Monday, January 31, 2005


Gosh, I think I've put up more links per capita today than any other blog this side of the Mississip.

I know many people complained about Napolean Dynamite not being funny, and I believe you all to be so very wrong. So, for the fans, here are two awesome soundboards to play with:

Soundboard #1

Soundboard #2

And lastly, for the few fans of both Napo and the Pheesh, I give you Trey Dynamite...

Snoop-a-loop, Rape-a-lape

In a bit of breaking news, Hillary Clinton just passed out before delivering a speech on Social Security.

But I'm betting even money that Clinton's fall wasn't the result of a drug-tampered glass of champagne, seeing as how Snoop Dogg and his associates were nowhere to be found. I wonder if the guy in the green hat got his turn...


I have no idea why I'm posting this, but I think the falls of our heroes are newsworthy (hence the popular success of shows like Behind the Music). I'm not saying that David Duval is my personal hero or anything, but a few short years ago this guy was considered the second greatest golfer in the world behind that weird black-lookin' dude with big teeth and the Chinaman mother.

And now, well, not so much. Here are some of the more staggering numbers from Duval's week, via ESPN's "Weekly 18":

--His four-round total of 318 was 20 strokes worse than any other competitor. The second-highest score belonged to Lanny Wadkins, a 55-year-old TV announcer who hasn't even won on the Champions Tour in five years.

--His opening-round 82 was disappointing in itself, but shocking when you consider that it took place on PGA West, the very same course on which he shot 59 six years earlier.

--His third-round 85 included a back-nine 49 at tame Tamarisk CC. Duval made four triple-bogeys from holes 10 through 16.

--He averaged 28.5 putts per round and made only 48.6 greens in regulation, but the most startling statistic was his driving accuracy: He drove the ball into the fairway a mere 34.5 percent of the time.

Early Monday Links

Here are a few early linky links from the Red Cowboy that will allow you to procrastinate a bit before getting back into the work mode:

1. No idea what the hell this is, but it'll sure as shit make you laugh. Play with sound, and definitely watch it all the way through.

2. Lost in the Johnny Carson's-a-God shuffle are some clips from the '70s in which Johnny shows his true colors on race...I still think this is high comedy, but there's no way you could get away with this on today's television. Also, play with sound.

Now, get to work. We'll be right back with some breakdancing.

Everyone have a good weekend?

Friday, January 28, 2005

I Weep For The Amish

"Now that the state Revenue Department will require businesses to file their monthly and quarterly sales tax electronically, some Amish merchants are left wondering how they'll comply with the new rules and stay true to their way of life.

Starting in February, businesses must pay the taxes online, by telephone or by using third-party software. The old-fashioned coupon books are being discontinued." [More...]

You have to feel for the Amish here...while this law will probably make for a more efficient system of tax collection, it would seem logical that the Amish should be granted an exemption. Otherwise, isn't the Pennsylvania government trampling on their way of life by changing the current system? What's next, indirectly forcing the sect's women to shave their sideburns and the men to stop sexually abusing their family members and sleeping with family members? Have a heart, Pennsylvania state legislators. C'mon, yer be'er than that.

I obviously have nothing to write today...drawing a total blank. I'd prefer it if I were in bed right now with the covers pulled up, watching old Jazzercise videos and listening to '80s new wave tunes like "Rock Lobster."

Payola and Kennedy

Well, there's no Kennedy, but one out of two ain't bad...

Third Columnist Implicated with Payola Charges
Michael McManus, whose syndicated column, "Ethics & Religion," appears in 50 newspapers, was hired as a subcontractor by the Department of Health and Human Services to promote an administration marriage initiative, according to an article posted yesterday by, the online magazine.

Senior writer Eric Boehlert wrote that Salon had confirmed that McManus “championed the plan in his columns without disclosing to readers he was being paid to help it succeed.” This report emerged one day after President Bush ordered his Cabinet secretaries to stop hiring commentators to help promote administration initiatives, after revelations surrounding commentators Armstrong Williams and Maggie Gallagher. [More...]

Instead of re-hashing my comments from earlier this week, I'll just include the link to what I said, and what others responded with, and leave it at that. Now please, can we crucify some people over this? I say death by stoning.

Moan Tones

How did everyone miss this story? This will sweep the nation by the spring.

And here's one of the greatest eBay auctions I've ever seen.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Shock Full of Nuts

Is anyone else constantly full of static electricity? Every time I go to shake someone's hand I inevitably give them a little shock upon the touching of our hands. Now, this is fine in most cases, because it's usually friends and friends of friends and sometimes enemies that feel my wrath of electrostatic discharges.

But I just had a face-to-face interview with the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company (not bragging or anything, just tellin' a story here), and I shocked the hell out of him. He didn't say anything, but I could feel him judging me. Dick. I'll shock whoever the fuck I want, millionaire or not. Maybe I need to dry clean my winter jacket for the first time in three years.

To learn more about static shocks and how to avoid them, click here.

Wave That Flag

Over the last few days, The Grateful Dead Movie has been playing in select theatres across the last night I journeyed to the 42nd Street Loews to see a sold out(!) showing of this awesome concert/documentary from a string of 1974 shows at the Winterland in San Fran. The place was packed, the energy was high, the crowd was pumped -- it didn't quite feel like going to a show, but it was a great experience hangin' out with old Deadheads and guys like me who wish they'd gotten to see them just once, even on their worst day.

If you've never seen this movie, I couldn't recommend it more. You know that old, fat and gray Jerry that most of us remember? Well this is young, skinny and lively Jerry, just about 31 years old, lookin' like a million bucks, sounding like a billion. It's beautiful to see him like this, a man on the rise, just ten years into his career as the greatest nine-fingered guitarist in the history of mankind. This movie suspends time and space, it takes you back in the Delorean and wakes you up in 1974. Oh, to see a band as they're hitting their prime, there really is nothing like it. And it's all up close and personal...Marky Mark would love this film, because you can actually see sweat comin' out they pores.

The highlight of the movie though is Phil Lesh, the group's legendary bassist. To steal and paraphrase a line from some random guy at the Brooklyn Phish shows, "Dubya loves Phil, because Phil drops bombs." This guy's bass and his bass-playing are just off the charts. We need new charts. I can't even put into words how awesome (and supremely nerdy) he comes off in this documentary, especially on "Eyes of the World," possibly the best song ever written by mere mortals. Honorable mention goes to any scenes with Bill Graham, one of my absolute idols.

The lowlight was the random dude sitting next to me -- not only did he take like 10 hits off his bowl without offering me a single puff, but he wouldn't stop gabbing the entire night. Now, that would be okay if he had some old Deadhead insight to pass on, I like talking to new people and making new friends. But this guy was worse than anyone you've ever jokingly referred to as Cap'n Obvious...everything he said was so ridiculously obvious I wanted to wrap his head in with a ratchet. The band would start singing "Goin' Down the Road Feelin' Bad" and he'd turn to me and say, "You know what song this is, right?" They'd flash a picture of the house the Dead lived in at 710 Ashbury (that had the numbers 7-1-0 on it in big print) and he'd yell out "That's 710 Ashbury." The same exact thing for the Mars Hotel seconds later.

This guy sang every word to every song -- poorly too -- and he even started a slow clap with no rhythm during Morning Dew that just killed the mood. The last straw was when the Dead brought out Mickey Hart, and Bobby announces to the crowd, "We're gonna bring out our old drummer Mickey Hart to play with us..." and this guy turns to me and says, "Yeah this was the period where Mickey wasn't with the group." Oh, really? First I forgot the history of one of my favorite bands of all time, then I hadn't noticed he wasn't up there for the last two and a half hours. Thanks for clearing that up. Now give me a hit of that bowl, you stinkbox.

Great night, though, and great flick...a wonderful experience. After the movie I came home and watched a little SportsCenter before flipping over to the Serena Williams v. Maria Sharapova Aussie Open semifinal match. It was midnight, and the ladies were already playing at 5-5 in the third set, Serena surviving a few match points, both women looking completely exhausted. I was pretty tired myself, despite not being in the middle of a marathon tennis match in a grand slam semifinal, so I closed my eyes and just listened to the rest of it whilst trying to fall asleep.

Well, male Slackers, if you've never watched a women's tennis match on full volume with your eyes closed, now's the time to start. Considering every female tennis player grunts and moans at the top of their lungs ala Monica Seles these days, the whole thing sounded exactly like an awesome lesbian porno flick: One chick screaming "Ugghhh" and the other responding "Oooohhhhh" over and over again. Women's tennis...I love this game!

And that train of thought leads us into my favorite three Google searches of the week (how people found Slack via various searches):

--looking for hermaphroditic fuck buddy
--hairy grundle pictures
--bea arthur naked pics

There are some fucked up people out I'm putting together a service in which Jamie Lee Curtis will be your fuck buddy while flashing you pictures of Robin Williams' grundle and Bea Arthur's cooch. It's gonna be huge, huuuuge I tells ya.

And Northwestern last night beat #24 Iowa 75-74 on a last second three-pointer that bounced around the rim three times! This day is lookin' up!

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

Interesting Strategerie

Not the best way to get votes for Mayor:

"So what's this about? In a nutshell, I'm 60 years old, still all alone (except for Sweetie the Rottweiler/cattle dog mix, Mummy the three-legged cat and her two kids, Daddy's boy and Pudgy, but they're not really enough) romantically for whatever reasons, and unless something breaks professionally in the next couple of months, I'm going to be out of money and then I'm going to put the animals to sleep and take my life." More on the story...

And click here for this guy's painful blog.

Time, Time For Some Action

It happened once, and that was bullshit. But now it's twice, and this is an outrage. Since two marks the beginning of a trend, how many more conservative columnists took hard-earned taxpayer money to promote the president's fucked agenda?

"In 2002, syndicated columnist Maggie Gallagher repeatedly defended President Bush's push for a $300 million initiative encouraging marriage as a way of strengthening families. But Gallagher failed to mention that she had a $21,500 contract with the Department of Health and Human Services to help promote the president's proposal..." [Click here for more]

Isn't it funny when people perform unethical acts to promote their moral agenda?! Yeah, you all have such high values...thanks for using my money to get the word out about the government's Yenta the Matchmaker business. Republicans are for smaller government I'm told, but they can tell poor women who to marry (and homosexuals that they can't marry at all)? Marriage incentives are just silly, and paying someone to promote this half-baked plan, much like the No Child Left Behind fiasco a few weeks back, constitutes a ridiculous abuse of power.

I hope the liberal media doesn't (Bill) cower in the face of this growing scandal, beause we sure as shit know that FOX News would be all over this story if the Clinton administration were paying so-called journalists to propagate its questionable policies. This is a fucking joke and hopefully some heads will roll. Roll away, the heads.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Yaaay, More Links

And they're related this time!

From The Onion: As the nation approaches the one-year anniversary of the Super Bowl XXXVIII tragedy, an FCC study shows that millions of U.S. children were severely traumatized by the exposure to a partially nude female breast during the Feb. 1, 2004 halftime show.

"No one who lived through that day is likely to forget the horror," said noted child therapist Dr. Eli Wasserbaum. "But it was especially hard on the children."

Now, a real article: The Federal Communications Commission denied 36 indecency complaints yesterday, a move that is expected to further confuse broadcasters about what is permitted on the public airwaves.

All 36 complaints were generated by the Parents Television Council, the conservative watchdog group that has criticized the FCC's yearlong crackdown on indecency, saying it has not been tough enough on broadcasters.

My two cents: God-fucking-damn I hate the PTC. This decision is hopefully the first in a long line of go home and get your fuckin' shineboxes for this group of prissy pansies. Some years ago it was professional wrestling, now it's all my programs...these prudish fuckers are gonna get what's coming to 'em if they don't cease and desist this incessant whining posthaste. Anyone have any bright ideas as to how to defeat these guys, other than hiring a techie to plant a bunch of kiddie porn on the PTC President's office computer?

Three Links

Three interesting afternoon stories (in addition to my earlier post):

1. It's about 15 years and 15 minutes too late for Lawn Gisland's own...but good effort nonetheless, Miss Gibson.

2. Hey, I know you have an exciting job as the assistant project manager for Toll Brothers construction, but would you by any chance like to win another Super Bowl ring?

3. Google's latest prototype is looooong overdue -- this new program can solve every stoned argument known to man.


So Larry King is doing a complete 180 from last night's show with Ed McMahon, where they eulogized the late, great Johnny Carson. Here's tonight's program:

"Exclusive: His wife is accused of having an affair with her 14-year-old student. Now, Debra Lafave's husband speaks out. Tune in at 9 p.m. ET."

Seriously, this guy is going on national television to talk about how his new hottie wife ran into the arms and lap of a teenager for sexual and emotional gratification because her husband couldn't provide it? This guy wants to discuss, in front of millions of people, the fact that a kid who recently sprouted pubes could satisfy his woman better than him? Well, pal, good luck to you on that.

Caller: So, uh, hey, how does it feel that your wife slept with a teenager while his cousin watched?
Husband Lafave [red-face, embarassed]: Well, er, it doesn't feel great.
King: Next caller, you're on the air...

I can't wait to see this: I think this has the potential to be the most awkward 60 minutes in CNN's two-decade history, especially if King caps off the show by turning to the camera and saying, "If you rent one movie this year, make it Jungle 2 Jungle."

What a group of douches. TiVo, hello!

How Cool is This Guy?

You can save me any time, Jack Bauer. Any ol' time. Goddamn, if I could be an eighth as cool as him, I'd be a lot cooler...

Oh, and mark your calendars for March 25 -- Donnie, Starbux and I are headed to see one of the five Black Crowes reunion shows...tix are on sale now, do it up. Do it.

Monday, January 24, 2005

It's Doberman, Maan

I'm declaring shennanigans on the Supreme Court...gotta love the police state:

The high court gave police broader search powers Monday during traffic stops, ruling that drug-sniffing dogs can be used to check out motorists even if officers have no reason to suspect they may be carrying narcotics.

In a 6-2 decision, the court sided with Illinois police who stopped Roy Caballes in 1998 along Interstate 80 for driving six miles over the speed limit. Although Mr. Caballes lawfully produced his driver's license, troopers brought over a drug dog after Mr. Caballes seemed nervous.

Mr. Caballes argued the Fourth Amendment protects motorists from searches such as dog sniffing, but Justice John Paul Stevens disagreed, reasoning that the privacy intrusion was minimal. "The dog sniff was performed on the exterior of respondent's car while he was lawfully seized for a traffic violation. Any intrusion on respondent's privacy expectations does not rise to the level of a constitutionally cognizable infringement," Justice Stevens wrote.

In a dissent, Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg bemoaned what she called the broadening of police search powers. "Injecting such animal into a routine traffic stop changes the character of the encounter between the police and the motorist. The stop becomes broader, more adversarial and (in at least some cases) longer," she wrote. She was joined in her dissent in part by Justice David H. Souter. --WSJ

I don't know, maybe I'm wrong, but I just don't understand how this is a good decision. Sure, you shouldn't be driving with anything illegal, I know how that speech works. But like our defendant in today's case, I often "seem nervous" when stopped for routine traffic offenses* --that should give the cops license to call in the dogs and see what I have hiding in my trunk? That's fucking bullshit. How is this not an intrusion of my reasonable privacy interests? What if I just seem nervous because I have a full bladder and I fear I might not make it home? Wouldn't a drug-sniffing dog just completely humiliate and intimidate me for no good reason? Can I just piss all over the cop's face after judo-kicking him in the bullocks next time?

I'm not saying this guy should have gotten off, I know next to nothing about his case. And I also don't think getting rid all drug-sniffing dogs is a good idea (hey, some of my best friends are drug-sniffing dogs). But I think this takes the words "probable cause" right out of every officer's lexicon, and that's something I don't think we need right now. Well, now I really love the fact that I don't drive a car anymore.

*When I said I often seem nervous when stopped for routine traffic offenses, that was a bit of a lie. I've been stopped thrice by the police, once for a routine highway speeding stop, and the other two times I should have been arrested on the spot and thrown in jail for being severely impaired while driving. So I've been lucky...but still, this is garbage.


Congrats to all my friends in Beantown and Philly...hopefully you'll all fight to the death within the next two weeks because I strongly dislike both of these cities' fans.

So, in lieu of any more football discussion, here's the top story of the day (well, yesterday):

"LAS VEGAS - A Las Vegas law prohibiting strippers from fondling customers during lap dances is unconstitutionally vague, a judge ruled. District Court Judge Sally Loehrer affirmed a lower court ruling that as many as five misdemeanor criminal cases filed against Las Vegas strippers should be dismissed.

Friday's ruling affects only dancers within city limits. The Clark County Commission in 2002 limited touching between strippers and patrons during private lap dances, specifically barring strippers from touching or sitting on the customer's genital area." More...

If this case makes it to the Supreme Court, does Clarence Thomas have to recuse himself?

Well, if that story doesn't cheer you up, maybe nothing will. After all, today is considered the "most depressing day of the year." So smile...

Friday, January 21, 2005

Quick-Pick Snack Pack III

Sunday in the snow, referees whistle blow...That's right, the forecast calls for more white powder than Charlie Sheen's bachelor party. Too easy? Okay, how about the forecast calls for more white powder than Tom Daschle's and Tom Brokaw's offices circa October 2001? Nothing like a little snow to throw the Vegas odds up for grabs and make the pundits' opinions completely obsolete. It's gonna be a good weekend of football.

Some people call me the Ace Cowboy, some call me Acey the Greek, some people call me awesoooome...I could go on for another verse or two, but I think I've made my point: It's been quite a run for your ol' pal A.C. this year, ripping off a 7-1 record in the playoffs after an incredible regular season. Basically, I'm a thousand times more awesomer than you, so bet the way I tell you to and shut it.

Since I've been fucking around all day long with the boss gone, I have to jam on some here are my first impressions and the picks I'm choo-choo-choosing:

Falcons (+5) over EAGLES -- sorry, Mulgrew
Everyone thinks the cold, rain and snow is going to hurt the dome team, but I couldn't disagree more. I could try, but I would not be successful.

A frigid game in the slush puts the ball on the ground, and I personally think the Falcons have the better rushing attack and the better rushing defense. The Eagles have Westbrook and the occasional run from McNabb, but I'd take the three-headed monster of Vick, Dunn and Duckett any day of the week and, especially, on this Sunday. Philly's front seven are definitely better since the re-emergence of Jeremiah Trotter (not to be confused with District Attorney Trotter from My Cousin Vinny), but I've been more impressed by this Atlanta defense, guys like Brooking, Kerney and Coleman.

Throw in the fact that the entire Falcons coaching staff looks like they're all brothers or cousins, and that's enough for me to think Philly's faithful are in for a rough Sunday night and Monday morning...

Final score: Falcons 21, Eagles 16

Patriots (-2.5) over STEELERS
I used to hate the Patriots a lot. Like really a lot. But now I'm at the point where I can't help but marvel at the job Belichick's done with this team. And to think, every Jets fan under the sun applauded like crazy when he abruptly resigned, thinking he'd be the same ol' awful coach he was in Cleveland, and anyone who tells you different is talking revisionist history. Look at the way this team plays, they're fuckin' unbelievable. They buy into the system, they want it more than anyone else and they deserve to be cocky, yet they remain humble and goal-oriented. As far as I see it, this team just cannot be beaten. I feel better after saying that (and yes, I'm hoping that by admitting this, they'll stop being so good).

The Stillers, though...hell, the Jets beat these fuckers a week ago. And if Billy B & Co. can make Peyton look like Eli, I think he's going to devise a scheme to beat the crap out of Pittsburgh's favorite rookie. Sure, most of the Steelers offense is going to come from Duce and the Bus (how come more people aren't talking about how little action Duce saw last week?), but it's not like the Pats are weak against the run either. These fuckers have more starting linebackers than, um, some team with a ton of starting linebackers. Plaxico, Ward and Randle-El are all solid, but I don't trust Big Ben to be able to hit 'em in stride to take advantage of NE's weak secondary.

I don't know, I just don't even see this being a game. After the coin flip, I think it's over.

Final score: Pats 27, Steelers 13

Enjoy the last weekend of multiple games, and remember to stock up on some food before the storm. Ah, NYC, no shoveling and no some 50-year-old dude kept saying to Verger Dartz, Lukas and me after the Phish show in Atlanta while huffing tons of nitrous: "Gotta love it! Gotta love it!"

Super Bowl is Gay

From the kid who brought you that hilarious rap a few years ago, here's a nice ode to the Super Bowl (well, the SB from two years ago). Gotta play it with some volume, but there are mucho swearwords, so don't play it too loud...

The Search is Over

As everyone with a blog will attest, you kind of get hooked on checking what Google or Yahoo searches bring people to your site. Most people who wind up here from a search engine are looking for either "Pedro Martinez midget" or "Cut that meat" or "Geico caveman commercial," but occasionally we find some gems. Here are my favorite five from this past week:

--One-armed stripper
--He couldn't believe his wife agreed to let the black men fuck and gangbang her (I can't either!)
--Haitian pussies
--Deadwood titlicker
--Bunny Cody and stink

And in honor of that last one:

Greetings Dunph, what's happening?

I got your letter today. Cornhole Academy sounds like it really sucks the big one. I can't believe they make everyone work a lot and not smoke. You should tell that piece of shit Funderturd to shove it. You didn't want to go there in the first place. He'd shit man. Today you should have seen me and Mousy today at school today. We got cocked on a pint of Blackberry brandy and ate some T.H.C. on the bus. We were fucked. This teacher, Mr. Rivera, goes -- "What's wrong with you Delaney?" I go, "I'm totally fucked, man!" Everybody laughed like a bastard. Oh man, you should see this song I'm listenin' to, man. It's called, "Don't Bogart That Joint, My Friend." I think it's by a group called --This is a couple of hours later. Must have nodded out, man. I gotta go, cause I probably definately gonna nod out again. You want me to send you some Squeef, or you got enough? Good luck not getting caught.

Cocked in Rhode Island,

P.S. Mousy says he stink-fingered Bunny Cody.

SpongeBob LeatherPants

I want these nutbars to keep going with stuff...I think if the right-wing religious freaks keep knocking on doors like this, the hysterical laughter and eventual backlash could be epic. SpongeBob is a "classic bait and switch" for the homosexual agenda? That's fuckin' priceless. Man, I love fanatics, they're so cute...

This article is from today' s Boston Herald, but this story is everywhere:

Happy cartoon icon SpongeBob SquarePants is just a little too gay for one conservative Christian group that charges that Bikini Bottom's most famous resident is a homosexual.

Focus on the Family is up in arms about a music video created by the We Are Family Foundation that shows the popular porous cartoon character and several other kids' favorites dancing to the Sister Sledge song, "We Are Family.'' The group claims SpongeBob & Co. are promoting a "pro-gay agenda.''

"We see the video as an insidious means by which the organization is manipulating and potentially brainwashing kids,'' Paul Batura, a spokesman for Focus on the Family, told the New York Times. "It is a classic bait and switch.''

The Times reported that the group's head, James Dobson, also attacked SpongeBob at a pre-inauguration black-tie dinner in Washington, D.C. Tuesday night.

Dobson apparently believes that SpongeBob and his cartoon sidekick, Patrick - who are often seen holding hands - are secretly practicing the Love That Dares Not Speak Its Name.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Viva Le Resistance

In an effort to scoop the Drudge Report, Slack LaLane's well-placed sources have obtained a copy of the president's second inaugural address. Here are a few short excerpts:

"America loves liberty and freedom and freedom-spreading libertation. Freedom freedomination is free with liberty around the libertarious globe. We must continue to expand freedom to the brown ones far away and contract freedom for freedom-loving Americans here at home."

"Would you die already, Rehnny? Our boy Scalia wants your chair, ya big douche."

"Hey Dad, two terms, slut, what? Roll up, bitch."

I can't wait, should be a doozy. On a very related note, I finished the History Channel's two-hour documentary on the French Revolution last night. And while the re-enactments of certain events are kinda cheesy, the way they re-tell the story is absolutely riveting. Great stuff, I highly recommend catching the encore.

I never understood why more people aren't into history. The events of the past 2000 years have been better than any Hollywood movie -- Bruckheimer ain't got shit on the Middle Ages, the Coen Brothers got nuthin' on the Revolutionary War. And this event, specifically, couldn't be a cooler story: The growing poverty of the French people leading the third estate to rise up and depose the royal family (I mean, they fully marched to Versailles and ransacked the palace while screaming for blood!), the rise of the great orator Robespierre and the Jacobins to the head of the Revolution, the paranoia-inspired journalism of Jean-Paul Marat that incited the people, the Tennis Court Oath leading to formation of the National Assembly, the Declaration of the Rights of Man announcing the bitter end of the system of inequality, the sans culottes demanding the blood of the traitors, the Reign of Terror giving way to the Great Terror, everyone fearing they'd be next to lose their severed head to the wicker basket. And the ending is perfect -- Robespierre faces the fate of the national razor, and the country goes through a period of uncertainty before power eventually consolidates into the hands of one man: Napolean. It's a cliffhanger ending, something out of the Anakin Skywalker playbook.

But this program is debunks some myths and sheds new light on stuff I never knew: Marie Antoinette likely never said "Let them eat cake"; Robespierre was a staunch opponent of the death penalty for many years; it was tradition for selected friends and family to watch a new royal couple, in this case, the 15-year-old Prince Louis and a 14-year-old Marie, consummate a marriage on their wedding night (and it's wrong when I watch teenagers fuck?); Marat was murdered by a French girl from the provinces who believed in peace while he called for blood; Danton's dying words were that he only regretted dying "before that rat Robespierre." Just really cool shit.

Sorry for the bland history lesson, folks, but on a day like today, when the president is sworn in, when we hear the words freedom and liberty thrown around like they still mean something, it's important to look back at the lessons from history and honor the past. I promise we'll return to talking about random nothingness later in the day...

(I just re-read this post before putting it up, and I realize my nerd tendencies...get over it. Freedom!)

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Take My Kicker, Please

This guy is my new hero:

"You can't sell human beings on eBay, no matter how many field goals they miss in the fourth quarter of a playoff game. However, that didn't stop one disgruntled Jets fan from playfully putting Doug Brien up for bid.

Neill Drake, a 20-year-old student at Nassau Community College from Merrick. L.I. posted the listing offering Brien to the highest bidder on the online auction site at about 7 p.m. Sunday, the day after the Jets' heartbreaking loss at Pittsburgh. The starting bid was one cent. (Paul Hackett, Drake wrote, would be thrown in for free.) 'We don't want him, so let's see if someone else will take him,' Drake said yesterday." More...

Thankfully, Paul Hackett has officially resigned! Good riddance! Hackett said he wanted to explore other opportunities...I wish him the best of luck, especially if his other opportunities include calling plays for the rest of the teams in the AFC.

In less than a week I want Terry Bradway to stand at some podium and say: "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you new Jets offensive coordinator Norm Chow."

New Jib Jab

Not quite as funny as the first two, but still pretty clever. And while it doesn't feature Clinton's hilarious "What I do?" after being slapped from the first two, he's still the star of the show for me.

New cartoon, yaaaay!

That's a Lotta Hooch

Johan Santana, 2004 AL Cy Young winner
34 starts, 20-6, 2.61 ERA, 265 Ks, 228 IP, 10.5 K/9, 156 hits allowed, 54 BB allowed, 0.92 WHIP, .192 opponent batting average

Age: 25
2004 salary: $1.6 million
2005 seeking: $6.8 million
2005 offered: $5 million

Roger Clemens, 2004 NL Cy Young winner
33 starts, 18-4, 2.98 ERA, 218 Ks, 214.1 IP, 9.2 K/9, 169 hits allowed, 79 BB allowed, 1.16 WHIP, .217 opponent batting average

Age: 42
2004 salary: $5 million base, $1.825 earned in incentives
2005 seeking: $22 million
2005 offered: $13.5 million

As someone who considers himself grossly underpaid, I feel compelled take up Johan's cause here. So you're telling me, the guy with the better stats in every single category, including the best second half for a pitcher in decades, is only asking for $7 million and the Twinkies don't even want to pay it? You're telling me that even if Johan gets his money and Clemens doesn't get his, Roger will still be making twice as much as the best young pitcher in the game? You're telling me that if Johan doesn't get his money and Clemens gets his, Johan will be making four and a half times less than a 42-year-old hurler? Maaan, that's the balls.

It's obvious that Santana is going to win his arbitration case. But now comes word that the Angels yesterday signed Jarrod Washburn to a $6.5 million contract, which may or may not seem that ridiculous, depending on who you are. But is it not silly that Jarrod Washburn (11-8, 4.64 ERA, .269 opponent batting average with only 86 Ks) will make pretty much the same amount of money as the guy who put up one of the most insane post-All Star breaks of all time? Dare I say, that's craisins.

On the other hand, Clemens made more than $10 million a year from 2001-2003, and took a 50 percent paycut to pitch for Houston for one year. And since the 'Stros lost some key cogs in the machine that got them to within nine innings of the World Series, the seven-time Cy Young winner is certainly entitled to some extra cash for last year's generosity and for his incentive to return to a weaker team this year. Right? But given a starting rotation that lost Wade Miller and may or may not have Pettitte's balky elbow for the entire year, Clemens is clearly in control here. He can demand whatever he wants to demand: His ballclub needs him a lot more than he needs the ballclub.

And that's the way it is with a Hall of Fame pitcher. He gets his money no matter what. You lost Beltran? Fuck you, pay me. Kent to the Dodgers? Fuck you, pay me. The bandbox in Houston can't hold a longball? Fuck you, pay me. He'll get whatever he wants in the end, and Johan Santana will be pitching lights out for about a third of the price. Gotta love the free market...

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

[Insert Salami Joke Here]

"A 21-year-old Waltham woman was arrested early Thursday morning after she assaulted her ex-boyfriend and stripped paint off his friend's car with slabs of salami, police said.

Katrina L. Ackermann, 5 Dermody Road, went to the Bryon Road home of one of her ex's female friends about 12:30 a.m. and began hitting her ex-boyfriend in the face and kicking him in the leg, Sgt. Ken Dangelo said.

Ackermann then tossed several pieces of salami on the trunk of the woman's car, stripping the paint."

Snakes! (One Looked at Me)

Funny video of the day, hope this works...Play with some sound if you can.

Bonus points if anyone outside my Jericho friends can name what movie the title of this post comes from...

Monday, January 17, 2005

Get Through, Loretta

One of Northwestern's finest...we loves the seeing-eye single.

All-Time Asswipe

At a time like this, the only thing I can think to do is quote the words of legendary philosophizer Mike Jarvis: "I hope that none of you feel the way I have the last two days, as if someone had come into my house and raped me." Posted by Hello

Friday, January 14, 2005

Yaz Band

I got off work a little early today, perfect for a little nap, nap nap-a-roo before going out for the Big Geller Birthday Bash tonight. But plans for slumber were postponed, as I spent the 50 minutes from 5:10 to 6 PM in Grand Central watching one of the best underground bands I've ever seen (and I've seen my fair share taking three trains a day in the winter).

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: Yaz Band. These guys fucking rock. Three Japanese dudes of varying age and a 50-something black bassist with dreads laying down the funk. I mean, laying it down. Threw $2 in the bucket and signed up for the mailing list -- easily the best two ducats I've spent in a long time.

If you ever hear that Yaz Band is playing in a dive bar or you see them in the subway system, plant right in front of them and watch these fuckers. I bonded with a 300-pound big black dude as the two of us watched in amazement...I'm feelin' it right now.

Quick-Pick Snack Pack II

Despite being absolutely on fire this season, including a 4-0 record last week, my confidence in this week's picks is lower than a teenage fat chick's self-esteem. Frankly, I could have gone either way on each game on the slate...well, in truth, I try not to deviate much from my regular philosophy of going both ways anyway, so this wasn't all that bad.

Originally I wanted to take all four underdogs, but after last week's ridiculousness in which three 'dogs covered, I just don't see that happening again in a strictly "What are the odds?" sense. It was a full-on crapshoot deciding which favorites would cover, but I think I got it right.

Without any further (Freddy) ado, here are my four winners on the way to an 11-0 record this postseason:

J-e-t-s (+9) over STEELERS
The Steelers have never lost a game to the Jets at home. The Steelers haven't lost a game at home this season. The Steelers have never lost a game with Big Ben Roethlisberger under center. I feel like I'm doing fuckin' logic problems in high school math class...but instead of the givens logically adding up to a Jets loss, I think we're gonna Modus Tolens the shit out of these d-bags this week. Or just eke one out like the Chargers game.

The Jets need to come out fired up, but play real loose. That was the key to beating the Chargers last week: For much of the game, the Jets played loose, whereas usually they come out tighter than a gay man's stool. So let's keep that attitude rolling. Paul Hackett should continue to call plays like they're his last ever, opening up the offense, going deep early and often, mixing up LaMont and Curtis to keep the Pitt defense on its girly toes.

Remember folks, Pitt didn't have Plaxico last time around...but the Jets were also two or three plays from winning that game, and perhaps winning big. We took 12 penalties for 84 yards, Becht got called for a bullshit holding call on a huge LaMont run, and some assface kicked the ball into the endzone when we could have downed a punt inside the 1 yard line. If those breaks fall our way tomorrow, look out New England or Indy. I may be a fanboy, but I was right last week, and I'll be right again tomorrow. And our MVP will be LaMont Jordan.

Final score: Jets 23, Steelers 21

FALCONS (-7) over Rams
Since Kurt Warner's deal with the devil elapsed, there's just not a chance in the world I'm going to bet on Mike Martz in a big game. And on the other hand, I'm not going to bet against a rested Mike Vick at home in his first big playoff game in the Dome. Besides, people are fellating Marc's Bulge-r way too much this week, and he's due for a four-interception game against Atlanta's stingy defense this week.

Bottom line, I just have a feeling about this one, a game where Alan Rossum runs back a kick, Keith Brooking runs in a fumble or's gonna be that kind of game, where defense and special teams beats Martz's offense to the punch. I think you're gonna see Beamer Ball in Hotlanta this weekend, once again starring the incomparable Mike Vick.

Final score: Falcons 31, Rams 21

Vikings (+9) over EAGLES
What's with the Moss uproar? I already defended the guy once this week, and now I'm going to do it again. If the guy thinks ten grand ain't shit to him, it ain't fuckin' shit, okay? If the guy wants to shake his dick at someone, let the guy shake his dick at someone. What's with all the censorship these days?! Why does every athlete have to practice "restraint," as most sports pundits are calling for? It's fuckin' silly to me that Moss continues to get ripped apart for these kinds of statements. Let him say what he wants to say...if you think it makes him sound like a fuckin' idiot, then that's what you believe. I think our president's a fucking idiot when he opens his mouth, but I'm not calling for him to practice a little restraint. Well, actually I am, but...

Regardless, I don't think this one's even close tomorrow. I know everyone is loving the Vikes this weekend, and I usually like to bet the other way, but I think Minnesota is the lock of the week. I got nuthin' to add to this, just a final score...

Final score: Vikings 34, Eagles 16

PATRIOTS (-2.5) over Colts
I'm completely out of gas, and I gotta finish up some work. So here's the short, short version (do you? do you?): While everyone expects the Colts and Peyton to exorcise the demons (this house is cleee-uhr), I expect the Pats to come out on top in the end like they usually do. I'll take the Genius over the QB any day of the week and twice on Sunday. A slowed down track, a defensive scheme, the Pats looking to repeat, I don't see Peyton pulling this one out. I'd like to see Peyton rubbing one out, but that's a post for another time.

Final score: Pats 27, Colts 23

"That's it for me, I'm outta here."


Just when you thought you'd seen the worst show on television, here comes ESPN's latest original program Tilt. Here's my extremely well-reasoned, uber-scholarly four-word review of last night's debut: This show sucks balls.

The only time I was even close to interested was the 10 seconds of actual poker they showed, or when I thought the Matador banged a 12-year-old girl, or when the Matador said, "When I run out of toilet paper, I wipe my ass with eight grand." Otherwise, this show is right up there with me not having a day off on Monday on my "Things That are the Terriblest" list. I'd rather watch this high school basketball game instead.

I mean, how does this show get made without a scene where Madsen dances around whilst slicing off an ear? Instead he throws a handful of peanuts at someone? That's lamer than FDR's legs. What, too soon?

In other news, the Pentagon today revealed a list of rejected chemical weapons it had been considering. According to the article, "Most bizarre among the plans was one for the development of an 'aphrodisiac' chemical weapon that would make enemy soldiers sexually irresistible to each other. Provoking widespread homosexual behaviour among troops would cause a 'distasteful but completely non-lethal' blow to morale, the proposal says." Click here for more bombing hilarity...

NFL Divisional Playoffs picks coming later today...

Thursday, January 13, 2005

A Real Home Field Advantage

From today's Boston Herald:

"FOXBORO - Yesterday dawned cold, wet and miserable across New England. In Foxboro, the conditions were probably worse than anywhere, with an overnight snowfall giving way to a driving rain that lasted from morning until night. It was, by any measure, a day to cover up and get out of the elements.

Unless, that is, you like to wallow in the cold and mud.

It's safe to say the Indianapolis Colts don't, and that explains why the Patriots kept the field at Gillette Stadium uncovered as the turf was pelted by the weather. As always, there were tarps nearby, ready to be rolled out. They sat untouched."

As much as I hate the Pats and want to see a landslide wipe out much of New England, you have to hand it to these shrewd fuckers. The best way to beat the Colts is to slow down their offensive machine, and the best way to do that is to play to the elements. Genius.

Still, I hope Belichick somehow ruptures his nutsack jumping over a metal fence between now and Sunday.

Good Stuff

We interrupt this masturbatory blog to bring you a serious topic for consideration:

The Rude Pundit's altern-a-take on Social Security reform...Since he speaks so eloquently, I'll do the opposite: well fuckin' said, Rude Pundit, well said.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming of casual racism and unbridled egotism.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

The Surreal Life

I've never seen this show, but the concept is incredible: Throw a bunch of random has-beens and washed up d-bags into the same house with no script and see what unfolds. Brilliant!

Anyway, Scuffy McGee sent me an e-mail this morning with some potentials for his dream season, which was the impetus for this afternoon's post:

Andrea Barber (Kimmy Gibler), Mark Holton (Chubby from Teen Wolf, Francis from PW Big Adventure), Dennis Haskins (Mr. Belding), Luis Daniel Ponce and Jeremy Licht (twins from the Hogan Family), Jenna von Oy (mmm, Six), and Adam Curry from MTV.

That's a pretty good list, I'd watch that show in a heartbeat. Well, not really, considering I don't watch the ones that are currently on television. But it's a good list nonetheless. Here's mine, off the top of my head:

The fast talker from Micro Machines mershes (also Mr. Testaverde on SBTB), Edie McClurg, former WWF wrestlers S.D. Jones and Kamala the Ugandan Giant, Rue McClanahan (Blanche Devereaux), former Rangers great Mike Gartner (just for the 'stache factor), Carol Kane, Optimus Prime, the little kid from Amazing Grace and Chuck, and Laci Peterson. Shit, scratch that last one, she washed up, but not like that.

Who ya got? Sound off in the comments section below (which means Ethan, poophop and Uno these days).

Borat Goes to the Rodeo

One of the greatest characters in television history is at it again. When he's not throwing Jews down the well, he's telling Virginians he hopes George W. Bush drinks the blood of all Iraqis. I love this guy.

Here's my absolute favorite part of this story:

Speaking in broken English, the mysterious man first told the decidedly pro-American crowd - it was a rodeo, of all things, in Salem, of all places - that he supported the war on terrorism.

"I hope you kill every man, woman and child in Iraq, down to the lizards," he said, according to Brett Sharp of Star Country WSLC, who was also on stage that night as a media sponsor of the rodeo.

An uneasy murmur ran through the crowd.

"And may George W. Bush drink the blood of every man, woman and child in Iraq," he continued, according to Robynn Jaymes, who co-hosts a morning radio show with Sharp and was also among the stunned observers.

The crowd's reaction was loud enough for John Saunders, the civic center's assistant director, to hear from the front office. "It was a restless kind of booing," Saunders said.

I got your full story right here, pal.

Everybody Dance

The Call of the Week comes once again from Dorsey Levin:

"Randy Johnson sounds a hell of a lot like Will Ferrell doing his Janet Reno impersonation."

I couldn't agree more. Between the whole "Don't get in my face" incident and yesterday's apologetic press conference, I think Dorsey's statement is dead-on-balls accurate.

Dorsey also found this entry in the Urban Dictionary, which may rile up some of our nonexistent European readers...

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Any Given Wedding

You never think it can happen to you...until it does. Some hero foolishly schedules a wedding in January, and all of a sudden you're no longer watching your favorite team in the biggest game of the year. A solid investment of 960 minutes in 64 quarters of the season's 16 games yields nothing but a tuxedo, a hefty gift, round trip rides to and from Lawn Gisland and a yarmulke. Of all the time slots the Jets could play in this past weekend, the NFL just had to schedule them at 8 PM on Saturday. Of course.

After sweating out the entire game through text messages, phone calls, a trip to someone's car (where other goodies awaited, snoogins) and a family friend of the groom's portable radio, this was shaping up to be the Best Game I Never Saw. We celebrated wildly when the Jets apparently won, but Radio Guy was quick to note the flag down on the field: Eric Barton, you whore. We're going to ooooovertime. And I'm at a wedding.

The pictures that follow were taken my a very sneaky photojournalist posing as a wedding guest. Rather than re-tell the story of the last few seconds of the game in this here post, feel free to take a look for yourselves at what unfolded...

Bringin' in Brien

I'll set the scene: Barton's blow brought the game to overtime, then Kaeding missed a 40-yard field goal wide right. The dude sitting on my right has the 1050 AM call on the radio in his ear, Donnie Fiedler is providing the color commentary on the cel phone in my right hand (Fiedler's feed is delayed about seven seconds from Radio Guy's call). Here comes the kicking unit, as the drive after Kaeding's missed field goal brings the Jets to the 11 yard line...

At the other end of the room, the groom's sister may or may not be bursting into tears while regalling the crowd with poignant stories about her dear brother's childhood.

Evan's wasted. Posted by Hello

The Kick is Up

Radio Guy is silent. Donnie Fielder screams that Doug Brien has split the uprights, giving the Jets a 20-17 in overtime. The only problem is Fiedler's seven-second delay...he doesn't know yet what Radio Guy is about to inform us: The Chargers called a timeout just before the snap. Now we just look like a couple of dorks. Evan especially. Posted by Hello

Let's Calm Down, Asshats

Shortly after the false alarm, Radio Guy says, "OK, here we go."

"Brien trots back onto the field," Donnie yells, seven seconds after that.

"I love my brother," the groom's sister weeps across the floor.

"Someone tell that girl to quiet the fuck down," Ace thinks. Posted by Hello

20-17 F/OT

Field goal: good. High five: great. Time to party: now.

Holy shit, I'm at a wedding? Is my date still here? I love everybody. Posted by Hello

Monday, January 10, 2005

Oh, Randy!

Don't make this guy won't like him when he's angry.

This is from Newsday sometime earlier today:

If today's actions are any indication, Randy Johnson has a lot to learn about dealing with the New York media.

The Yankees' newest acquistion engaged in a heated exchange and shoving match with a CBS 2 cameraman Monday on Manhattan's Madison Avenue. Johnson, who is expected today to clear the last hurdle in the blockbuster trade that sent him from the Arizona Diamondbacks to New York by completing a physical exam, was confronted by the cameraman on Madison Ave. between 58th and 59th streets as he exited a building, accompanied by a Yankees security representative. As the camera rolled a few feet away from the 6-foot-10, 231-pound Johnson, he reached out to block the lens.

"C'mon man, I'm just taking a picture," the cameraman said as the security guards attempted to intervene.

"No pictures," he warned him. As the tape continued to roll, Johnson became more agitated. He appeared to shove the cameraman while brushing past him and grumbling "Get out my face!"

"C'mon Randy, I'm just taking a picture!" the photographer repeated.

"Don't get in my face, and don't talk back to me!" Johnson scolded as he continued to try to block the lens.

We're off to a great start!

Searching for Slack

My two favorite Google/Yahoo! searches that brought people to Slack this weekend:

1. Can you boil Dayquil to get high?
2. "Michael McDonald" scientology
3. Pictures of the Miami Sojos nightclub

You get off your ass and you boil that fuckin' Dayquil.

Oh, and if you missed this million-word article on Northwestern frat boys in yesterday's New York Times (what the f?!?), here's an opportunity to learn a little about our fine species.

It's-a Niiiice

4-0 on this weekend's games...It's a good thing I don't bet any real money on these picks, otherwise I'd have to put up with winning a whole lotta cash. I really need to grow a set.

Randy, don't let the league or the media get ya down, I'm behind you all the way. The guy fake mooned a hostile crowd, it's not like he jumped into the stands and started delivering haymakers to innocent little white kids. It's just a touchdown celebration, albeit one that may have crossed the line between fun and taunting, but it was just a celebration.

Joe Buck immediately called it "disgusting" and apologized for showing it on FOX's air...apparently Joe forgot that his new Budweiser commercial with Banya debuted this weekend, negelecting to apologize for that fucking travesty. James Brown and the rest of the d-bags on FOX were also quick to poo-poo the move, JB calling the move and Moss "classless," saying "talent only excuses so much." Berman and TJ weighed in as well, Stuart Scott added his two cents with one eye, and all the rest of the writers in the country are fuming.

But where was Joe Buck when the FOX cameras clearly showed Moss pointing to the scoreboard earlier in the game, yelling at the fans "Look at the muthafuckin' scoreboard, the muthafuckin' scoreboard," when the Vikings led 17-0 in the first quarter? Where's the outrage there? How about an apology immediately following that close-up of Moss cursing wildly at the fans on national television? No, Buck didn't say anything, because Joe's a smart guy and he knows the score...he knew the replay of the Moss Moonshot would be shown a million times on every network whereas nobody would ever see the scoreboard clip again, he knew that people would talk about the fake moon incessantly, and it's as if Buck's programmed himself to know that any Joe Horn or Randy Moss or Terrell Owens ridiculousness in the endzone should be immediately shot down with a hevay helping of self-righteousness and faux disgust.

Buck tried to strike a chord with the sports purists and the red staters, scoring points by getting his trumped up indignation on the record. Screw that. Don't be a hero, Joe, you're better than that.

And speaking of FOX, here's a great little piece from today's Daily News:

Attention, blue-state parents. Are you worried about what your children are seeing on TV? Have you caught them ogling Ann Coulter and Sean Hannity as they engage in explicit acts of love with Bush administration policies?

Now you can protect your little liberals from hard-core right-wing positions the same way you censor cable porn. For just $8.95, The FOXBlocker eliminates the risk of exposure to Fox News Channel.

Sam Kimery and Joshua Montgomery, who are marketing the device, say it employs the technology already used to filter adult content.

And every time someone orders one of the gizmos from, Fox advertisers receive E-mail telling them that another consumer has just said no to Rupert Murdoch's brand of "fair and balanced news."

"We hope that companies will see people actually paying to block channels that won't offer alternative views, and then rethink how they spend their advertising dollars," Montgomery tells Variety V Life magazine.

Is Fox worried about this new product?

"I mean, clearly, it's not working," a Fox News rep told us. "Our ratings continue to skyrocket."

More to follow on the Jets, the wedding, the Jack Bauer, and the rest...

Friday, January 07, 2005

Quick-Pick Snack Pack

No idea what I'm doing here, but somehow I picked three 'dogs this weekend. That's usually a playoffs no-no, but I actually feel pretty confident. Every game from here on out is a best bet, and we all know how the Ace Cowboy likes to fuck up the competition in the world of best bets. Basically, I will fuck you the fuck up. So now you know.

Everyone wants to be the guy who goes 11-0 in the playoffs, and I'm clearly (cleeeeearly) not going to be that guy...but here's my best attempt:

J-e-t-s (+7) over CHARGERS
I'm not sure how many ways I can say this: Rushing and Defense wins championships. Everyone says it, everyone knows it, everyone repeats it like a life-affirming mantra. Yet with one of the best one-two combos in the backfield and the league's second best scoring defense, the only thing getting less love than the Jets these days is my groinal area.

I like the Chargers, and I'll root for them to win it all if they beat the Jets this weekend...but that's just not going to happen. We're lookin' at a repeat of Week 2, folks, when the Jets severely outplayed the Bolts and Jon McGraw nearly knocked that mole off Brees' face (I know I've posted the Ace Cowboy/Drew Brees story before, but I just think it's too funny not to post here again -- it's a long post, so feel free to scroll down to the part about my nemesis).

Final score: Jets 26, Chargers 20

Rams (+4) over SEAHAWKS
Both teams are dreadful. "Dreadful, dreadful thugs" (Dr. Rod Randall, 1991). The Rams are usually successful at losing badly when I bet on them, but then again, the Seahawks have fucked The Uno in the ass so many times this season that he's beginning to leave shitstains all over our couches. So, you can't trust either team. And when in doubt, bet the 'dawg.

Final score: Rams 34, Seahawks 28

COLTS (-10) over Broncos
Never in my life have the words "lay the wood" been more appropo. Well, that's not true, there was one time when this girl was passed out in my bed after a party, and the phrase was appropriate there*. But it's also very true in this case. I mean, let's put it this way: If the line were 15, who would you take? 20? I'd need about three touchdowns to bet on Plummer and the Denver running back du jour (that's the Denver running back of the day -- mmmm, sounds good, I'll have some) to cover against this Colts offense in round one of the playoffs. So, just 10 points? I'll lay the wood. Big time.

(*What, you think Mulgrew's the only one who can joke about sexual assault? That's bullshit, I love rape jokes, I'm makin' rape jokes forever, bitch).

Final score: Colts 87, Mini-Ditka 2.

Vikings (+6) over PACKERS
The Pack just isn't that good this year. But the Vikings are worse, and in a weird way, it's almost like they want to be worse. This game isn't much better than the Rams/Seahawks game when it really comes down to it. With the Moss leaving early thing, and the cold weather thing, and some other factors, I just think everyone hates the Vikings so much this week that they should probably cover.

I'm goin' with the Law of Contrary Public Opinion on this one: "When everyone says one thing, I say bet the other way" (Ricky Roma, 1992).

Final score: Pack 31, Vikings 27

Good luck with you bets, Slackers...and for my close friends who will not be at this wedding with me on Saturday night (PEACE D, still time to run, baby), PLEASE text me the Jets scores in real time. I'll be TiVo-ing the game, but I don't expect to make it home without knowing the final score.

Go Green.

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Hoosier Daddy?

After an embarassing second-half drubbing at the hands of Arizona State a few weeks ago, the Northwestern Wildcats have reeled off four straight victories, including the Big Ten opener against the IU Hoosiers last night. Break up the 8-5 Cats.

Northwestern 73, Indiana 52. Woo Woo, W-U. There goes Happy...

Jay-z's Dead

About a year ago an underground DJ named Danger Mouse made headlines by mixing the Beatle's White Album with Jay-Z's Black Album, creating the wickedly popular Grey Album.

Danger Mouse's cleverly titled album predictably caused the record companies' lawyers to do, what you all think they're gonna do, which is just flip out, and three cease-and-desist letters found their way to to the DJ's mailbox. A illegal downloading controversy was born.

Get ready Spinjunkies, because I'm sure you're about to embark on another round of ridiculousness. The Spinjunkies, a group of folks I've never heard of and will most likely forget about in three days, recently turned this mutha out, laying Jay-Z's vocals over the music of the Grateful Dead to create "Jay-Z's Dead." And while I've only listened to a few tracks, I think it's pretty cool shit.

I highly recommend 99 Problems/Scarlet Begonias and What More Can I Say/Shakedown Street, but feel free to check out the rest.

(And courtesy of Slack loyalist and resident heckler poophop, here's a pretty cool mix of the Beatles and the Beastie Boys).

Three unrelated notes:

1. There's something about a rainy day in January that begs for Kind of Blue. If you got it, and it's raining where you are, give it a listen some time today...

2. Last night I Awakenings-ed the shit out of a batch of paper plates flying through the air. Jeremy slingshotted the plates about 12 feet from his kitchenette to the living room, when they appeared to be headed straight for the four oversized wine glasses sitting on the table. Reclining with my left arm behind my head in a spastic, contorted position, I realized our predicament and mindlessly reached out my right hand without even taking my eyes off the television. The result: a damn good catch. The Ambiguously Gay Uno and Evan bore witness, and I hope they were as impressed as I was at my uncorrupted motor skills.

3. This makes no sense.

Wednesday, January 05, 2005


More tsunami videos...

Woke Up This Morning: Normal

(That title's a bit obscure, but it cracks me up every time...)

The following article is so full of puns you'd think it were written by Carrie Bradshaw. But considering the Ace Cowboy has probably spent the equivalent of the GDP of Laos on the delicious doje, I felt the retirement of the nation's top pro-marijuana lobbyist warrants a mention in these here pages...

Exhale, Stage Left
At 61, Longtime Marijuana Lobby Leader Keith Stroup Is Finally Leaving the Joint

"...There was a time, back in the '70s, when Keith Stroup was about as close to a rock star as Washington lobbyists ever get.

He hung out with the Allman Brothers and Jimmy Buffett. He partied with Willie Nelson and presidential son Chip Carter. He had sex in the fabled grotto at the Playboy mansion, where Hugh Hefner hosted a NORML fundraiser.

The man they called 'Mr. Marijuana' grew up on a farm in southern Illinois. His mother was a devout Baptist. His father was a building contractor and Republican Party activist who stashed a bottle of whiskey under the front seat of his Lincoln Continental so he could take a snort when his wife wasn't looking."

Knife Fighter To Wed Model

I'm not entirely sure what I find more it that Heidi Klum is engaged to Seal, or the fact that the article is one of the top stories on (right next to Jude Law's engagement)?

This must be all that hard news I hear Blitzer talking about.


Auburn who? Well, I still think Auburn deserved to be in that championship game over Oklahoma, but that's a moot point now. For some reason, despite not liking or disliking either team more than the other, I thoroughly enjoyed that thrashing last night. It was actually fun to watch, right down to the last quarter.

The halftime show, however, now that was painful. Why do the networks and leagues insist on putting on these extravagant halftime shows that nobody gives a shit about? The only way I'm gettin' into a halftime show is if I see some black areolae and a gyrating Timberlakian pelvis. As for last night's show, I wasn't paying much attention until the very end, but I did catch the worst performance of any entertainer on a public stage in the history of music. Don't mean to get all Bill Walton on you, but it's true. The hiiiissssstoooorrrryyy of music.

I don't want to pick on Ashlee Simpson too much, because everyone already knows she blows more goats than Noah Vanderhoff, but that performance was just atrocious. It's over for her. It's gotta be over for her. Lip synching would have worked better than that garbage. She deserved to be booed mercilessly, and thankfully she was. As Mama Winslow would say, "Way to go, Carl."


When I make a fuckin' New Year's resolution, I keep it.

March 12-13, look out Sunrise, Florida: I'm comin' to town.

(Although I hear everybody's favorite hemaphroditic band "Rape" will not be in attendance.)

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

I'd See These Guys

My friend Chuck is looking to join a band here in Manhattan, so he's been checking out some listings on Craigslist from time to time. Recently he found this ad, which is just too good not to post on here:

Looking for hermaphrodite for high concept art rock band called Rape!
Reply to:
Date: 2005-01-03, 6:49PM EST

So heres the deal, its always been a great debate, are male artists better than female artists, are they equal in talent? Thats why I figure a hermaphrodite, simply put, someone born with male and female genitalia will be the perfect frontmanwoman for my new high concept band.

I have a vision, it is brilliant and we will all make millions.

Imagine 4 guys on the stage, all naked, and having sex with each other, not gay sex, but really straight hetero type of ass play. These guys should be talented enough to be simulataneously playing their instruments while fucking each other, which is genius because of the dual symbolism. Then imagine for the encore we put honey on their naked bodies and release 2 dogs, a horse and 3 monkeys to lick the honey off them, while the animals are being blown by really hot amputee women. All the while the band will keep playing, while either fucking, sucking, or getting blown, never missing a beat!

The hermaphrodite frontmanwoman will be at the center of this and will be dressed like an egyptian pharoa and instead of a microphone he/she will be using a bullhorn which will distort his/her voice so anything he/she says sounds cool. If you are not a hermaphrodite but are willing to castrate yourself, which has some benefits on vocal abilities anyways, than I will consider you for this project.

The name of the band is Rape and we are going to have the word Rape painted in pigs blood on everyone in the band. Audience participation is part of what will make this such a huge hit as by the end of our performance the entire club will be engulfed in an orgiastic frenzy that will be certain to impress Tommy Mottola and Clive Davis, whom I both have on speed dial, and it is not far fetched to say we will have a record deal withing 5-6 weeks of performing. There is serious label interest from all the majors, a massive record label bidding war is imminent. Not to mention the massive publishing deal and rights to the made for TV movie.

Don't miss this amazing opportunity to have an amazing career, this is going to be the biggest band of all time and you suckers dont even know whats coming!!!!

Can I Borrow Your Towel?

"The main airport at Indonesia's Sumatra island has reopened after an accident that dealt a severe blow to efforts to deliver aid to the region worst affected by the tsunami disaster.

The crucial airstrip in Banda Aceh -- the province's only runway -- was closed for much of Tuesday after an aircraft carrying relief supplies hit a water buffalo on the runway."

Who reported this story, John Cocktoston? Mr. Babar?

Monday, January 03, 2005

Bearish on Chad?


Following disappointing performances in the past two games, and in three of his last four starts, player-equity analysts at Ace Cowboy & Associates today cut their rating on the New York Jets star quarterback, downgrading the passer from "Chad Sexington" to "Chad Pennington."

The blogger told readers in a negative note: "Given high perceived risk to both offensive and team performance and low confidence in his flimsy arm that has seemingly healed improperly, Gang Green fans should find players with more attractive risk/reward profiles elsewhere on the team."

Despite the downgrade, however, Ace Cowboy & Associates has maintained its stats target on Pennington for this weekend's match-up against San Diego: 19-26, 278 yards, 3 touchdowns, 0 interceptions.

Ace Cowboy also provided an upbeat outlook for new studs Jonathan Vilma and LaMont Jordan today.

Have Mercy

"So, um, girls, show us where Uncle Jesse touched you."

Would this be the weirdest threesome of all time? You know there'll be lots of therapy for everyone.

And Now...Some Bragging

Hey, I'm entitled to a little boastation every now and then (I'm also allowed to make up words like "boastation" apparently). For the record, the Ambiguously Gay Uno and I are now as Nazis.

The Jets may have decided to fold when it counted, but Uno and I maintained our leads in the weekly Pick 'Em and Best Bets pools, capturing the respective titles and pulling in some much needed cashiola. Give it up for the Uno, who finished the season 41 games over .500, winning an impressive 58 percent of the season's 256 games. That's some solid augury right there, kid, good work.

The Ace Cowboy, on the other hand, had less success in the overall pick 'em pool, but kicked the living shit out of everyone else in the best bets side pool (pick three games with spread each week). Compiling an unheard of 35-15-1 record, my bold statement of the day is that I'm the first person to win 70 percent of his best bets since Lisa Simpson's improbable run of Daddy-Daughter Days in January of 1992. Eat that, ya little yellow prepubescent know-it-all.

If I had any nuts whatsoever, I'd be up about $10,000 with an offshore casino right now, hitting reverses and teasers and straight up bets left and right. For chrissakes, in the four weeks from Week 11 through Week 14, I went 12-0! I didn't lose a fuckin' game! How did I not bet real money on my personal proficiency in prognostication?! Because I have no nuts whatsoever, that's why. Sheeet, man, I suck.

Anyway, here's to some extra cash. Don't rob us.

Beep Beep Beep

Yes, folks, that's the sound of the Jets backing into the playoffs...but as everyone knows, it's not how you get there, it's what you do when you get there. And while my confidence in the offense's ability to drive downfield has waned somewhat since my previously blogged delusions of grandeur, I still have hope and reservations for Jacksonville. Onto the playoffs...

It's a good thing my buddy PEACE D is getting married at the exact same time as the game on Saturday night. Thanks for that. Much obliged, dude. If you run out now, you'll probably be a lot happier in the long run, and I'll be able to watch this victory on my couch. Do it.

Oh, and Happy New Year to all.