Friday, December 14, 2007

Takin it to the house, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Big deal
The San Diego Chargers are just one win away from locking down the AFC West and a playoff spot.

Which, in truth, clinching the AFC Worst, is like being the girl with the most teeth at the Arkansas bar at last call.

Until further notice
The Midwest is bracing to be hit by its second big winter storm of the season.

In a related story, the Chicago Chapter Against Global Warming will postpone its meeting until further notice.

Not a good sign
The Mitchell Report revealed names of baseball players who used steroids or other performance enhancing drugs. Chief among them is Roger Clemens.

Is anyone surprised that Clemens used steroids? When Clemens pitched he was on so many steroids even his baseballs shriveled up.

Except you guys
There was a surprise in the Mitchell Report on steroids in baseball;

Due to their late-season collapse, Mitchell recommended that the New York Mets take more performance enhancing drugs.

No shocker there
The Mitchell report revealed names of baseball players who used steroids or other performance enhancing drugs. Chief among them is Roger Clemens.

We should have been suspicious when Clemens came out of retirement more than Cher after a freshly cranked face lift.

Both sides to every story
The New York Jets have a problem at their games with drunken men harassing women to expose their breasts.

And yet there is a small contingent of men who claim the problem is a bunch of witty, charming guys who politely ask women to share their wonderful bodies with others, but are then rudely rebuked.

Material crap

Madonna in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? That’s like naming Michael Jackson baby sitter of the month.

Since you asked:
Check out the clip at TMZ of Tori Amos kicking out the two spoiled brats who were yammering in the first row at her concert in - where else but the home of the worst spoiled brats?- San Diego.

There is a bus I call the Overly-Entitled Brat Bus that stops in our neighborhood from one of the private high schools. The poor-suffering bus driver has to stand in the street holding up a sign to stop the cars in both directions and the cars have to stay stopped until the kids have all cleared crossing the street.

The problem? The kids don’t clear the street. They lounge in the middle of the street milling about talking to each other or their cell phones while making a line of about ten to twenty cars, and this poor, poor bus driver, sit there and wait.

The worst offender is this just-this-side-of-albino pale, pimply oaf of a jamoke who is about sixteen-years-old and pushing about forty pounds overweight. As he is sixteen and also has a huge gut, he wears his pants way, way down on his hips to the point where he walks on six inches of the bottom of his pants. You can barely see his shoes. (I'm sure it is against school policy for him to wear his gang shants)

Except he doesn’t walk on his pants, he slowly – and I mean painfully slowly – shuffles his feet across the street like a ninety-year-old man. The entire time his mouth is gaping wide open with his cell phone plastered to the side of his long, greasy hair of his giant, baby-like head.

This kid is the embodiment of overly-entitled San Diego brats.

When I first read that Tori Amos went ballistic on her fans here in San Diego, I thought, uh oh, here we have another psycho diva on our hands, and, we probably do. But it is clear from the cheering by the fans on the tape that these two brats were being unusually loud and rude and deserved to be embarrassed, called out and thrown out.

Even if it was a piano player at the lounge at the Grand Haven Michigan Holiday Inn – which is damn nice, by the way - it is rude to talk in front of someone who is trying to perform.

Of course now will come the obligatory lawsuit against Tori Amos from the two rude parents of the two rude brats who were thrown out.

To quote Don Henley:

“The more I think about it, ol’ Billy was right

Let’s kill all the lawyers, kill ‘em tonight.”

Except, of course, for the great, great counselor, the honorable and regular a.L.b.b. reader, J.A.H.L. Esquire. Or as he is known in more exclusive circles, Marvin "Shake 'em up, shake 'em loose" Tiller.

(Polite applause)