Saturday, November 16, 2013

If there is one p-word this guy should not be eating, it is Poutine

A survey claims of all the accents in the US, the Southern accent is the sexiest; this survey consisted of people who have never seen “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.”
Taylor Swift sang at the Victoria Secret Fashion Show, but Australian model, Jessica Hart, said Taylor did not fit in on the runway; look for Taylor’s next upcoming single: “Jessica Hart Smells Like a Fart.”

Had some thought on the Incognito/Martin Miami Dolphin bullying scandal.

Our era of well-intended, politically correct, trophy-for-trying acts as gasoline on the fire of bullying.

You can tell the prettiest cheerleader that she should be dating the captain of the chess club because he is so smart, but it isn’t going to happen. People are going to be people.

Bullying requires two things: a bully and a victim. The prior is insecure and bullying makes them feel more important and the latter is generally weaker or sensitive.

You can tell kids words hurt all day long, but the fact is the weird kid with the head gear who smells funny and eats paste is going to be teased.

The meanest and scariest bully at our high school was a tiny little skinny cheerleader. She was popular only because nobody wanted to be on her bad side. Her nasty, mean-spirited little tongue reveled in causing emotional damage. In seventh grade, just as she noticed I was starting to emerge from shy, clutzy and skinny to somewhat athletic, she eviscerated me in the hall just for the fun of it. She loved it.

To paraphrase Doc Holiday describing Johnny Ringo in “Tombstone”, some people are just born with a big hole inside of them and all of the killing and stealing can’t fill it up. That’s a bully.

You can apply all the psychological terms you want, but bullying boils down to either you eat the bear or the bear eats you. So to put an end to the bullying the victim has either to leave or defeat and or humiliate the bully. Counseling? Therapy? Nope. That is why the victims see bullying as so hopeless; if they can’t mentally or physically stop the bully, the cycle of agony seems endless.

The bully’s job is one thing: to make the life of the victim miserable. If the goal of a good human is kindness, than that makes the bully the absolute worst kind of person. 

My question is: what motive did Richard Incognito have to ruin Jonathan Martin’s life?  They played on the same line, they weren’t fighting over the same job. If anything, breaking Martin down with bullying would only hurt the team.

If any good comes from this – and it isn’t going to for either Martin or Incognito – then it is to educate all the kids, including the strong and popular kids, that being a bully is as bad as a human being can get. 

Friday, November 15, 2013

Don’t you dare fuzizzle with T-Swizzle, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers
Taylor Swift sang at the Victoria Secret Fashion Show, but Australian model, Jessica Hart, said Taylor did not fit in on the runway; look for Taylor’s next upcoming single: “Skank From Down Under.”
After admitting smoking crack, driving drunk and accusations of sexual harassment, Toronto Mayor, Rob Ford, actually said he is going to run for office again. How can he possibly think of running for Mayor of Toronto? This man should be a US congressman.

The Epilogue to “My Being Bullied By A Big Football Player” story.

So on the last day of camp at the All Pro Football School, Minnesota Vikings great and six-time-pro-bowler-should-be-in-the-Hall-of-Fame center, Mick Tinglehof, and Pro Bowler and Vikings 50-greatest-of all-time, Dave Osborn, invited the gang they called Chicago, me, Bruce, and the two South Side guys, Marcus and Marcellis, to come see them after the Chicago Bear game in December.
They gave us the name of their hotel, the Drake, and told us to call them the night before and they would have tickets for us at Will Call. The only condition was that we could not be wearing any Bear gear. No kidding, you could tell all the Vikings genuinely hated the Chicago Bears.
Sadly, we had lost touch of Marcus and Marcellis.
My Dad and I went to the game with Bruce and Bruce’s dad. The tickets were amazing. Tenth row, 50 yard line. For the first time in my life I was hoping the Bears would lose because I thought Mick and Dave might change their minds on meeting us after the game if they lost.
The night of the game, it was a “Monday Night Football” game, so it was my first ever night football game. The temperature was about zero and we were freezing. Using pictures of me and Bruce with Mick and Dave, we got past the guards to outside the door of the visiting team’s locker room.
After what seemed like forever my four Vikings, Dave, Mick, Jim Marshall and Ed Sharackman all came out. We were delighted and, to my surprise, they seemed really glad to see us. Mick could not shake hands and showed us the hand he had been snapping the ball with in Zero degrees. It was bright red and swollen to twice the size of his other hand. Carl Eller walked by us wearing a giant mink coat. Got to shake legendary four-time Super Bowl coach, Bud Grant’s hand. He seemed much friendlier in person.

They asked how we did in football and we could both say great. That year there were two teams, over 125 pound heavy weights, which I played on, and under 125, which Bruce played on. And we had both been the star running backs.   
It was interesting to see my Dad genuinely impressed by these guys. Although I had to fuss at him later to stop keep saying he was taller than Dave Osborn. (He was by an inch)
All of a sudden, just as we were saying our goodbyes – the now-full team bus was waiting - I remember Mick getting a sinister grin of his face. He whispered something to Dave Osborn, Dave shook his head yes and they said;
“Wait here, we’re gonna get you boys something.” And then they snuck back into the locker room.
Bruce and I looked at each other bewildered. They both emerged with something hidden inside their long camel-skin dress coats. They were two official Minnesota Vikings t-shirts, the ones they wore under their jersey in the game. Thick white cotton with the Vikings purple emblem and XXL. They were soaked with sweat, which I could not believe was possible at subzero, but of course we did not care.
Bruce and I put them on right away. Mick and Dave my Dad and Bruce’s dad all laughed. They looked like a huge white dress on us and came down past our knees. (We were in Eighth grade)
The next two years, Bruce and I wore those shirts until they were filled with holes.
Then it happened.
One day, when I was in high school, my Vikings shirt was not in my t-shirt drawer. To my horror, I ran down to the basement and let out a blood-curdling scream at what I saw: my Vikings t-shirt had been ripped into napkin-sized rags by our one-day-a-week housekeeper, Louise.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I loved Louise. She was a heavy-set, African American middle-aged grandmother from the South Side and the sweetest woman I ever knew not counting my mom and grandmothers.
But I didn’t talk to Louise for a month.
(Every Christmas, Louise gave us a homemade fruitcake. It was one of the longest running jokes in our family. We would act like she had given us the keys to a Rolls Royce. As soon as she closed the door behind her to go catch her bus to the El, we threw it in the trash with a loud thud)
Like my autographed picture of Gale Sayers and my issue of “Track and Field News” that listed me along with Rafer Johnson, Bill Toomey and, yes, Bruce Jenner, as a National Decathlon age group record holders, (me at 15) my Minnesota Vikings t-shirt was now gone.
A few years ago, I e-mailed the legendary Decathlon historian, Dr. Frank Zarnowski, told him about the “Track and Field News” age group list, and guess what? He had it and made a copy of it and mailed it to me.
So there I am again, along with Rafer Johnson, Bill Toomey and, yes, Bruce Jenner, as a National age group record holders. Guess who else was on the list? My UCSB Decathlon coach, Sam Adams.
Some things are just meant to be. 

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Bullying Victim Nadin Khoury on The View

There is now a bobble-head doll of the crack-smoking mayor of Toronto, Rob Ford; the amazing thing? It is built to scale.
After being seen leaving a Brazilian brothel, Justin Bieber has been accused of spraying graffiti on a building. Who does this clown think he is? Mayor of Toronto?
Spirit Airlines fee charging is out of control. Now, if you fly somewhere for Thanksgiving on Spirit? On your return flight they charge you a $20 “You gained weight, lard ass” fee.
The other day I saw a women in a Prius stopped at the stop light; she had a lap dog in her lap, her iPhone to her ear and she was slurping out of a bowl; apparently she was in a hurry to get to Douches-R-Us before it closed.
Studies show eating while you drive increases your chances of being in an accident by 80%; and eating and texting with a lap dog in your lap while your drive increases the chances of you being an utter douchebag by 100%.
That Obamacare website is a mess. Today I tried to sign up and ended up paying an extra baggage fee on Spirit Airlines.
Miami Dolphin tackle Tyson Clabo defended Richard Incognito’s obscene and racially charged phone message saying it may have been a drunk dial. That is the only way this story gets any weirder: if it turns out it is a love spat between two 315 pound NFL dudes.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

A British doctor claims he has discovered a pill substitute for alcohol that gives you the buzz without a hangover; how lazy, stupid and sad have we become when we want to get drunk but without all the work of drinking alcohol?
“Sure, I’d like to get drunk, but who has the time to open a bottle of beer, pour it in a glass?  And then it’s all swallow, swallow, swallow.”
The weather is amazing here, 80 degrees, but it is cold everywhere else. In Toronto, it was so cold, Mayor Rob Ford smoked crack just for the heat from his pipe.

Since you asked:

Not to get over-dramatic, but I think I just witnessed a miracle. My 15-year-old daughter, Ann Caroline, who runs six miles a day for Cross Country, just walked the six blocks home from her school instead of calling me for a ride. Hallelujah
Love people who become apoplectic decrying the evils of prejudice, sexism and judging by appearances. But prop up a white dude, heavily tattooed 6.5, 315 pound Miami Dolphin linemen accused of using the n-word and bullying?  They cannot wait to crucify him even before all the facts come in.
One woman on Facebook, in a discussion about the Dolphin bully scandal, called anyone who didn’t utterly defend Jonathan Martin and condemn Incognito a pussy and an asshole. Isn’t that sexist? Isn’t that being a bully?

There is a scene in "Brian's Song" (Pause for a Hallelujah chorus from angels) where James Caan as Pic is working out in Billy Dee Williams as Gale Sayers's basement and Pic is urging Sayers to do one more leg extension. Sayers cannot so, to motivate him, Pic calls Sayers a N-word. And then a chickensh*t N-word. Then they almost die laughing.

Now if that was the only thing you saw, you would think Pic was a keen racist. He was not. Now I am not comparing Richard Incognito to the Sainted Pic,  but we do need so see the rest of the movie. 
Why isn’t it illegal for that one grocery store clerk who always looks at your items and then predicts what you are about to do?
“Oh, lump charcoal, tortillas, shrimp, tequila, salsa, margarita mix, somebody is having a Mexican style barbeque.”
Next time I swear I am going to get a bottle of Vodka, a proscription for Viagra, a jar of Vaseline, Preparation H, condoms, a giant cucumber, whipped cream, some rope, clothes pins, a ping pong paddle and red candles and see what the freaking genius guesses.  

Can I just say I think Deepak Chopra, albiet a wise and spiritual man, is kind of a dick? Look at his choice of eye-wear. And Conan O'Brien has him on his show all the time to promote whatever Deepak is whoring at the time, and Deepak throws my Conesky all kinds of shade.