Monday, August 30, 2010

A close approximation of my waves yesterdiddy

We toates McGoatin’ and boat floatin’ up all in this in here, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Heidi Montag reportedly wants to get rid of her breast implants. She got the idea of losing a big boob when she divorced Spencer Pratt.

Lady Gaga has surpassed Britney Spears in twitter followers. But don’t worry, Cher is still leading all of them with people who follow her with carrier pigeons and smoke signals.

A San Diego sportswriter wrote an article on baseball player’s quirky superstitions; Wade Boggs always ate chicken before games, a pitcher named Al Holland kept two one dollar bills in his back pocket, and Mark McGwire always injected his steroids with the same syringe.

A San Diego sportswriter wrote aabout baseball player’s superstitions; a pitcher named Charlie Kerfield always wore a “Jetsons” t-shirt; Turk Wendell ate black licorice and brushed his teeth, the Chicago Cubs always use the same hand when they clutch their throats and choke.

There has been an increase in the number of great white shark sightings off Southern California waters. Some say it is because the water has been cooler, others feel more kayakers and stand up surfers see more sharks, and yet others think the sharks just want a piece of Kardashian ass.

Golfer Jim Furyk was disqualified from the Barclays tournament because he overslept. Wow, even golfers find golf boring.

Not to say Brett Favre is getting old, but today at the Minnesota Viking training camp, Favre became the first player to have the equipment manager issue him a medical alert bracelet.

Paris Hilton was arrested for possession of cocaine on the Las Vegas strip. In a related story, in a desperate move to improve their image, all Hilton Hotels are changing their names to the Amy Winehouses.

Since you asked:
As my regular a.l.B.b. readers know ad nausea, my penchant, my obsession, my lust, my thirst for rock documentaries continues un-slaked. Especially if that rock-doc or rock biopic occurs during Los Angeles in the Seventies. Hell, I even managed to tolerate Oliver Stones’s self-indulgent, self-righteous and pompous take on the overrated Doors “The Doors.”

So it was with great anticipation that I saw that “The Runaways” was on pay-per view. Not a huge Joan Jett fan, but she rocks and so did Lita Ford.

Sucks doesn’t even come close.

And, no, I am not going to indulge in Kristen Stewart-bashing, like I love to do. Kristen was actually pretty good as Joan Jett. What the eff was Dakota Fanning thinking? And the way-over-the-top performance of their manager, Kim Fowley was excruciatingly annoying to try and watch.

This movie did nothing to fight the argument all you needed was a guitar and the ability to play three chords to make it in the music business if you lived in Los Angeles in the mid-Seventies.

To give you an indication of how awful “TR” was, I had to watch “The Commitments” right after just to wash the putrid stench of “The Runaways” from my mind. But it was still an awesome day.

Stand up paddle board surfed some tasty waves at Scripps/ La Jolla Shores in crystal clear cold water. Saw a dolphin five feet away. The only bummer is I busted my paddle in two with my incredible brute strength.

After surfing I chomped on some chicken soft tacos and onion rings with a couple of maggies. Almost hugged myself and floated up in the air like Precious Pup thems was so tasty.

That night, grilled tasty burgers with horseradish cheddar cheese, grilled onions and toasted King Hawaiian buns. And with goop. Oh, the goop: dollop of mayo and ketchup with splash of Worcestershire sauce and mustard, garlic powder and pepper.

Call me Betty and slap me baffy-headed.