Will watch "The Grace Hilbig Show" on "E" as I am a big fan

Grace Hilbig. Right now she is climbing the Hil. One day she will be big. (See what I did there?) 

- Me, November 8th, 2014

Jeb Bush criticized President Obama’s foreign policy tactics saying he uses schoolyard antics. To which Obama said; “I know you are, but what am I?”

People in Columbia are flocking to a hillside they claim has the image of Jesus. Whereas Jesus thinks it looks more like Jared Leto.

I just saw a cordless vacuum cleaner commercial that featured one of my favorite songs as a teen, “All Right Now” by Free. Not sure how good the vacuum cleaner is, but that commercial sucked the soul right out of my body.


Since you asked:

Time now for . . . Lexervations . . . 

Coining a new term for really having to go #2. Pogo sticking. (One step past Prairie dogging)

Times of wine and no money are way, way better than times of no wine and no money.

Best documentaries I have seen in a while are tied. PBS's and Ken Burns’s “The Roosevelts, Episodes 1 and 2” It focuses on the truly amazing and fascinating Teddy Roosevelt. (Available on YouTube) And “Long Way Around.” Ewan McGreggor and Charlie Boorman’s around-the-world motorcycle trip. (Streaming on Netflix)

There were over 1,000  full-scholarship, division one basketball players who participated in the NCAA men’s college basketball tournament. Guess how many will be on NBA teams next year? This doesn’t mean starting and starring, just on an NBA team.

Maybe 25. And four or five of those will be from Kentucky.

A recent poll showed 76% of division one college basketball players believe there is a good chance they will be drafted by an NBA team. 1% are drafted.

That breaks my heart.

In my next life let me come back as New England tight end, Rob Gronkowski. He’s the New England tight end who isn’t charged with murder and seems to be redefining how to enjoy, youth, fame, wealth, music, food, booze and women in the off-season. Gronk being Gronk is the Gronkiest Gronk anybody could ever hope to Gronk. 

May the Gronk be with you.

I’m a fan of Michael Sam having the guts to come out, and I hope he makes an NFL team. 

But his interview in the “Star-Telegram” where he claims there are many gay men in the NFL who have contacted him privately, but, as Sam claims, do not have the courage to come out, well, that seems like a serious betrayal and a breach of confidence. If I was an NFL coach or executive, I would read that as a huge “Uh oh.”

There is nothing as pathetic, sad and heartbreaking as the instinctively primeval, terrified yelp/bark/cry of a dog tied up on a chain. 

Saw Shailene Woodley’s “Letterman” spot plugging “Detergent” or “Insurgent” or “Divergent” or some variation with urgent, and the warning flag went off. Shailene has always been like her name, a neo-hippy. (She eats a tablespoon of clay a day) But at one point she referenced our planet and said;

“Oh, and, by the way, a wonderful planet.”

Oh my word, our planet has been given the Shailene Woodley award of approval. This is bigger than a J.D. Powers and Associates award. What a coup. Nice job, planet. 

In the words of the great Homer, Simpson, not that other guy:

"Ohhhhh, celebritieeeeees. Is there anything they don't know?" 

Saw the Roger Ebert documentary, “Life Itself.” Quite good. It chronicled his career as a movie critic, but it also went deep into his final days as a horribly disfigured cancer patient right up to his death.

Now, I was never much of an Ebert fan, I was much more of a Siskel guy, but I didn’t realize Row-jaire Ebear, as they call him in Fance, was a Pulitzer prize winning columnist. (A fact Roger apparently never went more than a few minutes without reminding people)

But the gruesome details of his final treatments were rough. In my mind I went back and forth between thinking, gosh, what a brave guy, to my lesser-self thinking; “Wow, is that melted rubber Joker mask gross.”

And here is the weirdest part: Ebert was straight. That floored me. Really straight. In fact, when he was young, Roger-the-dodger was quite the hound for a short, doughy dork. And Gene, Gene the Siskel machine got himself some of that serious late Sixties Playboy mansion bunny orgy sex in his prime.

And Roger, at 50, done up and married his chalky, dimpled ass a hot sistah, Chaz. You go, Roger, you jaw-flapping wild man, you.

You motor-boating son-of-a-bitch, you old sailor, you . . .