There is no greater honor than being a Charolastra

Fuck Doug! I'm not going out like this! He said, "Man, I'm all I got and I won't be missed." This makes no sense. This makes no sense to me. Time for Musings!

- Diesel, I'm gonna get this over with for you early. GO THE SOCCEROOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Yes, that is the Australian language construction for cheering for one's team. If Dan Uggla cloned himself and named the team after himself and his clones, we would say, "Go The Ugglas!") With the U.S. out after their colossal choke last Thursday, I'm putting my full support behind Australia. Also Ukraine, ancestral homeland of Miss Jones' family. The Ukraine is strong! Busy day for me since Australia's taking on Italy as I type and Ukraine battles those crafty Swiss later in the day. If any of y'all aren't generic honkeys like myself and would like a little World Cup love for your sponsors, speak now or forever hold my piece, I mean your peace.
- Italy's goalie's name is Buffon. That's kinda funny.
- Anyone see that goal by Beckham yesterday? Yes, he "bent" it, just like one would hope. I had just woken up and flipped the England-Ecuador game on. While I'm not necessarily a fan, just indifferent, even if he did partially inspire the name of our fine forum, it was fucking awesome. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnV7xTokYdM&search=beckham. GOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!
- Saturday afternoon, Argentina beat Mexico 2-1 on a "golden goal" (that's an overtime goal) by Maxi Rodriguez. I thought about not even mentioning this because if I ever told you about Maxi, you'd only say I don't know what I know. (8yearoldsdude, you're probably the only one with a shot at that).
- OK, here's something I really didn't want to mention. Time for the Bend It Official Major League Baseball Player Dan Uggla Watch! To quote Placebo's first good song ever, "Someone call the ambulance. There's gonna be an accident." Dan Uggla is injured. Hamstring. He is listed as "day-to-day," which of course sparks Keith Olbermann's famous quote, "We're all day-to-day." Anyway, I hope this does not portend ill winds in other facets of life. Perhaps if we all simultaneous meditate and hope for his recovery. A-ooom! A-ooom! (Christ, I don't know a better meditation onomatopoeia. That's the one I learned when I was 9).
- Speaking of baseball, you'd hope someone who manages a team known as the Tourists (Ashville, NC) would conduct himself with the same class that we do. Sadly, this was not the case. However, it is pretty damn funny. http://sports.espn.go.com/minorlbb/news/story?id=2500470.
- So I was watching a bit of the College World Series championship and UNC's star relief pitcher is named Jonathan Hovis. Seriously, if he doesn't enter the game to, "H-to-the-Izzo," then I'm giving up on life. And if they don't have player music in college, because I really don't know, when he strikes someone out, he better say, "Riddle me this, who better than HOV?"
- In Saturday's NHL Draft, the Washington Capitals selected a goalie named Semen Varlamov. I'm gonna leave this one to y'all if you want it.
- In one of the more unfortunate segues ever, so I was out at the Chicago Pride Parade yesterday. OK, I better amend that statement; I attended the Chicago Pride Parade yesterday. Non-particularly shocking irony of the day, if I were trying to meet women, the Pride Parade probably would be a Top 5 place to do it.
- I did have my camera phone in tow, which I really needed Saturday during my trip to Sheffield's for a friend's birthday, as the Giant Douche Cam would have been in full force, were in not on my coffee table. Naturally, most of my pictures came out horrible, but I do have a special treat for y'all later this week with the one photo that did.
- I think the best sign I saw, at least not related to George Bush, was the Lee Lumber (a local home improvement store) had a sign proclaiming, "We've Got the Best Trim." I have a free burrito coupon for Chipotle, which I don't even like, that's emblazoned with the words, "Homo Estas." I haven't quite decided whether that's in good taste or not, coming from McDonalds. I think the moral dilemma of the day came from the Broadway Youth Center float, which had two "yoots" topless except for pink tape over their nipples. I was trying to decide or not whether I should be looking.
- What I didn't see, but not for lack of looking, was the one thing that seemed inevitable. An "Eat Me" cake float that turns into the Delta DeathMobile. Sponsored, of course, by the Chicago White Sox.
- So I was doing a little guest fashion commentary last week and it's only fair that I plug the site. It's a DC-based "Sex and the City" themed site. As far as I can tell, I don't actually know any of them, thought I've been trying to figure it out since one of them surfed over here and complimented Zekers' bunny, Zeke. You'd think I'd hate it, considering the occasional level of celebrating gamesmanship, but I really do enjoy it. They do a really good job of breaking down certain social situations. I've been trying to broker a deal to get them to do some guest fashion commentary over here (I mean it's only fair, right?), but haven't been having a lot of success. But that doesn't mean I won't send people over there anyway. http://justanotherman.blogspot.com. By the way, nice color scheme.
- I guess on that note, it's time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner Part 1! Saturday I saw a woman wearing a short-sleeve black shirt that was off-the-shoulder on the left shoulder. I really wasn't quite sure what to make of it. I mean, it wasn't like Flashdance off-the-shoulder, but you could see her entire left shoulder and collarbone and upper chest area, no cleavage whatsoever. I was slightly confounded in that I couldn't look away. After repeated staring, it kinda worked. I don't know how much of it was the shirt and how much was the woman herself and maybe it was just a good synergy of style and person. I guess I'd have to see it on other people to form a cohesive opinion, but it was easily the most interesting thing I saw all night.
- Speaking of fashion, most, including the site that posted this, would simply gasp in horror at the dress, or I think that's what it is. I think I'll look for the positive and remark at Kristen Bell's ability to still look gorgeous while wearing this atrocity of a dress, or whatever it is. http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2006/06/fugten_bell.html.
- Now if we're really talking atrocity, if Nelly Furtado wants to thwart her attempts at being a "Promiscuous Girl," this is a fucking fantastic way to do it. http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2006/06/so_you_think_yo.html.
- One more, and this one's for the ladies. D-Nozz, ladies and gentlemen! http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2006/06/celebrity_terro_1.html.
- Time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner Part 2! Thursday I saw a woman wearing a tubetop with a ruffle on it. Oh, the humanity!
- OK, while we're still on fashion, I read today that Slate is coming out with a 10th Anniversary book. While I'm sure that in 1996, when it started, they were discussing the finer points of Maxx Headroom, they have taken it upon themselves to start re-posting columns from the book. Because they know that anything is better than the shit they have on now. And for once, they're right. I kinda enjoyed this piece about low-rise jeans. Sure, it's not perfect and could have made a better statement about fashion's place in cultural evolution or devolution, but hey, it was on Slate and didn't suck. http://www.slate.com/id/2143246/.
- Speaking of Slate, they had a current piece that was almost OK. Until the end when he ran when he refuses to support his statement of why it was the "best bad celebrity interview ever." Sorry, dude. It's not res ipsa loquitur when the quote is gibberish and conflicts what you said about the interview content. http://www.slate.com/id/2144188/?GT1=8295. Man, you were so close. I think the 10th Anniversary book should be called, "Almost Competent."
- For some unknown reason, sparked by a comment by my inner monologue, my insult du jour over the weekend was "date rapist." That's probably not a good thing, considering that date rape isn't particularly funny, the classic Sublime song aside. Yes, I know I got the expression from "Mallrats."
- In my quest to find a new bar within walking distance to replace the dearly departed Lucille's, I actually did come across one I enjoyed, at least while uncrowded. Matilda's. Snarky signs proclaiming their specials were, "Not a damn thing," which mercifully wasn't true and that one must be 23 to enter. Most importantly, a jukebox that featured Interpol, Echo and the Bunnymen's "The Killing Moon," as well as "Baby Got Back." In the words of Woody from "Cheers" in his Veggie Boy commercials, "I like it!"
- Speaking of "Baby Got Back," I don't think I've posted this since JoshuaTrees showed this to me in the pre-Bend It days. Anyway, someone got the idea to translate the first half of "Baby Got Back" into Latin and then translate said Latin back into English. I really have no idea why, but it's verily hilarious. http://quislibet.livejournal.com/164084.html.
- And now, the power of marketing! Saturday, I walked by TJ Maxx on my way to the video store, as I do every time I walk to the video store. And I immediately began singing the song. From 1986. Come on, y'all. You know what I'm talking about. "Dit-a-dit-dit, dit-a-dit-dit, TJ Maxx!"
- Naturally, I'll follow this by hammering Starbucks for a mind-bending decision. So for those unaware, Starbucks runs a faux-Italian theme, and has since I can remember. That explains away some of the spellings and one of the most frequently asked questions as to why half coffee, half hot milk is called a "Misto" when most of us, especially those who took French, learned it as "Cafe Au Lait." It's the same thing. So now that they're putting the "concept" of half iced coffee, half cold milk on the menu, they're calling that "Cafe Con Leche." Which is Spanish for "Cafe Au Lait" or "Misto." Which makes no sense for at least two reasons. First, there's no reference to ice, and I had a hot "Cafe Con Leche" a week and a half ago. Secondly, it breaks the faux-Italian theme. I tried to figure out why they'd do this and it served as the Starbucks equivalent of the South Park "Chewbacca Defense." Seriously, the only way to not come across like idiots is to call it "Iced Misto." Yes, you've entered the realm of Shit Only Tristan Cares About. Mi casa es su casa.
- And finally, since I'm talking coffee shop, I have to give credit for some fellow snarky barista-ing by a dude working at The Fixx (Sheffield and ... Christ I don't know, right near Belmont, right by Matilda's) with a short mohawk and earrings. The woman I was in there with ordered a small iced coffee and the dude says to me, "Let me guess, you're gonna get the exact same thing." He was right, of course. But what exactly did he mean in saying that? Either that A) we looked not only like a couple, but one of those couples who would order the same thing, or more likely, B) that she was so completely out of my league that it had fried my brain and I knew that he knew that I knew it. Yeah, definitely a little Admiral Stockdale in my facial expression. Well played, that dude.

How will you know if you've found me at last? Cause I'll be the one, be the one, be the one, with my heart in my lap. I'm so tired. I'm so tired. And I wish I was the moon tonight.

Just get a monkey, and ... torture the hell out of it

OK, so I'm sorry to report that Postman Pat had a little trouble crossing the pond and will be a little late with our mailbag. (Shhhh, this is code for I don't have enough time to write it). Maybe if Sir Walter Raleigh lay down his coat, Postman Pat would have an easier time crossing. Because everyone knows about that, right?

Anyway, the good news is that I've pulled some more clips from The State. Including a few favorites of some of our Tourists. For instance, Zekers and Footnotes have both named this delicious-looking sketch as their personal favorite: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghMpHE5qAk0&search=the%20state%20mtv.

Hey, Senor Beavis, you might be thinking. What's your personal favorite? Well, it just might be this. And remember, you have to say it as one word. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbjIFbhHIpo&search=the%20state%20mtv.

8yearoldsdude grew up watching this with you. What's his favorite? I think it's this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pvloza4TZHY&search=the%20state%20mtv. Although it might be the MonkeyTorture one.

What's the best random-ass 30-second short clip? Oh, I don't know. This one? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_VrwOtyfSaQ&search=the%20state%20mtv.

Hey, why do you use the expression, "International sign for ____" so often? Maybe because of this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y8BYn8-tdm8&search=the%20state%20mtv.

And finally, you know how I love beep-out humor. Well, you'll have to wait until next week for Battle of the TV Censorship Sketches. Have a great weekend.

For one brief and shining moment, Dusty Baker's not the dumbest manager in Chicago

I think Dusty Baker is the worst manager in the major leagues. And I still will tomorrow. He NEVER holds players accountable for not hustling or making boneheaded plays. Rather a hug and a pat on the ass. He "asked Sammy Sosa's permission" to move him down in the order. You're the manager, you donkey-clown! It's your team and you can do what you want. Unless you have no balls like Dusty Baker. He plays Neifi Perez. OK, that's bad enough. But also plays him against a right-handed pitcher when a left-handed hitter with a 100-point higher batting average is sitting on the bench. As a radio caller said, "Who cares if Neifi Perez is a switch hitter. All that means is he has the ability to be bad from both sides of the plate." Most importantly, managing a team that should institute the Little League strategy of taking the first pitch every at bat until they learn a modicum of patience, Dusty Baker says shit like this:

"I think walks are overrated unless you can run. If you get a walk and put the pitcher in a stretch, that helps. But the guy who walks and can't run, most of the time they're clogging up the bases for somebody who can run."Who's been the champions the last seven, eight years? Have you ever heard the Yankees talk about on-base percentage and walks? Walks help. But you ain't going to walk across the plate. You're going to hit across the plate. That's the school I come from. It's called hitting, and it ain't called walking. Do you ever see the top 10 walking? You see top 10 batting average. A lot of those top 10 do walk. But the name of the game is to hit."

You dumb fuck. You want as many guys on base as possible. In theory, the Cubs should be the best team in the whole league since they don't have those pesky baserunners clogging up the bases. However, this may be the most backhanded compliment ever, but Dusty Baker is at least smart enough to go on record as using homophobic slurs.

Yeah. White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen referred to shitty Chicago Sun-Times columnist and ESPN personality Jay Marriotti as a "fucking fag." On the record. http://www.suntimes.com/output/couch/cst-spt-greg212.html. I don't like Marriotti as a columnist and probably wouldn't as a person, but that's reprehensible. Guillen can insult Marriotti as much as he wants, but how hard is it to limit yourself to insults that do not insult a significant percentage of your city, country, and world. Even Hawk Harrelson, who I hope gets hit by a train today if not tomorrow, at least has the decency to call Marriotti nonsense words like "heiniebird." When Hawk Harrelson AND Dusty Baker are smarter than you, you know there's a problem.

Is it possible I'm holding a piece of information for dramatic effect? Yeah. Let me now take this opportunity to mention that the Chicago Pride Parade is THIS SUNDAY. I'm guessing that the White Sox aren't sponsoring a float this year. I wonder if Ozzie Guillen is planning to skip Sunday's game and go heckle the participants. Personally, I think Ozzie should have to be in the parade so everyone out there both marching, riding, and watching in support of gay pride and gay rights can throw shit at him.

The best, and by "best," I mean worst, part of this is that this isn't even the first time he's done it. Last summer, someone's microphone picked up Guillen calling some guy in New York who he claimed was his friend, a homosexual and a child molestor. There was a brief dust-up that quickly passed. Fans, media, and most of all, the team, let it slide like they always do. They said, "Oh, it's just Ozzie being Ozzie. He says outrageous stuff." "Outrageous" is saying Jay Marriotti should go have sex with a monkey. Calling him a "fag," once again, is reprehensible.

I've been really nice to the White Sox and their fans this season. I haven't used a nickname for the team in months. But I'd have to say that this is the epitome of trash. And you White Sox fans out there need to stand up and let Ozzie Guillen know that this shit is unacceptable. Bring signs to the game saying so. Boo the hell out of him. Let him know that the world is not his playground and that not everyone will bow down and kiss his ass while he spits on others. I don't see this is being any different from the John Rocker situation. As I was saying earlier this morning, he's not saying this by accident. It's his choice and one he's made more than once. So if everyone just ... pardon the expression, bends over and takes it, then y'all really won't just be rooting for the White Trash, you'll be it.

In the words of Jean-Paul Sartre, "Au revoir, go-phere!"

OK, I apologize in advance, just on principle today. I’ve been trying to get this post to make sense for the last 3 days and it inevitably comes out as either A) gibberish, B) me sounding like an asshole, C) something that could be misinterpreted as Republican ideology, or D) all of the above. Also, E) Rangers Suck! (TM Diesel’s brother).

Anyway, I tend to be a great believer in free will. It’s a theme that comes up in many forms here and has from the start. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2004/10/everybody-funny-now-you-funny-too.html). But this has been on my mind a lot in the past few weeks in terms of potential strength and weakness. Part of a character study of sorts.

OK, let’s run a hypothetical for a second. I wish I had a classier example, but this has probably happened to everyone in some form, so it’s kinda the best I have. Say you’re either attempting to date someone or actually dating someone or whatever. And they go and sleep with an ex. Or some guy or girl they met out somewhere. Or Orlando Bloom. Regardless. They may or may not have cheated on you, depending on what your status is, but either way, it’s not good for you. They tell you, and as part of the conversation, they drop, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not proud of it.” And you, well, actually I don’t know what your take would be, but mine would be, “No, it doesn’t really.” Because it just seems so fucking weak. Seriously, I’d have a LOT more respect for them if they were just like, “Yeah, I wanted to sleep with X a lot more than I wanted to date you. I mean, I wasn’t getting anything from you and I just really wanted to sleep with him or her.” That’s at least the truth.

Either explicit or implicit in the person’s defense of his or her actions is the phenomenon of “it just happened.” Which is what I can’t respect. Because there is no such thing. Choices were made. Whether it’s altruistic, self-centered, utilitarian, or nihilistic, people do what they want to do in the moment. And they should own that choice. I’ve sure as hell done stuff that today I wish I hadn’t done, but at the time I did it, I wanted to, which is why I did.

I frequently tell myself that I expect too much from people and am kind of a hard-ass when it comes to people’s excuses. (It’s been a solid 11 years since I read Sartre’s “Huis Clos” (“No Exit”) in French, but that’s where my title comes from). For instance, I don’t accept “I was drunk” as an excuse for stuff. That probably comes from growing up in an alcoholic family, but when people do stuff while they’re drunk, it still impacts everyone else regardless. The law definitely doesn’t accept that as an excuse. I just say that you still make choices when you’re drunk. They may be different from the choices you make when you’re sober, but in the course of that drunken moment, you’re doing what you want to be doing. The hand of God isn’t forcing you to go home with anyone. The hand of God isn’t punching the guy who said your wife’s ugly.

Things don’t “just happen.” We either make them happen or let them happen. So at the risk of being an asshole, people who say, “things just happen” are fucking weak. They make choices, but then don’t want to take credit for having made them. It could be a self-attribution issue. It could be a control issue. But either way, shit, you gotta watch out for people to whom “things just happen.” Those are the people I’m not lending money to, or letting watch my kids, or letting go out on a date with my sister.

The opposite, or at least as I’ve been thinking the past few weeks, is an alternate definition of “poise.” The best definition I’ve come up with is “being in control of your actions, knowing that you're in control of your actions, and taking responsibility for your actions.” Basically, owning your actions. I guess technically, it would be situational poise. Or life poise. At the risk of sounding self-aggrandizing, I’ve never had a problem removing myself from any situation. This has also gotten me labeled “distant” and “cold” and “a loner,” but it stems from two things that are exceedingly important to me, which are control and trust. I always always always want to have control over myself. Maybe this comes from growing up in an alcoholic family too; I’m not sure. But if you throw me in a drunken situation with my ex, there’s no fucking way I’m any threat to sleep with her. Trust me, I’m very good at not sleeping with people. Some might say I’m better than anyone they’ve ever met. Send me out on a long night out and you don’t have to worry about me getting myself into any shit. The “things just happen” mindset is not one I’ve ever been able to understand. I have no problem throwing a stop sign on anything. And neither should you. I have a fucking horrible time trusting people, but those who have “poise,” I’m so much more inclined to try my ass off to trust them eventually. Those to which “things just happen,” no chance. Ever.

As someone who dreams about being a psychologist and thinks way too fucking much, I’ll be the first to tell you about all the complex layers of thought that occasionally go into any minute situation. But sometimes, things really are that simple. A little while back, a friend was lamenting the dating scene and said that all guys want to do is sleep with her and not date her and she said she “didn’t want to be that girl.” I wrote back, “That’s an easy one. If you don’t want to be that girl, don’t be.” She and I and whoever else can’t really control necessarily what people will be looking for. All we can do is control what we do. Why that’s such a radical concept for the “things just happen”s among us, I have no idea.

Also, mailbag on Friday, so if you have any more lingering questions, empower yourselves and send them in.

I'm a ballet mistress. Nothing is simple

I'm gonna pick up some beer. Stay at home. And stare at my Claire Danes poster. She looks so bitchin'. She always listens. She never tells me I'm a loser, loser. Time for Musings!

- You know it's probably going to be a good day when you hear Weezer's "The Good Life" on the radio on your way into work. (I couldn't use it as intro or outro music because I already have). Even when you still have some nasty-ass whiplash from Saturday afternoon. My heart now shakes with dread as to what will now happen to me the rest of the day after saying this.
- So I went to a party last Saturday night (and Friday night too). I didn't get laid, nor did I get in a fight. Trust me on this, both results are good things. And so chosen. (Sorry, I'm foreshadowing an upcoming post). Anyway, as advertised, it was JoshuaTrees' bachelor party Friday and Saturday. I can't say I have any wild stories for y'all. I mean when you've got 3 single guys out of 10 or 11. When pretty much everyone not connected to the party itself jokingly asked me about the lack of strippers jumping out of cakes, I mumbled, "Stupid overly academic people."
- Friday night we went to the Second City mainstage show. Actually, the rest of them went out to dinner at (C0me and Dance With Me) Michael's Pizza, which I didn't need to mention, but it deserves the plug, while I tried to counteract my wicked sangria hangover from the night before. (It was worth every minute of it). Anyway, rather than the show we paid for, they were actually in previews for their next show. So we were essentially watching a dress rehearsal, which didn't quite seem fair to be charged full price considering I once saw previews of a Second City Detroit show for free. And they didn't even do an improv set afterwards. Booooooo! But it was still fun, and admittedly, kinda humanizing to see them fuck up here and there. Afterwards, we went to the Old Town Ale House, which I've generally never had anything nice to say about since it's usually overpriced, overcrowded, and populated with douchebags (although I could probably say the same for any bar around there). But it was mercifully uncrowded this time and as an added bonus, the cast of the show we'd seen came over for a drink and were all too happy to take pictures with JoshuaTrees. Wound up being a lot more fun than I expected.
- Next day started with a game of WhirlyBall. WhirlyBall is essentially jai alai in bumper cars. However, in an attempt to ... heighten the challenge ... they make the bumper cars extra bad. As in they never steer where you want and don't even go anywhere when you press the pedal about 35% of the time. So you kinda never know what you're gonna get. Plus they're kinda tiny, which puts adults in a position for some serious whiplash and I'd actually be worried to hit some smaller people as hard as I did. That said, it was a blast. Would you want Senor Beavis on your WhirlyBall team? Yeah, I think so. My much-derided by JoshuaTrees strategy of hitting the ball along the ground more than picking it up -- "This isn't floor hockey," said the bachelor -- was highly effective, and I definitely dished out a lot more punishment than I took. After some violent collisions with the wall early, I learned that if you get any speed going, you should just look for someone to hit because that beats the fuck out of hitting the wall. And it's more fun. I'll certainly admit to headhunting when I wasn't part of the play. I was a little too proud of almost knocking Sergio dizzy right before the buzzer in one of our games. A good time was had by all, but a better time was had by the winning team, which employed myself. And considering how much my entire body hurt Sunday, I can only imagine what some of the others felt like. We then watched the U.S.-Italy soccer game after WhirlyBall, about which pretty much everything has already been said, and then retreated for a poker game. Considering it was only my second time playing, I considered it a moral victory that I came in like 4th out of 8 despite some outstandingly bad decisions, mostly from inexperience. Naturally, once I lost, I immediately went outside for a walk, since there really is nothing more boring than watching other people play poker.
- So we went out to dinner at Mike Ditka's Steakhouse. While I rarely have good things to say about Mike Ditka's abilities as a football coach or radio/TV personality, I have to give him his props for the food, especially since I did read something about how he's more intimately involved with his restaurant than pretty much anyone else with an eponymous establishment. My steak was awesome validated by the fact that I ate it straight, no sauce or nothing. Great appetizers, particularly the pot roast nachos and giant-ass onion rings. As for sides, everyone at the table gave the dude sitting next to me a strange look when he ordered the table spinach and broccoli, but I wound up essentially splitting them with him and they actually made a much better accompaniment to steak than the traditional potato. Nice, lighter contrast. Plus, pretty much my two favorite non-mushroom vegetables. I even drank a shit-ton of wine, which I do pretty much never. The check, though I was more than happy to have underestimated it in the pool by $250, wound up hitting me for a tie for the most I've ever spent on dinner. I mention this not to be an asshole, but because it beat the colossal fuck out of the last time I spent that amount and I like JoshuaTrees a shit-ton more than the last person I spent that much on. (I think I worded that as a compliment enough to avoid the buzzer). Plus, someone spilled his wine and JoshuaTrees declared that the stain looked like Ditka. If that's not the sign of a good meal, I don't know what is.
- As an interlude, let me say that the Giant Douche Cam was derailed once again. And by what you'd think it would be. No, not a dearth of giant douches. That's NEVER a problem here. My problem is that my camera phone is abysmal at taking photos. That one I posted is the about the third or fourth clearest picture I've ever taken. I have a feeling that whoever designed these things are giant douches that are intentionally subverting the GDC by poorly designing it. You magnificent bastards. (shakes fist)
- The rest wasn't particularly eventful except that we encountered a bachelorette party at Goodbar. They were equipped with the "traditional" bachelorette party accessories. Wang straws. Wang party horns. A book of "scavenger hunt stuff" like getting a guy to tell you three things he hates to hear in bed (they didn't ask me), getting a "gorgeous guy to ..." well, I forget, but they sure as shit didn't ask me for that, getting a guy to give them his underwear. I was like, "No, I'm gonna be walking around a lot. I need that." Every once in a while, my being overly logical pays off. I did let them write, "I love big cock" on my arm with a marker, but I was crafty enough to get them to do it where it would be covered by my sleeves. They wanted to know why JoshuaTrees wasn't wearing boobs on his head. I have no idea what they entails or looks like, but between their stereotypical party and ours, I think we won. It also helped that all the guys there were really cool and easygoing.
- So back to our normal Monday festivities. Time for the Bend It Official Major League Baseball Player Dan Uggla Watch! The Uggla does not fear your authority. 8-22 this past week (.364) with one double, one triple, 2 homers, and 6 RBIs, giving him .314 with 11 doubles, 12 homers, and 42 RBIs for the season. And NOW people are starting to jump on the bandwagon. Said ESPN's Harold Reynolds, "He's got the best numbers of any second baseman in the league." ESPN's John Kruk almost enacted a full sentence in saying, "Should be an all-star." Welcome to the party, ESPN.
- Speaking of, allow me to welcome a fellow Nashville native (fellow to Dan Uggla, not me) to our little sewing circle and extend an official Bend It welcome to Fleurdelis, who now brings our Southern Belle total up to 1. See, we're all about diversity here. Brings our French major total also up to 1. And also brings our lawyer total and people who are married, engaged, or in serious relationships totals up to ... well, a lot. And what a way to start, weighing in with some crushing fashion criticism. If it makes you feel any better, we took a poll at a late juncture on Saturday, and voted 6-0 after seeing one, that what I've now found out from Fleurdelis and another source off site are called "empire waists," although we still call them "maternity shirts," suck. We have issued a joint statement that they better be comfortable.
- I definitely need a temporary name for my much-smarter-than-me friend that fed me this next item because she's been feeding me a lot of content and info over the past week. Hey, don't think I knew that June 16 was James Joyce Ulysses Day on my own accord, though I looked like a fucking scholar when I toasted it on Friday. (I did admit to learning that 24 hours previous during the toast, so I continued my 28+-year string of being overly honest, but not fraudulent). Anyway, because it's World Cup time, she's gonna draw the unofficial title of "Kasey Keller" until a better name surfaces. Reason being so I could give credit for this, a parody of Power Point about Hamlet and probably the awesomest thing (web content-wise at least) I've seen this past week. http://myrtle.co.uk/art/hamlet.
- The Chicago Cubs yesterday celebrated their 6th consecutive loss by signing their 5th round draft pick, pitcher and Notre Dame wide receiver Jeff Samardzija, to a 5-year, $ 7-mil contract. I'm not entirely sure why they did this considering he still plans to play in the NFL, but the Cubs now at least lead the league in one category -- draft picks who look like an ugly woman. Conveniently, here's a video of Samardzija's virtual twin. I apologize for the scarring. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/youtube/random-youtube-finding-of-the-week-180663.php.
- Speaking of Deadspin and ugly women, while this was not on their site, I followed the link to a correspondent's (yes, I'm very jealous) site and actually wound up with a really entertaining take on "Sex and the City." What were the odds on that? http://karmic-payback.blogspot.com/2006/06/o.html.
- OK, I can't let myself off the hook for this. I have to out myself for another "starfucker" moment. Last week, while in process of digging up the Globo-Chem sketch for Kasey Keller, and then for y'all, I came across the Mr. Show college basketball recruiters sketch, for which I dropped the link over to Deadspin, since it's the only sports-related Mr. Show sketch I can think of. Not only did they run it, but I also got an email thanking me from Will Leitch himself, which for me is kinda like getting emailed by Jesus. So first Maureen Ryan, then Will Leitch, if I can get an email from Kristen Bell, that completes the trinity and my life as we know it may cease to exist. Of course, I'm a bit jealous that they're discussing Mr. Show and I can't join in since I'm not an official commentator. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/college-basketball/the-direction-recruitings-obviously-going-181650.php. But you can't have everything.
- For the record, Scientologists would like you to know that they do not condone baby rape. However, they apparently think about it enough to question people about it regularly as a matter of official procedure. http://www.bestweekever.tv/2006/06/15/have-you-raped-a-baby-today/. There is nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.
- Not batting cleanup this week, it's time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner! Chicks wearing argyle sweaters. I wish I had a really good airtight logical reason for this item, but I don't. I guess not everything that goes into one's appreciation of fashion has to make sense. Now this invariably looks silly on guys, which spawned a running joke on the Television Without Pity recaps of Veronica Mars, since Logan and Duncan are both strangely attached to argyle. But on women, especially with at least shoulder-length hair? I don't know what it is. Some combination of the diamonds and boobs maybe? Subconscious accentuation? Argyle sweaters at least universally looking soft? It's a very cuddly look. UPGRADE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- So I read last week that Orlando Bloom and Claire Danes were making out or something at a Black Eyed Peas charity event in London. Christ, you two! You should both be ashamed of yourselves! No, this has nothing to do with the fact that Claire Danes helped break up Billy Crudup's marriage to the infinitely hotter (says me) Mary-Louise Parker (I can't say she "broke up" the marriage because Billy Crudup did at least half of it). Or that Orlando Bloom, despite being a teen idol to many woman and men (I'm not insinuating anything; it's common knowledge that a ton of gay guys dig Orlando Bloom), at least by his interviews, is one of the most boring people in Earth, and also broke up with the infinitely hotter Kate Bosworth. No, this does even have anything to do with making out. Their shame should derive from one thing and one thing only. THEY WERE SPOTTED AT A BLACK EYED PEAS CONCERT.
- And finally, I didn't make this up; I heard it from two different people in the space of 3 days. First from Kasey Keller on Thursday and then Sergio on Saturday. They referred to the lower-back tattoo (and by lower back tattoo, we're talking the centered one, not approaching the hip, just so you know), already the only physicality that approaches deal-breaker status for one Senor Beavis, as "The Tramp Stamp." That is officially awesome. Sergio continued with this gem. "Pretty much any other tattoo, regardless of whether you think it looks good or not, you really can't tell anything about what the person's like. With the lower back tattoo, you know EXACTLY what kind of person it is." There is nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.

Don't be fooled. Don't be flattered. It's not like you ever mattered. Not to me. Aw, Rick James was the original Superfreak!

I know my chicken. You've got to know your chicken

So according to a friend, today is James Joyce Ulysses Day. It has some cutesy name that I forget, but evidently June 16 is the day on which that book takes place. However, I haven't read it, and given the great success I had reading "Portrait of the Artist," probably wouldn't understand it anyway.

So today, I'm conducting a tribute to someone else. Someone much more influential in my life than James Joyce. Perhaps even the one that inspired my love of cooking. No, it's not Giada De Laurentiis. I'm of course talking about none other than the Swedish Chef!


He's been out of the spotlight a bit since the demise of The Muppet Show (I guess smart TV didn't sell in the '80s either; it was probably muscled out by the '80s equivalent of American Idol) and the short shelf-life of his Croonchy Stars cereal. But how many of you knew that he tried his hand in politics, helping to campaign for the confirmation of Supreme Court nominee Robert Bork? He then used his royalty checks to buy season tickets to the Boston Bruins to watch his favorite hockey player, Ray Bourque, in action. And he has continued to inspire me to always sing and make a mess whenever cooking, usually in that order.

If you'd like to see the Swedish Chef in action, and that's really the only way to do him justice, check these out:

Donuts: http://www.youtube.com/watchv=mbs64GvGgPU&search=swedish%20chef
Chocolate Moose: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAsYwW7pt7o&search=swedish%20chef.
Chicken in a Basket: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtxA0iGEMVA&search=swedish%20chef.

"Yorn desh born, der ritt de gitt der gue, Orn desh, dee born desh, de umn børk! børk! børk!" I believe that means, "Look at yesterday's post. It's fucking hilarious. Not the writing, but the content."

"Goodbye, turkey! My attorney will be in touch!" (TM Jerry Reed)

Take it from me, I love you

So I dug up a special treat for y'all yesterday. And it's the kind of thing that needs to stand alone. This isn't a stupid video about "ho-bras" with guys waving rubber snakes. In the words of Ben Stiller in "Happy Gilmore," this is quality shit we're talking here!

I've referenced this Mr. Show sketch, "Swear to God With Reverend Winton Dupree" enough that it just seems right that I should post it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EM4hp9kz_A4&search=swear%20to%20god. I was actually looking around for another sketch about corporate branding for a friend with whom I'd been discussing just that a couple days ago and thought, "Hey, while I'm here, let's look for the Reverend." But as an added bonus, I'll throw in the Globo-Chem sketch. It may take a little while to load, but it's well worth it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICSJ30uwhAU&search=pit%20pat.

While not related to Mr. Show, a couple weeks ago, a friend, same friend as above actually, told me that "avocado" derives from the Aztec language Nahuatl, in which it means, "testicle." While guacamole sadly isn't mentioned, that should give new meaning to this classic sketch here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZnZFHzVcfcw&feature=PlayList&p=56D2AA2D1EEC14E1&index=11.

And finally, it warms my heart to have come across a clip from one of my biggest influences growing up, the Seattle sketch show "Almost Live," which used to run on Comedy Central and featured, among others, a pre-famous Bill Nye. While not nearly the best Lame List at all, it was the only one I found. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VF94zlnBw4U&search=almost%20live%20lame%20list. Enjoy!

The sun always shines on the assclowns

So I’m patrolling Deadspin on a Monday afternoon, which pretty much makes it no different from any Monday afternoon and I come across this: http://www.deadspin.com/sports/college-football/how-to-brainwash-your-baby-early-180095.php. Yeah, it appears to be Baby Einstein-style videos without the awesome Baby Shakespeare yelling, “BLAH!” Rather collegiate fight songs and imagery.

Of course, the first thing I immediately thought was, “Damn, those Notre Dame fans are some scary fucked-up assholes!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction and I’m not afraid to admit it. However, when I clicked the link to the actual site, I discovered that 18 other schools so far were engaging in equally creepy proceedings. Now I know that “equally creepy” probably isn’t correct, since as far as I know, the other 18 schools don’t define themselves by their religion. So as far as I know, little 8-year-old boys and girls in Alabama don’t grow up writing essays for school titled, “Why God Loves the Crimson Tide.” For ND, this seriously happens. I have ironclad testimony. I wonder if the DVD teaches the Notre Dame babies to define themselves by religion first. Shots of kids saying, “I’m Catholic. And my name’s Peter.” But I digress. For the sake of today, all 19 schools are in it together. And I’m sure each school has its own unscrupulous things to teach.

I can’t remember who, I think it may have been Deadspin again, said that of all sports fans, college football fans are the creepiest. Now I can neither really confirm or deny that statement, having come from a college football-who-cares environment growing up, as opposed to say my college roommate who grew up in Columbus, OH, and having gone to a 1-AA football school that plays its games on a field worse than most high schools. In addition, my school wasn’t high in the caring department, although I wonder how much of that has to do with the student body and how much had to do with our basketball team sucking all 4 years I was there. But anyway, this whole baby DVD thing seems a bit on the creepy side to me. I don’t know if it’s the part of me that likes to believe in free will or the part of me that just doesn’t understand the obsessive loyalty. On the other hand, maybe just a little part of me is slightly jealous that there’s a culture surrounding these institutions that inspires such camaraderie as to want to brainwash your children. You know, how cults attract the loners and disaffected who want to be part of something.

I’m gonna take a detour here for a minute. If you notice the DVDs, there’s only a couple of kids modeling for these covers. And given the type of people who are going to buy these things, how do you think they’re going to feel about the same chick dressed up for Alabama as for Georgia. Or that Notre Dame and Michigan have the same little guy? I’m just saying, there, Team Tornante, you better lock it down. If you’re gonna have “i”s in your sentence, fucking dot ‘em!

Sorry, that was just bugging me. Anyway, I’ve been sitting here (well not here, but when I was thinking about it the other day) thinking that I can’t quite figure out where I want to draw my line as to what’s positive community building and what’s scary. So far the best take on such matters is the book “Friday Night Lights.” The movie’s OK, but considerably downplays the author’s ambivalence about the culture, which is far and away the best part of the book. In the book, the whole town is united by high school football, which is seemingly the only thing going on there, but at the same time, the coach and his family are being threatened for losing a freaking high school football game and all the players are doomed to constantly live in the shadows and legends of those who were more successful. (High school football isn’t really big where I’m from either, for the record.) I can’t really determine where exactly the line is crossed or whether there even is one in that the bad inevitably comes with the good.

That said, I still find Baby Aggie or whatever to be pretty damn creepy. But then I looked into my own childhood and have fond memories of Sleepless and my dad singing me “Hail To the Redskins” at every possible opportunity. Or telling me to jump on people’s sandcastles (after dark when they were abandoned, of course) and pretend they were the Dallas Cowboys. Surprisingly enough, at 28, I don’t like the Dallas Cowboys. Diesel’s parents bought their first grandson a Washington Capitals jersey and would take him to games as a baby, even though the goal horn scared the bejesus out of him. But he seems to enjoy it now, I think. My dad taught me how to keep score at a baseball game and all the quirky little rules that go along with baseball and football. (I learned the hockey ones myself). Trying to find a definition that could paint us as good and Baby Wildcat as bad, I guess I could say that mine was an active process and involved parents and relatives spending time with their kids in the course of encouraging fandom. But then again, making your kids listen to this doggerel (http://www.deadspin.com/sports/college-football/drink-like-a-champion-today-171024.php) is an active process as well. So Christ, I don’t know.

If it makes you feel any better, I don’t like when I don’t have the answer either.

And regardless of whatever the line is, Notre Dame fans are still scary, fucked-up assholes. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2006/06/they-had-style-they-had-grace-rita.html).