Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Merry Christmas, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

The Denver Broncos lost to the San Diego Chargers, 23-3 in part due to a bad performance from Jay Cutler who, on Christmas Eve, is from Santa Claus, Indiana.

You think that is sadly ironic? The Miami Dolphins got killed by the New England Patriots in part due to a horrible performance from their quarterback, Cleo Lemon, who is from Please Don’t Suck, Nevada.

Insight to evidence
NBA games are going to put a microphone on all of the coaches. The ABC and ESPN networks feels it will provide insight. Or in the New York Knicks Isaiah Thomas’s case, it will also provide legal evidence.

Save us the time, Rog
Roger Clemens continues to angrily deny the steroid accusations from the Mitchell Report. And what could be more credible than a massive 45-year-old miraculously still pitching faster than ever flying into a blind, furious rage while denying he is on steroids?

Roger Clemens continues to angrily deny the steroid accusations in the Mitchell Report. Clemens went on to say that anyone who doesn’t believe he is not on steroids can kiss his third testicle.

Roger Clemens continues to angrily deny the steroid accusations in the Mitchell Report. Upon which disgraced cheating sprinter Marion Jones replied; “Good luck with that routine, Slappy.”

Here is how it goes, Roger, so get ready.
Athlete suddenly discovers another higher gear late in their career and succeeds beyond anyone’s expectations.

Rumors start to float about that athlete’s use of performance enhancing drugs.

Athlete vehemently denies using performance enhancing drugs and demands accusers provide proof.

Facing serious fines, and or jail time as a result of an investigation, accusers provide proof of the athlete using performance enhancing drugs in order to save their asses.

Athlete continues to deny using performance enhancing drugs despite ironclad proof.

Authorities, either from the legal system or from their sport, step in to threaten severely punishing the athlete for cheating as well as lying about it, due to ironclad proof.

Only, and only, due to facing serious fines and or jail time, athlete tearfully admits they lied and cheated about using performance enhancing drugs for years upon years.

Several years from now in a “Where are those disgraced lying cheaters now?” article in “Sports Illustrated” athlete says that their humiliating disgraceful downfall allowed them to finally hit rock bottom and find religion which allowed them to become a much, much better person.

In other words, they continue their lifetime pattern of lying.

Heard a pretty good one from a bartender:
Do you know what you call a Middle Eastern cab driver?

A cab driver, you F’n racist.

Happy, New Year, Slatesses and Nugglers. Here’s wishing all of you a great 2008.

And here is also wishing 24-hour uncontrollable diarrhea to the authors of those insipid “How to cure a New Year’s hangover” health pieces in the paper that end up by advising the reader to: “Drink moderately.”

And may that uncontrollable diarrhea then quickly develop into unbearably uncomfortable constipation when those same insightful health section authors write their inevitable; “How To Lose Those Holiday Pounds” piece by sagely suggesting the reader “eat less and exercise more.”

Ahh, feel the post-holiday smugness, Slattos and Nugglets

I just discovered another great thing about being a grown up besides not having to do home work and not having to eat anything you don’t want to. It is enjoying the fact that Christmas is over.

One of the worst days in the world for a kid is Christmas night. It gets dark really early and you are already getting sick of the toys you’ve been playing with all day and the horrible fact that you are an entire year from next Christmas is begging to sink in.

Not that I don’t like Christmas, I do. This year I loved our tree, I loved going shopping and I loved watching holiday movies while wrapping the presents I got on Christmas Eve. But, until you do all of that holiday stuff, that holiday stuff all lays heavy on your mind until you get it done and it is a great sense of smugness when it is done.

It’s like the smugness of those cool/rich kids in high school who were sitting back and relaxing while their dad’s secretary typed up their finished junior themes, while I still hadn’t read one of my five required books yet, let alone written a word.

And when I did ask my dad if his secretary would type my junior theme when it was done, his only response was to laugh for a loud and long time.