Thursday, November 30, 2006

A Friendly Reminder

Remember, folks, new episodes of the fantastic web-series by Ragtag Productions, "We Need Girlfriends" premieres on the first of every month, which means that tonight at midnight, the newest episode, "The Blue Room" will be unleashed upon the intrawebs.

Miss the first episode? No worries, here it is:

Also, here's a snazzy season preview trailer for upcoming season. I have some insider info, and believe me, you don't want to miss the shenanigans Ragtag has in store for us:

So, you might be asking yourself some questions. "How do I watch the latest episode?", "The Ragtag guys seem great, will you help me be there friend/sleep with them?", "Why am I asking so many questions to myself, do I have a problem?"

Let me answer those questions one by one.

1. At midnight, head to this website,, and like magic (or illusion) thr new episode will be there for your viewing pleasure. (Please note: last month I had issues with a midnight update on Firefox, so try for using Internet Explorer if you need the quickest 12:01 fix. Firefox did accept the update the next morning.)

2. Yes

3. I'm not sure, but for all diagnosis of my potentially debilitating diseases or illnesses, I use WebMD

Happy viewing, WNG fans

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

There Is No Movie Theatre That Can Hold Me

In "The Rock", no prison can hold Sean Connery's John Patrick Mason. In "Pulp Fiction", no problem can hold Harvey Keitel's Winston "The Wolf" Wolfe. In real life, no movie theatre can hold Jeff Israel's Jeff Israel.

I've been to hundreds of movie theatres in my day, and I've snuck into all of them.

Sure, this might expose me, but I don't care, I'm a ghost. It has nothing to do with my skin pallor, and everything to do with my uncanny ability at evading ushers. Wolverine has rapid healing, The Flash has speed, Pete Doherty can't die, and I sneak into movies.

Everything is a product of its environment. Serial Killers grew up killing animals and nailing their parents, bullies grown up getting bullied, and jaywalkers learned to hate crossed yellow lines. I worked in a movie theatre.

At a time when most of my colleagues were serving medium popcorns (with butter in the middle!) and drinks trying to get you to get the large size for just a quarter more, I was casing the joint. While most employees went to the ice room, or the overflow popcorn and soda syrup room to make out with other employees, I took in the lay of the land.

After that job I had the skills ncesessary to flaunt the system. Sure, I could've been obvious at first but I felt like it wasn't fair. That would be like Dick Trickle pulling up to you at a stop light and challenging you to race. So, I started small, buying Child/Senior Citizen's tickets from the auto-ticket machine. They never notice, and the trend grew to epic proportions.

It wasn't until college until I was confident enough to flaunt my abilities. One fateful Saturday afternoon, a group of 15 friends ventured to the United Artists Theatres in Westbury, NY. In case you're not familiar with the UA, it's made for double features. One ticket taker, a hallway full of theatres, and an inverted concession stand so you never have to leave the ticket zone. They make it too easy.

What happened that day is legendary and is, in fact, still talked about among Hofstra students. We extrapolated on the double and took in a triple feature. A marathon session of Not Another Teen Movie->Ocean's 11->Vanilla Sky.

Since then I've plied my trade in the Bay State. In Randolph, it's either walking in the oft ignored front entrance on a weekday and having free reign, or, paying for a movie on the bottom floor and staying there all day.

AMC Framingham is almost as big of a joke as UA Westbury. Today my roomate and I saw Bond and Stranger Than Fiction then watched the opening 20 minutes of The Departed to kill time in between.

Perhaps inspired by the Bond movie, we realized there was an usher suspiciously watching us in the 6:10 Departed (while we waited for 6:;45 Stranger Than Fiction). With a few knowing glances and nods, we silently agreed to leave the theatre one at a time, rendezvous-ing in a different theatre in 10 minutes. It worked. Of course.

So, movie theatre employees, as stated in a movie I would've snuck into if I cared enough to see it in theatres, Bring It On.
YouTube Clip Of The Day


Tuesday, November 28, 2006

The Devil's Advocate

Ex-roomate Ryan and I had alot of good opinions on various issues that we enjoyed being rather vociferous about. One of my main arguments, was using the word "vociferous" in places where it's not entirely necessary (Jeff-1, Ryan-0).

Anyways, aside from placement of superfluous words, we generally agreed on most everything. As you can imagine, that took the fun out of arguing. Eventually, we decided to take up the Devil's Advocate.

Things usually took a turn for the weird. Here's what transpired last time:

Fancy Restaurants Should Present All Patrons With Two Napkins

By: Jeff Israel

Take the average place setting at any restaurant, folks. Plate, fork, knife, spoon, and napkin, or 'lapkin' as I call it, because it goes directly on your lap. See, I'm cool with the lapkin. It makes sense to a fault. It catches all the breadcrumbs, rogue sauce or beverage that could possibly dirty your crotchal region. But what happens when you have to get some debris outside your mouth? You reach all the way towards the lapkin pull it up and wipe off your mouth and put the lapkin back.

I am wholeheartedly against this, as when the lapkin is being utilized by the facial region, you run the risk of spilling crumbs all over you. Furthermore, once the lapkin is back in place, you can no longer place your hands on your lap as that area has since been contaminated by food and other trappings.

I propose ALL restaurants employ a second napkin to be used solely for the face. This would cut down on so many problems. I can't believe this hasn't happened yet.

Fancy Restaurants Should Promote Fancifulness, and not Vagrancy

By: Ryan Lane

Allow me to play devil's advocate for a moment, if you will.

I disagree with the introduction of a second napkin. As a matter of fact, I disagree with napkins altogether. Napkins promote laziness. Napkins promote hastiness. Food is meant to be savored; you should be making sure that it all finds its way into your mouth. There should be no debris on either your mouth or your lap. The napkin is nothing but a slovenly man's parachute.

Think about this logically for a moment. Imagine you're going on a date to a fancy restaurant. This place has the works: candles, flowers, troubadours, everything you could imagine. Why should a napkin be part of that list? That's practically admitting to your date that you're a slob. Sure, it might be a good line to say, "Hey, mind if I take off my pants because I think that liver and onions stain might set," but I doubt one's date would be amenable to that idea, particularly in the Ground Round parking lot. Really, all napkins say is that "I'm a mess." Thus, I say we eliminate the napkins.

Childhood obesity is a major problem in our world today. Why? Because kids eat too fast. Eliminating the napkin would reduce this speed. Think of the ribbing little Jimmy would take on the playground when he went out there with red wine practically tie-dyed across his freshly pressed Dockers. Wouldn't that make him think twice about drinking so fast?

We live in a world full of fall back plans and safety nets. I propose we eliminate napkins altogether because, simply, life's too short.

'Support The Troops' Bumper Stickers Are Too Much

By: Jeff Israel

Every time I pull up at a red light, stop at a Stop sign, or get caught in traffic it's rammed down my throat. That pompous yellow ribbon flaunting the words 'I Support The Troops'.

Well holy fucking shit! Let me process this again. You support the troops? What a novel concept, you nitwit.

Of course you support the fucking troops, you're an American. That's what you're supposed to do! You can be against the war, but that doesn't mean you want American soldiers to die. Everyone wants those kids to live. Some just don't think they belong wherever they are

Unless my gaze drifts downward from your Troop fluffing car adhesive onto a license plate originating from Prince Edward Island, I'm not fucking impressed.

Everyone supports the troops. The fact that you need to flaunt it with 10 bumper stickers just means you're a terrible person that needs to make up for that fact by trying to portray some sort of goodwill.

You make me sick.

Bumpers and Cars Are Too Much

By: Ryan Lane

If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to play devil's advocate for a minute. I simply don't understand the point of bumpers.

On bumper cars, I can see the point. In those instances, the cars just bounce off one another and everyone goes and giggles off into the sunset. But in real life? In the real world? Bumpers don't do anything. When was the last time you rear ended someone and they just scooted ten feet down the highway shouting "wheeeeeee!!!!" No, the other person gets out of their car, walks over to you, tells you to stop putting your make up on (or in Jeff's case, to put more make up on), and then says to give them your insurance information. Bumpers don't do anything on the highways of life.

In fact, cars don't do anything anymore. With our state facing problems with the tunnel system, and our country having so much trouble with oil prices, I think it's time to examine alternative transportation. What am I talking about? Flintstone cars. That's right, we should start building cars that are powered by people. Powered by nothing but someone's own gumption. Imagine a day when you say you're "running late for work" and you can literally mean it. Our society is moving forward far too fast, evolving too fast. Everyone wonders when those Jetson cars will finally come to fruition, but perhaps we've been looking at the wrong chapter in the Hanna Barbara Bible. Perhaps it's time we look to the past to save our future.

Childhood obesity is a major problem in our world today. Why? Because kids don't exercise enough. When you strap your kids into the back seat and tell them to pump their legs because otherwise they'll be late for Grandpa's wake, you can bet that they'll power you forward to greater places and, on the whole, a better tomorrow.

We live in a world of complacency, where we just expect cars to take us where we need to go. Because of that, I suggest we eliminate cars altogether because, simply, we should be in charge of our own destinies.

Finding a Happy Dress Code Medium

By: Ryan Lane

For a long period of time, it was stated how tough it was being a woman in the workplace. Sexual harassment and bias reigned supreme. Women were unable to advance their careers appropriately due to these problems; however, with time and much discussion, women have made great headway in the professional world. And even though those archaic problems still show up now and again, women have passed their gender equivalent when it comes to some areas. Most notably: dress code.

We're stuck currently in the dog days of summers. Sure, my office has air conditioning, but I still have to commute to get there; I still have to suffer through unbearable heat when it comes to toiling on the T. Women? They have it much easier. They can wear skirts, they can wear sandals to the office. Men? We're much less fortunate, it's nothing but pants all year long. Shorts and cut offs are deemed unprofessional. Sandals? Please, what man would you respect who wears open-toed shoes to a board meeting? Unless you're telling me our third quarter prospects on hemp sales, I'm not buying.

So, here's what I suggest. We need to reach a happy dress code medium when it comes to men and women. I'm not saying that women have to wear pants and dress shoes everyday. However, I am suggesting a strict dress code for the working woman. Skirts must be at least three inches below the knee. Capris? No longer allowed; take it to Old Navy, ma'am. Flip flops? No thanks, I don't care if they did cost $200. Shoes can be open backed, but must have closed fronts. These are the stipulations, and I think they are pretty fair.

Women wanted equality in the work place, it's time we gave it to them.

Wait. Do You Happen To Work In My Living Room?

By: Jeff Israel

Wow. Allow me to parlay my ignorance into something I like to call Devil's Advocate. I'm shocked by your depiction of the workplace. Not by your wanting to bridge the gap between men's and women's dress codes, just the fact that there are actually women in the workplace.

Call me old fashioned, but I remember a day when the phrase 'women's rights' pertained to whether dinner was going to be put on the table at 5:10 or 5:15 and the word 'suffrage' was just something the wife and I threw around the bedroom once or twice a month. And usually only on birthday months. Hey, remind me to bring that back!

Anyways, this whole women in the workplace thing freaks me out. Rosie the Riveter? Fine. Give her minimum wage at Jiffy Lube. But everyone else? I don't think they're ready.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love ladies. And if you don't think so, ask my wife and 9 daughters. They seem perfectly OK cleaning dishes and vacuuming the living room to me. Sure, every now and again one kind of acts up and I have to sit her down and tell her that Susan B. Anthony was a Communist. But hey, that's life in today's age. Oh, and my women wear burlap sacks. That OK, Lane?

Your Choice of Kids

By: Ryan Lane

I'm more than pleased that you have nine children, because you've been practicing something people like to call "pro-choice," or as I like to say, "pro-voice," as in, I hear you, brother.

This whole abortion debate has really gained some life, seemingly overnight. Some people are pro-life, others are pro-choice. I'm the latter, and I'm not here to yell at those who are the former. I certainly understand and respect the beliefs that have led you to that decision. All I will say, though, is that I'm anti-you.

Women should be able to choose when they are going to be parents, and an inherent commitment exists with such a loaded word. If a woman becomes pregnant at a time when she is not able to act as a mother, then she should be able to move forward without becoming one. With children, and most notably childhood obesity, running ragged nowadays, it's best for America to allow parents to decide when they are able to appropriately raise children.

Our country was based upon the beliefs of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And I'll tell you this, being pro-choice applies to at least two of those.

Everyone's A Doctor On This Flight!

By: Jeff Israel

Once again I'd have to defer to a movie featuring Keanu Reeves and Al Pacino, as much as I don't want to. Yup, here comes the Devil's Advocate.

You say "some people are pro-choice", "some people are pro-life". Blah, blah, blah. I say, 'who the fuck needs a medical license to perform surgery'? Do you know how many Cholecystectomies I've done this month? Yeah, I work in a deli. So what? A large Italian sub with no hots and a side of quadruple bypass surgery? Sure thing. Coming up next.

And it's not just surgical procedures. It goes for anything, basically. Who needs a doctorate to check my prostate? Not my mechanic, I'll tell you that for sure!

In all, M.D.'s are pretty lame. Hey you went to school for about 12 years. I went to Nassau Community College for 12 weeks. Want to have a biopsy-off? No? Pussy.
Note: A partial version of "The Devil's Advocate" is featured in a new literary magazine available on your web browser right now.

Check out, My Front Teeth
YouTube Clip Of The Day

Ron Artest was a pussy

Saturday, November 18, 2006

What's In A Name?

Fantasy sports are a multi-million dollar industry. People take them seriously, very seriously. With high stakes money involved, people start prepping their draft strategy months in advance.

Unfortunately, one of the more key aspects of running a fantasy team is sometimes left on the back burner. I'm talking about your team's name, of course. While you're wondering whether or not Ike Hilliard can still run a post pattern with one foot in the grave, you've carelessly become the 79,456th person on the planet to name their team, Just Give Me The Ring (or some other approximation)

So, friends lacking in creativity, I have teamed together with a few of my pals to form a Fantasy Team Name Consulting Agency. We're well qualified and I'll prove it to you.

Our pedigree is strong. It all came from ex-roomate Ryan's fantasy leagues. He forced us to raise the bar, and that's why he's the charter member of the agency (which ironically, doesn't have a clever name). Ryan has always chosen an insanely obscure, obscure Simpsons quote to turn into a team name. It's a harder task than it seems considering the character limit.

The beginning was tough, but we started to get our act together last spring for our baseball league. The Steve Brogan Experience (a fantastic name in itself, based on an obscure SNL reference) featured some good names. We had Snakes On A Team, Evil Shenanigans, Can I Borrow A Feeling, and Jeters Always Propser.

All pretty good stuff, but then came the real test, a weekly trivia bout at Tommy Doyle's, a bar down the street. We were facing off against teams called The Mathletes and Bell's Palsy, so we felt we needed to dominate all facets of the trivia experience, game and name included. The naming rules were simple, every week one team member would choose an obscure/amazing movie/TV character to be put in the following blank: The ___________ Experience. The name was then either accepted or vetoed by the following team. Here are some highlights.

The Chim Richalds Experience:
Aw, it's always cute to reflect on your first try...or whatever. This one came from Steve. Chim Richalds is what we named his one man band after months of listening to his off-key, piano induced rendition of Coldplay songs. Chim of course, goes far deeper than this. You may me remember it was the name of the doctor Ron Burgundy pretended to be when telling Veronica Corningstone, "she got knocked up". Who knows, maybe next time we'll be Mike Rithjin...from the network... we'll pick you a van.

The Stan Darsh Experience: My first naming experience. What may seem like a mispelling of one of the better South Park characters, Stan Marsh, is actually a tribute to one of the top 5 South Park episodes of all time, "Asspen". I love this episode as my girlfriend will attest for my wanting to watch it at the weirdest of times. Asspen is an 80's take-off (featuring Take On Me!), that also features amaing lines of dialogue like, "Stan Marsh? More like Stan Darsh"

The Steve Holt Experience: Not the most obscure character, but the most fun. The greatest television chracter in history's illegitimate son (G.O.B. from Arrested Development, if you're out of the loop)prompted full on "STEVE HOLT" overhanded fist pumps from the Experience after correct answers (which there were many).

And those many correct answers by the Experience actually prompted other teams not to show up any longer as they had no chances of winning. Since the initial Tommy Doyle's run of '05-06 we've dispersed, but when we get together for a trivia game, a great name is usually spawned. Some notable inclusions:

The Bruce Dickinson Experience: SNL - We put on our pants one leg at a time, only when we do it, we dominate trivia tournaments.

The Chubbs Peterson Experience: Happy Gilmore - Trivia tournament down in Florida. I hooked my ball in the rough down by the lake. Damned alligator just POPPED up, cut me down on my prime. He got me, but I tore one of the bastard's eyes out though. Look at that.

The Bob Ghenghis Khan Experience: - Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure - Frankly, we wouldve preferred the Socrates Johnson Experience, but no one could mis-pronounce it correctly enough.

The Johannes Chimpo Experience: Super Troopers - This is what the German guy called Johnny Chimpo from that Afghanistanimation. Back in the cell with your beautiful wife.

Since I've, predictably, gone off topic and gotten a bit long winded, I should get back on point. Naming our trivia teams has prepared the crew and I for, what I think, is our greatest collective team naming in awhile for the football season.

First off, the league's named the Hot Hands Hanon Experience, which a tribute to The Little Giants. Apparently the I Call This Play, The Annexation of Puerto Rico Experience was taken.

My brother started off nicely with Smart Tech, an homage to where the boys in The 40 Year Old Virgin work. Not entirely mind blowing, but a solid name.

Steve cleverly picked The Borat Experience. But he capitalized BORAT to be wicked funny. Oh wait, that name sucks.

Ryan's Kentucky Fried Panda Squadron is another vague Simpson's reference, and at this point, he could be fucking with us, and it may not even be a Simpson's reference. Whatever. I'll grandfather him into having a great name.

I kept it simple and nostalgic with the Gunnar Stahl Experience, which gave me a chance to keep "You lost it for yourself" as my perma-Smack Talk.

My buddy Davis' name is the Jaywalkers. This is a reference to a deleted scene in Old School where Vince Vaughn tells Luke Wilson to relax because, "Statutory rape is like the jaywalking of sex crimes." I don't want to give too much away, because Davis is still in possession of my Patriots tickets and I'd hate to see him incarcerated before we got to the game. But, it's an amazing story I'd be happy to share in person (and once the statute of limitations runs out, just kidding). Just trust me that this is a fantastic name in which he should be free to use for all fantasy sporting events for the rest of his life.

But the coup de gras goes to Chaves. This year he brought his naming to another level, unfortunately he still sucks at fantasy sports. Cocked In Rhode Island is a measly 3-7. The name, however, is beyond fucking awesome. A reference to the movie Outside Providence and perhaps one of the funniest movie scenes in history, when the following letter is read aloud:

Greetings Dunph,

What's happening? I got your letter today. Cornhole Academy sounds like it really sucks the big one. I can't believe they make everyone work a lot and not smoke. You should tell that piece of shit Funderturd to shove it. You didn't want to go there in the first place. He'd shit man. Today you should have seen me and Mousy today at school today. We got cocked on a pint of Blackberry brandy and ate some T.H.C. on the bus. We were fucked. This teacher, Mr. Rivera, goes -- "What's wrong with you Delaney?" I go, "I'm totally fucked, man!" Everybody laughed like a bastard. Oh man, you should - You should see this song I'm listenin' to, man. It's called, "Don't Bogart That Joint, My Friend." I think it's by a group called --

This is a couple of hours later. Must have nodded out, man. I gotta go, cause I probably definately gonna nod out again. You want me to send you some Squeef, or you got enough? Good luck not getting caught.

Cocked in Rhode Island,


P.S. Mousy says he stink-fingered Bunny Cote.

Anyways, I present an open invitation to anyone who has a fantasy naming dilemma. Please contact me via email or comment and my team of consultants will get working on it right away.

Who knows? You could be the next Awesome Prank Farva.
YouTube Clip Of The Day

Can't wait until Delonte and Rondo pull this off. And no, the Sit Down Rando Experience has not been taken.

Friday, November 17, 2006

The Onion Makes Me Laugh

Funnily enough, my uncle looks exactly like the Iranian President.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

I Transcribe The Greatest Moment in Conan O'Brien History

It's no secret that I'm a Conan fan. I'll take him over any other late night host in the game. I can trace my adoration for Conan back to 1998, when the single best late night talk show appearance of all time transpired. It is so awesome that I found the mp3 of a recording on Napster, like, the second week I moved into college. I have it burned onto CD, and now I have it on my iPod. I can't for the life of me find video of it, as NBC is as afraid of the internet as Fox 25, so, for you, the loyal viewing public, I shall transcribe the single greatest moment in Conan history.

The Players: Conan O'Brien, Courtney Thorne-Smith, Norm Macdonald, Carrot Top (by proxy), Horrified Audience (not pictured)

The scene: Conan is interviewing Cournety Thorne-Smith. She is the second guest of the program, Norm being the first. He stays on the couch in between Andy Richter and Courtney Thorne-Smith for the interview. Hilarity ensues:

Conan: I want to talk to you about something, because this came up earlier accidentally, because I don't know what Norm's going to talk about, and it's best that I don't know what he will talk about, but he mentioned Carrot Top. You are making a movie with Carrot Top?

Courney Thorne-Smith:
Made a movie with Carrot Top

Conan: OK, you made a movie with Carrot Top, it's not out yet. Can you put the picture of Carrot Top up again? There he is.

Wait a minute, she left Melrose Place to do a movie with Carrot Top?!

(audience laughs, nervously)

That's where I'm going my friend. This begs the question, why a movie with Carrot Top?

CTS: He was great, he did a wonderful job.

There's a scene where you two embrace?

CTS: Yup, lots of making out

Conan: Oh, for god's sake.

Nothing but making out. It's like 9 1/2 Weeks, but with Carrot Top.

Conan: (laughing) Wow, I gotta check out that movie!

Norm: Is it called 9 1/2 seconds?

(audience laughs)
(long pause)

Norm: Well, because he's a premature ejaculator.

(audience, Courtney, and Andy all laugh somewhat appalled)

Conan: You know what happened? He said 9 1/2 seconds and I'm look at him, because, I know there's more. Then i wait and wait, and see th glimmer in your eye and bang.....I thought you were going with crackwhore, though.

So what's the movie going to be called?

Norm: I know what it's going to be called

Conan: Yeah, Norm, what's that?

Norm: If it's got Carrot Top you know what a good name for it would be?

Conan: What's that, Norm?

Norm: Box Office poision.

(audience reacts with laughter mixed with horror)

CTS: C'mon, I'm in it, too!

Conan: She's in it.

CTS: What about my career?

Conan: Courtney Thorne-Smith, the woman sitting to your left is in the movie!

I'm gonna go see it.....for Courtney.

CTS: (near tears) After you steer everyone else away?!

Norm: No, I love this girl. I would see any movie with this girl in it. She's a beautiful lady and a talented, show guest.

Conan: As evidenced by her appearance on our rival show!

Alright, so there's this two hour season finale of Melrose Place, there's this movie coming out. Title undetermined at this point.

CTS: Chairman of the Board.

Conan: Ohhh, alright. (To Norm) Do something with that, ya freak.

(audience laughs, and Conan tries to end interview)

Norm: (interrupting) I bet the board is spelled B-O-R-E-D

(20 seconds of laughter, noone can get out a word)

Conan: Alright everybody, that's pretty much our show.

YouTube Clip Of The Day

I hope Sheffield doesn't do this to Matsuzaka

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

"The Mighty Ducks" Was Fucking Bullshit

As one who cavorted with Film Majors and took several film courses in college, I have learned that one of the main tenets of filmmaking is 'Suspension of Disbelief'. Suspension of Disbelief is a willingness of a viewer to suspend his critical faculties to the extent of ignoring minor inconsistencies so as to enjoy a work of fiction.

The term doesn't just apply to films, but also to written works as well. In fact the term was coined by a poet:

"(…) it was agreed, that my endeavours should be directed to persons and characters supernatural, or at least romantic, yet so as to transfer from our inward nature a human interest and a semblance of truth sufficient to procure for these shadows of imagination that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith."

-Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Now, you may be thinking to yourself, "I think I understand the basic principles of this theory, but could you provide examples?". Or, "Jeff, do you realize you are just quoting Wikipedia, which is not that accurate in the first place and doesn't prove that you know what you're talking about?"

Well, kind reader, first of all, I stand by my addiction to Wikipedia, and second of all, I would be more than happy to accomodate your requests for examples.

Take, "E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial" Steven Spielberg's heartwarming tale of an alien who comes to Earth looking for little kids or something and befriends a boy named Elliot and Drew Barrymore. In what everyday scenario would parents allow their children to cavort with aliens without calling in an Amber Alert? Do aliens eat Reese's Pieces? I don't know. But that didn't stop the film from winning 4 Academy Awards and becoming the great tear jerker of the early 80's. Why? Suspension of disbelief my friends.

And it's not just sci-fi movies involved, let's look at the classic guy gutwrencher "Field of Dreams". There's the glaringly obvious stretches like James Earl Jones' well publicized allergy to corn, and the not so obvious. Ray Liotta portrayed Shoeless Joe Jackson and in the movie he batted right-handed and threw left-handed, while Jackson batted left-handed and threw right-handed in real life. Also, Italians notoriously suck at baseball. Did you see their World Baseball Classic team?! Lenny Dinardo was the staff ace! I didn't care about these goofs. I accepted them with open arms as a major factor of, you guessed it, suspension of disbelief.

I've seen thousands of films and have accepted every odd plot twist, bizarre character trait, and unbelivable denoument. Every movie but three. The wholly inaccurate Mighty Ducks Trilogy.

I know what you're thinking. 'Jeff, it's just a Disney movie', 'It's a kid's movie, Jeff you have to let some things slide'. Well, those "childish" movies may be very, very important to a large contingent of people who grew up in the early to mid 80's including yours truly. And I cannot suspend my disbelief for one minute, especially with some of the more egregious happenings taking place in this film.

Charlie Conway's Unnatural Ascension to Greatness

Take the main protaganist, Charlie Conway. In the first movie this good-hearted spaz with a kind-of-hot Mom stumbles and slips his way into finally learning the triple deke. In the second, he sucks so badly, that he voluntarily gives up his roster spot to make room for Adam "Cake-Eater" Banks and spends the championship game as Assistant Coach. Then, in the third movie he enrolls at Eden Hall as a superstar. How this trainwreck of a hockey player suddenly became the second coming of Mario Lemieux is not answered, or even mentioned by the filmmakers.

Not Dealing With The Loss Of Terry Hall

I'm no rube. I understand that not every character will return in every movie of a trilogy. Mighty Duck originals absent from the second film include Dave Karp and Peter Mark (obviously in juvenile hall, if their dog crap in a purse prank was any indicator); Tammy and Tommy Duncan (most likely getting back into competetive figure skating especially since Kenny Wu left to pursue ice hockey); and Terry Hall. Terry's absence goes unmentioned . This is especially troubling because his brother Jesse is still a consistent player on the team and it spells the demise of the Oreo Line. How Jesse continues to be one of Team USA/Ducks's leading players after the tragic death/kidnapping of his younger brother boggles my mind.

Speaking of the USA/Duck Merger…

Hendricks Hockey was very generous to sponsor Team USA, and allow them to retain their Duck swagger. Giving them sweet new jerseys for their Wheaties Box photoshoot was a kind gesture (And if you think that a Junior Olympic Hockey Team being worthy of a Wheaties Box before the tournament has even begun is a stretch, you obviously misunderestimate the pull that superagent Don Tibbles has). They even hooked up Gordon Bombay with a sweet pad on the beach so he could slick his hair back like Pat Riley, do tons of blow like Butch Hobson, and try and seduce that Icelandic Jezibel under the false pretenses of "getting ice cream".

Then, in between periods of the climactic game, Team USA changes uniforms into Anaheim Mighty Ducks jerseys. Not only is this illegal (the announcers say there's nothing in the rulebooks about jersey switches, a statement that happens to be fiction), but it is disrespectful to Hendricks. The USA jerseys prominently displayed the manufacturer's logo down the sleeve, the Ducks jerseys are made by CCM. An unspeakable travesty that went unpunished by Team Hendricks. Unbelievable.

This is just the tip of the iceberg my friends. Drunks being forced to coach youth athletics, street hockey in the projects of South Central, Los Angeles, Dean Portman lawyering up before an unexpected return to Eden Hall, noone hitting on Julie "The Cat" Gaffney for the better part of 2 years (thankfully Eden Hall's varsity goalie finally saw the light), Russ Tyler's unnoticed goalie equipment change, Jan and Han's interchangability, tying Greg Goldberg to the goal without being reported to the Minnesota Interscholastic Athletics Association for hazing, Hawks Coach Jack Reilly's constant collar-popping and general douchebaggery, Fulton Reed interchanging the name's 'Fulton' and 'Reed' on the back of his jersey (the precursor to Ichiro?), everything about Luis Mendoza.

All total bullshit. All unexcusable. Disney owes us all an apology.

Oh, and this is an ode to South Park's bound to be amazing yet-to-be aired episode, synopsized like so:
Stan Marsh has hit rock bottom. He's got no job, no bicycle and his only way out of a bad situation, is to coach the local pee wee hockey team. Once a hotshot pee wee hockey player himself, Stan Marsh has tried to put those days behind him. But he's still living with the memory of how let his team down when he missed the winning shot in the big game. Now, he's about to find out that being a coach means facing your past. He's determined to show his kids what it's like to be a winner!

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

My Car Is A Time Machine

I have some amazing news to share.

My car, happens to be a time warp.

Sure, sure, get out all the Delorean and Flux Capacitors while you can, but I'm being fucking serious.

Everytime I get into my car, no matter the time of day, it is one hour into the future!

Right now I'm still contemplating what to do with my new found power, just like the Asian dude from "Heroes". Save the cheerleader, save the world, ya know?

So what is it like in the future? Remarkably similar, to be honest. So much so, that when I get out of my car, not much has changed. You'd be surprised at how little the world differs just one hour from whenever I get in my Accord.

Sorry, for being completely vague but the power is still new to me. I guess some background information is in order.

It all happened sometime on October 29. That day I had to work at 3:00, so I left my house when my cell phone said it was 2:30, but when I got in my car it said it was 3:30. Originally nervous that I was going to be late, I arrived at work, got out, and I'll be damned, it was 2:50. Holy shit?! It was if some ripple in the space time continuum had appeared on the driver's side door of my Honda Accord.

As Spiderman's Uncle said, "With great power, comes great responsibility", and I now know what he means. This awesome ability can tempt the fates. Think of how much is possible one hour later. I could turn on sports radio and find out what the score of the Patriots game is in the late 2nd quarter, make an educated guess on the outcome of the game, step out of the car in the present, and place a bet.

Or maybe, if I put my car in reverse, I can go back an hour.

The possibilities are endless.

Well, something tells me they might end in March.

YouTube Clip Of The Day

This comes from Jay, and it's so fucking uncomfortable, you kind of can't watch. I only wish Dwight K schrute was playing rhythm.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Accent Accident

Nick Lachey got out at the right time.

During my traditional Sunday sports marathon, I was privvy to the Jessica Simpson commercial where she hawks some HDTV. Now, we have an HDTV, so listening to what Jessica Simpson has to say was, per usual, not necessary. Instead, I, per usual, paid attention to her appearance. It's not looking good.

For the past year or so, Jessica has looked alot like a tranny, but these new commercials are even worse. Look at her weird, overly-lipsticked mouth. Creepy. She really looks like Steve Buscemi in Billy Madison, when he's putting on lipstick, writing his Hit List.

ANYWAY (Klosterman style)

The commercial is taken from a scene in Dukes Of Hazzard, which I have never scene. I love the work of Jay Chandrasekhar, but I didn't like the idea of seeing Jessica Simpson mangle a southern accent for 2 hours. Originally, I was baffled that someone could be such a bad actress that they could actually be Southern and still struggle to act with a Southern accent. But it happens more than you think.

Matt Damon, for some crazy reason, has a terrible Boston accent in both Good Will Hunting and The Departed. It's more cartoonish and let's face it, no one has that bad of an accent (not even me when I'm drunk in a foreign state and want to draw attention to myself).

The accent that bugs me more than all is used by a man who made his mark talking with a terrible accent. I'm talking about Wilmer Valderrama, who played Fez on "That 70's Show". I'm sure you know, that Fez has some ridiculously vague foreign accent, which is a constant plot foible. "Where is Fez from? He's soooo foreign", etc. That's acting, no big deal.

However, now, he has a new show on MTV called Yo Momma in which he goes to the ghettos of California and now New York City, and has people compete in telling Yo Momma jokes (seriously, that's the show). The show is based in reality, and Wilder acts as host, so you think he'd talk in his normal voice that has no signs of an accent. But no, in some ridiculous ploy to feel safe on the streets of South Central, he talks in this weird, ghetto-ized Latino tinted accent.

What a douchebag.
YouTube Clip Of The Day


Saturday, November 11, 2006

This Clearly Needs A Better Title

There is a Facebook group dedicated to this blog that has more than 70 members. That's pretty cool, I guess, but maybe not, because it seems most everyone hates Facebook. One of the more common groups among my group, is the Students Against Facebook, which has a whopping 500,000 members. nationwide.

To explain the hatred of Facebook, you have to start from the beginning.

Hofstra was one of the first schools to get hooked up to the Facebook network, way back in the spring of 2004. The original model was pretty simple. It was just for college students, you had your in-school friends and your out of school friends, you could write on people's walls and start groups. Ostensibly, it had the same basic premise as it does today: show off drunken pictures of yourself so your high school friends think you got cool in college Social Networking.

Then the shit hit the fan.

After some minor tweaks like opening up Facebook to high schools, geographic regions, and workplaces, they decided to go big time. Enter, the News Feed, which made everything you did open to the public. It was a wild time, and I've never seen people so angry. It showcased some embarassing moments for people

It ranged from the humbling:
"John Doe is now single"
To the shady:
"Jane Doe wrote on John Doe's Wall, 'I saw you're newly single. Sucks. NEways, we should get together sometime'"
To the scandalous:
"John Doe is now listed as in a relationship with: Jane Doe"
To the completely and utterly embarassing:
"John Doe added 'Mind Of Mencia' to list of favorite TV shows"
Facebook quickly learned from their mistake and added privacy controls and cooled off some steam that was building against them, putting off a potential internet coup d'etat.

See, I didn't really give a shit one way or another (aside from changing my status to, "Jeff is: Stalking People Like Fucking Crazy", as a joke). The reason, being, that I hated Facebook already. The impetus for the hatred being something I mentioned in paragraph 3. (You can scroll up and guess, or I'll just tell you now).

Facebook hit it's stride in the spring of 2004, which is when I graduated college. Reading Facebook post graduation is akin to torture. Not for the same reasons as Myspace (annoying bulletins sent out by people who apparently think that everyone who unfortunately clicked "Add " cares about the everyday mundane minutae of their existence), but for the jealousy.

Being out of college, and reading Facebook, especially since the advent of the News Feed, is like looking into a window on a place yo used to know and love and can never get back to. It sucks.

So, kids in Facebook land, be happy you get the chance to change your status to, "Binge Drinking All Weekend", because chances are, when I'm reading that, I'm at a staff meeting.


I broke Guitar Hero 2 last night.

I was drunk and playing Killing In The Name while my friends and I were pregaming.

I turned around during one part to do some no-look rocking out and in the midst of an epic power chord I pulled the wires, the PS2 came flying, the game came flying out and it got scratched.

I'm definitely exchanging it at Best Buy. Don't tell on me, please.

YouTube Clip Of The Day

I was in Marching Band in 8th grade and I fucking hated it. Maybe I would've liked it if we played Radiohead! This kicks ass. Airbag->Paranoid Android, The National Anthem.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Borat May Have Emasculated My iPod of Choice, But He'll Never Take My Jew Gold

As some of you know, I have the kick ass days off of Wednesday and Thursday. Rather than grumble about being the longest tenured writer who should have a better schedule, I make the most of it. If that means having Happy Hour on a Tuesday, going to Bar Mitzvahs on a Wednesday, and checking my Fantasy Football scores on Thursday, so be it.

Much like people in Manchester, New Hampshire calling their shithole of a city "ManchVegas", I call my shitty days off "my weekend".

SaturdayTuesday was a good kick-off to "my weekend".

Guitar Hero 2 was the purchase of the day, complete with new Cherry Red Gibson SG controller. I beat it last night on Medium, the sole purpose being that I knew "Freebird" was the final bonus encore song.

As some of you know, I'm a bit of a Freebird connosieur. Three of my favorite Hofstra moments directly involve Freebird. One, being the time that myself and a few others formed an "air" Freebird band (which I believe was a drunken result of seeing Mini Kiss and Journey's Separate Ways video too many times). The second, also doubling the mosty humbling moment of my life. I was in the lobby of Alliance Hall when a kid came walking through, playing an accoustic guitar. To be a dick, I yelled out "FREEEEEBIRRRD", which he subsequently played, making me look like even more of a dick. Ouch. And the third Freebird moment, of course comes from Happy Hour at McHebe's. It was the song that kicked things off at about 6:30 (at which point the Happy Hour regulars of which I was one, had already been drinking heavily for two hours).

I won't spoil it for anyone who wants to get through Guitar Hero 2's Career Mode, but the Freebird payoff is awesome. All I'll say is that Stonehenge, UFO's, and the most badass dual guitar solo of all time is involved.

SaturdayTuesday also rocked because I saw Borat. Being one of the most offensive movies around, I put on my most offensive t-shirt (Duke Lacrosse), and brought my most offensive friend, Steve. To put it in perspective, Steve has a shirt that says "I am not a terrorist" written in Arabic, and that's not even his most offensive t-shirt. In fact one of our favorite tales is of the time Steve came back from Whole Foods, complaining that people were giving him dirty looks, completely unaware that he was wearing a shirt with nothing other than a GIANT middle finger on it. Good times.


Steve, Jay, and I all had a fantawstic time at a fantastic movie, but I have nothing to say about it that hasn't been said already, so I won't even try.


Sunday>Tonight I'll be at the Bruins game with my brother, but the big game across the country is Louisville-Rutgers. I don't really care who wins, nor do I have much of an interest in Big East football (being forced to watch Syracuse games for the past 2 years can make you hate the sport). But I would like you, the reading public, and Rutgers University officials who happen to be reading this blog to know that they should not be so ashamed of who they really are.

Folks, Rutgers University is living a lie.

It's the State University Of New Jersey, and they're not fooling anyone.

Note to parents: Pay attention to what board games you buy your children.

My girlfriend has a mouse in her aparment (a product of a shoddy landlord and not a general statement on the apartment's cleanliness, FYI) and she and her roomates are completely at a loss for capturing it. I think this all goes back to the fact that she was never able to have Mousetrap as a child. You may think I'm crazy, but years prior, at summer camp, one of my friends caught and killed a mouse using a contraption made with a bucket, newspaper, a shutter stick, water, and peanut butter. This kid was a major pretty boy and not one you'd expect to be able to catch a mouse. BUT he was also rich and spoiled and almost assuredly had Mousetrap as a child.

Sure, you might be laughing, but you'll think of this when you realize your kid's trying out for the Hockey team and you never bought him Thin Ice.

In perhaps the only instance of Eddie Griffin ever working too hard...

Eddie, I dig your Man Law commercials where you pimp Undercover Brother and wear a weird suit, but I gotta disagree with you on your Offense sign. Whereas the Defense sign is just a "D" and a fence, your Offense sign is an "Off" switch and a fence, making the word Offfence. Way too much emphasis on the F. You don't want the crowd to appear to have a lisp, it's far less intimidating for opposing players. A simple "O" will do.


The Facebook group is taking off, even to the point where I don't know some of the people joining. So join and introduce yourself. Or don't.
YouTube Clip Of The Day

Hmmmmm. Wonder why I like this?

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

In Honor Of The Greatest Video Game In History

Tuesday was a huge day in our country's history. Sure there were elections, but more importantly, Guitar Hero 2 Came out. In case you haven't delved back in the archives, here's my tribute to Guitar Hero One
So Why Male Models?

I've been getting alot of new readers in the past few days, with the link on Deadspin, random Myspace bulletin pimpage, and of course, the new and improved Facebook group(join!) So, I wanted to perform a service for the newer readers, because that's the kind of guy I am.

Believe it or not, Christmastime is coming up, and with that comes vacation. Whether you're going with your family, your roomates, or by yourself (LOSER!), planning a trip is important. Where should you go? What should you do? Is the availability of prostitutes and drugs important to you? Well, if you answered "Yes!" to the last question then I have a treat for you!

After I graduated college, myself and a friend backpacked through Europe for a month (which is my favorite pretentious thing to say, by the way). Anyways, I kept a journal of my travels, and I present to you:

The Because I Didn't Want To Go To Grad School's Guide to...Amsterdam! (a semi-regular series!)

Amsterdam takes alot out of you. Mostly money and energy. I was there for 3 nights, and I think I'd have to wait 3 more years to go back. That's one year for every night I spent there. Between dodging ugly hookers, the "coca/ecstasy" dealers, and bikes, a dude can get tired. Not to mention the fact that *gasp* Amsterdam has alot of cultural activities to offer and *gasp* it's actually a very beautiful city.

There are a lot of things you notice about the city when you first get there. One, the main areas are very congested between pedestraisn and cyclists all frolicking together on the same sidewalk. And by frolicking I mean, walking shoulder to shoulder, dodging the trolleys that are Amsterdam's form of public transport.

They say that everytime a bell rings an angel gets it's wings. Well in Amsterdam, everytime a bell rings, you're about to get a Huffy White Heat right up your ass if you don't move. With small, serpentine, clogged streets, the prime mode of transportation is the bike. And you'll learn pretty damn quickly that the investment banker in a 3 piece suit that you were laughing at for riding a bike, will indeed run you overif you dont get out of the way. An added bonus, for about 2 weeks, no matter where you are, when you hear a bell, you'll duck and cover like a Pavlovian soldier. Fun times.

That culture I was talking about, well, within a few mile radius of eachother you have the Anne Frank house (an effectively simplicit museum, which I loved) a Van Gogh museum (pricey but worth it) and a Rembrandt museum (um, the outside looked nice). Not to mention everywhere has canal tours so you can check out the city for yourself and they'll explain what you're actually seeing.

The red light district, I suppose, for better or worse, is one of the main reasons people go to Amsterdam. It's actually alot like the Phish Lot Scene, except the hookers fill out W-2 forms. Well, actually they're nothing alike, aside from the smell of pot and tbe shady "coca, ecstasy, charlie" dealers that offer it to you every three steps.

After going through the first time, you think you'll never go back, because it will get old. Alas, I went at least twice a night, just to walk through, because you see something different everytime. Sometimes you see fights, sometimes you see drunk guys hecking the girls only to be dragged away by the biggest bodyguard you've ever seen in about 3.2 seconds, and more often than not you'll see someone emerge from a booth trying to pretend like he was just discussing Astrophysics with a Rhodes Scholar, and not paying 50 Euro to get some ass from a hooker.

It's also funny to note how all the girls are separated by fetish. Which leads me to realize that an awesome job would be a "Red Light District Personal Shopper". "Ah, you have an Asian fetish, you say? Well, come this way, I think I know what you have in mind."

It's unfortunate that most people associate that with Amsterdam because it's an unbelievably gorgeous city, with a ton to offer. Good museums, beautiful sights, life threatening staircases (2 ft horizontal for every 15ft vertically), good drugs if you're into that, decent beer, and a good place to meet people out to have a good time. But, Im not in any rush to back anytime soon, it's a little too insane.

YouTube Clip Of The Day

GOB is the greatest television character ever.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

I Already Have My Pre-Thanksgiving Plans Wrapped Up

In case you've been living under a rock, or smoking them with Reverend Ted Haggard, you know that the night before Thanksgiving is the biggest drinking night of the year. Bigger than July 4th, and bigger than Cinco De Mayo. The reason being that about 83% of every graduating high school class migrates back to wherever they graduated from (the other 17% can't make it because of out-of-state family, work, or, in my town's case, prison).

In Randolph, the big to-do was to head over to the local Knights Of Columbus (located in scenic Randolph Industrial Park!) and meet up with all the kids you couldn't stand in high school, plus your six good friends that you hang out with every weekend anyway. It's basically the same thing as a school dance except you have to pay for the booze instead of stealing it from your parents and you smoke cigarettes outside instead of in the school bathroom.

I happen to love this event despite it's utter lameness and high white trash factor. Actually, I think it's the white trash factor that keeps me going. I don't know whether it's hearing two old chums recalling fond memories of the good times they shared on the quad at Massasoit Community College, or watching two Mobil On The Run employees "talk shop" over some suds, but something has me leaving this event feeling much better about myself.

But no, it's not the self-absorbed ego boost that I really enjoy. It's the fights.

Yup, definitely the fights.

Every year a fight breaks out, every year it's awesome, but now it's why I'll never go back. Allow me to explain.

Last year, my friends and I arrived at the party, or in proper 'Dolph-speak, rolled up to the K-of-C at around 10-ish. We were lucky to get there when we did because the gates were closed soon thereafter. Why? A fight of course.

This made things difficult because half the people we wanted to see were stuck outside milling in the lobby, waiting for another fight to erupt. So, we made an executive decision, and moved to the only other place that had a bar, a Chinese Restaurant.

Right before we got there, a car flew out of the parking lot, tires squealing, only to be chased by the kid who got into a fight at the K-of-C mere hours ago. We found out later the driver of the car was the other kid in the fight. Anyways, the combatant on foot did what any rational person would do when put in this situation.... he started chasing after the car, eventually facing the front windshield from about 10 feet away, swearing his face off. So, I'm stopped in the middle of the street, watching a face-off, only one of the participants is in a car, the other, on foot.

Then, he ran the kid over with his car and took off!

Man, it was awesome. We couldn't believe what we saw.

A kid got hit with a fucking car. There's no way this year's K-of-C RHS reunion is topping that one. Not unless, this plays out on North Main Street.

YouTube Clip Of The Day

This is from Davis Shaw,who, for some reason, was watching this. Good and terrible!

Monday, November 06, 2006

Ceci Est Notre Pays

Most people around these parts seem to be walking around tired and upset. I'm not sure why but I'd gather it has something to do with the New England Patriots losing. You might be shocked that I didn't watch the game, as you know I'm a pretty huge sports fan. And I know, I know, it's sad that I didn't watch but sometimes when you get the perfect combination of advertisement, John Cougar Mellencamp, and fate, things just go in their own direction. Allow me to explain.

I was tuned into Football Night In America aka, the Most Akward Football Pregame Show in America for the Pats-Colts. Jerome Bettis mumbled his way through some highlights and they argued who is the better quarterback, Peyton Manning or Tom Brady. This new and exciting debate obviously thrilled me, but it seems I had already picked a side long ago.

Then, it was onto the Sunday Night Football theme in which Pink, who looks like a girl that dressed up as Scarlett Johannsen for Halloween, screeches some nonsense. Then gametime. The first quarter was thrilling but unfortunately that's all I saw.

What happened? Well, from the start of the pregame show, through the first quarter, NBC showed John Cougar Mellencamp's "This Is Our Country" Chevy Silverado ad SIX fucking times. At first I despised it, then I hated it, then I picked up a thesaurus and I abhorred it. But a funny thing happened around the fourth viewing.

I felt I needed to test drive a fucking Silverado.

By the time it aired for the 6th time, I already had my keys in hand, ready to honor America the right way by buying a Silverado. You wouldn't believe it, but the dealership was PACKED with other godfearing Americans who wanted our country to be Chevy strong... Like a Rock!

Turns out, my wallet is wallet is more 'Like A Pummus Stone' than 'Like A Rock' so I ended up buying a faggy Cobalt, but whatever, you get my point. This ad works. And if it works for Americans and Chevy, can't it work elsewhere?

I think it can. Imagine being overseas, turning on the TV and watching this:

The camera shows a wide shot of a rustic looking vineyard in Bordeaux as a father and son share a moment before they resume picking grapes.

And the music slowly starts...

Je peux me tenir à côté des Choses que je pense avons raison
Et je peux me tenir à côté de L'idée de position
et à côté du combat

Clips of France's 1998 World Cup victory begin to roll.

Then a classroom of young kids enter the Louvre

Et je crois il y
A un rêve pour tout le monde
Ceci est notre pays
De la côte de l'est
A l'ouest roule en bas
le Dos de Route de Dixie à la maison
Ceci est notre pays

Napoleon, Jack Cousteau, Charles De Gaulle, Gerard Depardieu

Il y a la pièce assez ici
Pour la science pour habiter
Et il y a la pièce assez ici
Pour la religion pour pardonner
Et essayer de comprendre
Les autres gens de ce monde

Paintings of the historic storming of the Bastille flash before your eyes. The French directors of March Of The Penguins win the Oscar for Best Documentary. Mmmmmmmm

Ceci est notre pays
De la côte de l'est
A l'ouest roule en bas
le Dos de Route de Dixie à la maison
Ceci est notre pays

Now if that shit doesn't make you want to buy a fucking Peugeot, I don't know what will.
YouTube Clip Of The Day

P.S. Thanks Matt for the ridiculous "Our Country" lyrics. And thanks to my French teacher for the stellar translation; OR thanks to a free translation website for the incorrect French

Friday, November 03, 2006

Holding Elections on the First Wednesday after the Second Sunday Would Just Be Silly

Election time is right around the corner, and as the proprietor of the blog which won the award for, "Blog Most Read By People In A Key Political Demographic Who Prefer To Read Blogs That Make Up Facetious Awards In Order To Prove Points In Weird Roundabout Ways", I know it's my duty to educate everyone on the goings on of this election.

In Massachusetts, we have a groundbreaking election in the race for the governor. Every scenario produces a "first ever" governor.

If DemocratDeval Patrick wins, Massachusetts will have it's first black governor. Yes, it only took until 2006. And you wonder why everyone thinks Massachusetts is so racist.

If RepublicanKerry Healey wins, we will have our first elected female governor. Kerry Healey also looks like the least fun person of all time.

If Green Party candidateGrace Ross wins, we'll have our first lesbian governor who still wears Zubaz

And, if Independent Christy Mihos wins we'll have our first batshit insane governor who looks decidedly like an Oompa Loompa

It looks like Patrick will win pretty easily, but it's still been an entertaining race. Grace Ross has been making the most sense but since she has no money, no legitimate political party, no weight loss plan, no orthodontist, and no sense of style she won't win. Christy Mihos the Independent in the race is certifiably in-fucking-sane and has no real valid points. He's filthy rich and made all his money from founding Christy's mini-marts and has a serious fake tanning problem. Kerry Healey has the award winning combination of having no personality, no grasp at how normal people live their lives, and the unfortunate perma-connection to Mitt Romney. Mitt Romney wasis the current goveror of the Bay State. For the past year and a half he's been everywhere but Massachusetts, campaigning for the Presidency. People around here are pissed about it, but we shouldnt be surprised. He did the same thing to be Winter Olympics Chairman in Utah, and if he wins the Presidency, don't be surprised if, around year 3, he applies for British citizenship and runs for Prime Minister.

Alot of people are worried that John Kerry's comments will affect the Democrats one way or another. In case you've been under a rock, or under a bridge, as most of my Troll demographic tends to be, Kerry made some comments about troops in Iraq that were either inflamatory, or a botched joke. Knowing Kerry's track record of being a troop and a bad joker, I agree with the latter, but that's not my point.

Instead of this, I think we should worry about people with 'Support The Troops' bumper stickers. Why, you say? Well, people with 'Support The Troops' bumper stickers are clearly deranged. Think about it.

Every American, whether they agree with the war or not, supports the troops. No one wants those kids to die, that would be insane. So, by my logic, anyone who wants to advertise that they support something inherently good is seriously flawed.

It's like Ugg Boots.

Everyone wants to walk comfortably and by Katelyn's account, "Ugg Boots are like walking on clouds". So, I have no problem with Ugg Boots in general, but when people wear them over their pants, it's flaunting the fact that they want to be comfortable when they walk. That's silly. And it looks retarded.

So, do as I do, friends of blog. When you drive around and see someone with a 'Support The Troops' bumper sticker, tail them. Chances are, you'll find them burying a body, setting fire to something, or doing anything else that is easily deflected by the fact that they do something they're supposed to do so much that they need a bumper sticker to prove it.

This whole Reverend Ted Haggard thing is fantastic. Here's the long and short of it: A pastor from one of those mega-churches who is adamantly against gay marriage gets busted for soliciting a male escort.

It gets better...

He says he bought crystal meth from the escort and got a massage

It gets better...

He claims he only bought the meth because he was curious, but didn't use it and threw it out. Also, nothing sexual happened with the male escort.

It gets better...

The male prostitute's name?




Have you joined the obnoxiously named Facebook group created in this blog's honor? Have you told your friends to read the blog? Have you decided to comment so it's not just my idiot friends critiquing my grammar? Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior? Wouldn't it be awesome if my blog went hardcore evangelical Christian (minus the meth and gay sex) all of a sudden?

YouTube Clip Of The Day

Best. Live. Band. Ever.

(peep the percussionists)
An Open Letter To The Guy Who Held The Door Open For Me While I Was Still A Great Distance Away

Hey, you down that corridor. Hey, thanks for holding the door for me.

No, wait up, I'm almost there. Hold on, here I come.

Wow, finally made it. Hey, I'd like to thank you for holding that door for me but I think I'm cramping up. Don't mind me while I catch a quick breath.

You wouldn't happen to have any orange slices? Perhaps some Gatorade? Maybe an inhaler?

No on all counts? Wow, just my luck.

Anyways, before I properly thank you, let me just relace my Cross Trainers. Yikes, my ankle might be sprained. Pardon me, but could I perhaps borrow an Ace bandage?

No? Damn, well I'll survive otherwise.

Sorry about all of that. But, hey, I really appreciate you holding this door for me. I saw you notice me get out of my car about 300 yards back and, man was I psyched you started holding the door for me as soon as I unbuckled my seatbelt.

I don't know how you knew that I can't open doors for myself. It all stems back to this debilitating fear that, well, I won't bore you with that.

Anyways, I didnt want your act of modern day kindness to go unnoticed so I sprinted from my car to the door, lest you feel uncomfortable.

Oh, you saw me dodge that car? Yah, it was pretty close.

Well, I need to go and look for an oxygen mask, but once again, I really appreciate you holding the door for me when i was 1/4 of a mile away, making me run akwardly to accept your goodwill gesture.


A shoutout to Jimmy "Gunshot" Clark who created a Facebook group dedicated to this blog. Jimmy and I go way back to when we were RA's and would bust up parties and steal booze. Good times!

If you want to join the group, which has a completely obnoxious name (don't blame me), then here's the link. Sorry, older readers, as this link won't work if you're not a Facebook member, and I'm pretty sure signing up for Facebook after the age of 26 automatically signs you up for the sex offender registry.

YouTube Clip Of The Day