Archive for March, 2010

I’ve been sent to the grocery store enough times to know the drill, yet every time I get home I seem to have messed it up royally. It would seem that sometime in between being told the shopping list and walking to the car I absolutely forget everything and go rogue. From that point on I’m on my own, so let me caution all of the wives and girlfriends out there: we nod our head only to end the conversation. It’s nothing personal, there is just a limited amount of space up there seeing as how we’ve filled it with witty insults and sports facts ready to be launched at a moment’s notice. I’m afraid that if I keep filling my brain with more tasks they’ll eventually push out Walter Payton’s all time career combined net yards (21,803), and that is not a risk I am willing to take. Shopping list? Please – it’s like a receipt, as soon as any small piece of paper (receipt, post-it, traffic ticket)  is put in my hand I crumple it up and toss it on the ground. IT’S NOT MY FAULT! I have just been conditioned to do that, hell, most of the time I make a game out of it. Ever see how small you can crumple one of those? I would kick your ass at that!

Skim milk you say? How about a 4 pack of Monster instead. Lunch meat, wheat bread and mayonnaise? I’m getting a frozen pizza and calling it a day. You want me to go to the bakery section and ask for a special assortment of… that one never even had a chance, I’m most likely coming home with a donut. I will also not be held responsible for buying random shit either. Putting me in a big place like that surrounded by dozens of identical items with different brand names at different prices and bargain deals is destined to make me panic. Instead of getting paper towels I might end up with an issue of Guitar World Magazine, sue me, they’re both paper products – it’s an easy mistake. have you ever been in a cereal aisle? Holy shit – it’s dizzying. Generally everything goes blurry, I black out, then wake up at the checkout line with 26 boxes of Lucky Charms in my cart.

Don’t even get me started on the checkout line. If I end up with Kit-Kats, Now-n-Laters, and the latest issue of Quick and Easy Recipes, it’s only because I’ve spent the past 40 minutes standing behind Mildrid as she disputes the sale price on her Depends then fails to locate her checkbook. So I’ve come home with Monster, a pizza, donuts, candy and magazines… so what? Milk, bread and lunch meat are overrated. This is you’re fault anyway. If you really wanted us to remember the shopping list – you would buy an advertising slot during televised sporting events… or write it down on your chest.

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To hell with college!

Posted: March 30, 2010 in sports
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This idea that world-class athletes should have to go to college before turning pro is absolutely ridiculous. The “student-athlete” term is abused and is actually kind of an oxymoron. The entire point of going to college is to get an education that may or may not allow you to work for a higher pay rate, right? So why the hell should somebody have to go to college if they know they can make millions without going? Because the system sucks, that’s why. As far as I’m concerned, forcing a great athlete to go to college just puts them at risk of being injured or otherwise shortening their career, hampering their ability to make a living doing what they’re skilled at. Tell Lebron James he should have gone to college, he’d likely give you the $10,000 in his pocket to be quiet and leave him alone.

There are millions of people with college degrees that have average jobs and astronomical student loan debt. Hell, sometimes I use my college diploma when I run out of tee-pee. I don’t want to hear about some athletes getting extra praise for ‘sticking it out’ through 4 years of college and being a ‘student athlete’ because that is total bullshit. The only reason why somebody stays is because they know they’re not good enough to leave yet, not because they want to listen to some dickwad tell them about finite mathematics.

I’m not saying any moron with a pair of gym shoes and a dream should forgo college, what I am saying is that the ones who are gifted should be able to use college applications as coasters. What difference does it really make? Have you ever listened to post-game interviews with those athletes that did graduate from college? They nearly choke on their tongue trying to put together a sentence. It’s a good thing they spent all that time studying in college…

“But what if they get hurt, they have nothing to fall back on.” Jesus christ, please shut up, make the bleeding stop, please stop my ears from ringing. You can go to college whenever you want, but a professional athletic career is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Let’s say, for example, somebody skips college and goes pro. Then he gets his signing bonus and ends up hurt in the first game. OK – go back to college. No harm, no foul. Not to mention the fact that there is still a very good chance he remains on the team or in the league anyway. Or let’s imagine an athlete that skips college and has a decent year or two, makes a few million bucks then gets hurt. The only thing he will have to fall back on is his bed of money. Again, if he wants to go back to school, so be it; if not, he’ll probably stay in the league, don’t forget that he’s already made more money in those 2 years than I ever will in my entire life. “But most athletes are broke when their career is over.” Listen – If athletes are dumb enough to spend all their money right away that’s not my fault so I DEFINITELY will not buy that as a reason to pick college over a pro athletic career. “But they’ll miss out on the college experience.” If, by “college experience”, you mean drinking until passing out and waking up next to some random girl in a frat house every weekend then I guess you have me… Unless you replace ‘girl’ with ‘supermodel’ and ‘frat house’ with ‘mansion’, then the win goes to the athletic career… again. What I’m saying is that for these people, college is completely useless and shouldn’t be forced on them. I am so sick of the people who vehemently stress the importance of getting a college education before turning pro. It is so completely righteous and pompous to tell somebody else they should wait to live an absolute dream just because you’re average an unexciting just like the rest of us. So shut up, stop being so damn jealous and let them do what they’re here to do. If you had the opportunity to make millions but passed it up to live in a dorm room and eat ramen – congratulations, you’re an asshat.

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So Ricky Martin is officially openly gay…. who gives a shit? Seriously, why is this news? When I read the news I’m a little more interested in whether or not we’ve pissed off somebody else that would like to nuke our asses to smithereens, but I guess that would be too much to ask. Instead we get Ricky Martin’s smiling face and a headline that reads “Ricky Martin says he’s gay!” Shoot me. I beg for the day when I can go to a major news outlet and see a headline like, “If you’re surprised, you’re an idiot – Ricky likes dicky.” It’s concise, engaging and completely accurate. Or maybe a poll – “Ricky Martin: Pitcher or Catcher?” I’d love to meet a Westboro Baptist Church member/Ricky Martin fan (In case you don’t know the Westboro nutjobs – they’re the psychopaths who protest everywhere with the “God Hates Fags” signs).

In all seriousness, I don’t care if he or anybody is straight, gay, bi or likes to cover their self in peanut butter and go to the dog park. What I do care about is that it’s presented in a way that suggests we should all be shocked. You should have known he was gay anyway, I didn’t believe “She Bangs” and you shouldn’t have either. Besides, if this picture wasn’t a dead giveaway – you need to get your gaydar checked.

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He’s our asshole

Posted: March 29, 2010 in Whatever
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I recently saw Hot Tub Time Machine (hilarious) and Craig Robinson’s character had a line that got me thinking. While defending his friend he said something to the effect of, “Everybody has that asshole friend, and he’s our asshole.” I’m sure everybody has that friend, the one your wife or girlfriend can’t stand, the one your mom told you to stop hanging out with years ago and the one who you are always bailing out of trouble (pun intended). This is the guy that, when mentioned to your significant other before heading out for the night, immediately gets you put in the dog house before you even step out of the door. Even if you came home with flowers you’d still be in time-out just for being in the moron’s presence. This guy is usually found making terribly bold statements, telling everybody they need to “start living”, “grow a pair” or otherwise encouraging debauchery. It’s always fun to hear what comes out of his mouth next seeing as how there is little to no filter on there whatsoever. If the guy at the end of the bar has his collar popped, it’s likely our friend will tell him he’s a douche bag. It is then also likely you are going to get clocked in the face on account of your buddy’s free spirit. Have you ever gotten that call? “Listen man, um, could you come pick me up…?” Yes you have, and you probably went and got his dumb ass didn’t you? But we keep hanging out with this guy, letting him drag us into whatever awkward situation comes next. Why? Probably because he is a lot of fun to be with, that’s why. Idiot or not, the guy is entertaining and chances are there is a part of you that wishes you had the gall to say or do some of the nonsense he does. Don’t lie either, you know you’ve pushed him too. Egging him on to do something idiotic just because you know he’ll do it. After a few shots you’ll have him completely convinced that the bar owner would love nothing more than to have him pouring his own drinks from behind the bar in his underwear. What’s a punch in the face by a bouncer if it’s all in the name of a great time? You could just go to the bar and hang out… but it’s much more fun to watch your buddy throw darts between his legs like an NFL long snapper. When it’s all said and done, when the smoke clears and his court date is set, there is a good chance this trifling trouble maker also happens to be a great friend. So the next time you’re explaining to the bartender that your friend didn’t mean she was a bitch, or when you’re at the ATM to get the bail – remember he would do the same thing for you, probably..maybe….well there’s a good chance he would. If you’re thinking about your group of friends and can’t seem to figure out which person this is…. it’s you.

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This picture was taken at a bar by my friend Paul (thanks!). See kids – school is overrated. You can own a bar, run a business and make a living while never even being required to grasp the English language. Maybe ‘white beaters’ DO exist…. thoughts?

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Senile slots

Posted: March 28, 2010 in Pictures
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This poor old lady seemed to have gotten on a plane for Vegas but somehow ended up in a gas station on Milwaukee’s south side. The irony of this hilarious find is that she happens to be playing the slots directly next to a rack of maps…. Well, on the bright side – if she hits 777 her motorized cart gets gassed up free for an entire year.

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I recently said that if my facebook fan group got to 1000 fans, I would sport a mullet and put the pictures up. As fate would have it, I caught a glimpse of this dashing young man at the store and couldn’t help myself from taking a few snapshots. A sweet mullet like this deserves appreciation and  recognition but I have hidden his identity to protect his awesomeness. If the owner of this delightful ‘do went public he would undoubtedly be mauled with adoring women and buried in tons of fan mail. We’ll let him don denim jackets, rock out to Bon Jovi and cruise in his Trans Am in peace. Rock on dude, rock on.

Welcome to the party! Cue Livin' on a Prayer

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