Oh, baby, hurt me! hurt me!

If Ortiz continues his heroics this weekend, he will be threatening to replace Jimmy Rice as my favorite Red Sox ever. Man, that boy can hit. 8th inning homer, 9th inning walk-off single. Two clutch hits in two innings, how is that possible?

Also, let's keep Manny on his current tear (9 HRs in 19 games, I believe).

It starts tonight, when we meet the Yanks and beat their Wang.

Okay, let's pretend I didn't write that last sentence...

Grab bag

1) Reason number 6,138 to hate the Colts: they cheat, with their defensive line preaching Denver-esque offensive line tactics. And they continue with their self-righteous indignation. Okay, maybe I'm being a little unfair. But then again, it's the Colts.

2) Freaky realization: if I were ever to suffer an injury that made me chronically in pain and bitter, I would become Dr. House. The Resident Female said as much, "I know you think of things as mean and on target as the things he says. You always tell me about them later." I'm not sure if that was a compliment or an insult.

3) So I finally saw an entire Patriots game for the first time this past weekend, and my initial reaction was, "How's that taste Pittsburgh?!? YEAH!! OH YEAH!!! SUCK IT!!!" Of course, I then realized that I was probably a little over the top reacting that way, and I got to thinking about the game, and I was in a less than stellar mood. Despite the obvious losses of both Harrison and Light, which is big, I still noticed a certain sloppiness in the game. When you look at the stats and the drive charts, the Patriots dominated that game. They moved the ball against them almost at will, Roethlisbergenheimerneimerdisguvix had a craptacular day passing, and their two touchdowns were the results of a safety getting tripped up by another defender and a bullshit pass interference penalty on 4th and forever where the defender was looking for the ball and got flagged anyway. Yet the game was still close, because Kevin Faulk is require to fumble on his 8th, 17th, and 23rd touch of every game and a fluke tip ball that was thrown to the side of the line (and not above it).

Now, don't get me wrong, the Steelers have a very tough defense and create a lot of pressure and turnovers on their own. However, it felt more like the Pats were messing up than the Steelers were suddenly figuring them out for one play after getting their territory marched over like it was the French countryside. There still seems to be a disconnect about the team, a lack of crispness, that hadn't really shown the last few years.

Oh well. I'm sure it will work out. I said if they make it through the first six games at 4-2, I'd be fairly high on the team's chances, and they are halfway there. Hell, if they enter their bye week 5-1 with the only loss to an NFC team, I'll still be ecstatic. If they go 5-1 and drub the Colts in week 9, well, I think we might well witness the first 3-in-a-row superbowl champions. Well, all that remains to be seen.

4) On the plus side, the Resident Female is floating on air since her Queen City Thundercats have the inside track on homefield advantage, being 3-0 for the first time since they last made the playoffs, which was when she was 8.

Reflection

As I am sitting in my apartment, having just watched Wakefield mow down the Jays and am hoping that it will be more of the same when Schilling takes the ball tonight, I've realized something:

The Red Sox will be okay. Today was potentially going to be the most important day of the season, as Wednesday could have seen the Sox up a game in the division or two back. Now that the 2-back scenario is off the table, and a divisional lead is still on it, I'm feeling a lot better. Regardless, even if they don't make the playoffs (and even if it is a crushing fashion in Fenway at the hands of those who must not be named), I think I will have a positive outlook on the team when all is said and done. That this year's Sox are a flawed team makes last year's victory that much more special. If the Sox were the best team that money could buy and just steamrolled through the season, it might have cast last year's victory as inevitable.

Yet here they stand, with 7 games left, tied for the division lead, fighting for their playoff lives, as a flawed team. Sure, the faces from last year are a bit different, and they've struggled through some pretty ugly stretches of baseball, but their struggles and their weaknesses make last year's run that much more beautiful. As the 2004 team fades into memory, and the scars from that success weakened this team by claiming Schilling and Foulke's seasons, it becomes that much more poignant that the magic of that season was truly a coalescence of miracles and fortune into the beautiful symphony that is baseball. The run was possible only by the greatest comeback in baseball history, the creation of a new medical procedure, and possibly at the expense of two pitcher's careers. Everything came together in a few short days to put together 11 wins for a team that may not have been the best one on the field, for a team that looks like it may not be even given a chance to replicate that, much less actually do it.

Which isn't to say that the Sox can't do it again. I look forward to them slamming Toronto and New York and steamrolling through the playoffs on the strength of Ortiz and Manny, Wakefield and Papelbon, Varitek and Nixon, Mueller and Damon. But if they don't, and the offseason continues to shape the team away from the aging bodies of 2004 into a new, lithe team that is a product of our farm system, I know I will still have enjoyed 2005 more than any other sports season I have ever followed. Whether we win the world series or fail to make the playoffs, the end is near, and we are witnessing both the beauty and the humanity that is the last days of the Boston Red Sox: 2004 Defending World Champions.

Damn Skippy!

It's time for another installment of Skip Bayless Says, this time in an article about Barry Bonds:

Skip Bayless Says: He continues to astonish, with his bat and his mouth.
Skip Bayless Means: At least that is what Kimberly Bell has been telling me.

SB says: Barry Bonds is again proving to be the greatest hitter and biggest jerk in baseball history.
SB means: I fantasize about him while I masturbate.

SB says: Feel free to substitute less printable terms for jerk.
SB means: You know, so it looks cooler. Throw in a word that has greek letters and maybe the sign for Prince, since my keyboard doesn't have that. That'd be really cool.

SB says: No athlete I've been around has mixed my emotions the way this guy has.
SB means: So beware, Barry. Hell hath no fury like a writer scorned...

SB says: Mixed 'em like a Molotov cocktail.
SB means: Or concrete. People also mix concrete.

SB says: I used to be able to forget all the bad stuff when Bonds anchored his left leg in the batter's box.
SB means: I'm a Pirate and uses terms of the sea! Arr!

SB says: I finally find myself rooting against this big, uh, jerk.
SB means: If I write like I talk, uh... Oh, never mind.

SB says: As a sign at RFK Stadium on Tuesday night said: "Junk Bonds."
SB means: You get it? It's a pun! Because, you know, his last name is Bonds, and there is a financial product called bonds that can be rated as Junk, and they equated the two because they want to get rid of Bonds for being on the junk. It works on so many levels!

SB says: But yes, his comeback has been even better than James Bond in "You Only Live Twice."
SB means: My editor's made me change it to this. I originally had it as Jesus in that Passion movie.

SB says: At 41, the man didn't even need a minor-league rehab stint.
SB means: You see, because he's older than 18, he isn't a minor. Get it?

SB says: And that's what makes me -- and others inside the organization and close to the Giants -- suspicious.
SB means: I got an official crime-stopper badge in my box of Captain Crunch, so this week I'm playing detective.

SB says: he told reporters with a chuckle that he sometimes misleads them just to get even for all the "negative stuff" they write about him.
SB means: And since I'm a reporter, he is mocking me. Mocking me!?! That son of a bitch! If he weren't all roided up and three times my size, I would knock his block off. However, instead I will continue the cycle by insinuating the guy didn't have surgery.

SB says: And yes, Barry, it was our fault that you dumped your longtime mistress after moving her to Phoenix and that she hit the talk-show circuit to say you often talked to her about your steroid use.
SB means: You see, now I'm mocking you. How you like that? Stings, doesn't it?

SB says: It's quite possible he simply decided to take his home-run balls and go home.
SB means: Of course, considering how long he's been on the juice, it's pretty incredible that his balls are still of the home-run variety and not shriveled to the size of raisins.

SB says: Was that too much to ask of a guy who's making $22 million this season, a guy who was allowed to spend most of the summer at his home in Beverly Hills, Calif.?
SB means: If I point out that Bonds is rich, I might get other people to hate him, too. That smug, rich bastard.

SB says: He just wanted to remind everyone that he's Barry Bonds
SB means: Of course, he could have just got some business cards and handed them out, or maybe worn a sign around his next, but he figured this would work, too.

SB says: Way to help your team, Barry.
SB means: Sarcasm makes baby Jesus cry.

SB says: Magowan had had enough of his $22 Million Disappearing Man.
SB means: Now he is going to pay $2.7 Million to a little kid in the stands for his Stretch Armstrong doll.

SB says: He wanted to rub Congress' nose in it right under Congress' nose.
SB means: Wait a minute, how can you rub someone's nose in something if it is under the very nose which you perport to be rubbing it in? Wow, I guess I sure picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue...

SB says: Either Bonds has been very lucky or very clean, or he has hired very good lawyers.
SB means: Wow, I really don't understand what the word "either" means...

SB says: Tuesday at RFK, Bonds set another major-league record for audacity.
SB means: Shattering the record previously held by Don Mattingly for his stubborn refusal to comply with Mr. Burns' sideburns requirement.

SB says: Bonds said: "Pretty much, I think so. Yeah."
SB means: But he sounded much more definative and authoratative. You gotta believe me! He's a dick!

SB says: We have a crisis here that everybody needs to start contributing to.
SB means: If your not contributing to the crisis, that means you are being helpful, which has no place in this world.

SB says: The nerve of this guy using the Gulf Coast disaster to trivialize the seriousness of the steroid epidemic facing this country.
SB means: Because, you know, people may be dying and having their lives ruined, but damn it, I don't get paid to write about that stuff. Barry, stick to important things like why you suck and should go to hell.

SB says: But kids' emulating their heroes and using unsupervised mega-doses of black-market steroids is an entirely different issue.
SB means: But if they have the proper supervision while juicing up, that should be okay. Also, I like putting stray apostraphes into my sentences for no reason.

SB says: Apparently, Bonds didn't watch the March testimony of the parents who lost children because of steroid abuse.
SB means: I also heard that he only watched the second half of the season finale of Lost. The schmuck.

SB says: He's all but daring them to.
SB means: Which is good, because I was getting tired of him always choosing truth.

SB says: He's Barry Bonds and they're not.
SB means: Which is why they have different names and addresses.

SB says: And even I can no longer root for him.
SB means: Which is bad, because if a huge whore like me doesn't like someone, well, that's pretty bad.

Well, duh!

From the comments section in the last post:

Anonymous said...
Correction:The Chupacabra is a mythic Puerto Rican Goat Killer. Perhaps Mr. Backhair was thinking about the Cucooi, the mythic Mexican creature that eats little children if they do not clean their rooms.This gaff can be forgiven seeing that a non-native Spanish speaker actually knows about the Chupacabra.

I respond: Well, duh. Of course I knew that. I actually posted his email because I thought it was so ridiculous that he made that mistake. Why else would I post an email about the intimate details a friend's personal life where he makes a mildly amusing mysoginistic comment other than to point out that his knowledge of Latin American folklore is suspect? Come on now, give me some credit...

(Actually, thanks. I always appreciate these little tidbits, as I find random facts, as well a child eating, fascinating.)

Musings, Ponderings, and Eastern Equine Encephalitis

1) So, at the Resident Female's urging, I have now seen Fever Pitch, which is of course the Bostonized version of Fever Pitch. Now, I tried to put aside all my skepticism going in, most notably that the lead actor is the acting equivalent of Willaim Hung, the lead actress hasn't had a major part in a good movie since she starred alongside Shelley Long in 1984, and that I still view the original movie (about soccer) as one of the best movies made in the last ten years. I even was somewhat secretly hopeful, because I'm constantly rooting for the Farrelly brothers to recapture their Dumb & Dumber/There's Something About Mary magic from earlier in their career (Little Rhody representin'!). Regardless, despite a few chuckles, it was brutally bad, and here are some random observations that I still haven't worked out in my head:

- Why didn't Jimmy Fallon ever wash his hair through the entire thing?

- Drew Barrymore has lost all of her beauty. Now, crazily enough, when she is on camera, her face makes her look contropuntily either fat or immaciated, yet never anywhere in between. I don't know what the hell is going on with that, but there is no way it is organic.

- First, Drew Barrymore is never again to be cast as a mathmatician. Ever. I think we can all agree on this. Second, she was making up business models and market predictions, which means she wasn't actually a mathmatician, but really an economist and/or business analyst. Am I the only one this pissed off?

- In the original, they had Colin Firth have a few scattered pictures of Arsenal place around his apartment, and even had a scene where he was wearing the team's underwear. Okay, that was funny, subtle, and effective. In this one, they had red B's draped everywhere in Jimmy Fallon's apartment, with an entire wall of just Sox bumper stickers. This is the reason why I hate Hollywood humor:

"Hey, guys, you think the audience will get the joke that he really likes the Red Sox?"
"Probably, but, well... ah, hell, let's put up an entire wall of the logo to be on the safe side."

- I hate the way that Sox fans (or any fans, for that matter) come across in the six second media segments of yahoos that get posted everywhere. This was a 90-minute version of that.

- I've seen better chemistry between the leads in a snuff film.

- Also, the characters were charicatures of jokes of impressions of jackasses. None of their actions made any sense whatsoever. Also, why the hell did he have to sign the papers at the ballpark? That I don't get.

- Alright, enough of that.

2) Though I am now completely convinced that Hollywood has entirely run out of ideas. I wouldn't be the least bit to wake up tomorrow and see a trailer that went like this:

Coming from Paramount Pictures:
When we run out of proper ideas and recycled garbage, it's time to unlock the vault and finally allow people to see the single scariest horror movie in the history of cinema:
Arnold Schwartzenegger
Sylvester Stallone
and Peter North
in
"Stop that! We're out of lube!"

Opens Christmas Day

3) Screw the Yankees, screw the commishoner's office, and screw no off-days. The 30 games in 30 days thing totally wore the Sox down to the point where they might miss the playoffs. Seriously, the last 7-10 games they were sleepwalking through everything. I still think the Sox will take this, but man, they really should have put the Yanks away a long time ago, and the play of late has just been attrocious. Well, it should all come down to the three games at Fenway.

4) Pats lose to Carolina. Wish I had seen it instead of being on a plane, so I could actually have any sort of sense about why the Pats lost. Between Grad school and personal issues, I haven't seen either of the Pats games, and I haven't seen a full Sox game in weeks.

5) However, I was at the Nats-Giants game for Barry's first away game of the season. I snuck over to left field with the Resident Female and screamed taunts at him the whole night. My section was definitely beratting him all night, and it was magical. Sure, he hit a home run and the Giants ended up winning, but I still had a great time.

6) Email of the week (from about 2 weeks ago), comes from Teddy Backhair, on why he broke up with his girlfriend of six weeks:

"While I say it was because she is annoying, stupid, moody, bitchy, and somewhat clingy, I really broke up with because one morning I woke up, looked over at her sleeping, and from that angle I realized she looked a little bit like Chupacabra. You know, the mythic Mexican goat killer. I still shudder when I think of it."

Grab Bag

"Sure, the British women are ugly, why else did their husbands flee the country and try to colonize theworld? Get away from their womenfolk. When that plan fell through and the empire collapsed, they went to plan B, which is a pub on every corner and a picture of Elizabeth Hurley on every headboard."

"Therapy can be very good; it can be theraputic." -Alex Rodriguez

Think of the children! You're a Catholic and he's an asshole, how would you raise them?

And since, according to the Big Bang theory, the bang was supposed to have happened at the beginning, the big bang leaves out the bang. It tells us nothing about what banged, why it banged, how it banged, or, frankly, whether it ever really banged at all.--Brian Greene, The Fabric of the Cosmos

Isnt it strange that whenever you're single, all you see are couples? And when you're part of a couple, all you see are hookers?

Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler.- Albert Einstein

Esoteric? That's a word only smart people know!

"I dont have a girlfriend, but I do know a girl who hates it when I say that." -Mitch Hedberg

And remember, nothing says 'Good Job' like a firm open-hand slap to the behind.

Heisenberg might have been here.

Who wants happiness? It cant buy you money.

If they could turn shit into ink, they would use it to print Jane Austin novels.

Khan!

The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

Nudity: Its fashion made simple.

Originality is nothing more than an inability to conform.

.cixelsyd eb thgim uoy ,siht dear nac uoy fI

Going to be a down week

Going to be a down week with posts, as some family issues have come up.

But, just to tide you over until I am back to my cheerful self, here is reason #368 that I hate the Colts. Boo freakin' hoo, play the fucking game.

Also: Dexter Reid sucks; he single-handedly made the Superbowl close after Eugene Wilson went down

Also: The tone of the article is agreeing with a bunch of morons who are upset that the other team didn't stop trying. This is like someone getting confused when an animal in a trap is still struggling: just because it doesn't have a chance doesn't mean it should just give up.

Also of note

1) After seeing this, W responded, "Pretty much, yeah."

2) Throw-away tennis joke of the day: James Bond (the Sean Connery version), while infiltrating a group of trust-fund owning terrorists, starts hitting on his doubles partner. After they make love on the court, the woman turns to him and says, "James, how old do you think I am?" Bond thinks about it for a second, then says, "Fifteen, love."

My High School Graduation Speech

The Resident Female and I are off to do fabulous things, so I thought I would post the speech I gave at my high school graduation:

Hello fellow students, faculty, families, and friends. Webster’s dictionary defines "Clichéd" as "any speech that starts with a definition from this dictionary." When I read that, I take that to heart. It makes life seem like a never-ending road of choices. Choices that we will have to make. Symbolic choices, like that one that I made the other day. You see, two roads diverged in a yellow wood. And I, I took the one less traveled by. Do you know why I did that? Any of you? Because it was symbolic of the future we all have. For there will be choices like this in the future for each and every one of us. And I know that many of you out in the audience have made this decision before. You took the one less traveled. And it is important for all of us to remember: Jenny Miller lives up that road. You need to get off main and drive up Pottersville to get to her house. She is having the graduation party tonight, so we all need to go there. The party is there because her parents are, like in a bad teen movie, conveniently out of town for her graduation. I know that for a fact. I was there last night, if you catch my drift, heh, heh, heh, heh. You know what I mean, right. We had a little nudge nudge, wink wink. Yeah, that’s right. And it was good. She told me it was the best 30 seconds of her life.

But I digress. I know many of you have been in that situation before. I know many of you have decided to get off that busy main street and on the less traveled and windy road to Jenny’s house. And I say this to all of you so that you know this: it is not as un-traveled as all of you think. And as you go out into the world, I want you to think about this: the Westport Apothecary does sell that shampoo for getting rid of crabs. It’s in the third aisle. I suggest picking up a bottle before you embark on you life’s voyage if you plan on having any fun, especially if you have gone up Jenny’s less-traveled road.

I know many of you plan to go to college. And I also know that many of you will drop out after one year. And yet some others will just never go. I know that when I come back for my summers, having spent large majority of my time drinking, you will still be here, married and working a menial job because you knocked some slut up. And I say this from the deepest corner of my heart: You deserve it.

For the past twelve years, since I moved here in first grade, you have all made my life a living hell. And God was watching. So enjoy your pathetic little lives, and I will go to college, get a great job, make lots of money, and buy a wife who is more attractive than any of you could ever dream of. Suckers. None of y’all be getting’ my props. I'm outtie.

Pats win!

1) So I did a pair of posts yesterday, so please be sure to check them both out.

2) Reason # Who's counting as to why I love Tom Brady: after the interview (and just about every other one that I've seen the guy do) he stopped the reporter and said, "hi mom, dad, " and about 6 or 7 other names. To sum it up: he is a huge dork, and I love every minute of it. Seriously, watching him on the sidelines trying to fire up his teammates, spiking the ball in the endzone after a rushing touchdown, trying to dance at a superbowl parade, or just talking in an interview, you see that the best quarterback on the planet is also a huge dork, and it makes you feel so good. Seriously, how could anybody look at his enthusiasm and just general ridiculousness and not love the guy? Or at least outside Indy? I mean, he is like Papi without the strike arguing or watching the home runs.

3) Which brings me to the next point: it is an unbelievable time to be a Boston sports fan. Don't ever let it be said that I don't appreciate how fantastic it is that I get to watch one of the best dynasties in NFL history, the first world champion Red Sox in four generations, the induction into the hall of possibly the greatest offensive Bruin in history and to be soon followed by the best defenseman since Bobby Orr (77 for life!). The only sad part of this is that it almost likely will never be this good again in my lifetime.

4) Sox lost, but so did the Yankees, so the series opens with a 4 game lead in the loss department. Should be fun. Screw the MFY.

5) I was very confused by ABC's commercial schedule, but since there were fewer than I expected, I guess that is a good thing. I liked what I saw out of the Pats, though I'm not sure if the negatives were because of a vanilla scheme (why waste new plays on an inferior opponent?) or cause for concern. Well, it gets tougher over the next 5 weeks. Well, if we go 6-0, as I think I've said before, I think I will crap myself as they almost garauntee another bitching playoff run. 1-0 is the only way to start.

6) Richard Seymour was everywhere last night. He deserved that extension.

7) Two posts yesterday, and one took forever to write, so I think this abbreviated one is cool. Screw Flanders.

Bonus Post!

In an ongoing effort to complete my community service requirement from the... Incident... I've decided to offer up my services as a translator and empath. Here is a link to a story by Skip Bayless, ESPN's answer to the EEO policy that mental deficiency is not grounds for discrimination, from which I will clarify the somewhat confusing sentences that he spewed out. Special thanks to Jose Melendez at Wallball Single for the idea (he does Tony Castrati). Without further ado:

Skip Bayless says: Tonight, they will scare all those who dare to doubt their chances of winning a third straight Super Bowl.
Skip Bayless means: An inside source told me they will all come out wearing hockey masks instead of football helmets

SB says: This time, the Rolling Stones will provide the sound track.
SB means: Which is unfortunate, because I always preferred Bread.

SB says: Coach Bill Belichick will do what he has always done best -- figure out some hard-to-figure way to disarm the opponent's most dangerous weapon.
SB means: No Raider will re-enact that scene from The Last Boyscout on his watch!

SB says: In his Oakland Raiders debut, Randy Moss will experience a long, frustrating, leave-the-field-early kind of night.
SB means: There won't be any single chicks playing for the Patriots

SB says: The Raiders' potentially explosive offense will look 49ers-like, making you say, "Belichick's system is so good that he could have replaced Bruschi and Johnson with Mick Jagger and Keith Richards and kept Moss out of the end zone."
SB means: Because, you know, linebackers don't usually cover wide receivers, so even if they are old and high and don't do their job, Moss still won't get into the end zone because of the Patriots secondary.

SB says: And for three-plus hours, all the Doubting Tom Bradys like me will watch Brady pick apart the Raiders' defense
SB means: I forgot what my name is, but I doubt it is Tom Brady.

SB says: and we'll say, "What was I thinking to pick against these guys?"
SB means: Don't answer that! It's rhetorical!

SB says: I've spent a month trying to argue myself out of the Patriots.
SB means: But I'm a whore, and if they want me, well, I'm all theirs.

SB says: At times, straddling the fence has been nearly as uncomfortable as accidentally slipping forward off my bike seat as a kid.
SB means: I did this a lot. It helped pass the time until I could find more tasty paint chips.

SB says: I definitely felt a little queasy the night of the Patriots' all-important third preseason game, at Green Bay.
SB means: This is the last time I eat fuzzy, week-old pizza that I find under the couch.

SB says: Maybe I should forget about trying to talk myself into the Colts,
SB means: But I've already admitted I'm a whore, so they can have me, too.

SB says: The man can make himself invisible in pass coverage,
SB means: I read somewhere that he was on that spaceship with the Fantastic 4 when it was hit with cosmic radiation, and like Sue Storm, he too gained the ability to become transparent.

SB says: his nose for the ball is right there with Ed Reed's.
SB means: Why these two players are both sticking their faces into the same ball is beyond me.

SB says: No, Bruschi is one cog that cannot be replaced with some Monty Beisel.
SB means: It will take ALL of Monty Beisel, so it is important that he not lose any limbs.

SB says: That point was emphasized to the 42nd power Saturday night in Notre Dame's 42-21 dismantling of Pitt in Pittsburgh.
SB means: If I put math in my column, it makes me sound more important.

SB says: Suddenly, a failure of a quarterback named Brady Quinn looked like he deserved a Tom in front of his name.
SB means: And while we're at it, let's throw "the Eskimo" at the end. And maybe a "Logan" before the "Tom". Wee, this is fun!

SB says: Without Weis, Tom Brady will occasionally look a little more like the sixth-round choice he once was.
SB means: Apparently, over the last few years, Weis used to call the plays and do Brady's make-up.

SB says: Which brings me to the only reason powerful enough to keep me from picking the Patriots again.
Just because.
SB means: My editors wanted me to write a column, so I had to write something. So what if I don't really know what I'm talking about.

SB says: Jerry Jones said: "There's a reason no one has ever won three of these in a row."
SB means: He also had a face lift, and now his skin is all oogy.

SB says: You can't make much more than a whistling-through-the-graveyard case for anyone else.
SB means: I have no respect for the dead.

SB says: where Belichick's defense turned Peyton into Eli in a playoff stunner.
SB means: That's supposed to say "an Eli", because we all know that Yale Football stinks.

SB says: Brees will be the NFL's Most Disappointing Player.
SB means: Either I still haven't mastered capitalization, or the league has started giving out gag awards.

SB says: The Steelers will again be hellaciously good on defense, but Ben Roethlisberger will no longer shock defenses with his ability to scramble.
SB means: Instead, he'll shock them with his heavenly singing voice.

SB says: If I had any guts, I'd pick the Bengals to win the AFC.
SB means: But, as you can see from my picture, I was actually mummified and all my internal organs are secured in several canopic jars as an offering to Anubis.

SB says: Rudi Johnson isn't Corey Dillon,
SB means: Or Chef Boyardee, for that matter. Which is too bad, when you think about it, because if he ever got injured he could just fall back onto his successful line of canned goods to earn his living.

SB says: Marvin Lewis is another head coach who can flat-out coach defense.
SB means: Ever notice how the ones that coach the round-in style of defense tend to get fired?

SB says: The schedule is user-friendly enough
SB means: See! You just look at it and tells you when they are playing what teams and where! What a great invention!

SB says: But I don't have enough conviction to predict that.
SB means: So I just wasted 5 minutes of your life arguing for something that I don't actually believe in. Paid by the word, bitch!

SB says: Terrell Owens has reeled back in his teammates
SB means: I like fishing.

SB says: How some analysts are making a case for the Vikings is beyond me.
SB means: Then again, so is long division.

SB says: Given their preseason hype, the Vikings will be the NFL's Most Disappointing Team.
SB means: If they are giving the award to a player, they might as well give one to a team as well.

SB says: Michael Vick the running back ultimately won't be able to offset Michael Vick the quarterback.
SB mean: If Vick plays two positions, that means there will be only 10 men on the field, which puts the Falcons at a disadvantage.

SB says: Carolina will win the NFC by default.
SB means: I predict the other 5 playoff teams will all forfeit their games.

SB says: Then again, Jake Delhomme has a little Jake Plummer in him,
SB means: Jake Delhomme catches and Jake Plummer is hung like an elf.

SB says: Indianapolis. There. I talked myself into it.
SB means: I told you I was a whore. Bring it on, boys!

SB says: In Indianapolis, the Patriots will fall.
SB means: Which will be a delightful change of pace from the usual rain or snow.

SB says: Peyton Manning will be a deserving Super Bowl winner, Bayless wrote with trepidation.
SB means: If I hit ctrl+i, I can make the letters all slanty!

Responding to a veritable explosion of Simpsons quotations

1) From the "My god, it's like my nightmare has turned into reality" department: While walking to the Metro this morning, the Resident Female and I were nearly run down by a pudgy guy with a pony tail in a Hawaiian shirt that looked suspiciously like Richard Dreyfus who was pushing a stroller with a baby that was a dead ringer for Gene Simmons. I wish I were kidding. My heart is still pounding.

2) From the "My god, my first impressions are so off that it's a wonder I've never drank Pinesol" department: I was pretty sure I saw a cop putting a parking ticket it on his own window, but it turned out he was just cleaning his wipers.

3) From the "I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for this, but it sure makes the last point a little less stupid" department: Half a block before seeing the cop, I noticed that a car parked legally and before the metering had started for the day had a ticket on the windshield, but the car illegally parked behind it in front of a fire hydrant didn't have a ticket.

4) From the "He quite blinking, he says that's when they get ya'" department: I warned ya! Didn't I warn ya? That colored chalk was forged by Lucifer himself!

And from the "My car gets 40 rods to the hogshead, and that's the way I likes it!" department: Marge, dont discourage the boy. Weaseling out of things is important to learn. Its what separates us from the animals...except the weasel.

Not doing it for you? Alright, fine, how about from the "loquacity is the opiate of the voracious grammarians" department: Forbearance is the watchword. That triumvirate of Twinkies merely overwhelmed my resolve. Now there's a Machiavellian countenance… ooh, a sextet of ale.

5) From the "Man, this gag is running thin, so I'll give you an amusing anecdote from high school to make up for it" department: In freshman biology, during the first week of school, I killed a fly in a rather spectacular fashion. The thing had been buzzing around the teacher for a while, then finally landed on my open textbook. The teacher said, "don't move" and grabbed his ruler from his desk in preparation to kill it. However, before he could, I slammed the book shut as his back was turned, creating a ridiculously loud noise and smushing said fly. The teacher and the class were so startled by the noise that everyone jumped and the teacher even dropped his implement of fly destruction. So proud was I of my kill that I proceeded to draw a circle around it's carcass, as well as several arrows pointing to it, effectively making the two pages incomprehensible and lavishly decorated.

About a week later, a southern girl, let's call her Sasha, joined the class, having missed this incident. Now fast forward to exam review time. Sasha, as was her custom, had forgotten her textbook, and was looking in on my book. We get to the material on the page with the dead fly. I flip to it, and there is the dead fly, still smushed inside the circle with the arrows pointing to it. With the class dead silent, Sasha ejaculates, "Oh my God! That's amazing! How'd you kill that fly right in the middle of that circle?"

6) From the "Okay, before I stop with this stupid format I've got one last thing to say" department: GO PATS!!! Opening night, game starts at 9. The Pats' quest for three straight begins in 12 hours.

This cursed O Grab Me!

1) So there seems to be an embargo on Gillette Mach 3 razor catridges in the cities of Baltimore and Washington, which needless to say is somewhat perplexing. I have been to 3 CVSes, a pair of Safeways, and a random convenience store, and they all were out of them. Okay, what the hell is going on? Did a shipment to the area get hijacked and not reported? Or is someone out there hoarding cartridge replacements thinking that some disaster is likely to befall DC, deciding that if he is going to be homebound he at least look clean shaven doing it? Either way, I'm using a freaking disposable piece of crap tomorrow, and I aint happy.

2) So I am officially ready for the football season now. I have sent in my division picks for my pick 'em pool, sent in my schedule for the survivor league, drafted my survivor teams with Sung-Ho Mpenze O'Shea, and read up on the predictions at Footballoutsiders.com. However, the one thing that was lacking I officially covered last night. I drove to Baltimore to visit the Friendly Re-districted ColOmbian, and we watched the three season recap videos for the Pats superbowl seasons. Man, that was fun. Much like the Belichickian philosophy, I am now ready to put the three previous superbowls behind me and focus on climbing the mountain once again. After a restful offseason, the liver is pristine once again, the throat is no longer sore from screaming, and the eyes are set for more Peyton Manning disgusted arm flailings. I love football!

3) Hey, Soscia: same shit, different day, huh?

4) I arrived home from Baltimore in time to see the last 2 innings of the Sox-Angels game, including Wakefield finish up his complete game and watch Papi destroy that Scott Shield's pitch in the bottom of the ninth, then switched over to the Yanks-Tuberculosis game in time to see Bernie "Don't call me Arthur the Aardvark" Williams line into a double play, Mariano "Fruit Bat" Rivera get pegged with a loss, and Derek "My father was a greaseball and my mother was a garden gnome" Jeter end the game by grounding into a double play. Tampa, the team with the lowest payroll in baseball, officially clinched the season series against the most expensive 89-win team in history. What a great night.

4) Hmm... This entry seems a little short...
Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders! Screw Flanders!

5) Housekeeping item: if you would like to insult me in the comments section, I do ask that in the future, perhapes a quick typo check would be nice, as would learning how to spell the word "Fellate". Also, for the record, my preferred type of feline fellatio is a leopard, though occasionally I will settle for a jaguar or even a puma.

You're excited? Feel these nipples!

1) Have had a very relaxing weekend, and it was much needed. Watched a lot of movies and watched a lot of baseball, not to mention reading a bunch of economics. Good times.

2) As I've said previously, netflix is allowing me to see every bad movie I never wanted to pay a few bucks to see. This weekend, I saw two: Diggstown and Invasion of the Body Snatchers (and the original about a week ago). Diggstown was unbelievable. Basically, the movie was littered with random sports cliches, "that guy" actors, terrible boxing scenes, and James Woods humor. Throw in that you have Heather Graham before she was hot and Alvin Mack from The Program, and the movie just exudes the "I know this isn't good, but I'm enjoying this a lot" feeling, especially as the whole things flies apart at the ending, dropping from mildly plausible to utterly random. Oh, and to top it all off, you get to see Jesus call someone a nigger.

As for Body Snatchers, I kept falling asleep while watching it, which in and of itself was pretty creepy.

3) Mark Bellhorn, now a Yankee with no stubble and shorter hair, hit a home run last night. Seeing him clean shaven jarred me significantly, not only because it was my first time seeing him do work for the enemy, but also because he looked shockingly like Kevin Youkilis. Seriously, once he starts balding, we won't be able to tell the two apart.

4) I'm not one to make fun of someone with a disability, unless they play for the Yankees, but my goodness: Stuart Scott has gone completely off the deep end. How does a guy that used to be a well-spoken UNC grad turn into a walking cliche who has some form of ebonic Tourette's Syndrome? I've come to a point where I hardly ever watch ESPN anymore, what with their insessant stream of screaming jackasses, insipid analysis, and idiotic anouncers, but sometimes I want to see the highlights, and this morning I was absolutely shocked how ridiculously scrambled Scott's brain had become. I enjoy catching up on sports, and Lord knows I've seen enough CNN coverage of the New Orleans thing that I can't watch the news networks anymore, but I feel like I shouldn't have to buy a slang dictionary to understand what the hell is being said about the Rays-Blue Jays game. That man must be stopped, or at least reprogrammed.

Happy Labor Day

Holy effervescent semen, Batman! A four day weekend!

A fine and happy Labor day weekend to all. Though I've only been at school for three days, I think the extended weekend was long deserved and well earned on my part. As such, I once again will not post over the holiday as I will be too busy wearing white for the last time.

You must find the Jade Monkey before the next full moon!

1) So I am now fully underway in my grad school, and the endevour has been fairly good so far. However, there have been a few hitches. For example, my micro teacher is very nice; however, her voice sounds like Margaret Cho's impersonation of her mother. Needless to say, it took roughly forty-five seconds before it felt like the Goddess Athena was stabbing her way out of the inside of my skull. However, she (the professor, not the goddess) was very nice and informative. So I have that going for me. Which is nice.

Also, it is fun to be able to occasionally look at some of my fellow grad students and scream at the top of my lungs, "NEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRDDDD!!!!"

2) I would feel better about sweeping the Devil Rays if the pitching could have, I don't know, kept their offense from scoring five runs a game. Well, Foulke is back, the Sox have another Manny (this time in pitching form!), and possibly one or two more young arms coming up.

3) You know, having seen a few more Wal Mart commercials than I would care to admit, I am always fascinated by their ability to find a pack of low-brow goobers who can barely formulate two-syllable words without blowing a blood vessal in their brains as their narrators. I mean, what demagraphic are they pandering to? Do they think that someone will watch that commercial, identify with the speech-impeded subjects, then suddenly say, "Hey ma! We gotta get to the Wallsy-Mart! They have great deals for our wedding stuff!"

4) I'm not trying to be insensitive about this, as I understand this is a huge story, but I was watching CNN this morning for more than an hour, and all they showed was stuff about the hurricane and the subsequent flooding. Sure, it's one of the biggest stories in years, and the ticker has all the other stuff, but for the love of crimminey, there is other news. I've given to the relief effort, and I've contributed to the Red Cross for years, and I think that the whole thing is tragic, but I would like to know what else is going on in the world. I mean, come on, there are only so many clips of people being saved and streets filled with water that you can see before you want to see something else in the world.

5) Seeing as how the Sox have won 19 of the last 20 games at Fenway, and I was at the one loss, I am wondering if my winning streak at games attended and their winning streak at home didn't cross each other's signals out and force them to lose. No worries, as I have seen my last game at Fenway until 2006.

6) I will be so happy when sportscenter finishes with that crappy 50 states in 50 days thing. Sure, it was a cool gimmick when George Thurgood did it, but if I ever have to hear that stupid song again, I'm going to freak out.

The Lunatic is on the Grass

1) Vanity liscence plate of the week: Virginia "PHK YOU2". Now, call me crazy, but I feel like if a cop ever pulled you over, this would not make it any easier for you to talk your way out of a ticket. The same goes for the woman that passed me on the highway the other day, going at least 90 in a 55, with "CONFDNT". Personally, if I ever invested in a vanity plate, I would likely spend that money to get something other than mildly amusing cleverness out of it. For example, I would probably do something like, "I LV COPS" or "NO TCKT". Think, people, think!

2) So the MFY have added marK bellhorn to their roster, successfully recruiting the man who drove in and scored the last run of the 2004 humilation known as the ALCS, to go along with Alan Embree (the man who pitched the last out) and the Manchurian Pitcher (aka Ramiro Mendoza). While I am sad to see Mark Bellhorn, the man who drove in as many runs in the world series as Manny and Ortiz, forced to leave the team, I am pleased to see the MFY throw out the 2005 marK Bellhorn, he of the 103 Ks and the .216 average.

3) Kevin Millar's season recapped, in reference to power numbers: 1 month hitting slump. Sox sign Olerud to a minor league contract, Millar hits home runs in successive games (including a walk-off against the A's after he pretty much blew the game with his defense). Another month-long hitting slump. Olerud is ready to come up to the majors, Millar hits two home runs in one game. Two months of a power drought. Petagine and Olerud start taking serious playing time from Millar. Millar hits two home runs in the game last night and one earlier in the week. The moral of the story, besides that Millar is a terrible fielder: The Sox should sign a new firstbaseman every day and Millar would be the most consistent power threat in the league.

4) Although, on a side note, if Millar is able to heat up for the stretch run and/or the playoffs, I'll take it. When the guy is on, he makes this lineup deadly. I have given the man a lot of shit lately, partially because I defended him for so long and he kept letting me down, and also partially because he is a poor fielding slow-poke who runs the bases like a drunken walrus. However, I really am rooting for the guy to get his bat on straight, as a happy Millar who is hitting is potentially the best thing for this team. If he could get hot, and Foulke (activated today) makes something of a close return, then the division is not in question.

5) So after my first day of grad school, where I spent a good portion of the day sweating in the unbearable heat, there was something I had forgotten about being on college campus: the freshman. Specifically, looking at all these 17 and 18 year-olds walking around wide-eyed, with the cute little girls holding hands with the cute little boys. Ah, yes, those quick-moving freshman boys, tired of not getting laid in high-school, they want to get a head start on not getting laid in college. The odd thing I always find about this stuff is that, pretty much without fail, the guy holding the girl's hand is always shorter, uglier, and goofier than her. All I can ever think about when I see these things on the sidewalk (and I am always shocked at the number of them that there are) is, "Boy I'd like to have sex with Scarlett Johansenn". No, wait, I mean I look at them and the only thought I have is, "I give it three days, or their first kegger at a frat." Now, I'm not saying that come Saturday night, all those girls who hopped into cutesy relationships with the first goofy guy that talked them are going to have some meathead senior splitting them like a Thanksgiving turkey, but then again I'm not not saying that, either.

Wait, what?

6) Okay, maybe that last one was a bit overly vulgar.