Amusing names join the Yankees

A long, long time ago I promised myself I wouldn't make any mention of baseball until August. I guess that makes me a liar. However, I do have an exciting excuse of the legitimate possibility of  a World Series run by the Yankees. Perhaps I'm being overly optimistic in saying that but it's hard to deny that Yanks are looking awfully dangerous right now. As if being the best team in baseball since the All Star break wasn't enough, the Yankees have actually shown a pulse before the trade deadline by picking up two big time players: Xavier Nady and Ivan Rodriguez. So now we have suddenly dominant pitching (including Chien-Ming Wang, our ace, potentially returning in September), a handful of future Hall of Famers (A-Rod, Jeter, Rodriguez, Mo), perfectly reasonable role players (Damon, Abreu, Cano) and Jason Giambi's manly, masculine, macho, virile, robust mustache holding it all together. And let's not forget the endless supply of inspirational material we're bound to be subjected to in the midst of the final playoff push at the stadium.

More important than all of this is how amusing the names of our major trade acquisitions are. Ivan Rodrigez is blessed with "Pudge" as a nickname. If he had that nickname in any other respectable sport, there's no way he would  have gotten to where he is today. Xavier Nady's name begins with an X and that's just plain weird. If this requires any further explanation then this blog might not be for you.

In a totally, unrelated note, I just watched The Root Of All Evil on Comedy Central and blogging was officially declared the root of all evil. Congratulations, you're going to hell.

I will never pay $5 for a slice of pizza

Not even in the year 2023. Never.

Suggestions for 'douchette' status:
Melissa Rivers
Michelle Malkin
Sarah Jessica Parker

Nope, not punk at all

Is it possible for girls to be labled as douchebags? The current ruling at work is they can but only if "douchette" is used. Either way, this is all happening because of Avril Lavigne, who is my first nominee for douchette status. More to come on this late breaking development...

Blah

That's how my stomach feels after no solid for four and a half days. The good things is that's the only part of my body that seems to be struggling from this wacky diet. I seem to have lost a little bit of weight and I've proven to myself that I do indeed have some semblance of will power remaining. That being said, I think I've done enough damage to myself and it's time to eat some sweet, sweet... ANYTHING! It's friday which means free pizza at work is imminent and it's going to be a challenge to stay away from it. But I don't feel like instantly undoing all of the good things I've done for my body this week so I'll most likely try to stick to fruits and vegatables today and possibly the whole weekend. Or I could just freak out and get cheese fries. What's the written translation of Homer Simpson salivating? That's me. Right now. This very moment. As you're reading this. Now!

You can just go ahead and ignore Bob Costas

Why?

If you are actually posing that question in response to the title of this entry, then you must be Bob Costas. No, actually you are Bob Costas. Seriously, a bag of schillings to anybody who earnestly replied "Why?" when informed they had the inalienable right to ignore Bob Costas.

Without delving too far into this matter, I mean to suggest there are a few main points you, the loyal reader, can gleam. As a quick aside, I should mention that Bob Costas is the man who will more than likely be the emissary extraordinaire of the upcoming 2008 Summer Olympics. You may have seen him on NBC the last 15 years. He's pretty short, occasionally smiles. Yes, that is him you're picturing now. Consider this somewhat of a continuation from James' earlier Olympic themed post, substituting his research and fact finding ability for my terse and reasonably vapid opinions about the topic at hand.

Olympic ideas!

1. Bob Costas is a hack. Before you start with the Jay Leno mantra of, "Oh, he sure does try though!", consider that there are tons, literally pound after pound of hack flavored human beings out there that do try incredibly hard in their careers, despite inherent journalistic shortcomings such as ignorance, aloofness, and inability to really say anything truthful at all. Bill O'Reilly is one example that comes to mind. I suppose Marv Albert, John Tesh and that Asian lady from Big Brother could also be added to the list. I could write a dissertation on how Costas' failure to be either a person or a reporter have hurt sport over the years, but I can comfortably sum it up by stating that he is clueless, kind of cocky, and extremely confused about himself, people, the world, and well, sports.

2. The Olympics will disappoint you in at least one semi-important regard.

3. McDonald's and Coca-Cola make their long awaited push to control all advertising, crush the soul of anything good that comes out of the Olympics, and impose their not-so-dynamic and utterly homogeneous will upon the entire world, while simultaneously veiling it in a grandiose claim of "See, free trade does work!".

4. Barack Obama will enter the 400 x 4 relay at the last second, substitute himself for the entire American team, and break 5 world records in one day. His sweat will inadvertently spell "yes we can" across the width of the track, and an iron sculpture of his teeth will be built in honor of the feat. The phrase, "The first black...", will be heard 731, 000 times during the next 4 hours of television.

Best. Sport. Ever.

One of the many perks of working in a humongous office building is the little tv displaying news tidbits in the elevators. There are numerous stories up there every day ranging from pointless to interesting to amazing. I saw one earlier that transcends all of those generic adjectives.

Did you know that Dueling Pistols was an Olympic sport in 1906? How did they do this you ask? It's simple really. Said duellers simply fired their pistols at mannequins wearing targets for clothes. Aside from the obvious brilliance of awarding medals for possessing an outstanding athletic ability to kill people, the really fascinating part to me is trying to figure out how these people trained. While logic dictates the distinguished gentlemen participating in this sadly defunct event spent a considerable amount of time serving up lead sandwiches to unusally large tree trunks, I'd like to imagine these Olympians going downtown with little more than a pistol, a leather glove and a warped sense of righteousness. Unfortunately, this was already a solid century after the famous Hamilton-Burr duel so I'll go ahead and assume these duelists were cowards and/or bored hunters hicks.

I also have to ask, how did they settle disputes in dueling pistol competitions? It must have been damn near impossible to get into a pistol dueling argument without it resulting in some form of duel. Alternatively, I suppose formal debates were the equalizer of choice.

P.S: In addition to Dueling Pistols, the 1906 Olympics also proudly awarded medals for Tug Of War. To learn more about the 1906 Olympics, you can go to the only webiste that matters.

Wow

I was planning on keeping my Wikipedia links confined to sandwiches and sandwich related material but some things are too disturbing to keep to myself. Give this a gander:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prussian_Blue_(American_duo*

Now isn't that interesting? Awwwww! They're like little Aryan cadets! Now, for all of you sane, reasonable people out there here's some nice wholesome sandwich material to ponder:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rye_bread

God Bless America!

*Thanks to Cracked for turning me onto this.

Sweet!

WARNING: This is a pointless, mildly entertaining story that I will totally forigve you for skipping over if you choose to do so.

In honor of my wonderful venture of self-starvation, it seems like a good time to blog about pizza. Similar to Pizza Hut's Dark Knight themed pizza, Domino's has been heavily pushing "The Gotham City Pizza" which is "shrouded in darkness" and "cloaked in pepperoni" according the their website which I refuse to link to. The pizza is advertised as having 50% more pepperoni than a regular pizza and, in a glorious moment of sloth and gluttony, my friend I decided to order one with buffalo wings on the side. Much to our dismay, Domino's didn't have pepperoni. Let me say that again in case you missed it. Domino's Pizza, the largest pizza chain in the country and possibly the world, did not have pepperoni. How could this happen? I don't even know what the equivalent to this is. I'd even forgive Starbucks for running out of milk.

After unsuccessfully trying to call the other Domino's in the area (Domino's automatically sends you to the nearest location in order to save you the inconvenience of using your brain for ten freaking seconds!) we finally gave up and ordered Papa John's in hopes that we could get a pizza with double pepperoni and still get wings. At this point it should be noted that the last time I got Papa John's I got food poisoning and missed work. And in the wonderful world of hourly rates that I exist in missing work equals losing money. Anywho, an hour later our pizza arrives, I went outside to pick it up, I buzzed my friend to come get me, the door closed behind him (which it rarely if ever does on its own) and we were locked out. Wonderful. Sure enough, after ordering a pizza with double pepperoni on the whole pizza and mushrooms one half, we got a half pepperoni, half mushroom pizza that could never be mistaken for having double pepperoni. This disappointment went nicely with the bland, mild wings. Two hours and about 12-15 cigarettes later, my very disgruntled roommate arrived to let us in. Pepperoni ruined my day. I'm never ordering from pizza chains again. Never ever ever. I'm so hungry right now. I wonder where the nearest Pizza Hut is.

Terrible things I do to myself

I'm currently in the middle of Day 3 of The Master Cleanse which means I'm currently in the middle of Day 3 of not eating solid food. For those of you unfamiliar, The Master Cleanse basically entails drinking lemon juice and very little else for ten days. The actual purpose of this "diet" is to detox but like Beyonce I'm doing it to lose weight. Hey, if there's one thing I know about this world- and I know at least two things- it's that you should always do what attractive people do. And Beyonce sure is attractive.
I'm hungry! The good things is that the lemonade actually gives you enough energy to get through the day. The recipe is:

6 tablespoons lemon or lime juice
6 tablespoons maple syrup (the real stuff)
1/2 tablespoon cayenne pepper
1 litre of water

Drink 2 litres a day and that's it. This doesn't sound particularly appetizing but after a few sips you realize that maple syrup is like totally scrumptious. Also limes are cheaper and taste better then lemons so I'm sticking with that. My stomach just rumbled. I'm probably going to gain all the weight back once this is over. But I've got a surplus of free time and a deficit of will power so this could at least help me build some of that, what's it called? Oh, yeah, self esteem. Plus I figure I will be much more inspired to go to the gym at a greater frequency if I'm trying to keep the weight off as opposed to trying to lose the gut. I'll try and do daily updates on how I feel. For now I'm gonna day dream about chicken salad sandwiches.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I've been very careful about not swearing here, but every rule should have an exception. As if I didn't hate Times Square enough, I got the wonderful experience of having what can only be described as stank-ass water mysteriously fall off a lamppost directly onto the top of my head. I was thrilled to find that not only had I been doused in water, but the water had a lovely brown tint to it. This tint must have surely come from what seemed to be several chunks of weed resin in the water/my head. With all the possibilities for those chunks, I honestly hope it was resin. I suppose it beats bird shit. That being said, I'm really looking forward to going through the whole work day reeking of pot. Nothing says professionalism like recreational drug use!

I have no idea how that "water" fell off the lamppost or why the fuck it was there in the first place. Fuck Times Square. I've endured so much bullshit from this neighborhood. I didn't need shit water to ruin it for me. Couldn't it have at least hit some fat, fanny pack toting tourist? Scare those filthy pests away for good. I mean, they do make larger, slower targets. Fuck this place. I apologize for my foul language.

Wikipedia

I know I'm waaaaaaay too late to hop on this bandwagon, but I must profess my love for Wikipedia. I love it. You should too. Seriously, can anybody name me a greater non-porn website in the history of the internet? I'm considering offering some kind of prize to the person that can do this. Anything better than Wikipedia has to be worth money.

I don't even explore the main page or any of the spinoffs. But even the simplest of searches can lead to an endless progression of useless to semi-useless knowledge. Do you want to know about sandwiches? Here's all you'll ever need:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sandwich

On a related note, I recently searched for Wikipedia on Wikipedia and was extremely disappointed to find that the world did not not blow up, vanish, spontaneously combust or harm itself in any other way.

It All Comes Down To This

Every year I end up with a small selection of films I designate as my make or break movies of the year. Once they fall into this category, they must be amazing to fulfill my expectations for the year. I usually end up hedging my bets* enough to endure one bust without losing all faith in the motion picture business. For example, last year Spiderman 3 was a dud but it didn't matter because There Will Be Blood and No Country For Old Men were total masterpieces.** However, this year I've got everything riding on* The Dark Knight. If it doesn't live up to my admittedly high standards, nothing will salvage this year in cinema for me. For someone as emotionally fragile as myself, this is a risky but ultimately necessary move. Batman is my favourite superhero by a million miles. Batman (1989) is in my all time Top 10. Batman hates himself more than I do. I can't help from getting giddy over this. With all the hype, the hype and, oh yeah, the hype, this movie didn't even have to look good for me to get sucked into the mass hysteria. The fact that it might very well be the best picture of the year only sweetens the deal. So here's hoping The Dark Knight doesn't break my heart.

Did you know Heath Ledger died? I bet Bin Laden even heard about that one.

*Yes, those are poker/gambling analogies. I'm writing this at work so cut me some slack. At least I didn't use the phrase "all my eggs in one basket" or "all-in." All of the sudden those don't seem so bad anymore, huh?

**For the record, I believe it's socially and artistically acceptable to call films of that caliber masterpieces without the slightest concern of seeming hackneyed or predictable. My use of "for the record" is a different matter altogether.

Coming Soon: I too have a Dark Knight related pizza story. Pepperoni ruined my day. And not in the way you're thinking it did.

No no, not this!!!

I will really try to keep my posts relating in any way shape or form to baseball to an absolute minimum after today. Hopefully this will also be the last time I choose to use the phrase "way, shape, or form" in print ever again as well.

I played pool instead of watching the All-Star game yesterday, which apparently went to 15 innings and unbeknownst to me was still on when I got home after dropping both games of cutthroat. Still I haven't the faintest regret, especially since they never got to the point where second basemen started pitching, which I'm pretty sure is the entire point and master plan of baseball that no one has actually realized yet.

On what Scott Van Pelt deemed "the slowest sports day of the year", baseball analysts have seized on this game as a clear symptomatic problem of what's wrong with baseball. "The system must be changed!!!" was a common theme echoed today. The national league manager Clint Hurdle (of the Rockies???) claimed he was forced to do "Chinese arithmetic" during the game.
Terry Franconia (AL manager from the Red Sox) stated that "the last two hours weren't even that much fun".

Wow. Managers having to make decisions, while staying up past midnight. Unexpected things happening in a baseball game, causing a mild amount of surprise and indecision. Dear God I knew the Mayans were right. You can all book your 2012 deluxe spa treatments now, because the world is ending. The all star game was a little wacky, and thus America's pastime has imploded, leaving behind a bloody trail of John Kruks and Mike Lowells who still yearn for those simpler times when men sipped highballs at 2 in the afternoon, blacks didn't run track at the Olympics, and baseball managers never needed to move in a game unless it was to avoid spitting on their knee.

Sometimes I feel like John McCain is an omnipotent spirit far greater than any of us could have imagined, and has pervaded the minds and souls of everyone on television, filling the universe with sweet 'ol conventional wisdom.

Summer blockbuster

Pizza Hut has a new commercial that ties in with the forthcoming "Dark Knight" movie, the 6th feature film starring the Batman character, or as a mid level 1920's policeman might say,
"The bat man".

The commercial basically features a young lady attempting to order her favorite pie when she's suddenly and unexpectedly thrown into a tense conversation with Batman and the Joker, a technological innovation realized only with magic of... editing!


Heath Ledger is dead. But he sure is used in a Pizza Hut commercial. Without venturing too far into the sordid depths of analyzing the creativity of television commercials, the entire business is pretty mundane, about what you might expect from a Pizza Hut commercial if you were in fact enough of a nerd to be validated about your preconceived notions of originality in Pizza Hut commercials. Surely, Ledger threw away all rights to do otherwise long before the film even finished production, but in reiterating my incredibly obvious observation from earlier, Heath Ledger is in fact dead.

So I ask, hopefully without sounding too much like Dan Abrams: Is this wrong? And if you are not the least surprised, can you still be slightly offended, disgusted, or perturbed? To me it just seems really obvious that Pizza Hut shouldn't do this, or maybe I am incredibly clueless to the way advertising and finance intertwine in American business, and thus it is really obvious that Pizza Hut should do this, because having a commercial without the Joker would just be really senseless. What if circumstances were different? Is it possible that one might be more offended if Ledger had died after his plane was shot down by a Walmart executive while flying into Chad to deliver free ranged chicken and hemp blankets? Just a query.

One has to question...

What has my life come to when the 11 year old on the train is more fly than me? I even had a polo shirt on. But this kid had a brand new red polo and pristine white Jordans with red and black trim to match his equally fresh Blazers hat. He even had on those trendy (two years and still popular!) plaid shorts to trump my tattered jeans. This might be the turning point that finally pushes me to revamp my wardrobe.

Whats Hot: Liking Barack Obama for anything except his political views

What's Not: Moms with tramp stamps