So, Casino Drive has been scratched from the Belmont Stakes. Do you know what that means?
Ah! Shit. That hurt.
Oh, did I mention I went to the Emergency Room and got stitches last night? (Ouch) How could I? (Fuck) I've barely written anything. If you'll indulge me, I'll tell you my harrowing tale.
So I was washing dishes...
*Hangs head in shame*
I'm a woman.
So I put my hand inside a drinking glass to wash it and the sheer force of my massive
hands meat hooks caused the glass to burst slicing my pinky finger from my second to third knuckle. There was a lot of blood.
I walked next door and politely asked Lauren to drive me to the hospital. She's says I was as white as a ghost, but I'm pretty sure I looked really cool.
We got to the hospital and waited. The wait wasn't too long because it was early evening - before all the Arbor Hill gun shot victims start to roll in. Let me tell you, the Albany Memorial Emergency Room has changed a lot since the last time I was there.
The last time was, oh - 4 years ago? Yeah around there. It was after Alive at 5 and we were at Jillian's to see Vanilla Ice preform. Seriously. Of course, it wasn't the Ice-Ice- Ninja-Rap-Vanilla Ice. It was the hardcore- Limp-Bizkit -sounding -Vanilla Ice. Needless to say, it was a hell of a show. From what we saw anyway.
My buddy Joe got into an altercation with some douche bag and was hit in the head with a bottle. We got to go to the hospital and the other kid got to go with the cops.
Anyway, since it was at night, the waiting room was packed and we even got to interact with a crazy woman in a wheelchair who may have been there for head trauma. She took quite a liking to Joe. And quite frankly, I have to say that they would have made quite a couple.
Back then the ER was pretty dingy. Yesterday - huge window-walls. A flat screen television hanging form the ceiling showing the College World Series. Good times all around.
After a few minutes of waiting I was taken into a room and received 8 stitches. Luckily, it was just a lot of skin that got cut and pushed to the side. It still looked extremely gnarly. The weirdest part about the entire ordeal was that I started to say things like "gnarly" and "funky." See, I don't usually say things like this. The injury changed my vocabulary. I described it with words that were out of character for me enough to make Lauren tell me to "stop talking like that."
Anyway, I'm OK. As you can see the injury wasn't too devestating to my blogging abilities. Though it does kind of hurt whenever I hit the question mark button.
Fuck! That hurts! No interviews for me today.
Oh yeah! Back to Casino Drive! Casino Drive is the horse that is supposedly Big Brown's only real competition in the Belmont today, has been scratched from the race. That leaves us with Big Brown - who is nursing his own hoof injury - and the field. A field of 8 horses with odds (as of yesterday) that are all between 12-1 and 50-1. Big Brown's status as such a huge favorite (2/5) combined with his injury are just screaming for you to box the field. I really don't know how much that would cost. You'd have to do a permutation or something.
Or you could use the OTB betting machine to figure it out. It's been awhile since math class, so that's probably what I'll end up doing. Happy betting!
Update: I went out to grab some lunch and go to the bank so I stopped at my local OTB. I ran up to one of the machines and punched in the trifecta box for the Stakes - $1008. I cannot for the life of me remember what this mathematical action is called = 9x8x7. That's how you figure it out.
I guess the moral of the story (Besides my days as a top math student are long gone) is that it's butt expensive to box the field in a race. Besides, Big Brown would probably still win and fuck everything up anyway. Bastard.
Update 2: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
So, Casino Drive has been scratched from the Belmont Stakes. Do you know what that means?
Friday, June 06, 2008
As you probably know, TBL is down for the count right now. It's extremely frustrating because I have 2 posts all done over there and was trying to work on the PM Roundup (Complete with Godzilla Biscuits) Anyway, here's one of the greatest things you'll have to work extremely hard to find on the internet:
I knew that I had been saving this for a special occasion. This is possibly the most ridiculous, funny thing ever put to paper by the National Lampoon guys. It's called The Utterly Monsterous, Mind-Roasting Summer of O.C. and Stiggs and if you're trying to kill time while The Big Lead is down this is as good as it will get. Feel free to discuss in the comments section.
We'll let you know as soon as TBL is back up and running. Hell you could even send a tip or two and I might even turn it into another post. (Or two...)
Bonus: Megan Fox
Posted by Stephen at 11:30 AM
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Kimbo Slice was just on The Dan LeBatard Show where he revealed that his next fight would be in October against Brett "The Grim" Rogers. (Audio Here) Rogers challenged Kimbo at the press conference after the Elite XC show last Saturday.
Scheduling this fight is probably the smartest move that Elite XC could make in the shadow of Kimbo's controversial fight with James Thompson. Whether Rogers came up with the idea to call out Kimbo on his own or not - this gives Elite XC a storyline to push leading up to (presumably) one of the next shows they have on CBS.
This is a dangerous fight for Kimbo. In fact, it's a fight I never thought Elite XC would schedule. Judging by what America saw on Saturday, I don't know why Rogers wouldn't be favored to win. Of course, when this fight happens, Kimbo will have another 4-5 months of training. Hopefully, Bas Rutten will work in some cardio this time.
[Hat tip: cortes]
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
So I was reading Bill Simmons' latest offering yesterday afternoon when I noticed two things:
Chad Johnson took over as Editor-in-Chief of ESPN The Magazine for our Revenge of the Jocks issue
Or at least I saw some variation of that on the Simmons' page.
2. ESPN The Magazine has an e-mail address at Gmail. (firstname.lastname@example.org) I found this odd because when I was doing the Master's Live-Blog Live-Blog and traded a couple e-mails with ESPN's Jason Sobel (Sorry, I'll stop name-dropping.) he had an addy @espn.com. What's up wth that?
Anyway, seeing an actual e-mail for an ESPN person, I decided to e-mail a couple jokes. Something along the lines of:
"Hey, since Chad Johnson is editing the magazine this week is he going to threaten not to publish it and then have it show up in my mail box on schedule?" And "Is the entire issue going to be about Chad Johnson?"
Ha ha! Man I'm funny. The point is, nobody e-mailed me back. Maybe it's because my jokes sucked, but come on. I'm Cousins of Ron Mexico. A brother can't get a reply?
Then again, maybe the e-mail went directly to Ocho Cinco. I hope I didn't offend him. He might send Chris Henry after me. Shit.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Take It Back! If I Wanted Something Your Finger Had Touched I Would Have Ordered The Inside Of Your Ear!
I learned something about blogging last night. Apparently, when a fellow blogger - Heather in this case - sends me a story related to a subject that I have been known to write about, I'm supposed to relay this story to you guys. After the string of Utica Club posts towards the end of last week, Heather - who had a bit of a rough birthday weekend - sent me the following story. Of course I've broken it up to make snide comments and clarify things. Enjoy:
So I went out to dinner with my parents last night and they were talking about their "crazy" college days at Plattsburgh.Are there any other kinds of days at Plattsburgh? The place has an Applebee's for crying out loud. Marshawn Lynch would be in Heaven.
I guess they would go to Albany parties and be beer snobs because everyone would drink Utica [Club] and they were used to good Canadian beers.La-dee-freaking-da Mr and Mrs President!
Thats when my dad decided to tell his story of Utica beer, which, until yesterday, I had never heard him acknowledge before.To be fair, Heather just turned 24, so she was too young to understand before this weekend.
Apparently in the 70s when they were going through their stone age gas crisis and everything was "going green."Um...fossil fuels! Ha!
Oh yeah - They had to fill up the tank uphill in snow both ways... What did gas cost then? 25 cents a tank? My heart goes out to the older generation. No, really.
Now, I don't want to get off on a rant here, but haven't gas prices been rising non-stop since gasoline was first provided for public consumption? Can we please stop with the fucking "Gas Prices On The Rise!" headlines every single day? Yeah, I get it. It's 2 cents higher than it was yesterday.
Qui bono - who benefits? Qui gives a shit - that's the way it's always going to be. If America invaded every oil producing country in the world today and we suddenly had unlimited resources, do you really think that gas prices are going to stop going up? Or for that matter go down? Because they aren't. So take your headlines and your news stories about record gas prices and shove them. It's like Dennis Miller once said, "Gas is more expensive than my 10-cent words."
Utica, had created wide-mouthed beer bottles with like a pull-off top.Sounds like pudding.
It actually sounded like a pudding top to me.Oh! Heather is sooo smart!
But anyways, my dad is at this party and a guy opens his Utica and begins to drink it then starts choking ("I remember my first beer")Good Beerfest reference, but to quote Kevin Smith: "Not for nothing, but I'll make the fucking jokes."
So they're all giving him shit about that, saying "It's just a beer man!!" Then he hold out his hand and there is a dead mouse in it.Doesn't that sound just like a hippie? "Wooah! It's just a beer, man! Be cool." Make sure to read it in a hippie voice. I bet that was really said, too. And that there was some contra-fucking-band involved.
Somehow a dead mouse was in his beer, and it of course ended up in his mouth when he tried to drink the refreshing beverage.I don't care how gross that is. That is a great story. I would love to see that happen at a party. Especially to someone I don't like. Hilarious. Of course, if something like that happened today, whoever gargled the mouse would own the charred remains of the brewery.
Anyway, back to how blogging works:
A blogger - Heather in this instance - sends me a somewhat related story and I write something hilarious like what you see above and then link to her blog (The Duchess of Devonshire's Gossip Guide to the 18th Century) and everybody that read this story goes there and she gets all sorts of hits. It's the blogosphere's version of buying her a beer. So basically, what I'm saying is - Heather, you owe me a beer.
Just make sure there aren't any fucking mice in it.
[The Duchess of Devonshire's Gossip Guide to the 18th Century]
Monday, June 02, 2008
It's been awhile, but today is just as good as any.
The phone rings - MOE picks up.
Roger Goodell's Secratery: Hello, this is Sheila from Commisioner Goodell's office. Is Adam there?
MOE: What? This Tyron?
RGS: Excuse me?
MOE: Oh, shit. This Jazmine? From the club?
RGS: No, this is Sheila from Commissioner Goodell's office. I have the Commissioner for Adam Jones.
MOE: Uh... hold up, yo. *Hangs up phone* Yo, Pac. Somebody's on the phone, son.
Adam: Who is it?
MOE: I don't know. Says it's Shelia. From the club.
Adam: Motherfucker, we don't know no Shelia.
MOE: Maybe it's the pizza guy.
Adam: Why would the pizza guy call?
MOE: I don't know. You order a pizza, yo?
Adam: No, did you?
The phone rings - MOE answers again.
MOE: You outside?
Commissioner: Just put Pacman on the phone.
MOE: Woah. Yo, Pac. It's for you.
Adam: Come on mother fucker. Do it like you're supposed to.
MOE: Oh, shit. *Puts phone back to his ear* You done reached the home of Pacman Jones. Please hold for Pacman Jones.
MOE sets the phone on the table and walks away. Pacman picks up.
Adam: You got Pacman.
Commissioner: Hello, Adam. This is Commissioner Goodell.
Adam: What up Goody?
Commissioner: *sighs* Nothing Adam. Listen, I've decided to grant you partial reinstatement.
Commissioner: It means you may begin participating in team activities.
Adam: You mean like, camping and whatnot?
Commissioner: Well... Yes, I guess.
Adam: Can I play football?
Commissioner: That is a privilege. You may participate in training camp and preseason games as long as your behavior stays on the up and up.
Adam: That's cool, dawg.
Commissioner: Yes. It is cool. Don't fuck it up. No strip clubs. No guns. No drugs. None of that kiddie shit or you're done. You got it?
Adam: Fuck yeah.
Commissioner: Don't make me regret this, Adam.
Adam: Peace out Goody!
Pacman hangs up the phone and runs to tell MOE.
Adam: Yo son - I can play ball again.
MOE: Nice. When?
Adam: Well, I've got to do some team building activities first.
MOE: You mean like camping?
Adam: Yeah, trust falls and shit.
MOE: So you wanna go to the club and celebrate?
Adam: No, dawg. I can't be doing that shit. I gotta turn to my new teammates for guidance.
MOE: Who you gonna call Pac?
Adam: My boy, T.O.
Pacman picks up the phone and calls Terrell Owens.
T.O.: You got T.O.
Adam: What up, boy? I'm reinstated! I can play! All I gotta do is stay out trouble. What you doin?
T.O.: Oh, nothing...
Adam: Yo, what's that noise? Are you at the fuckin' club?
T.O.: What? No...Yeah. Come on out.
Adam: Motherfucker, if I get caught in a club I'll get suspended again.
T.O.: Yeah... Here you go baby...
T.O.: Shake that ass...
Adam: Fuck. I gotta go.
T.O.: What a fu...
Pacman hangs up.
Adam: Shit son. That boy ain't no help.
MOE: You could call Tony Romo.
They both laugh.
Adam: Nah. I'll call Deion. Primetime will give me the guidance I require.
MOE: No doubt, son.
Pacamn calls Deion Sanders.
Adam: Yo, Primetime! It's your boy Pacman. I got reinstated and shit!
Deion drops the phone.
Deion: (Shouting) Baby! I dropped the phone. Come pick up the phone for me.
Adam: Hello? Deion?
Deion: (Shouting) Baby! You're a woman. I make too much income for this. Come pick up your man's phone! Be subservient, baby!
Adam: I'm fucked.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
What follows, stems from a conversation between Lauren and I.
Why do these guys dress this way? We're sitting here doing the blogging thing while we wait for the WEC show tonight and there's an episode of TapouT on. It must have been the first time Lauren had seen these guys because she expressed great confusion about their outfits.
And she was right. Why do they dress like this? I have no explanation. She suggested I turn to the blogosphere for the answers. She told me to post their picture and ask "Why do Visigoths do this?"
I said, "Huh?" I had her repeat the word "Visigoth" 12 times before she told me to just go away. After some more bugging, she explained Visigoths to me. I won't even bother trying to explain it to you because I'd muck it up - I'm sure. She did however, find me these pictures that get the point across.
So seriously, why do the guys from Tapout dress like asshats?