Mid season report

(this blog was originally written before I left for vacation. I had planned on posting it while I was gone, so I could keep my Cal Ripken like streak alive. Due to a shitty broadband connection, and the new lime flavored bud lights, we had a little delay. I’m back now, and plan on covering all aspects of my trip. Everything from Low thrills airlines, to fat white people in bikini’s will be covered at length)

So as the baseball teams take their mid-season break, I thought I’d do the same here. It’s time for a break in the action, to reflect on the past year of the blog. Let’s call this the state of the blog address. I’m also going to start a new ceremony, hopefully as worthless and retarded as the espy’s, but without having to see Pat Summit’s cleavage. I’m going to hand out a few awards to some loyal blog readers. The prizes will be as classy, and in-appropriate as the things you see here.

So we had a good run with the Who would you rather bang? thing. At times the well gets a little dry, and I’ve slacked off on new ideas. Thankfully, some readers have suggested a few. Hopefully in the future, anyone with some good ideas will pass them on. So please, if anyone is ever sitting around thinking who they would rather bang, and would like to see how it stacks up with other people thoughts, please pass on your ideas.

The whole spelling thing just won’t seem to die. As long as the basic point is gets accross, that’s all that matters. Wether or not someone takes the time to proof-read, their comments, or google fact check something, isn’t as important as wether or not what they say is funny, and hurts someone’s feelings. So feel free to make comments about other people’s shitty spelling, as long as it is in bad taste, and mean. Remember this though. I have never lost an argument, and cannot lose on this site. I have full admin authority. I will always get the last word in. If you do get the last word in, or say something funnier than me, I’ll just delete it, and tell the world you paid me to watch you masturbate.

As far as everything else goes, the blog is in good shape. My little trip to the coast, has rejuvenated my mind, and body (sans liver) and I’m ready to roll. I will accept any suggestions to make the blog better. I should put up some newer pics and stuff as well.  So on with the prizes, and I think I’ll be updating the site through the weekend, with plenty of fascinating thoughts and mindless stories. So here are the first ever CTGOBUCKS midseason awards.

Best Commentor award: Trentonio – Much of what you have had to say is as mindless and incoherent as anything ever typed by a primate. However, you have managed to keep things interesting, and rarely type anything that dosn’t inspire at least 5 or 6 responses. You once had an argument with yourself alone, that went on for 4 or 5 posts, leaving the rest of the world speachless. You have a near perfect who would you rather bang record, and comments as much as anybody. Your faithfullness has won you a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 or shitty tequila, whichever you chose. Keep up the good work, and may god have mercy on your soul.

The award for best Comment of the year goes to : Clay aiken. for -Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Cock. Well done you magnificent bastard. Whoever is Clay Aiken, go ahead and step forward, and claim your free 12 pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon. If it really was Clay Aiken, i’ll see you at the next Jonas Brothers fan club meeting.

The Award for most inspirational Comment goes to : Disgruntled Reds Fan, for calling Adam Dunn a Syphillitic turd. Well done you glorious bastard. I’ve used that phrase at least 3 times in every reds game I’ve watched since, and countless times in between. Pure Genius. Make room in your liquor cabinet, and on your nightstand for my inspirational favorites. A 40 oz. of Colt 45 and a Brown Sugar magazine.

The award for most grounbreaking discovery goes to : Tmorris, for discovering another kewpee. Agent Mulder would be proud. Your resourcefullness has one you either, a Double Kewpee with all the fixings, or a free fat jacks pizza, upon your next visit to ohio.

Keep up the good work everyone.

A Star is born

Tonight, the world of the famous, has changed forever. Tonight, was the night we would take dylan out for his first professional portraits. Like all rock stars, we went to sears. Since this was dylans first trip to a mall that I knew of, I took after my parenting role model, michael jackson, and covered his face with a blanket. once we began the session, (sans blanket) it was easy to see, he was a natural born talent. He did the entire range of emotion head shots. Happy, really happy, pissed off, laughing, pooping, and ‘what the fuck you lookin at’? I was expecting the photographer to just take a bunch of pics, and delete the crappy ones. The kid went like 14 out of 15 perfect photo’s. Or else the photographer quickly airbrushed them to screw us into buying them all. Either way, the kid did great. i don’t want to sound like a bragging daddy, but my boy made the kids on the pictures they have blown up and hung in the entrance, look like an advertisement for a tele-thon. I know the term, cutest kid ever gets thrown around a lot these days, but dylan has to be the clear cut #1, with baby jesus being 1(a). I’m gonna go ahead and start mailing out head shots, to various movie studios, and baby food company’s. I think I’ll make an awesome parent of a child star. Nothing could go wrong. I may embezzle all his money into a chain of Emu farms, but who wouldn’t? The only downfall to the whole evening, was just another of a long line of mis-understandings. Apparently Sarah, and the photographer had discussed various outfits, and poses. One of which was him in only a diaper. Just like Miley cyrus, only he’s not a buck-toothed hillbilly. So anywho, after the first round of shots, the photo-chick said, “alright, it’s naked time”. So I got excited, and yada, yada, yada, I am no longer allowed to shop at sears. that’s cool, I’m a Lowes man anyway.

On the way home, we celebrated with a run to Dairy Queen. I had the delicious Thin-mint blizzard. Two of the authors all time fave’s, girlscouts, and ice cream. It was breathe taking. What caught my eye, or my wife’s was those little oval stickers people have on the back of their shitty cars. You know the little white ovals, with three letters in them. She pointed out one that said OBX. She assumes it’s the “outer Banks”. (she went to catholic school, and was praying the day they taught spelling). Now I’m about as hip as a 65 year old Jewish man, but I gotta believe that since we see so many in columbus with those same letters, it stands for Ohio Butt Xylaphone. If anyone knows what this, or any of the other stickers like it stands for, let me know. In the mean time, if anyone would like a photo of the D man, please send $29.95 to the homepage.

C.C. ya later

So the trading season has come early in baseball this year, and the big names are a-packin. The Cleveland indians have busted out the white flags. After falling a game short of the world series last season, they have traded their Ace, and defending Cy young winner, C.C. Sabathia. I’ll admit, I’m not an Indians fan, but I do catch more of their games, than most of their loyalest fans. As a reds fan, this scares me. One because he’s now in the NL Central, and can be as lights out as any pitcher in the game when he’s on. Two because, this just re-affirms for teams, that trading away for prospects, is the answer out. After getting most of their big bats re-signed last season, and stealing a new deal well under market value for Fausto Carmona, Cleveland gave would have had plenty of cash left to make him the highest paid pitcher in the game. A lot of people can argue, that getting what you can for somenody, as opposed to letting them go in free agency is always right. The tribe could have still re-signed him, he never indicated he wanted out of cleveland. After he turned down their offer last spring, that was all she wrote. Cleveland’s poor play this year sealed the deal. Last year, every MLB team got over 40 Million, from their split of the earnings from mlb.com, on top of all the other revenue that team made. A team like cleveland, with solid talent, and a great fan base, could just throw that cash at one guy, and let it ride. How many teams can say they have 2 Aces? Millwaukee sure as hell can. Cleveland used to be able to say that. Now the cubs have acquired Rich Harden. With my lowly reds still fighting a never ending battle with the .500 mark, I can only fear the worst. I once said trading Homer Bailey for Rich Harden was a bad call. I am a dumbass. Now with the start of the fire sale season looming, I can only sit back and wait for the reds to go to year 19 of the rebuilding process. No matter how bad your record is, if you have good players, go get a few more pieces, and keep going. Every team makes plenty of dough. You don’t have to spend like the yankees, but how is a team like cleveland going to get a free agent like sabathia? Oh wait, they signed Jeff Weaver. Never mind, my bad. I’m going to go bet all my money on the indians winning the world series now.

The Ohio state football players getting arrested season has started early this year. Eugene Clifford, a cincinnati native has gotten into trouble for the 2nd time since christmas.  He was suspended from the national championship game, so that’s why we lost. This time he punched a couple people. I have no problem with guys getting into trouble. My theory is that if you want a bunch of hard working white boy’s full of grit, and heart on your team. Go rent ‘Hoosier’s’ or ‘Rudy’ and let an old man fondle your balls. You could also just support shitty teams. If you want to win, you need assholes, plain and simple. What I do have a problem with, is people named Eugene, or Clifford. I only know a couple Eugene’s, but it’s safe to say they are all bastards. They can’t be trusted. As far as cliffords go, I had a little league coach named clifford. He was a dipshit. He knew nothing about baseball, and smelled like the jean jacket of a Def Leopard roadie. He tried to make me play catcher. I closed my eyes when the batter swung, and I had no cup. Not that they made them that small, but that’s not the point. I later avenged these crimes by smashing his mailbox, and peeing on his sons mouthpiece in football. I may never have the chance to pee on anything of Eugene Cliffords, but a boy can dream.

Weekend Round-up

So the holiday season has come and past. No relatives of mine blew themself or anyone else up, but we still had fun anyway. A good time was had by all. Unlike the godless canadians, we celebrated our weekend in true patriotic fashion. There was a large gathering of my relatives. Usually when this many of them gets together, either somebody died, or stole a beer truck. Nobody died. I got to cook for about fitty people. So far none have contracted food poisoning. Sometimes it takes a couple days though. Unfortunately, when this many of my family members get together, someone is going to bring shit up about the flaws of either, the reds, the bengals, or the buckeyes. There’s just too many of them, spread out everywhere. This time it was the Buckeyes, who caused me the pain. Yes I have cousins who reside in none other than Baton Rouge LA. Home of those god damned purple tigers. I took their best all weekend long, and managed to give back a little also. If they find themselves pulled over by a Louisiana state trooper, they’re gonna have a real fun time explaining how somebody stashed a bunch of buckeye leaves, and live buckeye trees in their vehicle. When you bundle them up, they do look a lot like pot plants. They may have the crystal football, but we got the last laugh here. If there is any justice in this world, the transplanted buckeye plants will take root in that rotten soil, and grow a new, medical resistant breed of poison ivy, through-out all of SEC country.

A-Rod’s wife has filed for divorce. Oh no! How will I go on? Apparently, after all the things that have surfaced in the paper the last few years, the escort’s, the stripper’s, the gambling, the steroids. Mrs. Rod. finally had enough. Madonna. Reports surface a week or so ago, that the material girl was now linked to the yankees slugger. This makes me wonder. If you’re the highest paid Baseball player in history, how do you let Madonna be the one that ends your marriage? A-Rod was one of People’s 50 most beautiful people. He’s going to shatter the tainted home run record. He wipes his ass with $100’s, even when he hasn’t pooped. Is Madonna really the best he could pull? I don’t even think Madonna is the hottest gapped tooth chick he could have done it with. Michael Strahan, would have been waay cooler. A-rod’s wife isn’t even all that hot either. It’s not like he had a trophy wife who was just waiting to break his bank. He went through all that for nothing. He’s pretty much gonna lose at least half of a whole lot of cash. This should be a lesson to all the budding superstars out there. Resist the urge to marry the high school sweetheart, the girl with brains, or the girl who shares your passion for sports. You’re gonna fuck it up anyway. Go with the stripper. They have no soul, usually already have kids, and divorce judges have no sympathy for them. Besides, what could be better than going to the strip club your wife works at, to drop off the alimony check. You know they have change.

Hope all my loyal readers have returned from an exciting 4th of July weekend, and can come out of their beer induced haze, and play.

God Bless America!

Here we are, the greatest non-sports weekend of the year. Some call it Independance day, some call it the 4th of July, some call it Fuck you England day. Whatever you call it, I hope everyone enjoys themselves irresponsibly this weekend. It’s the time of year when white trash everywhere don their finest tank tops and jean shorts, slap their wives, grab an 18 pack of Keystone and head out to a fireworks show, in hopes that one of their kinfolk will blow off enough fingers so they will have to give away their NASCAR tickets for the next weeks race. So here’s some tips on how to enjoy this fine day like a true American. Try and avoid the “social” fireworks displays, put on in local parks, and cities. Show your american spirit, buy some illegal fireworks, or make your own, and blow some shit up. Plan on drinking all day also. Plan on drinking more beer than what the laws of physics should allow. Remember my 4th of July drinking guide. For every hour you hope to drink, have at least 6 beers. Ideally, each person will have 2 cases to themselves, just to have a few leftovers for any unexpected guests. Try and spend the day on or near a large body of water. This will help periodically sober you up, and provide relief if you happen to blow yourself up, or catch yourself on fire. This also is a good place to be late at night, with the ladies. Remember, one person swims without a swimsuit, everyone goes without a swimsuit. Don’t worry about fat chick skinny dipping either. The two cases of beer you just drank will take care of that. Try and bring enough stuff to grill for 4 meals. Lunch, Dinner, Pre-skinny dipping, and bratwurst omelets with that fat chick you just met the night before. Plan on having a raging fire nearby. Plan on making it burn from the moment it drops below 85 degrees, till that last beer is gone, Plan on making an enemy with your illegal/homemade fireworks. Plan on having to apologize, and or buy somebody a new car/child. Plan on making such an ass of yourself, that you won’t go in public for at least a week. If everyone follows these few simple rules, our founding fathers will look down on us with pride. Happy Birthday America!

Piling on

So just as the poison ivy is starting to wind down. A new threat has evolved. Sun Burn. The steroids are as good as advertised. Despite the drastically shrunken testicles, I feel like a new man. A stronger, healthier, less itchy new man, with compiling rage, but I’ll take it. So yesterday, we ran into some issues at work. Long story short, my worthless workers, fell way short of getting some stuff done, with looming deadlines, and a beer drinking holiday staring us in the face. So we brought in the closer. Me. I was to go and finish a job that two guys could not do in two trips there. (there trips usually involve getting lost, going to the wrong job, sitting around debating what is better to huff, paint thinner vs. brake cleaner, and just being flat out worthless) I was basically in the middle of nowhere, perfect weather, all day to myself, to get this stuff done. A little fresh air and some excercise, and some time alone with my thoughts. I actually had been looking forward to it. Not only would it give me a little excercise, and some clarity away from the office, I could make the guys who get paid to do this stuff look really bad. I also was going to get one bad-assed tan. Now I’ve received a total of 1 hour and 30 seconds of shirtless time in the sun this year. One hour fishing topless, (hence the poison ivy) and 30 seconds early one saturday when I went out to get the paper in my underwear (my neighbors usually sleep in). I armed myself with some delicious gatorade Tiger sports drinks, some granola bars, and some aerosol sunscreen. The aerosol kind was designed to make the hard to reach places, reachable. Wrong. What a shitty idea. Had I used no sunscreen, I would have only had my shirt off, just long enough to get some rays. The aerosol sunscreen gave me a false sense of security. Now my backside looks like a map of the far east in beautiful white and red blotches. Apparently all the sunscreen that landed on my back, just reflected the suns rays onto the bare spots. Now the scabbing on my stomach from the poison ivy (I scratched it a little) has made bending forward difficult. The charred skin on my back has made bending backwards impossible. I’m now limited to little gyrating motions left and right. I move like the “my humps” video, except my face is nowhere near as jacked up as fergies, and I’ve been with roughly half as many black dudes as she has. My wife has made me promise to leave my shirt on this weekend (sha as if). Ever have a sunburn, that’s way worse 24 hours later? Fuck you Coppertone. I should have known better than to trust a product with a half naked baby on it’s logo. I’m issuing a one week boycott of all companies affilliated with naked babies. Coppertone, the Catholic Church, and even Kewpee. Even though I will be making a visit to Lima, the kewpee boycott should go easy, as I’m bringing about 30 pounds of Brisket for the smoker. The plan was to man the smoker all day, cooking ribs, brisket, and other delights, while taking periodic breaks to the pond, and of course, mass quantities of beer. The new plan is to smear a fine mix of motor oil, and crisco on the un-burnt sections of my back, so I have a nice even burn all the way around. This way next week on vacation, people think I’m just some drunk dude who passed out in the sun, and not some lepper colony escapee.

I did manage to see one thing that cheered me up. Yesterday, some dude, who apparently was going to be there to do some stucco work, showed up, asked me if anyone else had been there, then went into a rant about the dirty mexicans before leaving. Apparently a bunch of metal buckets, Chicken wire, and other tools had dissapeared. Today I had to stop back at the same job-site. Sitting in the driveway was a group of Mexicans. Seven of them had arrived in what appeared to be an old Ryder moving truck. They were grilling meat and veggies, on homemade grills made of halfed out metal buckets, and chicken wire. Pure fucking genius. Not only did they steal this dudes shit, they came back, and rubbed it in his face by using it to show off their resourcefulness to cook a hot lunch. This just goes to show. If we try and put up a fence on the mexican border, some day that same fence will dissapear, only to be reborn in the form of one bad assed treehouse, or condominium complex. This Buds for you, you brilliant mexican bastards.

Chris uses steroids

With all the talk to a follow up to the infamous Mitchell report, I thought I’d pull a Giambi, and come clean now. It’s the same ole story, boy finds himself in a tough situation, boy turns to steroids to get out. So yes, I am a user. It all started about 6 hours ago, but, I’ve been clean since. Except, I’ll start again tomorow, and so on. Before jose canseco can write another book, I thought I’d come beat him to the punch. So the poison ivy has gotten better in a few spots, only to show up just as bad in more spots. Now they say it does not spread, and that after about day 4, no new spots should show up. This is day 16. I had to ditch the calamine, and internet home remedies, and head to a medical professional. So this is how it goes.

At the doctor, I was confronted by a shady character, who offered me a way out. He’s the only non-OSU grad at our doctors office, in fact he went to Northwestern, which is pretty much a dry campus, so he can’t be trusted. He’s also the same guy who “recommended” surgery for my torn rotator cuff, so his track record is less than stellar. Knowing I was running low on yet another bottle of calamine, I was desperate. He said I wasn’t the worst case he has ever seen, but I was the worst he has seen this year. Apparently, poison ivy can get into the blood stream. He assured me that I don’t have aids, just poison ivy in the blood stream, but what I remember from the greg luganis after school special, it’s pretty much the same thing. He told me the benefits of steroids, and I gotta admit, he made it sound pretty awesome. He claims I won’t go into any violent mood swings, or grow 2 hat sizes, but I’m hoping he’s wrong. At least now if I beat my wife, I can go on Oprah, and blame the drugs and make millions in a tell all book. At the very least, I now have someone to blame for really small genitals. Today was the first time I’ve had time to waste on “doctors” in a couple of weeks, so I thought I’d listen to what he said. He reached into his lab coat posket, and since we were talkin roids, I started to drop my pants. Apparently not all steroids are injected into ones ass, by a beefy latin baseball star. Oh well. he pulled out a prescription for “pill” steroids, which I’m sure aren’t nearly as cool as what Bonds takes. I was in and out in less than 15 minutes total. Half of that time was wasted on getting weighed, and having some chick check my blood pressure. This was all after I told them I was there for ‘poison ivy’, why I needed weighed, and measured is beyond me. Plus the chick who weighed me, could never work as a carnie, cause she way over-estimated my weight. If only she knew I drank that diet Dr. Pepper a few weeks ago, she would have guessed about 15 pounds lighter. Anywhoo, I now have a filled prescription for roids, and will likely snap at any minute. Just to be safe I’m going to wear a tank top, and zubaz pants to work tomorow. I’ll keep everyone posted on my results. If nothing else, I can try and score some cattle steroids like the pro’s use, just to make it a better story.

It recently has been brought up by a few folks, that the “who would you rather bang?” series is well missed. In honor of my newfound drug use, and some readers request’s, I’m bringin it back. I had a few great suggestions on some worthy contestants, which I will get to in time. For today though, I’d thought I’d stick with people who’s lifes have been effected by steroids.

Mindy McCready vs. Marion Jones

Miss McCready, stumbled her way into the steroid conversation, when her affair with captain insano himself, roger clemens came to light. I guess as she stumbled in, she fell and busted her face up as well. http://blogs.kansascity.com/photos/uncategorized/2007/07/23/mccready.jpg Apparently it all started when she was 15 years old, so you know she’s easilly talked into stuff, by guys who can buy her beer. It looks as though she was at least hot at one point in her life, http://members.aol.com/cntrylyrcs/imnotsotough.jpg but that won’t do her any good here. No, the rules on this one are as is. Besides, you can’t go back intime for her, that’s when she was the property of Dean Cain, the guy who played superman on a show nobody watched. Miss mcCready has fallen on some hard times as of late. She’s been beat up by some boyfriends, and arrested a few times, not to mention the ride on the “rocket”. She looks to revive her career though, and I’m sure making it into the WWYRB series will send her well on her way to regaining her lost glory.

Her opponent is as formidable as any we’ve seen here so far. Marion is either actually a chick, or she does a bang up job of tucking it to the side http://media1.msnbc.com/j/msnbc/Components/Photos/060819/060819_jones_vmed_4p.widec.jpg Miss Jones herself, is no stranger to the seroid circuit. Not only is she an admitted user, who has seen most of her records, and medals taken away for being juiced, she’s also managed to marry two admitted steroid user’s as well. Despite her massive physique, she’s not afraid to lady it up http://in.rediff.com/sports/2002/dec/04jones.htm but what she’s best known for is the fact that she in no way resembles a dude http://www.bbv-net.de/public/zoompicture/aktuelles/sport/mehr/andere/bild/253433 and here http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/football/news/2001/11/29/glenn_suspended/ 

so, lets all weigh this one out, it’s been awhile, but that’s no reason to rush on a decision. Both these ladies are quite stunning in their own way. good luck, and let the voting begin.