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.

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.

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!!!!

DS/Twins

An interesting thing you’ll note if you grace the halls of Concordia is these posters. The posters consist of advertising for the dining services. There are roughly infinity things wrong with this picture. First of all I’ll equate these to the advertising by the Census bureau in terms of just how flawed it is. Isn’t the census something we theoretically have to do anyway? Why are you wasting millions of dollars to try to convince someone to do something that is considered an obligation in your eyes? I didn’t do my census right away and nothing happened, eventually a guy started coming to our door, until we did it, and that was that. I was not swayed by all of the hip suburbanites who were having such an awesome time telling the federal government they were white in the commercials.

Similarly, I feel DS does not need to waste their time with awful posters around campus. Freshman and sophomores must, I repeat must, (some very crafty sophs excluded), live on campus and have a meal plan. Eating somewhere around twice a day for eight months will lead someone to make their own opinions a million times over. These underclassmen need no posters, they are already going to eat there because they have to. And not one of them after 2 full years doesn’t know -exactly- all of the pros and cons of continuing a meal plan there.

I feel insulted by the posters every time I look at them as well because to think they’d persuade even one person to go from not having a meal plan to having one is appalling. One of them says something along the lines of “20 dollars for an entrée, appetizer and dessert? Not here! With some smiling person in the background naturally eating there less than 20 dollar meal. I don’t drop 20 bucks a pop at any restaurant I frequently attend DS. Nobody is thinking, Hmm where can I pay less than 20 dollars for a decent meal in today’s day and age… where?!?!???

Dumb.

Save yourself some paper, ink, and four idiots time thinking up these posters, probably getting paid too much per hour from my tuition to advertise something that need not be advertised.

I filled out my census (eventually), and I had my mandatory meal plans. Both times have now passed. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to create a propaganda campaign to promote this new wave that will soon be sweeping the country, breathing!

Twins Talk 2010:
The Twinks are in first place and feeling fine. Francisco Liriano looks so great right now. I don’t know what happened. Maybe we all just rushed to judgement (oops), and forgot he’d undergone major elbow surgery, but wow. Fastball touching 97 at times, that same slider that lefty after lefty wave over by 6 inches, realizing only at the last moment how silly they are about to look.

This is not your Twins of old, either. We got guys that can drop bombs. Thome, although we could put against Vlad Guerrero in a “who looks like their legs are filled with country fried steak” contest, still mashes. Cuddyer, Kubel and Morneau are still home run threats. And Span, Hudson and Mauer look to be on pace to put up some crazy OBP numbers. I especially like this team because they are fun to watch. The old pitching and defense teams of old were efficient, and won division titles, but fizzled in the playoffs. Looking back, I was a bit of an optimist to think that an infield of Corey Koskie’s back, Cristian Guzman (guz- MAN) if you’re Jon Miller and have to pronounce everything properly in Spanish to remind us you can speak it sort of, Luis Rivas’s sorry ass, and Dougy fresh.

The lone flaw of the team is spotty starting pitching at times (See Blackburn, N), and of course the compost known in some cultures as Jesse Crain. (See above picture begrudgingly signing autographs to reduce value of goods he is signing) Recently I suggested online that “Jim Abbott’s nub could deliver better pitches than Jesse Crain.” After reflecting upon this further I decided this was a very unfair and unflattering statement to make… to Jim Abbott’s nub. I meant no disrespect Jim, I mean your nub was at least useful, you could put your glove on it when you pitched. To compare it or you in any way to Jesse Crain was wrong of me. Jesse Crain isnt useful. He can best be compared to having a microwave on a deserted island. Sure he throws hard/ can handily heat up food, but there is no plug in available/breaking pitch of any significance/ability to spot up/ soul (in both cases) to be found.

Let it be known that is was right here that America was first reminded that nobody wins the crane game…nobody. I pray every night that I am wrong, but I guess some prayers do go unanswered (sappy acoustic guitar in background) This picture has nothing to do with anything. I just think its awesome.

North by Northwest

Not long ago, I was helping out at the Great Plains Food Shelf, and the experience was a very strange one to say the least. First of all, we were marking, and packaging Ugg boots, loading them by the box onto palate after palate. These things are retailing for 150 a pop. Don’t these people have greater needs than being fashionable? I am picturing a homeless man in south LA wearing a garbage bag- pancho, and Uggs. Let this sink in please. If you haven’t started to gauge your eyes out in frustration read on.

There was a worker there shuffling things around on a forklift, and I happened to ask him where the bathroom was. Reasonable question. He responded by telling me it was around the corner and east of the stairs. East of the stairs? I’m not Ferdinand Magellan over here. I frantically looked up to find the north star, but in vein, considering we were INDOORS. I dislike when people don’t give directions in terms of left and right when I’m outside, but come on man. My pocket contents are typically phone keys and wallet. I typically leave my compass hiking stick, and merit badges at home, so unless you’re getting molested by your troop leader please refrain from telling me stuff is “East of the stairs.” Athank you. (Fumbling for number of good lawyer)

Something every person who takes living in 2010 for granted absolutely must do is re-watch the original “Mission Impossible.” Not only will this make you hate Tom Cruise even more (possible??), you will laugh out loud at the alleged technology. The computers are so clunky and obnoxious. The dialogue in hindsight is completely laughable. And best of all, I think Tom Cruise is wearing a mask, and dramatically unveils himself as someone else about infinity times. Tom Cruise had probably been practicing this maneuver for years in front of a mirror every night, just waiting for his chance to do it in every scene in a movie.

Also, the deaths of all of Tom’s colleagues (way overly done line- very funny—(THEY’RE DEAD…THEY’RE ALL DEAD!!) are so melodramatic and stupid. The old man dying on a bridge then falling into the river, and his female counterpart watching someone being pulled against a gate, walking over there, and being stabbed by the same assailant. Dumb. After Last Samurai I didn’t think I could hate Tom Cruise anymore. I type corrected.

To put this movie into perspective, the N64 was the best video game system in the year it came out… Oh wait, it still is! (Receiving scorn of 1000 nerds who are angerly reaching for their PS3 controllers/inhaler)

Starbucks

I have never been a coffeeshop guy. Maybe it’s because I’m stubborn and have already condemned that entire crowd irrationally as hippie punksters. Maybe it’s because I’m cheap. Or maybe it’s because I don’t drink coffee. Regardless, I recently reluctantly agreed to study at Starbucks, and my world got turned on its head.

There is a harmony about the place, an inexplainable quality. I literally hadn’t been in a coffee shop in years. The employees rocking the dramatic headsets caught me off guard, each one it seemed should be shouting instructions at a pilot, not brewing up a cappacino. Ordering coffee is like a language unto itself, and I realized how unprepared I was as I listened to customers ahead of me in line order extravagantly, using words I had never heard before. I went with the hot chocolate.

When I did muster the courage to order, I noted how the smile of the girl taking my order seemed so sincere, like there was nothing she’d rather be doing that getting me my grande hot chocolate. Such a far cry from what you usually get from fast food joints, whose employees’ eyes are tired, and whose smiles are those who have served too many fries, robotic.

As we sat down to set up shop, I started to take the place in. It had a very distinct style. Unique artwork was plastered all around with no explanation or cohesion. One, a painting of a depression-era building, near collapse, caption-less, next to it, an upbeat collage of bright colors.

There was a certain buzz about the air. The anticipation of caffeine junkies getting their fix, white noise meshing with the soft acoustic music that filled the air, as though people would hear this. No ear was naked, each branding their very own pair of Steve Jobs brand white earbuds, drinking the apple kool-aid. And why not? I was just as guilty as the rest of them, and without hesitation slipped mine in and hit shuffle. I was there for the long haul.

I felt insanely productive. I felt at home. After about 20 minutes, however, my ADD got the best of me and I started to people watch. It was like the coffee shop brought out an inner person some people did not know they had. They exuberantly and feverishly talked with their hands in between sips. Mundane topics seemed so much more intellectual as they bounced off the brightly colored walls that jutted out at random places.

And there I sat for hours on end, entertaining myself as I watched the air traffic controllers whip up their elaborate perky concoctions as others studied, talked, laughed, and consumed. The constant buzz of activity and restlessness willed me on as I stared blankly at my notes, Starbucks making a believer out of me.

Contrary to popular belief Hillary Rodham Clinton is not a Starbucks employee... yet.

N Scott, Gus and Kev

Announcers can make or break a game. Bad announcing can stick out like a sore thumb, and great ones blend seamlessly into the game. But, I’ve decided the top 3 announcers based on the simple test of who I would want to narrate my life. (Which will happen once a billionaire decides to philanthropically donate all his money to me for no apparant reason…just you wait)

3) Gus Johnson. The man will always have a special place in my heart. He gets excited when things are only borderline exciting, and when things are actually exciting…oh boy- look out. This is a man who once nicknamed a white player from Maine “The White Lobster”, and when he hit two threes in a row screeched “THE WHITE LOBSTER (pause for effect) IS COOKIN’!!. Brilliant. I would love to listen to him get animated over me doing something commonplace like brushing my teeth. (He cuts towards the incisors... and look at Molars!?!? He Cant be stopped!! he cant be stopped!!) Check out this clip and try to argue with me that he’s my number 3:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sgeqrYxu_YM (Batista with the caahhhhtchhh!!!)

2) Kevin Harlan- Nothing brings back childhood memories like listening to Kevin Harlan’s melodious baritone call a game with such a suave debonair aura about him. AP for 3 was emphatically bellowed, and whenever Tom Gugliotta (my vote for person who would make the best celebrity “guido”) did anything, and I mean anything A googili-googili-oogili!! would be howled for all to hear. Seriously, I think mundane defensive rebounds were given this royal and raw treatment to everyone’s delight. There is no way that everytime Gugliotta was celebrated aloud by Kevin Harlan, an angel got its wings.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nc-DV-RB0mg Not a video of the greatest quality, but watch just to hear his voice, and weep that TNT ever stole him from FSN silently with me.


1) N Scott Momaday (Not actually a sports announcer, but back off its my list)
Complete Bauss. N Scott Momaday is a Native American poet, artist, and historian, and he has the greatest voice in the history of anything. I could listen to him say or do anything. Seriously, he could read every word of the wretched script to “XXX” and it would be absolute perfection. (Listening to N Scott Momaday read a Vin Diesel line just got added to my bucket list) When I rule the world, N Scott Momaday is going to read me a bed time story every night. Elongating words at the most perfect time, and having immaculate and unparalleled cadence.

This video really doesn’t do him justice, but rest assured, you will fall in love with his voice just as I have, and you will thank me. You’re welcome.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1v0zR_VvEco

BAMF

There's no place like less rock more talk for the holidays

At first, I thought the Giants were fools to rent AJ Pierzynski for perennial all-star closer Joe Nathan, the once cool Francisco Liriano, and Boof Bonser. But then I realized, they got rid of Boof Bonser, so they were the true winners. Seriously. His fastball is straighter than Brad Pitt in a strip club. (can that define straightness?? I mean if I were to make a crooked joke, I’d say Freddy Mercury at a Village people concert. Screw it, just think Brad Pitt in Fight Club... if that’s not straight I don’t know what is) Furthermore, the pitch always located with all the precision of a recovering meth addict with Parkinsons. I think if a sea lion mated with raccoon, and that offspring and a large turd produced a child, that child would be Boof Bonser.

Boof Bonser: I hate you. I’ve hated you since I first laid eyes upon you. I hate everything about you, your stupid face, your stupid name, the stupid red bulls you pound in incessantly with that “woe is me” look on your face. And now you are gone!!! (Cue up the stereotypical cinco de mayo celebratory trumpets… you know what I’m talking about people!) .

Can we just establish that this guys’ name is John, but wants to be called Boof. I know we’ve become desensitized to this being Twins fans over the years, but something is seriously not right about this. No one’s nickname should be Boof. Have fun with him Red Sox! Best of luck, and hope you like unmeasurable ERAs! (restraining….self…from…further…personal…attacks)

I apologize to anyone who has made one of these groups, and please prove me wrong- But I do not feel the whole If (unrealistic number) people join this group my (insert relationship to other person here) will (do something crazy/kick a bad habit/stop going on murderous rampages) is a reasonable way to attempt to do something crazy/kick a bad habit/stop going on murderous rampages.

*editors note- this blog does not condone murderous rampages regardless of the amount of people on facebook that support you not killing people without mercy. Please refrain from killing people no matter what happens on your profile on your social networking site of choice Thanks. *
If you want to quit smoking, quit smoking. If you can’t kick the habit on your own, elicit the support of your friends and family. I fail to see how the feigned support of 10,000 random strangers could persuade anyone to take some sort of action. This is reaching a “farmville/mobsters” zone of annoying aspects of facebook.

Facebook is a great way to keep with your friends, but let’s not make it into something it’s not with these annoying groups. Pretty please? K thanks

----These 2 guys support your quest to conquer mount Everest!! Only 39,998 people to go before you summon the courage to do so!

Also, when you google image search Boof Bonser, one of the results is Doug Funny. I don't know what this means. All I know is that I like it.

The Price is Wrong, Bob

If you go to a taping of the esteemed game show: The Price is Right, and you are the last person to bid, do not, bid 1 dollar less than the previous bidder. I beg of you. Years off of my life span are kissed goodbye every time this happens. Why even go to the show if you have no f@*ing clue what you are doing. You are the last bidder, you have the utmost control. You can hand pick a huge range of values, typically bidding 1 dollar over the highest bid is a safe bet if bids are reasonable, but 1 dollar under? This happened twice yesterday, followed by Drew giving a smirk that can only represent, “I can’t believe how stupid that college chick is, my 4 year old could have said a more reasonable number than you, maybe put down the jello shot and pick up a book”… (wow, I feel so much better now…deep breaths…deep breaths)

Will somebody please let David Kahn know he is not getting paid on a commission basis? I loved the Ramon Sessions signing but, cmon, all of these trades are a bit much. Perhaps he is trying to compensate for royally messing up the Rubio draft? You definitely go Rubio/Curry or Flynn/Curry, because those guards complement each other much more than Rubio/Flynn who both need the ball in their hands, running the offense, to be successful. This is why non-basketball people (a lawyer in this case) should not be GMs. They can handle the money aspect of being a GM, but have no clue about team chemistry, and how players can play together. Rubio didn’t sign because he did not want to split time with Flynn, as he would have been doing. They would not have been on the floor at the same time. (at least not successfully).

But, hey, he’s still infinity times better than McHale, so I will be patient and hopeful. (Q up Morgan Freeman “Shawshank” voice) I hope the pacific is as blue as it is in my dreams.. I hope.. I hope.

I would like to formally ask Rick Reilly to retire. He used to be an ok sports writer, not my favorite, but tolerable. He has managed to transform himself from a poor man’s Bill Simmons (in terms of wittiness) to a whiny moral compass on a soapbox who makes stupid analogies (Kurt Warner’s career has had more ups and downs than an Otis elevator!!) Dumb.
He goes on to call out Tiger Woods for his “tantrums,” using his public forum to show everyone how cool it is to suggest unreasonable things of people. Here is what was wrong with what he was saying:
1) Tiger Woods is a hyper-competitive person, which is why he is the best. So if he does something that makes him mad, he’s not just going to do nothing. He might throw a club, me might drop an f-bomb. Who cares? He is under immense pressure to win every tournament he enters, so yeah, he might be a little on edge sometimes.

2) Golf is, unto itself, a frustrating sport. Are you telling me, Rick Reilly, that you never get frustrated whacking that little golf ball all over the course? Before you publicly condemn Tiger, maybe take a look in the mirror, and at every golfer in the history of ever, before you yell at Tiger.
3) Tiger has been this way his whole career. He always sports his half frustrated, half pouty face after most shots. Get over it. He’s not going to change, despite your – I have nothing relevant to write about- article.

This person has caused me untold anguish

Fan Mail

As Less Rock More Talk picks up more and more readership across the country, I thought it would be appropriate to respond to some fan mail.

Does anyone look more out of place/hopelessly confused than I do right now?
-Stan V.G. from Orlando

Amnesiac: Hmm Yeah I would put you up there in my top 3 with Tom Cruise in “The Last Samurai” and Renee Zellweger ever.

Yo Amnesiac- What should Mike Vick do now that his prison sentence has been terminated? Love your stuff! - Arnold S from California

Amnesiac: Glad you asked. I just so happen to have several very shrewd suggestions for Mr. Vick:

1) Hire a local artist to do a remake of the infamous, “dogs playing poker” painting, with Vick casually playing cards, smoking a cigar, and laughing with his 4-legged friends. This would show how carefree and loveable he is to the public

2) Convince comic Jim Davis to draw Vick into the Garfield comic strip where he would help Odie exact revenge on Garfield for all of the wrongdoings in the cartoons 30+ years of print. These hilarious hijinks would help him secure the 8-14 demographic

3) Throw puppies out of a hot air balloon declaring “Puppies for all!” People would see how much he loves animals, and how he wants everyone to have animals. I see no flaws in this plan.

4) Re-release the movie “Marley and Me” with Vick playing the

vet that puts Marley to sleep at the end. Except, have “Dr. Vick” use a half nelson rather than the typical peaceful injection. He has to win back the WWF crowd somehow.

5) Also, make an “Air Bud 12” (I think they are on 12, I’m not even sure if the studio is counting anymore) where Air Bud does not play sports like the previous movies, but rather engages in fireside chats with Michael about life. They do this because Air Bud is dying and wants to get his message to the world. This emotional uplifting movie entitled “Wednesdays with Air Bud” is a virtual guarantee to start the waterworks with any audience.

Dear Amnesiac- What could possibly possess a man to attempt to steal 2nd with the bases loaded? I mean honestly?? - Logan B from Minnesota

Amnesiac: (no comment)

May Jottings

I’m already concerned about Percy Harvin. He did not show up to mini-camp (although this is now known to be because of hospitalization). He failed a drug test that he knew he would be getting at the combine. I know the Viqueens are thinking he slipped in a Randy Moss-esque way to them in the late first round, but I remain forever skeptical. The Sage-Harvin hook up may sound sexy in May but we will have to see come September. (Next season might be the end of me, my blood pressure will be reaching unhealthy levels) I now will continue by making a plea to the heavens—Please Percy… put the me myself and I show on hiatus, if you make the pro bowl, you can bring it back, you can even leave fungus on your shower shoes and the press will think you’re colorful!

I am all for facebook. It is a great social networking tool to stay current with friends. But I make this plea to every girl in America: Do not include “dance like no one is watching” anywhere on your profile page. This is quite possibly the more irritating and infuriating series of words in the English language. I have never met a girl that has actually followed this mantra. I know it is a very cool and awesome quote to show how carefree and lively you are, I get it. But please, stop. We will just assume that as a 18-24 year old girl, you in fact dance as though nobody is watching you, and play by nobody’s rules but your own, because you are only young once..blah blah etc.. There. It’s over.

Every time I see Matt Garza pitch, I see Delmon Young’s fat, “chipmunk storing nuts for the winter” cheeks laughing maniacally at me. I see him taking incredibly poor routes to fly balls, for a little leaguer. I see him swinging at balls that will later become wild pitches. I see all Devil Ray’s fans thanking me emphatically for allowing such a “trade”. (I am still calling them the Devil Ray’s, just try to stop me) I see bats being thrown into umpire’s chests. I see Twins GM Bill Smith half a handle deep into Captain Morgan, staring bleakly at a picture of Delmon Young, swearing and silently sobbing to himself.

A great man named Bill Simmons recently directed me to the trailer of quite possibly the most beautifully awful movie I have ever watched, and I only watched a 2 minute condensed version of the “plot”. Please click on this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCj8sPCWfUw

Your life will be for the better, and you and your social circle can have endless fun screaming “You’re tearing me apart Lisa!”

You’ll thank me later… No, thank me now.

Carl, Sage and Zoubek.

I love the classic Vikings response to an obvious problem. Ok, we basically lost our playoff game because we have an inexperienced quarterback who wilted under the pressure. So, let’s trade for… Sage Rosenfels! Oh we definitely need a 31 year old career backup with a 30/29 TD/Int split. Yes, that is the answer. This is like applying a band-aid when we really need a tourniquet. This is like saying we need an infielder…give me Nick Punto! We need a point guard…give me Seabass Telfair! (you get the idea) What stupid thing can the Vikings do next? My guess- Bringing back, this time team-sponsored “love boats” on Lake Minnetonka.

I was in Knudson at Concordia the other day, when I saw a dedication to a room in the form of a plaque. The room was apparently donated by Carl and Carla Wall. This got me thinking, has there ever been marriage between two people with sexually ambiguous names such as Alex and Alex, or Jordan and Jordan? I would assume so due to the sheer volume of marriages there have been. Wouldn’t that be strange? Would the woman keep the last name so that they would not have the exact same name? Think about it…

I would like to continue this post with a “march madness bracket lament.”

For all of you faithful readers, or people just with too much time on your hands, you will recall I proclaimed my 7-10 game picking wizardry, and my 8-9 game downfalls. This year, I got the Oklahoma St pick right, and that alone. I was 1-7 that is correct. I’m embarrassed. Furthermore, my subjective pick of Duke all the way blew up in my face immediately. I couldn’t help it.. I love Duke so. I was up nights rationalizing how they could win, dreaming up the scenarios of their championship run. I had Coach K’s victory speech all ready to go and pictures of Jon Scheyer and Super G hugging emotionally, but heterosexually, all thought out. Hell, even maybe Zoubek dancing like Mark Madsen did in the Lakers Parade. (see link below)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YpbXl5Sp-Wc

Side note- I would like to officially add Zoubek to the Mark Madsen list of “if cock blocks were a statistical category who’s fantasy draft stock would improve the most” list. – conversation with Super G-

-Henderson (shaking head) “Shit guys, its Zoubek, uhhh just play it cool, maybe he won’t see us… no he definitely sees us… shit”
- Zoubek “What’s up playas? We huntin’ some babes tonight?”
-Henderson (now shaking head more emphatically, looking around to Nolan Smith and co. for support)
“Yea totally Brian… we’ll… we’ll call you later” (scamper away frantically)
“K sweet guys, totally psyched!”

I am ashamed I picked a team to go all the way that has Brian Zoubek on its active roster… truly ashamed.

Jottings that I will in no way try to encompass with a title

I have always loved the movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, but it has recently come to my attention that the guy who played the principal in that movie was charged a while back with child porn charges in real life. Doesn’t this make the movie 10x better? You now have even more reason to root for Ferris. And doesn’t he just look like a pedophile? I think after watching the eerily easy to hate character he portrayed with his Ron Jeremy mustache, we all should have seen this coming…

Don’t you just love how A-Roid is having all of these problems? I know I do! I feel like he somehow deserves this for his pompous self-righteous attitude he has carried himself with his whole career. Or maybe he just parked in too many handicapped spots while laughing at poor people, I don’t know. Either way it’s nice to know he’ll be out for the year or at the very least, be in pain every time he swings. I know this sounds cold and callous, but I just realllllly hate A-Roid (this nickname is here to stay folks!)

Although I am excited for the end of the big inflatable toilet as the twins stadium, and the incoming Target Field, I can’t help thinking we are giving up around 5 wins a year in the home-field advantage we will be somewhat losing. I only hope and pray the new leadership with offset this with a more aggressive spending strategy with the new revenue Target Field should theoretically bring in, if there is any money left in the world to bring in at that time that is.

With selection Sunday so close I must announce this, look at all of my 8-9 matchups and pick the opposite. I have gone 0-8 for the last 2 years. Conversely I own the 7-10 matchup, 7-1 in the last 2 years. It is ridiculous how bipolar I am in this sense. No doubt this trend will continue this year, I will try to altruistically post my picks so you know the predestined outcome when I have filled out my bracket (I am so pumped!!)
Teams I think will go farther than you would expect:
Wake Forest, UCLA, Washington, Villinova
Teams I think will be out sooner than you would expect:
LSU, Marquette, Illinois

Edward Rooney- We should have known...

Thoughts from a Chaotic Mind

I am convinced that chapstick’s business model is predicated entirely upon consumer carelessness. Has anyone actually ever ran out of chapstick? They are making untold sums of money because their chapstick is so obnoxiously easy to lose.

Does anyone feel childish when saying the Lord’s Prayer in church? Why must it end in “forever and ever” I must say I prefer the “now and forever” ending tenfold. Really? We are going with forever and ever? Are we going to watch sesame street after the prayer too?

Why did the twins re-sign Nick Punto? Why???? Here is a career .250 hitter, with a 1.82/1 strikeout to walk ratio. Not only that, but he has 140 career RBI’s…Career! I am so upset I have to watch 2 more years of head-first dives into first I might cry.

So…who’s going to be the villain for the next Batman movie? Harvey Dent is dead, Heath Ledger is dead, and his performance as Joker is going to be impossible to follow. It cannot be said enough how awesome he was. Such a far cry from his usual work, he was the best villain in any movie, ever.

The cartoon “Ballard Street” is not funny. Every cartoon is a slap in the face to my intellect, and to every person that is exposed to this on a weekly basis in the Star Trib’s variety section. I think Jerry Van Amerongen kind of wants to be a cross between F Minus and The Far Side, but is a swing and a miss at every level. Please stop making cartoons Jerry. Please stop.

What?

7 Simple Rules for a Better America

Barack Obama ran a campaign on the principle of change. I, too have some changes that I believe need to be made to improve our great nation.

(Note: This picture will make sense to you in a bit, please help us try to find him a new home)

1) Regis Philbin gets a new game show every 4-6 weeks no questions asked. I can’t control the volume of my voice! Its gonna be huge! He is unequivocally the greatest host ever. He could make an episode of According to Jim watchable.

2) Gus Johnson gives the play by play of every major sporting event effective immediately. Once, when watching an NCAA tournament game last year, a white guy from Maine whom Gus affectionately dubbed the “White Lobster” hit a couple of threes, and Gus screeched, “The White Lobster….Is COOKIN’!!” I wanted to cry right there it was so beautiful. If you are still not convinced check out this quick youtube video of him calling the end of a Gonzaga game where he may or may not have needed a new lung shortly thereafter.

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

3) Public tarring and feathering will become commonplace again after everyone has so much fun watching Rosie O’Donnell get publicly humiliated by someone besides herself for a change. Also spontaneous “anti-redcoat” mobs will be formed to trick Dick Clark into thinking he’s a teenager again... Dick Clark is really old.

4) The guy that Dick Cheney shot in the face gets to have 1 “shoot Dick Cheney in the face” for free pass that he can use at any time. Afterwords, Dick must apologize to the shooter for being shot in the face, and promise that he, Dick Cheney, will not get shot in the face ever again.

5) Tom Delonge is banished to a Leper Colony for starting the unbearable band, Angels and Airwaves, and provided with the world’s biggest mirror so he can spend the rest of his days staring at what he believes to be God’s gift to this planet.

"I love myself so much it hurts sometimes!"

6) Any kid who plays basketball in jeans will be kicked off that team and his/her parents will lose custody of said child for allowing this to happen.

7) And finally, Mel Gibson is forced to celebrate Hanukkah every year. I would love to see the tension develop every day of celebration as his mind fills with anti-Semitic remarks directly beneath an awkwardly placed yarmulke.

I know the world would be a much better place with these simple rules being implemented.