Friday, October 31, 2003


I'm rambling, here. I'm bored. Somebody needs to come entertain me. NBA Basketball sucks, dude.

Just wanted to post a link to the Straight Dope concerning the curvature and curvation of a curveball in flight.

And I wanted to relate a story from grade school. We had a teacher. I won't name her name. But she was quite the ignorant woman.

In fact, she was the first grownup that I told myself I was smarter than.

We had a really big dust up concerning the creation of Israel. I'm was a dork. I still am. And I'd read ahead in the history book.

And somehow the creation of Israel came up during class discussion. This teacher said that Israel didn't become a country until the early 60's. And I corrected her. (I was about 12 at the time, and she was in her 40's). And there was a long, protracted argument that contained her telling me that I need to study history as long as she had before correcting her, and it ended with my saying she should have actually read the history while studying it.

It was actually the worst (and almost the only) dustup between a teacher and me in my scholastic career.

The only others were: a little thing in gym where we played nothing but volleyball for the entire school year, and I started refusing to play because I wasn't any good at volleyball and wanted to play softball or football or anything else.

And the other was about curveballs with my biology teacher in high school. It was a long, protracted debate that carried over most of the spring semester between the teacher, who said the the balls didn't curve, and a couple of us in the class who did.

We won the debate with my friend Jeff's copy of Physics of Baseball.

And both of us got bumped up a letter grade.

We never held it against him. A.) He was a biology teacher, not a physics teacher; and B.) he was a football coach...what business did he have commenting on baseball?
The Friday Five

Halloween Edition's up, and I'm playing along:

1. What was your first Halloween costume?

I wouldn't call it a Halloween costume, so much, but when I was three, I went as The Incredible Hulk. By matter of coincidence, my father kept a gamma bomb in the workshed, right next to the lawnmower. I'd gone in Halloween afternoon to get the hatchet I used to chop things up with, and in the midst of saving Rick Jones, the bomb went off, and I got all irradiated and shit. Green skin, impressive strength. "Hulk Smash!" and all that jazz. BSTommy is the strongest one there is!

We decided that it was a natural to go as the Hulk. We saved the Sylvester the Cat costume until the next year.

2. What was your best costume and why?

When I was in the third grade, I went as Andre the Giant. It was great, because I fooled so many people, even Vince McMahon, and I ended up wrestling Hulk Hogan for the World Title at Wrestlemania III, because the real Andre died saving the world from the Devil.

3. Did you ever play a trick on someone who didn't give you a treat?

No. No tricks. We went TP rolling a couple of times, but never on Halloween.

But here's a funny story:

One time, My friends and I dressed as the California Raisins, me, Tregg and Lindsey. But everybody knows there were four California Raisins, and we needed a fourth for our quarter to go trick or treating, otherwise we would be laughed at and thought to be ridiculous.

Kenny was supposed to be our fourth (he was the one with the saxophone). But when it came time to meet up to go pillaging for candy, Kenny didn't show.

We were only three California Raisins. Three would look stupid.

And Nobody made us look stupid!

So we went to Kenny's house and knocked. Nobody answered. We yelled. Nobody answered. We threw rocks and footballs. Nobody answered.

All the lights were off and all the doors were locked. We knew that Kenny and his family were just pretending. That they'd put on airs of nobody being home, and now they were sitting in the dark, eating Halloween candy!

We knew we were being stood up.

Nobody, but nobody did that to us!

So we burned the house to the ground. And watched it burn, we in our California Raisin costumes.

Later we found out Kenny's grandfather had passed away, and that he hadn't actually stood us up for trick or treating. He'd just not had time to call us.

4. Do you have any Halloween traditions? (ie: Family pumpkin carving, special dinner before trick or treating, etc.)

Cowering. Usually under the covers. But definitely cowering. Because of all the weird things coming up to the house and asking for candy.

5. Share your favorite scary story...real or legend!

One time, I was sitting in my room at my apartment, reading. My roommate comes in and says: "What's up?"

"Nothin," I say.

Then, he walks up to the box fan I had going, and he farts into it.

the end.
Happy Halloween

In honor of this very cool day, here are a few things to scaredly-dare you:

Tennessee Ghosts

The Bell Witch

My Own Ghost Stories, here....and here.

Coast to Coast AM

A Geographical Breakdown of Bigfoot Sightings

Campbell County TN's "Skunk Ape"

Loren Coleman's Cryptozoology


and Carrot Top.

So, take a look at these. Frighten yourself until you crap in your pants. Then you'll be able to go home early from work!

Luckily, we can laugh at all these things. These things can't hurt us (except Bigfoot, or a really pissed off poultergeist).

Tomorrow, we can go back to keeping an eye on the really scary things in the world. Terrorism. The Economy. John Ashcroft. Carrot Top. Anthrax. And Sitting too Close to the TV.

Thursday, October 30, 2003


1.) It is not that I don't like Peanut Butter M & M's.

It is that I like them too much.

2.) I'm reading Jerry Lawler's (sort of) autobiography It's Good to Be King....Sometimes. I say sort of because it's ghostwritten.

To the King: Here's my advice: if you're going to have somebody write your autobiography for you, find someone who can make the thing flow, and not just put your stories and interview snippets together in a vague sort of chronological order. It gets terribly dry, at times.

On the whole, though, it's a good read, and probably the best insight into the Southern Pro Wrestling scene pre Vince McMahon's ruination of the territorial promotions that's been written.

And you non-wrestling fans might be interested on Jerry Lawler's whole take on the Andy Kauffman feud. He's the guy who supposedly hurt Andy's neck, which prompted the famous coffee hurling incident on Late Night with David Letterman.

It's funny, although not surprising, that Jerry wasn't sure whether Andy was trying to work Jerry as much as he was trying to work everybody else with the whole broken neck angle.

I'm not yet to the part where Vince McMahon tried his damnedest to shut Jerry's Memphis-based promotion down after he'd either bought out or run out of business nearly every other territorial promoter. Or how Jerry Lawler ended up working for McMahon after the fact, now for nearly 10 years.

3.) Lots of sirens out on the road, tonight. Lots of flashing lights.
Rocky Top Brigade: Volunteer Tailgate Party is Up

Peggy over at A Moveable Beast hosts this little meeting of the RTB Minds. Just some of the best of the Tennessee corner of the Blogosphere.

And the newest edition is up. Lots of good stuff going on. Peggy's done an excellent job. Go give it a look.
Things to Look at on the Internet

Roscoe Ellis is taking a close look at Alan Moore's Watchmen. It's worth a look.

Fletch, at A Smoky Mountain Journal does really nice work with his pictures of his home.

And Pete, at a Perfectly Cromulent Blog gives his views on the DVD release of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. An interesting read--his views on the film largely echo my own, except that I'm not against Temple of Doom, so much. It's still a decent enough movie to me...a 7 on the 10 point scale, in my mind. But Raiders of the Lost Ark is a 10, and as such, a 7 is a huge step down.

Wednesday, October 29, 2003

More Funny

Nothing funny to impart. Just wanted to say that the Filthy Hippy and I took in a free stand up performance by comedians Jim Gaffigan and Zach Galifianakis.

They performed at MTSU's Tucker Theatre, and were sponsored by FHM Magazine.

Prior to the show, the FHM folks handed out little glow in the dark thingamabobs. They were advertising something, though I never saw what, since I didn't get one. They looked like ravioli, and were a couple of inches wide. And when you shook them up, they glowed in the dark. I hadn't wondered how heavy they were, and how well they would fly too long before a couple flew out of the balcony, and the pandelerium broke loose. Little green glowing raviolis were flying this way and that. Ultimately, I think the FHM people decided to take them back up.

Jim Gaffigan came out and did his set. His "audience voice/conscience voice," where he criticizes the sadness and vulgarity of his own act, is very close to the voice Bill and I use to taunt each other (which Bill claims is his Tommy impression, but is actually how I've been taunted for years, owing to my sissified ways and high pitched voice; and also how I've taunted my sister for very nearly all her life.)

I liked Gaffigan's stuff, but I'd heard a lot of his set on Bob and Tom when he was on in the past couple of weeks. His set ended abruptly, though. And I wondered if he'd just said "screw it," because the audience had gone from really enjoying the set to indifferent in the space of a few minutes.

I should note that admission to the show was free. So a large portion of the audience was there simply because it was free and it was something to do, and not because of the specific subject matter. And a few people may have just not enjoyed it as much as they would have had they been interested enough to have paid.

Zach came out, after they'd wheeled out the piano. I like his comedy. A lot of one-liners. The best of the night? I thought it was: "The only time it's appropriate to yell out 'I have diarrhea!" is when you're playing Scrabble. Because it's worth a shitload of points...."

Zach got a significantly better response than Gaffigan, and I think it was in part because Zach would wander into the crowd every now and then. Just for kicks. I guess it kept everybody on their toes just a little bit.

A good show. Free. But good at even four times that price.
Today's Funny

From the e-mail:

A small zoo in Alabama had acquired a very rare species of gorilla. Within a few weeks, the female gorilla became very agitated and difficult to handle. Upon examination, the veterinarian determined the problem. The gorilla was in heat. To make matters worse, there were no male gorillas of the species available. While reflecting on their problem, the park administrators noticed Mike, a part time trainee zoo-keeper, responsible for cleaning the animals' cages.

Mike, like most rednecks, had little sense, but possessed ample ability to satisfy ANY species. So, the park administrators thought they might have a solution. Mike was approached with a proposition. Would he be willing to have sex with the gorilla for $500?

Mike showed some interest, but said he would have to think the matter over carefully. The following day, Mike announced that he would accept their offer, but only under three conditions.

"First," he said, "I don't want to have to kiss her."

"Second, you must never tell anyone about this." The park administration quickly agreed to these conditions, so they asked what was his third condition?

"Well," said Mike, "You gotta give me another week to come up with the $500."
Steve Bartman

People are dressing up for Halloween, and many of them are going as Steve Bartman.

Tuesday, October 28, 2003


I realize that I'm in for a long ride, if I'm missing baseball this soon after the season's ended.

It's not like I sit down and watch a lot of baseball.

But it's comforting to have it on the television, in the background.

Even if it's the Braves.
Today's Funny

I wish I could remember exactly Bob Zany's quote from his Zany Report on the Bob and Tom Show.

But he said about the Democratic Debate held in Detroit:

For once, the Detroit Tigers aren't the nine biggest losers in the city.
Joe Schmo

I'm not disappointed, exactly, with the finale to Joe Schmo. But there was very little special that went on, as far as an attempt swerve to the viewer. The whole situation was apparently on the up and up, and they went with theory 1a, where they gave Matt Kennedy Gould all the prizes and whatnot, in trade, I guess, for playing this big giant joke on him.

I thought the producers and some of the cast (Ralph Garman, especially) went out of their way to blow smoke up Matt's ass after revealing the gag to Matt. They told him everything was done for his sake. That all the great stuff that happened was to help him out, and that he actually wasn't the butt of a big giant joke.

I was glad to hear him say in the post-mortem that Matt realizes that if the show was truly done for his sake (as had been said, over and over right after the big giant joke was revealed), he'd have been picked first, and then the show would have been set up, and not vice-versa.

His castmates said a lot of nice things about and to him, though. And I believed them...big stupid TV viewer that I am. I do think a couple of them legitimately felt bad (a little) about what they'd put Matt through.

I thought it was a real class act for Earl (or the guy who played him) to say that he wished Matt saw the things in himself that they'd all seen over the course of the show. I thought that was probably the nicest and classiest thing anybody could have said to him.

In the end, I enjoyed the Joe Schmo Show. Probably more than I should have, but there haven't been many shows to get my curiousity up and actually make me wonder what's going to happen.

Ultimately, it's probably a good thing that I didn't bet my life savings on Matt's mind cracking and his killing everybody in the house.
Hello, Jerry.....

Via the Select Group of Toys:


Which Seinfeld Character Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

But if you thought hard enough, you probably came up with that on your own, didn't you? Yep.
Joe Schmo Tuesday

Tonight, we find out the whole deal with the Joe Schmo Show.

For the unwashed: Matt Kennedy Gould is the subject of a large scale practical joke. He believes he is on a reality TV show called "Lap of Luxury." Everybody else is an actor, pretending to be part of the game show.

And while it's probably not cool to write about theories on TV shows:

Just to review the theories:

1.) It's on the up and up. They are all actors, except for Matt Kennedy Gould, who is actually the subject of the whole joke. And they'll reveal that tonight.

1a.) They'll give him the $100,000 Lap of Luxury Prize as a consolation.

2.) Another theory is that the joke is actually on the cast playing the joke on Matt. That Matt is a ringer, and, and he and the producers have actually been playing the cast. This is possible, though I don't think so. I've read this theory in a couple of different places now.

3.) My personal theory is that Matt figured the joke out. Maybe not completely. But based on a couple of questions he's asked other characters/people in the house, I think he's got an inkling that everything isn't on the up and up.

We'll find out tonight, won't we?

Monday, October 27, 2003

Death of the Enumerator--A Short Play

Dramatis Personae

Edwinus, the Ternary Enumerator of the High Court of his Royal Majesty
Krimdall, the Stablekeep of the High Court
Dan, the Stable Boy, who is 6'7" and 37 years old.
Theodore Roosevelt, who is celebrating on this day his 145th birthday

The Setting

The Stables of His Royal Majesty (King Bob the Indomitable). On Tuesday. Two-ish.

Scene, the first

(Krimdall and Dan are eating lunch, at a round wooden table)

Edwinus (enters the stable area) o: Good Day, Stablekeep. I'm here to count the apes.

Krimdall (through a mouthful of food): We have no apes, here. We have only horses. And a cow. And a couple of chickens. And (points to Dan) the stableboy. But no apes.

Edwinus: None?

Krimdall: Just horses. And the other things.

Edwinus (opening his ledger): I don't believe you, what is your name?

Krimdall (rises from his table, where he is eating with Dan): My name is Krimdall. You know that Eddie.

Edwinus (making a note): Good for you. My name is Edwinus.

Krimdall (pointedly): Do you have other business have you here, crowfoot?

Edwinus: Crowfoot?

Dan: You 'eard 'im!

(to Edwinus): Crowfoot is an old English expression, meaning "Man with a Vulva."

Edwinus (rolling his eyes): Must everybody make jokes about that?

Krimdall: I tend to think so, yes.

Edwinus (explaining): There was magic involved. I was cursed.

Krimdall: Well, I kind of guessed, since I've been kicked by horses a few times, and never once did it cause me to grow female genitalia.

Edwinus: Um.....yes.

(There is an uncomfortable, protracted silence, like when grandma begins discussing her favorite porn during Thanksgiving dinner)

Dan (breaking the silence): Why is 'e 'ere? Is 'e talkin' about apes?

Krimdall (raising his hand to the boy): SO HELP ME JEEBUS!

Edwinus (stopping Krimdall): Stay your hand, Stableman! And use not the Man-Jeebus's name in vain.

Krimdall: You're right. My apologies.

Edwinus: Don't apologize to me. Apologize to Jeebus.

Krimdall (taking a penitent stance): I'm sorry Jeebus.

Theodore Roosevelt (entering, stage left): s'cool!

Dan (rising from his seat): 'Ey! You ain't Jeebus!

(The Illustrious T.R. takes his baseball glove off, and slaps Dan with it).

Edwinus, Krimdall (together): Good morrow, Mr. President.

T.R. (putting his glove in place): Ahh! Gracias, mi amigos. Donde esta el bano, por favor? (placing a hand against his stomach) No mas chalupas...ay!

(Krimdall points off stage)

T.R. (pulling his football helmet off): Much obliged.

Edwinus: Oh, Mr. President?

T.R. (pausing): Yes?

Edwinus: Happy birthday.

T.R.: Ass kisser.

(T.R. exits)

Krimdall: Now, about those apes.

Edwinus: So, you admit that they're here?

Krimdall: Well. We have one. But he's really rather ornery.

Edwinus: Ornery?

Dan: He got quite cross with me when we played Connect 4 this morning.

Edwinus (quietly incredulous): He plays Connect 4?

Krimdall: He cheats.

Dan: 'e does cheat. That's why he got cross with me when I called 'im on it. He damn near killed me.

Krimdall: Yep. Tore Dan's arm off and hit him with it.

(Dan displays a stump, proudly, and Edwinus is a little disgusted)

Edwinus: Perhaps you should visit the apothecary about that.

Dan: Can't. Not on the insurance for another month.

Edwinus: Pity.

Dan: Yeah. Got a daughter at home's had the rickets something terrible.

Krimdall: Would you like to see it?

Edwinus (disgusted): What? The Rickets?

Krimdall: No, Crowfoot. The Ape.

(Edwinus ponders this. For quite a long time, actually. In fact, Krimdall has left his lunch break, and is hard at work by the time Edwinus makes up his mind, some 39 minutes later).

Scene, the second: 39 minutes later

Edwinus: Marvelous. May I see him?

Krimdall (from the back of the stable): Beg pardon?

Edwinus: May I see the ape?

Krimdall (reminded): Oh. Certainly. Dan! Get the key!

(Dan walks over to Krimdall, takes the key off Krimdall's belt, and gives it to Krimdall)

Krimdall: What do you say?

Dan: Thank you. (under his breath): Jeebus.

(Edwinus violently slaps the boy. Krimdall kicks him once for good measure. Since Dan is so huge, it affects him little at all.)

Edwinus: Don't take the Man-Jeebus' name in vain.

Krimdall: Yeah!

(Krimdall directs Edwinus to a door, moves to unlock it)

Krimdall: Now, I have three rules about seeing the ape. One: No cussing. Two: No overt references to any Brit-Coms. He has a terrible aversion to anything coming off the BBC, and I don't want to have to be cleaning intestines, again. Stops the hell out of the sink.

(There is a pause)

And third: Don't mention anything about his wings.

Edwinus: His wings?

Krimdall: His wings. He's really sensitive.

Edwinus: Okay.

(Krimdall opens the door. Edwinus enters. After 22 minutes, he comes out)

Krimdall: What did you think?

Edwinus: He beat me at Connect 4.

Krimdall: Did he cheat?

Edwinus: No. He beat me fairly each of the four times. Really rather remarkable.

Krimdall (nodding): Yep. Did you play red or black?

Edwinus: Black. Like my soul.

Krimdall: I guessed as such. By the way. Dan's dead. I think it's the Plague. It really messed his arm up.

Edwinus: I thought the ape ripped his arm off.

Krimdall: Oh yeah. You're right.

(Suddenly, T.R. bursts onto the scene)

T.R. (screaming): Deus ex Machina! Deus ex Machina!

(T.R. takes a samurai sword from the sheath on his back. With a quick slice, he eviscerates Edwinus. Blood sprays in a gush that drenches Krimdall.)

T.R. (screaming still, at the audience): I Am the God in the Machine!

(Exeunt, through the audience, T.R. occasionally loosening the intestines of random audience members, all the while singing Happy Birthday To Me).

The End.

Moral: Sometimes, it just seems funny to write "vulva," and then other bad stuff happens, and you get a story that makes absolutely no sense, and you get to a point where you just want to go to bed.

Good night, everybody.
The Illustrious T.R.

Over at Leaning Toward the Dark Side, Tainted Bill reminds us that today was Teddy Roosevelt's birthday.

He was born in 1858, which would make him right around 145. Which would be a record (modern era) or something, were he still alive.

And the post name? Yeah. The Illustrious T.R. would mean something mainly to those denizens of McMinn County High School's history classes, right around the mid-90's or so. Remember: It's late in the six weeks. It's time for some of you to rally!


Happy birthday, Teddy!
Baseball on Network TV

Rudy Martzke's column in USA Today's sports section contains an interesting note about the ratings of baseball's post season and Fox's income vs. the cost to Fox for its initial contract outlay and the money it takes to produce and broadcast over teh course of the season.

....after a $225 million write-down on baseball last year, News Corp. Chairman Rupert Murdoch has said Fox's rights fee in the next deal starting in 2007 will have to drop considerably. Fox might have to split baseball with a second network.

It's an interesting thought, and one I'm not entirely unhappy about. I think I may be the only person who's not happy about the way Fox produces baseball over the course of the regular season and especially not in the post-season. I disagree strongly with Rudy Martzke grading announcers Joe Buck and Tim McCarver as high as he did, and especially with the Direction: How many times during the Series did Fox spend a half inning or even an inning talking to some celebrity? I remember Robin Williams in one game, and Michael Strahan in another.

So many times during the telecasts, I felt like baseball was the second highest priority for the broadcast, behind either which celebrities were sitting in the stands, or which show from the new season of Fox Television we should be excited about....and given Fox's propensity for putting castmembers from the shows in the stands, it was usually both of those two things.

But that aside, here's my question:

What are the obstacles to making a deal kind of like the NFL has: Splitting the AFC and NFC between CBS and Fox, respectively? Would it be counterproductive to try to split the TV deal along the lines of National League and American League?

Just thinking out loud.

I woke up and wondered if I was yet a ninja.

After much consideration, I have decided that I am not. Not yet, anyway.

Sunday, October 26, 2003

Note to Self

It is very important to pay attention when pulling a bottle off the spice shelf--to actually read the labels after you've pulled the bottle down, instead of assuming you've grabbed the right one because it looked right and started with "C."

Otherwise, cinnamon toast becomes chili powder toast, which is an entirely different, and not entirely pleasing, breakfast entree.

In my defense, I didn't have my glasses on.

And it doesn't help that every McCormick spice bottle, whether it's cinnamon, chili powder or cream of tartar, looks the same.

Chili Powdered toast? It's pretty nasty.
The Ghostie

I'm taking care of the dogs at my folks' house this weekend.

And the ghostie's back. At least I think.

At the very least, something has the attention of the animals.

Max, the pug, watched something going up and down the stairs for about 20 minutes last night. Seriously. His eyes were tracking something from the foot of the stairs, up to the landing, and all they way to the top. And then back down to the bottom. At roughly the same rate it would take somebody to climb, and then descend the stairs. He was looking about head height, too. I distracted him with a rawhide chew, and told him to stop staring at the spooks.

And a little while ago, the big black cat, who was sleeping in the bedroom, came running out of the back of the house, ears laid back. She would stop every few steps, stop, look back and up, and then start trotting again. She did this all the way to the door, which she wanted out. Which is odd in and of itself, because normally she's really skittish about doors. She only wanted out. The part that weirded me out was that she never looked at the same place twice. Again, like she was looking up at something that was following.

It's probably something else. But the eyes of the animals bother me.

Nothing's ever pestered me specifically. It never really has. I got really weirded out the night a few years ago I was here by myself and heard steps on the stairway. I felt silly threatening an apparently empty hallway with a softball bat. But when I heard the steps again a few minutes later, I took a little break from the house, and let it get it out of its system.

Saturday, October 25, 2003

SNL: Hardball

I'd never seen the skit on Saturday Night Live, featuring John McCain as John Ashcroft and Tracy Morgan as Harry Belafonte.

When Morgan's Belafonte opined: "I'm just going to say what everybody's afraid to say: Osama bin Laden is an Uncle Tom!" I actually spit Diet Pepsi on the floor.

Which was scary, because I haven't had Diet Pepsi for five hours now.

Other favorites: "Poodles are the black man of the dog world."

Also, McCain's Ashcroft stating that he wouldn't feel safe until ever American had a barcode on their neck, and a chip in their head, which would be controlled by the remote control he was keeping in his pocket.
I'd like to submit my resume

Can I be the new manager of the Yankees?

I wouldn't take it. Unless they paid me really well.

I hate the Yankees. Even more than the Designated Hitter rule. It does my heart good to see them beaten, and beaten soundly. It does my heart even better to see those wretched, arrogant sunsabitches in the stands at Yankee Stadium who've come to accept a yearly World Series Titles as a birthright slowly file out in stunned silence while the Fish dance and parade triumphantly on the field.

I'm happy to hear Zimmer tell the world he's leaving before George can kick him out.

Congratulations to the Marlins. To Pudge. To Juan Pierre, Luis Castillo and Mike Lowell, to Jeff Conine (again). To Josh Beckett, Brad Penny and even to Mark "Losing Pitcher" Redman. And Especially to Ugueth Urbina. Because somebody nicknamed Oogy deserves to win something.

You played good ball, boys. I'm sorry I didn't get more into this Series. I'm sure I'd have enjoyed it...if only you hadn't beaten the Cubs along the way.

I hope Loria keeps most of you around.

I hope the Miami fans actually show up to see this good young team next year. I wish to God I'd lived in Miami this past season.

No. That's not true. I'm much to big to enjoy the Miami Humidity.

And with that, we say goodbye to another baseball season.

Thanks, boys. I enjoyed this one. I enjoyed it more than a lot, despite the fact I didn't care one iota about the World Series.

And we begin the speculation as to what the next baseball season will bring.

(And also the beginning of the second most important season in popular culture: The Simpsons begin their season next week. Huzzah.)

I just sneezed like 11 times.

I think I'm allergic to something.

That, or I just enjoy sneezing.
Funny Words

Does a word ever strike you as interesting to say? Just out of the blue? A word that you've said roughly 8,000 times in your life, just one day strikes you as interesting to say? You decide you like the way it rolls off your tongue. Or you decide you like the way the word is contructed?

I got caught last night on "Jaguar," because a commercial for the really expensive Fords came on, and the announcer insisted on pronouncing the word "Jag-yoo-ar."

I don't suppose there's anything wrong with that (except that I disagree to my very core with that pronunciation).

I'd just always pronounced it "Jag-war" or even "Jag-Wire."

Not "Jag-yoo-ar."

But I did say "Jag-you-ar" something like 40 times as I walked around the house.

Tom Green did this all the time. He'd find a word interesting or funny, and he'd say it a lot. He stuck to common words. Sausage was one he went on about on his first MTV show, I think, and then again in his movie.

Letterman will do it, though it's usually a name he'll find. Sometimes, it's minor. He went on all night about a guy with the last name "Schmank" one night. Then, there was his initial fascination with names Sirajul and Mujibur.

And who can forget Dick Assman? Though it's not quite the same thing.

But I bring Dick Assman up, because his name fascinated Dave (and America, to be sure) the same way I got caught on something else this morning.

I was reading an old interview in an old magazine I found. It's an article about the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and somewhere in there is the line "It's hard to who's the bigger asshole." Anthony Kiedis and Flea are, apparently, torturing each other while the interview is going on, and the interviewer comments that she doesn't know which is the bigger pest.

And for whatever reason I laughed. I don't know if it's the way the word "asshole" echoed in my mind, or whether I found comparing a person to the poop orifice all at once funny. That would be odd, because I hadn't found it funny in years.

But it finally hit me why that line is funny.

When I first read it, my mind read the contraction "who's" as "who has," instead of "who is," which is how it was intended.

I read it: It's hard to tell who has the bigger asshole.

Which, to me, would make getting interviewed a whole different animal.

Now, I've interviewed quite a bit over the course of the summer. Granted, it's a different sort of interview. But whether I'm famous and getting interviewed by Rolling Stone, or if it's just for a job, if it involves comparing poopchutes?

Not interested. No, thank you.

Friday, October 24, 2003

My own Friday Five

Answering the questions from a couple of posts down.

1. Which would you rather have? Three extra fingers on each hand, or an extra nose right above the one you have? What if there were magical powers bestowed upon each trait?

What kind of retarded-assed question is that? Why don't you just ask whether I'd like 17 normal sized testicles or one the size of a volleyball? Do I want extra fingers....get the hell out of here. And superpowers? What's up with that?

I'll just say that I'd guess it would depend on the superpower, wouldn't it?

Do I get to choose the superpower, in exchange for the deformity?

If you give me the extra fingers, I'll take a healing factor, like Wolverine's.

2. What was something that you worried about, but told yourself to stop worrying, because it was silly, and then have had that thing come true? Was it silly?

Nope. Never happened. This is also a stupid question, and I won't do you the dignity of answering this one. There's a reason professionals do the Friday Five.

And can I just add that generally, the Friday Five has a theme? There is no theme here.

3. Who would be the absolute worst celebrity to have to share an apartment with?

It's a tossup between Mike Myers and Robin Williams. Just the constant "center of attention love me love me please" free association-fest would drive me crazy in a week.

4. What is the funniest moment on television that you've ever seen?

It was on a blooper show, and one of the bloopers was from an old Christmas special from the late 50's, early 60's. It's black and white. And "Tennessee" Ernie Ford is singing a spiritual type song around the Christmas tree with a bunch of children gathered round.

And the announcers explain that the child sitting next to Ernie was his real son.

The song starts out slow and sweet. Then, when it gets to the chorus, it get's all jazzy. Think "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," only about the Birth of Christ.

Well, any time the song hits the jazzy chorus, Ernie's son just starts bopping his head and snapping his fingers. Except it's in the spastic motions accomplished only by 7-year-old in an enclosed space. And it's great in part because you can see how funny Ernie thinks this all is, but he's not letting himself laugh about it.

But the best part is his son when the song is sweet and slow. You can just see the anticipation on the kid's face, how he's waiting....he's just waiting for that jazzy part so he can dance along with it.


5. Do you know personally anybody named Vance?

Yep. Went to grade school and high school with a Vance. I wonder what he's up to nowadays.
Straight White Guy

The Straight White Guy has changed moved to

Please make a note of it.

And check his site out if you haven't already.
The Big Stupid Tommy Friday Five

Since the proprietor of the Friday Five site's too busy to be making questions for the week, I've stepped in to deliver to you, the BSTommy Friday Five.

1. Which would you rather have? Three extra fingers on each hand, or an extra nose right above the one you have? What if there were magical powers bestowed upon each trait?

2. What was something that you worried about, but told yourself to stop worrying, because it was silly, and then have had that thing come true? Was it silly?

3. Who would be the absolute worst celebrity to have to share an apartment with?

4. What is the funniest moment on television that you've ever seen?

5. Do you know personally anybody named Vance?

With thanks to Busy Mom for the saying

Always remember: When all the chips are down, the buffalo is empty.

Gracias, and good morning.

Thursday, October 23, 2003

Big Stupid Tommy

I'll be really glad when employment starts next week, if for no other reason than it'll help me keep my days straight.

I've been thinking it was Friday all frigging morning.

But alas. It is only Thursday.

And all day, at that.

Please e-mail me, so we can discuss things privately. I'm tired of uglying up the page with this sophomoric argument.

I'm bothered by the "not such a good guy" comment, on the basis of telling a joke and then calling something like I saw it.

I shouldn't be, but I am.

So, please e-mail me.

Since this happened over on another blog (admittedly, a much bigger blog in the community, but having absolutely none of my charm (or is it smarm?)), and apparently somebody somewhere is in the gift-giving mood.....

Allow me to post this: My Wish List.

Heh Heh.

Wednesday, October 22, 2003

We're talking progress here, people!

Glenn has a request for the civil and household engineers among you, and I heartily agree. I wear shorts a bit (even though it's getting cooler). And there's little worse than urinal ricochet hitting bare legs.
What a Day

What we learned today:

1. A baseball bat can be fully concealed in the back cushions of the couch in my living room. So. If I'm asleep on the couch, and a bear should barge into my apartment, I'll have a bat to fend the bugger off. There is also a flashlight hidden in the depths of the couch, so I can blind him. But the TV remote control is hopelessly lost in the depths of the big brown couch, I'm afraid.

2. The BBC series "The Office" kicks ass. It came recommended, and I rented a disc of it (had another free rental I hadn't used). I don't normally dig on British television, but this is extremely smart and clever comedy. I haven't laughed this hard at a television show since Andy Richter Controls the Universe.

And there's a pair of incidents involving Gareth's stapler in the first episode which made me nearly lose my mind laughing.

If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.

3.) The dish soap I bought today smells very pretty. And it made me smell very pretty, after I'd been doing dishes for a few minutes.

4.) And an ugliness reared its head on the blog. I'm sorry to see it, because it came from an ignorant, kneejerk response to something I said as a joke. You should never take anything I say on this blog too seriously, and you should always keep in mind that I'm doing this to occupy and entertain me--not you.

Unless I'm talking about the Chicago Cubs. I won't joke around about them.

Or if I'm carrying a really big axe. Or, as Dave Attel says, if I'm running full bore, naked, down the road, and screaming at you to run, too.

Tuesday, October 21, 2003

Who Wants to Be a Millionaire

I think that I've played quiz bowl against Steven, the guy who's in the hot seat on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, and I know his his Phone-a-Friend, Kevin Olmstead, who won the most money on the history of the show, has read questions at Trash-Masters.

Fresh off the heels of having read Jon Krakauer's Under the Banner of Heaven, comes this news via word of mouth from Bill and Warren Ellis comes news of Fundamentalist Latter Day Saints holing up (literally) to wait out a crackdown they are sure is coming from the State of Utah.

I don't know if I can think of a more perfect metaphor for the fundamentalist digging in of the heels and refusing to evolve than retreating into your cave and saying that the world is going to have to come in and get you.
Personal Business

Sorry to air out personal business here.

But I'd like to address The Princess, who was offended by the Neighbors post, a couple of posts down, but wasn't considerate or brave enough to post an e-mail address. I'd discuss this with you personally, if you'd like, but I can't do that unless you post your e-mail address.

I subject myself to criticism by putting a comment section on my page. The least you can do is return the favor by opening yourself up at the very least to discuss the issue privately, by posting an e-mail address. Posting like that shows a lack of either class or education, and I generally consider the person that does something like that to be an idiot, or a coward.

And in this case, I don't think I'm far off the mark.

The Neighbors post that has you up in arms? It's a joke.

Humor is a subjective thing, I know. My humor's not that sophisticated, though. I'll just say that I think it's funny when somebody acts like the very thing they're complaining's called "irony." Maybe mine was a failed attempt at irony, but in re-reading the post, I don't think so. Find a dictionary (big book with multitudes of words) and look up the word irony.

I also want to say that you took something I said a little too seriously. Which was the big mistake. You should stop and ask yourself any time you read something on this page: Is this possibly Big Stupid Tommy's (perhaps failed) attempt at a joke?

My last point is that nobody's forcing you to read this. I paraphrase Say Uncle: I do this to entertain myself, not you.

And luckily, I was quite amused. It was probably the best thing I've seen so far today, besides Gunny's comment about the weird dream he had about being a girl.

Gunny, that's comic gold, my friend.

4 Stars!
Of Mice and Men

Gunny sent me this a while back during Banned Book Week, and I meant to post it, but forgot.

Just call it a nine-panel adaptation of Of Mice and Men.
The neighbors

Well, it's either a new neighbor or somebody with a houseguest, but somebody nearby has a baby living in their apartment.

And around 5:45 in the AM, it tends to get really pissed off about something.

And its reponse to being really pissed off is to scream at the top of its lungs about how angry it is.

Which is understandable. If I'm awake at 5:45, I'm going to be pretty pissed off about the whole thing, too. I don't think I'm going to holler at the top of my lungs about it. I'd probably write about it. On a blog.

But I wonder how much my neighbors would like it if I were startled into consciousness at 5:45 in the morning, and started roaring at the top of my lungs in terror that gives way to anger. I'd probably be kicked out of my apartment. Or have the cops called on me.

"Sir, what seems to be the problem?"

Well, it was all warm and dark, and I was flying, and then all of a sudden I'm not flying anymore, and I'm just laying on my bed, and it scared me, pretty bad. And I kind of screamed for a few minutes, and then I realized that somebody or something pulled me out of my dreams, so then I kind of screamed for a few minutes more to scare let everybody else know that I was pissed off at not getting to sleep. And if I can't sleep? Ain't nobody gonna be sleeping. You get me?

See my point?

I think babies are very selfish.

And I should say that since it's happened at the same time the last couple of mornings, I'm more inclined to think that someone or something is waking the baby up, rather than the baby spontaneously waking up, though I admit the latter choice is also feasible.

So here I am. Awake.

Good morning.

I had a scrambled egg sandwich for breakfast. And it was pretty good, though not as much as I wanted it to be. But somehow, at 6:30, nothing is quite as good as it should be.

Monday, October 20, 2003

Joe Schmo Show

Tomorrow night's the finale of the Joe Schmo show.

I still stand by my questions as to the overall authenticity of the show. We live in a litigious society. And if Matt Kennedy Gould is, in fact, a patsy, it seems that he would have quite a legal leg to stand on, when it came to mis-representation and whatnot.

That said, I like the theory proposed somewhere online, I think at Online Onslaught, that Matt isn't the patsy at all. Rather, Matt, the producers and probably Ralph Garman, are actually the ones manipulating the rest of the cast. (Just a note, when I went to find mention of Joe Schmo on Online Onslaught, I couldn't find mention, so I may have read that theory elsewhere).

That would be a nice twist.

But I'm running on the belief that this is an attempt at a joke on Matt. Reviews I've read of the show, specifically from newspapers from around Pittsburgh (Matt's hometown), would suggest that everything is on the up and up, as far as the show's intentions toward Matt.

My theory is this: I think Matt may have figured everything out. I'm not sure exactly when. I think it may have been around the time Matt was asking the Molly character about her hometown, and Molly slipped up in her response (saying something along the lines of being from Wisconsin, when she's supposedly from Texas, or vice-versa). I just remember the look on Matt's face in the rest of the conversation, as he was studying everybody's responses.

And I think he's been testing the waters, ever so much. He'll ask little questions of people. And I like the final dinner with the Hutch and Bryan, where Matt brings up his meeting with the Network Executive, and Matt says "It was like he was an actor, or something."

And he's a little bit evasive when questions get asked about what he's thinking. He'll just give an answer along the lines of "I'm happy to be here."

Actually, I'm wavering.

I'm kind of leaning toward the whole shebang being legit, and Matt's just a really good guy.

But it's about 55% of my thinking that leans that way. And I wonder, if that's the case, if Matt gets the $100,000 promised to the winner of the fictional "Lap of Luxury" show.

45% of me, though, thinks Matt's figured it out.
Home Improvement

Just a quick question. Is Home Improvement on some channel at any given hour of the day now? Has it replaced Gilligan's Island and the Brady Bunch?

Between the hours of five and seven, it's on some channel on my cable every half hour in that two hour span. Plus, I've found it on in the middle of the night on some channel or the other.

While it's interesting to see the variations in height for the kid who played Mark (he went from tiny to GIANT in the course of the show), I just don't need that much grunting on my TV.
122-year-old man dies

In addendum to a previous post, lamenting the uncommon regularity of the deaths of the World's Oldest People: A Cambodian man believed by relatives to be 122 years old has passed away.

And I ask again: What is Killing the World's Oldest People!?!?!??!

I ask, because I hadn't even heard about this 122 year old man before last week, because he was crediting his smoking as keeping him alive all these years. And what happens as soon as he gets some publicity, he up and dies.

Seems to me that we need to start making a suspect list. The suspect is probably elderly; probably has already accomplished much, but wants even more notoriety; most likely possesses supernatural powers.

I'd blame Strom Thurmond, but he's dead.

Since we're on an off day from the World Series, Peter Gammons should probably be brought in for questioning.

As should Joan Rivers. On principles.

But I don't think we know enough about the potential for trans-medium crime. So I don't think we can rule Strom Thurmond out, just yet.

On Second Thought: The guy who died at 122 said his relatives were the ones who believed him to be 122.

I think that's the secret: I don't have to live to 120. I just have to convince all the people I know of it.
Don't want to say much

Don't want to say much, because it's not a set thing, but I think I've ended the unemployment drought.
Drink More Milk

Read this story, about a woman broke her legs jumping on the floor to get her neighbor to turn the music down.

Once: the neighbors in the dorm liked to turn their music up pretty loud. Which was fine, except it consisted of nothing but bass, and they'd play it around 5:30 in the morning, when they got up for football practice.

And also at other inopportune times.

The diplomatic response: Something with a lot of noise coming out of the treble clef. Meat Loaf's Bat Out of Hell II worked, as did the tape of the bagpipe corps, played at full volume with speakers pointed at their walls.

No surprised screams of pain there.

Though my ears will never be the same.

Sunday, October 19, 2003

Horrible Realization

Just realized that my zipper was down, and it's had to have been down for quite some time. Which isn't so bad. I stayed in cleaning up, reading and watching football.

But there was that 90 minute or so trip into various places in town.

And that trip falls easily within the zipper down window.

And the bad part? I'm usually pretty worried about doing something like that, and I'm pretty good about checking every now and then.

Damn. You'd think I'd have felt a draft, or something.
Random Thoughts

Just a few things that have been bouncing around in my mind.

The World Series

I realized that I don't really care all that much about this year's World Series....


....when I realized that I'd read pretty much the third quarter of Under the Banner of Heaven, in which Jon Krakauer chronicles the violent history of the Mormon Faith, specifically fundamentalist Mormon Faith, and even more specifically, and single violent act perpetrated by a couple of fundamentalists.

An interesting read.

Though it made me wonder about the dynamics of the dating life in the polygamous society some fundamentalists live in. Just the line where a man with four wives already resolved to ask one of Krakauer's interviewees out on a date. Especially since she had been heretofore unacquainted with anyone who lived in a polygamous relationship.

He: Hey! Want to go get dinner and a movie? With Me? And my four other wives?

She: Well, normally I'm repulsed by a person who commits an act so alien to our society, but sure! Why not?

And I say this only because I'm doing so "absolutely swimmingly" when it comes to my own social life.

Fart Joke

Anger Management should win the Oscar in Fart Direction. I won't ruin the scene, except to say in a house inhabited by "barking spiders," Buddy's question to Dave was well received.

The Quest

I'm 6 books in on the Quest. I don't know that I'll make it, especially when gainful, non-temporary, full-time employment hits me. But I'll try my damnedest.

To read 100 books in 366 days (2004 is a leap year, so I have one day's advantage), it works out to a book every 3 and 2/3 days....or one every 88 hours.

The problem?

I still haven't learned to read.

Falling Back in the Central Time Zone

It's getting darker earlier. Funny how that happens in the fall. Around this time, every year. What's really crappy about living on the eastern cusp of the Central Time Zone, is that when we switch back to Standard Time, it gets dark around 4:30 in the afternoon.

It's not a big difference, I realize. The biggest shock was my first semester of school out here, when I had a geology lab from 3 to 5, and it would be the afternoon when you went into class, and the dead of night when you got out.

Pickle Chips: God's Own Food

Straight White Guy was preaching the virtues of the deep fried pickle over on his blog. I gotta heartily agree. I believe I called them "God's Own Food" on his comment section. I said that, because they're hella-good.

That Crazy NFL

The Titans handed Carolina their first loss of the season today. That makes me happy. However, almost every other team I picked to win in my Pick'em League has lost. With the exception of Seattle. Seriously. I had a horrible week.

Last, but not least, a blog

And this is a blog I'm reading. Xyon's Rambles. Fellow RTB guy. Likes Neil Gaiman and other fine SF standards (big props to Smallville, which, unfortunately, I still haven't seen this season). Give his blog a look.
Don't Want Beans

Don't Want Beans!
DON'T Want Beans!
Don't Want BEANS!

(Inspired by Actual Events)

Thank you. Back to regular programming.

Saturday, October 18, 2003

Rasslin' News

If anybody reading's in the Maryville, TN, area, and they're a wrestling fan, you might consider taking a trip out to the Maryville National Guard Armory.

The show's being run under the Premier Wrestling Alliance banner. My buddy Barry's wrestling. I wish I could make it. I still haven't seen him in the ring.

Bell Time's 8 O'Clock. Word to the wise: It looks like it may be pretty bloody.
Funky Dreams

For the second night in a row I had some pretty funky dreams.

The only thing I remember about the first was driving down a four lane highway, with people jumping from car hood to car hood while all the cars were moving. One of the people jumping from car to car was my friend Keith, who has a rather distinctive laugh in real life, and every time he'd land on a car hood, he'd start giggling with that laugh of his.

I think it's because I watched Matrix Reloaded yesterday evening. I liked it better than the first Matrix...but you have to remember that I'm more or less apathetic when it comes to the first Matrix movie. I like the kung fu, and Hugo Weaving as Agent Smith, but none of the other actors and nothing of the story.

And Matrix: Reloaded has more fighting and it still has Hugo Weaving.

But it also has the kickass freeway chase scene. And I think that's why I dreamed my friend Keith was jumping from carhood to carhood (wearing that denim jacket he always wore in high school), because one of the agents in Reloaded makes a memorable jump from car to car.

I like the freeway chase.

Keep in mind that I rate the first Matrix about a 3 on a scale of 1 to 10. And Reloaded is a 4, based almost entirely on the freeway chase.

The other dream was where I was working at the grocery store I worked as a teenager, except it was now called "Haunted Brown's." There were ghosts, except the ghosts were all people in choir robes. And there were giant spiders. And by giant, I mean big enough to stride easily from aisle to aisle by stepping over the shelves.

But mostly the dream was about a conversation I was having with my friend Sam, whom I haven't seen in five years or more, and with whom I worked at said grocery store. I thought about him yesterday when I heard somebody describe somebody else as "cool as a cucumber," which is what the store manager said Sam was, under any circumstances.

Don't know what the hell I've been eating.
Lord of the Rings

From the department of duh:

You know that marathon theatrical showing of the special editions of Fellowship of the Ring and the Two Towers along with the premiere of Return of the King that they'll be showing in various theatres around the country come December?

Well, it's turned into a scalping event.

Friday, October 17, 2003

The Funniest thing I've seen today?

The fact that the cripple fight between Jimmy and Timmy on South Park takes its style, moves and dialog from the ridiculously long fight between Roddy Piper and Keith David in John Carpenter's They Live? That absolutely cracks me up.

I'd never realized it. VH1 just told me.

Emily at Give War a Chance has had her words stolen. Go take a look.

Twice now the interview has been postponed.

Between baseball, jobs, hurting my heel on the coffee table and all these stupid motherhumpers that live in my town, it's probably a good thing I don't have one of those big guns from Robocop. Because there wouldn't be anything in Murfreesboro without a big giant hole blown through it.

On the upside, I actually have two interviews next week.

So it's not all bad.

But I banged my heel on the coffee table last night when the Red Sox lost the lead, and I've got a pretty good bruise there now. Hurts when I walk.
Good Morning, Internet/The Friday Five

Good Morning. The Red Sox lost last night. I'm rooting for the Marlins in the Series. Which isn't a horrible problem, but you understand that the Marlins are pretty high on my shit list, but mostly for beating the Cubs. They're a fun young team, and I want to see them beat the hell out of the Yankees.

Which is the sad part. Six out of the last eight years, I've ended the season not necessarily rooting for someone, but rather rooting against the Yankees. It's a subtle difference that I'm not smart enough to put into words to explain.

Last night, I had a dream last night where I was chasing my enemies and shooting at them with the rifle/cannon the bad guys used against Robocop in the movie of the same name.

(As opposed to when the bad guys try to blow up Robocop in "Terms of Endearment")

And I also had a different dream where a guy in a transfer truck was driving around in the field next to my parents' house, and running over my pets.

The second dream was not such a good dream.

I really, really love the "Godzilla" bit they do on the Bob and Tom show.

And Lastly: The Friday Five:

1. Name five things in your refrigerator.

Not a lot, right now. Eggs. Ketchup. Syrup. A jug of water. Cheddar Cheese.

(Per the directions, I've named them John, Paul, George, Ringo and Pete, respectively)

2. Name five things in your freezer.

Ice trays. French Fries. My roommate's broccoli. My roommate's Boca Burgers. My coffee beans.

(Will, Bubba, Emily, Elizabeth and Rob)

3. Name five things under your kitchen sink.

Dish Soap, All Purpose Spray Cleaner, Windex, A snarling, slobbering thing with very sharp claws, a gallon jug of laundry detergent.

(Chloe, Danielle, Chelsea, Abdullah, the Fonz)

4. Name five things around your computer.

Headphones. Tick action figure. Box of floppy Discs. A couple of CDRs. Mensa Day-to-Day calendar, which is about four days behind.

(Dante, Randall, Kaitlin, Rick Derris and Silent Bob)

5. Name five things in your medicine cabinet.

Claritin tablets, Aspirin, Athlete's Foot Spray, Alka-Seltzer and Band-Aids

(Trygve, Dag, Kurt, U, Boutros)
Let's Go Marlins

I'm not sure I trust a higher power who lets the Cubs and the Red Sox lose seventh games on consecutive nights.

The baseball season went from so good to so shitty in the space of 25 hours.
Rest in Peace, Stu

I don't know if any of you guys and gals are wrestling fans.

I wanted to pass this along, though.

Stu Hart, patriarch of the Hart clan (whose ranks included Bret and the late Owen), has passed away, at the age of 88.

Stu came from a time when Pro-Wrestling was little flash and little glamour, and more often than not, the performers could actually wrestle, to some degree. Not the punch and kick stuff, but actually utitlizing strength and leverage to bend and stretch you into submission. Yeah, it was still show and the finishes were pre-determined. But a few of these guys could really, really hurt you were you to actually wrestle with them.

Fellows of Stu's kind were (and still are) called hookers (because they'd hook an arm or a leg and pull it painfully), and these men would occasionally be called upon use their expertise in the ring to put a cocky pretender in his place.

There's a great documentary on Bret Hart called Wrestling with Shadows, and it includes a tour into the legendary "Dungeon" of Stu Hart. It is there that Stu trained countless men (and women) in the ways of the squared circle. And in Wrestling with Shadows, Stu (who at this point must be somewhere around 82, 83) gets down on the mat and bends the arm and knee of a much younger man until the young man cries out in submission (all the time, calling Stu "sir").

His sons, Bret and Owen, were big in the WWF. And they were throwbacks to Stu's day, when performers were actually rewarded on the basis of their ring ability.

Bret was a five-time World Champion, who had his career effectively ended by the sloppy ring-work of another (Bill Goldberg, who wouldn't last a second in a legitimate catch-as-catch-can wrestling match with a stretch-artist like Bret, or even Stu).

Owen (who was one of my favorites), infamously, died in the ring. You may remember. At one of the WWF's pay per views, he was to be lowered to the ring by a harness. The harness broke, and Owen fell to his death.

I'm rambling. You can read the Star article.

I was just sorry to hear the news. Stu was very nearly the last of a dying breed. Don't know that there are many more like him around.

Thursday, October 16, 2003


From somebody who will remain nameless (because he's an asshole):


If you get the urge to see Radio, don't. I just watched a screening.

It's really, really bad. I remember Pauline Kael saying Rain Man was Dustin Hoffman humping the same note on a piano for two hours.

Well, Radio is Cuba Gooding Jr panting lustily through through the same note on a harmonica without using his hands for however long this movie was. It felt like days.

What a shit of a movie.

Just wanted to warn you.

Besides, if you want to watch a retard cavorting for a couple of hours you could just stare into the bathroom mirror for that long and save yourself a few bucks.

Everybody's a comedian.

This from a man who once managed to slam his own head in a car door.

You gotta come to Tennessee, some time, don't you Paul?

Oops. Used his name.

Gracias for the heads up, however.
Urge to Kill.....Rising

Did you ever have one of those days were little things just start getting at you?

Other drivers. My neighbors. A barking dog. The Cubs losing the playoffs. The fact that there's no bread in the house.

Well, I'm having one of those days.

And on these days, I would do well to remember not to play the ultra frustrating Wrestling Game on Playstation 2.

Yeah. I hates me some "Hot Stuff" Eddie Gilbert.

How does he block everything!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?
What do You Call Your Cola?

Found on Busy Mom's blog:

Soda vs. Pop.

It's a geographical breakdown of what people call a generic carbonated beverage.

Coming from the south, it is and always will be a "coke." Whether I'm drinking Coca Cola, Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, or Sam's Choice Diet Dr. Thunder.

I always liked when the old people would come to the grocery store I worked at and called them "dopes."

Of course, I was terribly confused when they called the paper sacks "pokes."

And when the question was asked: Would you put my dope in a poke? I started to vomit in confusion.
My final thoughts on the Cubs, for a little while

This is the text of the e-mail I sent to Dad last night, a couple of hours after the game ended last night. I was sitting up, and decided to send this off:

I don't even know what to say. I felt like losing
last night [in game 6] would take the wind out of their
sails. Which is why I said what I did when I called.

The Marlins are good. And if you give them the
opportunity, they'll beat you. We gave them the

But in the end, I wasn't expecting to get this far.
So I'm happy. I enjoyed it.

But I'm not going to say "wait until next year."
Because right now, that seems a million years away.
"Next year" for the Cubs has a way of being 6 and 7
years in between. And it feels hollow in my ears.

I hope it's different, and next year really is next

Love you and Mom,


And "wait till next year" still sounds hollow. I'll mellow a bit, I'm sure. And I'll start looking toward next year before long. But next year has a habit of being just another in a series of disappointments.

And make no mistake. This is probably the biggest disappointment in my fandom....and also in a year which has had a few disappointments of its own.

It was late, and I would have called, like I did at the end of Game 6. But I e-mailed.

What I said to my Dad after Game 6: "I don't think they'll win tomorrow night. I don't think they have it in them."

Part of that is my own kneejerk reaction.

Part of it is remembering the 1986 World Series, which Steve Lyons kept bringing up. When the ball rolled between Buckner's didn't just lose that game for the Sox. It lost game 7. Because the Sox came out dead for game 7.

I was partly wrong.

The Cubs didn't come out dead for Game 7.

They came out fighting.

But they also came out tired. 174 games will do that do you.

But more importantly, the Marlins came out inspired.

And a team as good as the Marlins doesn't need to be that inspired to beat you.

As an aside, I now have perhaps more respect for the abilities and gamesmanship of one Ivan "Pudge" Rodriguez than I do any other opposing baseball player. I paraphrase the Uncouth Sloth: that's how a superstar comes to play in a playoff series.

And one more Marlins thought, before the World Series: Especially with Javy and Sheffield leaving the Braves....the Marlins are now the team to beat out of the East, in my mind.

And maybe they'll draw more than 5,000 to a game, and then their fans will actually deserve the championship they have a possibility to win. You had a great team from May on, folks. You didn't even care until the playoffs.

(With apologies to Joe, who was limited in his fandom by the fact he lives in Knoxville)

We packed our stadium every damn day.


Finally, I say, once again, Thank You to the Cubs. Even if you're my team...I'd picked you to finish a distant third behind the Cardinals and Astros in my own picks at the beginning of the season. And I spent the entire season waiting for the other foot to drop.

September was one of the greatest months of Cubs baseball I can remember. It was a pleasure actually wanting to open up the sports page (or, as it were) to see the standings on the 15th of September, when usually by that point in the season, I was checking where the Cubs were out of habit, rather than actual need to know.

And it was nice to see the Cubs actually looking like they were having fun, instead of just playing out the schedule.

It was an utter pleasure getting to see in person Kerry and the Cubs get to down the Atlanta Braves in Game 1 of the NLDS.

And it was absolutely wonderful....and awesome sight, to see Wrigleyville full of people in October, more people outside the stadium than in....just wanting to soak up the atmosphere, to be a part of something great.

Baseball does not have enough of that anymore.

So. I'm going to take a day or two on the baseball thing.

Good luck to the Sox. Boston's the only other city that can have a community reaction like the Cubbies, I think.

Wednesday, October 15, 2003


Thanks, Cubbies. I wasn't even expecting this ride.
Steve Lyons and Thom Brennaman need to shut up

Yeah. Just muted the TV after Steve Lyons decided to take credit on the behalf of Fox TV on making that seat in left field famous, and then insulting baseball fans by saying that anybody would have gone for the ball.

That's bullshit, and if Steve Lyons thinks so little of baseball fans, then I don't want to hear from him anymore. Lyons strikes me as a feller who thinks he's a little smarter than he actually is.

I couldn't find the remote fast enough. I managed to hear Brennaman call the Cubs' fan reaction an indictment upon our society.

Dude....however much I think it's wrong to go after the guy like the media has been...your job is to announce a baseball game, not comment on such broad, sweeping topics such as the impact sports have on our society. Besides, that's a topic best left to WHEN THE GAME ISN'T PLAYING.

And Thom, if you are so quick to condemn YOUR CHOSEN PROFESSION's impact upon society, then I don't want you in the booth, my friend. Defend the game. Don't comment on how people are taking things so out of whack.

The trouble is that I'm not picking up WGN 720 out of Chicago like I was for most of the season. It fades in and out, and is competing with a Spanish-language station in West Tennessee, I believe.

As I write, Kerry Wood just tied it up with a 2 run homer.

He is my hero.
Ya Gotta Believe

Here we go.

We're gonna throw this bullshit curse talk to the wayside.

We're going to forget the guy in left field.

We aren't EVER going to talk about goats again.

We're gonna get on Kerry Wood's big Texas back while he mows him down some Fish, and let Kenny, Grudz, Sammy, Moises, Ramy, Randall and Eric, Gonzo, Bako or Miller bludgeon our way into history.

Or I'm going to burn Murfreesboro, Tennessee to the ground.
Seventh Inning Stretch

I have a LOT of issues of how Fox has been presenting these playoff series.

But I have to give them real props for showing Bernie Mac singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the stretch at Wrigley last night. I really wish they hadn't come back to Yankee Stadium just now in the middle of "God Bless America." They do such a good job with that, they should just stay with it the whole way through.

Hell, Fox controls the flow of the games, anyway. Just add an extra minute between the top and bottom halves of the seventh to get your commercial money in.
What's On Now

What's On your bookshelf Right Now? (pick a shelf; any shelf)

By way of Missives Anonymous.

Picking the top shelf on the bookcase right across from me:

Books, stacked instead of sitting on their edges.
Elmore Leonard's Tishomingo Blues
Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose
John Steinbeck's The Pearl
Peter Golenbock's Fenway
Bernard Cornwell's Excalibur
Karen Armstrong' biography of Muhammed, the exact title of which is obscured from me.

A Three Stooges Plaque, where they're all dressed in caps and gowns.

The Ralph Wiggum figure from The Simpsons

The Transformers: Ultra Magnus (in truck form) and Blaster (in boombox mode).

My Command & Conquer: Tiberian Sun disc.
The CD of Danny Elfman's score to Batman
George Carlin's "What Am I Doing in New Jersey"
Johnny Cash's "American III"
R.E.M.'s "Eponymous"
Mojo Nixon's "Whereabouts: Unknown"

And an empty drinking glass.

I'm more or less ambivalent about the whole Cubs thing right now. What it is: I'm not letting myself think about it too much.

I feel badly for the guy. He made a split second decision. My words from last night still stand. He just forgot himself, and followed instinct--something too many people are willing, and even striving, to do. I think the last argument I had with my sister was over why it's not okay to sit back and laugh at a Rob Schneider movie.

The guy did that, or he's not as acquainted with the game as he should have been, and then, starry-eyed at actually attending a baseball game at Wrigley, he went for the ball.

I don't know. And I don't think we'll ever know.

I don't agree with the publishing of his name or the harassment he's receiving.

If you're going to hunt somebody down, find out where Thom Brennaman and Steve Lyons are staying

We have game 7 tonight. And we live in enlightened times when we don't believe in silly shit like curses, right? (This from the man with three different posts on his own blog about ghost stories).

I keep going back to game 6 of the 1986 World Series. When the Sox lost game 6, and then just didn't show up at all for Game 7.

If ever there were a time for Dusty Baker to be the great and wise motivator and leader that he's supposed to be, then this is the day.

And it'll be a little bit of a victory either way you look at it....because Kerry Wood's hot wife will be in the stands. If Fox stays true to form, she'll be on camera almost as much as anybody in the lineup tonight.

Which is not such a bad thing, necessarily.

With game 7, I'm going to miss tonight's NWA-TNA show. And in actuality, I've not been to more than a couple of shows since July. Part of it is the 3 week hiatus they took, and part of it's financial. But mostly, I don't like the direction the shows have taken pretty much since the anniversery show back in June. I'm patient, but the shows have become a bit cookie-cutter. The charismatic performers who can actually put on good matches are being left off the show in favor of a lot of the older punch and kick guys, like the former Road Dogg, Konnan and even (dare I say it) Shane Douglas.

Having Dusty Rhodes (who may have been one of my favorites back in the day, but has been over the hill for 15 years) wrestle A.J. Styles, one of the most ring-savvy young'uns of the group, for the NWA World Title is a waste of time. I'm glad I didn't go to last week's show.

And I'm not terribly enthusiastic about the news that Hulk Hogan will be wrestling a couple of shows for them later in the fall. He's the biggest over-the-hill punch and kick guy of them all. And I don't think that's the direction the company needs to go, even if they're going to be pulling in a few buys for those shows.

It might work if they showcase the performers like Christopher Daniels, Low-Ki, Chris Sabin and Kid Kash, and let people see these guys perform. But when they've had those opportunities in the past few months, they haven't capitalized, letting Konnan and D-Lo Brown take up entirely too much show time.

But I digress.

And then there was the very loud argument that ensued at the gas station where I'd stopped to buy a coke where a guy cut in front of me and the guy who was in front of me. I had very little to do with the argument. I watched as the little guy dropped the f-bomb on the feller, and the feller called the little guy a runt.

When the first fellow left, I did stay in his way, and reminded him there's no need to act like a jackass.

And now I'm eating a bag of popcorn. And it's tasty.

There's a job interview tomorrow.

I like pie.

The end.
Threat to the Bush Administration?

Threat rating: extremely low. You may think you can
subvert the government, but if you should try
you will be smited mightily because God likes
us best.

What threat to the Bush administration are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

That's not exactly true. I write letters of prayer to the Holy Trinity (Superman, Jeebus and "the American Dream" Dusty Rhodes).
The Last Word, before I go to bed

I know Say Uncle's loving all the baseball talk.

My last word tonight is of a conversation I had over e-mail with my friend Joe.

My friend Joe has opined, and I concur, that the fans sitting on the edge of the field tonight at Wrigley, the ones who can afford the seats most, are the ones who probably deserve them the least.

There are exceptions, I'm sure. But we've based the opinion on the couple of times this series that people sitting in the front rows at Wrigley have turned outs into foul balls because they jumped up to try to catch the ball--because they seem enamoured with just their situation of being at a baseball game, period. And a good baseball fan, one who knows what's going on, should just know not to mess with a ball that close to the field of play.

Cardinal fans bug me. But I remember making a mental note during one of the Cubs/Cardinals games at Busch this past season, of fans who actually jumped out of both Edgar Renteria's and Tino Martinez' ways when they chased foul balls over near the stands.

Those are smart baseball fans.

Granted, that's regular season. So I don't know if the same fans would be sitting in those seats come playoff time at Busch.

And who knows? Maybe the guy with the headphones is a season ticket holder.

Either way, I think he's probably learned a lesson he'll never forget.

Again. I don't want to blame the guy. I actually feel bad for him. I mean, for his situation to have gotten so bad so quickly that he needed a security escort out of the stadium? That's just craziness.

Either way, he's gotta hope the Cubs win tomorrow. Because tonight, he let his instinct get in the way, and he made a very stupid decision.

That's why you can't just stop thinking. And that goes for any time. There are too many people in our society who just "want to stop thinking for a while." Whether it's at work, or at home, or even at a sporting event. You have to be aware of what's going on around you.

And that's not just because I'm pissed at the Cubs losing. It's because so many people in this society walk around with this self-centered bubble of ignorance surrounding them, and they don't realize what their actions mean half the time, and how they affect other people.

I'm rambling now. I'm about to fall asleep at my computer. I'm going to bed.

Maybe I'll read this in the morning, and feel silly. Who knows?

Tuesday, October 14, 2003

Kerry Wood

I refuse, however, to end this night on a negative note.

I quote, and fully concur with, the Yarbage Cub Review:

Nothing to say but: Kerry Wood.

Game 7. Tomorrow Night. 7 Central.

I don't even know what to say. Five outs away.

It's times like these that I want to lay blame.

I'm trying to be a better person than that.

If there is a lesson to be learned here, it is not alright to shut your brain down just because you're at a baseball game. Whether you're managing, playing or sitting on the left field foul line.

Also, would somebody please tell Thom Brennaman to just shut the fuck up? To have the gall to bring up the curse.
Rocky Top Brigade Recruits

Hello and welcome to the newest RTB members.

Drawing Dead


Beyond the Whispers

and my old pal the Evil Hippy

Just none of you sit in my chair. Because it's mine. I brought it.
Today's Funny: An Oldie but a Goodie

A pirate walks into a bar with the steering wheel of a ship sticking out of the zipper of his pants.

The bartender says, "Hey, there's a steering wheel sticking out of your zipper."

The pirate replies, "Aye, and it's driving me nuts."

The ALCS Update

Brought to you this week, by Say Uncle:

The Red Sox beat the Yankees 3-2.

There were no fights, brawls or fisticuffs.

That is all.

Monday, October 13, 2003

An Interesting Story out of Louisiana

Via Alphapatriot:

The Louisiana gubernatorial race is making waves. Bobby Jindal, an Indian-American, has passed the first round of Louisiana's election process.

Which is interesting for the South, where the racial issue (which is like the turd on the coffee table that everybody sees but is afraid to talk about) is Black and White:

From the article:

Jindal began the campaign with strong backing from Foster, but it still seemed his ethnicity might rule him out. Louisiana, which is barely 1 percent Asian, has little experience with Indian-Americans. And the South, historically fixated on blacks and whites, has had trouble knowing what to make of people who are neither.

And the sad part is the number of people who have probably wondered aloud "Is he black or is he white?"

As Jindal moves on to a Nov. 15 runoff against Lieutenant Governor Kathleen Blanco, he has a chance to make history. He would be the first Indian-American governor in the United States, and one of the few elected officials from an ethnic group that now numbers nearly 2 million. And he would be Louisiana's first nonwhite governor since P.B.S. Pinchback served for 35 days during Reconstruction. But if Jindal's success is a sign of racial progress, and it is, it also has elements that suggest how far America still has to go.

I wish it weren't an issue. But it is.

Even in these enlightened times, a buddy's roommate won't eat at Fat Mo's because they guy who runs it is originally from the Middle East.

So the race thing was kind of on my mind.
2/3 Good, 1/3 Evil

From the Straight White Guy:

This site is certified 66% GOOD by the Gematriculator

Doing the math....I'm 66% good, 34% evil, which is right around a two to one ratio.

Based on these results, I may be a Babylonian demigod. I'm not sure.

Where's my Enkidu?
West Wing

I'm addicted to re-runs of West Wing on Bravo, by the way.

It's so rare to find television with fully realized characters (whether they wear halos or not).
Zim and Pedro

Want to get yourself a new butthole torn?

Wander into a baseball chatroom and opine that Don Zimmer had no business out on the field and Pedro did the first thing that came to mind in a split second decision, and did what A LOT of people would have done in the same situation.

You'll crawl out of the room after you add on that Zimmer's not the teddy bear everybody wants him to be.

And Yeah, Pedro's an asshole, but to yell that it's an affront against God that Pedro throws at Garcia when Pedro's going up against the biggest headhunter in baseball in the form of Roger Clemens? That's plain idiotic.
Kill Bill

Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill (vol I) is one of the most entertaining movies I've seen in quite a while. It's also one of the prettiest. And it reaffirms in my mind that Quentin understands the film medium as well as (if not better than) anybody else.

Although, if orgies of violence aren't your thing, it's probably not the movie for you.

And those who complain about the lack of character development and's a vengeance story. A highly stylized vengeance story, but as a vengeance story, it doesn't need a bunch of characterization.

Also: the trailer for Lord of the Rings: Return of the King played before the movie.

The part in the trailer where Gollum gives Sam that nasty grin when Frodo protects him? That's fantastic.

Yeah. I want to see this movie the same way I did when I was 6 years old and Return of the Jedi was coming out. That's happened only a couple of times since.
This Weekend: the Final Thoughts

1.) Well. The Marlins beat the Cubs. That was the Josh Beckett that I was afraid was going to show up. He was just nasty. And I hated it, but I was impressed the way he went after Sammy, especially after Sammy yelled at the young pitcher for throwing up near his head. I shouldn't have been surprised by his balls. But I was.

2.) Fat Mo's is open in Murfreesboro. There is no good reason to go anywhere else in Murfreesboro for a hamburger. (Unless you're already at Buster's or Toot's: these two establishments rounding out the top three here in the Boro)

They have 27 oz. heart attack on a bun. The Fat Mo's Super Deluxe. That's more than a pound and a half of meat, bun, bacon, BBQ sauce, jalapenos and cheese. That's not what I got. I just wanted to point it out to you.

I think they could add one more patty to that, and if you're able to finish it, it should be free. But that's just me.

3.) The Titans beat the Texans. Steve McNair had hisself a helluva game. On top of that, the Colts lost.

4.) Game Show Network is showing the Regis Philben hosted Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? Which is cool, because it features the fastest finger competition, to determine who goes to the hot seat--it's something I really miss when they show the syndicated edition. They're showing the supermodel edition right now.

Yeah. Heidi Klum is pretty cool.

I can remember calling the toll free number to try and get on the show, back in the day.

I'd kick ass. Unless I got tripped up really early on by some stupid pop music questions. Or if I got a question about architecture. Or opera. Or art. Or cooking.

My roommate and I baked in the hot summer sun a couple of summers back outside the Vanderbilt Loews Plaza, along with the scary smart Charlie Steinhice, waiting to take the contestant search test.

I'm still waiting for their call. Passed the test. Interviewed.

I just don't have a television personality.

5.) I have more of a garbage collector personality.

6.) The big toe on my right foot hurts. Call an ambulance....or a toe truck.

7.) Yeah. That's all I got.

8.) Goodnight, internet. Goodnight, Gunny. Goodnight, Ramen Noodles. Goodnight refridgerator.

9.) I just corrected a typo, which read "fasted finger competition." That's not quite the same thing, and I think it would make for much slower television.

Sunday, October 12, 2003

Sunday's Funny

High Comedy? Methinks thy name is Krang Goes Babysitting.

I loves me some Fark.
A Mike and Mark Sighting?

Just saw the NFL Network commercial, where all the fans of the teams are standing in one long line, waiting for the line to begin moving.

Are the two guys in the Green Bay Packer jerseys and cheeseheads Mark Borchardt and Mike Schank from American Movie?

I think they are. Mark tells Mike "Put your cheesehead on, man."

The Cubs have a chance to win the National League Championship Series today. A good outing from Clement last night. Hope Zambrano has a better game tonight than he had in game 1.

Cubs with a possibility to go to the World Series?

It's not quite sunk in yet.

Maybe it's better that way.
The Read List

First three entries are up for the Read List.

Carl Sagan's The Demon Haunted World
Dennis Lehane's Mystic River
Ferrol Sams' The Widow's Mite

Again, my goal is to read 100 books from October 1, 2003 to September 30, 2004.

Doing the math, That's right an average of right around 2 books a week for a year.

It's been suggested that it would be easy if I read like 80 and 100 paged kids books.

Which reminds me of something the Evil Hippy
once spoke of. The public library of the small town we're both from had a little contest a couple of summers where you would read books, and for every book you read, you got to fill your name out on a cut out of a whale, or one of the Wild Things from Maurice Sendak's book, and the librarian would tape your name up on the wall.

I had a few books up on the wall. But I remember going one morning that summer, and seeing a boy and girl (siblings, I'd assume) grab a handful of the little kids books out of the shelves, read them, and then go to the desk and get a dozen cutouts to write their names on. They ended up winning the contest. And they'd read the equivalent of Harold and His Purple Crayon 200 times.

So, I won't do that.

I don't think I'll even hit my goal...I'm a book behind pace already.

But 100's a nice round number.

And the goal is not to read 100 books, necessarily, as it is to just read more than I have been. And perhaps embiggen my mind a little.