GET OUT OF THE CAR! GET OUT OF THE F*#@ING CAR!

Let me quickly relay a funny story Pete reminded of a week or so ago.

It was early Spring, 2003. I was living in a house in Provo, affectionately termed to dude’s house. Our landlord was a way cool guy who spoke and acted exactly like The Dude, from The Big Lebowski. We could have gone months without paying rent and I don’t think he would have noticed. He also starred in a movie about Porter Rockwell that co-starred Karl Malone. You know it’s a good movie when 37 people on IMDB have bothered to rate it.

The Iraq war had just begun and my roommate Spencer and I were enjoying CNN’s live, 24 hour coverage of embedded reporters. Is wrong to say we enjoyed it? It was incredibly interesting. Not just the war and the reasons behind it but the coverage endlessly entertaining. You could tell that each one of these onsite reporters just had the boner of a lifetime each time they were on the air. And really, why shouldn’t they? They are protected from danger and yet have a front row seat for the invasion of a country. Most of them played up the part, looking like mix between Indiana Jones and Aragorn. And then they would pass it back to Daryn Kagan. I like my studio reporters to have that mid forties hotness going on.

So it was a slow Friday night in Provo, Utah. We decided to commemorate Shock and Awe by lighting off a bunch of kick ass bottle rockets Spencer had bought in Thailand earlier that year. These things beat the hell out of that Black Cat crap you buy in Evanston. They know how to make explosives in Indo-China. Spencer, Pete, myself and it runs in my mind that another one of Spencer’s buddies was with us. Anyway, we were blowing up soda cans, tying fuses together and launching a dozen at a time, the regular kind of stuff. After about an hour or so, three cop cars peel around different corners in a coordinated attack. Three federales jump out of their cars yelling at us to halt. Naturally, we ran like hell.

Now, if you’re not familiar with the world of Utah County, let make this very clear. Provo cops are assholes. Second only to tow truck drivers / car booters, they are the biggest bastards in that town. Sleazy landlords are third. There are a million cops and they don’t have a damn thing to do except harass the 40,000 students that live in their jurisdiction and steal their money. Now I’m sure that those cops have had more than their share of run ins with obnoxious twenty somethings that have an ax to grind with the po po . And I’m not anti cop. They are usually the good guys. When I watch footage of the 1968 Democratic National Convention, I’m cheering on the riot squad beating the damn hippies. But the residents of Utah Valley do not deserve the treatment they often get at the hands of local Rosco P. Coltrains.

With the exception of Iran, I would say that Provo has the best behaved student population on Earth. You have 40,000 plus (probably more than that now)18-25 year old students that are respectful of authority, sober and for the most part boring as hell. And yet any chance they get, the cats in blue will flex their muscle and shut down a party that has no alcohol (which would be completely legal) and no documented noise complaint. And if you ask them polite questions about their actions, you get the puffed chest, authoritative defensiveness, often accompanied by reach toward their tazer. Most return missionary / Elders Quorum 2^nd counselors will freely concede any such confrontation, regardless of how right or wrong they are. That’s called being a bully, not a police officer.

So we all took off in different directions. It’s an old instinct finely honed in every man’s life in their early toilet papering days. However, I was faced with a problem. The other three guys all had cell phones. I did not. I was late to figure out that they really are a necessity. So they just called each other, met up and got something to eat. I didn’t have my wallet or a car or a phone. And just about everyone I knew in town had moved out for the summer. So the only thing I could do was walk around. I walked around the neighborhood, talking to myself like a crazy person for three hours, afraid to go home because I was convinced the SWAT team was staking out my house.

Common sense finally prevailed. It is a college town on a weekend, there has to be some other disturbance somewhere else that called these guys away from my house. Still, I snuck into the backyard, entered the back door. I grabbed my keys and my wallet headed to my car that was parked in front of my house. I started the engine to go get a Breakfast Burrito de Beto’s. As soon as I put it into drive, three cops came running in form different directions with guns pulled, screaming at me to “GET OUT OF THE CAR! OUT OF THE F*CKING CAR!” These guys had been hiding in the bushes for three hours waiting for one of us to come back. They handcuffed me and sat me down on the curb. Damn it I wish I was shirtless with a Cops cameraman filming me. Once in a lifetime opportunity blown.

One of the cops was a real smart ass. “How stupid to you gotta be? You run from the cops and then you come back the same night?” It took all the strength of my soul to not say, “Buddy, you’ve been squatting in dirt for three hours waiting to give me a 60 dollar ticket. I’m the idiot?”

“You go to school?”

“Yes, officer. I go to BYU.”

“Oh yeah? How do you think they would like it if they found out about this incident?”

I’m sorry, but did a police officer just threaten to tell on me? Aren’t they the authority? Shouldn’t I be fearful of the fact they have me in handcuffs and not my guidance counselor?

I was polite and subdued. I’m a smartass by nature, so that took some effort. I ended up with an eighty dollar ticket. Sixty for the fireworks, twenty for evading arrest. Or something like that. It wasn't very much. Now, I'm not claiming that my civil rights were violated. I'm not a victim of police brutality. If anything, this experience made me feel dangerous. So thank you, Provo cops for giving me a story to tell. But I do wonder if they ever sit at home, watch The Wire and cry because of the absurdity of their lives.

The Coens Part 3: The Stylized and Quirky

The Hudsucker Proxy (1994)

Fight on, fight on, dear old Muncie
Fight on, hoist the gold and blue
You'll be tattered, torn, and hurten
Once the Munce is done with you
Go... Eagles!

The Coens are clearly in love with mid 20th century America. They often embed their stories in the 1930’s, 40’s and 50’s music, fashion, slang and overall zeitgeist. I hate that word, by the way. Such a stupid college term paper word.

This movie is rich with detail. The board room, the mail room, the coffee shop, the news room are all overflowing with exaggerated style that reinforces every notion I have of what life was like 20 years before I was born. I also love the razor sharp dialogue. I really wish people actually talked like this all the time. Wouldn’t life be more interesting?

In the Hudsucker Proxy we see the Art Deco world of 1950’s New York. This hyper-reality tells the story of a rube from Muncie, Indiana named Norville Barnes (Tim Robins). Norville comes to town with his degree from the Muncie School of Business to make it big in the corporate excess of the post war boom with a million dollar idea that would bring people together even though it keeps them apart, spatially. You know, for kids. He gets swept up in the diabolical plan of one Sidney Mussberger (Yeah yeah, sure sure) played by Paul Newman. That’s right, Paul Freaking Newman. Second only to Steve McQueen on the all time list of movie badasses.

The clip below sets up the general premise of the movie. Nothing bores me more than writing or reading a synopsis. So I’m done.



Norville’s first day at work in the Hudsucker Mail Room.

O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000)

If you told me in 1999 that in a year I would fall in love with a Three Stooges musical, set in 1930’s Mississippi, based on a Greek poem, starring Georg Clooney, I think would have been a little skeptical. But Joel and Ethan pulled it off. Seriously, the premise of this movie seems like a joke. Like one of their friends dared them to take the most difficult, ridiculous idea and make it into an Oscar nominated hit. When taking the scale of difficulty into account, this may be their best film.

Much like Hudsucker, O, Brother is overflowing with art design details and fast pitch dialogue. Set in the rural south during the depression this movie is loosely based on Homer’s The Odyssey. I emphasize the word loosely. If you are familiar with the original story, don’t get hung up on it. They don’t make too big of an effort in staying true to it.

“Pete, the personal rancor reflected in that remark I don't intend to dignify with comment. But I would like to address your general attitude of hopeless negativism. Consider the lilies of the goddamn field or... hell! Take at look at Delmar here as your paradigm of hope.”

Seriously, why don’t people really talk like this? Here’s a link to a pretty long list of worthy quotes from this movie. Worthy but no where near complete.

One more thing. The music of O, Brother is its defining feature. As a result of this movie and its soundtrack, I have developed a great love of Bluegrass music. Man I love the sound of a good Dobro. O, Brother is a musical. You don’t know it’s a musical while you watch it but most of the songs you hear are being performed by the actors within the story. The chain gang, the Christian congregation, The Soggy Bottom Boys, the sirens, The Wharvey Gals, The KKK, the gravediggers all create the music we hear on screen.

As a general rule, I hate musicals. Next time you see me, ask me what I think of Grease. Actually, don’t. I will unleash a tirade of hateful venom that no one needs to hear. But if Grease featured a gopher eating, lovable dimwit named Delmar, I just might love it. But it doesn’t, so I don’t. Grease sucks. I just offended every female reading this blog. Part of me is proud of that. There’s a reason I’m not married, I just ain't bonafide.

Hey Hey, Ho Ho, Dumbshit Protesters Have to Go!

Does this picture make you more or less sympathetic to whatever cause these people are promoting?

So, I like to consider myself a reasonably well informed, politically minded person. As such, I have been enjoying the Democratic and Republican National Conventions over the last two weeks. It's a historic campaign for many reasons and after an endless primary process, it's finally getting good. I really look forward to the debates, the posturing and the gamesmanship that we will see over the next two months.

But there is one thing I saw during McCain's acceptance speech last night that I have never understood. When will misguided political radicals learn that obnoxious protests do more damage to their cause than good? I couldn't care less about what their message happens to be. 911 Truthers, Global Warming Apocalypse, Cheney drinks the blood of Iraqi babies. Whatever. It's a free country, believe whatever the hell you want. But if they're going to try to persuade other people, at least do it by using tactics that work. And certainly don't go with worn out cliches that are counterproductive. Interrupting a Presidential candidate while he is addressing the nation does not win any supporters to whatever cause you have. It infuriates and inspires your opposition and it alienates and irritates fair minded people, who may have been persuaded to your cause if you hadn't been such a prick about it.

It's like bumper stickers. No one in the history of time has ever been parked behind a car at a red light and had their political / cultural viewpoint revolutionized by a 4 word slogan screaming at them from the bumper in front of them. No Subaru driving, hairy legged woman has ever said, "You know what, I've been a life long pro choice advocate, but maybe it really is a child, not a choice. The minivan told me so." Just as no F350 owning, Carhart Jacket wearing plumber has ever said "Hey, I am an NRA member and an avid hunter, but I now believe meat is murder. Thanks preachy PETA member, driving a lime green Jetta."

The reason this has never happened is the same reason that protesters are always ineffective. Bumper stickers are not meant to be a statement of persuasion, they a statement of individual expression. If I had a Boston Red Sox sticker on my car, I'm not telling you to love the Red Sox. I'm telling you that I love the Red Sox. Likewise, if I had a John Birch Society "Get U.S. Out of the U.N." sticker,I should have no real expectation of changing anyone's mind about the value of the U.N. I would only really be interested in presenting myself in a specific political light.

A giant protest is nothing but a massive bumper sticker. Signs, chanting, friggin' puppets?! None of it does anything except reinforce the beliefs of those that already agreed with you and piss off your opposition. And that's a pretty futile objective. The same applies to right wing talk radio. Rush Limbaugh makes no attempt what-so-ever at convincing others of his beliefs. He is reinforcing those that already agree with him. The problem with this attitude, is that as soon as that becomes your objective, you have a license to act like a total dick. People who agree will love you know matter what kind of an ass you are, and everyone else hates you anyway. Rush certainly is aware of this, and those douchebags last night seemed to know it as well.

Look, I'm not here to tell you what to believe. It's not that I don't care. I love having well thought out, honest discussions with people who agree or disagree with me. Defending my own beliefs usually strengthens them, however I have been persuaded by another point of view several times. Either way, it's a constructive experience. But the problem is, you can't have an honest discussion with someone who is screaming at you.

Coens Part 2: The Early and Overlooked

Blood Simple (1985)

In 1984, the Coen brothers produced, wrote and directed their first feature film. This is a dark, twisted movie that deserves your attention. In many ways it is a prototype to No Country For Old Men Set in an anonymous small town in Texas, a flawed, tortured man makes a deal with the devil. And then it all goes wrong. Classic Noir.

Francis McDormand makes her film debut. It also features the endlessly creepy Dan Hedaya (Nick Tortelli from Cheers) and M. Emmit Walsh (Doctor Jelly Finger from Fletch).

Take the time to watch the following trailer. Put it on full screen and really watch it. Look at that opening shot of the freshly plowed field, sound of a shovel digging as the camera slowly pans to a man digging a grave by the headlights of his parked car. This is a chilling movie. If you were at all a fan of No Country For Old Men, than you really need to watch Blood Simple. It is every bit as good. Well, maybe not. But it’s in the ballpark. For a debut film, can you ask for more?

Miller's Crossing (1990)

Miller's Crossing is the third movie made by my buddies (Raising Arizona was between them). This is a prohibition, Chicago gangster movie. Not only is it set in that era, it feels like it was made in that era. It is definitely a homage / tribute / ripoff of the classic mobster films of the 30’s. The old timey dialogue, the twisting storyline of double and triple crossing. The Fedora clad men with a cigarette hanging out the corner of their mouth. A silhouetted conversation between a man and woman who mutual disdain is only eclised by their reciprocal lust. The only thing this movie is missing is Edward G Robinson and his Chief Wiggum-like “Mmmnnyeaaa!”

This is the first time the Coens worked with two main stays, John Turturro and Steve Buscemi. Both joined the cast of regulars that include John Goodman, Francis Mcdormand and Charles Durning that would be featured in about every other Coen movie from here on out.

The following are two clips from the movie. The first is the opening scene in which the conflict between the two main factions is laid out. The Irish mob boss Leo and the Italian up-and-comer Casper. The plot twists and turns but at all times, it is true to itself. The second clip is a great scene featuring a hit attempt on Leo played by Albert Finney. It is pretty much spoiler free but it is some great action . It features an excellent use of the song “Danny Boy”. Again, please take the time to watch these. This is a film that may feature drab cinematography, confusing loyalties and a lot of talking. But stick with it. It beats the hell out of The Untouchables, that's for sure.

Coens' part 1: Biology and the Prejudices of Others . . .

Raising Arizona (1987)

Is there a more perfect comedy? I don't know that there is. Endlessly quotable, precise in its observation but still very affectionate to the subject of its ridicule. You can tell that the Coen's really care about H.I. and Ed (Short of Edwina. Turn to the right!).

There is a rhythm to the dialogue that takes a little time to appreciate, so multiple viewings are mandatory. Here's a fun fact about me. In 1999, I logged on to the internet for the first time. A little late, I know. I was on a mission for the previous two years. Anyway, with this newfangled tool to explore the collective knowledge of mankind, do you know the first thing I searched for on Netscape Navigator? "Raising Arizona screenplay". To my joy, I found it and printed off all 30 pages of it. I then annotated the hell out of that thing. It is a very worthy piece of literature. Here's a link. Iihii looohove it sohoo muuuch! (can't really spell it the way Ed says it, but you get the idea)

I don't want to break the whole thing down here, so I'll be brief. What makes Raising Arizona such an impressive movie are two primary characteristics that are often not found in mainstream comedies. It's a very high quality film, regardless of it humor. And as funny as it is, it is almost entirely a wholesome comedy. Let me explain.

Outside of being funny, it is still very good. That can't be said for most comedies. Austin Powers is a very funny movie. But it is not a good movie by any stretch. Which is fine, it isn't trying to be a good movie. But if you adjusted the acting and the dialogue of Raising Arizona, and made it into a film about two desperate people trying to find happiness, this would be a compelling drama that wrestles with themes of moral justification, personal duality and fate. Instead, they went the screwball route. They kept all of the substance but disguised it with a zany stylization that disarms the viewer. You can watch this movie several times without ever knowing how brilliant it really is.

There's some serious symbolism of the lone biker. There's a reason he has the same tattoo as H.I., there's a reason he dreampt of the biker before he saw him. There's a meaning to the song Ed sings when H.I. wakes up from his nightmare. If you give it some thought, there's some serious meat to this film. But if a frog had wings, it wouldn't bump its ass a hoppin'.

I also mentioned wholesome humor. This movie don't know a cuss word from Shinola. Look, I have nothing against profanity laced filth. I’m all for it and so are the Coens as any Big Lebowski fan will attest. But there are is something to be said for a comedy that abstains from excessive vulgarity and sex jokes for its humor (with the exception of the "as in to swing" conversation and the unfortunate f word in the following clip). It relies on wit, verses audacity to get a laugh. It’s a more difficult path to travel.

Finally, this movie contains the greatest final line in the history of cinema. H.I. reflecting on a hopeful future: "And it seemed like, well... our home. If not Arizona, then a land not too far away, where all parents are strong and wise and capable and all the children are happy and beloved. I don't know. Maybe it was Utah." Thanks for the love, H.I.

The following is a clip of the first ten minutes of the movie. I tried to get the entire prologue but it isn't easy with that sumbitch Reagan in the White House. It cuts off right at "Unpainted Arizona! To get the finest seIectionin fixtures and appointments for your bathroom, bedroom, boudoir!" Don't bother asking about the southern accents in Arizona. Just enjoy it. I especially love the banjo music. Ode To Joy never sounded so good.

Kinda Creepdy Looking, But Friggin' Brilliant

The Coen Brothers have had a pretty damn good year. Hopefully it's gonna get better. I'm sure you've seen the previews for Burn After Reading coming out next week. I am a huge Coen fan. I own exactly fifteen DVD's. I just never saw the point in buying a movie that I was only going to watch once. But of those fifteen, elevin of them are Coen brothers films. (The other four are Christopher Guest films.) I love them all. The indie Blood Simple, the endlessly quotable Raising Arizona, the artsy Barton Fink, the frightening / hilarious Fargo, the tragically overlooked Man Who Wasn't There, the brutal No Country For Old Men. I even liked Intolerable Cruelty and Ladykillers, even though they both seemed a little sloppy.

Joel and Ethan Coen have created twelve feature length movies (Intolerable Cruelty is the one I'm missing). Burn After Reading makes thirteen. Every one of these films needs to be seen by you and everyone you know. I am taking it upon myself to see that they are. So over the next week or so, I going to include one entry for every one of the Coen Brothers movies. These will mostly be clips of the movies. I could talk about them, tell you how funny, beautiful, insightful and amazing they are, but Joel and Ethan do a better job selling themselves than I ever could. I was originally going to do one big post, but if i blast you with a thousand clips, you'll only watch two of them and move on.

To start things off, here's the trailer and a few clips from the upcoming "Burn After Reading". Hopefully this is another "Big Lebowski" (shut the f*ck up, Donny) and not another "Ladykillers"(again, not a terrible movie but it is their weakest one). Based on these clips, I am quite hopeful.

Trailer

Burn After Reading - Theatrical Trailer | Movies & TV | SPIKE.com

The first time I saw this on the internet, I wasn't terribly impressed. But the Coen brand is strong enough in my mind to work through any lingering doubt.

Brad Pitt

Burn After Reading Featurette - Brad Pitt | Movies & TV | SPIKE.com

You know, I keep waiting to get sick of Brad Pitt but I never do. He's in two or three movies a year, he's in a high profile, tabloid infested, celebrity marriage. And he surrounds himself with his ultra attractive, smug counterparts and pushes a preachy, short sighted agenda to us common, red forearmed simple folk. Really, how is he any different than Ben Affleck, whom I despise? If I were a man of integrity, I would hate him. But I don't. In fact, I'm quite fond of him. Brad is just too damn charming.

George Clooney

Burn After Reading Featurette - George Clooney | Movies & TV | SPIKE.com

It must be noted that the Coens took a huge chance by casting George Clooney in O, Brother Where Art Thou. Clooney was still washing off the stink of Batman and Robin when they cast him in 1999. I remember being a little pissed off when I heard about it. But George made me a believer. That effectively launched his legitimate film career and finally got him out from the ER shadow. And even though I find him pretentious, I have really enjoyed just about every movie he has made in the last five or so years. That and his dad was a news broadcaster on the crappiest news in Salt Lake during the 90's. "Nick Clooney, Fox 13 News!"

John Malkovich

Burn After Reading Featurette - John Malkovich | Movies & TV | SPIKE.com

It's always nice to get a good shout out to us Mormons. It's refreshing to hear a reference that does not include polygamy. This is John Malkovich's first run with the Coens. Long overdue.

Francis McDormand

Burn After Reading Featurette - Frances McDormand | Movies & TV | SPIKE.com

Francis McDormand starred in the Coen's first film, Blood Simple in 1984. She married Joel Coen later that year. Since then she has been in about every other movie of theirs. She won an Oscar with Fargo. Funny, intense, bitchy, desperate, seductive, she pulls it all off perfectly.

So stay tuned. I'll probably do two films at a time. Be sure to watch the clips, get a feel for what the moive is and then adjust your Netflix cue accordingly. Or let me know. I'm happy to lend mine out. If you start now, you can have them all under your belt by the time Burn After Reading opens.

Two Pizzas and Six Football Games Later . .

Hell of a good Labor Day Weekend. A new TV and a ton of College Football.

So for those of you who know me (lucky bastards, all) you know that I am a pretty big sport’s fan. That’s right, I qualify as one of the unwashed, unread morons that scream and yell at the TV, throw the remote and then curse the gods for my misery when a group of athletes break my heart yet again. Why do I give my happiness away to people that have no idea who I am?

But that being said, it’s finally football season, baby! Oh man, this is the best time of the year. Hopes are high, the air is crisp, the grass is fragrant. Man, it is a beautiful thing. Since it’s something that’s on my mind, I thought about writing a few sports themed entries. The latest on my teams, what can we expect next week bla bla bla. I have had entries in the past about how the X Games suck, how Euro basketball players are disgusting and how the Yankees are evil. Pretty obvious observations, really. But I'm going to resist the urge turn this into a sports blog. There's already a ton of those out there. And quite frankly, I’m a little embarrassed by how much I care about sports. There isn’t anything wrong with it. But if I spent the time and money I waste on BYU Football, the Boston Red Sox and the Utah Jazz by reading fine literature and investing in a retirement account, I would be much better for it. But instead, I splurged on a 50 inch plasma HDTV (it is glorious!) for football season only to be pissed off and miserable when BYU fumbled four times in the 3^rd friggin quarter last Saturday.

Another reason why I’m going to avoid any sports specific blog entries is that it is impossible to discuss college football in the state of Utah without rehashing the BYU Utah rivalry. And I get so nauseated by that discussion. So I’ll just pass.

Instead I want to take this time to piss and moan (it’s what I do best) about two aspects of the sports fan’s life that irritate me. Sports Talk Radio and Fantasy Football.

Let’s go with Sports Talk Radio first. See, the problem with being a Jazz fan and a BYU football fan is that no one outside of my happy, little home could give two craps about either team. So any national syndicated show doesn’t touch them and when they do discuss them, they are always uninformed. So that leaves me with the dregs of the local talk radio. And let me tell you, it’s bad. 1280 and 1320 are the two primary sports talk stations in Utah and each of them are terrible. 1280 especially. Just look at this picture of Pat Kinahan of 1320 and tell me this guy isn't a douche. Now listen to him derail the sports conversation with his tone deaf sarcasm on the Manly Morning Show or whatever quasi gay title they have now. After five minutes, you'll be resisting the urge to jab a pen in your ear to make the noise stop.

Why is it that there are no local sports talk personalities that are from Utah? They are all transplants from outside the Wasatch Front. David James (nice enough guy, but overexposed) is from San Diego, Pat Kinahan (bad combination of being sarcastic and deeply unfunny) is from Phoenix, Gordon Monson (pompous, pseudo intellectual ass) is from Philadelphia, Kevin Grahm (squeaky voiced, disagreeable twat) is from Michigan. How do I know all of this? Because they never stop telling us. Over and over. Updating us on how their teams are doing. David James, I don’t give a flying shit about San Diego and I certainly don’t care about how the Padres are doing. In fact I aggressively don’t care. Is it so hard to find a Communications graduate from Utah or BYU that grew up in Salt Lake, a life long follower of the major teams of the area and can reflect local opinion? Instead we get the guys who weren’t good enough to get a job in a bigger market. They’re stuck here and we’re all stuck with them. I try to not to listen, but it’s like picking at a scab. I need to listen to more NPR. The soothing voices will calm me down.

And as for Fantasy Football; look I’m just against it. I know I’m in the minority on this one. Every person who claims to be a football fan is all over fantasy football in every office and classroom in America. I believe football is a glorious enough sport to be appreciated and savored on its face value. You shouldn’t have to make a little game within the game to enjoy it. And if you do need that to be interested, you’re not a football fan. Go to hell. And for those fantasy players that are real football fans, it messes with your loyalties. If you hate the Cowboys (and you should), but you drafted Tony Romo for your quarterback, how are you going to feel when the Eagles have a late game lead, but the Cowboy’s are driving? If you love real football more than fantasy football, then you’ll hope Romo fumbles away yet another big game. If you love fantasy football more than reality, then you have sold your soul to the stat geek, nerd world of pseudo fandom and you hope Romo passes for another 30 yards to bring up his quarterback rating. For shame.

One more thing. If you are one of these guys that loves fantasy football more than actual football, please keep it to yourself. No one cares about your fantasy football team. Ever. No matter how brilliant your lineup substitution may have been, unless someone specifically asks you about it, just shut up.

It’s like talking about your blog. Nothing wrong with having a blog (I hope) just don’t talk about it. If someone else brings it up, fine. But don’t ever start a sentence, “So have you read my blog? I wrote yesterday about how SSSSSSHHHHHH” See that’s what happens to the person listening. Your voice turns into white noise at that point. “So I drafted both Plaxico Burress and Terrell Owens, but I could only play one of them. So I decided to SSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHH” Buddy, no one else cares. Now if you want to talk about the actual game, let’s shoot the bull. Because the game actually happened. It was a documented event witnessed by thousands of people. You’re brilliance in managing your fantasy team exists only in the world of the hypothetical and therefore is of no value to anyone outside of that same land of make believe.