The Winter Olympics started this weekend and women all over the world lost their shit. In what can only be described as a mix of a Taylor Swift concert with a Twilight premier combined with Brad Pitt sensibilities, Couples Figure Skaters engaged in the short program this weekend.
Husbands, boyfriends, and overzealous single men will be forced to “pay attention to how graceful that is” for the next fortnight. Known to some as the World Cup for Vaginas, Figure Skating is rocking the foundation of what is normal in everyday society.
Many men find they may feel like complete idiots for the next week or so. With no idea of how figure skaters are scored, men are relegated to such phrases as:
“Wow.”
“They really stuck that landing.”
“I can see that guy’s package.”
“Isn’t’ Project Runway on?”
Meanwhile, women will relay that that “Zayak Rule” disallows skaters from repeating the same triple or quadruple jump continuously in their free skating program.
Well, I have to go now. My petite female counterpart just polished off the last chicken wing and went into the bathroom with the Sunday paper. I’m off to do the dishes now. She doesn’t appreciate what I do around here anymore.
I can’t wait for baseball season.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Around the Association FebRUary 16
Well, we are sneaking up to trade deadline time. This usually means a great deal of rumors with most, if not all, never panning out. Some years, the trade deadline buzz flat out fails to deliver. It is following that same path this year. While talk of Amare to Cleveland or Ray Allen being exiled abound, we are left with some lack luster news. The Clippers got rid of Marcus Camby for Scott Blake and Travis outlaw.
While the trade does get the Blazers a Center that isn’t currently in crutches or naked on the internet, it doesn’t lift them in the playoff picture at all. From the Clippers standpoint…I actually stopped caring mid-sentence there.
Meanwhile some teams are on the hot seat to make a trade. Boston is going through some growing pains. They seem to be a bit old or dysfunctional to challenge for the title as they are currently designed. I guess things look that way when you lose half time leads to the lowly Hornets. They are kind of like Carrie Fisher in When Harry Met Sally. You could see the inevitable aging happen right on the screen. So it is with the Celtics. With every game, they are looking more and more like a middle-aged white woman.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Holla at yo Gout
As I mentioned in a previous post I hurt my toe somehow. Apparently, it was from years and years of eating meat and drinking beer. So I developed Gout.
The past few days I have been asked how you get gout. Well it's from being a fat ass. As if the smell of my chafing thighs and over sized t-shirts weren't a dead give away, I now have gout to illustrate that I don't take care of myself.
I am particularly stoked with the gout in that I have to actually explain it. I mean with adult onset diabetes and a milk shake in hand people don't usually ask the how's and why's. With gout its a brief description of my man tits followed by me pointing to my sore toe.
I always thought I would have a heart attack first, but no, I get a sore toe. I mean a heart attack is at least something people can have sympathy for. People visit you after a heart attack. People stare at you strangely with gout. Not quite the same.
Oh and I do need to explain that its not a sore toe in the sense that sore is the correct description. If there was a word that meant "felt like all the pain in the world was being placed inside a tiny joint while evil men beat up your mother and destroyed your Xbox in front of you and then called you saggy balls" then I would have used that word. As it is I will use sore. At one point I thought about boiling a pot of oil and submerging my nipple in it just to get my mind of of the whole thing. So if you see me on the street give me a hug. I may just be in pain.
The past few days I have been asked how you get gout. Well it's from being a fat ass. As if the smell of my chafing thighs and over sized t-shirts weren't a dead give away, I now have gout to illustrate that I don't take care of myself.
I am particularly stoked with the gout in that I have to actually explain it. I mean with adult onset diabetes and a milk shake in hand people don't usually ask the how's and why's. With gout its a brief description of my man tits followed by me pointing to my sore toe.
I always thought I would have a heart attack first, but no, I get a sore toe. I mean a heart attack is at least something people can have sympathy for. People visit you after a heart attack. People stare at you strangely with gout. Not quite the same.
Oh and I do need to explain that its not a sore toe in the sense that sore is the correct description. If there was a word that meant "felt like all the pain in the world was being placed inside a tiny joint while evil men beat up your mother and destroyed your Xbox in front of you and then called you saggy balls" then I would have used that word. As it is I will use sore. At one point I thought about boiling a pot of oil and submerging my nipple in it just to get my mind of of the whole thing. So if you see me on the street give me a hug. I may just be in pain.
The Do Ron-Ron
If you’re anything like me you have been waiting patiently for a blow up from Ron Artest. We were almost treated to one late last week. Ron-Ron took offense to being held up by Joey Graham and almost socked his face.
The above clip is particularly delightful for a number of reasons. My favorites are as follows:
Joel Myers reaction of “ooo” when Artest spun and fired the haymaker is priceless. In that instant he was really saying. “No Ron, for the love of god they will suspend you for the entire season!”
But what is magical is the debate between Stu Lantz, the color commentator for the Lakers and Joel Myers on why there was a technical. When Myers fails to illustrate that almost hitting someone with a closed fist isn’t enough, they decide it’s the playful shove of the face that did it in the end.
Either way I am now glued to the TV for every game, as I am sure Artest is one ticky-tack foul away from going mailman on everyone.
The above clip is particularly delightful for a number of reasons. My favorites are as follows:
Joel Myers reaction of “ooo” when Artest spun and fired the haymaker is priceless. In that instant he was really saying. “No Ron, for the love of god they will suspend you for the entire season!”
But what is magical is the debate between Stu Lantz, the color commentator for the Lakers and Joel Myers on why there was a technical. When Myers fails to illustrate that almost hitting someone with a closed fist isn’t enough, they decide it’s the playful shove of the face that did it in the end.
Either way I am now glued to the TV for every game, as I am sure Artest is one ticky-tack foul away from going mailman on everyone.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Toe Jam
So somehow I hurt my toe yesterday. It could have been the impromptu football session in the afternoon or it could be early onset old age. Either way, I awoke this morning by a severe pain in my right big toe. Those that know me will rightly assume that I tried with all my will to go back to bed. A good nap after all is only second to a good buffet in my book.
Well the toe pain was too intense to sleep and I later found too intense to walk or drive so I stayed home.
The funniest part of the day was when I stubbed the already injured toe on a shoe in my bedroom. I took the next ten minutes to chastise the shoe for being a fucking idiot.
Runner-up was the reaction my boss had to me telling him I hurt my toe. Honestly, who calls in with a toe injury. I almost thought of faking a rotator-cuff pull but then thought better of it. So here I am one shoe on, one shoe off, knee deep in pain killers.
The true shit of the matter is I have ice cream in the fridge but I can't walk to go get it. Sometimes I really do believe there is a god, because this just too good to be coincidence.
Well the toe pain was too intense to sleep and I later found too intense to walk or drive so I stayed home.
The funniest part of the day was when I stubbed the already injured toe on a shoe in my bedroom. I took the next ten minutes to chastise the shoe for being a fucking idiot.
Runner-up was the reaction my boss had to me telling him I hurt my toe. Honestly, who calls in with a toe injury. I almost thought of faking a rotator-cuff pull but then thought better of it. So here I am one shoe on, one shoe off, knee deep in pain killers.
The true shit of the matter is I have ice cream in the fridge but I can't walk to go get it. Sometimes I really do believe there is a god, because this just too good to be coincidence.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
LOST
Today everyone is losing their shit. I can see the reason to a point. Lost is a great show but the premise is starting to wear thin with me. A show that makes me feel like a five year-old after every episode, sign me up! I'm asking the most inane questions ten minutes later. Why is there a polar bear on the island? Why does the island move? Why does Sawyer get to bang everyone? How come I can smell Hugo from here? Oh, thats me.
Despite my frustrations LOST has proven that Science Fiction can rule the ratings if you use it in moderation and overlay every episode in more secrets than discoveries.
I go into this season with little to no hopes that any questions will actually be answered. That way I can come out of this in 16 weeks with a smile and knowledge that the writers did not best my expectations. In all reality, I will most likely be cursing at the TV as vital plot points are ignored and Sawyer defiles another Lostee. Maybe Rose, the country needs it.
Despite my frustrations LOST has proven that Science Fiction can rule the ratings if you use it in moderation and overlay every episode in more secrets than discoveries.
I go into this season with little to no hopes that any questions will actually be answered. That way I can come out of this in 16 weeks with a smile and knowledge that the writers did not best my expectations. In all reality, I will most likely be cursing at the TV as vital plot points are ignored and Sawyer defiles another Lostee. Maybe Rose, the country needs it.
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