Wednesday, July 29, 2009


Ok, so the Meathead Challenge has not been going so well as I am struggling to even get up to 275 consistently in the ol' bench press department, let alone coming close to 315. Soooo, f that. I'll still be hitting the gym on the reg, but the challenge is over because I'm going to do a cycle of the juice. Yep. The roids. Just for the hell of it. Should be fun!

Anyway, the LA Fitness seems to contain a large amount of a breed of people that you don't usually see in such large packs in real's almost like a zoo of sorts. But even in the zoo, some of the animals do not abandon their natural instincts.

Like the dudes who do their workouts with their hair fully gelled and slicked back, like Gordon fucking Gekko or something. Yo, dude, could you spot me? And then maybe take a quick look at my stock portfolio? What the hell is wrong with these people? I just can't see how a regular person can decide, you know, it's time to go do some lat pull-downs. Shirt? Check. Sweet tank, dude! Sweatpants? Fuck yeah! Oh...gotta slick back the hair! Lookin' good, Vito! NOW LET'S GET ON THAT ROW MACHINE!

I also saw a chick working it out with a 20 ounce bottle of Coke. The liquid version, that is. Just felt the need to qualify that after the previous description. Now, if I did that, I would be sick as hell and feeling like the I had the bends after being pulled up out of 10,000 feet of water or something. But somehow this lady just kept doing leg curls between sips of fucking Coke. I really, really hope for her sake that she's diabetic. Well, I mean, I don't actually hope that she's diabetic, know what I mean. Fucker.

Another thing I can't stand are the people who lift in freaking metal clasp watches. Take your watch off, dickhead! You aren't at work. A $400 Citizen watch does not go well with a Nike Dri-Fit cut off t-shirt. It just doesn't. It would be like wearing a Scottish kilt with mandals. Such a faux pas. Is it douche-thirty yet?

And some of these girls in here are definitely part of the all-you-can-rape buffet. I really just want to dress up like RuPaul and sit around in the women's locker room for an hour or two. But some of these bitches need to fucking eat NOW. If I run into one of them at a bar, I'm not going to buy them a drink. I'm going to buy them a sandwich. Hey about a BLT for the young lady over there? She'd probably eat it will immediately doing a set of lunges. I'm afraid that if I spike one of these girls' drinks and bring her back home that I might break her. And then I'd feel too bad about it to deny anything when she came to.

I'm also intrigued by the attire of some of these ladies. Most of the dudes just wear normal shirts and shorts/pant to workout. But no, not these women. Some fuckbortion of black and neon, inevitably. And straps and holes and fucking clasps and what the hell is wrong with you bitches? Is there an American Gladiators store near by? Should I just call you Electra?

Most of the ladies there seem to be easily offended. No, random woman, I was not serious when I said after doing some sets on an ab machine that "this is what an abortion must feel like". Maybe if you'd stop getting pregnant you'd be able to take jokes better. Me and the easily offended do not coexist well.

There is, however, one dude who seriously rapes the decency of gym attire right in it's unwilling mouth. This little Spanish dude is always wearing the SAME FUCKING short-ass shorts that barely go to the top of his legs. SAME PAIR! And he's there like, every freaking day. Pretty much the same shirt, too. Maybe he rotates between two or three. Regardless, I want to buy him some shorts. Does he do laundry every day after he gets home? Or does he just not care about wearing what must be by now the dirtiest clothes in the entire state of South Florida (yes, it is its own state)? There are a few who wear similar attire, but none anywhere near this frequently. God, are the Meat Gayzer.

So f all of that, I'm starting my cycle and forming MUSCLE CLUB. All members must wear their MUSCLE CLUB AHHHHHH! shirts to the gym on ALL OCCASIONS! No exceptions will be made. Repeat violations will result in your dismissal from Muscle Club.

You have been warned.

Friday, July 24, 2009

The meeting

Ok,'s the day, Roger. Big meeting. Gotta do something strong here. Assert yourself. Solidify your position. Judge, jury and motherfucking executioner. Oh, damn...gotta hide this erection, too.

Mr. Goodell...Michael Vick is here to see you.

Damn it, damn it...fine, fine. Ok. Send him up.

Hello, Mr. Goodell. I brought a dog with me to show how much I love them. I'm a changed man. I'm like an ugly dog killing caterpillar that metamorphicasized into a beautiful, dog-loving butterfly. I'm contrite as fuck right now.

Michael, not only is metamorphicasized not a word...caterpillars can't kill dogs. I don't think. I mean, I only went to W&J, but I did graduate.

It's just a saying, sir. I've never been a caterpillar, nor am I a butterfly. I'm just a man who really loves dogs.

I'm aware, just trying to make conversation.

(Fights back weird urge, face gets red)

That is a nice dog, sir.

Thank you. You really like the Wall Street Journal.

It's a good read.

I bet it is. Too bad you can't buy stock in interstate gambling rings, eh?

(awkward forced laughter)

(laughs awkwardly as well)

Ha. Yeah. Well, listen Mike, you know why we are here. I've thought about this long and hard, just like I do in all disciplinary cases brought forth to me. In fact, I thought about this one twice as long. AT LEAST 20 minutes. And...well, I've decided to....(fights weird urge again, face gets redder)

You've decided to what, something wrong?

No, no...I'm fine. I'm fine.

(takes deep breath)

Mr. Vick, I've decided to suspend...oh God...I've decided to sus...fuck....

(turns bright red, gets bitter look on face)

Mr. Commish...are you alright? How long am I suspended? Are you gonna make it?

I've decided to suspend you for...oh my God oh my God oh my Goddddd....I've decided to suspend you...for....the first 4 games of the upcoming season...

OHHHHHH! Oh man! OHHHH! Wow! Oh jeezzzz....oh my God...whoa....ahhhhh.

(exhales and slumps in chair)

Sir...did you just jizz in your pants?

Fuck yeah, I jizzed. Holy hell, that was a good one. I need to call Jane.

Yes, sir?

Jane, I'm gonna need some new pants. I just suspended Vick for 4 games.

Even after he'd been imprisoned for two years?

Hell yeah. I couldn't help myself, I jizzed all over the place.

Oh my, Sheriff Goodell...I think I'm getting a bit...FUCK ME NOW, ROGER.

You know I love it when you call me Sheriff. Come to my office.

Is this a fucking joke?

We're done, Vick. 4 games. You tell anybody about this and I'll fucking suspend you for life. Oh God...I'm fucking hard again.

(shoots off fake guns)

Pow, pow! Sheriff Goodell is back, baby! WOOO! Now get the fuck out of here, Vick!

(Opens door naked)

You can put it wherever you want, Rog!

Now you're speaking my language.

(Starts fucking secretary on desk)

This is ridiculous. Whatever.

(leaves Goodell's office)

Thanks a lot, dog. I still got four games. Imma fuck you up when we get home.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

So...Ben Roethlisberger raped a chick

Ok, so, let me throw a few things out there. I am not pro-rape. I'm sure rape is no fun, even if it's committed at a really fun place like a waterpark or a Gymboree. I'm not attempting to become the blog that people seek out when they want to read about recent rapes and how awesome they were.

But...I'm still a bit skeptical that this chick was raped.

The ProFootballTalk write-up is located at this link.

So...let's ignore the whole "this happened a year ago...only a civil digger!" angle. That's the amateur angle, and ever since I took like $10 to put an ad on this page, I've decided that I am certainly not a fucking amateur anymore. I'm a God-damned professional. These words do whatever I tell them to do, almost like I'm raping the freaking keyboard. So I'm going to allow the others to tackle that.

I'm going to focus on the actual raping. I've never raped, but if so...I like to think I wouldn't fuck it up like some drunk dumbass in the basement of a frat house. So let's take a look at the specifics of the case as told by the rapee, Ms. Andrea McNulty.

Roethlisberger showed her the television that was malfunctioning, located in suite's bedroom. Using the remote, she determined that there was no problem with the television or the sound system.

No point here other than mentioning that you sure are a smooth one, Ben.

"Hey nurse, I'm having a hard time jizzing..."

"Ok....let me jack you off and we'll see what the problem is. Hey, you just jizzed!"

"Oh...looks like you fixed me!"

She claims that, as she tried to leave the room, Roethlisberger blocked her path, and that he "grabbed [her] and started to kiss her."

Again, the smoothest. This is probably what Joe Namath was like back in 1970.

McNulty admits that she didn't try to fight Roethlisberger, citing his size and strength. She claims that she "communicated her objection and lack of consent," and that he nevertheless began "fondling [her] through her dress and between her legs."

Hey, you are a big guy, so I'm not going to stop you from raping me...but just remember, I am NOT liking this, ok sir!

Come on now...who just sits there and takes it while they are being raped and not under the influence of any drugs? I'm getting way too rapey on this blog.

She claims that he pushed her onto the bed, and despite her alleged protests he "pulled her underpants off and proceeded to penetrate her."

Now, ok. Again, I'm not experienced in the field of rape. But is it this fucking easy? Just pull 'em off and start penetrating? I have a hard enough time doing that during a consensual encounter. Was she all aroused for this or something? Does her vagina look like a map of Algeria? You can't just pull 'em off and go, right?

McNulty claims that she told him, "You don't want to do this." She also claims that she said, "Please don't," and that she told him she was not on any type of birth control.

You don't want to rape me, Benjamin! Especially since I'm not on birth control!

Come on now. Don't rape me because I'm not on birth control? It just seems so Kobe, since this chick is suing 9 other people and just got out of some psychiatric counseling that she underwent after having a relationship of sorts with a married man and it's's just so Kobe. And I don't think for a second that Kobe raped that chick. Especially since his TV was working fine the entire time.

She claims that he said in response, "Don't worry, I'll pull out," which he ultimately did.

If I ever rape, I'm definitely not going to do it like Roethlisberger. How calm and reassuring..."don't worry, I'll pull out....for you". Ben Roethlisberger is like the Kent Graham of raping.

At that point, he allowed her to get off the bed. McNulty claims that she went to the bathroom, and "tried to pull herself together." When she emerged, she claims that Roethlisberger asked, "There are cameras on this room, aren't there?"

Oh God, Ben. This can't be true. "Hey chick I just raped...are there cameras in the room?"...of course there aren't, Ben! You can't have cameras in the room. But what if there are...are you going to unrape her? This chick is either making this up or Ben Roethlisberger is seriously the world's worst rapist.

She responded by saying, "Yes, there are cameras everywhere."

McNulty alleges that he then seem worried, and that his tone became "stern."

"If anyone asks you, you fixed my television," he allegedly said. "You fixed my television. Now go!"

Did he say that last statement in a renaissance accent? YOU FIXED MY TV! THAT'S IT! I NEVER RAPED YOU EVEN IF IT'S ON CAMERA!

I guess we'll know more about all this as the case progresses and McNulty's other 9 pending lawsuits clear up, but...I'm kind of skeptical. It just doesn't really add up for me. Guess I've got a lot to learn about rape.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Picking an XBox Live name

So, you want to get on XBox Live, huh? Want to test your motherf-in' Parappa the Rapper skills with Vern, eh? If you are anything like the majority of current XBox Live users, you will do so with one of the fucking gayest usernames possible. How so many people can all achieve such gayness is beyond me, but there it is.

We've seen gay AIM names, sure. But not this gay. Most people had a play on their name or used their age or their hometown or had some variant of the word "princess" in their name, but it still didn't approach the gayness of XBox Live names. And while something like World of Warcraft probably elicited the same gay usernames, it's just not as mainstream as XBox Live, and so I'm not giving it the same standing.

Because XBox Live has some really fucking gay gamertags. Or should I say...GAYmertags!!! HA! Pour that Lolgers in your cup!

It really breaks down into two groups of gays, the Cockloving Mages and the Gay Seven-Year Olds.

The Cockloving Mages consist of all of those people who try too hard to sound all killer and badass, yet, in the end, come off as a sort of goth type that love touching flaccid penises and watching them grow. You know, trying way too hard to sound like an awesome killer of other players.


Wizard of Justice
Pwner of a Lonely Heart

...ok, that's a lie. Pwner of a Lonely Heart would be a fucking awesome name.

And then there are the kids who yell and scream during the loading sequences with names that are usually just random adjectives thrown in front of a noun.


....well, no. Again, the last one would be awesome. Imagine everybody on your team yelling at you that someone is behind you. I TOUCH KIDS! I TOUCH KIDS! I would never stop laughing. Ever. I'd still be laughing even after my grandparents were killed by sharks. And I hate sharks.

So get in the game, homos. There are plenty of good gamertags still available.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Crushing the horseperson dream

The man above is Kansas senator and all-around crazyperson Sam Brownback, who hates abortion with the passion of a hundred ethnic cleansings. Sam Brownback hates abortion so much that he wouldn't even want to abort a gay fetus. Because gay fetuses, although gay, are people, too.

Well, Brownback's latest target are human-animal hybrids, such as mermaids, horsepeople, and birdafricans. And he has a surprise partner in crime...Louisiana democrat Mary Landrieu, who was probably elected solely on the fact that she has a French sounding Cajun name.

Let's get to work.

WASHINGTON – U.S. Senator Sam Brownback today with Senator Mary Landrieu (D-LA) introduced the Human-Animal Hybrid Prohibition Act of 2009.

Yeah, I already covered that, but thanks.

“This legislation works to ensure that our society recognizes the dignity and sacredness of human life,” said Brownback. “Creating human-animal hybrids, which permanently alter the genetic makeup of an organism, will challenge the very definition of what it means to be human and is a violation of human dignity and a grave injustice.”

You know, I get that there are some weird movements (warning: watch yourself on that crazy website) to actually seriously create horsepeople and cowmexicans, but how prominent is this movement? And why do we need to pat ourselves on the back for passing this bill? Was it really hard to convince Congress that "you know, a vote against the Brownback-Landrieu Horsepeople Bill is a vote FOR daughter-raping businesstigers"? What's next? Is Barney Frank going to introduce a bill prohibiting using racial slurs as names for national grocery chains? Maybe David Vitter will introduce legislation curtailing the growing jizz-flinging epidemic. Oh, wait...Oregon already did that.

The Human-Animal Hybrid Prohibition Act would ban the creation of human-animal hybrids. Human-animal hybrids are defined as those part-human, part-animal creatures, which are created in laboratories, and blur the line between species.

Right, horse-people. Lion-grandmas. Grasshopper-fetuses. All handcrafted from stem-cells that were blatantly tortured right in front of God.

The bill is modest in scope and only affects efforts to blur the genetic lines between animals and humans. It does not preclude the use of animals or humans in legitimate research or health care where genetic material is not passed on to future generations, such as the use of a porcine heart valve in a human patient or the use of a lab rat with human diseases to develop treatments.

Or the use of a horse-hoof on a footless person, or a donkey cock on an Asian man. Those uses are still ok.

Brownback continued, “This legislation is both philosophical and practical as it has a direct bearing upon the very essence of what it means to be human, and it draws a bright line with respect to how far we can go in attempting to create new creatures made with genes from both humans and animals.

It's also as retarded as the day is long. Brownback left that part out of the official press release.

Seriously, people? Do we need legislation for this? Not that I really care, but...seriously?

“My background is in agriculture, and for a number of years we have been working with crops and animals to produce a superior soy bean, a superior cow, and so-on. We can genetically engineer safe products and herds that are disease resistant or that possess more desirable attributes. But doing this in plants and livestock is very different than doing this in humans.

"For years I have been using animal genes to grow horsebeans. But I absolutely draw the line at growing people from these beans".

“The issue is that when you make changes in the germ-line, such changes are passed along to one’s offspring. You could make a change now that could be passed along through the gene-pool for the rest of humanity. We do not know what the full effect of this could be, and it could be disastrous.

Yes, because, I mean, you could make people part-peregrine falcon. I don't think that too many people out there think that would be a good idea.

“Tampering with the human germ-line could be the equivalent to setting a time-bomb that might detonate many generations down the line; but once it is set, there is no reversing course.

As opposed to regular time-bombs, in which case after they explode, you can usually just kind of undo it and take it back.

Did he just fucking say "time-bomb"? Who sponsored this bill, Inspector Gadget?

“I am optimistic that our nation we will make a sound choice for the generations to come. Already, in Louisiana last month, Governor Jindal signed legislation into law that would prohibit the creation of human-animal hybrids. That law is modeled after earlier versions of the legislation that we introduce today.”

SO YOU DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING!!!! You just copied Bobby Jindal's horseperson bill.

The only thing I hate more than epically retarded legislation is LAZY epically retarded legislation.

Mainly, I'm kind of pissed that I lost any opportunity to have a future horsecock transplant.

Finally, here is a list of retards:

The following senators are orginal co-sponsors: Senators Sam Brownback (R-KS), Mary Landrieu (D-LA), Jim Bunning (R-KY), Richard Burr (R-NC), Saxby Chambliss (R-GA), Tom Coburn (R-OK), Bob Corker (R-TN), John Cornyn (R-TX), Jim DeMint (R-SC), John Ensign (R-NV), Lindsey Graham (R-SC), James Inhofe (R-OK), Mike Johanns (R-NE), Jon Kyl (R-AZ), Mel Martinez (R-FL), John McCain (R-AZ), James Risch (R-ID), John Thune (R-SD), David Vitter (R-LA), George Voinovich (R-OH), and Roger Wicker (R-MS).

So what did Mary Landrieu really do other than be a Democrat? As a subject of Louisiana governor Bobby Jindal, did she just kind of sneak into the state offices and steal the existing bill? Or was mentioning her in the header just the latest in a stupidly transparent attempt to think that our worthless elected officials are working together in a bi-partisan effort to make lasting, effective legislation? I'm going with the latter.

When we are at a point where a Democrat signing onto a Republican's bill that bans human fucking animal hybrids is considered an important bi-partisan effort, then we have much bigger problems than a few goose-people flying around.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009


Yeah, Air McNair was shot to death by perhaps a jilted 20-year old lover or maybe a friend of the 20-year old chick or maybe even a fucking ninja for all we know right now. And it was crazy. True warriors who just win don't get shot every major holiday, you know. This is not what the founding fathers had in mind when they originally decided to get all independent in this shizz.

But, police recently showed that they are not playing around here with this case and uncovered some very damning evidence against an ex-boyfriend of the 20-year old girl...A RAP SONG WITH KILLING LYRICS IN IT!

Now I don't want to be one to jump to retarded conclusions here, because I have no idea what happened and this Norfleet guy could have killed both McNair and Nicole Kazemi and JonBenét Ramsey for all I know. But how are these "chilling" lyrics "eerily similar to McNair's murder"?

Here are the lyrics:

"I don’t wanna be like this
I don’t really wanna hurt no feelings
But I’m only being real when I say
Nobody wanna see an old man collapse
And old men have heart attacks
I don’t wanna be responsible for that
So let the s**t go and walk away
You can still have a little bit of dignity"

“I would never claim to be no
Benjamin Tebow, an 83-Year old fake Pacino
So how could he run his mouth about me
Knowing nothing about me

I love it when a dumbass doubts me
Until I pull the pistol out proudly
Put the clip in his mouth
Til this motherf***er shouts, ‘please don’t kill’
Have you sippin through a straw for the next 8 months
That’s if you even make it through it alive you dumb f**k

Try to stunt and front and fronting in front of somebody else
Til you're surrounded by 20 people With nobody’s help
IF you try to go incredible hulk it won’t work
Put so many holes in you your nerves won’t even jerk
Lurking in the shadows thinking and scheming of work
Got a little cocky so you decided to flirt
Now you’re flirting with death"

The final verse in the song set to Eminem's "Nail in the Coffin" instrumental track is as follows;

"If you ever do it again b***h I’m not rapping
I’m getting a clip and clapping and I’m not laughing
They’re wrapping you up for your little trip to the morgue
While I’m preparing for my trip to the shore,
Don’t ignore me, I’m not lying, I couldn’t be more honest
If you ever do it again, you’ll die, I promise.”

Uh....huh? Because he said old man? He said he was going to die of a heart attack or something? This is weaksauce, The Internet. Come on. This doesn't prove anything. It's a fucking RAP SONG! It's supposed to talk about killing people! Have any of you people listened to rap in the past 3,000 years?

I imagine we will be arresting DMX for the Black Dahlia murder, Young Jeezy for JFK's assassination, and hell, Eric Clapton for the murder of the Pittsburgh police officers? Jeez. And what the hell would this guy be trying to prove with this song, entitled "Closed Casket"? Does it show the depths of his true love for Kazemi? "I love you bitch, but if you ever cheat on me with a retired NFL QB again I will fucking kill something with a gun"?

Let me show you rap lyrics to which the phrase "eerily similar to McNair's death" would be applicable:

Yo mothercocksuckers I don't wanna do this shizz
But I'm gonna have to make this point to this bitch
If you keep running 'round Nashville with Steve McNair
I'm gonna frame a murder-suicide with you and Steve McNair
Then there won't be anymore fucking Steve McNair
Just you lying dead there with Steve McNair
And everyone will think you killed yourself and Steve McNair
I think the Ultimate Warrior's clothing looked like sleeves with hair

Yo bittttttch, if you keep fuckin' old retired NFL QBs that played with the Oilers, Titans and Ravens
I'm gonnnnna motherfuckinnnn killlllll youuuuuuu and him too
But I'll make it look like I didn't do it

(verse 2)
Yo, 4 bullet holes to that number 9 jersey
One to your head, yes, this assassins for dummies book's working
Lay the bodies out on the couch and the floor
30 minutes later, call police to the door
60 minutes later, put some tweets on Twitter
80 minutes later jack off till it blisters
Two hours later put a rap on Myspace
Cause I killed Steve McNair, good luck with that case

Yeah. THAT guy killed Steve McNair. Fuck it...I killed Steve McNair. Did you see that song I just wrote? I fucking did it. Let me write some more lyrics:

I'm teabaggin' sluts, I can't put my balls away
Reminds me of that time I kidnapped Natalee Holloway

Yeah, I know how to handle a cold fifth
Kinda like when I suffocated Anna Nicole Smith

Ask the questions, you know I got the answers
I'm the one that gave Ulysses S. Grant cancer

The hoes are the game, and I know how to play
Until I blatantly injected Eazy-E with AIDS

I'm a baaaaaad man.

Monday, July 6, 2009

I still have enough money to hate Rick Reilly

That's right, Rick. Not even identity theft can make me forget how much I hate you and the senseless tripe that you try to continually pass off as a million-dollar column. I think you should consider getting tuberculosis.

Here's Reilly's latest "effort", in which he used stale played-out jokes to fix the recession.

This Great Recession is on us like a golf club head cover. Every direction you look, blackness. I meet people every day who are working twice as hard for half the pay in offices that would make a morgue look cheery.

They probably work on Wall Street. If so, they should be working for half of the pay they used to receive. I, on the other hand, have not met a single person who is working twice as hard for half the pay, but then again I have not looked in a complete 360-degree direction recently.

It's tough. It's brutal. It's depressing. And that's just the break-room fridge.

Rick have a comedic gift. Of course, I guess some people refer to herpes as a gift as well, so that might not be saying much.

But I have a solution. What offices need right now is a little bit of sports.

Perfect. This will certainly help people feed their kids, right? I mean, this has to work.

If there's one thing games teach us, it's to buck up, dig in and hold on. That's what we cherish about sports -- the faith that no matter how bad things suck, eventually you're going to win. How else do you explain Cubs fans?

Cubs fan joke! I love it! Sports does do this. For example, Red Sox fans had the same thought before their team won it all in 2004. Which goes to show, sure you may have some problems, but it may only take 86 years for them to ameliorate themselves!!! YAY!

For instance, what if -- like in hockey -- the boss picked the three stars of the day? And those three people came out of their cubicles and did a little spin around the main lobby carpet while the other employees banged their staplers on their desks in approval?

Oh my God! This would only get tired after...once! This would be so cool. I can't wait. How about we have office fights, too? Or, I know, every couple years we go up to a co-worker and slash them in the throat with a skate! IT WOULD BE SO HOCKEY!

What if the office had chest bumps and shaving-cream pies and everybody slapping the Work Like a Champion Today sign over the door on the way in?

Wow! It would make the office EVEN GAYER!

The first person in this office to hit me with a fucking shaving cream pie is going to get beat so hard that they could do Shamwow commercials.

And office chatter!

C'monKidHeyKidOnlyTakesOneBuyerKidOnlyTakesOneYouAndHerKidRightOnThe DottedLineKid.

Words can not describe how not funny this is. I believe this is on par comedically with full-blown AIDS, devastating earthquakes, and The Holocaust. Why was this article greenlighted? This is an assault on comedy. Rick Reilly should probably be arrested for writing this and cashing the check that he received for doing so. In fact, it would probably help ease the recession a bit.

What if every accounting office came with cheerleaders?

Two, Four, Six, Eight!

What Do We Depreciate?

Corporate-Owned Vehicles!

Or, what if that didn't happen and I wasn't forced to kill anybody in this office with lockcutters? If failed attempts at humor caused water to evaporate, then Rick Reilly would have some serious explaining to do about the Aral Sea.

Everything we need to know about the economic recovery we learned in sports: Back each other up, hustle for everything, and get it back one score at a time.

Right now, I am thanking the Lord Jesus Christ that Rick Reilly is not an economist. Did Obama start taxing successful humor or something?

The office needs hotfoots and butt slaps and Gatorade showers. And a room where people can go and bust the bejesus out of a cheap toilet with a bat every once in a while, just to get it out of their system.

That would be terrible for office productivity, Rick. Listen, I have to wear nice shirts to work. The first person to dump Gatorade on one of them is getting face-raped.

When a really great secretary hits 65 and has to go, why not retire her number?

Dolores Ginty, no one will ever use extension 3713 again. It's yours forever!

Because Dolores Ginty doesn't give the slightest of fucks about the extension 3713.

Like baseball, firms should have some political bigwig come and throw out the first pitch of the day.

Mrs. Finsterwald? This is Governor Bloom. How would you like to own a vacuum that could change your life?

Holy hell. Just shut the fuck up already. This kind of writing makes Natalee Holloway disappear.

Work needs Rings of Fame along the office walls and tailgating instead of lunchrooms. At the end of the day, everybody makes human tunnels for everybody else to run through. Orange slices now and again would be nice too. When the big sales drive starts, guys should grow playoff beards and women should stop shaving their legs, and everybody should start wearing their Jason Giambi lucky gold lamé thong and refuse to take it off until we're back in the black.


There's nothing better in golf than a good caddie, right? So why can't businesspeople have them?

All right, Mr. Grey, here comes the big client and his wife. Don't forget, she's been on that Oreo diet, so tell her she looks like she lost some weight. And remember, he can't hear out of his left ear, so stay right. You TOTALLY got this!

Uhhh, they do. We just don't call them caddies. Do you think people in offices just meet other people with no knowledge about them at all? "Hey, Mr. Grey, remember that he's black, so no sickle-cell jokes, ok?".

Tiger Woods wears red on Sundays for low numbers. Businesspeople need to start wearing green on Fridays for cash. And if they sign the big deal, let's watch it again on instant replay!

Or we could wear purple on Thursday so we feel like kings. And maybe gay people could wear blue on Tuesday because they like dudes. And we could wear black the entire month of February for Black History Month. Really, this will save America.

Look, we Americans are as resilient as Slinkys. As a country, we are too young and bouncy to let this get us down much longer. This is a time to turn our hats around backward and bring out our rally monkeys and start rattling the window shades. Don't make fewer business trips, make more! Don't buy less stock, buy more! Every office needs an organist playing "Charge!"

We can't afford to fly, so let's fly more! We can't afford to walk, so let's run! We can't afford condoms, SO LET'S FUCK EVERYBODY IN THE OFFICE!!!!

Think like athletes. Write "No Prisoners" on the soles of your shoes. Ask each other for autographs. And at the end of the month, put together a "One Shining Moment" highlight reel. Then, somebody, pull out the softball cooler of beer.

I autograph enough stuff every day. I refer to it as my "signature".

Pretty soon, as sure as cops love doughnuts, this will turn around. And we'll be using sports stuff we never thought we'd use.

HA! Cops and donuts! Hey, sure as little Vietnamese children make shoes for 20 cents a day, we are going to get out of this hole! And as sure as all Chinese people look the same and have tiny cocks, we're gonna make some fucking money!

Hey, nobody talk to Achmed. He's made a sale on every call so far today! Don't jinx it!

He's sold eight vacuums today!

Maybe if all you are doing is cold-calling, you could save some money by not having an office?

When everybody gets their job back and unemployment in this country is once again under 5%, here's what I'll do: If you see me in a bar, I'll buy you a jigger of your favorite adult beverage. But you get only 24 seconds once I walk in.

After all, I've got a shot clock.

HA! That's so...nonsensical. This is honestly one of the dumbest things that I've ever seen Rick Reilly write, and that really is saying something.

Rick, I'd take your drink, but I'm not able to hold it in my hands. Because I'm carrying a fucking basketball right now. Maybe next time.

Who else was identity thefted yesterday?

Wow, nice system font, Lifelock. Classy.

So....wait, I was the only one who had $1,300 of unauthorized purchases made yesterday on my Paypal account? 17 separate instances of mailings being made through USPS all from the same street adress but in different cities? Yeah...that is correct. All on the same address (eg 48 Jizzcow St) but in 17 different cities. Because that's just how I roll.

So, I called up Paypal and Bank of A today and found that I should get the money back eventually BUT it could take up to 10 days, which wouldn't be a problem if I weren't, like, poor. This playa has bills to pay, alright? Those hookers aren't going to take my payments on a credit basis which means that I was just effectively sentenced to 10 days of flaccidity.

Spirits are ok now, as I plan on recouping the fees from the pencils I supposedly mailed to Kyrgyzstan. But if I don't get the money back shortly, my outlook will change and I will be going all Steve McNair on motherfuckers. And no one wants that.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Sports v. Real Life

Above is Clint Benedict. He'll come into play shortly.

So, on the Tuesday (6/30) jeopisode of Jeopardy, there was a question about hockey entitled "The Puck Stops Here". And, you know, it's Jeopardy, so the questions have to be a bit difficult, right? At least something like "this Quebecois Queocksucker scored a fuckton of goals and was nicknamed 'Rocket'". Not the hardest question for a hockey follower, but something of moderate difficulty that wouldn't be answerable to any children's book author from Massachusetts or anything.

But noooooo, they ask dickbag questions like, 'the Montreal Canadiens play hockey in this syrup-covered country', and 'hockey is played on frozen water, also known as this'. F that. That's gay. So here are the questions, from a site called J-Archive, which is also the name I have given to the list of phone numbers that I call when I want some chick to come over and casually blow me:

After stopping a puck with his face in 1930, Clint Benedict became the first NHL goalie to wear one of these.

Hmmm...I have no fucking clue!!!! What the hell would an NHL goalie wear on his face after getting hit with a puck? Is there something that I don't know about Clint Benedict? Did he wear mascara? Or shave his eyebrows or something? What is the question, Trebek???

"What is a mask", says children's book author Tui Sutherland. I would have gone with "What the fuck?", but that's just me.

$400, Alex!

Goalies have only done this 11 times in NHL history.

You know what? I'm ok with this one. It's difficult enough to be a $400 question on Jeopardy, a game in which categories about Britain ask you who the fucking king was in the year 849 and categories about baseball ask if players typically wear gloves or not.

"Score a goal!" Good job, Nina.


When a goalie stops a shot on goal, he gets credit for one of these, like a relief pitcher in baseball.

Oh my God. Seriously? You are offering $600 to anyone with sufficient hockey knowledge to answer this question? That would be like picking a category about composers, getting a Daily Double, wagering half of your winnings, and getting "This composer, who wrote the 'Paris Symphony', had a name that rhymed with Bolfgang Pozart"'. If you were into classical music, you'd probably immediately leave the studio, fly to Barrow, Alaska, and start killing eskimos. Just brutally and systematically murdering every eskimo you saw with no respect at all for their heritage. Because you would be appalled that they would actually deign to ask you such a ridiculously simple question.

Anyway, Tyrone agrees with me and buzzes in to put this to rest.

"What is a strike?"

Holy fuck, Tyrone. What is a horse-fucking moron, maybe? I don't care if you don't watch hockey...who would see a goalie make a save and say "WHOA! That was a sick strike! Best strike I've ever seen!" Because I'd punch you in your head.

Nina, ask us what a save is.

Thank you.

$800, Alex! Let me guess...what is a fucking hockey stick?

A goalie's stick is composed of 3 parts: the shaft, the paddle & this ice-scraping bottom piece also found on a skate.

Oh....hmmmmm....the bottom of a fucking ice skate? What's on that? Is it the shaft, the paddle and the shoelace? Can we just call it the metal ice thingy? God damn it. Tyrone, redeem yourself.

"What is the pick?"

Oh jeez. Tyrone, you live in Maryland. Have you never seen ice? Have you been watching too much Oz? No one skates around on an ice pick. They kill people with them. And unless you are Clint Malarchuk, I don't see how you can confuse the too.

IT'S A BLADE. Thanks, Nina. Although I feel like you are just stealing money at this point.

I've given up. Close out the category.

It's the area a goalie patrols in front of the net, or a feature of freshly pressed pants.

Sweet! Missing the cut were "a player who commits a foul must sit in the penalty this, or a slang term for a vagina" and "both faceoffs and bukkake sessions are associated with this shape". I think they chose the worst of the bunch, personally. I guess, similarly to $400, it's ok for a Jeopardy sports question although it's pushing it...but for $1000? Jeez. For that kind of coin, you should ask which Ottawa Senator pushing for his release one year into a long-term deal killed a teammate a few years back or something.

And again, Nina steals this money, as she loves her pants with a fresh crease.

But my question is this...are these questions really that easy? Or do I just follow sports so hard that I am just unaware to the fact that knowing that baseball bats are made out of wood is pretty much the real-world equivalent of knowing that the Siege of Ochakov occured in what is now Ukraine in 1789? I think it may be a little bit of both in some cases, but come on,'s the $1,000 answer from "Things That Are Blue" or something like that:

Though, as you see, it comes in other colors, the terrier seen here has this cerulean name.

The correct response is "what is a Kerry Blue Terrier?" which I reply, what the fuck is a Kerry Blue Terrier? I have never heard of this dog in my entire life and I am still not convinced that they exist. Surely, more people have heard of the crease, right?

Fucking Jeopardy.