I Have a Problem with Photobucket

If you scroll down a little bit you might notice that the third image of "The Sharapowan" was removed. This was the image of a pillow that was a weird shade of yellowish-white with an equally odd discolored nipple that was supposed to be Maria Sharapova's right breast. It was blurred out, albeit rather poorly.

Now, I actually took the time to read Photobucket's disclaimer before signing up. I understand it's their service, they can set whatever rules they want, and that since I'm not paying anything, I can in no way be "damaged." I tried my best to digest the legalese fine print.

I don't have a problem with their decision to remove it. It was such a stupid, asexual thing that it never even crossed my mind that it might violate their terms. I have a problem with their policy itself about nipple nudity of pillows that sort of resemble a woman's bust. This thing hardly looked like a set of tits. There was a big seam right down the middle complete with double-stitching. I've never understood the double standard between male and female toplessness. Go to photobucket, and in the little search box, search for "shirtless man." Here, I've done it for you. Some pretty frightening stuff there.

As far as I know, all human beings are born from women. Most newborns are breast fed for some period of time. Most parts of the world have a never-ending fascination with tits. In fact, the love of big hooters in this country has reached such epic proportions that many men are now growing massive, saggy knockers. It's insane. Some of these man tits are far more offensive than most female nipples and should be kept away from the eyes of children. How anyone can look at some of these tanned, old men with smooth bald pectorals and think that they're not some post-menopausal grandma who's decided, "screw it, I'm going to the topless beach," is beyond me. I have to blow some of these pictures up and look closely. As long as they're wearing pants, I have no idea if they're man tits or women tits because the junk upstairs looks too much alike.

Here's Exhibit A, hosted on photobucket. Here's Exhibit B, not as bad, but still sickening and made worse by the fact that a fat dude is not only shirtless but sitting on a public bench in his boxers. Oh, and it's also on photobucket. Exhibit C may be the most disturbing of any of these, because of the moving breast tissue, nevermind the sex of the nipple. Such flagrant manipulation of breasts would surely get the FCC's panties in a twist. Ditto for the photobucket thing. This man could use some upper-torso support garment of some type....if only there were an episode of Seinfeld that comically covered the issue of men with C-cups who needed support....hmmm.

I could go on and on and on and on (there are a lot of shirtless weirdos on the internet), but frankly, I don't want to look at any more half-nude men. Photobucket can set their own arbitrary rules, but if it's some sort of offensivness or decency reason for the censorship of a picture of a pillow, then I think all these shirtless Billy-Ray Cyrus looking idiots should be censored waaaaayyyy before any woman, let alone a fine looking babe.

Put 'Em Down, Take 'Em Out

No, that's not some Spring Break euphemism to get girls to take their tops off. Although it could be. It's actually the title of my current favorite pamphlet on knife fighting. It's written by a man who learned all the knife fighting techniques you'll ever need to know inside Folsom Prison in the '70s.

Today we'll examine a random selection from Chapter Two which details common knife fighting myths. Honestly, I just like all these goofy old pictures. Dark pants and white shoes? Puh-lease. Hilarious.

Click the image to view it at full size.



Knowledge is power. Now you know!

Have You Seen My Weekend?

I seem to have lost it. It just up and vanished. I slept for about twenty two hours. I spent about three doing all sorts of cleaning - vaccuuming, windows, dusting, the entire bathroom, and to ensure that I have a nice, clean slate upon which to judge the Great Debate '08 Championship Round, I am currently cleaning my coffee maker.

Two parts water, one part vinegar. It smells like death.

After that concoction runs through, I'm supposed to run through one full pot of water to clean it out. Right now I'm planning on running through about four pots of water. It's been a tad warm lately so this is a good time to put the coffee pot in the garage for a tune-up. It has plenty of hard milage ahead as I engross myself in my current film project.

The Sharapowan

I was perusing ESPN's website when I checked out a link about Maria Sharapova winning the Australia Open. I can't read or watch women's tennis without googling some images to see if said tennis players are of the old-school butch type or this new wave of hot eastern Europeans.

That's when I came across this:





It's something called "The Sharapowan" and seems designed for the man who already has it all. Or maybe the man who has nothing but who's main social interaction is with his pillow. Actual cost: hard to say exactly. This is a truly unique, special item. But that man's accountant might say 1700 yen.

If you think you're seeing things in the pic above, let me reconfirm you're not - it is a pillow shaped in the form of foxy tennis player Maria Sharapova's bust. The Sharapowan comes complete with a little training tanktop that can be pulled aside or removed to....I don't know...boost the realistic feel of your perverted fantasy or something. How they even know what Maria Sharapova's nipples look like is a mystery to me. How does one know they're not getting a fake pillow in the shape of Jessica Alba's nipples rather than Maria Sharapova? Anyways, in typical creepy Japanese fashion, this is made to look like their women have no pigment whatsoever. It's a really weird skin tone that looks nothing like Maria Sharapova. Have the makers ever even seen Maria Sharapova, or did they have this bosom-pillow idea in the hopper and just pulled a celebrity name out of a hat?



I'm sure by now you're wondering, "For Christ's sake, WHY???" Me too. Apparently, Ms. Sharapova is quite popular in Japan (where isn't she?) and the weekly magazines run regular spreads of all sorts of papparazzi shots. Not just stuff like her out jogging or walking a dog or coming out of Starbucks, no, they devote entire spreads to stuff like up-skirt shots and down-cleavage. One weird site I found had a ton of close up pictures of her eating a bananna between sets.



I don't get it?

Why Not Shill for Arby's?

I thought about this all day after my post about Arby's delicious Market Fresh Chicken Club Salads. I could use some spare cash, I have this forum, I love meeting new people and chatting with them and I can be very convincing. All the perfect tenements of starting a grassroots campaign to sell people on Arby's Market Fresh Chicken Club Salads.

Being in the insurance business, I've encountered a lot of salespeople. You can spot the really bad ones right away. They have no passion for what they're selling, no knowledge of their product, and they honestly don't care whether or not you buy. It's astonishingly pitiful. These are people who's survival is largely or entirely commission-based, and they're letting prospects walk all over them. They have no sales pitch and they don't compare their product to whatever else the consumer is also considering. Most of the bad ones simply sell on price.

Here's your quote, flip to page 4...that's the price and payment options.
What does this cover? Why do you need it? How is it better, more
thorough than what you have now? You actually want to know that?
Well, uh, yeah, it is my job to point that out for you.
Thanks. I was just about to get to that. Just thought, you know,
maybe you'd want to save a bunch of time for both of us and
skip the sales aspect, the professional analysis, and, you know, go right
to the bottom line so I can walk out of here with my tail between my
legs.

If the product you're selling is quality and valuable, then it's something everyone should want. It should be an easy sell. You should be stunned when people hear you out and don't decide to buy. And when someone does, you should confidently close your briefcase and walk out the door, because they're too dumb to deal business with you.

I know the Arby's product. I enjoy the product as often as possible. I have the passion, and I want to share my extreme satisfaction with their salads with as many people as possible.

McDonald's has done a good job of marketing their healthy alternative menu. I see those commercials every once in awhile. But honestly, until recently, I didn't know Arby's did. I figured they did, most places do nowadays, but I wasn't really aware of them in a concious sort of way. But I am now and I'm ready to pick up that flag and march around with it.

For a price, of course. I'm open to discussing compensation. I don't want to be a cut-throat mercenary, but I could sell another restaurant chain's salads too. I've never tried anyone else's. I just happened to try Arby's first and was extremely pleased, so I'm giving them right of first refusal. Unless McDonald's salads give you AIDS or something, I'd be willing to try them too. And I'm pretty sure lettuce is lettuce, so I can't imagine they're worlds different from Arby's. So let the bidding begin.

Here's a brief outline of my marketing plan:

1. I have this forum and I would promise at least two posts per week about my lunch or dinner at said restaurant chain. The meals would have to be comped, but as long as I'm eating for free, I would be willing to extoll the virtues of other menu items besides just salad. I would prefer to be salad-centric though. I understand that I may have to clean up this blog to keep it more in line with the corporate values of whomever I'm promoting. I don't have a problem with that. I don't need to curse, nor do I need to talk about cameltoe and porn. I can toe the company line and be a team player. I love being a fine, upstanding pillar of my community, just like the values and beliefs of the many fine people at (restaurant chain here).

2. Phase two would be to get my coworkers hooked on the products I'm pushing. We have about 11 people here most days, so taking someone out to lunch or bringing them back a salad or sandwich is no problem. We usually do a group lunch on Fridays and usually go for some independent diner or grill. I am prone to getting lunch and bringing back to eat in my office and many a time will co-workers walk in for another reason and inquire about what I'm eating. Some even smell it from the hallway and ask what I'm having. So there's tremendous sales potential right here in this office.

I'm also the first one to go to lunch everyday, so if I'm back here chowing down around 11:30, filling their nostrils with the inviting scent and arresting aroma of crisp chicken salads or tender grilled chicken croissants just as they're getting ready to leave for lunch, that's golden, man. It's like Pavolov's theory on humans.

Oh, sorry to cut in line at the copier, Tom, Jane and Harry. What's that you ask? Yes, this is my lunch. Oh, yeah, it's good. Damn good. It's the new (insert product name) from (insert whoever's signing my checks). Why am I walking around the office with it, dripping hot, melted cheddar cheese on important documents and sensitive office equipment? Because it's too damn good to put down! I know this guy would just steal it! [point at random co-worker

3. Phase Three is to go to the large, department store I regularly go to (Hint: It rhymes with Pop-Tart and also contains a dash). It's always packed there. I would walk around for a good two hours a week, maybe more, depends on the size of my checks, pretending to shop, but really I'd just rant like Bobby Fischer to everyone I passed about (insert restaurant name here). Only instead of rambling on and on about Jews and how America should die, I would play it off way cooler than Bobby Fischer and just talk about grilled burgers. Really love burgers? They make a killer double burger. Did you know you can get them with mushrooms and onions? Don't like grilled burgers? That's cool. They have chicken sandwiches to die for. And, you can get the chicken grilled or crispy. On a health kick? They have a whole side menu of healthy alternative sandwiches on whole grain bread. Dude, you've got to try the Rueben.

I have other methods, but I don't want to divulge everything in my arsenal. Some are also dirty tricks, which I'm not sure if you're okay with me using. Nothing too over the line. I'll just dress up really homely and go sit in your competitors place, ordering the bare minimum to keep me from getting thrown out and yawning really loudly, pretending to sleep in their complementary newspapers and faking a wet, hacking cough that may or may not be contaigious. People will so be out of there. And after they see me lingering around often enough and pretending to cough up enough phlegm, they'll start to try other places.

Contact me to open a dialogue at a_magician_named_gob@yahoo.ca. I live in the St. Louis-Metro area and would spend most of my time working on the Illinois side of the area, although I do go to Blues and Cardinal games a bit and would be willing to make pushing salads and sandwiches and whatever else you sell a 24 hour second job. National chain eateries in the immediate region include: Arby's, McDonald's, Burger King, Taco Bell, Rally's, Subway, Dairy Queen, Pizza Hut, Imo's, Domino's, Pancake Ranch (think they're national - not sure) and Kentucky Fried Chicken. If you compete with any of them and want to bury them in the area, look me up and we'll talk turkey.

P.S. - I LOVE turkey. But I'd LOVE to tell people about your turkey products more.

Lunchtime? Hell Yeah.

I've been working my way back onto my toast and coffee diet. It's fun for awhile subsisting on stale, burnt bread, that artificial butter spray (0 calories) and pot after pot of coffee, but believe it or not, you can actually burn yourself out on that. Hard to believe, I know.

So I try to incorporate equally bland and calorically weak foods - cream of wheat, vanilla wafers, handful o' dirt, etc.... but lunchtime is difficult. Why? Because I want to get out of my office for at least a couple of minutes. And I really want food, real food.

Now, my love affair with Arby's is well-publicized. But as you may or may not know, I had to break it off with them because all those roast beef and chicken-bacon-swiss sandwiches didn't have my best interests in mind. It was painfull, but I got through it with only a few booty calls. It was during one such snap, irrational decisions to drive-thru the other day that I was ordering my #7 (Chicken-Bacon-Swiss, curly fries, bottle of water) and I adventured away from my norm and ordered a chicken club salad. What a delicious contraption.



Although it never looks quite like that. It does have all the same ingredients, it's just not mixed up as well. And it's less than my regular #7 by about a buck ($5.32 with tax). I'm normally skeptical about going to a fast food joint - any one - whose reputation is for burgers, or fries, or chicken or roast beef, whatever, and ordeirng a salad. It doesn't seem rational. But this Market Fresh Chicken Club salad has been a breath of fresh air. I've had three in the last four days and it doesn't totally foul up my toast-coffee regiment.

Arby's....Get Yours Today! or...I'm Thinking ARBY's....whatever their slogan is. Just heed it, once. At least to try this salad.

Disclaimer: I am not compensated in any way by the good, GOOD folks at Arby's....but I'm willing to be. HINT, HINT.

Belated Weekly Statistics

Forgot to post my stats the other night when I was railing on Brett Favre.

Date.....Miles.....Calories......Time.....Excuse

1/13.....1.03.....20.3.....3:20.....Would you believe Vertigo?

1/15.....18.33.....368.....58.33.....Knees were killing me, only reason I didn't power through to 1 hour

1/16....2.50....49.1.....8:00.....I had a touch of Yellow Fever. Hand to God. And I don't mean Asians.

1/17.....31.27.....632.2.....1:37:58.....WOO-Muthafuckin'-HOO. This was more like it.

1/19....1.5......160......about 20:00.....I ran this night b/c I wasn't near my bike, even though I was still kind of hurtin' from the long, long bike ride.

Weekly Totals

54.63.....2229.6.....3:07:51

Slacked off way too much last week. Three hours a week isn't going to cut it. Need to be in the 4-5 hour range minimally. The ridiculous cold snap had something to do with it. If it gets too cold, like it was, I just go home after work and hibernate. Like bears do.

Before I forget, I sort of thought I was hard on old Brett Favre in my post Sunday night. I thought I might've overreacted. Just when I was starting to feel sorry for ole' Brett, Bill Simmons pretty much reconfirmed everything I originally thought watching him crap that game away. Simmons even drops the G-word.

Gunslinger is Football Lingo for "Dope"

I hate the word gunslinger when used to describe quarterbacks. Pundits use it as some sort of compliment. It's their way of claiming a QB is fearless, has unbelievable arm strength and/or touch on their passes. Balls the size of grapefruit. Ice water in the veins. Nerves of steel. The term has been used to describe Brett Favre for some time now. More recently, it's been used to describe yokels such as Tony Homo, Carson Palmer and Matt Hasselbeck, among others.

Please note that none of those four quarterbacks have won a Super Bowl since 1996. Palmer has made the playoffs once in his six year career now. Homo Romo has been hot shit in the regular season the last two years, only to morph into playoff scapegoat both times. And Matt Hasselbeck's trip to the big dance two years ago can be attributed to being part of a superior team. In his NFL service time prior to and since that season he's never been better than moderatly above average.

Which brings me back to Favre. A medly of impatience, overconfidence and either stupidity or arrogance on his part just killed the Packers season and a possible storybook ending to Favre's career. After one half of taking just one shot downfield, Favre came out in the second half determined to make a difference, even if it meant taking the Pack's future squarely on his shoulders. A horrible pass deep downfield into triple coverage should have been a precursor for Mike McCarthy to reel in his living legend QB a bit.

He either didn't, or couldn't, get through to Favre and despite the Giants attempts to give the game to the Pack, Brett Favre tried just a little harder to give the game back to New York. Trying to throw a deep out to Donald Driver in overtime, Favre got nothing on the pass and was an easy interception. New York kicker Lawrence Tynes, after missing a field goal at the end of regulation, was true on a 47-yard attempt to send New York to Arizona for the Super Bowl.

So wrapping up my original thesis, being a gunslinger is, more often than not, NOT a good quality or label to have as a quarterback. Peyton Manning and Tom Brady, the two best QBs around nowadays, play within their systems. They don't merely "manage the game," a label used to describe timid or unskilled quarterbacks. Those two still take their shots, but you'll never see them eskewing common sense and years of experience to heave-ho a ball into double or triple coverage or throwing across the field, or throwing off balance. Even Eli Manning has displayed confidence and restraint in QB'ing the G-Men to the title game.

As for the Super Bowl, there are a number of interesting story lines. New York and New England get a rematch of that epic week 17 duel. It was that game that gave New York their current confidence that set them on this path to begin with. They also tested the Patriots better than anyone other than the Colts in week 11. It's another chance for the East Coast media to turn this into a New York-Boston thing like they do with baseball.

If that was Favre's last throw, it's one he'll regret forever. For the record, he's said he wants to return. We'll see if he changes his mind this offseason. Green Bay is still very young and should return an awfully similar team to the one that plowed through the NFC all year long. If Favre does return, I hope he learns a lesson that for most of this year he seemed to be grasping, the Dallas game being the one exception that comes to mind. He could benefit from learning that lesson, the Pack would definitely benefit, and an entire nation of armchair quarterbacks and faux football experts could learn a thing or two. Along with killing the Packers year, here's hoping it kills America's undying love affair with wreckless, irresponsible quarterback play.

I'm Booking My Trip to the 2009 Miss Illinois Competition

I'm, oh, twenty minutes into the Miss Illinois pageant DVD, and one third of my self-annointed "Tri-Perfecta," Ashley Coffman, has already taken her stroll in the swimsuit portion of the preliminary competition. I don't remember if I noticed at the time, but I know what put her over the top for winning that individual achievement award in the swimsuit competition: she had massive cameltoe, accentuated all the more by the stunning white bikini she was wearing. I have to get a screenshot of this. Stay tuned, you can't miss this.

Professional Association of Idiots

I'm watching the Professional Bull Riders Association on NBC right now. This is some fine unintentional comedy. First off, I'm perplexed about what defines the difference between a professional and an amateur bull rider exactly? I've got a feeling they're all a lot of dumb southerners who got bored with bar fights and motocross or sprint car racing on Saturday nights.

Watching this reminds me of an episode of House in season two. Wilson is split up with his wife and is living with Greg. While perusing his Tivo, he asks House why he has a season pass to New Yankee Workshop, to which House replies something like, "a total moron working with powertools is high drama to me."

Ditto that for bull riding. It's not a matter of if someone gets seriously injured because of pure stupidity, it's a matter of when. I've been watching this for about four minutes and there have been three riders. The first guy got whiplashed around and smacked his bare face right on the bull's forehead. I'd be amazed if his jaw wasn't broken. At the very least he has to have a wicked concussion. The second guy got whipped off and the bull stomped on his leg. The third guy looked like he hyperextended his elbow. Three idiots up, three idiots down.

I love the profiles they have. In addition to profiling the riders, they have profiles (including pictures) of the bulls!!

Listening to interviews with bull riders is good too. These are obviously guys who liked physical sports, but were too dumb to memorize their high school football team playbooks and couldn't make the team. From that they probably moved onto underage drinking and starting fights outside of seedy roadhouses. Then they tried monster trucks but probably couldn't afford them. Somehow they wound up drinking with their buddy Jeb or Skeeter and somene "reckoned" they couldn't ride that there bull. Half of these guys look like they're missing a chromosome or something. They've either got eyes real far apart, or really big brow ridges in their skulls or horrible teeth....they're probably first cousins with Sasquatch or something. They just look really unevolved, like something I saw in an anthropology textbook. But there are a lot or relatively normal looking ones too; I can't help but wonder what's wrong with them that they chose bull rider as a career? There has to be something right? Are these attention whores too dumb or boring for a nice, safe reality-tv show?

Random question: why do some of them bother wearing their big dumb cowboy hats for their ride? The hat comes off in about 0.02 seconds and then you just have dirt and bullshit on your favorite ridiculous hat. Maybe they're into that....I don't know.

I also don't know how this is considered a "competition." Man versus bull is no more an actual competition than man versus gravity. There's no chance of winning - the definition of "winning" in this "competition" is who can stay on the longest. There's absolutely zero chance that someone is going to ride the bull out until it gets tired and stops thrashing around. I don't get it. What's the point? Why don't dumb people jump out of planes and see which one can stay in the air the longest? There's also a zero percent chance of "winning" against gravity. If the definition of a win is who can go the longest before an inevitable crushing at the unrelenting mercy of a superior, untamable force, then why aren't more rednecks skydiving without parachutes?

Even the guys who hold on the the longest limp off with some sort of injury. I understand playing contact sports because even with the chance of injury, you're still getting a workout. Bull riding lasts 8 seconds if you're really good. Why not have a professional "sport" where a bunch of hillbillys see who can stand upright and take the most punches from Mike Tyson? No workout, no chance of winning, considerable risk of significant injury....it has it all!

Alright, I've been watching this for twenty minutes and have seen more than my share of bull penis. I'm going back to watching the dvd of the Miss Illinois USA 2008 Pageant which I got my mitts on this morning. Seeing as how I was in a state of awe (and sometimes drunk or sleep-deprived) and barely remember the whole pageant, watching the dvd is a good refresher.

Diary of a Cat

Day 381

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while forcing me to eat some sort of dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.


~Whiskers


Day 432

Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking nearly succeeded. Note to self: remember to try that at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors into granting me my release, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair. I must remember to do this on their beds.

~Whiskers


Day 610

Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night. They act like this doesn't affect them, but their slumped shoulders and general malaise the next day says otherwise.

~Whiskers

Word Up, Suckas!

You're probably asking why am I still up at 12:02am on a worknight? Bill, won't that totally wreck your schedule for the rest of the week? What's wrong with you?

Absolutely nothing!

Well, probably something, but nothing major. At least that I know of. I got some pressure to finish that movie about the Miss Illinois Pageant over the weekend, so I sifted through my raw footage tonight (yesterday) to see what I had to work with. I ended up getting engrossed and made this little trailer.



I'm stoked. Bill Spielberg is back, baby!

Great Debate '08: The Final Four

The Final Four

(2) Irish Creme vs. (12) Amaretto
I like Irish Creme, I really do. It has a simple understated quality about it. It's not too flashy, not too uppity for a cup of coffee. It's a great team player, sticking to it's role of subtly enhancing the cup of coffee without going on a power trip and hijacking the taste. It has a blue-collar workman-like taste to it. Cup after cup, no matter what your fancy, it's consistently good. And therein lies its shortcoming. Consistently great, but never extraordinary. If these two were hockey players, Irish Creme would be vintage Cam Neely or Jeremy Roenick while Amaretto would be Pavel Bure.

Amaretto has that "wow" factor to it. You take a sip and your eyes pop. However, I can see myself having a short shelf life with Amaretto. Using the Bure comparison, that sweet, smooth taste seems great for awhile - like when Pavel was scoring 65 goals a year, most of the highlight film variety. It was fresh and exciting and always had you on the edge of your seat. But eventually, you start to sour on it. You find the dents in the armor. You're drinking a cup of coffee one day and realize that Pavel doesn't play defense, is a moody with teammates, and wants outrageous money considering he's a one-dimensional player.

Meanwhile, there's Cam Neely or Jeremy Roenick, just doing whatever the team needs to win night in and night out. Whether it's blocking a shot, sparking the team with a fight, leveling a guy who took a run at a teammate, scoring a big goal, making a selfless pass, killing penaties, etc... They just find a way to get the job done. Personal achievements be damned; the team and winning is all that matters.

This is the dilemma I find myself having with Irish Creme and Amaretto. Obviously, my seeding of Amaretto was a mistake, but that's history. The competition provided a level playing field and the best and most deserving creamers have come forward. This match up is a paradigmatic philosophical debate. Do I allow myself to become seduced by the exotic beauty and pazzazz of Amaretto, knowing it is inevitable that the shine will come off of its star? Or do I opt for the safety and relative comfort of a creamer that will always be there for me, slugging it out to keep my taste buds happy? Sure Irish Creme may be more "boring," but if it's the best all-around, most everlasting representative I'm after, I know deep down inside that beauty often seduces us on the road to truth.

But still....

The contrast in styles is stark. When I started writing this little soliloquy, I was prepared to crown Amaretto victor in yet another major upset. But it seems almost un-American to reward a hotshot, flash-in-the-pan creamer, over a hardworking, diligent, team-player-type counterpart, even if it's upside is limited. This country was founded on the principle that if you work hard, you can achieve anything. It's called the American Dream. It's a shame that the collective mindset is moving in the other direction thanks to all the television shows and gossip rags that entice people into get-rich-quick mentalities, flaunting their excesses and shirking values and principles in favor of chasing material possessions. If I meet one more wanna-be actor or actress, or someone who's dropping out of school to move to California, I'm going to puke.

Well this has turned into a weird little rant. I'm taking a stand. Irish Creme wins this round. Score one for the working stiffs who like their coffee just moderately enchanced without some fruity sweet taste.

(1) Peppermint Mocha vs. (4) French Vanilla
Everything I said about the previous match up can be said about these two as well. Here is, yet again, another stark contrast in styles. French Vanilla stands in for Irish Creme in the consistently great, never other-worldly combatant, while Peppermint Mocha doubles for Amaretto as the boom-or-bust, knock your socks off type of creamer. Each have their pros and their cons and it's hard to make an argument that one is truly better than the other.

Like in sports, there are two schools of thought. One segment of people believe that defense wins championships, while others believe that a good offense is the best defense. Again, no case can be made that effectively trumps the other point of view. Teams have won with a grind it out, keep it close until the end motif, while plenty others have won with a run-n-gun approach.

French Vanilla is a fine, fine candidate for President of Coffee Creamers. I have no doubt that it would've carried itself with the honor and dignity that such a position requires. However, Peppermint Mocha is just a little bit better. We are truly blessed to have such a deep and talented field of creamers from which to choose.

And with that said, I declare the winner of this match up to be Peppermint Mocha.

See you in the finals.

Keep the Pedals Spinnin' and the Beavers Grinnin'

My favorite line from Smokey and The Bandit is when Bandit tells Snowman before starting off to smuggle all that beer to just, "keep the wheels spinnin' and the beavers grinning." Pat and I quote each other that line all the time, it's so stupid and nonsensical.

That line just reminded me something about that movie. Towards the end, I think they're crossing back into Georgia or whatever state their destination is in, there's a cop on a motorcycle that briefly chases The Bandit. If you look real closely, I swear you can see a For Sale sign in the windshield of the motorcycle. There's some sort of orange, white and black sign in the little windshield and it looks exactly like one of those signs. Pat spotted it and we laughed for a good twenty minutes that something like that would get left in. We figure they had to redo the scene a few times and kept wrecking bikes, so they bought a bunch of cheapies just to wreck and, 'lo and behold, one with a For Sale sign was in one of the takes and no one noticed. If you check that imdb link above, and go to the Goofs page, you'll notice this thing is wrought with errors, but we might've been the first to spot the For Sale sign.

I've been hitting the bike pretty hard since the calendar turned, but I've decided to reduce it all to one weekly update rather than post the minutia daily. Actually, I'm only doing it so I don't have to sift through Google for so many pictures of people on bikes. Here's this weeks stats:

Date....Miles....Calories....Time

1-7....11.94....232....37:08

1-8....21.53...421....1:05:14

1-9....14.77....290....45:20

1-10....18.90....372....1:01:02

1-12....15.02....346....47:05

Total: 82.16....1661....4:15:49

Not bad considering this is the first week I started "gettin' after it." The first four days I just worked on learning how to focus so I could stay on the seat for an hour without getting bored and giving up. Then, yesterday, I started ratcheting up the intensity a bit. $10 says Einstein couldn't busted his ass like that.

I'm keeping three separate calendars; one I record my weight on each morning, one I record what I ate and drank during each day, and the third I keep track of what exercise I did. That's the only way this is going to work is if I stay on top of myself and inject some accountability for slacking off. So far, so good.

Captain Graybeard Turns 50

Today's is the old man's 50th birthday, so as a cheap present, I figured I'd watch The Last of the Mohicans with him. He's an outdoors/old-school mountain-man type, and he's been bugging me to watch that movie for about two years, at least once every other week, usually weekly. I finally caved. It was alright. I'd give it a 7 to 7.5 on a scale of 10. I hate the romantic scenes. If they'd just stuck to the history of the French-Indian War, the plotting, deal-making, battles, etc... it would've been a full point higher. Michael Mann can be awfully hit-or-miss like that. This wasn't a miss, but I wouldn't call it a hit either. I liked the bloodthirsty Huron warrior Magua. He's insanely violent, but suprisingly calculating as well.

Now I'm watching the Pack roll over the Chickenhawks of Seattle. Halftime score: Green Bay 28, Seattle 17. Shaun Alexander has six carries for six yards, one catch for four yards, and a score. I'm monitoring this Seattle running back situation closely. Alexander is running around with a fork in his back - he's done - and their backup is the painfully ordinary Maurice Morris. He's not too big, not too small, not too fast, not too slow, not a good receiver, not a bad receiver....he's just....blah. The whole backfield of the NFC West champs appears to have been swallowed by one of those rogue black holes floating around.

Anyways, at a time when I would normally turn my attention to the NHL's second half charge and playoff action, I find myself unusually transfixed on the NFL and the draft. The Senior Bowl is still weeks away. The Scouting Combine is still three months off or so. And the draft is almost a full four months from now. But I'm insanely focused on improving my Illinois Transients, the keepers league I'm in. I hold the third overall pick of the supplemental draft.

Rashard Mendenhall, Big Ten Offensive Player of the year, formally declared for the draft on Thursday. Darren McFadden reportedly soon will. Rutger's tailback Ray Rice already did. Ditto for Oregon's Jonathan Stewart. Same as Central Florida's Kevin Smith. And West Virginia's Steve Slaton could join the parade of junior running backs declaring for the draft soon. This bumps Michigan's Mike Hart, one of the top seniors, considerably down the draft board. One of the few non-RB's I'd consider with my #3 pick would be OU wideout Malcom Kelly, who also just declared early.

Anyways, this Seattle backfield is a mess. As a Rams fan (there, I admit it) it's great theatre. Their line isn't what it was a few years ago with Steve Hutchison gone and Walter Jones in decline, but it's still solid. They've got a saavy veteran QB and good receiving weapons. They've got a pretty good head coach. Good defense and special teams. It seems like enough pieces will still be in place over the next few years to make a decent back on that team a very ownable fantasy asset. And it doesn't really matter who goes there - Mendenhall and Stewart are the concensus picks in mock drafts - because it's the environment and situation that makes the player attractive. My only concern would be that Alexander would still be around and may be utilized as a short-yardage back who pilfers TDs.

That's a pretty minor concern though, because I don't think he wants that role. I suspect he'd just prefer a change of scenery if he gets reduced to that. And I don't fear him having enough success in such a reduced role, as a change-of-pace type back, to pilfer too much playing time because, like I said, he's D-U-N done at this point. Injury prone. No burst. Pricey on the salary cap. Lousy average per carry. Here are his career stats:

Year...Games...Started...Attempts...Yards...TDs...Average...Long Run
2007...13...10...207...716...4...3.5...25
2006...10...10...252...896...7...3.6...33
2005...16...16...370...1880...27...5.1...88
2004...16...16...353...1696...16...4.8...44
2003...16...15...326...1435...14...4.4...55
2002...16...16...295...1175...16...4.0...58
2001...16...12...309...1318...14...4.3...88
2000...16...1...64...313...2...4.9...50

The shelf life of running backs is awfully short as is, and clearly, Shaun Alexander's better days are behind him. It's hard to imagine Seattle going into next year with with Alexander on top of the depth chart and no one to at least seriously challenge him. Something's got to give here.

Today's Top Signs of the Apocalypse

1. Russian Beheads Friends for Trying to Eat His Dog
MOSCOW - A Russian man has confessed to killing two friends with an axe after returning home to find them cutting up and preparing to eat his favourite dog, prosecutors said in a statement on Wednesday.

"Flying into a rage, the dog's owner picked up an axe from the floor and cut off the heads of the uninvited guests," prosecutors in the Siberian region of Chita said in a statement.

The 40-year-old man then called the police and confessed to the killing last month, prosecutors said. Police arrested him and a murder inquiry has begun.

It was unclear why his acquaintances wanted to eat the dog.

2. Will Smith Boosting Scientology
Will Smith has joined the ranks of Hollywood power players actively recruiting for the Church of Scientology.

Big stars traditionally distribute "wrap presents" to crew members after completing a film. His recent gift after wrapping next summer's comedy "Hancock" was a card good for a personality test at your local Scientology center.

Fun! Never mind that such tests are given free by the church anyway. The quiz is designed to convert people to the religion by identifying personality flaws that - surprise! - Scientology can fix right up for you. For a fee, of course.

Smith, who is best buddies with Scientology booster Tom Cruise, has never confirmed that he joined the church. But he told "Access Hollywood" last month: "I was introduced to it by Tom, and I'm a student of world religion. I was raised in a Baptist household. I went to a Catholic school, but the ideas of the Bible are 98% the same ideas of Scientology, 98% the same ideas of Hinduism and Buddhism."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
(Note: For reference, homo sapiens are also over 94% genetically similar to chimpanzees. Moral of the story: every fraction of a percentage matters.)

3. Pair Bring Corpse to Store to Cash Check
NEW YORK -- Two men wheeled a dead man through the streets in an office chair to a check-cashing store and tried to cash his Social Security check before being arrested on fraud charges, police said.

David J. Dalaia and James O'Hare pushed Virgilio Cintron's body from the Manhattan apartment that O'Hare and Cintron shared to Pay-O-Matic, about a block away, spokesman Paul Browne said witnesses told police.

The witnesses saw the two pushing the chair with Cintron flopping from side to side and the two individuals propping him up and keeping him from flopping from side to side. The men left Cintron's body outside the store, went inside and tried to cash his $355 check, Browne said. The store's clerk, who knew Cintron, asked the men where he was, and O'Hare told the clerk they would go and get him.

A police detective having lunch at a neighboring diner noticed a crowd forming around the body, and it was immediately apparent the man was dead. He then called uniformed police officers. Emergency medical technicians arrived as O'Hare and Dalaia were preparing to wheel Cintron's body into the check-cashing store, Browne said. Police arrested Dalaia and O'Hare there, he said.

Cintron's body was taken to a hospital morgue. The medical examiner's office told police it appeared Cintron, 66, had died of natural causes within the previous 24 hours.

4. Magical Stationery Bike Puts Weight On Those Riding It
BETHALTO - I rode for 1 hour, five minutes and 14 seconds on my bike last night, almost 22 miles, didn't eat much of anything, and I gained a pound.

Great Debate 2008: The Quarterfinals

The History of Coffee

There are many legends about the discovery of coffee. One of the oldest tells of a young goatherd in Ethiopia around 850 AD. He had noticed that after eating a certain kind of berry, his goats would become particularly lively. Monks then tried the fruit but were so disappointed by the bitter flavor that they threw it into their fire. Soon, a delicious aroma was wafting around their nostrils. The monks became curious and they used the roasted nuts to create a brew which they saw as a gift from God because it helped them stay awake half the night.

Another legend relates how the Archangel Gabriel brought a dish of dark elixir to the prophet Mohammed, who lay dying. He promptly rose, killed 40 warriors and then made love to a similar amount of women. A potent brew indeed! Thanks to the divine power it gave him, he went on to create a great Islamic empire. In Arabia, coffee was soon known far and wide as the "wine of Islam," first mentioned in a celebrated Arabic manuscript of 1587.

The truth about the origins of coffee are difficult to pin down. Historians say coffee did indeed originate in the Kaffa mountains of Ethiopia. The first written record of coffee originates from 9th century Persian medical documents. Then in the 11th century, Avicenna, the famed doctor and philosopher wrote of its effects on the human digestive system. It was the Arabs who in the early 16th century first roasted the coffee bean and created the delicious dark beverage that is now enjoyed all over the world by humans, several breeds of elegant canines and even by many alien cultures.

By the end of the 16th century, news of coffee had reached the trading centers of Italy. Full scale importing of coffee from north Africa began in the 1600's and by the end of that century Europeans managed to obtain coffee plants to grow themselves and break the Arab monopoly on the coffee trade. This had a devastating impact on the Middle East. Arabs were reduced to holding a monopoly on only camels until the discovery of oil several hundred years later.

In the late 18th century, the era of revolutions and guillotines, coffee had become a great institution. Men gathered in cafes across Europe to shirk working actual jobs, discuss philosophy and plan to overthrow tyranny. Meanwhile, the popularity of coffee led to one of the darkest chapters in world history, the slave trade. The powers of Europe enslaved hundreds of thousands of Africans to work the coffee plantations of the new world and feed the new obsession for this most miraculous of drinks. It wasn't until William Procter, a candlemaker, and James Gamble, a soapmaker, formed the company known as Procter & Gamble in 1837 and released the first electric coffee maker that slaves were freed from their coffee bean duties and diverted to other tasks such as picking cotton and playing dice. The two men, immigrants from England and Ireland respectively, who had settled earlier in Cincinnati might never have met, had they not married sisters, Olivia and Elizabeth Norris. Their invention of the coffee pot has stood throughout history as one of the landmark inventions of the modern world.

Today, coffee is the most valuable agricultural resource on earth, even more profitable than sugarcane, wheat and cannabis. The coffee trade is worth an estimated $15 billion (US) per year. Coffee is grown in 75 countries on 4 continents. 1.4 billion cups of coffee are drunk every day, and 2 out of 3 people in the world enjoy coffee. In some northern European countries the consumption figure tops 94%. Proctor & Gamble have continued to stay on the cutting edge of coffee brewing. Aside from the coffee pot, their invention of the little wooden barrel around the neck of a St. Bernard who wanders snowy mountainous terrains offering weary travelers a warm beverage was recently voted the #6 coffee innovation of all time by Warm Beverage Monthly magazine readers, right behind artificial sugar and just ahead of Styrofoam cups.

The Great Debate 2008 - Quarterfinals

(1) Peppermint Mocha vs. (8) Cinnamon Vanilla Creme

It was a nice little run while it lasted for Cinnamon Vanilla, but P-Moc was just too much to handle. This was a blowout, Cinnamon Vanilla was in trouble right from the get-go. Thanks for coming.

(6) Creme Brulee vs. (4) French Vanilla

Another painful mismatch. Creme Brulee failed to put it's best foot forward and the consistent, steady flavor of French Vanilla wore them down and came away with a dilligent victory.

(3) Vanilla Caramel vs. (12) Amaretto Creme

Score one for the underdog! The Cindarella Amareto Creme continued their storybook roll by knocking off the favored Vanilla Caramel in convincing fashion. Vanilla Caramel had it's moments but could never find a rhythm, and became the highest-seeded creamer to fall in the the bracket thus far.

(10) Blueberry Cobbler vs. (2) Irish Creme

Blueberry Cobbler was a scrappy little participant who gave this competition everything it had, but it was simply overmatched against the smooth, minty freshness of Irish Creme. Irish Creme "poured it on" Blueberry Cobbler, getting it out of it's gameplan and forcing it into a style it was not equipped for. Irish Creme seems poised for a run to the Championship match as, on paper, they have the easiest matchup of the Final Four. Irish Creme draws the upstart Amaretto Creme in the Final Four.

Great Debate '08 - Semifinals

Like the recent Iowa caucuses, my Presidental process is moving right along. However, unlike this recent political checkpoint, my faux-election comes at considerably less expense to the American taxpayer. And now, it comes with 100% more bracket!!

Download or print your copy here.



Here's how things have sussed out so far:


ROUND 1 - SEMIFINALS

Peppermint Mocha vs. Pralines & Creme
Pralines are horrible and Peppermint is a juggernaut superpower.


Cinnamon Vanilla Creme vs. Gingerbread
Not crazy about either of these. Cinnamon Vanilla was pretty strong, but it's a nice complement in smaller amounts.


Creme Brulee vs. Coconut Creme
In my original post about "The Debate", I noted how I hated everything with coconut in it. Recently, while standing in the hard liquor aisle of a local Schnucks, I realized the one little anomaly in my burning hatred for all things coconut is rum - Malibu Coconut Rum is still my favorite rum. I'm not that crazy about it, but I've had some wicked times on Coconut Rum. Just thought I'd mention that blip in my coconut discrimination. Creme Brulee was pretty....what's the word...."yuck" seems about right, but Coconut Creme made me want to retch.


French Vanilla vs. Eggnog
Confession: I was too scared to buy Eggnog creamer. I look at that thick, creamy looking stuff and get a weird taste in my mouth. I imagine eating raw pancake batter, puke, and a vat of butter you see on a tour of an Amish settlement when I think about Eggnog. Also, by this point I'd already wasted $4 on a bottle of that Pralines shit, and I wasn't about to waste another $4. There's no way it could've been better than French Vanilla anyway.


Vanilla Caramel vs. Toffee Nut
Vanilla Caramel was a disappointment. I had high, high hopes for it, hence the lofty #3 seeding. It was solid in smaller amounts, but I tried to use equal amounts of creamer in all cups of coffee for a level playing field and fair judging. Under that criteria, I was underwhelmed. But Toffee Nut was too bland. Toffee is a bitter taste, and I'm a well-known sweettooth.


Chocolate Raspberry vs. Amaretto Creme
UPSET ALERT!! Just like March Madness, beware of those #5 vs. #12 matchups - they always produce an upset or two. This was no contest. I was warned Chocolate Raspberry would suck and boy, did it. The chocolate did not go with coffee at all. It was thick like chocolate milk and did not mesh well even with Raspberry, let alone coffee. Just a total mismashed amalgamation. I didn't know what Amaretto was before, but I found out its has a sweet taste and is made from almonds and sometimes apricots. It was delicious. I thought I detected a mild cherry flavor as well, but I could have been hallucinating. This Amaretto Creme is a major dark horse in this tournament - it's going to make some noise in the following rounds.


Hazelnut vs. Blueberry Cobbler
UPSET ALERT #2! I was seriously disappointed by most of the nut-based creamers in the field. Pralines, Toffee, and Hazelnut were all very bitter and added nothing to the coffee. I pretty much knew the first two would suck, but I had high hopes for Hazelnut. Blueberry Cobbler wasn't great, but provided a pleasant aftertaste. I could see myself occasionally buying it for a change of pace creamer.


Irish Creme vs. Pumpkin Spice
I guess pumpkin is my new coconut. Whereas I found one thing with coconut in it that I like, I am still unable to find anything made with or related to pumpkins that has any redeeming value. It's not a good creamer, candles made with it stink, I don't like pumpkin pie, I couldn't imagine using pumpking lotion or body wash, and even actual pumpkins suck - they wind up rotting on your porch or windowsil and those disgusting guts just slime everything up. I suppose an arguement could be made that I like the Smashing Pumpkins, but if you read their liner notes, they don't actually use any real pumpkins - they're made out of 100% people meat. Irish Creme kicked Pumpkin Spice's ass.

Tune Up The NY Media Machine

Baby Eli is growing up!

Gummo Manning led his NY G-Men past the offensively-impaired Tampa Bay Bucanneers earlier today. I'm happy. I like Eli - I sympathize with him the way I feel bad for retarded kids and dogs in those little rear-end wheelchairs or giant cones. But then again, I understand that he'll never be his brother; that he doesn't have the "it" factor. I'm willing to embrace him for what he is: a good, but not great, quarterback. I outlined my position on Eli back in the preseason in this post and tried to handicap a fight between him and former teammate Tiki Barber.

Too bad he plays under the microscope in New York. It took Peyton four tries to win his first playoff game, and that took six years. Now, the Giants were in better shape when Eli arrived than Indy was when Peyton was drafted, but it took Eli three tries and four years to get post-season win #1 under his belt. I'm sure he'll go from scapegoat to hero in the the Big Apple faster than it takes Derek Jeter to find his next "date." Unfortunately for Eli, they play the Cowboys next week. After Dallas crushes them (I say the line will open at DAL -10.5), I'm sure everyone will go right back to bludgeoning him in the press.

Still, kudos to Eli. You managed not to shoot your team in the foot for once. And, bonus, you got to knock one of the Barber twins out of the playoffs. Suck it Ronde - get a man's name!! And, Eli, enjoy the praise while it lasts - you'll still be put through the ringer in New York until you win your first Super Bowl, which isn't happening for at least another year.

The Church of the SubGenius

My plumbing is fixed, my mystery pinched nerve/disc in my back is feeling light years better and with fantasy football season over, I'm in search of a new hobby to occupy my time. I still have that whole Great Debate '08 going on (update forthcoming), but I'm playing out the bracket and it'll be over fairly soon. NFL playoffs are still going on, but that's not a full-time hobby. I could work more over the weekends to, like, get ahead or whatever, but it's awfully early in the year to start being an overachiever. We're still months away from the NHL playoffs, so that's out. I have been downloading a bunch of e-books, but I'm not in a reading mood and it's not that cool to talk about Macaulay's Method, Lie groupoids and Representation Theory at parties. So I'm down to one thing:

Paying $30 to become an ordained minister in The Church of the SubGenius.

Hey, any religion that makes fun of other religions, capitalism, consumerism, hypocrisy and has elected Bill Hicks a Saint is a-ok by me.

Seriously, I can't believe I didn't stumble into this sooner. An entire religion based on satire? Count. Me. In. This is right up my alley. Plus, they have killer marketing materials.



Also, check out this wicked list of official holidays:
January 16 - The Night of the Lemur
January 24 - The Feast of St.Klaatu
February 16 - Cremation Wednesday
February 23 - The Feast of St.Monty Python
March 8 - The Feast of Weird Al Yankovic
March 17 - The Feast of the Blessed Leprechaun
March 28 - Palmistry Sunday
April 1 - The Feast of Saint Eris
April 13 - Saint Bill Hicks Day
April 15 - The Feast of Saint Dracula
May 6 - The Feast of Saint Guinness the Stout
May 31 - Desecration Day
June 1 - Yell "Fudge" at North American Cobras Day
June 22 - The Feast of Saint Kali
July 16 - The Display of the Embarrassing Swimsuits
July 17 - The Feast of Saint Caligula
August 1 - Drug Side-Effects Day
August 6 - The Dance of the Insensitive Bastards
September 1 - Start of the Holy Month of "Ramalamadingdong"
September 6 - Caesarean Section Day
September 20 - Yummy Kippers Day
October 2 - All Asquires Day
October 9 - The Feast of Saint Attila
October 20 - The Feast of Saint Oliver the humanzee
November 10 - The Feast of Saint Cthulhu
November 19 - Hate for the Sake of Hating Day
December 9 - The Martyrdom of Saint Kenny
December 14 - Whiny Victimization/Co-Dependency Day
December 31 - The Feast of Saint Lucifer

That's a helluva lot of days off work! It's way better than Jesus' holiday schedule.

I have to order their propaganda ("Pamphlet #1"), but here's hoping that that $30 ministry certificate comes with a cool hat like the Pope's. And even if it doesn't, at least this religion won't be as stuffy and institutionalized as the archaic ones and it's still not as goofy as Scientology.

2008 Fucking Sucks

I hate the first morning after a holiday weekend. Your sleep pattern is all out of whack and you just hope you get enough solid sack time to make it through that first day back at work or school. That's the boat I was in going to sleep last night, just hoping to get enough sleep to survive today. Then things went wrong, very, very wrong.

I was awakened by one of the more twisted dreams I've had in awhile. I don't really want to get into it, but a bunch of people I know end up getting stabbed, myself included. I go last and it was all my fault. So I woke up nice and disturbed at about 5am. Nice.

After tossing and turning for about two hours I tried to take a shower. It got down to about 4 degrees last night, wind chill excluded. Apparently, I can withstand the cold, but my plumbing can't. The knobs would not turn and I didn't feel like snapping them off. Luckily I showered last night, so off to work I went. I've since bumped my heat up to about sixty five, rather than fifty.

Once at work I quickly surmised that our server had major-league problems. It's been gimping along for about 16 months now, low on memory, numerous bugs, missing patches and updates. I was just trying to save some bucks. If it's something I can't handle, and the company has to pay someone $145 an hour, I might as well give them more than one thing to fix.

So I was busy doing that from 7:45am to....about 3:45pm. Somewhere in there my back starting killing me. I don't know if it's because for the vast majority of the last two weeks I've been wearing pajamas and I'm not used to the rigidity and comfort of an $80 pair of Dockers slacks or what. Maybe it's the weight lifting I did a couple of days ago, maybe it was bad form. Maybe I don't fucking know. But I was hobbling around the office in tears the second half of the day.

So I come home around 5:35 to find my shower has come back on. Or unfrozen. I'm still not sure what the problem was. But apparently my water was running for most of the day. So I go to shut it off. It won't turn off. Probably because the knobs wouldn't budge this morning, so I couldn't have turned it on. I found the main valve and turned it off.

That is why 2008 fucking sucks.

The Defense rests, your honor.

Auld Lang Syne, or Something

Perfect lazy New Year's day. I woke up at 10:30 this morning. I got roped into going to Harrah's Casino in St. Charles last night. The place was pretty packed. I'd never been to a casino before, so it was an interesting outing. I managed to only lose $30 and gained an insightful lesson about myself: I don't have the patience to be a gambler. I'd much rather prefer betting on something I feel like I have a knowledge of, like sports, or something I think I can stay psychologically invested in, like live card games. Being stuck in a casino, you get hypnotized by the neon lights, pumping music, and people yelling and chatting. It being Missouri, you also get a nice dose of secondhand smoke wherever you go. But anyway, you zone out and stop playing as sharp as you need to. And no, this isn't a result of booze - I held myself to one Bud Light.

My boss goes to Vegas at least once a year and I've heard stories of how bad you get disoriented in the casinos out there. Harrah's is one of the bigger ones in the St. Louis-Metro area, but out in Vegas I hear they're miles deep; you can wander around for days without getting fresh air or seeing daylight. Kind of like some of the scenes in Casino or Leaving Las Vegas.

So this morning I'm doing what I wanted to do for the last three days of this long weekend: sitting around, doing absolutely nothing. Missouri is up in the Cotton Bowl. Down by 14 to start the second half, Arkansas attempted an onside kick. Mizzou took about six plays to punch it in for a stout 21-0 advantage coming out of the half. This is big for Missouri. Even if they win, they'll be discredited because Arkansas is a team between coaches (Houston Nutt took off, Bobby Petrino is incoming). If they lose, they get dissed because they'll finish with back to back losses, with the second being to a team without a coach that could finish no better than #5 in the SEC. For the sake of shutting up all those SEC assholes out there, I hope Missouri holds on to win this by about forty points. Bernie Miklaz outlined the importance of this game very well in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch this morning.

I'm listening to the subscriber's best of 2007 selections this morning on Sirius, too. Right now, I'm hearing the segment after Bubba's wedding where Ronnie the Limo Driver gets reamed out for his behavior. It's great. I could listen to Ronnie get reprimanded for days on end. My two favorite lines:

Howard (riffing): Ronnie spends so much time at Scores that he's now got this new "Scoresman" personality. The problem is it's a vomit-personality.

Howard (to Ronnie): Is "let's fuck some whores" your new catchphrase or something? What is that? What's wrong with you? Listen to me, Ronnie, here's your new catchphrase: "let's fuck up Howard's reputation." You've got some personality on you.

Think I might grill some chicken and boil some rice, then wait for the Illinois-USC game. By all accounts, Illinois is in for a tough afternoon. The one silver lining is that the teams that have given USC fits over the last six years have been teams running the spread offense and with a mobile QB, just like Illinois has going for them. Washington and Oregon fit the bill this year - the Huskies nearly pulled off the upset, while the Ducks did - and Texas' victory in the National Championship game a couple of years back also fits the bill.

Missouri just returned an interception for a TD and it's now 28-0. A little past halfway through the third quarter, All-World Arkansas running back Darren McFadden has been held to 17 carries for 75 yards.