Monday, April 30, 2007

"One for Zoo, Please."

Contrary to popular opinion, I've always thought the beauty of living in Manhattan isn't the bevy of constant options at your disposal; the real beauty lies in how quickly you can change your pace.

Let's take Saturday, for example: One minute Hoobs and I were on my couch watching Mariano Rivera notch his first save of the 2007 season, the literal next we were sitting in a fairly crowded theater about to watch a critically acclaimed documentary Yes, and I still can't get the V-Chip scene from the South Park move out of my head. Horse-fuckah.

At 7:59 we decided to check the listings at the IFC Center around the corner from my apartment, and by 8:05 we were in poorly padded seats about to be regaled with completely real, first-person stories about man-on-equine love.

The film centers around a weekender bestiality group of men that suffered from practiced zoophilia in a Washington state suburb. The horse-fucking outfit eventually comes under intense scrutiny when perhaps its most normal member dies of horse-fucking-related internal injuries. Without spoiling it, because I know so many of youse will head out to see it this week, the Zoo documentary does an excellent job of not only presenting a story many people never thought they'd have even the slightest sympathy for, but also immersing you into something so abnormal and forcing you to actually consider the thoughts going through the heads of these particular men.

It's really well done in that regard, and since we saw it in the Village, I'd be willing to bet 75 percent of the theater was full of sexual deviants, half of whom may or may not be horse-fuckers themselves (and that smug-lookin' horse with the trenchcoat that walked in and sat down to our right definitely fucked dudes).

More to that last parenthetical: About halfway through the film I came to a startling revelation that this wasn't just about a group of dudes fucking horses. This stable of men also took it from the horses. I'm not judging in any way, I'm just unveiling my complete naivete when it comes to the meshing of horsecock with man-anus. The gentleman that died that night two years ago didn't get kicked by the horse or anything like that -- he suffered a perforated colon and died of internal bleeding. When I found that out I started planning the sequel, Zoo II: Puncturing This Sentence's Colon As Well.

Strangely, I'm actually going to recommend this film. It's not every day you're thrown into a world so outside your own comfort zone, and in an increasingly partisan and self-centered society, we can all stand to put ourselves into someone else's (horse)shoes from time to time. And you'll love the eerie silence in the theater when the lights go up and nobody has any idea what to say. There must have been anywhere from 50 to 100 people in our room, and you could hear a pin drop.

That's when I turned to Hoobs and said loudly in my best Jewish Mother, "Soooo, how did you like the mooovie?" Good times.

Slack Video of the Day: Two great clips from the good people at Deadspin: a wasted Bruce Willis at the Nets game and a foul-mouthed hockey mom shrieking. Gotta watch both of those.

Slack EPL Goal of the Weekend: What a wild weekend for soccer fans -- Manchester United and Chelsea both played top-six teams in lunchtime affairs on Saturday, with Chelsea needing a win and a ManU loss for any real shot of winning the Premiership for a third straight year. Sadly for Blues fans, they were up 2-1 at home and ManU was down 2-0 at Everton with 30 minutes to play in each match, before all hell broke loose. Bolton equalized with Chelsea on a Kevin Davies header, and ManU scored four goals in short order to basically clinch the title. Craisins.

Now instead we turn our attention southward for the relegation battle, which heated up this weekend with West Ham's 3-0 win versus a sorry-ass Wigan club. But the goal of the weekend came from that ManU-Everton match, with Manuel Fernandes absolutely smashing one past Edwin van der Saar to give the Toffees a two-nil lead. Seriously, check out the replay angles, that's a sickening strike.

Slack Song of the Day: Feeling some RANA today, so that's what we're gonna git -- Poop Georgette III, Good Book, and Phillipe Petite.

Slack NFL Draft Recap of the Day: Jets, I like it. Good moves.

Friday, April 27, 2007

Parting Shots for the Weekend

Color me impressed by Dan Majerle's ability to still drain'm:

One of our friends was a sports reporter in Miami in 2000, and the only thing he reported to me was that Thunder Dan had a giant cock.

On the Rocks

So the first Democratic debate among presidential candidates took place last night. Anyone realize that? I sure as shit did not. I also don't particularly care, but that's another story for another time.

I didn't realize that there's a former senator from Alaska in the Dems' race. Show of hands, who here's heard the name Mike Gravel? I had a Major League "Who are these fuckin' guys?" moment when I saw his name. But after reading the transcripts of the debate and his personal website, I'm guessing the Howard Beale "mad as hell" candidate will become a household name over the next few weeks and months. He's Kucinich, only with chops. And real experience. And gravitas.

Gravel won't be elected, and he won't even come close. But he's there to keep the bigs honest, a role Kucinich and Sharpton played in the last go-round. I like him for two reasons, the first of which centers around the fact that he's actually fairly famous in politics and yet I've never heard of him 'til last night. Check out this snippet from his bio:

"In 1971, he waged a successful one-man filibuster for five months that forced the Nixon administration to cut a deal, effectively ending the draft in the United States. He is most prominently known for his release of the Pentagon Papers, the secret official study that revealed the lies and manipulations of successive U.S. administrations that misled the country into the Vietnam War." A five-month filibuster to block the draft? Damn, that's good times. Um, thanks?

The other reason I like him? I'm hoping he fucks something up early and the newspapers write "Gravel Off to a Rocky Start."

Man, that joke rocks. I fucking love myself.

Slack Link of the Day: Here's a good one: "An obsessed fan tried to run over the husband of Sandra Bullock in an attack at the couple's home in California, police said Thursday." Can you imagine loving Bullock so much that you'd run over her husband? What a world.

Slack Song and Video of the Day: You just turn your pretty head and walk song ever? Up there.

I'm getting really lazy with this blog. Lo siento, senors y senoritas.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Some Video Nostalgia

Music and professional wrestling have long enjoyed a mutually beneficial relationship, much like kegs and eggs.

Cyndi Lauper had a nice stint with the WWF as part of the Rock 'n Wrestling days in the 1980s, and she even included many of the federation's wrestlers in her famed "Goonies R Good Enough" video. The same guy who wrote "Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo," Rick Derringer, also wrote "Real American," Hulk Hogan's instantly recognizable theme song (that was actually intended to be used by the Mike Rotundo and Barry Windham U.S. Express tag team).

But there was some other music in the rasslin' world that flew too far under the radar to truly be appreciated back then -- songs like Junkyard Dog's "Grab Them Cakes" and Hillbilly Jim's "Don't Go Messin' with a Country Boy." At the top of this scrap heap, though, lies little-remembered manager of heels, the Doctor of Style: Slick.

The Twin Towers and Power & Glory manager's "Jive Soul Bro" tune barely registered on the rock and wrestling charts (off the charts the wrong way), even though it's possibly the greatest song of all-time. Check it out for yourself right here and see:

Damn, that's solid shit. If you'd like some more wrestling nostalgia, one of my friends and favorite music bloggers, The Passion of the Weiss, recently gave us his take on who we thought would be Imus' Top 10 Wrestlers.

Moving on, here's a video that hit YouTube this week, and has so far gone unnoticed on the world wide web. It's a look back, for me, at September 29th and 30th, 2000, a silly weekend for a college senior, the most fucked up I've ever been in my life for an extended period of time...and my first time in Las Vegas, Nevada.

The popular rock band Phish had called a timeout -- they were going on hiatus -- and this was Donnie's and my last stand with the group we'd seen many times together in our college career. So we flew out to Vegas with no hotel room and no real plans, traveling only with small suitcases and tickets to the shows, hoping it'd all work out.

Of course it did, as it always does with upper middle class white kids.

It remains to this day a weekend I can't think about without breaking into the biggest shit-eating grin known to man. The shows were great musically, and tons of fun otherwise, and I won't even get into the weekend in general (ecstatic vitamins were all the rage then, and man, we did rage that whole time).

The one downside to the weekend was the controversy surrounding Kid Rock's appearance for three songs at the end of the first night's second set and the encore. I loved it, such high energy, but many people claim it was the real beginning of the end for Phish. With my heart beating out of my chest and my jaw clicking at breakneck paces, I thought it was "Fuckinawesomemanholyshitthat'sgood."

It was just cool to see. You can watch for yourself on Kid Rock's sit-in on You Shook Me All Night Long and We're An American Band. The modified American Band lyrics of "Now all them strippers at Mandalay Bay, went lookin' for Kid Rock but they all went hom with Trey" might have just been the greatest ad lib of all-time.

So in the last two days I've talked about soccer, wrestling and Phish. Wow, am I trying to turn people away en masse? Guess so.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Your Goal: Watch Some Shit

I need youse to just shut the fuck up and cool those jets for a second. Listen, I'm about to switch on the 'hard sell' here, and I want your assurance that you'll sit quietly and follow along. At the end of this nonsense, you can feel free to walk away and never look back. But gimme a moment to bite your ear off.

We all love the sports. The sports are good. We idolize larger-than-life behemoths and we worship the laundry they wear on game days. We're obsessed with the drama that unfolds before our eyes, the ultimate reality show that allows us to bask in the vicarious glory of victory and sulk in the shadows of defeat. It's our natural escapism, our group therapy, our emotional outlet. We are the sports.

And as we approach the end of the European soccer season, I promise you all of these things and more, asking only a limited amount of work from you in return. You liked the World Cup, right? This shit's better. This shit is the shit.

Both in domestic and continental competitions, it doesn't get more awesome than what will transpire over the next month. Right here, right now -- these are the Jesus Jones moments. So I beg you, kind folks, to watch a few select matches over the course of the next month, and if you don't enjoy it, if you don't feel even a modicum of desire to get involved, then it'll never happen for you. Like gay porn.

Let's review where we're at...what's up for grabs? Domestically, with three (or four) matches left to play in the season, there's a hot two-team race at the top of the Premiership, a fight for a few spots in European competition next year, and a crowded five-club house at the bottom of the table to avoid relegation to the next division.

Chelsea and Manchester United, the same two teams in the hunt for the Prem title, will also square up in the FA Cup final on May 19th, 10 days after the sides meet at Stamford Bridge to possibly decide who wins the league. And on the continent, four teams remain in the fight for the title of Europe's best, including my beloved Liverpool. The Reds take on the Blues today in the second semifinal (ManU took a 3-2 lead on AC Milan yesterday at Old Trafford with the help of a Rooney Tunes brace), and I'll be down at the Red Lion today with my Gerrard #8 jersey to punch Don Fiedler in his John Terry-lovin' face.

Chelsea, already holders of this year's Carling Cup, is looking for an unprecedented quadruple (Prem, Carling Cup, FA Cup, Champions League), while ManU is looking for the treble (Prem, FA Cup, Champs League). This is serious business. Come May 9th and May 19th, these two clubs will figure all that out, and possibly May 23rd for the Champions League final, but that'll most likely be a 2005 repeat of Liverpool and AC Milan -- creepier still that Liverpool beat Chelsea in that 2005 semi. The second legs are next Tuesday and Wednesday on ESPN2, so make sure to set your TiVos for the onslaught of greatness.

But the big battle is for the bottom. Can you imagine how awesome it would be to watch the Royals, Devil Rays and Nationals battle it out to ensure a spot in the Major Leagues next year? The bottom three get relegated to the next division down, and only one slot is confirmed -- Watford sucks. Then there are five clubs within four points of each other, each with three matches left. Charlton and West Ham are currently in the drop zone, but the woeful Wigan and Gary Sheffield United are just two points clear, and the United States of Fulham only three points. For these five, every single point can mean the difference between millions of pounds and toiling away for a year at a shot at promotion. This is why soccer is great, and you're nothing.

(I won't even bring up the race for the Spanish Primera title, because we don't get a chance to watch too many matches here, but there's some serious shit goin' down there too.)

It's baseball season, it's the NHL playoffs and it's the NBA playoffs. The NFL Draft is right around the corner. Primetime season finales are around the corner. There's a ton of shit going on in the world, I get it. But these are the glory days; these are the times when you tune into a random match on Fox Soccer Channel and end up watching a game that sends a club down to the minor leagues, or clinches a Europe spot for another. This is heartbreak central and elation city.

It's also the showcase: Chelsea, Liverpool and ManU are all still on the hunt for the Champions League trophy, three of the hottest teams in the world. Chelsea hasn't lost since January 20th (when my Reds beat 'em solidly), and Fiedler and I were there to witness their birth to good form. Too bad they're goin' down in three hours.

That's all I got. Just a public service, letting you know that the best thing going this month involves something you already wrote off because of a funny parody from The Simpsons.

And Now...A Programming Note

Please forgive this straight happens from time to time.

Two days after journogeeks everywhere lost a true giant in David Halberstam, a legendary public advocate returns from retirement.

Tonight on PBS, Bill Moyers, the guy that does his job better than anyone out there does theirs, reprises his role as Asskicker for the Public with the premiere of his cleverly titled new show, Bill Moyers Journal. Moyers returns as the ultimate arbitrator of truth, the ombudsman to end all ombudsmen. This man exudes the tenets of real journalism, and his first topic has promised to shake things up.

This evening marks the debut of his 90-minute documentary, "Buying the War: How did the mainstream press get it so wrong?" You can read a full preview on Moyers' website, but I'm pretty sure it shows Dan Rather crying like a schoolgirl. Bully for us.

Try to watch it, or set your TiVos. I'm guaranteeing goodness.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007


It's a busy day at Ye Olde Office, but this quotation from this article with the headline "Docs fight to save man's willy" managed to strike my fancy this morning. Fannntastic:

Sales rep Stuart McMahon, who was eating supper with his girlfriend, said: “This guy came running in then charged into the kitchen, got a massive knife and started waving it about.

“Everyone was screaming and running out as he jumped on a table, dropped his trousers and popped his penis out. Then he cut it off. I couldn’t believe it.

I couldn't believe it either. In New York we have people running into pizza places to shoot employees in the back before popping two cops and dying themselves. In London, apparently they run into pizza places to cut off their own Johnsons. Weirdo Brits.

And this video is awesome. That kid is back on the escalator again...

Monday, April 23, 2007

A Quick Beisbol Rant

What a shitshow up in Boston this weekend...Hey, who's pitching the Yanks' next game, Moe with the gimpy leg?

By the cock of Zeus, what the hell is going on with this staff? Are we really expecting big things out of Andy Eugene Buttchin and four dudes that may or may not be working at Bennigan's six months from now (or Benihana in Kei Igawa's case)?

But I want to wish a hearty congratulations to my Sawx fan friends: You bested our swordsman and our giant this time. The problem is, it's still only April, and now the team heads to Yankee HQ in Tampa for a series with the Rays. Is there any real doubt that this weekend's injurious and insulting debacle is gonna force the Hand that Rocks the Clemens? Big Stein can't like that three-game result, and if he still has any mental faculties at all, which is currently up for debate, he's cutting a fat check sometime soon and #22 is coming back to the Bronx. Mark those palabras. And it's all because of you, Sawx fans.

I mean, is there anything more disgusting than Manny Ramirez's head? I'd rather shit in a pair of tighty whities and wear 'em all day than be in the same room as that clownish 'do. I'm pretty sure I said this last season sometime (possibly after the five-game sweep, possibly after he made up an injury and shut'r down for the season), but he couldn't look any more like a 13-year-old American girl that just returned from the Caribbean -- like ohmigosh, I got my hair braided and I rode a jetski! That's Manny: a girl on vacation.

And congrats as well on lowering your standards to fake a city-wide lovefest -- Beckett and Dice-K both leave to thunderous standing ovations from the Saturday and Sunday crowds, having only given up a total of 11 runs (10 earned), 17 hits and three walks in their efforts. I mean, I'm all for cheering on your boys, but that reminded me of the scene in Arrested Development when Lindsay hangs up Maeby's C+ test score on the fridge.

Well, the Wanger's coming back, and we've still got a long way to go before the season ends with us on the outside looking in. But, shit man, those Os and Jays are heating up, a four team race to the top. I got dibs on top bunk.

Slack Link of the Day: This story broke last week, but I forgot to post it here -- apparently the Chinese are just as racist as the Klan:

"A couch labeled as 'nigger-brown' got its offensive name from a bad translation program, according to the furniture's supplier. When users enter "dark brown" in Chinese in older versions of the Kingsoft program, its spits out the n-bomb. Newer versions don't, but if you type the slur in English, 'dark brown' shows in Chinese." Crassic.

Slack Video and Song of the Day: Ohhhhhhh to be Prince Caspian: This video actually has a naked guy running across the stage at about 2:40. Naked guy -- excellent butt! Carini's gonna gitcha.

Friday, April 20, 2007

Battle of the Smallfolks

Youse folks all remember the Little Superstar, jes? That diminutive Indian fucker could dance, he could smoke, and he could kick ass.

But apparently this whole time there's been another awesome tinydude out there, and his name is Weng Weng. This Filipino looks just as cool, and he's got all kinds of sweet videos up on YouTube right now. Let's take a quick peek at Secret Agent 00:

So who do you think would win in a fight, Little Superstar or Weng Weng? Cast your vote below, and please, as per usual around here, feel free to be as stereotypical and demeaning as possible. And if you'd like to see the two of them fuck and suck, even though it's homosexing, you can admit that too. Hey, it's just natural curiosity.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

T. Bone Pickens

Let's turn down the lights and get serious for one second...then we'll return to our usual culture of dickheadedness and shitfaceosity.

So a couple people have expressed minor outrage about my posting of the Richard McBeef YouTube videos. I honestly don't get that outrage, and I thnk it's a bit misplaces. I feel nothing but sorrow for the victims of the VT tragedy and their families, and a more serious off-the-blog Ace has been dying a little inside every time he tries to wrap his head around this horrific massacre (third person, allllright).

Interestingly, I usually hate stories that get beat to death in the news cycle, stories like this one. But this story is grabbing me for some reason. Like many of you, I don't understand the impulse to kill. At all. I don't get the impulse to commit assault, even, or spit on anyone, or anything like that. So, to me, this is a window into a tortured soul, a soul I will never be able to comprehend as long as I live. That explains my fascination at least; I can't speak for anyone else.

But my default defense mechanism is humor. It may be a character flaw, but it's my character nonetheless. C'mon, you gotta be able to find something funny to pick you out of the bad news doldrums. And you gotta be able to make fun of this kid and his shitty works of literature, instead of glorifying him like has been done for two days.

Anyway, most people are lined up against NBC's decision to air the kid's videos, and the network's a legitimate target for gripes. One dude on the Phish message board just wrote a hilarious paragraph about the subject, and I thought I'd share:

Worst part about this fuck is that he's really NOT EVEN INTERESTING. His *manifesto* can suck a little rice dick. You're not jesus. You are a slimy green pig cunt, youre nobody, thats why no one liked you. Your writing sucks, and is the obvious byproduct of a kid who wanted to get his weenie fondled and his bum-bum pounded by his stepfather.

But how is it in poor taste to link to some videos that are taking this kid down a peg? I'm not sure. I'd like some help from youse.

That's all I want to say on the subject. But if you'd like to pick a bone with me, or rather, if you've got a bone to pick, you know where to find me. Comment away below. I'm your huckleberry.

Slack Celebration of the Day: I didn't want to jinx it, so I held off 'til the completion of the sweep: But the New York Rangers have officially swept the Atlanta Someones. I mean, seriously, Atlanta has a hockey team? Didn't the Flames leave for a reason? More hockey in the South? Take care, Thrashers, the Blueshirts are done with you. Hard to believe, by the way, that I haven't been to a playoff hockey game in 13 years. Thirteen years! I miss 1994. What's hockey?

Slack Videos of the Day: And now for some videos that'll make youse either laugh or think. Or thinklaugh. Or laughtink. Or laughejaculateinyourpants. One of those.

--Our man Rashid forwarded over this clip of Japanese Air Sex. No, no, it's not a montage from the Nipponese Mile High Club, it's basically air guitar with sexual positions, but it's twice as funny, because they're air-fucking. And that's classy. (Rashid also has a really interesting take on the VT aftermath and the thought police that's worth reading...)

--Sticking with the Japanese, here's a hilarious video of a bull-like mound charge and a coward pitcher. I'd probably do the same. So much for kamikaze.

--This one clearly lacks some old-timey British blooper music, but at the same time it contains some fantastic gaffes that'll make your day. Peer into the eyes of fishing show bloopers.

And we'd like to wish a very happy 32nd birthday to Red Cowboy, the bestest broham on Earf. Shit man, soon you'll be Gray Cowboy.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Too Soon?: The McBeef Epic Gets Epic

I said yesterday that someone had to act out the Virginia Tech killer kid's brilliant one-act entitled Richard McBeef on YouTube and let the Internet make them a superstar. Well, I think it's about to begin, and I'd like to get the ball rolling. May I present, This Genius:

Here's Part II, featuring the introduction of the mother character:

You gotta love a few things about this thing: It's the first one as far as I know, which is key. But you can actually hear this kid breathing heavily as he struggles to change characters, which adds to the awesomeoness. Plus you've got the family dog coming in for a cameo where a cameo wasn't warranted. Classic. The whole production is craisins. Two thumbs up and a kudos bar to you, Steve Brandon.

Gore God Bless the Internet. I see we have another entry, a cold read:

I like the first guy better. I cast him to be my Internet Superstar.

If This Doesn't Make Youse Laugh...

...You might be a terrorist. I'm just sayin'. Tyson rules.

Goddamn, the phrase "stomp on their testicles" is just uproarious.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Calling All Internets Superstars

Do you and two friends want to make a name for yourself on the world wide web overnight? Here's your chance: Rehearse and film yourselves acting out the Virginia Tech killer's recently unearthed and horrifically bad one-act play entitled "Richard McBeef" and post it on YouTube by the end of the week. Seriously, it'll get a million views in 24 hours.

I don't even want 10 percent for the suggestion. Donate my share (and yours) to the victims' families or some other post-tragedy cause...

Jesus, this is some piss-poor writing: " prematurely ejaculating piece of dickshit. Sucks for you, you motherfucking McBeef." Wait, this kid majored in English? Sure he didn't major in Crap Studies?

Imus: "I Missed It By a Week"

Strange to think, but if he made those comments just one week later, Poor Ol' Imus would still be employed right now. Truth.

Anyone else get the recurring feeling that the mass media is nothing but a swarm of locusts buzzing from one crop to the next, with no recollection of what it just devoured?

Locusts? Shit, that actually sounds more like Sam Malone.

Slack Review of the Day: I caught an incredible show last night, a male and female Mexican acoustic guitar duo steeped in the history and traditions of the trash metal scene. Seriously, Rodrigo Y Gabriela, up there on the list of best shows I've seen this year.

Slack Song of the Day: The lovely and talented Grace Potter's got a new album coming out this summer, and because I think she's awesome to quite awesome, we're featuring a link to one of the tracks on the musical playground. Jeez, two HT links in one post -- I'm a genius when it comes to blatant cross-promotion.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Don't Forget to Cup the Balls

Move over Autistic Kid That Hit All Those Three-Pointers: The world wide web has found a new hero, and Beirut Master be thy name.

Still, I'd like to see this mastery applied to game-time situations. Who knows, this could be the type of hot-dog kid that can hit any shot in the world in practice, until it's time to line up twelve cups on twelve. Then he turns to mush and his partner wants to beat him about the face, chest, neck, breast and head with a ball-peen hammer. I've seen it happen. I've wielded that hammer. I am Spartacus.

Man, I miss playing hundreds of games of Beirut for no reason.

Slack Link of the Day: New StrongBad e-mail...gotta love a video with the phrase, "I've got the best lawyer soft tacos can buy."

Slack Video of the Day: No introduction truly necessary here -- this one's called Hangnail of the Yankees:

Slack Premiership Goal of the Weekend: We saw many important goals over the weekend, including Herr Ballack's opportunistic boot in the second half of extra time in the FA Cup semifinal that helped Chelsea to a 2-1 victory over Gamst & Blackburn. But perhaps none were more important than the three that (Gary) Sheffield United scored against West Ham at Brammall Lane on Saturday.

The bottom half of the table is more interesting than the top half right now -- for the uninitiated, the bottom three teams in the Prem get relegated to the next division (AAA-ish) and three teams from the Championship get a promotion and a warchest. The race to stay up is sexy as hell, one that will surely come down to the last weekend, and I've been perhaps mistakenly saying to anyone who'll listen that Sheffield is going down like a roofied fat chick with low self-esteem. West Ham had a great chance to move closer to the safety zone with a won on the trot, but Sheffield United came through with three marvelous goals to stay out of the drop zone.

And Michael Tonge's free-kick strike, the first of those three, is clearly the goal of the weekend, both in beauty and in importance. Check it out, pick a team and get involved in the relegation battle.

Slack Song of the Day: Wanna see Paul Rudd and David Wain sing some Boston shit with Of Montreal as the backup band? Me too.

Friday, April 13, 2007

End-of-Week Linkage

I'm feeling pretty uninspired right now, so bite into these for now:

--A Series of Letters to the First Girl I Ever Fingered, written by the mostly hysterical Michael Ian Black (boo, Sierra Mist)

--Oh, good lord, this headline is priceless: "Diner scarred for life after sausage explodes in her face." Sadly, the article is less about bukkake films and more about serious burns that have actually scarred the woman horribly. Tough times.

--Only a matter of time: get yo' Nappy-Headed Ho gear, teddy bears, T-shirts, infant bodysuits, you name it

--I shit you not: Arizona has built a crosswalk for the elk, and it seems to actually be lessening auto-animal collisions

--From you, Dad! I learned it from punching you! Yikes.

--Not a fan of celebrity gossip, but this one is too good: "Melanie 'Scary Spice' Brown Wants To Prove Eddie Murphy Is Her Baby's Father"

--Roommate Glaser and I were watching CNN last night, and across the news crawl came this gem: "Nailgun injuries have risen 200% since 1991." We laughed at the weird story, but as it turns out, there are 37,000 nailgun injuries a year. I didn't even know that many people had exposure to nailguns, let along getting injured by them all the time. And why is the CDC calculating this? They don't have bigger fish to fry? I guess not -- 37,000!

--And, finally, here are a couple of videos to end the day...

From the desk of Jake Zebra, let's check in on this tribute to everyone's favorite Norwegian, Morten Gamst Pedersen:

And here's one of my favorite jams the popular rock band Phish ever played, the last nine minutes of a sweet version of Harry Hood from 6/22/00 (my 21st birthday), with some serious special guests:

That's that. Anyone have cool plans this weekend? Eh, I don't care.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Snail on Turtle Action: Weeeeeeeeee!

From the desk of Bart Starbux comes this, some sort of trike and/or Big Wheel race on Easter looks like Christly fun.

And now some commentary from our judges:

"At first, I was sure that the tiger suit guy right at the beginning was my favorite. Then, I was confident that the two guys dressed like Beaker from the Muppet Show at 00:20 were the best, especially because they pass at exactly the same time in all that chaos. But no, wouldn't you know it, right near the end, there goes a Lego-head wearing prison stripes at 01:03. Winner." --Don Fiedler

"My favorites are the guy on the huge blue van--I really wish we could see him complete the spin that he is starting as he exits the screen--and some guy in a cape that flies by about halfway through. Nothing special about his outfit, but man is he moving! I also like the guy that has some sort of drinking device mounted on his big wheel--he's actually pulling on the straw as he goes by!" --Starbux

"I'm pretty tired. Cool shit, though." --Ace

Slack Link of the Day: And another thing, Vonnegut -- I'm stopping payment on the check! Sadly, star of Back To School and some kind of author Kurt Vonnegut passed away last night at the age of 84. It's always sad to lose someone of his caliber, with his brain, with his perspective. We need more Vonneguts in this world, not less.

Slack Link of the Day II: This Imus story is really starting to bug me. Enough already. I'm all for the two-week suspension, and I'd also like to see a two-week moratorium on talking about this thing. Imus is NOT the problem. He used stupid words. Let's deal with real racism, not jokes from so-called shock jocks that haven't been funny since the early 90s. Jason Whitlock says as much in his latest column for the Kansas City Star, and I couldn't agree with him any more. Kudos bar to Big Mr. Whitlock, of whom I've always been a big fan.

On a related note, where do Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton get off on leading this witchhunt? Um, didn't Jesse Jackson call the Jews "Hymies" and New York City "Hymietown" WHEN HE WAS RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT? Wasn't Al Sharpton involved in a gigantic rape hoax that nearly tore the city apart, one of many such moronic buttinsky moves? Goddamn, if these two schmucks did their jobs well, they wouldn't have jobs any more. No wonder why they just make noise and don't take real, effective action. Go away. The black community, which I know nothing about obviously, needs better leadership.

Slack Video of the Day: Well, it's all set now. For the first time in Champions League history, three English teams are among the final four. And on one half of the bracket, Donnie's Chelsea club will meet my Liverpool squad in what will surely be the end of our friendship as we know it. Surely! The Reds and Blues are two of the hottest teams in the world right now, and on April 25th and May 1st, we'll find out which one plays a better 180 minutes and advances to the finals. I'm pretty confident I won't be walking alone when all is said and done.

Chelsea clearly has the better overall 11, but Liverpool has been playing really clever football of late and will for sure escape the Bridge with a fantastic result on the 25th. The real question will be, which skipper shows up in a bigger way for their club, Fat Franky Lampard or Steven Gerrard? To help us figure it out, let's consult this video (meanwhile, there are about 25 Lampard v. Gerrard mashups on YouTube, proving the Brits love the Internets more than we do):

Slack Song of the Day: Been listening to this 12/17/04 Fantastic 4 show a bunch since my new roommate let me in on it. The side project features Eric Krasno on guitar, Adam Deitch on drums, Robert Walter on keys and Cheme on sax, and it's basically as awesome as a side project gets. Seriously, hop on this show, you'll thank me.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Mmmm...Unexplained Bacon

This would be the greatest thing of all-time if it were actually real...

To the genius that scribbled those four precious words on that sign, we salute you. And we salute fatness -- not fat chicks, though.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

That Many? Shit, I Need a Life.

I just realized this, but yesterday's fairly ridiculous "Paging Richard Mulligan" shenanigans constituted the 1,500th overall post on this here blog. Fifteen-hundred nonsensical pieces of douchebaggery that have wasted everyone's valuable time, most especially my own.

And how do I celebrate 1,500 posts? Apparently with an insensitive treatise on how an updated sitcom of Empty Nest called Empty Womb that centers around an abortion doctor could save the modern situation comedy. If that isn't class, I don't know what class is.

The employment gig was a big pain in the arse today, so I've got nothing to feed you but recycled canned peaches. I posted this over on HT today, but it's good enough for Slack as well: Here's a classic music management clip that has somehow escaped my peepers for many months, a hilarious (and sad) video of two members of The Turtles in 1990 explaining the shitty managerial experiences that come along with being the group that sang “Happy Together.” Check it out...

For more music-related YouTube videos, head over to Pullin' 'Tubes.

Monday, April 09, 2007

Paging Richard Mulligan

I can't stand the state of the modern television comedy, and as such, I've been trying to think of ways to improve it. And this weekend, I thought of a revolutionary new idea for a sitcom.

I'm telling you, this thing will be the talk of the town -- and I'm talkin' about the big town, a whole big town, not just one of those podunk dry towns with the one blinking yellow stoplight and the general store that sells Git'r'Done merchandise, fishing bait, and incest supplies*.

Here it is: I'm gonna produce an updated version of Empty Nest.

Well, it won't be Empty Nest exactly, and the characters will have different names and be staffed by different actors. But it will center around a widowed doctor, his insanely different daughters who've come home to live with him after failed marriages, his Southern belle nurse (okay, I'm still calling her Laverne), and his wacky neighbor, who may or may not be played by Joe Isuzu this time around. If Joe's not available, I'm getting Alvaro Espinoza. No idea why, that just sounds good to me.

Now, here's the twist: We're gonna sneak attack everyone here. We'll shoot five episodes, show them to the network, make it universally hilarious with Midwest appeal, all the while being very vague about Dr. James Christian's specialty. The show will predictably grab rave reviews, but then, about five episodes into it, we unleash the beast.

Dr. Christian is an abortion doctor. Late-terms and everything...

Is America ready for its first sitcom about an abortion doctor? I think so. Even if my updated masterpiece is offensively retitled Empty Womb? I still think so. If we can fall in love with a mobster, a crooked cop, a badass saloon proprietor, and some of the most depraved characters Hollywood screenwriters have ever created, surely we're ready for a lighthearted comedy about an abortion doctor with a heart of gold and a pair of mismatched daughters!

I'm gonna go engrave my own Emmy right now. Youse all agree, yeah? I mean, it's certainly better than the Womb or No Womb idea that we bandied about on Saturday, whereby a large studio audience would ultimately decide whether or not a preggers woman would have to abort the baby or keep it 'til birth (and if it's "keep it 'til birth, the audience then decides whether she'll raise it or give it up for adoption). I think that one has more potential for awesomeness, but at the same time, it's just a little over the top. Just a little.

Now I just need to find some interesting plot devices...

*What do you think constitutes "incest supplies?" Best answer gets $5.

Slack Link of the Day: Wait, some people actually want to set up a code of conduct for the blogosphere? Who are these outlaw wranglers, Wyatt and the Earp Brothers? No, no, in all seriousness... Go shit in your hat, ya no-good fonzanoon.

Slack Link of the Day II: The Rangers Report posted a clever little bit about Jaromir Jagr the other day, and with the playoffs kicking off for the Blueshirts on Thursday, I thought I'd throw it up here with the hope of getting some good blogging karma:

For those with a sense of humor, picture this: After his quote about how he even likes practice these days, he left the dressing room doing his impression Allen Iverson’s famous “Practice…We talkin’ about practice?” diatribe. To see and hear someone imitate “Practice?” in a Czech accent really puts a whole new spin on it as a comedy routine. Classic stuff.

Slack Video of the Day: Are you looking for a new way to fold a T-shirt? I know you are. I see you, struggling and misfolding. That's right, I watch you fold your laundry. I'm everywhere. And now I come with a new way. The new way. Watch this heady shit.

Slack Video of the Day II: "From One Awesome Derek To Another," Bernie Williams jams with the Allmans at the Beacon on Saturday.

Slack Song of the Day: My Hidden Track pard'ner Scotty B turned me on to the Grateful Dead Taper's Section when it launched some months ago, and you'd have to be a serious turd to ignore it so often. Seriously, this thing is the tits, the bees' knees, the cats' meow (actually, is it a singular cat or plural cats that are meowing?). This week's Section is fantastic, and it features a ridiculous version of It's A Man's World by Pigpen that you gotta hear. Check out the rest, it's one of the best free resources you'll find for quasi-hidden Dead tracks.

Friday, April 06, 2007

Hmmmm Hmmmm, Child

Next time someone sends you an e-mail with some bogus shit in there, just send this right back to them...even if it's your boss...and he's African American. It sends the right message.

That's just good stuff right there. I love the Web of Intertubes.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Great News Not About My Car Insurance

Extra Innings is coming back to cable...I love that I'm happy about something that I will almost surely have to shell out $160 to receive.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Random Hump Day Droppings

It's rainy, Andy Eugene Buttchin's re-emergence in Pinstripes has been postponed and the Chairman of the Boards awaits at the Gramercy tonight. So for now, let's proceed with a couple random thoughts:

--On Monday I saw a chick in a Pepperdine sweatshirt walking passed me going the other way. I kinda feel like that would be a fun school to say you once attended. I went to a college with two directions and a suffix, and that's not fun for anyone. It connotes drabness. Pepperdine is exciting, it's got a condiment in it, and the spacing fits well across the chest on a sweatshirt. Although, part of me feels like Pepperdine should be an all-black school. I mean, what kind of students would you expect at Powderton or Saltbern?

--I came up with a great T-shirt by accident in a conversation with TJ in OH the other day. A light drizzle fell on Manhattan as The TJ family came to town, prompting me to say, "A little rain never hurt nobody... except New Orleans." I'd wear that proudly.

--Since Chilly Jackwater was too big a puss to post this in my Allman Brothers review yesterday, I'll pass along a small snippet of his e-mail to me: "Looks like I'll be missing out on the All Man Band this year (my friends and I always thought that'd be the perfect name for a gay, Allmans cover band)." That's just brilliant stuff right there.

I predict a double headliner of Lez Zeppelin and All Man Brothers Band some time in the next year.

--If this isn't the best picture of the year, I don't know what is. Good God, man, that is one Gangly Handful elevating to heights unknown...

--Along those lines, I slept well to quite well last night, knowing that Liverpool is just about through to the semifinals of the most prestigious competition in the world: the UEFA Champions League.

Following yesterday's 3-0 lambasting of PSV Eindhoven up in Pot Country, the Reds (er, yellows?) are all but assured a spot in the final four against either Chelsea or Valencia. Liverpool dominated play against what could only be called a piss-poor and depleted PSV side, though I've been most impressed by the form of the Reds' backline. Both defensively and contributing to the attack, Liverpool's back four has been incredible of late. In fact, four of their last seven goals have been directly set up by Arbeloa, Finnan and Aurelio. But perhaps the prettiest goal was set up by PSV's defense, with Norwegian Ginger Kid John Arne Riise blasting one into the net with that strong to quite strong left stump of his. Check this shit out.

--I learned it from snorting you, Dad! Turns out, Keith Richards’ longtime manager claims the skeletal rocker was totally kidding when he said “I snorted my father. He was cremated and I couldn’t resist grinding him up with a little bit of blow.”

Joke or not, the whole incident begs the question: Which dead person would you most like to cremate and snort? Or better yet, who'd you like to be cremated and snorted by? Would you kill yourself, be cremated and be snorted by Kate Moss just to say you were inside her? I bet you would, you sick fuck.

--Beep for Jesus...Honk Twice for Satan. Awesome.

Allright, that's it for now. Sorry for the lack of effort. This blog sucks.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

My Evening with the Allmans

Last night marked the first time in my nearly 28 years of earthly cognizance that I elected to attend a concert over a big-time sporting event. And given Florida’s early lead and subsequent coasting in the NCAA Final over Ohio State, and given my glorified side-stage perspective of a hot-as-fuck band from the right side of the second row, I’m confident I made the fine choice to head up to the Beacon.

I'm gonna be the clever cross-promoter here: Head on over to the musical playground for a full review of last night's festivities...

F@#k Bill O'Reilly

Gonna be a busy day at the ol' henhouse. Might I recommend instead something like Snoop Dogg throwin' out some choice words for Billy O:

Thanks to the always at-the-ready Coach for diggin' this one up...

Slack Link of the Day: What a serious putz: "CBS free-lancer on Masters arrested in bank robbery." Way to goooo, Carl

Monday, April 02, 2007

It's Heeeeeeere

With the Family Justai in town from Ohio (TJ in NY?), a group of us took our out-of-town friends and their seven-year-old daughter to the planet-themed Mars 2112 eatery on Broadway last night. Good times.

Upon returning home, all I wanted to do was catch a glimpse of Opening Day Eve, our first taste of real, actual baseball in 2007 that counts in the standings. But no beisbol could be found on ESPN, which meant no HD: They were showing the Mets/Cardinals NLCS re-match on ESPN2. What balls on these people, even on the women that work there. I think I speak cleverly when I say, "What the Deuce?"

Opening Night Baseball doesn't take precendence over a barnburning Rutgers/LSU game that ended 59-35? I mean, I can understand downgrading Opening Day Eve to Deuce Status if the Worldwide Leader wanted to show LSU's old head coach munching player box on national television, but relegating it for any old women's semifinal? Where's G.O.B. Bluth when you need'm? C'mon! That is seriously wrong and ridiculous. I almost feel like I'm owed an apology.

Well, last night's shenanigans aside, the real Opening Day comes at us fast and furious today. We're about 75 minutes away from what I consider to be the real New Year's Day, and I almost wish this were 2002 again. That year I got laid off from my job at 9 am on Opening Day and I spent the entire afternoon and evening watching five games on ESPN, one on YES and one on whatever channel the Mets were on at the time. Talk about the best day of your life, getting laid off was the greatest thing that contributed to my baseball-related sloth.

Three things are guaranteed to get the crowd crowin' around here: religion, politics and baseball. It used to be just those first two that you never talk about in a bar, but if you check out some of the Slack posts surrounding the sport, you'll find comments coming out every which way. So in order to get the blood boiling today, here are my predictions for the upcoming season -- I'd like to see what youse have as well, so weigh in below with a comment or two:

AL East: Los Yankees (2. Blue Jays, 3. Sawx)
AL Central: Tigers (2. Injuns, 3. ChiSox)
AL West: Angels (2. Rangers, 3. A's)
Wild Card: Blue Jays (2. Sawx, 3. Injuns)

NL East: Braves (2. Mets, 3. Phils)
NL Central: Brewers (2. Cards, 3. Cubs)
NL West: Diamondbacks (2. Dodgers, 3. Giants)
Wild Card: Mets (2. Cards, 3. Phils)

AL Cy Young: Johan Santana (2. Pettitte, 3. Halladay)
AL MVP: Travis Hafner (2. Vlad, 3. Abreu)
AL Rookie: Alex Gordon (T2. Delmon Young, Dice-K)

NL Cy Young: 'Los Zambrano (2. Webb, 3. Oswalt)
NL MVP: Jose Reyes (2. Pujols, 3. Rickie Weeks)
NL Rookie: Troy Tulowitzki (2. Chris Young, 3. Pelfrey)

NLCS: Braves over Mets in 6
ALCS: Yankees over Tigers in 7
World Series: Yankees over Braves in 5

I really shoulda had the balls to pick the Texas Rangers to win the Series, considering Buck Showalter left them last year (and we all know what happens the year after he leaves a team), but I couldn't look at that pitching staff and say, "Yeah, they'll win it for sure." If I were a Rangers fan, Millwood and Padilla as my one-two starters would make me want to puke and shit at the same time. Sorry.

What say you, beisbol fans? Let's hear it...

Slack Link of the Day: Vermont secession? It could happen.

Slack Headline of the Day: Does it get any better than this Smoking Gun story? "The Hair Club for Men recently hired a private detective to videotape ex-clients as they entered a rival follicle replacement business staffed by two of its former workers." Not bloody likely.

Slack Video of the Day: It's a big week for Ace sports, with Opening Day followed by two days of mid-week Champions League football. Only eight teams remain in the hunt for the European club championship, and my Liverpool squad looks to be in great shape and top form. The Reds even pounded rival Arsenal this weekend, drubbing the Gooners 4-1 on the strength of a Beanpole Peter Crouch hat trick. That's quite a lengthy trick.

The halogen lamp of a striker netted three fucking beautiful goals with three different parts of his lanky body, and he validated my belief that he belongs with the Reds and the English squad next year. Here's the Gangly Handful's first goal, his second goal, and finally, let's take a look at the completion of his tall hat trick:

For more on Liverpool's Arse-raping of Arsenal, check out my trusted companions over at Oh You Beauty and The Red Cauldron.

As I noted on OYB this morning, I'm loving the play of the recently acquired Liverpool defender Alvaro Arbeloa. I says: "You know that scene in Waiting for Guffman when things are going so well for Dr. Pearl that he's now questioning whether he wasted time as a dentist instead of being an actor forever? Anyone else feeling that way about Arbeloa on the defensive line? He's impressed me so much that I'm wondering whether Liverpool could be in the title hunt had he been fit and on our squad the entire season. He's floored me in all of his big-time performances."

Slack Song of the Day: Since I'm rightly feelin' the Benevento/Russo Duo this morning, that's what we're gonna get -- here's Sunny's Song, Soba and Mephisto from 12/28/06.

And as it turns out, Mars is just as expensive as New York...craisins.