Friday, August 28, 2009
Peaches In The Summertime, Apples In The Fall
Is there anything on Earth better than a really good peach? I'm not sure that there is. Juicy but not sloppy. Tender but not mushy. And an explosion of flavor. Seriously. It's a pleasure I look forward to every August. Of course, there are few things worse than a terrible peach. That's why you gotta be patient.
So with that, let me share a song by Jerry Garcia and David Grisman that mentions a peach exactly once in four and half minute. I've never been a big Dead fan, but I love Jerry's solo bluegrass he did with Grisman.
Good music. Good peaches. It's a good day. It really doesn't take that much to make me happy.
I could have posted a number of songs now that I think about it. "Pour Some Sugar On Me" because you got the peaches, I got the cream. Well done Joe Elliott. Brilliant word play. "The Joker" is another option. Because in addition to Steve Miller, I too love your peaches and I indeed would like to shake your tree. But Steve Miller Band may be the worst 70's band of all time. Okay, Foreigner is the worst 70's band of all time. But Steve Miller is pretty awful. I still like a few of their songs, but I reserve the right to enjoy music that, objectively speaking, is pure crap. I could have gone with The Presidents of the United States of America. But as bad as Steve Miller is, they are far worse. In fact, one could accurately call them the Steve Miller Band of the 90's.
You know, while I'm rambling about nothing in particular, what exactly is the specific innuendo behind peaches? It's a common stripper name (so I've been told). There's clearly no shortage of sexual remarks in several different songs. Are peaches supposed to be boobs? Weren't melons enough? I guess peaches have the little crease that kind of resembles a camel toe, but that meeting you more than half way. And they're kind of fuzzy. Okay, I just answered my own question. In fact, if you reread my first paragraph with that in mind, well . . . . . damn it. How did an innocent, random post about seasonal fruit turn into porn?
Sorry, everybody.
Monday, August 24, 2009
AAAAAAAHHHHHHH! EVERBODY LOOK AT ME!!! LOOOOK AAAAT MEEEE!! I'M A HUGE ASSHOLE!!! AAAAAAAAHHH!!!!
Really loud motorcycles. Damn it.
I'm not sure how common this is. But I have a switch in my brain, that if triggered compels me to clinch my fist and glare daggers at the offending party. I am instantly and involuntarily transformed into fight mode. I'm not immediately violent in fight mode. In fact, I've been in only one fight in my life and that was in 7th grade. But my neck hair is standing up and I am definitely ready to start swinging. Some events that consistently trigger the fight mode reflex are the following:
- Getting hit in the head. I was once mowing a lawn and a low hanging branch jabbed me in the back of the head. I punched the tree. Picture that for a second. I punched a tree. What the hell is wrong with me?
- Getting my shot blocked while playing basketball. Man that pisses me off. Which is a tough one because I suck at basketball.
- The sight of every single jaggoff on the new "Miracle Whip is really cool" TV commercials. I want to be clear. It's not the commercial itself. It's the hipster trash that is in the commercial that triggers the fight switch. Especially the defiant hipster chick at the end of it. I am not a violent person. I certainly don't advocate violence against women. But don't you kind of want to smack the sour anger off her face? Especially as she walks confrontationally toward the camera. "You can't escape me! You want me to tone it down and eat mayonnaise. BUT I WON'T DO IT! I defy your up tight social conventions and demands for conformity with Miracle Whip. Suck on that, society!" Hipsters will claim that their alleged culture is being co opted by this ad. I would suggest that it is a perfect representation. That's right. All of their ironic fetishizing and cultural snobbery is as genuinely cool as a commercial for fake mayonnaise. All you douchebag hipters out there should be quite proud.
- Seeing anyone wearing a Laker jersey at the Energy Solutions Arena. It brings out the territorial dick inside of me. I assume they are not just cheering their team, they are sticking it to me. Taunting me in my own building. It also means that they were either born and raised in Utah but cheer for the Lakers. Or they are a transplant from Southern California to Utah and never stop bitching about the cold and how "there's better restaurants in Orange County." Either way they are an asshole.
- Being startled by car alarms. Can we agree that these no long work? It doesn't demand everyone's attention like they may have 15 years ago. Instead they're like a crying baby on an airplane. People try their best to ignore it, hoping the noise just stops. Anyone could steal a car while the alarm was blaring. Hell, onlookers would be happy to help steal the thing, as long as it made the noise go away.
- Not being able to get up on one ski while waterskiing. I've never been able to do it but I try every time I'm on a boat. It really is a bad spot to be in. Getting dragged by the boat, everyone giving you advise that doesn't make sense, knowing that your crappiness is killing everyone else's good time. And when you slowly fall over to the side and take an unwanted gulp of lake water you then have to float there for a while waiting for the boat to circle around. When I'm in that spot, I don't punch the water and flop around in some childish tantrum (although I want to). But the fury must be released. So I will always lower my head under water and unleash a filthy, hate filled tirade of profanity. The poor fish never see it coming.
But the fight switch trigger that I want to focus on is this; really loud car and motorcycle engines. Oooo man, do those piss me off. If I am relaxing on my front lawn only to have my peace shattered by a blaring asshole racing down the street, I immediately want to fight them.
Apparently, there is some catacomb of the male brain that is hardwired to their boner and instinctively loves the obnoxious blaring of an engine. The louder it is, the bigger the dick must be on the man gunning the throttle. Flawless logic. I am red blooded American man that loves football playoff games in the snow, bloody steaks cooked medium rare and big jiggly boobs. (You probably shouldn't click on that if you're at work or have a shred of decency. Seriously.) But I do not share this facet of the testosterone infused mind. Of all the above stated irritants, loud ass motors are the most intense fight switch triggers I have. And they are the most common offenders.
I used to live in a house on 21st south with a bunch of friends. It was a dump affectionately termed "the taco". It was a stucco house that kind of looked like a Taco Bell. It also happened to be pink. My room shared an exterior wall that faced the street. At least once a night, some asshole would be clamoring up the street with some needlessly loud motorcycle or car, waking me up and sending me into instant fight mode. The thing that drives me crazy about it is the fact that every single driver of a bullet bike, fake Harley, actual Harley, neon blue WRX or gigantic Ford F350 with obligatory Tapout sticker in the window has the ability to be virtually silent. If they wanted it to be. Every other damn car on the highway manages it. This means that this offense is elective. In every case. This makes it inexcusable. But somehow, these jackasses feel compelled to demand our attention by startling the innocent with the worst sounding noise I can think off.
And that noise is indefensible. Whether it is the dentist drill whine of a bullet bike, the garbly barrel of marbles that is the Cummins Diesel, the bone shaking roar of a beat up Camaro or the irritating buzzing of some Japanese video game car, loud engine noises are not a good thing. It screams out, "There is something mechanically wrong with this car. Please fix it!" This is far more of a public hazard than second hand smoke. Where is the nanny state when we need it?
And it's not just cars and bikes. What is so difficult about putting a muffler on a lawnmower? Or a weed whip? I don't know the mechanics of it. I realize that they are different kinds of engines than a car. But it's a muffler. It's not that complicated. Also, I love to snowmobile. I usually go a few times a year. It's an incredibly good time. But just imagine if all you heard while zooming throw the snow covered mountains was the swish of of the sled against the ground. It would be a way better experience. But it isn't even an option.
A few years ago, I had a notion to buy a road bike. I searched around the internet, looking for something that was reasonably cheap and reliable. I wasn't going to drop 15 grand on a Harley. A used Shadow would have been just fine. But every damn ad I read for a used bike bragged about how loud it was. It would be one thing if somehow you could convince me that a loud engine is somehow equivalent to a really nice bike. If only Harley's (which are undeniably badass) made loud noise, then I would grant you that connection. But it is not the case. Any dip shit can buy pipes that amplify the engine noise and help that same dip shit compensate for his repressed homosexuality. "I'm not gay! How can I be? See how loud my bike is!"
Yeah, there aren't any gay bikers out there.
The funny thing to me is, why would anyone want to attract attention to many of the cars that have intentionally loud engines? What is so incredible about your piece of crap Honda Civic? Why would you put one of those coffee can mufflers on a car that you bought for thirty five hundred bucks? I see your tinted windows and electric green paint job and pink license plate light. I hear the bass of the techno music you're playing inside. But why would you really want everyone to turn their heads and look at that perfume laden pig? Dress it up all you want, it's still a thirty five hundred dollar Honda Civic and we all know it. Does it do a Tokyo drift? Will it beat Vin Diesel's car off the line? It sure sounds like it will. Buuzzzzzzzz!
You know, I'm being unfair. Because when I'm honest with myself, I have to admit that I like it when people look at me. I like to feel really manly all the time too. And I don't settle for subtle expressions of that manliness. No I prefer overt, undeniable displays of my masculinity. That's why whenever I'm in a crowded elevator or in a movie theater, or a library, I unzip my fly, remove my scrotum (not the full package, just the balls) point to it and scream as loud as I can.
AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Everyone looks right at me. And they can see that I am indeed a man. It's very effective. I don't care that it infuriates every person in my immediate vicinity. Inconsiderate? Bah! They just wish they were louder than me, with bigger balls. They just can't handle my in your face attitude. Really, if they are put off by my boisterous self expression, it's their problem not mine.
But loud engines still piss me off.
I'm not sure how common this is. But I have a switch in my brain, that if triggered compels me to clinch my fist and glare daggers at the offending party. I am instantly and involuntarily transformed into fight mode. I'm not immediately violent in fight mode. In fact, I've been in only one fight in my life and that was in 7th grade. But my neck hair is standing up and I am definitely ready to start swinging. Some events that consistently trigger the fight mode reflex are the following:
- Getting hit in the head. I was once mowing a lawn and a low hanging branch jabbed me in the back of the head. I punched the tree. Picture that for a second. I punched a tree. What the hell is wrong with me?
- Getting my shot blocked while playing basketball. Man that pisses me off. Which is a tough one because I suck at basketball.
- The sight of every single jaggoff on the new "Miracle Whip is really cool" TV commercials. I want to be clear. It's not the commercial itself. It's the hipster trash that is in the commercial that triggers the fight switch. Especially the defiant hipster chick at the end of it. I am not a violent person. I certainly don't advocate violence against women. But don't you kind of want to smack the sour anger off her face? Especially as she walks confrontationally toward the camera. "You can't escape me! You want me to tone it down and eat mayonnaise. BUT I WON'T DO IT! I defy your up tight social conventions and demands for conformity with Miracle Whip. Suck on that, society!" Hipsters will claim that their alleged culture is being co opted by this ad. I would suggest that it is a perfect representation. That's right. All of their ironic fetishizing and cultural snobbery is as genuinely cool as a commercial for fake mayonnaise. All you douchebag hipters out there should be quite proud.
- Seeing anyone wearing a Laker jersey at the Energy Solutions Arena. It brings out the territorial dick inside of me. I assume they are not just cheering their team, they are sticking it to me. Taunting me in my own building. It also means that they were either born and raised in Utah but cheer for the Lakers. Or they are a transplant from Southern California to Utah and never stop bitching about the cold and how "there's better restaurants in Orange County." Either way they are an asshole.
- Being startled by car alarms. Can we agree that these no long work? It doesn't demand everyone's attention like they may have 15 years ago. Instead they're like a crying baby on an airplane. People try their best to ignore it, hoping the noise just stops. Anyone could steal a car while the alarm was blaring. Hell, onlookers would be happy to help steal the thing, as long as it made the noise go away.
- Not being able to get up on one ski while waterskiing. I've never been able to do it but I try every time I'm on a boat. It really is a bad spot to be in. Getting dragged by the boat, everyone giving you advise that doesn't make sense, knowing that your crappiness is killing everyone else's good time. And when you slowly fall over to the side and take an unwanted gulp of lake water you then have to float there for a while waiting for the boat to circle around. When I'm in that spot, I don't punch the water and flop around in some childish tantrum (although I want to). But the fury must be released. So I will always lower my head under water and unleash a filthy, hate filled tirade of profanity. The poor fish never see it coming.
But the fight switch trigger that I want to focus on is this; really loud car and motorcycle engines. Oooo man, do those piss me off. If I am relaxing on my front lawn only to have my peace shattered by a blaring asshole racing down the street, I immediately want to fight them.
Apparently, there is some catacomb of the male brain that is hardwired to their boner and instinctively loves the obnoxious blaring of an engine. The louder it is, the bigger the dick must be on the man gunning the throttle. Flawless logic. I am red blooded American man that loves football playoff games in the snow, bloody steaks cooked medium rare and big jiggly boobs. (You probably shouldn't click on that if you're at work or have a shred of decency. Seriously.) But I do not share this facet of the testosterone infused mind. Of all the above stated irritants, loud ass motors are the most intense fight switch triggers I have. And they are the most common offenders.
I used to live in a house on 21st south with a bunch of friends. It was a dump affectionately termed "the taco". It was a stucco house that kind of looked like a Taco Bell. It also happened to be pink. My room shared an exterior wall that faced the street. At least once a night, some asshole would be clamoring up the street with some needlessly loud motorcycle or car, waking me up and sending me into instant fight mode. The thing that drives me crazy about it is the fact that every single driver of a bullet bike, fake Harley, actual Harley, neon blue WRX or gigantic Ford F350 with obligatory Tapout sticker in the window has the ability to be virtually silent. If they wanted it to be. Every other damn car on the highway manages it. This means that this offense is elective. In every case. This makes it inexcusable. But somehow, these jackasses feel compelled to demand our attention by startling the innocent with the worst sounding noise I can think off.
And that noise is indefensible. Whether it is the dentist drill whine of a bullet bike, the garbly barrel of marbles that is the Cummins Diesel, the bone shaking roar of a beat up Camaro or the irritating buzzing of some Japanese video game car, loud engine noises are not a good thing. It screams out, "There is something mechanically wrong with this car. Please fix it!" This is far more of a public hazard than second hand smoke. Where is the nanny state when we need it?
And it's not just cars and bikes. What is so difficult about putting a muffler on a lawnmower? Or a weed whip? I don't know the mechanics of it. I realize that they are different kinds of engines than a car. But it's a muffler. It's not that complicated. Also, I love to snowmobile. I usually go a few times a year. It's an incredibly good time. But just imagine if all you heard while zooming throw the snow covered mountains was the swish of of the sled against the ground. It would be a way better experience. But it isn't even an option.
A few years ago, I had a notion to buy a road bike. I searched around the internet, looking for something that was reasonably cheap and reliable. I wasn't going to drop 15 grand on a Harley. A used Shadow would have been just fine. But every damn ad I read for a used bike bragged about how loud it was. It would be one thing if somehow you could convince me that a loud engine is somehow equivalent to a really nice bike. If only Harley's (which are undeniably badass) made loud noise, then I would grant you that connection. But it is not the case. Any dip shit can buy pipes that amplify the engine noise and help that same dip shit compensate for his repressed homosexuality. "I'm not gay! How can I be? See how loud my bike is!"
Yeah, there aren't any gay bikers out there.
The funny thing to me is, why would anyone want to attract attention to many of the cars that have intentionally loud engines? What is so incredible about your piece of crap Honda Civic? Why would you put one of those coffee can mufflers on a car that you bought for thirty five hundred bucks? I see your tinted windows and electric green paint job and pink license plate light. I hear the bass of the techno music you're playing inside. But why would you really want everyone to turn their heads and look at that perfume laden pig? Dress it up all you want, it's still a thirty five hundred dollar Honda Civic and we all know it. Does it do a Tokyo drift? Will it beat Vin Diesel's car off the line? It sure sounds like it will. Buuzzzzzzzz!
You know, I'm being unfair. Because when I'm honest with myself, I have to admit that I like it when people look at me. I like to feel really manly all the time too. And I don't settle for subtle expressions of that manliness. No I prefer overt, undeniable displays of my masculinity. That's why whenever I'm in a crowded elevator or in a movie theater, or a library, I unzip my fly, remove my scrotum (not the full package, just the balls) point to it and scream as loud as I can.
AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Everyone looks right at me. And they can see that I am indeed a man. It's very effective. I don't care that it infuriates every person in my immediate vicinity. Inconsiderate? Bah! They just wish they were louder than me, with bigger balls. They just can't handle my in your face attitude. Really, if they are put off by my boisterous self expression, it's their problem not mine.
But loud engines still piss me off.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
I Need To Commit. Now.
Oh, baby! Football is close.
I am a sports fan that grew up in Utah. As such, I am subject to a particular dynamic that is pretty universal among my kind. The following is generally true for all sports fans that are products of the crossroads of west and the valleys of the everlasting hills.
We live and die with the Jazz and therefore we also really care about the rest of the NBA. And we live and die with either Utah or BYU football (and despise the other) and therefore we really care about the rest of College Football. But we don't have an inherited NFL or MLB team to which we devote our lives. As a result, we still watch the NFL and MLB, but not nearly as intensely as the NBA or College Football. Most of us pick a team, but there's usually a pretty random reason behind it. Therefore, we don't love that team with the same ferocity that we feel toward our home grown teams. Those teams are not an extension of our identity the way the Jazz and Cougars/Utes are. And as a result, the affect of following them, isn't quite as intense.
For example, I consider myself a pretty damn big Red Sox fan. I first started really caring about them in '99 when Pedro pitched game five against the Indians and they would go on to lose to the dirty ass Yankees in the ALCS. But I made the commitment at that time, that I was going to be a Red Sox guy. They were going to be my team and for the rest of my life and I would never get to change my mind.
Why did I decide to sell my soul to Boston? Did I have any personal interaction with the city of Boston before hand? No. Did I have a favorite player on that team? Sort of. But that wasn't the main reason behind the decision. If I'm honest about it, one of the main reason behind my picking the Red Sox as my team was this; I liked their hat. I wanted a hat that I could wear around that not many other people had. A signature that had a classic appeal but still wasn't cliched. In '99, no one wore a Red Sox hat in Utah. And there is also the fact that it has a "B" on it and my name is Brian. Pretty stupid reason to like a team, isn't it? If my name was Cornelius, I just may be an avid Cubs fan. But the decision was made and I never looked back.
And yet, I have never really clicked with any NFL team. There are teams I like and teams I hate. And make no mistake about it, I love the NFL. Football is without question my favorite sport. But I seem to get my fill of competitive fury with College Football and end up following the NFL much more casually. As long as a couple of teams I hate don't win, I'm fine with whatever. I enjoyed the hell out of last year's Superbowl. But I truly didn't care whether Pittsburgh or Arizona won. And as a result, I miss out on the full experience.
So I'm changing that, damn it. Time to commit. I going to make rash decision that will forever affect my sports watching life. I just changed over to Direct TV and I have the Sunday Ticket, in which I get every single NFL game broadcast in glorious HD. It would be a waste to watch this with a "I just want to see a good game" approach. So I have to commit to a team, right now. Pick one and go with it. Watch every game of the season, get my hopes built up and then quickly dashed. You know, the full sports fan package.
The question is, which team to select. Pardon me while I rip off Bill Simmons. Let's break it down.
- The first category are the teams that are easily off the table, due to their inherent evilness.
Dallas. I hate the damn Cowboys and I always have. America's team, my ass. I don't remember voting for them. I hated the Dallas teams of the 90's and nothing gives me more joy than to watch them fail every single year. Tony Romo is a pussy.
Denver. The city of Denver always tries to promote their crappy sports in Utah, as if we should like them based entirely on our geographic proximity. I have always resented this. Get your damn Rockies games off my TV. Also, I always hated Elway and his big teeth and mullet. I'm not sure why. Seems like a nice enough guy. But even though Denver beating Green Bay in '98 was one of the best Super Bowls ever, I still wish he had never won a title. I just loved watching him lose. So, no to Denver.
Oakland. Hell no. I'm not a Raider fan. I don't smoke meth, or beat my wife, or drive a giant, loud truck. Also I believe an NFL game and Halloween should be separate events. Raider fans aren't charming. They're obnoxious.
Jets or Giants. As a rule, I hate all New York based sports teams. Considering that every fan at Giant Stadium owns a Yankee hat, I figure it's a safe rule to have. In fact, even though you couldn't get further away from NYC culturally than Buffalo, this rule also applies to the Bills. So they're out too. It may not be fair, but it's how it is.
Baltimore. The 2000 Superbowl was the most unwatchable display of crap I have ever witnessed. A low scoring blowout. And let me make this clear. It was all due to Kerry Collins' crappiness, not the Ravens' endlessly overrated defense. Also Ray Lewis is a contemptuous cock sucker with a really stupid dance. I am not fan of Terrell Owens, but when he mocked Lewis' stupid dance, that might have been his greatest moment in his life. Seriously, Owens really should have retired immediately after that play and just disappeared. Yeah, Baltimore is definitely out.
- The next list of teams are out due to their trendiness. They're the easy picks and I'm going for something a little more original.
Pittsburgh. I've always liked the Steelers. I was routing for Arizona last year but I was okay with the Steelers winning the Superbowl. But because the won it, I can't pick them. Otherwise I would be no different than all the frauds who wore Bulls shirts back in '93. Even if I stick with them over the years, my devotion would be forever tainted. And taint is something I generally try to avoid.
Arizona. It's a shame really, since I quite like them. But I can't decide to become a die hard Cardinal fan the year after their break out season. It doesn't work that way. If I had picked them a year ago, I would be in the clear. But that window is closed.
Minnesota or Green Bay. Brett Favre ruins either of these choices for me. I have never seen a sports icon that was so universally beloved act like such an oblivious, selfish ass and thereby ruin his legacy. I'm certainly interested in the Viking / Packer rivalry this year. I really don't like Favre at all anymore and would love to see Green Bay stick it to him. I would love to see him fall on his 40 year old ass and average six interceptions a game. But there's a spiteful little part of me that would also like to see Favre go deep in the playoffs and screw over the franchise and fans that created him. It'll be a good show either way. But one that I plan on enjoying from a casual distance.
San Francisco. Why would the Niners be a trendy pick, considering they haven't been worth a crap since '02? Because the two most successful pro players from each of our local colleges played there. Tons of BYU fans loved the Niners in the 80's and 90's because our hero Steve Young was the man. Currently, there are a fair amount of Ute fans that follow them because of Alex Smith, who by the way is a massive, massive bust. I don't care how bad his O Line has been. For being the number one overall pick, he has to be considered a Ryan Leaf level flop. (Bitter Cougar fan speaking.) Outside of Denver, I would say than the Niners have the biggest following in Utah. As a result of that, Niners are out.
Philadelphia. This one kind of hurts me to eliminate, but I'm going to do it anyway. Again, due to a lot of BYU influence, there is a lot of Eagles fans in Utah. Coach Boyardee is a BYU grad and they usually have a couple of players from the state of Utah and that makes them easy to like. They're also a really good team, that is always close to winning it all but never close enough. That makes cheering for them a righteous cause. But, I still can't bring myself to declare my unwavering devotion. It just feels too easy.
New England. Given my affection for the Red Sox, it makes sense for me to be a Patriots fan. But you can't wait for a team to win three Super Bowls and then decide that they were your favorite team all along. I may not have any integrity in regular life, but as a sports fan I am impeccable. No to the Pats.
Chicago. I'm not sure what it is about the Bears that makes people love them so damn much. They haven't been good since '85. Even when they went to the Super Bowl a few years ago, most people were happy to admit it was a fluke. They haven't had one quarterback that didn't suck ass since Jim McMahon. By the way, not enough headbands being worn around the neck, these days. And yet, they have a devout following that is very strong outside of Chicago. Was the Super Bowl shuffle really that cool? The answer is yes. Yes, it was. But I can't pick the Bears because I'm really hoping Jay Cutler crashes and burns this year. That's gonna be sweet.
- The next list of teams are canceled out due to their perennial suckiness and or lameness. I may not be cherry picking a winner here, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna waste my time on a crappy franchise that has no character, identity or hope.
Jacksonville / Houston / Carolina. I know each of these teams have been around for a while but expansion teams just aren't real. They don't count. Even when Carolina went to the Super Bowl, they still didn't count. Does anyone consider the Florida Marlins a legitimate baseball franchise? Of course not. No matter how many World Series they win, they're an impostor. I know Houston had the Oilers for years and years, so they are a town that deserves a real football team. But they don't have one. Just a football equivalent of Pinocchio. If they changed the name from the Texans to the Oilers and went back to the classic uniforms (I have no idea why they didn't do this to begin with) then the Texans would become a real boy. Just like the Browns. But they don't. So they remain a fake team.
Tampa Bay. There's nothing really sucky about the Bucs and I know they've been in the NFL for like 30 years. But they still feel like one of the fake expansion teams to me. Yeah, they won a Super Bowl a few years ago. But who gives a crap. Maybe if they also went back to their original uniforms. Those were sweet.
Atlanta. I realize that the Falcons should have a pretty good year. And given their quick recovery from the Michael Vick fiasco, they're easy to cheer for. But I have a gripe with the Falcons. In 1999, the Falcons beat Steve Young's Niners in a fluke of a game. They then squeaked by Randall Cunningham and the Vikings in the NFC title game and ended up going to the Super Bowl. They screwed everything up. That year was supposed to be Young vs Elway or Cunningham vs Elway in a classic Superbowl for the ages. But instead we got Chris Friggin Chandler and the stupid Dirty Bird dance. The Falcons absolutely sucked in that game. They were destroyed by the Broncos in an unwatchable game and were exposed as the frauds that they were all along. So screw Atlanta. Their fans are terrible anyway.
Lions. Duh.
Kansas City. What a crappy team. Other than serving as the nursing home for Joe Montana's career, what have the Chiefs ever done? Seriously, the highlight of the entire franchise is Christian Okoye getting his ass blown the hell up by Steve Atwater on Monday Night. And they were on the losing end of that. They haven't made a playoff run that I can remember. The closest thing I can come up with was five or six years ago when they had the home field advantage against the Colts and Peyton Manning destroyed them. But they have never really been the bottom feeder either. They've been around since the AFL merger in 1970 and yet they don't have one iconic player. At least Detroit has Barry Sanders. Who does KC have? Elvis Grbac? They don't even suck enough to matter. The Chiefs are invisible.
St Louis. Meh. I don't hate them, I don't like them. And I don't see that changing.
Tennessee. Same as above. Funny that I have no feelings at all about the two teams that gave us the best Superbowl ending of all time (suck it, Dyson). Except possibly this latest Superbowl. That was a damn good one too.
Cincinnati. I just don't see myself cheering for an overrated asshole of a player whose legal last name is "Ocho Cinco". No matter how cool their helmets are.
Miami. They're a classic team with a devoted fan base that may have a break out year. This would be a good time to jump on board. But I can't. Perhaps for the lamest reason possible. But I maintain it is a legitimate reason. They have gay colors. Turquoise and orange. Totally gay. Nope. I can't cheer for a team whose uniforms make me want to eat an Otter Pop. The fact is, when you devote yourself to a team you are also committing to own at least one article of clothing displaying that devotion. Miami's colors can look good on some people. But I don't think I can pull off that look.
-Here are the teams on the short list. They are not finalists. But with some reconsideration, they could make the jump.
Washington. Possibly. They are a classic franchise that hasn't done shit in decades. They probably won't have any kind of breakout season, so I can't be accused of bandwagon hopping. They're in the NFC East, which is one of the most compelling divisions in football. And their mascot is indefensibly racist. This isn't the Utes, or the Seminoles. They are the Redskins, for hell sake. I could be mistaken but I'm pretty sure they were originally "The Drunken, Lazy, Slow Speaking, Black Jack Dealing Redskins" but were forced to shorten it years ago for commercial reasons. Look, I'm not a proponent of American Indian oppression by any stretch. But I do enjoy absurdity. And it doesn't get more absurd than the football team's mascot of our nation's capitol being a slur. So this remains a possibility.
New Orleans. I could see this, as well. A crappy team that has recently developed an identity. And I really like Drew Brees. But, there is a descent chance that this franchise will move to LA within the next five years. And I can never, ever cheer for an LA franchise, due to the Laker factor. I can't cheer for a team that every asshole Laker fan also likes. I won't allow for the possibility for any kind of common ground to exist. So I will act preemptively and say no to the Saints.
Cleveland. There's something charming about a down-on-your-luck football team. Poor Cleveland. Their teams suck so bad. All of them. LeBron or not. They had the Browns forever and were fiercely loyal. But to no avail. Elway screwed them. Then the team moved to Baltimore (the only city in America shittier than Cleveland) where they promptly won a Super Bowl. It isn't right. And for some reason, I really like the orange and brown uniform combination. It feels gritty. Nothing slick and pretty about this team at all. It's all busted fingers and broken noses. But I'm not sure I have the charity to really commit myself to the Browns. Also, Brady Quinn is little bitch. So it's hard to get with a team when you already hate their quarterback. I feel like I'm rejecting a nice and pathetic kid selling me magazine subscriptions door to door. It's a polite no. But I wish them all the luck in the world.
- The Finalists.
Indianapolis. This could have been canceled out under the trendy category. I have always loosely associated myself with the Colts. But I could never honestly call myself a Colts fan. When they finally won the Superbowl, I didn't really care. I still route for them. Perhaps I need to just overtly decide that they are my team and make myself care. Like the really nice girl that's cute enough and clearly likes you. They don't blow you away. (I said "away". Relax.) But you eventually just say "Alright, fine. Let's give this a shot." But instead, I'm going to do to the Colts what I do to the nice girl. Pick out a superficial flaw that I would overlook in someone else and use that as a basis to cancel them out. The downside to the Colts, is that they play indoors. I know it shouldn't matter but it totally does. Football is an outdoor sport. If the Packers can play at Lambeau Field in January, the Colts can play outdoors in Indianapolis. I don't care if they are faster on turf. I want a real football team that isn't scared of grass stains. But they just built their new monstrosity, so that's not gonna change. These things factor into such life long decisions.
Seattle. Also a strong possibility. I have always been a bit of a Seahawk fan, dating back to the Jim Zorn, Steve Largent days. (Love that face mask.) My dad grew up in Seattle and I have always identified with that town. It wouldn't be a huge shift to really commit to them. They have a great home stadium and really cool looking uni's. It's also close enough to Utah, that I can make a trip for a game every year. And contrary to popular belief, Seattle in October is gorgeous. Yeah. I can see this one working.
San Diego. The biggest advantage of of going with the Chargers would be the ability to reference Ron Burgundy when talking about my team. "A Whale's Vagina". Classy. Also, they're in the same division as the Broncos and the Raiders, two teams I already hate. So that's a plus. However, there is a geographical closeness to LA to consider. I imagine most LA residence (filthy Laker fans every one of them) probably like the Chargers as well. That damn Laker factor. If I'm willing to cancel out New Orleans based on a rumor about LA, should I really consider the team of LA's little brother? But then again, it's also close enough to Utah, that I can make a trip for a game. As nice as Seattle is October, San Diego in November is probably better. Hhhmm. Things to consider. . .
I need to make this decision within the next few weeks. I would welcome any input. I'm leaning toward the three finalists, but I'm not committed either way. So I can be persuaded. Feel free to tell me what you think. Unless you just want to tell how awesome the Cowboys are. Seriously. If that's all you have to say, go to hell.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
A Good Reason To Hate Sheryl Crow
There are many reasons to hate Sheryl Crow. But this week I discovered a new one. But let me first run through the obvious reasons for disliking her.
Over the last fifteen years, her music has consistently achieved a Hootie and the Blowfish level of bland crappiness. And yet somehow she has remained relevant. Strange. Specifically, there is the musical abortion that is her rendition of a certain GNR song. I don't want to mention the title for fear that her version may pop into your head. Here's the real one, to fight off any possibility of that happening.
She is quite vocal and completely retarded in her political views. But what celebrity isn't? She has a blow me/bight me face if ever there was one. I still can't decide if I think she's hot or not. She's in her forties, so you have to give her a break. But there's something weird going on with her jaw or her lips or nose or something. I can't put my finger on it. It's confusing. And yes, being confused as to my level of attraction is enough to make me dislike her.
But here is my newest and possibly most irrational reason for hating Sheryl Crow.
Over the weekend, I went to Havasupai in Arizona with some friends. It was an absolutely fantastic trip. It is located near the Grand Canyon on an Indian Reservation. There is a spring fed river that roars down a steep canyon in the middle of the desert and creates massive waterfalls of stunning blue water. It looks like what every resort in Las Vegas is trying to recreate. Here are a few pictures to get an idea. Many of these pictures were taken by Justin and Kris.
You'll note that most of these pictures feature myself and others jumping off or through or into waterfalls. Seriously, it's worth it to enlarge them and see the tiny people crawling around the massive gushing water. Well, sometime early in the trip my spongy, predictable brain made the connection between cannonballing off a gorgeous waterfall in an oasis paradise and that damn video from the Sheryl Crow song that came out years ago. The "soak up the sun" one. At some point in the video, people jump off a waterfall. So what happens? All damn weekend long, I'm singing Sheryl Crow.
Not cool.
In fact, I didn't even allow myself to sing it out loud in an attempt to give it to someone else. It was too embarrassing. So I hid my shame. As a result, it's been almost a week and I'm still kicking that stupid song around in my head.
So I hate Sheryl Crow for interloping on my trip to Havasupai. I didn't invite you and your lame music, Sheryl. So get the hell out of here.
Some more pictures. Seriously, this is an amazing place.
Over the last fifteen years, her music has consistently achieved a Hootie and the Blowfish level of bland crappiness. And yet somehow she has remained relevant. Strange. Specifically, there is the musical abortion that is her rendition of a certain GNR song. I don't want to mention the title for fear that her version may pop into your head. Here's the real one, to fight off any possibility of that happening.
She is quite vocal and completely retarded in her political views. But what celebrity isn't? She has a blow me/bight me face if ever there was one. I still can't decide if I think she's hot or not. She's in her forties, so you have to give her a break. But there's something weird going on with her jaw or her lips or nose or something. I can't put my finger on it. It's confusing. And yes, being confused as to my level of attraction is enough to make me dislike her.
But here is my newest and possibly most irrational reason for hating Sheryl Crow.
Over the weekend, I went to Havasupai in Arizona with some friends. It was an absolutely fantastic trip. It is located near the Grand Canyon on an Indian Reservation. There is a spring fed river that roars down a steep canyon in the middle of the desert and creates massive waterfalls of stunning blue water. It looks like what every resort in Las Vegas is trying to recreate. Here are a few pictures to get an idea. Many of these pictures were taken by Justin and Kris.
You'll note that most of these pictures feature myself and others jumping off or through or into waterfalls. Seriously, it's worth it to enlarge them and see the tiny people crawling around the massive gushing water. Well, sometime early in the trip my spongy, predictable brain made the connection between cannonballing off a gorgeous waterfall in an oasis paradise and that damn video from the Sheryl Crow song that came out years ago. The "soak up the sun" one. At some point in the video, people jump off a waterfall. So what happens? All damn weekend long, I'm singing Sheryl Crow.
Not cool.
In fact, I didn't even allow myself to sing it out loud in an attempt to give it to someone else. It was too embarrassing. So I hid my shame. As a result, it's been almost a week and I'm still kicking that stupid song around in my head.
So I hate Sheryl Crow for interloping on my trip to Havasupai. I didn't invite you and your lame music, Sheryl. So get the hell out of here.
Some more pictures. Seriously, this is an amazing place.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Where I Jinx Another Movie
A few months ago I posted a trailer to the movie "Public Enemies" while stating my hope for another "Heat". I should have know better. The second I publicly expressed a very high expectation of a movie, I immediately set up the disappointment. Not that "Public Enemies" was a bad movie. But it wasn't nearly as good as I was hoping. But my high expectations made the mediocrity feel worse than it really was.
This is also precisely why I refuse to acknowledge any possibility of BYU beating Oklahoma in a month. I just can't. (I know. There really isn't a possibility to acknowledge.)
Well, here I go again. Check out this trailer for Terry Gilliam's new movie "The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus".
Here you have shitballs crazy Terry Gilliam ("Twelve Monkeys", "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen", "Brazil" and "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas") writing and directing a movie featuring a traveling freak show (I think), Tom Waits as the devil (Hell yeah!), a dead Heath Leger in a wacky long nosed orgy mask,(He's already nominated for the best supporting actor Oscar. You heard it here first.), at least one midget (And he's wearing a top hat! Evey midget on earth should wear a top hat. At all times! Giant, three foot tall top hats.), Johnny Depp (if it's a weird looking movie he is contractually obligated to appear at least once) and some freaky deaky Candyland looking scenery.
By the way, do you remember the Candyland board? Weren't the illustrations on that thing creepy as hell? How can something so innocent feel so evil? You can just tell that Lord Licorice was stealing children from the town's people and broiling them alive. Maybe that's why licorice is so disgusting. It's made out dead, broiled children.
I'm usually not a big fan of the wacky looking, wonderland fantasy movies. I never saw "Pan's Labyrinth". "What Dreams May Come" was pretty crappy. In that "Robin Williams is terrible in every movie he's ever been in with the exceptions of 'Good Will Hunting' and 'Good Morning, Vietnam'" kind of way. I still have nightmares from seeing "The Dark Crystal" as a kid. And Terry Gilliam is not infallible. Sure he directed "Monty Python and the Holy Grail". He plays the part of Patsy. But he also did "Brothers Grimm". Which totally sucked.
But it's been a terrible summer for movies. Even worse than last year. "Star Trek". That's it. The only good movie all summer. I liked "The Hurt Locker" as well. But I'm needing this one to wash out the "Transformers" taste in my mouth.
Come on "Imaginarium of Whatever the Hell It Was Called". Be really good!
Please.
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