Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Cheap Beer Day!

Let me explain why we are going with this topic today:
*The sporting world has given us nothing to talk about.
*It took me almost 48 hours to shake off Saturday night's accompanying hangover.
*I got my picture taken with the Miller High Life Guy.

When you combine all three of these, why not talk about our favorite cheap beers? Look, we've all been there before. It usually took place in our late teens or early twenties, but back in those days, you had no money and needed to get fucked up every weekend. Fortunately, there are numerous breweries that targeted this market section. I mean, do you really think that Natural Light would still be around if it wasn't for broke college kids and my future father-in-law? Of course not! Because normal people do not like the taste of hops, barley, and goat shit.

I'm not really sure why, but the Kroger in Oxford had one of the sickest beer departments I've seen outside of Canada. They had EVERYTHING. And that included a wide variety of cases for under $15 and 6 packs that could be purchased for the price of a pack of Juicy Fruit (which just so happens to be Drew's nickname down in the Short North). Anyway, I wouldn't be caught dead drinking a Natty Light or a Beast or a Coors. But I did have my favorites and my 5 favorites are below.

5. Mickey's - Ah yes, the worst of the worst when it came to malt liquor. One of my boys used to drink this shit all the fucking time in the freshmen dorm and for awhile I could stomach it myself. I even bought a Mickey's bar sign on eBay! Do I still have that? Would She$ have a problem if I nailed it to the wall in our living room. I truly believe that Mickey's could be the worst drink ever. I believe that their slogan was something like, "for the man who can't afford King Cobra, drink Mickey's".

4. Schaefer - I'm not willing to do any research on this, but I think that this is brewed in Milwaukee and it was all sorts of awesome. Every time that I crushed a 12er of this shit, I'm quite positive that my self esteem was at it's peak. People would ask, "What's gotten into G$"? And someone would reply, "He looks like he's hopped up on Schaefer again". Actually, this beer might not even be real...it could have just been a mirage. But I will tell you this: Heaven serves Schaefer. I guarantee it.

3. Schlitz - I was pounding this stuff way before Rod Farva made it cool. I can't say this enough: Schlitz. Is. Awesome. Do you remember the 2001 World Series? The first two games that Arizona won, I drank Bud Light. The middle 3 games that the Yankees won? A 12 pack of Schlitz each game poured into a Schlitz goblet. I go to OU for Halloween on game 6 and get 3 40's of Budweiser for game 7. That lost series was my fault because I disrespected the greatness of Schlitz. It gets a bad rap in my opinion. Trust me on this, take Schlitz to the next gathering that you go to. You will be as popular with everyone as the Dos Equis guy.

2. Miller High Life - My Senior "season" of college, this was all that Kuehn and I drank. It helped that our favorite bar sold bottles of the stuff for $1.25 (and 75 cents on Thursday nights!). For as much as I respect living the high life, I just couldn't drink it today. I've babied my colon for too long. It is no longer made of iron from case after case of the champagne of beers. Even if I could finish a bottle these days, I would be on the toilet for at least 6 hours a day for the next 3 weeks. But I will never forget living the high life...and trying to picture the chick on the bottle nude.

1. Stroh's - I HATE Kid Rock but he really nailed it with his lyric, "30 pack of Stroh's, 30 pack of ho's". I love Stroh's. The only "bar" that I've ever seen it sold at though was River City Bowl-A-Way. They used to carry a 12 pack of it there JUST FOR US. The cool thing about Stroh's is that they make a point of advertising that it is "fire-brewed". I have no idea what that means but that is all sorts of awesome. Is it made out of lava? It would not surprise because only the coolest of the cool are allowed to drink this greatness anyway. Coors likes to tell you that their beer is the coldest around, well Stroh's says fuck that. We brew ours with fucking fire!

There you go. There is my list for drinking on the cheap. Man, I really, REALLY want a Stroh's right now. It's too bad that this guy probably drank it all. Let's discuss cheap alcohol in the comments, shall we? Maybe we can turn back into a sports blog again tomorrow.

Monday, June 29, 2009

"I Need My Pills!"

So my bachelor party has come and gone and, as expected, it was a great time. Even set against the depressing backdrop of Cleveland, Ohio, it did not disappoint. Well done, Damman, on coming through and giving all of us a good time (with his mouth). It was even cool finally meeting crotchety and angry commenter, Seal, and seeing all of the old JBeanie commenters (except for Beanie himself who turned out to be a coward). How about I share a few tales from the weekend for you, huh? I mean, it's what you want. After all, I truly do believe that the actions of one of my boys caused the death of Billy Mays but you will have to wait for that analogy.

We roll into northeast Ohio early on Saturday and check in to our EXTREMELY sketchy hotel. We all cab it down to Panini's and start the drinking at around 3. A couple of notes about Panini's: they actually have one of those sex toy dispensers in the bathroom! I haven't seen one of those things in years. At this point, I was coherent enough to do what I wanted to do...trying to find someone wearing the most bizarre jersey possible. I actually saw Reds fans wearing Adam Dunn shirts and an Indians fan wearing a CC t-shirt jersey. They cost $20 bucks...go out and buy a new one, ya cheap bastards. Why would you buy any Adam Dunn merchandise anyway? Much props to the guy wearing a STEVE KARSAY jersey. That takes some balls. But the one that was the "best" was the old man wearing a #1 Reds jersey with "DAD" on the back. I'm sure that Izzy Mandelbaum would argue that this guy is not the #1 Dad but I'm not sure how official those rankings are. Well done, #1 DAD, you are an asshole.

We moved onto the Thirsty Parrot for some more debauchery which is where we ran into the aforementioned Beanie crew. Thankfully, both posse's got along well and we avoided a West Side Story-esque, finger-snapping rumble. This is where things got good. Out of nowhere, Windell Middlebrooks shows up. Who is that, you ask? He is none other than the MILLER HIGH LIFE GUY!!! He was wearing his High Life shit and everything. Nice guy, and he took pictures with everyone. He even wished me good luck on my wedding. He's totally invited now! It was at this bar where some asstard tried to get in Reba's face and I played peacemaker until he got pissed off at me. It went like this:

G$: Dude, relax. He bumped into you on accident and apologized.
Asstard: He was hitting on my buddy's wife (which he did not do anyway)!
G$: Well...is she hot?

He did not take this too well. But JB told a cop that he was picking fights so they threw him out. This is probably about the time that I should explain how awful my explosive, biohazard gas was. If there is a farting hall of fame, I would have turned in the tape from Saturday night as reason why I should be included. It was horrendous. I was literally clearing out sections of people and all the while laughing maniacally. It was definitely the best performance around Progressive Field that night.

We did not win any of the FREE MONEY NIGHT money. We all got $1 vouchers which were all given to me and I parlayed that into a Leinenkugel's in the bleachers. We walked into the game at the same time as John Adams AKA the dickbag that always bangs on the drum in the outfield. Damman and Jeff H got their pictures taken with him. I think that Damman had a boner. The game itself was as awful as a Tomo Ohka/Homer Bailey game could be. Thankfully, we had no kids sitting near us so we had free reign to swear up a storm and entertain all that sat near us. I know that I very loudly announced that Grady Sizemore is struggling this year because it's hard to swing with a dick in his mouth and that he has purple lips just like A-Rod. That went over well. We left early due to the awfulness of both teams, but it was fun acting like the old guys from The Muppets that just rip on everything that they see. That was us on Saturday.

Now I'm wearing my Yankees hat just to let everyone know how much better I am than them. On the way out, a few guys who were playfully busting my balls every time that I walked by started shooting off at the mouth again. It was the typical shit which was easily swatted away with a "the Indians are fucking terrible". But one guy threw out the worst smack of all time by yelling out "Go Xavier Nady"! Really? That's where you're going to go. Xavier Nady smack? I hope he got hit by a bus.

We drink a few more beers and it's time to head to the gentlemen's club. Somehow we all got in for free and it was a solid time. I was done with beer and switched to 7/7's at that point. It looks like you're drinking scotch. I felt like "the world's most interesting man". No, I did not go up on stage with the whores or anything. It was just a normal night of paying chicks to take their clothes off. The important part of this story is from when we left.

They are kicking everyone out and at this point, JB decides that he wants to leave his mark on the night. So he starts faking an epileptic seizure in the strip club. Now normally (I think), you have spasms when you seizure. JB's seizures required him to walk into a bunch of rooms, knock over chairs and tables, throw stacks of paper in the air, and scream "I NEED MY PILLS!!!". It took 6-7 employees to escort him out but it was funny because since they thought that he was having a seizure, they didn't kick the shit out of him. And of course, as soon as he stepped outside, he was normal again. And they all saw it. It was like when Verbal Kint turned from gimp to Keyser Soze. Hilarious. By the way, JB threw up all over himself about 10 minutes after he did this. And now I am certain that since my boy faked a seizure for laughs...something bad had to happen in return. Sorry, Billy Mays, JB killed you with his dickheadery.

Finally, everyone hops into a van to head back to the shithole hotel except for Damman, Joel, Kuehn, and myself. There was not enough room. We're just hanging out in front of a strip club at 3 am in a terrible part of town. It's been 45 minutes and no cab has shown up eventhough we called for three of them. So this old lady driving a van shows up and picks up 3 drunk guys and she asks us where we need to go. She tells us to hop in. Let me be clear on this: this WAS NOT a taxi service. It was just some old lady driving around The Flats in a conversion van at 3 am. Although this is sketchy, fuck it, the four of us hop in. The lady has a DVD going of some Michael Jackson concert. It was weird. Really weird. She took us back without raping/killing us and we gave her like $5, but it was just bizarre. We just got into some weirdo's van...that is when you know that you've had too much to drink. And we asked her to take us to Taco Bell at least 10 times.

At about 3:45, the first appearance of Naptown Wolverine's testicles are seen. I didn't think that it would take that long. I angered Damman with this missive when he was already passing out (keep in mind, I talk REALLY loud when I'm wasted):
G$ - Hey! The Tribe traded DeRosa to the Cardinals.

So there you go. I'm sure there were a few things that I missed so feel free to add on in the comments. I will say this, Bob Evans hangover breakfast was absolutely terrible. I spent $5 on chocolate milk there though...which is always clutch. I've rambled on long enough so I've got to get going. After all, I NEED MY PILLS!

Friday, June 26, 2009

Stick It Up Your Brown Eyenga, Danny Ferry

God dammit. First of all, I wasn't planning on doing anything in anticipation of commenter Drew's guest post regarding why the Pistons were fucking stupid to draft Byron James Mullens. Didn't happen so I have to show up today and post something on my bachelor party eve.

Second, I have to listen to dumbasses wax idiotic about the life of Michael Jackson. Hey assholes, the guy raped numerous young children and paid his way out of prison. Who gives a shit if he made Thriller? HE SODOMIZED MACAULEY CULKIN AND WEBSTER!!!! Did the guy deserve to die and thus we should be pointing and laughing? No. But he sure as shit didn't deserve to live. Fuck him. I hope that Hitler is fucking him in the ass with a porcupine in Hell right now.

And finally, FUCK YOU, DANNY FERRY! You make an extremely solid move by adding Shaq to the Cavs and made a 66 win team better. Cavs fans were counting on some maneuvering last night to add a nice role player to the rotation. Everything was falling into place at pick 30 to get someone who can step in and help right away. Hell, you had your pick between Sam Young (who I really wanted), DeJuan Blair, Chase Budinger, DaJuan Summers, ANYBODY. Your move? Some fuck-up from the Congo named Christian Eyenga. Fucking Christian Eyenga.

I just don't get it. This guy will never step foot on an NBA court. He will likely never even see an NBDL court. If you didn't want to pick anyone, then why not just trade it? Why take a guy that will never contribute to this team and will be paid in AIDS vaccines and machetes. Jesus Christ! I had this text convo with occasional commenter JBeanie last night after that stupid pick:

Beanie: He would have been there in the second...or in 2014.

That is freaking hilarious but sadly true. What was going on in the Cavaliers war room anyway? Did anyone even show up except for the Somalian janitor? Did they forget about the last time that they drafted a guy from Africa? How did the Desagana Diop pick work out? FUCK!

Whatever. It's time to start focusing on the weekend. I will know this afternoon if our offer on the house was accepted and then focus on my last ditch effort to remain a swinging bachelor. Oh, and Damman, we need to add another event to the weekend. All 14 of us are going to shit in a bag, light it on fire, and then drive over to Danny Ferry's house and throw it at his smelly face. Have a good weekend everyone and pray that I don't drink myself stupid. Feel free to discuss the draft in the comments.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

This Really Hurts To Admit

With the always awesome NBA Draft tonight, I feel the need to say something. In regards to my Cavaliers and their draft, I have done a complete 180. You all know who my least favorite college basketball player probably ever is, right? Psycho fucking T himself. But I need to think about what would be best for my Cavs. And that is why I have done an about face on Hansbrough.

I really think that the Cavs should buy a pick in the teens and get him. You don't know how much that hurts to say, but I believe it. Much like I wanted the Redskins to go out and get T.O., sometimes you have to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. It just makes sense for multiple reasons.

1. Anderson Varejao isn't coming back. And why should he? He wants big money and is a 7 points/7 boards guy. Those players are a dime a dozen. Those are Kurt fucking Thomas numbers!
2. Hansbrough could instantaneously fill in for Andy. He's a scrapper who will dive all over the place and can get boards.
3. He has a pretty good mid-range game (AV does not).
4. He can make free throws (AV does not).
5. He would do this at a fraction of the price of Varejao. The Cavs are walking an extremely fine line when it comes to the cap anyway so cheap labor should be applauded when they can get it.
6. Look, we all hate him, but Hansbrough wins. He knows what it takes. He's not a headache. His effort is never questioned. He's very coachable.
7. That being said, I would rather have DeJuan Blair over Hansbrough but he will probably not last through the Pistons and the Bulls at 15 and 16 respectively.

I don't know that I could ever scream out "Fuck yeah, Psycho T is sick nasty!" but I think that he would be a nice little piece if he dons the wine and gold tonight. And don't even go there trying to say that I'm a fan of his because you know that I'm not. This is purely about making the Cavs better and if the opportunity arises to go get him, Danny Ferry needs to do that.

Ugh, this post made me feel so dirty. The Spurs and Wizards actually make themselves better this week and here I am talking about drafting an awkward white guy. Maybe I need another vacation from this here blog?

By the way, as long as the Cavs' pick is a known player, I have a feeling that he could be throwing out the first pitch at the Indians game on Saturday night. Just a hunch though.

You're Fired

In case you were concerned, I finally relieved our realtor of his "duties" yesterday. I use quotes around duties because he did very little other than making us twist in the wind for almost 3 months. And I accomplished this feat in the most awesome way possible...through e-mail! Honestly, I do not owe him any more than that. You may think that firing someone is awesome and, well, it is. There is no greater thrill than telling somebody that you don't want them anymore.

It almost made me puke thanking him for the "work" that he put in but it had to be done. This guy is the Shane Montgomery of realtors. She$ and I are ready to roll on another house anyway (update: actually put in an offer last night! Yay, being grown-up!). Our new realtor actually appears to care about us and that is quite refreshing. We may, just may, be living under the same roof by Christmas...4 months after our wedding! What can I say? I am one hell of a catch. Sorry, ladies, this sexy demon is off the market.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

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The Broken-Hearted Ramblings of an Indians Fan

***Hey fuckers, I'm taking the day off. I figured that, in my absence, we could all bask in the glory of an Indians fan destroying everyone in the organization. Let's all sit back and enjoy Damman's tears!***

It is with great sadness that I announce, after an almost 3 month battle with shitty starting pitching, a shitty bullpen, terrible situational hitting, bad base running and piss poor work from the manager, the Cleveland Indians season died this past weekend in Chicago. The final blow came on Saturday with the 2nd blown save in as many days by Kerry Wood. The Indians are survived by their fans who have had to suffer through some of the worst losses in baseball history this season.

Well, if I had to write an obituary for the Indians season, it would go something like that. Make no mistake, I was one of the last Indians fans to remain hopeful that they could turn this train wreck of a season around. But, after Friday's and Saturday's debacle, I have seen the light and that light is an oncoming freight train.

Today, I will break down what is wrong with this team and organization from top bottom and how I would go about fixing it. I would like to thank G$ for this chance to vent some frustrations that I'm sure are shared by Indians fans everywhere.

The Roster
A complete mess. Granted, they have had a lot of injuries, but I'm not going to use that as an excuse. I am going to break down the roster player by player giving them a grade on this season and my plans for the future for them.

Grady Sizemore - C. I am going to cut him some slack because of the injury. But he was awful while he was in the lineup. Still a cornerstone of the franchise.
Ben Francisco - D-. He sucks. He should be nothing more than a 5th outfileder.
Shin Soo Choo - A. He has been solid all year. Can hit for power, average, got a great arm, and has speed. Keep this guy for sure (ed. note - he's been dynamite on two of my fantasy teams!).
Mark Derosa - B. Got off to a bad start, but has come on strong lately. He will end up getting traded as he is in the last year of his contract.
Jhonny Peralta - F-. I absolutely hate this guy. He sleep walks through every game. He may be clinically dead. I put up with his shit because he was a decent hitter, but he's got a massive 3 HR and is hitting .250 this year. Trade him, but I can't see anyone wanting him.
Luis Valbuena - Incomplete. Still too young to tell, but he looks promising.
Asdrubal Cabrerra - A. Was having a great season until his injury. Definitely hold on to him.
Jamey Carroll - C. He's a good utility guy and he has that grinder mentality that Wedge sports massive wood over. Don't really have an opinion on him, he's just a guy.
Vic Martinez - A. Another franchise player. Keep him, the guy is beast at the plate and a great leader. Has got 1 year left on his contract and they need to sign him.
Kelly Shoppach - F-. An absolute turd. Hitting under .200 with 500 strikeouts this year. Never met a slider outside and in the dirt that he didn't like. Should have sold high on him after last year. Trade him, release him, do something so I don't have to watch him hit ever again.
Trevor Crowe - F. Hitting .160 this year. I think that pretty much says it all.
Josh Barfield - C. His grade would be much lower, but all he does is pinch run.
Chris Gimenez - C. Don't really have an opinion. He's young and he doesn't play much. He could use a more extended look.
Ryan Garko - D. He'll hit an occasional HR, but can't field, can't run, K's too much. So, yeah, get him out of here.
Travis Hafner - C. Has been all right when he plays. But he can't play more than 2 days in a row because of his shoulder. He also has a huge contract so we are stuck with him for 3 more years.

Cliff Lee - A. Has been great this year. Just gets no run support and has the bullpen from hell backing him up. Got 1 year left on his contract. I say hold on to him this year unless you get blown away by an offer for him. They won't be able to resign him after next year, so eventually he will probably get traded.
Fausto Carmona – F. Has been absolutely terrible this year. Maybe extended spring training can turn him around, but I don’t know. I give him one more shot, then cut the cord.
Anthony Reyes – F. Dog shit.
Carl Pavano – B. Surprisingly, has not been that bad. But he’s gone after this year and if his last two starts are an indication, we may have seen the best from him already.
Jeremy Sowers – F. Cat piss.
David Huff – D. Has been all right in spots, but very inconsistent. I’m willing to give him one more year.
Raffy Perez – F. Cow dung.
Raffy Betancourt – C. He’s been decent, which in this bullpen is amazing. Keep him.
Kerry Wood – F. Our big free agent signing has been awful. Although, he never gets to pitch so maybe I should cut him some slack. Maybe not. Get him out of here.
Aaron Laffey – B. Was a solid starter and then moved into the bullpen to try to clean up that cesspool. Will be a starter once he comes back from the DL. Keep him.
Everyone else in the bullpen – F-. I’m too lazy to type out the names of all the shit that has passed through the bullpen. Let’s just say they are the main reason the Indians are where they are now. They have walked so many guys, it’s sickening. Outside of Betancourt, get them the fuck out of here (ed. again - BRING BACK EDWARD MUJICA!!!).

Not sure if that’s everyone, but I think I hit on the main players. As you can see, this is a bad roster.

Eric Wedge
The Atomic Wedgie has long been a piƱata for Indians fans. His love for terrible, slow white guys who are “grinders” always drove me fucking crazy. Continuing to play guys like Trot Nixon, David Dellucci and Jason Michaels when they clearly suck was always baffling to me. His in-game managing skills are legendary for the wrong reasons. He has been to the playoffs once in six years. His interviews are also legendary. “We just gotta keep grinding.” “We have to take it day by day.” “It’s all about having a good approach.” Take any Wedge interview and one or all of those sentences will be uttered. While this disaster of a season is nowhere close to being all his fault, he needs to be fired. If for no reason then to just show the fans that an effort is being made to get better. It’s not going to save the season, but it’s a start. Bring back Mike Hargrove.

Front Office
This is where the problems lie. Years of bad drafting by Mark Shapiro and Co. have set this franchise back. Take a look at the 1st round draft picks by the Indians since Shapiro took over in 2001:
2001 – Dan Denham, Alan Horne
2002 – Jeremy Guthrie
2003 – Michael Aubrey, Brad Snyder
2004 – Jeremy Sowers
2005 – Trevor Crowe
2006 – No pick

I’ve left out the last couple years because those guys haven’t had a chance yet. But you can’t compete when you completely whiff on your 1st round picks like the Indians have. This even goes back further into the 90’s with bad drafts. Outside of CC Sabathia can anyone name a player that the Indians have drafted and developed in the last 10 years? Shapiro has made a couple good trades to get some guys that have panned out (Lee, Sizemore, ACab, and to a certain extent Hafner). But this team’s drafting and development has been atrocious. Especially troubling is the complete lack of pitching development.

Another not so impressive list for Shapiro is the list of free agents signed under his watch. Jason Michaels, David Dellucci, Roberto Hernandez, Guillermo Mota, Trot Nixon, Kerry Wood, Scott Stewart, Jorge Julio, Danny Graves (ed. - GOOK!!!). There are more, but that list of skid marks pretty much says it all. A mid market team like the Indians cannot continue to give big contracts to bums that don’t pan out. I don’t blame the Dolan’s for being cheap. The Indians payroll is $80 million this year (15th in baseball) so I put the blame squarely on Shapiro for continuing to misjudge talent and mismanage the roster year after year. So he needs to go, along with Wedge.

This franchise needs a total rebuild. The 2007 season was obviously a fluke. Wedge and Shapiro must go and start building again from scratch. Then the first thing that needs to be done is to start developing some hard throwing pitchers. I am so sick of seeing soft tossing lefties come and go with this team. Get some fucking power arms for god’s sake!

All right, I realize that I have rambled a bit and probably gone on a little too long (You asked for it, G$) but it kills me to see the team I have loved all my life in such horrible shape. It kills me to see them play in front of an empty stadium, a stadium that was rocking for the better part of the 90’s. So, Mr. Dolan, I beg for you to blow this thing up, start from scratch, and begin to resurrect this franchise from the dead. I will be donating a lot beer sales to you on Saturday night, so don’t let me down.

***Man, that was long. Way too many words for a team that does not deserve that much print.***

Worst Logo Ever

Yep, Mr. Ace has a diploma from this fucking shithole. Way to make your school look both nerdy with it's Mega Man persona and gay as well with the whole Ace and Gary thing it's got going on.

And this team beat Michigan last year!!!

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

You Can't Spell "Bernie Kosar" Without B-R-O-K-E

MIAMI (AP) - Former NFL and Miami Hurricanes star quarterback Bernie Kosar has filed for bankruptcy protection in Miami.

Kosar's Chapter 11 filing Friday lists assets between $1 million and $10 million and liabilities of between $10 million and $50 million.

Kosar owes almost $1.5 million in "unsecured debt" to the Cleveland Browns, who he played for from 1985 to 1993. Kosar also owes his ex-wife Babette $3 million and $725,000 (from a personal loan) to the owner of the Cleveland Gladiators of the Arena Football League. He owes a bank more than $9 million for bad real estate deals.

The 45-year-old Kosar got divorced in 2007 and last year saw his steakhouse go out
of business.

Nice. Probably the most popular player in the history of the Cleveland Browns pathetic franchise is officially a deadbeat. I guess that investing your money into Arena Football teams, Vicodin, and Maker's Mark whiskey is NOT a good decision. Huh? Who would have guessed that?

I never really understood why Browns fans loved Bernie anyway. I mean, he won nothing. He always got pimp-slapped by John Elway. He threw like a girl. He had a perm. Even recently, he has shown up for his preseason game broadcasting gig with the same rosy glow of a drunken Irishman. If anything, Kosar has always been an embarrassment. But maybe that is why they love him.

Either way, come Saturday night when G$ and his boys are leaving the Reds/Indians games for greener pastures, I look forward to not giving Kosar any of my spare change as he sits on the corner of Ontario and Carnegie. What a loser.

Nice Choke, Phil!

Phil Mickelson sucks. People that root for Phil suck. The guy is a loser. His fans are losers. The US Open was his. The only people in his way were Crispin Glover, the 882nd ranked player in the world, former Detroit Tiger Skeeter Barnes, and Lois Pewterschmidt's old boyfriend, Ross Fishman, and he STILL pissed it away. I guess it probably would be hard to hit quality shots with a dick in your ass and both of your hands around your throat. Maybe we should ask Dut about that. I watched a lot of the US Open this past weekend (except for yesterday when I was earning my food stamps), here are a few quick thoughts.

*Bravo to Ryan Moore and Johan Edfors. You don't see many golfers rock the beard anymore. Nice look...lofty look.

*Tiger just didn't make enough putts this weekend. I will say this and yes, I am making excuses for my boy. Had he not played his first two rounds in the rain, he wins. Look at the people that finished in the top ten...I believe that Tiger was the only one that had to deal with the rain. Whatever though, as long as Phil didn't win, it's fine by me.

*I was pulling for David Duval. Had he won the tournament, it would have been one of the greatest sports stories of all time. Hopefully, he can keep this going and compete in more tournaments. It was great seeing him back looking like Bruce Hooley.

*But that was such a bullshit tournament. The US Open winner finishes 3 over on his final round and STILL wins by two shots? Fuck that. Bethpage should be ashamed with that.

*Is it just me or does Rocco Mediate's ass double as a drive-in movie theater? That thing is massive.

*I already had my New York Post-esque headline ready if Ricky Barnes won: BARNES IS NOBLE! Creative, huh? I also would have used for Glover, "If the Glover fits, you must acquit!"

All in all, a pretty crappy tournament this past weekend only made great because Mickelson reminded us all that he likes to piss his pants in big moments. And what was the deal with his clothes? Just disgusting. Onto the British Open and a Tiger victory...unfortunately, America's favorite white belt wearing ball-gagger will not be showing up to miss the cut. We'll live.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Pretty Prettttaaaaaay Good

It's June 22nd. We are a little less than half way through the baseball season. I think that it's fair to start changing our assumptions about teams into facts. If you still suck 70 games into the season, why would you stop sucking all of a sudden? And if you are in the mix now, you should be able to hang around all year. So it's time to head back into the archives and dig up my preseason MLB predictions and analyze/change things. If you want to read them in their entirety and see what guest helper, Kenny Powers, had to say, the AL is here and the NL is here. By the way, if you even think that I'm going to not mention how my World Series pick, the Giants, are currently a playoff team (or at least very close), you are fucking nuts. I am one clairvoyant sumbitch. Let's start in the AL:

AL East
Then: Yankees, Red Sox, Rays, Orioles, Blue Jays
Now: Swap the O's and Jays
Thoughts: I still think that the Yankees win the East once A-Rod figures things out at the plate. The Red Sox lineup really isn't that good eventhough they are loaded with starting pitching except for Brad Penny who sucks ass. The Rays are who I TOLD YOU THEY WERE. They had no chance this year. You can blame injuries all you want, but that is just an excuse. That team was a fluke. The Jays will slide. It's been the ultimate smoke and mirrors job north of the border this Spring.

AL Central
Then: Twins, Royals, Indians, White Sox, Tigers
Now: Tigers, Twins, Royals, White Sox, Indians
Thoughts: I'm all over the place on this one. I did not see WhiteTrashlander and Eddie Jackson figuring out how to pitch. Miggy Cabrera has been a bit of a disappointment (he should be better than this). It appears that Joe Mauer can not be pitched to. The White Sox suck. I just don't understand the hope that the Indians are clinging to. They are losing games now in ways that are almost impossible. It's time to blow this thing up. I would get rid of that underachieving fag Sizemore first. Dude is not a superstar. By the way, in the initial post, Damman stated numerous times in the comments how good the Tribe's bullpen was going to be...nice call. Maybe you should start watching softball.

AL West
Then: Angels, Rangers, A's, Mariners
Now: Same
Thoughts: The Angels will hold off Texas because their manager does not look like Tyrone Biggums. And then the Angels will do what they do best and get swept out of the playoffs by Boston. Josh Hamilton is being a real bitch this year on my fantasy team. I couldn't name one pitcher on the A's. Seattle starts Russell Branyan...they deserve to be in last place which is where they will eventually reside.

MVP then: Miguel Cabrera MVP now: Mark Teixeira narrowly over Mauer
Cy Young then: CC Cy Young now: Roy Halladay
Manager then: Trey Hillman Manager now: Ron Washington's $400,000 crack party
Rookie then: Matt Wieters Rookie now: same since I can't remember any other rookie in the AL other than Nick Adenhart and I don't see him taking this award home
Playoffs then: Yankees over Twins, Red Sox over Angels...Yankees over Red Sox Playoffs now: Swap the Tigers for the Twins and it's the same

NL East
Then: Mets, Phillies, Marlins, Braves, Nationals
Now: Phillies, Mets, Braves, Marlins, Nationals
Thoughts: The Mets just really aren't that good. They have a great pitcher and a few good hitters, but really nothing else. And Jerry Manuel is a nutjob. Did you know that the Phils were like 12-15 games over .500 on the road but had a losing record at home this year? What the fuck is that all about? How many times per day do you think that Bobby Cox daydreams of killing Jeff Francouer? The Nationals would win the division if they played the Yankees everyday. Dan Uggla might be the worst player in baseball.

NL Central
Then: Cubs, Reds, Cardinals, Astros, Brewers, Pirates
Now: Brewers, Cardinals, Cubs, Reds, Astros, Pirates
Thoughts: The Brewers will go out and get a pitcher before the deadline is up. Ryan Braun seems to hate me because he hits at least 5 home runs during the week in which he faces my fantasy teams. When will the Cards ever pull off a deal to get Pujols some help? Even someone like Mark DeRosa would help them exponentially. I just don't see it this year from the Cubs. The pitching has been OK but the bullpen is horrendous. The hitting is rotten. They went what felt like an entire month never scoring more than 2 runs in a game. Joey Votto being a pussy killed the Reds' chances. The 'Stros and Buccos are just along for the ride.

NL West
Then: Giants, Dodgers, D-Backs, Rockies, Padres
Now: Dodgers, Giants, D-Backs, Rockies, Padres
Thoughts: You all laughed when I picked the Giants to win the NL. But they have been a scrappy team this year with Lincecum and Cain being two of the best pitchers in the league. They still need another stick desperately (Aubrey Huff?) but I like their odds. The Dodgers have been outstanding in spite of their shaky starting pitching and very little power. Just goes to show how horrible the West truly is. I know nothing of the Diamondbacks other than Brandon Webb is a snatch. The Rockies suck...I hate Troy Tulowitzki. He runs like he needs a backiotomy. OK, the Padres are really bad but why would anyone ever throw a strike to Adrian Gonzalez? Boggles my mind.

NL MVP then: David Wright NL MVP now: Albert Pujols
Cy Young then: Chad Billingsley Cy Young now: same
Manager then: Bruce Bochy Manager now: same
Rookie then: Pablo Sandoval Rookie now: same!
Playoffs then: Dodgers over Mets, Giants over Cubs............Giants over Dodgers Playoffs now: Dodgers over Phillies, Giants over Brewers.....Giants over Dodgers

I'm sticking with my Giants until they lose in the series to the Yankees. Not bad, as you can see. Fire away in the comments. Oh, and this is somewhat of a monumental post as this is The Money Shot's 800th career blog! Congratulations to the sexy blogger who runs this site. FYI, the three year blogiversary is coming up soon, too.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Pardon Me?

I knew it! I knew that the Taliban was comprised entirely of Ohio State Fans! You know what the terrorists rally cry was on 9/11? O-H...I-O! But let's be nice to these guys, after all I have heard that the Viet Cong wear Maize and Blue...and they, too, lost to Toledo. ZING! Take that, people-who-overestimate-the-national-importance-of-their-football-teams!

Enough of those quasi-racist observations, let's end the week with a terrifying mail-in post.

It's been a tough week to be a sports fan. We saw Donte' Stallworth not get punished eventhough he killed a guy. Cubs fans from around the world were forced to distance themselves from their one time hero. Red Wings fans lost with the least amount of class possible. A few more Florida Gators were probably arrested. Kobe fucking Bryant won another championship proving that sometimes the bad guys do win. The Yankees lost two out of 3 at home against the fucking Nationals. It hasn't been easy to be a fan recently. And it could be getting worse...

Maurice Clarett wants out.

Fucker is actually considering asking Governor Strickland for a pardon. Are you kidding me? His stupid lawyer actually believes that Mo still has the chance to play professional football, too. Apparently, if you blog about your past and say that you would like to mentor other losers, that is deserving enough to get out of jail early. Well, bitch, it isn't. Not to me at least.

Nevermind that the guy pissed away his life one bottle of Grey Goose at a time. Or that he tried to bury the school that actually gave his loser ass a chance. Or that his favorite clothing designer is Kevlar. Or that he likes leading high speed chases on the central Ohio highways. Or his love for brandishing a gun at people on New Year's Eve in an attempt at armed robbery. Or even his propensity to gallavant around town with numerous loaded assault weapons. All that aside, this convict would like his freedom back...and he wants it NOW!

Fuck this. He's got a year left on his sentence. Clarett has earned every fucking day of that sentence. If he does end up following through on the clemency procedure, it should get a big red "REJECTED" on it as soon as the judge/governor receives it. Kind of like every time that Red was up for parole at Shawshank.

The legal system let us down already once this week. I beg that they don't do it again. Keep this fucker in the clink. Have a good weekend. Hopefully next week we will actually have some non-shitty stories to discuss.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Do You Even Care Anymore?

Sammy Sosa got outed as a steroid user. Does it even matter anymore? Will you remember Sammy as the juiced up freak or as the young Latino with the awesome hair in the picture? I hope that it's the latter. Look, I'm not going to get into this again. I, and I think everyone has, have become de-sensitized by all the shit that comes from MLB.

I hope that all of you, even the most devoted Cubs fan, always knew deep down that something wasn't really on the up and up when it came to Sammy. And really, who gives a fuck? Do you remember the 1998 season at all? In the months of August and September, were you not interested in every Cardinals or Cubs game being played? That home run chase was amazing and brought many fans back to the game after the strike killed the league in 1994. I won't forget that year. McGwire and Sosa, regardless of how they did it, captivated an entire nation. Well, those two and the best team of all time...the '98 Yankees.

Maybe I'm being naive as I sit here flicking my Sosa bobblehead. No, I'm really not. It could be worse though. Sosa could have pulled a Mel Hall. Remember him? And by "pulling a Mel Hall", I mean, "sexually assaulting a 12 year old".

The woman testified that Hall first exposed himself to her and her younger brother at home, when their parents were away (they weren't required to look). The boy testified that he thought they were playing a game and never told his parents (worst game ever?). Hall's interaction with the girl progressed to inappropriate touching and him showing her how to perform oral sex, she testified (he's here to help!). She said he also showed her pornographic movies at an apartment Hall shared with his girlfriend and their infant son (since when was this illegal?).

Mel Hall, ladies and gentlemen!!! See...Sammy doesn't seem like such a bad guy now, does he?

An Obligatory US Open Post

There. That is the most creative title that I could think of. I've been sitting here for ten minutes trying to think of anything better and the best I can do is something borderline racist. And I won't go there, dammit! At least not in the title, honky.

So the US Open tees off tomorrow. It's my least favorite of the majors just because watching guys struggle isn't all that appealing to me. Don't get me wrong, I don't like those -20 tournaments either, but plus scores winning isn't cool to me. Tiger is back trying to defend his title from last year and his title from the last time this event was held at Bethpage Black in New York. Will he defend it? You bet your sweet ass he will. It won't even be close either. By the time I go to lunch tomorrow, I expect to hear that he finished his first round at 4 under and is the leader in the clubhouse. I love Tiger.

I hate Phil. He's going to suck. Everyone will make excuses for him. His wife is clearly a gold digger or, in this case, a silver digger:
“She has left me a number of notes, texts, cards, hints that she would like a silver trophy in her hospital room,” Mickelson said Wednesday.

Well, la-dee-fucking-da, your majesty. Would you also like your tiara and ceptur so you can be dubbed Queen of the Hospital, too? And why would she expect to get the trophy anyway? She didn't win it. She didn't launch drives into the fairway three holes over and choke clutch putts. Oh--hold on a second--just got a text from She$...she would like me to bring her a Super Bowl ring, Ted Williams frozen head, and a bloomin' onion tonight promptly at 8:47 pm.

Please don't take that last paragraph seriously. But it does seem a bit odd to see the headline: "Mickelson's wife wants US Open Trophy". Well, she better start hitting the driving range then.

So to recap: Tiger is going to win rather easily, Amy Mickelson wants things that her husband will never be able to give her, I still make inappropriate jokes, and expect a good showing from Hunter Mahan this weekend as well. Enjoy the tournament (except for the times when Chris Berman talks).

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Thirty F'n Days?

Sorry, boys, but today is one of those days where outside shit negatively effects the amount of time that I can blog. But then again, I'm actually too depressed to give you guys what you want. Why? Because it's quite obvious that the double standard in our legal system has reared it's ugly, bullshit head again. Apparently, you can buy your way out of even the worst of crimes.

I was always under the assumption that if you killed somebody, you were fucked. You would at least be spending a decade in the clink. Throw in the added bonus of being legally drunk and you can kiss your waste of a life goodbye. Which brings us to Donte Stallworth. We all know the story. He was drunk. He ran over a guy in his Bentley. It's about the slam-dunking-est of slam dunk cases for even the dumbest district attorney. This piece of shit is going to do some serious time. Yet somehow it all went wrong.

Fucker rescinds his not-guilty stance to plead guilty yesterday. His punishment was tantamount to sitting in a time out for two years. Stallworth's penance looks like this:

30 days in jail
a confidential settlement with the family of the guy that he killed
2 years of house arrest in which he is still allowed to play football
8 years probation
no driving ever again (in which he can get privileges back after 5 years)
1,000 hours of community service.

Stallworth was facing 15 years in prison. He got this fucking deal instead. I don't know who to be more pissed at here. Should I be angry at the DA for actually putting this joke offer on the table in which they were almost 100% getting a guilty verdict? How about the family for dishonoring Mario Reyes' memory by not making Stallworth suffer much and taking a likely small cash pay-off to keep them quiet? Or how about our fucked-up legal system that allowed this to happen? They already fucking let Leonard Little get away with murder, why on earth are the courts allowing this happen again!!!

Look, I've got a few readers that are or will be involved in the legal system. If ANY of you ever pull off shit like this and get a drunk-driving killer off with a slap on the wrist, I will pistol whip every one of your family and friends regardless of age. Of course, I would need to get a pistol first but I'm sure that Plaxico Burress would give me one if I asked nicely. I hate our justice system. Once again, the Reyes family gets fucked over by Donte Stallworth.

If he ends up playing for the Browns this year, I expect that asshole in The Dawg Pound with the dog mask and bone to run on the field with a chainsaw and give Stallworth what he has coming to him (that means cutting off his limbs). Fucking ridiculous. He isn't even good! I can accept Ray Lewis buying his freedom, but not this shit. I hate this country's legal system. Now if you don't mind, I'm packing a case of Grey Goose and driving down to Florida so that I can play bumper cars with human beings and only get 30 days behind bars. Assholes.

Oh! Before we actually part for the day, let me drop this on you: in this country, the punishment for killing pitbulls is SEVENTEEN TIMES more strict than killing a construction worker. Good to know. The terrorists have officially won.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Would You Like A Fresh Tampon, Sir?

Good Lord, we've got some big time pussies in the news. I can't believe that I forgot to mention this yesterday, but there are two current news events taking place that make professional athletes seem like the sandiest vaginas in the world. Don't whine to the media. Don't just assume that you were being disrepected. Don't get all butt-hurt when someone mentions how tired your schtick is. Just do what any grown man would do...the next time you play against that team/person, you try to hurt them/him. Let's discuss these two examples of titanic douchebaggery:

1.) Francisco Rodriguez
OK, so during this past weekend's Subway Series, there was an incident involving K-Rod and Brian Bruney. After the Luis Castillo dropped can of corn, BB mentioned something like "it couldn't have happened to a more deserving person". He followed that up by saying that his opinion doesn't matter because K-Rod probably doesn't even know his name, but the sentiment made it into the other clubhouse. Bruney announced to the world that K-Rod's nightly mound celebrations were bush league and that he needs to have more things like the dropped pop-up happen to him. Look, I think that we can all agree that K-Rod is a fucking asshole on the mound. Sure, you can say that I'm being a hypocrite about this considering my love for Joba and his gyrations. But there is one big difference in this that I use for my defense. K-Rod has done this before. Joba hasn't. He's still trying to learn how to keep his emotions in check. It's not an excuse at all. I know that he can overexaggerate sometimes but, usually, it's just a fist-pump and maybe a scream. Rodriguez still dances around the mound after a save like he's Frank fucking Drebin! He saved 60+ games last year (with a pretty average 2.25 ERA by the way), he should know better. And if he does get criticized, he's been around long enough to let it roll off his back. Not K-Rod. He tries to get all up in Bruney's face during batting practice before the game on Sunday. Keep in mind, Bruney was REHAB-ING at the time. Come on, you fag. Nothing that Bruney said was wrong. He does behave like a spoiled little bitch on the mound. If you don't want to be besmirched, then don't act like a jackass. It's common sense. Biblical lesson alert! Do unto others as you would want them to do unto you. There is no way that I got that right but the same applies to this situation. Stop acting like a cuntfart on the hill and maybe your peers will stop calling you a sack of shit. Common sense, right?

2.) The Detroit Red Wings and their fans
There are probably 2 or 3 of you here that know and understand the traditions involved in the NHL. I know that I don't. Except for booing Gary Bettman, I don't know anything. And I doubt that the Blue Jackets will be helping me learn these intricacies any time soon. So after the Pens won their first cup in 17 years...on enemy soil...in the first road team game seven win in the NHL in 38 years; apparently Sidney Crosby was whistled for a handshake shot clock violation. A couple of pussies named Draper and Zetterburg are upset because the captains of both teams are supposed to shake hands soon after the final horn and The Kid took a little too long. They found it disrespectful. To that I make the biggest wanking motion that I could possibly make. Fuck you. I find it hard to believe that Crosby displayed any intent at all to be a sore winner. I watched the celebration. There was only jubilation on his face, no malice. As I said before, it was a freaking monumental win in one of the better Stanley Cup Finals in recent memory. Can't we at least give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe, just maybe, it was OK that the future of the league was allowed to celebrate with his teammates just a little bit longer than the 30 seconds that Nicklas Lidstrom allowed? Honestly, if this happened in Pittsburgh, this would not even be an issue. But since the Wings embarrassed themselves and their fans at home, they want to take the spotlight off of them somehow. Mission accomplished, I guess. And before you bring LeBron and his handshake into this mix, did you see anyone on the Magic or Lakers shake hands on Sunday night. Of course not. Not publicly at least. So back off on that. Basically, what this all boils down for me is that if you don't want to feel as though you have been disrespected, then just fucking win and you can show everyone how it's done. But since you didn't, enjoy the new traditions in the league where teams are allowed to celebrate a bit longer and you have to fucking watch until they are ready to shake your hands. You fucking losers.

The fans that have been blowing up the sports talk radio down here bitching and moaning about how Sid has no class, well fuck you, too. What shows less class anyway: being late to a handshake or questioning the character of a guy that just beat my team? Fucking hypocrites.

Jesus Christ, are athletes a bunch of pink tacos or what? I should run a class in which I teach professional athletes how to behave. I would call it, "Quit Being A Faggot 559". It's a grad-school level class and I would charge $5,000 per session. These guys are athletes which means that they are idiots. I could clean up on this.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Candlebox Is Still Alive and the Weekend That Was

I've got 5 things that I want to talk about today that transpired over the weekend. No intro, no nonsense. Let's get right to it.

The City of Champions - My prediction from Friday ended up being accurate as the Penguins walked out of Detroit as Stanley Cup champions. The game was awesome. Marc-Andre Fleury was the cat's pajamas and his stops at the end were amazing. Good stuff all around. Bravo to the Wings fans for sticking around and cheering Mario Lemiuex when he raised the Cup. Also bravo for booing the shit out of Gary Bettman. What a weasel. One thing that I couldn't help but notice during the Pens celebration was that Sidney Crosby might not be the most liked guy on that team. It seemed like he was seeking out hugs instead of people trying to find him. Maybe it's not true, but I wonder. Either way, this was a very good season for the future of the NHL.

Luis Castillo is the worst player ever - Nice fucking catch, asshole.

Wait a minute, Candlebox is still together? - Went downtown on Saturday for Park Street something or other. It's pretty much like a Rally in the Alley times 200. People were everywhere...way too many assholes. Commenter Damman wanted to rumble with some dickbag that spilled beer on him. He was wearing sunglasses at 10 pm...he would have killed Damman. Anyway, the band playing the event was none other than late-90's kind-of-a-big-deal rock band, CANDLEBOX! I loved these guys when I was in high school. Hearing "Far Behind" took me back. They put on a very solid show. Candlebox...what an obscure reference.

That was Ochocinco, dammit - Speaking of the Park Street Festival, I swear to God that Chad Johnson was there. I have no idea how to check Twitter to confirm this, but I know that that was him. A tall, rangy black guy who looked like a dick and loved killing my fantasy team...that had to be 85. Maybe someone a little more internet-saavy than me can check on this. I should have punched him in his fucking jaw anyway. Fake face tattoos? You suck balls.

Cleveland is Shaqtastic...maybe - I didn't think that Danny Ferry should have traded for the Diesel at the deadline this past year. Now, it appears that those talks are back on. If the Suns are willing to take Ben Wallace and Sasha for him, how can you say no to this! Who knows, maybe they want more. Even if they ask for JJ Hickson, I still think that you do this. Offer those three and get Shaq and their first rounder then. When Kobe wins his title (maybe last night), do you really think that Shaq is going to not answer? Of course not! He is going to kill it trying to one-up Kobe again! He's sort of perfect, even in his advanced age, for the Mike Brown system anyway. Please get this done...I just want to get my Shaq Diesel CD out again.

The second worst round of golf ever - So yesterday, Ol' G$ had quite a golf outing with commenters Dut (who unintentionally was wearing his shirt inside out) and Damman and the hottest bartender in Columbus involved. I am about the definition of mediocre on the links as I shot a putrid 58 on the front and followed that with a sizzling 43 on the back at Mentel Memorial in Galloway ($31 bucks for a weekend round w/ cart? Fuck. Yes.). It was the best 9 that I have ever put together in my life. Damman and I managed to destroy those two losers in skins 14-4 with D shooting a robust 89. I want to discuss Dut for a moment before going away for the day. This guy steps up to the tee on 1 and rips the shit out of one. Neither of us had played with him before so seeing this happen on his first shot had us a bit awestruck. That may have been his only decent shot of the day. I told him that I would not tell him what he ended up shooting, but I'm a liar. He knows this. Fucker shot a 124. One hundred twenty four! I have seen the worst round of golf ever with Naptown Wolverine "firing" a 125 before, and this was just as bad. Dut...you suck. I should not be beating anyone by 23 shots. I couldn't beat my mom by 23 shots and I assume that she is terrible. Maybe not "Dut" terrible, but still bad. You lost to Damman by 35! You are officially banned from golfing with me. In fact, I would recommend all of you to ban Dut from your foursomes until he takes some lessons. That's what you get for hanging out at Spice Bar...and wearing a Bowling Green hat. If you actually thought that a crappy performance like this would not be written about, then obviously you do not know me. But I think that deep down, you knew this was coming. You earned the scorn of my commenters.

It was also deemed that I have the whitest legs ever. Why would I be embarrassed about this anyway? I'm a white guy who hates the sun. Anyway, we sort of ran the gamut of topics today. It's sort of like those old Hump Day Hump columns that I used to run on Wednesdays. Well, how about that. Hopefully, when you read this, the Lakers will have put the Flukes out of their misery. Go to Hell. I'm writing a guest post over at The Big Picture for tomorrow...I need to focus.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Game. Seven.

We don't talk about hockey much around these parts. We've avoided mentioning that my Blue Jackets are in horrible shape financially and I'm still trying to recover from the RedHawks titanic choke in the finals of the Frozen Four. But when something as awesome as a game seven for The Stanley Cup comes up, it gets it's own post.

In case you haven't been paying attention, these Finals have been extremely well played and quite interesting. And much to everyone's surprise, the ratings have been great. I missed game 5 which just so happened to be the only thing worse than my ten year reunion but every other game has been outstanding. And with game 7 going down tonight in the "Newark of the Midwest", I figured that I may as well unleash a quick and uneducated bad prediction post that commenter Drew will tear to shreds.

The Penguins are going to win. I'm feeling something like 3-2. A large chunk of me is rooting for this to happen because Detroit is a shithole when it comes to everything, but I've come up with 4 arbitrary reasons for this that basically have nothing to do with the product on the ice:

1. The home team isn't going to win every game. Eventhough a home team hasn't lost a game 7 in the Stanley Cup since 1971 (research! HOCKEY research!!!), it's bound to happen. The last time that a series in any sport was home chalk was...sigh...the 2001 World Series.

2. If the Cavs can't help Cleveland through tough economic times, the Wings shouldn't get to help Detroit either. Fuck 'em...fair is fair.

3. Jaromir Jagr's awesome mullet from 1992 is much better than Mike Babcock's faggy Ken doll haircut.

4. Hmmm, I thought that I had a 4th one. I guess not. Chris Osgood sucks? Was that it? I don't think so but we'll go with Chris Osgood sucks. Oh wait! Call this the Marian Hossa factor. The guy played the role of mercenary all year, trying to piggy-back a title with the Wings. He has been awful all series. Not just bad, but awful. The sports Gods will not allow this bag of crap to hoist the Cup.

Even if you are not a hockey fan, do yourself a favor and turn on NBC tonight (I didn't even have to look that up either!) and watch this. Not to go all Johnny Cliche on you, but it is truly what sports are all about. GO PENGUINS!!! Back on Monday...don't get too tanked tonight, Drew.

This Is What It Sounds Like When The Trash Cries

Remember BJ Mullens? The hillbilly oaf that played one mediocre season at Ohio State this past winter and then declared for the NBA Draft eventhough he couldn't even start for them? Yeah. That guy. He also characterized himself as a mix between Garnett, Dirk, and Amare. You would think that a man of that sort of ability would be an absolute beast on the court and dominate whatever is in his path.

You would be wrong. Very wrong.

Jonathan Givony says in his podcast that an assistant GM saw BJ Mullens crying in the locker room at one of the mass workouts following a head-to-head matchup with Luke Nevill of Utah. Givony says that the workout hurts Mullens because Nevill is projected as "undrafted".

Come on! What a pussy. For the record, I have no idea who this Nevill kid is but it does not surprise me one bit that he owned Byron James. The kid is terrible. Some team is going to be really lucky to cut this grown, mature man a 7 figure check in a few weeks. These BJ Mullens stories keep getting better and better. I'm praying that the next one involves a skidmarked tighty-whitey. Or some Mad Dog 20/20. BJ Mullens: The Official Mascot of this site.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Your Draft Is Less Than 3 Months Away!

Guys, I know it. The posts at this once glorious site have been mediocre over the past two weeks or so. I'm not naive. At the same time, there is absolutely nothing going on in sports. The lead story on ESPN.com is about Amy Mickelson's tit lump. THAT is how dull June has been. So what do we do now? Where do we go from here? Well, bitches, it's time to start thinking about that one great day that you experience every August. It's time to start thinking about...


Oh, fuck yes. By the way, to those members that read this site, I'm leaning toward having the G$FL Draft on Sunday the 23rd. Nothing concrete yet, but that is what I'm thinking.

I've been sporadically doing some research for this upcoming season and the usual suspects like Matthew Berry have their position rankings out. There is one thing that always bothers me about these rankings. Why is Steven Jackson still considered a top 5 RB (believe me, he is according to the "experts")? This guy has done nothing special to warrant this kind of reputation as a superstar. Trust me, I owned him in a league last year and loved it when he scored 4 touchdowns for me in the first 12 weeks of the season and not even dressing for half of those games. He does this every fucking season! I realize that he doesn't split carries with anyone (Antonio Pittman? Seriously?) but still...you can't trust the guy to produce consistently.

Here are 3 more reasons why Steven Jackson should be avoided like Amy's tit lump (OK, asshole, breast cancer jokes are not cool at all):
1. The Rams are fucking terrible and will be losing big in at least 10 games this year.
2. Their offensive line is rotten. Even if they can run block decently, their QB's are going to get killed.
3. Steven Jackson had his penis replaced for a 6 foot long rastafarian pussy. He's just like Brian Westbrook in that they will always be a game-time decision. The only difference is that Westbrook almost always plays and Jackson will be deactivated 99% of the time.

Look, I spent $66 of my $200 salary cap in my auction league for him last year. I wouldn't spend $6 on him this season. For the record, I also spent $86 on Tom Brady last season. $152 of my $200 cap for 7 total touchdowns all season. Needless to say, I finished dead last. I just can't stress this enough to you fantasy players out there...NEVER DRAFT STEVEN JACKSON no matter if there is value there. Fuck him. Cut your hair, dick.

I've Seen Enough

OK, Rice Queen, it's time for you to go now. Nice face, by the way. I'm not one that believes that people should not get a second chance, but Wang has had his shot (again) and he still sucks giant goat balls. Pack your bags, bitch, and get ready to make the extended trip to Scranton. You could work for Dunder-Mifflin on your off days.

Much has been said about how awful Steroids Ortiz has been this season. You could also lump Grady Sizemore, Ken Griffey, Jr., Francisco Liriano, Brad Lidge, and everyone on the Diamondbacks into that argument, too. But no one has been worse this year than Chien-Ming Wang. Allow me to demonstrate:

21.1 innings pitched this year
45 hits
34 earned runs
2.67 WHIP
Opponent's batting average is .446!
ERA of 14.34

It's the fucking middle of June! If he can't get it right now, it isn't going to happen.

Yet Unfrozen Caveman Manager is likely too stupid to send this shithead away. You know, teams are looking to deal for major league pitching...I wonder if Wang could be used in a trade for a utility man? Would the Indians trade DeRosa for Wang if they continue to not be competitive? Maybe not. At this point, I would take a giant bowl of dick salad just to see him never put on the pinstripes again. Get Phil Hughes back in the rotation where he belongs...he should not have lost his spot anyway. All that I want is ONE fucking win over the Red Sox. Is that too much to ask for?

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

I Think I'm Gonna Hurl

I'm not going to lie...I'm still in mourning over the Cavaliers abrupt end to what could have been so much more. As I said the Monday after they were eliminated, now starts the most important offseason in Cleveland history in any sport. Well, it sounds like Danny Ferry and Dan Gilbert completely disagree and are doing whatever it takes to send LeBron to the Knicks. Because I'll tell you what, if they acquire either of these shitbags, they might as well pack his fucking bags for him. This is just disgusting.

Slam Magazine reports that the Cleveland Cavaliers and Rasheed Wallace have started talks about a two-year deal. Although league rules prevent any type of negotiations between free agents and teams until July 1, the reporter, J. Gamble, also writes that if the Cavs don't sign Wallace, the Cavs will do a sign and trade for Zach Randolph of the Los Angeles Clippers.

The fuck? Really? What the fuck? You show interest in an old man who can not be trusted and quite obviously quit on his team in the playoffs the past THREE seasons. Sheed is your first fucking target? This guy is the most hated man in the NBA among Cleveland fans. There is no redeeming quality to this trash-ass other than the fact that he carried around a wrestling belt for an entire season. Fuck you, Danny. But I guess that Rasheed isn't that bad of an option compared to that other guy.

Zach Randolph is the worst player and teammate in the NBA. He's fat. He sucks. He's owed 35 million dollars over the next two years. He plays no defense. He is a black hole on offense. He may have had one assist all year. He is the proud owner of the title of "worst possession ever". Every team that he's played on has gotten better the year after he left. Yet I am being led to believe that Z-Bo is the final piece to the puzzle. Fuck you, Danny. We have no answer for Dwight Howard in the playoffs and apparently our braintrust believes that Zach fucking Randolph is the answer to that.

Should I just start distancing myself from the Cavs now? Charlie Villanueva has openly said that he would love to play in Cleveland but we want Rasheed, dammit. Why try to snag a 24 year old above average player (who is still getting better, by the way) in the mold of Lamar Odom and Rashard Lewis? Not when a 34 year old quitting center that only shoots three's and gets T's is available! I mean, how could a 13 year veteran coming off a shitty 12/7 season be anywhere other than the top spot on any championship-caliber team's wish list!

God dammit. The Cavs were sent home over a week ago and yet it feels like they are still losing with these fucked up rumors.

You know, I got back to my desk from lunch yesterday and there was a booger on my post-it notes. Initially, I thought that it could have been an errant nose blow, but the angle was just too strange so that was quickly tossed aside. So now I get the feeling that someone on my floor is wiping their nose on my desk everyday. It's something that I'm going to have to keep my eye on. If my desk is slowly but surely being covered in boogers, this feels like something that I may have to address down the road. Yet I find these Rasheed Wallace/Zach Randolph to the Cavs rumors more disgusting.

We finally got it open this past year and it already feels like the Cavaliers' championship window is shut.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Weak Sauce

God dammit. I had this really angry post to unleash today but instead you get a half-assed blog from a beaten down blogger. What are you gonna do? I'm not good enough at this craft to separate the real world from the dick jokes.

So She$ and I put an offer in on this place the day after fucking Easter. That was in fucking April by the way. It's been sitting on a fucking desk at the bank for awhile now and our dipshit realtor hopes to have an answer about whether they even ACCEPT the fucking deal by the end of June. Come on, man. Almost three months to find out even if they accept the offer? That shit is not right at all. Talking to pops about this scenario and it is getting more and more likely that this is going to fall through and it's back to the shitty drawing board. The best part about this is that we get married in less than 2 months. Barring a miracle, we're not even going to have a house the day that we get married. And that shit is fucked. It's bullshit. I don't understand the real estate process. Why does it take so damn long? If this is a buyer's market, then why are we being prevented from buying? Fuck this. But enough about my problems...I could rectify this situation by not only burning the realtor's house down while jamming to some Danzig, but also by...

..throwing out deadlines like Brad Childress. How about that segue? My realtor is to selling houses as Childress is to NFL coaching credibility. They both suck if you couldn't follow that. Who the fuck is this bald prick to be laying down the law to Brett Favre anyway? Like it really matters if Favre waits until August to decide. Boomer Esiason's son could start for the Vikings behind center. ***If you get that reference, you should be busting up laughing and will be joining me in Hell.***

I'm getting sick of this shit which I'm sure all of you are, too. I turn on SportsCenter on Sunday at 6 after a day of Tiger dominating, Tony Stewart (whose nickname is "Smoke", which I had never heard before, I thought it was WIDE LOAD) wins a race, the NBA Finals are that night, and plenty of baseball going on. What does ESPN open with? Brett Favre had surgery on his arm and MIGHT come back to the NFL! Come on, I don't have the stomach to deal with this bullshit anymore. This isn't that big of a story anyway. It's just like dealing with my realtor. Just tell me the fucking truth and don't beat around the bush. Knock it the fuck off already. Quit dicking me/us around.

Do you want to know what you can get me for my birthday/wedding present other than a competent realtor? I don't ask for much. I just want this:

I would wear this shirt every damn day of my life. I'm sick of the mindless and dickless drama. If he plays, great, he's going to be terrible. If he doesn't, great too, he can cultivate some weirdo crop that makes Wrangler Jeans. I'm just tired of being jerked around. Whether it be in real life or in my one escape from the daily shit cycle (sports), can someone please be honest and make a fucking decision already. Fuck You, Brett Favre. Best shirt ever. Worst realtor ever. This was a great rant. Lofty rant. Are any of my readers a realtor/over-the-hill quarterback assassin? I'm not saying...I'm just saying. We'll talk. I've got a Danzig CD that you can borrow.

Monday, June 08, 2009

I Make Great Decisions

As I mentioned on Friday, I went back to my hometown for my ten year high school reunion this past weekend. Now, in order to take part in this mediocre event, I had to give up my free clubhouse pass to The Memorial up in Dublin. I had went the past two years so, you know, no big deal. I don't know if you watched any of the final round yesterday, but I will NEVER make that mistake again. I will never be skipping out on this tournament again. Sorry, Golden Bear, please forgive me. I didn't really want to go to the reunion anyway and you punished me for my poor choice with one of the most amazing finishes to a golf tournament that I have seen in my brief time of watching golf on TV. Let me kind of give you a breakdown as far as what I did this weekend compared to what I could have done.

Saturday is usually the day that I would have headed up to Muirfield for a day of sitting on the 17th green, drinking LaBatt's, calling golfers by the wrong name, making my allergies go insane, and develop an awful sunburn. Instead, I helped my future mother-in-law make snacks for the reunion (awful), sat in the basement of an Elks Lodge trying to avoid conversations with half of the people in attendance (challenging), not being able to get drunk due to the extreme shitfacedness that I achieved the night before (frustrating), and, of course, seeing a male stripper perform his craft at Rick's (really, really funny). After the reunion thankfully closed up shop, we made the trek to the lone bar in town and there was a bachelorette party going on (which is very pathetic). All of a sudden, here comes Officer Hardbody or whatever his name was out to completely degrade and humiliate the poor girl. Thankfully, the "officer" kept his sword sheathed but I found this absolutely hilarious. I overheard the bachelorette say later, "he made me rub oil on him and then I had to grind on his cock!" Fantastic. Rick's Sports Bar at it's finest. Oh, and Tiger Woods made his charge in the afternoon while Geoff Ogilvy broke the course record. So far, I can live with missing the golf. Barely. Golden Bearly.

Yesterday started out with a baptism. As I'm walking into the church, the hottest bartender in Columbus (who smartly ditched the reunion) calls and tells me that he has an extra ticket and they will wait for me if I'm already in Lima. Obviously, I have to pass. I sit through the ceremony thinking that I can stump the priest with this doozy: If child birth is considered a miracle then why does God not recognize the child until it is baptized? Huh? Look at me, all philosophical and whatnot. I was given an answer from a friend that seemed plausible but I don't know shit so he could have just said it so that I would stop talking to him. Naptown Wolverine and I could have easily eaten 40 hot chicken sandwiches a piece but maintained. Gluttony is a sin, you know. So I drive back to Columbus and get home right as Tiger is on 12. He's either a shot or two off of a strong leaderboard and at least I can watch the final 90 minutes of the tournament and pray that nothing amazing happens.

Tiger made me pay for my poor decision making by unleashing an insanely awesome finish to win his 4th Memorial title. Dude goes birdie-birdie on the final two holes to win by a stroke over Gentleman Jim Furyk. Come on, man, what Tiger does should be illegal. He is just too good. I live about ten minutes from the tournament site and I bet that if I went outside, I could hear the roars from the gallery. He hit his approach on 18 within 14 inches of the cup...from 183 YARDS! It was like Shaun Micheel's PGA winning shot from a few years ago except that Micheel sucks and Woods is the cat's pajamas. Tiger Woods, fuck the world. And the best part about that shot?

I decided to hang out with people that I don't really care about anymore, watch a male stripper (Damman got the guy's business card, by the way...I am not making that up), and see a baptism instead. Fuck me. Fuck me running. I'm like the white Pacman Jones when it comes to making good decisions. Never again, Tiger. I will never stand you up again. Now if you don't mind, I've got some shotgun swallowing to do.


On June 27th, me and my rabid band of deviants and rabble-rousers (I don't know what that means) are heading up to the vast economic oasis known as Cleveland, Ohio for my bachelor party. I don't care what everyone thinks, I actually like the city. Sure, it has it's issues but...well...those haters are pretty much dead on with their assertions that it is a shithole. But we're heading up there nonetheless. On the docket is the Reds/Indians intrastate showdown at The Jake (not calling it The Prog). The rest of the evening will remain a mystery.

So here is where I am stumped. The promotion for that Saturday night is "Free Money Night". They actually advertise this behind home plate at all Indians home games. Commenter Dut showcased some rare wit by telling me that it is supposed to say "G-Money Night June 27th". And that makes sense. But I did some research on the topic, as did Damman, and I don't think that they were promoting my appearance. Bastards. The website linked above makes it seem like everyone in attendance gets an envelope stuffed with cash when they enter the park. Damman called the ticket office to see what this was about and they said that only certain sections get envelopes of money.

Needless to say, I'm stumped on this one. And very curious about how this will unfold. I am completely down with the idea of my boys and I getting some extra cash for Christie's (like it or not, it's happening). But this is where you guys come in. Every once in awhile, you readers bring the funny. Today, I reward the funniest...in a big way. For the most creative explanation for what "Free Money Night" means, I am awarding a prize. Actually, it's a damn good prize worth about $100.

The Money Shot, with assistance from the fine people over at A&E Home Entertainment, are giving away these DVD's. Impress me and walk away with 14 DVD's of original History Channel programming. Ice Road Truckers, Ax Men, Dangerous Missions, and Tougher In Alaska can all be yours for just one hilarious remark. That's it. Over 37 hours of TV for one sentence. I couldn't make this any easier. You've got until Friday night to be a joke maker. Who said that reading this site was a waste of time?

Good luck to all of you that participate and remember that the dirtier the idea is, the better.

Friday, June 05, 2009

The Boot Heard 'Round The World

Since people keep telling me that I suck this week (I don't really care), I figured that I would end the week with a story so heroic, so monumental, and so epic that you will be shocked that I have yet to write about it. I've always wanted to wait until I could post the video of the event, but I'll never learn how to do that so instead you get a picture of 1983 NFL MVP, Mark Moseley. That's right, a kicker won the MVP that year.

So, normally, tomorrow I would be heading up to Dublin and watching some PGA Tour action at The Memorial. With Tiger coming back this year, it's sort of a big deal around these parts. I've went the previous two years and in year one I got kicked out and last year I could barely stand up due to my love of $8 LaBatt drafts. But I'm bailing on Jack's tournament this weekend to head back to the homeland. I'm not very pumped about it but She$ tells me that I need to go. Tomorrow night, old G$ will be attending his ten year high school reunion. It's a cash bar and we have no entertainment so you can obviously tell that this bitch is going to be a rager. But like I said earlier, it has given me time to hop into the way-back machine and share with you one of the greatest moments in sports history.

I have never tried to hide how much I hated high school football practice. It was the worst thing ever. You know how sometimes veterans come back from war and they just aren't the same that they used to be. Well, and no disrespect to them, having participated in 4 straight years of humid-ass two-a-days in northwest Ohio on fields of dead grass, that was where I became shell-shocked. It was horrible. That is the main reason why I can never understand why people would go watch their teams practice or scrimmage. It just brings back too many awful memories of 200 up-downs and hitting that god damn 7 man sled over and over and over again.

Anyway, you all remember Columbus's Hottest Bartender, right? Well, we developed an excellent gameplan our Sophomore year while we were trying to not be killed by the upperclassmen. Special teams practice occurred right after warming up and trying to be a "wedge buster" against guys that literally were trying to kill you did not seem like a feasible option to us. So, on the fly, we went with the kickers. He couldn't kick for shit so he settled on being my holder. He wasn't even a very good holder, but he was good enough to stick around. I mean, he was a lot better than Tony Romo, amirite!!! I, on the other hand, turned out to be a pretty solid practice kicker. I didn't do that faggy soccer-style shit either. I put on the square-toed boot and Pat Summerall'ed that fucker through the uprights. Three steps and BOOM! I did not have the biggest leg, but I was quite accurate from about 30-35 yards. Not too shabby for the 4th string guard, eh?

So I lasted through the first week of August and thus became firmly entrenched as one of the kickers on the team. I knew that I would never see the field during the game but I didn't give a fuck. The important thing was that I never ever ever had to practice kickoffs or kickoff returns again. And that was all that mattered.

Whatever, though, Reba and I kept working together as the 3rd string kicker/holder combo through our Senior season. My range stayed the same. And why should it improve anyway? I didn't give a fuck. I never worked at it. I barely worked on being a better o-lineman (I was already great though). Hell, I even stopped putting on the square-toe because I was too lazy to change shoes. So to set the scene, my entire Senior year, I practiced field goals with an offensive lineman's cleats. Yet I was surprisingly accurate. You can take all the soccer-style kickers on the planet and make them use their weirdo shoes to kick straight-on and I guarantee that I was more accurate than any of them.

Let me set the scene: it was a chilly November 1998 night inside Charles Buckenmeyer Stadium in Napoleon, Ohio. The Wildcats were set to lock up their first playoff appearance since 1986 with a win over the lowly Swanton Bulldogs. Words can't describe how shitty those guys were. I think we were up 35-0 or something at halftime. I'm not even sure if I played in the second half. We scored another touchdown at some point in the 4th and I was interrupted from my cheerleader orgy by our batshit insane defensive coordinator.

"G$!!! Get in there and make the extra point!"

Oh, fuck and yes. It was on now. The team was already lining up with the normal kicker ready to roll. I'm dead-sprinting to the tee hoping that they don't snap the ball. "RUSSELL (the kicker), GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! I've got this one." So I line up with my left foot next to the tee and take my three steps backwards. I'm pretty sure that our QB/holder was laughing that his starting RIGHT TACKLE was lining up for the extra point. I don't remember if we said anything to each other but I know that my only thought was, "you better get that fucking ball down". The announcer at the stadium (who just so happens to frequent strip clubs on Thursday afternoons) informed the crowd who was on for the PAT attempt. I can still hear all of those fans laughing. How fucking dare they? I'm going to kill them all. I'm a god damn icon! Our really stupid longsnapper shoots the ball back to Dan LeFevour's current bitch...everything is perfect.


Dead solid perfect, motherfucker. It was the definition of "The Money Shot". I kicked that fucker to the moon. EXTRA POINT GOOD. There was no wild celebration from the future blogger. Just two arms raised in the air like I was a fucking referee. This was no fluke. There was no luck involved. I "busted my ass" for three years in practice waiting for that moment and I came through in the clutch. Like I said, I have it on video somewhere but I'm too lazy to dig it up. All I do know is that EVERYONE congratulated me after the game. Not because I made it, no no, but because they didn't know that I could get my leg that high. Sigh. Bastards. I scored ONE point in my high school football career...not bad for an offensive lineman.

Before you make snide comments and try to minimalize the importance of this event, just ask yourself one thing: Have you ever seen (or heard of) a right offensive tackle kicking an extra point with a rounded shoe? No, of course you haven't. That is because I am the only one to achieve this sort of greatness. Damn, I really should have just told this story as a lead in to Memorial Day so you could honor your greatest American hero. Fantastic. Have a good weekend, I'll be seeing some of you at Rally In The Alley tonight. FYI, The Reaganomics are outstanding.