Starbucks Revisited

Wayyy back when I was an upstart undergraduate anatomy student I wrote a small piece about my thoughts as a Starbucks greenhorn.  I didn't even like coffee at that time, I just wanted a place where I wouldn't be tempted by my Xbox when I ought to be learning origin/insertion/action/innervation of various muscles.   What I said then holds true today-- Starbucks is immensely quirky place to see a plethora of types of people.

 As I consider this through the lens of 24.5 year old me, I was left with no choice to utilize everyone's favorite blogging tactic: obscure categories. Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good Starbucks study session, but these are the kinds of people that make you say--well maybe studying at home ain't so bad? (Even though it's worse...because 3 hours of mariokart later I still haven't cracked open the binder) So ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I give you my expert groupings of people you see when you are at Starbucks:

1)The starving artist honing his/her craft in public

What is the one thing all unsuccessful artists/singer/songwriter/author crave? Acknowledgement of their plight of course!  Nothing is better then fiddling around with variations of "Wonderwall" on your older brother's acoustic guitar with a beyond melted iced coffee sitting next to you that someone absent-mindedly threw a nickel into.  Wrangling between the various synonyms of justice that you could use for the title of your novel can only truly be done in public in a stereotypical "I'm brooding" position


Nobody cares about your protagonist.  He seems like a more boring Holden Caulfield anyways.


2)The business guy yapping loudly into his phone

"Yeah I'll...what's that--uh huh...Yeah the Dalton account...No Dalton with a D, like the Bengals quarterback...nevermind one sec--Yeah I'll have a venti dark roast black---No Tim Dalton...from corporate....Uh huh....no....correct....October 23rd....uh huh...Cindy...Cindy..No...Look just Cindy give me Tim's number....Yeah...Dalton!  Tim Dalton's number!  Like the Bengals...nevermind."  Attempts to ignore this individual will prove futile.



 Cindy still doesn't give a sh-- about football man!

3)The Study Group Where Nobody Wants To Be There.

They all just thought meeting in a non-threatening non-committal place would be ideal...False!  Watch as the soul gets sucked from their faces as a group member "just wants to go over the plan one last time".  Smile and laugh knowingly as you see one member of the group blatantly not pay attention to the ideas of others and put his/her feet onto a nearby coffee table a la breakfast club. Their collective project is no doubt doomed for failure.

For the last time, our font selection will have no bearing on our grade!

4)The Frequent Flier That is Angry at The Barista

Is this a frap-o-lato Mr. Roboto like I asked? Is this the vanilla caramel skim mochalatte de-lite?  Why isn't this at 294 degrees Kelvin as I requested??  This is among the worst of those you will encounter at Starbucks.  They often have a "Costanza wallet" if a male (very large for non-Seinfeld junkies) that exceeds the girth of Crete from east to west.  In it you will find crumpled bills of various nations from their travels, and punch cards from the ~20 restaurants they consider themselves to be regulars at.  This person will vehemently disparage anyone who disagrees with their various political stances with mini-rants that they typically plagiarize from "The Daily Show."  Avoid if possible.



Oh you think the correct ruling was made in the Citizens United vs. Federal Election Commission decision?  Did your Super PAC tell you to say that? (Chortle).

5)The Free Wireless Leech

Usually a disheveled 30-something who is either "sticking it to the man" or doesn't want to "get addicted like you sheep."  Will be at Starbucks or another place with wi-fi roughly 6 days a week.  He will often be seen reading online newspapers he already subscribes to in print to "fact check".  Despite his reluctance to use the internet frequently he is often a part of a well respected World of Warcraft guild.  Grooming a minimum.  Approach with caution.


Picture of woman he convinced his mother he was in a long term online relationship with.

6) The That Guy is Creepy in an Undefinable Way

Always slightly pudgy. Never comically obese.  This person will seem to be tending to something of importance, but are only partially committed to the task like a mediocre spy with a newspaper.  If you accidentally snap out of a blank stare you will typically make inadvertent eye contact with this person.  This is a mistake.  There is a callous calm in those dead eyes that you can't really quantify....trance-like....Snap out of it man! They are often wearing something ironic like a Hawaiian shirt in winter time. May be found reading "The Prince" or "The Art of War." Often a cue that it is time to pack up and go.

Has cats named Sylvia, Morpheus and Seven.

7) The Two Girls Talking Voraciously About Inane Things.

Hands are moving about more quickly than deaf interpretation of UN speeches.  Topics range from boys that they think are cute, the likelihood of any of the aforementioned cute boys being attracted to them in some capacity (typically in descending order, starting with the male deemed most date-worthy), and/or things that the boys they find attractive are likely thinking about (Which in actuality these individuals are in no way actually reflecting upon).

A vast majority of these ludicrous statements are announced with a matter-of-fact tone that indicates to disagree with such statements would be absurd.  The second female companion will always nod, and when cued roll their eyes with regards to the preposterous behavior of the person in the story they just heard, perpetuating their vicious cycle of groupthink.  Hope you brought headphones...



Do not understand what groupthink is.  Decide it is likely a 90s boy band.  Wonder if groupthink will ever tour with 98 degrees.

Alex Trebek is the Greatest Man that Ever Lived

The following is a list of sorts I have devised to make the argument (which makes itself really) that Alex Trebek is the greatest man that ever lived.  Who has given more to society?  Who is more revered?  Who displays more class, poise, and refined elegance?  I can't think of anyone that even compares.

1) Being the longest tenured host of Jeopardy! is unto itself a major notch in his belt.  It is a beautifully crafted game show with the entire show's premise being to mess with you.  I mean giving you the answer then demanding the question?  Baller.  Classic Trebek.  And don't think for a SECOND he doesn't relish each and every opportunity to admonish a  novice for their blunder:  In this clip for instance, Trebek laughs maniacally at a contestant's (in his eyes) particularly egregious response:

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIiirQrZRrQ

And don't think for a second Trebek won't call you a pussy in more or less words if you don't wager at least half of your stash for a daily double.  He will carefully total up the exact amount you would need to surpass a competitor/double an opponent's score and basically question the integrity of your character as a human if you don't wager said amount.  Watch an episode and observe his mastery in this technique--
 (Another aside)--And heaven help you if you goof a Shakespeare question.  Trebek will make you wish you had never agreed to be on national television if you suggest King Lear when it was OBVIOUSLY Hamlet.  Get a clue

Sample this subtle/tasty Trebek  dig:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8cMb1YTw-8

Only Trebek can so poignantly call you out in front of millions.

2) The dude speaks French....beautifully.  Imagine a flower that only blooms once every 1000 years, and when it does it radiates such color and beauty that communicating this beauty is unimaginable.  That is the feeling you get every time he snaps of a word of French.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yxeDtb0uuPA

The video is labeled "over pronouncing" but what they meant was "swagging out of control".  Seriously, you know Trebek has MAD street cred.  Just saying.

3) Trebek is Canadian-- and damn proud of it.  He will drop a province on you so fast your head will spin.  Think you know Toronto?  You wouldn't know Toronto if was about to punch you in the face, which Trebek just might do if you cross him...leading me to my next point.

4) Alex Trebek at the age of 71 chased robber out of his hotel room in the middle of the night (granted it was  a 56 year old woman named Lucinda) doing so with such fervor that he tore his Achilles, but unlike Kobe Bryant he didn't beg for a phantom foul from the refs, he instead helped bring a criminal to justice.  --White Mamba--

5)This alluring, angelic, sublime, perfectly trimmed and meticulously maintained mustache:



'Nuff Said.

Banks Goes on Vacation

Banks was an ordinary man, nothing more, nothing less. It was 2 PM on a balmy Saturday and Banks was uncharacteristically chipper.  He was scurrying down vast bustling walkways as he sought out his gate. This was all thanks to the fact that Banks had been the 7th caller on 91.5's "Ham and the Buzz" morning radio broadcast and correctly identified the Prince classic "Little Red Corvette."  Banks was quite proud of the fact that it was this song in particular he had identified, for reasons mostly unknown to him. Lost in a mixture of sweat and satisfaction Banks didn't realize how profusely he had been clogging the moving walkway, to the dismay of an uncharacteristically small Armani suit enveloping a rather coarse business man.  Banks halfheartedly apologized, smirking to himself as he fought back various Danny Devito puns.  The man looked like Devito if he had lost 30 pounds, and redistributed that adipose tissue into a toupee that might get up and walk away.  It's Always Sunny in Rugadelphia....

There was a time when being seated right next to a baby would have been the undoing of Banks.  But with his recent discovery of Xanax meet Bloody Mary, he could deal with the confused and innocent cries yearning for food, sleep, and attention.  What Banks got instead was far more damning.  She was that annoying girl we have all got stuck talking to at a party, except she was now in her mid 60s with a hint of senility and a gallon of unwarranted confidence.

 She did not introduce herself, nor make any attempt at pleasantries as she Mike-Alstott-barreled her way to her designated window seat.  80% of her body weight rested upon Banks' thigh during this maneuver. She then began complaining loudly to no one in particular how "disappointed" she was, although the rest of the sentence was muffled--and did she ever drone on.  She did a 10 minute bit on how misleading "instant" coffee is and the merits of having a "go-to" department store--and  just who decided we even need stamps (free mail for all?).  Oh it was dreadful.  Banks initial tactic was the patient nod, although eventually even the fabricated browsing of Skymall wasn't enough of a hint.

Eventually this verbose vermin tuckered herself out after a particularly long winded soliloquy about the "marigold as rabbit repellent scam" that she fell pray to this year.  Banks had naturally faded in and out of attention but gathered that she had managed to pin this malicious injustice on the "media" and her local congressman.  Impressive, thought Banks.  Banks was able to scamper away as she somehow remained asleep throughout the duration of the landing. Perhaps she had also discovered the tasty Xanax Bloody Mary miracle combo.

He managed to hop aboard his hotel shuttle in what he only assumed was world record time, a flawlessly executed plane dismount-- perfect 10 from the judges no doubt.  He had packed lightly but the rather plump  driver with the name tag "Turbo" insisted on carrying his bag down the 2 steps to the curb anyway.  Turbo then lingered as though this deed merited a tip.  Banks grabbed his bag and stepped clear of the tipping radius.  Once he took the hint Turbo sheepishly retreated to his post behind the wheel.

As Banks sauntered towards the front desk he debated the merits of certain acts being deemed tip-worthy in today's society and some not.  Was Turbo's service truly tip worthy?  All he had really done is inconvenienced him with a moral dilemma of sorts.  The fry cook at McDonalds gets no tips regardless of how perfect his Big Mac is assembled, and yet a barista is deemed tip worthy for assembling the proper ingredients for a mocha latte?  A befuddled Banks got his room key and once he got to his room tossed aside his luggage and plopped on to his bed exhausted.  He let thoughts of purple rain, fry cooks and marigolds swirl around his head as he faded off into sleep.  It was going to be an interesting vacation.

Some Days I Just Question Mankind

I know the world has many real problems. Budgets aren't getting balanced, global markets are fragile, Jerry Sandusky isn't locked away forever yet. But today, I learned of a true travesty that really embodies what a crazy messed up, almost poetically and tragically retarded the world is.

Allow me to explain.

One of my favorite series of books is the Jack Reacher series by Lee Child. He is an incredibly compelling hero in a variety of ways. He is a physically imposing ex Military Policeman with a history of violence and disobeying authority. He is a vagabond, intentionally nomadic because it is all that he knows. He is tragic in his flaws, but holds himself to a high moral code. So high is this moral code in fact, that he puts himself in physical danger to uphold what is right. . He can also often be found dining at lonely diners seeking cheeseburgers and coffee at all hours of the day. He is 6 foot 5, 250 pounds, immensely knowledgable, sharp, pragmatic and complex.

They are going to make a film based on one of my favorites, "One Shot." My father recently found this out, and told me Tom Cruise was going to be in the new One Shot movie. I told him, "Cool, who is going to play Reacher?" The horrific answer: Tom Cruise.

Let's get the obvious out of the way first: Tom Cruise is generously listed at 5'7" and 160 pounds. Fail. How can a character where so much of who he is, what he can do, and what he does is because he is so physically imposing be played by a man who can only be described as "fun sized??"

Fact number 2: Tom Cruise is insane. Jack Reacher is a no-nonsense straight shooter with a good sense of self and the world. Tom Cruise follows a "religion" in Scientology that was created by a science fiction writer that talks of lord Xenu and ancient alien souls being trapped and subsequently released from volcanoes. Somewhere between a cult and ponzi scheme, Cruise vehemently defends his beliefs when he is not jumping on Oprah's couch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znsXA2aTXCE Please.

Reacher would celebrate like a man, damnit...

Fact number 3. Tom Cruise is a shitty actor. His acting prowess ranges from (see below)

a) narcissistic sports agent

b)narcissistic friend of the handicapable

c)narcissistic white samurai

d) homosexual pilot...not that there's anything wrong with that.

Whomever was/is responsible for Tom Cruise as Jack Reacher should never have a job again. I can't think of a bigger slap in the face to Reacher fans or mankind. Because when I think of Tom Cruise, the last thing I think of is badass:

May Xenu have mercy on our souls...

Sarv v Tor: A Clash of Two Gambling Problem Titans

Sarv and I thought it would be fun to email over/under picks from every team to each other and, if gambling were legal, place a friendly wager on each discrenpancy. We decided on getting the over/unders off of Sportsbook. All things told we agreed on 20, and disagreed on 10. I thought it'd be fun to have a guest blogger and let him and I say what we picked and why we picked it for a little mid season review. And next year, maybe for my sake we'll leave the NFC North out of it! Enjoy.




P.S. I think we will go in alphabetical order, because it's my blog and I'm lazy to come up with a creative way of doing it.


P.P.S. When it says "Tor and Sarv" It means we agreed, but I wrote it so don't hold Sarvey accountable for the filth that follows.

ARIZONA CARDINALS 7 Wins: Over-110/Under-110


Current Record: 2-6

(Quick note for gambling novices, -110 is the classic "juice" meaning if one were to actually place a bet at a casino you would be betting 110 dollars to win 100. Conversely if you see something like +150, it means for every 100 dollars you wager you win 150.)

Tor + Sarv: Under. I don't trust Kevin Kolb, and their secondary is shit. Having said that, they do play in the NFC West so I wasn't uber confident in this pick. Regardless, I took the under, Larry Fitz can't throw the rock to himself...yet.

ATLANTA FALCONS 10 Wins Over -110/Under-110

Current Record: 5-3

Tor and Sarv- Over. This team is one of the biggest enigmas. They haven't impressed me in any game yet. I believed in the Matt Ryan to Roddy White/Julio Jones/Grandpa Tony Gonzalez combo. I believed in Michael Turner. Time will tell.

BALTIMORE RAVENS 10.5 Wins Over-110/Under-110
Current Record: 5-2

Tor- Under. Michael Oher doesn't actually have Sandra Bullock around to inspire him, and he doesn't even protect the blind side anymore. Oh, and Ray Lewis is running for AARP treasurer.

Sarv- Over. With the division they play in winning 6 out of their last 8 will be tough but if Flacco can move the ball down the field, limit his turnovers, and Terrell Suggs continues to “sizzle” they have a shot.
BUFFALO BILLS 5.5 Wins Over-120/Under Even
Current Record 5-3

Tor- Under. Um... mulligan??

Sarv- Over: Is it just me or do the Bills remind anyone else of the team from the movie The Replacements? A bunch of nobodies a year ago (started 0-8 last year) lead by a down-to-earth white QB that start playing well together. Gene Hackman even looks a little bit like Chan Gailey. Great movie. Anyway..

CAROLINA PANTHERS 4.5 Wins Over-125/Under +105
Current Record: 2-6

Tor- Over. Because I thought Cam Newton would be frisky. (Vince Young 8.0??) Because their defense could be adequate. Because I was hoping for a comeback year from Steve Smith (looking that way). I'm diggin' this pick. I don't care what that sneaky sonofagun Sarvey says dammit!

Sarv: Yeah Cam Newton’s been playing well but they’re only 2-6 on the season and 5 out of their last 8 are on the road. Oh yeah, and 7 out of their last 8 are against teams with winning records. Lock it up.

CHICAGO BEARS 8.5 Wins Over+130/Under-150
Current Record: 4-3

Tor and Sarv- Under. This was one of the most fashionable unders out there. The Bears overachieved by ever sabermetric angle last year, and Jay Cutler... I mean, is there anything more awesome then having some coin on Jay Cutler failing? Cmon, seriously. It's...it's just the tops.

CINCINNATI BENGALS: 5.5 Wins Over-120/Under Even
Current Record: 6-2

Tor: Over. I must admit, I told Sarvey this is the one I was least confident in of the ones we disagreed on. But who cares? Andy Dalton aka the Red Rocket is a stud! And they no longer have the record for most arrests in the last 10 years, Chris Cook helped the Vikings take that title! Skollll Vikings at least we are winners at something.

Sarvey: Under-The Bengals are 6-2!? Really!? Did not expect a team lead by two rookies to start out this well, especially with a shortened off-season. And didn’t Carson Palmer have essentially the same team last year and they went 4-12? The Raiders must’ve missed that red flag... oh and this one.

CLEVELAND BROWNS 6.5 wins Over+130/Under -150

Current Record: 3-5

Tor and Sarv- Over: I know Colt McCoy sounds like a cowboy from a childrens show contrived by an LSD ridden paranoid schizophrenic, but I believed in him. That is all.

DALLAS COWBOYS 9 Wins Over-110/Under-110

Current Record: 4-4

Tor and Sarv- Over. I like Tony Romo. No homo. Also, I still think they are supremely talented, and all that jazz. Plus Wade Phillips is gone. He looked more confused last season that 70% of America at the end of LOST, thus I thought Jason Garrett would be worth 2 extra wins alone


DENVER BRONCOS 5.5 Wins Over-120/Under Even
Current Record: 3-5

Tor and Sarv: Over. Elvis Dumervil back is/was huge. Kyle Orton is underrated. I'm still not sold they can't get to 6 wins. But now having to root for Tebow makes me a sad Panda...

http://www.google.com/imgres?q=south+park+sad+panda&um=1&hl=en&sa=N&qscrl=1&nord=1&rlz=1T4ADFA_enUS439US439&biw=1093&bih=446&tbm=isch&tbnid=JHgahXcEzRqF4M:&imgrefurl=http://kreidball.tumblr.com/post/3935200854&docid=JZNiZbYY324vgM&imgurl=http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_li8nkur92T1qc3jfro1_400.jpg&w=300&h=265&ei=cUG3TvjzBeTa0QGfkP2vBA&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=87&vpy=96&dur=1138&hovh=211&hovw=239&tx=131&ty=125&sig=103537226557824943095&page=1&tbnh=120&tbnw=136&start=0&ndsp=12&ved=1t:429,r:6,s:0

DETROIT LIONS 8 Wins Over +130/Under -150

Current Record: 6-2

Tor: Under. I didn't think Stafford or Best could stay healthy. Their secondary is still... a little suspect! But hey, kudos to the Lions. Side note, which was a bigger fuck you to their fan bases, Matt Mcmillan doing play by play, or Tim Brewster being a sideline reporter? It's like FOX is trying to induce homicidal rage.


Sarv: Over. Things I know about the Lions:

1) Calvin Johnson and Ndamaka Suh are good at football.
2) If Stafford stays healthy they will be in the hunt for the post-season.
3) http://www.totalpackers.com/2010/06/25/matthew-staffords-broad-is-still-hot/

GREEN BAY PACKERS 11.5 Wins Over+105/Under-120

Current Record: (Unable to disclose)

Tor and Sarv: Under. It's hard to want to root for the packers, and 12 wins is a lot of wins to get. All it takes is one awkward landing of Aaron Rodgers knee and you've won the bet. Having said that, if I were to actually pick 5 of these to bet on at the start of the season, these high end ones, (Packers and Pats) and low end ones (Panthers/Bills etc) feel too volatile to me to actually know how the heck to bet them.

HOUSTON TEXANS 8.5 Wins Over-110/Under-110
INDIANAPOLIS COLTS 9.5 Wins Over-140/Under+120

Records: 6-3 and 0-9 Respectively

Tor and Sarv: Texans Over/Colts Under I'm tackling these two in one fell swoop. I heard stories from ESPN insiders like "Peyton Manning can't turn his neck even a little bit" a month before the season started. and that "Peyton may or may not be flying to Germany to get stem cell treatment." Even though just rumors it made me wayyyy out on the Colts, and looking at the rest of the division, in on the Texans by default. The Manning to Painter drop off is just too dramatic. And for goodness sake somebody tell Curtis Painter they aren't casting for Remember the Titans 2, so drop the stupid Sunshine act...

JACKSONVILLE JAGUARS 6.5 Games Over Even/Under -120

Current Record: 2-6
Tor and Sarv: Under. This was before they cut David Garrard, but even with him, no real wide recievers in a pass happy league, incredibly average defense at best, don't see how they would have/will get to 7 wins, felt like a very poor man's Vikings to me.

KANSAS CITY CHIEFS 8 Wins Over +135/Under-155
Current Record: 4-4

Tor Under. Matt Cassel isn't even that good when completely healthy. I know Adam can give up a rib for eve and be just fine, but I Arrowhead ain't no Eden! But seriously, they have no depth, and we can see that as the injuries have decimated this team.

Sarv: Over. Surprisingly, even without Jamaal Charles, the Chiefs find themselves tied for first place in the West with 4 wins. Not surprisingly, all Dwayne Bowe fantasy team names are still annoying and dumb.

MIAMI DOLPHINS 7.5 Wins Over+110/Under-130

Current Record: 1-7

Tor and Sarv: Under. This was my "lock" of the year pick, or whatever gag they use on ESPN currently to display confidence in picks. They decided it'd be a good idea to overpay for Reggie Bush, prompting Saints fans everywhere to laugh uncontrollably. I think their biggest issue, besides Brandon Marshall bipolar jokes, are this team is simply put Jason Bourne. No identity. They are mediocre across the board, and this league you have to do at least one thing well. This team made no sense on paper, and makes no sense in real life.

MINNESOTA VIKINGS 7 Wins Over+110/Under-130

Current Record: 2-6

Tor: Over I stand by this pick. The Vikings could very very easily been 3-2 through 5 games, in fact every team that put up their first half numbers in the first three games of the year were 3-0, so 0-3 was simply a statistical anomaly. Or so I tell myself when I cry myself to sleep every Sunday night.

Sarvey: Under. Wait, Spielman paid $7.25 million for a QB to play 6 games that got benched in favor of Rex Grossman last year!?

NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS 11.5 Wins Over+110/Under-130

Current Record: 5-3

Tor: Over, Bill Belicheat is the best at misinterpreting ze rules! He misinterprets ze rules! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rnqQhUdXgvI

Oh and Tom Brady.

Sarv: Under: The Patriots need to win 7 out of 8 to get to 12 wins. In other news, Tedi Bruschi theme songs are chill: http://cwyattle.tumblr.com/

NEW ORLEANS SAINTS 10 Wins Over-110/Under-110

Current Record: 6-3

Tor and Sarv: Over. Just because the city's dried off doesn't mean I think their team will cool down. Sean Payton is one of the most underrated coaches out there, and they have an alive Drew Brees on their team, which has been known to help. So...yeah.

NEW YORK FOOTBALL GIANTS 9.5 Wins Over +150/Under-170

Current Record: 6-2

Tor and Sarv: Under. When you are staring a -170 in the face, its hard to not see the writing on the wall. This was when they had approximately 1 healthy cornerback, and I'm pretty sure it was Jason Sehorn in black face. When do we see another great white cornerback? When do we even see another white cornerback? Mad props to Jason Sehorn.

NEW YORK JETS 10 Wins. Over +105/Under-125

Current Record: 5-3

Tor and Sarv: Over. I believed in the Rex Ryan. I thought the Sanchize would progress. I believe in the mystical land known as Revis Island.

THE OAKLAND FLYING AL DAVIS CORPSE RAIDERS 7 Wins. Over-110/Under-110

Current Record: 4-4

Tor and Sarv: Under. I don't know what the title above means either. I...I mean they seem so dysfunctional, how can you pick the over. New head coach, same dead owner, the only difference is now he's really dead. (editors note: I wrote the following rant, and the next day Bill Simmons made the same point on his podcast, I have officially synced up brains with him in a horribly creepy way where I know where he is going before he is. Cue up Sting singing "I'll be missing you") I hate this Michael Jackson type death, where everyone is just BASHING this cat non. stop. for the last 10 years of their lives, yet when they die everyone praises them to no end like they are Mother Teresa. I know its fashionable to compliment the dead, but just don't bash them so profusely when they are alive then. Thats it. The end. Whew.


Philadelphia Eagles 10.5 Wins Over-130/Under+110

Current Record: 3-4


Tor: Over. Remember that Tony Danza movie, "The Garbage Picking Field Goal Kicking Philadelphia Phenomenon?" That was pretty cool.


Sarv: Under.
Will all the hype surrounding the Eagles before the season started I think the players thought they were better than they actually were. Not to mention that the Eagles against the run are about as effective as Michael Cuddyer’s ability to hit a right-handers curveball.

Awful Twins metaphors aside, it’s been a disappointing season so far for “the dream team.” Andy Reid can hardly show his face.

Pittsburgh Steelers 10.5 Wins Over-130/Under+110

Current Record: 5-2

Tor and Sarv: Over. I like Mike Tomlin. I like Big Ben (As a quarterback ladies...) And who is to argue against Troy Polamalu's flowing locks?? Their division is tough, but dammit I believe in them. Now go out there and give it all that you've got.

San Diego Chargers 10 Wins Over+115/Under-135

Current Record: 4-4

Tor and Sarv: Over. I never really know what to make of the Chargers. I know Phil Rivers is a dick somewhere in between Ari Gold and Jeremy Piven (Think about it, he's still maybe 94% of the jerk he is on TV...allegedly). I know Norv Turner game plans with hard alcohol at his side (It is the only explanation). But what really made me pick the over is I knew that of the Broncos, Raiders and Chiefs, none would really be all that great. Chargers at 11-5 sounded about right.

San Francisco 49ers 7.5 Wins Over-110/Under-110

Current Record: 7-1

Tor: Under. Picking Alex Smith to win 8 games was just more than I could handle. I get that Harbaugh is a bauss of a coach, but cmon look at Alex Smith's career numbers 57.7% career completion %, 58tds/54ints, and 30 fumbles lost in 59 career games including his great start to this season. Couldn't do it.

Seattle Seahawks 6 Wins Over-105/Under-115

Current Record: 2-6

Tor and Sarv: Under:

If you click on no other link, please select this one. It is all you need to know why the under was selected: http://www.zimbio.com/pictures/5bl0ooVQXpt/Seattle+Seahawks+v+San+Francisco+49ers/TMyPVbxPB2l/Tarvaris+Jackson

St. Louis Rams 7.5 Wins Over+130/Under-150

Current Record: 1-7
Tor and Sarv: Over. I will again utilize my patented distraction tactic when my pick is so obviously flawed. The acronym RAM stands for Random Access Memory, a way for computers to store data. And remember when god sent that Ram so that Abraham wouldn't have to sacrafice Isaac? That was pretty dope.

Tampa Bay Buccaneers 8 Wins Over+130/Under-150

Current Record: 4-4

Tor and Sarv: Under. Josh Freeman can't come back everyyy week. Wide receivers are lacking, and Atlanta/N'Orleans/Carolina is a frisky division to have to wade through. I'm caulking the wagon on this one.

Tennessee Titans: 7 Wins Over+140/Under-120

Tor: Over

Because somebody in that division has to get wins dammit! Oh and Matt Hasselbeck summons strength from his rapidly receding hairline like Popeye does spinach (I'm allowed one truly awful Rick Reilly esque line per blog)

Sarv: Under: Hey Chris Johnson what’s going on with your game this year?

Chris Johnson: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBgIlaTC0vo

Washington Redskins: 6 Wins Over-120 Under Even
Tor/Sarv: Over. Mike Shanahan turned Mike Anderson and Olandis Gary into fricking OJ Simpson without the whole double murder thing, he can do it in the nation's capital too.

Whew! If you are still reading this, you most certainly should see your local optomologist immediately. Hope it was fun to read, because it was fun to write. Enjoy the rest of the NFL season and happy gambling!

If I Wrote For the Onion Part Deux

Twins GM Bill Smith, sweating through his ruffled shirt, stumbled into his office at noon yet again today smelling of stale cigarettes and broken dreams. "What frickin month is it again?" Smith directed at his receptionist, Tanya. Before she had a chance to answer, however, he was already face deep in a juicy lucy, a favorite among his secret stash of meat.

"He really knows his stuff." noted Tanya while nervously looking from side to side. "He gives 110% to this organization, really does his research," she again reiterated fighting back at her increasingly misty eyes.

After pulling a rack of ribs off of his "Billy's Office BBQ" cookset he recently purchased on the company dollar, Smith began accessing what wry move he could execute to best build a contender next. "Ya know what we should do", Smith yelled in Tanya's direction in between bites, "maybe trade somebody, I don't know, just feels right ya know?"

After whether or not he had bathed in the last week was brought into question, Smith quickly became irate. "I don't have to answer to you or to anyone!" he screamed, demanding a conference call with team owner Jim Pohlad. When informed Mr. Pohlad was out on business, Smith quickly decided to trade Jim Thome to "spite the other Jim." "We got too many damn J names round here anyways," Smith continued as he readied his office cot for a nap. "Stupid... Jims..."

Once Smith fell asleep, an open bag of cheesy poofs in hand, Tanya broke down into tears. "I just feel so bad for everyone in Minnesota", she said while dabbing her eyes with a hankerchief. "I mean Mr. Smith would have never made that awful Johan Santana trade if I hadn't missed his daily 4 oclock gravy bath". She wearily continued, "And Wilson Ramos for Matt Capps? What are the odds his beer rucksack and snicker satchel would both be empty at the same time?" Now quivering and huddled in the corner bawling uncontrollably she went on, "I just want it to stop..."

Now rested, Smith uncinched his belt, leaned back in his Cookie Monster themed chair with his hands resting interlocked together atop his head. "I done good," he noted now patting his protruding belly affectionately. "I mean we had some hot chicks in our line-up today. 2, count 'em 2 Rene's! What other GM would even consider putting two people named Rene in a major league line up?"

Now walking towards the soft serve machine for what Smith simply referred to as "fourthsies," Tanya composed herself, and was found washing off and reapplying her streaking mascara. She redid her hair, tucked in her blouse, and whispered "Tell my story...Please...tell my story," then slowly and reluctantly walked over to aid Smith with his hot fudge ladle.

The Twins have a -144 run differential, 2nd worst the majors, and are 17 games out of first place.

Hot Dogs and Laundry

When all the teams you have ever cared about stink, it makes you re-evaluate.



It was cathartic for me, I hope it's enjoyable for you:



I am watching the Twins collapse before my very eyes. Bill Smith has turned Johan Santana into Jim Hoey, Wilson Ramos into Cat Mapps, and Jose Morales austensibly into a flaming pile of dog sh%t that not even Billy Madison would attempt to light on fire on a cratchety neighboor's front porch. They are taking feeble hacks at the mammoth Michael Pineida's sharp slider and explosive fastball. I can only chuckle to myself in a defensive grinace (combination grin/grimace) to try to deflect the anger and sadness of watching a first place team wither away...


Enter Mark Turgeon. Another in the endless string of coaches to bail on Texas A & M for a larger more prestigeous program, using A & M as a stepping stone. You can't help but feel for the Aggie faithful, cheering for analagous smaller market professional and college teams myself. You hear Turgeon commit himself passionately and feverously to the University of Maryland's credo and ways, college station a distant memory of yesterday.


Enter Rajon Rando. Kendrick Perkins and Rondo are crying after Perkins' inexpicable trade, best friends for years told to say goodbye because a man named Danny Ainge decided the team needed a better swingman, to look towards the future. It's just a business, they say begrudgingly as Perk packs up his things. Nothing personal, just a business.


Enter us. We bond over them with friends. We read about them in the paper, we call in to declare our opinions to people with loud shows and louder egos. We buy tickets. We buy jerseys. We pay taxes. We build stadiums. But in glorification of what?


Enter me. Wearing my Lakers Shaq jersey loud and proud. I wear it not because I love the Lakers. I hate them in fact. I hate what they stand for, casual fans who leave games early, always having big name guys, front runners. But I have always gravitated towards Shaq. He is a freak of nature, but is personable, likable, and created the blueprint for how to market yourself as an athlete that many have followed, some to the nth degree (see Johnson, Chad). I enjoyed watching him dominate games while Kobe awkwardly tried to figure out if he was Batman or Robin. And yet, when I wear that jersey I get called out the Lakers fan I'm not, as I should. I'm in a Lakers Jersey.


But should we see the team and not the player first? Are we cheering for a person or the uniform he wears? It's so much more than just a uniform right? It has to be. It's the memories of you high fiving your dad after he catches a foul ball. It's the smell of hotdogs at your favorite stadium. It's you and your buddies having a beer and yelling at your TV as though you are the ultimate authority on life. It's creating a sports community. Fate and circumstance and injuries and ping pong balls brought these people to Minnesota for us to agonize over, critique and cheer for. We get to know them better than ourselves, watching games intently, analyzing highlights, box scores, advanced stats. Some of us are even foolish enough to blog about them.


Enter Cleveland. A city with 7 years of memories involving one man. Billions of dollars in city revenue and franchise value rest in the hands of that one man. The man is a local boy himself. He understands the psyche of the city better than most. Yet he chooses warm weather, playing with his friends, villification, and watches as his jersey burns in the streets at the hands of those who once worshiped him. Through the flames they try to forget a man that embodied a team hopelessly intertwined with a city, destined to cheer for laundry.

The Hank Baskett All Stars

I have been tinkering with this idea for some time, but in the end I decided it was time to unveil it to the world. Ladies and gentleman I give you the Hank Baskett All Stars:

What is this you may ask? It is a criterium, a basis, a filing system for an inexplicable and unavoidable truth of today's society. Professional athletes who are varying degrees of bad at what they allegedly do for a living are marrying/dating people they should have no business marrying, or so every bitter blogger or male blog reader thinks or should think. Just like a previous, admittedly shallow and unnecessary post regarding women wearing large sunglasses (http://lessrock-moretalk.blogspot.com/2009/07/inconvenient-truth.html), we are breaking this bad boy category style, this time with a little terror alert twist.

Code Green: The Kris Humphries

This category contains an instance where you would typically do a double take when you saw the first picture of the couple together, but quickly rationalize it in your brain to the point where you could accept it and move on with your day, no problems.

So- Kim Kardashian and Kris Humprhies- Sure, there is some personal bitterness towards Humphries leaving the U early to go pro, the fact that he played at Hopkins, and still plays the game like it's one on five. (Seriously, look at this man's assist per game stats throughout his career, go ahead, that second google tab is really tempting you isn't it? I mean I bet they are really really bad, truly embodying his selfishness! I'd be such a shame to not investigate this properly!!..Ok I'll stop)

But he does currently log significant minutes for the Nets, or Nyets as is fun to call them after being bought by a Russian billionaire, was a stud swimmer (second to only some guy named Michael Phelps growing up) and I'm no expert but he seems like a decent looking dude. Couple that with Kim dating around, yeah I get it. Code Green.

Code Blue: The Jeff Garcia

What do you do when you are running sportscenter and it's a really slow newsday? You run a special on Jeff Garcia's life that has no point whatsoever. I didn't find him particularly charming or endearing, nor was the segment engaging. What I saw was a long time floundering CFL/backup QB golfing and doing other pointless stuff with his hot wife. I name the Code Blue zone is his honor just because of how pissed of I get to the this day thinking about how I wasted 5 minutes of my life watching that. Jeff Garcia- You balding annoying irrelevant quarterback, here's to you and your wife Carmella, which, incidently is a top 5 ridiculous name just below Carmelo's bride, Lala.

Code Yellow: The Matt Treanor.

Things are starting to heat up here to the point where I, a sports junkie, had no idea this dude was married to Misty May-Treanor until last year's baseball playoffs despite the fact that she slapped his name onto hers. I just never made the connection between floundering one time Marlins, for fish emphasis, backup catcher (I'm sensing a theme here) and the beach volleyball star.

Code yellow isn't a place for hate. Code yellow is a place where under the strict Hank Baskett All-star/terror alert guidelines, we place people who have the ability to have us hear their name repeadedly associated with their bride and still forget who they are. The fact that they are so incredibly mediocre and plain is what makes them so dangerous. For all I know Matt Treanor could have been my neighboor all my life, or right behind me as we speak. I'm not going to turn around so we may never know for sure. What we do know is that Matt Treanor is a colorless emotionless blob of organic matter and I am on to you sir!

Code Orange: The Casey Daigle

I don't really follow softball, but allegedly incredible pitcher Jenny Finch could have her pick of many a man, and chooses... Casey Daigle. That's right. The Casey Daigle. I...I'm going to save some strength for the inevitably draining Code Red rant that lies ahead but... Casey Daigle? This couple had a kid and named it Ace. Ace Daigle. I really don't know what to do with that. This relationship feels more made up than any of the fat guy with attractive wife sitcoms that have become pervasive post "King of Queens." I'll even include the "Still Standing" couple in that, reluctantly. Oh how I pity Ace Daigle.

Code Red: The Hank Baskett

Let me preface this by saying I don't know Hank Baskett at all. I really haven't heard him speak, but I don't like Hank Baskett. He is a very tall wide reciever that God made in a way so that he should be very good at being a professional wide receiver. He is not. His hands have been described as "Charlie Sheen accidently stumbling onto 10 ounces of cocaine" hard. Remember that brilliant onside kick the Saints executed 2 super bowls ago? Who do you think made that all possible by muffing it. You guessed it! Hank Baskett. Hank Baskett even has a stupid and even ironic name seeing as you cannot serve as a basket if you can't keep projectiles from falling to the earth.

Enter Kendra, the lovable playboy playmate who may or may not be able to look at leather as it still brings back traumatic Hugh Heffner memories... Was she just scarred enough to consider marrying perenneal loser and atrocious Viking (leading to much of this irrational anger) Hank Baskett? Only god truly knows.

How Hank Baskett's child wasn't dropped while in his "steady hands" I'll never know.

The State of the MN Sports Fan Address

The Twins are the Timberwolves of old, making the playoffs only to dash my hopes and dreams in the first round without so much as a wimper. The Timberwolves are the Twins of old, a lovable band of misfits who are as adept at losing as a Bernie Madoff investor. (I'm voting for Sebastian Telfair as Rich Becker, mediocre and annoying and we just can't get rid of this guy...) I really also like Mauer/Garnett parallels.... think about it.


The Vikings are...well the Vikings, and I'm told by people who care about hockey that the Wild (still the most ridiculous nickname in all of professional sports, it's an adjective people) are mediocre, and that Gopher Hockey in this the state of Hockey are more on par with Ferris State. (alleged Hockey burn.) The Gopher's basketball team are proving they still can't win on the road, and I'm not going to acknowledge the Gopher Football team.


All Metrodome roof collapse references/metaphors aside, Minneota sports are a mess right now, and the colder a state is, the more they care about their teams, because if Moorhead is any example, I'd sure as sh** rather stay inside with a brew and watch the game than weather the elements to do...well anything that requires me to weather the elements.


There is hope, but like all things Minnesota sports, this brand of hope is more along the lines of Ellis Boyd Redding's view of hope:


The 1:35-1:50ish part is where I feel Red could be directly talking to Minnesota Sports diehards: (Is Shawshank Redemption not flawless? Really wanted to work it into this one in some way...count it!)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=hWUfFwoe8ko&feature=related

This dangerous hope of mine lies in dangerous hands. I am blindly optimistic about a team that had 10,000 to 1 odds in Vegas to win the NBA champtionship, the worst by far of any NBA team. Their most recent 3 point loss the Spurs had me not thinking of another wasted road opprotunity for a signtature win, but rather how Love threw up yet another 15-15, how we rallied after Beasley went down, and (gulp) how hard Anthony Tolliver played? I'm fantasizing about a starting lineup next year of Rubio, Wesley who has been a pleasant surprise, Love, Beasley and Insert Center X here. With Martell off the Bench, 2 Utah 1st rounders in our pocket, maybe we can be a playoff team with this very young and very talented Nucleus??

To those who say that our 2012 first round pick is unprotected and Clipper bound after the Marko Jaric incident, that Love and Beasley are going to have to get PAID when their contracts are up, and that Rubio is lukewarm at best to ever come to Minnesota leaving you with the worst draft pick in recent memory, Thabeet aside, in Jonny Flynn-- I respond with (covering ears and closing eyes really hard) Can't hear you!! lalalalalala can't hear you!! Essentially being a Wolves fan requires one to regress to being a preschooler, simply appreciating them for how tall they are for Crunch's antics. (Not too much of a challenge for me thankfully!)

(Picture above is Webster's definition of "Pasty White Hope")

I'll save some of the Twins talk for a later date, but the fact of the matter is that the land of the Randy Ratio, Gary Anderson missing 1 field goal, the Daunte Roll, J.R Rider, Denny Hocking, Torii Hunter relinquishing inside-the-park home runs, begging 41 year old quarterbacks to come back for one more go around, Gugliotta tribal tattoos, Tony Fiore's palmball, Tony Fiore references, Final four's taken away, Courtney James being cuffed and taken away, 12 men on the field penalties followed by interceptions, Rick Rickert, and of course, Jesse Crain, Bennie Sapp and Nick Punto is in dire need of something to truly go its way.

Here's to a genuine hope.

Weezer and Me

I don't know how I have had this blog for so long and not had an extensive Weezer-related post. It seems in the inevitability category along the lines of the Ashton/Demi Moore marriage ending in divorce, or my NBA predictions bursting into flames like Fawkes the Phoenix (sigh).

Warning: This posts gets pretty long. I just have a lot to say about Weezer. Weezer is great.

Weezer is my favorite band. That is to say they WERE my favorite band. I don't listen to them as much as I did in the past, especially not some of the new material, but that's not to say they still aren't my favorite band...because they ARE... because of what they were, and because of what they've meant to me. (I've reread this paragraph about 5 times just now and understand it makes no sense, but upon the 6th reading it might... I stand by it)

Rivers Cuomo and I have a complex relationship despite never having met. It is so strange how people we never meet and who never intended intentionally to impact your life can have such a grip over your mood, your person, your ideals (see Childress, Brad). But, nonetheless I have identified with Rivers's thoughts, dreams, and fears as chronicled through song throughout the years. Blue Album and Pinkerton embodied his plight as a socially conscious neurotic young 20 something Harvard drop out. His outlook on life mirrored my own when I started getting into them during my awkward (whose aren't?)teen years. It made his music so relatable in that it wasn't just empty words and a catchy beat, but rather almost a narrative of his life. As he expressed his dismay over how he felt truly safe alone in his garage writing music, or how he was honestly just tired of sex, you in a strange way were able to pity his struggle and use it to relate to your own.

Chuck Klosterman had an interesting take on Rivers in his book "Eating the Dinosaur" in this same vein that resonated with me. His contention was essentially that Rivers' lyrics are the most literal of any band. He is not trying to have these lyrics be directly relatable to you like other bands (Springsteen comes to mind in terms of blatant pandering) but rather are void of true metaphor or imperonal presence. (I truly only could dissent on "Undone (the sweater song) in that the entire song is a metaphor, but still...his point is solid) Any ability for you to relate is thus not because of Rivers's conscious thought process of attempting to appeal to the masses.

This is most important is terms of how many fans, myself included, have felt increasingly detached to the more recent works of Weezer. I have for some time complained that Rivers is selling out with obnoxious songs like "Beverly Hills" and "Can't Stop Partying". What happened to my Rivers of old?? The answer: He got older. He had different inspirations. He has a family. He has a kid. He is becoming increasingly comfortable in his own skin, and embracing his rock star status.

He is actually doing the exact OPPOSITE of selling out because he is still producing songs that represent his inner most thoughts and feelings. Those ideals and contextualization of the world around him just aren't the same as they once were. We can't expect Rivers to attempt to connect to the Blue Album/Pinkerton fan base with new songs because to do so wouldn't be genuine and wouldn't be Weezer. You can see his increasing confidence throughout Green Album and Maladroit (Keep Fishin/Dope Nose/Don't Let Go/Photograph), with flagship songs decidedly more upbeat and carefree carrying into Red Album and Raditude.

I have seen Weezer twice live and comparing the two performances in hindsight I realized just how black and white they were. I first saw them with PK at first ave when I was a sophomore in high school when they were touring for "Make Believe", which was about to come out in a month or so. It was such a strange band dynamic as Rivers sheepishly would introduce songs with Scott Shriner (bassist) getting revved up to his left, and during songs could be seen bouncing off the walls, and climbing on speakers, and Pat Wilson (drums) keepin' the beat with immense passion behind him. He had a bit of a smirk when many of the members of the audience would sing along with the songs that theoretically hadn't debuted yet, and all the while during the solo's (that usually mirrored the chorus, naturally) he would be strumming so calmly and meticulously, ensuring that he would not strike a note improperly.

I think this was the turning point album in terms of the aforementioned 20-something neuroticism (via the songs Perfect Situation and Peace most prominently) to the new-look Rivers, optimism is tow (via the songs We Are All on Drugs and Beverly Hills). The albums that we see after this one are much more plentiful with songs that could be best categorized with the latter.

The next show I saw with Log/Leah/Kelsey @ Xcel while promoting Red Album had showmanship abound, however. Rivers playfully used Weezer related props, like an old fashioned Weezer radio, and flaunted the bands matching jumpsuits around the stage. Some songs Rivers would play drums, and let Pat Wilson have the sing/lead guitar honors, (He allowed Brian Bell, Shriner and Wilson to all write a song on Red album, they are songs 7-9 on the album I believe, another thing the younger more power-hungry, less about band unity Rivers would not have done). When he soloed, he jammed, and we all jammed with him. He seemed so at peace with himself on stage as he interacted with the crowd, as opposed to almost ignoring them and attempting to pretend he was at a band rehersal.

It's basically taken me all this while to reach this conclusion (To paraphrase the great Denny Green) Rivers is who we thought he is! He is who we thought he is! Maybe Weezer doesn't frequent my "top 25 most played" list on my ipod as frequently as it used to. But that's ok. I will still like a faithful sheep purchase my "Hurley Extended Deluxe Edition" the day it comes out (like I did not long ago) and anything else Rivers throws my way. Because me and Rivers don't have to see eye to eye all the time, I can just savor and remember the times when we did.

It's more than me and David Kahn can say.

Sports (sports) Sports Sports Sports (sports)

I know I'm not alone when I say this is going to be one of the most exciting NBA seasons in...well...ever. The summer of 2010 was unprecedented and has given rise to one of the most hyped teams in..well...ever. I am not at all concerned about who will take the last shot, or how the team will mesh. The only thing that is going to stop this team is if one of the big 2 1/2 (I'm not ready to annoint Chris Bosh superstardom just yet, although I do think he will have a very productive fantasy season given that teams will in no way be able to game plan for him) is injuries.



People seem to forgotten amid "The decision" and the never can be overused line, especially with a tone that implies a less than clean connotation, "taking my talents to south beach", is just how talented the man is. The over under a team that won 61 games last year, that lost its four last games of the year because they rested players/did not care/Mike Brown's corpse was "coaching", having only appreciably lost one player is 30 1/2!! 30 1/2! The astute minds in Vegas whose only job is to analyze this stuff (bless their hearts) say Lebron is worth at least 30 wins to that Cleveland team. Now put that monster on a team with Dwayne Wade (who is admittedly more fragile than Robin Williams in any role that he grows a beard for) and Chris Bosh, who may or may not have came out of that dudes stomach in "Alien." Look Out World!!


Only Boston (because of the Big 3, Rondo, lotta bulk in the frontcourt in the O'Neals) and The Lakers (because of the mamba, and Wallace, Chris) I'm still so upset over the Paul Gasol giveaway- Why Chris Wallace?!? Why?? Did Jerry Buss hurt you? Show us where he touched you! This is a safe place Chris Wallace! (building on previous Robin Williams humor) It's not your fault! It's not your fault! Its..not..your...fault.....

Whew, for that its worth I have a few bold calls:


1) The worst team in the league will be the Raptors. I mean, can you even name a player on this team? And don't you dare say William H Macy because Jurassic Park jokes will not be tolerated!

Plus It's just fun to laugh at Canada isn't it? (I'm not including the Wolves in this prediction, I can't think rationally about them)


2) The Clippers will make the playoffs this year. Just you wait.


3) David Kahn will take off a mask to reveal he is actually a cyborg from the future who had to ensure the Wolves would never win a championship to save the world in 2420.


4) Al Jefferson puts up a 20/10 and the Jazz are a 3 seed in the West. Everyone wonders aloud why "David Kahn" would trade him for 2 future first round picks that will likely be in the 16-22 pick range and a man named Kosta.


5) Greg Oden stays healthy all year. Then reveals he is actually 57 years old to get a discount on his grand slam at Dennys.


And some not-so-bold predictions:

1) Sebastian Telfair and Luke Rindour get into a "who is the biggest defensive liability at the PG position in the NBA" fight. Both win, meaning nobody wins.


2) Darko Milicic panics and starts waving a towel around madly on the bench, until it is revealed he has been brainwashed by Mark Madsen who gets a standing ovation at the Target Center for making Darko borderline useful.


3) Larry Bird and Jerry Sloan get into a "who likes white basketball players more" fight. But end up becoming best friends and crime fighting ninjas. (You'll thank me later Spielberg)


4) A tree will fall in the forest, and nobody will be around to hear it fall.


5)And the least bold call of all- The Timberwolves will be a lottery team, and will not move up in draft position from their projected lottery slot (sigh)

Now, if you'll excuse me Jenn Sterger is expecting a picture message from me any minute now.

Brett Favre does not think Jenn Sterger jokes are funny.

PK's Song

To death do us part, in sickness and health, and for better or for worse. These statements are the backbone of any marriage. I personally took these vows when I was 6 years old and my father took me to my first Twins game. Stuck in the prime of their disastrous run of the 90's (editors note: let's proclaim this the "Jeff Reboulet" era), the Twins became my one true love. Regardless of result, the way they played the game with hustle desire and passion capitivated me and won my respect and my heart.

I stuck with them through the contraction era, where on more than one occasion there were more promotional giveaways than fans to give them to, nonetheless I stood by my floundering team with steadfast adoration. Then, finally, in 2002 my beloved losers made the playoffs and made believers out of a state that had rejected them for nearly a decade. They became a true team at the hands of the "Soul Patrol" and the undying arm of Brad Radke only to fall to the (Editor's censor...involves coitus except with the the anus.... and a few expletives) clutches of the rally monkey and eventual world series champion Angels. For the next seven years I watched the Twins continue to be built around fundamentals and a never-say -die attitude that gave them national accolades. I have never once questioned the attitude or desire of the men in the "Twin Stripes" until last night.

After a thrilling (thankfully only) 162 game season in which they lost an MVP and still battled their way to 90+ wins and a division title, the Twins I have grown to love faltered. After losing two hard fought games at the new Target Field, the Twins ran out one of the most embarassing and gutless performances I have ever witnessed. At Yankee Stadium, one of the most hostile stadiums known to sport, the Twins failed to rise to the challenge of not only representing the State they call home but also themselves. I, like many of you, watched as each Twin complacently took uninspired plate appearances that led to minimal productivity throughout the night.

After Jorge Posada singled in the first run on a (very) poorly located pitch by Brian Duensing, the already deflated dugout collapsed for good. That one run might as well have been ten the way they were carrying themselves the rest of the evening. Every single one of those players should be embarassed for the way they approached that game.

As it were, this love of mine for the Twins can't be broken by another tragic postseason meltdown. The beauty of baseball is that in several months players will report to spring training and that endless pursuit for a title will begin again. But until then each fan in Twins Territory will be left with a sour taste in their mouths, repeating the mantra made famous by the Chicago Cubs, "There is always next year."

-Peter Kelly

If you've seen this man, ask him where he goes during the Postseason

So Many October Jottings, Such Little Time..

I was mingling with some females in the library the other day when I struck up a conversation regarding their penmanship. I was complimentary, marveling that such pristine and crisp words could actually spawn from another person's hand. They shrugged it off, but I grabbed my notebook so we could consider the two handwritings in parallel. They stood by their indifference, one even suggesting that she had decidedly poor handwriting. I argued all girls have absurdly good penmanship and to compare herself to some unattainable caligraphy type level is absurd.

I proclaim this admittedly long winded and unnecessary story to all the land to make this broader point: (Which I shall do in one of those old awesome real men of genius commercial styles, you're welcome world)

Here's to you, every man who ever existed. Your slobbery and overall nonchalance towards manners, etiquette, and really just common decency has set the bar so low for future males that any act of cleanliness or neatness is considered a minor miracle unto itself. You have done this so well, men of old, that even after confronted by my, lets face it, comically and extraordinarily awful attempt at what could even be considered documented English in words with one's own hand, a female thought her concise and reasonable etchings were subpar.

The bar isn't just low, there is no bar. So a drink to you, every man who has ever existed. Thank you for making sure the world doesn't just expect so little from me, but from the fightin' Y chromosomes everywhere.

(No attempt at a transition)

I was watching some of the NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE (channeling my inner Ron Jawarski) the other day and I saw something that continues to irk me every time it happens, which is more frequently than the amount of times Renee Zellweger has been mistaken for a swamp troll while you've been reading this, but I digress.

It is when the little white 145 lb referee feels obligated to stand in front of the return man after he takes a knee on the kickoff, his arms flailing madly in the air to promote peace. Every human being in the stadium has seen this man kneel, and nobody has or is ever going to tackle him at this time. But he takes in upon himself to go secret service on this dudes ass with more passion and vigor than Sinbad in "First Kid" (Oh no he didn't (other hypothetical sassy person) Oh yes he did!!!) -other aside- Sinbad's finist hour no doubt- go to 4:25 secondish http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e339GJ3Wgd8

Lets get real, 63 year old line judge with high blood pressure and an artificial hip, if one of the specimens currently sprinting toward you were to even accidently graze your shoulder we might have to decide whether or not to pull the plug on your old ass (Must....resist...Terry...Schiavo....joke...too....soon....).

So stop it, just stop it. You throw your little yellow flag, and I'll yell at my TV screen until I see the replay and reluctantly agree that Phil Loadholt did indeed commit yet another holding penalty and that will be the end of it.

If you see this man- play dead, for if you attempt to run past him, there is a 15% he will escort you to your destination like a gentleman, but an 85% chance he will claw at your jersey from an awkward angle then tackle you, rendering you unable to get past him...LOADHOLT!!!!

If I Wrote for The Onion....

David Kahn, lawyer, former sportswriter and current GM of the Minnesota Timberwolves is flaunting his intellect in other facets of life, well outside the sports world. The former Indiana Pacers GM known most prominently for, during his time with Indiana, architecting a draft day trade to secure point guard Jamaal Tinsley from the Atlanta Hawks, has made his presence felt throughout the community in his humble Oregon town.

Most recently Kahn was seen relentlessly polishing his new acquisition, a 2004 Kia Optima, which he received after he traded in his 2009 Acura MDX SUV and $3000 cash. The dealership later commented that they were more than willing to do the trade straight up, but Kahn insisted on throwing in the extra money to “seal the deal.”

The salesman whom Kahn predominantly dealt with during his 3 hours at the Portland Kia dealership, Alan Schierbeck, didn’t mind the encounter on the whole. However, he was annoyed how Kahn insisted on exchanging the $3000 “secretly”, 100 dollars at a time via a variety of different very forced “secret” handshakes. “It was really creepy” admitted Schierbeck.

“I can’t believe they fell for it! That Optima has 3,000 miles less than my Acura, and gets better gas mileage, ” said Kahn after proudly driving away from the dealership. As he rolled down his new sunroof he noted with a wry smile, “AND… the chicks dig it.”
When not polishing his new car, Kahn can often be found haggling with his neighbors over household goods.

Noted neighbor Randy Porter, “I don’t know why David insists on having lengthy negotiations about every little thing. I mean, if he needs to borrow my lawnmower he can, I’m a pretty reasonable guy I like to think.”

“Yeah I robbed Porter blind the other day,” boasted Kahn with little prompting. “You shoulda seen the look on his face!” After staring blankly towards the ground for several moments, Kahn continued, trying to hold back laughter while shaking his head, “I mean to think I only have to trim the Azaleas that border our yards three times a month for a year in exchange for the use of his hedge trimmer today… Well I guess that’s why I’m the president of basketball operations of an NBA franchise and he’s a teacher. “

Kahn was later seen touting his Monopoly track record versus his 9 year old son, Michael. “The thing about Mike is, he totally undervalues the purples. They are right by Go for Christssake! Just the other day, we did a Baltic for Marvin Gardens swap, straight up.”

Kahn’s wife of 17 years, Sharon, began laughing uncontrollably when asked about David’s compulsive need to negotiate at all times.

“I think he still hasn’t beaten Michael in Monopoly”, said Sharon between gasps for air. “He must have gotten up 6 or 7 times last game to get new dice last time they played,” continued Mrs. Kahn. “He really just shouldn’t have given Mike all his railroads for a get out of jail free card. He would have had at least something of a chance if he didn’t execute that gem.”

“There’s a sucker born every minute” said David, after his most recent defeat. He continued, with a gleam in his eye, “You just gotta know where to look.”