If Scarlett wants to throw a couple down because its the weekend, who the fuck am I to argue?
Alex Rodriguez bats less than .094 after 4/20, proving that he smokes weed every day (A-eh!)
Thursday(s) is (are) ladies night at Nick’s Sneaky Pete’s.
What ever happened to Paula Cole?
Fuck, what ever happened to Joan Osborne?
These are the questions that must be answered.
I was this close (this close!) to writing yesterday, about how Paula Cole wasn’t that bad looking. Then I saw the “I don’t want to wait” video and holy shit – she ain’t pretty. This girl has a face that would make…I don’t know. It’s big. Here is what I wrote yesterday, unedited. (grammar and spelling be damned!)
Way back before I started this blog (Do you even remember mid-January? Didn’t think so.) this song came on the radio while Mike and I were going to play cards at an undisclosed location. (Litterally, it had not been disclosed) I believe that we were listening to 88.3 – formerly The Saint for those of you who liked to listen to Wu-Tang’s Gravel Pit once an hour while you were in high school. Anyway, their new format is We Play Anything.
This is the reason that we heard Paula Cole. There is obviously no other possible reason to happen upon Paula Cole. In fact I don’t even remember why I looked this video up almost 4 months or more later. I have no clue. I don’t think I heard it on my way to work this morning. Something, just told me. Maybe I had flashes of it like Desmond does. Except instead of saving Charlie I find Paula Cole videos.
I think the reason I was drawn to this great/awful song was so that I could remind you of just how great/awful it is.
First we have Paula Cole, who has an indescribable face. I really can’t describe it. If you asked me what Paula Cole looks like I would say, “ .”
Then she’s wearing the tiny little t-shirt to show off her abs, which is nice.
I will wash the dishes while you go have a beer. – Perhaps the greatest song lyric ever? I say yes.
In addition to the greatness of Where Have All The Cowboys Gone, she also is responsible for I Don’t Want To Wait which is the theme from Dawson’s Creek. This alone makes her a legendary song writer. Not because the song is good, but because it is one of the most comedic songs ever written because of it’s association with Dawson’s Creek.
See, yesterday, when I wrote this, I thought the Dawson’s Creek thing was much funnier, but I couldn’t actually find any clips on YouTube (Get on it Joswick) of the song being used in funny situations.
Anywho. It’s 4:20. Let’s smoke some marijuana. Yeah! I can’t wait until June when A-Rod has 43 homeruns and 100 RBI’s and the Yankee fans start to turn on him. Sorry for wasting your time. Just thought I’d use any excuse to throw up a picture of [random hot female] and [random hot female].
Have a good weekend.
Friday, April 20, 2007
If Scarlett wants to throw a couple down because its the weekend, who the fuck am I to argue?
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Young people of America, we have a problem.
There is something wrong with them and they are starting to get a little too “uppity” for their own good. In the last week we’ve had NBA official Joey Crawford offer to fight Tim Duncan and Philadelphia Phillies’ skipper Charlie Manuel NBA Fanhouse did a tale of the tape for a potential battle between Duncan and Crawford. No one cares enough about the Phillies or some beat writer to do a tale of the tape but it would probably go something like this
Howard "Is there something in my beard?" Eskin
(This is Howard at his audition for Family Ties)
Charlie "Mad Cow" Manuel
(Manuel is seen here arguing over pizza toppings)
Here's the tale of the tape!
Eskin - 40-something probably
Manuel - 63 (numbers don't lie)
Eskin - Sportswriter thin
Manuel - Baseball Manager Fat
Eskin - Growing a kick-ass beard; ability to put on socks without need to catch his breath
Manuel - Really light-up a club house stall; apparently not the double-switch
Eskin - Chuck Norris look-alike contest runner-up 5 years running in Brattleboro, Vermont
Manuel - Recently said, "No," when asked if he wanted thrids
Weapon of choice
Eskin - The pen is mightier than the sword, but what writer doesn't have a laptop these days?
Manuel - A sword
Well, as you can see - the tale of the tape never lies - this is a pretty even match-up. I guess we'll have to just let them duke it out and see who the last guy standing is. Of course if Manuel wins he'll probably have to sit down, so in this case we'll have to see who the last man sitting is.
Anyway, my point is that these old people need to be stopped. They apparently have stopped giving a shit and are ready to take on us young people. I’m terrified of the day I ask for the last chocolate chip cookie at Mr. Subb and some old guy behind me in line decides that that was his cookie and challenges me to a fight. What the hell do I do? I mean, I want the damn cookie.
I hate to point it out, but I think Old People are the new Professional Football Players. Just how long until Don Rickles gets kicked out of a strip club for making it rain and then cracking some poor single mother’s head off the dance floor? Do you really want to live in a world where Don Zimmer starts a shoot out at a popular club in Miami?
I didn’t think so. It’s time for us to take back what’s ours. I think this is the perfect job for Pacman Jones and Chris Henry. They have 8 months until Henry has to be back at work. And after that who knows how long Pacman’s schedule is clear for? These guys have to take back the streets for us.
I say they should start with John Madden. It’s only a matter of time before the Madden cruiser gets into a fender bender and he comes out with his 9mm because somebody just caused him to drop his 6 foot long turkducken sub.
That’s why I’m writing my congressman or woman today to ask, nay, demand that our professional football players take back our streets before it’s too late. I don’t want to end up being run down by some pot bellied guy on a rascal scooter because I bought the last pair of Argyle socks at J.C. Penny. (They look sharp, don’t you judge me.)
This is a picture of the inside of John Madden’s stomach. (The little boy had spilled chocolate sauce on his shirt – the rest is dessert, er, history.)
Just wanted to let everyone (all 3 of you - Hi!) know that my computer is being quite the bitch right now so my progress writing and searching for relevant information is being slowed to a crawl. I'm trying to work on something as you read, but who knows how long it will take. Be patient and check back in later. For now I just hope you can enjoy this picture of Evangeline Lilly. For those of you who don't watch LOST, what's wrong with you?
That's The Office! NBC Thursdays at 8:30/7:30 Central!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
I had a great idea to write about today, but fuck me if I can’t remember. At least I finally have an excuse to use this picture of Tiffani Theissan. Last week a bunch of sites were using Kelly Kapowski's picture and didn't really have a good reason. I figured I should do what everyone else was doing, but I waited a week so that I could try and pass the idea off as my own.
Speaking of Tiffani Theissan, remember Fastlane? That was a great show. How about that episode with Jamie Presley? I wish I had a link to that scene. You know, the one where Joy and Kelly make out in a hot tub because the story calls for it? Whoever wrote Fastlane had it right. Oh, look. Here’s the link. (NSFW if your co-workers or boss aren’t into the whole “lesbian” thing.)
I still can't remember what I wanted to write about. Maybe I was going to discuss Clint Dolezel and how he is probably the greatest modern* athlete.
*Just so there isn’t any confusion, when I say “modern athlete,” I’m not counting players like Jim Brown, Jackie Robinson, Jesse Owens, Michael Jordan, Lebron James, LaDainian Thomlinson, Cal Ripken, Vince Young, or Ken Griffey, Jr. Those are not modern players in my opinion. The way I see it, “modern players” are white quarterbacks who have thrown for over 800 touchdowns in their Arena Football League careers that I’ve seen play for the Dallas Desperados in a game on ESPN2 in the last 38 hours.
That, my friends, is a modern athlete – and that is why it is my opinion that Clint Dolezel is the greatest modern athlete. Feel free to disagree, but this topic really isn’t up for discussion.
Maybe I was going to write about the absolute hilariousness of this hockey video that involves a player getting into it with a fan. But if something is already funny, I don’t know if I also have the ability to make it funny. Not like, you know, more funny, but equally funny in a different way. I don’t think I can. It would be like doing a commentary of an episode of Arrested Development. It wouldn’t work. Anygay, I’ll reiterate a point that either Deadspin or TBL made about the fact that if anything like this happened in the NBA, the league would be disbanded.
So by that rule, I probably wasn’t going to write about this new razor that will certainly keep my face smooth.
Apparently Funny or Die is the next big thing in online comedy. First we had the Ferrell Landlord video which is the biggest thing online right now. And now Perry Hilton videos which are giving Eric Christian Olsen some work. Also, Zach Galifinakis.
Any other links? Let me look.
Nope. None in there.
Okay, I think that’s it.
So Lauren and I were talking the other day and she says to me, “So, all you need to do to write a blog is put some links together, find a picture of a hot girl and you’re all set?”
Of course I had a rebuttal for just such an argument: “Nuh-uh.”
Then the next time I post on this site all it is is a collection of fucking links that nobody but me cares about. And most of them aren’t even anything I would look at multiple times so why did I share them with you in the first place? Whatever, right? No big deal. I just need to make up for the fact that I may have wasted more than 6 minutes of your life.
I think I know how. I’m going to tell you a story. It’s the story of a joke that I just came up with. First, I’ll give you the final product - I’ll tell you the joke. After I’ve told you the joke and your laughter subsides, you can go on reading to figure out how it was born.
First, the joke.
Set up: What is one place in Europe you should never use a cell phone?
Punch line: Roam, Italy.
Here’s how we got to this new state of retardation:
We played cards last night. I started well and then went down like the Hindenburg. After we finished a cell phone rang in the kitchen. It was Marvin’s as he had left it at my house. Kyle was on the other end wondering if Marvin had indeed left the phone at my apartment.
At this point my worst fear was that they were still outside in their car and they expected me to “run” the phone out to them. I didn’t want to get up, so I quickly said, “Tell Marv, I’ll bring it to work tomorrow and he can pick it up. I’ll be there at 7:30.”
I then quickly hung up before there could be any discussion. Fuck them if they thought I was going outside after 10 pm. We have a skunk after all.
Kyle didn’t call back, so I figured I was in the clear.
So last night I curled up with Marvin’s phone and went to sleep.
Ignore that last sentence.
So this morning I actually remembered to bring Marv’s phone to work with me. I set it next to my cell phone so that they could hang out and went about my tasks; 1. sign out keys, 2. read various websites, 3. google good looking women for blog use, 4. think about poker, 5. get a juice, 6. don’t fall asleep, 7. repeat.
Somewhere in between tasks 3 and 4 Marvin’s phone rang. I looked to see who it was and noticed that it said, “ROAM.” I remembered that it said the same thing when Kyle called the night before.
Being the clever asshole that I am I thought to myself, “Gee, Marv sure gets a lot of calls from Roam.” Ha-ha, right? That’s what I thought, but then I remembered that Rome is spelled differently than roam. (I do fancy myself a writer) Then I laughed some more at how clever I was.
Then I thought to myself, “Roam, Italy! Imagine if it was spelled that way! I sure wouldn’t want to use my cell phone there! I am shouting my thoughts! This is madness!”
Then I interrupted myself and said, “Madness? This! Is! Sparta!” Then I kicked in the door of a classroom, told a professor that there was plenty of earth and water “down there” and walked away defiantly. (I notice I’ve been doing a lot more shouting and kicking a lot more things in the last month.)
And that is when I came up with the Roam, Italy joke.