3rd leg
Eyes Up Here!

Saturday, December 07, 2002



Hey Lisa Rinna!

Hey Tony!

Actually this isn’t Tony, I’m…

Oh, hey Hosemonster!

Wrong again. You know I don’t think they have a patent on the blog interview or anything. I’m…

I know who you are.

You do?

Yep. I heard you’re the new uppity bully in Bloggywood.

Uh-huh, what else have you heard?

I heard you recently lost 2% of your readership, and that you’re not pulling your weight in the blog game---whatever the hell that means..

I heard all that too… But since this blog is only a little over a month old, it’s probably still too early to notice any real trends in my readership, right? Besides, hits aren’t my primary motivation for blogging.

Really?

Really…If it was all about the hits, I would have been content with my weekly writing gig for a sports blog that gets 4,000 unique visitors a week.

Wow, 4,000! Does Greg know that?

Don’t get me started… Besides Lisa it could be 4,000 a week or 4,000 a day like Tony probably gets, and at the end of the day all that really matters is writing for yourself.

That sounds like something I’d expect to hear from a guy barely getting 100 hits a day. No wonder Bamboo Lady, err... Greg's Mommy thinks you're a loser!

Whatever. You know you’re awful lippy for a barely working actress?

Ha ha. I’m plenty busy----besides Harry loves my swollen lips.

Harry Connick, Jr.?!?!?

No, my husband---Harry Hamlin.

You mean the dude from Clash of the freakin’ Titans?

He was also on L.A. Law thank you very much. Greg, was right----you are an asshole. With a capital A!

Lisa, you’re not going to get me to say anything else about that guy…Ever…He's closer to the edge than Grand Master Flash ever thought of being, and I'm not going to be remembered as the guy that pushed him off. Besides, my New Year’s resolution is to stop picking on 20 year old kids. Hey, does Perseus also like your swollen breasts?

Everyone loves my swollen breasts.

You’re right… Catchya later Lisa Rinna!

Be nice, 3rd Leg!


Cry Me a River

Friday, December 06, 2002


I’m a pretty easy goin’ guy, and even when I have to smack somebody upside the head, I try real hard not to hold a grudge. But the Ward (specifically, Greg) has me a little steamed… I’ll explain.

Apparently Greg thinks I criticize everything he does. Which is a bit of a reach. Sure I was quick to dub him Mr. 30% after he complained that Ryan gets too much of the credit from the fans of Ward, even though he’s not responsible for 100% of the content. I can’t consciously call that a critique (especially considering that it was Greg that first drew our attention to the 70/30 split!) , more like a little good natured ribbing. The same way I treat all my friends---or at least the people I don’t necessarily loathe (just like LA).

And yea, maybe I implied that he was whipped after his self-imposed ban on blog-stalking Kristin of MadPony, after his girlfriend “found out”. Personally, I didn’t think he had done anything wrong, because really how can you not love the girls of MadPony? As in both Kristin and Lauren… The same…Equally! But I digress---I attempted to offer Greg some words of unsolicited advice. Like how to deflect future allegations, and yes I may have intonated (is that even a word?) that if his g/f was really that upset over such a harmless act, maybe it was time to make her his ex-g/f. My point being, that you can’t be in a relationship with someone that is psychotically possessive enough that she would be willing to use your innocent blog-words against you. I can only assume that these sage words fell on deaf ears (Though that won’t deter me from offering future advice to guys I feel are in danger of losing the battle of the sexes). And before you get upset ladies, I also told him that when the day comes, he should expect to drop more than $3,000 on an engagement ring. See, I’m looking out for you girls too. Then came the final straw…

After Greg posted an intention to get drunk off the Beast (i.e. Milwaukee’s Best), I guess I really crossed the line when I offered to take up a collection so that he could upgrade the quality of his beer consumption. Maybe a nice amber ale. Or something that comes in a (gasp!) bottle. I’m sure he could have found something in a twist off if he manages to exist without a churchkey. I mean after all it’s the season of giving, and I was in a charitable mood, and my Budweiser-swilling dad taught me at an early age that friends don’t let friends drink Beast (or Hamm’s, Keystone, Natty Light, or PBR). But, rather than be nominated for the Blogitarian of the Year award, I got these unappreciative comments:

seems like you criticize everything i do...blah, blah, blah...don't get me wrong, the comments box is here so people can speak freely, and chances are you are just trying to bust my balls in a humorous fashion. but i'm not sure i understand your humor yet. cise on playa.

Of course when he said ‘speak freely’ that was just a figure of speech. Because a few hours later he felt it necessary to remove my non-offensive comments following Megan’s virgin post (and Greg, it’s M-e-g-a-n, with one A---like Asshole!) which neither Megan nor Ryan seemingly had a problem with. Then he chose to disallow comments altogether on his last F-3L post before the X-mas break (just because you turned out the porch light doesn’t mean I can’t hit your glass house with this rock in my hand, my friend).

So obviously I owe a public apology to Greg. My bad… I never would have ‘busted your balls’ had I known your balls were so sensitive----probably from being tightly carried around in the No Trespassing thong all day. Until you switch to boxers, or even try a little free-balling, I will choose my words much more carefully. Like Vince Vaughn exasperatedly and drunkenly proclaimed at the end of Swingers, “I’m the Asshole, right? I’m the Asshole!” And assuming you still don’t ‘understand my humor’ (this from a guy who uses the word ‘cise’)----try reading this paragraph once more with a heavy dose of dripping sarcasm. See, that’s kinda funny, right? Sure it would be funnier if I was talking about somebody else wearing women’s underwear---but you get the idea.

There’s a couple of lessons to be learned here. Should you ever decide to call me out, keep in mind that I have a sharp memory and almost nothing gets by me. And I’m very adept at using your own words against you. Which is a good reason to always say what you mean, and mean what you say.

Secondly, if you’re going to blog, and you’re going to allow reader comments, and you’re going to read the blogs of others, you better develop a thick skin. Or at the very least be confident enough in your own contributions to not give a fuck about what others have to say.

Finally, if Greg ever attempts to contact you be it through AIM, phone or e-mail, stop what you’re doing immediately and respond for the love of all that is holy! You don’t want to find yourself drawing the brunt of his ire, and being responsible for disappointing dozens of his readers.

Of course the real victims in this drama are the loyal readers of Ward, and especially Greg’s fans. If we take Greg at his word, you’ll be enjoying only 70% of the Ward for the next 14 days. If there’s anything I can do for you during Greg’s two or so weeks of self-banishment, please let me know since I’m partially to blame.

As for Greg, I wouldn’t lose any sleep---I’m sure he’ll be just fine. With the extra 2 hours he’ll have per week, maybe he can concentrate on his finals and raise his GPA or have some 'mind-blowing sex' with his hot girlfriend. Uh-huh. And I wouldn’t be at all surprised if his return is sooner than later...I won't however be holding my breath for an apology. Though I'll bet some others deservedly get theirs...

Shouldn't uh left you, without a dope beat to step to...


Alright it's been a couple of weeks since this blog's most popular post which came in rap form... So here's a second rhyme if only to see how many comments it gets... Enjoy!

Meesh is AWOL and she’s got me waitin.
Sarah’s changin’ her layout and it has Tony hatin’.
He also claims to be the blogger with the most pics,
I’m not so sure, but he cures my Anna fix.
Tried to read the Lauren interview, but 404 not found,
Swing and a whiff as if Big Unit was on the mound.
Kristin’s bundled up so she doesn’t get cold,
I’d ask both those sisters out if I wasn’t so old.
I’m cold too so I’m goin’ on vacation,
Off to the Hawaiian version of Raider Nation.
My host’s first name is Kool, last name Keith,
Doesn’t have a Christmas tree, but he hung a wreath.
I wouldn’t know for sure cuz they cancelled my flight,
If being long is wrong I guess I’ll never be Mr. Right.
I bet Raymi likes em’ long but I just don’t know,
She wears granny panties under the mistletoe.
Joe goes big, or Joe goes home,
He writes a line at a time kinda like a poem.
He gets cool points for bloggin’ about Wang Chung,
Which is way cooler than calling 3rd leg Rebel Scum.
I oughta be on the Council, tell Goose you agree,
Even if it means replacin’ Up Yours with me.
LA drops more f-bombs than a truck driver,
Only liked Grease 2 cuzah Michelle Pfeiffer.
Moxie’s takin a break or else she’s got writers’ block,

She’d have plenty to talk about if she ever saw my-----
Oh snap! It’s almost 12 o’clock!
I gotta go, I gotta run cuz more is less, and less is more,
But one more thing before I’m out the door.
30% Greg, and 70% Ryan,
I always drop the truth, even when I be rhymin’.
The Ward’s got merch now, and so does Evan Ames,
I like to get busy, no time for games.
So if you’re a chick send a pic, the dude’s can send links,
Off to settle a score with James Bond---but you know I’ll score with Jinx…

Drums...












About Last Night

Thursday, December 05, 2002


Yesterday was one of those dreary December days that never got above 30 degrees, and where I never got to see the light of day as it was dark during my drive to work, and dark again by the time I left for home.

I had to drag myself to the gym for a delt workout and a little cardio. I was dressed up and I wasn’t thrilled about the additional dry cleaning/laundering bills that come when I stuff my clothes in my gym bag---but there are some things that simply must be done. I’m still only down 2lbs. since the beginning of More and Less, though I’ve only had one Mountain Dew, and surprisingly no stops to Starbucks. Which is quite an accomplishment in itself.

Got home, threw some laundry in the wash, some fish sticks in the oven, and agonized over watching Diane Sawyer grilling Whitney and Bobby, or the Michigan State/Virginia game.

Now, I can still vividly remember when Whitney Houston simply wanted to dance with somebody, and when Bobby Brown was giving his heart to a Roni. With the little that I did suffer through, Whitney now freaks her kid out by singing Jesus Loves Me with old, unsuspecting, off-key white ladies, and Bobby sweats his ass off trying to convince the world that his marijuana use is purely medicinal due to his bipolar diagnosis. Uh-huh. Whitney and Bobby should fire their publicists immediately, because last night only made them look like bigger freaks than I already thought they’d become.

So then it was over to ESPN for the Michigan State game. If I was a blue-chip hooper, I’d seriously consider playing ball in Lansing. Though a school in a warmer city (UCLA, Arizona, Florida) or a program with a little more tradition and a Hall of Fame Coach (Duke) would probably win out. But crappy weather aside, State has a lot going for it. A tough, well-respected, defensive-minded coach in Izzo, a group of rabid Cameron Crazie wannabe’s in the Izzone, an underrated group of cheerleaders, and of course Sarah and Louisiana. Anyway State won, even without the services of Marcus Taylor who thought he was good enough to play in the NBA this year and still hasn’t cracked and NBA squad.


After the game I went to switch my laundry to the dryer, and heard a weird screeching noise coming from my garage. Turns out I finally caught the little punk-ass mouse that’s been trespassing in my house for the last two weeks. At least I hope it’s the same one. How he managed to live that long in a house with two dogs is amazing, but his demise was not befitting of hero status. So he’s caught on this glue-trap but he was especially frisky and part of his body was actually hanging off the trap. Since I didn’t want to risk being bit, aiding his escape, or suffer the trauma of bludgeoning him with a heavy object, I opened up the garage door and kicked him outside so he could freeze to death. If PETA has a problem with that, they can bite me. The way I figure it, eventually it got cold enough that his little heart rate slowed down enough that he simply went to sleep---forever.

Except this morning when I went to retrieve his lifeless body his eyes were still open. Ah well, I’ll get over it.

Almost forgot---I messed around on the web a little and finally figured out what Brooke's daddy did to land himself in the pokey...And it's very, very disturbing---and yes I believe it to be true even if it does come from the Enquirer....

I concluded my night by bumping in to this Kylie Minogue lingerie commercial from the U.K. Let’s just say I still haven’t got her out of my head, and I went to bed completely relaxed and stress free with dreams of a one one one strip tennis match volleying in my head.…

"Kylie, you can not be serious, that ball was on the line!!!"

Game, set, match....Oh behave, baby... Those fuzzy balls aren't meant to be smacked, love!

In an effort to keep it old school-----I am currently listening to Pass the Dutchie by Musical Youth... That's what I'm talking about...


Travis Rules! Most of the time anyway...

Wednesday, December 04, 2002



Transplants (2002)
"Diamonds and Guns"


Bars cut off and sendin me home
Takin more shots than Karl Malone
Battle looms, your doom, injustice entombed
Who got the diamonds? Who gonna find them?
Who gonna find them when the time comes?
Diamonds and Guns, Diamonds and Guns

it's a wicked world that we live in it's cruel
and unforgiving
it's a wicked world that we live in it's cruel
and unforgiving

Knock, knock, knock, who's that? It's Momma, son
Lookin' for the bitch who took the money and run
Now the daylight's gone and there's no more fun
And who's the fuckin' bitch who stole all the heroin?
Heroin, heroin, it's all gone
Smoked it all up, and now you got none
And now you look around and that's not the plan
This is not what you had in mind

I shot in heaven, now I cry
No one lives forever, in fact we all die
From those who bust shots to those who stuff cops
To those who serve rocks on all the hard blocks

Every last soul must pay the last toll
In the dice game of life, who gets the last roll?
Is it the one with the suit? The one with the sack?
The one who hides behind his fuckin' gun and his badge?
Negative outlook? Well that's how I'm livin'
And like he said, it's a wicked world we live in
It's a wicked world we live in

I'm wiggin out, flippin' out, heart is what I'm rippin' out
I'm slippin' out, I'm dippin' out, killin's what I'm livin' out
Pick 'em, let me pick 'em out, spin and let me whip it out
Gat to your face with the fuckin' bullets stickin' out
Missin' out, diss and bout, blood's what you're pissin' out
84 I'm crazy Crazy Horse, shootin' up, I'm illin' out
Rippin' out, I'm trippin' out, different now, I'm pimpin' out
any color at my belt and ouch while theyre clippin out
Criminal I'm hittin' out, in L.A. no gettin' out
2 1 3, pack your P, fly wicked style
Listen now, I'm sinnin' out, a 6-pack I'm sippin' out



it's a wicked world that we live in it's cruel
and unforgiving
it's a wicked world that we live in it's cruel
and unforgiving





Wherefore Art Thou, Meesh?

Tuesday, December 03, 2002


I have seen that dumbass 1-800 Gateway commercial one time too many! You know the one where the African-American woman is using the word 'Way' in as many 'ways' as she can... Do you know the way? My way? To the highway? Enough allfrigginready!!!

I'm also losing my patience for the silence from Meesh. It's been like 12 days since her last post. I could cope when she went silent during her move from Cali to Aspen. But now she's supposedly settled, and I'm starting to worry... What could possibly be keeping one of my favorite blog babes from updating us with stories of her glamorous, ski-bunny life?

Which kicks off the first ever Top Ten at this BlogSpot... And I'm sure it won't be the last.


Top 10 Reasons Meesh Isn't Blogging
10. Still looking for that sexy pic of herself dressed as Princess Leia.
9. Stuck at the top of a double black diamond she can't coerce herself to go down.
8. Deciding whether or not to accept a rose, and a hot tub invite, and a lifetime of bad/sloppy kisses from Aaron, The Bachelor.
7. Having a really shitty holiday season and hiding under her desk until the New Year.
6. Visiting every pool hall in Aspen awaiting an appearance from yours truly.
5. Inventing new ways to wear her panties.
4. Fellow ski bums have no respect for bloggin'.
3. Traded in computer for a killer new snowboard.
2. Has accepted an invite to travel with the Avalanche as a 'good luck charm'.

and the #1 reason why Meesh ain't bloggin--- Still wrapping Ski School 3, coming soon to a crappy video store near you.


She's Not a Girl...

Monday, December 02, 2002



Happy 21st Britney! An occasion which serves as an excellent excuse to post a fairly tame, yet extremely sexy pic of the Birthday Girl.

Ryan from the Ward (or Mr. 70% according to Greg from the Ward) has "devious" plan to get Britney drunk (even though he can't spell her name), and his dad (also celebrating a birthday and who's name I assume he can spell correctly) and a bunch of other dudes laid. (I shudder to think what he’d have in mind if this were Lauren’s 21st birthday----though I’m sure it would be much less offensive and much more endearing. You know since he’s "claimed" her and all. Which I’m sure no one finds offensive or dare I say caveman-esque?). Anyway, I appreciate the offer---really I do, but I think I’ll pass. First off, I’m not really a train kinda guy. I prefer to go Mile High on an airplane for long-distance travel. I’m also not much of a team player when it comes to inter-gender relations. If I can’t be first or if I have to wait in line, then I lose interest awfully quick. Besides I’m a pure point guard, and I am just as content running a little offense, and setting up my teammates for scoring opportunities than I am to put any points on the board myself. So the rest of you guys, God bless, good luck and feel free to give me a call if you need someone to throw you a no-look alley-oop. Just make sure to point at me on your way back up the court, and get your ass back on defense!

I’m pleased to find that the More and Less plan has been received with some enthusiasm. For those of you on board, like Kristin feel free to throw a comment down so that we can all support each other as we tone up before X-Mas. Alright, that sounded a little too Oprah for my taste, but I think you know what I was getting at. But, I did want to offer a couple of clarifications.

Since I’m not drinking as many Mountain Dews or White Chocolate Mochas, I’m going to be drinking gallons of water. And while I’m contemplating the idea of an alcohol-free December, it’s more likely that I’ll go beer-free and instead opt for Long Island Teas or Red Bull/Citrons.

I do have a ‘Before’ pic I could put up, but I completely understand Ryan’s words of reservation. You definitely won’t have to worry about seeing me from the waist down. But still----I know how I’d feel if I stumbled across a shirtless pic from one of the male bloggers I visit daily, and like me, I’m sure you’d rather see Britney. So, maybe I’ll just hold on to the ‘Before’ for the time being… But please know that this decision is temporary, and not at all because I think any ladies would snicker or get an upset stomach. If I am persuaded to put up the pic at some point---maybe it’ll just be for a day or two, and I’ll try to give plenty of warning if that’s not your bag. Always thinking of others---that’s me.

Finally, I could care less if any of the rest of you feel the need to shed a few pounds or whatever. Totally your decision. But Kristin is on to something. Part of her motivation is to avoid the "formerly thin high school girl becomes hefty college girl syndrome". I’d never heard it referred to in that way, or even as a syndrome, but I can attest that it is very real. Even though I’m 10 years removed from high school, if someone tells me they ran in to a former classmate of mine the first thing I ask is "Did they get fat?". It’s not a gender-specific question either, I get just as much joy knowing that the high-school quarterback is carrying a spare tire, as the prom queen who lost her shape after having three kids. I like to think that admission makes me less mean than it does honest.

On the other hand, I’m all about the nameless underdog (especially female) who transforms herself into a knockout and leaves me saying, "Damn, what the hell was I thinking?"



I can also tell you that as busy as some of you guys that are currently in college think you are, it is so much easier to find an hour to get to the gym now, than when you’re working a 50 hour week. I’m guessing it’s a whole lot cheaper too. And with that I’ll let O.N.J. take us out with, "Let’s get physical, physical…Let me hear your body talk, your body talk...". Um, I really don't know what that means either so just go with it, alright?!?!?!









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