Wifey: When did this place become so popular?
Me (surveying crowd): Looks like a fag joint, but for really nerdy homos.
Wifey: You realize they can all hear you, right?
Me: Who, the nerdy fags?
Wifey: Does anyone ever just punch you?
Goodell got booed, long and loud, when he took the stage. Not sure how much of it made the air but it was great. You couldn’t hear yourself think it was so loud. He tried to speak several times and had to stop and wait.
Master of the media that he is, he had a preplanned moment of silence for the tornado victims. Totally took the piss out of the hecklers.
Cam Newton also got booed loudly several times.
Peyton Hillis also got some boos when he opened by thanking the Lord Jesus Christ.
Speking of, Jesus Christ is Hillis huge. We wound up right next to him for a few minutes and he truly is a beast. If I saw that guy heading towards me with pads on and a head of steam I’d pretty much shit myself and start crying.
Thank, you, Atlanta, for singlehandedly rebuilding the Browns team. Cannot believe all the picks we got in return for the number six. They traded us two first rounders, a second rounder and two fourth rounders for Julio Jones. Has a receiver come out in the last ten years worth that many picks?
All in all a really good time. How lucky am I that even at my advanced age and with everyone starting families three great friends and I can spend a weeknight recklessly drinking and hanging out like that. Good times.
“I hate them,” Mr. Olsen, 40, said of the row of [solar] panels attached to electrical poles across the street. “It’s just an eyesore.”
FOLLOW THE LINK FOR MORE SUBURBAN BUTTHURT
Folks, when you get to the point when your life is consumed with negativity over a 3x3 panel mount on a utility pole, you really should just wrap things up and off yourself. That’s right, commit suicide. Tracy Morgan needs your kidneys.
Agreed. Let this prick live next to an open pit coal mine for a while and see if his attitude towards solar changes.
Wifey: So all those draft guys are staying at the W Times Square
Me: Cool, you know I’m…
Wifey: yeah, yeah, you’re going to the draft. Do you want to go to the event we’re hosting for the players afterwards?
Me: Yes please.
Wifey: Okay, I’ll get you in, but then I have to go to a thing with DeNiro for the Tribeca Film Festival
Me: Tell Bob I said hi.
Wifey: He won’t remember you
Me: Probably not, but he’ll remember the movie we just did together.
Wifey: Fair enough.
Me: Is the draft party open bar?
Wifey: (Rolls Eyes)
That effectively kills two of the four hobbies in which Clevelanders frequently engage.
Opinionated aside: I love smoking bans at restaurants, bars, etc. I think outdoor smoking bans are ludicrous. You’re outside. If someone is smoking, move away from them. There’s plenty of room. Yes, smoking is dumb, and yes, breathing in second-hand smoke over an extended period of time is dangerous. But it’s not mustard gas.
I’m shocked the pierogi lobby allowed this to happen. The times they are a-changing indeed.
I go every year, and will again this year. As a Browns fan it is the high point of the football season. As I have posted earlier, however, it increasingly sucks. It has gone from being a roomful of drunk football junkies on a Saturday morning to a lights and sound effects family friendly extravaganza in prime time.
Well fuck that.
I’m determined to bring back the white trash ugliness to the draft. Return to the bad old days with me, friends. It was not that long ago that I drunkenly bellowed “David Klingler” in Carson Palmers face. Help a brother out, give me some good taunts to yell at the draft picks as they are selected. For example, Robert Quinn has a benign brain tumor. His selection will be met with a chant of “Che-mo-ther-apy” (clap clap clap clap clap).
Truly, I do. To the point that I dropped the “step” and introduce her as Mom. She has improved my life in many ways and I truly enjoy her company.
She is Korean, and some of the food in her fridge is beyond awful. It smells like Satan ate some rotten fish, puked it up, left it sitting out in the sun til it fermented then baked it in a casserole with some dog crap.
Personally I couldn’t give a rats ass. Worse, the remains of an Irish-American upbringing have me half-hoping for some sort of tragedy. But ultimately, no, not terribly interested.
The Wifey,however, is into it. What makes this bearable is the fact that I’ll set the alarm for 5AM on Friday and kick my day off with bong hits and champagne. That combined with cuddling in bed makes it something to look forward to.
Keep your chin up, pal. Was just in dads room reading the card you sent him, meant a lot to me.
Wow. This just made my day bro. Hope he is doing well. Thank you Sam.
He is well, thanks, but every day is a struggle for him still. Despite making great progress he feels sad and thinks he let our family down somehow. So hard for a strong, proud man to need help from others.
If anyone is considering any online wagering I strongly advise you avoid World Sports Exchange (www.WSEX.com). I used them successfully for years. Chose them initially for many good reasons. They are a publicly traded company with a sterling reputation. Until recently, that is.
Suppose I had deposited some money at the start of the NFL Playoffs, and went on a serious run. So serious, in fact, that I might have increased my investment 13 times over. Suppose I went on a monster run, hitting a series of parlays, and made enough to buy a nice car. Would you like to get this email two months after you attempted to collect your theoretical winnings:
We spoke sometime last week. Let me again apologize for any delays in communication. We do have your withdrawal request listed and we are working everyday with our bank to get your payout to you without any further delays. During the balance of this month, our bank will be making progress on our outstanding checks. I will continue to forward your name and request to ensure that your check gets completed. Every week, the lines of communication will be kept opened and information will be passed on to you with the progress of completion. World Sports Exchange really does appreciate your patience and understanding towards us at this time. Please feel free to contact me or any other representative, to address any further queries.
Headed back to the ancestral homeland for a spell. Need to spend some time with Dad, give Mom some time off from caring for him, and get Moe a little vacation.
Yeah, it is a cliched song, but it’s still a great one. When I was growing up Kid Leo was the drivetime DJ on WMMS, Home of the Buzzard. Every Friday at 5PM he played this and Born to Run. I spent way too many nights dancing like a fool and singing along.
Did I ever mention that I kind of hated Brokeback Mountain?
Brokeback Mountain is a lot better when you drink a bottle of bubbly and MST3K the hell out of it.
You know how Brokeback is even better? If you don’t watch it at all. Ever.
I’m sure there were cowboys with hemorrhoids, and Chinese cowboys, and cowboys who liked to dress as women, and I’ll defend to my death the right to celebrate their lifestyles. Doesn’t mean I want to watch it take place.
Got a little crazy with the meatballs today. Mixed in ground veal, ground round, very thinly shredded prosciutto, bread crumbs, two eggs, finely chopped garlic, onion powder, fresh basil, sea salt and coarse ground white pepper.
…and an order of baked ziti. A large house salad, extra feta and extra balsamic on the side. Garlic bread with cheese. A side of meatballs. A small order of buffalo wings with ranch dressing. Two cokes and a diet coke. What do you have for dessert?