Cajun Boy in the City

Mike the Tigers and the LSU Dance Team Present "Thriller"

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 21:25:00 +0000

Happy Halloween y'all!

Quit your bitching dangit!

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 02:09:00 +0000

Since I haven't had time to post much here of late and keep getting emails from people bitching about it, I figured I'd post some links to some recent blog posts I've done at Animal that I am fond of for one reason or another. Again, I am writing there daily....come visit!

The Curious Case of Troy Davis

On Longing for the Good Ole Days of Photography

Anatomy of a Gangbang Gone Wrong

Can Someone Please Put a Damn Muzzle on Rep. Alan Grayson?

Behold, the Most Horseshit "News" Story in the History of Journalism

Polanski Arrest Inspiring Dumb Celebrities to Make Even Bigger Fools of Themselves

Old Man Determined to Destroy the Internet by "Saving" It

Again, stop emailing to bitch at me for not blogging enough and come see me over at Animal!

Eat a big-ass bag of dicks Auburn!

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 04:11:00 +0000

This is what we down the bayou folk call the "Enjoy the long trip home to America's asshole you bunch of racist goat-fuckers" victory dance. You should have hired the black guy Auburn. You should have hired the fucking black guy!

Alabama and Tennessee don't like each other

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 19:48:00 +0000

Since they're playing each other right now, I felt that this gem was worthy of posting...

It's Not Always Sunny in Hollywood

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 14:07:00 +0000

If you’re a fan of It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia or just love a juicy Hollywood story, I highly suggest you take the time to read my friend Jordan Reid Berkow’s account of her being part of the original gang that created the show and her subsequent dismissal from it. Rachal Sklar has some background about it all on Mediaite, while Jordan’s full account can be read here on her blog.

Quote of the day

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 07:57:00 +0000

Has any team played an entire NFL season and never trailed?

The New Orleans Saints haven't so far, and I'm starting to wonder if they ever will in this seemingly karmic season.

After their shocking 48-27 rout of the Giants on Sunday, they are unbeaten, untied and unchallenged.

At 5-0, they are the Usain Bolts of the NFL. They bolt to the lead from the gate and leave their opponents gasping in the dust.

Sunday was the Saints' fifth wire job of the season. This time, though, they stepped up in class. This was against the New York Giants, not even two years removed from a Super Bowl triumph, who strutted into New Orleans with an unbeaten record and the league's top-rated defense.

And it wasn't close.

-Jeff Duncan

We Saints fans have been waiting our whole lives for this, and it feels so damn good.

10/15/09 Never Forget

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 19:16:00 +0000

(Via Best Roof Talk Ever)

"Too butch" for Gawker

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 06:30:00 +0000

As I mentioned here a couple of weeks ago, my stint at Gawker came to an end in late August and, after getting over some initial anger and having time to process my thoughts, I really didn't have any intention of discussing the whole thing publicly. In the weeks that have followed I've received a number of emails inquiring about my departure, wanting to know when and if I'm coming back to Gawker, why I wasn't there any longer, etc. Amazingly, I'm still getting a few of those each day, along with some wanting to know whether or not I, Cajun Boy, am actually Andrew Belonsky (I am most certainly not!), the guy who took my place as the night editor. And then today Gawker announced, in a rare post in which the comments were curiously disabled, that they were looking to hire two new night editors. This announcement inspired a handful of potential job-seekers to write to me to ask for my thoughts on the job. So, taking all of this in and feeling a bit frustrated by it all, I decided that perhaps it was time for me to say something about my stint at Gawker. That way, whenever anyone asks about it, I can just reply with a link and say, "Here, go read that." So I decided to take the lazy way out in doing this, naturally, by simply copying and pasting an exchange I had over a series of emails with an acquaintance of mine a couple of weeks after leaving Gawker. In its totality, it reads as a pretty thorough Q & A, I think. So anyway, if you're interested in such dreadfully boring horseshit, here ya go...

Why haven't you been writing Gawker at night for the last two weeks? Are you on vacation or something?

Well, um, no. There's really no other way to put this I guess...I was FIRED!

Whoa, what?????????? You've got to be kidding me.

Nope.

You're fucking with me. Why would they fire you? You have a distinctive voice and a following. Commenters seemed to like you a bunch. Me and the two girls in my office would always check Gawker first thing in the morning to read your posts. Your pageviews were through the roof! It seemed like every night you had at least one post that had tens of thousands of views. It doesn't make sense. Please tell me you're messing around.

Yeah, my traffic was great. If my memory serves me correct, I led all the other Gawker writers in pageviews in June and July, my first two full months, and was leading in August when I left. Those three months I think were also the most trafficked months in the site's history. But unfortunately, this isn't a fuckaround on my part. The reason for my being let go that I was given at my firing session, which was on the vaunted Gawker rooftop, was that my "tone" wasn't right for the direction Gabriel was taking the site. I was told that it was "too butch."

"Too butch"? What does that even mean? Fucking Denton!

No, actually, as far as I know, Denton had nothing to do with it. I rarely had any interaction with Nick but when I did he was always pleasant. As far as I know, this was all done by Gabriel Snyder, Gawker's managing editor. My calling Patrica Heaton a "staggering ass" in a headline was what he cited when he fired me as the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back in regards to my "tone" issues.

Gabriel blew a gasket because you called Heaton an ass? Was that in the post you wrote about when she went on jeopardy? She did make a "staggering ass" of herself!

It was actually Millionaire, but yeah, that's the post. The day after I was let go, I went back through my Gmail and found every editorial note I ever received from Gabriel. There were a total of four regarding "tone." The first was on May 27th...he told me to "tone down the fratty language" and cited a couple of things in the previous night's posts...I said that Kelly Bensimon was "annoying the shit out of people" in the Gossip Roundup and I sarcastically used the terms "big vagina liberals" and "little gay press packets" in another post. Then on June 1st I called Jesse Watters "Bill O'Reilly's buttboy" and received the following note in the morning...

"NO MORE PROFANITY OR VULGARITY. you're on probation. Jesse Watters is many things but "O'Reilly's buttboy" is not one of them."

So at that point I was put on "cursing probation" for using "buttboy" in a post, which was fine, I can write without cursing, but it was enormously frustrating to read the posts by other Gawker writers and see the word "fuck" or "fucking" and "asshole" etc. all over the damn place, even in headlines, while I was forbidden from doing the same! But still, I followed orders and was on my best behavior, but then on June 8th I slipped up and used the word "ballsiest"...yes, "ballsiest"... in a lede and got scolded for that. Apparently ballsiest is a curse word.

I didn't get another note on tone from Gabriel until June 17th, when we had one of the two face to face meetings I had with him during the time I worked there. It was at this meeting that he mentioned my "tone" being "too butch" for the first time. From there I didn't get another note on tone until July 27th when he emailed me my pageview targets for the new bonus system. Here's what he said...

"I think you've still got some big tone issues to work on editorially, but your traffic has been great and these numbers are well under what you've been generating."

Two days later I referred to a group of Hamptonites as "twatwaffles," and that really set him off. He fired off an email saying...

"Your voice is simply not working for Gawker. The conclusion I've close to making is that you're simply unable to make the change to a voice that fits the editorial style of the rest of the site."

After that, I didn't get another note about "tone" until he cited the Patricia Heaton "staggering ass" thing when he fired me.

I'm in shock. This doesn't make any sense. I read Gawker every day and I can honestly say that your tone was in no way that dramatically different than Nolan's or Pareene's, that's for sure. I can't make sense of this.

Imagine how I feel! I'm the guy in the middle of it trying to make sense of what happened. Honestly, I think there's more to it all. Let me start from the beginning...

When Ryan Tate left the night editor position to become the Valleywag guy, Gabriel and I talked about me taking the gig. He asked me to do a one week tryout kind of thing, so I did, and honestly kind of knocked it out of the park. So we met up the following Saturday and he asked me if I'd be willing to take the job on a week to week basis. I told him fuck no! "Shit or get off the pot" were my exact words I think. Who the hell wants to work under those conditions...not knowing if you'll have a job from week to week...especially when it's a night job where you kind of have to turn your life upside down in order to do it. So anyway, he then asked if I could do another tryout week. I was annoyed as hell, but agreed to it. The next Friday I go to the office to meet with him and he offers me the job. We shake on it and he tells me that he'd have a contract drawn up and that he'd get back to me the following week to set up a time for me to go in and sign my contract and all.

So weeks go by and I email him a couple of times to ask about the contract and also about getting assigned an @gawker.com email address and having my name put on the masthead. He never responded to any of those inquiries. So time passes and people start asking questions like, "Hey why aren't you on the masthead?" and I always responded by saying "I'm just seeing how long I can work there before they acknowledge me," and honestly it really wasn't that big of a deal to me. It became kind of a big joke honestly...everyone else seemed to care about my being on the masthead way more than I did. At one point one of the salespeople at Gawk asked if I'd like them to set me up with a Gawker email address and put my name on the masthead. I declined, repeating the old "I'm waiting to see..." line. Again, all I really cared about was doing my job and getting paid each month. Outside of that, I really didn't care about much else.

But then at some point in early June or late July, I can't recall when exactly, I woke up to an email from someone who works in the Gawker office who wrote to warn me that my time there was short and that Gabriel had no intention of keeping me, basically insinuating that there was someone else he wanted for the job and that I was just being used as a temp without being told that I was a temp.

Holy hell that's shady. SO SHADY! So do you think you were fired to make room for this Belonsky guy?

Well, I sort of did initially, because I just couldn't make sense of the whole not being on the masthead or getting a Gawker email thing, but after having some time to reflect on it I don't think that's the case. However, I don't think I was ever Gabriel's guy, the person he really wanted so to speak. I think he needed somebody and I came highly recommended by a bunch of people on the inside and I was available to do it, but I wasn't his guy, and that led to conflict. When he fired me, I asked him to explain why he never put my name on the masthead or gave me an email addy and his response was this: "That's because I had my doubts about you from the beginning." WELL WHY THE FUCK DID YOU HIRE ME, ASSHOLE?!?!?!

This guy sounds like the doucheiest douchebag in world history. Reading all of this frustrates the hell of me, so I can only imagine what it's like for you.

Gabriel's actually not a bad guy in person and outside of work. However, he's not a good manager of people. AT ALL. We had nothing resembling a nurturing editor/writer relationship. It was almost entirely adversarial. In the whole time I was there, I never received a single piece of positive feedback from him. NOT ONE. Not once did I get a note saying "good find" or "good take on that story" or "good headline"...NOTHING! Every editorial note I ever received from Gabriel was one pointing out something he thought I did wrong, and usually in an extremely harsh tone. I mean, REALLY prickish. I wasn't using em dashes properly, or he didn't like my point of view on something, or a headline I wrote was flat. Worse, he was often quite vague in what he wanted me to do to correct whatever it was he was pissed about. It was like he had no trouble expressing what he didn't like, but was incapable of expressing what he did like. Does that make sense? In person though, he's quite pleasant, even on the rare occasion when we met to talk shop and he'd just sit there pounding me, pointing out everything I did that he didn't like. But over email or IM he's a total asshole. He's one of those guys who grows huge balls when he's communicating electronically and says things in a way that he'd never say them if you were standing in front of him looking him in the eye. And look, I'm not one of those writers who needs his ego constantly stroked...quite the contrary...I take criticism pretty well and value it greatly when it's valid, but in order to grow as a writer, or in any profession really, you need to know what you're doing right just as much as you need to know what you're doing wrong, and Gabriel just never did that, even after I pointed it out to him that he was negative ALL THE TIME and virtually begged for some occasional semblance of positive feedback. It just never came.

Did he not even have anything positive to say after you broke that Mancow story? That's one of the biggest stories Gawker broke all year?

Ha! You know, that's a funny story! No, he never complimented me on it in any way, in fact, HE WANTED ME TO KILL IT! Here's how the whole thing happened...On the night of Weds. May 27th, I got my hands on a bunch of emails between Mancow's publicist and various other people his flack had contacted looking for some military guy to help Mancow fake a waterboarding for publicity. I was also tipped to the fact that Olbermann and his producers at MSNBC were privy to the fact that it was all a hoax and still rolled with the story and had Mancow on the show to talk about how horrible waterboarding is anyway because it fit Olbermann's political agenda. I contacted the publicist, who confirmed that the email chain I was forwarded was in fact completely authentic. So, in the middle of the night, I pieced this monster post together and then when I was done I thought, "This is kinda big...perhaps I should run this by Gabriel before posting it?" This was the only time I'd ever do that, mind you, but anyway...so I emailed him at about 7am saying "Hey I've got something kind of big, can you call me?" He emailed back asking me to forward him everything I have so he can look it over, and then he finally calls me at about 7:30 saying, "I don't understand what the story is here? So a radio shock jock faked a waterboarding a week ago, big deal!" Absolutely incredulous, I tell him..."But Gabriel, I think the bigger story here is that Olbermann and his producers knew about it all up front and they still had him on Countdown while pretending that everything was on the up and up." I then asked Gabe if he had any contacts at MSNBC I could email for a comment, as my emails overnight to email addys I'd found on the MSNBC website had produced nothing. You know what he said? "Nobody at MSNBC is going to return your emails...so just forget about it." So I go to bed but am just seething after waking up and processing everything and by the time my shift rolls around on Thursday night I'm just livid and pissed off and a million other things and finally I just said fuck it and posted the damn thing anyway at a little after 9 that night. By the next morning, the story is EVERYWHERE and then John Cook came in behind me and filled in some blanks and added some things to the story and the next thing you know Olbermann is on his show with Mancow, not even 24 hours after my post went up, devoting an entire segment to desperately trying to save his reputation by discrediting everyone at Gawker as being a bunch of full of shit assholes hell-bent on destroying him. The subject of my Mancow post was never spoken of even again. Gabriel never acknowledged it to me in any way. NOTHING!

Holy shitballs Batman! Worst boss you've ever had?

No, second worst boss I've ever had. But definitely the worst editor I've ever had. Ironically, the guy who takes first place in the worst boss category is the guy who nicknamed me "Cajun Boy." It was the first job I had in New York, a survival job if you will, working for this real estate guy who was the embodiment of every bad stereotype of Jewish people known to man, just a total arrogant little prick who thought he was the shit and tried to fuck everyone out of money. He refused to call me by my first name as a way of belittling me and/or putting me in my place, so he went around calling me "Cajun Boy." So when I decided to start a blog in 2007 and was faced with the "Do I want to use my real name or an internet handle?" decision, I went with "Cajun Boy," mainly because Katrina and Rita had just happened and I was homesick and really wanted to be identified with Louisiana. Plus I thought it was kinda funny. But no, Gabriel's wasn't as bad of a boss as THAT GUY, the one who wouldn't address me by my name, but he does get the silver medal.

Well man I'm sorry all this happened to you. You were really fucked hard. I'm sure something better will come of it, though it's going to suck not having you on Gawker to read in the mornings. What's the deal with the TV thing you had in development?

Oh don't feel bad for me...not at all. My life is already so much better now that I don't work there. Don't get me wrong, I was REALLY pissed for the first 24 hours or so, but then it became quite obvious that my life was going to improve by not working at Gawker. I mean, I had wheels in motion for news gigs within an hour of walking out of the Gawker office from being canned, and here it is two weeks later and I'm much happier. I was fucking miserable there! Looking back on it, I wanted to quit so bad after hearing that I might be being used as merely a temp and wasn't really being acknowledged as an employee, I thought about it every day, but didn't have the balls to do it. I was stressed out all the time, I wasn't sleeping properly, I'd wake up having nightmares about Gawker...it was just fucking awful. I was completely lacking motivation the last few weeks I was there. I just did what I needed to do and got the fuck out, sort of punching the clock I guess. I'm not saying I phoned it in, as my stupid pride would never allow me to that, and I still worked hard to pump out ten posts or so each night, but I was definitely lacking motivation. So Gabriel actually did me a favor by letting me go in a way. And the TV thing is dead btw. I've got other film/TV ideas that I need to get off my ass and work on eventually, but for now I'm blogging at Animal and am going to be writing a news/politics blog for Yahoo! that's launching later in the year. I have a voice in the national conversation, I'm happy, and that's all that really matters. But follow my Twitter because I usually update it with links to stuff I do and whatnot.

Tebow Gets Hit, The Movie

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 14:36:00 +0000

You had to know this was coming...

Quote of the day

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 03:40:00 +0000

Last week I said I keep waiting for him to call neither heads nor tails at the pregame coin toss and see the coin land on its side. This week I'm even more convinced this could happen.

Why?

His team scored on a 33-yard touchdown run with under 50 seconds to play. What's more, it was his second consecutive rushing play. It was second-and-five when they scored.

And it's not even like Charles Scott had been gouging Georgia all afternoon. At that point, Scott had 18 carries for 62 yards, an average of 3.4 yards per play. If the average carry happens on that play, the clock is running, and you're facing a third-and-two, with a field goal still in the neighborhood of 47 yards. What's the third down play then? I can't even fathom the thought process. But of course we didn't get there. LSU scored on a running play from 33 yards away.

Seriously, think about this, have you ever seen a trailing team score with under a minute to play on a running play from this distance?

I thought about this all day Sunday. I'm not sure it's ever happened before. Yet, when I saw it happen for LSU, I wasn't even surprised.

Meet Les Miles.

-Clay Travis desperately tries to wrap his brain around the enigma that is Les Miles.

Bobby Hebert Lost What Was Left of His Mind in the Dome on Sunday

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 22:26:00 +0000

This is amazing...

via Animal New York

Springsteen. Giants Stadium. Jersey.

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 19:12:00 +0000

Two years ago, I posted something on this here blog expressing bewilderment over the cult of Bruce Springsteen. In the course of doing so, I said some semi-mean things about Bruce, who I said "sounded and looked like a man desperately attempting to move his bowels during his performances," and his fans, who I called "the least attractive fanbase in the history of rock and roll."

What sparked my little rant at the time was a 60 Minutes segment on The Boss. I wrote:

What I don't get specifically is how this man and his music have developed such an widespread, evangelical following. In the 60 Minutes piece Scott Pelley, the correspondent who filed the report, described Springsteen concerts as "part circus, dance party, political rally and big tent revival." And from what I know about springsteen concerts, that seems to be pretty dead-on.

The "big tent revival" analogy was something that really resonated with me. I've seen video clips of Springsteen's concerts that reminded me of things I'd seen and heard about taking place in Pentecostal tent revivals in the South. Grown men crying, people running up and down dancing in the aisles, people dropping to their knees in quasi deity worship, etc.

These are not teenagers mind you. These are adults. Adults with mullets, incomplete dental profiles and ill-conceived fashion choices sure, but adults all the same (ed. note: it has long been my belief that springsteen's fanbase is the least attractive fanbase in the history of rock and roll. in a landslide!)

In response to my Springsteen skewering, a writer and friend named Mike Ryan (here's a recent interview with the director of Zombieland he did for Vanity Fair), wrote to me to take issue with what I'd written. He asked if I'd ever attended a Springsteen concert before, and when I said that I hadn't he insisted on taking me to one the next time Bruce played at Giants Stadium. Fast forward two years later and on Wednesday night I found myself in Jersey with Mike for a Springsteen show. In the pit no less, only a few feet from the stage. It was one of the best times I've ever had. Here are some photos I took there (click on the images to enlarge).

Outside the stadium, walking to the gate reserved for people with floor passes:

Mike and I were among the first ones in:

About an hour and a half later, the place was filled when Bruce walked onto the stage and yes, the crowd did go wild:

I'd be lying if I tried to say that even I wasn't a little starstruck:

At one point, during the third song I think, The Boss came down from the stage and walked around in the pit as he sang. It was pretty amazing:

Bruce handed the guy standing next to Mike and I his copy of the night's set list, which included the entire "Born to Run" album played in order:

This nice Jersey girl's name is Renee. She and I became friends at the show. Renee is tons of fun.

To the right and left of the stage were these giant HDTV's projecting images caught by at least a dozen TV cameras. I thought that this view from the back of stage looking out into the crowd was pretty damn cool:

As was this one of Bruce and Little Stevie Van Sandt, aka Silvio from The Sopranos:

At what was supposed to be the end of the encore, fireworks went off all around the stadium and the house lights went up. But Bruce and the E Street Band weren't done. They played at least 4 more songs after this:

Finally, after a 3 hour, 15 minute performance, Bruce said goodnight to us all:

And for the record, and I'm not just saying this because someone paid $100 for a ticket to take me to the show, I am now officially a Bruce Springsteen fan. I can't wait to see him perform again.

Who Dat!

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 17:49:00 +0000

For as long as I can remember, I’ve pulled for the Jets. They’ve always been my AFC team, probably because the Saints and Jets have been kindred spirits in failure for so long. Those days of misery appear to be over for fans of both teams, and even though on every other Sunday you can hear me in a bar screaming “J-E-T-S Jets Jets Jets!” in harmony with their diehard fans, I will be pulling for my beloved Saints to destroy their team in every possible way today.

Geaux Saints. Breesus saves!

Pic via Defend New Orleans

An overdue announcement

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 05:38:00 +0000

So, as you may have noticed, I'm no longer writing over at Gawker. Why that is a long story that I don't really feel like getting into and will only bore you to tears, but I'm writing/blogging regularly at Animal New York these days. In fact, I have been since exiting Gawker a month or so ago, but haven't made any sort of announcement over here because, well, I haven't really felt like talking about the whole thing to be honest with you. Anyway, many of you who read me regularly on this site emailed after I started at Gawker to say something along these lines: "Cajun, I love you, but your writing at Gawker just isn't the same." Well, yeah, I got that, but I had editorial guidelines to deal with there and had to alter my voice and subject matter accordingly. With that said, I think you'll enjoy Animal if you enjoyed my writings here as I'm given much more freedom there to just be little old me. So come on over! Here is something I wrote yesterday on Roman Polanski, something I also wrote yesterday about John Edwards, something I wrote about the BB gun terrorist terrorizing the Lower East Side, and the video of Duncan the racist baby I posted today. And please send me any tips or just say hi by emailing me at cajunboyinthecity at gmail dot com.

And oh, I'm also going to writing a new news/politics/entertainment blog that Yahoo! is launching soon, so I'll be all over the place. And now you know!!!

UPDATE: Naturally, I was unaware prior to posting this last night that Animal would be upgrading its servers today, causing some technical difficulties. Please bear with us if you're trying to click over there. Should be fixed soon.

Death Can't Keep Tim Tebow in the Ground

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 21:21:00 +0000

I was watching the Florida/Kentucky game in a bar with a bunch of Florida fans the other night. Never in my life have I felt the air suck out of a room like I did that night when Tim Tebow went down. With that said, behold this bit of evil genius from the man they call LSUFreek.

Breesus Saves

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 15:23:00 +0000

I've got on my Sunday best and am headed to my church to watch Breesus Christ perform the on-going miracle of leading the Saints to the Super Bowl.

For further proof that Bressus is indeed the King capable of leading our meek franchise to the promised land, watch this amazing video of Breesus being Breesus...

And oh yeah, fuck da Eagles!

The Trailer for Paris

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 18:17:00 +0000

I am so looking forward to seeing this, though I fear that it'll only stoke my overwhleming desire to live in Paris all the more...

Quote of the Day

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 19:45:00 +0000

You fucking people… you had to paint the broadcast from top to bottom with your annoying Jay Leno promos. Fuck you. No, I mean it. FUCK YOU. I'm really sorry that an entire football game had to interrupt your Jay Leno infomercial. Perhaps you could air the game on another network somewhere, one that isn't as cheaply run as your average fucking airline.

All goddamn night, I had to sit there and be bombarded with your fucking promos for a fucking show that no American under the age of 55 will ever deign to fucking watch. ZOMG! COMEDY AT 10PM?! UNHEARD OF! I've never watched comedy at that hour, ever! Unless I'm watching a movie that night. Or I'm watching South Park. Or I've recorded a comedy program that airs at another hour and decided to watch it at 10PM. Just to be a REBEL.

I've never done that, NBC. I've never known what it is like to laugh at that hour. I am not sure I'm biologically equipped to handle it. I'm so used to setting that hour aside to watch doctors fuck each other and then perform open-heart surgery at that hour. That hour is not meant for laughter. It is a dark, intense 60 minutes of each day. All I want to do at that hour is brood, and look over corpses for forensic traces of the Miniature Killer's calling card. Comedy? At 10PM? I DON'T KNOW IF I'M PREPARED FOR THE REVOLUTION.

- This morning I woke up to an email from Drew Magary telling me to fuck off for tweeting something about Mad Men before he’d had a chance to watch it. Thnakfully for me and the rest of the world, he’s now channeling his anger at NBC.

Meet Bailey Michelle, Cajun Girl

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 19:19:00 +0000

My future wife when I'm going through my Edwin Edwards dirty old man phase...

Thanks for the tip Simko!

All Hail Breesus Christ!

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 23:25:00 +0000

(via KSK/LSUFreek)

And how bout ULL's own Brandon Stokley?! This was unbelievable...I think Gus Johnson actually crapped his pants AND blew a load calling this one...

And So It Begins...

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 15:00:00 +0000

So I posted this on Deadspin yesterday, but of course I just have to post it here as well so I can continue to flaunt the fleur-de-lis tattoo I got on Friday, my first tattoo ever (And probably my only one as well.)! Anyway, it's no coincidence that this came just in time for week one of the NFL season, which kicks off a couple of hours from now. I feel so complete right now.

It almost doesn't seem real, does it? I mean, how long have all we football fans waited for this? Doesn't it seem like forever ago when the last seconds ran off the clock at the Super Bowl and we all headed home from our friend's party overflowing with satisfaction over the fact that the game was stellar in a way that Super Bowls rarely seem to be, yet it was a satisfaction marred by our also feeling overcome with an underlying sadness that came with the knowledge that it'd be months before we'd experience the passion of NFL football once again. And now, here we are, on the cusp so to speak, and really, if you're not on the verge of pissing all over yourself right now, well, you're not really a football fan.

According to the U.S. census bureau, the average life expectancy for an American alive today is somewhere between 74 and 75 years. With that said, it seems as though most true football fans fall in love with the sport at around 13 or 14 years of age, which means that over the course of our lifetimes -- presuming that we're lucky enough to live at least as long as the average American -- we get roughly 60 football seasons to enjoy as fans throughout the course of our lives. Now, many people will claim to have fallen in love with football at the age of 7 or 8, which they'll claim gives them a few extra years immersed in football fandom, but human beings aren't capable of true irrational passion until the onset of puberty, so let's stick with the 60 year/season estimate. With that said, today, opening day of an NFL season (Yeah, yeah there was a game on Thursday but everyone knows that this is really opening day!), is likely to be one of only 60 such days out of the 27,000 or so days we'll live on Earth. So savor this day my friends. Let that processed cheese dip swirl around in your mouth a little so you can appreciate the full spectrum of its flavors. Allow yourself to feel your entire body cooled off by the ice cold domestic light beer you wash it down with. But most of all, when your team does some spectacular or spectacularly awful, don't be afraid to let the tears flow, because that's what real fans do when they watch football, they cry. Or something.

Whatever, let's kickoff this mofo already! Geaux Saints!

Quote of the Day

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 20:32:00 +0000

You know, it took me about a year to start hating the 9/11 victims’ families. It took me about a year. Um, and I had such compassion for them and I really, you know, I wanted to help them, and I was behind — let’s give them money, let’s get them started, and all of this stuff. And I really didn’t — all the 3,000 victims’ families, I don’t hate all of them, I hate about, probably about ten of them. But when I see 9/11 victim family, you know, on television, or whatever, I’m just like, ‘Oh, shut up.’ I’m so sick of them. Because they’re always complaining. And we did our best for them.

-Glenn Beck, great American, on his lack of sympathy for the 9/11 victim's families. Never forget.

I'll be Writing Deadspin Tomorrow (Saturday)

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 17:15:00 +0000

So come over and watch me get my soul raped by the angry Deadspin commenting mob! I'll probably run all sorts of LSU and Saints smack talk, and may even unveil something new and exciting (I think!). So yeah, I'll be there all day tomorrow, well, up until about 6 actually, and then I'll be off to watch LSU and Vandy. So feel free to send me your sports tips (cajunboyinthecity at gmail dot com), preferably stories about athletes and sports personalities engaging in cheesedicky behavior! Geaux Tigers/Saints!

www.deadspin.com

Summer Memories

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 18:21:00 +0000

Hey did you know that summer is now officially OVER?! Well it is! Maybe people will stop dying all over the place now? Anyway, my friend Rachelle over at Guest of a Guest compiled the favorite memories from summer '09 of a few prominent people, so naturally she asked me for a contribution. Here's what I wrote:

Cajun Boy: About a block from my apartment there’s a fruit stand run by this guy, he’s Indian or Pakistani or something, I don’t know, I never asked, but anyway there’s this dark guy with a fruit stand near my apartment, and he calls me “boss” each and every time he sees me, even from across the street. He’ll often yell out things like:

“Hello there boss.”

“Isn’t today a beautiful day boss?”

“How was the gym today boss?”

“I saved some great strawberries for you boss.”

“You smell pretty today boss.” (Yes, he really told me this once, I swear.)

Now, some people might find such things unsettling, but personally I find his greetings, even the somewhat awkward commentary about him finding my man-scent pleasing to his olfactory senses, to be very soothing.

However, there’s one thing the dark, fruit stand-running foreigner does with regularity that never ceases to piss me the f@*% off: he’s a relentless upseller. For example, over a large portion of the summer, I’ve been on a blueberries and strawberries kick. Almost daily, I’d stop by the fruit stand to pick up a plastic container of both, but each time I’d stop by, the guy attempted to sell me something additional that I didn’t want.

Bananas. Grapes. Plums. Etc.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve nothing against any of these fruits, it’s just that I was on a hardcore blueberry/strawberry kick and didn’t want them at the time, but like a true jerkoff, I’d always cave and wind up buying the additional fruits out of guilt/cowardice. However, I really thought I’d draw a line in the sand and hold firm the day he tried to sell me peaches.

“I’ve got some great peaches today boss.”

“Oh…no, I really don’t care much for the peach.”

“But you will like these peaches boss.”

“No, really, you don’t understand, I. DON’T. EAT. PEACHES. Except when they’re cooked in a cobbler and smothered in vanilla bean ice cream. I’ll eat the shit out of that, but something about the fuzzy skin on a raw peach just freaks me out.”

“Well I’m going to give you a free sample and you will love them boss.”

“No, really, I just…”

“Boss, please take these as a gift. You will love them, I promise.”

And so it was that I trudged home that day with black plastic bag filled with blueberries, strawberries and peaches. Later that night, at roughly 3am-ish, after I’d exhausted my supply of other fruits and was still hungry for a tasty snack, I opened the fridge, eyed the peaches, said “aw what the hell” and decided to give the peach a chance. And guess what?! I LOVED IT! And now I eat peaches all the time. LIfe. Officially. Changed. Yaay summer!

The end.

Now go read them all!

Some Alabama Fans Can't Control Their Tempers

noreply@blogger.com (The Cajun Boy) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 15:14:00 +0000

Oh boy. Ricky really didn't like that call by the official...

via Deadspin