Don't Call It A Comeback

Yeah it's been awhile... Let's cut out the pleasantries, I'm really busy with work so this is gonna be kinda like a drunken one night stand; we're gonna get right down to business and I'm gonna get you outta here before realize where I live to the point where you can find your way back here once you sober up.

It's the holiday season which to me means Christmas because I think Jesus is real like that. Couple of things about Christmas...

First of all Christmas carols... not a fan. I dunno if it's because I worked retail for like 138 years so I automatically associate the Little Drummer Boy with lines of impatient, pissed off rich people, or maybe I'm just a scrooge. Either way, I cannot stand them. Once I hear them my tolerance for the flaws of all other forms of life plummets, so I'm really hoping the bank I work for does not implement them in the in-office play. If they do, I might be in for another lay off because, not gonna lie, if I have to listen to someone threaten to pull out their $300, like I give a shit, if I don't waive a fee that they got through complete fault of themselves, WHILE listening to Silver Bells, I just might have an episode.

The other reason I think I'm against Christmas carols is because I can't really relate to them. I generally don't believe that music should be blissful and cheery. I'm more of the ilk that music should be a visceral, emotional experience which probably also explains why I'm not a huge fan of country music either. Granted, I don't know what it says about me as a person that I can relate more to Lil Wayne cooking crack in his kitchen than I can relate to the 8 pound 3 ounce baby Jesus away in a manger, but whattayagonnado?

Speaking of Jesus, as some of you know I have a pension for poker. I was watching the World Series of Poker main event from this year on ESPN, which is something I never do anymore, mostly because of things like this: Apparently the dude who won it all this year is some sort of born-again Jesus freak, which I really don't have a problem with. If you went through some bad shit in your life and then found God religion gave you the strength to overcome adversity, good for you. I come from the Malcolm X school of thought when it comes to making it through tragedy; by any means necessary. Here's the problem. I was watching this guy on TV and every time he was in a big hand, he would say things like "Please Jesus grant me the strength, oh thank you Jesus for allowing me to win..."

...

You're shitting me right?

Let me explain to you a little something about the do's and don't's of prayer. You do pray to God to help you make good decisions, deliver you from evil, allow you to be a morally strong individual, and pass an occasional midterm. You do not pray to God to win a poker game. Remember the Bible? Good. Okay now remember that part where Jesus went apeshit in the temple? God does not condone gambling. I'm not saying you shouldn't pray for assistance when you need it, I've done it before. All I'm saying is don't be surprised if this dude mysteriously gets cancer of the eyes sometime in the next year. Remember kids, God comes in two flavors: forgiving and merciful or angry and vengeful. Whether you get Mother Theresa or Harvey Keitel is up to you.

Second thing with Christmas is that they air these Jared Jewelers commercials non-fucking-stop where I live. Basically the gist of these things is, chick gets ring than brags to all her friends that, "He went to Jared," her friends swoon, guy looks great, all the other girls' boyfriends curse the name of dude who went to Jared for making them all look like chumps. Jared is a chain jewelry store here in the midwest... I repeat... JARED IS A CHAIN JEWELRY STORE. This means they sell trend diamond necklaces for $99.99 that they might as well hand you in a bag marked "Kingsford" He went to Jared, good for him, call me when he goes to Jakob. By the way, I could not find a Jared commercial on YouTube but I did find this fucking phenomenal parody... apparently I'm not the only person who thinks these commercials are inane:


That's pretty much it for now because honestly I'm a perfectionist and to format this thing up to my personal standards is pry gonna take me another two hours, but I'll try to come back soon.

Today's lesson: You can't get the Hope diamond at Wal-mart.

Some splaining to do... and "The List"

First of all, I want to apologize for the three week lay-off, but not completely. This may happen from time to time. Don't get me wrong, of the reasons I started this blog is because I love to write. At the same time I'm not going to sit here and make posts that I don't think are creative or entertaining just to fill space. Let's be honest, you guys probably don't give a shit about what goes on in my day to day life, (or maybe you do, who knows?) so I'm not going to bore you with "I went to work today, coffee was cold, it rained around lunch time, I stabbed a guy, blah blah blah)." I'm also not going to force myself to try to come up with stuff because, guess what, it's not gonna be THAT funny, (assuming the shit I put on here is even funny in the first place) and you are going to be disappointed and I'm going to feel like an jackass and a whore.

Okay now that we got that out of the way...

This may very well by my first recurring theme on this blog, so like any recurring theme it needs a title and I'm going to call it "The List" for the sake of not having an obscenity in the title of my recurring theme. Basically "The List" (catchy isn't it?) works like this. If someone is on "The List"(sick of it yet?) is basically means that if someone brings them up in conversation my first reaction is "Yeah, (insert name here)? Fuck that guy." It's really easy, let's start with an example.

Keith Olbermann.

If I wanted my news delivered to me by a self-righteous smarmy prick, I'd watch Fox news. He had a good thing going with the whole Sportscenter thing, mainly because Dan Patrick is the only person on the face of the Earth who can actually make him look like less of a condescending asshole. But no, you decided you wanted to do serious news so you kicked that gravy train in the ass. Keith now has a segment on Thursday/Sunday/DayAfterTomorrow night football on NBC called "The worst person in the NFL." So what does he do the first week? He immediately falls on his sword anoints himself as the worst person in the NFL for not being specific enough about how he feels about the Michael Vick debacle on the previous week's show.

Okay, I'm sorry man but either you get to recklessly pitch people under the bus from the window of your Ivory Tower... or you can be a pussy. What you don't get to do is have it both ways and somehow try to turn this horrible mistake of a segment into a noble act. Yeah, Keith Olbermann? Fuck that guy.

Okay now you obviously know how it works, and no I'm not going to end every one like that, it was just for the sake of example. Okay, next...

Kanye West.

Kanye has a new album coming out next week, which I will purchase because, let's be honest, that crazy bastard comes up with the catchiest beats I've ever heard. By the way, that whole thing about how he saves his best beats for his own CD? True Story. I'm gonna go ahead and postulate that this is one of the reasons Jay-Z had to retire, Congrats Hov, you've created a monster. Don't get me wrong, Kanye is a decent rapper but his beats are too good for him. Plus the guy is an asshole on multiple levels and I would much rather pay Jay-Z to listen to Kanye's beats than pay Kanye.

First of all the guy has a persecution complex so large that it will not fit in the back of his Benzo SUV. You're right Kanye, everyone is out to get you, that's why you're a fucking millionaire and the 35 year old mother of three who rang up my order yesterday works at Wal-mart.

Second of all he's just not stable. Who can forget the time after Katrina when he got all hopped up on racism and shocked the shit out of Mike Myers on national television? I get the whole part where "he didn't ask to be a role model, yadda yadda blah blah," and I'm not saying that he wasn't right or he doesn't have the right to express his opinion. However, if you're going to be a public figure and make millions of dollars and have kids look up to you, you have a responsibility to at least refrain from publicly saying things that could incite an all-out race war.

Before this thing gets dragged out longer than that pause before they went to Chris Tucker, (which by the way that was awesome because he just had a look on his face like "Damn, how the fuck am I supposed to follow that?"), I'll leave you with my third and final point: You don't get to make a CD about how you're the greatest rapper alive when IT'S ONLY YOUR SECOND ALBUM you cocky, ignorant prick.

Also, while we're setting the record straight, your name is Kanye West, not Kayne Luther King. If you really wanted to be a civil rights activist and help kids in the inner city, then maybe instead of buying another piece from Jakob, (sans conflict diamonds, of course) you could take that same amount money and donate it to the public school system in your home city of Chicago so the kids could have books that were actually printed after you were fucking born. END RANT. (I will freely admit that I have what could probably be considered an unhealthy level of disdain for this guy as a person, but I'm okay with that.)

And finally, this chick.

Kyla Ebbert, a 23 year old college student and Hooter's waitress who almost got kicked off of a Southwest flight because her outfit was too revealing. So this girl goes on the Today show to plead her case, as of course, she's suing the airline. So she stood up and modelled the outfit she wore on the flight, which really didn't look that revealing to be honest.

Until she went to sit down and they had to blur out her snatch, much to the disappointment of the nationwide television audience.

The best part was her mother then tried to defend her saying that she was right to wear said outfit, and it's absolutely ridiculous that she almost got kicked off the flight, AND feels that Southwest should have to pay for embarrassing her daughter...

I agree and disagree here. I agree that she should not have been kicked off the flight for what she wore. At the same time, if you're willfully wearing an outfit that makes your pussy the in-flight movie, you have no right to claim to be embarrassed by anything. Not even almost getting kicked off of a Southwest flight, which by the way I was unaware was actually possible.

I've flown Southwest once and it's basically the aviation equivalent of the The Road Warrior except gasoline = peanuts and generic cola. Basically, if you want a window seat and intend to keep it, you better hold onto the plastic fork that came with the Cinnabon you bought on the concourse.

And now that I think of it, after hearing her interview, this girl is clearly dumb as a bag of hammers, and with a bag over her head would actually be pretty hot. These facts make me pretty sure this whole media blitz/suing thing was mom's idea. In light of these developments I'm calling a last minute audible, Kyla's off the list, mom's on along their lawyer who made the brilliant comment that, "had this been Paris Hilton, they probably would have asked her if she needed a pillow and offer a drink." This a completely asinine argument...

Mainly because Paris Hilton would never fly on Southwest.

Today's Lesson: If when you get dressed in the morning you put on something that necessitates you also wear stylish underwear, you don't get to be offended when people complement you on how your thong matches your shoes.

I Can't Make This Stuff Up... (Which is why I have to do this for free.)

It has been a historic past couple of weeks in the world of sports. Barry Bonds has, for better or worse (see worse), eclipsed Hank Aaron's career home run record. Tom Glavine (thx Dimmy) has become the most recent, and quite possibly the last, pitcher to become a member of the exclusive 300 win club. Both of these events however have been surpassed by a story of even greater courage, determination, and fortitude. That's right, Adam "Pacman" Jones has made his first appearence as a professional wrestler.

Whore (hôr, hōr) - (n.) - A person considered as having compromised principles for personal gain.

(I did not post this to imply Pacman Jones is a whore. Quite the opposite, for as you can clearly see, in order to be a whore you must have principles.)

Every once in a while news stories come along that make you say "there's no way that really happened because it's just too perfect." An event that restores your faith in humanity to entertain while at the same time destroying your faith in humanity to sustain itself for any period of time. Let's face it, everyone likes to watch a train wreck, and the only thing better than a train wreck is a train wreck when the trains collide head-on while leaping through a ring of fire. Something so improbable, yet at the same time so predictable, that it just plain blows your fucking mind. But enough waxing philosophical...

I was trying to understand this on the way to work today, and after burning quite a bit of lean tissue pondering, I think I've got it. So if I'm an embattled professional athlete on suspension, with a reputation for not only making bad decisions, but making a spectacle of myself while making said bad decisions, the best way to rehab my image is to show up on a professional wrestling Pay-Per-View?

Shit... makes sense to me.

What else could go further toward proving that I am a humble, responsible, mature, and productive member of society than letting some cro-magnum freak hopped up on HGH (see Barry Bonds) put me through a table? The only way this could be better would be if he showed up waving a loaded gun around while the public address system played Fat Joe's "Make it Rain," remix ("Don't ask me what my name is, stupid bitch I'm famous," and yes, that's an actual lyric).

If Pacman Jones does not have an image management team he needs to hire one, stat. If he does have an image management team, they should be euthanized. Unless of course, and this would be entirely to perfect to be true, they all realized how completely asinine this was and told him to go ahead with it anyway while futilely trying to suppress their laughter. Either way these people are probably never working again after this, (note: this is probably not a true statement though it definitely should be) and anyone willing to commit career suicide for the sake of comedy is alright by me.

By the way, speaking of "Make it Rain," when did making it rain become a national news story? I was watching ESPN, oh about two weeks ago, and as part of the final rundown on PTI, they covered the fact that Jermain Taylor went to Flashdancers in NYC and made it rain. Now obviously this was one of the days that Kornheiser and Wilbon both had the day of, as they would never allow this mindlessness to waste 15 seconds of air time. The problem is, when stuff like this makes news, I begin to think that Tony and Mike are the only serious journalists left.

It's disgusting enough that these athletes have enough disposable jack to go to a strip club and facilitate precipitation greater than or equal to the country's average yearly income, should we really encourage this behavior by giving these self-absorbed stars the only thing they love more than money? Rhetorical.

Granted most of the times people do this, the strippers don't actually keep the money. But isn't that even worse? Taking part in behavior that might be considered slightly depraved is something I can live with. We all need to occasionally feed our vices so they don't become compulsions, it's only healthy. However, being cheap? That's just inexcusable.

If you're really in a position where you can afford to shower half naked women in money, then you should have enough cash that they can keep it when you're done. If you can't afford to blow $60,000 to help a couple of sexually empowered young ladies "pay for college," then you my friend, have no business "going to the Doppler."

Today's Lesson: You can't always get what you need, but sometimes, you can get what you want.

Honor Among Thieves

Okay, to anyone reading this who doesn't know anything about the game of poker, I apologize in advance. I would hope you would still read though as this post really isn't about poker, rather the backdrop is a poker game. If you don't know about poker and want to learn or if you know a lot about poker and would like to read more about it may I suggest Rex's, Virge's and the Pokersluts' blogs I have linked on the right hand side of the page.

Anyway, so I took my first vacation day since I started my new job today and decided I had the urge to feed one of my favorite vices; gambling.


Land based casinos are as of right now illegal in Illinois, so if you want to gamble you have to go to Indiana or go to the riverboats. One exception to this rule are charity "casino nights." If you're holding a "casino night" for the benefit of a charity, said charity may apply for and receive temporary gaming license... I love this country

Now as a result of the poker boom a couple of organizations have sprung up in my state that throw these casino nights for various charities. The charity supplies the people to run the "cash cage" to make it legal, and these organizations set up the events and provide the dealers. Hence, Chicago Charitable Games and Rockford Charitable Games together throw roughly five of these "casino nights," at which 95% of the action is some form of poker, a week. A rake (percentage) is taken from each pot or tournament played at these events and this is the money that goes to the hosting charity.

So I looked on the internet to see if one of these organizations was going to have an event in my area since, while the nearest river boat doesn't offer stakes as low as I wanted to play today, these events typically do. Low and behold, Chicago Charitable Games was holding an event about fifteen minutes, from my house so, I was all like "Yahtzee." Now Rockford Charitable Games has been doing these types of events for years, and I've been to many of their events and been happy with the experience. Chicago Charitable Games, other the other hand, is kind of a young upstart in the charity poker scene, only having organized their first event earlier this year.

Both of these companies have some issues, as most businesses operating inside legal loopholes do. The dealers that work for the company work solely for tips. So basically they're the same people that would have a job as a casino dealer if the casino dealers didn't have a decent hourly wage or health benefits. They're not bad people for the most part but definitely not the brightest crayons in the box.

Let's just put it this way, there is a lot of menthol cigarette smoking going on with this crowd. Now before like 5 of the 8 people who read this blog post accusing me of being racist, almost 90% of the dealers are white so slow your roll. I'm also not saying that if you smoke menthol cigarettes you are poor or uneducated or both. Some people just like menthols and that's cool. I've smoked them, they can be quite tasty. What I AM saying is if you are poor and uneducated and do you smoke, when you go to BP you're probably deciding between Newports, Kools, or Marlboro Menthol Lights (unless of course the perennial P-Funk Buy Two Get One is on the table). There's nothing wrong with it, but let's be honest with ourselves.

Anyway, the dealers, because they are provided by the company, are the same at every event. This means they know the regulars which is fine, that could happen at the casino as well. The difference between these events and the casino is that the dealers also sometimes play at the events when they on breaks from dealing. Usually this is not an issue at the Rockford events because for the most part their events are run very professionally. I have even seen a floor (think pit boss for you non-poker players) go against a player who is a dealer for the company.

So flash forward to today, I'm on my way to this event like a kid coming downstairs on Christmas morning. I get there and register for the tournament I saw online that I wanted to play in, and I get my seat. We're about to get started and two guys sit down immediately to my right. The guy closest to me, we'll call him "Paul," is a dealer for Chicago Charitable Games, the guy immediately to his right, we'll call him "Ringo," is apparently a regular. Paul and Ringo know each other and, for all intents and purposes, are assholes. For some reason, I feel a pit developing in my stomach. You probably see where this is going already, but don't worry I will recall it in gory detail anyway.

A little bit about me. I was no angel growing up. I got into multiple fights in grade/junior high/high school, but I've mellowed considerably with age. I've tried to adopt the old turn the other cheek, best revenge is to live well. I'm young, my heart is an open book, I say live and let live... all that shit.

Don't get me wrong, i still want to punch people in the throat, the difference is now I suppress the urge.

So the cards are in the air and I notice Paul and Ringo are showing each other their hands after one of them folds. There are two problems with this. First of all, poker is not a team game (usually); one person to a hand. Second, even if Paul is out of the hand, when Ringo shows him what he has, even though it doesn't affect the betting, Paul is getting information that nobody else at the table is getting. Poker is a game of information, so this is very not cool.

Now I like to give everyone a chance. The problem is that I can already tell that these two clowns have mouths on them; big fishes in the backyard pond that is the world of Charity Poker events. Honestly, I could give a fuck less; if you're king of the sewer it doesn't matter how nice your palace is, it still smells like shit all the time. Apparently they feel like big shots though so whatever keeps them from kicking the chair out when they go home alone every night. So I respectfully ask them:

"Can you guys do me a favor and please not share your hands with each other?"

Paul: "Dude what the fuck does it matter if I'm not in the hand?"

Okay, he might just be out of Kools and a little testy, let's try this again:

Me: "Well see the problem is though, you guys know what each other is playing, playing to a raise, calling with, etcetera, and the rest of us don't."

Paul: "That's fuckin' stupid, it doesn't fuckin' matter if I fuckin' show him my hand..."

Well, at least he's an articulate little son of a bitch isn't he?

Okay now I want to let this one slide because I think he might just be upset because he doesn't know what "etcetera" means, which is fine. We can't all be ex-journalism majors and the few big words I don't know scare me too, so I'm cool, but then his buddy chimes in.

Ringo: "I tell you what buddy... anytime I show him a hand just ask to see it and I'll show you if that will make you feel better."

Now I dunno how much time you all spend in poker rooms, so for those of you who aren't familiar with how these interactions work, basically right now he's talking in code. What he said loosely translates to "Fuck your mother."

Okay so I've gone from like a 2 to a 7, which means I've already envisioned killing both of these guys with my bare hands in three different ways in the theatre of my mind, but whatever. I remind myself that they're probably both career Office Max cashiers so I don't worry about it. The game continues to go on and they continue to talk shit. I continue to resist the urge to grab one of them by the throat, take him outside, and slam his head in a car door. All is well in our microcosmic utopia of poker.

Now this is the part where some of the non-poker people may get a little lost but just try to stay with me as best as you can, you'll get the important parts. Start pokerspeak...

So I have about 4500 in front of me and I wake up to AKos, Ringo is in the big blind. Blinds are 100/200, I make it 700 to go. Ringo calls. Flop comes QQ6, separate suits. I know at this point that not only is my AK good, but I'm getting pay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-id because this guy is so cocky that if I bet he's gonna come bounding over the top of me with air. I bet 1000. I know Ringo is going to shove over the top of me for the rest of his about 2600 and then if I fold show his bluff in a feeble attempt prove to everyone else at the table that he is a better person than me, in poker and life. That's how these jackasses think but whatever. So he takes his stack in his hand, and goes to throw it in the pot. He moves the chips past his cards, about a foot in and a half in front of him, making a clear and decisive move to throw them into the pot. I beat him into the pot, throwing my chips in. Ringo however has not let go, and now pulls his chips back.

Now those of you who do not play poker probably don't understand the problem. The problem here is that what Ringo did is blatantly illegal. If a player takes chips and makes a betting motion, he must complete that motion. If you pull the chips back after making such a motion, your chips must still go into the pot. Otherwise you are doing what is called "shooting an angle" which is basically poker-speak for "doing something that could get you stabbed with an ice pick."

I immediately pick up on this and notify the dealer. Three or four other people at the table chime in and agree with me as this is a pretty standard rule in every card room/casino but apparently NOT at this particular charity event. Ringo thinks those chips still belong to him, so we call over the floor. Now the floor is younger than I am and even though he's dressed business casual, it's painfully apparent he's faking his air of professionalism and just can't quite pull it off. If you guys don't know what I'm talking about here, go to any mid-market department store like Carson Pierie Scott or Marshall Fields and find the kid in the shirt, tie, dress pants, and lip ring. That's not the problem though. Here's the problem: The floor knows Paul and Ringo, he doesn't know me.

Apparently, this means that Ringo doesn't have to give me his chips and myself and the other now four people at the table who know the rule are painfully mistaken.

Needless to say, I am confused and saddened by this turn of events. I understand that by coming to these events and not being a "regular" some players may have an advantage over me because they know other players' tendencies and I don't. That's fine. I understand that the entire concept of these charity poker things is kinda shady to begin with so it's not going to be as professionally run as, say a game at a casino. I figure that's a fair trade for me not having to drive an hour each way. What I'm not okay with is being outright cheated.

If you're going to have a shady business, that's fine, but you never cheat your customers. Most gamblers especially understand that their chosen past time is not necessarily always within the boundaries of local law. They're usually okay with this though, as long as the integrity of the game is sound. One thing gamblers can't stand, legal or illegal, is a crooked game.

You could have an illegal backroom card game that is run by the mafia and dealt by 5 year old children from a third world country that get paid three cents an hour and it will be packed every night if the action is good. But it doesn't matter if the game is in the heart of Las Vegas, dealt by Miss America, with all proceeds going to cancer research, if the game is outed as being crooked you'll lose your clientele faster than you can say "Hey, how did that tumbleweed get in here?" Not to mention the fact that depending on who said clientele is, you just might just wake up in the middle of the night to knock on your front door from someone sent to seriously fuck your day up.

But I'm past that by this point. I'm more like the father whose daughter runs out immediately on her 18th birthday and gets a tattoo on her lower back and her tongue pierced.

I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed.

By the way, both lower back tattoos and tongue rings are hot, so I really don't have a problem with either of them, in fact quite the opposite. That said, God forbid I have daughter and she gets either one of those things, she's getting shipped out to a convent in the middle of the South American jungle the next morning.

I should probably try to get back on topic here instead of being distracted by tongue rings and lower back tattoos (as I often am).

When we last left off, Ringo is absolutely giddy by this point, as he gets to keep his chips and has "pulled one over on me." Because of this he is celebrating by letting everyone know how "smart he is" for not putting his chips in the pot and how dumb I am for "acting too quick."

You can't spell "class" without an "ass."

This brings me to my next point.

I'm running for President in 2008, and I'm going to win. My platform is simple.

I promise, if elected, to make it legal to punch anyone over the age of 18 and under the age of 65 in the face once.



I'm thoroughly convinced this would law would make the United States of America the most polite country in the world. This law would effectively eradicate all racism, sexism, and other forms of discrimination from our society.

BMW and Mercedes Benz owners would yield to Toyota Corollas in traffic.

The everyday consumer would actually be nice to customer service people.

Everyone would tip 20%.

Let's be honest, we would all be a lot nicer to each other if there was a chance that if we weren't, we just might get jacked in the face. Now I know this sounds barbaric to some at first but you have to realize the psychology behind our new law.

The idea isn't that anyone will now be able to punch someone in the face without fear of consequence.

The idea is that the fear of a punch to the face will prevent people from doing things that cause them to deserve one.

Like a first kiss, or a first job, the day a person learns the humbling fact that "ain't nobody above as ass-whipping" is an important right of passage that is vital if one is to become a productive and functioning member of society.

It's a well known fact, that for the most part people are either talkers or fighters. People talk shit because they can't fight and people who can fight don't have to talk shit because, well, they can fight; natural selection has smiled on them and they have nothing to prove. Now normally this would be alright, but unfortunately the way our current legal system is arranged people who have no right whatsoever to talk shit are allowed to run their mouths whenever they please with minimal fear of reprisal. This must be corrected, and once I am elected this law will present us all with the solution set to this algebraic equation of injustice.

So remember when you step into that ballot box on election day 2008, if this ever-changing world in which we live in makes you give in and cryyyyyyyyyyy...

Vote for me.

Today's lesson: If you're gonna be dishonest, you had better at least be honest about it.

Come Original (Please For The Love of God)

Okay, we need to have a talk about TV.

Don't get me wrong there have been some decent new shows in the past year or so. Deadliest Catch; good shit. Let's be honest, if you're going to have a show and the theme song is going to be "Wanted Dead Or Alive" by Bon Jovi, it had better be a pretty fucking good show, (say what you want about Bon Jovi and his haircare and the horrible excuse for recycling that were his last two albums, that song rocks you everything you care about.)

Obviously, Entourage. This is the greatest show on television. If you don't believe me consider the fact that this conversation has probably been had at the HBO offices on more than one occasion:

Exec 1: "So basically, what you're telling me is we have a hit show that's basically just a half hour about some famous dude and his friends running around La-La land trying to get puss?"

Exec 2: "Yeah... and it wins Emmy's."

Oh yeah, and when you have some free time IMDB Kevin Dillon, because even if I tell you Johnny Drama was in Platoon, you're not gonna believe me. In fact, if I'm not mistaken his character's nickname in Platoon was "Bunny," so if you've seen the episode of Entourage from two Sundays ago, ("Day Fuckers") you'll know why the obscure reference gods are smiling.

Plus crazy props to USA for pulling the Exacta with "Psych" and "Burn Notice." Psych is by far the better of the two, but Burn Notice, while not as good as Psych, is not that bad. Besides, the former counter-culture kid in me wants to stand up and clap just seeing Bruce Campbell working again (Ahoy indeed, my friend). Not to mention the main character's girlfriend is fuckin' smokin', except the missed out on the the 3x hotness multiplier they would have hit had they kept the Irish accent she had in the pilot.

I can't forget about Jericho. Since when does a network actually bring back a phenomenal show after cancelling it due to public outcry? Somebody lost their job over bringing that show back, they had to. Intelligent people aren't allowed to be network executives. Congratulations on finally doing something that Fox didn't even have the stones to try.

That's not what we need to talk about though.

Alas kiddies, all is not well in TV land. There is a new scourge threatening the very fabric of all that is holy on basic cable. I'm talking, of course, about...

Bounty Girls Miami.

Tim Chapman is not pleased.
Between this and "Ice Road Truckers" it's painfully apparent that Hollywood has run the fuck out of new ideas. I'm thoroughly convinced at this very minute there is a room somewhere at Discovery Networks where there is a person wondering aloud, "Hey remember The Godfather? We could probably sell advertising during a shitty version of that."

But I digress... A couple of thoughts on this one. First of all, Bounty Girls Miami? Not to be a dick, but who told these chicks this was a good business plan? Granted the one looks like an absolute man-beast (and honestly when I say "the one" you can pretty much take your pick, but in this particular case referring to "Jag"). Let's be honest though, Beth still has 38 pounds and a Twinkie on the four of them put together; these girls are not scaring anyone.

Dog and Tim look like they got lost on the way to Summerslam, and people try to fight them. These girls look like the got lost on the way to Curves, I don't think it's an illogical assumption to make that somebody is gonna try to slap the shit out of these poor women. I'm not sayin' it's right, I'm just sayin' they better have Quinton Jackson for their cameraman because if I was flyin' on PCP and they came to my house, I would most definitely have my "Shiiiiiiiiiiiit ain't no way in hell I'm goin' back to jail," T-shirt on.

As a quick side note, if you're one of these people who is a die hard boxing fan but will not watch MMA because you find it "barbaric," you seriously need to burn that soapbox right now. Besides, watching it go up in flames will pry be more dramatic and riveting than any WBO Heavyweight fight you're going to see anytime soon.

Second of all, does Court TV honestly think that there's room for more than one show about a team of people running down drug addicted bail jumpers? Let's just be honest with ourselves, people do no watch DTBH because they want to see bounty hunters hunt down bail jumpers. People watch DTBH (aside, of course, from not wanting to miss the episode where they finally give Tim an asp,) because nothing makes for better television than a former drug addict who is prone to begin waxing philosophical at a moment's notice. If Court TV wants to try to compete for the DTBH demographic (which, btw, is everyone), they're better off going after syndication rights for episodes of "I'm With Busey."

All that being said, if they give these chicks tasers all bets are off and my Tivo says "Feed me."

Speaking of real life crime drama, has anyone seen commercials for this new show "Murder" on Spike? Basically the premise is as follows; "Hey, everyone is mesmerized like an 18 year old kid getting his first table dance by 12 different versions of CSI, so let's make a reality show where we take a group of people we found wandering around outside the studio lot and have them try to solve REAL crimes."

Just out of random curiosity, how is this even fucking legal?

So you have real people's real dead bodies, and real crimes, and people who are not at all real cops? If I do ever kill someone I hope to God it makes this show because I could confess and go with a public defender and still skate. The only people worse that the people who came up with, financed, and then proceeded to green light this match made in hell are the families of the victims who I'm sure signed forests of waivers and took home a decent chunk of jack so their newly dead relatives could could get their posthumous 15 minutes. If "The Real World" and CSI we supposed to go together, somebody would have shot Puck. Come to think of it, someone probably should have shot Puck.

Rounding it out with the ugly; "The Kill Point." Spike needs to stop making original shows that aren't about the UFC. If you make a show about a hostage situation resulting from a bank robbery done by a bunch of guys who are ex-military and you somehow figure out a way to make it boring, the Etch-A-Sketch that is your Creative Department is in dire need of a good shaking.

Okay, a private detective who is OCD? Solid. A hostage negotiator who is obsessed with grammar? Stupid. If you haven't seen this show let me give you a glimpse. Donnie Wahlberg's character and one of his antagonists are in the middle of heated, climactic dialogue. Then, just when you think the confrontation is going to reach it's breaking point, he decides to make his crushing point by dissecting the antagonist's sentence structure.

No really, I'm serious.

While this would probably cause my Freshman English teacher from high school to have to clean the hardwood floor under her recliner with a mop and bucket, the rest of the world is cringing. Cringing like you do when you think about that one time back in college when the guy/girl you had a crush on actually sat down next to you at that party and instead of coming up with something witty or sexy to say you instead began sweating profusely until you inexplicably got up and ran out of the room, (carpe diem, baby).

Yeah it's that bad, if you don't believe me, check out an episode. Just remember, you're not getting that hour of your life back, no matter how many times you ask.

Today's Lesson: They call it a cash box because it's where you keep your cash.

Bonus Lesson just for Spike TV: Little known fact, Mark Wahlberg and Donnie Wahlberg? Not the same guy.

Freebie

New post in production currently, but meanwhile I have to give a shameless plug to a couple of people I think are probably two of the smartest comedians out there right now. And no, I'm not talking about Dane Cook.

Patton Oswalt and Lewis Black.

Below I have provided Amazon links to a couple of their CDs and DVDs

http://www.amazon.com/Wasted-Education-Reccomendation-List/lm/R31J1ZPB37L8GM/ref=cm_lm_pdp_title_full/104-6912598-1536752

I also added a DVD by David Spade and a double disc by Henry Rollins. I don't recommend these as strongly as the selections by Oswalt and Black but Spade shows that he is most likely criminally under-rated as a stand-up comic and Rollins is just an all around great story teller with a great, albeit dark, sense of humor.

By the way this link isn't set up so that if you buy this stuff and I get cash, that's what the ads on the side of the page are for (HINT HINT). I just assume that if you find my blog entertaining you probably have at least a similar sense of humor to myself and I wanted to share a couple of performances I thoroughly enjoyed that you probably haven't heard about.

Love,

Huck

The kids are alright...

I don't smoke pot. I've done it before, I don't have anything against it, it's just not my thing. I would much rather get completely piss drunk if I want to voluntarily impair myself. That way I maybe wake up with a headache but I still have some snacks left in the cupboard and I don't have to go to drink Jell-O for three days straight if I feel like changing jobs. Besides, I never have to worry whether or not the chick selling me my Red Bull and vodka is a cop.

I do, however, love anti-drug commercials. They are either the most pitiful attempt at influencing the youth demographic I have ever seen, or the biggest inside joke in the history of public relations, I haven't decided yet. These commercials just plain laughable, either they're ridiculously cliche or they make stretches of logic that would make Mr. Fantastic be like "Damn."

Who can forget the one where the kids get high, are playing with a loaded gun, and the kid shoots his friend in the face? By the way bear in mind that this kid getting his brain Jackson Pollocked all over a suburban den had nothing to do with the proper securing of a firearm, but instead the recreational use of cannabis. So let me get this straight... It's perfectly okay to keep a loaded .357 in an unlocked desk drawer when you have kids in the house, but little Bobby tokes it up every once in a while you're a bad parent? Interesting theory...

Smoking pot isn't gonna make your kid shoot his friend in the face, but it might make him think it's hilarious.

This new one is my favorite though:

Okay first of all, let's get something straight; if you're so fucked up that you think your pets are talking to you, you're smoking something a lot harder that marijuana.

Second of all, does anyone really think that kids who are smoking pot care if their dog is disappointed in them? I mean this is better than the old strategy they used where the kid's friend would confront them which was just plain illogical because let's just be honest; if you're getting high, your friends are probably getting high too.

Heroin junkies get high by themselves. Potheads? not so much.

These commercials are not going to scare kids into not smoking pot. Hell most of these commercials would be absolutely HILARIOUS if you watched them while high, so that's not getting us anywhere with our target demographic.

Now I've been in sales for quite a long time. In sales we have a concept called the "hot button." The hot button is what matters most to your audience. Once you know what your customer's hot button is, if you're good, you can exploit it to sell them pretty much anything, it's basic psychology. So what's a teenager's hot button? Popularity. It always has been, it always will be.

If popularity can get homophobic 16 year old males to walk around in pink shirts with their collars popped and faux-hawks, it can get the same kid to stop smoking weed, I'm sure of it.

You want to scare kids into not doing drugs? Do a commercial about a 35 year old guy who lives in his mom's basement, drives a 1994 Toyota Corolla, and hasn't gotten laid in 10 years because he's smoked himself so retarded he can't get promoted past being a cashier at Office Max. Not only is that a reasonable leap to make, it's a hell of a lot scarier than a talking dog.

It's not rocket science, it's just market research. If the Office of National Drug Control Policy put the same effort into marketing that Abercrombie & Fitch does, I wouldn't have had a roommate in college who talked about the legalization of pot like it was the second coming of Jesus Christ.

"Dude, when the legalization comes, we're gonna be able to smoke anywhere we want to. You'll be able to go to Walgreen's to buy it man, and it'll be ten times better than the shit we have now. They already did it places in Europe and that stuff is unbelievable, and once they make it legal here we'll have stuff like that an we're gonna be able to smoke it everywhere and the cops won't be able to do shit. Plus, think of all the money the government is gonna be able to make if they tax it, (see inset above)"

The duck says... "Quack quack."

The cow says... "Mooooooooooo."

The Keanu says... "Whoa."

Like I said, I have nothing against people who like to smoke pot. I do, however, have a problem with people who are that fanatical about anything, but that's an entirely different story. I really don't care if they legalize marijuana or not, but guess what? Not gonna happen.

You want reasons? Here's two:

First of all, there's no way that I'm aware of to do a field sobriety test for Marijuana. So if you're driving in your car high, how are the cops supposed to tell if you're too high to drive legally? Sure if you're passed out at the wheel, you pry shouldn't be cruisin' downtown scopin' for chicks, but unfortunately they need a scientific measure that would hold up in court.

Second, the government has been telling us for over 50 years that marijuana is the devil. There is no way in hell (thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week and PLEASE take care of your waitresses, they've been taking care of you) they're gonna turn back now.

Regardless of whether or not pot is as bad as they say it is, or if it makes suburban kids turn into felons, or if it's a gateway drug to shooting horse with a hooker in a Soho motel bathroom, or when you smoke a joint an angel dies whatever, doesn't matter. If they change their story now, they're gonna look like assholes. If our government was okay with looking like assholes, we would've pulled out of Iraq a year ago. If thousands of young American lives aren't worth admitting they made a mistake, I really don't think Congress cares if some kid wants to get blazed out of his mind and watch The Wall and still be within the boundaries of the law.

Sorry buddy, I guess you'll have to get a real job and sell out to the man so you can afford a flight to Amsterdam.

Today's Lesson: If you really could get high on life, the CIA would be selling it.

"I am the angel of death... now rub my belly."

It must've been a really slow news day on Thursday, because this story actually made the Chicago Tribune. Now being a journalism major in college, there's nothing I dislike more than soft news. It violates a clear principle of journalism, what we called in my college courses the "Who really gives a shit?" test. If I wanted to hear a feel good story, I'd watch a Hallmark movie of the week. Couldn't this space be used for something that might actually inform the public like oh, I dunno, relevant political discussion? Oh wait I forgot, the media hasn't been in that business since Ben Franklin.

Anyway, so I'm reading this story. This cat has to be stopped. I can't believe it hasn't occurred to someone at Steere House Nursing and Rehabilitation Center to wax this feline? Don't get me wrong I love animals. I worked at a no-kill shelter when I was growing up. My parents, in fact, have quite a few cats of their own that I care about very much, one of whom, coincidentally happens to be named Oscar.

The difference is, my Oscar doesn't kill people.

Plus if you read the article, it's clear that this cat isn't exactly a prize either. They describe him as "aloof," which is basically a nice way of saying "an asshole."

Now I could go on a couple of paragraph rant about how "yes animals can be assholes," but I did that a couple of posts ago all I'm gonna say is, not all of my parents' cats like me. When I first came back home one of them didn't like me getting my room back so he pissed on my clothes.

Animals can also be assholes.

But not only is this cat an asshole, he's clearly murdering these people. If one of the nurses had a reputation like this, he or she would've been arrested eight kills ago for crying out loud. If my grandfather was still alive and at this hospital and I saw this cat milling around his room, I would prolly put on a pair of gloves (so he wouldn't kill me of course) and dropkick this little bastard. Nothing personal, but I'm not letting this four legged Manson kill my grandpa.

But I know PETA's got a shitload of lobbying dollars, so the chances Oscar getting tactically eliminated probably aren't that good. So that being said can't we at least put this cat to better use? I mean most of these old people were probably gonna die anyway, why don't we lock Oscar in a room with Michael Vick for a while, see what happens? Use him to fight the insurgency in Iraq perhaps? I mean it would be a shame to let this unique talent go to waste.

Speaking of wastes of talent, can we just give Michael Vick the chair already? I'm serious, Ron Mexico needs to die.

Not because he abused some dogs, (even though that story make even my cold heart want to puke) but because he's clearly a role model to today's youth. It's obvious at this point that it is physically impossible for him to show the young men, who without doubt look up to him because of his athletic accomplishments, how to conduct themselves with dignity and integrity, so why don't we, as the kids say, "flip it on him?

If we can't use this guy as an example of how hard work pays off, instead let's use him as an example of how God will strike down those who take the gifts given to them for granted? This clown has damned a perfectly good football team to a decade of mediocrity and is obviously as dumb as a bag of hammers. I mean come on, nobody is gonna miss this guy, not even Joe Horn (which, btw, when did get get moved to the ATL? I like him he doesn't deserve that.)

This guy is a disgrace to America's game (sorry baseball, I thought you knew). He's clearly a complete moron with entirely too much money and not enough common sense. He's gotta go.

Today's lesson: Guns don't kill people, cats kill people.

Sorry for the layoff

As if I have readers let alone loyal ones, ha.

New post coming tomorrow, might do it at work, we'll see.

"Dude... who ate all the amber waves of grain?"

Today is a great day in American history. On this, our nation's birthday, one man reminded us all of they type of resolve our forefathers embodied in opposing tyranny and forming our great country.


Joey Chestnut has defeated Takeru Kobayashi.

Seriously though this competitive eating thing has gotten completely out of hand. I think it's pretty obvious to everyone except ESPN that this is not a sport. Yet for some reason I haven't seen them blatantly over hype something this badly since the Arena football playoffs this past weekend.

Am I the only person is unable to watch these things without becoming nauseous? Wait... hold on... I'll answer that; no. Yet every 4th of July for the past three years sports fans have been force-fed (thank you, remember to tip your waitress) this garbage. Now it's been a while since I've cracked The Good Book, but I'm pretty sure a dude eating hot dogs making the first ten minutes of Sportscenter is the 6th Plague of Egypt.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't mind hearing about who won this thing in passing, like during the last five minutes of the ten o'clock news right after the story about the high school kids cleaning up a neighborhood park. What's disturbing is what was once an annual inside joke for Sportscenter became serious this year. When two days before the competition they are covering Kobayashi's injury, a sore jaw (read: God trying to tell him something), they've officially jumped the shark... while riding on the back of a clown.

Being able to eat over 60 hot dogs in 12 minutes is never something someone should be proud of. To herald it as an act of "conditioning" is just criminal.

See, competitive eating used to be cute. Like three years ago when people like Eric "Badlands" Booker and Ed "Cookie" Jarvis (that's right, they have their own websites) ruled the buffet.

There was no mistake that these guys were not athletes. It was "Hey let's watch some fatties give themselves type 2 diabetes," and everyone had a good time (by the way, there's nothing wrong with being fat, I'm not knocking fat people here, I'm knocking people who aren't honest with themselves.)

The hot dog eating contest was being billed as what it is; a bad carnival side show ("You guys want 4 tickets so I can see what? I can go on the fucking Tilt-A-Whirl for 3.")

Now the hot dog eating champion weighs in at a measly 230 pounds. A 230 pound guy who can eat get over 60 hot dogs in his mouth in under 12 minutes? I just hope and pray for his sake he never goes to prison.


Seriously though, this is bullshit. If I am going to waste my 4 tickets to watch this unnatural act, I want to see it being done by someone who is going to have to be lifted out of their house with a fucking crane when they die.

I don't want to see someone eat 60 hot dogs because they want to be on ESPN.

I want to see someone eat 60 hot dogs because they are hungry.

Now this is billed with all the pageantry of a heavyweight fight as "athletes pushing themselves to the edge of their physical capabilities." It's not "He just threw up all over himself," it's "Uh oh, looks like Jarvis suffered a reversal."

A "reversal."

You're shitting me right?

Listen, if it really was a "reversal," I wouldn't have gotten kicked out of a bar for doing it on my 22nd birthday.

Now I'm all for having good time while enjoying culinary delights. I've used whipped cream for other than it's intended purpose on multiple occasions. Some days it takes me a half hour to decide what to have for lunch simply because I love food.

Hell, I had a friend when I was in high school that myself and two other friends bet that he couldn't eat 100 Taco Bell tacos. He did it in three hours and only puked twice and it was awesome.

This is out of hand, though.

Stuff like this should be reserved for frat houses and Paul Newman movies.

So here I sit, watching some joker hoist the American flag with pride as Scott Van Pelt waxes philosophical about how Kobayashi losing marks the end of an era in sports, not unlike the retirement of Lance Armstrong.

I think I'm about to have a reversal.

Today's lesson: Move over bowling, golf, and NASCAR; you've got company.

If you can't beat em, go on monster.com.

Corporate training videos are the greatest invention of modern time.

If not for these cinematic gems, millions of high school kids would be incapable of selling you a 4 year service plan on your DVD player.

More importantly, they are the best source of unintentional comedy this side of Dog: The Bounty Hunter.

(I'm gonna go on a slight tangent here but don't worry it will all come back full circle.

Dog: The Bounty Hunter is, ironically, the crystal meth of television.

Nobody ever intends to get hooked on Dog: The Bounty Hunter. One day, you're at someone's house and someone is watching Dog: The Bounty Hunter. You sit down and you say "what the hell I'll watch it for a minute, what's the worst thing that can happen?" Next thing you know you're hooked. Now you're not just watching DTBH, you're Tivoing DTBH. You're obviously hiding your DTBH addiction from your friends, family, and co-workers because you're afraid of what they might think. As much as you try to hold it together and be a recreational DTBH viewer, eventually it begins to become a major part of your life.

You start using the word "Brah" in casual conversations. You talk to your friends about "turning a page in their life" Your neighbor borrows a power tool and doesn't give it back for three months, but you still loan it to him again the next time because you're convinced he's "a good guy and wants to make a change." Do you want know why Dog: The Bounty Hunter captivates us so? It's a show based on people of the same intellectual level these corporate training videos are aimed at. Now if that's not wrapped in a pretty little package slap my face and call me Sally.)

They are beautifully paradoxical, first they wax poetic as to how an employee who uses the following procedures will be wildly successful, then they proceed to explain the procedures as if the people the video was intended for function only slightly above someone with a severe learning disability.

I work for a very large company, and like most very large companies they use a cookie-cutter approach to employee training. Translation: "Let's hand out jobs like halloween candy, then mold the impressionable idiots into robots while hoping we can get enough production out of the overachievers to justify hiring them even though they're going to realize that they're really not that desperate for a job, get sick of our bullshit and quit in a year."

As a result of this philosophy, we are treated to a steady stream of the aforementiong training videos. So there I sit today, anxiously awaiting the latest corporate video treat like I haven't figured out yet that Soylent Green is people.

If Mystery Science Theatre 3000 had access to these things they would still be on the air and the producers would be using Emmy's as hood ornaments.

An actual line from the video:

"Now that you have the customer in front of you, log on to (data entry system) and click "yes" in response to the "Is the customer present?" question."

Are you serious?

Ok, now I'm not rich by any means but for a punk kid fresh out of college, I'm well above par on the pay scale which makes me wonder... Who are they hiring for this job that this needs to be explained? I would think this problem could be solved by a few slight modifications to the application:


In the following section please circle either Yes or No and provide addition information as prompted:

In the past five years have you committed a felony? Yes No
If you answered "Yes" to the above question, please explain:

In the past five years have you committed a misdemeanor (other than traffic related offenses)? Yes No
If you answered "Yes" to the above question, please explain:

In the past five years have you ever fucked up a glass of water? Yes No

Let's be honest. Employers do not want intelligence. Intelligence leads to opinions and things like independent thought. That shit is the syringe on the beach of corporate America. Unless you're interviewing for a CEO spot they're really not looking for the kid who graduated at the top of his class and wants to change the world.

They're looking for the kid who started smoking because that cartoon camel played pool like a madman.

Today's lesson: Surgeron General's Warning: Free thought may be hazardous to your career.

Baby at a ballgame...

One question... Why?

What would ever possess someone to take a baby to a ballgame? The kid isn't going to remember the game. The kid is too young to have the cognitive ability to have any real rooting interest, except maybe to hate Duke, a tendency which is born into all of us and can only be brainwashed out later in life. The best part is you have to lug the kid around the arena/stadium/Wrigley Field what have you.

This can't end well, it can only end okay.

Best case scenario the baby is quiet, doesn't soil his/herself and you only have to carry the baby around a crowded ballpark.

Worst case scenario, the kid has to be changed three times in a nine inning ballgame, 5 innings of which are spent bawling his or her lungs out and seriously ruining the good time of people around you.


High School kids need money to buy pot.

Grandparents need something to do on a Sunday afternoon.

This is a completely unecessary risk.

I have nothing against kids, the majority of them are very cute and only a few of them are assholes (and yes a kid can be an asshole, if you're reading this saying "it's just a phase" or "Jimmy just screams all the time and doesn't share because he doesn't know any better" guess what, your kid is an asshole). But a kid under the age of 4 has no place at a ballgame.

Which brings me to my next point...

If you have a kid between the ages of 4 and 14 and you do take him/her to a ballgame know what you're getting yourself into. If you don't want little Timmy (you wouldn't want take Jimmy, he's an asshole) to see loud drunken people and hear colorful language, don't take him to the game.

Guess what? It's not about "I paid (insert obscene monetary figure here) for this seat and I have a right to get hammered and cuss out J.J. Hardy." That's an ignorant argument, you're right, but it's not about that. It's simple; realize where you're going. If you're going to a ballgame there are going to be drunk people there acting in a less than civilized manner, depending on where the game is there may be quite a few. Don't act all suprised and shocked or shoot dirty looks when you go to the game with Timmy and the guy next to you is piss drunk and advises every player on the opposing team to "GO FUCK YOURSELF!" everytime they come to the plate.

That would be like getting saying "Hey I got an idea, let's have a knife fight," and then getting pissed when some dude stabs you.

I know this may come as a shock to some people but 99.9% of the people (unless you're at a Blue Jays game then it's 91%... Canadians usually prefer hockey) aren't thinking about whether or not they're being a good influence on your child.

Today's lesson: Don't bring your beeper to church and don't bring your wedding dress to a tomato fight.