Monday, May 18, 2009

From the Weekend

At the bachelor party, an interesting question arose: if one were a gay male pornstart and there were no male fluffers around, would a female fluffer be sufficient?

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

The Caps

I am not a hockey fan...yet. I can understand, though, the enticement of playoff hockey. The game last night between the Penguins and Capitals was awesome. So, in honor, let me rock the red.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Another Reason to Hate Children

Face transplant recipient: 'I'm not a monster' http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090506/ap_on_he_me/med_face_transplant;_ylt=AjxVIr0AjWwgZ83Wq9D4PTms0NUE;_ylu=X3oDMTFoZm5mbHF2BHBvcwMxNgRzZWMDYWNjb3JkaW9uX3RvcF9zdG9yaWVzBHNsawNmYWNldHJhbnNwbGE-
Once while shopping, she heard a little kid say, `You said there were no real monsters, Mommy, and there's one right there,'" Coffman said. Culp stopped and said, "I'm not a monster. I'm a person who was shot," and pulled out her driver's license to show the child what she used to look like, the psychiatrist said.

What I would give to be able to pull some evil pranks on that kid.

Also: Culp's husband, Thomas, shot her in 2004, then turned the gun on himself. He went to prison for seven years.

Brilliant writing. The guy failed at killing twice...and is rewarded with only seven years. You've got to love terrible shots and the American penal system.

Monday, May 04, 2009

Peter King (verb) to continue a man crush even when said crush is a douchebag

Brett Favre has damaged his reputation with his retirement/unretirement seasonal disorder, but that's one of the perks of being unnaturally skilled at flinging pigskin as well as being a publicity magnet that instantly boosts sales. Yet, the right thing to do right now would be for the American public and for its broadcasters to ignore the crotchity desires of a fading superstar and move on. Of course, one man will continue the Favre man-love...his name is Peter King. (for more non-scientific or rational proof, go to google and search "Peter King loves Favre")

I love Monday Morning Quarterback. Tied with Easterbrook's eminently less readable (and more pretentious) Tuesday Morning Quarterback for length, there's no other printout that I most love to take with on my work day morning coffee/bathroom break. King churns out paragraphs of good reporting, nicely compiled quotes (the staffers who supply him are good), very poor prognostications (his draft preview and his fantasy sleepers are face-slappingly horrid), and fun to read, Joe-Everyman ruminations on travel, coffee, and whatever seems to interest the guy. I'm a big fan...

But the man love for Favre has got to stop. Last year, as Favre did his dance of death and vengence against the Packers, King had Favre's back, breathlessly reporting that Favre's got the right to play anywhere Favre wants. Then, while red hot with the Jets, King had a nice thing to say about Favre for six weeks in a row...no, nice is not the right word...a mash note.

When Favre broke down, King did say that Favre made some bad decisions and was wearing down. He didn't slay him like other media writers, but King was honest with his assessment of Favre's (possibly) final games.

Now, with Favre starting the comeback talks by demanding a release from the Jets, here's what King writes: "I know you're sick of this story. We all are. But my gut feeling is Favre never completely got this Vikings fixation out of his system...If he returns, the dream game of this season won't be Pats-Colts. It'll be Vikings-Packers. Twice." Ugh, seriously, if we are all sick of the story, then why perpetuate it with a drooling tease at the end of your write up? If he plays, that's fine, but to stoke the petering-out fire of Favre-mania in May is just gross. I know that King loves Favre's grit and emotion, but that emotion is also translated into egotism and higher-than-the-team behavior. His act reminds me of the last years of Clemens and Bonds, and though Favre is in no way a cheat and a scoundrel like the two baseballing jerks, he's still bigger than the team and his recklessness cost the Jets a postseason berth and Mangini a job in the Big Apple.

Give it a rest, King. Write about other stuff, like your fascinating breakdown of the Eagles draft. Leave you Tiger Beat-ing for Favre under the bed until at least training camp.

Saturday, May 02, 2009

Recap

Has it really been so long, dear reader, since the last SC post? Let's see what's happened in the intervening time:
  • Work has become more involved and interestingly frustrated. I'm now doing project management while also lead in a group while also working on processes while also troubleshooting while also...ad nauseum. The joy and bane of small businesses: becoming a jack of all trades.
  • I got married. I know, marriage should have gone first, but I was trying to be chronological. ELV and I got married in November. A lovely wedding of weirdness...we had a terrible photographer, a cranky pianist, a nervous weepy groom, and a table full of asians. A good time indeed!
  • We moved into a new apartment in Columbia, MD. What I miss about B-more: the proximity of good food, good friends, and the usual familiarity of home. What I don't miss about B-more: the sirens, the never-ending wail of sirens. It is really peaceful here at the new homestead. Why don't you come on by sometime, we'll fix you up a nice hot plate and show you around the property.
  • We got a huge freaky naughty TV. I love it.
  • I've been getting more and more into sports cards, primarily my fandom of young Hanley Ramirez, shortstop for the Florida Marlins. Funny, being in this region, I should root for the Orioles or the Nats, but seriously, they're both terrible organizations that are trying their best for you not to root for them. The Marlins, however, are a crazy-go-nuts organization that ranges between rebuilding after fire sales to world series champions in four year jags. They've got a fun group of mashers and young arms. Watch, the next two years, a few trades, a few free agent signings, a run for another ring, and then everyone's gone for prospects. It's like slash and burn farming.
  • We got a couch...ELV took four months to pick one out but now we have it and our living room is sit-able. My butt thanks thee.
  • We went on a cruise. It was horrible. I'll make it a stand alone entry, hopefully before I disappear for another year-long stretch.
  • Started a few new blogs, most notably Dave's Lunch, which was started Thursday. It features a picture of my buddy Dave of Noculture/2DF fame eating lunch accompanied by a haiku by yours truly. I hope it evolves into something cool.
Before I get into the sports thing, here's a Lost note. Is anyone else getting kinda sick of the current Lost episode structure of start show with a bang --> boring 35mins--> kinda interesting 5 mins --> last 5 minutes are a breathless rush of information? Take for instance this week's episode featuring Daniel Farraday. The setup, as always, hooks you. The story meanders at that point, mostly a goose chase to finally get Daniel to admit that he's trying to blow up the island. Seriously, my eyes are glued anytime the show's on screen, but at each commercial break, I'm a bit letdown by the pacing within the show. I know as soon as we get to the break around 45 mins into the show, things will get better. And so it is, with the Widmore fathering reveal and the Farraday death sequence. The last parts are always great cliffhangers, but the best episodes, like "the Constant" or "the Other 48 Days" also have satisfactory endings, but the middle part of the episode has a great pacing that keeps the mind enthralls while at the same time pushing the story along. Of course, this could just be grousing...I still love the show.

Also, with Daniel's death, does it really matter? The castaways have the journal and they have the ghost whisperer. Miles can talk to Daniel, though what information Miles can get out of Daniel post-mortem is in doubt. Will Miles even make sense of the over the top stammering sci-fi lingo that spirit Daniel will be spewing?

Ah, no time for the sports thing. I'm out.