Vote for the Greatest Maverick

Vote for Dirk!

GA: Damn Dirk! You should be hangin with us!

AJ: What, you were expecting a washed up Jason Kidd

LH: Hey, does anyone know whatever happened to me?

Office Space

I wonder what made Mike Judge decide that Office Space needed to use the censored version of The Geto Boys "Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangsta", but the uncensored version of The Geto Boys "Still (Die, Mothafucka, Die)".

These kind of moments are why Office Space has well outlasted its Y2K plotline for entertainment almost a decade later.

The reluctant defense...of my bandwagon!!!

I say this with a disgusted taste in my mouth, A statement that made me want to quit watching the NBA rather then type the words I am about to type.

But I support the trading of Richard Jefferson.

This New Jersey Nets team sucks. Vince Carter chokes on dick on an hourly basis. Nenad is softer then toilet paper, Kiki is as sharp as a bowl of water, and Yi and Bobby Simmons are going to combine for 12 points, 8 rebounds, and 2 assists per game next year. But at least there is hope for 2010!

When the team is gone.

Because the Nets are so Goddamn pathetic that this is this best they can hope for before they move to Brooklyn and try to woo LeBron. And I can only hope he shuns them and this franchise is trashed in the process.

These assholes are stuck here for awhile. And I hope they get what they deserve. It sucks because it means that NJ will likely never get a professional team again, but our fate is already settled on this.

Good Luck Jay-Y. Hope you do as well here as you did with Def Jam.

Holla ATCHA BOY!!! And Go Bucks.

Utterly Shocking.

I rarely rejoice in the pain or misfortune of others, but for the people who thought it was wise to purchase a hot glue gun at the $1 store, only to be burned by the decision, I believe their fate was sealed with so much cheap, scalding glue.

It's okay to splurge a little sometimes.

A Small Step Forward

In a move that is sure to send pong balls sailing towards the heavens in delight, beer and wine may finally start being sold in New Jersey grocery stores.

Gone will be the days of a separate trip to the liquor store to buy beer for your barbecue burgers, or the box of wine to help that hooker wash down her crack.  New Jersey will be one step closer to equality with other states, who trust their citizens to buy a six-pack at (gasp) 7-11!

Trying to explain the inability to do this is like trying to explain to an out-of-stater that we are not allowed to pump our own gas.  There's no truly good reason for this inadequacy.  It's just something we've put up with, while staring jealously at those smug Long Islander's and their gas station obtainable beer.

There are opponents to the measure, of course.  This small liquor store owner makes a valid point:

"It will kill any small business like us," said Dilip Patel, who owns liquor stores in South River and South Amboy. "By passing this bill, a lot of small business is going to be shut down."

Oh, silly, silly Dilip.  Only crappy liquor stores will be closed down.  Good liquor stores will continue to thrive with their beer and wine variety, kegs, and plentiful spirits.  Crappy liquor stores, like the one across the street when I lived in Nutley, will hopefully die a well deserved death.  I think you've been to a few of these places.

-  They sell $6.50 six-packs of Miller Lite when everyone else charges $4.25. 

-  They post hours of operation on the door, then adhere to them only when they feel like it.

- They are constantly out of Bud Light, but they have plenty of Bud Dry. 

- They give you terrible either/or options.  For example, either you can buy a dust-covered fifth of Ketel One for $30, or a plastic jug of "Commrade Boris' Sleepytime Vodcka" for $16.

- They charge $1.50 more then the supermarket for a bag of ice, because they think we are too lazy to make the separate trip to save the money.

Ahhh, but if this passes, we won't have to worry about that anymore.  We can get the basics in the same place as our raviolis and creamed spinach.  When we want variety, we will make a trip to the liquor store the "extra" stop, and not the primary destination.  And best of all, we will no longer be subject to the price gouging of stores fattened from the greed of being the only game in town.

Now, if we could only get beer Slurpees at the 7-11.....

Church fills pews with free gas raffle

Wouldn't that be the perfect slogan on a t-shirt???  "No, stupid clownfucker!", you say??  Well CNN.com says "Yes! Yes! OH GOD YES!!!"

I was curious enough to click on the little shirt link in one of the Latest News headlines on the CNN.com homepage, and apperantly they are now selling t-shirts of the headlines, with the time they are posted on the website.  However, the t-shirts seem to expire after a certain period of time, so you'd better act quickly to get your official CNN.com "Pregnant cop denied desk duty" T-shirt. 

(You know, so you can be beaten with a stick by cops, kicked in the balls by women, and beaten with a stick in the balls by female police officers.)

The current shirts available can be viewed at http://www.cnn.com/tshirt/allshirts/ .

Wish I Thought of That

This article in Slate was excellent, particularly for one well-crafted sentence.

"Maroon 5 is elevator music from the depths of hell."

Perfect.

Hurray for Brain Damage!

GA: There's something I used to celebrate today, something I just..can't remember...

AJ: The playoff game we lost? The Pope giving Mass in New York City?

LH: You losers! While your busy getting beat in the playoffs, I'm celebrating the holiday with this crazy mutha!!

Lloyd: Happy Glue Sniffin' Day, Bitches!!!!!

Uhh oh! Looks Like We're Doomed.

A 160 square mile section of the Antarctic Ice Shelf has broken off into the ocean.

 

Al Gore: I told ya! I told ya! I told ya! Ya wouldn’t listen but I told ya! I told ya!

GA: Calm down, Mr. Kennedy! Have some of this.

AJ: It’s all natural and green, just like you like it! Except for these purple hairs.

LH: Was that 160 square miles? And why I am always the Frylock to y’all bitches Shake and Meatwad?

Al Gore: Ahhh. Much better. Where was I? Oh yeah, look at my airbrushed junk!!!

The Flake that Saved America

In a purchase that should ease concerns about the declining value of the dollar, a cornflake in the shape of The Prairie State has sold on eBay for the bargain price of $1350.

Whether you are looking to pay off a mortgage, take a well-deserved vacation, or just trying to save a little nest egg for when you next need to post bond, your financial desires can be fulfilled at your local QuickChek. Not through risky lottery tickets, but good old-fashioned cereal windfall. Take a look at these current price comparisons:

 1 troy ounce of gold - $916.35
 1 barrel of oil (crude) - $101.84
 1 cornflake, state shaped - $1350.00

Apparently, this type of cornflake generates it’s own cottage industry, consisting of:

a) The hapless, unsuspecting cornflake maker. Likely a poor corporation like Kellogg (NYSE: K) that is forced to sell their product at pennies per flake.

b) Grizzled prospectors sifting through cornflake boxes, searching for recognizable cornflakes.

c) Venture Capitalists tired of risky emerging technologies, seeking the safe haven of cornflakes. They will purchase the cornflakes at high prices in hopes to attract:

d) People who will go to traveling museums to view valuable cornflakes.

If you would like to view this particular cornflake, but cannot afford to attend these traveling museums, you can click this link to view the cornflake. I assure you, these museums will keep the precious art behind impenetrable velvet ropes, and smudge-proof glass encasings, so you won’t lose too much of the "real-life" experience just clicking the link. Alternately, you can look at a map of the United States, point to Illinois, and envisualize it as a cornflake.

Dow Jones Drops 293 Points

The Dow Jones Industrial Average lost 293 points in trading today.

GA: SHIT! I told you guys not to blow the whole stash in one day!

AJ: Ben Bernake?? Sounds like he Berrrrrrrrrned up all our shit!!

LH: I hate to add to the bad news, but our cell phone bill is $420,000.

All in Unison: YAAAAAY-UHHHHHHHHH BITCH!!!

A Letter to a Friend

It’s been 3 days and I’m still waiting for the punchline.

Maybe the joke got botched, maybe it wasn’t funny to begin with, but there would be a punchline nonetheless.  The punchline doesn’t even have to make sense.  Sense is overrated anyhow.  But that often happens when someone so smart is telling the joke; the rest of us can’t understand it.

I suspect it would come from another country.  Qatar, Germany, Jamaica, doesn’t matter.  As long as the punchline came.  Probably in the form of a postcard, or an e-mail.  The last thing you sent seemed to come from an iPhone.  Always some new gadget, eh?  I never understood how you could drive some clunker to California to abandon it, yet always had the new gadget.

But there I go looking to find some sense again.  As if it’s going to help.  As if there’s something to figure out, something the rest of us can grab onto and use to understand why things turned out like this.  It can’t possibly be that you just wanted out that quick that badly?  That makes too much sense.

It’s more fun thinking that the postcard or e-mail will come and the genius will have fooled everyone.  Faked it all for whatever reason.  I wouldn’t even be mad.  It would be great.  I’d still think you were bat-shit crazy, but I’d laugh along with you.

And if I’m wrong, and you could never read this, the person I remember would probably find me trying to make sense of this awfully amusing.  How ridiculous that I would think the whole time you were ready to spring a practical joke-trap, like Noah hiding behind those giant, heavy green couches. Ready to unleash the rapid, clawless paw barrage on the unsuspecting passerby. Sudden, scary, but in the end comically harmless.

But hell, we never seem to look at anything the same way anyhow.  It’s why being your friend has been so much fun.

So I’ll just keep hoping for the postcard.  Or the next time I’m in the obx, you can just walk out of the water, with a pipe and a cup of coffee, while the usual depressing ass music you enjoy so much is playing.

It would be a great punchline.  And we’d all be a hell of a lot happier than this.

Dow Jones Up 420 Points

The Dow Jones Industrial Average rose 420 points in trading today.

GA: OOOOOOOOOOOOEEEE!  Stickay-Ickay-Ickay!

AJ: Alan GREEN-Span!!  Ahhh what’s that all about!!

LH: But aren’t you two a little concerned about inflation and rising energy and food costs?  Ahh, pass the dutchie.

Grinds My Gears - Gilligan's Island

You know What Really Grinds my Gears? The way that law enforcement has a vendetta against the elderly rescued survivors of the S.S. Minnow. Sending Mary Ann to jail for simple possession after already busting Gilligan seems like blatant Castaway Profiling.

Haven't these people suffered enough? Gilligan toiled for years under the ruthless authority of the Skipper, and Mary Ann had to live in the shadow of Ginger and her constantly choppered-in clothing and make-up. Of course they were going to become addicted to the forbidden leaf!

As always, final say goes to The 420 Wizards.

GA: Better them then us!
AJ: Didn't the Harlem Globetrotters appear on that island once?
LH: Any y'all got her digits?

RIP Gary Gygax

GG:  "Hey!  Nice costume!  Pull up a chair, we're just getting started!"

GG:  "Hey, wait!  What the hell! No, No, stay back! Roll 2d20! Roll 2d20 AIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Later, holmes.

It's The End of the Nets As We Know Them

Ah, the good old days. When New Jersey Nets basketball thrived and anyone who wished had the opportunity to sex Mutombo. But with the trade deadline ended, the Nets have let go of the most important player in franchise history not named Julius Erving, after years of subtracting the players Nets fans truly appreciated. So as I mourn a team that seems doomed to being irrelevant until they move to Brooklyn, allow me a few words of rememberance to former players, and wishful thinking to those that remain.

Jason Kidd

Without him, this team would have moved to Brooklyn already. And not a shiny new Bruce Ratner funded arena, but a dilapitated building in Bushwick that would still draw more fans then the Meadowlands. He introduced the Tristate area to crazy wives before Anna Benson and the former, richer Mrs. Strahan, and convinced slightly motivated and highly overpaid versions of Alonzo Mourning and Vince Carter to wear the Nets blue/white/grey/red/whatever jerseys.

Plus, it's a shame the Navy recently shot his kids head down from space. Christ, it's like Sputnik.

Vince Carter

 

A disaster 3 days before he got here. Remember that Nike commerical with Carter and Jefferson going toe-to-toe in dunks before he was traded to New Jersey? The commercial was funny because they were the same person, only Carter had a little more skill, and half as much heart, energy, ethics, personality, and 100% less balls and 200% more vagina. Seriously, would anyone in 2003 have traded what K-mart brought to the Nets for this Vinidiot? Because that's essentially what happened. Thanks, Bruce Ratner, for giving us this piece of shit.

Jason Collins

 

Tim Duncan: Righty tighty, lefty loosy!

O, Unsung Soldier,
We miss thee.

Ye were brought to us for the rights to Eddie Griffin,
along with RJ and Brandon Amrstrong.
You could not score,
You could barely rebound,
You were helpless against Shaq,
But dammit, you were always there,
And you always made a few good plays,
and you defended everyone but Shaq extremely well,
And you were a good teammate.
And most importantly,
Griffin got drunk and drove into an oncoming train at the age of 25,
and now we have shittin' Stromile Swift.
You are way better than either of those assholes.

We miss thee,
 O, Unsung Soldier.

 Todd MacCulloch

 

Eric Snow: Stick with me, bitch, I'll have you pulling in $125 a night! Now you see that older gentleman over there?

Todd MacCulloch: *Gulp*

 

Speaking of Unsung soldiers, Todd brought more intangibles to this team by spacing out the offense and passing well and playing respectable defense. But since he played in the time where Shaq could destroy him, we got rid of Todd for...

Dikembe Mutombo Mpolondo Mukamba Jean-Jacques Wamutombo
aka Dikembe Mutombo

 

WHO WANTS TO SEX MUTOMBO!!!

Devin Harris

 

Our new Net!  Traded to us from a team poised for a spirited playoff run to a semi-homeless pile of crap. Drinks Appletinis. Heal up from that sprained ankle and report to Riker's pronto, Devin.

 Clifford Robinson

 

The last active member of the early 90's Portland Trailblazers I so dearly loved. Then he started getting suspended a lot, including with the Nets in the playoffs against Miami when we really needed him. I blame these guys:

 

GA: Uncle Cliffy!
AJ: Wanna talk to Sampson?
LH:  Fucking Chicago!?!?  Aw, C'mon!!

Yinka Dare

 

HAHAHAHAHAHAH

 Brian Scalabrine

 

 HAHAOHOHOAHAOHOHO

 Gheorge Muerasan

 

( I couldn't find the "Score one for Zee Kids!!!" commercial, but maybe the ESPN Dancing commerical will suffice at explaining the glories of My Giant.)

 Drazen Petrovic

 

Aw. Germans drive fast, making his death somehow more tragic then Yinka Dare's. What, you didn't know Yinka died 4 years ago?,.

Keith Van Horrrrrn

 

Derided as being soft and unclutch even after making the shot that beat Indiana. Also, Ken used to say "Keith Van Horrrrrrrrrrn!!!" before missing a beer pong shot. Now he will earn $4,300,000 to sit on a bench for a month. Lucky bastard.

Kenyon Martin

 

Yeah Bruce, it's always a good idea to trade away the jowelly heart and soul of a team for draft picks, and then trade those away for the heartless, souless Carter. Choke on Jay-Z's dick, please.

Richard Jefferson

 

Save us, Obi Wan Jefferson. You're our only hope.  The only Net left from the glory years, a guy who came to our team on draft day 2001 in exchange for a guy who drove his car into a frigging train. Start hanging out with Obama and learn some speeches, because our hope lies in you, The Nad, and a guy holding an appletini.  With that, I think I might need to start hanging out with Antawn and Gilbert again. 

The Andy Pettite Congressional Hearing Drinking Game

Just when I thought I was free from creating any new drinking games involving Andy Pettite, he has to go and do a thing like testify before Congress.  Let's keep it uncomplicated, shall we?

If Congress declares a statement by Roger Clemens is either false or a lie, drink.

If Congress declares a statement by Brian McNamee is either false or a lie, drink.

If Congress declares a statement by Andy Pettite is either false or a lie, drink 3.

Anytime a congressman mispronounces someones name, drink.

Anytime the name Jose Conseco is mentioned, take a drink and immediately puke.

Anytime Rusty Hardin or Richard Emery speaks, drink until they stop, or someone beats the crap out of them.  You can stop if you go to the hearing and beat the crap out of one or both of them.

If Roger Clemens admits he took steroids, do a shot.

If Andy Pettite admits he took steroids, do 2 shots.

If George Mitchell admits he took steroids, do 3 shots.

If Chuck Knoublach fields a question from Congress only to lob it 5 feet over their heads, do a shot.

If George Steinbrenner attends the hearing, and says something incoherent, do a shot.

If an announcer references Andy Pettite's pick off mood in any context, drink 3 shots.

If Congress mentions Andy Pettite's pick off move in any context, pull out your liver and hit it with a bat a few times.  It'll be quicker.

The Epic of Toyota Al

My friend Al was recently named Cars.com Salesperson of the Year.  This made me happier then Angelina Jolie is around minority babies.  So, I decided to leave him a congratulatory comment with the first picture that resulted in a Google image search for "cars.com al".  This was my prize:

I was intrigued by this gentleman and his glorious Toyota.  If a picture speaks 1,000 words, then surely I could come up with a 1,000 word story to reveal the life of Toyota Al! With spellchecker/wordcounter in hand, I began the Epic of Toyota Al.

Al McBigHead was born in a quiet subarb of Aspen, Colorado to a devout religious family of scientologists.  His father, Norm, was a male stripper and his mother, Norm, was a housewife/CPA.  Al was an only child because the Norms killed off all of the children they deemed to be ugly, sparing Al only because of his full-bodied luscious hair, which was fully formed in the womb of Norm.

Al was an average student in school, excelling in mathematics and art.  Most of his paintings were oil based, and had a tendency toward shades of maroon and beige.  He was also adept at posing with a sense of self-satisfaction and confidence that screamed "Yeah, boyee, I'ma bussa cap in all y'all!" in otherwise non-descript situations.  These traits would go on to serve Al exceptionally well later in life.

Al majored in Theatre at Duke University in North Carolina.  It was there that he met Renaldo Rodriguez (aka "Al-do"), a mid-level crystal meth dealer who needed a courier to transport product to Nashville on the weekends.  After several initiations, Al won Al-do's trust, and was awarded the keys to Al-do's prize 1982 Toyota Corolla to make deliveries, in exchange for cash, mousse, and all the crank he could possibly, um, crank.

Let's see, how many words were in the above paragraphs.  Just 191?!?  Fuck you, Al McBigHead.

Al's business flourished under Al-do, and his courier territory expanded even as his GPA receded at a proportionate rate to his hairline.  He began making deliveries all over the Carolina's, the Virginia's, and even into Washington D.C.  He diversified his portfolio of narcotics, which eventually landed him his three best customers.

GA: My leg hurts bitch!!!

AJ: We are winning more games with you injured!

LH: I am irrelevant in Cleveland.  And LeBron don't even smoke weed!!

Nevermind that these player's were barely even born while the Epic of Al took place, or that the Wizards were actually the Bullets.  The point of the story is that Al McBigHead and the events leading up to the congratulatory picture to Al, Salesman of the Year.  Focus, people.

Yes, business for Al was truly prospering.  But like all E True Hollywood stories, his life was about to take a turn for the catastrophic the likes of which had never been seen before by man or beast or God.  Al had moved up to bigger targets, which led to the end of his illustrious era of prosperity.

RC: I've found someone.

AP: Jesus?

Al began selling steroids to Roger Clemens massive ego.  For the first time in the glorious history of illegal narcotics trafficing, supply could not outweigh demand.  Al started taking bigger risks, bypassing Al-do and purchasing directly from Jose Conseco and the weird thing that grows on Jose Conseco's hand.  Al was eventually strung out on quaaludes and rogaine and was caught selling a large package to an undercover federal agent.

BG: Oooooo baby I done caught somebody!!

Al turned over evidence to the federal government in exchange for a reduced sentence.  He served 3 years in prison while finishing his college degree.  Al-do escaped prosecution by returning to his native North Korea.  Gilbert Arenas continued to slap men, and Antwan Jamison continued to take it like a little bee-atch.  Larry Hughes remained irrelevant and high.  Roger Clemens was eventually disgraced.  Andy Pettite found Jesus in an El-Paso Exxon parking lot.  Black Guy clapped.

Al McBigHead returned to civilian life in Colorado as Al McNoggin, removing himself from his past life of indiscretions and immorality.  He landed a role as Banquo in a local production of MacBeth, and stocked vending machines for the Pepsico corporation.  But he could not shake one missing ingredient in the key lime pie of his life: a Toyota.

Al McNogginstein (note: he converted to like totally Jewish and stuff) worked his way to supervisor of vending stocking and earned a salary commiserate to place a down payment on the car he so desired.  Nah, are you kidding me?  Carmelo, Iverson, and Kenyon Martin all live up in that Mile-High Mothafugga.  McNogginstein was McSlingingstein!!  Down payment in hand, Al strode purposefully to the local Toyota dealer to acheive his goal: his own Toyota.  Su propio Toyota.  Zijn eigen Toyota.  His own.

And thus ends the story of Al McNogginstein-Lee (Note:  He married a Chinese woman and took on a hyphenated version of her name) and how he came to pose pantsless in front of his beige Toyota that I found while finding a picture to attach to a comment of the Salesperson of the Year.  And if there is a moral to this story, it's that the Toyota does not make the man, it's the man that makes the Toyota.  How many words is that?  791?  Ah piss off, bloody wankers.

GA:  That Toyota is hot!!

AJ:  I preffer a Ford Focus!

LH:  Seriosuly, even Zydranus Illgaukus won't take a bong hit with me, please Lord, HELP!!!!!!

State of the Union 2008 - Useful Definitions

surge [surj] noun, verb, surged, surg·ing.

–noun 
1. a strong, wavelike, forward movement, rush, or sweep: the onward surge of an angry mob.

2. a strong, swelling, wavelike volume or body of something: a billowing surge of smoke. 

3. the rolling swell of the sea.

4. the swelling and rolling sea: The surge crashed against the rocky coast. 

5. a swelling wave; billow. 

6. Meteorology

a. a widespread change in atmospheric pressure that is in addition to cyclonic and normal diurnal changes.
b. storm surge. 
 
7. Electricity

a. a sudden rush or burst of current or voltage. 
b. a violent oscillatory disturbance. 
 
8. Nautical. a slackening or slipping back, as of a rope or cable.

9. Machinery

a. an uneven flow and strong momentum given to a fluid, as water in a tank, resulting in a rapid, temporary rise in pressure. 
b. pulsating unevenness of motion in an engine or gas turbine. 
 
 –verb (used without object)

10. (of a ship) to rise and fall, toss about, or move along on the waves: to surge at anchor.

11. to rise, roll, move, or swell forward in or like waves: The sea surged against the shore. The crowd surged back and forth.

12. to rise as if by a heaving or swelling force: Blood surged to his face.

13. Electricity

a. to increase suddenly, as current or voltage. 
b. to oscillate violently. 
 
14. Nautical

a. to slack off or loosen a rope or cable around a capstan or windlass. 
b. to slip back, as a rope. 
 
15. Machinery

a. to move with pulsating unevenness, as something driven by an engine or gas turbine.

 –verb (used with object)

16. to cause to surge or roll in or as in waves.

17. Nautical. to slacken (a rope).
 
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cor·rec·tion  [kuh-rek-shuhn]
–noun

1. something that is substituted or proposed for what is wrong or inaccurate; emendation.

2. the act of correcting.

3. punishment intended to reform, improve, or rehabilitate; chastisement; reproof. 

4. Usually, corrections. the various methods, as incarceration, parole, and probation, by which society deals with convicted offenders.

5. a quantity applied or other adjustment made in order to increase accuracy, as in the use of an instrument or the solution of a problem: A five degree correction will put the ship on course.

6. a reversal of the trend of stock prices, esp. temporarily, as after a sharp advance or decline in the previous trading sessions.  

 

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tem·po·rar·y - [tem-puh-rer-ee] adjective, noun, plural -rar·ies.

–adjective

1. lasting, existing, serving, or effective for a time only; not permanent: a temporary need; a temporary job.

–noun

2. an office worker hired, usually through an agency on a per diem basis, for a short period of time.
 

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def·i·cit - [def-uh-sit; Brit. also di-fis-it]

–noun

1. the amount by which a sum of money falls short of the required amount.

2. the amount by which expenditures or liabilities exceed income or assets.

3. a lack or shortage; deficiency.

4. a disadvantage, impairment, or handicap: The team's major deficit is its poor pitching.

5. a loss, as in the operation of a business. 
 
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 ver·i·si·mil·i·tude - [ver-uh-si-mil-i-tood, -tyood]
–noun

1. the appearance or semblance of truth; likelihood; probability: The play lacked verisimilitude.

2. something, as an assertion, having merely the appearance of truth. 
 
 
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il·lu·sion - [i-loo-zhuhn]
–noun

1. something that deceives by producing a false or misleading impression of reality.

2. the state or condition of being deceived; misapprehension.

3. an instance of being deceived.

4. Psychology. a perception, as of visual stimuli (optical illusion), that represents what is perceived in a way different from the way it is in reality.

5. a very thin, delicate tulle of silk or nylon having a cobwebbed appearance, for trimmings, veilings, and the like.

6. Obsolete. the act of deceiving; deception; delusion. 
 
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