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.