Archive for February, 2007

Published on  March 29, 2006.

1)                  Tucker Max – no matter how perverted I think I am at times, I can have solace in knowing Tucker Max has done worse

2)                  Dick Cheney – wouldn’t you like to shoot a hick from Texas without any legal ramifications

3)                  Ervin Johnson – biggest equipment in the NBA, anyone who can touch the bottom of a Pringles can with his penis is someone that must be looked up to

4)                  Britney Spears’ ex-boyfriends – for getting to her while she wasn’t fat

5)                  Michael Jordan – for writing the book on how to be the man

6)                  Barry Bonds’ PR man – will be getting paid overtime for a long time

7)                  Stuart Scott – why can’t all people with lazy eyes be so lucky

                  Kirby Puckett’s Ex-wife – all of the beatings finally paid off

9)                  Wade Boggs – for drinking 100 beers on an airplane ride

10)                  Me – for being so damn good looking 

TKM’s ridiculously uncomfortable behavior…You know how you cringe for someone when watching a t.v. show, when they say something stupid or make a situation awkward as you feel so bad for the character or person.  Well at times I go as far as changing the channel because I’m so uncomfortable.  Last thursday evening, I had that same feeling.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t just change the channel and it wasn’t temperory like a t.v. show, I had to endure it the entire evening.  So, lets lay out the events.  Some Anheuser-Busch lady was walking around the bar looking for people to participate in a rock, paper, scissors tournament.  There was a small group of us at the bar and we had nothing better to do, so we signed up for the tournament63.  We all made it a couple rounds, but TwinKidMan was getting way too into it and shit talking opponents as he kept advancing through the bracket.  He eventually makes it to the semi’s and gets smoked by some girl who wouldn’t get off rock.  I probably heard him bitch about how he should have scouted his opponent for the next 20 minutes, as then he would have been prepared for her to never switch off rock (seriously get a life, who the hell would ever scout a rock, paper, scissors tourney).  TKM’s all disappointed he lost, when a lady comes up and gives him this plastic sleeve with a sheet of paper in it saying rock, paper, scissors champion that went around his neck (kinda looked like a v.i.p. pass).  Turns out, whoever made it to the semi’s would advance on and could attend the next tourney a couple weeks later.  I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him happier and he proceeded to wear it the rest of the night and sported it proudly like it was a fucking gold medal.  The rest of the night he told everyone about his quasi victory.  And by everyone, I mean everyone including people he barely knew that worked at the bar and random people just passing by our table.  He went as far as calling his parents and almost every single person in his phone.  Everyone would give him the same awkward response.  Yeah, well I guess congrats man.  When, what’s really running through their head is, is he fucking serious right now and does he think I care.  By the time we leave the first bar and make our way to Applebee’s for good food and cheap beer TKM has still not stopped talking about it.  The first thing he does at Applebee’s is tell our waitress.  He was pretty much acting like he won the afc championship.  Little did he know it’s like winning the play in game for the ncaa tourney.  See, he would have to win or make it to the semi’s of something like 7 straight tourney’s before he would win anything.  I know this because JackBauer’sGirl used to work for Budweiser and do these tourney’s all the time.  All in all his actions for the evening, reminded me of a parent who just doesn’t realize how dumb/out of touch with reality they are.  Everyone felt extremely uncomfortable just being around him and/or having any association with him. 

Other Random Events from the night…The first thing TheMilf said when we got to the first bar was, “there’s some guys here that you’re gonna wanna fight.”  Turns out she was 100% correct, you couldn’t look at these guys without wanting to bludgeon your eyeballs.  AllAmerican and I realized the next day that we were pretty shit-canned off of not even close to as much liquor as we usually drink. But, TKM was extremely drunk, as evidenced by his behavior.  The next morning he had to work at 7 and kept running into the walls while getting ready, it was rather humorous.  For some reason, AllAmerican and I decided to call our work warehouse and leave messages analyzing each co-worker while drunk.  God knows what was going through our brain to come up with that idea.  But, we learned that on the voicemail, TKM definately granted AllAmerican permission to be late the next day. 

This was the first night we started breaking down everything said after each person told a story or joke.  It’s basically just an analysis of how the stories had a chance to be good, but sucked due to a certain reason.  Often times just using general categories, such as content, effort or delivery.  So, after someone tells an awful joke, but tried hard, we would call them out and be like good effort, but just an awful delivery.  When someone had all the elements for the story but just fucked it up or couldn’t get the point across (which happens surprisingly often).  Then, we’d say great content, but awful delievery.  Basically, it was just another way to call out and make fun of each other.  It was rather fun and caught on for the rest of the weekend.  

Side Note 63: Speaking of nothing better to do, each night I watch t.v. I see a preview for that movie 300.  But, I can’t figure out what it’s about and what the hell they are fighting for.  I still really want to see it.  It’s got all the elements, a lot of gore, battles and death, how can it not be a hit?

Another rant from Fritzagizard.  Rather humorous and shouldn’t just be wasted as a comment and instead qualifies for a post.  Meaning, since I’m only mostly writing Monday through Friday on here, I’m always looking for more funny material and willing to post other people’s stuff.

To Ladies-You are all fucking crazy. Every damn one of you. Don’t even begin to deny it. You are full of shit. And not some…ALL. You think guys who hit on you are creepy. Then don’t go to the bar like your trying to win a Jenna Jameson look-a-like contest…especially if you fat, that’s awful. Surprised when a guy hits on you when your tits are floppin out, your thong or lack there of is exposed and your grinding on your girlfriend like your seconds away from an orgasm…fuck you. You want to know the difference between creepy and nice…LOOKS. Brodie Jenner…Case and Point. If an ugly, no…I’ll go as far to say normal looking guy approached you in a bar said some of the things he said, you would be scared out of your mind. But he does it and he is some sort of fucking Cassanova…Talk about bullshit. And another thing…if some dumb whore tries to defend her gender with BS like guys are crazier than girls…Gimme a fucking break. You want to know why girls think guys are crazy…because we can’t pick up on any hints that you would call obvious. Whether they are subtle or obvious, men as a whole are too stupid to pick up on anything you hint towards, so if you want something from us, you better tell us, or it will not fucking happen. GET THAT THROUGH YOUR BRAIN. Lastly, quit getting pissed when we look at other women. It’s what we do. There are no feelings there…just sex. If you want your man to comment less on other women, starting blowing him on a more daily basis. Which brings me to my last and final point. No man in the world is nice just to be nice, men are only nice for sex. Whether it is a guy friend you’ve known for years or some random guy, he’s only being nice for the prospect of sex. Understand that and you will be forever enlightened. I would begin on the ridiculously stupid sluttly whores who go to dance clubs, but then I’d be writing for another hour and this comment is already too long.

In conclusion, on a crazy scale from 1-10, no women in the world scores less than a 3…It is not humanly possible. I’d say the mean lies right around 9.0 with a standard deviation of .5

The Wedding…Pity thank you’s from reading at the wedding.  I had to follow the best god damn speaker I know (NonBloodBro).  So, naturally mine looked awful, but everyone told me I did a great job.  Yeah, fuck you all, I know I sucked. 

TheMilf…TheMilf’s Dad at the rehearsal dinner comes up and asks TKM and her, if it was going to be a white wedding?  TheMilf responds with shut up dad, it hasn’t been white since I was 16.  Haha, wish I would have watched that live and seen her dad’s reaction/facial expresssions.

The reception…The wedding party got trashed on the party bus with Fritzagizard shoving the bottle of rum in people’s faces and forcing them to drink.  Admirable work, he’s learning from living with the best peer pressurer in the business.  At the wedding, for some reason none of us talked to the random hot girls that were there.  Instead, we decided that we would rather grind up on each other’s parents and sisters.  Which was all we did for the last 2+ hours.

Great Wall Post…Here’s what Fritzagizard’s little sister (Megan) wrote on my facebook wall the next day:
KATIE (MiniMiz’s little sister): “michael whose boobs are sticking out more mine or megans?”
MICHAEL (me): ” a. i can not believe you just asked me that question and i refuse to answer it… b. megan” 

Text Message…I love how text messages can help fill the voids of blackouts.  Hence, MiniMiz sending me the following the next morning.  “Hey…my bad dog…i over reacted, i apologize sorry i didn’t come out with you guys tonight! I really do have to get up early tomorrow.”  This was in response to him tweaking balls at me for clocking him in the penis right after someone else did it (the equivalent of MiniMiz just being a pussy).  I just thought for a good solid five minutes of what the equivalent of that would be and couldn’t come up with anything.  I’m pretty sure there isn’t one.

No Sex for You…Fritzagizard passed out at the reception in his general pussy fashion style in a kitchen area by the cereal.  Supposedly he was meating Boobies to have a sexual rendezvous and she never showed up.  Tough luck for both parties as she forgot and he passed out.

Random Extras…Version4.0 and I had a conversation on the phone the next morning, which involved only uhs and ohs, cause we were both too drunk to form sentences.  Something funny that needs to be known is that NonBloodBro took 7 shits the morning after.  Someone randomly stole a huge waffle iron from said kitchen where Fritzagizard was passed out.  Who fucking steals a waffle iron, I mean seriously.  God knows if he returned it, hopefully TwinKidMan didn’t get charged.

Burger King….BuiltLikeMachine’s wife drove us around after the bar, including a drunk stop at Burger King.  BuiltLikeMachine said when we got dropped off, I walked up to his passenger seat and didn’t say a word.  I then proceeded to take a bite of one of his chicken finger’s and then spit it back in his bag and walk away.

Lost my keys…So, to get into the building, AllAmerican went down the list, called 9 people and someone finally answered (my neigbor’s had to be irate getting calls at 3 in the morning).  Getting in was relatively painless and easy in retrospect.  I’m definately doing that the next time I get lost.  Sucks, to live in the same building with me.  As AllSunCurrent would say Ppsssittt.

Since, I’m stalling and trying to put together some decent wedding stories, today’s article is just an outline of a bunch of great links/quotes I found in the past week.  If people like this idea I can provide more links in the future.  But, before I get to the links, I did leave something out of yesterday’s story.  Turns out I just received a facebook message of another story from a girl I went out with.  “Ok, well this is a great one. See it starts off in your elevator (I think the one to the right) we are all waiting to get to your floor. Then you decide to hit every single button for every single floor. Funny to some (yes you got a few laughs) I was not one to laugh, so you asked me what my problem was. I told you I felt it was lame how you were waisting energy…and you basically told me ‘Oh so your one of those’. I guess I just thought it was a little lame.”  Haha, I definately blacked that story out and I so would get defensive if someone acted unimpressed by something I found funny.

1) The following link is something so small and yet I just feel like everyone should know.  http://biz.yahoo.com/prnews/070216/cgf020.html?.v=81

2) HogginBoy found quite the story… http://michael.moller.wasarrested.com/?loc=St.Paul&gen=m&story=11.  He had me confused for a second, that fucker. 

3) Miami’s Dwyane Wade also liked the idea of a comeback with the Heat. (referring to Scottie Pippen)

“I’m already playing with (Gary) Payton and Shaq, two guys I used to play with on video games,” Wade said. “To add Scottie Pippen to the mix, that would be crazy.”….Haha, you gotta love athletes, instead of complimenting what they’ve done or achieved in the sport, Dwayne Wade brings up the fact that he used to play with them on video games.  The link’s not even needed on this one as the article as a whole sucks.

4) “I’ve always been fabulous, I’ve always been over the top, I’ve always marched to my own beat.”  By Ms. New York from the show I Love New York, well at least she’s not full of herself.  Which brings up an interesting question is she hot enough to fuck?  I know any guy would drunk, but sober is the question, I think it’s a yes for most, especially if she passed her a.i.d.s. test before hand.  Another question, what the fuck is up with her push up bras in that show.  She goes from looking like having D’s to barely B’s during every episode.  It’s just outrageous.

5) Haha, Caleb Cooper from the O.C. was almost a gay butler.  When you’re old and bald, that’s what they give you,” he says. “I’m not going to be a juvenile lead, am I? I’m the go-to powerful guy. But I did have a role in a thing last year called Bow, which was a comedy pilot that didn’t ever get picked up, working with Bow Wow, the little rapper guy. I was playing his gay English butler. That was fun. I was really sorry that didn’t get picked up.”…So was I, nothing like ruining your career with an awful role like this.  http://www.nzherald.co.nz/section/1501119/story.cfm?c_id=1501119&objectid=10424025

6) And another funny link from HogginBoy. http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17261433/ Seriously, what the fuck is this man doing running around with a sword and how funny is it to envision this situation.  Oh yeah, and he still lives with his mom.  Sounds like he’s probably playing Magic the Gathering or Worlds of Warcraft on-line with Zippies.

7) Holy shit, the odds of this are ridiculous… http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17190964/?GT1=9033

And most importantly and lastly, Bill Simmons writes up on the past 72 hours he spent in Las Vegas during this past All Star Weekend.  I eventually stopped clipping parts of it because the article is so good.  But, let me warn you it’s a long read and yet well worth it if you have the time.    http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=simmons/070220

Here’s a great excerpt from it: To the Red Bull and vodka drink, which needs to be outlawed for everyone’s safety. If you drink more than four of them, smoke a couple of butts and stay out too late, there’s a 100 percent chance you’ll sleep for about three-and-a-half hours and wake up terrified because your heart is tap-dancing like one of the Hines brothers in your chest, complete with the requisite, “Good God, I think I’m going into cardiac arrest, this is what happened to Len Bias!” moment. Bad times. I’m predicting the first-ever celebrity heart attack from an overdose of Red Bull and vodka and cigarettes within the next two years.

And Another: To the NBA for graciously allowing me to tag along with the Commish at the NBA Jam Session on Thursday afternoon. (Note: I use the word “graciously” because I joked after the new ball fiasco and the Melo suspension that Stern was pulled over by police for being “drunk with power.” Either he didn’t know about this or he still hasn’t decided if he’s going to have me killed. We’ll soon find out.) Thanks to the unconscionable amount of time it took to get my news credentials at the MGM Grand — which, by the way, is the same size as downtown Boston at this point — I didn’t have time to scoot back to my hotel and change. I’d have to hang out with Stern in a hooded sweatshirt, sneakers and jeans. So when Stern finished a press conference, spotted me waiting for him and gave me the up-and-down, I knew the sarcastic barb was coming about an hour before he made it: “Thanks for dressing up!”

We chatted for a little bit and headed over to the NBA Pro Shop, where the Commish walked around, inspected the merchandise, posed for photographs and signed autographs while I stood there wondering if, now that Rodney Dangerfield is dead, Stern has become the most popular Jewish senior citizen on the planet. As it turns out, he’s currently ranked third behind Harrison Ford and Paul Newman. (All stats courtesy of the Elias Sports Bureau.) Anyway, he finished up there and we walked across the Jam Center discussing Vegas’ future as an NBA city (Stern seemed less than enthused, pointing out the city didn’t even have an arena yet), his ridiculously packed schedule for the next few days (he didn’t foresee sleeping that much, which wasn’t a big deal to him because he doesn’t require a ton of sleep) and the mildly rejuvenated Knicks (he seemed more relieved than anything), eventually leading to the following exchange:

–Me: Look, we need to talk about something … I need you to fix the lottery for the Celts like you did for the Knicks that time.

–Stern (grimacing, trying not to laugh): Stop it, just stop it.

–Me: No, seriously, we need Oden or Durant — can’t you freeze a ping-pong ball for us or something?

–Stern (shaking his head, waving at me in disgust): Come on … just stop it …

(Note: I’m almost positive he thought this was funny. I’ll let you know for sure in four days. You know, assuming he hasn’t had me killed. One more thing — following Stern around was an NBA employee whose sole job was to carry Stern’s four-day schedule around and make sure the Commish hit everything on time. Everything was mapped down out to the minute. The binder was about 20-25 pages long; they showed it to me for a split second before pulling it away and clubbing me over the head so I would forget its contents. Now I’m wondering why they don’t put that thing for sale on eBay after every All-Star Weekend. Wouldn’t you enjoy glancing through that thing hoping for entries like, “Friday, 3:00: Grit teeth, meet with Mark Cuban about the 2009 All-Star Game while fighting off the urge to stab him with a ball point pen”?)

He’s on fire, this article is a must read, I wish I wrote like him.

For three social trends that I noticed in Miami (for the Super Bowl) and Vegas last weekend:

1. A surprising number of people wear sunglasses at all times, even inside clubs so dark that people can barely see even if they’re NOT wearing sunglasses. I can’t figure this out. Maybe Jim McMahon was more ahead of his time than we realized.

2. Instead of playing full songs, clubs now play one-minute samples of songs and barrage you with choruses. I like this trend because you never know what’s coming next, although it’s depressing that our attention spans have been whittled down to the degree that clubs feel obligated to change songs every 60 seconds. Whatever.

3. Remember when Britney and Christina Aguilera ushered in the Let’s Dress Like Hookers Era, and attractive women across America stopped wearing bras — and eventually, underwear — followed by every married guy over 30 kicking themselves that they sowed their oats in the Let’s Wear Baggy Sweaters, Eat & Be Scared of AIDS Era? Well, like with all great eras, there’s been a massive backlash. Now women of all shapes and sizes wear clothes they shouldn’t be wearing, which means you’re about 100,000 times more likely to see saggy butt checks, exposed pot bellies, flabby arms and love handles than you were in 2001. It’s legitimately, unequivocally horrifying — a full-fledged onslaught against every man’s libido. Now I’m thinking that women should have to apply to dress like a hooker, then be forced to renew that license every two years like it’s a driver’s license. Let’s protect the country from itself. On the bright side, now that every female in Vegas dresses like a hooker, it’s impossible to tell the real hookers from the fake ones, which means we’ll probably have a Vegas-themed game show called “Hooker or Looker” some day.

Haha, he hates, my man Spencer from the Hills:

Clubs: Tough to get in without a connection, wildly expensive if you wanted to sit at a reserved table. For instance, Pure charged $1,000 for a reserved table and another $500 for every bottle ordered (vodka, whiskey, whatever). Now I hate Spencer from the “Hills” even more than I already did. How can anyone afford to party like this on an everyday basis?