Tuesday, October 09, 2012

Haz yourself some, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

An engaged Pennsylvania man is suing a strip club because he claims a stripper fell from the pole on to his lap rupturing his bladder. Not sure which is worse, admitting to your fiancé you went to a strip club or having to tell your buddies a stripper kicked your ass.

Guys, if a stripper falls on your lap and the first thing she hits is your bladder? Maybe you shouldn’t be marrying a woman.

Cadbury has produced a chocolate candy bar that appeals specifically to women; it’s called: any candy bar that is chocolate.

In Kentucky, the former NFL cheerleader has reached a deal in her case for having sex with her 17-year-old male student. She agrees to not have sex with students if the student agrees to stop high-fiving everyone he sees.  

The Spanish woman who destroyed the 19th Century portrait of Jesus, in a failed restoration, is now suing her church for a cut of the tourist money that is coming in to see it. That’s like President Obama asking for a cut of the debate profits.

Finally the weather broke and we have a cool streak. Last week it was so hot, I was sweating like Honey Boo Boo’s mom on a power walk.

Last week it was so hot, I was sweating like President Obama watching a recording of the debate. 

Since you asked:

Tina Malave brings you a special lo

"Met" today's playoff broadcaster, Ron Darling, in a hip Upper East Side bar in New York circa 1985. We were not Mets fans, so there were no autograph requests or fawning. One of the guys we were with knew a guy Darling knew from Yale, so we had an in, so he had zero reason not to be nice to us. Darling could not have been more of a pompous, dick-head, smug, douche-bag. A true tool in every since of the word. It was a miracle none of us former football players did not bitch-slap his self-righteous face. 

Having said that, I have met three "great" Mets, Darling, Lenny Dykstra and "Rusty" Staub, and I would be hard-pressed to decide which one was the worst NASA-level-approved crank-wad, poop-storm. 

Let's compare this to the two great Cubs I have met, Ernie Banks and Mark Grace. Mr. Banks could not have been a kinder, sweeter, old-school gentleman. Mark Grace had that intangible leader "thing" that made you want to play poker with him at night, and charge into battle with him the next day. And funny as hell. 

The moral? Mets suck and Cubs are great.