s a rocky (road) way to start your freshman year, and he was forced to sit out the remainder of the season. That’s sad, I agree, but what’s not sad is the following season when he sat out for stealing laptops with his buddy Marcus Williams (Williams was only suspended for the equivalent of 8 games, while Price had to sit out the rest of the year.)

I’ll still never understand why Williams and Price received different punishments (oh yeah… Williams was much better and Jim Calhoun is shady) but I also don’t get how guys who go through what Price did can come out being this cocky and arrogant.

If fans want to celebrate that’s their prerogative, and if you’re feeling were hurt, it’s time to grow up. You lost, and they celebrated by laughing? Is that really the worst possible thing they could have done? I mean at least they didn’t make you go through this.

I Didn't Expect To Wake Up Today And Deal With This

Such a quote is usually attributed when someone dies... or leaves the Green Bay Packers.




Am I the only person a little freaked out by that video? I mean, Sean Taylor didn't get that kind of love, and he actually passed away. Brett Favre was a great player, but these people act like he came into their homes every week and massaged their cats.

I can't think of anyone else who could retire and get this kind of love. The only thing that came close was the series finale of According to Jim, and that was only because people were sad at losing one of the easiest shows to mock since Tracy Morgan's show was canceled for not making sense.

A Dream Is A Sandwish Your Heart Makes

More Coming Soon...

The Birdman Flies In Any Weather... Unless He Gets Tested Beforehand

A day off can do magical things for a person… it can lead to many thoughts.

Please don’t recommend something by telling me I’m going to love it. That is way to much pressure. Now if I don’t love it I feel like I’m disappointing you, and that sucks. Also please don’t pee on my bed and tell me it’s raining. My bed is indoors and you are a liar.

Today is a one of the most important days in my natural life (in the sense that every current day is the most important because it means you’re still alive.) Today is the day that Chris Andersen officially returns to the NBA.

Why is that important, you ask (snarky jerk). Well mainly because Andersen is home to one of the NBA’s greatest nicknames, The Birdman. (What happened to that boy? (that’s a rapping joke… wrong crowd… that would have killed in Harlem.... of course I might have been killed... so looks like I can't win on this one.))

I believe that there has never been a less deserving player of such a great nickname. Think of all the skill and grace that it implies, and the fact that it’s stuck on this chucklehead who can’t even finish a dunk during a dunk contest.

Current guys like Tim Duncan (The Big Fundamental) and Dwayne Wade (Flash) have pretty mediocre name. Kobe and Lebron don’t even have them, but I guess that’s what happens why you can go by one name. Shaq changes his every week (Diesel, the Big Aristotle, the Small Extra Cheese Little Caesar.)

The great names seem to be all but gone and instead we’ve taken to given the names to people that should never get off the bench (mine used to be MF which actually stood for Midget Forward, but a referee once completely misunderstood that one and almost threw my buddy KJ out of a game for calling me it.)

Andersen has been sitting out for two years because he failed a mystery drug test (no one will say what he was one but we can be sure of a few things. It certainly wasn’t performance enhancing, so it was probably Airborne) and ESPN still insists on calling him Chris “Birdman” Andersen in every article. For a guy who averaged 4 field goal attempts in his career, that’s impressive.

Sadly, all the smart nickname people have gone to NASCAR. When Smoke faces Herman the German yet they both lose out the The Candyman and Cousin Earl, you know you’ve seen something good. (Those are real nicknames, along with Sliced Bread.)

I don’t know what’s happened to major sports, but it seems like we’ve been relegated to using initials like LT or AI or just picking a random animal/superhero? What happened to the days of Prime Time and Crime Dog?

I wish I had an answer, but until I do I’m just gonna go try to pick a fight with Sliced Bread… I hear he likes his toast butter side up… and we all know that’s f@#ked up.

Explaining The Eagles Off-Season Using iChat

So lately I've been putting a lot of thought into what the Eagles off-season has meant to me. My finally summary can only be described using pictures taken while having a video chat with A last night. See if you can keep up.... cause I'm sure this will make no sense whatsoever.

Honestly, since the NFL season ended a month ago, the Eagles have taken me on a roller coaster ride.Now I know a lot of people are excited about the acquisition of Asante Samuel, and I guess I get that, but I've always felt he was very overrated player. Samuel has made a career out of jumping routes and catching over thrown balls. I know, it seems impossible, but I'd say one out of every 6 interceptions he has made in his career has actually been impressive. I also spent a while wishing he slept with the fishes when he was torching the Eagles.

The main reason I'm apprehensive, though, is because I know why this signing took place. Whenever teams see a player play well against them, and then that player becomes available, they immediately try to scoop him up. You see it happen time and time again. My favorite was when the Igs played a preseason game against the Pats during which Deitrich Jells lit up the score board with something like four catches for a billion yards (I can't find any actual statistics from that game, but I know it happened.) Immediately afterwards the Eagles cut him and the Patriots picked him up. He didn't make it to the regular season.

No, he didn't die, he was just cut. What kind of sick world do you think this is?

Apparently a very sick world. So, back to the real point, Samuel is not a shut down corner, he's a flashy guy who's going to get burned A LOT. The only reason he performed so well against the Eagles is Donovan seems to be terrible at sight adjustments, and if the corner is going to cover tight and you still throw a WR screen, you will always ALWAYS get burned.

We also signed some guy named Chris Clemons, which means absolutely nothing and will mean absolutely nothing. I know this not because I've done a lot of research, because I haven't, but the Eagles never EVER steal someone in free agency. They never find a guy who developed into something they didnt' expect. They either pay a lot for big names, or give out garbage to garbage guys. Mediocre people remain mediocre in Philadelphia (I think that's the city's motto.)

Finally, the only thing that got me marginally excited was the faint prospect that Randy Moss could sign with the birds. Sadly, entertaining this prospect is like making out with yourself. It just doesn't have a point.

The Eagles aren't going to do it, even if they have the money and it would seem to be a perfect opportunity to bring back some of the spark we saw when TO first signed with the birds. But it ain't going to happen. Why? Because the birds have decided that their offense works. Which is weird because it seems the only thing it works at doing is hurting B West, and creating a lot of great opportunities for the other team. Why would you want someone to catch touchdowns that isn't Greg Lewis (I will always despise Greg Lewis the player. I'm sure he's a nice guy... actually I'm not... but the player Greg Lewis is a punk... He makes me want to scream at the TV.

)

So in the end I hope I've helped you understand the first three days of free-agency a little better, and if not... wipe that smug look off your face.

A Picture Is Worth Even More Sandwishes Than Ever Previously Thought

I found this sign about a block away from the original sandwish location... I've come to just believe that the sandwish is the sandwich of hope... If Martin Luther King Jr. was still alive he would definitely eat sandwishes.

It is also a possibility that all the stores are making a reference to the great blues song Rubber Biscuit. I'm really not sure.

"Have you ever heard of a wish sandwich? A wish sandwich is the kind of a sandwich where you have two slices of bread and you wish you had some meat..."



If it's the latter I'm really impressed. Any Blues Brothers references are OK by me.

Esquire Magazine Thinks Men Are Dumb... And Like to Clean Their Guns on Dates

So tonight at work (cough.. I mean not at work?) I happened across the article "Things a Man Should Never Do in the Company of a Woman" from Esquire magazine. (I don't know if this is for chicks or dudes, but it sounds classy.)

Because I obviously know everything, I thought I would provide a little reality to their list. (Their stuff is in italics, mine will be next to it... if you can't figure this out you should probably get back on your medications... seriously Todd, we're all worried about you.)

Reveal how much your car cost. - Well that won't be a problem because ladies never ask after they see my ride can fly... if I flap my arms really quickly.

Clean your gun. - Well apparently this guide was written for either Charlton Heston or Stephen Jackson.

Polish high school trophies (which you still have displayed). - First I thought that said Polish, as in from Poland... that would have been way cooler. I happen to agree with this premise though, because girls never seem that impressed by my second place ribbon from my one meet on the swim team.

Refer to your mother as your best friend. - But I said she's just a friend (say Oedipal complex... I dare you.)

Rap. - This is ridiculous. Sometimes I walk past the brownstones busting my Wil Ming Ton flow and ladies be jumping out of windows just to talk to me. Either that or she fell. I hope she's ok.

Check out our assistant/roommate/the baby-sitter. - Check her out of where? What if I work at a hotel? Should I not let her leave? I think that's a crime. There's nothing worse than kidnapping someone that looks that good in those pants.

Question our footwear. - See this sounds better than saying the truth. You have hideous feet.

Blow-dry your hair. - Would you prefer I be bald (Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.)

Tip less than 20 percent. - Oh just 20 percent? Why don't I tip 100%? Why don't I just give the guy cash and leave before placing my order? (Actually this one is probably reasonable... I'm just po'.)

Celebrity impressions. - Yea you say that now but wait till I bust out my Gilbert Godfried impersonation.

Impressions of us. - This sounds like gold to me. Isn't impersonation the greatest form of flattery? I don't know why in my version you have a french accent and a noticeable limp. (The limps probably because of your hideous feet.)

Forget to carry cash. - That's ok cause I just plan on knocking over a bank on the way to the bar.

Flip it, flop it, swing it around, tug on it, adjust it, scratch it, or do anything that will remind us that it's just a goofy appendage and not a mystical source of pleasure and satisfaction. - How do you flop it?

Wii. - Clearly you've never played Big Brain Academy... Jerk.

Boot and rally. - Sounds like a classy date to me. I do know a guy who thinks if you puke in front of a girl and she doesn't run she's a keeper. In my opinion if she kisses you afterwards she probably has short term memory loss.

Scream—at the dog, at the guy who just stole your parking spot, at Bill Belichick. Because, no matter how much Belichick deserves it (cheater!), when we hear you raise your voice, we have an idea of what we're in for. - But I hate that dog! It has shifty eyes. And seriously, who sees Bill Belichick while on a date other than his wife and his girlfriend... HEY OH!

Talk about former exploits. Ever. - Exploits? Who talks like that? So you're saying I shouldn't talk about that time that my best friends Brad Pitt, George Clooney and I went out on the town and then spent the night at a soup kitchen feeding the homeless. (Oh no name dropping either... I hate you.) I think Brad might have poisoned some of them, so in retrospect you guys might be right.

Use the words bitch, slut, tramp, or whore, unless referring to another man. - Well there goes my entire vocabulary... Honestly though, if you want to date a guy who refers to a man as a tramp or a whore, he's probably hanging out with these guys.



Tell us you're going to kiss us. (Just get on with it!) -It's better than saying I'm going to punch you in the face. And what if we're telling you as a warning... not as a romantic gesture? Most guys want to give you the opportunity to back out, unless of course you're Sko. Then you should probably be in prison.

Find the article here.

Who You Gonna Call?

I don't want to spend much time writing or thinking about politics (cause me head hurt) but I saw this commercial on the New York Times website today and I started laughing.



I mean come on... if you're going to steal a premise for a commercial, should you really be stealing from the Ghostbusters?

If there's something strange, and it don't look good, I sure am not gonna call Hillary Clinton... Maybe John McCain cause he's got one foot in the grave as it is and might be able to reason with the ghouls.

Either that or impersonate Popeye and sneak away... not sure about that one.

Smoke Your Hat and Other Thoughts on Fake Days

I’m gonna cut right to the quick today (Yea… that’s right… the Quick…) and get down to business.

Today is a very special day for many reasons, mainly because it is not a real day. Here’s how I know.

Because if I got married today, we wouldn’t have another anniversary for four years (yes fellas that’s right. Get hitched today, because then she can’t yell at you for forgetting your anniversary… I do have a feeling though that she will expect one awesome present when the big day finally rolls around again… maybe get her an island?)

If I shot somebody today, I could never be prosecuted. (What?) (Exactly.)

Last night I had a long conversation with OFLJ about this concept and here is what I decided… last night. Since three years out of four today doesn’t exist, it is clearly the one day in the year when our parallel universe meshes with our own. So, any crime committed while in this parallel universe is not prosecutable in ours. (I really hope this is true or else this post is going to look really dumb… too late.)

“But Chip,” you say, “if I killed someone today, they would still be dead tomorrow.”

“False, young Pedro,” I say to you, “basically when someone dies on Feb. 29 they just have to sit out the rest of the day. It’s a lot like Groundhog day, except Bill Murray is a lot dumber (seriously I don’t care how many times I watched the same Jeopardy episode, I don’t think I could memorize the answer to every question to the point where I could answer before the question is asked. Shenanigans I say.)”

Why also is today important, other than it not being real and being the way to a perfect marriage? It was the birthday of my old fifth grade math teacher. (Lame, Chip… don’t reference people we don’t care about.) (Quiet you.) -> (That’s an Office reference (Returning in April)) (Thanks NBC for the cash… you better pay me unlike those fools over at Applebees.) (Go to Chili’s… better food… more Mexican…ish)

This guy was kind of strange, and would later coach me in Varsity basketball (that’s actually not a joke… I was on the varsity basketball team… in the same way that Puerto Rico is part of the United States. I was there but I wasn’t invited to participate… ever.)

He would sit me during practice (not a joke either) and once was responsible for my favorite quote of all time. The conversation we actually had follows.

Poor Innocent Chip- Coach, I was wondering if there’s any chance I could play on the JV instead of sitting on the Varsity?


Nobody Beats The Wiz- You know, I hadn’t thought of that.



PIC- I just want to play, Coach, and live, and dream... (whistful music plays)



NBTW- Well let me put that in my hat and smoke it.



Assistant Coach Present at this Meeting- Don’t you mean pipe?



NBTW- Don’t question me, I know what I meant.


So there ya go. If ever you think today is real, shave your head (ladies.) Then see if your hair is not back tomorrow. (This is a good idea.)

If you want to know what the meeting looked like:



Enjoy your fake day, I know I will... just don't kill anybody... cause that's really not a good idea

The views Chip has expressed in this blog are not real, and should not be taken as real... Other than the fact that when he was a child he lived in an orphanage where all they served was gruel and people sang constantly. That's why he ended up the way he is today. Imagine how messed up Annie probably is these days... You didn't think Amy Winehouse was her real name did you?

Deepest Thoughts

You know how every now and then you feel like things aren’t going your way? (You don’t???? Well they will… that’s not nice… I’m sorry I didn’t mean it…)

Well, yesterday in the New Yorker (I think I need to explain why I read the New Yorker. For my entire life the New Yorker has always seemed like an elite magazine. Something that smart people read so they could talk about smart things. Then as I got older and more cynical I believed the New Yorker was a pompous magazine that people carried around and read so they seemed smart. Now I’m just confused so I buy it for the cartoons and let it sit around the apartment so visiting dignitaries think I'm way smarter than I actually am.) there was a piece that put my entire life in perspective.

Here is a slightly dramatic excerpt about how things even out:

“Probably the perfect example of things evening out happened to me just last month. I was walking to the post office to mail a death threat. It was a beautiful day. I was happily singing away in my super-loud singing voice. I didn’t step on any chewing gum, like I usually do, and when I threw my gum down it didn’t stick to my fingertips. As I rounded the corner, there was a bum begging for change. I was feeling pretty good, so I gave him a five-dollar bill. At first I tried to make him do a little dance for the five dollars, but he wouldn’t do it, so I gave him the five dollars anyway.

Not long after that, I was reading the paper, and there was a picture of the bum. He had won the Nobel Prize in Chemistry! He had a little bigger nose and straighter teeth, but I’m pretty sure it was him. So, my five dollars had made him change his ways and become a chemistry guy.

A few days later, I was walking by the corner again, and there was the bum, back begging. So, things had evened out. He had gotten the Nobel Prize, but now he was a bum again. I asked him for the five dollars back, but he started saying weird stuff that I guess was chemistry formulas or something.

I told my friend Don the story, but he said it wasn’t an example of things evening out so much as just a stupid story. That’s interesting, Don, because you saying that evens out what I said to your mother that time.”

The piece was written by Jack Handey who I always believed was a fictional character on SNL. I’ve since learned he is actually a 60 year-old man from El Paso, Texas who worked for a variety of comedic ventures. I was going to post a clip from SNL but I can’t find one that works but instead I found this crazy box that you can post…. But I have no idea what it’s going to say so I don’t take any responsibility for anything that may offend (or I take all the responsibility and you can fight OFLJ about it… he will handle all blog related violence… I call him my little Moe Greene. (I gave you the link cause most people never know what I'm talking about.)

DeepThoughtsByJackHandey.com

Read the whole New Yorker piece here

A Picture Is Worth A Hundred Sandwishes

Signs around Brooklyn sometimes catch my eye... like the weird bar one that has things that were "overheard" last night. This one was a true mystery though.

My questions include, in a very particular order (that's an example of trying to be funny but instead being stupid... sorry.)

How did they spell delicious right?

What is that picture of in the top right? A sun?

Why are you saying hello to me? I don't like you... seriously leave me alone... I hate you.

What is that picture in the bottom left? I mean I know it's supposed to be a warm sandwish... but we all know what it really looks like.

How do you make a chicken? Gross. I have a feeling the health inspector is not going to like their whole chicken birthing process going on in the back.

Tune in tomorrow when I go in and order the sandwish.

Number One... Meet Number 2

I don’t know what it takes to get fired as a baseball manager, but I know some things that apparently won’t quite do it.

Coming into the National League and not understanding the double switch. (For those of you who read and don’t know baseball, basically the idea is you bring in a new pitcher and another player in the field. Then those two positions are switched in the batting order so that the new pitcher will bat later.)

Speaking country bumpkin gibberish that no one can understand.



Moving one of your top pitchers from the rotation to the bullpen back to the rotation, into a small condo in Center City, to Oklahoma, back to the rotation… all which is pretty much ignored because he smacked his wife and no one cares. (This is one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen. It seems that Philly fans have just decided to ignore Brett Myers because that eases the guilt about not being upset he smacked his wife. If we pretend he doesn’t exist it cleans the conscience. I’m not sure if that’s how it’s supposed to work.)

Taking way too much time planning a prank that may have wrecked the mental toughness of one of your youngest stars.



And most interestingly, taking your All-Star pitcher (Cole Hamels), who is only in his third year in the league, and choose not to make him your opening day starter, instead going with the guy who hit his wife.

Now I’m not a genius, but how dumb can that possibly be? Pitchers are notorious for being shaky people, who tweek out whenever things aren’t absolutely perfect, and now you’re going to mess with your top gun slingers psyche just to try to encourage Ike Turner's illegitimate brother?

I can’t think for a second how this could be a bad idea… not for a second.

Phillies new slogan -> First to Worst… Can You Feel It?

Would Being Strangled By Someone Who Used Kiehls Feel Better? and Other Stories About Muggsy Bogues

Muggsy Bogues is brilliant. In case you didn't know (which you shouldn't unless you work for a certain non terrestrial radio provider) is the color commentator for the Memphis Grizzlies.

Muggsy is famous for being very short (when do I get my cred yo?) and for starring in such hit features as Eddie and Space Jam (I'm not mocking Space Jam... everyone knows it's the greatest alien/basketball animated film, but not the greatest animated film, for we all know that is Rock-A-Doodle or All Dogs Go to Heaven... CHAHHHHHHLLLLIIIIIIEEEE). (What just happened?)

The point is, color commentators are usually former players who were always placed in that "he is well spoken" category, which everyone knows is just a way for sports casters to say they're shocked a (black) athlete can talk in coherent sentences.

Muggsy though, is not only a grammatical genius (tonight he actually said "that be what they need.) he has a high pitched voice as you would stereotype a short guy to have. In fact, I have Muggsy pegged in for my Joe Pesci replacement for my athlete driven Goodfellas remake vehicle. (Probably gonna make Philip Rivers Spider... Stop taunting fans you jackass.)

I've loved Muggsy for a long time (and not in that creepy Full Metal Jacket way... pervert) I just don't necesarily think he's qualified to be on the radio... then again that's probably why he's on in Memphis... doing basketball... for a team that's not the Memphis Tigers (I'm also uncomfortable around John Calipari... I guess it has to do with the two different times I met John Chaney. (Once at NikeTown which seems normal... and once at Neiman Marcus in the Kiehls section... I understand John... your secret is safe with me.) I'm guessing when he tried to strangle Calipari, Chaney's hands were silky smooth... They always say death comes with relief.)

What's the point?

At what point do we stop with this garbage about players being good at this commentary stuff just because they played the sport? There are only a handful who seem to do any research, and most just compare current players to people they played against because their lazy and it's easy. (Bill Walton I swear I never know who the hell you're talking about... even when you're talking about current players... THROW IT DOWN BIG FELLA.)

Until the day this change is made, I think we need to replace all the masters of elocution with the worst communicators in sport. Replace Troy Aikman with Fridge Perry (I EAT YOU JOE BUCK) replace anyone with Mark Spitz (dhf;djkag;dfasjka- actual quote). Not only would people tune in, but it's great to watch any play-by-play guy struggle with an illiterate cohost ("No Mark, that says Touchdowns, not cheesecake. Are you on crack?)

Program directors take note: Cris Collingsworth = boring... Cris Collingsworth trying to talk with his mouth guard in = RATINGS GOLD... or maybe stuff his mouth with Cheez Doodles... just like Stephen A.

Be Kind and Give It A Chance

It’s almost three days later, and I didn’t take notes… so it must be movie review time.

You know that feeling when you read a book, poem, Sanskrit, etc. and think it’s stupid, until someone later tells you, “The trees represented death,” and then it suddenly hits you that the movie really wasn’t that bad, you just didn’t get it. (What? Usually you still think it was dumb? Yea, I feel ya. Usually I would feel the exact same way.)

Well for me Be Kind Rewind was exactly that kind of movie. Sitting with Timtim and Sko as the only thing that stopped them from booing was the extra effort that they weren’t willing to commit, I actually enjoyed the film. (You are both dead to me.)

First, there were many priceless pieces, including Jack Black careening into a metal fence (Timtim was asleep at this point, thus losing all ability to judge the film), or several parts in the “sweded” movies Mos Def and Jack Black create. (Sweding basically means they make cheap 20 minute knock offs of major films including Ghostbusters and Rush Hour 2.)

Second, the film had a great heart. I’m a sucker for a feel good situation, it’s part of me being a cynical optimistic (I guess that’s better when I once filled out an application explaining why I was a introverted extrovert.) You liked the characters in the movie, you felt for them. As they blundered through every day life you wanted them to win, unless you were Sko. I think he wanted them to die.

Third, Be Kind had a point that didn’t try to change the world. It wasn’t Blood Diamond making me feel guilty, or Crash which required me to rethink every relationship I’ve ever had with someone of a different race. (Sko you need to apologize to Ping Ping. You know what you did.)

The point was that movies don’t matter in the long run. Whether a film had great acting or a great script was irrelevant. All that mattered was what you took away from it. If you watched Scarface and decided to dedicate your life to stopping cocaine imports it probably means something different to you than it does to every single rapper and tough guy college frat member. (Scarface sucked... I mean I guess cause he had a lot of money and shouted out catch phrases people were duped, but there is more than that to life. Just ask the Dell Dude. He knows.)

A films place in your memory is exactly where it should be, and that memory is all that matters. (I liked Pick of Destiny… seriously.)

What was most tragic about Be Kind Rewind was that no one told me what it meant till I read about it later at home. And for that reason it was dumb. But go see it.



This is the director's "sweded" trailer.

What Happened to Compassion?

This post is sadly not exactly a funny one, so if you’re looking for me screwing around, you might want to skip on to a different one.

Glad you be safe. everything is an event with you – Text from OFLJ

I know my diligent fan base has been upset because I haven’t had anything up in the last few days, and don’t worry stalker, it’s going to be ok. (Seriously, I keep getting calls from some 302 number that likes to hang up whenever I pick up, or leave me messages of my own voicemail recording. Now I know how Conan O’Brien felt when he had a stalker. Honored.)

This weekend I decided to go home because I’m slowly drifting towards madness, and I had the weekend off due to previous plans falling through. (By drifting I mean I’m already there, you guys all knew that though didn’t you.)

Thursday morning I wake up, with a halo hanging on my four post bed (Damn you Sugar Ray. I think that means something dirty, but I never knew, and now I’m too old to ask and I’m just forced to sing along with confidence, pretending like I know what is going on. Story of my life) and I decided to pick a random train home.

Right as Amtrak got me to Philadelphia, about twenty minutes from my final destination of Wilmington (home of the hit rapper Wil Ming Ton (that’s me)) I hear something odd and the train labors to a halt.

To me it sounded like we had hit a tree, as the reverberations reminded me of when a branch gets stuck under your tire, and keeps banging against the wheel well till you slow down and it emerges free, while just a teensy bit smaller.

As you can probably guess, it wasn’t a tree. According to the Daily News the next day, my train had been part of an apparent suicide, as an unknown person had apparently jumped in front of the lead car.

Now, death has always kind of shaken me. I remember coming back from the beach with Pops one time and watching a car get broadsided as it attempted to cross the road just a little too late right next to the Delaware Memorial Bridge. I watched, paralyzed, as Pops jumped out of the car and spent what seemed like 40 hours trying to resuscitate the driver as he hung out the window, to eventually be declared DOA after a trip to the hospital.

Now obviously a suicide is different than a vehicular death, especially in the mind of onlookers, as I learned while riding train 171. I was appalled to listen to people on the train, saying things like “If it had been me I would have been more thoughtful and just shot myself,” especially when we had no idea how the person our train had hit had ended up there.

During the one and a half hours we were stuck on a train in Northeast Philly I heard some of the most caustic and selfish comments I’ve ever been privy to. I’m not saying I’m always politically correct, because I know that’s not true, I was just shocked at the lack of respect for someone who had just died, whether or not that person did it by his or her own hands.

I’m sorry for being uber serious today, but this really pissed me off. Sure, people are weird around suicide, and I understand that, but I couldn’t believe we were watching crime scene photographers come and a body bag being taken away, while hateful people spewed about how this would inconvenience them making happy hour later.

I wish I had the poetic ability to sum this up in a way that makes it whimsical or deep, I just can’t. All I know is life is about perspective, and I was thankful for the moment I was gang planked across to the next train coming, and the women I sat next to, who had been waiting for 45 minutes said “It’s so sad, that was somebody’s child.”

Mystery Solved

Ever wonder what would happen if OFLJ decided to rap about his hidden love of the Detroit Lions? NO LONGER!



I'm just excited that today's number one rap song is by a guy named Flo Rida. How come it took the rap community thirty years to realize that Florida would make a kick ass rap name?

From now on my official rap name will be Wil Ming Ton. That sounds intriguingly Asian. Cause I get low low low low low low low. (Seriously, you have no idea... when I lay on the ground I'm crazy low... I wonder if that song is popular on submarines (really lame jokes today, sorry everyone.))

via Awful Announcing

Former Athletes Take Heed

So I would never stoop so low as to reuse a column I wrote in college on the blog.... Until I happened across this video. (and by video I mean radio commercial lamely tagged with pictures so it will apply to the YouTube generation.))



That brought me back to my intra-mural all-star days (insert whatever sound you associate with time travel here... just not Wayne's World's one... that's overused... be more creative... how about that old Timewarp Song? Yes... that will do.)

Intramural All-Star

It’s election night and excitement has reached a fever pitch, and not because Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore were going to make a sequel.

The excitement bred from a field just south of Biddle, where dew lavished the turf with a layer just thin enough to glisten off of the bold lights shining from above, while the mist hovered around the heads of each player, luminescent like a halo over each of the 14 heads about to do battle.

Shades of Howard Cosell.

Taking to the quasi-frozen tundra on this glorious night was team Click Clack against the Skulls.

Taking part in this game of intramural greatness I realized the different kinds of intramural players, and thought it was about time to write about them.

The Jackass- Most teams have at least one. These are the guys who maybe make one catch, but every time there is a penalty or a close call start acting like John McEnroe against Bjorn Borg. These guys feel that a referee being paid $10 an hour, should be held accountable for every minute of the game and that any disagreement is a sign of ineptitude.

The Pacifist- This guys pulls in a couple catches, but stays quiet and low to the ground. Sometimes he’ll make a big play, but for the most part his job is to not make mistakes. In my mind this guy is the 2006 Gary Payton of the flag football world. Except less old, and he never had those “great moments” that the Glove brought to the game in the mid-nineties.

The Talker- This guy believes he’s the leader of the team because he’s such a tremendous athlete, but the whole time runs around like an idiot, yelling and occasionally agreeing with the Jackass. This guy reminds me of every single stereotypical public high school gym teacher, which is ironic, because that’s probably where he’ll end up.

The Rage-a-holic- Some of you might remember the classic flip-out from Joe Miklulik this summer, the minor league head coach who went on a 20-minute tirade that will go down as one of the all-time greatest YouTube moments of all time. Anyway, the Rager puts this to shame. Every time he gets the ball he becomes a battering ram of despair, decimating all of those in his path like he’s one of those tree cutters in every single forest-based animated movie. Sadly this bull of a guy doesn’t realize that there are rules to this brilliant game, and his ’roid enhanced abolishment of the opposition will draw a flag pending on whether or not the ref is text messaging during the play.

The Speedster- This guy played some sport recently, and has better wheels than that handicapped kid from the Burger King commercials. Just give him the ball and watch him go. It’s tough to make a professional equivalent to this guy, but Allen Iverson comes to mind. Without the ’tats and the “we talking ’bout practice” attitude.

The Degenerate- This guy lives for flag football. On nights before games he follows a strict regiment of salad, pasta and The Virgin Suicides just so he hates men, and thus can’t like the guys on the other team. Then he turns on a tape he has of an old Discovery Channel film of pigs going at it, trying to force himself to be attracted to their skin, believing that this attraction will bring the pigskin to him on game night. This guy reminds me of Tony Stewart. Sure, you’re excited, and it’s fun, but it’s NASCAR. Let’s be serious…is it really worth killing a guy just because he passed you? The Degenerate says yes. Not only pass the guy, but rip off his genitalia so he can’t create more bastard children that might one day come back for revenge.

The Coach- No one invited this kid to play on the team, so he hooked up as the coach. He stands on the sidelines, yelling at the opponent, preaching to the refs and offering plays up for his players, who casually ignore him with a classic “we know we’re friends, but let’s be serious” look. Larry Brown coaching last years Knicks team has the closest affinity to The Coach. He knows what it’s like to feel uninvited, and then later be overruled by other people in the group. So that’s my list, but before you head off to that dodgeball game, where you plan on calling the ladies on the other side every four letter word that your mom suggested “you might not want to say honey,” think for a second. Which guy am I? I know, personally, I’ve got a little bit of every one of these, and that’s what makes intramurals the greatest rush you can possibly have. Enjoy the game, play your heart out, but shake hands at the end. Unless the guy was a Jackass. Then follow the Degenerate and grab the sheers. It’s cutting time.

Here are a few extras that did not fit in the original running of the article:

The No Show: This guy signs up for every single team he can, and then, as is implied, refuses to come to a single game. Citing too much homework or perhaps just too busy in general, this guy overcommits and then never comes through. In my mind he is the Larry Brown of intra-mural guys. Sure, you have big expectations, and maybe he won once, but that's just because he was there at the right time (cough Pistons), not necesarily because he did anything of any value.

The Chump: This guy does nothing all game, completely blanketed on offense, and then barely gets one step with his man defensively, but makes one play late in the game and reacts like he's Christian Laettner on the '92 Blue Devils. The good news is that this guy will flounder away the rest of his life in relatively obscurity, just like Laettner.

The original article is posted here.

There's A Right Way To Do Everything...

If you are ever invited to be on a talk show, especially one you know nothing about, this is how you should handle it. I've got my fingers crossed I get to give it a shot on Tyra Banks one day...

Third Eye Blind Hated This Movie

4. Features a highly paid actor (Diane Lane) to appear in about 12 seconds of the movie.

So, as you probably guessed, Jumper did all those things, but sadly the only emotion that it pulled from me was when my contacts dried and I forced myself to cry (yes I can do that, be jealous) just to rewet them. Then the stranger sitting next to me saw me crying and thought it was because of Rachel Bilson’s powerful acting and then he started crying, and sooner than later everyone else was balling their eyes out. (that didn’t happen, this is a terrible review.)

That being said there are reasons to check this thing out. People like The Fast and the Furious because we as a society like speed (not the drug Pete Rose, watch it with the jokes.) This movie had crazy speed (and might have been better on drugs) which should bring in a solid box office number.

Also Rachel Bilson is obviously an attractive young lady, but I’m starting to question the characters she picks in movies. I’ve only seen her in two, but in The Last Kiss she’s tries to break up Zach Braff and his preggers gf by having sex with him (classy stuff,) and in this one she sleeps with someone that is clearly a felon and that she thought was dead for 10 years because her bf at the time killed him just because he was back, stared at her while she worked for 45 minutes and took her to Rome, without asking any questions. Girl has no standards.

My suggestions, instead of going to see Jumper, you should literally jump into traffic, then jump out. Then back in, and then back out.

Then give me the money you would have spent and we’ll call it even.

Happy Birthday, Why Don't You Go to the Mall for Me

If you want to see OFLJ in action, check this out. You're welcome again ladies.

Slazenger Promotes Sushi Steak

This morning I turned on Sportscenter and found myself craving animal carcass. Not just any animal carcass, RAW animal carcass. Why you ask? Commercials.

A decent looking girl behind a counter at a golf course snack stand that looks like a butcher shop serves up blended raw meat in a :30 segment brought to you by Slazenger.

At some point a puma walks in the background and the ball bleeds, but I didn’t have a problem with any of that. In fact that's a normal day out on the 18 for me. Except they forgot the decapitated gopher, but that's a story for another day.

If you’re going to promote that a ball has “raw distance” I’m never going to impressed if some jacked guy can hit said ball far. I hope he can, he looks like he could bench press a Buick. (The version below is an older commercial for Raw, but it still has the same stupid premise, strong guys hit the ball far.)



I would have set the commercial up with some dweebish looking guy, maybe Richard from Beauty and the Geek? Then have him use the weakest swing imaginable, propelling the ball 350 yards. Tell me you wouldn’t buy that ball?


No seriously tell me, and I’ll come over there and …. Well you don’t want to know.

Oh you do want to know... damn you caught me... I'm all talk. Leave me alone.

Dave Matthews Said He Did It... Ask Him

Because I'm bored I decided to live blog the Clemens hearing. The following makes no sense, but are the general thoughts I had about the hearing... and I got bored a lot so my mind might have wandered... Here it goes.

Clemens is lying.

A moment of silence for Roger Clemens career at the beginning.

I’m enjoying the computer noises coming from the ESPN feed. It sounds like someone is playing solitaire… I hope they win.

Tom Davis’ assistant has shifty eyes. I think he might have taken HGH… ASK HIM.

Everyone is leaving for votes while this thing goes on…. I think everyone’s leaving so the public can remember what baseball attendance used to look like before drugs got involved.

Roger Clemens gives a moment for the passing of Sen. Lantos… Suck up.

Note: When saying “I’m a positive person,” don’t scream it in anger.

“I’ve tried to help anyone who crossed my path…” Weird thing to say. I’ve tried to kill anyone who crosses my path… paths shouldn’t be crossed.

Roger Clemens has realized the truth… he’s guilty.

He’s been blessed with a heart… lucky guy. I didn’t get one of those.

Steroids are not good for helping someone’s performance? Really? Huh… didn’t see that coming.

How do you prove a negative? This is deep testimony… Roger Clemens brought to you by Emerson.

Brian Girahd McNamee is shady looking dude. Smug emanates from his tie.

43 minutes in, and I’m not completely bored yet.

“I’m not proud for what I’ve done.” LAME. BE PROUD. Embrace the jackass you are.

His dad was a cop, and instilled in him that people make mistakes. Was his dad Mark Fuhrman?

GET YOUR FINGER OFF THE LENSE… GET YOUR FINGER OFF THE LENSE… PHEW. That was a close one.

Andy Petite is honest and decent. Thanks Brian, I’ll go to you from now on whenever I question someone’s character. How do you feel about Jesus. Please get back to me later. Thanks.

“… tell the truth to the best of my ability.” That is deep too. Does this mean that it might be beyond his ability to tell the truth? He is a chronic liar, he just admitted it.

His years as a NYC police officer taught him not to trust Roger Clemens. That’s a weird thing to take away from a job. My time in the NYPD taught me not to trust gerbils. Don’t ask... ok ask but I won’t tell.

“I lied to protect my friends, ballplayers… and myself, with whom I worked.”

McNamee is doing this for the kids… it’s for the kids.

Go Cummings Go Cummings Go.

Elijah also says this is for the kids… all the kids who are watching a hearing at 10:50 on a school day.

Cummings is not messing around. Grilling Roger.. THROW A BAT AT HIM ROCKET.

This hearing reminds me of Grand Central Station. People need to stop moving around.

I think Elijah should have started by asking for permission to treat Clemens like a hostile witness. I think detainees at Guantanamo are treated better then this (that is a lie.)

I don’t think Andy Petite said y’all as much as Cummings is quoting as having said. I think he’s making this whole thing up.

How great would it be if Clemens just broke down and said he did it after being grilled. He stood up pitching in the World Series, but he can’t handle questions.

“Andy and I’s friendship,” the American school system has failed you, Roger.

Add misremembers to the new awesome dictionary. Thanks Rog!

Hydroxycut=HGH according to Roger Clemens. But the commercials make it look so innocent.

Great camera work is now showing us a close up on the computer screen. I think the director of the Blair Witch Project is bringing us this shot.

Clemens is going to cry on TV… Who would watch a soap opera right now?

“I never worked out with Jason Grimsley.” How do you never work out with another pitcher on your team? Is that possible? Does everyone have their own gym in the locker-room?

Hearsay does not exist at baseball hearings. I want to know what Andy Petite’s wife’s dog remembers. Give us the TRUTH!

This is the strangest thing. Clemens refuses to insult Andy Petite and call him a liar, but he also doesn’t want Petite to be telling the truth. So he misremembers. GET A NEW WORD…. Enlighten us with your vocabumalary.

Rusty Hardin is going to cry now sitting behind Clemens. Sources say the Rocket passed gas… this story developing on the bottom line.

I don’t think anyone watching this can really believe Clemens. The guy is stuttering and stammering like he just got caught with his hand in the needle jar… and we all know that hurts.

OHHHH now the cameraman has moved so we can see Clemens and his wife in the same shot… artsy.

Mr. Cummings is done. ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR HIS BRUTAL ATTACK ON ROGER DOGER! You can collect your dignity at the door.

Tom Davis… you’re up!

His shady assistant now looks extremely confused… Where am I? Man this is some good acid.

Haha, while McNamee is talking the buzzer for a vote is going off and his lawyers are looking around like we’re under attack... “Why is no one running for the doors… if Osama comes in that door I’m outta here that’s all I’m gonna say.”

The wallpaper behind Davis looks like Zach Braff’s shirt in Garden State. I wish Tom Davis was wearing that shirt right now and all I could see was his head.

McNamee, “If you know my jargon, I did say that.” Brian has his own language? Kudos my friend. You should give your whole testimony in this fake language.

Clemens bled through his designer pants? I’m questioning that Roger Clemens wears designer pants.

“Congressman, when I’m on the mound I want an edge (Davis chuckles.)” Isn’t that admitting guilt? WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING HE JUST SAID HE DID IT?!?!¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿??

I think this whole time “Can I Get A Witness" should be playing on a loop in the background.

This Jose Canseco Party must have been one heck of a shindig… can’t believe I didn’t get the invite.

Ohhhhh apparently it was a barbeque… I’m hungry for ribs. I like my steroids to come straight from the cow into which they were injected.

Uh oh, nobody but McNamee remembers Clemens being at the BBQ… Stupid Brian… is this really necessary? If you lied about this and Clemens gets away with this because you lied about this you’re an idiot.

I like that Roger Clemens was playing golf instead of going to party with his team. Classy guy that Clemens.

Someone needs to look up the transcript for McNamee’s description of the party. A woman in a pink bikini with board shorts chasing a child? This guy is either completely full of it, or has a vivid memory.

He pitched 7 innings the night before and then played a round of golf at 8 in the morning. Yea, a human’s body can stand that kind of strain…. HE IS THE TERMINATOR????

“I take vitamins every other day.” Does that seem weird to anyone else? Can Clemens not afford daily doses?

Alright, it’s 11:30 and I’m bored now… if anything else happens… well it won’t….

Why I Love The Drudge Report

Some people enjoy his breaking news, or his right wing positions. Me... Well I'm in it for the pictures.


For the full story

Great Premise... Not So Much On Execution

I like to imagine sitting in a writer's meeting, when someone pitches a great premise, and then everyone starts squealing like fifth grade girls who happened to be eating at Nobu (seriously give me my money Applebees or I'll promote every other restaurant in this fair land) the same day as Brangelinafordtomcatsteviewonder (that's a lot of people.) Sadly no one figures out how exactly to execute this premise, and comedy gold becomes really awkward... Exhibit A.



Go to Sizzler.

Let's Get Ready To Peck Each Other To Death... Lame

A lot has been made about Pedro Martinez being present at a cock fight in his home country, the Dominican Republic. Apparently, this is a problem because Americans don’t like seeing chickens killing other chickens violently. If Americans kill chickens violently it’s ok, but seeing other chickens do it just really freaks us out.

Personally, I’m not a huge fan of chicken fights, but there are other animals I do enjoy watching attack each other with an unnatural hatred. Like…


Porcupines.

Sure, they look all furry and cuddly, but when these beasts from the east get angry you know you’re gonna see a flurry of deadly needles hurdling your way. It’s just science. (Porcupines can fire they quills upwards of 400 miles per hour. (Prove me wrong.))


Seals

This is just hilarious. Seal fighting is basically a slap fight, which reminds most people of a cat fight, and guys seem to go bonkers for cat fights. I hate cat fights because cats are strange animals that are all to willing to turn on their owners. One second you think Priscilla II is gonna take Garfield to task and all of the sudden that two bit feline is clawing your eyes out while Garfield gets away with my lasagna. Don’t need em, don’t trust em.

Lobsters

Have you ever seen a lobster fight another lobster? Ever wonder why kids are so mesmerized by those tanks at that chain restaurant with lobster in the name (I can’t mention the exact name because of my affiliation with Applebee’s. Have you tried one of their delicious burgers today? WHAT? ARE YOU A HEATHEN?)

Anyways, when lobsters are caged for too long they begin to turn on each other, and then it’s on. Of course they move insanely slow and their claws are rubber banded together so the fight resembles geriatrics going at it after they’ve had their fill of a good old fashioned Salisbury steak smoothie…. Mmmmmmm.

Gophers

Do gophers do anything that isn’t amazing? They sing, they dance and they dig holes, my three favorite pastimes. Imagine a scenario where you’re a gopher, digging a hole and suddenly some jackass rams right into you, underground, digging his own hole. I imagine this is similar to a human being cut off on the BQE, and gopher has got to step up. Get in his grill. Give him the paw (this is very offensive to gophers.)

On a more serious note, gopher on gopher violence is the number one killer of gophers that involves other gophers. The number one killer of gophers is actually rogue lawnmowers, but we are far from solving that epidemic. If you know a gopher on the edge, please stop him or her before things get out of hand. We don’t want to lose another Jon Peters character if at all possible. I’m Harold Ramis and I approve this message.