My infatuation with the intern from the Knicks trial is over. Despite the fact that she looked like a girl I may or may not have had sexual relations with (I was hammered and can’t remember anything beyond midnight and woke up at her apartment, see my greatest hits), I realized that we could never work because I would not be able to avoid asking too many dumbass questions about that tryst that would eventually piss her off. Among the top questions on my list are:
- Do you still think Marbury still deserves his self awarded title “Coney Island’s Finest”?
- I always think of Starbury as a “shoot first” type of player? Is this assumption still valid? (You know what I mean)
- If this assumption is not valid, maybe Steph would be better served as the point guard of the Liberty so he pass the ball every once in awhile instead of dribbling it all over the goddamn court.
- I know Bassie probably does it, but did Steph put a gun to your head while you had consensual sex in the back of the truck like Richie Apriel did with Janice Soprano in season 2? (That question pained me as much as it did you because I had the mental recollection of that scene and it was not pretty.) Just trying to see if that type of thing runs in the family. I think Bassie probably does this by accident. “Oh, sorry, there’s a gun lying right there. I probably should move it before you lie face down, ass up on that.”
- Did Marbury wear his $15 Starbury’s to the strip club? I’m not sure which would be funnier. Marbury not wearing his signature shoes out, leaving that to the “common folk” or him actually wearing them to the Mt. Vernon strip club. I made a firm decision tonight that if I’m ever at a strip club wearing $15 sneakers, it’s because I’m getting one last look at titties before I ride the bullet train to a coffin because my life sucks so much that I’m out socially with $15 sneakers. (It’s a circular reference, but work with me)
- Have you ever slept with Nate Robinson because that seems like it would be a hell of a story? Did he “lob the ball to himself” 17 times before he got it to work? Judging by his on court performance, I imagine he wasn’t too concerned with you getting off. True or un-true? (No response on Nate’s sexual deviancies could surprise me. I honestly picture him jumping onto the bed Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka style onto his groupies because he’s Nate freakin’ Robinson and it just seems like something he’d do.) Actually, upon further review, I think he has a diving board above his bed, like that chick in Hot Shots: Part Duex has.
- Why not David Lee? (I will continue to advocate for more playing time for that man until the day I die)
- Why are you still talking to me? I’ve used consultant speak throughout this conversation, threw in a Microsoft Excel reference and used the 2006 Slam Dunk Contest as a sexual euphemism. Do I not rate a 10 out of 10 on the dork scale to you? No, I don’t? And you have no problems with me asking about Marbury? Ok, this relationship might work. (Note to self: It’s not emotionally healthy to base a relationship around cheap jokes about the sexual lives of the New York Knicks. But in the grand scheme of things, this might be a step in the right direction for my “emotionally constipated” ass.) Just as long as we agree on this: if we do get married, I get to cite the train wreck that is the New York Knicks franchise as the thing that brought us together. That and the fact that I have broke the record for most black people at an Irish wedding previously held by David Caruso in “King of New York.” (Judging by your contingent, you too are familiar with the black community. Yes, I’m sure they’re just your “friends”.) You’re ok with that? Ok, I’m back infatuating over you.
Update: My infatuation with the Knicks Trial Girl has been halted. I have moved on to Hope Solo, US Women’s soccer team goalie, in my random chick, 3 day infatuation search. You can brood all you want with me. I will not discuss Star Wars. I think this could work.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Barney's Greatest Hits - September 30th
As promised, I’m giving you Barney’s Greatest Hits because I work too much and have no good recent drinking stories (that and the fact that I can drink liquor for 5 hours straight and still make sound decisions. It’s hard to do dumb shit when it takes you 8 hours to get to that state). And in honor of this one year anniversary of it, here’s a scenario that would only happen to me (It’s not that this is such a great story that the date sticks out in my head. It’s that my job requires me to work around the government fiscal year (that goes October 1-September 30) so the end of the year is crazy. September 30th is always a day for celebration as long as I keep this current, soul destroying job).
I’m at work on a Saturday and we’re already planning a night out for everyone on our project (there’s 35 people on the project, 10 under the age of 30). We plan on meeting up at 8 since people are supposed to start getting off at 7. Me and Em leave at 5:30 and start immediately drinking shots of vodka while chasing with beers. We weren’t as bad as Stan Man who left at 3 to go to a concert (and have absinthe. More on that later). Around 8 people start showing up and we’re pretty hammered. Doh Boy (from West Virginia horse racing fame) buys us a shot of sambuka. I take it because its my policy to never to refuse alcohol, but sambuka is a candidate to be eventually be my first violation. I make several comments, most of which involve the word “bullshit” and this is the last time I had a clear memory of this night.
We end up leaving the first bar and going to another. Stan Man shows up and his first words are, “Dude, I’m so fucked up, I’m on absinthe.” I think my reaction was, well, the bar has officially been raised. Let’s do shots. I’m not too sure of that because it becomes hazy at this point. I do know that Doh Boy came with us to this establishment that has over 300 beers for sale and bought the first round. Not just any beer, but cinnamon flavored beer. That set me off. Already pissed about the sambuka, I was honestly considering fighting the man because of this cinnamon beer. So like any potential pugulent, I started throwing ice at him. Me and Stan Man start throwing ice from a random ice chest that I assume was used for storing beer. Empty at this point in the night, its being used to make Doh Boy’s life a living hell.
That’s when the security got involved. We were told to “cut it out” before we were “removed from the establishment”. Me and Stan Man considered this an affront to our sobriety and a challenge. So picture this: Barney, in a state that is altered by 5 hours of hard drinking (By my standards. Shots every 20 minutes chased with beers will get me to bad decision status in 4 hours. It just requires a lot of fucking shots), and Stan Man, fucked up off absinthe. We’re trying to play it cool in front of security who obviously have a hard on to stop people from throwing ice. But we’re motherfuckin’ Barney and Stan Man, we don’t play by they’re so called “rules”. So we continue throwing ice at Doh Boy. This anger security and we are escorted from the ice area (note: We were not thrown out of the establishment because we’re motherfuckin’ Barney and Stan Man. We’ve get preferential treatment at this bar, most notably the time we took a table for 6 over a group of six because the waiter knew us, and knew together, we’d spend more than the six combined. We have respect at a bar that serves 200 people a night.) I continue making cinnamon beer jokes to Doh Boy and his girlfriend. A year later and I still hate that cinnamon fuckin’ beer.
Eventually we leave the bar and Stan Man, Em and I are on the train home. Stan Man is scaring homeless people at this point with his incessant rants about the company we work for and how he’s going to leave (apparently, this was absinthe induced, which he continually reminded us of: “Dude, I’m on absinthe.”). Me and Em leave the train in a manner described later as “blissful” by the Stan Man (not that he remembers, this is from a camera phone recollection.) We go back to her place and the next thing I know, its 11 am and I’m watching a re-run of Best Week Ever.
That’s when I get a call from my manager which I ignore and let go to voicemail. Because she’s not considerate of others, she leaves an ominous voicemail that is up to you to interpret: “Barney, call me back as soon as you get this.” Considering the night I had and the fact that management knew of this activity and categorized it as “team building”, I’m assuming the worst. My first thought is that some one else had a really rough night and is in the hospital. My second thought is that other people saw me and assumed the worst, that I was in a ditch somewhere and management was just concerned about my well being (this pissed me off because I’m motherfuckin’ Barney. I walk off bad nights like I walk off multiple sprained ankles in the same game. Give me some credit.).
So being the fool that I am, I call back assuming that I’m just checking in to make sure I’m alive. Contrary to my original assumption, I’m being asked to meet this manager at our office because she’s lost her badge and needs someone to get her into the building. Thus, she is asking for my address so she can stop by my apartment to pick up my badge. This presents a problem, considering I’m not at my apartment and I’m at a coworkers place in an area I’m not familiar with. So the game began.
Being as hungover as possible, I began to play stupid with someone who was lucid and sober. Mistake # 1. There was only so long I could play the dedicated employee who will meet you at the office to let you in on my day off (plus, this was the perfect out for an awkward situation. “Sorry, gotta go, they need me at work.”) Unfortunately, my enthusiasm for going back to work gave me away. Eventually it got to the point where she was like “Barney, just give me your address, I have (insert some GPS feature here) and will be by in 30 minutes.”
Now she’s calling my bullshit and I have no response. I have to respond, “I’m not at my house, I’m near (insert random metro station here).” The response, “Hold on, I have a call on the other line…Ok Barney, I talked to Joe Blow, he has VPN access, I’ll just do what I need to do at his house. See you tomorrow.”
Relieved that I didn’t have to go to work, I immediately set out cursing my managers name while trying to figure out how I was going to leave gracefully (if anything is my forte, it’s leaving gracefully). Two hours later, I made my escape (as graceful as could be. I think it involved multiple trips to the bathroom after attempting to eat Domino’s pizza. I’m so graceful, I should be a baller-fucking-ina ).
Content that I had negotiated a sticky situation, I went into work on Monday pretty confident. Sure, I had been demolished in front of co-workers, but that wasn’t anything new. I wasn’t hungover on Monday, so I could take anything they could dish out about my drinking habits. Unfortunately, I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught that was about to begin as soon as I sat down at my desk:
“Barney, when I called, you were at (insert random metro station here)?
“Why, yes, I was.” (I’m recollecting my responses here are more dignified)
“Doesn’t Em live right by (insert random metro station)?”
“(In my brain: “Motherfucking bitch. How the fuck did you know that? I will kill your children and piss on their remains) Why yes, it is.”
“HAHHAHAHA, have a fun night, Barney?”
She then proceeded to talk on IM to Em about her Saturday night, which was great. There’s nothing that bolsters a woman’s self-esteem like being called the de-facto office slut (Not that she was. I’m just saying getting called out like that does things to women. At least I think it does. My insight into women is about as vast as my knowledge of why there are communist strippers). So thanks to my douche bag manager, I now have to do a walk of shame around the office and any chance of getting some in the future is put on hold because its not good for appearences, all because I couldn’t hold on 15 seconds longer for Joe Blow with VPN access to call back. Ain’t that my luck?
I’m at work on a Saturday and we’re already planning a night out for everyone on our project (there’s 35 people on the project, 10 under the age of 30). We plan on meeting up at 8 since people are supposed to start getting off at 7. Me and Em leave at 5:30 and start immediately drinking shots of vodka while chasing with beers. We weren’t as bad as Stan Man who left at 3 to go to a concert (and have absinthe. More on that later). Around 8 people start showing up and we’re pretty hammered. Doh Boy (from West Virginia horse racing fame) buys us a shot of sambuka. I take it because its my policy to never to refuse alcohol, but sambuka is a candidate to be eventually be my first violation. I make several comments, most of which involve the word “bullshit” and this is the last time I had a clear memory of this night.
We end up leaving the first bar and going to another. Stan Man shows up and his first words are, “Dude, I’m so fucked up, I’m on absinthe.” I think my reaction was, well, the bar has officially been raised. Let’s do shots. I’m not too sure of that because it becomes hazy at this point. I do know that Doh Boy came with us to this establishment that has over 300 beers for sale and bought the first round. Not just any beer, but cinnamon flavored beer. That set me off. Already pissed about the sambuka, I was honestly considering fighting the man because of this cinnamon beer. So like any potential pugulent, I started throwing ice at him. Me and Stan Man start throwing ice from a random ice chest that I assume was used for storing beer. Empty at this point in the night, its being used to make Doh Boy’s life a living hell.
That’s when the security got involved. We were told to “cut it out” before we were “removed from the establishment”. Me and Stan Man considered this an affront to our sobriety and a challenge. So picture this: Barney, in a state that is altered by 5 hours of hard drinking (By my standards. Shots every 20 minutes chased with beers will get me to bad decision status in 4 hours. It just requires a lot of fucking shots), and Stan Man, fucked up off absinthe. We’re trying to play it cool in front of security who obviously have a hard on to stop people from throwing ice. But we’re motherfuckin’ Barney and Stan Man, we don’t play by they’re so called “rules”. So we continue throwing ice at Doh Boy. This anger security and we are escorted from the ice area (note: We were not thrown out of the establishment because we’re motherfuckin’ Barney and Stan Man. We’ve get preferential treatment at this bar, most notably the time we took a table for 6 over a group of six because the waiter knew us, and knew together, we’d spend more than the six combined. We have respect at a bar that serves 200 people a night.) I continue making cinnamon beer jokes to Doh Boy and his girlfriend. A year later and I still hate that cinnamon fuckin’ beer.
Eventually we leave the bar and Stan Man, Em and I are on the train home. Stan Man is scaring homeless people at this point with his incessant rants about the company we work for and how he’s going to leave (apparently, this was absinthe induced, which he continually reminded us of: “Dude, I’m on absinthe.”). Me and Em leave the train in a manner described later as “blissful” by the Stan Man (not that he remembers, this is from a camera phone recollection.) We go back to her place and the next thing I know, its 11 am and I’m watching a re-run of Best Week Ever.
That’s when I get a call from my manager which I ignore and let go to voicemail. Because she’s not considerate of others, she leaves an ominous voicemail that is up to you to interpret: “Barney, call me back as soon as you get this.” Considering the night I had and the fact that management knew of this activity and categorized it as “team building”, I’m assuming the worst. My first thought is that some one else had a really rough night and is in the hospital. My second thought is that other people saw me and assumed the worst, that I was in a ditch somewhere and management was just concerned about my well being (this pissed me off because I’m motherfuckin’ Barney. I walk off bad nights like I walk off multiple sprained ankles in the same game. Give me some credit.).
So being the fool that I am, I call back assuming that I’m just checking in to make sure I’m alive. Contrary to my original assumption, I’m being asked to meet this manager at our office because she’s lost her badge and needs someone to get her into the building. Thus, she is asking for my address so she can stop by my apartment to pick up my badge. This presents a problem, considering I’m not at my apartment and I’m at a coworkers place in an area I’m not familiar with. So the game began.
Being as hungover as possible, I began to play stupid with someone who was lucid and sober. Mistake # 1. There was only so long I could play the dedicated employee who will meet you at the office to let you in on my day off (plus, this was the perfect out for an awkward situation. “Sorry, gotta go, they need me at work.”) Unfortunately, my enthusiasm for going back to work gave me away. Eventually it got to the point where she was like “Barney, just give me your address, I have (insert some GPS feature here) and will be by in 30 minutes.”
Now she’s calling my bullshit and I have no response. I have to respond, “I’m not at my house, I’m near (insert random metro station here).” The response, “Hold on, I have a call on the other line…Ok Barney, I talked to Joe Blow, he has VPN access, I’ll just do what I need to do at his house. See you tomorrow.”
Relieved that I didn’t have to go to work, I immediately set out cursing my managers name while trying to figure out how I was going to leave gracefully (if anything is my forte, it’s leaving gracefully). Two hours later, I made my escape (as graceful as could be. I think it involved multiple trips to the bathroom after attempting to eat Domino’s pizza. I’m so graceful, I should be a baller-fucking-ina ).
Content that I had negotiated a sticky situation, I went into work on Monday pretty confident. Sure, I had been demolished in front of co-workers, but that wasn’t anything new. I wasn’t hungover on Monday, so I could take anything they could dish out about my drinking habits. Unfortunately, I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught that was about to begin as soon as I sat down at my desk:
“Barney, when I called, you were at (insert random metro station here)?
“Why, yes, I was.” (I’m recollecting my responses here are more dignified)
“Doesn’t Em live right by (insert random metro station)?”
“(In my brain: “Motherfucking bitch. How the fuck did you know that? I will kill your children and piss on their remains) Why yes, it is.”
“HAHHAHAHA, have a fun night, Barney?”
She then proceeded to talk on IM to Em about her Saturday night, which was great. There’s nothing that bolsters a woman’s self-esteem like being called the de-facto office slut (Not that she was. I’m just saying getting called out like that does things to women. At least I think it does. My insight into women is about as vast as my knowledge of why there are communist strippers). So thanks to my douche bag manager, I now have to do a walk of shame around the office and any chance of getting some in the future is put on hold because its not good for appearences, all because I couldn’t hold on 15 seconds longer for Joe Blow with VPN access to call back. Ain’t that my luck?
Saturday, September 29, 2007
What are you so mad about?
"I’ma tell you why I’m so mad. They making five hundred thousand dollar videos, riding around in hot cars. I’m still livin’ with my moms know what I’m sayin?"
You know what you need. A top 7 list. Why? Because for some reason I forgot (my mind is usual like a steel cage if you ignore the multiple concussions and alcoholism) that Top 7 lists are easy and a staple of the actual Barney Show. Some things you need to know why I’m writing this. I’m at work at 1:45 on a Saturday. This is my 13th consecutive day working. Most of them have been 12+ hour days. You figure it out. I’m also working with idiots. I had to do a diagram the other day to explain the complicated process of 400 + 350 = 750. I had print outs and everything. So without further adu, I present the Top 7 Reasons I’m Pissed Off:
7. Their idea of lunch is what can best be described as gazpacho. Yes, someone really made what I think is gazpacho and brought it into work to be a communal lunch.
6. They’ve blocked fantasy football websites on the office’s network. If one of my neighbors wi fi isn’t accessible when I get home, I’m stuck with Clinton Portis at running back (nothing against my man, but its tough to put up stats when you have a bye week).
5. Notre Dame is currently down 23 to fucking zero.
4. I just calculated that my company got $5600 profit off of my services this week (you read that right, profit, not revenue. Revenue was over $11,000. I can draw a diagram for you if you want). This company pays me approximately $1000 a week before taxes. I think I’m getting fucked.
3. I just did another calculation and figured out that based on the hours I’ve been working, I was making more money per hour five years ago refereeing 8 years playing basketball.
2. I got into the office at 9 this morning. Most of my clients decided to sleep in and didn’t get in until noon on the one weekend a year that they work.
1. Fucking gazpacho. Who does that?
And since its 3:37 and I’m still at work, let’s give you 7 more reasons I’m pissed:
7. I can’t get into our system. It’s kind of hard to help people when your system just crashed.
6. Traffic going home is going to be a mess. There was a triathlon of some sort this morning and they shut down most of the roads in DC. This would have been nice if you know, someone had said something about this. I read two papers yesterday and there was not one mention of this triathlon. That would have helped.
5. The gospel music someone in the office is playing.
4. Apparently bringing your kids to work is productive. Having them run around the office is even more productive. At least my dad had the good sense to make me file some shit for him and pay me $2 at the end of the day. Made me feel like I accomplished something and he didn’t have to spend a minute in the file room. Kids today have no work ethic.
3. I can’t get drunk immediately upon arriving. Some one from work left they’re power cord to their laptop at the office and since I’m the one who’s nearest to him, I was nominated to take it and he’ll stop by and pick it up. FUCK.
2. The fucking gazpacho smell is still prevalent.
1. I went out to get food that wasn’t gazpacho and walked right into a war protest march that consisted of a bunch of white people yelling “Fight the Power.” The irony that they were escorted by police on their permit approved parade route while doing so was lost on them. You can't fight the power when its escorting you. Fucking liberal douchebags.
You know what you need. A top 7 list. Why? Because for some reason I forgot (my mind is usual like a steel cage if you ignore the multiple concussions and alcoholism) that Top 7 lists are easy and a staple of the actual Barney Show. Some things you need to know why I’m writing this. I’m at work at 1:45 on a Saturday. This is my 13th consecutive day working. Most of them have been 12+ hour days. You figure it out. I’m also working with idiots. I had to do a diagram the other day to explain the complicated process of 400 + 350 = 750. I had print outs and everything. So without further adu, I present the Top 7 Reasons I’m Pissed Off:
7. Their idea of lunch is what can best be described as gazpacho. Yes, someone really made what I think is gazpacho and brought it into work to be a communal lunch.
6. They’ve blocked fantasy football websites on the office’s network. If one of my neighbors wi fi isn’t accessible when I get home, I’m stuck with Clinton Portis at running back (nothing against my man, but its tough to put up stats when you have a bye week).
5. Notre Dame is currently down 23 to fucking zero.
4. I just calculated that my company got $5600 profit off of my services this week (you read that right, profit, not revenue. Revenue was over $11,000. I can draw a diagram for you if you want). This company pays me approximately $1000 a week before taxes. I think I’m getting fucked.
3. I just did another calculation and figured out that based on the hours I’ve been working, I was making more money per hour five years ago refereeing 8 years playing basketball.
2. I got into the office at 9 this morning. Most of my clients decided to sleep in and didn’t get in until noon on the one weekend a year that they work.
1. Fucking gazpacho. Who does that?
And since its 3:37 and I’m still at work, let’s give you 7 more reasons I’m pissed:
7. I can’t get into our system. It’s kind of hard to help people when your system just crashed.
6. Traffic going home is going to be a mess. There was a triathlon of some sort this morning and they shut down most of the roads in DC. This would have been nice if you know, someone had said something about this. I read two papers yesterday and there was not one mention of this triathlon. That would have helped.
5. The gospel music someone in the office is playing.
4. Apparently bringing your kids to work is productive. Having them run around the office is even more productive. At least my dad had the good sense to make me file some shit for him and pay me $2 at the end of the day. Made me feel like I accomplished something and he didn’t have to spend a minute in the file room. Kids today have no work ethic.
3. I can’t get drunk immediately upon arriving. Some one from work left they’re power cord to their laptop at the office and since I’m the one who’s nearest to him, I was nominated to take it and he’ll stop by and pick it up. FUCK.
2. The fucking gazpacho smell is still prevalent.
1. I went out to get food that wasn’t gazpacho and walked right into a war protest march that consisted of a bunch of white people yelling “Fight the Power.” The irony that they were escorted by police on their permit approved parade route while doing so was lost on them. You can't fight the power when its escorting you. Fucking liberal douchebags.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Knicks Trial
Note: This was in fact written before Sports Guys Knicks analysis, I was just too swamped at work to post. Not too much is the same though. And I did this completely off the top of my head, no references needed.
You should be disappointed in me that I haven’t said anything about the Knicks sexual harassment case. I really dropped the ball on this one. In case you’re not familiar, here were some of the things we learned:
A Knicks intern dated Stephon Marbury’s cousin. The said intern had consensual sex with Starbury in the back of a truck after meeting up at a strip club. Coney Island’s Finest’s pick up line was “You getting in the truck?” (I knew I should have worked a lot harder on my jumper. All those hours in the gym would more than be worth it if that’s all I needed as a pick up line.)
But don’t say Starbury isn’t a classy dude. He did text her later on saying “I want some more of that.”
Isiah Thomas revealed that its ok for a black man to refer to a woman as a bitch, but a white guy doing it is worse (I suddenly feel like Chad from the Mad Real World for some reason. Let’s hope they don’t put David Lee in a sleeper hold because when he wakes up, his anus will really hurt).
James Dolan fires people involved in sexual harassment cases without consulting his lawyers (He probably did it while saying, “I’m James Dolan bitch.” Wait, we’ll need a ruling on this…Isiah can James Dolan call someone a bitch even though he’s white?)
Stephon Marbury doesn’t take being on the stand seriously and then commented on sportswriters shoes while leaving the courtroom (this coming from a man who hawks $15 sneakers).
Those are the main points. There’s some things about sexual harassment in there, but they’re not important. I think we’ve figured out that Steph is bat shit crazy this summer (even Arenas called him nuts, which is like me saying someone has a drinking problem). Between this, his random interviews and blog, I think Steph’s taking Bassie’s fall a little hard. He’s not like eccentric crazy, more like he’s off his pills crazy.
But enough about Steph. I think I’ve found a way to relieve my stress. Anytime I wonder how I’m going to get all this stuff done at work, I can just say to myself, “Wait a minute, Isiah can run a premier franchise into the ground, lose millions of dollars, sexually harass whoever he wants and still have job security. They won’t fire me if my TPS report is a little late.” I’ll be sure to cite Zeke when I get referred to management. By the way, if Zach Randolph’s smart, that’ll be his defense for his next sexual assault case.
And finally, I think the big outcome of this court case is that I did a double take when I first saw the intern. She looked like this girl I think I hooked up with (I was absolutely hammered that night. I did wake up on her couch. We’ll delve into this night more when I start churning out episodes of Barney’s greatest drinking hits since I work too many hours to have anything beyond, “I drank for two hours and passed out from exhaustion” lately). So some how this Knick trial has upped my outlook on life: I have to have job security if Zeke can stay employed and I might be able to pull some “Stephon Marbury random one night stand strip club” chicks. Barney, you’re moving up in the world. Next stop, its “I left the office before 5, I see actual sunlight, maybe I’ll try this work/life balance thing I’ve been hearing about.”
You should be disappointed in me that I haven’t said anything about the Knicks sexual harassment case. I really dropped the ball on this one. In case you’re not familiar, here were some of the things we learned:
A Knicks intern dated Stephon Marbury’s cousin. The said intern had consensual sex with Starbury in the back of a truck after meeting up at a strip club. Coney Island’s Finest’s pick up line was “You getting in the truck?” (I knew I should have worked a lot harder on my jumper. All those hours in the gym would more than be worth it if that’s all I needed as a pick up line.)
But don’t say Starbury isn’t a classy dude. He did text her later on saying “I want some more of that.”
Isiah Thomas revealed that its ok for a black man to refer to a woman as a bitch, but a white guy doing it is worse (I suddenly feel like Chad from the Mad Real World for some reason. Let’s hope they don’t put David Lee in a sleeper hold because when he wakes up, his anus will really hurt).
James Dolan fires people involved in sexual harassment cases without consulting his lawyers (He probably did it while saying, “I’m James Dolan bitch.” Wait, we’ll need a ruling on this…Isiah can James Dolan call someone a bitch even though he’s white?)
Stephon Marbury doesn’t take being on the stand seriously and then commented on sportswriters shoes while leaving the courtroom (this coming from a man who hawks $15 sneakers).
Those are the main points. There’s some things about sexual harassment in there, but they’re not important. I think we’ve figured out that Steph is bat shit crazy this summer (even Arenas called him nuts, which is like me saying someone has a drinking problem). Between this, his random interviews and blog, I think Steph’s taking Bassie’s fall a little hard. He’s not like eccentric crazy, more like he’s off his pills crazy.
But enough about Steph. I think I’ve found a way to relieve my stress. Anytime I wonder how I’m going to get all this stuff done at work, I can just say to myself, “Wait a minute, Isiah can run a premier franchise into the ground, lose millions of dollars, sexually harass whoever he wants and still have job security. They won’t fire me if my TPS report is a little late.” I’ll be sure to cite Zeke when I get referred to management. By the way, if Zach Randolph’s smart, that’ll be his defense for his next sexual assault case.
And finally, I think the big outcome of this court case is that I did a double take when I first saw the intern. She looked like this girl I think I hooked up with (I was absolutely hammered that night. I did wake up on her couch. We’ll delve into this night more when I start churning out episodes of Barney’s greatest drinking hits since I work too many hours to have anything beyond, “I drank for two hours and passed out from exhaustion” lately). So some how this Knick trial has upped my outlook on life: I have to have job security if Zeke can stay employed and I might be able to pull some “Stephon Marbury random one night stand strip club” chicks. Barney, you’re moving up in the world. Next stop, its “I left the office before 5, I see actual sunlight, maybe I’ll try this work/life balance thing I’ve been hearing about.”
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Curtis Blows
You like that? That’s what I call a play on words. Get is Curtis Blows? HAHAHA I crack myself up sometimes. And I’m writing this sober. Anyway, this episode is to discuss the media driven rivalry between Kanye and 50. When I first told K-Dog about my intentions to write a blog, he said that rappers should be careful not to do anything stupid (that and to avoid the n-word (this was right around the time of the Imus fiasco)). Well, so far, I haven’t really gotten on rappers too much despite their best intentions. Granted, a lot of people have been acting a fool in the sports world, so that has kept me busy. That and 60 hour work weeks.
If you have to ask who won this, congratulations, you’re an idiot. Kanye beats 50 like me against anyone else in the 170-200 pound bracket in a 7 day drink off. Not only did he outsell Fitty, but he also made a far superior album. Kanye’s isn’t a great album (in fact I think its third out of his three albums), but it’s solid. Kanye has a handful of bangers, a few other listenable ones and one which I have a hard time forgiving him for (Why do you have to make fun of drunk and hot girls, Kanye? You do know that’s my MO when I go out. Probably more of the former than the later, but still. Granted, I know having annoying drunk girls in your car sucks monkey balls. But, don’t do this to me Ye. I’m going to have this going through my head a lot when I go out. And I’ll laugh. Then they’ll ask, ‘what are you laughing at?’ and I’ll either have to pretend I didn’t hear them, or tell them they can’t sing. Like I need another thing hampering me in getting some).
Curtis, on the other hand accomplishes something I didn’t think it could do: be worse than what I expected. I had higher expectations for the Cleveland Browns this year than this album and couldn’t even put 51 up on the Bengals once. There are a few listenable songs, and the rest are pure basura. The beats weren’t even good. And the few that were his lyrics just awful. My personal favorite was, “I call a circle a circle/a square a square.” Congratulations, sir. You have successfully learned what we are trying to teach my daughter who’s all of 19 months.
50’s turned into the Vince Carter of rap. Yeah, he was hot, but now he’s just coasting off that rep, and expecting to be called great. And looking back, I’m not sure he was that great or just hyped incredibly. (Though could you imagine if Vince got shot 9 times? You might hear his cries 15 miles away. 50 claims to not walk with a limp, but you can be damned sure Vince would. He’d probably just become addicted to morphine.)
What’s most troubling to me is the release date. I’m not even mentioning the fact that it was 9/11 (Do we have time for my rap/9/-11 story? If you’ve made it this far I’m assuming you really have nothing to do with your life. So I’ll tell it. After the first plane hit the towers and woke me up, I assumed it was construction going on outside my dorm. I woke up and what song did I put on? That’s right Juicy. The one that goes, “Time to get paid/blow up like the World Trade.” Also, if the attacks had happened 2 hours later, I probably would have been in NYC while it happened. I was planning on heading into the city to pick up The Blueprint on its first day out after my physics class (probably the first time that’s ever been said). Which leads me to my point.) (Wait there’s a point in all of this? I wasn’t prepared for a point here. I thought Barney was just going to talk about how Kanye has destroyed his target audience at bars with the hotness debatable and to set records for most overuse of parenthesis). Shut up remaining parts of my brain. I do have a point. If 50 and Kanye weren’t going to acknowledge that they released it on the anniversary of the biggest tragedy of either of their lifetimes, they could have at least had the common courtesy to acknowledge that they released it on the anniversary of the last classic commercially viable album, which I imagine they were hoping from their releases. The Blueprint came out 6 years before this so called sales war and it wasn’t even mentioned. I don’t know, maybe I’m just tired of the rap game in general and miss good albums. Alright, there’s my point. I’ll go back to bitching about Jon Kitna soon.
I’m going to try and put up more episodes. Writing these on the train might be the only thing that can keep me awake. I fell asleep on the train this morning and woke up 15 minutes beyond my stop. I would have been late for work, if my job didn’t require me to be in an hour before anyone else and leave 2 hours after them.
If you have to ask who won this, congratulations, you’re an idiot. Kanye beats 50 like me against anyone else in the 170-200 pound bracket in a 7 day drink off. Not only did he outsell Fitty, but he also made a far superior album. Kanye’s isn’t a great album (in fact I think its third out of his three albums), but it’s solid. Kanye has a handful of bangers, a few other listenable ones and one which I have a hard time forgiving him for (Why do you have to make fun of drunk and hot girls, Kanye? You do know that’s my MO when I go out. Probably more of the former than the later, but still. Granted, I know having annoying drunk girls in your car sucks monkey balls. But, don’t do this to me Ye. I’m going to have this going through my head a lot when I go out. And I’ll laugh. Then they’ll ask, ‘what are you laughing at?’ and I’ll either have to pretend I didn’t hear them, or tell them they can’t sing. Like I need another thing hampering me in getting some).
Curtis, on the other hand accomplishes something I didn’t think it could do: be worse than what I expected. I had higher expectations for the Cleveland Browns this year than this album and couldn’t even put 51 up on the Bengals once. There are a few listenable songs, and the rest are pure basura. The beats weren’t even good. And the few that were his lyrics just awful. My personal favorite was, “I call a circle a circle/a square a square.” Congratulations, sir. You have successfully learned what we are trying to teach my daughter who’s all of 19 months.
50’s turned into the Vince Carter of rap. Yeah, he was hot, but now he’s just coasting off that rep, and expecting to be called great. And looking back, I’m not sure he was that great or just hyped incredibly. (Though could you imagine if Vince got shot 9 times? You might hear his cries 15 miles away. 50 claims to not walk with a limp, but you can be damned sure Vince would. He’d probably just become addicted to morphine.)
What’s most troubling to me is the release date. I’m not even mentioning the fact that it was 9/11 (Do we have time for my rap/9/-11 story? If you’ve made it this far I’m assuming you really have nothing to do with your life. So I’ll tell it. After the first plane hit the towers and woke me up, I assumed it was construction going on outside my dorm. I woke up and what song did I put on? That’s right Juicy. The one that goes, “Time to get paid/blow up like the World Trade.” Also, if the attacks had happened 2 hours later, I probably would have been in NYC while it happened. I was planning on heading into the city to pick up The Blueprint on its first day out after my physics class (probably the first time that’s ever been said). Which leads me to my point.) (Wait there’s a point in all of this? I wasn’t prepared for a point here. I thought Barney was just going to talk about how Kanye has destroyed his target audience at bars with the hotness debatable and to set records for most overuse of parenthesis). Shut up remaining parts of my brain. I do have a point. If 50 and Kanye weren’t going to acknowledge that they released it on the anniversary of the biggest tragedy of either of their lifetimes, they could have at least had the common courtesy to acknowledge that they released it on the anniversary of the last classic commercially viable album, which I imagine they were hoping from their releases. The Blueprint came out 6 years before this so called sales war and it wasn’t even mentioned. I don’t know, maybe I’m just tired of the rap game in general and miss good albums. Alright, there’s my point. I’ll go back to bitching about Jon Kitna soon.
I’m going to try and put up more episodes. Writing these on the train might be the only thing that can keep me awake. I fell asleep on the train this morning and woke up 15 minutes beyond my stop. I would have been late for work, if my job didn’t require me to be in an hour before anyone else and leave 2 hours after them.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Monday Morning Hangover - Week 3
If this weeks edition of Monday Morning Hangover sounds angry, it’s because I’m writing this at 8:15 at night on the train home. Hooray 12+ hour days!! Anyway, since nothing good came out of this weekend, we’re handing out fuck you’s (and a tribute to one of my favorite cinematic scenes of all time.)
Fuck You Houston Nutt for losing with the best player in the country. At the next place you coach (since you’re obviously getting fired after this season), try and recruit a quarterback who can throw better than an injured retard.
Fuck You the company I work for. You’re having a happy hour on Friday that I will not be able to attend because I will most likely be working late Friday. As if the 60 + hours I’ve worked before Friday at 5 pm wasn’t enough, you had to schedule it at a bar named McFadden’s. $1 drinks + 2 hours = Barney screaming at co-workers, “Darren McFadden is a bad motherfucker. What you know about my boy? Huh, Penn State grads? Oh I forgot. Curtis Enis and Kijana Carter worked out so well. Fuck You. The Big Ten sucks. Go play I-AA.” I was hoping my official pink slip included the words, “Complex against the Big Ten.”
Fuck You Jon Kitna. First you say God healed you’re concussion last week (besides being blasphemous, it’s a little insulting that He didn’t heal any of mine.) Then you go and put up 446 yards against me in fantasy WHILE LOSING BY 5 TOUCHDOWNS. This single performance might be the reason I don’t play fantasy football next year, because if someone loses by 35 I think they should not be allowed to score any points.
Fuck You Multiple Leagues. I hate having to make a decision like, “Well, if Chicago plays well tonight, I still have an outside chance at winning $450. However, if Chicago’s defense plays bad, I don’t get clobbered in fantasy.” Most people would look at this as a win/win situation. I look at it as lose/lose because of my general outlook on life. Plus I hate losing more than enjoy winning. Reason # two I might have to drop fantasy football next year.
Fuck You Joe Gibbs’ play calling. Why was Portis on the sidelines when you’re on the goal line? You could have driven Coughlin one step closer to being fired. You could have kept the Cowboys out of first place by themselves. As a person who drafted Ladell Betts in fantasy, you still shouldn’t have given him the ball there.
Fuck You Media for not letting me know that Wayne Chrebet was getting his number retired this week. I would have driven up to try and scalp a ticket for that. Wayne is the man.
And finally in true 25th Hour shouting at the mirror fashion, Fuck You Barney. Why did you take Denver when you had reservations about it? Why did you accept additional responsibilities at work that will obviously drive you insane? Why have you drank so much the past few months that you’re stomach feels the need to only hold down 500 calories a day? Fuck you douche bag.
I have to give props to my highlight of the week. Speaking of the 25th Hour, let’s have Barry Pepper give the quote: “Fuck the Times, I read the Post.” In the Post’s betting line last week, they had an asterisk next to the Patriots-Bills line. Usually, this is when a game is being played at a neutral or different site (i.e. when Green Bay used to play in Milwaukee occasionally). I scroll down to see what’s up with the location and get, “* Caught Cheating.” That killed me for some reason. I almost spit my coffee on my laptop. Pure genius.
Fuck You Houston Nutt for losing with the best player in the country. At the next place you coach (since you’re obviously getting fired after this season), try and recruit a quarterback who can throw better than an injured retard.
Fuck You the company I work for. You’re having a happy hour on Friday that I will not be able to attend because I will most likely be working late Friday. As if the 60 + hours I’ve worked before Friday at 5 pm wasn’t enough, you had to schedule it at a bar named McFadden’s. $1 drinks + 2 hours = Barney screaming at co-workers, “Darren McFadden is a bad motherfucker. What you know about my boy? Huh, Penn State grads? Oh I forgot. Curtis Enis and Kijana Carter worked out so well. Fuck You. The Big Ten sucks. Go play I-AA.” I was hoping my official pink slip included the words, “Complex against the Big Ten.”
Fuck You Jon Kitna. First you say God healed you’re concussion last week (besides being blasphemous, it’s a little insulting that He didn’t heal any of mine.) Then you go and put up 446 yards against me in fantasy WHILE LOSING BY 5 TOUCHDOWNS. This single performance might be the reason I don’t play fantasy football next year, because if someone loses by 35 I think they should not be allowed to score any points.
Fuck You Multiple Leagues. I hate having to make a decision like, “Well, if Chicago plays well tonight, I still have an outside chance at winning $450. However, if Chicago’s defense plays bad, I don’t get clobbered in fantasy.” Most people would look at this as a win/win situation. I look at it as lose/lose because of my general outlook on life. Plus I hate losing more than enjoy winning. Reason # two I might have to drop fantasy football next year.
Fuck You Joe Gibbs’ play calling. Why was Portis on the sidelines when you’re on the goal line? You could have driven Coughlin one step closer to being fired. You could have kept the Cowboys out of first place by themselves. As a person who drafted Ladell Betts in fantasy, you still shouldn’t have given him the ball there.
Fuck You Media for not letting me know that Wayne Chrebet was getting his number retired this week. I would have driven up to try and scalp a ticket for that. Wayne is the man.
And finally in true 25th Hour shouting at the mirror fashion, Fuck You Barney. Why did you take Denver when you had reservations about it? Why did you accept additional responsibilities at work that will obviously drive you insane? Why have you drank so much the past few months that you’re stomach feels the need to only hold down 500 calories a day? Fuck you douche bag.
I have to give props to my highlight of the week. Speaking of the 25th Hour, let’s have Barry Pepper give the quote: “Fuck the Times, I read the Post.” In the Post’s betting line last week, they had an asterisk next to the Patriots-Bills line. Usually, this is when a game is being played at a neutral or different site (i.e. when Green Bay used to play in Milwaukee occasionally). I scroll down to see what’s up with the location and get, “* Caught Cheating.” That killed me for some reason. I almost spit my coffee on my laptop. Pure genius.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Monday Morning Hangover - Week 2
Alright, another exciting week of football with your favorite alcoholic. I’m not discussing Notre Dam at all this week. I might start punching things. Just know that someone at work tried to tell me that Notre Dame would win. I told her that Michael Hart was a beast and would run over Notre Dame. I hate being right. I didn’t count for the awfulness of Notre Dame’s offense. The genius tag has been officially removed from Chuck. Anyway, I’m just writing random notes as I go in real time starting around 6 on Saturday. I’ll do thoughts on the week at the end.
- Anytime anyone cuts to a DeSean Jackson highlight, I’m stopping what I’m doing immediately. New rule.
- Where on the vengeance scale does Steve Slaton rank against Maryland? For those of you who don’t know, Maryland took back a scholarship it had offered to Mr. Slaton. Since then, he has made it a point of destroying Maryland on Thursday nights. Last year, I think he had 3 touchdowns in the first quarter, including the greatest hesitation move I’ve ever seen. This year, he only had three touchdowns. Slaton is a bad man.
- Plus West Virginia has Noel Devine who was pretty sick against Maryland. He gets bonus points in my book because he lived with Deion Sanders. How many guys have that? I pray that it was like that Nike commercial where Deion lives with Jillian Barbarie and Deion sending him off to two a days. That was one of the highlights of football season 2006 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t08PKbIfuXw). I personally would have asked numerous questions about Deion’s rap career if I lived with him.
- I was a little too excited to watch Arkansas/Alabama because of my boy McFadden. Let’s just say I’m writing this with 2 minutes left in the first quarter and his Heisman campaign is over. Alabama is destroying them. But McFadden is still gaining 5+ yards every run.
- And fuck Nick Saban. His 15 year old niece was on the greatest website ever secpoon.com, a tribute to the great collection of female fans that attend SEC games. Apparently, Mr. Saban wasn’t too thrilled with this and threatened legal action and the site was closed. I can live with him ditching LSU and Miami. But when he shuts down the site that made me decide that if I ever won lotto I would spend my weekends touring the South watching football, that’s where I draw the line. FUCK NICK SABAN.
- Reason # 2,316 ESPN sucks. I woke up Saturday morning wanting to watch SportsCenter. Unfortunately, ESPN and ESPN2 had women’s freakin’ soccer on. And now, they just had a call with a defender from the USA Women’s team, who is apparently a Crimson Tide fan. Because you know what’s missing from my football broadcasts? Soccer strategy, that’s what. FUCK YOU ESPN. (Can you tell I have a bit of bourbon in me?)
- These guest introducers on ESPN needs to stop. I’m close to boycotting the first quarter of games just like I boycott Football in America on NBC until they get rid of Keith Olbermann. Watching Elizabeth Hasselbeck introduce Boston College is painful. More painful, Bob Davie making a Rosie O’Donnel joke. I hate my life right now.
- The only way this could work is if they have OJ announcing USC starting lineups. Will Ferrell would also work for USC, but OJ would be about 27 times better. (“John David Booty will slice up this Nebraska defense.” “CJ Gable is a bucking Bronco in the backfield.”) Reggie Bush should not be doing introductions and focusing on having a half way decent fantasy performance this week. And I hate that USC would have the only acceptable introductions.
- Ok, a drunk Joe Namath introducing Alabama would work as well.
- DJ Hall was ridiculous in the Ark-Ala game. He looked like me in corporate football against fellow tech guys. Just throw it up and he’ll get it. Me (in shape) against programmers is a mismatch.
- McFadden is a fucking beast. He just got hit behind the line of scrimmage. And he took that guy for a 7 yard gain. He’s got 154 at this point. And they just gave him the ball on a third and 8. Fuck a passing game. Holy fucking shit. They went to a direct snap and McFadden ran it in from 7 out. 174 for the game. Heisman is over. This is the best player in America. He’s put this team on his back the second half. And they just did a feature on his Crown Victoria on 28s. I love McFadden.
- McFadden sits out for cramps, Alabama comes back on a ridiculous final drive. A BS pass interference but a ridiculous catch in the end zone. Wilson just chucked it up for grabs and the Alabama receiver (not DJ Hall) caught it. What a game.
- In case anyone forgot FUCK NICK SABAN. USC just went up 35-10 against Nebraska. I’m going to bed. Until tomorrow, stay classy San Diego.
- After reflecting on my run Sunday morning, I decided that the new feature on ESPN with someone related to the school introducing the starters could work, but only with certain people. Here are acceptable introducers in addition to OJ and Will Ferrell:USC: Nick Lachey and Matt Leinhart introducing the team while gazing into each others eyes, Matt Leinhart following his introduction with, “I’ll tell you who’s not starting for USC this year: Brynn Cameron, who’s too busy suing me for additional child support.”
LSU: Shaq, hopefully being introduced as his Louisianan brethren, Neon Beduex.
West Virginia: Pacman Jones
Florida: Erin Andrews in a bikini after a few good meals; J Will, hopefully after a few bong hits.
(A lot more likely: Joakim Noah talking about Dem Gator Boys which my television is already fearing. It might be broken if he’s on there.)
Texas: Kevin Durant (Again, more likely and will result in my television being destroyed: Roger Clemens)
Cal: Marshawn Lynch calling the offense line “Solid”, and following it up with, “it don’t get no better than solid.”
Ohio State: Maurice Clarrett
Penn State: LeVar Arrington while sitting in his chess room; the stadium cleaning crew who don’t have to work anymore thanks to JoPa’s ruling.
Georgia Tech: Stephon Marbury doing Stephon Marbury things.
Arkansas: Bill Clinton (who is already doing advertisements for the school) while surrounded by cheerleaders.
Virginia Tech: Either of the Vick brothers; D’Angelo Hall with “I own 85” shaved into his head while Chad Johnson’s stats against Hall that night run below.
Notre Dame: The 23 year old who bought Jimmy Clausen alcohol; drunk belligerent Barney.
Alabama: Joe Namath with a few drinks in him (if he hits on any sideline reporter the better); Forest Gump;
- Least surprising part of this weekend’s games. The Giants get a personal foul and a spiking the ball penalty in the red zone which stall drives. And Pam Oliver just described their defense as “unemotional”. That’s it, I’m not picking the Giants again while Coughlin is in charge.
- It’s 3:30 on Sunday and I haven’t mentioned drinking. Well, I had New Orleans and Cincy 16 and 15 points in my pick em league (you put a point value 1-16 with each winner. If they win, you get those points, most points wins). New Orleans decided that I needed to have my selection of Joey Galloway in my fantasy rewarded and let him score two touchdowns and are losing 28-7. Cincinnati has given up 41 points to freakin’ Cleveland and it’s the start of the 4th quarter. I figure this is as good a time as any to start. Speaking of drinking, I love finding deals at the liquor store, especially new products that are improperly priced. Buffalo Trace is a new 90 proof bourbon available in Virginia liquor stores (all liquor stores down here are state owned. If it keeps taxes lower, I’m all for it. However, I feel my alcoholism makes me probably paying taxes for a salary twice mine). Its $22 for a 750, and $32 for a 1.75. The price per liter decreases from $30, to $19. That my friends is what I call a deal.
- Ok, its official. Elisha Manning (as he was listed on nfl.com’s injury report this morning) just threw an interception to a defensive lineman. I’m never picking the Giants again.
- My boy Chad is out today, and Kellen Clemens threw an interception on his second pass. Commence heavy drinking. At least Baltimore has Kyle Boeller playing instead of McNair. That gives me some comfort. I’m still pissed that CBS left the Cincy-Cleveland point fest for this rock fight.
- Justin McCarrens can go fuck himself. Clemens threw a perfect strike to him and he dropped it. And then 2nd and goal from the 8, McCarrens has one go off his hands and it gets intercepted.
- So my teams are a combined 0-5 so far this year. I lost more games than I won this week, not even going against the spread. And so the drinking continues. Luckily, Chris Cooley and Portis redeemed me further on Monday night by both scoring touchdowns. And if you want to know why I picked Cooley, here’s reason 2 behind “With a young quarterback, I feel that Cooley will be utilized a lot more than with Brunell.”
http://misterirrelevant.com/index.php/2007/09/16/chris-capt-chaos-cooley-keeps-it-real/
Straight cash, homey. Check out his wife too. Anyone who sticks out in my mind from a Maxim issue several years ago is hot. In that issue, she said how Fred Smoot was her favorite player(Vikings Love Boat Fred Smoot). Anyone who can marry someone who likes a man who set up a floating orgy with interstate hookers has my respect.
- Sorry the NFL portion is so light. This week’s slate of games in my area sucked. I need DirectTv badly. Until next week…
- Anytime anyone cuts to a DeSean Jackson highlight, I’m stopping what I’m doing immediately. New rule.
- Where on the vengeance scale does Steve Slaton rank against Maryland? For those of you who don’t know, Maryland took back a scholarship it had offered to Mr. Slaton. Since then, he has made it a point of destroying Maryland on Thursday nights. Last year, I think he had 3 touchdowns in the first quarter, including the greatest hesitation move I’ve ever seen. This year, he only had three touchdowns. Slaton is a bad man.
- Plus West Virginia has Noel Devine who was pretty sick against Maryland. He gets bonus points in my book because he lived with Deion Sanders. How many guys have that? I pray that it was like that Nike commercial where Deion lives with Jillian Barbarie and Deion sending him off to two a days. That was one of the highlights of football season 2006 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t08PKbIfuXw). I personally would have asked numerous questions about Deion’s rap career if I lived with him.
- I was a little too excited to watch Arkansas/Alabama because of my boy McFadden. Let’s just say I’m writing this with 2 minutes left in the first quarter and his Heisman campaign is over. Alabama is destroying them. But McFadden is still gaining 5+ yards every run.
- And fuck Nick Saban. His 15 year old niece was on the greatest website ever secpoon.com, a tribute to the great collection of female fans that attend SEC games. Apparently, Mr. Saban wasn’t too thrilled with this and threatened legal action and the site was closed. I can live with him ditching LSU and Miami. But when he shuts down the site that made me decide that if I ever won lotto I would spend my weekends touring the South watching football, that’s where I draw the line. FUCK NICK SABAN.
- Reason # 2,316 ESPN sucks. I woke up Saturday morning wanting to watch SportsCenter. Unfortunately, ESPN and ESPN2 had women’s freakin’ soccer on. And now, they just had a call with a defender from the USA Women’s team, who is apparently a Crimson Tide fan. Because you know what’s missing from my football broadcasts? Soccer strategy, that’s what. FUCK YOU ESPN. (Can you tell I have a bit of bourbon in me?)
- These guest introducers on ESPN needs to stop. I’m close to boycotting the first quarter of games just like I boycott Football in America on NBC until they get rid of Keith Olbermann. Watching Elizabeth Hasselbeck introduce Boston College is painful. More painful, Bob Davie making a Rosie O’Donnel joke. I hate my life right now.
- The only way this could work is if they have OJ announcing USC starting lineups. Will Ferrell would also work for USC, but OJ would be about 27 times better. (“John David Booty will slice up this Nebraska defense.” “CJ Gable is a bucking Bronco in the backfield.”) Reggie Bush should not be doing introductions and focusing on having a half way decent fantasy performance this week. And I hate that USC would have the only acceptable introductions.
- Ok, a drunk Joe Namath introducing Alabama would work as well.
- DJ Hall was ridiculous in the Ark-Ala game. He looked like me in corporate football against fellow tech guys. Just throw it up and he’ll get it. Me (in shape) against programmers is a mismatch.
- McFadden is a fucking beast. He just got hit behind the line of scrimmage. And he took that guy for a 7 yard gain. He’s got 154 at this point. And they just gave him the ball on a third and 8. Fuck a passing game. Holy fucking shit. They went to a direct snap and McFadden ran it in from 7 out. 174 for the game. Heisman is over. This is the best player in America. He’s put this team on his back the second half. And they just did a feature on his Crown Victoria on 28s. I love McFadden.
- McFadden sits out for cramps, Alabama comes back on a ridiculous final drive. A BS pass interference but a ridiculous catch in the end zone. Wilson just chucked it up for grabs and the Alabama receiver (not DJ Hall) caught it. What a game.
- In case anyone forgot FUCK NICK SABAN. USC just went up 35-10 against Nebraska. I’m going to bed. Until tomorrow, stay classy San Diego.
- After reflecting on my run Sunday morning, I decided that the new feature on ESPN with someone related to the school introducing the starters could work, but only with certain people. Here are acceptable introducers in addition to OJ and Will Ferrell:USC: Nick Lachey and Matt Leinhart introducing the team while gazing into each others eyes, Matt Leinhart following his introduction with, “I’ll tell you who’s not starting for USC this year: Brynn Cameron, who’s too busy suing me for additional child support.”
LSU: Shaq, hopefully being introduced as his Louisianan brethren, Neon Beduex.
West Virginia: Pacman Jones
Florida: Erin Andrews in a bikini after a few good meals; J Will, hopefully after a few bong hits.
(A lot more likely: Joakim Noah talking about Dem Gator Boys which my television is already fearing. It might be broken if he’s on there.)
Texas: Kevin Durant (Again, more likely and will result in my television being destroyed: Roger Clemens)
Cal: Marshawn Lynch calling the offense line “Solid”, and following it up with, “it don’t get no better than solid.”
Ohio State: Maurice Clarrett
Penn State: LeVar Arrington while sitting in his chess room; the stadium cleaning crew who don’t have to work anymore thanks to JoPa’s ruling.
Georgia Tech: Stephon Marbury doing Stephon Marbury things.
Arkansas: Bill Clinton (who is already doing advertisements for the school) while surrounded by cheerleaders.
Virginia Tech: Either of the Vick brothers; D’Angelo Hall with “I own 85” shaved into his head while Chad Johnson’s stats against Hall that night run below.
Notre Dame: The 23 year old who bought Jimmy Clausen alcohol; drunk belligerent Barney.
Alabama: Joe Namath with a few drinks in him (if he hits on any sideline reporter the better); Forest Gump;
- Least surprising part of this weekend’s games. The Giants get a personal foul and a spiking the ball penalty in the red zone which stall drives. And Pam Oliver just described their defense as “unemotional”. That’s it, I’m not picking the Giants again while Coughlin is in charge.
- It’s 3:30 on Sunday and I haven’t mentioned drinking. Well, I had New Orleans and Cincy 16 and 15 points in my pick em league (you put a point value 1-16 with each winner. If they win, you get those points, most points wins). New Orleans decided that I needed to have my selection of Joey Galloway in my fantasy rewarded and let him score two touchdowns and are losing 28-7. Cincinnati has given up 41 points to freakin’ Cleveland and it’s the start of the 4th quarter. I figure this is as good a time as any to start. Speaking of drinking, I love finding deals at the liquor store, especially new products that are improperly priced. Buffalo Trace is a new 90 proof bourbon available in Virginia liquor stores (all liquor stores down here are state owned. If it keeps taxes lower, I’m all for it. However, I feel my alcoholism makes me probably paying taxes for a salary twice mine). Its $22 for a 750, and $32 for a 1.75. The price per liter decreases from $30, to $19. That my friends is what I call a deal.
- Ok, its official. Elisha Manning (as he was listed on nfl.com’s injury report this morning) just threw an interception to a defensive lineman. I’m never picking the Giants again.
- My boy Chad is out today, and Kellen Clemens threw an interception on his second pass. Commence heavy drinking. At least Baltimore has Kyle Boeller playing instead of McNair. That gives me some comfort. I’m still pissed that CBS left the Cincy-Cleveland point fest for this rock fight.
- Justin McCarrens can go fuck himself. Clemens threw a perfect strike to him and he dropped it. And then 2nd and goal from the 8, McCarrens has one go off his hands and it gets intercepted.
- So my teams are a combined 0-5 so far this year. I lost more games than I won this week, not even going against the spread. And so the drinking continues. Luckily, Chris Cooley and Portis redeemed me further on Monday night by both scoring touchdowns. And if you want to know why I picked Cooley, here’s reason 2 behind “With a young quarterback, I feel that Cooley will be utilized a lot more than with Brunell.”
http://misterirrelevant.com/index.php/2007/09/16/chris-capt-chaos-cooley-keeps-it-real/
Straight cash, homey. Check out his wife too. Anyone who sticks out in my mind from a Maxim issue several years ago is hot. In that issue, she said how Fred Smoot was her favorite player(Vikings Love Boat Fred Smoot). Anyone who can marry someone who likes a man who set up a floating orgy with interstate hookers has my respect.
- Sorry the NFL portion is so light. This week’s slate of games in my area sucked. I need DirectTv badly. Until next week…
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Did Anyone Ever See That Movie Tron?
No
No
No
No
No
Yes, I mean no.
And by no, I mean, I will definitely be seeing this movie:
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/hr/content_display/news/e3i16c1ed3bf76536b4c669651706799643
I'm looking forward to the deadly Frisbee battle, also for the fact that I'm seeing it based on two non-related quotes.
(The above quote narrowly beat out "...a Harlem resident, known simply as Tron.")
No
No
No
No
Yes, I mean no.
And by no, I mean, I will definitely be seeing this movie:
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/hr/content_display/news/e3i16c1ed3bf76536b4c669651706799643
I'm looking forward to the deadly Frisbee battle, also for the fact that I'm seeing it based on two non-related quotes.
(The above quote narrowly beat out "...a Harlem resident, known simply as Tron.")
Monday Morning Hangover - Week 1
Is there anything better in life than opening weekend in the NFL? Besides Irish Day? I say no. Maybe conference championship weekend. And the weekend action started on Thursday, so that’s where we’ll start.
- Tough way to start the season. I had Reggie Bush in my fantasy league and went against the grain with New Orleans in my pick em league because I had a “feeling”. Not to self, no longer trust your “feelings”. I justified everything fine, I just forgot one thing: the NFC sucks. I don’t think I’m picking an NFC team on the road against the AFC again.
- I nearly lost my mind when they talked about Tony Dungy’s “Quiet Strength”. How he got fired from Tampa Bay, all the disappointment in Indy, etc. Not once in there did they mention that ummmmmmm, his son committed suicide. Way to ignore anything non-football related douches.
- I’m glad that Notre Dame decided that we’re not going to throw the ball farther than 10 yards. I don’t think I can live in a world where I have to root for that and Chad Pennington’s arm without becoming homicidal.
- Its bad when I say to myself 31-10, could have been worse. It’s going to be a long year, which was made worse by Dick freakin’ Vitale making an appearance in the 3rd quarter. At least I’m not a Michigan fan.
- Time for this week’s Notre Dame commercial that drives me into sarcastic remarks. If you’re new to this, Notre Dame tries to emphasize its Catholicism in its university commercials. This week, they advertised that they are “fighting global warming.” My response was, “I’d wish we’d stop fighting something that isn’t even true and start fighting the plague of white people in their secondary.” Not you, Zbikowski, you’re good in my book. In fact, you’re the only member of that team that’s ok in my book.
- I’d like to thank LSU for kicking Virginia Tech’s ass. I wasn’t looking forward to staying up to watch the end of that, so I was able to pass out around 10. LSU has officially reached Problem status.
- Steve Spurrier is always fun. He upsets Georgia, on the road none the less, and he’s pissed that his offense only scored 16 points. No credit goes to the defense for holding them to 12 points. Just that his offense couldn’t score enough for his liking.
- I think the reason that I’m not a big Cam Cameron fan is that he doesn’t call himself “Killa” or yell out “Dip Set!” after touchdowns.
- My favorite commercial so far has been for that movie “The Brave One.” Only because I find it hilarious that someone said, “Hmmm…we have a Jodie Foster movie. You know who we should put on the commercials? DMX. ‘What’s My Name?’ should go great with Jodie.”
- Randy Moss has reached Problem status as well. As I said back at the Draft to my brother, the Patriots got the best player in the draft in the 4th round. I’m already regretting not keeping him in my fantasy league.
- Tough way to start the season. I had Reggie Bush in my fantasy league and went against the grain with New Orleans in my pick em league because I had a “feeling”. Not to self, no longer trust your “feelings”. I justified everything fine, I just forgot one thing: the NFC sucks. I don’t think I’m picking an NFC team on the road against the AFC again.
- I nearly lost my mind when they talked about Tony Dungy’s “Quiet Strength”. How he got fired from Tampa Bay, all the disappointment in Indy, etc. Not once in there did they mention that ummmmmmm, his son committed suicide. Way to ignore anything non-football related douches.
- I’m glad that Notre Dame decided that we’re not going to throw the ball farther than 10 yards. I don’t think I can live in a world where I have to root for that and Chad Pennington’s arm without becoming homicidal.
- Its bad when I say to myself 31-10, could have been worse. It’s going to be a long year, which was made worse by Dick freakin’ Vitale making an appearance in the 3rd quarter. At least I’m not a Michigan fan.
- Time for this week’s Notre Dame commercial that drives me into sarcastic remarks. If you’re new to this, Notre Dame tries to emphasize its Catholicism in its university commercials. This week, they advertised that they are “fighting global warming.” My response was, “I’d wish we’d stop fighting something that isn’t even true and start fighting the plague of white people in their secondary.” Not you, Zbikowski, you’re good in my book. In fact, you’re the only member of that team that’s ok in my book.
- I’d like to thank LSU for kicking Virginia Tech’s ass. I wasn’t looking forward to staying up to watch the end of that, so I was able to pass out around 10. LSU has officially reached Problem status.
- Steve Spurrier is always fun. He upsets Georgia, on the road none the less, and he’s pissed that his offense only scored 16 points. No credit goes to the defense for holding them to 12 points. Just that his offense couldn’t score enough for his liking.
- I think the reason that I’m not a big Cam Cameron fan is that he doesn’t call himself “Killa” or yell out “Dip Set!” after touchdowns.
- My favorite commercial so far has been for that movie “The Brave One.” Only because I find it hilarious that someone said, “Hmmm…we have a Jodie Foster movie. You know who we should put on the commercials? DMX. ‘What’s My Name?’ should go great with Jodie.”
- Randy Moss has reached Problem status as well. As I said back at the Draft to my brother, the Patriots got the best player in the draft in the 4th round. I’m already regretting not keeping him in my fantasy league.
- I'm not ready to discuss the Jets-Pats game. I'm going to keep using the fact that New England was video taping them and stick to it. Please disregard three Jets not being able to keep up with Moss or giving up a 108 yard kick off return. It was all the illegal video that did it.
- Hope you get better Chad. I would not have been one cheering your injury. You've done too much for the franchise.
- Clinton Portis also looks like he’s back. Not sure how many carries he’ll get with Betts playing as well, but he looked effective today and redeemed my selection of him on my fantasy team. He even ran across the field to lay out a defensive lineman on a block (my favorite part of ESPN’s fantasy special was when they complemented Portis on his ability to pick up the blitz. Because that’s worth a ton of points in my league). He’d be worth a lot more if dressing up in character was worth points.
- Thanks goes out to my brother, who told me to pick Tennessee. I need to be reminded who they’re quarterback is sometimes, despite the fact that Lendale White continues to suck and I can’t name one of his receivers.
-Mario Williams has more touchdowns than Reggie Bush. Fuck you Reggie, give me something next week.
- Biggest upset of the day? Me staying sober until 7 PM on Sunday. The reason for this is I realized that if I work out after the 1 o’clock games, I can still watch the game at the gym and it keeps me from drinking (all part of my attempt to get back in shape. I feel embarrassed to tell people I was a college basketball player just three years ago). The 1 o’clock game was a little boring, but I probably won’t be throwing up at work tomorrow. It’s a give and take.
- I’m on strike against Football in America studio show until they get rid of Keith Olbermann and Tiki out of there. What a joke.
- The disaster that is the New York Football Giants will be less fun without Eli throwing picks all over the place for the next month. Granted, I'm all for overweight left handed quarterbacks, but there's something about Eli that I love. Maybe its the fact that Giants fans root for him to suck because they hate him so much. My brother even has an irrational hatred for Cooper Manning ("If he had stayed healthy, people would have seen that not every Manning can play football."). I'll miss Eli, but bring on the Hefty Lefty.
- On the Monday night games, I needed Baltimore and San Fran to win so I could win $150 in my pick em league. This despite the fact that I had picked the Bengals to win. So I had to root against myself, which upset the gambling gods, and Baltimore became the first team to lose 3 fumbles in the first quarter. I really hate my luck sometimes.
- Finally, Who’s Barney has been decided. Read Agent Zero’s blog, the specifically Relationships 101 part. It’s over, no one is beating Arenas.
http://www.nba.com/blog/gilbert_arenas.html#070908_01?rss=true
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Monday Morning Hangover
I think we’re starting a new feature here on the Barney Show…Monday Morning Hangover. It will be my replace Weekend Musings during football season and will focus on the weekend’s happenings. Why Monday Morning Hangover? Seems apropos (Big word right there. This is definitely not being written while I’ve been drinking. In fact, its being written Sunday morning.) Plus, no one has had more Monday’s where they’re hungover than me. Usually around 3 PM on Sunday’s I start getting board and say, “Fuck it, let’s start drinking.” This makes my case of the Mondays a whole lot worse than anyone else. On the bright side, I can’t feel any worse than Monday morning so my week only gets better (in theory). Anyway, here’s my take on this weekend’s action.
Obviously, I have to talk about the Appalachian St-Michigan game. I like how the biggest upset ever was watched by about 10 people. I was almost ready to drive up to Bristol and take some people out when they stayed with the Michigan St-UAB game that was a 30 point blow out until I realized it was on the Big Ten Network. So I watched ESPN news for an hour straight waiting for updates. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before, so you know that’s how big of a game this was (I even had to endure a repeat of a Maurice Jones-Drew interview for some reason. This was done Friday afternoon, before he found out about Leftwich. In the list of dumbass things to repeat on tv, that was up there).
I was home this weekend so I got my dad’s take on it.
Dad: “They (App St) would have been a 60 point underdog if they had a line.”Me: “What was the line?”Dad: “They didn’t have one. Vegas didn’t set a line because its Appalachian St-Michigan.”That’s reason # 5,478 that my dad should be analyzing football games on tv. No one mentioned that on ESPN or anywhere else. Dad would definitely give the gambling angle. Plus reason # 5,479 would be that he would fight Lou Holtz to the death on national tv. I don’t see any downside to this. (He was visibly giddy to see Lou’s reaction to the ND debacle. I think my favorite quote about my dad was, “Barney, I never understood your ridiculous hatred of JJ Reddick until I saw your dad’s hatred of Lou Holtz. Now it makes perfect sense.”)
Anyone else think the Virginia Tech coverage was a little ridiculous? I know a tragedy occurred there, but stop reminding us of that. I hate it when they shove sentimentality down my throat. I’ll admit I got emotional when they played “Enter the Sandman” with the entire student body jumping up and down, because A) that was cool and B) it meant football was back and I was very excited about this fact. There were no feelings about that shooting whatsoever. (I then changed the channel to HBO to watch their documentary about the Yankees effect on NYC after 9/11. I remember that the death of 3,000 innocent Americans was still not enough for me to root for the Yankees. In fact, I still remember how pissed off I was when Jeter hit that home run in the World Series, because they shouts from the dorm room woke me up. So maybe I’m not the right person to be talking about sports healing effects after tragedy.)
Here’s the link: http://awfulannouncing.blogspot.com/2007/09/welcome-back-vt.html
If that doesn’t get you hyped up, I don’t know what to say to you. Even the freakin’ band was jumping up and down.
After Va Tech came running out, my first thought was, “Does that banner say…Ookie?”
Then I realized that it said Hokies, which makes a lot more sense. I can still hope that one day they bring two O’s and say, “Screw it.” (You can see the Ookie part in the youtube clip as well).
Three possessions into the Notre Dame game I was saying, “This is going to be a long year.” At halftime, they ran one of those standard commercials by the colleges about things they do other than football (like anyone gives a crap that they have a tremendous physics department). Being that it was Notre Dame, they had a priest talking about work they’ve done in Haiti. That brought on this exchange:Mom: Why are they showing this during a football game?Me: It’s the Notre Dame game. They’re trying to remind people that they’re a Catholic university.
Mom: Oh, ok, that makes sense.
Me: I’d rather have less Catholicism and more speed on the outside. Georgia Tech is killing them.
The point I realized this wasn’t going to be a great year: When they introduced the starters on offense and my first thought was, “There are a lot of white guys starting this year.”
Cal is fast. They’re skill players looked ridiculous. Besides DeSean Jackson (love the spelling), they have a freshman named Jahvid Best. If this was 2005 again, me and Floyd Banks would be calling him a Problem. Maybe not now, but at some point, he’s going to be a Problem. He was 4th in the nation in the 100M last year. But he’s a football player with sprinter speed, not a sprinter playing football. He only had 4 carries last night, but I moved to the edge of my seat for all of them.
The Alcoholic Tour™ continued at my parents house. Nothing like drinking for 9 hours on Saturday (beer with the occasional bourbon) and 10 hours on Sunday (beer with regular bourbon) and still not really getting drunk. The highlight of all this was walking around at 11 pm, vomiting on a Temple and then in a park of an elementary school. Not that I was that drunk, its just that my stomach is so shot at this point, it can’t handle too much in it, and start rejecting stuff Mutumbo in his prime style. Good times. The vomiting wasn’t enough, because I still wasn’t able to sleep at that point. An hour of occasional bourbon shots and a trip to the bar got me past that. When people say that being an alcoholic is glamorous, tell them its hard work. You see the multiple shots at the bar, but not the drinking alone, vomiting on sacred structures and kid’s playgrounds and the like. Its like how I used to shoot 300 jump shots a day by myself or run 1000 meter repeats in the summer heat, except this is highly unproductive to my well being. But fuck it. Whatever, I really don’t care at this point.
Obviously, I have to talk about the Appalachian St-Michigan game. I like how the biggest upset ever was watched by about 10 people. I was almost ready to drive up to Bristol and take some people out when they stayed with the Michigan St-UAB game that was a 30 point blow out until I realized it was on the Big Ten Network. So I watched ESPN news for an hour straight waiting for updates. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before, so you know that’s how big of a game this was (I even had to endure a repeat of a Maurice Jones-Drew interview for some reason. This was done Friday afternoon, before he found out about Leftwich. In the list of dumbass things to repeat on tv, that was up there).
I was home this weekend so I got my dad’s take on it.
Dad: “They (App St) would have been a 60 point underdog if they had a line.”Me: “What was the line?”Dad: “They didn’t have one. Vegas didn’t set a line because its Appalachian St-Michigan.”That’s reason # 5,478 that my dad should be analyzing football games on tv. No one mentioned that on ESPN or anywhere else. Dad would definitely give the gambling angle. Plus reason # 5,479 would be that he would fight Lou Holtz to the death on national tv. I don’t see any downside to this. (He was visibly giddy to see Lou’s reaction to the ND debacle. I think my favorite quote about my dad was, “Barney, I never understood your ridiculous hatred of JJ Reddick until I saw your dad’s hatred of Lou Holtz. Now it makes perfect sense.”)
Anyone else think the Virginia Tech coverage was a little ridiculous? I know a tragedy occurred there, but stop reminding us of that. I hate it when they shove sentimentality down my throat. I’ll admit I got emotional when they played “Enter the Sandman” with the entire student body jumping up and down, because A) that was cool and B) it meant football was back and I was very excited about this fact. There were no feelings about that shooting whatsoever. (I then changed the channel to HBO to watch their documentary about the Yankees effect on NYC after 9/11. I remember that the death of 3,000 innocent Americans was still not enough for me to root for the Yankees. In fact, I still remember how pissed off I was when Jeter hit that home run in the World Series, because they shouts from the dorm room woke me up. So maybe I’m not the right person to be talking about sports healing effects after tragedy.)
Here’s the link: http://awfulannouncing.blogspot.com/2007/09/welcome-back-vt.html
If that doesn’t get you hyped up, I don’t know what to say to you. Even the freakin’ band was jumping up and down.
After Va Tech came running out, my first thought was, “Does that banner say…Ookie?”
Then I realized that it said Hokies, which makes a lot more sense. I can still hope that one day they bring two O’s and say, “Screw it.” (You can see the Ookie part in the youtube clip as well).
Three possessions into the Notre Dame game I was saying, “This is going to be a long year.” At halftime, they ran one of those standard commercials by the colleges about things they do other than football (like anyone gives a crap that they have a tremendous physics department). Being that it was Notre Dame, they had a priest talking about work they’ve done in Haiti. That brought on this exchange:Mom: Why are they showing this during a football game?Me: It’s the Notre Dame game. They’re trying to remind people that they’re a Catholic university.
Mom: Oh, ok, that makes sense.
Me: I’d rather have less Catholicism and more speed on the outside. Georgia Tech is killing them.
The point I realized this wasn’t going to be a great year: When they introduced the starters on offense and my first thought was, “There are a lot of white guys starting this year.”
Cal is fast. They’re skill players looked ridiculous. Besides DeSean Jackson (love the spelling), they have a freshman named Jahvid Best. If this was 2005 again, me and Floyd Banks would be calling him a Problem. Maybe not now, but at some point, he’s going to be a Problem. He was 4th in the nation in the 100M last year. But he’s a football player with sprinter speed, not a sprinter playing football. He only had 4 carries last night, but I moved to the edge of my seat for all of them.
The Alcoholic Tour™ continued at my parents house. Nothing like drinking for 9 hours on Saturday (beer with the occasional bourbon) and 10 hours on Sunday (beer with regular bourbon) and still not really getting drunk. The highlight of all this was walking around at 11 pm, vomiting on a Temple and then in a park of an elementary school. Not that I was that drunk, its just that my stomach is so shot at this point, it can’t handle too much in it, and start rejecting stuff Mutumbo in his prime style. Good times. The vomiting wasn’t enough, because I still wasn’t able to sleep at that point. An hour of occasional bourbon shots and a trip to the bar got me past that. When people say that being an alcoholic is glamorous, tell them its hard work. You see the multiple shots at the bar, but not the drinking alone, vomiting on sacred structures and kid’s playgrounds and the like. Its like how I used to shoot 300 jump shots a day by myself or run 1000 meter repeats in the summer heat, except this is highly unproductive to my well being. But fuck it. Whatever, I really don’t care at this point.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)