10/24/2003 01:03:00 PM
That's right, this little slice of heaven is one year old today----never mind that's it's only been actively published to like five months of the last 12, but whatever... The important thing is that I've arranged for Real World - Vegas' Trishelle to jump out of a cake. She wouldn't have been my first choice as I think she was barely the third hottest chick from her own season, but this celebration is really all about you and the multiple readers that come her daily looking for topless pictures of her... Enjoy!!!!
Little tip, when you're having a really, really crappy day all you need to do to snap yourself out of it is close your eyes and channel the theme song to What's Happening? in your head, and pretend as though you're clowning your way through life and down your neighborhood's sidewalk with your good friends Raj, Dwayne and Rerun... Only you'll have to settle for Rerun joining you in spirit, because he died yesterday at 52. Not a great time to be a former sitcom star of the late 70's, huh?... Watch your back, Schneider! Anyway, while Fred had cashed a couple of checks recently for work on Star Dates and Dickie Roberts, he'd also suffered a stroke. The early word on the autopsy is 'natural causes,' though I'm sure it had absolutely nothing to do with blowing, or rather snorting, a million dollars worth of coke through his nose during the early 80's...
Speaking of bad days, I'm working on a maddening 67 consecutive days streak of having suffered at least once through the Fran Drescher Old Navy commercials. While I appreciate the fact that she doesn't talk, or laugh, in the spots, they're still a source of great frustration for me. Yes Fran is aging well, good for her, but did you know the song that's being bastardized is one of Dean Martin's? The original goes 'Sitting on the corner, watching all the girls go by... Sitting on the corner, giving all the girls the eye...' This makes sense, because back in the day (i.e. pre color TV and Xbox), there wasn't much else to do but sit on the corner, or the front bumper of your ride and get your mack on.
But times have changed. And so have the words to Dean's anthem. Now it's 'Standing on the corner watching all the guys go by...,' which doesn't necessarily bug me simply due to the gender change. But ask yourself, what kind of women typically stand on corners? Muscle68'll tell ya, it's hookers, that's who. Hookers stand on street corners all the time, and their livelihood is based on profiling each and every guy that happens to walk by. Might as well have given Fran a couple of lines, "Wanna date? Wanna date?." Seriously, how much does Old Navy pay their advertising agency of record to make our skin crawl.
Not only will I not be buying a pair of Old Navy Painter's Pants, I'd recommend should you hope to gain entrance past the red velvet ropes of a trendy nightclub that you wear something a little nicer then you'll find in the aisles of the O.N.
Finally, I know I'm a little late on this one----but you can find some damn funny stuff here. Although I too have spent many a sleepless night fighting my inner Christina vs. Britney demons, at this very moment you must give the nod to Britney. But who was that pink-haired dancer she had behind her on SNL? Daddy likey... Daddy likey even more then Miss Spears, which probably means she'll never be heard from again.
I can only assume Joey Dupunto translates to 'Joey of the Stroke' in one of the Romance languages. ("Ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso"). Anyway, Joey D. hates this blog. And while I respect his opinion, I'm afraid it's a bit mis-informed and I'm alright with that. Ya see, Strokey, err, Joey thinks I merely use this space to recap what I've seen on MTV, and like Joey says, if he wanted that he'd just watch MTV himself. Of course that would require paying his cable bill on time, and budgeting mom and dad's allowance a little more wisely and not blowing it all on Pez, Mad Dog, Teen Beat and Jergen's, but details...
Anyway, as far as I can tell Joey's dislike of yours truly, is really born out of a perceived slight of his boy Ryan (i.e. Muscle68). I'm good with that. I don't like people taking shots at my friends, though I'm usually wise enough to determine if a shot has indeed been taken. Once the shooter has been effectively identified, I devise a plan to systematically and thoroughly address the situation and determine the necessary measures required to prevent future shots from being taken. That's just me, I mean to me half-cocked is the physical state my midsection awakes each morning, to others it's a constant state of being and a way of life. In fact my method for this particular situation would be much closer to Jake BFO's. Much love J-BFO, and exactly the knowledge I was seeking.
In any case, I'll take full responsibility for opening up this can of worms and not reading Muscle's $40 hooker take a second time or sooner, thereby gaining a complete appreciation for what he's all about. I still think he'd look better with a haircut, and an upgraded wardrobe, and I'm sure deep down he probably agrees. Anyway, he's here to stay on your left, so enjoy...
Speaking of bad hair cuts and cans of worms, someone with a pair of clippers and a big heart needs to have a sit-down with the notorious Tony Pierce. First let me say that I'm a big fan of the 'fro. But Tony's fro appears to be slowly slipping off the back of his head, so quickly that if Tony and I were hanging out, I'd insist on walking behind him with both arms outstretched and palms to the sky ready to make a diving snag just in case the 'fro completely broke free and dropped. That's just because Tony is my, and countless others', inspiration, and I think the best way I could ever repay him would be to make a web gem and keep his 'do from hitting the pavement.
And speaking of my defensive prowess, and taking issue with other bloggers, I think it's an absolute travesty that I went unpicked in the MadPony fantasy draft. Whether it was all in fun or not, if you're playing to win, there's no way I'm not a Top 5 pick. Instead, now I'll settle for free agency, or just arrive in Spring Training as a non-roster invitee. My pants will be tight, and since I've never found a protective cup that adequately covers my nether regions, I'm guessing I'll have to spend the early portion of introductions saying, "Eyes up here girls!" My presence will be known before I even step in the batter's box and commence the hitting display. And then the entire scouting departments of both the Boston Boxerbriefs and Seattle Sexypants will unceremoniously be fired for their glaring inability to recognize talent so obvious and so limitless. After BP I'll hold a press conference and announce my multi-million dollar signing with the Detroit Dirty Fez, the Sioux City Screechbones, or the Miami Moxies.
And with cameras flashing, microphones in my face, I'll say, "First let me say how happy my agent and I are to be here today. This wasn't about the money. I just needed to find a team in either Boston or Seattle's division so I could ensure that never a day goes by when they don't regret overlooking me. I hope they enjoy second place, and looking up at me on top of them, in the standings I mean..."
Let me start by saying, Kool Keith and I are, well....for lack of a better word, Kool. Nevermind the fact that he's a Raider Fan, and he's not going to know what hit him in few short hours when the Chiefs layeth the smacketh down on Monday Night Football with the whole world watching. You can't hold Dante Hall, seriously. He's the Human Joystick, baby! You can try to kick away from him, and you can keep Janikowski off the roofies long enough for him to stay in a lane and play the last line of defense, but you're still going to lose the all important battle of field position all night long. And Bill ain't benching your boy Gannon anytime soon, so get ready for at least one Dexter McCleon pick, and a number of hurries courtesy of Ryan Sims.
But really, all that AFC West Raiders/Chiefs old school business aside, I'll admit I don't quite get the fascination with muscle68, at all, and that I need a little help. And I really, truly don't want this to come off as hatin' on the dude, but I just need someone to explain the appeal and the love to me so I can embrace it too. I mean I understand dude has a digital camera, and he is very (overly?) confident in his outward physical appearance, and obviously thinks the rest of you fools are too since he pushes his image to his site the way I be pushin' good lookin' chicks to mine, or Kool Keith be pushin' comix to his... And I get that like Dante he can't be held, in muscle's case by "society's norms"... Believe it or not, I was 21 with a bad haircut once too. OK, my hair wasn't that whack, but you hear what I'm saying, right? I get it... Dude likes to drink, dude likes to bang, dude likes rocking the backwards ballcap and does not like dressing to impress----at least not until the Queer Eye guys get ahold of him after I nominate his ass. I mean if he truly is as good a guy as everyone else seems to think, then you can't really let the dude rock it like Robbie from Fraternity Life, right? Collars and buttons can't hurt you my brother, only words and sticks and stones...or something like that.
Me and muscle are both 'Paul's' apparently or at least figuratively, and don't get me wrong I'm definitely not going to hate on Paul. We're (Paul and I) both lefties, with staying power, and a penchant for one-legged blondes, um was that out loud? All to say I get why I'd be a Paul, but I'm just not so sure why muscle and I would end up in the same category, that's all.
So is this a case where I'm the last person to realize how truly cool something/someone is like my late discovery of the White Stripes (circa spring 2002) or likewise the Mighty Mighty Bosstones (circa summer 1991), or are you like me and just not feeling it like everyone else is, and like we obviously should be?
For real, if I'm wrong tell me and dude immediately gets sidebarred and an open apology from yours truly for ever doubting his genius and contributions. But I'm gonna have to be sold on this one...
I'm looking forward to some very interesting and insightful comments... No need to come guns a'blazin', we can just keep it thoughtful like, ya heard?
Oh yeah, I'm gonna be Tivo'ing Joe Millionaire so I can watch every second of the rout in Oakland, so don't go telling me what happens and spoiling my viewing experience... Unless you want to tell me how cold that pool looks, cause on the Fox commercials it looks downright, um, is 'nippy' a word?... Indeed! Forget if the dude has money or not, let's see some more shots of the transparent white bikini....