It Looks Like The Vick Jerseys Are On Back Order

Oops.

Best Uniforms...Ever?

The Lehigh Valley IronPigs just became my "Team B" in minor league baseball, obv. behind the Mud Hens. Choice?

Pens 4 - Wings 3... Damn

// Going into the series, I thought that Anaheim was better than Pittsburgh. Not by a huge margin, because I thought Pittsburgh would be tough, but thought the Ducks were better. After the first two games, even though Detroit won both by a couple goals, I changed my mind on that.

// Anaheim was the more physical team, but throughout this series, I was really impressed with the defense of Pittsburgh. They played the passing lanes incredibly well, played the puck great along the boards and won a lot of the little stick-battles for the puck, and blocked a ton of shots. I think they forced Detroit into more offsides in this one series than they had in the previous three combined. They pressured on the other end very hard, but did it without being reckless the way that Chicago was.

// Just to sort of demonstrate the point on their defense - I think that Fleury started looking shaky a couple minutes before Detroit scored their first goal, misplaying a couple pucks and giving up big rebounds. And Ericsson’s goal was a bad, bad goal to give up. Then he got beat on Kronwall’s shot that hit the crossbar. But after the goal, how many saves did he actually have to make in the final six minutes, prior to the final five seconds? Virtually none. And that was with Detroit pressuring a lot. The shots just weren't getting through to him.

// Don't get me wrong, I think for all their talent that Malkin played like a punk at times and Cindy Crosby is a little girl, but the team as a whole deserves credit for what they accomplished.

// And not saying that Pittsburgh was necessarily more deserving than Detroit. The Wings had opportunities that they didn't capitalize on in Game 7 and the previous game. And maybe having Datsyuk could have tipped game three or four in their favor. Still, I just think it was a series where they were very evenly matched, but only one team can win it...

// Still don’t like Pittsburgh. No choice.

Oh Detroit... The Lions 2009 NFL Draft

// The Lions did have a lot of needs. QB, OL, DL, LB, S...essentially every position on the team save WR. In that respect, people were correct in saying that Detroit could take almost anyone and it would fill a hole. However, good teams--teams that win consistently--start from the trenches. This is as true on the college level as it is in the NFL. There is a reason why Michigan went 40 years without a losing season and why the Lions have gone 50 without winning a title, and generally being uncompetitive throughout most of that span; the disparity in the quality of their lines. UofM always had good lines, while the Lions had poor to merely average.

// The closest the Lions ever came to having a great line that I can remember was with the Eric Andolsek-Mike Utley-Lomas Brown core. When we were kids in the early 90s, that was a promising line. But then Utley was crippled in a game and Andolsek was killed by a semi in his yard. The Lions haven't come close to fielding a good line since. I admit that the comparison is flawed. The differences in competition at the college level can be wide ranging. But there is no doubt what the recipe for success was in Ann Arbor--a strong, powerful run attack based on superior OL play along with a fierce, technically sound and physically punishing defense. Not coincidentally, the Steelers of the 70s won with the same formula. The best teams still win with that formula.

// We were lead to believe, first under Rod Marinelli and now Jim Schwartz, that the Lions were going to "pound the rock". Well, in order to pound the rock you need the road graters to punish the defense. The Lions did nothing to address that. The one OT they took is considered a "finesse" tackle. The Lions had guys within their reach who could have made this team better now. Specifically, Michael Oher at 20. They could have found a quality guard in the third round to pair with the OT and thus solidified their line.

// Despite my feelings on Curry’s future, they could have taken Stafford, drafted Oher, and taken Duke Robinson in the 4th round. They would have been far better off doing that than taking a TE at 20, an OLB who had a 5th-round-grade in the 3rd and who will have to be converted to MLB, as well as a WR in the 3rd. The Lions should have said "we cannot fill all the holes now, so let's follow a proven formula and build our lines." That at least is understandable. We know that it’s not realistic for them to become a solid team in one draft. Alas, what we got was the same nonsensical approach to drafting that we have seen from the Lions for ages.

// With that said, I’ll leave you with some Banks to get ready for a strong Saturday night.

If Tyler Hansbrough was a Cat, He'd Look Like This...

// Does Tyler Hansbrough always look confused?

// Two teams left in college basketball. Michigan State and North Carolina. Well it’s halftime and it’s not looking good for Sparty. But there’s no way Carolina can keep shooting like this…right? We’ll find out.

// Two things:

1) I swear that the bookies always know what they are doing. I found out that the line was inflated despite a lot of people betting on the crew from East Lansing. Even I fell for the trick. A -7.5 spread seemed way too large for a championship game in the underdog’s backyard. But here’s what I’m thinking. State’s going to make a game out of this in the second half. No choice.

2) Sure the true Big Ten fans are pulling for MSU. But I feel that a lot of the country wants Michigan State to win this one. The state of Michigan deserves some good news. The state unemployment rate is 12%. The city of Detroit is 22%. 65% of Detroit retailers don’t think any of the bailout money will even matter. The Lions are the worst NFL team. The Pistons suddenly stink. The city and state are reeling. It was another harsh winter. Season ticket sales for the Tigers plunged 44%. The president essentially fired the head of GM. The auto industry is toast. Chrysler could print money in their basement and they would still be broke for the next 20 years. Ethically and morally, we have to root for Michigan State.

// So here comes the final 20 minutes. Do work Sparty.

Follow it Up

To Follow my last post up: Here is a list of the worst 10 tv shows currently on. I wrote my prior post before seeing what is #1. Other than that I haven't seen any of these shows, I've heard 'Knight Rider' sucks, Heroes was only good for the first season, I've seen about 5 mins of 'The Hills', which is 20 mins too much. Frankly, I'm surprised 'Frank TV' got resigned (PUN!). 'Last Call with Carson Daily' Blah, 'Mind of Mencia' Double Blah....

Late Night with Jimmy Fallon: EPIC FAIL

// I'll be honest, I never liked Jimmy Fallon. I always thought that he was cocky, arrogant, basically not funny, and constantly broke character on SNL to beg for laughter. I understand why most people liked him, he had that cuteness factor to him where he was basically saying 'I have no idea what's going on but it's pretty funny!!!!. I get why someone would laugh at this the first time, but to continue to do so is beyond me. Jimmy Fallon, to me, represents the antichrist. Honestly if you look at what skits and movies he has been in, he might as well directed every single 'Scary Movie', 'Epic Movie’, and 'Disaster Movie'. My point being is the people that like these movies will love the new Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, because after every joke that Fallon makes during the monologue deserves a forced laughter.

// Let’s not lie, Conan’s monologues were never that good, and often did not deserve laughter, if any, but it was the way that he delivered it that made it funny. Jimmy Fallon has no experience in this, he is used to the “AUDIENCE” sign coming on after his horribly delivered jokes, in which if no one laughed he would start laughing to start making everyone else laugh, because hey laughing is funny!. It is if Fallon knows that his jokes are bad, but is not willing to submit, as Conan did, to how bad of a joke it is. This smartass (I don’t know how else to categorize it) way to tell jokes is not going to work out for him. The following at Late Night is going to give him a couple passes at first to allow him to get his bearings, but they won’t allow to much bullshit, allow me to explain.

// Tonight, I watched the premier episode of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, and felt awkward. While Fallon was delivering his monologue I felt bad for him, I’ve noticed throughout time that I can notice when someone is publicly speaking nervously, and Fallon definitely was. By that, I mean that he was constantly bringing his finger up to wipe his nose, shaking his head, hesitating his words, and giving uncomfortable laughs for approval. I literally felt bad for him, which I’m guessing is not what a new late night show host is striving for. He no longer had that ‘forced laughter’ that basically made him as big of a star as he is. He is now in the stratosphere of actually delivering on jokes (which he is clearly bad at), because that’s the only reason people watch the Late Night show.

// His monologue was to the point of badness that I felt bad for him. The jokes weren’t that bad, I actually think that he has the same writers as Conan, but who knows, I’m too lazy to look it up, but it was just how he delivered him that made me feel bad for him. He basically looked at the TV screen and begged for approval. In which I replied, “Stop looking at me!” The worst part was when he got a legitimate big time star for an interview, Mr. Robert De Niro.

// Fallon: Oh man, (hand up to face) you have no idea what this means to me that you are here.
// Robert De Niro: Yeah…. Well…..
// Fallon: (hand to face) do you realize how big you are?!?!?
// Robert De Niro: Yeah…
// Fallon: (Laughing like a school girl)
// Rober De Niro: (Uncomfortably) So you got any questions?)
// Fallon: HeHeHeHaHaHa
// Robert De Niro: …………………………..
// Fallon: (Still laughing like a school girl) how cool are you??

// That’s about as much as I could watch, maybe he had better questions for Justin Timberlake, but I thank there on the same level.

// Hopefully this does not set a new precedence on Late Night of being a complete douch to the guest and making them feel uncomfortable. I hope that we can take Jimmy Fallon’s training wheels off now, but who fucking knows. All that I know is that I'm not going to waste anymore time watching Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.

S'job Yanks

// I should start by saying that at a young age, some of my best memories went down at the corner of Michigan and Trumbull. Tiger Stadium. Sometimes Pops would take me down for a nightcap and we’d watch Cecil Fielder hit one over the roof (following a burger at Nemos). Or when it was a hot afternoon in July, I would head down there with John Nechiporchik and we’d watch the early-90s Tigs beat up a Central-division rival. And Mike took me to the last game at the stadium, after 88 historical years, where we saw the Tigers mow down the Royals. Strong.

// But, for those in the organization with the deep pockets (i.e. Ilitch), it was time for a change. It was the new millennium, the Tigers were down, and this was a way to get fans back in the ballpark. On one hand, I don’t blame him. There were tons of empty seats in those days. But, as we were told in the press releases, the stadium was breaking down. And just as importantly, there were a lot of “Obstructed View” seats. The pillars, which were built to support the overhanging roof, blocked the viewers’ sightlines in multiple sections. Problem solved: It’s impossible to have a bad seat in Comerica Park.

// So why did I just give you a brief rundown of the old Tiger Stadium? The higher-ups in the Bronx clearly did not take notes. In about a month, the Yankees will open up their new stadium across the street from the House that Ruth Built. While the rest of the country feels the hurting economy, the Yanks have jacked up ticket prices in efforts to pay for their new ballpark.

// However, the price of watching a game for some tickets dropped last week. The obstructed-view seats have gone from $12 to $5, which applies to about 700 seats at the new Yankee stadium. They’ll be sold for $5. So let’s think about this... They spent $8 billion on their new stadium, and they still have 700 obstructed-view seats? That’s like if the Yankees built a car, they’d put the steering wheel in shotgun. Or lets look at this another way. If you go out and rent an apartment, and it costs $800 a month (damn Chicago rents), it probably won’t be perfect. There might be a quirky kitchen…or the bathroom might be a little cramped. But if you spend $1,500 for an apartment, you don’t want the toilet in the living room. Forget the Yankees free agent acquisitions, they can’t even build a stadium right. They have the best architects in the world at their disposal, and they have 700 seats where you can’t see the mound. There’s no other way to say it. If you can’t see the game…why go to the game? If you go down to the stadium with the guys, staring at a pole for three hours isn’t cutting it. I’d rather just stay home in my boxers and drink cheaper beers. Between this and the A-Roid story, I’m seeing a tough ’09 for the Yanks.

// That’s all I got. Have a greasy week. I’ll leave you with this…..

Anyone Up For Depressing Stories?

// I probably couldn't have picked a worser time to take one of my unannounced sabbaticals, but this is just another example of Alanis Morissette's words ringing true. Isn't it ironic? Non-work work (more on that later) always seems to pile up at the exact moment a platter of big news is set on the lazy Susan. Granted, I haven't exactly been chomping at the bit to sit down and find the time to throw in my pennies; the time for me to write has been there, but every time my mind grapes begin to mature, an irresistible distraction shows itself and puts the kibosh on the harvest.

In past instances of this I'd offer a mea culpa. I'm switching up the order and coming right out with it: an apology won't be happening this time around. In truth, I've never actually been sorry when I've ceased posting for weeks at a time. Looking back, it seems almost silly that I've apologized before. I don't even know why I ever wrote, "Sorry for not posting." Is it just "something to say", like when people greet each other with, "How's it going?" and they don't even await the response? And what am I sorry about? Not sharing? Is me not writing a violation of the "nice people always share" edict that was handed down to me from Mrs. DeFran in 1990? These are my thoughts. In times past I've been writing them down as soon as they've entered my noggin. That behavior will be curbed. Posts now will come at a more incidental pace, like if I was on a parade float and only threw candy at good looking women. If something comes up that merits a legitimate attempt, I'll hit it. Otherwise, I'll occupy my time with my other endeavors, ones that don't include feeble attempts at eloquence designed to mask dick jokes. Moving on...

// Like I said, many noteworthy news items have passed with nary a comment from the best blog on the internet. We're going to attempt to touch them all, so this post is likely going to be lengthy. First on the docket is Mike Phelps. Oh, Mikey. Let's peel that onion.

The more I thought about Phelps and his herbal snafu, the more I got this strangely familiar feeling of being scolded myself. Let me explain. Back in my elementary, middle and partly high school days, I was very, very hyperactive. My learning tendencies led to me to many hours of daily boredom. Ever since I can remember, grasping a new subject has come lightning fast to me. I could hear a lesson once and file it away. I knew it'd always be there if I needed it. I was very blessed with something that was a very fortunate gift to have... much later in life. During the roaring 90s in the Grosse Ile public school system - where repetition repetition repetition repetition was the order of the day - the boredom was excruciating. Out of the ~8 hours in a school day, I spent 7.75 of them inside my own brain. Having the attention span of an espresso-soaked flea made those daily doldrums unbearable. That, combined with my daily bids for attention/validation from my classmates, landed me in the principal's office at about a .900 clip.

So why does my school days remind me of Phelps? It's the pundits I hear chastising him. They sound exactly like my parents in the early 90s. Dumbfounded, yes. Disappointed, somewhat. Mostly, there's just a sense of exasperation. See, I never got in trouble for malicious stuff. I was too small to beat up anyone. I never stuck a thumb on Mrs. Rebeschini's chair. It wasn't my style. Without exception, my offenses were summarized with phrases like "unable to focus on daily assignments" and "unwilling to follow class procedures". The reaction at home was always of the "you've got it easy why are you screwing it up?" ilk. That's what Phelps is getting. In a way, his situation almost makes me nostalgic.

As far as personal judgment, I pass none on Michael Phelps. This entire incident - in which he was smoking a little weed ON AN EFFING COLLEGE CAMPUS - is a crystal-clear illustration on how out of whack this country's priorities are concerning the transgressions of our celebrities. I have many more opinions on the criminalization (and the social stigma) of marijuana. I'll save you the time and about 100,000 words for the future. The only question I have left is this: where was this outrage when he pled guilty to driving while impaired? Seriously! He was hitting a bong load at a party. He gets suspended from swimming? He gets yanked from Kellogg's? Here's the logic that comes out of this. Smoking some weed at a private party = a really, really awful thing to do. Getting drunk and driving my car down the boulevard = not nearly as bad. Stepping into Kellogg's shoes: while I really dislike what they did, I can understand why they did it, and that's what wrong with the public. The stigma around reefer is unconscionable. What kills more people every year, pot or drunk driving? What causes more families to be in pain, pot or drunk driving? What causes millions more dollars in damage every year, pot or drunk driving? I get really frustrated when I see this kind of reaction to marijuana use when only years before, THE SAME EFFING GUY pled guilty to drunk driving and was completely admonished shortly thereafter. Ugh.

// Speaking of drugs and sports heroes, my thoughts on Alex Rodriguez and his use of performance enhancing drugs are much more concise. By the way, we've got to come up with a more easily-wielded phrase than "performance enhancing drugs." I don't really know why I'm sick of hearing it, I just am. I mean, it's definitely an accurate phrase, and I usually go for that sort of thing, but we need to get something shorter. Getting back to it, the whole thing for me shakes down like this: moderately disappointing. Was I shocked? No. The sad state of affairs is that nobody's been above suspicion for a long time now. This incident just galvanized that fact. What's more sad to me is that these greedy steroid-using pricks are ruining the game, further cementing its second-tier status to our now-true national pastime, football. I love baseball, but it will never ever again be as sacred it was when our Dads were growing up. I don't like to think about this too much.

// Lately, an even more (at least for me) heartbreaking news item has been dominating the media: Chris Brown's domestic abuse of Rihanna. This one really took the wind out of my sails for so many reasons. I like Rihanna. I like Chris Brown. I liked them being a couple. Not only that, but I really dig Chris Brown's music. He has sooo much talent; his dancing and singing really remind me of Michael in his hey. If that weren't enough, I really liked him as a personality. He came across so polished and genuine in his appearances. Sure he was a bit cocky, but not in a way that made you want to punch him like Ne-Yo. It was more of a fun kind of cocky, like Isiah Thomas. When the initial shock passes, we're left wondering why did he did this. Fights between boyfriends and girlfriends aren't rare, and sure, sometimes they get very heated. It'd be prudent to say that on occasion a person's emotions run so high that their judgment takes a 15th row seat to their rage. That can happen to almost anybody -- we're all human. But there's allegations that he was choking her until she passed out! If you're choking someone so hard that they pass out, it had better be in 100% cut-and-dry self defense. It's hard to imagine that Chris Brown needed to defend himself with that much gusto. Gosh, the more I type about this the more I realize why I (subconsciously?) didn't want to. I'm getting pretty bummed out.

// I'm ending earlier than I had planned, but let's end on an uplifting/redeeming note! I finally saw Frost/Nixon yesterday, thus completing my Academy Award-nominated movie viewing blitz (minus Vicky Cristina Barcelona and Rachel Getting Married because I decided last year that I'd pay zero attention to the Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress categories after Tilda Swinton won Supporting last year and Cate Blanchett was robbed of Best Actress). The Oscars this year were great. The ceremony was really fun to watch, especially the new way they presented the acting awards with past winners complimenting the performances. I also thought Hugh Jackman did an awesome job hosting. I had no idea he could sing and dance so well.

In years past, I've really disagreed with the Best Picture selection. I thought Michael Clayton - despite Tilda Swinton - was far and away the best movie in last year's ceremony. I thought The Aviator was better than Million Dollar Baby. It's not like I harbor any real resentment. After all, although I really really love movies and everything about them, I'm far from a legitimately credible critic.

That being said, it was nice to finally agree with the Academy's decision on Best Picture. If you haven't seen Slumdog, you really should go see it tonight. I mean it. It's such a wonderful movie. When Miggy and I break down TV and movies via email as we often do, our critiques almost always boil down to one central question: to what extent does what you're watching evoke emotions? It's why I like The Dark Knight so much (which should've been nominated 5 billion times before Benny Button). That movie made me feel extremely tense and actually a little bit frightened. The Office is the same way. Sometimes when I watch that show, I feel so awkward and uncomfortable that I will literally cringe and divert my eyes from the screen for some respite. I've never been ashamed to admit it: I always cry at the endings of Rudy and Field of Dreams. These are the things that stick with you and become pleasures to watch in nearly every way. I promise you'll get similar effects when viewing Slumdog Millionaire. Even though the plot points are well-known to just about everybody by now, I won't ruin anything else by yammering on. Just trust me and see the movie. It's definitely the best movie of the year.

// Peace out.

Science That Matters

// Hey, look! I've improved the Snuggie! See, my Snuggie isn't the same as everyone else's. Mine wraps around the entire body and has my college's name written on it. Also, mine is extremely portable. Sometimes, I'll even wear it at work - all day - and no one will say a thing! Isn't that awesome?

// I did myself a little shopping this past Friday. It was a retail therapy kind of thing. Lately, I've been winning the game of life and I decided to go sick. I ended up with some incense and a copy of GQ. Nevertheless, it was a nice little afternoon. While walking up and down Grand River Avenue, some inspiration struck me. Not "million dollar idea"-type inspiration, but still. It started with an iota of personal terror. I was listening to The B.S. Report podcast and enjoying a robust chat between Bill Simmons and SNL's Seth Meyers. (By the way, if you're not already getting down with 3-4 good podcasts, I highly suggest you start. There are soooo many great podcasts out there. They'll really augment your daily enjoyment.) So I'm listening to the podcast and the two entertainers are cracking wise about the show. Simmons said something particularly funny - I can't recall exactly what - and before I could recoil, a big idiot smile charged onto my face. It took me about three seconds to reel it in and another 5 minutes to calm down. Why? Because I have a weird thing about looking like a simp in front of everyday passersby. It's one thing to do something dumb in front of friends or family. I have no problem with that. In fact, I do it on purpose, and quite often. For whatever reason, I fear looking like a moron in front of complete strangers; people I've never seen before and will likely never see again. I'm not sure why that is. My brief personal moment of abject terror aside, I took away a valuable, if otherwise inapplicable lesson: don't listen to something that will make you laugh when you don't want to be seen laughing. The rule can also apply when I'm listening to Michael Jackson, whose ridiculously awesome songs always seem to make me dance embarrassingly. Countless times I've caught myself ambiguously grabbing my crotch in very public forums. Not good times.

Anyways, let's hit the inspiration I received. I would like a device that could eavesdrop on other people's iPods. Wouldn't that be fun? Not only would I like it for listening to other people's iPods, but I think I would enjoy knowing that other nearby people are potentially eavesdropping in on my iPod. I can imagine sitting on a bar patio and giving an occasional Broseph the patented "ess-eating-grin-with-subtle-acknowledging-nod" when I like a song the Broseph is jamming to.

I also like the idea of iPod eavesdropping (iDropping?) because of the effect it would have on our understanding of stereotypes. You see, I have two distinct thoughts concerning stereotypes. For starters, I love it when a stereotype is proven true. Miggy and I went down to Atlanta this past summer to visit our buddy J$. Our first night there, we experienced Buckhead's fairly robust bar scene. The stereotypical payoff? Every single guy there looked like one of those idiots from MTV's Two-a-Days. The silly hair, the complete lack of dress sense, the constant look of exhaustion; it was all coming out quicker than a post-Taco Bell dook, and I couldn't help but be amused when everyone I saw looked exactly how I'd imagined they would. By the flip side of the coin, it's also somewhat satisfying when a stereotype is debunked. A nice example of this can be found in the movie Finding Forrester. I'm referring to the scene in which Jamal approaches Forrester's assistant guy in the projects and the assistant reacts as if Jamal is eyeing his BMW for a gank. Jamal then procedes, quite cockily, to display his intellectual feathers and school the assistant guy on the history of BMW before adding for good measure, "...but you probably know that 'cuz you lease one." OOOOOHHHH!!!!! It was a good scene and it illustrates the point quite well. So stereotypes can be fun in both ways.

As far as iDropping goes, imagine the potential fun to be had when applying stereotypes! Picture this: you're outdoors, enjoying a nice wheat beer on one of those perfect early spring afternoons. Ah, what have we here? Down the sidewalk comes a very proper looking young lady. She's got the cardigan buttoned up, the 60-year-old librarian glasses, her hair in a tight ponytail; she really personifies conservative. Wouldn't it be weirdly neat if she was listening to something like 2 Live Crew or DJ Assault? Stereotype debunked! With authority! By the same token, wouldn't it be cool to witness a guy trying his hardest to look like Gavin DeGraw actually listening to Gavin DeGraw? Stereotype confirmed! I really wish someone would invent this. I'd stay out every night till 3 just checking people. Dare to dream...

// I've touched on it before, but I'd like to reiterate: I'm very interested in names. I like the thought process behind naming children. I like the responses certain names seem to elicit. I realize it's kind of a weird thing to be engrossed by, but such is life. I've recently found myself in a bit of a quandary. I'll preface what I'm about to say with something I believe to be inevitable: I'm going to sire only girls. I've always believed that fate has an acute sense of irony. Ergo me, a young man who loves his own last name and says it constantly to anyone within earshot, will not beget any sons to carry on the glorious surname. I've accepted this as fact. Anyways, a while ago my fascination with names inevitably led me to conjure up my choices for my own future brood. Keeping in mind the female makeup, I came up with the following (in order and I'm shutting down the factory if I'm lucky enough to get 3): Layla, Scarlet, Sheila. The reasons are pretty simple: Layla and Sheila are homages to the (Eric Clapton and Ready For The World, respectively) songs and Scarlet is my favorite color. I think they're great names, but fear is causing hesitation. My fear is that I'm not using my brain enough to consider all the potential ways the names can be marred and mangled into (sexual) puns. I don't want some future version of Booger from Revenge of the Nerds making sex jokes about my daughters. The last thing 40-year-old Mike needs is another assault charge, and by now it should be well known: I don't play. So, dear readers, if you would be so kind, can you please ponder potential zingers that make fun of my future daughters names? I'd very much appreciate the effort.

// Aw, Baby... Link Dump.
+ This Is Why You're Fat. Not too long ago, I might have pleasured myself to this site. Good times.
+ NSFW. A joystick that uses your own penis as the interface. The reason this post is titled what it is.
+ New Era Fantastic Four Pack. The Invisible Woman one is the coolest, with half the hat made to look like it's transparent.
+ Now here is something very interesting. Video games made to look like yesteryear's book covers. Huh.
+ Shark Fin Ice Tray. These would be perfect for a Buffett concert. Maybe I just wanted to brag that I'm going to a Buffett concert this summer.
+ An Amazon Customer Review of a Pen. In the same vein of this review of Dunston Checks In. I like the idea of leaving little jokes on the internet that people may or may not find.

// Hasta luego.

The Snuggie?

And With The First Pick In The 2009 NFL Draft, The Detroit Lions Select.....

// It’s extremely early, but I’ve already seen about ten mock drafts for the big NFL event in April. At the same time, the Lions owner has finally become the CEO that fired the guy behind the mess and hired a new front office. He also brought in a new coach. So we’re heading in the right direction. After we load up on talent in the draft, we’re going to witness the greatest turnaround ever in 2009. America loves comeback stories. The Lions will be the featured presentation come fall. (We can dream can’t we?)

// So how do I think the Leos should approach the draft? DO NOT worry about offense. You have a dependable running back and the best receiver in the NFL. Give Stanton some reps in training cap and pray he develops. The Lions brought in Jim Schwartz. He’s a defensive-minded guy, so let’s give him the tools to build his team.

// After consulting with Mike, I’m going against every mock draft site on the net.

1. Aaron Curry (LB): Beast. He’s the cornerstone of your defense for the next ten years. Ernie Sims would no longer get double-teamed by the left-guard/center every play. And Larry Foote wants to come home to Detroit post-Super Bowl. Draft Curry and you just solidified one of the top LB-trios in the NFL.
20. Michael Johnson (DE): Same build as Julius Peppers and Mario Williams. He would complement a developing Cliff Avril and could be a force off the edge. The opposing quarterbacks would no longer be able flip steaks in the backfield and then deliver a 60-yard post for six. Tyson Jackson would also suffice at 20.
33. Alphonso Smith (CB): The secondary was shredded last year. Get Curry’s buddy from Wake Forest and add a premier corner that has ball skills. I honestly can’t remember the Lions’ corners making an interception last year. Dammit.

// Would these picks be considered a little risky? Youknowit. But after going offense in the first rounds of years past, it’s time to think about what Matt Millen did, and go in the exact opposite direction. If the Lions front office doesn’t listen to me? I won’t be that upset. Getting Stafford could be the answer. Nobody really knows. But I’ll say this… I know who they should avoid.

// Let me preface this story. When you meet a girl at the bar, talk about her life, and she says “All my ex’s are crazy!”, avoid that girl like the plague. Similarly, if you’re a general manager in sports, there’s certain types of players you don't want anything to do with.

// In the NBA, avoid the seven-kids-from-six-moms power forward and the I-tattoed-my-shoes-logo-on-the-side-of-my-head shooting guard. In major league baseball, avoid the recent-arm-issues-and-once-won-21-games-in-the-AL-West free agent pitcher. Additionally, never go after the I-use-flaxseed-oil-and-currently-have-back-acne slugger. In the NFL, it’s even easier. Avoid the I-scored-a-six-on-my-first-Wonderlic-test quarterback. Stay away from the pitbulls-are-my-children-and-those-treadmills-in-my-garage-are-for-humans-not-dogs QB. And finally, steer clear of the I-make-it-rain-at-Cheetah’s defensive back.

// With that being said, I sincerely hope that the Lions do not draft Michael Crabtree. We do not need another I-love-me-some-me wide receiver. If they do, this guy should prepare to add 2009 to his right pec.

MNStream: Full Strength

// The above image conveys the message "those aren't women." Pretty clever, no? Check the rest out at this catalog of Modern Hobo Code.

// Let's not mix words. This was already the best site on the internet. Even when we weren't updating for months at a time, we were still thinking better than all of those other run-of-the-mill rhetoric factories. Then - as if ordained by The Big Man - we come back full force with an additional two starters? To quote Jimmy Johnson, "That's one reason for the domination." Mig and Slop-Bucket turn an already formidable trifecta into a starting five that definitely opens the season as an overwhelming favorite. After all, the Celtics wouldn't have beaten the Pistons last year without Rondo and Perkins. I'm just saying. To Mig and Slop-B: get it on.

// The last two times I've gone to Meijer, the greeter has failed to greet me. Both times I thought to myself, "What is that?" It's not as if they were deep into a conversation about the foreign currency markets. Both greeters were just standing there, by themselves, armed with a thousand-yard stare. Eye contact, slight nod, paused stroll; I utilized every method I knew to elicit some sort of salutation. Alas, my efforts proved futile. At this point, why is there a greeter being employed at all? Furthermore, if they're shirking their sole responsibility of greeting, what does their job title transform into? Stander? Human? Wet Noodle With a Heartbeat? The next time I go into Meijer - or for that matter, any store that employs a greeter - and I don't receive the expected hello, I'm going to engage the greeter in a super-close-quarters conversation detailing my predictions for the coming week's weather. One thing you can be sure of: when I'm the customer, those employees are going to earn every effing penny of that hourly wage.

// I really like most pop music. It's not even a guilty pleasure. I feel no guilt. I like to dance, so what? Are you going to bust my chops for dancing? Go listen to the Staind album and think about the next "snarling dragon" design you're going to draw on your backpack with a Bic pen, jackass. The point is I like most pop music. One exception, however, is Katy Perry. One of my least favorite musical acts since I've been alive is Pink (she sometimes spells it P!nk because she's close to the street, and that's how the kids are spelling it these days). The reason I don't care much for Katy Perry is because she sounds a lot like Pink. I'd be willing to bet that at least 25% of people thought "I Kissed a Girl" was the new Pink song when they first heard it on the radio. The same goes for "Hot N Cold". Is that whole persona really anything noteworthy? The whole "cool rocker bitch" thing? The entire basis for all their albums sales is "I don't give a crap about your feelings, dude, 'cuz I'm gonna FIGHT some other chicks tonight!!!!" Aside from domestic abuse survivors, why is this music appealing to anybody? Meehhhhh.... tub-deez.

// From the "Far Be It From Me To Complain, But..." Department: Even though my last two posts were almost totally Obama-related, I feel like I have to mention one more thing regarding the inauguration ceremony. If you'll reminisce with me for a moment, remember my reviews of Indiana Jones and Die Hard 4? In effect, I said that just because CGI provides for a more spectacular brand of explosions and mayhem, it doesn't need to be used ad nauseam. Old-fashioned, real explosions worked just fine for most of us. I kind of found a correlation with the media coverage of Barack's Inauguration Address. My work (that feels weird to say) prevented me from seeing the live feed, so I watched it via DVR at around 1 PM. One thing immediately stood out to me: there wasn't the slightest hint of an echo. I deduced that the microphones the networks used were wired into the podium to cut down on the echo. To that I ask, "Why?" Think about some other notable speeches from the past. When Lou Gehrig said, "Today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the Earth", don't you recall the echoes that rang when he paused? I feel like those echoes added something. The dirge of technology rears its ugly head again. Let's make one thing clear: I am definitely not a Luddite. I embrace technology like I embraced fried food in 2005: often and very affectionately. Just because we are capable of new (and some would say better) ways to do things doesn't mean we always have to employ the newest methods. I would've liked the speech better with a slight echo, that's all.

// Link Dump.... fills it up!

+ These warriors would've been most welcome when I used to think there were child-eating monsters residing in my bedroom closet.

+ Truthful TV Title Cards. C'mon! Who feels like a chuckle?

+ Humiliating Pet Costumes. While I agree the costumes look atrocious, don't they somehow make the model dogs look that much cuter? Boy, I want a dog. (Translation: Boy, I'm sad and lonely.)

+ Erotic iPod Speaker Set Housing. Does this qualify as avant-garde or is it just weird and nasty? I lean towards the latter.

+ Anatomy of a Kissy Face. So true. I haven't seen a girl actually smile for a picture in months.

// Good Monday. Enjoy your week everybody!

Put Me Down For Two Orders

It's His Prerogative

// So why are we starting out with "My Prerogative"? Three reasons. Firstly, why not? I don't even care that he took the bloom off Whitney's rose; Bobby Brown made some real fly music. Dig this: I like watching/listening to specific items about once every month. I like watching the Coors Light NFL ads with the fake press conferences. I like watching Barry Sanders highlights, and not just because I was dubbed "The White Barry" of Grosse Ile Middle School circa 1997. I like watching the extended cut of Weezer's "Buddy Holly" music video. You know why I do these things? It's not because I use the internet to validate my sad, sad, lonely life (it's partly that). It's because watching these clips acts as a cure-all for the occasional generic mopes (sometimes referred to The Mondays)! In addition to the previously mentioned items, "My Prerogative" is a song that's always hovering around my rotation. It's like the song version of Robert Horry (Spurs version); they'll never blow up for 40 and 12, but you always have to be weary. When you least expect it... KABOOM! and next thing you know you're dancing by yourself in boxers and Ray-Bans. I propose we all take the time every month or so to listen to Bobby Brown's classic anthem to those of us who say (in an Eric Cartman voice), "I do what I want!" It gives the listener that nice edge; an unmistakable pep in one's step. Secondly, we're listening to Bobby Brown because I recently made a decree - apartment-wide, mind you - that starting this year and continuing ad infinitum, the last full week of January will be known as New Jack Swing Week. I'm starting to grow tiresome of the guitar-driven rock portion of the ubiquitous '80s nostalgic bombardment. "Take Me Home Tonight", "Your Love", "Don't Stop Believing"... it's enough already. Admittedly, I'm being a tad hypocritical here. I was once entranced on a weekly basis by these same songs. I would force out of my mouth in a ridiculous excuse for coherent speech, "Dude! They're playing Journey after Akon?!? So cool!". That being said, can't we - as whatever kind of group we constitute - decide on some different songs to obnoxiously scream along to? I literally cringe every single mother-effing time "Livin' on a Prayer" comes on in a bar. If I was from say, Sub-Saharan Africa, I would assume that "Livin' on a Prayer" was the de facto national anthem. I can't remember the last weekend out in East Lansing without hearing one overweight, not-in-a-sexy-way-sweaty girl say to another, "Oh Em Gee, Becky! I LOVE this song! We're sooooo drunk fo sho!... Let's get some pizza!!" As a result, I'm starting to ween off some of the '80s that served me so well in Power Hours past, and New Jack Swing is filling the void. Besides, I think I'm getting tennis elbow from 8 years of fist-pumping.

(Quick FYI before we move on. I will always hate - I can't stress that word enough - hate Britney Spears for her cover of this song. Did anyone really give two dooks when Britney was walking around gas station bathrooms barefoot? NO! In effect, she retarded the original message of the song. Britney was saying, "Let me do what I want, this is my life." The public basically screamed back, "OK. Do whatever you want, seriously. Go sick. Let us know when you're dead so we can reserve the cover of OK! Magazine." People were interested in Bobby Brown. He left New Edition, his singles were all hits, he was bumping uglies with Whitney. If Britney covered the song in 2001, it would've at least made a little sense. By the time she released it, she wasn't making blips on radars anymore. What's more is, she realized this and sheepishly decided that she didn't care about the media's criticism as long as middle school boys were pleasuring themselves to her poster. I'm convinced this is the sole reason she's pulling herself back from her life in comically white trash indignity. This intense hatred also applies to Fall Out Boy. Fall Out Boy's other prepubescent whine-fests (they call them "songs") are deplorable enough, but then they had the audacity to remake "Beat It". Who the hell do these people think they are? Imagine you made a hyper-delicious meat lover's pizza that everyone loved and you called it "Hearty Pizza". A decade later, I decide to come out with my own "Hearty Pizza". It's the exact same as yours except it only has pepperoni and I like to pay hobos to ejaculate on it. Even so, I still call it "Hearty Pizza." Then I have the nerve to say publicly that your good pizza inspired me to make a crappier version. Your delicious pizza inspired me to make this semen-and-pepperoni disaster. Would you murder me? You see the point. Britney Spears and Fall Out Boy covered - and released to make money - songs by Bobby Brown and Michael Jackson, respectively. Two of the greatest artists of my lifetime were covered by two musical acts that make music that can be accurately described as "ear abortion".)

// Segue time. The last reason for Bobby Brown getting billing today is the title of the song. Prerogative is an interesting word. Based on absolutely nothing at all, I'd estimate that about half the things I believe are my prerogative are in fact not. There are many checks in our society that most people either a) don't give an ess about and flout, or b) are unaware of. I have no beef with most of the rules in place. The day-to-day lives of Johnnies and Janes go off - for the most part - without a hitch. I do, however, have a problem with the leader of the free world being judged and, for lack of a better word, persecuted for doing something completely, 100% legal.


That interview is from early December. Allow me to first illustrate the fallacies of what you just watched. Quick question: why is the White House a non-smoking facility? Who decided this? My guess is the decision came from a group of stick-in-the-mud Congressmen who, once they realized they'd never merit any consideration for a Presidential nomination, felt the need to validate their salaries with some good PR for their district's community effing newspapers. (BTW, I'm trying to decrease my swearing. Please note that my feelings on this matter would regularly elicit a cosmic amount of no-no words.) Seriously, the fact that ANYONE but the currently serving President has the gall to ban smoking in the White House is mind-boggling to me. Mindsplosion! Moving on, WTF is Brokaw's problem? Is he serious with that holier-than-thou bullshit? Is he confusing "smoking a very occasional cigarette" with "rampant and destructive alcoholism"? Quitting smoking is not the easiest thing in the world. Tommy B should put himself in Baracks's shoes. To ask a longtime smoker to completely quit mere months after he began his effort in earnest is a tall order. Imagine if Obama had asked Brokaw if he would quit being a smug, judgmental douchebag son of a bitch? I don't know if Brokaw could do it. They don't make any gum or patches that can help you quit having a dick-ish personality.

One more thing: it is definitely NOT a myth that when a smoker is in the process of quitting, said smoker can be a bit of a handful. I've tried to quit smoking (and failed epically) thrice. Within 24 non-smoking hours, I was edgy, cantankerous, irritable, and basically unhappy; even more so than I am in a general sense. The change in personality is so definite, so palpable, it's almost a bit frightening. Think of it as a very junior varsity version of The Incredible Hulk. "You wouldn't like me when angry - I mean, without a Marlboro Light..." That was me. Three different times. For about 48 hours apiece. That's the effect you can generally expect from someone mid-quit. Here's my point: does our country really need our newly-elected leader to be white-knuckling it through four years of that post? I really cannot fathom the stresses and anxieties that come with being the President, let alone the President that the country is anointing as an infallible savior. Is it really fair to take away his pack of smokes? I really don't think so. Another real bummer about this whole situation is the fact that the Truman Balcony - the expansive second-floor balcony facing south - would probably be the #1 coolest place in the world to have a smoke.

Scenario: imagine making sweet, sweet love to the wife after the Inauguration ball. You just had sex in the White House. You now command thousands of nuclear warheads. Billions - billions - of lives are depending on your abilities as a leader, and you have the confidence of knowing that the most powerful nation on Earth trusts you with those responsibilities. You look up at the bedroom ceiling and you mumble cockily to yourself, "I'm the President, bitch." Big smile. Your dreams are realized. Who's the man? You, sir! You are the man! You come out of your auto-erotic coma to find yourself going outside. Let's take in that Truman Balcony. Maybe we'll see some protesters and given them the finger. You're wearing that awesome navy-and-white terry cloth robe with the Presidential Seal embroidered on the pocket. You take in the air and thank The Big Guy for your blessings. "Son of a bitch", you think to yourself. Your happiness can barely be contained as you think, "I'm the President. The Pre-zee-dent! Whattya know about that?" You flick your Bic and hammer down the most satisfying Carolina stick you've ever had. End scenario.

// I think Barack Obama deserves that moment.

You Can’t Explain Everything - Super Bowl XLIII (+ My Pick)

Despite what some people think, not everything has a perfect explanation. Let’s look at the Arizona Cardinals. By the way this team played a month ago, it doesn’t make sense. Logically, visually, statistically, there isn’t an explanation. But I’m starting to think that this is a good thing. Why? Because teams like this give us upsets in sports, and unexpected drama in life (at least for sports fans who bet the Eagles -4). I guess it’s good to realize that not everything has to make sense. Just because there’s no perfect explanation for the lights in the sky doesn’t mean there are UFOs out there. The lack of an explanation is a gift.

// Sidenote: There will always be two questions in life that I would love an explanation for. Why do they report power outages on television, and why do they put those braille dots on the keypad of the drive-up ATMs? Thoughts?

// If you could explain everything, the favorites would always win. Instead of always looking for an answer, it’s good to just sit back and enjoy the Cardinals run. Sure I thought the Eagles were a better team than the Cards. All of the numbers said so. Even though the showing by the Eagles defense was comparable to Janeane Garofalo’s performance in the first five hours of 24, all things logical still pointed to an Philly win. Arizona was the younger team. No pass rush. They were soft in a bad division. Blown out several times. And terrible when leaving their time zone. For all that, the lack of answers is what makes this an intriguing Super Bowl.

// Now for the other side and the team representing the stronger AFC. Let’s start with the coach. Mike Tomlin has that John McCain quality. If either was your dad, you would bring home straight A’s. You wouldn’t screw with him. You wouldn’t talk back to Mike Tomlin. He’s intimidating. I think half of the players’ motivation is to not disappoint Tomlin. He has been a home-run hire. He looks like a football coach. He plays the part.

// For the Steelers team, this entire Super Bowl run is a testament to how well they are run as an organization. Lions front office…take notes. This is how you become successful. Very little flash and 100% substance. Pay attention to the draft, build from the lines out, and eliminate headaches ASAP. Having major stability at head coach doesn’t hurt either. Once they got Ben to stop bouncing off windshields, I think they solidified their spot as the best-run American sports franchise. The Yankees may be richer. The Lakers have more pizzazz. But the blue-collar Steelers get the job done quietly. They are your no-nonsense, meat-and-potatoes team. They are the restaurant that stays open for 40 years. Comparatively, the Lions are the night club that is red-hot for a month and then gets busted by the feds (...I just watched We Own The Night, which I'd give an 8/10).

// So how about the game? Go to the bank, withdraw some dough, and get ready to double your money.

No-Choice Pick: Pittsburgh -7

SITE UPDATE // Welcome Aboard, Sloppy

// The stream has added a new member to the team, and the above picture represents my happiness for this happening. This addition should refuel the stream team, get ready for it gang.

How To Disable a Woman While Wearing a Loinscloth

// That is all

Sounds Like It's Time to Punch In

// Truly, it's a wonderful day for our country. Seeing Barack Obama become the our President is an image that personifies good words - words like hope and opportunity and America - in a very dramatic fashion. His is a story that has the potential to serve as an inspiration to people from any walk of life. And it's not because he's black. And it's not because we're finally rid of President Bush. And it's not because it's trendy to hate on Republicans now. And it's definitely not because we'll finally get to see what kind of puppy he'll get his daughters. There's nothing superficial about what makes this day so special. The election of Barack Obama is the best proof yet that the United States's reputation of a "land of opportunity" still rings true. His beginnings were humbler than most. He made his fair share of mistakes along the way, but he worked and worked and worked - hard - to achieve the goals he had set for himself. For a nation who can best be described wholly as "weary", to see a man achieve such a colossal triumph and truly believe he has good in his heart is very uplifting. There's a recognition that occurs; people realize it easier if they see the fruits of another man's labor, especially when the fruit is becoming President. There's a feeling of elation when we're reminded of the fact that working hard - while sometimes its own reward - can help you see even your loftiest goals come to fruition. Let's dissect this incredible day.

// The speech. Before today, I was beginning to think people were expecting too much. It reminded of this: if you ever ask someone over 40 about Saturday Night Live, a very likely response is something along the lines of, "Nothing was as good as those early ones with Belushi and Akroyd and Gilda Radner and Eddie Murphy and Chevy Chase." I respectfully disagree. My hypothesis on this is that the only parts of those old SNLs we see replayed anymore are the gems. We see Belushi's Samurai character and the knock-knock shark at Weekend Update and subsequently those SNLs are remembered as classics. Of course, right? All we're ever seeing is the skits they struck gold with! However, if you've ever watched an entire episode of an old SNL, I think you'll find what I did: the skit batting average was very similar to what it is now. A lot of so-sos, a couple yuk-yuks, and every so often they hit a grand slam. There seemed to be a correlation like that with regard to today's speech as well. I think there was this (unfair) expectation that every line of Obama's speech was going to be on par with "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself" or "ask not what your country can do for you...". While it wasn't an immediate "HOLY CRAP DID YOU HEAR THAT!!" kind of speech, it was a very well-written (and extremely well-delivered, obv) speech and I think that over time it will be favorably compared to other notable inaugural addresses. Some parts I rather enjoyed:

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America — they will be met.

This might be the early favorite for the line that will be remembered the most (and played along those ubiquitous lines I said earlier). Also, it's the early front runner for the quote most often mangled by high school seniors in their class 0f 2132 yearbook.

Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

The overall message of the entire speech, the whole "let's go to work" thing played really well. Rightfully so. That's maybe the best aspect of his Presidential persona thus far. From the second he planned his victory address, he's never wavered from his "the work is just beginning" theme. I found that the more I replayed it, the more I thought about that Pistons "going to work" jingle they play during ticket ads.

We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories.

Energy, in my mind, is the most pressing issue we face. I think success on that front could act almost like a panacea for our various other problems. I really hope he can succeed in getting progressive energy reform enacted soon. There needs - needs - to be laws that will force our country into more widespread use of renewable energy and ween our dependency on not just foreign oil but all fossil fuels. I really believe the growing scarcity of fossil fuels could be the make-or-break issue of America.

We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.

I have a plethora of thoughts on our foreign policy; way too many to include in a blurb. I just wanted to point out that his whole demeanor during his glossing over of defense was very reassuring. He might not be quite the hard-liner that G.W. was, but he's not a pushover. I think his assurances that are country will be safe are genuine.

What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility — a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

This might be the money shot; the quote that goes on the marble block holding up the statue if our great-great-great-grandchildren decide Obama merits a monument on the mall. It's easy to be cynical, especially when our perception of our country is so dire, but Barack Obama is inspiring. It really is that simple. Our recent history has made it easy to be dubious and harbor a mistrust of all things government. Again, it's easy to be cynical. But there is a great feeling in being genuinely excited about the direction Obama can give us.

If you've ever seen him speak, and I doubt I know anyone who hasn't, you know that words on a screen don't do Barack Obama justice. His eloquence and charisma make his speeches seem like more than words from a politician. He's so moving. If you didn't see it, I urge you to watch the speech here. It really is worth the time, especially the anecdotal parting shot. OK, moving on from speech highlights...

// Since he bested Hillary Clinton over the course of the Democratic primaries, the hype surrounding President Obama (henceforth referred to as "Obama" or simply "Barry", I just wanted to type "President Obama" one time for my own amends) has been almost unequaled by anything I can recall. It sounds ridiculous to compare the two people, and perhaps it is a commentary on how exasperating our country can get, but the sheer mass of the exposure Obama has received in the last year is the most I can recall since late-90s early-00s Britney Spears. I don't think I've gone a single day since last February without hearing an actual discussion about the man, much less seeing his family's vacation photos grace the cover of US Weekly. It would seem as though now, with him finally being inaugurated, the hype will gradually subside and he'll slowly become something we're accustomed to. But does that prediction hold water? I'm not so sure.

When I say his hype was unparalleled, I mean exactly that. My comparison to last decade's Britney is a serious one, at least as far as media coverage is concerned. It's arguable that Barack's celebrity has surpassed even hers. In an historical sense, he might be the most talked about person in our country's (and perhaps even the world's) history. If you took his celebrity and matched it up with The Beatles, wouldn't you guess Barack Obama is a bigger story? Even when taking into account the relatively gargantuan size of the present media compared to that of the '60s, doesn't Obama still register as a bigger hype machine? I'm leaning towards yes.

The question, then, is what now? He had a strong mandate, no doubt. The message sent in early November was unmistakable: we wanted Barack Obama to be President. We got it. Message received. No Emperor Palpatine-esque power grab from the Neo-Cons. So when does the work begin and, the bigger question, when will average Americans have their trust rewarded? When will the Gallup polls reveal that yes, average Americans think we've "turned it around"? When comes Obama's CHANGE? There's no black-and-white answer to that one. I think the country made a good decision electing Obama. I think he's beyond capable and - more importantly - I believe he has a good, selfless heart. It worries me a bit, however, that the country will be impatient with him. I don't know if we can make another good decision and be patient. I don't know if the people - not a person, but the people - have the foresight to really heed Obama's words when he says our work is just beginning. The pressure on this man is so great - so massive - and in his line of work there's rarely any change for the good that happens overnight. A big question yet to be answered is how will Obama handle it if the honeymoon ends? I for one believe he's that good; his skill set and abilities as a leader will enable him to create real results in (relatively, remember) quick fashion. But is it possible that it all falls the other way? Will he grow weary of the pressures of the office? Grow tired from the constant scrutiny and exposure? Become jaded towards our system and abandon his altruistic goals? Is it possible?

// Truly, it's a wonderful day for our country. This could be the start of a course of action that will extend our country's prosperity until long after we're all dead and gone. It used to be easy to be cynical, but no more. Barack Obama has quelled the growth of our disillusionment. Barack Obama made it easy to be an optimist again.

First Time, Long Time

// It’s my first post on The Stream after being a long-time reader. So let’s get to it. What am I bringing to the table? I don’t have the writing abilities or humor of Mike. I’m more of a numbers guy. I probably won’t delve into my personal life and show you the inner workings of a major corporation like Kevin. And I certainly don’t have the knack for finding high-quality video clips like Brian. Thus, I won’t be the guy to put The Stream on this list, but I’ll help pass the time in between their posts. And bring some flavor along the way.

// How did I get here? Well, I grew up with the three guys on Grosse Ile and spoke the GINV. Then college happened and I enjoyed every bit of the ride. But after those days were over, I was at a crossroads. I decided it was time to relocate to a new city and see what the rest of America had to offer.

// I was out of college at 22 and outside of a short stint in Europe, I was living with my parents. Sidenote: I’m never living in Europe again...God bless the red, white, and blue. Anyway, I was worried that the living-with-my-parents situation could become a slippery slope. Fast forward eight years and would I still be that single 30-year old guy living in the bedroom I grew up in?

// A recent survey from the AARP discovered that one-fourth of the Generation X-ers (i.e. so-called slackers), those 28 to 39 years old, receive financial help from family and friends. That is not acceptable. Don’t turn to dad for a handout…get a job. I tip my cap to the guy who’s 25, earning a decent wage, and saving rent money by taking shelter with his parents. Times are tough right now. The job market is lousy. The economy is slumping while we’re in the midst of a credit crunch. We all have to scale back. But…once you hit 30, the coupon expires. You can no longer accept the parents offer to live in the basement and watch Entourage at 2am while dad pays the cable bill. It’s time to lick your wounds and save some cabbage to get your own pad. If you’re 27-28 years old, I’ll give ya a mulligan. But when the 30th birthday strikes, stop being lazy and get out.


// I got out early. I’m living in Chicago. My job pays the rent and I’m scraping by. The city life is cool, but the sports teams reek. I love to remind my co-workers of Detroit's recent success. They all say I’m living in the past, but…hell with ‘em. So, where to from here? Not exactly sure, but add my beloved Detroit sports teams to my friends in SE Michigan and I’ll be back one day. Just not in my parents’ house.

Kevin In 10 Years

The Official User's Guide to The Grosse Ile (+North) Vernacular

// I don't think I'll ever sound more pompous in a post than I will right here. Then again, I am me. Yes, that's true. I'm me. I could out-pompous myself, even on a bad day. So let me rephrase: I don't think I'll ever unintentionally sound more pompous than I'm about to. I can imagine the disparaging comments emanating from your inner monologue. "Seriously? The guy takes credit for a whole line of lingo?" Well it's about time to chiggety check yourself mi amigo, because here comes a rebuttal, and I'm aiming right at your dome. No, I'm not taking full credit. I'm not even taking half-credit. The Grosse Ile (+ North) Vernacular (henceforth known as GINV, or if the mood should strike you, Gin-Veezy) has always been, and will always continue to be a collaborative effort. Many good men have made priceless contributions to a language that has evolved from its humble beginnings. GINV was once a mere cluster-eff of idiotic, full-blown alcoholic ramblings mumbled into the uncaring and disgusted ears of anyone unfortunate enough within earshot. In little more than 6 years, it has become a way of life; part of the very fabric that makes up the tapestry of good times with good friends. Therein lies the grand design of this perhaps insanity-causing collection. It's to be shared amongst friends. I don't understand it myself, but the equation cannot be denied. Great times + GINV = (possibly) greater times. Try it out. If it doesn't work, we have a 90-day money back guarantee.

A quick note about the name. While the vernacular had its origins on Grosse Ile, it's true potential was reached (and it's usage was nearly doubled) when the innovators from GI collaborated with the savants from the North. (Quick note: the North in this case refers to pretty much the Troy area. It's too much of a pain in the butt to list all 47 of the towns/villages/hamlets those brosephs are from, and also I hate abbreviating Oakland County into "The O.C." Plus, the acronym works way better.) That's why we're calling it what we're calling it. A man who doesn't give others their due and proper is not a man you want on your squad when its 4th and goal.

Lastly, I'd like to offer a quick story. Fun fact: I've been to the last two victories of the Detroit Lions (0-16 aftermath post coming soon, btw). The last victory was a 25-20 victory over the Chiefs, a game in which fellow 'Streamer Brigee was kind enough to take me to. The victory before that was another gem. The Week 9 Lions victory over the Broncos took the team to 6-2. The best part was that they didn't just win; the Lions absolutely humiliated the Broncos all dog gone day. And not only on the field, but also in the concourse of the stadium. On the way out, the crew and I had prime seats to witness some poor sap Broncos fan getting lit up - LIT UP - by three surly Motor City types. Anywho, the crew was as follows: my man Nelson, who came strong with the tickets. My man Plow, who polished off a double meat Italian sub from Subway on the way down to Motown. Plow's roommate DJ, a late-round pick by Plow up at CMU who turned into one of the gems of the post-high-school-friend draft. Last, and most likely least, your truly. We're on the way down to the game, when the hangovers from last night's malfeasances begin to take a firm, interlocking grip. Hangover protocol dictates two things must happen unless in the most extenuating of circumstances. We need some perfect food, and we need to get a little slap-happy. I already mentioned the Subway. I'm happy to say that the slap-happy was never far behind. It started off with laughing at the (seemingly perpetual) gaseous emissions. Then it devolves into country music, bad jokes, etc, etc. We'd all been there before. Or had we? The wheels were turning in DJ's melon. His mind was a steel trap of deciphering, but to no avail. He thought to himself, "What are these guys talking about? Did they get high?" Guess again, Deej-Man. It was the GINV. The trip to the D took about 2 hours with heavy traffic (remember, the Lions were 5th in the NFC standings at this point). Bless his soul. He kept at it for about an hour and 45 minutes, but eventually it was too much for DJ to continue holding his tongue. At about the time I-96 meets Davison, DJ piped up, "OK! Ok. Seriously?! Seriously, you guys... I have no idea... NO idea what you're talking about. What are you talking about?".... Ok, I didn't say it was a good story. But it should illustrate the power the lingo can carry. Substituting these (at first glance) meaningless words for part or all of a strategically selected word in a sentence... will quite frankly change your life. Without further ado... The Grosse Ile (+North) Vernacular. In alphabetical order.

- bird: a modifier used in conjunction with the first letter of an otherwise normal word, especially used during recognized holidays. (Wed. before Thanksgiving): Hey Cindy! Happy T-Bird!

- bone: kind of like when you have a nice outfit on, but if you find the right hat it'll really make the whole ensemble "pop". Let's play 7-11-Doubles. You got the diebones?

- brizz: a rarely used "replacement" syllable, most often for words beginning in "b" and/or "br". What was the name of the bowling alley on the sitcom "Ed"? Stuck-Brizz?

- breez(y): same as brizz, but used for added panache when dining on more formal fare. Did you want bacon on your Cobb salad? Yeah, gimme that breezy if you could.

- cock: etiquette would dictate its use when the company is exclusively male, generally used in a disparaging tone. Seriously, can we get one decent middle linebacker?!?! Ted-Cock!!!

- dawg: used as a name-modifying colloquialism, spelling is paramount to its effective use. (When greeting someone of large stature): Ooh! Mig-Dawg!

- diesel: somewhat akin to "cock", this word employs less malice and, when donned properly, leaves a waft of F-150 commercial in the air. I really can't hit a fairway. Lemme try your drive-diesel.

- dick: not surprisingly, this cock-esque ending word has a more playful, I'm-just-busting-your-balls attitude, strictly for use between close friends. Yeah and then Bri-dick had to help me climb my balcony.

- deez: perhaps the most inane of all words, deez is used in combinations to either describe a rotund person or convey the feeling "eff it". You have 14, sir. Hit? Ehh... tub-deez.

- deezy: used to sing Akon's opening lines in "Soul Survivor" and covertly convey that you think someone within earshot is overweight. (in melody, like Akon): Akon and Tub-Deezy!

- dub: a substitute for the letter W but, and this is imperative, only when the W is part of an acronym with another consonant. Hey, you thirsty? Yeah dude, hand me that dub-B.

- fuck: used to indicate your displeasure in the immediate aftermath of a poor showing. How long does it take to make change? Toll-fuck!

- geeeeeeem: used in basketball to instruct players to initiate a full court press. (After a made shot): GEEEEEEM!!!!

- grease/greasy: as the name implies, this word alters the name of something that isn't of the cleanest persuasion. Wanna get some Donny-grease? -- or -- How'd you do with that girl? Dude, big greasy.

- Jigs/Jiggas: only for use with combined last names in which it rolls off the tongue like a hip-hop song. You know who was always smiling? Hoe-Jiggas.

- jeezy: perhaps the most popular, it modifies almost the entire dictionary. I'm out can you get me a brew-jeezy? -- or -- Then we slide-jeezy right past the bouncer.

- piece: a hallmark and original member of GINV, piece is equally as ubiquitous as jeezy. Let's get some tunes! Gimme the pod-piece!

- pimpin: a rare complete name substitute, pimpin should only be used with people you've met less than 3 times, lest it become insulting. You remember Jack? Hell yeah. What's up pimpin?

- pump: subtly sexual in nature, pump is often used on decidedly non-sexual gossamer. Yeah, I got a flat, Susan! I can't find the j-pump!

- peezy: similar to piece, but used less often due to its similar phonetic nature (and "little brother" status) to jeezy. You guys feel like some euch-peezy?

- scrape: a verb with omnipotent flair, scrape must be carefully emphasized in a sentence or used with a complementary noun to convey proper meaning. Anyone mind if I scrape a soda?

// So there it is. For now. Remember, Gin-Veezy never stays in one place. There are many empty pages still left in the book, and the ending can never be written. In the words of Gary Busey, "Art is never the final form. Art is the journey." Become the journey and your final form will take care of itself. I hope you enjoy yourselves.

Easin' It In... Like a Gentleman

// Some words get thrown around way too often. This has been clear to me for a while. The difficult question is why? Why are some words used with so much more frequency than others? Part of the answer is sensationalism, especially on the telly. Human beings enjoy - nay - LOVE superlatives (see that there? doesn't "love" just sound more correct and normal?). We're so over inundated by hearing something is "the ultimate" this or "definitely the finest" that. It's taken its toll. The constant use of these words - words that should only be used to describe something of the highest order - has dulled our senses a bit. Our regular comparative adjectives don't do it for us anymore. They absolutely do not suffice (again, doesn't "absolutely" just roll off the tongue so easily?). In a way, it's akin to a sort of diction cocaine, no? Who still gets a nicotine buzz after doing blow every weekend? The same goes for when we use superlatives all the time. It's too boring to hear that something is "decent" or "pretty good". We prefer to hear "greatest". There's no rush when you hear someone say your favorite point guard has "fine ball handling skills". Instead, we just anoint anybody and everybody as "the best" and then argue with one another over what one thing actually is the best. By the way, I just wrote down - probably verbatim - the pitch they gave to ESPN for Around The Horn. But I digress. Let's talk superlatives. One example is the term "Offensive (or Defensive, obv) Genius". That's a phrase that I hear much more often than is warranted. It seems every time I turn on NFL Live, I have to stare at Merril Hoge's annoying face perched above his ridiculously wide shoulders and hear him say, "blahblahblah is an offensive genius." (Quick side note: since the departure of Sean Salisbury, a hot commodity in the power rankings of "ESPN Talking Head You'd Like To Slap Very Hard" is Merril Hoge. His body of work teems more and more every day in its asininity.) There's no need for Hoge to call Dick LeBeau, Rex Ryan and Ron Rivera all geniuses. His point would be nicely (and probably more correctly) made if he called all of them "very good defensive coordinators". But nobody wants to hear that noise. We want geniuses, dammit! Now! Geniuses! Again, it's like a drug and we're addicted to it.

Let's get away from superlatives. There's a point coming. Promise. There are plenty of other words that get too much airtime. My king culprit is the word "drama". This case is easy to crack. I know where it came from and how it became so widespread. As much as it pains me to say it, I point the blame at Laguna Beach. Gosh, how I enjoyed that show. I shared a bevy of yuks with my old buddy Stach while we dissected the first season game film MTV treated us to in the fall of 2004. However, it is very hard to deny that since the advent of LB (and shortly thereafter The Hills, which is about as fun as a hemorrhoid), "drama" has been used to describe roughly 95% of anything that even remotely resembles a disagreement between people. The word gets thrown around like a Nerf at 4th-grade recess. Frustrating. I'd venture to guess that there's a sentence that has been nearly phased out of existence since LB reared its (gorgeous and tan) head. When is the last time you heard - on TV or in real life - someone say, "Those two don't like each other very much." No one says it! It's as if every intricacy, every facet, every minute detail of a strained relationship between two people can simply be glossed over and adequately explained by saying, "Drama." Look, I'm all for brevity. For years, I've been shortening about half of the words I use by replacing the longer syllables with (among others*) "jeezy" or "peezy" at the end of them. Seriously, don't even ask yourself why. It just feels right. I'm just tired of hearing "drama". That's all. We need the President to go down to SoCal and give L.A. County and Orange County a mandate: stop using the word "drama" unless describing the genre of an artistic medium. Enough is enough.

* A full write-up detailing what has become affectionately known as "The Grosse Ile Vernacular" will be coming soon. The ultimate goal is to get a Wikipedia page.

Fortunately, there's a flip side to the coin. (So close to the point. Still getting there, but closer.) Some words, in this case some very superlative words, are not being beaten to death by sensationalist dummies. There is a hesitant caution before one employs certain words (although the list of those words is dwindling). It's good that this happens, though. We don't need to start throwing these around. That would be like giving Tyler from Fight Club access to a nuclear arsenal. Appropriately used words? They exist. The easy example(s): Perfect. Consummate. Immaculate. Flawless. I feel like we, as a society, are admirably careful about overusing these words. You don't often hear something is perfect. It's rare to hear, "Hey Peter. How were those muffins from Panera?" "Oh y'know... perfect." Nobody comes home from a Red Wings game and says, "Oh man. Draper's wrister in the 2nd was freakin' perfect." It doesn't happen like that. A sacred aura still exists around "perfect". That's not to say you can't use qualifiers to alter your meaning. "Dude, her body was almost perfect" is a phrase offered regularly in the throes of dudes-together-the-morning-after-a-crazy-night-out time. People also say "near perfect" quite a bit. This past summer I used "near perfect" to describe The Dark Knight. If I stand behind the claim when asked "Really?", it works, right? Right. Here comes the payoff.

So, after taking a very scenic route, we've arrived at our destination: the reason for the post. You see, there is a method to the madness. I didn't just write all that stuff to rant, although that would seem very Honerian (my name works well as an adjective!). First, I enjoy delving into etymology and philology. Language changes and (d)evolves so drastically it sometimes feels like a living thing. The patterns in everyday speech can tell a culture a lot about itself. I also wrote it because I wanted to make a clear distinction that there are many things called "the best" that aren't necessarily the best. The diatribes on language acted as a wonderful "alley" for the approaching "oop". My friends, the point needed to be made because something truly wonderful has happened to us all. My roommate Ben stumbled onto what I feel very comfortable calling The Best movie scene in the history of motion pictures (also, he found the second best). The title "Best" can be deduced because at this point I can't fathom how anyone out there has the capacity to create something more sublime than what you're about to see. The lines, the facial expressions, even the body language is, for lack of a better word, magical. A little exposition: The clips from a 1987 feature called Hard Ticket to Hawaii, a quasi-pornographic insanity romp that does to rationalized, decent thought what Vanilla Ice did to the coolness quotient of white males. !!! Probably NSFW. Better safe than sorry. Err on the side of caution. That kind of thing. !!! Make sure there's nothing around you that can fall over easily if you lose control of your limbs... and enjoy.