Construction of the Friday Random Ten+5 has been delayed by technical issues (and a plate full of writing assignments that turned out to be a lot fuller than I anticipated), but in the meantime, here's a funny for your Friday morning:
Now, here's the part where you stop laughing: That "Cami Secret" thing is a real product. Whose sole purpose appears to be hiding cleavage. And not in any kind of straightforward way, either, but in the cruelest manner possible: "Oh, look at my low-cut top! You like these? WELL, TOUGH LUCK, ASSHOLE, because look at this lacy pin-on bra dickey I'm about to put on." Seriously, that's the kind of thing Mormons would look at and go, "OK, now that is a weird undergarment."
Also available from this same company: the Countertop Coffee De-Caffeinator and the Air Ferry basketball shoe, which is specially weighted to keep you from jumping too high.
I weep for our future.
Showing posts with label stupidity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stupidity. Show all posts
Friday, August 27
Friday, July 30
The Friday Random Ten+5 advises you on what not to wear when you're not wearing anything.
Last night a discussion somehow got started on Twitter about what items of clothing are appropriate to wear when you're otherwise completely naked. OK, I'm the one who got that discussion started, but beyond that I have no further details. Anyway, I think we managed to get a pretty good list of ground rules laid down, and I present them to you as this week's +5: Five Things It's Unacceptable To Wear As The Only Thing You've Got On.
dark socks
This is the article of clothing that started it all: There's just nothing sexy about dark socks, in any context, on either gender. Not that they're not fashion-appropriate, mind you -- you wouldn't wear white socks with a dark suit, after all. But the dark socks are worn simply out of necessity. There's still nothing remotely alluring about them. Think about it this way: If a hot chick walks into your room completely naked, that's awesome. If she walks into your room naked except for black socks, though, that's weird, perhaps even a little sad. If you're interested enough in some major-league sexing to take off all your clothes, really, why not take 10 extra seconds to ditch the socks? You're that worried about your feet getting cold?
belts
As belts have grown wider and wider in recent years, some models and wannabe celebrities have attempted to push the envelope by wearing belts in lieu of skirts or even tops. Here's the thing, though: If I see you with nothing but a belt around your waist, my first thought is that you forgot to put pants on. And if you can't remember to execute a task that simple, I can't give you points for accessorizing. On the other hand, since it technically doesn't violate the "No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service" rule, you could probably still get into a 7-Eleven.
football pads
Just because you like two things doesn't mean they'll necessarily go well together. For example: I love Dreamland ribs. I also love the Bentley Continental GT. Eating Dreamland ribs in a Bentley Continental GT, however -- particularly whilst traveling near the Bentley's top speed of 197 miles per hour -- strikes me as a terrible idea. Same thing with scantily clad chicks and football uniforms. Apparently the Lingerie Football League wants me to think that a girl in her underwear is just as sexy when you throw pads and eyeblack on her, but I respectfully disagree; really, she just looks like she decided at the last minute to go to a Halloween party dressed as one of the characters from Mad Max but had to half-ass it. If you want a girl to look sexy at a football game, put her in a cheerleading uniform and leave her on the sideline; if you want her to actually play -- and I saw a segment about the LFL on "CBS Sunday Morning" of all places, and yeah, some of those girls can ball -- give her a respectable uniform and let her do her thing.
helmets
Like football pads, helmets are just too bulky to be useful for any kind of bedroom play. And while it might sound like a fun, crazy idea to ride, say, a motorcycle wearing nothing but the helmet, that seems like a great way to set a new Guinness world record for skin grafts. (Notable exception to the helmet rule, per Spencer: Viking helmets are acceptable when it's Valkyrie Night. I concur.)
knit winter caps
Obviously, you have to be very careful about wearing hats while naked. Wear the wrong one -- and honestly, most of them are wrong -- and you just end up looking like a fool. Winter caps or "toboggans" are probably the worst: I know you supposedly lose the vast majority of your body heat through the top of your head, but really, if it's cold enough out that you feel the need to throw on a winter cap, you probably ought to be clothing yourself in other ways. And I can't think of any sexual role-playing in which a winter cap would have to play an integral role, unless you really got turned on by sledding down hills on garbage-can lids as a kid. (If this is along the lines of what you're into, you're better off buying a shapka and playing James Bond vs. Sexy Russian Spy.)
Next week: five things you can wear when you're naked except for that. Until then, though, the Ten:
1. The Jesus & Mary Chain, "Far Gone and Out"
2. Thievery Corporation, "The Richest Man in Babylon" (Groove Corporation remix)
3. Fatboy Slim and Earth, Wind & Fire, "September/The Joker"
4. The Beach Boys, "God Only Knows"
5. Miles Davis, "Jeru"
6. Underworld, "Skym"
7. Underworld, "Jumbo"
8. Astrud Gilberto, "Who Needs Forever?" (Thievery Corporation remix)
9. Moby, "Southside"
10. The Fugees, "The Beast"
Your Random Tens, as well as any personal recommendations on nude accessorizing, are invited in the comments.
dark socks
This is the article of clothing that started it all: There's just nothing sexy about dark socks, in any context, on either gender. Not that they're not fashion-appropriate, mind you -- you wouldn't wear white socks with a dark suit, after all. But the dark socks are worn simply out of necessity. There's still nothing remotely alluring about them. Think about it this way: If a hot chick walks into your room completely naked, that's awesome. If she walks into your room naked except for black socks, though, that's weird, perhaps even a little sad. If you're interested enough in some major-league sexing to take off all your clothes, really, why not take 10 extra seconds to ditch the socks? You're that worried about your feet getting cold?
belts
As belts have grown wider and wider in recent years, some models and wannabe celebrities have attempted to push the envelope by wearing belts in lieu of skirts or even tops. Here's the thing, though: If I see you with nothing but a belt around your waist, my first thought is that you forgot to put pants on. And if you can't remember to execute a task that simple, I can't give you points for accessorizing. On the other hand, since it technically doesn't violate the "No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service" rule, you could probably still get into a 7-Eleven.
football pads
Just because you like two things doesn't mean they'll necessarily go well together. For example: I love Dreamland ribs. I also love the Bentley Continental GT. Eating Dreamland ribs in a Bentley Continental GT, however -- particularly whilst traveling near the Bentley's top speed of 197 miles per hour -- strikes me as a terrible idea. Same thing with scantily clad chicks and football uniforms. Apparently the Lingerie Football League wants me to think that a girl in her underwear is just as sexy when you throw pads and eyeblack on her, but I respectfully disagree; really, she just looks like she decided at the last minute to go to a Halloween party dressed as one of the characters from Mad Max but had to half-ass it. If you want a girl to look sexy at a football game, put her in a cheerleading uniform and leave her on the sideline; if you want her to actually play -- and I saw a segment about the LFL on "CBS Sunday Morning" of all places, and yeah, some of those girls can ball -- give her a respectable uniform and let her do her thing.
helmets
Like football pads, helmets are just too bulky to be useful for any kind of bedroom play. And while it might sound like a fun, crazy idea to ride, say, a motorcycle wearing nothing but the helmet, that seems like a great way to set a new Guinness world record for skin grafts. (Notable exception to the helmet rule, per Spencer: Viking helmets are acceptable when it's Valkyrie Night. I concur.)
knit winter caps
Obviously, you have to be very careful about wearing hats while naked. Wear the wrong one -- and honestly, most of them are wrong -- and you just end up looking like a fool. Winter caps or "toboggans" are probably the worst: I know you supposedly lose the vast majority of your body heat through the top of your head, but really, if it's cold enough out that you feel the need to throw on a winter cap, you probably ought to be clothing yourself in other ways. And I can't think of any sexual role-playing in which a winter cap would have to play an integral role, unless you really got turned on by sledding down hills on garbage-can lids as a kid. (If this is along the lines of what you're into, you're better off buying a shapka and playing James Bond vs. Sexy Russian Spy.)
Next week: five things you can wear when you're naked except for that. Until then, though, the Ten:
1. The Jesus & Mary Chain, "Far Gone and Out"
2. Thievery Corporation, "The Richest Man in Babylon" (Groove Corporation remix)
3. Fatboy Slim and Earth, Wind & Fire, "September/The Joker"
4. The Beach Boys, "God Only Knows"
5. Miles Davis, "Jeru"
6. Underworld, "Skym"
7. Underworld, "Jumbo"
8. Astrud Gilberto, "Who Needs Forever?" (Thievery Corporation remix)
9. Moby, "Southside"
10. The Fugees, "The Beast"
Your Random Tens, as well as any personal recommendations on nude accessorizing, are invited in the comments.
Thursday, June 17
I wish Joe Barton (R-TX) was my dad.
OK, maybe not my dad. My dad's not so bad. But maybe my granddad, because seriously, I bet Joe Barton's kids live like fricking kings.
I didn't do a lot of egregiously bad isht when I was a kid, but I did get in a heap of trouble when I was 18 for throwing a party while my parents were out of town, after having been explicitly instructed not to. The party was a real rager -- 50-something people, underage drinking, smoking, people running around naked in the backyard, a true suburban Columbus classic -- but it wasn't the party itself my parents were mad about. Hell, I cleaned up so well afterward that they didn't even find out about it until nearly a week after they'd gotten back. What they were mad about was that I'd lied about it, and lying being about the worst thing you could do in my family, they brought the hammer down on me: Lost the use of my car for the rest of the school year, grounded anytime I came home from UGA, probably forfeited my monthly allowance somewhere along the line. About the most severe punishment I got for anything I did as a teenager, now that I think about it.
If Joe Barton had been my granddad, though, he would've bitched my parents out and apologized on their behalf for being so mean to me.
Your eyes/ears do not deceive you -- Barton apologized to BP for mean nasty Obama making them pay for the damage they'd inflicted upon the Gulf coast. And while he claimed to be speaking only for himself and not the Republican Party, he wasn't the only one: The Republican Study Committee -- a caucus that comprises nearly two-thirds of the GOP's current House membership -- echoed Barton's sentiment that BP being instructed to set up a $20-billion escrow account to pay spill-related claims amounted to a "Chicago-style shakedown." All of the usual talk-radio suspects -- Limbaugh, Hannity, Oliver North -- are using suspiciously identical "slush fund" rhetoric to criticize the account. Tea Party hero Rand Paul, of course, said it was "un-American" for Obama to criticize BP at all.
Look, everyone has the right to criticize Obama (or any other president) to their hearts' content, but how craven do you have to be to plant your nose in BP's anus so that you can trash-talk him? Are they so confident in their ability to retake Congress this fall that they figure they can afford to throw a pity party for the most despised corporation in the country? Or as one of the few entities in America whose approval ratings are almost as low as BP's, is this their idea of "climbing down into the crevasse"?
I have no idea. All I know is, the next time I get stopped for speeding, I hope I've got Joe Barton in the car with me to wring an apology out of the cop for pulling me over.
(Yeah, the political stuff's back too, dorks. Drink it in.)
I didn't do a lot of egregiously bad isht when I was a kid, but I did get in a heap of trouble when I was 18 for throwing a party while my parents were out of town, after having been explicitly instructed not to. The party was a real rager -- 50-something people, underage drinking, smoking, people running around naked in the backyard, a true suburban Columbus classic -- but it wasn't the party itself my parents were mad about. Hell, I cleaned up so well afterward that they didn't even find out about it until nearly a week after they'd gotten back. What they were mad about was that I'd lied about it, and lying being about the worst thing you could do in my family, they brought the hammer down on me: Lost the use of my car for the rest of the school year, grounded anytime I came home from UGA, probably forfeited my monthly allowance somewhere along the line. About the most severe punishment I got for anything I did as a teenager, now that I think about it.
If Joe Barton had been my granddad, though, he would've bitched my parents out and apologized on their behalf for being so mean to me.
Your eyes/ears do not deceive you -- Barton apologized to BP for mean nasty Obama making them pay for the damage they'd inflicted upon the Gulf coast. And while he claimed to be speaking only for himself and not the Republican Party, he wasn't the only one: The Republican Study Committee -- a caucus that comprises nearly two-thirds of the GOP's current House membership -- echoed Barton's sentiment that BP being instructed to set up a $20-billion escrow account to pay spill-related claims amounted to a "Chicago-style shakedown." All of the usual talk-radio suspects -- Limbaugh, Hannity, Oliver North -- are using suspiciously identical "slush fund" rhetoric to criticize the account. Tea Party hero Rand Paul, of course, said it was "un-American" for Obama to criticize BP at all.
Look, everyone has the right to criticize Obama (or any other president) to their hearts' content, but how craven do you have to be to plant your nose in BP's anus so that you can trash-talk him? Are they so confident in their ability to retake Congress this fall that they figure they can afford to throw a pity party for the most despised corporation in the country? Or as one of the few entities in America whose approval ratings are almost as low as BP's, is this their idea of "climbing down into the crevasse"?
I have no idea. All I know is, the next time I get stopped for speeding, I hope I've got Joe Barton in the car with me to wring an apology out of the cop for pulling me over.
(Yeah, the political stuff's back too, dorks. Drink it in.)
Friday, January 8
The Friday Random Ten+5 crosses its fingers and hopes for the best in 2010.
After a protracted holiday-induced absence, the Friday Random Ten+5 is back to say . . . man, 2009 really sucked. I mean, I'm not going to say everything that happened last year was bad, but any year in which I lose my job, get sued, have three back surgeries, have to move back in with my parents, the Dawgs lose five games, and the Redskins go 4-12 is not one I'm likely to look back upon fondly. The year had its isolated bright spots, but on the whole, 2010 almost has to be better by default.
I'm optimistic about this new year, and I'm full of hopes for various things -- obviously including finding a job, getting a new car, the Dawgs hiring a kick-ass defensive coordinator and running roughshod over the rest of the SEC East, that sort of thing -- but I've also got some assorted aspirations and hopes that fall outside those usual sorts of things. These are things that I believe can benefit not just me but all of society, and in the first +5 of 2010, I'm sharing them with you -- Five Things I Hope Happen In The New Year.
The "Arrested Development" movie finally coming to fruition
First we were told it was happening. Then we were told nothing was actually happening yet. Then we were told that it's happening, and it has a screenwriter, he just hasn't actually written anything yet. C'mon, guys, make this movie so it can be hilarious and a runaway success and get the TV series re-started on a network that actually appreciates it. Like, what about an NBC Thursday-night lineup including "The Office," "Arrested Development," and "30 Rock"? That's a lineup so awesome it might actually turn Jay Leno at 10:00 funny. Well, OK, that might be setting the bar a bit too high, but we can always hope.
Slovakia making the final four of the World Cup
My esteemed countrymen from the glorious sovereign nation of Slovakia have made the cut of 32 for the World Cup this summer, and few things would make me happier than to see them make it into the semifinals. Or into the semifinals (against the USA, of course). If that can't happen, then I want the Slovak hockey team to win the gold medal in the Winter Olympics.
Lego coming out with a James Bond series
They already have Star Wars figures who carry guns of some type, not to mention the "Agents" series, in which many of the minifigs are armed as well. Why not go all the way and introduce a James Bond series to tie in with the next Bond film, due to start filming later this year? They could make the tricked-out Aston Martin from "Goldfinger," the bad guy's secret under-lake satellite base from "Goldeneye," the two airplanes from the shootout in "Quantum of Solace," the possibilities are endless. (Just leave "Die Another Day" out of it. That one sucked.)
Joe Lieberman being eaten by something
Wolves, bears, giant irradiated scorpions, zombie Ted Kennedy, I'm really not partial. I just want his sanctimonious ass off my TV.
A huge nationwide backlash against the Twilight franchise
Baby sis has already expounded upon why the Twilight book series is not only appallingly poorly written but also in danger of making our young girls believe some horrible, horrible things about men and relationships, and done it better than I could, so I'll stay away from the literary criticism. All I will say is that pre-teen girls are by and large the dumbest demographic in the entire human race -- it's almost like they start devolving around age 10 and don't catch back up with where they're suppposed to be until 17 or 18 -- so anything pre-teen girls like that much almost has to be idiotic by default. And while I have no doubt that the Twilight fad will burn itself out in due time (if nothing else can kill the franchise, the inevitably godawful adaptation of the final book in the series will), I'm praying that our nation comes to its meager senses before then. It just makes me sad, going into a theatre to see a good movie and having to wade through a line of teenage girls and middle-aged housewives about to live vicariously through this idiotic romance as an escape from their own shitty relationships. New rule: If you're an adult male married to a woman who would go see "Twilight" un-ironically under any circumstances, you are entitled to as many extramarital affairs as it takes to blot out that fact, however fleetingly. I really hope that if there are intelligent civilizations in other solar systems, they wait until after this fad has burned itself out to come visit us, because I don't want them thinking Stephanie Meyer was somehow the pinnacle of culture in our civilization or anything.
Those are mine . . . and Holly has one to add: "For Tim Tebow to tank at the combine, fall to 26th or wherever in the first round of the draft so that the Cowboys pick him up, he has a terrible first half of the season and announces after only eight weeks that he's retiring from football, and thus the Cowboys have lost their first-round pick and Tebow's a pussy."
Wow. That's pretty specific . . . specific and hilarious.
Anyway, here's the Ten:
1. Hard-Fi, "Hard to Beat" (Axwell mix)
2. Pet Shop Boys, "I Wouldn't Normally Do This Kind of Thing" (Voxigen mix)
3. Busta Rhymes, "So Hardcore"
4. 3rd Bass, "Triple Stage Darkness"
5. The Who, "A Quick One While He's Away"
6. The Dust Brothers, "This Is Your Life"
7. Patton Oswalt, "'80s Metal"
8. A Tribe Called Quest, "Start It Up"
9. LL Cool J, "Mama Said Knock You Out"
10. Roni Size and Reprazent, "Brown Paper Bag" (Photek remix)
Feel free to place your own Random Tens and/or wishes for the new year -- be they hopeful, magnanimous, vindictive, filthy, or some combination of any of those -- in the comments.
I'm optimistic about this new year, and I'm full of hopes for various things -- obviously including finding a job, getting a new car, the Dawgs hiring a kick-ass defensive coordinator and running roughshod over the rest of the SEC East, that sort of thing -- but I've also got some assorted aspirations and hopes that fall outside those usual sorts of things. These are things that I believe can benefit not just me but all of society, and in the first +5 of 2010, I'm sharing them with you -- Five Things I Hope Happen In The New Year.
The "Arrested Development" movie finally coming to fruition
First we were told it was happening. Then we were told nothing was actually happening yet. Then we were told that it's happening, and it has a screenwriter, he just hasn't actually written anything yet. C'mon, guys, make this movie so it can be hilarious and a runaway success and get the TV series re-started on a network that actually appreciates it. Like, what about an NBC Thursday-night lineup including "The Office," "Arrested Development," and "30 Rock"? That's a lineup so awesome it might actually turn Jay Leno at 10:00 funny. Well, OK, that might be setting the bar a bit too high, but we can always hope.
Slovakia making the final four of the World Cup
My esteemed countrymen from the glorious sovereign nation of Slovakia have made the cut of 32 for the World Cup this summer, and few things would make me happier than to see them make it into the semifinals. Or into the semifinals (against the USA, of course). If that can't happen, then I want the Slovak hockey team to win the gold medal in the Winter Olympics.
Lego coming out with a James Bond series
They already have Star Wars figures who carry guns of some type, not to mention the "Agents" series, in which many of the minifigs are armed as well. Why not go all the way and introduce a James Bond series to tie in with the next Bond film, due to start filming later this year? They could make the tricked-out Aston Martin from "Goldfinger," the bad guy's secret under-lake satellite base from "Goldeneye," the two airplanes from the shootout in "Quantum of Solace," the possibilities are endless. (Just leave "Die Another Day" out of it. That one sucked.)
Joe Lieberman being eaten by something
Wolves, bears, giant irradiated scorpions, zombie Ted Kennedy, I'm really not partial. I just want his sanctimonious ass off my TV.
A huge nationwide backlash against the Twilight franchise
Baby sis has already expounded upon why the Twilight book series is not only appallingly poorly written but also in danger of making our young girls believe some horrible, horrible things about men and relationships, and done it better than I could, so I'll stay away from the literary criticism. All I will say is that pre-teen girls are by and large the dumbest demographic in the entire human race -- it's almost like they start devolving around age 10 and don't catch back up with where they're suppposed to be until 17 or 18 -- so anything pre-teen girls like that much almost has to be idiotic by default. And while I have no doubt that the Twilight fad will burn itself out in due time (if nothing else can kill the franchise, the inevitably godawful adaptation of the final book in the series will), I'm praying that our nation comes to its meager senses before then. It just makes me sad, going into a theatre to see a good movie and having to wade through a line of teenage girls and middle-aged housewives about to live vicariously through this idiotic romance as an escape from their own shitty relationships. New rule: If you're an adult male married to a woman who would go see "Twilight" un-ironically under any circumstances, you are entitled to as many extramarital affairs as it takes to blot out that fact, however fleetingly. I really hope that if there are intelligent civilizations in other solar systems, they wait until after this fad has burned itself out to come visit us, because I don't want them thinking Stephanie Meyer was somehow the pinnacle of culture in our civilization or anything.
Those are mine . . . and Holly has one to add: "For Tim Tebow to tank at the combine, fall to 26th or wherever in the first round of the draft so that the Cowboys pick him up, he has a terrible first half of the season and announces after only eight weeks that he's retiring from football, and thus the Cowboys have lost their first-round pick and Tebow's a pussy."
Wow. That's pretty specific . . . specific and hilarious.
Anyway, here's the Ten:
1. Hard-Fi, "Hard to Beat" (Axwell mix)
2. Pet Shop Boys, "I Wouldn't Normally Do This Kind of Thing" (Voxigen mix)
3. Busta Rhymes, "So Hardcore"
4. 3rd Bass, "Triple Stage Darkness"
5. The Who, "A Quick One While He's Away"
6. The Dust Brothers, "This Is Your Life"
7. Patton Oswalt, "'80s Metal"
8. A Tribe Called Quest, "Start It Up"
9. LL Cool J, "Mama Said Knock You Out"
10. Roni Size and Reprazent, "Brown Paper Bag" (Photek remix)
Feel free to place your own Random Tens and/or wishes for the new year -- be they hopeful, magnanimous, vindictive, filthy, or some combination of any of those -- in the comments.
Saturday, December 5
We regret the error, boyyyyeeeeeee!
Oh, Washington Post, you may have turned into a sclerotic, neocon-infested dung-heap shadow of your former self, but at least you have the good manners to be entertaining.
Friday, December 4
A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:Admonishing Tiger, demolishing "Twilight," and wrapping up the week in hotness.
· I know it's been talked about endlessly over the past week, but I think it bears repeating: The above individual is what Tiger Woods cheated on. Tiger Woods looked at her, thought to himself, "You know, I'm Tiger Woods and that's not good enough for me, I should get to bang other ridiculously hot women besides her." So what I'm saying is that after Elin finishes working her dear hubby over with a nine-iron, every guy in America who's ever had to beg for nookie from even an average-looking chick should get in line behind her to give Tiger a boot to the nuts themselves, because . . . well, that's just being greedy in addition to being adulterous. To say nothing of stupid. Tiger, here's hoping she rips you for every last Escalade-crashin' dollar you have.
Maybe next time he should consult this.
· Apparently the Twilight book series goes off in directions even more fakakta than I could've ever imagined. A Twilight book so godawful that they don't even think they can film it? God deliver us. Seriously, if you're a woman under the age of 30 who's read any of those books as anything other than a goof or a dare from one of your friends, please e-mail me so that I can give you some suggestions as to actual works of literature you might un-rot your brain with. And if you're a human being over the age of 30 who's gone to see any of the movies in an un-ironic context, please kill yourself now. You're only going to mess up humanity's chances for survival when the "2012" apocalypse comes.
· All right, it was bad enough when the asinine Salahi couple attention-whored their way into a White House dinner to which they weren't actually invited. But lying about being a Washington Redskins cheerleader? Now you're messing with the integrity of one of the greatest cheerleading squads in the history of professional sport, ma'am, and that just isn't gonna sit with me. (Seriously, if you want to be an NFL cheerleader that bad, go be one of the Dallas Cowboys cage dancers.)
White House Party Crasher Lady, whatever the hell your name is, trust me, you can't roll with this.
· A season of unrelentingly awful handicapping at EDSBS comes to a merciful end with my final picks column of the regular season, which involved me bending the laws of time and space just so that I could punt the responsibility of picking games onto someone else -- in this case, my 2002 self, fresh-faced and (hopefully) clear-headed enough to not make any worse a hash of the job than I already have.
· You may be surprised to know that I didn't actually watch any of the Victoria's Secret fashion show on CBS the other night. Seriously, if I want to see scantily clad women, why would I settle for viewing them through the PG-rated filter of a major TV network's censorbots? I did come across this, though:
I'm as outraged by that clip as anything I've seen on the Internet. Listen, I'm all for free speech and everything, but there is no reason that the words "too tall" or "boobs too big" should ever be uttered, either to this poor girl or anyone else. Shame on you, People In Charge Of Model Selection. This will not stand!
· One last video, also from Warming Glow, concerning a TV show that looks way too awesome to ever see the light of day in the U.S. -- and indeed, it's actually being produced for BBC4. Herewith, "The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Todd Margaret" (put those headphones on, especially if you're at work, because the audio is highly NSFW):
Let me get this straight: I and millions of other people have been clamoring for the return of "Arrested Development" in some kind of form -- revival of the series, feature film, Internet shorts, anything -- ever since that show was cruelly killed off before its time a few years ago. So now they put Will Arnett and David Cross in a show together -- woohoo! -- and I can only watch it if I'm in Great Britain?
Not cool, TV gods. Y'all still owe me for the series finale of "Seinfeld" and the mere existence of "The Hills," and you're gonna pull this crap? I'm calling shenanigans. Shenanigans!
Wednesday, November 4
To the victors go the spoils . . . and the losers get grounded.
Not ever having played football may preclude me from being able to criticize the decisions made by coaches or players on the field, but I was an editor-in-chief of The Red & Black when I was at UGA, so I think I'm more than qualified to say: This column by online editor Marc McAfee is one of the most presumptuous, self-satisfied, and just plain poorly argued columns I've ever read.
So because Mark is too ashamed to go out after a Georgia loss, the players should be too? Is that what I'm supposed to get from all this?
Georgia's football players (and DI-A football players in general) may have chosen "not to live the life of an average student," but I don't think they ever signed a piece of paper saying that their right to eat out or have girlfriends was contingent upon them winning football games. I'll be the first person to admit that SEC football players are not exactly like you or me, but isn't this kind of an arbitrarily applied standard? If I told Marc McAfee that he wouldn't be allowed to date or have a meal at a restaurant if he got a C on a term paper or missed a typo in a headline in the R&B's online edition, do you think he'd go for that?
The worst part of the whole thing is the way McAfee makes dramatic, sweeping assumptions about the character (or lack of same) of our entire roster -- based on having seen half the football team in Flanagan's on a certain Saturday night. No, scratch that: Having "heard from several people" that they were in Flanagan's on a certain Saturday night. Yeah, that's a terrific basis for writing off our entire team as a bunch of irresponsible slackers.
Toward the end of the column, McAfee says that Richt needs to "re-evaluate his recruiting." Guess what, Marc: If your attitude takes hold, he won't need to. No decent high-school player in his right mind would come to a school where he'd have his after-hours activities restricted based on the uninformed judgments of holier-than-thou newspaper columnists. We can wave bye-bye to all the good players as they head off to Florida and Tennessee, and then we can take the leftovers who don't mind being forced to live like the Amish when they have the temerity to lose to someone.
At that point we can probably knock the program down to Division III, and then maybe we can start new rivalries with Sewanee and Birmingham-Southern. Football Saturdays will be quite a bit less exciting then, I grant you. But dammit, at least those football players will know their place.
First, a little background: I take a lot of ribbing from my friends because I have a policy of refusing to go downtown after a Georgia loss.
I'm sorry, I just don't see any reason to celebrate when we get rolled by the Tide or chomped by the Gators. (Obviously I haven't been going out too much this season.) But then recently, I realized I looked pretty stupid for staying home and moping after a loss. Why?
Because I heard from several people that half the football team was in Flanagan's or Farenheit on Saturday night. And while I was angrily going to sleep, those players were apparently out spitting game as if they'd stomped the Gators instead of getting romped by them. Yeah, I know it probably wasn't the whole team, but there were some big names in those bars.
So because Mark is too ashamed to go out after a Georgia loss, the players should be too? Is that what I'm supposed to get from all this?
I know they're college students too. I know they deserve to have fun like I do. But I haven't been endowed with the responsibility that comes with signing those papers that make me a part of this storied program in need of an update. Those players chose not to live the life of an average student, and they need to start acting like it.
Georgia's football players (and DI-A football players in general) may have chosen "not to live the life of an average student," but I don't think they ever signed a piece of paper saying that their right to eat out or have girlfriends was contingent upon them winning football games. I'll be the first person to admit that SEC football players are not exactly like you or me, but isn't this kind of an arbitrarily applied standard? If I told Marc McAfee that he wouldn't be allowed to date or have a meal at a restaurant if he got a C on a term paper or missed a typo in a headline in the R&B's online edition, do you think he'd go for that?
The worst part of the whole thing is the way McAfee makes dramatic, sweeping assumptions about the character (or lack of same) of our entire roster -- based on having seen half the football team in Flanagan's on a certain Saturday night. No, scratch that: Having "heard from several people" that they were in Flanagan's on a certain Saturday night. Yeah, that's a terrific basis for writing off our entire team as a bunch of irresponsible slackers.
Toward the end of the column, McAfee says that Richt needs to "re-evaluate his recruiting." Guess what, Marc: If your attitude takes hold, he won't need to. No decent high-school player in his right mind would come to a school where he'd have his after-hours activities restricted based on the uninformed judgments of holier-than-thou newspaper columnists. We can wave bye-bye to all the good players as they head off to Florida and Tennessee, and then we can take the leftovers who don't mind being forced to live like the Amish when they have the temerity to lose to someone.
At that point we can probably knock the program down to Division III, and then maybe we can start new rivalries with Sewanee and Birmingham-Southern. Football Saturdays will be quite a bit less exciting then, I grant you. But dammit, at least those football players will know their place.
Tuesday, August 11
A special memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.: How to tell if ideas are good or bad.
Realized about halfway through that I was stealing this from EDSBS, but whatever.
Good idea: this video, or anything making fun of the "G.I. Joe" movie.
Bad idea: Wearing this T-shirt whilst having a mugshot taken.
GREAT idea: maximizing time-for-money value by bringing a U-Haul to a Hooters car wash.
TERRIBLE idea: griending your boss on Facebook, then posting a message calling him/her a "total pervvy wanker."
Good idea: this video, or anything making fun of the "G.I. Joe" movie.
Bad idea: Wearing this T-shirt whilst having a mugshot taken.
GREAT idea: maximizing time-for-money value by bringing a U-Haul to a Hooters car wash.
TERRIBLE idea: griending your boss on Facebook, then posting a message calling him/her a "total pervvy wanker."
Sunday, August 2
Monday Morning Cage Match VIII:
Hipster doofus vs. Wall Street doofus.
This year marks the 30th anniversary of the film Kramer vs. Kramer, which swept the big four Academy Awards -- Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, and Best Actress -- in addition to the Best Adapted Screenplay honor; only "The Silence of the Lambs" has matched that achievement since. Why bother telling you all this? Well, I figured that after 30 years it was time for a rematch, and the Monday Morning Cage Match is the perfect place to host it. So here's Round Two of Kramer vs. Cramer:
FINAL SCORE: Cosmo Kramer 4, Jim Cramer 4. So apparently they are equally reputable. We're not sure which one should take that as the bigger insult.
 [Cosmo] Kramer |  [Jim] Cramer | |
| Day job | Variously an actor, writer, bagel maker, and owner of "Kramerica Industries" | Stock speculator |
| WINNER: Kramer | ||
| Side hustle | One of Murphy Brown's famously short-lived secretaries | One of Donald Trump's boardroom lackeys on "The Apprentice" |
| WINNER: Cramer | ||
| Bibliography | Coffee-table book about coffee tables | Jim Cramer's Stay Mad for Life: Get Rich, Stay Rich (Make Your Kids Even Richer); Jim Cramer's Mad Money: Watch TV, Get Rich; Jim Cramer's Real Money: Sane Investing in an Insane World; Confessions of a Street Addict; You Got Screwed! Why Wall Street Tanked and How You Can Prosper |
| WINNER: Tie (quantity vs. quality, like) | ||
| Greatest achievement | Playing a nude game of backgammon in the Cayman Islands with Elle MacPherson | Staying employed at CNBC after having gotten his lunch eaten by Jon Stewart on multiple occasions |
| WINNER: Kramer | ||
| Method to his madness? | Yes, even though we're not sure what it is | Increasingly doubtful |
| WINNER: Kramer | ||
| Statement they probably wish they could take back | "Throw his ass out! He's a n****r! He's a n****r! He's a n****r!" | "No! No! No! Bear Stearns is not in trouble. If anything, they're more likely to be taken over. Don't move your money from Bear." |
| WINNER: Cramer | ||
| Currently working? | Not that we've noticed | Yes |
| WINNER: Cramer | ||
FINAL SCORE: Cosmo Kramer 4, Jim Cramer 4. So apparently they are equally reputable. We're not sure which one should take that as the bigger insult.
Saturday, July 18
A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:
Things to do in Denver when you're unemployed.
Doing nothing, and it's everything I thought it could be.
Recently downsized but don't feel like actually looking for another job yet? Me neither, working sucks. Here's some shit to distract you instead:
· First of all, I'm gonna have to go ahead and pimp some of my own work, should any paying blogs, Web sites, or sports journals be looking for writers: Here's my less-than-rosy take on George O'Leary's job security for Dr. Saturday (prithee excuse the character formatting, we're working on it), and here's MY EXCLUSIVE ALL-ACCESS INSIDE LOOK at Lane Kiffin and the Tennessee football program for EDSBS! Why did Kiffykins give such broad access to his deepest, most top-secret planning to a Georgia interloper like myself? He probably fucked up and forgot to check that I was a Bulldog fan, but like everything else, he'll say it was all part of his master plan.
· It has come to my attention that some people found this past week's Monday Morning Cage Match unfairly biased in favor of Lexus and against Texas. One or two people hinted that had a category along the lines of "End zones" been included, the Lone Star State would've cleaned up. OK, I'm an open-minded guy, let's compare rear ends:
Lexus SC430 . . .
. . . and Texas Longhorns.
OK, yeah, you know what, y'all were right and I was wrong. Game over, Texas wins. My decision is final.
· And now that I've pimped my own work, it's time to pimp some other people's: Platinum-level Friend of Holly (and therefore friend of Hey Jenny Slater) Livia drops Pat Buchanan with a knee to the balls and keeps on kicking, while over at Practically Harmless, Sister of Hey Jenny Slater does the same to the Twilight book series here and here.
What else do we know about Bella? We know that she's clumsy. Sooo clumsy. Clummy-clum-clumsy. You can hear "Yakety Sax" faintly in the background throughout the book. She falls down in the woods. She trips over her own feet at the beach. She trips over her own feet in class. She drops her books. She thwacks her classmates in the head with a volleyball. She thwacks herself in the head with a badminton racquet. She gets paper cuts. At one point, Meyer specifically describes her eating a bowl of cereal, "chewing each bite with care," as if a Lucky Charms-Mama Cass moment is an ever-looming threat. And in case you weren't able to pick up on it yourself, Bella is kind enough to tell you herself.I'm absolutely ordinary - well, except for bad things like all the near-death experiences and being so clumsy that I'm almost disabled.
Oh, are you clumsy? I totes hadn't noticed.
· Back to Pat Buchanan for a moment, sort of: As blatant a bigot as Pat Buchanan is, he is completely, utterly sane compared to Glenn Beck, who did everything except audibly shit his pants when a caller somehow managed to get past what I'm sure was NORAD-tight call screening to disagree with him on health care:
Now, here's my question: You're a radio host. You're crazier than a Greyhound bus full of methed-up ferrets, but be that as it may, you've somehow developed a sincerely devoted following despite yourself. Who says "GET OFF MY PHONE"?!?!? You're the host, Miss DuBois, fuckin' drop the call if it's that upsetting to you! Why throw a literal howling hissy fit and make yourself look like even more of a twit than you already have? I refuse to believe that anyone, even his most ardent fans, are actually laboring under the delusion that Glenn Beck is sane at this point; I think his fans are actually hoping he's crazy enough to jump the White House fence with an Uzi in hand or something like that. Actually, in Beck's case it'd probably be more along the lines of a Super Soaker filled with ReaLemon, because that's just the kind of thing he'd come up with, but whatever.
· In other news of wingnuttery, some folks are apparently so determined to take Obama down that they're making up stories about Obama getting booed during the first pitch at the All-Star game last week. Hey, if that's all it takes to make something true, then I would like to announce here and now on this blog that Erin Andrews didn't spurn my advances in Tempe the weekend of last season's UGA-ASU game, she in fact came back to the house our group had rented and we polished off a '98 Dom in the hot tub. Salud, motherfuckers!
Oh, yeah, I got her number. It's OK, I know you want to touch me.
· Remember the Friday Random Ten+5 a couple months back in which the Mi-24/25/35 series attack helicopter received an induction into the Badass Hall of Fame? The "Hind" originally earned its badass reputation by laying waste to the Afghan resistance in the early 1980s, to the point that only a rapid influx of American-sourced surface-to-air missiles (as highly entertainingly dramatized in "Charlie Wilson's War") succeeded in turning the tide. Well, now that the Afghan military's forces are in the process of being rebuilt by coalition forces so that they can stand on their own two feet and defend themselves from the Taliban, the Afghan National Army Air Corps is being supplied with -- what else? -- Mi-35s. The irony here is so delicious and satisfying that I'm now substituting it for one meal each day.
The hunted become the hunters, or something like that.
· I would like to go on record as saying that Al Franken will one day go down in history as one of the better U.S. senators we've ever had. Unlike "Stuart Saves His Family," this statement is not intended as a joke.
· Finally, courtesy of Twitter pal and equally rabid Bulldog partisan Ally, here's the first solid, specific recommendation anyone's given me so far as to what I should be doing with myself while I'm unemployed. Soon as my folks leave their house for any length of time, I'm building something along the lines of this:
Rooftop Waterslide
· Actually, maybe this is what I need to be doing with myself:
Of course, pimping, as Big Daddy Kane warned us, isn't easy, and I should probably save this kind of work for when I really buckle down and get serious about holding down a regular job.
Friday, July 10
IN A WORLD where apparently anybody can come up with a movie idea, the Friday Random Ten+5 is going to tell some toy stories.
When last the Friday Random Ten+5 reared its ugly head, we came to the sad but necessary conclusion that the second "Transformers" movie just wasn't all that good. Not quite bad enough to ruin my fond memories of playing with the toys as a grade-schooler, but we're not out of the woods yet: Brace yourselves, Dudes In Your Late Twenties To Mid-Thirties, if you played with G.I. Joes as kids, there's a G.I. Joe movie coming out this summer that may just be bad enough for you to disavow any knowledge of that franchise's existence. And at least "Transformers" and "G.I. Joe" have reasonably engaging source material; apparently there's a whole slew of movies in development right now that will rape even the most mundane of our childhood memories. You may have heard, for example, that there's a Monopoly movie coming out that's going to be directed by fricking Ridley Scott. But what you may not have heard is that McG, fresh off of steering the "Terminator" franchise straight into the ground, is in talks to make a Hot Wheels movie. And it gets worse: Apparently someone at DreamWorks is angling to buy the rights to a View-Master movie. Lemme stop you right there, DreamWorks: If the magical View-Master in this prospective film isn't showing a special story disk titled "Erin Andrews and the Thong Bikini of Destiny," you're probably not getting my $9.25.
But there's a silver lining to all this cinematic dumbfuckery, and it's kind of along the lines of the epiphany Patton Oswalt had toward the end of his "Death Bed" bit: Apparently any talentless douchebag can just pick a childhood toy at random and turn it into a major movie project these days. With that in mind, I think it's finally time for me to do something with my nascent screenwriting career, and I've got plenty of ideas. And you're getting an exclusive preview, you lucky fucks: This week's +5 is Five Toy Lines I Could Probably Turn Into Movies. Feel the excitement!
The Game of Life
If you think about it, there's a real opportunity for some heavy-duty black comedy here. Maybe you've got Philip Seymour Hoffman and Michael C. Hall as friends who build an increasingly intense rivalry as teenagers, and they make a vow to turn the rest of their lives into a competition where they try to amass as much money as possible and the person with the most money at the end wins. From there it's a non-stop battle to come out of college with a good job, have as many children as possible, and fall ass-backward into the right money-making opportunities until they can finally face each other as old men at Millionaire Acres and attempt to crush each other's lifetime hopes and dreams once and for all. As all this is unfolding, of course, they go progressively crazier and crazier until they both end up as nutty as Daniel Day-Lewis at the end of "There Will Be Blood" and they're both completely broken and miserable. (I didn't say it was going to be an uplifting movie.)
Lego Agents
I got some of these a few days ago (yeah, I did, what of it?), and they're actually pretty badass -- the little mini-figures have computers and pistols and rocket launchers and everything. Since they've already made extremely well-reviewed video-game franchises out of the Lego Star Wars and Lego Indiana Jones series, I'll bet somebody can squeeze a movie out of this. It couldn't possibly be any worse than "Kingdom of the Crystal Skull."
(Audio NSFW)
Power Wheels
I'm thinking this movie takes place at the point in our dystopian near-future at which we finally run out of our last drop of oil, and adults have to resort to relying on their kids' Power Wheels for transportation. Then someone discovers a revolutionary energy source and the shadowy intelligence organizations from all the world's major powers become locked in a deadly battle to obtain it, which would be the perfect excuse for some "Ronin"/"Bourne Supremacy"-style car chases through the cities of the world, recreated entirely with Power Wheels vehicles.
Galaga
This video game looks absurdly simple compared to what kids are playing these days, but I have yet to be able to resist one of these machines in a bar, arcade, bowling alley, or any other locale. Could a feature film be as addictive? I mean, you've got the first act, where our protagonist is blowing up alien spacecraft; the second-act complication, in which his ship is CAPTURED and he has to make his way back to base; and the thrilling third act, in which he has to blow up the alien tractor-beam ship without blowing up his own ship so that he can get it back and blast away at the aliens with twice as much firepower. That's at least 80 minutes' worth of screen time right there.
Rock Band
Actually, I just want Trey Parker and Matt Stone to turn the "Guitar Queer-O" episode of "South Park" into a full-length feature film, because that episode was on the other night and I was reminded of how fucking brilliant it is. All it needed was a Yoko to turn Stan against Kyle and break up "the band."
Producers, my e-mail address is on the right at the top of this page; don't everyone bum-rush my inbox at once. In the meantime, here's the Ten:
1. Flight of the Conchords, "Foux Du Fafa"
2. Pet Shop Boys, "Flamboyant" (Scissor Sisters Silhouettes & Shadows mix)
3. Orbital, "The Girl with the Sun in Her Head"
4. Pet Shop Boys, "I Don't Know What You Want but I Can't Give It Any More"
5. Passengers, "United Colours"
6. Weird Al Yankovic, "Another One Rides the Bus"
7. Underworld, "Shake It Higher"
8. Underworld, "Lenny Penne"
9. Johnny Cash, "Joe Bean"
10. The Streets, "Stay Positive"
Back to you, folks. Your Random Tens and terrible ideas for cash-in toy-based movies in the comments, please.
But there's a silver lining to all this cinematic dumbfuckery, and it's kind of along the lines of the epiphany Patton Oswalt had toward the end of his "Death Bed" bit: Apparently any talentless douchebag can just pick a childhood toy at random and turn it into a major movie project these days. With that in mind, I think it's finally time for me to do something with my nascent screenwriting career, and I've got plenty of ideas. And you're getting an exclusive preview, you lucky fucks: This week's +5 is Five Toy Lines I Could Probably Turn Into Movies. Feel the excitement!
The Game of Life
If you think about it, there's a real opportunity for some heavy-duty black comedy here. Maybe you've got Philip Seymour Hoffman and Michael C. Hall as friends who build an increasingly intense rivalry as teenagers, and they make a vow to turn the rest of their lives into a competition where they try to amass as much money as possible and the person with the most money at the end wins. From there it's a non-stop battle to come out of college with a good job, have as many children as possible, and fall ass-backward into the right money-making opportunities until they can finally face each other as old men at Millionaire Acres and attempt to crush each other's lifetime hopes and dreams once and for all. As all this is unfolding, of course, they go progressively crazier and crazier until they both end up as nutty as Daniel Day-Lewis at the end of "There Will Be Blood" and they're both completely broken and miserable. (I didn't say it was going to be an uplifting movie.)
Lego Agents
I got some of these a few days ago (yeah, I did, what of it?), and they're actually pretty badass -- the little mini-figures have computers and pistols and rocket launchers and everything. Since they've already made extremely well-reviewed video-game franchises out of the Lego Star Wars and Lego Indiana Jones series, I'll bet somebody can squeeze a movie out of this. It couldn't possibly be any worse than "Kingdom of the Crystal Skull."
(Audio NSFW)
Power Wheels
I'm thinking this movie takes place at the point in our dystopian near-future at which we finally run out of our last drop of oil, and adults have to resort to relying on their kids' Power Wheels for transportation. Then someone discovers a revolutionary energy source and the shadowy intelligence organizations from all the world's major powers become locked in a deadly battle to obtain it, which would be the perfect excuse for some "Ronin"/"Bourne Supremacy"-style car chases through the cities of the world, recreated entirely with Power Wheels vehicles.
Galaga
This video game looks absurdly simple compared to what kids are playing these days, but I have yet to be able to resist one of these machines in a bar, arcade, bowling alley, or any other locale. Could a feature film be as addictive? I mean, you've got the first act, where our protagonist is blowing up alien spacecraft; the second-act complication, in which his ship is CAPTURED and he has to make his way back to base; and the thrilling third act, in which he has to blow up the alien tractor-beam ship without blowing up his own ship so that he can get it back and blast away at the aliens with twice as much firepower. That's at least 80 minutes' worth of screen time right there.
Rock Band
Actually, I just want Trey Parker and Matt Stone to turn the "Guitar Queer-O" episode of "South Park" into a full-length feature film, because that episode was on the other night and I was reminded of how fucking brilliant it is. All it needed was a Yoko to turn Stan against Kyle and break up "the band."
Producers, my e-mail address is on the right at the top of this page; don't everyone bum-rush my inbox at once. In the meantime, here's the Ten:
1. Flight of the Conchords, "Foux Du Fafa"
2. Pet Shop Boys, "Flamboyant" (Scissor Sisters Silhouettes & Shadows mix)
3. Orbital, "The Girl with the Sun in Her Head"
4. Pet Shop Boys, "I Don't Know What You Want but I Can't Give It Any More"
5. Passengers, "United Colours"
6. Weird Al Yankovic, "Another One Rides the Bus"
7. Underworld, "Shake It Higher"
8. Underworld, "Lenny Penne"
9. Johnny Cash, "Joe Bean"
10. The Streets, "Stay Positive"
Back to you, folks. Your Random Tens and terrible ideas for cash-in toy-based movies in the comments, please.
Wednesday, July 8
The Saga of Sarah.
I guess I don't have much to add to the continuing astonishment over Sarah Palin's decision to say "no mas" and vacate the Alaska governor's mansion except for this: I'm disappointed. I was seriously hoping that the Republican Party, in its current state, would continue to hold up Palin as their Great Oh-So-Very-White Hope for the next three years, just long enough to nominate her to go up against Obama in the 2012 presidential election, at which point she would flame out and put the GOP right back at square one in terms of rebuilding their national stature. God, what a fun ride that would've been. I was fully prepared to go deep cover and volunteer for Palin's 2012 Alabama primary campaign if it looked like that scenario might come to pass.
But it's not going to. My knee-jerk reaction to Palin's announcement the day before Independence Day, like a lot of people's, was that she was unloading her gubernatorial responsibilities so that she could devote herself full-time to the business of laying the groundwork for a balls-out 2012 presidential run. With her brand name beginning to take on some tarnish from Todd Purdum's unflattering Vanity Fair profile and the resulting infighting with McCain's people, she was going to metaphorically stomp off to her room in a huff, sulk for a few months until enough people in the Republican base came groveling to stroke her hair and tell her how pretty and awesome she was, and then burst forth in February 2011 (or earlier) with a recharged ego and a refreshed arsenal of lame down-home witticisms, determined to yank the reins away from President Hussein and reclaim America for the real Americans.
But if she really wanted to do that, why not just wait a few months and announce she wasn't going to be running for another term as governor? Why quit in the middle of her first term? If one of the big knocks on you as a vice-presidential candidate is that you have minimal political experience, why throw away the opportunity to gain any additional experience if you don't have to?
"Sarah Palin isn't smart in what we might call conventional ways," writes TBogg in a short but highly incisive post from earlier this week, "but she has grifter smarts" -- or, as Holly characterized it, "middle-school, mean-girl, locker-room smarts" -- and that elementary cunning was enough to lead her to a conclusion many of us arrived at months ago: There's no way she's ever going to get elected president. Her favorability ratings began tanking within a couple weeks of her acceptance speech on the floor of the Republican National Convention last September, and while dyed-in-the-wool religious conservatives thought she was the greatest thing since sliced bread (and still do), independents quickly decided they wanted nothing to do with her (and still don't). Reports say even her fellow Alaska Republicans had started to turn on her, to the point where she might not even have been able to win a primary challenge in a potential re-election bid -- and when you can't even hold together a Republican coalition in one of the reddest states in the country (Democrats haven't broken 40 percent in a presidential election in Alaska, much less won outright, since the 1960s), your prospects for building anything resembling an effective base of support nationally are in deep ka-ka.
So why'd she do it? Let's go back to TBogg:
. . . [Palin] knows that she can make a better living working the wingnut welfare circuit preaching to the already converted than she can in politics.
He also quotes Jill from Brilliant at Breakfast:
If she were about helping other working mothers and parents of special-needs children and health care for all and a stable job base, she could have been a credible contender for first female president. But alas, she is only an aging beauty queen, a Mean Grrrl who in politics has found a way to extend her reign as Prettiest Girl in High School to use people (or states) and then throw them away when they stop feeding her massive ego . . .
That description stops just short of summing up what I think is a central truth about Sarah Palin, a truth that clues us in to both why she quit her gubernatorial term in midstream and why she'll never be president. For all the talk about all the things that made Palin such a refreshing novelty on the national political scene over the past year or so -- her gender, her good looks, her unusual family, the exotic locale from whence she sprang -- she's not actually unique at all: She is George W. Bush, only female and cute. Like Bush, her most substantial political experience was a governorship of modest responsibilities, and whatever renown she'd acquired was primarily for superficial reasons (good looks = Bush's famous family name). Without much of an actual track record or stated policy slate to speak of, the neocon wing of the Republican Party decided on her as a blank slate upon which they could project their hopes and ideals, an assignment that she, like Dubya, tackled with gusto. But through it all she's expressed the same intellectual incuriosity that Dubya demonstrated throughout the entirety of his presidential term -- they both know what they feel about this issue or that issue, their minds are made up, and they're not interested in acquiring any additional information about it, especially not anything that would challenge the worldviews and prejudices they'd already spent so many years setting in stone.
Seriously, does a woman who can't come up with an answer better than "all of 'em" when asked a question as simple as "what newspapers and magazines did you regularly read" sound like she gives a flying fuck about becoming knowledgeable on the major issues of the day? Does she sound like someone interested in doing anything other than what Bush did as president -- i.e. bringing in "advisors" who will tell him/her exactly what he/she wants to hear and nothing more? Palin's legions of right-wing fans may not demand any more than that from her, because her willingness to "go with her gut" in the absence of any debate or time-consuming deliberation is one of the things they most admire in her, just as they admired it in Bush before her. But the rest of us, as evidenced by the 2008 election outcome, have come to our senses, and have started demanding a little more from the person who holds the most powerful title in the free world.
Evidently, even people in Alaska are starting to demand that as well, and that, as much as anything, is why she resigned so abruptly: The job got too hard, too many people didn't like her, she wasn't having fun anymore. So she quit, just like she quit a series of colleges and a position as head of the Alaska Oil and Gas Conservation Commission. She's going to lay low for a while, then write a book (or have one ghost-written for her) and probably get a talk show on Fox News, re-establish her position as the spokesperson for the great not-so-silent not-quite-majority of aggrieved Tea-Party-throwing, Obama-hating ultraconservatives without actually having to get elected to anything, and thereby become the only thing she ever really wanted to be all along: a celebrity.
Is that an overly harsh assessment? Probably, but as hard as I try, I just can't find one shred of evidence that Palin has any stomach for the difficult and sometimes spirit-sapping work of actual policy-making, consensus-building, or governing. Leave out the sob stories about catty Vanity Fair articles or tasteless jokes late-night talk-show hosts have made about her kids; in the end, that stuff's got very little to do with actual politics. It's got more to do with the travails of simply being a celebrity, and while Sarah Palin may look like she's selflessly falling on her sword and giving up the limelight for the good of her family or her state or whoever, she'll be back. Only as a pricey lecture-circuit choir-preacher or Fox talking head, of course, not as someone poised to make any direct, tangible difference in what goes on in Washington.
But that just kind of makes the Saga of Sarah -- to the extent that there is one -- only that much more pointless and wasted in the end. You will have Sarah Palin to kick around anymore, sooner or later, but only if it's on her terms, and in a capacity where she doesn't actually have to put anything on the line. She'll say stupid things on big stages, people who should know better will give her more air time than she deserves, but in the end history won't remember her as anything even resembling a transformative figure; the Saga of Sarah won't end up being remembered as anything more than a year in its political life that America won't ever get back.
Wednesday, July 1
This week in extramarital booty.
A week after the initial revelation from South Carolina Gov. Mark Sanford that he'd been carrying on an extramarital affair with a woman in Argentina, the best tidbits are now coming out. Read this story and this one, and then let's go over the highlights:
· "As recently as this month," Sanford "begged his wife to let him go visit his Argentine hottie." When I first heard about that, I thought, man, the balls on that guy! But the more I think about it, the more I'm thinking maybe Sanford's actually a wuss: You think Sarkozy or Berlusconi ever gave a fuck about asking for permission?
· The debate between "ballsy" and "wussy" might be purely academic, though: Since Sanford asked his wife for permission -- implying that he did care a little about her feelings on the subject -- but went anyway even after she said no, I'm going to settle on "asshole" for the time being.
· In a cabinet meeting last week in which Sanford apologized to his staff, he compared himself to King David, who had an affair with a married woman, Bathsheba, yet managed to maintain control of his kingdom. Presumably this means that Sanford will be ordering the death of his mistress's husband and then marrying her himself.
· Sanford confessed that he "crossed the lines" with several other women over the years but hadn't had sex with any of them. That still leaves a lot of wiggle room, though, and can include everything from "making out" to "third base" to "naked baby-oil Twister with a group of Singapore Airlines flight attendants." Not that I, uh, spend a lot of time thinking about stuff like that.
· Sanford is convinced that the woman from Argentina is his "soul mate," but he adds that he's "trying to fall back in love with his wife." So basically he's telling his wife, "Honey, this woman from Buenos Aires is my soul mate, but I'm TRYING to fall in love with you again." Wow, what woman wouldn't be made weak in the knees by an expression of romance like that? Not that you asked me, governor, but here's a tip: You "try" to lose a few pounds or get more organized at home. If you have to try to fall in love with someone, it ain't happening.
At this point, I have two pieces of advice for Gov. Sanford. First, shut the fuck up already. Your ratio of "words uttered in public" to "times looked stupid and/or like an asshole" is rapidly approaching 1:1. Second, bite the fucking bullet and get divorce proceedings started. It's obvious you don't particularly want to be married to your wife, she can't possibly want to be married to you all that much, and whatever benefit you think you'd be doing for your kids by staying together has probably already been negated by their knowing that you blew them off on Father's Day to go chase some South American strange.
But that's just one guy's opinion. At the end of the day, all I can really say is what a weird, weird dude. And kind of a tortured, conflicted one at that. But I will say this for him: I'm glad he's there, because compared to him even I look smooth with the ladies.
Then again, I've never managed to carry on a torrid affair with a woman from Argentina, either. Hey, anybody know what Yamila Diaz is doing these days?
· "As recently as this month," Sanford "begged his wife to let him go visit his Argentine hottie." When I first heard about that, I thought, man, the balls on that guy! But the more I think about it, the more I'm thinking maybe Sanford's actually a wuss: You think Sarkozy or Berlusconi ever gave a fuck about asking for permission?
· The debate between "ballsy" and "wussy" might be purely academic, though: Since Sanford asked his wife for permission -- implying that he did care a little about her feelings on the subject -- but went anyway even after she said no, I'm going to settle on "asshole" for the time being.
· In a cabinet meeting last week in which Sanford apologized to his staff, he compared himself to King David, who had an affair with a married woman, Bathsheba, yet managed to maintain control of his kingdom. Presumably this means that Sanford will be ordering the death of his mistress's husband and then marrying her himself.
· Sanford confessed that he "crossed the lines" with several other women over the years but hadn't had sex with any of them. That still leaves a lot of wiggle room, though, and can include everything from "making out" to "third base" to "naked baby-oil Twister with a group of Singapore Airlines flight attendants." Not that I, uh, spend a lot of time thinking about stuff like that.
· Sanford is convinced that the woman from Argentina is his "soul mate," but he adds that he's "trying to fall back in love with his wife." So basically he's telling his wife, "Honey, this woman from Buenos Aires is my soul mate, but I'm TRYING to fall in love with you again." Wow, what woman wouldn't be made weak in the knees by an expression of romance like that? Not that you asked me, governor, but here's a tip: You "try" to lose a few pounds or get more organized at home. If you have to try to fall in love with someone, it ain't happening.
At this point, I have two pieces of advice for Gov. Sanford. First, shut the fuck up already. Your ratio of "words uttered in public" to "times looked stupid and/or like an asshole" is rapidly approaching 1:1. Second, bite the fucking bullet and get divorce proceedings started. It's obvious you don't particularly want to be married to your wife, she can't possibly want to be married to you all that much, and whatever benefit you think you'd be doing for your kids by staying together has probably already been negated by their knowing that you blew them off on Father's Day to go chase some South American strange.
But that's just one guy's opinion. At the end of the day, all I can really say is what a weird, weird dude. And kind of a tortured, conflicted one at that. But I will say this for him: I'm glad he's there, because compared to him even I look smooth with the ladies.
Then again, I've never managed to carry on a torrid affair with a woman from Argentina, either. Hey, anybody know what Yamila Diaz is doing these days?
Thursday, June 18
A memo from the desk of Arnold T. Pants, Esq.:
Torturing Sims, executing flies, but still crying on the inside.
· As an addendum to the inaugural Monday Morning Cage Match post from earlier this week, an additional look at Jay-Z's "99 Problems," in visual form.
· My sister and I both got seriously addicted to the original "The Sims" back around the summer of 2002 or so, and we have, for the most part, maintained a respectful distance from the game ever since lest we both start rolling into work at 11 every morning going, "Hey, man, I am so sorry, but I've been trying to save up for an addition to my Sim's house and he's this close to getting a promotion at his job." Anyway, baby sis e-mailed me this link yesterday, and instead of wasting work time playing "The Sims," I found myself wasting work time reading about "The Sims," and by "reading" I mean "trying not to piss my pants due to sheer giggle-stifling effort." Behold, a mere sample:
You simply have to read the whole thing; it's breathtaking. And yeah, now I'm probably going to go out and get "Sims 3."
· Among the many films that Flickchart has reminded me how much I like is Bill Murray's 1990 film "Quick Change," and I'm thrilled that The Onion's A.V. Club ran this article about it. Few people do cynical, world-weary gallows humor better than Murray, and while his movie and Spike Lee's "Inside Man" tread a lot of the same New-York-as-festering-cesspool-of-disillusion-and-resentment territory, "Quick Change" was the one I had lots more fun watching. (I also had a good time watching this.
· I can honestly say I have never been less interested in anything that was ever going to be published in Playboy, and that includes the time they did a nude pictorial of that chick from "Melrose Place" when she was like eight months pregnant.
· THIS IS HOW SKYNET GOT STARTED, you assholes.
· And finally: PETA, shut the fuck up and stick to what you're actually good at, which is taking pictures of naked supermodels.
· My sister and I both got seriously addicted to the original "The Sims" back around the summer of 2002 or so, and we have, for the most part, maintained a respectful distance from the game ever since lest we both start rolling into work at 11 every morning going, "Hey, man, I am so sorry, but I've been trying to save up for an addition to my Sim's house and he's this close to getting a promotion at his job." Anyway, baby sis e-mailed me this link yesterday, and instead of wasting work time playing "The Sims," I found myself wasting work time reading about "The Sims," and by "reading" I mean "trying not to piss my pants due to sheer giggle-stifling effort." Behold, a mere sample:
Pinned to one spot, she refused to interact with Beef or me, almost as if the game forgot she was there. But Beef still knew. He refused to use the bathroom from the moment she arrived. He howled a picture of a toilet at her over and over, and she responded by staring through him until his bladder detonated where he stood.
Just to fuck with us, she showed she could move the whole time, and turned her back to give Beef privacy while he mopped up his shame. I’ll have to watch out for this woman . . . she’s pushing his fragile mind in directions I don’t have protocols for. Speaking of, since the government took the child away, I began removing toys from the home while Beef sleeps. I want him to think that maybe the kid was never there to begin with, which seems like an inadequate mind game now that ghosts are forcing him to pee on himself.
You simply have to read the whole thing; it's breathtaking. And yeah, now I'm probably going to go out and get "Sims 3."
· Among the many films that Flickchart has reminded me how much I like is Bill Murray's 1990 film "Quick Change," and I'm thrilled that The Onion's A.V. Club ran this article about it. Few people do cynical, world-weary gallows humor better than Murray, and while his movie and Spike Lee's "Inside Man" tread a lot of the same New-York-as-festering-cesspool-of-disillusion-and-resentment territory, "Quick Change" was the one I had lots more fun watching. (I also had a good time watching this.
· I can honestly say I have never been less interested in anything that was ever going to be published in Playboy, and that includes the time they did a nude pictorial of that chick from "Melrose Place" when she was like eight months pregnant.
· THIS IS HOW SKYNET GOT STARTED, you assholes.
· And finally: PETA, shut the fuck up and stick to what you're actually good at, which is taking pictures of naked supermodels.
Tuesday, June 16
Shut it down.
We're done, people. It's over. We had a good run, but after 233 mostly inspiring years, American culture, exceptionalism, and society are over. And it didn't happen because of Barack Obama, it didn't happen because of the Iraq War, it didn't even happen because of the Hummer H2 -- it happened because of this.
I know I've made fun of the Snuggie before, but compared to this little invention, the Snuggie is movable type; it is the fucking internal-combustion engine. That's right, America -- when the sarcastic question is posed "What, you need someone to help wipe your ass for you?", our answer is now apparently "Yes." We have become so lazy and disconnected that the act of wiping now requires a middleman. Coming soon, the Comfort Pee! Because nobody should have to endure something as icky and undignified as holding one's own penis while trying to urinate!
That's my favorite part of the ad, by the way, the part where the older lady talks about maintaining one's "dignity." Yes, because if there's one concept I associate with an ass-wiping wand, it's dignity.
So anyway, last person out of the country, turn out the lights. And please, please, let's all promise never to tell David Cross about this.
I know I've made fun of the Snuggie before, but compared to this little invention, the Snuggie is movable type; it is the fucking internal-combustion engine. That's right, America -- when the sarcastic question is posed "What, you need someone to help wipe your ass for you?", our answer is now apparently "Yes." We have become so lazy and disconnected that the act of wiping now requires a middleman. Coming soon, the Comfort Pee! Because nobody should have to endure something as icky and undignified as holding one's own penis while trying to urinate!
That's my favorite part of the ad, by the way, the part where the older lady talks about maintaining one's "dignity." Yes, because if there's one concept I associate with an ass-wiping wand, it's dignity.
So anyway, last person out of the country, turn out the lights. And please, please, let's all promise never to tell David Cross about this.
Friday, June 12
The Friday Random Ten+5 would prefer that your bloodline end here.
Whatever else I try to accomplish here at Hey Jenny Slater, I try to be intensely focused on customer service. And you may not know this, but I take requests, as long as it's not an unbelievably stupid idea. An example of a non-stupid idea: Bestest friend Kristen, honorary HJS Exalted Hero of the Revolution, e-mailed me from Denver a couple weeks ago to call my attention to this article concerning the first five Coloradans who should be given the new male birth-control pill. Plus-five idea? You're damn straight, buddy.
I have to confess I'm a little mystified about how the male pill works -- does it prevent you from ejaculating? Or maybe it administers a tiny dose of THC to each of your sperm cells, meaning that all of your sperm are too tired to make it to the fallopian tubes and are too busy going "Dude, have you ever looked at a uterus? I mean, really looked at a uterus?" besides. But I'll leave that to doctors and other science people to figure out. All I can do is come up with the list of Five Guys Who Should Be Given The Male Birth-Control Pill Before Anyone Else, and here it is:
James "Jim Bob" Duggar
The Duggar name may not automatically ring a bell, but trust me, you've heard of him: He's the former Arkansas state legislator who evidently had it revealed to him in a dream that his wife's sole purpose on earth was to serve as a walking, sentient fetus factory. A quarter-century later, they've got 18 kids and have shown no inclination to cease spawning anytime soon. Somehow this has to be stopped -- if not for the sake of our overburdened planet, then for the sake of poor Michelle Duggar's uterus, which has to be held together with bulldog clips and duct tape by now.
Leonardo DiCaprio
Those of you who are heavily involved in fantasy football are probably familiar with the concept of a "Can't Cut" list, which basically sets aside the really elite players in the league, your Peyton Mannings and your LaDainian Tomlinsons and so on, and says no team can just summarily drop them from the roster because to drop a player that awesome would have to involve some kind of shenanigans. Why do I bring this up? Well, Bar Refaeli, international supermodel and confirmed HJS birthday buddy, would seem like an obvious candidate to go on the worldwide "Can't Cut" list of potential sexual partners -- and yet Leonardo DiCaprio gave her the heave-ho earlier this week. What the fuck? Leo, dude, you were awesome in "The Departed," but be that is at may, you're kind of a fucking ingrate, and if that's the best judgment you're capable of exhibiting then perhaps you're not someone who should be fathering children. Plus the more offspring wandering around out there with DiCaprio's DNA, the harder it's going to be for my sons to get tail 25 or 30 years from now.
Glenn Beck
Tough call between Beck and Sean Hannity here. Both are so dumb they'd lose a battle of wits to a Speak & Spell, and both seem to think volume and hyperbole is a reasonable substitute for actual facts or grasp of current events. But Hannity is merely an annoying asshole, like those tiny little dogs who think they're Great Danes and spend every waking hour barking and trying to nip at your ankles; Beck is full-on, raving, black-helicopter, shithouse-rats-won't-even-talk-to-him crazy. Not only that, but Hannity appears to have stopped at two kids; Beck has popped out four, and at the age of 45 he's got plenty more child-bearing years in him, provided Eli Lilly and Company manages to ride out the recession in good financial health. I've got a sinking feeling Beck is poised to fashion at least one more little Beckling whose head he can stuff with loon-ball Obama-is-Hitler propaganda, and we owe it to future generations to head that off before it happens.
Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer
"Date Movie." "Epic Movie." "Meet the Spartans." "Disaster Movie." These two asslicks should be denied the right to breed based on that résumé alone. But you just know that these guys are the kind of self-satisfied, douchey, aggravating, laugh-at-their-own-jokes dumb-jock types who were roundly despised even by their own fraternity brothers, and given fertile, unsuspecting young women to plant on their casting couch, they'll bring up their kids to be the exact same kind of people. Sorry, guys, can't allow that to happen. The rest of society can regurgitate pop-culture tidbits just fine on its own.
Tony Romo
Remember what a gigantic, inescapable f%$#ing deal it was when Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner had their first kid? Or when Gwyneth Paltrow and that dude from Coldplay whose name I'm too lazy to look up had theirs? We didn't -- couldn't -- stop hearing about it for weeks. And if Tony Romo and Jessica Simpson succeed in popping out an offspring, it's going to be every bit as bad. And that's just the start: If they have a boy, that kid's almost certain to start playing football at some point, which means that in 18 years we'll no doubt be subjected to a recruiting battle more exhaustingly annoying than Jimmy Clausen, Bryce Brown, and Nick Montana put together. (On the other hand, if they have a girl, then there's your 2028 Miss Teen South Carolina right there.)
And now the Ten:
1. Underworld, "Unruly July"
2. Dave Attell, "Gambling"
3. David Holmes, "Don't Die Just Yet"
4. The Breeders, "No Aloha"
5. Busta Rhymes, "Things We Be Doin' For Money Part 1"
6. Sir Mix-A-Lot, "Baby Got Back"
7. The Buzzcocks, "Why Can't I Touch It?"
8. Public Enemy, "Caught, Can We Get a Witness?"
9. Johnny Cash, "A Boy Named Sue"
10. The Who, "Who Are You"
Your turn: Your own Random Tens and/or nominees for the first round of male birth control go in the comments, please.
I have to confess I'm a little mystified about how the male pill works -- does it prevent you from ejaculating? Or maybe it administers a tiny dose of THC to each of your sperm cells, meaning that all of your sperm are too tired to make it to the fallopian tubes and are too busy going "Dude, have you ever looked at a uterus? I mean, really looked at a uterus?" besides. But I'll leave that to doctors and other science people to figure out. All I can do is come up with the list of Five Guys Who Should Be Given The Male Birth-Control Pill Before Anyone Else, and here it is:
James "Jim Bob" Duggar
The Duggar name may not automatically ring a bell, but trust me, you've heard of him: He's the former Arkansas state legislator who evidently had it revealed to him in a dream that his wife's sole purpose on earth was to serve as a walking, sentient fetus factory. A quarter-century later, they've got 18 kids and have shown no inclination to cease spawning anytime soon. Somehow this has to be stopped -- if not for the sake of our overburdened planet, then for the sake of poor Michelle Duggar's uterus, which has to be held together with bulldog clips and duct tape by now.
Leonardo DiCaprio
Those of you who are heavily involved in fantasy football are probably familiar with the concept of a "Can't Cut" list, which basically sets aside the really elite players in the league, your Peyton Mannings and your LaDainian Tomlinsons and so on, and says no team can just summarily drop them from the roster because to drop a player that awesome would have to involve some kind of shenanigans. Why do I bring this up? Well, Bar Refaeli, international supermodel and confirmed HJS birthday buddy, would seem like an obvious candidate to go on the worldwide "Can't Cut" list of potential sexual partners -- and yet Leonardo DiCaprio gave her the heave-ho earlier this week. What the fuck? Leo, dude, you were awesome in "The Departed," but be that is at may, you're kind of a fucking ingrate, and if that's the best judgment you're capable of exhibiting then perhaps you're not someone who should be fathering children. Plus the more offspring wandering around out there with DiCaprio's DNA, the harder it's going to be for my sons to get tail 25 or 30 years from now.
Glenn Beck
Tough call between Beck and Sean Hannity here. Both are so dumb they'd lose a battle of wits to a Speak & Spell, and both seem to think volume and hyperbole is a reasonable substitute for actual facts or grasp of current events. But Hannity is merely an annoying asshole, like those tiny little dogs who think they're Great Danes and spend every waking hour barking and trying to nip at your ankles; Beck is full-on, raving, black-helicopter, shithouse-rats-won't-even-talk-to-him crazy. Not only that, but Hannity appears to have stopped at two kids; Beck has popped out four, and at the age of 45 he's got plenty more child-bearing years in him, provided Eli Lilly and Company manages to ride out the recession in good financial health. I've got a sinking feeling Beck is poised to fashion at least one more little Beckling whose head he can stuff with loon-ball Obama-is-Hitler propaganda, and we owe it to future generations to head that off before it happens.
Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer
"Date Movie." "Epic Movie." "Meet the Spartans." "Disaster Movie." These two asslicks should be denied the right to breed based on that résumé alone. But you just know that these guys are the kind of self-satisfied, douchey, aggravating, laugh-at-their-own-jokes dumb-jock types who were roundly despised even by their own fraternity brothers, and given fertile, unsuspecting young women to plant on their casting couch, they'll bring up their kids to be the exact same kind of people. Sorry, guys, can't allow that to happen. The rest of society can regurgitate pop-culture tidbits just fine on its own.
Tony Romo
Remember what a gigantic, inescapable f%$#ing deal it was when Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner had their first kid? Or when Gwyneth Paltrow and that dude from Coldplay whose name I'm too lazy to look up had theirs? We didn't -- couldn't -- stop hearing about it for weeks. And if Tony Romo and Jessica Simpson succeed in popping out an offspring, it's going to be every bit as bad. And that's just the start: If they have a boy, that kid's almost certain to start playing football at some point, which means that in 18 years we'll no doubt be subjected to a recruiting battle more exhaustingly annoying than Jimmy Clausen, Bryce Brown, and Nick Montana put together. (On the other hand, if they have a girl, then there's your 2028 Miss Teen South Carolina right there.)
And now the Ten:
1. Underworld, "Unruly July"
2. Dave Attell, "Gambling"
3. David Holmes, "Don't Die Just Yet"
4. The Breeders, "No Aloha"
5. Busta Rhymes, "Things We Be Doin' For Money Part 1"
6. Sir Mix-A-Lot, "Baby Got Back"
7. The Buzzcocks, "Why Can't I Touch It?"
8. Public Enemy, "Caught, Can We Get a Witness?"
9. Johnny Cash, "A Boy Named Sue"
10. The Who, "Who Are You"
Your turn: Your own Random Tens and/or nominees for the first round of male birth control go in the comments, please.
Wednesday, June 3
Leprechauns! SWARM!
Clearly, I've underestimated you.
So yesterday the good Dr. Saturday posted the third installment in my ongoing "Better Know an Embattled Coach" series, this time about Notre Dame head man Charlie Weis. It was marked at the very top as part of a series, and just for good measure, links were included down at the bottom to the previous installments on Steve Kragthorpe and Al Groh.
That post went up at 3:01 p.m. Eastern. Twenty-six minutes later, the first comment pops up, and it is this:
Wow. I guess no other school ever had down years right? I guess when Alabama wasnt so good and lost 6 years in a row to Auburn that was okay right? How many articles have you written about Tennessee since they havent done anything in years? Did you write about LSU who didnt beat anyone last year with a pulse after going to the NC the year before and nearly losing to Troy at home? Or is it that you just know ND articles get attention and people reading them no matter what?
First, I wonder if "Justin D" and this guy are roommates? (Good job, Nostradamus, by the way.)
Second: Yes. In fact, that is precisely what I meant to imply: No school has ever had a down year except for Notre Dame. In 2007, when the Irish were busy going 3-9, every other team in the country somehow went 12-0 and finished in a 118-way tie for the BCS National Championship, and that is why Notre Dame sucks and you're ugly and everybody hates you.
Aw, I'm just kidding! Clearly, I owe you an apology, Justin D, and here it is.
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