Weekend Recap

• Today is a rare day, so you better remember it well. Today I swallow my pride. The same Eagles who I just told you would win the division, are the laughing stock of the NFL. They overpaid Brian Westbrook by giving him a $3 million dollar roster bonus - twice. Now we could be taking a cap hit for it. Not that this will affect our forthcoming world championship season, but it could put us in somewhat of a bind when it comes time to sign draft picks.

• Kevin Durant became the first college player ever featured on a DIME cover.

• Another Sunday, another fucking awesome race. Not for my boy Clint though. The 07 car was just terrible today. They never could get it just right. He fell from 8th to 28th in a matter of less than 50 laps. They fixed it enough towards the end of the race to get him up to finish 16th though. His first win is coming soon, mark my words.
  

• What a race folks. It had everything you could want in a race. There were multiple lead changes, a couple of cautions that created some intense restarts, and even a crazy wreck on the very first lap:

• I really thought Jeff Gordon couldn't be beaten today, his car was fantastic - it was the only one that looked great the entire race. Junior finally took him for a substantial chunk of time on lap 102, and they traded again after that, but he couldn't hold on as he wrecked out for his third DNF out of seven races this year. Gordon finished fourth, for his fourth top five of the season. It again came down to a white flag battle, as Jeff Burton pulled off an inside pass on Matt Kenseth on Turn 2 of the final lap, to take his only lead of the race and become the first ever repeat winner at Texas Motor Speedway. He won the inaugural race there 10 years ago. So congrats to a Richard Childress Racing Chevrolet teammate. At least one of them had something to show for the day - Bowyer and Kevin Harvick finished 16th and 29th, respectively.

• The Mavs - Spurs game was fucking awesome as well. What a comeback by the Mavericks. I've read more than a few people's predictions this week that San Antonio would topple Dallas in the playoffs. I don't see it. The Spurs are getting older, and Dallas just seems too hungry this year. I can't see them letting anyone take them in a seven game series. They are executing too well, and are insanely motivated to erase the memory of last years Finals dud. Anyone picking against them is crazy.
  

"John, I was first team All-State. I can put the ball anywhere I want to. I'll make it rain out here."

• Deadspin literally just put this up a minute ago and it immediately made it to the next bullet of this post. It's a video of some guy pulling a Barry Badrinath and sinking some fucking sick beer pong shots. One of the coolest videos I've ever seen.

• Drew at KSK had a particularly hilarious Sex Cannon post on their Thursday bukkake.

• The Phillies got a win out of an insanely entertaining game yesterday. Hamels didn't pitch his best, but JRoll hit his NL leading sixth homer (he must be juicing), and our bullpen was shaky enough to scare us, but not enough to blow the game. I picked a good first game to see in person. (On a funnier note, Freddy Garcia's first Phillies start was delayed by rain - on Jackie Robinson day, when every Phillie was scheduled to wear 42. Oh well.)

• Speaking of Jackie Robinson, Jerry Stackhouse wanted to honor him today by replacing his own name with Robinson on the back of his jersey. (He wears 42 out of respect for Robinson). I would normally disagree with a sports league being so stuck up about something like this, but I'm glad David Stern nixed this one. He doesn't even play the same sport as Jackie did. It just seems stupid to me.

Alright everyone, theres no Family Guy or American Dad because the ridiculously stupid-looking Drive premieres on FOX tonight. Enjoy the Sopranos and Entourage. And make sure to record the new VH1 show Charm School at ten east, it features the most retarded of all the idiot girls on the Flavor of Love shows trying to learn how to be civilized. That could be a classic in the making.

Your Philadelphia Football Eagles: 2007 NFC East Champs

1. Green Bay - Unlike many of the ass lickers, I mean, columnists, at the WWL, I don't buy into this whole Brett Farve is a quality QB garbage. That whole team is shit, and anyone that picks them for the playoffs is on more drugs than the Pipemaker. Eagles 1 - 0
2. Redskins - Two words: Jason Campbell. Eagles 2 - 0
3. Lions - Two words: Jon Kitna. Although, Roy Williams is fucking sick; he deserves better than this. Eagles 3 - 0
4. Giants - Two words: Eli Manning. Oh, and 8 more words: Michael Strahan left his wife for a guy. Eagles 4 - 0
5. BYE
6. Jets - They should be good. If Chad Pennington can hold up, the running game should open up for Thomas Jones. That trade was a steal for NY by the way. Still, the Eagles offense and defense (TKO!) will be too much for Dennis' team. Eagles 5 - 0
7. Bears - Great defense obviously, but shitty offense. Our D will kill Grossman, and DMac will rip them a new asshole. Eagles 6 - 0
8. Vikings - They might not even have a win by this point. Eagles 7 - 0
9. Cowboys - I don't think anyone can question how gay and talentless that fake spic Tony Romo is. Eagles 8 - 0
10. Redskins - Wait, Adam Archuleta is the highest paid safety in the history of the NFL? Courtesy of Dan Snyder? But wait, he's playing for Chicago now? Oh that's right, the Redskins can't do a fucking thing right. Eagles 9 - 0
11. Dolphins - The Mc's girlfriend will hate this, but seriously, whose gonna throw the ball? Eagles 10 - 0
12. Patriots - After a tremendous almost two thirds of the season, the Eagles hit their first major obstacle in New England. Tom Brady, Donte Stallworth and the D are just too much, and they hand the last undefeated team in football their first L. Eagles 10 - 1
13. Seahawks - Coming off a long trip and taking their first loss, they lay down on a game they should win. Eagles 10 - 2
14. Giants - The Tiki-less Giants are worse than they were a year ago. Eagles 11 - 2
15. Cowboys - No commentary needed. Eagles 12 - 2
16. Saints - Watch out Reggie, Sheldon Brown is waiting for you. Although we'll have the top seed wrapped up at this point, and we'll be playing scrubs. Eagles 12 -3
    
17. Bills - We're going to see this game with Steveo because he's a Bills fan. He's gonna be really sad, even though we're playing scrubs. Eagles 13 -3
    

Ridin' the Deuce Three: The Sexy Post

• OK, now it's time for the sexy stories. The above banner was plastered all over our hotel; you couldn't turn your head without seeing it at least twice. They also had several 40+ ft screens around the hotel that featured a commercial about it on a loop. Now, if you couldn't figure it out by the picture alone, Fantasy was the revue that is performed at the Luxor. Well, by the end of the week, we were intrigued. And not intrigued like mildly interested, intrigued like we had the song memorized and if we didn't see the show, it would drive us crazy that we never saw it. So, we bought tickets and ended up in the sixth row - not too bad. We had the perfect view of titties. The show was terrible; there was some singer chick trying to make it big by covering crappy songs like "Black Velvet" and interacting with the crowd. And she would wear all the same outfits as the girls who got topless, but her top would never come off. Like she was too good or something. Bitch, you're still in a thong showing off your ass, make with the tits already! Also, there was this horrible black comedian that dressed up like Michael Jackson and Sammy Davis Jr. Unfortunately, his whole act revolved around saying "this guys gonna get fucking laid tonight, fuck yeah!" Lame. So, overall the show was mostly a bust, but those chicks were hot, and they had hot busts. That was cool at least.

• After the show, we went back to our room to chill out for awhile. Dennis and Steveo had gone to O'Shea's and gotten drunk. I ended up passing out for two hours, and waking up to an empty room. So I went downstairs and drank and gambled. Therefore, this story does not come from a first hand account. But I've heard enough of it from enough people to know that I've got it pretty straight. Everyone ended up at O'Shea's, doing tequila shots and drinking dollar drafts. Dennis met some creepy guy who offered to shuttle them off to Treasure's (a tit club) and give them free admission and drinks. So, despite the creepiness, everyone decides to go. The place ends up being pretty empty, so they have a lot of whores paying attention to them. Dennis tells a few of them that he is a backup QB for Florida State. (Further proof that all cunts are brain dead - there's no way in hell Dennis could be a back up kicker, let alone a quarterback.) One girl took a liking to him and sat on his lap for at least an hour, until Shawn accidentally dropped his real name, angering the stripper, who then proceeded to storm off. Did she think he was gonna be the foster dad to her kids or something? She's a fucking stripper, what does she care if some guy doesn't give her a real name? It's not like her name is really Chastity. Anyway, the real story revolves around Steveo. The guy is really attached to his girlfriend. She's calling us at 7 am Vegas time, texting back and forth all day, he won't get a mohawk or tattoo because she'd be mad, DEFINITELY won't go see tits because she'd be mad. (To drive this point home, I told him when we got back to the airport that he should get a hold of his girl and take control of his relationship. She simply laughed and told me she thought it was "cute and funny when he tries to put his foot down." Ouch.) Well, apparently they got into a fight and Steve got plastered at O'Sheas. So they go to the strip club... and my boy Steveo falls IN LOVE. One of those nuddie girls just caught his eye and he got that tunnel vision. The other tits might as well have not even been there. This bitch took him upstairs and going by what he told us, she was noodling with his peter, he got to feel her up and suck some nip, and she pretty much dryhumped him to what I'm sure was a premature finish. Needless to say, we were all sworn to secrecy for fear that big bad Mrs. Steveo would find out. Luckily, no one reads this blog.

• This is gonna be the last story I write out for you guys. Alot of other shit happened, but I don't think too much more of it is interesting enough to post about. And to be honest, this is easily my favorite story of the whole trip. The scene: it's the last day before our flight home (at 6am), and we're all back at O'Shea's drinking. We got there about noon, and around 4 we walk back to MGM to watch some sports that Steveo and the Mc bet on. After an hour or two, me and Dennis decide to go back to O'Shea's because we have no action on the day and we wanted more tequila shots. (I fucking love that they salt the rim and drop a lime wedge in. Call me a fag, I don't care.) So we're drinking, taking shots and I'm kicking his ass in pool until around 9 or 10. At that point, we (apparently) stumble back to the hotel and I (apparently) wander around our floor in my underwear for a while. When my conscience comes back around midnight, I'm ready to drink. I don't wanna waste our last night there being a pussy. So I go downstairs, grab a brew and a shot, and head out on the Strip looking for something going on. Just my luck, I run into a couple of drunk broads wandering too. After talking to them for a minute, they invite me to some club they were going to. I have no idea where we went - we could have been in NY, NY at the Coyote Ugly or in the Grand at Studio 54, I don't have a fucking clue. We're dancing, drinking, flirting, fucking having a good time. Around 2:30, the bitch finally tells me she lives in Vegas and has an apartment right around the corner. My natural reaction is to say, "This place is getting kind of lame. Why don't we go to your place for a drink?" She agrees, and the three (or four?) of us grab a cab and head over. We have a couple beers, and she says she's starting to get tired. Her friends have all kind of wandered off to do their own thing, so I pounce like one of those lions after a rope of meat. After some tongue action and a ton of heavy petting, I've got the skirt at her ankles and the thong pushed to the side. I'm coming in from behind, she's bent over top her bed. Then we move to my all time favorite posish - she's sitting on the counter in her bathroom, back against the mirror, and I'm standing in front of her going at it fucking hard. It was glorious. We end up back on the bed (normal missionary, with my arms around her knees, her ankles at her ears), and after awhile I'm about to shoot off, so I take off the rubber and tug it out onto her tits. We say our goodbyes, I grab a road beer, light up a smoke, and after a quick cabride back it's about 4. That means 15 minutes of sleep before my alarm goes off. What fun. But hey, I'm no prick. I'm not about to complain about getting some tight Vegas vag. Anyway, that about wraps up the fun. Hope you enjoyed reading all about our fun in the brightest city in the world. Now start planning your own trip!
  

Ridin' the Deuce Part Duex

• Saw the Bellagio fountains and the Mirage volcano. The volcano was awesome, an orgasm of flying fire and brimstone. They even set the water and the rocks on fire. Sweet. The fountains were also pretty cool, but I don't think they lived up to their potential because the song we saw them playing was that Celine Dion song from the Titanic. So it was kinda hard to get into, but the potential was definitely there. They shoot the water up and light it all to the tune of different songs every time, so we just came at a shitty time, because who wants to hear that bullshit? They really could have done something awesome with it, like "Bulls on Parade," but what can you say? It's a cool idea anyway. We tried to see the naked pirate show at TI twice, but it was canceled due to high winds. What kind of pirates are afraid of a little breeze? Pussies. (ED Note: Officially, it is known as 'Sirens at the TI,' not the naked pirate show. Although that is a good description.)
  

• They put these double decker buses on the Strip that run you up and down all day for five bucks. Sweet deal, cause that Strip is long as fuck. And those damn Mexicans get annoying after awhile. And of course, they name these things the Deuce (what with being double decker and all). Which led to countless pathetic, immature jokes about riding a packed Deuce, or taking a long Deuce up to the Wynn, or a less crowded 'loose Deuce'. Sure, we're completely immature and think like children, but hey, everyone around was laughing with us too. So go fuck yourself.

• We spent a lot of time in the MGM Grand's sportsbook because it was close and a hell of a lot cooler than the Luxor's. At the Luxor, they have one of those giant projection screens that granted, is pretty big, but they don't broadcast in HD and the overall picture is very washed out and dark looking. So we went to MGM where we could get cheap beer from next door in less than two minutes, and they had dozens and dozens of HD flat screens. The best part about that place was watching the lions eat. They kept lions in a glass cage, and you could walk underneath the enclosure and look up at them eating. But they didn't eat some pussy dry formula or anything like that. They fed those bitches fucking ropes of meat. They got raw ass meat, and strung it together into a rope. And you got to watch the lions just tear that shit apart. Not as cool as if they fed them something living, but it was cool as shit watching them rip apart raw meat. (I took a picture of it, but it's grainy and not all that clear, so we're running a stock photo.)

• The second night we were there, we went to this bar called the rumjungle. Which of course, led to cumjungle jokes. But they had the most smoking hot bartender I have ever seen. Now, in Vegas, you can't throw a quarter without hitting one of the hottest girls you've ever seen. This bartender put them all to shame though. Brown hair, about 5'8", tight leather string up vest, maybe 100 lbs, skintight black pants. She kept her lighter and her bottle opener in her pants, so every time she reached for one of them, she pulled her pants down to show her red whale tail. It kept us from leaving the bar at all the entire night. That's not what this story is about though. This is about how Shawn Mc, after two Sailor Jerry and Cokes, decided he wanted to tackle the most alcoholic drink they had - the volcano. Five different rums mixed with some fruity ass juice. Well, the volcano is the strongest drink they have - unless you've been flirting with the smoking hot bartender all night and she throws a shot of Stroh 160 proof rum on top of all that. Needless to say, the Mc couldn't even sign his own tab, I had to forge his name. So while me and Steveo are trying to guide him to our room, he hops on some old guys rascal who's sitting at a craps table. Luckily, we pulled him off before security came and beat his ass, but not without a fight. He was all boozed-up and retard strong, determined to get away with this guys electric scooter. After that near-catastrophe, we carried him by his shoulders and feet to the elevator. Up on the floor, he kept leaning a bit too far over the railing on the way to our tenth floor room of the Luxor; Steveo, in perfect shithead, i'mgonnabeadrunkenhero fashion, took trying to save him from a fall a bit too far. As I told him to go grab Shawn, he takes off down the hallway, lowers his shoulder, and delivers a picture perfect spear that would put Goldberg to shame. The Mc was down and out for a minute - I guess he just got the wind out of him, but at the time I was convinced he was either unconscious or had a broken spine. We finally get Shawn into the room, and our boy Dennis is passed out in bed, drunk and upset from losing several hundred dollars on the night. Armed with this information, Shawn decides it would be great idea to start elbow dropping Dennis. Except that every time he dives onto the bed, Dennis kicks him as hard as he can off the bed, slamming his body into the wall. I swear I thought he would at the least crack a rib he was hitting the wall so hard, especially on top of being drilled in his ribs five minutes before and getting driven to the ground. After being slammed into the wall and falling to the floor about five or six times, he finally couldn't get up anymore, and simply passed out in the one foot space between the wall and Dennis' bed. That leaves me and Steveo downstairs drinking Corona's and Jack & waters, playing blackjack until 5:30. We then moved to the bar, got a few more drinks and won enough at video poker to cover our tab. At that point, it was close to6:30 or 7, and we were getting hungry. This could have been the best part of our hotel - we had a 24 hour McDonalds, with the dollar menu! Finally after eating some burgers, we head up to crash for the night. At this point, Shawn has crawled into the other bed and is out. Before I head to my cot, however, Dennis wakes up and warns us that Shawn got up and pissed all over the floor between the two beds. This leads to the three of us yelling MC Pee Pants and screaming the "I Want Candy" song for at least the next 20 minutes. Finally, we went to crash but Steveo refused to sleep in his bed (which Shawn was in) because he didn't want to get pissed on, and he wouldn't sleep in Dennis' bed because Shawn woke up the night before with Dennis spooning him. So he took two couch cushions and a blanket and slept in the corner of the room all week. No way he that was comfortable. The next morning Shawn woke up with a huge cut/scrape/welt/sore on his elbow... shit was seriously at least halfway up his arm and deep, ugly purple. Not sure if it was from the spear, or getting kicked into the wall repeatedly, or both, but I do know he could barely move his arm that day, and he was pretty hurt all week. And of course he stopped being Shawn Mc and became MC Pee Pants for the rest of the week. All in all, a good night.
  

Ridin' the Deuce

Time for the long awaited, hotly anticipated Vegas post. But before we get to that, some paparazzi friends of mine in Florida happened to run into Black Jesus down there and sent me a picture, so I figured I'd pass it along to you guys. Enjoy!

• Like I said before, the best part of Vegas is the open container law. There is nothing better than walking down the street and having a beer. Or a Jack and water. Or a yard of margarita from La Salsa (translation The Salsa). It is such an inconvenience to have to chug your drink and then be empty for the walk. How refreshing! And the craziest part was that there was never any problems. Everyone was in control, there was no disturbing the peace - the biggest nuisance about all of it was the illegal Mexicans that stood on the corner trying to flap baseball cards with hookers on them at you.

• We had a room at the Luxor - the black pyramid that with the light shooting out the top. It was four of us in the room; Dennis, Shawn Mc, Steveo and myself. I took a cot, Dennis and Shawn shared a bed one night, then each got their own, and Steve eventually wound up on the floor. But I'll get to that story later.
  

• There's nothing better than a $5 blackjack table; unless you sit down and get shelled by some Armenian dealer, who just sits there with this shit eating grin, and doesn't even apologize when he flips a face from under his nine to beat your fucking 18 for the fucking third time in a fucking row. FUCK! At least the free Jack's help.

• As much as you think anything goes in Vegas - and for the record, I didn't see one official cop the whole week - if you go anywhere near a casino, you'll get carded three times before you get within thirty feet of a table. What a pain in the ass. And speaking of age, I couldn't believe the number of kids there. So many parents brought little ass kids to the Strip. How dumb is that? There's nothing for them to do there, and a lot of casinos even have certain restrictions regarding kids. That leaves them with little options to do other than the pool all day. And that week was not exactly poolside weather. The parents, because you can't take your little kids anywhere, have nothing to do either. You can't gamble, you can't drink, you can't even visit the casinos to check them out. Your stuck at the pool. You're in the middle of a desert, and it certainly isn't pool weather in March. Go to fucking Disneyworld you dumb pricks.

• Man, I just got really stoned during Entourage. Part Two tomorrow....
  

All Hail Kevin Durant

It's time that everyone recognizes the meaning of true greatness. Everyone bow to your first ever freshman winner of the Naismith, Adolph Rupp and Oscar Robertson Awards. Kneel before a man who has swept all six Player Of The Year awards. The only player in the top ten nationally for scoring and rebounding. My friends, on this Easter Sunday, as we try to remember all that church crap we forgot about years ago (like WTF is Lent??), I think we have found not just a man, but the true Jesus Christ himself, resurrected - and he was bad ass enough not to have to die first to do it. If only the Sixers hadn't played themselves out of a top 2 draft pick... but oh well, I can dream of luck in the lottery. Let me dream, it's all I have left dammit!

IT'S A PSYCHOBILLY FREAKOUT!

love that little fucks jersey

Random Notes

First off, loyal readers (all none of you), I'd like to say sorry that we've been pretty slow this week. Between school, working and the God known as Guitar Hero II releasing on 360, it's been an involved week. And a TON of shit has happened since we've been gone that I want to comment on, so I'm gonna go with a Shanoff-style bullet point post.

• OK, so Colin Cowherd totally fucked the big lead - I'm not gonna say too much about it because it seems like everyone is in agreement that he was a no talent hack before the incident and that he's a pathetic no talent hack after. Let's just say it sucked to have the big lead gone for 3 days... I could just start getting it to load about an hour ago. It's funny how the Worldwide Leader is so clearly threatened by the growing blog community.

• Billy Donovan stays at Florida, Rick Barnes stays at Texas (they could have taken him), Bob Huggins dips out of K-State, and Billy Gillespie goes to Kentucky. Everyone seems to think he's perfect there because they need recruiting, but let's not cum in our pants just yet. UK needs a lot of work, and Billy isn't gonna start pulling All-Americans out of his ass. As for Huggins, he really couldn't come out of this thing looking good; last year, it seemed like K-State was the only place that would give him a shot and now hes bolting just like that. Hard to fault the guy though. If anyone should be taking the heat that Hugs is, it's Gillespie. He agreed to a contract with A & M, and simply waited just long enough before signing it that he could walk.

• So that jap pitcher for the Sox that everybody seems to love so much looks good. Doubt he'll end up being worth all the money, but I guess the firestorm with the international press will help even some of that out. It'll be interesting to see how he holds up over the year and where he falls in line with guys like Santana and Halladay in the AL. Pay attention after everyone's seen him at least once - that will be the real test.

• In more proof that the media climate is changing, a blogger incited a Major League Baseball investigation into K-Rod. It's funny how the Angels seem irritated that anyone is even giving them shit for this, especially when it's pretty fucking obvious that something is up.
  

• Bill Belichik busted up another marriage. I knew the guy was a lowlife, but I gotta hand it to him. I mean, who seriously would have ever guessed he'd be able to pull two different chicks from their husbands? Shut up, you did not.

• I gotta hand it to A-Rod... he got it done today. Ninth inning, two outs, bases loaded, down one - and he strikes - wait no he hit a game winning grand slam?!? And those pisshead Yankee fans will still boo him next time he grounds out. They're gonna miss him when they boo him into an Angels uniform next year.

• So Tiger Woods stormed back to one behind the leader? That means the jacket is all but his tomorrow.
  

• Have you read Anna Nicole's diary? Jesus Christ, I almost feel bad for her. That bitch was fucking retarded. Not like Miss Howard Stern dumb, but seriously full-on, can't function in reality because your head is a brick type retarded. I think Timmy from South Park could beat her on an IQ test. (And while I'm linking to What Would Tyler Durden Do, here's Sloane from Entourage's nipple. I shouldn't have to mention it's NSFW.)

• As I was watching the Phillies game while typing this I heard a fun fact - Antonio Alfonseca is known as the octopus because he has six fingers on each hand and six toes on each foot. That is fucking gross. I almost threw up in my beer. This image is forever burned in my head, and now yours too.
  

• OK, I feel bad about doing that to you. So here's a little swank to make up for it.

That's it for now. I'm gonna go get five stars on John the Fisherman.

GO GATORS!

Well let's start by informing everyone that I'm going to be in Florida for the next week, sunshine baby sunshine, and while I'm gone its going to be up to JooFace and Shawn Mc, or more likely just JooFace, to hold down the blog. That being said, I'm sure you are in for an, um how do you say it, "interesting" week of NASCAR. By the way, calling out Golf or Tennis or especially Swimming as a fake sport is absolutely ridiculous. I mean, there is no athletic ability necessary and the sport was born in the deep south so its not like it has the qualifications of being a skill sport either. The only thing that is entertaining is the crashes but I could just Youtube those the next day. Enjoy watching cars drive in circles!

Is there anything better than being right? I love the fact that my favorite team, Gators BABY, just won back-to-back National Championships and went ahead and threw a Football Championship in there as well. Corey Brewer, Al Horford and Lee "GOD" Humphries hit every big shot to completely demoralize Ohio State the entire game. Although Oden nearly caused the entire Florida frontcourt to foul out, he obviously ran out of gas towards the end of the game and was stuck with teammates who could not hit a three to save their life. I personally love the fact that we have crushed the Ohio State University in the past two major college championship games and changed their nickname to THE SECOND PLACE UNIVERSITY! Anyways, I've pretty much come to the conclusion that Billy Donovan is going to leave for Kentucky and we're going to shrivle back to the east coast version of UCLA, but thats okay with me because we just won back-to-back championships! Therefore, I'm leaving you with a list of 50 reasons why I like the number 2.

1. Back-to-Back titles are so sweet!
2. It's the number for poop.
3. It's the number of championships won by both Florida's basketball and football programs.
4. It's 2 more championships than any Philadelphia sports team since 1983.
5. It's Derek Jeter's number, but he Hates Gay-Rod so he earns a little respect.
6. Wow, just for the record, Keith Richards snorted his dad's ashes? Weird. That has to be fake. http://www.wtopnews.com/?sid=1105822&nid=114. Wow, doesn't he look fucking old? I'm too young to remember differently but If I see Dave Groehl looking like that in 20 years then I'm going to rescind my desire to be a rock star. Wait, no I wont, I want to be a fucking rockstar, I bet he still gets some hot ass. He probably does have to pay for it though.
7. Did you know that Tom Brady has 2 Illegitimate Children, he's just like one of us. Are there any legitimate children in professional sports?
8. Michael Ray Richardson has now been kicked out of 2 basketball leagues.
9. 2 is 1/4 of the number of gold medals that Phelps will win in the next Olympics.
10. 2 is also 3 championships less than America's Team. Go Cowboys.

Okay so I really didn't care after number 1 but fuck you I'm going to Florida. One last warning, if you find yourself reading a Jooish post about NASCAR and pondering why you are debating the athletic ability necessary in racing cars, always remember that you should probably kill yourself.

*Also, According to Sports Business Journal, Tiger Woods is the most marketable athlete in professional sports. So much for no face time.

Swimming is a Crock of Shit

OK I can't sit here and take this any longer. Jesus just wrote an entire full length post about fucking swimming. No way in hell could I let that shit go down. Nobody gives a fuck that some drunk driving asshole won a couple races in some event that isn't even the Olympics. No one even cares when it IS the Olympics, check the Nielsen's. So what if this douchebag maybe jumped early, but maybe he didn't, and some other buttplug didn't win because of it and all this nonsense stopped him from dominating a sport that no one cares about? Look at Roger Federer - just as dominant, but he plays tennis so no one cares. Even Tiger Woods gets hardly any face time when he wins five or six tournaments in a row - NO ONE CARES ABOUT THESE FAKE ASS SPORTS. Time to bring back the entertainment.

Today is a really solid day of sports. The Pheonix - Dallas games carry alot of stories and subplots, even if this one was somewhat less dramatic. And while I could care less about watching the Cardinals or the Mets, it does signal the start of baseball again which is fucking great. Plus Wrestlemania is tonight... I'll be downloading that one tomorrow.


The best sports event today, however was hands down the Goody's Cool Orange 500 in Martinsville, Virginia. In a race full of cautions (13 in all) and even a red flag rain delay, you still couldn't have asked for more excitement. Cars were loose all day as everyone is adjusting to the Car of Tomorrow. The fastest car on the track could come into pit road and lose all of it's advantage. Even when Jimmie Johnson took off for the last 100+ laps, it was still anyone's race. The whole thing was an edge of your seat affair, especially after the red flag when the track was slick and the rubber wasn't gripping as well. Every turn was a spin out waiting to happen. And in the end, it came down to teammates Jimmie Johnson and Jeff Gordon running 1 - 2.

After the restart, it was clear that neither of them would be challenged by the rest of the pack. With 18 laps left, they were going green again and Gordon was clearly looking to take the inside. He tried through every turn to get the inside, but Jimmie fought him off every time. It was obvious he was going to have to take Jimmie out of the way. But he wouldn't do it. He was clearly bumping him on every turn, but he never really got into Jimmie's side. He was driving clean and respectable against not just a teammate, but a prodigy he mentored himself. Had Gordon not brought Jimmie up through the Hendricks Racing ranks, he might not have made it to the big time. With every passing turn and every lap ticking closer to the checkered flag, Jeff was clearly tempted. He could have easily spun Jimmie and the race would have been his. Finally on the last turn of the dance he had to do something - and he did. He did the only thing he could have done - he got under Jimmie and bumped him twice. He tried to move him out of the way, but when it didn't work, he backed off before he took either of them out of it. He let his teammate take the flag and in the process showed the sportsmanship and wisdom too often missing from sports. He had respect for the man ahead of him, and he knew bickering within the same ownership would only cause trouble for both of them for the rest of the season. In the end, he chose the smart route, taking the second most points out of Virginia. And even though you could see the frustration on his face as Jimmie was given the Ridgeway clock - you can see he was able to justify this near photo finish.


I'm sure that plenty of people just like me were psyched up for the Final Four yesterday - and then were fucking embarrassed by the level of play and the way both games unfolded. GT and OSU was completely underwhelming as Oden got in foul trouble early, and he and Hibbert barely played directly against each other. And Florida sleepwalked through a game that UCLA just plain slept through. The Gators looked like they could care less, and if they play like that tomorrow, they won't repeat. And if that happens, I'll be incredibly happy because the Black Jesus is an avid and completely obnoxious Gator fan. If they win tomorrow, I may just have to kill him, leaving this blog with only one actual contributor. Although that might be good for the readers - especially the ones who appreciate good grammar and intellectually structured sentences.

I didn't watch any of the baseball game, but it looks like the Mets have it all wrapped up in the 9th. Fuck. Oh well. They still have no chance - it's the Phillies year. When their pitching falls apart in two months, they'll have zero fucking chance.

I should be back mid-day tomorrow with a Vegas post but as always I don't promise anything. I may even try a running diary for the game, with of course a break for 24, but don't get your panties in a bunch. I might not be that motivated yet.