Finally in the Spirit...
In the spirit of the season, a few of my closest friends got together and put this together--a little volume helps...
Party Recap
As I reposted last week, last year I did a blow-by-blow recap of the first 12 hours of our annual Christmas Party weekend...
My intention was to do the same this year--however, about 90% of our potential material for the blog pretty much disappeared when McCaw elected not to partake in the day-drinking that the rest of us were suffering through, and instead met us for sushi around 8:00 that night.
I went through my notes and found only a few things worth mentioning about Day One...they were:
-The introduction of a new made-funny-out-of-overuse-joke for the group...which is repeating Bryant Gumble's ridiculous question to Adam "Pacman" Jones a couple of months ago: "Didya make it rain?"
Laughs aplenty.
-We went back to the Royal Exchange (not to be confused with the Power Exchange which is also in San Francisco) where McCaw did the majority of his damage last year. Erik brings up the fact that I likened the place to Appleby's in last year's blog and requested that I make a formal apology. So here it is:
I'm sorry that I referred to the Royal Exchange as "Appleby's for Cal Grads". That was inappropriate and short-sighted. In reality it is a wonderful bar, full of culture and sophistication. It is more like "TGI Fridays for Cal Grads."
-Mo ordered an MGD with options for twenty or so other beers. That's like walking into Armani and saying, "What do you have in a Members Only jacket?"
-Mo also referred to the "it's the pyramids" commercials that are on TV right now. Really Mo? "It's the pyramids"?? You sure you're not talking about the "It's the mirrors" commercials? To be fair--he's not that far off--I mean, they ARE both nouns.
-Josh donning arguably the most ridiculous looking sunglasses the world has ever seen. They looked like what Jackie Onassis would have worn if she was blind and had terrible taste.
But I digest...
Despite massive amounts of alcohol (at one point after we'd been drinking Sapporo and Saki for a few hours, Pete ordered FORTY 22 oz beers for our group) the day was relatively low-key.
The Christmas Party however went to new heights...
I didn't take any notes, but I'll try to do a recap as best I can for the one of you that is reading that wasn't actually at the party and the four that were...
(Oh—please forgive me if the times are a complete mess—at this point I’m kind of seeing the image of the night through a screen-door of malted hops.)
(Second note--you'll notice that the detail starts to fade as the night progresses...that isn't out of laziness, it is just that I can't write about what I don't remember...)
So here we go...
I’d woken up before the other eight that are crashing at Erik and his better-half’s beautiful one bedroom, ONE BATHROOM condo. So, knowing I may not see the shower all day if I didn’t go for it immediately, I jumped in and then realized nobody was going to be up for a couple of hours…so I text my buddy Todd and we meet for breakfast. Breakfast turns to breakfast beers and breakfast beers lead to post-breakfast beers and suddenly when it comes time for me to meet up with the Logger Crew, it is about 11:30 and I’m already four beers deep. Oh well…
11:38: We’re sitting at the Grove, outside. They’re eating breakfast, I’m having pie and a Pelligrino because I’ve already eaten, but am trying to make a workout on Monday a virtual impossibility. By the misfortune of every female yoga student in Pacific Heights, we’re sitting right in the walking line of their recently dismissed class. I’ve got to tell you—I don’t know that many guys in Southern California—and because of that, I miss out on random moments where 6-8 testosterone-charged, hungover slobs get to sit and try to one-up each other in making lewd comments about every girl that walks by. It’s a special time that only straight men can appreciate---but it is just phenomenal.
12:44: We’ve walked back to Erik’s, picked up the Tahoe and are headed to the “Dateway.” (The Dateway is the Marina Safeway in San Francisco—it was rated by some Playboy list as the best place to pick up women in America. Every trip seems to guarantee a few stalkerish stares and some of San Francisco’s most-beautiful women…we make an annual pilgrimage there every Saturday of the Christmas Party…SHOCKING.)
12:52: I'm assigned to "MIXERS" for the party. Have I mentioned how much I love this weekend? It is really "OUR" Christmas Party. I mean--Erik and his wife who will continue to remain nameless--are the hosts, and the people who put the thing on, open up their home to us, do all of the work and provide all of the hospitality--but we all take ownership in it because we enjoy it so much---and I think that's how Erik/wife want it to be. Just a great great tradition...
12:56: Another reason I love this weekend is that my cart is FULL of mixers. I mean--FULL. I don't think I could get a Kit Kat into this cart it is so packed. I mention to Erik that this is probably the closest that you can ever genuinely get to flushing money down the toilet---in this case however, you do so via your party guests' urinary tracts.
1:39: After forty minutes of packing three carts full of "supplies" and staring at every girl who crossed our paths, we pack six into the five-person Tahoe and head back to the condo. Unfortunately for every girl walking Union Street, we chose that route home. Just another continuation of the Grove earlier--but this one I think could hit the point of one of us genuinely being arrested. One girl in particular passed by us, so Erik hits the breaks...then creaped past her...parked...let her pass again...drove further...parked...this went on for two or three minutes. THEN, when we realized we could get a good picture of her from the car, our friend Eastcoast jumps out of the car and starts genuinely stalking her. (I can't tell you how disturbing this was---Eastcoast was dressed in black head-to-toe, with creepy actor hair, and a hungover disposition that made him look about as approachable as a Venus Flytrap.) So Eastcoast goes walking after her as we start doing figure eights around the blocks, watching this ridiculous display. He comes back to the car after five minutes or so, and we already know he didn't get a clear picture by the look on his face, but our creepy, Hell-spun brains were quickly assuaged when my disturbed friend lets out, "Dude--I didn't get a picture, but I know where she lives!" Wow. Book us all a spot in Hell in the "Pervert" section.
2:09: Mo, Erik and I return from buying the keg. We had spoken on the way down to the car after dumping the Safeway supplies about how stupid people were in college, carrying kegs upright instead of end-to-end. Let me tell you something--there is NO good way to carry a keg up five and a half flights of switchback stairs. It's just not easy at all. I'm going to guess it took Mo and I fifteen minutes to navigate it up there, and we both felt like we needed a nap when we finally did.
2:52: The UW-Oklahoma State basketball game had begun at 2:30. My brother and I get VERY cranky if we miss a single minute of UW games. And at 2:52, we'd already turned the TV back to the LSU-Tennessee game. I hope I'm not, but I have a fear that I was completely wrong in my assessment of this team---the 8th that they were picked in the Pac-10 might be accurate.
3:40: Pete and Billy have meandered in and Erik's wife/her friend Utah are decorating---so my brother decides that it is a pretty appropriate time to whip up some Summerbrew. What is Summerbrew? It's a more-masculine name for a Pink Pantie Dropper, and has become our pre-function brain-distorter of choice. Ever want to get the night started quickly? Whip up a mixture that includes a can of concentrated lemonade, the same can full of ice, that same can full of VODKA and a beer...you'll be blacked-out before most of the guests arrive.
4:33: Mo and my brother are standing in front of the sink as a few of us are drinking beers and Summerbrew before the party starts at five. Eastcoast comes into the kitchen, reaches around Mo to take a cup off of the stack that was behind him, fills it with beer and begins to drink. A couple minutes later, after my brother had been laughing hysterically since Eastcoast walked through the kitchen with his full beer, he finally shows us that Eastcoast had taken a cup from the USED stack of cups. Disgusting. (Naturally, we didn't inform him of this until Sunday.)
4:40: The bartender shows up. Wait a minute...THE BARTENDER??? Erik never ceases to amaze us with his hospitality and ability to run the classiest drunkfest you can imagine. This will save us from the inevitable scene at 11:30, where a barely-invited chick who is sweating booze from the bottoms of her feet, decides that it is okay for her to go into the liquor cabinet and help herself to any and all of the top-shelf booze that Erik was meaning to be off-limits for the night.
5:00: The calm before the storm. The core group is here, but the invited guests will start coming soon. Perfect time for Billy, Erik and I to perpetuate the "Didya' make it rain?" joke and start telling extraordinarily offensive jokes at a decibel level that is way too high for social acceptability.
5:17: McCaw finally shows his face. He pulls me outside to pound a beer...all told McCaw was pretty tame this weekend...but that doesn't mean that he didn't vomit Saturday night.
5:49: Erik's wife walks by the bathroom and screams, "G**D*****! HE DID IT AGAIN!!!!!!" Later, I'll find out that she was FIREY ticked about one of the five guys staying at her place who was continually leaving the toilet seat up. No, I wasn't the repeat offender, but YES, I was the one who performed the act that set her into a Tourette's-inspired rage. Hopefully she doesn't read the blog...
6:22: The party has functionally been going for two hours among the core-alcoholics--and about an hour for the common-people...yet someone has vomited ALL OVER the bathroom. We never figured out who it was, but how hard do you have to be drinking if you've been at a party for an hour and you're already puking your guts out? And how can you drink that much without anybody noticing?
6:40: Oklahoma is starting to blowout Missouri. I guess you could have predicted it, but the fact that Ohio State is essentially locking up a spot in the National Title game makes me want to punch someone. Hmm...may want to remember that as you continue reading...
6:43: My brother, Mo, McCaw, McCaw's Girlfriend, a certain female attendee and I are discussing her performances at previous Christmas Parties. I decide to recap the entirety of her absolutely ridiculous showing two years ago. OKAY--maybe I went a HAIR overboard...but she genuinely left ten minutes later. I've offended a lot of people--but that was a strong showing even for me.
7:03: Worlds begin to collide as my OTHER San Francisco crew shows up. I introduce my friend Ryan's girlfriend, The Burger, to Erik's wife---and they realize that while they haven't met, they were essentially in the same place at the same time over Memorial Day in one of my worst ever blacked-out episodes where I managed to SERIOUSLY offend close associates of both of them. You know---it is really special when two groups of friends can come together and bond over my inability to act like a grown-up...
7:07: More commonalities--it turns out that the two friends of mine who are living out my dream of going back to college (not grad school---undergrad over-again with new focus) are not only at the same school, but share some classes. Within moments they've become study partners. Ryan sent me a text message Sunday morning telling me to thank Erik and Julie for their hospitality and to have Julie call him to study. Again--I'm not going to tell you Erik's wife's name---but it isn't Julie. I'm looking forward to what happens when "Julie" does call Ryan...
7:59: This is where the night starts blending in with itself...but I had a conversation with a former Logger and her boyfriend about how I wasn't going to renew my passport because I never want to leave the country again. I barely know these people---after a conversation like that, what are the odds they seek out my company in the future? I'm going to saw low to quite low...
8:38: Flash-forward to Sunday morning. My lips are chapped and torn apart. I realize that I'm massively dehydrated, but why are my lips so thrashed?
Flash-back. The Burger and I show the group that we can both put our entire fists in our mouths. McFly, you're a regular effing Einstein.
8:44: West Virginia goes down to Pitt, giving the numbers 1 and 2 teams in the country an 0-4 record over the past two weeks. We now know that it will be LSU-Ohio State in the National Title Game. I'll reserve comment, as tomorrow's blog will be McFly's solution to the BCS...
9:58: UW loses in absolutely crushing fashion to Hawaii. I'm going to be honest--I was rooting for Hawaii. Yes, I'm looking forward to seeing them and Georgia play...but more so, that loss SHOULD be the game that costs Ty Willingham his job. I'll probably find out that he hasn't been fired by the time this blog is published Monday morning...but there isn't a single fiber of anyone who understands football, business or even simple logic that believes he is fit to hold that position. I'm not going to continue this rant---but it is time. Do the right thing, UW.
10:50: McCaw's girlfriend and I discover full bottles of sparkling wine (California "champagne") in the fridge. You know what's great after about consuming about 40 beers in the past twenty-four hours? Drinking champagne straight from the bottle as you do the butt-dance with your friend's girlfriend.
10:55: As we're dancing, I'm realizing that I don't know ANYONE on the dance floor. Are they invited? This will be interesting...
11:07: I certainly wasn't there for it, but one of the unknown dancing girls is talking to Eastcoast by the bar. I don't know exactly what was said, but it broke down to her telling Eastcoast that she'd sleep with him if he could score them some coke...then Eastcoast explaining that he is pretty sure that not only does he not know how to get coke, he doesn't know someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows how to get coke. In other news however--Eastcoast, a fledgling stand up comedian, has a whole act prepared because he just had his first encounter with an ACTUAL cokewhore.
11:39: After an unpleasant conversation between one of the cokewhores and Erik's wife, Erik stands on a chair and gives the ever-phenomenal: "If you weren't invited, get the F out of my house!" speech. With a little more encouragement, the cokewhores and their boyfriends leave.
11:53: My brother, McCaw's girlfriend and I are talking. Now--my brother and I are the two least-violent people on Earth----but McCaw's girlfriend is the instigator of all instigators. In two seconds, she has us convinced that the cokewhores are probably outside and we should go "regulate". Eh--why not??
11:54: Sure enough, they're right outside the building window trying to get back in. I open the door and the lead-cokewhore comes darting through. Me--in a high point of my life--give her a full punch/push right to the chest and knock her back about five feet. Yes, I hit a chick. But the amazing thing was that none of the guys she was with got mad---and none of the girls in our crew thought it was anything but absolutely appropriate for me to punch the chick. Maybe I've been going about it all wrong?? Maybe I should have just gone Billy Idol and beat the tar out of women wherever I went?? Yeah...let's go with that...
12:07: The keg is finally kicked. No worries--there is still a bartender making gin and tonics where there is six-times as much gin as there is tonic...the blackouts will continue to get deeper for a couple more hours...
12:31: One of the girls breaks out the panini-maker. Okay--if I'm throwing a party that is winding down and one of my guests breaks out my panini-maker, I absolutely hit the roof. Erik/wife don't notice...probably because their livers have been checked-out for three hours now...but I digest...
12:49: Billy passed out on the couch, face-first, about two hours ago. I remembered my friend Willard's college tradition of covering passed-out people with newspaper. My brother and I don't have any newspaper, so we decide to use every cushion on the couch, a large bag of garbage, a 49ers football helmet, and ultimately my brother's body---what can I say? We're resourceful.
12:58: It is only moments before Eastcoast decides that the 49ers helmet would be better-used on his head. So he dons it, goes outside, and starts wandering the neighborhood in a football helmet. When the police eventually (and inevitably) question him as to what he's doing, he says he's working on his 40 time. When they ask his name? "Jerry Rice." Somehow, he has avoided criminal prosecution twice today...
1:14: Erik and his wife's place is a beautiful condo in an old building. Completely restored and luxurious...but still with some of the old-building nuances...not the least of which is noisy plumbing from the neighbors. At this point of the evening Erik decides it is a good idea to put the remnants of the 20 or so limes and lemons Mo and I had cut earlier down the garbage disposal. Needless to say---his wife (and almost certainly his neighbors) DID NOT think that that was a good idea.
1:31: It is pretty much back to the core group--but Pete is passed out on a poorly-balanced stool in the kitchen, somehow leaning on a bunch of cookbooks that should be spilling all over the floor. Me, being a good friend, decide to hang a decorative pine cone-on-a-ribbon around his neck. Let me tell you--it was G**D*** adorable...
1:40: Do you know when it is time for you to leave a party that you're a guest of? When the people sleeping there start blowing up aerobeds in plain-sight.
Epilogue:
It took me all of about three seconds to pass out on my futon next to the Christmas tree. Apparently, moments after I went out, the toilet started overflowing all over the place, and every towel in the house became dedicated to cleanup.
As always, I was first up, went to the bathroom, grabbed a towel from the oddly-place stack of partially-used towels and shower up.
Yes, I dried myself with a poop-towel. A perfect ending to a a night where I made approximately zero good decisions...
SEE YOU NEXT YEAR!!!
mcflyblogs@gmail.com
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
11.29.07
From the Arnolds...
I was actually shocked--I got ten mailbag questions, which is about ten more comments on my blog that I normally get...
So I had to turn a couple away...my apologies...
Dear McFly,
I realize you're not my biggest fan, but what about me do you dislike the most?
Tyrone Willingham
(Temporarily) Seattle, WA
This may come as a surprise actually---it isn't even something he does on the field or in preparation for a game...
Have you ever heard an interview with him? He always finishes them by saying, (yada yada yada) "and GO DAWGS."
Which--on the surface--is fine.
HOWEVER...Captain Boring manages to screw up the phrase to such a bothersome level that I can barely stand it. He sounds like George Muresan after he was drafted by the Bullets saying, "I LOVE THIS GAME" as though "Go Dawgs" are the only two English words that Willingham knows and he's having trouble getting them out.
Can you even imagine the pregame pep-talks with Willingham? They'd make the crap that Lou Holtz is doing on ESPN look like Patton.
Dear McFly,
I don't want to get specific, but my roommate and I occasionally get into arguments about history and he always leans on the "I was a History Major" defense---but I'm pretty sure he's wrong almost 100% of the time. Does his defense have any weight??
Jack Tripper
Seattle, WA
No.
Absolutely no.
Two key examples:
1. I used to get into arguments with someone who was an English major and he can barely read. Yet whenever something would come down to language, he'd lean on his BS major. (Pun intended.)
2. I was a finance major and I know nothing about finance---but at least I admit it. I focused on finance because I DIDN'T understand it...but I find the people that lean on their degree for legitimacy are the people that don't understand ANYTHING.
And in a corresponding conversation---what about these people who are always saying that someone is "really smart" despite them being a dope-smoking burden on society. "Oh--but he's REALLY smart"...you used to hear this all the time in college---the one common denominator? Everyone who was identified as such was a pot-buddy of the person describing them as such.
LOOK--just because you know the details of the Chronicles of Narnia and can debate it at length while stoned does not mean that I want to hire you.
Dear McFly,
Hey, here's a good quote from Bo Jackson:
"If you're my enemy and you're by the side of the road with a flat tire, and it's 20 below zero, I'm going to stop and throw a gallon of water on you and keep going."
Is this the most ridiculous display of competitiveness you've ever heard of?
Erik
San Francisco, CA
No actually. I mean--it's a very ridiculous statement from someone who looks about as athletic right now as Steven Hawking.
(That's really not fair--Bo has gotten fat...but he is unquestionably the most-versatile athlete of my lifetime. A HAIR more athletic than Lance Armstrong...just a hair.)
(Sidebar--I'm watching the Shrek Christmas Special--who has more odd looking skin? Cameron Diaz as an ogre or Cameron Diaz?)
(Continued sidebar--the gingerbread man just picked up an actual gingerbread cookie made to look like an angel, put his arm around it, gave it a learing eye, and said, "How many stars did you hit on your way down from heaven?"----I don't care who you are--that's funny.)
But I digest...
Here are a few other ridiculous comments I've heard from athletes before in regard to their adversaries:
"If he was on fire, I wouldn't cross the street to pee him out." "It isn't that I hate him--it is just that my urinary tract is permanently damaged since I attempted to snort cocaine through it."
-Lawrence Taylor
"If someone is between me and the end zone--I don't care if it is my mother--I'm running through that person." "This is particularly true for my mother, because she abused me as a child."
-Christian Okoye
"A man confronts you, he's the enemy, and the enemy deserves no mercy." "Unless of course I'm playing against someone who is tall or short...or thin or fat...or male or female...or right-handed or left-handed..."
-Phil Mickelson
or my personal favorite:
"When I'm confronted with an opponent, I prepare, I train, and then I do everything I possibly can...to make sure I make 10-15 unforgivable mistakes during the course of the game to ensure that my team loses."
-Tyrone Willingham
Dear McFly,
When did the Christmas Music playlist work its way into primary rotation on your IPOD?
Tom
Washington DC
I don't know if it is an inherent lack of Christmas Spirit or living in a place where it is far too warm to appreciate "The Little Drummer Boy", but I really haven't been on my game with this kind of thing this year. I mean--YES--I turned the "CHRISTMAS MUSIC" playlist back on on the IPOD in mid-November, but because of my new-found commitment to being more social in the gym, I've resided to listening to the 24 Hour Fitness techno-version of Bo Bice's The Real Thing instead of the Transiberian Orchestra.
Dear McFly,
With the holiday season upon us I was wondering if you could offer some etiquette advice for holiday parties. gift giving, alcohol consumption, invitations, what-have-you...
Anne
San Jose, CA
A perfect segue into my weekend in San Francisco (which actually begins tonight, so no blog tomorrow...).
(Sidebar--the segment of Best in Show where Fred Willard announces just came on. He's arguably the funniest character actor in film today. "Oh--I went to one of those obedience schools once. It was all going fine until one of the instructors poured hot wax on my private parts...")
But I digest...
We'll go from top-to-bottom:
Invitations:
The Evite is pretty standard at this point...unless you're looking for a genuinely formal, sit-down kind of evening. RSVP is even MORE vital at Christmas time because the hosts put so much effort into fancy appetizers, specialty drinks and desserts. Not RSVPing to a Christmas Party should earn you an automatic spot on Santa's "NAUGHTY" list...and my "TO THROW FROM A MOVING CAR" list.
Dress:
On the Westcoast, everything is seemingly more casual, so in many cases, people (particularly men) can get away with a nice pair of jeans, so long as it is complimented with a nice sweater or dress-shirt or something. Girls can wear dresses if they like, but just a note---if you wear a formal dress to a Christmas party, you look like a complete whore. I've seen it done...
Oh--and for the record--I realize that "Funny Christmas Sweaters" are like the mullet of December---just corny and cliched.
Look--like getting invited to a Trucker Hat Party, if you get invited to a Christmas Sweater, you go--because everyone is going to be VERY drunk...but if you're just invited to a cocktail-style Christmas Party at a friends house, if you show up with a corny Christmas Sweater, you're going to be about as popular as a liberal at an NRA meeting...
Gifts:
Simple. Unless gifts are stipulated in the invitation, a bottle of wine for the host/hostess will be more than adequate. How much do you spend? Depends on the wine-drinker. A novice, $10-15 is fine...but bringing a bottle of Turning Leaf to the house of someone with taste is about as useful as cell-phone on LOST island. So if you're invited to a wine snob's house...you're looking at at least $35.
(Oh--and if you have gifts for other attendees, think second grade: unless you have something for everyone, don't bring something for ANYONE.)
Behavior/Alcohol Consumption:
(The two sort of go hand-in-hand...)
If you're seated at a table and you get drunk, you're either a whore or an a-hole.
If you're standing in the kitchen leaning between the keg and fridge, do like I'm planning to this weekend and make sure that your digestive system is so racked with poison that you won't be able to eat for several days.
Mailbag questions are always welcome...
mcflyblogs@gmail.com
I was actually shocked--I got ten mailbag questions, which is about ten more comments on my blog that I normally get...
So I had to turn a couple away...my apologies...
Dear McFly,
I realize you're not my biggest fan, but what about me do you dislike the most?
Tyrone Willingham
(Temporarily) Seattle, WA
This may come as a surprise actually---it isn't even something he does on the field or in preparation for a game...
Have you ever heard an interview with him? He always finishes them by saying, (yada yada yada) "and GO DAWGS."
Which--on the surface--is fine.
HOWEVER...Captain Boring manages to screw up the phrase to such a bothersome level that I can barely stand it. He sounds like George Muresan after he was drafted by the Bullets saying, "I LOVE THIS GAME" as though "Go Dawgs" are the only two English words that Willingham knows and he's having trouble getting them out.
Can you even imagine the pregame pep-talks with Willingham? They'd make the crap that Lou Holtz is doing on ESPN look like Patton.
Dear McFly,
I don't want to get specific, but my roommate and I occasionally get into arguments about history and he always leans on the "I was a History Major" defense---but I'm pretty sure he's wrong almost 100% of the time. Does his defense have any weight??
Jack Tripper
Seattle, WA
No.
Absolutely no.
Two key examples:
1. I used to get into arguments with someone who was an English major and he can barely read. Yet whenever something would come down to language, he'd lean on his BS major. (Pun intended.)
2. I was a finance major and I know nothing about finance---but at least I admit it. I focused on finance because I DIDN'T understand it...but I find the people that lean on their degree for legitimacy are the people that don't understand ANYTHING.
And in a corresponding conversation---what about these people who are always saying that someone is "really smart" despite them being a dope-smoking burden on society. "Oh--but he's REALLY smart"...you used to hear this all the time in college---the one common denominator? Everyone who was identified as such was a pot-buddy of the person describing them as such.
LOOK--just because you know the details of the Chronicles of Narnia and can debate it at length while stoned does not mean that I want to hire you.
Dear McFly,
Hey, here's a good quote from Bo Jackson:
"If you're my enemy and you're by the side of the road with a flat tire, and it's 20 below zero, I'm going to stop and throw a gallon of water on you and keep going."
Is this the most ridiculous display of competitiveness you've ever heard of?
Erik
San Francisco, CA
No actually. I mean--it's a very ridiculous statement from someone who looks about as athletic right now as Steven Hawking.
(That's really not fair--Bo has gotten fat...but he is unquestionably the most-versatile athlete of my lifetime. A HAIR more athletic than Lance Armstrong...just a hair.)
(Sidebar--I'm watching the Shrek Christmas Special--who has more odd looking skin? Cameron Diaz as an ogre or Cameron Diaz?)
(Continued sidebar--the gingerbread man just picked up an actual gingerbread cookie made to look like an angel, put his arm around it, gave it a learing eye, and said, "How many stars did you hit on your way down from heaven?"----I don't care who you are--that's funny.)
But I digest...
Here are a few other ridiculous comments I've heard from athletes before in regard to their adversaries:
"If he was on fire, I wouldn't cross the street to pee him out." "It isn't that I hate him--it is just that my urinary tract is permanently damaged since I attempted to snort cocaine through it."
-Lawrence Taylor
"If someone is between me and the end zone--I don't care if it is my mother--I'm running through that person." "This is particularly true for my mother, because she abused me as a child."
-Christian Okoye
"A man confronts you, he's the enemy, and the enemy deserves no mercy." "Unless of course I'm playing against someone who is tall or short...or thin or fat...or male or female...or right-handed or left-handed..."
-Phil Mickelson
or my personal favorite:
"When I'm confronted with an opponent, I prepare, I train, and then I do everything I possibly can...to make sure I make 10-15 unforgivable mistakes during the course of the game to ensure that my team loses."
-Tyrone Willingham
Dear McFly,
When did the Christmas Music playlist work its way into primary rotation on your IPOD?
Tom
Washington DC
I don't know if it is an inherent lack of Christmas Spirit or living in a place where it is far too warm to appreciate "The Little Drummer Boy", but I really haven't been on my game with this kind of thing this year. I mean--YES--I turned the "CHRISTMAS MUSIC" playlist back on on the IPOD in mid-November, but because of my new-found commitment to being more social in the gym, I've resided to listening to the 24 Hour Fitness techno-version of Bo Bice's The Real Thing instead of the Transiberian Orchestra.
Dear McFly,
With the holiday season upon us I was wondering if you could offer some etiquette advice for holiday parties. gift giving, alcohol consumption, invitations, what-have-you...
Anne
San Jose, CA
A perfect segue into my weekend in San Francisco (which actually begins tonight, so no blog tomorrow...).
(Sidebar--the segment of Best in Show where Fred Willard announces just came on. He's arguably the funniest character actor in film today. "Oh--I went to one of those obedience schools once. It was all going fine until one of the instructors poured hot wax on my private parts...")
But I digest...
We'll go from top-to-bottom:
Invitations:
The Evite is pretty standard at this point...unless you're looking for a genuinely formal, sit-down kind of evening. RSVP is even MORE vital at Christmas time because the hosts put so much effort into fancy appetizers, specialty drinks and desserts. Not RSVPing to a Christmas Party should earn you an automatic spot on Santa's "NAUGHTY" list...and my "TO THROW FROM A MOVING CAR" list.
Dress:
On the Westcoast, everything is seemingly more casual, so in many cases, people (particularly men) can get away with a nice pair of jeans, so long as it is complimented with a nice sweater or dress-shirt or something. Girls can wear dresses if they like, but just a note---if you wear a formal dress to a Christmas party, you look like a complete whore. I've seen it done...
Oh--and for the record--I realize that "Funny Christmas Sweaters" are like the mullet of December---just corny and cliched.
Look--like getting invited to a Trucker Hat Party, if you get invited to a Christmas Sweater, you go--because everyone is going to be VERY drunk...but if you're just invited to a cocktail-style Christmas Party at a friends house, if you show up with a corny Christmas Sweater, you're going to be about as popular as a liberal at an NRA meeting...
Gifts:
Simple. Unless gifts are stipulated in the invitation, a bottle of wine for the host/hostess will be more than adequate. How much do you spend? Depends on the wine-drinker. A novice, $10-15 is fine...but bringing a bottle of Turning Leaf to the house of someone with taste is about as useful as cell-phone on LOST island. So if you're invited to a wine snob's house...you're looking at at least $35.
(Oh--and if you have gifts for other attendees, think second grade: unless you have something for everyone, don't bring something for ANYONE.)
Behavior/Alcohol Consumption:
(The two sort of go hand-in-hand...)
If you're seated at a table and you get drunk, you're either a whore or an a-hole.
If you're standing in the kitchen leaning between the keg and fridge, do like I'm planning to this weekend and make sure that your digestive system is so racked with poison that you won't be able to eat for several days.
Mailbag questions are always welcome...
mcflyblogs@gmail.com
11.28.07
More on Tyrone...
Thank you Tom for sending me this article by Steve Kelley in today's Seattle Times.
While his argument is neither original or particularly dynamic, it is dead-on. (A couple interesting points---my favorite that Ty would need to go 19-5 in the next two years just to equal Bill Doba's record that he was fired for this week.)
Simply put: Ty Willingham might have a chance to improve the UW program---but if you can bring someone in who has a better chance to do so, you have to make the move. Ty has had three years and it is time for him to go.
That is some SERIOUS SH*T...
Okay...I did hot yoga last night.
People laugh at the "workout" that yoga is...and okay--it is exaggerated stretching and contorting. I agree---it alone isn't enough to get you in shape.
HOWEVER...doing it in a 115 degree room for 90 minutes is a pretty f***ing good start!
I can honestly say that my body has never been so tired as it was last night...I tried to come up with some comparisons on the difficulty scale--this is all that I came up with:
-Swimming across the Atlantic Ocean without breathing.
-Doing 3,000 crunches while someone is kicking you in the head.
-Attempting to brush your teeth without using your arms.
-Climbing Mt. Everest without oxygen (which, coincidentally, is Jon Brockman's greatest ambition.)
-Getting in and out of Kinko's in under 30 minutes.
Still don't believe me??
I weighed myself before I left. Then, during the prep, the workout, and the drive home, I drank approximately 100 oz of water...then I weighed myself again...
I LOST FIVE POUNDS!!!!!!!!
More on San Francisco...
I was asked by one of the Arnolds yesterday what part of the weekend I am looking forward to most...
Hmm...
Here are some possibilities:
-Mo getting off of the plane early Friday and within four seconds of saying hello, asking when we're going to start drinking.
-Seeing if Josh has the courage to wear the plaid pants again.
-The anticipation at lunch, knowing that McCaw got on his flight with about 20 Southwest Drink Coupons, wondering precisely how plastered he'll be when he meets up with us at 3 PM.
-McCaw's girlfriend flying home about four hours after getting there and telling McCaw to never call her again.
-A certain new-mother who is inevitably going to get drunk and, while her husband is around, start talking about all of the guys we know that she's slept with.
-Our annual trip to the Safeway at the Marina that will inevitably put one of us in prison for stalking.
-Jon BROCKMAN and the UW Basketball Team playing Oklahoma State on ESPN at 2:30 pm on Saturday.
-McCaw's breakfast Jager shots.
-Counting the number of bars that the New Zealand-Montana duo get kicked out of, and the number of times they make disparaging comments about each-other's wives.
-Wells Fargo ATMs on every street corner that make it feel like I'm not spending $500 a day on nothing.
The winner though??
-Enjoying the irony of 72 hours of complete debauchery in celebration of the birth of Jesus.
I'd love to do a mailbag tomorrow... mcflyblogs@gmail.com
Thank you Tom for sending me this article by Steve Kelley in today's Seattle Times.
While his argument is neither original or particularly dynamic, it is dead-on. (A couple interesting points---my favorite that Ty would need to go 19-5 in the next two years just to equal Bill Doba's record that he was fired for this week.)
Simply put: Ty Willingham might have a chance to improve the UW program---but if you can bring someone in who has a better chance to do so, you have to make the move. Ty has had three years and it is time for him to go.
That is some SERIOUS SH*T...
Okay...I did hot yoga last night.
People laugh at the "workout" that yoga is...and okay--it is exaggerated stretching and contorting. I agree---it alone isn't enough to get you in shape.
HOWEVER...doing it in a 115 degree room for 90 minutes is a pretty f***ing good start!
I can honestly say that my body has never been so tired as it was last night...I tried to come up with some comparisons on the difficulty scale--this is all that I came up with:
-Swimming across the Atlantic Ocean without breathing.
-Doing 3,000 crunches while someone is kicking you in the head.
-Attempting to brush your teeth without using your arms.
-Climbing Mt. Everest without oxygen (which, coincidentally, is Jon Brockman's greatest ambition.)
-Getting in and out of Kinko's in under 30 minutes.
Still don't believe me??
I weighed myself before I left. Then, during the prep, the workout, and the drive home, I drank approximately 100 oz of water...then I weighed myself again...
I LOST FIVE POUNDS!!!!!!!!
More on San Francisco...
I was asked by one of the Arnolds yesterday what part of the weekend I am looking forward to most...
Hmm...
Here are some possibilities:
-Mo getting off of the plane early Friday and within four seconds of saying hello, asking when we're going to start drinking.
-Seeing if Josh has the courage to wear the plaid pants again.
-The anticipation at lunch, knowing that McCaw got on his flight with about 20 Southwest Drink Coupons, wondering precisely how plastered he'll be when he meets up with us at 3 PM.
-McCaw's girlfriend flying home about four hours after getting there and telling McCaw to never call her again.
-A certain new-mother who is inevitably going to get drunk and, while her husband is around, start talking about all of the guys we know that she's slept with.
-Our annual trip to the Safeway at the Marina that will inevitably put one of us in prison for stalking.
-Jon BROCKMAN and the UW Basketball Team playing Oklahoma State on ESPN at 2:30 pm on Saturday.
-McCaw's breakfast Jager shots.
-Counting the number of bars that the New Zealand-Montana duo get kicked out of, and the number of times they make disparaging comments about each-other's wives.
-Wells Fargo ATMs on every street corner that make it feel like I'm not spending $500 a day on nothing.
The winner though??
-Enjoying the irony of 72 hours of complete debauchery in celebration of the birth of Jesus.
I'd love to do a mailbag tomorrow... mcflyblogs@gmail.com
Monday, November 26, 2007
11.27.07
The Most-Wonderful Time of the Year...
We're merely hours until the first weekend of December, which means that I'm stretching 14 hours a day and have an IV hooked up to prepare my liver for my friend Erik's Christmas Party in San Francisco. I know this week will lead to a plethora of predictions, thoughts and comments about the impending weekend (culminating with my best attempt at a recap blow-by-blow chronicle of the first twenty-four hours of what has an opportunity to be the most ridiculous of this sixth annual event.)
So--to put you guys in the mood, I thought I'd reprint last year's recap...which really wasn't so much a recap of the weekend as much as it was a recap of my friend McCaw's first thirteen hours of the weekend. That's really all the prep you need...enjoy...
(Note--this blog was originally published in December, 2006. I've added a few notes, which are emphasized by italics.)
As usual, I wuss'd out and didn't do what I said I was going to do. I don't have NEARLY the time, nor the remaining brain (and liver) cells to explain our entire weekend in San Francisco…but I can chronicle our friend McCaw's first 13 hours of the trip. I hope you enjoy…
4:12 McCaw calls with his first meaningless grunt of the trip. He makes noises instead of identifying himself or saying words…we know him well enough to understand him most of the time, and seeing as how it is 4 am on a Friday, I know who is calling…apparently there is some confusion as to where I'm picking he/Mo up…he did inform me however that I needed to hurry up because he's "freezing his baguettes off."
4:19 I've successfully picked them up, but have also spilled 1/3 a bottle of Taking Rain all over the front of my car…time will tell whether the sugar content in that stuff is as low as they say…I have odds on my seats being even stickier than normal. McCaw is asking whether the bar at the airport will be open when we get there…this is going to go WELL.
5:09 Time for my first round of Airborne…I'm freakishly hot and sweaty. This is a theme for the weekend…maybe it is the "getting over the cold" and maybe it became the "massive amounts of alcohol", but I kept getting this odd pins/needles feeling where I'm about to break out in a sweat. Not pleasant…in other news, McCaw has successfully put "867-5309" into my head. Great.
6:02 We've boarded the plane and with the Southwest cattle call, take an exit row for the three of us…turns out there are only about 19 people on this flight, and we're the three homos sitting next to each other. And I'm pretty sure McCaw is already asleep.
6:44 Airborne round II…I think my urine could cut through diamond it is so acidic.
8:01: After an uneventful flight, we land in Oakland. This is the sh*tt**st airport on Earth (Sidebar--apparently I used to print swearing in my blog...I've cut it out for my new, tamer audience)…the ceiling is all exposed and has random wires hanging from it…this can't possibly be up to code. Fortunately, we flew Southwest and have baggage pickup in the new portion of the airport…we get there, start waiting for our bags. "Dollar bet on whose bag is out first?" ABSOLUTELY.
8:02: I've won two dollars…this town is expensive, but frivolous bets like this could keep my inevitable $700 bar bill within reason.
8:10 My brother is late…or we are early, so the three of us are sitting on a skycap cart…McCaw is on his third cup of coffee of the morning, farts and tells us about it…as always, we wait to smell it before moving. It's the fartgame son, you'll play it some day!
8:19 McCaw is sitting next to me and says, "Check this out" I look, only to see him exposing the fist-sized hole in the crotch of his jeans. Lovely. Can we start drinking yet?
8:27: (Browsing the Internet) McCaw says from nowhere, "Wow…that snowstorm really came all over Texas' face." (Note to my normal readers…this blog may be exponentially crasser than others…but I promise you that I'm quoting.) (That note was from the original text...I really can't come up with a way to clean it up and keep the hilarity of the comment that I'd subsequently forgotten.)
8:34: My brother picks us up; McCaw calls him a douche bag and then compliments him on his "California shoes". Yeah, I don't understand either.
8:40: In the car now, my brother questions McCaw about his new girlfriend who is coming down for the weekend that evening…McCaw describes her as "good sh*t" and then begins to describe this one time where he was taking a sh*t.
8:42: Continuing to talk about his girlfriend, McCaw says that she's "really one of the guys" but assures us that she, "Doesn't have a d*ck—so it is cool." (If you want to continue reading and understand…just realize that McCaw's sense of humor has two pieces. One is stating the INCREDIBLY obvious, and the other is saying something that has no possible way of being understood logically. But trust me…he's priceless.)
8:58: My brother starts talking about the creativity of Berkeley MBA students when it comes to getting the University to fund their independent projects. He and a couple others, after hearing that the "Women In Leadership Forum" had been granted a couple thousand dollars the previous week, created the "Men In Leadership Forum" that gave them a little bit of gas money for their trip to LA for the USC/Cal game. (Genius obviously…but even MORE genius when you realize what acronym their new group creates.)
9:10: Arrive at my brother's apartment…McCaw finally cracks the seal, and after four cups of coffee that morning, has the day's first beer. If it lasted 30 seconds, it lasted a month.
9:27: McCaw explains to us, that via about 7 different tactics, all of which are probably enough to have you arrested for stalking in most states, you CAN in fact track who has been looking at your myspace page. I'm frightened. And the worst part is that we're pretty confident that he's done all of these things…and RECENTLY.
9:44: Walking down the stairs to go grab a mid-morning snack, McCaw, completely unprompted, suggests that we should make a movie about the four of us called, "Best Detectives" where we'll "go find stuff and people." He's one beer deep…this is going to be an absolute sh*t-show.
9:58: At an Italian Bakery/Deli, Mo orders a meatball sandwich, we all follow-suit, despite knowing that we'll be having lunch in about two hours. McCaw finds the smelliest piece of cheese that he can in the refrigerated case and starts shoving it in my face (think clowns with a cream pie.) I fight it for a while but realize that he's so bored that he will continue to do this until I smell it. I do. It smells like bad breath…this could ruin the entire weekend.
10:08: Still in the deli, eating our sandwiches, McCaw starts singing The OC "California" song at the top of his lungs, frightening the staff of the deli. He explains to us that the song, "really hits hard in a capella." What does that MEAN? (Sidebar--in hindsight this is my second-favorite quote of the weekend from McCaw. My favorite comment followed immediately after this one...)
10:15: Walking back to Nick's place, McCaw asks the group, "If you could have any superpower, which one would it be?" Mo decides he'd like super strength. Nick decides he wants the ability to become invisible. I want the ability to look at a book and suddenly retain every piece of information in it. McCaw says, "I'd just want gigantic balls." (You seriously can't make this stuff up. It is all true, I PROMISE.)
10:51: Nick is reading the Economist while the other three of us are playing "I spy" in his apartment. He says, "There is an article in here about ram sperm. It's called "Ramalamadingdong." (Oh…Mo has drank his first beer and McCaw has now downed three…we're well on our way to pumping his stomach.)
11:59: After driving to San Francisco, dropping our stuff at Erik's place, then driving back downtown, we show up at a restaurant that could only be described as "Appleby's for Berkeley graduates." The menu is so-so, the beer is expensive and highly encouraged, and there is Cal stuff EVERYWHERE. Add to that the "Big Game" is tomorrow, and all of the obnoxiousness of the alumni of that university is shining through to full-tilt. We order our first round of beers (Erik and Josh are with us now) and I miscount and order seven. Erik says, "Don't worry, whoever finishes their beer first will get the award of having a second." On cue, despite not hearing Erik's comment, McCaw grabs his beer and pounds it, right in front of the server. He's halfway-down beer two before we remind him that his lady friend is coming into town in less than 7 hours. Bets are now being taken on whether he'll be a) awake and b) alive when Jenny shows up.
12:40: Pete has now joined us…we have an extra chair at our table, which he informs us will be filled shortly by "a guy named Bob." Five minutes later, as we're ALL about 3 beers deep, and McCaw is sitting on number 8, Bob shows up. He asks, "Are all of you guys in town for Erik's party?" McCaw responds, "No, I'm just here to anally rape this guy" (points to Erik.) It was at this point that we are informed that Bob is Pete and Erik's boss. God help us.
1:15: There are a group of about five obnoxious Cal alums, all about forty, all drinking heavily on their lunch break. Four guys, one blackish-chick with really short (1/2 inch) bleached blonde hair and a business suit. Somehow one of these DB's makes eye-contact with me and he starts giving me sh*t, saying that I "must be a Stanford fan"…I act confused and wonder why he's even talking to me…so he says, "What are you guys drinking?!?" "Beer" I respond. "Okay funny guy…a round for these guys!" As he says this, he turns back to the bartender he's just ordered from and tries to hide the fact that he's holding up a "1" finger, saying that he's only buying the round for me. VERY faux paus. Regardless…the beer comes, and before I can get to it, McCaw has pounded it. He's going to die of alcohol poisoning…I promise.
1:28: The table has received their meals and is drinking a little more, and conversation has come to a near halt. Out of nowhere, McCaw says, "My boss is an assface." (Sorry...again, some of these I just can't edit.)
2:07: McCaw just pounded another beer, unprompted. Keep in mind…he's about 6'1", 165…not a big guy. He's GOING to puke at the table…it is only a matter of time. Last year on the same trip when he got to this point of drunkenness, we were at a sushi place and after we'd finished eating dinner, he started pounding people's soy/wasabi cups. (The next morning he woke up and his first words were, "Man…I'm thirsty." NO KIDDING????) (We're going back to that sushi place this year. His girlfriend will be with him the ENTIRE weekend, so it could mitigate some ridiculousness...but he'll be an absolute failure if he doesn't repeat the stunt.)
2:08: McCaw explains in detail how excited he is for this beer and food to travel through his body and out his bowels. And no…he's not this strange—we're completely egging-on a guy who has now probably had 13 drinks…we just can't get enough of it.
2:48: We've now changed locations to a bar called, "The Old Ship". In our abundant creativity, we call it, "The Old Sh*t." Laughter ensues…the first game of "Spoof" is called. (Drinking game…all you need to know is that the first person to win picks the type of round (ex: Bud Light, shots of tequila, etc.) and we slowly wind down until two people are left…they square off, and the loser BUYS the round that the other person has ordered. It is fun, strategic, and VERY costly.) I end up in the final two the first game, which frustrates me because I'm not as drunk as some of these people, and I'm much better at this game…fortunately, Josh, a rookie, tips his hand and I capitalize.
3:16: McCaw is singing the "til the night closes in" line from "Endless Love" in soprano at the top of his lungs…we're going to be removed from this bar…likely by force. He goes on to explain to us that he feels, "warm and fuzzy." (He's had about three more beers now…I have him pegged on or around 17 drinks.)
4:06: Some jackass picks tequila when they win at Spoof…to no surprise, when the salt spills, McCaw throws the whole shaker over his shoulder (ala Dumb and Dumber), hitting another table full of people. He's at about 20 drinks now…Jenny will be here in 2.5 hours.
4:51: After hearing that he is, "Cooler than eastcoast McCaw" (another guy we know who looks and acts very similar) he celebrates by pounding two beers. (This doesn't make much sense to outsiders. There was a college friend named Homchick...for two years we'd been calling McCaw "Westcoast Homchick"...six months previous to this, at my brother's bachelor party, when both were there, we decided that Homchick was now "Eastcoast McCaw".) (Wow...you guys must feel at ease after that lengthy explanation.)
At this point, I grabbed a cab and met up with some friends in the Marina. I have him at about 22 drinks…apparently he didn't slow down that night, and I promise you that he didn't the rest of the weekend. I don't think I'd be exaggerating to say that between 9 am Friday and about midnight Sunday morning, when he finally vomited he had somewhere in the neighborhood of sixty drinks. We're now on the plane home…he's somehow still alive and somehow still has a girlfriend. A tour de force performance really.
Want to hear more about McCaw??
mcflyblogs@gmail.com
We're merely hours until the first weekend of December, which means that I'm stretching 14 hours a day and have an IV hooked up to prepare my liver for my friend Erik's Christmas Party in San Francisco. I know this week will lead to a plethora of predictions, thoughts and comments about the impending weekend (culminating with my best attempt at a recap blow-by-blow chronicle of the first twenty-four hours of what has an opportunity to be the most ridiculous of this sixth annual event.)
So--to put you guys in the mood, I thought I'd reprint last year's recap...which really wasn't so much a recap of the weekend as much as it was a recap of my friend McCaw's first thirteen hours of the weekend. That's really all the prep you need...enjoy...
(Note--this blog was originally published in December, 2006. I've added a few notes, which are emphasized by italics.)
As usual, I wuss'd out and didn't do what I said I was going to do. I don't have NEARLY the time, nor the remaining brain (and liver) cells to explain our entire weekend in San Francisco…but I can chronicle our friend McCaw's first 13 hours of the trip. I hope you enjoy…
4:12 McCaw calls with his first meaningless grunt of the trip. He makes noises instead of identifying himself or saying words…we know him well enough to understand him most of the time, and seeing as how it is 4 am on a Friday, I know who is calling…apparently there is some confusion as to where I'm picking he/Mo up…he did inform me however that I needed to hurry up because he's "freezing his baguettes off."
4:19 I've successfully picked them up, but have also spilled 1/3 a bottle of Taking Rain all over the front of my car…time will tell whether the sugar content in that stuff is as low as they say…I have odds on my seats being even stickier than normal. McCaw is asking whether the bar at the airport will be open when we get there…this is going to go WELL.
5:09 Time for my first round of Airborne…I'm freakishly hot and sweaty. This is a theme for the weekend…maybe it is the "getting over the cold" and maybe it became the "massive amounts of alcohol", but I kept getting this odd pins/needles feeling where I'm about to break out in a sweat. Not pleasant…in other news, McCaw has successfully put "867-5309" into my head. Great.
6:02 We've boarded the plane and with the Southwest cattle call, take an exit row for the three of us…turns out there are only about 19 people on this flight, and we're the three homos sitting next to each other. And I'm pretty sure McCaw is already asleep.
6:44 Airborne round II…I think my urine could cut through diamond it is so acidic.
8:01: After an uneventful flight, we land in Oakland. This is the sh*tt**st airport on Earth (Sidebar--apparently I used to print swearing in my blog...I've cut it out for my new, tamer audience)…the ceiling is all exposed and has random wires hanging from it…this can't possibly be up to code. Fortunately, we flew Southwest and have baggage pickup in the new portion of the airport…we get there, start waiting for our bags. "Dollar bet on whose bag is out first?" ABSOLUTELY.
8:02: I've won two dollars…this town is expensive, but frivolous bets like this could keep my inevitable $700 bar bill within reason.
8:10 My brother is late…or we are early, so the three of us are sitting on a skycap cart…McCaw is on his third cup of coffee of the morning, farts and tells us about it…as always, we wait to smell it before moving. It's the fartgame son, you'll play it some day!
8:19 McCaw is sitting next to me and says, "Check this out" I look, only to see him exposing the fist-sized hole in the crotch of his jeans. Lovely. Can we start drinking yet?
8:27: (Browsing the Internet) McCaw says from nowhere, "Wow…that snowstorm really came all over Texas' face." (Note to my normal readers…this blog may be exponentially crasser than others…but I promise you that I'm quoting.) (That note was from the original text...I really can't come up with a way to clean it up and keep the hilarity of the comment that I'd subsequently forgotten.)
8:34: My brother picks us up; McCaw calls him a douche bag and then compliments him on his "California shoes". Yeah, I don't understand either.
8:40: In the car now, my brother questions McCaw about his new girlfriend who is coming down for the weekend that evening…McCaw describes her as "good sh*t" and then begins to describe this one time where he was taking a sh*t.
8:42: Continuing to talk about his girlfriend, McCaw says that she's "really one of the guys" but assures us that she, "Doesn't have a d*ck—so it is cool." (If you want to continue reading and understand…just realize that McCaw's sense of humor has two pieces. One is stating the INCREDIBLY obvious, and the other is saying something that has no possible way of being understood logically. But trust me…he's priceless.)
8:58: My brother starts talking about the creativity of Berkeley MBA students when it comes to getting the University to fund their independent projects. He and a couple others, after hearing that the "Women In Leadership Forum" had been granted a couple thousand dollars the previous week, created the "Men In Leadership Forum" that gave them a little bit of gas money for their trip to LA for the USC/Cal game. (Genius obviously…but even MORE genius when you realize what acronym their new group creates.)
9:10: Arrive at my brother's apartment…McCaw finally cracks the seal, and after four cups of coffee that morning, has the day's first beer. If it lasted 30 seconds, it lasted a month.
9:27: McCaw explains to us, that via about 7 different tactics, all of which are probably enough to have you arrested for stalking in most states, you CAN in fact track who has been looking at your myspace page. I'm frightened. And the worst part is that we're pretty confident that he's done all of these things…and RECENTLY.
9:44: Walking down the stairs to go grab a mid-morning snack, McCaw, completely unprompted, suggests that we should make a movie about the four of us called, "Best Detectives" where we'll "go find stuff and people." He's one beer deep…this is going to be an absolute sh*t-show.
9:58: At an Italian Bakery/Deli, Mo orders a meatball sandwich, we all follow-suit, despite knowing that we'll be having lunch in about two hours. McCaw finds the smelliest piece of cheese that he can in the refrigerated case and starts shoving it in my face (think clowns with a cream pie.) I fight it for a while but realize that he's so bored that he will continue to do this until I smell it. I do. It smells like bad breath…this could ruin the entire weekend.
10:08: Still in the deli, eating our sandwiches, McCaw starts singing The OC "California" song at the top of his lungs, frightening the staff of the deli. He explains to us that the song, "really hits hard in a capella." What does that MEAN? (Sidebar--in hindsight this is my second-favorite quote of the weekend from McCaw. My favorite comment followed immediately after this one...)
10:15: Walking back to Nick's place, McCaw asks the group, "If you could have any superpower, which one would it be?" Mo decides he'd like super strength. Nick decides he wants the ability to become invisible. I want the ability to look at a book and suddenly retain every piece of information in it. McCaw says, "I'd just want gigantic balls." (You seriously can't make this stuff up. It is all true, I PROMISE.)
10:51: Nick is reading the Economist while the other three of us are playing "I spy" in his apartment. He says, "There is an article in here about ram sperm. It's called "Ramalamadingdong." (Oh…Mo has drank his first beer and McCaw has now downed three…we're well on our way to pumping his stomach.)
11:59: After driving to San Francisco, dropping our stuff at Erik's place, then driving back downtown, we show up at a restaurant that could only be described as "Appleby's for Berkeley graduates." The menu is so-so, the beer is expensive and highly encouraged, and there is Cal stuff EVERYWHERE. Add to that the "Big Game" is tomorrow, and all of the obnoxiousness of the alumni of that university is shining through to full-tilt. We order our first round of beers (Erik and Josh are with us now) and I miscount and order seven. Erik says, "Don't worry, whoever finishes their beer first will get the award of having a second." On cue, despite not hearing Erik's comment, McCaw grabs his beer and pounds it, right in front of the server. He's halfway-down beer two before we remind him that his lady friend is coming into town in less than 7 hours. Bets are now being taken on whether he'll be a) awake and b) alive when Jenny shows up.
12:40: Pete has now joined us…we have an extra chair at our table, which he informs us will be filled shortly by "a guy named Bob." Five minutes later, as we're ALL about 3 beers deep, and McCaw is sitting on number 8, Bob shows up. He asks, "Are all of you guys in town for Erik's party?" McCaw responds, "No, I'm just here to anally rape this guy" (points to Erik.) It was at this point that we are informed that Bob is Pete and Erik's boss. God help us.
1:15: There are a group of about five obnoxious Cal alums, all about forty, all drinking heavily on their lunch break. Four guys, one blackish-chick with really short (1/2 inch) bleached blonde hair and a business suit. Somehow one of these DB's makes eye-contact with me and he starts giving me sh*t, saying that I "must be a Stanford fan"…I act confused and wonder why he's even talking to me…so he says, "What are you guys drinking?!?" "Beer" I respond. "Okay funny guy…a round for these guys!" As he says this, he turns back to the bartender he's just ordered from and tries to hide the fact that he's holding up a "1" finger, saying that he's only buying the round for me. VERY faux paus. Regardless…the beer comes, and before I can get to it, McCaw has pounded it. He's going to die of alcohol poisoning…I promise.
1:28: The table has received their meals and is drinking a little more, and conversation has come to a near halt. Out of nowhere, McCaw says, "My boss is an assface." (Sorry...again, some of these I just can't edit.)
2:07: McCaw just pounded another beer, unprompted. Keep in mind…he's about 6'1", 165…not a big guy. He's GOING to puke at the table…it is only a matter of time. Last year on the same trip when he got to this point of drunkenness, we were at a sushi place and after we'd finished eating dinner, he started pounding people's soy/wasabi cups. (The next morning he woke up and his first words were, "Man…I'm thirsty." NO KIDDING????) (We're going back to that sushi place this year. His girlfriend will be with him the ENTIRE weekend, so it could mitigate some ridiculousness...but he'll be an absolute failure if he doesn't repeat the stunt.)
2:08: McCaw explains in detail how excited he is for this beer and food to travel through his body and out his bowels. And no…he's not this strange—we're completely egging-on a guy who has now probably had 13 drinks…we just can't get enough of it.
2:48: We've now changed locations to a bar called, "The Old Ship". In our abundant creativity, we call it, "The Old Sh*t." Laughter ensues…the first game of "Spoof" is called. (Drinking game…all you need to know is that the first person to win picks the type of round (ex: Bud Light, shots of tequila, etc.) and we slowly wind down until two people are left…they square off, and the loser BUYS the round that the other person has ordered. It is fun, strategic, and VERY costly.) I end up in the final two the first game, which frustrates me because I'm not as drunk as some of these people, and I'm much better at this game…fortunately, Josh, a rookie, tips his hand and I capitalize.
3:16: McCaw is singing the "til the night closes in" line from "Endless Love" in soprano at the top of his lungs…we're going to be removed from this bar…likely by force. He goes on to explain to us that he feels, "warm and fuzzy." (He's had about three more beers now…I have him pegged on or around 17 drinks.)
4:06: Some jackass picks tequila when they win at Spoof…to no surprise, when the salt spills, McCaw throws the whole shaker over his shoulder (ala Dumb and Dumber), hitting another table full of people. He's at about 20 drinks now…Jenny will be here in 2.5 hours.
4:51: After hearing that he is, "Cooler than eastcoast McCaw" (another guy we know who looks and acts very similar) he celebrates by pounding two beers. (This doesn't make much sense to outsiders. There was a college friend named Homchick...for two years we'd been calling McCaw "Westcoast Homchick"...six months previous to this, at my brother's bachelor party, when both were there, we decided that Homchick was now "Eastcoast McCaw".) (Wow...you guys must feel at ease after that lengthy explanation.)
At this point, I grabbed a cab and met up with some friends in the Marina. I have him at about 22 drinks…apparently he didn't slow down that night, and I promise you that he didn't the rest of the weekend. I don't think I'd be exaggerating to say that between 9 am Friday and about midnight Sunday morning, when he finally vomited he had somewhere in the neighborhood of sixty drinks. We're now on the plane home…he's somehow still alive and somehow still has a girlfriend. A tour de force performance really.
Want to hear more about McCaw??
mcflyblogs@gmail.com
Sunday, November 25, 2007
11.26.07
Apple Cup...
I've said enough...but I hope that I wasn't the only one of the 72,888 in attendance at Saturday night's debacle that realized that if that Washington State team had shown up against any UW team between 1970 and 2002, Washington probably would have won by thirty.
Yet somehow the program has devolved to a point where their fanbase lets their coach get away with comments like, "I don't know when--but this is going to be a great football team" after his eighth loss (out of an inevitable nine) this season.
This goes beyond the point of personal opinions and to the point that if you cannot see that Tyrone Willingham is unfit to coach the University of Washington Football Team, you are not paying attention.
Judge My Book by its Cover...
I've been wanting to write a book for sometime now, and have written between ten and twenty pages of approximately eight books over the past year.
I've realized however that the traditional model of "write a book and figure out the title later" is leading to incomplete works...so instead, I thought I'd work the other way, and write a title before figuring out what the book was going to be about.
Here are some of the ideas I have so far:
"Will You Shave my Back for Me?"
"Nutmeg makes Everything Better"
"Fred Savage Never Responds to my Letters"
"Turning Sigma Chi Beach into a Human-Litter-Box For Dummies"
"When Daddy Pulls his Groin"
"War: What is it Good For?"
"Ghostriders: A Team without Direction. The story of the 2007 University of Washington Huskies."
"Curtis Patching is a Fatass"
"Everything I need to know I learned by watching Are You Afraid of the Dark?"
"If you do leg-presses, you are not my friend."
"Watch me do an Impression of an Impressionist Artist"
"Wait a Minute...JESUS WAS A JEW???"
mcflyblogs@gmail.com
I've said enough...but I hope that I wasn't the only one of the 72,888 in attendance at Saturday night's debacle that realized that if that Washington State team had shown up against any UW team between 1970 and 2002, Washington probably would have won by thirty.
Yet somehow the program has devolved to a point where their fanbase lets their coach get away with comments like, "I don't know when--but this is going to be a great football team" after his eighth loss (out of an inevitable nine) this season.
This goes beyond the point of personal opinions and to the point that if you cannot see that Tyrone Willingham is unfit to coach the University of Washington Football Team, you are not paying attention.
Judge My Book by its Cover...
I've been wanting to write a book for sometime now, and have written between ten and twenty pages of approximately eight books over the past year.
I've realized however that the traditional model of "write a book and figure out the title later" is leading to incomplete works...so instead, I thought I'd work the other way, and write a title before figuring out what the book was going to be about.
Here are some of the ideas I have so far:
"Will You Shave my Back for Me?"
"Nutmeg makes Everything Better"
"Fred Savage Never Responds to my Letters"
"Turning Sigma Chi Beach into a Human-Litter-Box For Dummies"
"When Daddy Pulls his Groin"
"War: What is it Good For?"
"Ghostriders: A Team without Direction. The story of the 2007 University of Washington Huskies."
"Curtis Patching is a Fatass"
"Everything I need to know I learned by watching Are You Afraid of the Dark?"
"If you do leg-presses, you are not my friend."
"Watch me do an Impression of an Impressionist Artist"
"Wait a Minute...JESUS WAS A JEW???"
mcflyblogs@gmail.com
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
11.21.07
That's About Right...
So I walk into a truck-stop Tuesday (always wanted to start a sentence like that) to use the restroom, as I'd been on the road for 5 of the last 7 hours...
As I walk toward the restroom, I glanced to my right and saw a late-80s-style Video Game Room.
In it were two truckers, playing a car-racing game.
So let me get this straight---you drive for eight hours, realize that you need a break and then you decide to sit play a game where you're driving?
It reminds me of the time that I climbed Mt. Everest and found a guy at the summit on the stairclimber...
REAL College Hoops...
I went to my first UPS Basketball game of the season last night...they were playing at Northwest University. (This sounds like a preseason walk-through---but NWU was an NAIA Final Four team last year, which means they a) have a lot of good players, b) are all on scholarship...a SERIOUS test for the D-III, non-scholarship Logs.)
To my pleasant surprise, the Loggers quite literally ran NWU out of their own gym. I saw that they had preset subs, so I paid attention--before the 16-minute media timeout (do they have those in D-III?) the Loggers had subbed FOURTEEN TIMES, keeping fresh legs on the floor throughout. Their First Team All-American, Jason Foster, had two of the biggest dunks I've ever seen at the small-college level, but the story was clearly Bobby Krauel.
Krauel, a senior, Arizona-native, went for 24 points and at one point in the first half went layin-steal-layin-steal-layin to give the Logs the margin that NWU would never really penetrate. I love this kid--despite being only 6'4", he is a major force inside. ("Major Force"--salute!) Backing in players who have 4 and 5 inches on him, Krauel used both hands to complete a barrage of inside moves that NWU seemed to have no answer for. He plays hard. He plays smart. He is an absolute inspiration to his team.
In short, he is the D-III Jon Brockman. I hope to God this guy is a Phi Delt...
What has Phil Jackson done?
Phil Jackson really set off a storm of ridiculousness...now Captain Tact, Nick Saban has major problems on his hands. ("Major Problems"--salute!) Yesterday he compared Alabama's loss to Louisiana-Monroe to Pearl Harbor and 9-11...
The 9-11 thing got me thinking though...
Does this mean that Alabama fans are going to start putting "IMPEACH SABAN" stickers on their car? It would make sense--I mean, he had knowledge of Louisiana-Monroe prior to the event that he didn't share with the public, and while coaches can't be impeached, neither can presidents for people just not liking them...
Apple Cup Preview:
Item: Edge.
Home Field: Washington (unless douche bags sell their tickets to Cougar fans, which is like renting a room to a termite farmer...which coincidentally is the most-common profession of WSU graduates...)
UW Offense vs. WSU Defense: Washington Offense
WSU Offense vs. UW Defense: WSU Offense (I'm not saying either offense is good...but both these teams have an opportunity to have record-breakingly poor seasons at defense. It has become cliched to say that they are as porous as a siv...so I won't...I'll say they are as porous as a siv with a gigantic hole in it.)
Coaching: Even (Remember that chess match between Bobby Fischer and Boris Spassky? You know--the greatest example of tactics and skill in the history of modern competition? Well...this is just like that, except not at all. Arguably the two most-underqualified coaches in NCAA Division I Football, squaring off. If UW wins, Doba loses his job. If WSU wins, Willingham keeps his job---which is so violent an act against logic that I won't waste your time articulating the point.
Thanksgiving...
So I don't write Top Ten Lists anymore...why? Because they're really just brainstorming exercises and don't test me as a writer. (Oddly enough--they were always what inspired the best response from my readers...maybe that is an indication as to what my true skill set is...)
Anyway...this year I'm thankful for the Arnolds...who put up with my crap every day--so here, for you, are:
The Top Ten Overrated Things about Thanksgiving
10. Gravy: Okay--Thanksgiving food is a little dry, but have you seen what goes into this diarrhea-looking mixture? It is basically fat and cornstarch. My suggestion? Ketchup. I've used it at every Thanksgiving of my life and it has always treated me well---I mean really---what ISN'T good with ketchup on it? I rest my case.
9. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade: Do you watch it? Please email me if you do...I don't ever want to associate with someone who thinks that waiting two hours to see a gigantic Underdog held up by homeless people is time well spent. (You know...when you put it like that...)
8. Friday Shopping: The busiest shopping day of the year, and yet people still insist on perpetuating this "tradition". Next time someone asks you to join them, simply respond, "If I'm going to stand in line and throw down a bunch of money just to give something to someone else, I'm going to a brothel."
7. Triptophan: It supposedly makes you sleepy. You know what makes me sleepy? Hearing people talk about triptophan.*
6. Inviting Outsiders: Don't get me wrong--I think that including those who don't have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving is a generous notion---but do you really want to do that? I mean--if you could assemble 20 people for your friend or coworker to meet, how many different groups would you go through before deciding on your "extended family on a holiday"? 20? 30? I don't think there is a group of people I'd be more frightened to show off than my relatives after three glasses of wine. Speaking of which...
5. Riesling: I have a bit of wine knowledge. Trust me: Riesling is NOT a good pair with turkey? Yes, it has sweet notes that match the more basic turkey, and offers a wine option to non-wine drinkers...but there is a general rule with wine-pairing that you all should follow: DON'T DRINK RIESLING. IT TASTES LIKE SH*T.
4. Wishing people a safe holiday: Why is this so chique? I mean--is there a flood of people deciding to go base-jumping on Thanksgiving Day that I don't know about? Happy Thanksgiving will be FINE, thank you.
3. Turkey Bowl: Look--I love playing pickup football, it is probably the funnest glory-days activity I can think of. But ask ANYONE the day AFTER playing how they feel about it...they'll fake it, but they know full-well that they need 364 days to recover from the prior days' debacle.
2. The Meal: It is a big meal, big f-ing deal. "I love Thanksgiving--there is so much to eat!" It is like we're living in Ethiopia! Go to the Claim Jumper--you can gorge yourself 365 days a year for only $14.95.
1. Watching Football: Why is a holiday so irrevocably tied to football when every Saturday and Sunday in the fall has better than 10x as much football on television as Thanksgiving Day? This will haunt me until my death.
HAVE A SAFE THANKSGIVING, A**H***S!
mcflyblogs@gmail.com
*= Thank you Todd Barry.
So I walk into a truck-stop Tuesday (always wanted to start a sentence like that) to use the restroom, as I'd been on the road for 5 of the last 7 hours...
As I walk toward the restroom, I glanced to my right and saw a late-80s-style Video Game Room.
In it were two truckers, playing a car-racing game.
So let me get this straight---you drive for eight hours, realize that you need a break and then you decide to sit play a game where you're driving?
It reminds me of the time that I climbed Mt. Everest and found a guy at the summit on the stairclimber...
REAL College Hoops...
I went to my first UPS Basketball game of the season last night...they were playing at Northwest University. (This sounds like a preseason walk-through---but NWU was an NAIA Final Four team last year, which means they a) have a lot of good players, b) are all on scholarship...a SERIOUS test for the D-III, non-scholarship Logs.)
To my pleasant surprise, the Loggers quite literally ran NWU out of their own gym. I saw that they had preset subs, so I paid attention--before the 16-minute media timeout (do they have those in D-III?) the Loggers had subbed FOURTEEN TIMES, keeping fresh legs on the floor throughout. Their First Team All-American, Jason Foster, had two of the biggest dunks I've ever seen at the small-college level, but the story was clearly Bobby Krauel.
Krauel, a senior, Arizona-native, went for 24 points and at one point in the first half went layin-steal-layin-steal-layin to give the Logs the margin that NWU would never really penetrate. I love this kid--despite being only 6'4", he is a major force inside. ("Major Force"--salute!) Backing in players who have 4 and 5 inches on him, Krauel used both hands to complete a barrage of inside moves that NWU seemed to have no answer for. He plays hard. He plays smart. He is an absolute inspiration to his team.
In short, he is the D-III Jon Brockman. I hope to God this guy is a Phi Delt...
What has Phil Jackson done?
Phil Jackson really set off a storm of ridiculousness...now Captain Tact, Nick Saban has major problems on his hands. ("Major Problems"--salute!) Yesterday he compared Alabama's loss to Louisiana-Monroe to Pearl Harbor and 9-11...
The 9-11 thing got me thinking though...
Does this mean that Alabama fans are going to start putting "IMPEACH SABAN" stickers on their car? It would make sense--I mean, he had knowledge of Louisiana-Monroe prior to the event that he didn't share with the public, and while coaches can't be impeached, neither can presidents for people just not liking them...
Apple Cup Preview:
Item: Edge.
Home Field: Washington (unless douche bags sell their tickets to Cougar fans, which is like renting a room to a termite farmer...which coincidentally is the most-common profession of WSU graduates...)
UW Offense vs. WSU Defense: Washington Offense
WSU Offense vs. UW Defense: WSU Offense (I'm not saying either offense is good...but both these teams have an opportunity to have record-breakingly poor seasons at defense. It has become cliched to say that they are as porous as a siv...so I won't...I'll say they are as porous as a siv with a gigantic hole in it.)
Coaching: Even (Remember that chess match between Bobby Fischer and Boris Spassky? You know--the greatest example of tactics and skill in the history of modern competition? Well...this is just like that, except not at all. Arguably the two most-underqualified coaches in NCAA Division I Football, squaring off. If UW wins, Doba loses his job. If WSU wins, Willingham keeps his job---which is so violent an act against logic that I won't waste your time articulating the point.
Thanksgiving...
So I don't write Top Ten Lists anymore...why? Because they're really just brainstorming exercises and don't test me as a writer. (Oddly enough--they were always what inspired the best response from my readers...maybe that is an indication as to what my true skill set is...)
Anyway...this year I'm thankful for the Arnolds...who put up with my crap every day--so here, for you, are:
The Top Ten Overrated Things about Thanksgiving
10. Gravy: Okay--Thanksgiving food is a little dry, but have you seen what goes into this diarrhea-looking mixture? It is basically fat and cornstarch. My suggestion? Ketchup. I've used it at every Thanksgiving of my life and it has always treated me well---I mean really---what ISN'T good with ketchup on it? I rest my case.
9. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade: Do you watch it? Please email me if you do...I don't ever want to associate with someone who thinks that waiting two hours to see a gigantic Underdog held up by homeless people is time well spent. (You know...when you put it like that...)
8. Friday Shopping: The busiest shopping day of the year, and yet people still insist on perpetuating this "tradition". Next time someone asks you to join them, simply respond, "If I'm going to stand in line and throw down a bunch of money just to give something to someone else, I'm going to a brothel."
7. Triptophan: It supposedly makes you sleepy. You know what makes me sleepy? Hearing people talk about triptophan.*
6. Inviting Outsiders: Don't get me wrong--I think that including those who don't have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving is a generous notion---but do you really want to do that? I mean--if you could assemble 20 people for your friend or coworker to meet, how many different groups would you go through before deciding on your "extended family on a holiday"? 20? 30? I don't think there is a group of people I'd be more frightened to show off than my relatives after three glasses of wine. Speaking of which...
5. Riesling: I have a bit of wine knowledge. Trust me: Riesling is NOT a good pair with turkey? Yes, it has sweet notes that match the more basic turkey, and offers a wine option to non-wine drinkers...but there is a general rule with wine-pairing that you all should follow: DON'T DRINK RIESLING. IT TASTES LIKE SH*T.
4. Wishing people a safe holiday: Why is this so chique? I mean--is there a flood of people deciding to go base-jumping on Thanksgiving Day that I don't know about? Happy Thanksgiving will be FINE, thank you.
3. Turkey Bowl: Look--I love playing pickup football, it is probably the funnest glory-days activity I can think of. But ask ANYONE the day AFTER playing how they feel about it...they'll fake it, but they know full-well that they need 364 days to recover from the prior days' debacle.
2. The Meal: It is a big meal, big f-ing deal. "I love Thanksgiving--there is so much to eat!" It is like we're living in Ethiopia! Go to the Claim Jumper--you can gorge yourself 365 days a year for only $14.95.
1. Watching Football: Why is a holiday so irrevocably tied to football when every Saturday and Sunday in the fall has better than 10x as much football on television as Thanksgiving Day? This will haunt me until my death.
HAVE A SAFE THANKSGIVING, A**H***S!
mcflyblogs@gmail.com
*= Thank you Todd Barry.
Monday, November 19, 2007
11.20.07
Teaser
I've been absolutely swamped the past couple of days and haven't had much time to write. I promise for an in-depth performance tomorrow, with not only a preview of The Battle to Save Your Coach's Job between Washington and Washington State, but also the first top ten list since moving to the new format: The Top Ten Overrated Things About Thanksgiving.
Love...
I'm in love with the Performance^24 girl. I'm not talking about a crush--or even a major crush ("Major Crush"--salute!)--but full-blown-love. We speak every day in the gym---well---she doesn't actually respond because she's a poster--but I feel like we have our special moment every day.
I'm a bit worried that she gets around though...she seems to be showing off her perfectly adorable body at every 24 Hour Fitness in America...but I know that I'm her one true love.
See you tomorrow, Performance^24 Girl.
Spokane…quite a place…
I was in Spokane on what could only be described as a “Frequent-Flyer’s Special”, landing there Monday at about 11:15 and checking back in for a flight at about 1:00.
My lunch meeting was fine, but with all due respect to at least two of my most-loyal readers, this place is completely ridiculous.
Not only is it the only place backwards enough to root for Gonzaga…it also was the scene for two of the most ridiculous conversations I’ve ever heard (and one of which I was a part of…)
Number One…
Scene: Me in a restaurant—the waitress with the knowledge that my two lunch companions will not be there for another 30 minutes.
Her: Would you like anything to drink in the meantime?
Me: A Diet Pepsi? Or Diet Coke?
Her: Sure…we have RC Cola, is that okay?
Me: You have RC Cola? Is it the only case left? And are you at a truck-stop in central Arkansas? And will it cost more because it is actually throwback RC Cola purchased from American Eagle? (Is what I should have said…what I actually said was, “Um…I guess?)
As a general rule ("General Rule"--salute!) you probably want to avoid any cola product--wait--any food product that hasn't been seen in 20 years. Within hours, you may suffer the same fate as Kate, Tom, George, and Martha by dying of dysentery.
Number Two…
Scene: Me walking through security in Spokane. Inaudible conversation between TSA representatives…becomes audible when a short, grey-haired representative says:
Her: Yeah, I will take my break—I’ve got to take a s*** anyway.
(Sound of me vomiting all over the conveyor belt.)
Love at First Sight...
To no surprise, returning from the City that Never Awakens, to Seattle, I was greeted with a much more enjoyable experience.
First off of the plane, I was almost literally run over by University of Washington freshman forward Matthew Bryan-Amaning. This caused a chuckle and some razzing from fellow freshman Justin Holiday and a smile and laugh from the world's most-likable coach, Lorenzo Romar.
I walk toward the exit as planned...take about eight steps and realize, "HEY--if they're going that way, and you know that the team is leaving for New York today, why aren't you following them in the hope of meeting Jon Brockman?"
So I turn around and head down the D-Concourse.
First I pass Coach Romar.
McFly: "Hey Coach--go get 'em this week!"
Romar: (Eye-contact, a genuine smile) "That's the idea!"
McFly: "Do the guys have two wins in them??"
Romar: "We're feeling good."
McFly: "Keep up the good work."
My reaction: If Romar ever retires and I'm in a position to hire an Executive VP of a company, I'm hiring him. The perfect manager--intense, focused, but extraordinarily likable and genuine. An absolute class act.
So I continue my walk, on a search for my 21-year-old hero.
Next I walk by the bookstore and am shocked to find a pack of Huskies...
Unfortunately, they were basketball players and not live, wild animals--and they were buying candy and not books...but I had an engaging enough 5-second exchange with Tim Morris to realize that manners and likability run in the family (he's Romar's nephew) and (on-looker) Quincy Pondexter is no only lost in a 2-3 Trap, but also in simple conversation.
But my hunt continues...a full lap around the concourse renders no signs of the 6'7" Super Hero...but to no avail.
Clearly he had security detail to keep his millions of adoring fans from bothering him. I guess I understand...
So I head back to my initial destination, only to see Romar coming BACK in my direction. So I duck into a smoothie bar to pretend like I've been searching for a meal. He passes...I sneak to baggage claim.
How good a run-in was it?
I texted my brother to tell him, and he responded, "I met Warren Buffett today. But you win."
Ideas on what is overrated about Thanksgiving?? mcflyblogs@gmail.com
I've been absolutely swamped the past couple of days and haven't had much time to write. I promise for an in-depth performance tomorrow, with not only a preview of The Battle to Save Your Coach's Job between Washington and Washington State, but also the first top ten list since moving to the new format: The Top Ten Overrated Things About Thanksgiving.
Love...
I'm in love with the Performance^24 girl. I'm not talking about a crush--or even a major crush ("Major Crush"--salute!)--but full-blown-love. We speak every day in the gym---well---she doesn't actually respond because she's a poster--but I feel like we have our special moment every day.
I'm a bit worried that she gets around though...she seems to be showing off her perfectly adorable body at every 24 Hour Fitness in America...but I know that I'm her one true love.
See you tomorrow, Performance^24 Girl.
Spokane…quite a place…
I was in Spokane on what could only be described as a “Frequent-Flyer’s Special”, landing there Monday at about 11:15 and checking back in for a flight at about 1:00.
My lunch meeting was fine, but with all due respect to at least two of my most-loyal readers, this place is completely ridiculous.
Not only is it the only place backwards enough to root for Gonzaga…it also was the scene for two of the most ridiculous conversations I’ve ever heard (and one of which I was a part of…)
Number One…
Scene: Me in a restaurant—the waitress with the knowledge that my two lunch companions will not be there for another 30 minutes.
Her: Would you like anything to drink in the meantime?
Me: A Diet Pepsi? Or Diet Coke?
Her: Sure…we have RC Cola, is that okay?
Me: You have RC Cola? Is it the only case left? And are you at a truck-stop in central Arkansas? And will it cost more because it is actually throwback RC Cola purchased from American Eagle? (Is what I should have said…what I actually said was, “Um…I guess?)
As a general rule ("General Rule"--salute!) you probably want to avoid any cola product--wait--any food product that hasn't been seen in 20 years. Within hours, you may suffer the same fate as Kate, Tom, George, and Martha by dying of dysentery.
Number Two…
Scene: Me walking through security in Spokane. Inaudible conversation between TSA representatives…becomes audible when a short, grey-haired representative says:
Her: Yeah, I will take my break—I’ve got to take a s*** anyway.
(Sound of me vomiting all over the conveyor belt.)
Love at First Sight...
To no surprise, returning from the City that Never Awakens, to Seattle, I was greeted with a much more enjoyable experience.
First off of the plane, I was almost literally run over by University of Washington freshman forward Matthew Bryan-Amaning. This caused a chuckle and some razzing from fellow freshman Justin Holiday and a smile and laugh from the world's most-likable coach, Lorenzo Romar.
I walk toward the exit as planned...take about eight steps and realize, "HEY--if they're going that way, and you know that the team is leaving for New York today, why aren't you following them in the hope of meeting Jon Brockman?"
So I turn around and head down the D-Concourse.
First I pass Coach Romar.
McFly: "Hey Coach--go get 'em this week!"
Romar: (Eye-contact, a genuine smile) "That's the idea!"
McFly: "Do the guys have two wins in them??"
Romar: "We're feeling good."
McFly: "Keep up the good work."
My reaction: If Romar ever retires and I'm in a position to hire an Executive VP of a company, I'm hiring him. The perfect manager--intense, focused, but extraordinarily likable and genuine. An absolute class act.
So I continue my walk, on a search for my 21-year-old hero.
Next I walk by the bookstore and am shocked to find a pack of Huskies...
Unfortunately, they were basketball players and not live, wild animals--and they were buying candy and not books...but I had an engaging enough 5-second exchange with Tim Morris to realize that manners and likability run in the family (he's Romar's nephew) and (on-looker) Quincy Pondexter is no only lost in a 2-3 Trap, but also in simple conversation.
But my hunt continues...a full lap around the concourse renders no signs of the 6'7" Super Hero...but to no avail.
Clearly he had security detail to keep his millions of adoring fans from bothering him. I guess I understand...
So I head back to my initial destination, only to see Romar coming BACK in my direction. So I duck into a smoothie bar to pretend like I've been searching for a meal. He passes...I sneak to baggage claim.
How good a run-in was it?
I texted my brother to tell him, and he responded, "I met Warren Buffett today. But you win."
Ideas on what is overrated about Thanksgiving?? mcflyblogs@gmail.com
11.19.07
Top Ten
Another ridiculous weekend of college football. Two quarterbacks get hurt, both teams absolutely buckle in the wake of the injuries (Oregon and Oklahoma respectively.)
So now I’m pretty much certain that there is no way that both the top teams heading into Championship Weekend can come out unscathed—so the only real reason that I’m writing this list is because I have absolutely nothing else to write about…
Here we go.
1. Kansas: Yes, they’re number one. They’re the only major conference unbeaten and with everyone looking suspect, you have to go with the only team that hasn’t lost. (I predict they beat Mizzou this weekend by the way.)
2. LSU: Best team in the best conference. You could hear the collective sigh of relief from the state of Louisiana when Tennessee came back and beat Vanderbilt this weekend, keeping Georgia (who is playing as well as anyone) out of the SEC Title Game for the time being.
3. Missouri: Like Kansas, they pretty much control their own destiny. Beat Kansas at home, win the Big 12 Title Game, and you’re either in the National Championship Game, or can legitimately sue the NCAA for keeping you out of it.
4. West Virginia: How can a team go an entire season without a single impressive win and be ranking #3 in the BCS?? Simple—every other team pooped the bed…that’s how.
5. Georgia: Probably playing the best football right now. They probably need a Tennessee loss and a subsequent win over LSU in the SEC Championship game to make it…but they’re BCS-bound and will spank whatever unsuspecting team falls in their path.
6. Arizona State: Remember them? They’re two wins and two upsets away from playing for the National Title.
7. Ohio State: So you beat Michigan—HOORAH. You still suck.
8. USC: They go TO Arizona State and with a blowout win could jump into the mix. It is far-fetched, but they’re still the most-talented team in the country—so don’t be surprised if their New Year’s Day shalacking of Ohio State puts them in the top 3 to end the season—even with two losses.
9. Hawaii: Again—undefeated. They have their biggest test against Boise State this week in preparation for their 100-point win over Washington—but I think that if they go undefeated, the BCS committee needs to reward them with the opportunity to go to a BCS game and have Georgia run for 800 yards on them.
10. Jon Brockman: There isn’t ten good teams in college football—in fact I’m not sure that there are more than six…so I thought I’d go ahead and give votes to the best collegiate athlete in America.
This is why you don’t eat Seafood…
Remember six months ago when I was chomping on a Juigy Fruit and ripped of my left front tooth?
Yeah…a Swedish Fish got the best of me yesterday and tore off the right one.
No—I don’t have osteoporosis—they’re partially fake—but I have meetings with three new potential clients this week and my teeth look like a lawn-mower blade. Beware the fish…
Not my joke…but…
The new Men’s Health released its list of gym faux paus—which I thought was pretty amusing. My personal favorite:
Lose the dew-rag: Sorry guys—the 80s are over—you can no longer get away with wearing a dew-rag unless you’re the bassist for an iconic band (you know—like Steven Van Zandt) or an actor that plays the concilliare for a mafia family (you know—like Steven Van Zandt.)
Another ridiculous weekend of college football. Two quarterbacks get hurt, both teams absolutely buckle in the wake of the injuries (Oregon and Oklahoma respectively.)
So now I’m pretty much certain that there is no way that both the top teams heading into Championship Weekend can come out unscathed—so the only real reason that I’m writing this list is because I have absolutely nothing else to write about…
Here we go.
1. Kansas: Yes, they’re number one. They’re the only major conference unbeaten and with everyone looking suspect, you have to go with the only team that hasn’t lost. (I predict they beat Mizzou this weekend by the way.)
2. LSU: Best team in the best conference. You could hear the collective sigh of relief from the state of Louisiana when Tennessee came back and beat Vanderbilt this weekend, keeping Georgia (who is playing as well as anyone) out of the SEC Title Game for the time being.
3. Missouri: Like Kansas, they pretty much control their own destiny. Beat Kansas at home, win the Big 12 Title Game, and you’re either in the National Championship Game, or can legitimately sue the NCAA for keeping you out of it.
4. West Virginia: How can a team go an entire season without a single impressive win and be ranking #3 in the BCS?? Simple—every other team pooped the bed…that’s how.
5. Georgia: Probably playing the best football right now. They probably need a Tennessee loss and a subsequent win over LSU in the SEC Championship game to make it…but they’re BCS-bound and will spank whatever unsuspecting team falls in their path.
6. Arizona State: Remember them? They’re two wins and two upsets away from playing for the National Title.
7. Ohio State: So you beat Michigan—HOORAH. You still suck.
8. USC: They go TO Arizona State and with a blowout win could jump into the mix. It is far-fetched, but they’re still the most-talented team in the country—so don’t be surprised if their New Year’s Day shalacking of Ohio State puts them in the top 3 to end the season—even with two losses.
9. Hawaii: Again—undefeated. They have their biggest test against Boise State this week in preparation for their 100-point win over Washington—but I think that if they go undefeated, the BCS committee needs to reward them with the opportunity to go to a BCS game and have Georgia run for 800 yards on them.
10. Jon Brockman: There isn’t ten good teams in college football—in fact I’m not sure that there are more than six…so I thought I’d go ahead and give votes to the best collegiate athlete in America.
This is why you don’t eat Seafood…
Remember six months ago when I was chomping on a Juigy Fruit and ripped of my left front tooth?
Yeah…a Swedish Fish got the best of me yesterday and tore off the right one.
No—I don’t have osteoporosis—they’re partially fake—but I have meetings with three new potential clients this week and my teeth look like a lawn-mower blade. Beware the fish…
Not my joke…but…
The new Men’s Health released its list of gym faux paus—which I thought was pretty amusing. My personal favorite:
Lose the dew-rag: Sorry guys—the 80s are over—you can no longer get away with wearing a dew-rag unless you’re the bassist for an iconic band (you know—like Steven Van Zandt) or an actor that plays the concilliare for a mafia family (you know—like Steven Van Zandt.)
Thursday, November 15, 2007
11.16.07
Really takes the fun out of it...
But apparently even Father Christmas has to be PC.
Anything Going On?
So which gargantuan sports story do you want me to comment on first? I'll go rapid-fire, because everything has pretty much already been said about all three:
1. Barry. I was frankly shocked to find out that Barry Bonds had been indicted for perjury. I figured he'd beat the wrap, but lo and behold--they'd been on track to charging him the entire time.
Here's the frightening part if you're Barry Lamar Bonds: 9/10 indictments turn into plea-bargains. Of the ten percent that aren't plea-bargained and go to trial, the state wins better than 95% of the cases. So--in other words--99.5% of people who are indicted are either found guilty or plea as such.
I frankly think that Barry is a scapegoat here for America's ridiculous cause. EVERYONE was doing it--and I'm not saying that that is right, I'm just saying that there seems to be increased attention to Barry just because a) he owns a bunch of records and b) he is a complete prick. But it is to the point that I almost feel sorry for the guy.
It is almost identical to the scenario that Bill Clinton faced in the sense that personal and professional reasons made it impossible for them to tell the truth. Neither are evil people--just people with a tremendous amount of power who made some bad decisions---yet Bonds will be the one to pay for it because for some idiotic reason, America has decided that steroid use is the root of all evil.
Worst of all of this is that it is probably unlikely that Barry Bonds will ever reach the Hall of Fame. So let me get this straight---Barry Bonds took medicine and therefore can't go to the Hall. Ty Cobb killed at least one person and he is revered in the Hall.
That makes sense.
2. A-Rod. Relative to the market, 10/$275M is probably fair for Alex Rodriguez...that is what is so alarming about this contract.
My question is this--it became clear this summer that Alex, his wife, and his mistress have a Dirty, Sexy Money-esque agreement. If Alex's wife got to go to the contract negotiation with the Steinbrenners, does that mean that the mistress gets to go to the press conference? Can you imagine the questions:
"Yes, Alex, now that you're back in New York, does this mean that your mistress will keep her job stripping at Deano's?"
"A question for Mz. Hansen--now that Alex has the largest contract in the history of sports, will it finally be time to consummate your relationship?"
"Alex--do you finish off your mistress as poorly as you do the baseball season?"
"A-Rod---does this mean that you're going to be spending more time at third base? Pun intended."
3. Oregon. Try as they might, trying to convince the world that the Dennis Dixon injury in the first quarter of last night's massacre in Tucson wasn't the reason for the loss is like trying to convince the world that Tom Cruise is a heterosexual---it is just a waste of time.
OF COURSE losing the would-be-Heisman winner is going to kill your team's momentum---YOUR WHOLE OFFENSE GOES THROUGH HIM! (Not to mention the fact that your backup as the name "LEAF" on the back of his jersey...)
I can't believe that I feel bad for the athletic program that represents everything that is wrong in college sports, but I do---in fact I feel bad for all of the top teams that have buckled this year. And more so I feel bad for the fans who are going to have to watch Missouri and Arizona State play in the National Championship game!!
Sidebar--this won't happen because people are stupid, but could there be a better testimonial to Dennis Dixon's deservedness for the Heisman Trophy than his team completely buckling without him? He won't win--in fact he's probably nearing the "No Longer Invited" list--but he is absolutely the player in college football who determines more games than any other.
Mercury...
If there was any doubt as to whether Mercury Morris' mind had actually been affected more by excessive cocaine use than Mickey Rivers', I'm pretty sure that Wednesday's comments on the Patriots cleared that up.
Just phenomenal.
Sorry so short...send me some Thanksgiving questions for next week: mcflyblogs@gmail.com
But apparently even Father Christmas has to be PC.
Anything Going On?
So which gargantuan sports story do you want me to comment on first? I'll go rapid-fire, because everything has pretty much already been said about all three:
1. Barry. I was frankly shocked to find out that Barry Bonds had been indicted for perjury. I figured he'd beat the wrap, but lo and behold--they'd been on track to charging him the entire time.
Here's the frightening part if you're Barry Lamar Bonds: 9/10 indictments turn into plea-bargains. Of the ten percent that aren't plea-bargained and go to trial, the state wins better than 95% of the cases. So--in other words--99.5% of people who are indicted are either found guilty or plea as such.
I frankly think that Barry is a scapegoat here for America's ridiculous cause. EVERYONE was doing it--and I'm not saying that that is right, I'm just saying that there seems to be increased attention to Barry just because a) he owns a bunch of records and b) he is a complete prick. But it is to the point that I almost feel sorry for the guy.
It is almost identical to the scenario that Bill Clinton faced in the sense that personal and professional reasons made it impossible for them to tell the truth. Neither are evil people--just people with a tremendous amount of power who made some bad decisions---yet Bonds will be the one to pay for it because for some idiotic reason, America has decided that steroid use is the root of all evil.
Worst of all of this is that it is probably unlikely that Barry Bonds will ever reach the Hall of Fame. So let me get this straight---Barry Bonds took medicine and therefore can't go to the Hall. Ty Cobb killed at least one person and he is revered in the Hall.
That makes sense.
2. A-Rod. Relative to the market, 10/$275M is probably fair for Alex Rodriguez...that is what is so alarming about this contract.
My question is this--it became clear this summer that Alex, his wife, and his mistress have a Dirty, Sexy Money-esque agreement. If Alex's wife got to go to the contract negotiation with the Steinbrenners, does that mean that the mistress gets to go to the press conference? Can you imagine the questions:
"Yes, Alex, now that you're back in New York, does this mean that your mistress will keep her job stripping at Deano's?"
"A question for Mz. Hansen--now that Alex has the largest contract in the history of sports, will it finally be time to consummate your relationship?"
"Alex--do you finish off your mistress as poorly as you do the baseball season?"
"A-Rod---does this mean that you're going to be spending more time at third base? Pun intended."
3. Oregon. Try as they might, trying to convince the world that the Dennis Dixon injury in the first quarter of last night's massacre in Tucson wasn't the reason for the loss is like trying to convince the world that Tom Cruise is a heterosexual---it is just a waste of time.
OF COURSE losing the would-be-Heisman winner is going to kill your team's momentum---YOUR WHOLE OFFENSE GOES THROUGH HIM! (Not to mention the fact that your backup as the name "LEAF" on the back of his jersey...)
I can't believe that I feel bad for the athletic program that represents everything that is wrong in college sports, but I do---in fact I feel bad for all of the top teams that have buckled this year. And more so I feel bad for the fans who are going to have to watch Missouri and Arizona State play in the National Championship game!!
Sidebar--this won't happen because people are stupid, but could there be a better testimonial to Dennis Dixon's deservedness for the Heisman Trophy than his team completely buckling without him? He won't win--in fact he's probably nearing the "No Longer Invited" list--but he is absolutely the player in college football who determines more games than any other.
Mercury...
If there was any doubt as to whether Mercury Morris' mind had actually been affected more by excessive cocaine use than Mickey Rivers', I'm pretty sure that Wednesday's comments on the Patriots cleared that up.
Just phenomenal.
Sorry so short...send me some Thanksgiving questions for next week: mcflyblogs@gmail.com
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
11.15.07
Like a Comfort Inn Commercial...
People are always saying, "McFly--you travel a lot. Where do you travel to?"
Well--here are the airports I've been to this year in alphabetical order. (Actually fewer than I expected...)
Burbank, CA
Chicago, IL-Midway
Chicago, IL-O'Hare
Dallas, TX
Dayton, OH
Houston, TX
Las Vegas, NV
Long Beach, CA
Los Angeles, CA
Minneapolis, MN
Oakland, CA
Omaha, NE
Ontario, CA
Palm Springs, CA
Phoenix, AZ
Pittsburgh, PA
Portland, OR
Sacramento, CA
Salt Lake City, UT
San Antonio, TX
San Diego, CA
San Francisco, CA
San Jose, CA
Santa Ana, CA
Seattle, WA
Spokane, WA
St. Louis, MO
Washington DC--Dulles
Washington DC--Reagan
27 thus far this year...I was expecting somewhere in the 40s. I'm shocked that Atlanta and none of the New York airports are on that list...
Great Link:
Keep this one handy.
I was shocked to hear that Phil Jackson called his team's performance a "Brokeback Mountain performance" because there was so much "penetrating and kickouts". (You can read the whole article here.)
This surprised me for two reasons:
1. Phil Jackson has been more careful about his words than anyone in sports but Shane Battier. He genuinely cares and thinks about what he says...a comment like this is completely out of the ordinary for him.
2. It started an unbelievable breakout in outrageously offensive analogies from coaches and athletes around sports. Shockingly, I compiled a list:
"We really played a Michael J. Fox game out there---started great and ended feeble and pathetic."
-Charlie Weis, Notre Dame
"I was tipping my pitches today---really pulled a Basic Instinct just opening up and showing them what I was going to give them."
-Gil Meche, Kansas City Royals
"We call our Cover 2 our "Jesse Jackson scheme" because we only want the black people moving forward."
-Pete Carroll, USC
"I'm looking for a closer that can really Kent State a team---you know--come in when they're not expecting it and kill them just because they can."
-Lou Piniella, Chicago Cubs
"I hate inter-squad games---I feel like Tom D. just rooting for both sides."
-John Calipari, Memphis
"I really gave him a Luganis hit--you know, one that is so big that it spreads HIV-infected blood all over a pool."
-Roy Williams, Dallas Cowboys
Wow...I've really finished on some high points lately...
mcflyblogs@gmail.com
People are always saying, "McFly--you travel a lot. Where do you travel to?"
Well--here are the airports I've been to this year in alphabetical order. (Actually fewer than I expected...)
Burbank, CA
Chicago, IL-Midway
Chicago, IL-O'Hare
Dallas, TX
Dayton, OH
Houston, TX
Las Vegas, NV
Long Beach, CA
Los Angeles, CA
Minneapolis, MN
Oakland, CA
Omaha, NE
Ontario, CA
Palm Springs, CA
Phoenix, AZ
Pittsburgh, PA
Portland, OR
Sacramento, CA
Salt Lake City, UT
San Antonio, TX
San Diego, CA
San Francisco, CA
San Jose, CA
Santa Ana, CA
Seattle, WA
Spokane, WA
St. Louis, MO
Washington DC--Dulles
Washington DC--Reagan
27 thus far this year...I was expecting somewhere in the 40s. I'm shocked that Atlanta and none of the New York airports are on that list...
Great Link:
Keep this one handy.
Revised Husky Thoughts:
After watching Jon Brockman and the undefeated University of Washington Huskies basketball team beat Utah last night on national television, my thoughts on the team have changed...here they are quickly:
-Jon Brockman is an All-American. He isn't going to go for 31 and 18 every night--because he's going to face doubles the rest of the year. But he's still going to dominate the weak side glass, and average somewhere in the area of 19 and 11--which if Washington makes the NCAA Tournament--SHOULD be enough to be an All-American. My brother said last night that he likes watching Brockman play more than he liked watching Michael Jordan...now he's not saying Brockman is anywhere in the realm of Jordan's ability, but I agree--he's entertaining as hell. I mean--YES--three-quarters of that is the "big white oaf" factor--but I absolutely love watching the guy play.
-Justin Dentmon is NOT the player I'm most-worried about. He played a full game last night doing what he does best--slashing, dishing, and getting to the line---which is something he didn't do for an entire game all season last year. Instead--the player I'm most-worried about is Quincy Pondexter. Clearly he's a phenomenal talent, but even a year into the program, he still looks completely lost on both ends of the court. He'll go stretches where he's so irrelevant that Coach Romar has to bench him and the team suffers (see: the stretch in the middle of the second half where Utah absolutely dominated UW on the perimeter.) He needs to get it together--if not offensively, at least on the defensive side.
-The key to the season is Venoy Overton. Last year, Husky fans were thrilled with Adrian Oliver because he "didn't make mistakes". Well--Overton doesn't make mistakes either--but he gives the added bonus of MAKING PLAYS while he isn't making mistakes. This guy has Aaron Brooks-like talent--except he's more athletic and a better passer. If he can give 30 minutes a game with something like 10 pts., 7 assists, two steals and a 75+% free throw percentage, Washington can go FAR.
I still think that 5th in the conference is a fair place for them--but this team has the kind of energy (and on the defensive end for once!) that they could put together a run like the 2005 team.
Of course I thought the same thing last year before they played a road game...
DISCLAIMER:
If you know McFly personally and don't want to lose all respect for him, please do not read the next section. His friend Erik convinced him to write it and he's having serious doubts about doing it...
I was shocked to hear that Phil Jackson called his team's performance a "Brokeback Mountain performance" because there was so much "penetrating and kickouts". (You can read the whole article here.)
This surprised me for two reasons:
1. Phil Jackson has been more careful about his words than anyone in sports but Shane Battier. He genuinely cares and thinks about what he says...a comment like this is completely out of the ordinary for him.
2. It started an unbelievable breakout in outrageously offensive analogies from coaches and athletes around sports. Shockingly, I compiled a list:
"We really played a Michael J. Fox game out there---started great and ended feeble and pathetic."
-Charlie Weis, Notre Dame
"I was tipping my pitches today---really pulled a Basic Instinct just opening up and showing them what I was going to give them."
-Gil Meche, Kansas City Royals
"We call our Cover 2 our "Jesse Jackson scheme" because we only want the black people moving forward."
-Pete Carroll, USC
"I'm looking for a closer that can really Kent State a team---you know--come in when they're not expecting it and kill them just because they can."
-Lou Piniella, Chicago Cubs
"I hate inter-squad games---I feel like Tom D. just rooting for both sides."
-John Calipari, Memphis
"I really gave him a Luganis hit--you know, one that is so big that it spreads HIV-infected blood all over a pool."
-Roy Williams, Dallas Cowboys
Wow...I've really finished on some high points lately...
mcflyblogs@gmail.com
11.14.07
A Couple of Points...
I have been completely swamped with this conference and haven't had the time to sit down and write something meaningful for today (hopefully better tomorrow) so I offer you a couple of quick observations:
1. If you're listening to a speaker, and he uses the following three things in his talk: Arsenio-esque "WOO WOO WOO" fist pumps, Tim "The Toolman" Taylor grunts, and references to the "Pop quiz, hot-shot" scene from Speed, he is either a) living in 1994, or b) a very very bad speaker.
2. San Antonio is one of the more fun towns in the country to visit. The Riverwalk and surrounding areas offer a veritable plethora of food and drink options that you really can't find anywhere else...however--tourists tend to lack creativity. These are the places I received calls/texts to come meet people at this week:
The Hard Rock Cafe
Joe's Crab Shack
Coyote Ugly
Pat O'Briens
Dick's Last Resort
In other words---they wanted me to meet them in every major city in America.
3. In a press-conference yesterday, Charlie Weis admitted that a major reason for Notre Dame's struggles this season have come from the fact that Weis has allowed the majority of the coaching-duties this season to be handled by his gunt.
4. The Celtics are very good and the Sonics are very bad.
And in more relevant and interesting news, I'm considering having cereal for breakfast.
PUT IT DOWN! mcflyblogs@gmail.com
I have been completely swamped with this conference and haven't had the time to sit down and write something meaningful for today (hopefully better tomorrow) so I offer you a couple of quick observations:
1. If you're listening to a speaker, and he uses the following three things in his talk: Arsenio-esque "WOO WOO WOO" fist pumps, Tim "The Toolman" Taylor grunts, and references to the "Pop quiz, hot-shot" scene from Speed, he is either a) living in 1994, or b) a very very bad speaker.
2. San Antonio is one of the more fun towns in the country to visit. The Riverwalk and surrounding areas offer a veritable plethora of food and drink options that you really can't find anywhere else...however--tourists tend to lack creativity. These are the places I received calls/texts to come meet people at this week:
The Hard Rock Cafe
Joe's Crab Shack
Coyote Ugly
Pat O'Briens
Dick's Last Resort
In other words---they wanted me to meet them in every major city in America.
3. In a press-conference yesterday, Charlie Weis admitted that a major reason for Notre Dame's struggles this season have come from the fact that Weis has allowed the majority of the coaching-duties this season to be handled by his gunt.
4. The Celtics are very good and the Sonics are very bad.
And in more relevant and interesting news, I'm considering having cereal for breakfast.
PUT IT DOWN! mcflyblogs@gmail.com
Sunday, November 11, 2007
11.13.07
Hmm...
Marko actually sent in a decent link--which proves that even a broken sundial is right once a day...
Tis the Season…
I hate to remind everyone, but we’re sitting at 42 (or somewhere near there…I don’t know what day I’m hitting “Publish” on this one…) shopping days until Christmas. (And by that previous parenthetic statement, I've left the impication that I can't change this once I've written it...which is entirely untrue...but I digest...)
And considering that over 50% of gift-purchases last year were done online, it is a sign that we need to start earlier and earlier in our shopping to ensure that the crappy gifts that we buy get there on time.
But maybe “crappy” is a little rough. It isn’t as though we don’t WANT to buy nice, expensive gifts for people—it is just that whatever we find is too expensive.
So I said to myself—HEY—why not go to the source of the greatest gifts in the world, look at what is hot and awesome this year and suggest some similar alternatives that may help us through the season.
What is that source you ask?
What else?
Skymall.
So off we go, in no particular order or classification…
Item: E-Z Chord
What is it? A device that can be placed on the strings of a guitar that allows you to learn how to “play” every chord in an hour. Just press one of the five buttons and BANG—you’ve got an F-sharp.
Cost: $49.99
The Lure? Uh…in 60 minutes you can be called onto the stage by the Stones to fill in (that’s assuming you carry this ridiculous apparatus wherever you go.)
What do you get the person who wants to play the guitar without learning? Oh—I don’t know. Maybe buy them a 12-pack of O’Douls so the person receiving the gift can go out and get in a fake-fight.
Item: TRACKing Key
What is it? A low-tech, GPS-based lojack that a parent can put on their child’s car so they know where they are at all times.
Cost: $249.99
The Lure: Wipe out all of the creativity and risk of being a parent.
What do you get for the parent with trust issues? A leash with a 5 mile chain.
Item: THUNDERBOLT Storm Detector
What is it? A handheld device that can track lightning strikes within 125 miles and count the number of strikes digitally.
Cost: $429.99
The Lure: Always having more information than your coworkers when they start a conversation, “How ‘bout that storm last night?”
What do you get for someone who needs to know the exact number of times lightning strikes a particular area? A book. Any book. Any book will give this person something more interesting to talk about that the number of lightning strikes that have hit in the past 24 hours.
Item: FATHead
What is it? A nearly-life-sized sticker of your favorite athlete to post on the wall of your home.
Cost: $79.95-99.95
The Lure: The opportunity to tell your friends that you care about your particular team or player more than they do without wearing a jersey to work (though you probably will anyway.)
What do you get for the person who thinks it is socially acceptable to have a 5’ tall sticker of Randy Johnson in your living room? A divorce lawyer. If he thinks this is going to fly, he’s well on his way to needing one…
Item: Regal Lion Sentinels of Grisham Manor Sculptures
What is it? Two stone 3’x 2.5’ x 2’ lions for your entryway.
Cost: $350.00 for the pair.
The Lure: The neighbor has a welcome mat…you have two giant stone lions.
What do you get for the person who thinks that stone lions will make their place look manly? Sigma Nu letters. (Haha…very few of you get that, but I think it is HILARIOUS.)
Item: Smart Ramp
What is it? A rubber-aluminum ramp to put at the base of a car door to allow dogs to walk out of the car more easily.
Cost: $119.00
The Lure: No more worries about your dog falling…um…18 inches.
What do you get the dog who is too decrepit or stupid to get out of a car? Euthanization. (I may get more negative emails about this one than my John Denver joke from a couple of weeks ago…)
Item: Knievel Signature Racing Set
What is it? A set of ramps, motorcycles, tracks, and action figures to let kids live out the adventures of Evel and Robbie Knievel.
Cost: $99.99
The Lure: Flips, speed, adventure at a child’s fingertips.
What do you get the kid who has parents that believe that the Knievel’s are role-models? Maybe a flame-thrower or Dan Akroyd’s Bag ‘O Glass.
Item: Harry Potter Illuminating Wand Collection
What is it? A set of three different magic wands from “Voldemort”, “Harry Potter” and “Hermione Granger” to play sorcerer with your friends and family with.
Cost: $39.50 each.
The Lure: Magic, the mystic arts, and the guidance of a SHOCKINGLY homosexual teacher.
What do you get the child who really wants Harry Potter artifacts and collectibles? Hmm…I don’t know…but some team sports probably wouldn’t hurt at this point, would they??
Item: Interactive Star Wars Lightsaber Game
What is it? A handheld lightsaber with a DVD game that allows you to train and then engage in battles with rebel-forces.
The Cost: $49.95
The Lure: The opportunity to feel just like Luke in “A New Hope” on the Millennium Falcon.
What do you get someone who wants to play with lightsabers and pretend they’re a Jedi? You get them this game—it is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen and if I brought it to San Francisco, it and a case of Miller High Life are probably enough to show off my friend John and my true colors, rendering him unmarriable to his bride-to-be…
Item: ZERO-G: The Weightless Experience
What is it? A chance to fly on a plane that takes you high enough out of the atmosphere that you achieve weightlessness.
The Cost: $3675.00
The Lure: The chance to feel like an astronaut without having to worry about education, training and developing a palate for Tang.
What do you get the person that wants to float through the air? Crack. Lots and lots of crack. It will cost less and leave them flying higher
Item: Orbiter Electronic Listening Device
What is it? A SWAT-esque reverse-megaphone that allows you to pick up distinct sounds from as far away as 300ft.
The Cost: $59.95
The Lure: Superhuman hearing has to be a nice bonus…
What do you get for the person that thinks it is necessary to have the ability to hear his neighbors conversations? A restraining order.
Item: Pocket Rock-It! (How did that possibly get through R and D?)
What is it? A miniature-bodied guitar with a full-sized playing surface that fits in the overhead compartment of airplanes.
The Cost: $499.99
The Lure: What’s the point of going to Vegas if you can’t bring a girl back to your room and jam the easy cords of “Your Body is a Wonderland” to her?
What do you get the guy who needs a guitar that he can take on the road with him? The customized headphone-amp and the High Sierra “Gig Bag” accessories—clearly this guy was BORN TO ROCK!
Item: Lil’ Chill Shot
What is it? A miniature refrigeration unit/dispenser for liquor.
The Cost: $169.99
The Lure: No measuring shots, no wasted freezer space, just cold booze with the turn of a knob.
What do you get the person who wants to have Jager on tap? A ride. Not only that—if you are pouring enough shots for yourself on a weekly-basis that the time/effort of opening bottles and pouring is becoming cumbersome, you may want to attend a meeting or two…
Item: The Learning Tower
What is it? A plastic stool that raises to 18” to allow children to stand on it and take part in tabletop learning activities that were previously only for big kids.
The Cost: $169.99
The Lure: Along with the Pull-up diaper and candy cigarettes, it is a chance for your toddler to feel like he or she is a little older.
What do you get the child who wants to reach things they couldn’t before? Uh…a box? A chair? A pile of books? You could probably buy a miniature Genie Lift for the cost of this plastic piece of s***.
Item: 18” Freddie Mercury Action Figure (with Sound!)
What is it? A miniaturized version of the late head singer of Queen.
The Cost: $44.95
The Lure: A chance to have a miniaturized, mustached, leather-pant-wearing guy sing “I Want to Ride My Bicycle” to you while you’re completing your expense report.
What do you get the man who wants a tiny little Freddie Mercury to display on his desk? A stack of Hustler magazines and a blood-test.
THAT'S THE NEWS, FOLKS, and I am OUTTA HERE!!!! mcflyblogs@gmail.com
Marko actually sent in a decent link--which proves that even a broken sundial is right once a day...
Tis the Season…
I hate to remind everyone, but we’re sitting at 42 (or somewhere near there…I don’t know what day I’m hitting “Publish” on this one…) shopping days until Christmas. (And by that previous parenthetic statement, I've left the impication that I can't change this once I've written it...which is entirely untrue...but I digest...)
And considering that over 50% of gift-purchases last year were done online, it is a sign that we need to start earlier and earlier in our shopping to ensure that the crappy gifts that we buy get there on time.
But maybe “crappy” is a little rough. It isn’t as though we don’t WANT to buy nice, expensive gifts for people—it is just that whatever we find is too expensive.
So I said to myself—HEY—why not go to the source of the greatest gifts in the world, look at what is hot and awesome this year and suggest some similar alternatives that may help us through the season.
What is that source you ask?
What else?
Skymall.
So off we go, in no particular order or classification…
Item: E-Z Chord
What is it? A device that can be placed on the strings of a guitar that allows you to learn how to “play” every chord in an hour. Just press one of the five buttons and BANG—you’ve got an F-sharp.
Cost: $49.99
The Lure? Uh…in 60 minutes you can be called onto the stage by the Stones to fill in (that’s assuming you carry this ridiculous apparatus wherever you go.)
What do you get the person who wants to play the guitar without learning? Oh—I don’t know. Maybe buy them a 12-pack of O’Douls so the person receiving the gift can go out and get in a fake-fight.
Item: TRACKing Key
What is it? A low-tech, GPS-based lojack that a parent can put on their child’s car so they know where they are at all times.
Cost: $249.99
The Lure: Wipe out all of the creativity and risk of being a parent.
What do you get for the parent with trust issues? A leash with a 5 mile chain.
Item: THUNDERBOLT Storm Detector
What is it? A handheld device that can track lightning strikes within 125 miles and count the number of strikes digitally.
Cost: $429.99
The Lure: Always having more information than your coworkers when they start a conversation, “How ‘bout that storm last night?”
What do you get for someone who needs to know the exact number of times lightning strikes a particular area? A book. Any book. Any book will give this person something more interesting to talk about that the number of lightning strikes that have hit in the past 24 hours.
Item: FATHead
What is it? A nearly-life-sized sticker of your favorite athlete to post on the wall of your home.
Cost: $79.95-99.95
The Lure: The opportunity to tell your friends that you care about your particular team or player more than they do without wearing a jersey to work (though you probably will anyway.)
What do you get for the person who thinks it is socially acceptable to have a 5’ tall sticker of Randy Johnson in your living room? A divorce lawyer. If he thinks this is going to fly, he’s well on his way to needing one…
Item: Regal Lion Sentinels of Grisham Manor Sculptures
What is it? Two stone 3’x 2.5’ x 2’ lions for your entryway.
Cost: $350.00 for the pair.
The Lure: The neighbor has a welcome mat…you have two giant stone lions.
What do you get for the person who thinks that stone lions will make their place look manly? Sigma Nu letters. (Haha…very few of you get that, but I think it is HILARIOUS.)
Item: Smart Ramp
What is it? A rubber-aluminum ramp to put at the base of a car door to allow dogs to walk out of the car more easily.
Cost: $119.00
The Lure: No more worries about your dog falling…um…18 inches.
What do you get the dog who is too decrepit or stupid to get out of a car? Euthanization. (I may get more negative emails about this one than my John Denver joke from a couple of weeks ago…)
Item: Knievel Signature Racing Set
What is it? A set of ramps, motorcycles, tracks, and action figures to let kids live out the adventures of Evel and Robbie Knievel.
Cost: $99.99
The Lure: Flips, speed, adventure at a child’s fingertips.
What do you get the kid who has parents that believe that the Knievel’s are role-models? Maybe a flame-thrower or Dan Akroyd’s Bag ‘O Glass.
Item: Harry Potter Illuminating Wand Collection
What is it? A set of three different magic wands from “Voldemort”, “Harry Potter” and “Hermione Granger” to play sorcerer with your friends and family with.
Cost: $39.50 each.
The Lure: Magic, the mystic arts, and the guidance of a SHOCKINGLY homosexual teacher.
What do you get the child who really wants Harry Potter artifacts and collectibles? Hmm…I don’t know…but some team sports probably wouldn’t hurt at this point, would they??
Item: Interactive Star Wars Lightsaber Game
What is it? A handheld lightsaber with a DVD game that allows you to train and then engage in battles with rebel-forces.
The Cost: $49.95
The Lure: The opportunity to feel just like Luke in “A New Hope” on the Millennium Falcon.
What do you get someone who wants to play with lightsabers and pretend they’re a Jedi? You get them this game—it is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen and if I brought it to San Francisco, it and a case of Miller High Life are probably enough to show off my friend John and my true colors, rendering him unmarriable to his bride-to-be…
Item: ZERO-G: The Weightless Experience
What is it? A chance to fly on a plane that takes you high enough out of the atmosphere that you achieve weightlessness.
The Cost: $3675.00
The Lure: The chance to feel like an astronaut without having to worry about education, training and developing a palate for Tang.
What do you get the person that wants to float through the air? Crack. Lots and lots of crack. It will cost less and leave them flying higher
Item: Orbiter Electronic Listening Device
What is it? A SWAT-esque reverse-megaphone that allows you to pick up distinct sounds from as far away as 300ft.
The Cost: $59.95
The Lure: Superhuman hearing has to be a nice bonus…
What do you get for the person that thinks it is necessary to have the ability to hear his neighbors conversations? A restraining order.
Item: Pocket Rock-It! (How did that possibly get through R and D?)
What is it? A miniature-bodied guitar with a full-sized playing surface that fits in the overhead compartment of airplanes.
The Cost: $499.99
The Lure: What’s the point of going to Vegas if you can’t bring a girl back to your room and jam the easy cords of “Your Body is a Wonderland” to her?
What do you get the guy who needs a guitar that he can take on the road with him? The customized headphone-amp and the High Sierra “Gig Bag” accessories—clearly this guy was BORN TO ROCK!
Item: Lil’ Chill Shot
What is it? A miniature refrigeration unit/dispenser for liquor.
The Cost: $169.99
The Lure: No measuring shots, no wasted freezer space, just cold booze with the turn of a knob.
What do you get the person who wants to have Jager on tap? A ride. Not only that—if you are pouring enough shots for yourself on a weekly-basis that the time/effort of opening bottles and pouring is becoming cumbersome, you may want to attend a meeting or two…
Item: The Learning Tower
What is it? A plastic stool that raises to 18” to allow children to stand on it and take part in tabletop learning activities that were previously only for big kids.
The Cost: $169.99
The Lure: Along with the Pull-up diaper and candy cigarettes, it is a chance for your toddler to feel like he or she is a little older.
What do you get the child who wants to reach things they couldn’t before? Uh…a box? A chair? A pile of books? You could probably buy a miniature Genie Lift for the cost of this plastic piece of s***.
Item: 18” Freddie Mercury Action Figure (with Sound!)
What is it? A miniaturized version of the late head singer of Queen.
The Cost: $44.95
The Lure: A chance to have a miniaturized, mustached, leather-pant-wearing guy sing “I Want to Ride My Bicycle” to you while you’re completing your expense report.
What do you get the man who wants a tiny little Freddie Mercury to display on his desk? A stack of Hustler magazines and a blood-test.
THAT'S THE NEWS, FOLKS, and I am OUTTA HERE!!!! mcflyblogs@gmail.com
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