Friday, July 31, 2009

The Death of G Money

G Money is getting married tomorrow, folks. He will never be the same. The ball and chain will be securely fastened to his testicles and we will never see him again. This is my best attempt to eugoogalize the great G Money. Okay, it is not really my attempt. I have have gotten some of the loyal commenters throughout the years to contribute. Enjoy.

G$, we’ll certainly miss you and your humor after your nuptials, so in order to properly eugoog-a-lize you, I’ve decided to edit the fine song “Mother” by Danzig just for you.

G Money!
Tell the Fuckeyes not to walk your way
Tell the Fuckeyes that Tressel ain’t shit
And you mean
What you say
G Money!

G Money!
Can you love A-Rod for life?
Keep your gay thoughts from your brand new wife?
G Money!
G Money! Gonna tell you some truth tonightKobe’s better than LeBronG Money!You’re about to seal your fateBut if you wanna drink Crown with meI can show you what its likeTill you’re pukingYou’re about to seal your fate
And if you wanna drink Crown with meI can show you what its-G Money! Tell Albert H. not to spike my face
The ‘Skins ain’t winning the NFC EastG Money!
G Money! LeBron is confiscating tapes Cleveland’s chances are going up in flamesG Money!

You’re about to seal your fate
And if you wanna find hell in lifeMarriage can show you what its likeTill your p-whippedYou’re about to seal your fateAnd if you wanna find hell in lifeMarriage can show you what its-Yea

-Tony B.

To my blogging friend G-Money,Our paths crossed a few years back.You followed my site and I followed yours,Then I retired and you had to pick up the slack.When we met that time in Columbus,You brought Peyton and had a few drinks.I had Rosie, Frank and others with me,Then I noticed you gave me quite a few winks.I brushed the winks aside,Surely you couldn't be gay.But then you whispered in my ear,"Do you want to go behind the dumpster and play?"But now you're getting married,Confusing us even more.I’m just wondering on your honeymoon,Whose ass is going to be sore?I assume your spouse is a girl,But I guess I could be wrong.Because one thing is for sure,You sure love the dong.Good luck in marriage,I hope you know what you’re in for.Because getting laid or blow jobs,They are no more.

-J Beanie

A list of things that Ill miss about G$:
1. Hmmm.
2. This is the worst case of writers block that Ive ever had. Why? Because I cant think of a single thing that Ill miss about this asshole! G$ is everything that I hate:
1. Yankees fan
2. Anti-Ohio State
3. Anti- Browns
4. Anti- Tigers
5. NBA fan
Now that I think about it, I dont even know why I read this shit. I think I will miss She$ more. She was one of my roommates for the past 8 months. I will miss her cooking, keeping the house spotless, folding my laundry when its in the dryer (instead of peeing on it or burning it like my old roommates would),her cooking, and not getting too pissed when I roll in at 3:00 AM on a drunken Saturday night with a car full of chicks ready to get naked in the hot tub/my bedroom. Yes, I said cooking twice because shes damn good. If G$ isnt 400 lbs by this time next year its because he has aids.
Actually, I will miss G$s depressing posts after his teams get throttled in the playoffs (see October 2006 when the Tigers murdered the Yankees who had the greatest lineup ever). I will also miss his ruthless jokes after a horrible tragedy. You will be missed, G$ (kind of). In all seriousness- good luck. The blogosphere isnt the same without you.


G$ 9/30/80 - 8/1/09The death of G$ is sad day, indeed. He leaves behind a legacy of doing mass Jaegerbombs at the Stube on Saturday nights, being a terrible Golden Tee player and being one of the great doormen in history. I will miss him being an asshole every football Saturday, no matter if the Bucks won or lost. I will miss kicking his ass on the golf course every time we played. I will miss his exhilarating rants on MAC Football and Basketball. And in the words of Cosmo Kramer, "You can forget about watching TV while you eat because that's when you talk about your day." All the fun and freedom of your single paradise is over.RIP G$


I will be brief...even though I have never met G$, I have a pretty good feel of who this man is...he is a man who stands for drinking - sports - sex - women...but I want to bid those character traits of his goodbye...

I have seen good men, who also had the same traits, change as they were gripped by the wretched limbs of wedlock...I saw friends and co-workers change from men to apron wearing metrosexuals...a friend of mine has given up drinking and fantasy football because of the bonds of wedlock...I see a similar fate for the great G$...soon he will be giving up his blog...not cheering for the Redskins...and losing interest in fantasy football...eventually sex will become a thing of the past...

In 10 years you will be a bald, fat fella who has to go to soccer practice with your kid on a Saturday afternoon in the fall instead of watching a monster college football game -- then drive in your mini-van and pick-up the other snotty nosed brat from piano lessons just to get home in time to make dinner -- and at the end of the day, you will be too tired to have your monthly sex session with your wife...

So I bid you adieu G$ - to the man that you are today...a good man, a man's man...God Bless You...


Ah, G$ we hardly knew ye. Once we woke every morning to your somewhat witty,sometimes amusing and totally gay blog posts. You were free to hang with your gay friends and indulge in whatever homoerotic fantasies you chose. Now you have decided to take a wife and all of that will come to a screeching halt. Your free time will be filled with redecorating, trips to Home Depot and Ikea, and yard work, lots and lots of yard work. It's sad when a young man freely chooses misery over freedom. Welcome aboard the ship of the whipped.


G$ is getting married. Let us not be sad about this. Marriage will most likely make him more angry and bitter than he already is. This is great news because it should lead to more angry and bitter posts at the money shot. Yes life as G$ once knew it is now over. here is a piece of advice: You can be a happily married man or the king of your castle. I choose to be a happily married man.

-Upstate Underdog

Thursday, July 30, 2009


The best things in life truly are free. Fuck you, Red Sox fans. Fuck you very much.

I Just Don't Understand

For those of you who don’t know me, I’m J Beanie. I used to run a blog but retired recently. G$ and I became “blogger friends” or the only friends more gay than actual gay friends. But G$ asked me to do some work for him and I have never got around to doing anything until now. (Don’t know if he told you that Mr. Ace but hope you don’t mind sharing this space every once and a while.) So here is what’s on my mind this morning.

So you’re dating this great girl. You have a long history with her. You took a chance on her when she was young by dumping your aging girlfriend because you saw the signs of her getting fat, lazy, having a tendency to go MIA and being pretty much worthless. This girl you are with now isn’t a 10 by any means but she’s a solid 8-to-9 – no doubt a good looking girl who can turn heads. As a couple, you are coming off a great year when everything went your way: Great trips, great presents, great sex, etc. Things currently are a little bit rough, not bad, but rough. Outside pressures have being stressing both you out and your friends are trying to pull you down with drugs, swinging and eating Oreos out of each other’s asses. But the sex remains great, she’s still a knockout and you feel comfortable with her. Would you ever dump her for 15-year old average looking girl who may or may not become beautiful one day and even if she does you can’t do anything with her for three years? Of course not. Especially not even when your current girlfriend has promised you at least another year and a half of great sex and a great relationship. You would never trade in a sure thing for an unknown.

That’s what I don’t get about baseball, especially the Cliff Lee trade. Lee was the current girlfriend who you have been with forever and have built something great with. The Indians didn’t want another year of great sex (pitching) so they dumped him for the average looking 15-year old. Not even a good looking 15-year old. Now we have to wait and see if any of these minor leaguers are any good instead of enjoying another year with Lee.

Lee was going to be in Cleveland next year. There is no way Mark Shapiro can honestly think the Indians are a better team now, or will be a better team next year without Cliff Lee. He said that but there’s no way he can mean it. The Tribe isn’t that bad of a team. I know they suck this year but it’s mainly because of the bullpen. They are about one or two starters away (and Jake Westbrook is coming back soon) and a decent pen from being contenders. Bullpens come and go every year. Next year some of these young guys might get it and some of the vets could turn it around and make the Indians a solid relief corps. Cleveland could have contended in 2010. It’s not like the AL Central is the AL East where you have to be 30 games over .500 to have a chance. Ten games over will win the division.

The Indians can still contend in 2010 but it’s unlikely now and will be impossible if Vic Martinez is gone too. Even if the Tribe has a solid year next year, will anyone be around to watch/care? I think this trade of Lee has turned off almost the entire fan base. They will be lucky to draw 10,000 for each remaining home game. What’s the most frustrating is last year the Indians became the first team to trade a Cy Young winner from the previous year. That worked out so good for them they decided to do it again.

I don’t understand this about baseball. As soon as you have a bad season, you trade all your good players to… what? Build a better team in three-four years? Doesn’t anyone care about winning now? This doesn’t happen in any other sport. Teams rebuild all the time but to trade your best player, the Cy Young winner, for a bunch of guys who more than likely not going to make the big leagues makes very little sense.

On top of all that, Wedge and Shapiro are probably gone after the year. That leaves the next administration in charge of cleaning up their mess. There is a very small window of success for that administration. Wait. This sounds familiar. One coach and GM come in and screw things up and it’s up to the next coach and GM to right the ship only things are so screwed up they have no chance of doing anything positive and they get fired and the cycle repeats itself. That’s right everyone. The Cleveland Indians have just become the Cleveland Browns. Got to love being a Cleveland fan!

(PS - the image has nothing to do with the post, just thought I'd start your day off with a hot chick that had something to do with baseball.)

No Son, Swimming Is For Douche Bags

Just a few weeks back Mrs. Ace dragged me off to some cult meeting where everybody ran around in speedo's and chanted gay little chants every time a kid jumped in water. A was later told that this was a swim meet. Lame. At least if it were a cult meeting I might have got to see a human sacrifice...or at least an elephant walk. So this got me thinking about what other sports I would never allow my son to participate in. Yes, I said son. You may not know this but I have superior DNA which allows me only to create men. If by some tragedy I would have a daughter, and she wasn't aborted, she would be forced to stay away from all sports ending in "-ball" because I don't want her to catch that very contagious carpet munching virus. Anyways, five sports my son will never be allowed to play.

1. Swimming. Swimmers are just some weird fuckers. If you're a swimmer, I'm sorry. Not sorry for saying you're a weird fucker, but sorry for you. I have never felt more out of place then I did at that swim meet. These people were literally getting boners about how fast little Timmy swam 200 meters. Every time the kids head would come above the water the people cheering for him would scream "GO!" Listen fucktards, don't you think the kid knows to "go." That's what the fuck he is out there for. You don't need to remind him every four seconds. If you really want to help the kid out buy him some shoulder pads and send him to football practice...fucking freaks.

2. Tennis. Where do I even start? Every once in a while I will go out and play some tennis, only because Mrs. Ace claims she was once a young prodigy and I feel the need to bring her back to reality. There is nothing wrong with a little tennis, but just a little. Sure, it just starts as tennis, but next thing you know your son is dressing like a figure skater and wearing capri pants. Then you throw in the grunting, and it is all time gay.

3. Wrestling. Have you ever heard of Ringworm? I don't know exactly how it happens, but wrestlers get all sweaty while humping each other into submission and then the wrestling mats don't get cleaned. So then the next group of wrestlers hump each other all over the last groups sweat and they get ringworm. Then the ringworm travels throughout your body and grows into a 40 foot tapeworm. Then after two weeks you have to take a piss really bad and -Boom- you have a giant tapeworm making its way out of your urethra. Stay off the mats kids, your penis will thank you. Singlets are for fags.

4. Cross Country. My son will not run for fun. Also, let me make a distinction between CC and Track & Field. Track is okay as long as the distance is less than 400 meters. Anything that falls into the Field category is gay, but doesn't require running 500 miles so it is not nearly as gay as CC. Usain Bolt is fucking awesome. 100 lb. Nigerian's who run 50 miles a day are lame.

5. Baseball. There is no mainstream sport that I hate more than baseball. It bores me out of my fucking mind. Tee ball is fucking pointless. When kids get base hits just by knocking over the tee something is fucking wrong. Little League is just as pointless. Little Jimmy has a beard as a nine year old and hits a home run every at bat and never gives up a hit. Then, when little Jimmy is 17, he is still 5'6" but instead of knocking balls out of the park he is knocking up liquor stores for Cobra. Does anybody even like baseball anymore? The sport is dying and my son will have no part of it. Little Ace will be a sychronized swimmer before he plays baseball...that's what Dustin did as a pre-teen and he turned out just fine. Plus, I believe it is the easiest sport for pedophiles to infiltrate. G Money is an umpire for fuck's sake! How disturbing is that? You wouldn't want your kid withing three miles of him, let alone three feet.

Leave your hate in the comments, please. Or let us all know what your cockboy of a son will participate in.

I've Got A Story To Tell

Chris Cooley* here, the "gayest tight end in the NFL", reporting for duty. I can't believe I have the honor of writing a guest post for The Money Shot. Every morning when I wake up I run to the toilet, drop a deuce, and read the Money Shot--okay, first, I bang my smoking hot wife, but then I really have to take a dump...on her chest-- Where was I? Oh yeah, guest post. Mr. Ace reached out to me a couple weeks back and told me that he wanted me to write a special guest post for G Money. Apparently this is Mr. Ace's idea of a wedding gift. (You're damn right.)

What many of you don't know is that I actually met G Money one time in D.C. Well, sort of. It was during training camp back in 2007. Daniel Snyder came down on the field and told us that we were going to have a child coming from the Make-A-Wish foundation and he really wanted to meet all the players. I was pumped, I love hanging out with retards. I especially enjoy the ones that shout out random things like "titty sprinkles" or "tampon dick shit" and are liable to attack their care takers at any moment...but who doesn't. So, yeah, like I said, I was pumped to mix it up with this little mental defect.

Then Daniel Snyder tells me some bad news. It turns out that this little fella suffers from a serious disease known as "Gingervitis." Gingervitis is a highly contagious disease that causes mutated skin pigmentation, the loss of your soul, and spontaneous combustion. So I throw on my SARS mask, just to be safe, before we meet the "special" guy.

I can't believe my fucking eyes. It is a 26 year old man. Sure, he did have Gingervitis, but he is a grown ass man. Not only is he a grown ass man, he is a grown ass man dressed up like Sheriff Gonna Get Ya and is chasing around Clinton Portis with a pair a pink, fuzzy handcuffs. This was the coolest little retard I had ever laid eyes upon, even if he was 26. I would have jumped in and helped Clinton out, but part of me wanted to see if his retard strength could overcome Clinton. And then if he did get ahold of Clinton, what would he do once he got those pink, fuzzy hand cuffs on him? Unfortunately, I never got to see that happen. It turns out Derrick Dockery hates Gingers just as much as you or I do and he clothes-lined G Money and damn near took his face off. He was unconscious so we strapped him into a wheelchair, tied him to a bus headed for Ohio, and sent him on his way.

That was the last we had ever heard of G Money around these parts. Daniel Snyder had a restraining order placed against G Money that required him to not come within one mile of the Redskins' facilities. Glad to see he is still fighting the good fight, though.

Oh yeah, my wife is fucking hot. Here are some pictures.

(*Not really Chris Cooley retarts)

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Fuck You Very Much, Brett Favre

It's about fucking time. The seemingly endless Brett Favre comeback saga has finally ended--at least for a couple days. I, for one, am glad that it's over. He has held us all hostage long enough. But seriously, what a piece of shit. Brad Childress is already regarded as one of the worst coaches in NFL history and now you lead him on this wild goose chase only to have him come away with his dick in his hand. What a fucking prick.

I can't lie though, I am incredibly disappointed that Favre didn't come back. I was really looking forward to his epic failure with the Vikings. With the way he played down the stretch last year, I was having dreams of his shitty play snowballing throughout the regular season and ending in an avalanche of suck that might leave him paralyzed on the field. I was just waiting to see Brett Favre get yanked in Week Nine for Tarvaris Jackson. How great would that have been? The Vikings would have been an absolute train wreck down the stretch and Brett Favre has taken that away from us. Damn you Brett Favre, damn you.

So what does this mean for Favre? I don't have a clue. This circus isn't over just yet and he is already telling people that he isn't sure about his decision. It's still blatantly obvious that he wants to play and the Vikings would still take him all the way up until the very end of August. If he doesn't come back this year, then he will most certainly be entertaining the idea of a comeback next year. And the next year. And the next year. Hell, if Jeff George can make a run at a comeback at 41 then Favre might pull this shit until he is 50. We can only hope that the rest of the NFL will get smart and not entertain this dick anymore. You will not win with Brett Favre, don't even pick up the phone.

As far as the Vikings go...yikes. Brad Childress and drunkard Allen can say whatever they want about their confidence in their current guys, but they know that's a crock of shit. If they were so confident they wouldn't have been hanging on some old man's every word for the last three months. You might as well just give Childress his walking papers now. They are going to have the worst starting QB in the NFL this year...that is not named Jake Delhomme. Adrian Peterson is a beast, but there is only so much he can do without the help of a competent quarterback, especially when the playoffs roll around. I think the Vikings are still the favorite in the NFC North--but everybody's favorite is Detroit--despite their shitty quarterback play, but they are doomed to get bounced from the playoffs in the first round, just like last year. But nobody in the NFC North is really relevant, so who gives a shit.

I am ready for my first football season in 19 years that does not involve a bitch named Favre. Aren't you?

R.I.P. Jim Johnson

I don't know why, but this news really came as a surprise to me. Johnson always seemed like he had a sort of Clint Eastwood persona that could grit his teeth and push through whatever was in his way. His most recent bout with cancer proved to be too much. And I don't know why, but my immediate reaction was a tear up like a just lost somebody close to me. I have never met this man and have only actually seen him in person a handful of times, but yet I feel such an attachment.

I could go on forever about the accolades he deserves and how he is one of the greatest defensive strategists the NFL has ever seen. But he has been so much more than that to so many people, like Baltimore Ravens head coach John Harbaugh:
"I loved Jim Johnson. This is a sad day for so many people who were touched by this great man. Ingrid and I, the Harbaugh family, and the Ravens have Jim’s wife, Vicky, and the Johnson family in our thoughts and prayers. Jim was a tremendous teacher of football and life. He had a special ability to bring out the best in people while getting you to see the best in yourself. He saw potential and developed it. He made me believe I could coach at this level. In football, he was a pioneering and brilliant strategist, changing the way defense is played in the NFL. For me, he was a father-type mentor, and above all, a cherished friend. He belongs in the Hall of Fame. I will miss him so much."
Brian Dawkins:
“This is a sad, sad day for myself and my Philadelphia family. Jim was tailor-made to coach in Philadelphia. He was a tough coach who wasn’t afraid to let you know how he was feeling, but at the same time, he cared about us deeply. He was an absolute blessing to me with the way he used me on the football field and allowed me to show my God-given ability. His confidence in me meant so much—he looked to create new defenses each week to utilize my talents. I have been praying for him every day, and those prayers won’t stop now. I’ll be praying for his family and their comfort during this difficult time.”
R.I.P. Jim Johnson.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

A Little NFL Rundown

The NFL season is finally beginning. I never thought I would miss watching big burly men rub all over each other so much...I guess that is what Dustin's Uncle feels like when he comes back to visit. The NFL has created some buzzworthy news over the last couple of days and now it is time for me to address these items.

Is Plaxico's career over? Honestly, right now I would have to bet on yes. The only chance he is going to have to play football again will be this year, and that is if Roger Goodell will allow it and his trial doesn't start in 2009. Early on I was in favor of him being in jail just like anybody else who would have broken that law, but now I'm not so sure. Plax is a fuck, no denying that, but I just don't think it is worth giving him jail time. In my view, Plax isn't a threat to society so there is no reason to waste our resources in locking him up for a year or two. Fine him something along the lines of $5 mil and tell him to pay up or get locked up. Then again, he did wear sweatpants to the club...fuck it, fry his ass.

God dammit T. O., you are right. I don't recall ever uttering those words, but I have to agree with T. O.'s general stance on the Mike Vick/Ron Mexico situation: No Suspension. No, I don't think Roger Goodell should go spend two years in the pen, but I do think he should be empathetic when considering his ruling. Vick has served his time(and then some) and did everything that the courts asked of him. He has lost hundreds of millions of dollars. He committed some heinous acts, and I love animals, but he is a free man and the NFL shouldn't have anything hanging over his head. With that being said, I think Goodell is giving him a pretty fair deal. I don't think Vick needs any extra motivation to get his shit together, but if he did the commish definitely gave it to him. If Vick does everything that Goodell asks of him then Vick should miss no more than two games, or at least that's what I think. Vick will be with his new team by the end of next week. I'm thinking Cleveland, the Dawgpound would love him.

The Baltimore Ravens will be the first team to not start a WR. Remember when the Eagles held open tryouts under Vermeil back in the day? Yeah, I think Baltimore should seriously consider that approach. I can name one wide receiver, Mark Clayton, on that team and that is only because he was mentioned on ESPN yesterday as being the only receiver on the Raven's roster to have caught more than 15 balls last season. The Ravens WR's might have been the worst in the league even if Mason and Bennett were on the roster. Now, they might be worse than the Eagles lineup of Freddie Mitchell, Todd Pinkston, and James Thrash back in 2001. Baltimore is desperate for a receiver and I'm usually not one to give advice to another team, but I have just one name for them...Rae Carruth.

Please science no, not Todd Stinkston. Speaking of the gaping vagina that is Todd Pinkston, he is back with the Eagles. When I first heard this I nearly had a stroke, shit myself, and pissed out a testicle. But the good news is he is just at training camp as a coaching intern. The bad news is he is in contact with my Philadelphia Eagles. However, with Baltimore's severe need at WR and Harbaugh's familiarity with Pinkston from his days in Philadelphia, he may be getting a call to suit up this season. I may also shit rainbow sherbet, but hey, it could happen.

Did Reggie Bush just dump the Superbooty? The most troubling news of all is that another NFL star(sort of) ended it with an attention starved hottie. It's official, Reggie Bush has dumped Kim word yet on whether he has dumped her ass. It is no secret that I, and the rest of you, would do dirty, dirty things to Ms. Kardashian...and her ass. I could wax poetically for the next two weeks about that beautiful behind, but instead I will just copy over some comments from The Big Picture's Would You Do Kim Kardashian post:
"Just look at that ass, and try to imagine saying "no" if that was wagging in your face. You don't even need to invoke the rstiles principles - your penis would do the work for your brain."

"ANY MAN...and I do mean ANY MAN that says no to this is gay..."

"I bet she would be a creamy fuck..."

"Yes Please. And she would let you film it!"
Indeed. But I don't see how this move can help Reggie on the field, though. The guy is an overrated pussy. He will never carry the load. It he gets more than 15 touches he will break. Not sure what dumping a hot piece of ass can do to help that.

Training camp is here, fellas. Just another month and we will actually get to see some real football being played. I'm already getting a little giddy, I can't wait to hear GMoney's excuse this year as to why his Redskins suck again. Whoo, I'm hot for some pigskin.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Another Pep Talk From The Tea Bagging Bandit

Do you guys like Oreo's? I know I do. That's why my fucktard brother and I did the whole DSRL thing, free fucking Oreo's for life. Seriously though, did you see me lick those things. I'm the fucking champ of Oreo licking. Nobody can come close to me, not even one of those Williams' bitches. I love Oreo's, and I love licking them. Hell, I love Oreo's so much that I forced Venus to create one with me.

Peyton Manning* here folks, bringing the funny back to The Money Shot. No, Venus and I didn't really have an "Oreo" baby. I punched her in the stomach and then made Eli suck out the aborted fetus. Mastercard said they would pull my endorsements if they ever found out I was with anyone who wasn't a WASP.

I've got a lot on my mind today, so I'm just going to let it all go and see where it takes me.

Can you believe the University of Tennessee hired that cockboy Lane Kiffin? He is lucky I was on vacation when they made that hire or else he would still be tugging on the crypt keepers balls begging for his buyout money. No way I would hire that prick. I would hire his wife to give me a rimjob, but that's about it. That clown isn't even qualified to coach the D.C. Divas--check out that picture, I bet they hold the Guinness World Record for carpet munched in a quarter-- let alone qualified to coach my once proud alma mater. I may have to hire someone to assassinate him.

Speaking of hiring assassins, can you believe Marvin Harrison is still a free agent? I feel bad. I have to make this confession. I was the shooter on the Grassy Knoll outside Playmakers that evening. I sent in some goon to rough up Marvin and it backfired, turns out he has hands like a ninja. I stole Marvin's gun just in case I had to use it to frame him. The truth is, I was tired of throwing the ball to that overrated bum. I would have thrown to Reggie Wayne in triple coverage over a wide open Marvin on every play if it was my choice. But I couldn't do that because I knew if I threw one more interception Dungy would have swallowed a shotgun right there on the sideline. I made Marvin Harrison, screw him.

You want to know the one thing that really chaps my ass? This bullshit:
Naughright and her lawyer provided a different version of events. In a court filing, her lawyer wrote that she was examining Manning to see why Manning was having pain in one of his feet and was crouched behind him when "entirely unprovoked, Peyton Manning decided to pull down his shorts and sit on Dr. Naughright's head and face."

As Naughright described it in a deposition entered into the court record: "It was the gluteus maximus, the rectum, the testicles and the area in between the testicles. And all that was on my face when I pushed him up. ... To get leverage, I took my head out to push him up and off."

Haha, I totally taint bombed that bitch. I couldn't help it, she had been eye-ballin' my dong for far to long. And just a week before it happened Peerless Price told me she stuck her finger in his butt, I thought she was into it. I guess not. Oh well. How pissed do you think she is every time she sees me on TV and then the image of scrotum, taint, and rectum immediately flash into her memory. Taint bomb bitch.

(*Not really Peyton Manning gaybots)

Let The Reign of Terror Begin

I'm ba'ack! Mr. Ace has officially returned to the blogosphere, ladies...I can hear the roaring applause all the way from my parents basement. So G Money has asked me to "babysit" The Money Shot for a little while, while he goes along and ruins his life a little more. So I have packed plenty of Jesus Juice and plan on laying the Money Shot on its stomach and ripping it a new ass hole for the next couple weeks.

I'm pretty sure that G Money brought me on here because of my star power among the athletic elite(or because he realizes I am a superior blogger). So I'm not going to disappoint him. I reached out to some of the best athletes on the planet and I was not disappointed in their response. I didn't realize how many of them were familiar with The Money Shot. All of them had something to say, and all of them loathe G Money just as much as you or I do. I even found out that G Money has a restraining order against him in the greater D.C. area, but I will explain that later in the week.

I've got a guest post lined up from the gayest Tight End in the NFL. He says that he once met G Money and got eye fucked so hard he couldn't walk for a week. He is also racist against gingers so it should be interesting.

I've also got a guest post coming from one of the most popular Quarterback's in the, he is not the one fucking a supermodel. He is quite funny and loves to make fun of his retarded sodomite of a brother.

The real treat I have for you is an interview with one of the most feared Safeties in NFL history. I won't elaborate much more, but conducting this interview was hell.

So get your popcorn ready, folks. This is about to be two weeks of homoerotica, necrophilia, and good ol' Christian fun.

Friday, July 24, 2009


Well...this is it for me for the next two weeks. I close and move in to the new house today. Remember all of my bitching about the whole home-buying process? With our current awesome realtor and loan hook-up, we were able to close in LESS than FIVE WEEKS. Amazing, eh? If you have any plans of buying a house in central Ohio, I could not recommend our realtor more.

So instead of blogging this weekend, I will be throwing out my back dealing with heavy shit. Not cool. At least the cable guy is coming out tomorrow morning which is giving me a boner. Then, of course, I get married next Saturday. Awwww...I wish that I could marry each and every one of my readers. But you are all ugly. After that, I will be heading out to SoCal for my honeymoon and will be back in front of the computer again, ready to work, on August 10th.

In the meantime, much to everyone's dismay, Mr. Ace will be trying to keep us afloat. He will fail miserably. I expect you all to remind him of this daily when he's trying to explain to the complexity of John Beilein's 1-3-1 defense. A few quick notes before I ride off into the sunset:

*That LeBron video was pretty pointless, huh? Not really sure why Nike got all butt-hurt over it. Hell, Courtney Lee posterized him worse than that TWICE in the ECF! And I beg the media not to get all crazy about LeBron admitting that he smoked some weed as a 17 year old. That isn't a story. Let it go.

*Mark Buehrle threw a perfect game against the team that I told you before the season wasn't going to be that good again. Is it just me or does anyone else not like Buehrle? There's just something about him that pisses me off. Could be the wispy, gay lumberjack beard. Yeah, it's probably that.

*Big Ben held a press conference. You are pathetic if you watched it. What were you expecting anyway? "Yeah, she didn't want it but I was always told that no means yes and yes really means yes". Of course, he's going to deny it. Ten bucks says this thing goes away by the time I make my return to this site.

*Does Bill Simmons even work for ESPN anymore? The guy works less than Kato Kaehlin.

Eh, that's it for me, I guess. I need to conserve my energy for the move. I will try my best to pop in everyday (definitely will next week) to call Mr. Ace a fag and remind you all how much you miss me. Behave yourselves and I'll see you in two weeks when I'm officially...a married man. Fuck. Me.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Erin's Video Was An Inside Job!

By now, most of you have already masturbated ten times to the leaked Erin Andrews video (still available at, I believe). But now comes an even more fun part...figuring out who the weirdo was that staged this event. Well, the New York Daily News has a guess:

"The shocking nude peephole video of ESPN reporter Erin Andrews was most likely shot by a fellow ESPN employee, reports. Radar reports that the video was uploaded by a user named Goblazers1 (ed. note: Greg Oden?) who has been identified as a 49-year-old American male (it IS Greg Oden!). ESPN is infuriated, and has vowed to find the person who created the video."

I'll help. It's my civic duty to assist in helping the Worldwide Leader find out who the bastard was that showed us Erin in all of her curvacious glory. The suspects:

Jay Crawford - He went to Ohio U (CORRECTION - he went to BG which is even more sad)and has a history of sexual harrassment issues
Mike Tirico - Captain Blerd (that would be "black nerd) has a lovely legacy of stalking and sex-ting
Woody Paige - Who hasn't fondled the ass of a Cold Pizza hair stylist???
Chris Berman - The dirtiest man in the're with me, leather
Kirk Herbstreit - I would bet a lot of money that he and EA have boned in the past. I guarantee it. Who knows, maybe he tapes his conquests like Dennis Reynolds.
Dana Jacobsen - She enjoys drinking vodka straight from the bottle and looks like a dyke anyway. The fact that she graduated from Michigan doesn't help either.
Sean Salisbury - I mean, who doesn't take a picture of his dick with his cell phone and then show it to his co-workers???

My guess, you ask? Well, I'm waiting to hear back with more info but I think it was Bill Belichick. The guy has a history of sleeping with married women. He has a lot of credibility when it comes to illegal videos. And let's face it, he's a scumbag. As I said, I'm just waiting to hear back from America's favorite narc...Eric Mangini.

Trust me, Erin, I will get to the bottom of this. And then we can get married. I will make this promise to you: every single time that you are naked, it WILL be videotaped. That sounds like a lovely wedding vow, eh?

First Place

The best team in baseball currently resides atop the AL East. Oh sure, the Dodgers and Phillies are playing well, but they play in the National League. And we all know that that league is a joke and wins there don't count the same. It's kind of like that 3/5 Compromise that they used to have in Missour-ah (I think). Blacks could vote but only 60% were counted (or something like that). Either way, the NL is a wasteland in which only shitty baseball is played.

Yes, YOUR New York Yankees have leap-frogged that one team that they can't beat and now are running the show in the AL. Nevermind that they are 0-8 against the Sawx. That means nothing to me. There are still 143 games on the schedule not against Boston that you need to focus on.

The point is that the Yankees are now 20 games over .500 and have done this somewhat quietly. They really aren't getting as much coverage as they would usually get with a season like this. Maybe they are...I don't know but it doesn't feel like it. The Halladay shit and Manny is taking away the spotlight AND I WANT IT BACK NOW!!!

I guess basically what I'm saying here is your team fucking sucks and mine is better. Which, in turn, makes me better than you. Because if there is one thing that I have learned from Buckeye fans is that the performance of your team is directly related to how good of a fan you are. See you in October. Well, I guess most of you won't be paying attention then.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Say It Ain't So, Big Ben

Uh oh. "Accused rapist" is not the title that you want attached to one of your favorite players in sports. In case you don't know my history, I played against (and beat) Roethlisberger's Findlay Trojans in high school and then went to the same university that he did. While I'm not a Steelers fan, I still root for the kid to do well. Needless to say, I'm a Big Ben fan. I always have been and, until this morning, I thought that I always would be. Now, obviously, we need more details about this situation than what we have, but---well---let's talk about this for a moment.

Call me a sick fuck, but rape has always been joked about here. No, not the serious and unfunny man/woman or Dut/newborn baby kind of rape, but more along the lines of "T.O. getting raped by a clown" or "Vick dishing out prison blowjobs". That is funny. This situation? Not so much.

Anyway, the first thing that struck me was how detailed that account of the evening was by the victim. Andrea McNulty (no relation to fictional character, Jimmy McNulty) remembers pretty much everything about that night. His room was dirty, what he was wearing, what was said, the inflection of his voice. I can't remember what I had for dinner two nights ago but she can remember specifics from over a year ago. But I suppose that if you're carrying around emotional baggage like this, you tend to not forget about it. Whether you believe this story or think that she just made up an elaborate lie, it is entirely up to you. I'm not really sure what side that I fall on here as my fanboy-ness still impacts my ideals.

What I question about this ordeal is that McNulty has absolutely no desire to pursue criminal charges. She only wants this to be resolved in civil court. Now it is starting to feel more and more like a gold digger trying to get paid, doesn't it? I mean, if her version of the story were true and she could prove it (doubtful in rape cases anyway), shouldn't there be some shred of police involvement? I don't know. I'm not a lawyer but this part of the story does seem fishy. What else seems fishy? The fact that ESPN completely ignored this and never reported on it. What a network! But back to the case, McNulty's personal history sort of leads us to believe that she is less than stable and that this may be nothing more than a cash grab. Which is why famous people should only bang/invite to their room other famous people.

People are going to compare this to what happened to Kobe now. There are a few differences here. Kobe's victim filed charges and had no desire to be bought out. This feels like it could be swept under the rug. But what will be interesting here is to see the media fallout because believe me, Al Sharpton is going to be watching. Will reporters be as hard on Ben as they were on Kobe? Will the fans turn on him even if charges are dropped like they did to Kobe? Will sponsors drop him? It's going to be interesting to see how this plays out just because of the subtle differences in the cases. I mean, Ben has no shot of going to prison over this but what will Der Fuhrer Goodell think?

And that is the rub here. And it's already begun on message boards. Let's say that there is hotel footage that proves that this woman was nowhere near his room on the night in question and everything is dropped. He is still going to be called a rapist everywhere he goes. It's part of our culture. Even if you are proven innocent, you are still guilty of something. Hell, I'm guilty of it in my remarks about Kobe and Ray Lewis. It's who we are.

My take on this is simple. It fucking sucks, as a fan of his, to hear about shit like this whether it's true or not. I mean, Ben has banged this and is still banging this, and now I'm supposed to believe that he threw his career away for this? She's not even "Henry County hot". I've watched enough legal shows in my life to know how to handle this. She wants money. She doesn't want him in jail. Give the woman what she asks for in exchange for saying that the story was not true. Put a fucking confidentiality clause in there. You don't want this to drag on. End the fucker now and get on with your life.

What the hell is going on with Big Ben following Super Bowl wins? First it was the bike and now this? Dude needs to just stay at home...unless that requires watching The T.O. Show in which self-inflicted clown rape is the only feasible option. I'm interested to hear what our wise commenting sage and diehard Stillers fan, Grumpy, has to say about this.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Happy 3rd Blogiversary!

I'm watching Old School on TBS (I don't think that it was presented by Tyler Perry though) the other night and it's that scene at Blue's funeral. The highly underrated Perrey Reeves wishes Frank the Tank a happy birthday and he admits that he forgot about it. Well, I have to apologize to myself and this great site because I did the same.

Last Wednesday, July 15th, this blog turned three. I'm not quite sure if you consider it a birthday or an anniversary so I celebrated my own calling it a "blogiversary" and eating an entire leopard thong erotic cake. I suppose that I should get this out of the way...thanks to all of you who have been around since the beginning and those of you who have hopped on the bandwagon over the years. The comments keep this fun and have even helped make me a little extra money, so thanks again. From me to you. And this will be the last time that you hear this from my fingers.

I don't expect nor want any "thanks" or anything because it would just be a lie and insincere. After all, this is my last week of "blog work" for awhile until I turn the site over to Mr. Ace for two weeks (worst decision ever unless for some reason everyone telling him that he will ruin this site actually motivates him...I doubt it). But what could be amusing if you are up to it is perhaps a "roast" of sorts pertaining to this fine site or maybe this fine wordsmith. Hell, I saw a commercial the other day for a Joan Rivers roast on Comedy Central. Jesus, I may be closer than I think if this is who they are settling on these days.

I actually thought that Spieth should have done this at Berger's wedding this past weekend. As soon as the best man speech ended, he could have grabbed the mic and started blasting all of the guests with hilarious insults. Maybe he should do it at my wedding! Something along the lines of, "I see that that lazy-eyed gargoyle is here...I wouldn't fuck her with Damman's dick." Oops, bad example. Or maybe a, "Good to see Lange made it tonight but he looks a little different without Tyler Hansbrough's anus on his forehead." You know how this goes.

So as James Carville said to the aforementioned Frank the Tank, "have at it, hoss". For this is the one day that I am allowing my commenters to come at me with their full force and I will just lay back and take it all just like Li'l Strut. Most people would ask you to be nice to them on their birthday/anniversary. But I'm a different breed. I want you to be cut-throat assholes. I await your best and HAPPY BLOGIVERSARY TO ALL!!!

Monday, July 20, 2009

Tom Watson and I Are Alot Alike

This past weekend, I made the trek back to Naptown for two nights of debauchery. Friday night was all about Rally and Saturday, Berger got married. It was going to be a real test for my liver, colon, stomach, brain, etc. I'm starting to get older now so rebounds are tougher on me these days. But it was my goal to go strong alcoholically (I just made that up) this weekend. To show myself that I still have it in me. It was time to pound and keep pounding.

But it didn't work out that way. Friday was one of those nights that you think about when someone asks you about the time when you were the most drunk in your life. Because I would probably put it in my top 5. And I blame Mother Strut for that. That busty she-devil made Hurricanes that were no doubt the key to my late night stumbling and obscenely loud talking. It was glorious. I haven't stayed up drinking and dicking around with my boys until 4-5 AM since, well, my bachelor party. But nevertheless, it was a great night. Not something that usually happens in Nap.

Saturday was a different story however. I was awaken at noon by Naptown Wolverine farting in my face. That was only the beginning to how much this day sucked. I go home and immediately find the couch. About an hour later, the mouth sweats begin and I'm dead-sprinting to the bathroom to yak my guts out. My bitch sister is laughing maniacally outside the door. She then questions why a 28 year old is still throwing up in his parent's bathroom. And it is a fair question. I slept until 3 before needing to head to the wedding.

I tried. I really did. I drank everything that they had to offer. It just wasn't happening. My stomach was gurgling every time I took a drink. I was sweating out last night's whiskey like it was nobody's business. I didn't even want to talk to anyone. Basically, I fucking choked. The story was set for one final kickass weekend before I get married and I blew it. It would have been the final chapter of my life as a bachelor and I couldn't carry through. Just like Tom Watson (see what I did there?).

I was rooting for the old fuck. I actually fist-pumped when he birdied the 17th. He had it. I was already mentally preparing a post about how this was the biggest upset in the history of sports. But then on the 18th green, old man river 3 putts to give the title to that really tall guy that sort of looks like a penis who actually was gay enough to kiss his golf ball. Instead of taking the bull by the horns and locking up his 6th Claret Jug, he ended up puking out shredded chicken into his parent's toilet and not being able to turn it on in the playoff.

I'm really kind of struggling with how to classify this loss. I mean, Watson wasn't even expected to make the cut let alone be in the final group on Saturday and Sunday. The dude is 59 and playing against guys half his age with much more skill and power.

BUT, he had the tournament won. All he had to do was not three putt 18 and he wins a freaking ESPY (who wouldn't want one of those!!!). Instead, he blows it and is just like me...a loser who spends over two hours trying to find the Erin Andrews hotel peephole video on a Sunday night (still unsuccessful---UPDATE! Thanks to commenter Drew, I've seen the six seconds of creepy glory. I won't post the link due to not wanting to get sued, but she's a waxer!). So is it fair to say that a 59 year old Tom Watson choked? Unfortunately, I think you have to say that. It sucks but it is true. He let the pressure get to him. I'm sure that jessescott will fire back by saying that Tiger choked. Well, no, he didn't. He played like shit. There is a difference.

Now Tom and I have nothing to show for our weekends other than crippling depression, diarrhea, and still a slight taste of vomit in our mouths. That's the price you pay for pissing away what you wanted so much. Why, you're welcome, readers. That was a well-crafted analogy.

Broom Goes The Dynamite

HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Or if you are a male gay, LOL!!! The unofficial second half of the MLB season started this weekend and, as they should, the Yankees swept the Tigers.

How did this happen exactly? I mean, I keep being told that the Tigers aren't frauds. Well, my MVP selection of Baseball Jesus was taking those "all-stars" deep all weekend. Mark Teixeira followed suit. The starting pitching was tremendous. And when you have potentially the best PITCHER of the past twenty years, any close game is over. Mo closed each game with ease. But it's easy to do that when you face a shitty team. And that is what the Tigers are...bad.

No one else in the league has had a problem hitting Joba this year. Except for the Tigers...twice. Whitetrashlander was just not up to the challenge of beating CC. Commenter Drew, making his first Yankee Stadium appearance, hopefully got his ass kicked by better fans of a better team. Welcome to New York, fuck-up.

That's 5 out of 6 this year from those losers. I wish we played them everyday. Your welcome, White Sox/Twins fans.

Friday, July 17, 2009

The Legend Of Brian Peppers

Ugh. Trust me, you are going to hate me for this. You are going to be wishing that I did a fantasy football column today. Today's post is so disgusting that I'm not even using a picture. My stomach isn't strong enough. Allow me to explain:

So last Friday I stop by Naptown Wolverine's house in...well...Naptown. I show him the Department of Corrections website which has info about people that we know/Maurice Clarett's updated prison photo. Good times, right? Then, NW starts checking out the sex offenders in Naptown. Again, good times. But then the mood changes and changes quickly. For NW mentioned the name:

Brian Peppers.

He is somewhat of an internet sensation but, until last Friday, I had never heard of him before. Go ahead. Click on the link. I dare you. I'll wait.

Grotesque, huh? That dickhead from Mask has nothing on Brian Peppers.

He's just your run of the mill sex offender who currently resides about 45 miles from Naptown. Here is his backstory with MORE pictures!!! He also happens to be so fucking ugly that he makes Garbage Pail Kids look normal. Seriously, I've had fucking nightmares ever since because of this guy.

Now I know what you're thinking, "Why couldn't you have just not posted today instead? For God's sake, I just threw up on myself." It's a fair question and to that I say, "get fucked". I put up with a lot of "Peppers-esque" comments (retarded) on a daily basis, so you can deal with this hilarity now.

That's it for today. I have the day off and am spending it in line for a marriage license, driving back to Naptown, playing golf potentially at Nap Muni, and then getting bombed at Rally tonight. Enjoy the weekend. And don't forget to check under your bed for Peppers.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Random Thought Thursday

Since we're still void of any on-field action in any sporting event, are we cool with some random thoughts today? Yeah? Good, because ESPN is wasting bottom line space with news about Damaso Marte's upcoming return and Brett Favre throwing footballs. I even saw a segment on Sportscenter where Mike "The Fag" Greenberg is telling some poor diner waitress about how much he wants to go to Wimbledon. Jeezus, we need something to happen. How about releasing another steroids name? I'll even settle for Ron Kittle at this point.

Whatever happened to managers in pro-wrestling? Back in the 80's and early 90's, you used to have some of the greatest characters ever do nothing but accompany their guys ringside. Now, at best, you get some dumb ex-stripper with no personality. I want guys like "The Mouth of the South" Jimmy Hart, Paul Bearer, Bobby Heenan, THE SLICKSTER (pictured), and Mr. Fuji back. Enough with these girls that clearly passed the Vince McMahon BJ hiring process.
I work on the 5th floor of my building. When I leave work, clearly I press one otherwise it would not move. It never fails that on the way down, we have to stop and pick more people up. Yet the assbaskets that get on ALWAYS hit the first floor button again. THE LIGHT IS FUCKING ON. You do not have some magic touch that will make the elevator get there faster. I swear to Christ, one of these days I'm going to kill everyone in my office. I will start with "Donkey Fucker".
My favorite tournament starts up today and that would be The Open Championship. Or as us uncivilized Americans would call it, The British Open. If you are looking to pick an upset, don't bother. The last three times that this tourney was held at Turnberry, the #1 player in the world won. Tiger will make it four times as long as he keeps his fucking driver in the bag. You know, it's sad that seemingly everyone in Phil-do's family is getting cancer when all that anyone really wants is for his family to get healthy and for him to get cancer. Ass cancer.
I'm still trying to figure out how Joe Maddon was able to take 4 position players off of his third place team and put them in the all-star game. I realize that everyone wants to see the great Jason Bartlett and Ben Zobrist play, but come on. The Rays didn't deserve five all-stars this year. And Maddon really needs to stop looking like someone that Billie Jean King would want to date.

I will never deny my love for Big Brother. It has to be the worst show that I've ever watched yet I love every minute of it. The new season started up on Sunday and two things immediately come to mind. Laura (above) has the worst set of giganticly fake moon balloons ever. Not to sound like a gay guy but she should have used some of that money on braces. Her line last night of, "it's not my fault that I have big boobs" was classic reality TV. Actually, whore, yes it is your fault. And then there is Russell...the MMA FIGHTER who is quite possibly the most objectionable human being in America. He calls himself "The Love Muscle" and tried to fight someone in less than a week of being on the show. Would you ever associate with someone like that? Of course not. I hope that someone snuck a gun in the house and they shoot him. Great show though.
Finally, it looks like FX has green-lit a new show about...wait for it...a fantasy football league? Hells yes! It's going to be done by some of the people responsible for Curb Your Enthusiasm so you know it's going to be awesome. I hope that it's similar to my league in which two constants happen at every draft: Commenter Drew can't stop shaking until he finishes a pitcher and The Hottest Bartender In Columbus gets pissed off when people draft Earnest Graham ahead of him. I'm totally going to watch this.

Back tomorrow...potentially talking about Peppers. Let me sleep on that though...if I can.

My Co-Worker Is Still Retarded

It's been awhile, but do you remember my complete fucking mental defective co-worker that I used to share stories about? I've sort of left her alone over the past months because her love for Michael Jackson and complaints about her swollen hands has made me just ignore her. But that changed yesterday when this "HUGE Browns fan" used her vast football knowledge for this conversation with me.

Idiot: Hey, G$.
G$: Yeah?
Idiot: You know who Tony Roma, the quarterback, is, right?
G$: (I know where this is going right away and can't wait to get there) Yeah.
Idiot: He just broke up with Jessica Simpson the day before her birthday, didn't he?
G$: That's what they say.
Idiot: he the same guy that owns all of those rib restaurants?
G$: (feeling mighty good about himself at the moment and figured that I better keep this going otherwise she will never learn) I believe so.
Idiot: That place is good. My husband and I eat there a few times per year.
G$: Oh yeah?
Idiot: I'll have to tell him tonight that the Tony Roma quarterback and restaurant are the same person.
G$: Sounds good!

Now, her husband has to be even dumber since he married this glass sorter in the first place, but I hope that Debbie Down's Syndrome tries to spread this lie on to her friends and family. She deserves it. After all, she is the same bitch that actually announced to the entire office that she had to take a shit this winter. I'm still gagging from that sentence.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

I'm Just Sayin'...

I really don't feel like talking about the All-Star Game. Hell, I'm typing this up 45 minutes after my guide said that the game was going to start. Did you know that the days before and after the MLB All-Star Game are the only days of the year in which no professional sports that matter are played? It's true. Look it up. Monday-a game that means virtually nothing-Wednesday...and we've got no sports action at all to discuss. So sometimes you need to force the issue when it comes to blogging.

And this is why I have resulted to "Bayless-ing" today. What does "Bayless-ing" mean, you ask? Well, Skip Bayless is an ascot wearing faggot who says whatever the hell his producers tell him to. Take his stance on LeBron for example. He's the only asshole in the world that thinks Our King is a joke yet he will stand by his statement until he dies from a too-rough night of truck stop butt-love. But his schtick is to argue the points that no one else dare back. This is what I'm doing today. You will not like this and no one will agree with me on this. Let's go:

Alex Rodriguez was outed earlier this year for using steroids 6 years ago. A-Rod missed the first month of the season due to hip surgery. A-Rod is not an all-star. Statistically, A-Rod isn't having an A-Rod season (yet). But with all that said, I'm going to come out and say it:

Alex Rodriguez is the MVP of the American League.

Now, let me give you some time to pick up the pieces of your skull that exploded off of your body and then I will lay out my case for you. But first, remember that this award was given to a loser named Dustin Pedroia last year so the reward already has a taint (rimshot!) on it. It has no almost no credibility left anyway.

On Friday May 8th, the Yankees were floundering with a porous 13-15 record. That night, A-Rod came off of the DL and the first pitch that he saw from Jeremy Guthrie, he deposited into the leftfield bleachers for a 3 run dong. Since then, since Baseball Jesus returned to the Yankees, they are 38-22. From 2-under without him to 16-over with him. I would say that that is sort of valuable. The Yanks are playing .633 ball with him. Can you name me one other player with that kind of differential? Manny? Doubtful. The Dodgers didn't miss a beat without him. Joe Mauer is hitting close to .400 but who cares because his team fucking sucks.

Now how can I sit here and tell you all that a guy hitting .256 with 17 HR's and 50 RBI should be the MVP? Easily. His OPS is still a robust .959 and from what I'm told, that is really good. But it's more than just numbers. It's the impact he has had. Do you think that Mark Teixeira is an all-star without A-Rod? Maybe, but it didn't look like that in April. And don't give me that trash that A-Rod's numbers are even worse than they look because he plays at the new Yankee Stadium. Please, do some research (like me!). He's only hitting .213 at home (which is confusing). Try as you might, the fact remains that Alex Rodriguez is THEE reason why the Yankees have the 3rd best record in baseball today. He has made everyone better offensively while playing great defense over at third which studs named Cody Ransom and Angel Berroa could not provide.

I suppose it also has to do with how you define "valuable" in these arguments. Are you one of those morons that believes the award should go to the best player on the best team? Because that is retarded. The guy with simply the best stats? Please, you're embarrassing yourself. These kind of awards should ALWAYS go to the guy that can not be replaced and makes his team better. This is why LeBron should have 3 MVP awards right now and why Peyton Manning should be the MVP every year. The Colts are the Lions with Jim Sorgi running the show and Tony Dungy's kid kills himself for completely different reasons (too much Sorgi).

So suck on that haters because I am dead serious about this Bayless-ism. Baseball Jesus is the MVP (so far). Fucking deal with it...and pray that something happens today.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Exit Light, Enter Night

With the All Star Game happening tonight, how about a random baseball post today? I would talk about the Home Run Derby, but a.) it's fucking lame 2.) it hasn't changed since the first year that they did it c.) the celebrity softball game is MUCH better and 4.) Chris Berman's bloated liver just said "Nelson 'Sail Around The World' Cruz". Does that make any fucking sense at all. How about Chris "I'm rarely ever so"Berman. Get it. Because he has cirrhosis of the body and it's hilarious.

OK, onto today's topic (which I have waited probably over a year now so I feel that it's fair game to steal it from commenter Tony B.). One of the coolest things that I've ever seen at a baseball game was when I saw Mariano Rivera exit the bullpen in Yankee Stadium for the 9th inning and they crank the shit out of Enter Sandman. The ominous opening is perfect for a stud closer to take the mound to. Regardless of the fact that Mo likely doesn't know any other song by Metallica, it is still bad-fucking-ass. It is just one small event that I feel fortunate to have seen. I think it would also be sick to see Trevor Hoffman come in for a save with Hell's Bells chiming. Although Metallica is far superior to AC (lightning blot) DC, both songs work for a closer.

I'm not really sure if other closers have their "theme songs" for when they enter the game. Some that come to mind that maybe should be are:
Kerry Wood - "Gasoline" by Audioslave because he's a god damn gas can
Carlos Marmol - "Walk This Way" by Aerosmith/Run DMC because he does not discriminate on walks
Jonathan Papelbon - "Bye, Bye, Bye" by *NSYNC because he knows how Lance Bass tastes

You see, it is that easy. But now to the crux of my post. Time to daydream that I am a bad motherfucker of a closer. I am like Kenny Powers. I throw the ball harder than fuck. When my team is up in the ninth, the other team knows that it is over. And the fans know it, too. But what would be my signature song. When I dead-sprint as fast as I can from the bullpen to the mound, what does the public address booth play for me? What is my "Wild Thing"? Oh, I should add that the "dead-sprint" is awesome although I would probably need to take 3 or 4 breaks before even getting to the infield dirt. So what is my jam? I'm glad you asked. There is some criteria though:

*it has to have some sort of sick guitar intro
*it has to have "audience sing-along" capabilities (which is why Enter Sandman is better than Hells Bells)
*99% of the time, it must be some sort of heavy metal with screaming encouraged; the "hairier" the metal, the better

It's that simple. My 5:
Grim Reaper - See You In Hell
This could possibly the worst song in the history of hair metal but the title alone screams "don't fuck with this guy". And that is what you want.

Motley Crue - Shout At The Devil
Satanic lyrics. Vince Neil's voice in it's prime. A chorus inviting the crowd to participate. It's a thing of beauty.

Ludacris - Area Codes
This would be hilarious. I'm running in from the 'pen and Ludacris is telling the world about all the ho's I have in different area codes. And I do. Check my stats.

Rage Against The Machine - Bulls On Parade
Lofty fucking intro. Plenty of screaming. Rally 'round their family, pocket full of shells. I'm surprised that no one has used this one yet. It feels like it was written so that it would be used for a closer.

Danzig - Mother
I am completely fucking obsessed with this song. I've started packing shit for the move recently and I spent 45 minutes the other night trying to find my Danzig CD. It was time well spent. The opening jam is extremely dark and scary and then the lyrics are beautiful. If you want to find Hell with me, I can show you what it's like. Fucking Danzig! You don't see it anymore but if you did see someone jamming to Danzig, you would walk away from that person because you know in your mind that that person is a badass.

Now we all know that Drew would skip in from the bullpen at Comerica Park to "I Want It That Way", but I am curious to see what some of you metalheads and asswipes would have playing to get yourself and the fans jacked off/up. Enjoy another American League win tonight. Don't fool yourselves, NL fans, you are inferior in every way. MOTHERRRRRRRRRRR!!!

Monday, July 13, 2009

Someone Explain UFC To Me

Other than the Giants 8th starter dropping a no-no on the shitty Padres on Friday night, nothing really happened this weekend. Well, other than UFC dropping their 100th pay per view (eventhough they have put on well over that number, it doesn't really matter since most of their supporters can't count past ten anyway). So I figured that I would waste a few words trying to figure out the allure and appeal of Mixed Martial Arts.

Now, I should state that I am not a complete rube when it comes to this sport. I used to rent the videos of Dan "The Beast" Severn, Royce Gracie, and Ken Shamrock doing their thing back in the late 90's. But I stopped watching once it turned into a bunch of stupid ass submission holds instead of the more crowd pleasing broken jaws and shit like that. And I have not watched since. Because I am a sophisticated sports fan that does not need to see some juiced up wifebeater pummel some other juiced up wifebeater.

At some point, Dana White took the promotion over and brought it back to popularity again. By all accounts, he is sort of a poor man's Vince McMahon (which is a good thing) when it comes to promoting. And now ultimate fighting is as popular as ever and has surpassed boxing and the always outstanding pro wrestling in general (white trash) interest. But why? I don't understand this and need some help here. Boxing has one of the richest traditions in sports history. Granted, there has not been a good heavyweight in a decade, but still. And while the WWE is pre-determined, the storylines and characters make up for the lack of realness. Maybe if someone could tell me why this is so damned entertaining without saying something as low-brow as "they just try to kick each other's asses" or "com'eer-a-minute", I would listen.

My real beef with the UFC has nothing to do with the product in the octagon at all. It's with their roving band of meathead fans. There is no worse person in the world than the muscle-bound faggot meathead. They are even worse than reality TV show contestants, Canadians, and Michael Jackson fans. And unfortunately for the UFC, their fanbase is 95% comprised of these assholes. There are a few exceptions here and there, I'm sure, but most of them are on steroids and go to bars looking to fight someone who is smaller than they are. Oh, and they can't read. This is why I'm writing this post...because almost all of the defenders of MMA can barely make out shapes. And I would bet that if you took a survey of all convicted domestic violence abusers, 100% of them enjoy a UFC event. Is this a convenient stereotype? You bet. But tell me I'm wrong. Not to sound all Colin Cowherd on you here, but the CEO of a Fortune 500 company is spending his money on Derek Jeter and Kobe Bryant, not Frank Mir and Stevey Punchwoman. Critics of the NBA say that they cater to the street and people of that ilk. Well, MMA caters to dickbags who hang out in weight rooms and Abercrombie and Fitch (that place is still for fags, right?).

Now let's take a quick look at the current UFC champion of some sort, Brock Lesnar. This guy left the WWE after injuring more than his share of wrestlers due to his shitty skills to try and make the Minnesota Vikings as a DE. He couldn't even make a team coached by Mike Tice. MIKE TICE! The same Mike Tice who always has a pencil in his ear. The same Mike Tice who had no problems with his players holding a sex cruise. The same Mike Tice who got caught scalping his Super Bowl tickets! Mike Tice was so bad that the Vikings brass felt that Brad Childress was an UPGRADE! Yet the best fighter in the world couldn't play for him. He wasn't good enough of an athlete. And let's not ignore the fact that Lesnar has really weird eyebrows and a tattoo of a dick on his chest. Who walks into a tattoo shop and says "I'd like a penis on my sternum, please".

It's on you today, fighting fans, to explain to me rationally why I should respect your product. Because I don't. And don't try to make me a fan because that ain't happ'nin'. But I'm all ears here if you want to sell me on some positives in which I see none. Personally, it's an event by douchebags for douchebags which will hopefully serve as the site of the next terrorist attack. And I know a thing or two about douchebags. After all, I'm watching Rookie of the Year right now.

Gross...Just Gross

Let's take a break from the sports talk for a few minutes to discuss one of the more important issues facing America today. No, we're not going to talk about the economy or unemployment or the war on terror or any other pointless shit. Today, we discuss Taco Bell's new Bacon Cheesy Potato Burrito.

Now, I don't normally eat Taco Bell unless I'm shit-faced. Call me crazy, but I don't like shitting out popcorn shrimp for three straight days. Only the inclusion of alcohol allows me to make these poor decisions. But the Bell's newest creation had me intrigued.

Bacon? Awesome.
Taco Bell Grade F Beef? Probably spider meat, but still OK.
Nacho cheese sauce? Makes everything better.
Hash Brown-type potatoes? Outstanding.
TOPPED with even more bacon and wrapped in a tortilla? Can I have sex with this thing already or what?

So I spend 80% of my lunch hour on Friday in the drive-thru line for one of these beauties. The first thing that I notice is that this burrito weighs as much as a cinder block. That's a good start. But then I make the horrible mistake of taking a bite of Taco Bell food while completely sober. This thing is fucking terrible. I don't know what quite happened but this thing is one of the all-time biggest misses in world history. It's like the complete opposite of the mashed potato bowl from KFC where they take all sorts of awesome ingredients, combine them, and form an amazing force of taste (the gravy is the glue).

It takes a lot of effort to make bacon inedible yet Taco Bell has found a way to do it with the greatest of ease. I don't know how this is possible, but mission accomplished, I guess. Serves me right for actually trying to consume Taco Bell with a blood-alcohol level under .15. Idiot. Now if you don't mind, I need to make my 47th trip to the bathroom since Friday afternoon. I'm this close to ridding my body of all of those spider guts.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Who Do You Take At 2?

It's Friday. It's the summer. It's FANTASY FOOTBALL FRIDAY!!! Like it or not, your drafts are creeping up on you and will be here in no time. Now don't panic, your team is going to suck if you start doing your homework now or if you wait until an hour before the draft starts. But your boyfriend, G$, has no problem dropping pointers to those that want to learn. And if you don't want to learn, you are probably retarded or from the deep south.

Last year about this time, I discussed how much I hated picking between 4 and 6. You don't get value there. Everyone available at that slot has HUGE red flags. You end up wasting that pick on Frank fucking Gore or some shit. Well, this issue has moved up the board this a big fucking way. Allow me to explain:

Can we all agree that Adrian Peterson will go first overall in every draft this year? If he doesn't, you need new friends. Let's say that I get the normally sweet break of having the #2 pick. I've done my research. I've looked at strength of schedules. I've eliminated anyone who has ever played for the Browns, Cowboys, or Bengals. I'm on the clock and the commish wants my pick.

What the fuck do I do now? There is NO clear cut #2 pick this year. After All Day, there isn't a guy who is guaranteed to be a top 5er. Having a pick in the first half of your draft this year will fucking blow. The position of power will be at the back end of the first round. Trust me. Let's take a look at who could conceivably go second next month:

DeAngelo Williams - Do you really trust this guy enough to rest the hopes of your team on him? His QB is awful and they didn't draft Jonathan Stewart to sit him. If he scores ten td's this year, I will be impressed.
Michael Turner - Were the Falcons a fluke or are they really that good? You could definitely see this team not catching any breaks and ending up 5-11. Was Turner also a fluke?
Brandon Jacobs - Sure, he's a beast but he ALWAYS gets hurt.
Matt Forte - Cutler will make him even better but it's still a stretch to go this high on a second year RB.
Steven Jackson - This guy sucks.
Brian Westbrook - He is turning 30 and the Eagles just drafted a running back to take some carries away.
Jamal Lewis - Just checking to see if you are still with me.
Drew Brees - Yeah, he's probably the safest pick here but you don't really want to take a QB second, do you?

See? It's a total crapshoot at #2. For once, you want no part of picking high in the first round. You want the sandwich picks at the end where you can wind up with MoJo Drew and Chris Johnson tearing up the fucking world for you. There. There is your weekly fantasy football advice...picking second really fucking sucks. Who does #2 work for? See you all on Monday.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

Poker In The Rear

With the World Series of Poker well underway in Vegas, I figured today would be as good a time as any to discuss it. Actually, we aren't going to talk about the WSOP at all but we will talk about poker. Now, I fancy myself to be a pretty damn sexy card player eventhough I have been on a losing streak recently which is quite dumbfounding when you consider the people that I play with. I back up this claim of greatness with my back-to-back Thanksgiving Night tournament victories along with my Christmas Night Classic win from a few years back over at Naptown Wolverine's house. What can I say...I'm a fucking legend. They call me Northwest Ohio Dolly.

With that being said and with Vegas crawling with degenerate gamblers this month, I've got gambling on my mind. In fact, I have decided to construct for you people today my "dream" poker table. I've got 8 seats for players plus a chair for the dealer and it's up to ME who gets the privilege of playing cards with the greatest.

Dealer (and host) - Naptown Wolverine
I don't want you gambling at all because you are terrible, but since we will be playing at your place, you can shuffle up and deal. You may even get a cut at the end of the night.

Me - Me
That one pretty much speaks for itself. I think that I would be wearing a velvet robe though.

Comedian - Dave Attell
Insomniac is one of the greatest shows ever and Attell looks like a terrorist. You need someone at your table to drink heavily, smoke heavily, and tell disgustingly awesome abortion jokes. Attell brings it all and then some.

Chef - Gordon Ramsey
Ramsey fucking rules and you need someone willing to make a good spread for the group. I narrowed this selection down to Gordon and Bobby Flay but went with the Brit just because of the potential swear-filled rant he would throw if he suffered a bad beat. And the food would be outstanding.

Fictional Character - Lando Calrissian
I am a Star Wars geek. I watched almost every minute of Spike's "Force of July" weekend. There is no greater fictional badass in the galaxy than Lando. I mean, I could have picked Billy Dee Williams to show up, but I want 1983 Billy Dee, not old 2009 Billy Dee. I want the motherfucker who brought down the second Death Star. I would probably have to stock the fridge with Colt 45 but it would be totally worth it.

Athlete - Michael Jordan
Not really a stretch pick with MJ but how cool would it be to play cards with the best basketball player to ever play the game? And let's not forget that Jordan is a legendary pussy hound AND terrible gambler! You want a guy or two sitting next to you that just throw money away. That pushed Jordan over the top to get the invite.

Actor - Tracy Morgan
Everything that this guy says is fucking hilarious. I've ready that WGN and Comedy Central are going to put 30 Rock in syndication soon...awesome. I'm sure that he sucks at all card games anyway but he would give the table some much needed street cred if say Omar from The Wire shows up to rob the game. Werewolf Bar Mitzvah!

Musician - Max Weinberg
He's a member of the E Street Band AND The Tonight Show Band? You know that he's got some stories. I could have picked Cobain here but how depressing would that be? Some guy shooting heroin when it's his turn to bet...would ruin all flow. Max rules and he gets a chair for himself.

Cartoon Character - Randy Marsh
I debated long and hard about which cartoon character was going to take the final seat at this table and ended my search in South Park, CO. It was down to Homer, Peter Griffin, and Randy. Homer would likely pull some shit and declare that he is holding a "Royal Sampler" and that he wins. Peter's poker face is so perfect that he makes his face disappear. Marsh is an idiot and arguably the dumbest character in the history of cartoons. Needless to say, he is fantastic. I thought this was America!

Waitress - Heather Graham reprising her role as Rollergirl
You've got to have some hot ass serving drinks and whatnot during your game. After all, this is a DREAM scenario. Dude...fucking ROLLERGIRL! I don't care what you say, Heather Graham is still fucking hot. Just saw her tit in The Hangover...still fantastic. But she must wear those roller skates to make Dirk Diggler proud. And she would automatically qualify as the hottest broad to ever set foot in NW's house. Well, other than his mother.

Let's have some fun with this today. Give me your dream table (you don't have to include me as I know that I will be invited anyway).