Thunder Matt's Saloon

Target: Making My Life a Living Hell

2009-11-20T17:01:00.008-06:00

I always used to like Target. I mean when I would compare it to it's evil nemesis, Walmart at least. I don't even shop at Walmart, absolutely refuse to*. But recently I have been rethinking all the good memories I've ever had about shopping at Target, and by good memories I mean that in the most abstract way a person who hates shopping can have about entering a store that is an acre full of mindless walkabout zombies.

Mashed potatoes, the most impossible thing to make since the scotch egg.

The scene is this: a couple weekends ago I decided to make mashed potatoes to accompany the Beef Bourguignon I was making for traditional gameday feast that we have when my friends and I get together for the Bears games on Sunday. Like most Americans, I prefer my mashed potatoes of the real variety. None of that boxed, dried, or Country Crock in-a-tub shit. Unlike most Americans though, I make my own mashed potatoes, which I was grossly unaware of when I went on my extremely long and frustrating journey to find a hand potato masher. You see, I don't own a mixer, like Rachael Ray I don't bake, and I also prefer my mashed potatoes to be a little lumpy. You know, some texture so that it doesn't taste like grandma's nursing home food.

I was sure the aisle with all the kitchen gadgets in the grocery store would have one, no problem I assumed. But you know what they say about people who assume don't you? So when the grocery store that I went to purchase the potatoes, butter, cream, cheese, bacon and scallions (I was making cheddar-bacon mashers) didn't have one I didn't fret. Surely the Target next to my house would have one, it's even one of those "Super" Targets. But like I was saying, you know what they say about people who make assumptions.

Like the record player and Brant Brown's happiness, this object is nearly perfect to find nowadays.

Fifteen minutes at staring into a 30 foot long aisle of every kitchen gadget ever known to man outside of the Bed, Bath and Beyond store later I felt like someone was playing a horrible joke on me. With only 30 minutes till the Bears game kickoff and all my friends on their way to my house, I was astounded that even though Target carried 10 "sandwich crust removers" (apparently knives are too difficult to operate nowadays), they didn't carry any potato mashers. Well, this just couldn't be right, I had to ask an employee if they were just out and had some in the back, even though the 2 empty rings were clearly not marked for potato mashers.

I know we throw the term around pretty loosely here at the Saloon, but I truly believe this to be a War Criminal: people that wear red shirts in Target. Why the fuck would you wear a red shirt in Target unless you are there specifically to fuck with me when I need to find something? I must have walked up to at least 3 different people before I realized they were just shoppers and not employees. And fuck Target for not handing out real uniforms. What, they can't afford them? Have you ever noticed that the employees get to pick their own red shirt to wear, and they usually pick one that is so common that fifteen customers in the store will also be wearing the same exact shirt at that moment?

Target employees: too young and fat to be strippers, for shame!

After FINALLY finding an actual employee I was told that they didn't have any and that they also thought it was strange that they didn't carry them. Fucking-a-right it's strange. But I guess it's just America today, too lazy to mash their own potatoes. Fortunately, the good people across the street at Walmart (like I said, I never shop at Walmart, but am reconsidering) had a potato masher, even if it was basically a 3" plastic circle with a couple holes punched into it that was attached to a handle flexible enough to be a Chinese gymnast. I might as well have used my hands to mash those potatoes. So my point is this, 'Merica, if you plan on mashing your own potatoes this Thanksgiving and don't have a masher or a mixer, make sure to reserve an hour of your day to travel to Bed, Bath and Beyond to get a real, old-school metal masher. Enjoy your fucking potatoes!

Person of Interest: Guy On a Bike at Night

2009-11-19T07:00:00.002-06:00

Hey you. Yeah, jackass with the skinny jeans, unkempt beard and thrift store t-shirt. Yeah you, asshole. Riding your bike at night? Not cool. Riding without any sort of reflectors or lights? Well, all I can say is that you deserve whats coming to you, be it an accidental run in with a rogue car door or me purposely running you off the road into the storefront window of a record store that you probably work at part time.

Listen, I love a good bike ride, I really do. Get some fresh air, get the blood flowing, see the beautiful sights of Chicago. It's economical, it's good for your body and it helps clear the mind. But for the love of Lance Armstrong's one remaining testicle, just stop with the reckless night time bike riding. Given the fact that the majority of most roadways don't have dedicated bike lanes and the streets here are skinner than your emo-stunted cock make this practice even more absurd.

If you want to do some organized late ride, that's cool. But when I see you run a stop sign, hog the lane or flippantly dismiss the rules of the road, I can't help but want to see bodily harm come to you. At the very least, I'd like to go to your house, drink all of your PBR, switch all of your radio presets to HOT A/C, superglue the pages of your graphic novels and show your girlfriend how a real man makes love.

I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings (no I'm not). You can always take solace in the fact that Death Cab for Cutie are still releasing albums and no one has touched your soy milk that's been sitting in the work fridge for a solid 6 weeks. Better hop on the ole' 12 speed and head over to Jewel at midnight to replace that shit and buy a pack of Lucky Strikes. Just know that I'll be in my car....watching....waiting...

Trash I Saw On Lifetime: Cyber Seduction

2009-11-17T07:00:00.002-06:00

I'm a fan of the old exploitation movies; the kind of movies about a scandalous or hot-button issue filmed on a shoe-string budget and rushed to drive-ins & decaying grindhouse theaters to turn a quick profit while the subject was still relevant. And while this sort of movie doesn't often get made for theatrical release anymore, they're still being made for television. Lifetime's original movies are a goldmine for trash movie aficionados. Case in point: Cyber Seduction: His Secret Life...

Justin has a mediocre but stable life. He's a good student and the star of his high school's swim team. His swimming prowess has begun to make him popular with the cool kids. He has an attractive but prudish girlfriend, a mother prone to overreacting, a passive father, and an impressionable younger brother. But Justin's entire life collapses like a house of cards when he innocently clicks on a link to a porn site sent to him by his friend.

At that very moment, Justin becomes obsessed with internet pornography. And energy drinks. But, oddly enough, NOT masturbation. Apparently, Justin succeeded where I failed; in replacing jacking off with Rock Star. If the kid would have just rubbed one out, his entire life would still be fine. Justin didn't...

The energy drinks keep Justin awake late one night, and while looking at what passes for internet porn on Lifetime, his mother barges into his room to see why he isn't asleep. He quickly tries to turn off the computer, but his mother saw the vaguely lurid images. She attempts to go back to bed, but she's just too shaken up over the whole thing, so she decides to wake up her husband in the middle of the night and demand he talk to Justin about the evils of pornography. He tells her that Justin is a normal boy, but that only angers his cunt of a wife, so he has to promise to give Justin a vague lecture later so his nagging wife will let him sleep.

The next day, Justin's life starts its downward spiral when he underperforms at swimming practice. To make it worse, Justin begins to notice that high school girls dress like sluts. And he likes it! In just two days, internet porn causes Justin to objectify every woman he sees. His father's halfhearted lecture doesn't help matters, and Justin's appetite for porn and Red Bull grows.

A day or two later, Justin is viewing more porn when his younger brother busts him and insists that he get to look at the porno or he'll tell mom. Jesus Christ, Justin! Lock your fucking door already. Justin reluctantly obliges and it fries his little bro's brain! But Justin just can't stop showing porn to others; it's the nature of the beast!

Soon after ruining his brother's life, Justin is hanging out at Timmy's house. Timmy is the guy who got Justin hooked on the hard stuff by sending him the link at the beginning of the movie. Instead of playing more video games, Justin suggests they look up porn and pulls up some latex fetish site that looked more like an ad to a performance art showcase than hardcore pornography. But it's apparently too much for Timmy, who isn't cool with this "twisted" stuff, and Justin leaves.

In the safety of his own room, Justin visits the webcam site of the local high school slut/porn star and begins chatting with her while drinking an obscene amount of Red Bull. He tells her how "Amaaaaazing" she is. Can Justin really be considering having sex with the easy hot chick instead of waiting for his wholesome girlfriend's vagina to defrost?

If this brief synopsis of the first half of the movie sounds a bit over the top, it's got NOTHING on the second half of the movie. Some highlights of the rest include:

• Justin being ostracized by his peers.

• The Virgin Vaginas!

• Justin getting suspended from school.

• Justin's mom seeking the guidance of a friend whose "marriage was destroyed because of internet pornography."

• Justin seeking out sleazy back rooms in the bad part of town to get his porn fix.

• A vicious beating.

• And one of the most inexplicable scenes in the history of motion pictures, which can only be hinted at with this picture...

None of those spoilers can detract from the glorious train wreck that is Cyber Seduction: His Secret Life. Although Lifetime touted this movie as a provocative depiction of a modern social ill, it's got the accuracy and sensibility of Reefer Madness. The director is the same guy who directed Friday the 13th Part VI. He also directed the equally absurd Lifetime classic, She's Too Young, about the freshman class blowjob syphilis outbreak.

Probably because Lifetime doesn't want us watching their movies ironically, Cyber Seduction is not available on DVD. You might be able to download it somewhere, or you can watch the movie in installments on YouTube. If you're lucky enough to get Lifetime or the Lifetime Movie Network, you can always check their listings (it isn't scheduled to air again this month). This movie must be viewed in groups, and it doesn't hurt to have a few drinks handy.

Brant's Rant

2009-11-16T06:40:00.003-06:00

NFL 'hang time' clocks:
What in the hell is the point of showing the 'hang time' of a punt in digital format on an NFL broadcast. The point of a punt is to pin the receiving team as deep into their own territory as possible. Why in God's name would I care if it takes that punt 4.9 or 4.3 seconds to land? How much money went into creating that graphic on each broadcast. Better yet, how many wasted dollars are going to some chump in a truck starting and stopping that fucking clock? Yes, these are hard economic times, but that ass hat would serve us a lot better if he were washing our cars or serving our drinks.

The term 'bogo':
If you're not hip to it yet, the term 'bogo' stands for 'buy one get one'. It is often associated with shitty restaurants and second-rate merchandisers. If you're like me, you often hear 'bogo' at your place of work, possibly in the form of a mass e-mail sent throughout the office by an overweight post-menopausal woman, with a coupon attached. You know what bitch? I don't give a shit if Souplantation has a buy one meal, get one half off promotion. Take your fat ass and barren womb over to that shithole buffet with one of the other hags and eat clam chowder until you have a fucking coronary. Please. Just don't bother me with your cost-savings nonsense, I don't give two shits about your frivolity. I feel so sorry for your husband, who likely lost his will to live 20 years ago. I shit on your 'bogo'.

Kids playing stickball in the street and their ignorant parents:
I'm all about our nation's youth getting exercise, being outdoors, using their imaginations and such. But for Christ's sake, don't play stickball on the street that's full of parked cars! How stupid can you be? My car was parked in my own goddamn driveway and you hit it twice you pieces of shit! If you're going to knock a projectile, go down four blocks to the fucking park! How is that not clear? Do you not have parents? Are they unaware that it's their designated weekend to be responsible for you? If they were worth their salt, they wouldn't allow you to play ball in the street and destroy other people's property. Or perhaps they're too busy smoking drugs or cheating on their spouses, and are just glad that you're not in the house to witness their various indiscretions. Either way, here's to hoping that you mature quickly enough to not knock up some girl before you graduate high school.

Overrated: international friendlies; Tim McGraw; USC football; Bill Belichick's ego
Underrated: the Bengals being good; the word 'cocksure'; Colts vs. Patriots

Ha Ha, Look at You!

2009-11-15T23:05:00.004-06:00

Wow. Just wow. Up by 6 with less than two minutes to play and you elect to go for it on 4th and 2 on your own 28? You don't make it, Peyton gets the ball on the 25....ballgame. The Evil Genius costs his team the game and home field advantage in the playoffs in one fell swoop.

I honestly can't recall a more irresponsible coaching decision in all of my grizzled, slightly homosexual days, especially in such a crunch time spot. A lesser coach would be fired. If he were a soccer coach, he'd likely be murdered. (No joke)

As The Hundley aptly stated, 'Ego is a bitch'. Guess that sleeveless hoodie/cum towel is gonna be used to dry the tears of New England tonight Billy Boy!

Bill Belichick: This couldn't have happened to a bigger asshole. Love it!

Holy Christ, Please Trade for Granderson

2009-11-12T11:40:00.005-06:00

Word in the rumor mill (thanks MLB TradeRumors, Paul Sullivan, Jon Heyman, etc.!) is that the Tigers may be willing to listen to offers for Curtis Granderson. Unless God hates us all, the Cubs are sure to at least kick the tires. How often can you kill two birds with one stone (leadoff hitter and lefty pop) in these times of economic hardship?

Oh, we would bring up the economics of it all, wouldn't we! Granderson's contract has him due for $25.75 million over the next three years. That's nothing for the Ricketts, who have said that they intend to keep the Cubs among the top three spenders in baseball. You have to spend money to make money, right? I think Jesus said that. Check the Bible. He's in the New Testament part.

Surely Hendry would be required to move Uncle Milton first, eating the better part of his $21 million. They'll certainly have to absorb another bad contract in that move, which the Tigers wouldn't want. That probably leaves the Cubs in a position where they would be forced to cough up a slew of youngsters. Hopefully that would start with Jake Fox (future DH extraordinaire) and the mythical Starlin Castro. I'd like to see them move Samardzija (completely overrated), but again, we would have to eat some cash. The bottom line is that it could be done, and it would be much more satisfying than going into next season having only brought in Luis Castillo and Marlon Byrd.

Would Granderson cure all our ails? Probably not, but he's the one piece that would fit best. Sure he strikes out a lot, but at least those strikes are swinging, as opposed to Bradley who never lifted the bat off his shoulder. He doesn't really hit lefties worth a lick, but you can spell him on occasion if you retain Reed Johnson. And maybe Granderson doesn't steal as much as you would like, but he's certainly more of a threat to steal a base than anyone else on the roster (we're looking at you Crazy Legs Soriano). Plus, by Dusty Baker logic, Curtis should be able to handle all the hot afternoon games better than someone like Pat Burrell.

Granderson is an Illinois boy and a seemingly all-around good guy. You know, the kind that you might want in a clubhouse. Yep, it might hurt the back pocket, and it will further thin out an incredibly thin farm system. But the Ricketts need to make their mark. Let's do this thing! We can worry about the consequences after the 2010 playoffs.

Update: If the Cubs were to actually acquire Granderson, we have dibs on being the official Curtis Granderson Cubs blog. Perhaps that would entail a name change. Thunder Granderson's Saloon? Lightning Curtis's Saloon? Something like that.

A Tale of Two Giant Assholes: Time Warner vs The NFL Network

2009-11-12T07:00:00.009-06:00

Tonight, the Bears take on the San Francisco 49ers. Even though my cable bill is about $140 a month for T.V., phone & internet, I won't be able to see the game. You see, I have Time Warner Cable.

Time Warner Cable & The NFL Network have been fighting over the cost & availability of the NFL Network since 2006.

Time Warner claims that the NFL Network wants them to charge subscribers an extra $0.61 per month to carry the channel on their digital basic programming. Apparently they are unwilling to do this, since the demand for the NFL Network is seasonal. How nice! Time Warner is looking out for my best interests for a change! The selfless souls at Time Warner refused this offer; however, they would allow the NFL Network to be carried on their Digital Sports Tier, for which I believe they charge an additional $9.99 a month (I tried to get the exact price off Time Warner's website, but an error occurred when I attempted this!). The NFL isn't so sure people would pay an extra $120 per year for their network & a bunch of soccer channels, so they refused.

Full disclosure: my soul burns with a fiery hate for Time Warner Cable . They charge a ridiculous amount of money for very little programming & their tech support and overall quality are abysmal. A couple years back, I waited nearly two weeks to have my services reconnected because, unbeknownst to me, some asshole unplugged my cable line from the box in the alley behind my apartment building. Time Warner claimed they sent somebody to check out the connection to my building, and they couldn't find anything wrong. Taking them at their word, I tried to get a technician sent to service the cable in my apartment, but they were "booked solid." It was only when I told them I wanted my service canceled and a refund given that they finally sent a surly Russian guy to fix the problem. It took Viktor all of 45 seconds to remedy the problem. I got a $60 refund, missed a day of work, and might have gotten herpes from the payphone on Alvarado Street that I used to call them. If I had any other options for high speed internet in my area, I would drop these fucking clowns in a second and get DirecTV.

However, as much as it pains me to say this, I can't put all the blame on Time Warner. I love the NFL, but I have no use for their network outside of the 8 regular season games they have the exclusive rights to. Am I really going to watch a 3 hour long "classic" game once pitchers & catchers report? Or listen to their 3rd rate commentators talking about next week's matchups? Fuck no; I have two ESPN channels for that shit. And they're right; I wouldn't pay an extra $10 a month for the Time Warner sports tier when I'd only use it a couple times per season. But isn't their main objective to get as many viewers as possible so they can charge more for advertising? Morons.

At $0.61 cents per month for the NFL Network, I'd end up paying Time Warner a whopping $7.32 extra per year for the NFL Network. Shit, I'd gladly pay $5 just to watch the Bears game! And I'm sure I'd be willing to shell out the remaining $2.32 over the course of the remaining 7 games. Why don't they make the games pay per view? Aside from the Bears vs. the 49ers, I'd probably purchase their exclusive Thanksgiving game just to alleviate boredom of that wretched holiday.

Once a cheaper high-speed internet option becomes available in my area, I'm dropping Time Warner Cable. The $7.32 per customer every year they'd be paying the NFL Network is nothing compared to the $1600+ they currently get from me yearly. But I'm not letting the NFL off the hook. This league makes a shit-ton of money and can afford to give away their network that's useless 357 days out of the year. Until this shit is settled, I'm going to attempt to find a pirate website that streams the NFL Network games, thus screwing mega-corporations out of my money.

Let's Make a (Bradley) Deal!

2009-11-10T22:37:00.005-06:00

As has been documented on numerous occasions at TMS, other Cubs blogs, sports talk radio, and basically any every modern media platform, we are tired of Milton Bradley, and wish the saga would end. With any luck, Jim Hendry can work some magic (and take on an equally bad contract) this week at the GM meetings. To have to go into January, or God forbid Spring Training knowing that Bradley is still on the club would just be a tad bit ridiculous.

Now, we also tend to overstate things as sports fans. Many of us use the term "we" when referring to our team's performance on the field. Milton Bradley does not know us personally. He will never go to your home or have a beer with you. He doesn't necessarily care about you, and off the field, you likely do not care about him. He is a player on the team you have chosen to follow; nothing more, nothing less. Milton is a real human, he has feelings, he cares passionately about his performance. If he didn't, he would just be Adam Dunn. Milton wanted this to work out, and we wanted Milton to work out. Unfortunately, neither happened, and we all know it is time to move on.

So, who would you rather have for the next two years in place Bradley? Who would you rather open your heart to? Who would you rather bunk with? Who would you rather invite on a fishing trip or to a strip club? Aaron Rowand? Really? Luis Castillo? Vernon Wells? Barry Zito? Pat Burrell? Are any of those options that much more attractive? Ugh. Better yet, what would you rather have than Bradley? Assuming the money washed out in the end, would you trade him for proper urinals instead of troughs? What if it meant Dave Otto replaced Bob Brenley? Would you do it then? What if you could get rid of Bradley, but you had to start going to Church every Sunday? What if you could be free of Bradley, but it meant that you would have to go through a bout of chlamydia? What will this freedom be worth? Feel free to post what you'd be willing to sacrifice or take on in lieu of Milton Bradley.

War Hero: Tony Bennett

2009-11-10T06:00:00.002-06:00

We often throw the term 'War Hero' around loosely at the Saloon. Today we assign that designation to one of the great crooners of our time, who just so happens to have truly earned it.

Anthony Dominick Benedetto was born in New York City in 1926. Tony's talents in painting and singing were apparent at an early age, earning him enrollment at New York's High School of Industrial Art. At the age of 18, he was drafted into the United States Army, where he served as an infantry rifleman. Bennett was stationed in France and Germany during the waning days of World War II. He would later describe the horrors of war in his autobiography, including the struggles brought on by the harsh winter landscape, and the experience of house-to-house combat while driving back German soldiers. When the war ended, he remained in Germany for a period of time, assisting in the liberation of a Nazi concentration camp.

When Bennett returned to the States, he picked up on his vocal training. He opened for Pearl Bailey in Greenwich Village in 1949, where he was spotted by Bob Hope. This was the break Tony needed, as he was soon after signed to Columbia Records. A string of chart-topping hits would follow throughout the 1950's, including two standout albums in which Bennett collaborated with the Count Basie Orchestra. "I Left My Heart in San Francisco", widely recognized as Bennett's most popular song, drew acclaim after it's 1962 release.

In the mid-1960's the musical landscape began to change, and Bennett found it increasingly difficult to wade these new waters. He went to great lengths in an attempt to change his professional fortunes over the next 15 years. A failed record label, a relocation to London, and a near-fatal overdose brought Tony face-to-face with the 1980's and some hard choices. He brought his two sons into the fold in a last-ditch effort to rehabilitate his career. Gone were the residences in Las Vegas; in was a new deal with Columbia, and the embracing of popular culture.

The youth of America, weened on rock 'n' roll, had until this point been relatively oblivious to the standards genre. An appearance at the MTV Video Music Awards, along with an MTV Unplugged recording, endeared Bennett to this new audience. The record that resulted from his Unplugged session went on to earn him an Album of the Year Grammy, and went a long way in rejuvenating his career.

Aside from being known as one of the great male vocalists of the past century, Bennett has delved into other passions. He was an active member of the Civil Rights Movement, participating in the 1965 Selma to Montgomery marches. In the same vein, he would refuse offers to perform in apartheid South Africa.

Perhaps what he would prefer to best be known for, however, is his painting. His works are featured in numerous galleries throughout the world. He was the official artist for the 2001 Kentucky Derby, and was commissioned by the UN for two paintings. The UN would go on to honor him with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees' Humanitarian Award in 2006.

In total, Bennett has won 15 Grammy Awards and two Emmys. These, however, are mere symbols of the greater work that he will one day leave us with. Tony Bennett, the vocalist, entertainer, human rights activist, soldier, and multi-talented artist, is a true American treasure. Most of all, he is a legitimate War Hero, of the caliber that only Thunder Matt's Saloon can properly recognize.

*Biographical facts were largely culled from Wikipedia. We can trust that thing now, right?

Steven Tyler Quits Aerosmith?

2009-11-09T12:20:00.004-06:00

Word on the Internets is that Steven Tyler has, for all intents and purposes, left the band Aerosmith. Lead guitarist Joe Perry has alluded to this in recent interviews, though he admits that it is not out of the ordinary for Tyler to go incommunicado for lengths of time.

If it is indeed true that Tyler has given up his post as the frontman for one of America's most iconic rock 'n' roll bands, Perry says they will seek a new lead singer and new direction. However, it would be a daunting task to replace the flamboyance and showmanship of Tyler. It likely could not be done, thus making it difficult to promote an Aerosmith tour at $75 per ticket. If he is replaced, the more likely scenario is a downshift in ambition, and a prominent place on the state fair circuit next summer.

In my more impressionable days, I held Aerosmith in incredibly high regard. They were my first exposure to good old-fashioned dirty rock music. Unfortunately, they've been largely irrelevant over the last decade. Such is life, especially when you've been going at it for nearly 40 years. Aerosmith has certainly overcome adversity in the past, but if Tyler is truly gone, the rest of the boys will be facing a steep uphill battle.

Happy Berlin Wall Day!

2009-11-09T09:36:00.008-06:00

The Iowa Hawkeyes Finally Lose

2009-11-07T20:34:00.003-06:00

Doesn't the James Vandenberg Era look exciting?!?!

The Team With Jerry Hairston Jr Won

2009-11-04T22:42:00.002-06:00

"Good game Jerry."

"Thanks man. You too."

John Grabow......Why?

2009-11-04T08:22:00.006-06:00

According to Bruce Levine on ESPN 1000, the Cubs are working on signing lefty reliever John Grabow to a multi-year deal worth between $6.5 million and $7.5 million.

Agent Paul Kinzer represents Grabow, who would be the team's left-handed set-up man and a possible back-up closer in the event Carlos Marmol is injured or needs a day off.

Jesus, really? Grabow as our set-up guy? Grabow closing games? Maybe I'm missing something here but at no point last season when I watched Grabow did his pitching knock my dick in the dirt. Fine, I realize we need a lefty in the pen, but keep Grabow away from the eighth and ninth innings if at all possible. Wouldn't a set-up/closer combo of Angel Guzman and Carlos Marmol make more sense?

Ugh, we'll see how this goes but Grabow is my front-runner for the 2010 Glendon Rusch Award, given each year to the Cubs southpaw reliever that completely implodes on them. Here's a quick look at past winners.

2009: Neal Cotts
2008: Scott Eyre
2007: Will Ohman
2006: Glendon Rusch

So once they get Grabow locked up, how about figuring out that second base situation? Maybe sign someone that isn't a hobbit?

Away to the shire Treebeard!

The TMS Booze Project Guide to Hangover Prevention & Cures

2009-11-02T07:00:00.002-06:00

Hangovers...proof that there is a God, and he hates fun. The only foolproof way to prevent a hangover is to not drink in the first place. But "abstinence only" approaches are hardly realistic, and certainly aren't enjoyable.

There are thousands of folk remedies out there. Some work better than others, and some will just aggravate the condition. No single "cure" is going to completely wipe out your hangover, but there are many things that can lessen the symptoms enough so that you can be a productive & functional member of society the next day.

Try to prevent the impending hangover while you're still drinking. Stay hydrated while drinking and keep chugging water long after you had your last adult beverage. Also, if you can put off passing out, try to stay awake for an hour or two after your last drink. Drunk-Sleep isn't real sleep anyway, so if you can wait out the effects of alcohol, you'll get better rest even if you don't get as much.

Vomiting - Sometimes you can't help but throw up during a night of heavy drinking. However, if you know you've drank way too much, but not enough to vomit involuntarily, I suggest trying to induce it yourself. Hover over the toilet, think about dog turds, and let go of your stomach's contents. If you manage to throw up, you might be able to avoid a hangover entirely. At the very least, you won't feel as bad the next morning.

Chaser - Chaser doesn't claim to cure hangovers, but rather prevent them from happening in the first place. I've tried these little red pills on a few occasions and they actually work. The activated charcoal in Chaser absorbs the toxins in alcohol. Chaser will prevent the blinding headaches and mental fog, but it doesn't do anything for queasiness, fatigue or dehydration. The major drawback to Chaser is that you have to take them before you start drinking and follow up with more pills while you binge. During the height of drunken revelry, it's easy to forget to pop a magic pill.

Black Coffee - This much-touted cure is actually one of the worst things you can do to treat a hangover. Coffee is a diuretic, which means you'll feel more dehydrated in the long run. If you're queasy, coffee is only going to aggravate your stomach.

Painkillers - Aspirin, Tylenol, Advil, etc. are all bad choices. Although it might seem like a good idea to medicate your headache away, pills will do more damage to your liver & stomach. You've got enough to worry about without internal stomach bleeding or liver failure.

Sports drinks - Gatorade & Powerade contain too much sugar. Instead, opt for the low-calorie versions. Your best bet is actually Pedialyte, the stuff they give to children with diarrhea. It takes care of three of the worst symptoms of hangovers: dehydration, vitamin deficiency and lowered blood sugar.

Greasy Food - Food is essential for dealing with a bad hangover, and nothing works better than terribly unhealthy food. Pizza works fine, and there's often leftovers if you drank with a group of people the night before. Personally, I've had the best luck with greasy burritos from a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant in Los Angeles. The greasy food remedy is one of trial & error. Try experimenting and eventually you'll find the one that works best for you.

Bloody Mary - I've never tried any of the "hair of the dog" remedies myself, but I know a few people who swear by a Bloody Mary the morning after. Nobody seems to be able to adequately explain why adding more alcohol helps a hangover, but the Bloody Mary proponents can't all be wrong. The fruit juice contains hangover-fighting nutrients & fructose, both of which will help you feel better. Still, the day after drinking heavily, alcohol is the last thing I want to put into my body, followed closely by tomato juice. Be careful; you don't want to reek of alcohol when you finally stagger into work.

Trail Mix - I've discovered that a $1.50 bag of trail mix from 7 Eleven is one of the best hangover cures available. I don't claim to know why it works, but it does. Get the kind with nuts, raisins & chocolate and slowly snack away the effects of last night.

Wolter's Random Braindump, Vol 40

2009-10-29T11:00:00.006-05:00

Some assorted thoughts on this fine Thursday:

Through a combination of extremely bad planning and wretched tiredness, I missed the World Series opener. However, I guessed the outcome solely by noticing the lack of psychotically pro-Yankee facebook status updates from friends of mine who have no business rooting for that team. Nobody's louder than a Yankees fan when they win, and nobody changes the subject faster than a Yankees fan when they lose. I'm hoping for a sweep.

On that note, while I think it's good for the Series to have a villain, there is nothing I want more than for the Cubs to have more 21st century WS wins than the Yankees. Anyone who wishes otherwise is insane at best, and at worst, a traitor to the human race.

I haven't done any sophisticated analysis on the TMS 2009 baseball predictions, but I believe this entry wins the award for Most Completely Correct Prediction in History.

"The 97 mph fastball was long gone, the aura and mystique had faded, and he was fighting to prove his ability to merely contribute. The former Cy Young ace was now a conjurer, a Merlin of the mound, hoping his knowledge, guile, and a little bit of smoke and mirrors was enough to make it back to the Show.

"Sadly, I don't think it was."

"The box score will say Pedro didn't do that badly, giving up one hit, hitting a batter, and striking out one. But great change-up aside, I'd say his tank is empty."

"... I wouldn't be surprised if Sunday was the last day of Pedro Martinez's brilliant baseball career."

This is the exact sort of predictive skill one would expect from a writer for a blog named after future Hall of Famer Matthew Henry Murton.

Sadly, it looks like I'm missing tonight's game due to a prior engagement, but I really hope Pedro sticks it to the Yankees all over again. It would be so very, very sweet.

Part of the bad planning mentioned above was an unscheduled trip to the Apple Store with my fiancee and her mother to help her with a PC-to-Mac switchover. This, in itself isn't hard. I've actually done it twice now. But the Best Buy employee that originally backed up her PC files did a number on it. Let me tell you this: I'm not a computer guy, so I love Macs. I love iPods. I really love my iPhone. But two-and-a-half hours in an Apple Store is a form of almost Lovecraftian horror. Nothing makes sense after about a half-hour, and by the 2nd hour sinister forces beyond your comprehension begin to reveal themselves to you. On the plus side, the wi-fi was free.

I have decided not to include pictures in this blog post. Why? Because I hate you, the reader.

Behind the scenes at TMS, we spend a lot of time deciding to whom we give support, and from whom we take it away. There have been some rumblings that we must no longer support Wanda Sykes (which surprised me, because I didn't even see her name on the TMS Support Whiteboard). Brant Brown has offered the following evidence for the prosecution:

"The promotional spots for her new Saturday night talk show on FOX have become a painful nuisance on our otherwise peaceful Sunday NFL and MLB viewing. What is really expected here? The Wanda Sykes Show will air at 11:00 p.m. Sure it will get a half-hour jump start on Saturday Night Live, but let's be serious: no one watches late night television on Saturdays anymore. Conan is struggling to regain his predecessor's ratings numbers on weeknights, and Leno is living his own Bad Idea Jeans commercial at a "gimme" 10:00 p.m. slot.

"Will people DVR her show and watch it later? C'mon, would you DVR it? Our DVRs as a nation are so backlogged with Top Chef and Ice Road Truckers episodes that we'll never get to Wanda.

"The bottom line is that there is no incentive to watch The Wanda Sykes Show. Don't get us wrong, she's not a hack like George Lopez. It's just that her style of comedy really works when it is untethered, but it will be difficult to translate to network television. While we applaud her good fortune, we can no longer support her entertainment endeavors.

Even playing Devil's Advocate, I can only come up with the following Lionel Hutzian defense:

"Well, she was funny in her segments on Dr. Katz"

Ok, I don't really hate you, the reader. I was just being cranky. I think I need a nap. And some cheap scotch.

Apparently, the Cubs are considering leaving their spring home in Mesa, Arizona if they are not granted new facilities. If so, they would move right near the tip of America's Dong, Florida. Naples, to be precise. While this sort of thing doesn't move me too deeply, it has long been my policy to support the destruction of Florida, and everything it stands for. Except for quality Death Metal and Space Mountain, everything Florida has given to this nation has disappointed me mightily. Wait. Even Space Mountain is kind of blah. Well, at least they have Atheist. I'd rant more about how much Florida sucks politically, but I usually leave our radical liberal agenda to resident TMS Communard, Arcturus.

On a final note: I will be celebrating Halloween this year, the same way I always do - sitting alone in the dark, drinking cheap scotch, and listening to the Misfits. Feel free to do the same.

Concertgoing For Dummies: The Indie Scene

2009-10-27T00:00:00.000-05:00

Hey, have you been to a music show lately? If you're a follower of this blog, there's no doubt that you've read about many o' indie bands. Christ, Chip Wesley gives you enough to listen to for the next five years in his Albums of the Year posts. Perhaps your interest has been piqued and you want to see some of these groups live. It's a tough world out there, folks. It's not like the good ol' days when you could just wear Levi's and a t-shirt to a Slowhand show while you danced at will. Nope. Sorry. Things have changed. Luckily for you, I learned my lesson last night about what the rules are for watching an indie band. My shame is now for your benefit. You're welcome.

The most important thing to remember is that the music is not paramount; you're actions and appearance are what matter most.

Appearance:

Goddamnit, this is important, so listen up. Floppy hair is best, and don't be afraid to use some light product, though take care to make it look a bit disheveled. Any and all hair should be combed in a consistent direction, with best results being the sideways style. If you must wear something on your head, a fedora or a 70's era tuque is acceptable, as is a hoodie (only worn with the hood up while inside).

Facial hair is acceptable and often encouraged. NEVER wear a goatee, but feel free to sport a beard, the more length, the better. If you must, an ironic moustache is passable, but never for back-to-back concerts. If you're unable to grow a beard, at least have the decency to have some sideburns, preferably flared at the bottom. There's a reason Dylan from 90210 is epic. Also acceptable: mutton chops.

If you wear glasses, you have one choice and one choice only: Rivers Cuomo

T-shirts are OK as long as they are promoting an obscure band, an indie record label, or a solid and uncommon color. However, this time of year calls for something long sleeved, even with the show being indoors. Tweed sportcoats and cardigans are the go-to getup. Bonus points if either have some sort of elbow patch.

If your pants aren't an indigo color, you might as well stay home. Levi's or Old Navy jeans are for Foo Fighters fans. It's enough to have you tried for war crimes, so don't even think about it. Sizing is just as important as color. Find out your "mainstream" size and then go with at least two sizes smaller.

Footwear lends you two non-negotiable choices. The first is the timeless indie classic, the low-cut Converse All-Stars. Your only other option is a lip-on dress shoe. Again, this is non-negotiable. Tennis shoes are for Pearl Jam fans.

Conduct:

Now that you're fit to go outside and be seen by other indie fans, you better learn how to act. Yeah, the music may be great, but knowing how to act is the key to avoid discriminating looks.

If the show is in an intimate setting, there is no standing. You shall stay seated and view the band with a discriminating eye. Feel free to eat some food, maybe even pack that in your napsack. By all means indulge in a beverage as long as it's a microbrew from at least two states away from your location, or an obscure European brew.

If your location demands that you stand, for the love of God, please DON'T DANCE. Try and find a wall that you can lean on. Once you're good and posted up, you can tap your foot to the bass beat of the drum and/or gently nod your head. Don't forget to give a simple and conservative applause after each song. Any more than that and you might as well get tickets to a Rolling Stones concert.

Indie events are a family friendly affair. Bring your kids and be sure to bring a large bag of toys. Even newborns are perfectly acceptable to bring along. Just be sure to bring ear protection for little ones under the age of 1. Don't worry if your rugrats wander during the show, your fellow indies will keep them entertained, all the while viewing you as "the cool parent they never had".

When it's all over, buy a sticker from one of the opening bands (not the headliner) and converse with others. Be positive, but keep it in check. You know that sound guy had the rhythm guitar WAY too loud.

Overrated/Underrated: Horror Movies

2009-10-26T11:00:00.000-05:00

Here at the saloon, I'm known as the bartender most knowledgeable about horror movies. I'm sure this is unrelated to me being also known as: 1) the only bartender without a wife/girlfriend, 2) the bartender who has been unemployed the longest, and 3) the bartender with the most serious drinking problem. That being said, here are 10 Overrated/Underrated Horror movies to help you along with your Halloween horror movie viewing choices...

Underrated:

5) Night of the Demons: On the night of Halloween, 10 teens decide to go to a party at an abandoned funeral parlor. "Hull House", rumored to be built on an evil patch of land.
I'm always trying to pimp this movie. I won't lie, Night of the Demons isn't scary at all. But it's easily the most entertaining horror movie ever made. Sure the premise is has been done to death, but the outstanding direction makes the evil house feel like it really exists, the cartoonish internal logic stays consistent, the gore is used appropriately, and the pace is lightning-quick. Even though the characters are all stereotypes, every one of them is likeable in their own way. The special effects hold up much better that you'd expect for a 20+ year old low-budget horror movie. The dated dialogue is so absurd that it's quotable, and soundtrack is awesome even by today's standards. Most importantly, all the women show some skin! I'm not claiming that Night of the Demons broke the mold, but it deserves to have a larger fan base than it currently does.

4) Deranged: A rural farmer becomes a grave robber and murderer after the death of his possessive mother whom he keeps her corpse, among others, as his companions in his decaying farmhouse.
Based on the real-life Ed Gein story (like Psycho, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Silence of the Lambs, etc.) this is one of the most accurate portrayals of the Wisconsin murderer on film. As such, the story itself isn't as gripping as similar movies that took innumerable liberties with the plot. But there's just something about the simple way this exploitation movie was shot that gives it documentary-like realism and makes the antagonist nearly likeable. The superb acting by relatively unknown actors, the gritty film stock, and the plausibility of the story elevate this film into the realm of essential viewing. And because Jesus loves you, it's on a double-feature DVD with Motel Hell, which means you get two awesome movies really cheap.

3) The Changeling: A man staying at a secluded historical mansion, finds his life being haunted by the presence of a spectre.
Ok, The Changeling sounds like every other ghost story ever made. I promise you, this one is different. It's both smart and scary. The build-up is slow & subtle, but George C. Scott makes it watchable as John Russell, the exact opposite of Patton. Although the plot can be a little convoluted at times, the genuine scares and the ending are worth sticking it out through the slow parts. In all seriousness, George C. Scott should have been nominated for an Academy Award for this movie. This is easily the best haunted house movie ever made, and it's criminally underrated.

2) Spider Baby: A caretaker devotes himself to three demented adults after their father's death.
That synopsis tells nothing about the insanity that is Spider Baby. It's like a cross between The Addams Family and Lolita. Horror icons Lon Chaney Jr. & Sid Haig are both brilliant; Chaney as a chauffer thrust into the role of head of an insane household; Haig as a demented but good-natured mute slowly devolving before the camera. The real stars are the characters of Elizabeth & Virginia; two sexy, barely-legal homicidal maniacs who have the mentality of 7 year old schoolgirls. Black humor abounds and it's easy to tell from the beginning that you're supposed to root for the maniacs. Aside from being completely amazing, Spider Baby is significant as one of African-American film pioneer, Mantan Moreland's, last acting gigs. It's also directed by Jack Hill, who went on to shoot the blaxploitation classics Coffy & Foxy Brown despite being a crusty old white guy.

1) Martin: A young man, who believes himself to be a vampire, goes to live with his elderly and hostile cousin in a small Pennsylvania town where he tries to redeem his blood-craving urges.
George A. Romero's best movie may be his little known vampire flick. Gritty yet believable, the viewer can't ever be certain if Martin is really a vampire or just an extremely troubled teen. The contrast of Martin's apparent naïvety with his monstrous bloodlust make him a compelling character. The old man determined to destroy Martin is either heroic or selfish depending on how you choose to view this movie; but you'll find both him & Martin to be sympathetic characters. Martin works on lots of different sociological levels, but even taken at face value, it's a great movie; albeit a little slow at times.

Overrated:

5) Dracula: The ancient vampire Count Dracula arrives in England and begins to prey upon the virtuous young Mina.
Bela Lugosi is great as Dracula, and director Tod Browning does what he can with the material, but this much-loved Universal horror classic is just a bore. Even at 75 minutes, this movie is tedious. The protagonists are all uninteresting, the effects are awful, and Dracula dies a bland death off-screen. If you've never seen it, don't read that last sentence. And if you think I'm not cutting it enough slack because it was made in 1931, go watch Nosferatu from 1922; it's the same story, only: the vampire is scarier, the effects don't insult your intelligence, and the vampire dies on camera.

4) Hellraiser: An unfaithful wife encounters the zombie of her dead lover, who's being chased by demons after he escaped from their sado-masochistic Hell.
Hellraiser isn't a bad movie. It just isn't a very good movie and definitely undeserving of the "classic" stamp it so often receives. The effects are fine, the acting is decent, and the Cenobites look scary. Unfortunately, these multi-dimensional beings have the attention spans of gnats and are dissuaded from their goal of taking the rightful prisoner back to their hellish dimension by a 15 second speech so hackneyed that it might as well have been written by me. The editing is jarring (not in a good way) and the ending is unsatisfying. If Pinhead wasn't such a scary-looking motherfucker, this movie would have been forgotten long ago.

3) Dawn of the Dead: Following an ever-growing epidemic of zombies that have risen from the dead, a group of survivors seek refuge in a secluded shopping mall.
This movie has a lot to say about a variety of poignant subjects from good ol' human nature to American consumerism, but all that interesting subtext is hidden inside a really bland movie. The blue-faced zombies aren't convincing, the protagonists are all unlikable, and the scenes with the roving biker gang drag on forever. Let's all finally admit it: Dawn of the Dead earned it's reputation as a classic solely on the fact that we all really like the idea of hunkering down in a shopping mall while the world goes to shit around us.

2) Suspiria: A newcomer to a fancy ballet academy gradually comes to realize that the staff of the school are actually a coven of witches bent on chaos and destruction.
I might lose some friends over this one, but it must be said: Suspiria just isn't that great. I'm not saying it isn't enjoyable. Dario Argento helmed a fun movie with a couple brilliant visuals and an awesome soundtrack. However, the reverence that horror fans display toward this film is absurd and unwarranted. If Suspiria were made by an American director, we'd cite its use of colors, camera angles and weird dialogue as hallmarks of an outdated camp classic rather than a cinematic tour de force. Since it has a stylish European director's name attached to it, Suspiria now holds a special place in the hearts of cinematic hipsters everywhere.

1) John Carpenter's The Thing: Scientists in the Antarctic are confronted by a shape-shifting alien that assumes the appearance of the people that it kills.
Great effects and a frightening premise can't help this remake overcome it's greatest flaw; namely, that anyone at any time can be the Thing. Aside from Kurt Russell, the characters are fairly generic and unlikable, so when a character is revealed to be the monster, it doesn't matter because you never really give a damn about them. Also, there isn't any logical plotline to follow regarding the creature's agenda. Viewers don't know anything that the isolated crew doesn't know, and the crew doesn't know shit. Because the story advances mostly to showcase the special effects rather than to scare the viewer, characters are mostly killed and assimilated by the Thing off-screen so that we can see their transformation into the Thing onscreen when they're invariably discovered to be the current incarnation of the alien. Viewers learn early on that the entire cast is expendable, so there's never any real tension to be had when things go bad. The ending is often cited as being one of the best in horror history, but I find it unsatisfying and frustrating. Although terribly dated, the original is better in nearly every way.

Destined to Fail: Coach McGwire

2009-10-25T18:17:00.006-05:00

Word on the street (aka. the sexy, swinging offices of ESPN) is that Tony LaRussa will indeed return as the manager of the St. Louis Cardinals in 2010. The catch? Hal McRae, Cardinals hitting coach, has been fired. Replacing him? None other than Mr. Andro himself, Mark McGwire. I mean, when a team wants to hire a hitting coach, they naturally want someone who 1) was a one-dimensional hitter with a .263 career batting average; 2) who had only 30 more career hits than strikeouts, and; 3) who has lived the greater part of the last decade in relative seclusion, away from the game and the rigors of the road. In an incredible stroke of luck, McGwire just so happens to fit all three criteria.

McGwire quotes that will be heard on the first day of Spring Training:

"Have I watched video of your swing? No. I'm not here to talk about the past".
"What you want to do here is take a tablespoon of this and put it in your water bottle. Trust me".
"Singles and doubles? No, we're not going to do that".
"Jab this in your butt. If you're queasy, we re-signed Khalil Greene to take care of it for you".
"Tony, I thought you said I could do this job from my super secret compound in Southern California".

Rudy Jaramillo v. Mark McGwire. Early advantage: Cubs

Hervé Villechaize Named New Cubs Hitting Coach

2009-10-22T09:15:00.004-05:00

Well, yesterday was Wednesday, so that can mean only one thing: time for the Cubs to hire a new hitting coach.

We could see it coming. Anemic bats and a lackluster offense piss a fan base off to no end, so Jim Hendry did the one thing a good GM does to revive flagging run production: through a series of intelligent trades and smart free agent signings, he picked up some patient hitters with good power to...even I can't finish this sentence.

No, he did what Jim Hendry does: he changed coaches. Again. And this time, he did it in a spectaculary Hendrian way: a long term contract.

At first I was stunned that Hendry chose Hervé Villechaize for such a demanding position. I mean the man's main claim to fame is playing the lovable Tattoo from television's Fantasy Island, a show I'm pretty sure I watched as a very small child, but have no concrete memories of other than it gave Khan a chance to dress like Sonny Crockett. Of course, I mainly remember him as Nick Nack from the exquisitely awful Roger Moore Bond flick, The Man With the Golden Gun.

And while I'm aware that the entertainment industry has a long tradition of casting little people in major motion pictures (including such luminaries as Billy Bardy, Verne Troyer, Peter Dinklage, and Tom Cruise), baseball hasn't really followed suit (with the notable exceptions of Eddie Gaedel and Mike Fontenot).

I'm sure some think this signing is a tip of the cap to the late, great Bill Veeck, and a belated acknowledgement that the Cubs haven't really been a worthwhile franchise since a Veeck ran the show on the North Side. But I beg to differ.

First, the Cubs aren't so completely awful and low-attended that the fans need distractions to come to the ballpark. Yet. And Villechaize is a native Frenchman. Baseball has long had problems with Francophonic peoples, culminating in the near-30-year flirtation with Montreal baseball, an affair that ended in such an ugly manner than the team ended up moving to Washington, a city whose reputation for baseball suckitude was so widespread that even musical theatre types know it.

No. I know what this move is.

Pure Dada.

The Cubs have tried making coherent plans to win a World Series in the past. Clearly, they aren't good at that. At all.

No, they're shaking things up by challenging the notions of narrative and sense in public discourse. They're tapping into the unconscious, anti-reasoning dark side of human nature and making a comment to the sporting world that chaos and irrationality are the only solution to a rationalistic world that has led to global wars, corporate greed, and the continued existence of Aaron Miles.

And I, for one, salute this new avante-garde team. For too long have Cubs fans tried to make sense of the myriad asinine moves made by assorted front offices. Why not push it all the way, defying all sequential thought and causality? Why not sign a bitter, angry alcoholic, French midget to teach a team of multimillionaire atheletes how to hit?

Whoa. It turns out Villechaize has been dead for 16 years. GENIUS!

My cap is doffed to you, Hendr--what? Hold on a sec.

Oh. My mistake.

The Cubs actually signed former Texas hitting coach Rudy Jaramillo.

I guess that makes a lot more sense. He's had a hell of a lot more baseball experience. Assuming that the Cubs are planning on moving in the outfield walls, juicing like a Tropicana factory, and swinging for the stars, I support this move wholeheartedly.

So yeah...sorry about wasting your time. I really shouldn't have tried to do cogent analysis when I stopped following baseball in July. Next week, I'll write about Iron Maiden or post-punk or the hilarious results of teen pregnancy.

P.S. - God, I still hate Aaron Miles so much.

Stuff White People Shouldn't Do

2009-10-21T07:00:00.000-05:00

This is list is inspired by a couple things, some of which will be discussed below. The main reason for this list though is the blog, Stuff White People Like. If you haven't read this blog yet, I highly suggest you take 5 minutes of your break, pour yourself a cup of coffee or wine, get cozy in your sweater and shorts with your vegan sandwich that you bought at Whole Foods and take a gander, it's the funniest thing you'll read all week, besides of course Marmaduke in the Sunday New York Times (seriously though, just click on one of those links).

Bald Guy/Dreadlocks
While the two are the complete opposite hairstyles, one that is no hair whatsoever and the other that is WAY too much hair, neither of these "dos" should ever grace the dome of a white guy. Why not, you may be asking me? Well, let's just look at the reasons for your choices, sir.

First off, bald guy, why are you shaving your head? It's probably because you are going bald and one day decided, hey, I'm going bald and am going to do something about it. So instead of going out and getting Rogaine or joining the Hair Club for Men, you decided to take the slacker way out and just shave your head. And don't give me that, "It's cheaper and my chick digs it" bullshit. If you add up the amount of money you are going to spend on shaving cream and razors it's going to more than just getting implants or some topical medication. And no, chicks do not dig bald guys. It's like when guys say it's okay that their girl has a flat chest. Sure it makes for a better personality, but deep down inside we wish your bosoms were ample enough to motorboat when we come home drunk from Friday's happy hour.

On the other end of the hair spectrum, if you have dreadlocks and are white we know exactly what type of person you are - a dirty, foul smelling hippy. As white people we all go through our Bob Marley or Grateful Dead stage, but unlike you we didn't smoke enough pot to drop out of high school and become deadbeats. This isn't the 60's anymore, fuck-face. Your mixture of the hippy culture and Rastafarianism isn't fooling us. Your parents are jewish/catholic. You were lucky enough to celebrate christmas and hanukkah. I can smell your dirty dreadlocks from down the street. What is that, a bird nesting in your hair? You know what's even worse than the white guy with dreadlocks, mon? The braided hair. Just look at how stupid Axl Rose looked with that.

So white people, I hate to say it, but leave the bald guy/dreadlocks to black people. Who is the most famous white people that you know with these types of hair styles anyways? Kojak? The "cool" kid you buy your weed from? You're not fooling anybody. You're not Michael Jordan or Bob Marley. You're pathetic.

Ever saying "my nigga", the "n word" or any variation of the "n word"
Listening to the local FM morning show on the way to work, a caller had a story about something he didn't understand. A co-worker who was black and his friend would show up at his desk everyday and call him his nigga in regular conversation. One day the white dude said it back. The black guy didn't care so much, but another co-worker, an elderly white women told HR and the white guy found himself being suspended. It probably took this guy a while to get balls enough to call his co-worker that back, and thinking he was being "cool" just ended him up with a week's worth of docked pay and probably put on probation.

As a white person, I get it, you have black friends. Or at least you say you do to make yourself not look racist. And even if you don't, that's okay too. But even if all of your friends are black, you are never, NEVER, NEVER allowed to use the "n word" (unless somehow THIS happens to you). I don't care if you're friends use it all the time. I don't care if they call you that. Sure, you're friends might be cool with it. But just wait until that one time when you're out in public and someone overhears you say it. Yeah, it's not going to be so cool anymore. You are going to get your ass beat.

This isn't a discussion of whether black people should be able to use the "n word" or not. You are white, therefore you are NOT allowed to say it. End of story. Look, I won't even write in this post because I'm white.

Pimping Your Shit
There are many cool things about the hip hop culture. 20" rims, getting crunk, gold teeth just to name a few. But they don't belong to you. Stop trying to pimp out your ride. If you are listening to the latest P Diddy joint in your car, take after Michael Bolton in Office Space and turn that shit down before rolling up to a stop.

No, not that Michael Bolton.

Unless you are heavily Italian, you don't need to be wearing gold chains. And yes, girl, you're ass is flat. You are white, it's supposed to be like that. Those push-up pants or underwear or whatever you're doing back there ain't fooling me. Stick to the things that are "white people safe". Maybe a pair of pre-ripped jeans, or an Ed Hardy t-shirt. Sure an earring is okay (really it isn't), but why not try out that lip or eyebrow piercing instead. Want to pimp your ride? How about a spoiler or some flames? That shouldn't make you look like a douche-bag, but honestly, it probably will.

Naming your baby something "original"
There has been a growing trend, especially among the celebrity culture, of naming your newborn something creative. Fucking stop it! 90% of white people come from an Anglo-Saxon Christian background. Stick with the biblical names, or at least the regular white people names. You want your daughter to grow up and be a stripper, go ahead and name her Destiny, at least she won't have to change her name when she applies for the job. In fact, there are tons of sites that have names on what NOT to name your baby. Here is one for instance. Butch? India? Lennon? Talullah? GFY!

So white people, please stop trying too hard. Stick to things that we like. For instance, living by the water, irony, co-ed sports and dinner parties.

You Make the Call: Kyle Orton

2009-10-20T14:09:00.004-05:00

You make the call...

Kyle Orton........................................or...........................Kyle Orton

I am an exceptional thief quarterback!

This Week in Anger: Bears, Balloons & Belligerence

2009-10-19T07:00:00.006-05:00

The Bears lost to the Falcons last night. I'm still trying to come to terms with this. Since each football team only plays 16 games in the regular season, my quick math skills tell me I should feel roughly 10x angrier at a Bears loss than a Cubs loss. Judging from the nausea I felt after the Bears didn't convert on that final 4th & 6, that equation seems adequate. With concentrated rage still festering inside me, I have decided to unleash my fury at anything and everything that has pissed me off this past week...

The Balloon Boy: I'll admit it. I thought the whole thing was hilarious even before he was found safely "hiding in the attic." But looking back on this hoax perpetrated by fame-crazed nut jobs, this entire thing seems so desperate and ugly. Now I understand how my ex's feel...

Anyway, fuck you, six-year-old Balloon Boy. You were the first Falcon to piss me off this week, but not the last.

Other People Buying Me Clothes: I know I dress poorly. Most of my t-shirts have unexplainable bleach stains on them. Of the 3 pairs of jeans I own, two were purchased at the flea market. If I lose a button on a shirt, I have been known to sew on a new one of a different size & color, and then paint them all black with a Sharpie so they'll match. I get it; I suck at dressing myself.

Still, anyone assuming they know enough about me to buy me clothing is both instantaneously creepy and arrogant. Would these people feel secure enough in their presumed knowledge of my tastes & preferences to buy pornography for me?

"Here, I saw this in the store and thought of you..."

Hell no they wouldn't. Because it's weird & wrong. Besides, just like pornography, there's an overwhelming probability that their clothing purchase will be kept hidden like a dirty little secret that I don't want my friends to find out about.

Anybody Who Says the Word "Delish": This one is for the ladies...If I had enough testosterone to grow hairs on the back of my neck, they'd be standing every single time I hear one of you use this word. Thanks to Facebook, whenever some female I know cooks something remotely edible, they post a status update to tell the world that their Lentil & Blue Cheese Muffins were "delish." And while seeing it written is upsetting enough, hearing it spoken is beyond infuriating. Ladies, what happened to the ending? Did your uterus contract when you try to add the "-ious" part, somehow causing this malformed word to leave your lips as a kind of linguistic abortion? I don't know how that shit works. If that's not the case, for fuck's sake, use the entire word! Or at least abbreviate "scrumptious," because if you shorten it to "scrumpt," it sounds like you made something vaguely filthy and sexual. And that's way more fun to ponder while I mindlessly block out your narration of a boring cooking story.

Telling Non-Transferable Work Stories: Speaking of boring stories, here's something that everybody has been guilty of at some point in time. You come home from a frustrating day of work. You really don't want to talk to anyone, but your significant other cozies up to you and asks you how your day was. Rather than just sighing "fine...", for some reason you decide to give a lengthy recount of your day; describing the co-workers, policies and corporate culture that nobody could possibly understand if they haven't been working alongside you for the past five years. My friend, you have just told a non-transferable work story.

The poor bastard hearing your saga tuned-out the moment you used the word "productivity" and they're giving you feedback based solely on your inflection and facial cues while thinking of limbs they'd be willing to part with in exchange for you shutting the fuck up. Deep down inside, you're well aware that nobody can empathize with your position & work environment, but you plod along with your boring story of idiot co-workers and dreary paperwork anyway.

People Who Insist on Describing Their Dreams: And while we're on the subject of shit people should shut up about, let's get dreams out of the way. In the past week, I've had no fewer than 3 dreams recounted for me. Why do people feel the need to do this? Dreaming is an uncontrolled function of the brain. As such, it is an involuntary biological function. And while I usually find humor in a well-timed fart, you can keep any other biological functions to yourself; especially ones as boring as dreams. The real kicker is that the person recounting their dreams always seems so fucking impressed with themselves for interpreting the random firing of synapses into a vaguely coherent story. Yet they still manage to pat themselves on the back for being able to recognize the obvious illogical nature of the plot. Wake up and smell the coffee, dreamers; Nobody else cares about your wacky nonlinear story that didn't actually happen anyway!

People Pestering Me To Watch A Certain T.V. Show:
I don't think most people fully understand the severity of this infraction. Being unemployed, I watch a lot of T.V. Mostly sports, late-night reruns of 80's sitcoms, and Girls Gone Wild infomercials. In actuality, I watch very little current programming. The few contemporary shows I do watch mean a lot to me. While I personally believe that television has reached a Golden Age in terms of the amount of quality programming available, I don't have the time or patience to follow everybody's ridiculous suggestions. Nowadays, even bad sitcoms have linear plots that would require days of unending DVD viewing to catch up on their backstories. With the fall television season beginning, I'm overwhelmed with people giving me tips on how to waste more of my life in front of the television. On my newly minted "Pain in the Ass" scale, suggesting that I begin watching a new television show falls somewhere between learning Urdu in my spare time and adopting a club foot baby. Come on, people! Go read a book. It's much easier to dismiss your poor taste that way.

Bears Week 6 Preview: Falcons

2009-10-16T08:33:00.004-05:00

There's a saying that a bye week always seems to come around when your team needs it the most. For the Bears, I couldn't agree more. Week five might seem like it's early but don't forget that these guys have been hitting since the middle of August. With injuries starting to pile up, this could not have come at a better time. It looks like we'll be getting everyone back including Hester, Knox, Hillenmeyer, and Tinoisamoa.

Unfortunately we have to play Atlanta, who didn't seem to flinch in the face of a very good defense last week. They managed to put up 45 points against San Francisco, which infuriated coach Singeltary and undoubtably led to more locker room de-pantsings than the horrible wrath of the Cortesi brothers' illustrious campaign my sophomore year of high school. We have been able to put some pressure on the quarterback, but Matt Ryan is notoriously good at avoiding sacks, only giving up two so far this season. The Bears should be able to contain Burner Turner but after Roddy White posted 210 yards and two touchdowns last week, our secondary should be more concerned than my father on prom night. Wait, I meant A father on prom night........God Dammit....

And let's not forget last years little episode. I, along with about ten friends (including the best man), were "in the bathroom" watching the end of the game in a hotel bar during a wedding. The game was well in-hand after a late fourth quarter drive led by merkin chin to put the Bears up 20-19 with only ELEVEN SECONDS on the clock. Celebration! High fives and shots for everyone!

The Bears chose to pooch the ensuing kickoff (for some reason) and Atlanta brought the ball back to their 44 yard line. They then completed a 26-yard pass to let Elam kick the game winning FG with one second left. Sadness and shots for everyone.

Let's hope that Lovie has been showing that film to the guys for the past two weeks so they can remember how that feeling tasted.

Frankly, I think this is going to be a shootout. Here's hoping for a Bears victory and some vengeance.

White Chili prediction: Bears 35, Falcons 28

The War on Errorism

2009-10-15T17:00:00.004-05:00

Last night a friend and I were having a nice dinner before going to see a Yo La Tengo show (excellent performance btw, check them out on You Tube if you get a chance). Discussing how our days went, she had brought up that she was having a business lunch with one of her clients and a couple co-workers. They were talking about their industry and how it was a "perfect storm" that the economy had fallen apart so quickly along with a downturn in their industry's performance. One of her co-workers, who has obviously never been in an actual business/social situation, brought up an interesting email that she had just read about the President and the brewing of another "perfect storm". The email alluded to the election of President Obama on the basis of "change" and then went on to compare the current state of the United States to Germany in the 30's. It concluded with many similar correlations between Obama and Hitler.

Notwithstanding the obvious faux-paw of my friend's co-worker of mixing politics with social situations, let alone business ones, combined with the fact that my friend is half-Jewish, it amazed me that this person would actually not only repeat this, but present this as fact without a little fact checking. So I did my own. The article she was referring to was actually an email from a Harvard professor entitled History Unfolding. He obviously has his credentials and knows what he is talking about:

David Kaiser is a respected historian whose published works have covered a broad range of topics, from European Warfare to American League Baseball. Born in 1947, the son of a diplomat, Kaiser spent his childhood in three capital cities: Washington D.C., Albany, New York, and Dakar, Senegal. He attended Harvard University, graduating there in 1969 with a B.A. in history. He then spent several years more at Harvard, gaining a PhD in history, which he obtained in 1976. He served in the Army Reserve from 1970 to 1976. He is a professor in the Strategy and Policy Department of the United States Naval War College and has previously taught at Carnegie Mellon, Williams College and Harvard University. Kaiser’s latest book, The Road to Dallas, about the Kennedy assassination, was just published by Harvard University Press.

And here is an excerpt of the correlation between Obama and Hitler:

As a serious student of history, I thought I would never come to experience what the ordinary, moral German must have felt in the mid-1930s In those times, the “savior” was a former smooth-talking rabble-rouser from the streets, about whom the average German knew next to nothing. What they should have known was that he was associated with groups that shouted, shoved, and pushed around people with whom they disagreed; he edged his way onto the political stage through great oratory. Conservative “losers” read it right now.

Seems pretty consistent, right? Except for the fact that the "email" was a fraud and was debunked by the author himself shortly afterward. On his blog of the same name as the email, Dr. Kaiser (it was incorrectly stated that he is not a doctor, but his comment proved my lack of research, so much for the post!?!) informs us:

The first two sentences, beginning, "For the past thirty years," were of course written by me; the rest of the email was not written by me. Its views are in many ways the opposite of my own. It is apparently some sort of conservative disinformation campaign, quite possibly the work of a single individual, designed to muddy the political waters by falsely attributing views to others. I obviously regret the deception.

OMG! Something fake on the internet! Alert the internet police. Seriously though, if you've made it this far into this post you have probably already heard or read this story. The comparing of Obama to Hitler is nothing new.

Websites like Obama Is Literally Hitler make radical comparisons all the time, ranging from the subtle: Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini and Castro being nominated for a Nobel Peace prize (none of them won, and if you do your research, basically anyone can nominate someone for the prize), to the absurd: Hitler also had a white Mother.

But this is not my beef. Of course the internet is riddled with opinions and false truths. This is nothing new to most of us, except when it comes to a reader finding something that supports their extremist views, be it right or left. It's amazing when someone finds something that is questionably fake that they will totally ignore researching the source or facts within and start mass-mailing everyone to share in the "great reveal" that they have just discovered. The greatest fail is that most of these people are actually well educated. But in their spree to "teach" others, they forget the basic principals of their higher education.

Even as an art major I had to write multiple research papers for my art history classes, and having one of the most respected Art Historians in the country as my professor, he didn't just put up with turning in any old fluff and bullshit. Many nights were spent in the library, scouring through articles and books, checking my facts to support my arguments. So when I hear that someone is spreading the "truth" of something they found on the internet it astounds me. It took me all of 10 seconds to not only find the email that my friend's co-worker was talking about, but also that it was fake.

So please, do not take this post as support or decent against our President. It is not about right or left wing hypocrisy. I'll leave that to people like Rush Limbaugh, who thought that he was not being talked about enough in the mainstream media so he popped his fat melon into the world of the NFL and once showed us that, yes, it is all about you Rush. For the same reasons that Rush will not be an owner of a pro football team, you should research and educate yourself on something before you start spewing opinion as fact. Learn from people like my friend's co-worker and don't make yourself into a self-righteous, uninformed asshole.

Now if you excuse me, I have to write an a post about how Jimmy Clausen is the new Joe Montana.