Thursday, June 10, 2010

Oh slap ditty bop, hmm, hmm, hmm, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

A medical study that polled 100 urologists reveals the groin punch game is harmful to boys. This brilliant analysis comes from the institute of Well Duh from the department of Yah Think?

In Seattle a man shot himself in the scrotum when the gun in his pants misfired when he was shopping at Lowe’s Home Improvement. That has to be the most embarrassing place a man could be shot, and I don’t mean the scrotum.

A poll of 100 urologists reveals that the groin punch game is more harmful to boys. Gosh, next thing you know they’ll tell us that girls are more likely to get pregnant than guys.

There is a lot of controversy surrounding putting an Islamic Mosque at ground zero; for now I think we should really focus on putting a man on Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan.

Of the public reaction to his company’s Gulf disaster, British Petroleum CEO Tony Hayward said; “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” Interesting, so what would burying him in twenty tons of leaked oil do to him I wonder?

In Seattle a man shot himself in the scrotum when the gun in his pants misfired when he was shopping at Lowe’s Home Improvement. You would think a guy who stuffed a gun in his pants is crazy, but it turns out not to be as nutty as he used to be. If he got shot shopping at Lowe’s that must mean the bullet hit the purse his wife was carrying his testicles in.

“The Dog Whisperer” Caesar Millan and his wife of 16-years, Ilusion, are getting divorced. But don’t feel bad, 16-years is 112 in dog whisperer years.

CBS has a new comedy title “(Bleep) My Dad Says.” It has bleep in the title. Now don’t confuse this with NBC sitcoms, they have bleep in the scripts.

“The Dog Whisperer” Caesar Millan and his wife of 16-years, are getting divorced. Apparently she caught him fooling around with some bitch.

Since you asked:
How about those Chicago Blackhawks? First championship in almost 50 years, or as the Cubs call that: recently. Now, as a former Chicagoan transplanted to San Diego, I may not be as hockey savvy as I used to be, but I love the way the ‘Hawks used their long slappy sticks to hit that disk-thingie into the netty-jobbers. No, seriously, the way the ‘Hawks forechecked in the attack zone during power plays allowed them to send a bender on the shortside to put the biscuit in the basket.

Yeah, I don’t know what any of that means.

But I do love the way Adam Burish hammered Chris Pronger in the on-ice interview right after the game. Burish called Pronger the biggest idiot in the league and if he sees him again, he’ll punch him. That is so refreshing and so much more honest than the usual politically correct sports spewage:

“He’s a competitor and we’re all giving 110 % so I have to give him credit.”

In the words of the great Keith Jackson:

“These two teams just flat-out don’t care for one another.”

Now go party with the Stanley Cup trophy, ‘Hawks. There better be tales of the cup getting dented in strip joints and night clubs and blues bars.

Oh, and anyone who wants to give the awesome Jeremy Roenick a hard time about crying tears of joy on air after the win? Feel free to walk up to Roenick and call him a crybaby. I'll stand back here and bet on how many body bags it takes to get you to the morgue.

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Let me ask you this: is there a man, woman or child, in this country, when given the chance, doesn't love the heck out of a surfin' daawwwwwwg?

With the birds I share this lonely view, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

An 18-year-old Toledo man was arrested for stabbing his mother for her cheeseburger; he spent the money she gave him for food on weed, smoked it, and then stabbed her for her cheeseburger. Wasn’t this an episode of “The Brady Bunch”?

A study reveals Viagra can cause hearing loss. Or as Viagra users heard that: Viagra can hose earring toss.

A study reveals Viagra can cause hearing loss. So, guys, Viagra can help you have sex with a woman, you just won’t be able to hear her talk after sex. To which guys said; “So what’s the downside?”

Congress repealed the military’s “Don’t ask, don’t tell” gay policy. Now it will be replaced with a “Wasn’t “Sex in the City 2” to die for?” policy.

A 21-year-old New Jersey man, Matthew Clemmens, pleaded guilty to intentionally vomiting on a fan at a Philadelphia Phillies game. Clemmens forced himself to throw up, whereas New York Mets fans throw up by watching their team play.

The Boston Celtics tied the finals against the Los Angeles Lakers, 1-1. A lot of celebrities at the Laker game. Jack Nicholson had a courtside seat, Leonardo DeCaprio had a courtside seat, Kim Kardashian had two courtside seats.

Sadly, the world’s ugliest dog passed away. So now the title goes to Snookie from “Jersey Shore.”

Sadly the British Petroleum oil spill is still leaking. Too bad the spill wasn’t caused by French Petroleum, the oil would have retreated by now.

There is fear some of the oil from the Gulf spill showed up on the East Coast, turns out it was just washed up hair care product from the cast of “Jersey Shore.”

Since you asked:

You know what cracks me up? The intense and yet insanely inane conversations that occur between two jamokes at work. Imagine two brave, bomb demolition experts defusing a roadside bomb in Iraq, encased in their deep sea diver-like bomb suits, sweating in the 100 degree heat.

“OK, I’m removing the screws from the panel. Seriously, though, why is it called a hamburger when there is no ham?”

“Good, now let’s find the ignition wire. I hope you’re kidding. It’s called a hamburger because the ground meat was first made in Hamburg, Germany. Like Salisbury steak.”

“Is it the green wire? Alright, smart guy, then show me on a map where the hell Cheeseberg, Germany is.”

“No, we want the red wire. A cheeseburger simply delineates the difference between a plain burger and one with cheese. Thus, the cheeseburger. It’s still a hamburger.

On three I am cutting the ignition wire, one, two, three, (clip) there. Well then why do they call a bacon cheeseburger a bacon cheeseburger? Why not list all the ingredients and call it a bacon, cheese, tomato, lettuce, pickles and onion burger?”

“OK, remove the timing device. If you’re going to be that idiotic, you left out mayonnaise, ketchup and mustard. Why not include all of them?”

“Timing device is out. First of all, I don’t put mustard on my burgers. No right-thinking person puts mustard on burgers, mustard goes on sausage meats only.”

“Good, now look for the explosives. Hello? Ever hear of White Castle and McDonalds? They put mustard on their burgers.”

“Found the explosives. And if you’re going to be extra douche-bag-y, why not mention the bun? No, the bun, the mayo, the tomatoes, the lettuce, they are all implied to go with and in a hamburger.”

“OK, pull out the explosives. You can eat a plain patty, no bun, no nothing, and it’s still called a hamburger.”

“Got it. No, it’s called eating a plain patty. For it to be included in the hamburger category, it needs at least a bun with mayo, minimum.”

“Cut the green wire. So what if I want a plain burger on a bun with no mayo? That’s still called a hamburger.”

“It’s cut. No, the mayo is implied, that is why you have to specifically request no mayonnaise to the waitress if you don’t want mayo. It’s assumed mayo is on anything in the sandwich category.”

“Wrong, wrong, wrong, Professor Hamburger. A hot dog is a sandwich and you don’t want mayo on your hot dog if you’re not an insane person.”

“Now cut the blue wire. Since when is a hot dog a sandwich? That’s like calling pizza a sandwich because there is dough involved. Are trying to tell me a corndog is a sandwich?”

You got the idea.

Got a new favorite person in the world:

Ken Jeong. He stole "Knocked Up" He stole "The Hangover" He stole "Role Models" "Now get out of my Burger Hole" is one of the best lines ever. And he is a real doctor which means he is legally allowed to put his fingers up people's butts.

But I still bet he drives like crap . . . oh, it's a joke, people.

Seriously, check out Ken Jeong's stand up on YouTube. He's like Bobby Lee without the self-important a-hole.

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

Yep, they looked pretty much like this
We ready steady Freddie already, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

A San Antonio man is vying to set an 87-year-old age group record in the pole vault. The previous 87-year-old record in the pole vault was set at: you’re too old to be pole vaulting.

The Octomom has a sign on her lawn imploring us to spay and neuter our pets. That’s like Keith Richards nagging you to work out.

Paula Abdul was on the season finale of “American Idol.” That’s the good news. The bad news? Paula thought she was on the season finale of “Lost.”

In a “Nightline” interview, Jesse James said he was surprised to find out Sandra Bullock was smart. We like Jesse, but being called smart by Jesse James is like Kirsty Alley calling you slim.

A computer algorithm has been developed that is capable of detecting sarcasm in text. Oh, well this should solve all of our problems, hey, let’s use it to stop Gulf oil leak.

In a “Nightline” interview, Jesse James blamed his affairs on Sandra Bullock on his abusive childhood. That’s like BP blaming the Gulf oil spill on their engineering professor.

A two-year-old Sumatran baby smokes 40 cigarettes a day. The father says he is addicted. I’m no Dr. Phil, but I think a good way to stop a baby from smoking is to take away his cigarettes.

A Tampa Bay Ray, Sean Rodriguez, was stung by a sting ray. He’s fine, but, the players on the San Jose Sharks better quit surfing for a while.

A study reveals Viagra can cause hearing loss. Upon being told Viagra can cause hearing loss, Larry King said; “Huh?”

Willy Nelson has cut off his signature pony tails. Well, he didn’t so much cut them off, he smoked them by accident.

A study reveals Viagra can cause hearing loss. This explains the Viagra commercial where the narrator screams: “I said for erections lasting four hours, see your doctor!”

“I like your take on boobies. And I like boobies.” Ronnie Shields in “Role Models.”

Man, what a weekend. Friday night a great dinner at a new restaurant in Encinitas, Barracudas, with great friends celebrating their 17th anniversary.

Next day AC was borrowed by a team in a fun soccer six-on-six tournament and I was volunteered to play goalie for a men’s team. No, I have never played goalie or even a game of soccer. When my friend asked me to play I asked if the name of the team was “Scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

Now I was one of the oldest players on the team that was divided by four 40-50 year old former soccer players and four 13-year-old boy soccer players. The young guys were good, but 13. The older guys were skilled but 40 and 50. I am unskilled and 51. To be honest, I thought this was going to be like a picnic. “Here, hold my beer, I’ll play goalie.”

Then I saw the team we were going to play.

If somebody told you it was the Argentina National team, you’d say “OK, sure, I believe that.” Nobody over the age of 26. All had European accents, long hair in pony tails, and headbands. Slim waists, no grey hair, heavily muscled thighs. They looked like they all had one name, like Bono, Pele or Raul.

It was six-on six so the field was shorter and the goals were smaller, but it was on a turf field. The goals were smaller was the only good news. The shorter turf field made the shooting and scoring very high.

With no gloves, no cleats and no clue, I played with my sunglasses on because they were prescription, otherwise I wouldn’t see the ball. After every blocked shot it was a yard sale, glasses one direction, Cubs hat the other.

But I made saves, one after another. Look, I am the first to admit that I could lose 20 pounds, but thanks to stand up paddle board surfing and working out, my core is in great shape, and I am a strong guy who used to be a pretty good football player, if I do say so.

So when one of their guys has breakaway, I run to cut him off right when he enters the goalie box, dive for the ball and apparently hit him first and knocked him in the air by four feet. Also, apparently you can’t do that. Penalty kick.

These are the type of penalty kicks where the kicker dribbles the ball in and shoots, not a set play. He dribbles towards me. Again, I go to dive on the ball. This time I knocked the poor guy flying back ten yards the opposite direction. Soccer players are fit, but small. It felt like I ran into a little kid.

The ref comes running up flapping his arms blowing his whistle and screaming “You can’t tackle the guy.” On the sideline my team is laughing so hard they are rolling on the ground. Fine, I let one of our other more soccer-skilled players, Chico, play goal for the penalty kick and they frickin scored on him.

“Shoulda tried tackling him, Chico.” Much sideline laughter.

One to nothing at the half. I probably made 15 saves, ten diving on the ground. Both knees and both elbows are bloodied from the turf. Feeling good, proud, but sore.

Second half got ugly fast. Let in an easy goal, and then dived the wrong way on a shot, 3-0 right away. From that point on we are hosed, we have made probably two shots on their goal, both right at their goalie. Their goalie I don’t think hit the ground once. Me? Over twenty times. Hard.

Our older guys were spent and the younger guys were intimidated by the men. Then it turned into a frickin’ shooting gallery. Made some pretty gutsy saves including a dive on a breakaway with a shot that hit my stomach so hard it knocked the wind out of me. At 51, no man should be doing anything that results in getting the wind knocked out of him.

Now my knees are bleeding with a steady stream all the way down my shins to my feet, I got kicked in the head and my neck had locked up. Probably made another ten saves but they scored twice more. We lose, 5-0 which is a lot in soccer but not too bad in six-on-six.

Now it’s time to take inventory. Two orange-sized bloody scrapes on both knees with the little black pellets from the turf wedged into the wounds. Two lime-sized scrapes on the elbows. Pounding headache from getting kicked in the head. Sprained left ring finger. Right shoulder so sore and jammed I couldn’t take my hat off. Deep bruises on both knees and a bruise on the left calf. Ear bloody and scraped from one of my ill-advised tackles.

But it was a great feeling. My daughter was not embarrassed, my teammates said I did a great job, the other team came up and sincerely congratulated me. “Great job, Keep” is one of the coolest things I’ve been told in a long time.

It is a life-affirming feeling to be totally physically spent and more than a little beat up. It has been a long time and it felt exactly like I had just played in a football game. The next morning I felt like I had fallen out of a high speed train.

My admiration for soccer, soccer players and especially goalies has tripled at least. It is a great sport. My style of play may have splattered a little ugly on the beautiful game, but it was fun.

And apparently hilarious.