Gotta Love The South

December 30, 2009

How boring would this world be without the American South?
Just this past week, in college football alone the South has provided us all with endless entertainment.
First we had the Urban Meyer retirement debacle, now all the way down in Texas we have one of the greatest stories of all time.
A coach, locks a player he doesn’t like in a cage. Classic.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t exactly a cage, but can anyone argue that if Mike leach had a cage at his disposal, he wouldn’t have put Craig James’ kid in it?
Who in the world thinks locking a kid, any kid in a darkened room for 3 hours is a good idea? When did Corporal punishment become a viable post-concussion treatment? Was Mike Leach in the KGB? Has he tried waterboarding to treat high ankle sprains? 
All good questions, that would never even come about if it weren’t for the wonderful folks who make up the American South.
Even outside of sports, those simple bastards make life fun for the rest of us.
From possible botched elections, to celebrity sex scandals, to almost every episode of COPS, the south has it all.
Well done, you magnificent bastards.
Keep the good news coming.

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Good Call

December 30, 2009

This has been a week of surprises for My Bengals.
First, they announced that the primetime drought would be over, and they were bumping this Sundays game vs. the Jets onto the NBC Sunday night game.
Sounds good to me. I was bummed when the Bengals weren’t on any of the prime time schedules before the season, better late than never. However, after the win Sunday, it’s not exactly going to be a good show. If New England wins earlier in the day, there is literally nothing to play for. This could become the J.T. O’sullivan show right out of the gate. Your welcome Jets playoff chances. Even if New England loses, the Bengals starters likely will be making cameo appearances, and we all can look forward to Al Michaels, and Collinsworth singing the praises of guys like Frostee Rucker, Morgan Trent, and Brian Leonard.
maybe the primetime thing wasn’t such a good idea after all.

So let me get this straight. No Bengal made the Pro Bowl? Granted, Benson was the only offensive guy that had a chance, and he missed 3 weeks, but what about my guys on Defense?
Leon Hall, and JoJo shut the other teams guys down, week, after week. About 90 percent of the passing stats against the Bengals have been on flare, and screen routes. I know the other guys have bigger names, but I’m willing to bet opposing QB’s would feel safer throwing on Revis, or Bailey than they would the Bengals duo. Both of the guys who got elected starters are great, but chances are most of those votes were in before the season started.
perhaps my biggest problem with all this, is the Ravens guys who made this list.
Ed Reed missed how many games? Haloti Ngatamafghkjkja missed how many as well? Was he even a factor in half the games? Ray Lewis? He’s not even one of the 10 best AFC linebackers, and for the 5th straight year, isn’t even the best backer on his team. I realize Pro bowl voting is a joke, and is based mainly on popularity, and whether you’re a big name guy who’s been there before, but come on.
The Bengals defense is ranked higher than almost every other defense with a pro Bowl representative, and yes, it is a team defense, but can we get a little love?
Oh well, maybe the justice will come Sunday, with he chance to watch  Baltimore, and Pittsburgh get eliminated.
I guess it’s not a total loss.

I think I got it…

December 29, 2009

A lot of mystery has surrounded this whole Urban Meyer thing.
Is he retired? Is he gonna coach the Bowl game? What about next year? Is his health back on track? Theres been so many rumors, it feel like Tiger Woods all over again. Every day his “retirement gets to be less, and less of what we all thought it was. At first, we thought he was gone for ever. Then, maybe just a year. Now, it looks like he just took a long lunch, and is right back in the driver’s seat.
Since I pretty much nailed the Tiger Woods thing on the head well before the national media, I think I’ll give this one a shot.
The way I see it, there can only be two reasons to explain all this.
Here we go.

First.
Mrs. Urban Meyer went totally crazy on the Christmas gifts this year, and Urban was none too happy about it. Mrs. Meyer, thought it was no big deal. “you make like 4 mills a year honey, it’s no big deal” said Urban’s wife. “But dear, I can’t coach forever, what about our retirement? I wanted to take up sailing” cried Urban.
The problem was, Mrs. Meyer had no value for her husbands hard work, or the money it brought them. As I said, I think she went crazy on the Christmas shopping. Somewhere in Florida there is a mailman with a Rolex delivering his route in the rich neighborhoods.
Urban tried and tried to get his wife to understand that the money didn’t grow on trees, and wouldn’t last forever. To his dismay, Mrs. Meyer would just say “oh just win another national title, it’ll be alright”.
the only way to get his wife to stop shopping, was to retire, thusly ending the cash flow. The Contract with UF, the Nike deals, whatever crappy ads he did locally, all would be drying up, thus causing his wife to realize she was wasting all their money, and the gravy train was about over.
By retiring, and then un-retiring, he tought her a lesson. When he retired, she had to take back a bunch of shit she bought, that they could no longer afford. By un-retiring, he made his wife super happy, and also got laid in the process, thus relieving his “stress”, and all is right in the coaching world.

The other theory, is much more simple.
He announced his retirement, and only stayed retired for a day, simply to fuck with Lane Kiffin.

Calling It Quits

December 28, 2009

After a lot of thought, and a lot of soul-searching, and meeting with my family, and my Doctor, I’ve decided to step down from the whole blogging thing.
For some time now, I’ve neglected my health, and put my personal life on the back-burner, so I could devote my full attention to this blog. Recent events have forced me to reconsider my priorities. This will be my final blog.
I no longer can devote the time it takes, to continue what I’ve been doing for years. To provide the type of “blog” my readers deserve, takes every bit of my attention, and puts too much of a strain on my health, and my family. I no longer can devote that type of attention. I’d like to thank all of you who have stood by me over the years, and lent your support.
On second thought. Maybe I can just take a little time off. We’ll call it a “leave of absence” so I can get my personal life, and my health back in order. I plan on taking off a few months, and then maybe if my health is up to it, I can start blogging again, the way my readers are accustomed to.
Better yet, I’ll just cut back how often I blog, maybe every few days as opposed to almost every day like I’ve been doing. This should make things a lot easier.
You know what, I actually feel a lot better already, and my family life is right back on track. That was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I sure hope it goes as smoothly for Urban Meyer.
Well, that’s all for today. I’ll see all of you tomorrow.

Merry Christmas

December 24, 2009

To everyone out there,
Merry Christmas.
Be happy, be safe, and enjoy the day, with whomever you can. If you are away from those you love, buy a hooker.
If you don’t celebrate Christmas, enjoy the day off work, and I’ll see you at tax time.
God Bless

Changing my mind

December 24, 2009

My Christmas list this year, was very simple. It was a total 180 from the lists of my youth. No Ewok Villages, game console’s, or anything a younger version of myself would want in any way. This was merely a list of simple needs. I was more excited about what my son is getting, and didn’t really care if I got anything at all.
That all changed today.
On the way home from work, I dropped by the mall to pick up two last-minute gifts. Both would be from the same store, but it didn’t matter, as the nightmare began the second I pulled into the parking lot, and realized I would need to park somewhere 3 zip codes over.
The big problem, is that I am a strange, strange creature. I actually read books. Books that are printed on paper. Books that Oprah didn’t tell me to read. Books that a lot of folks will never hear of. I like to read about whatever subject seems cool at that moment, and that was what drove me to buy these two gifts at a Barnes’ & Noble store, at the mall, on December 23rd.
Huge mistake.
The way Barnes’ and Noble is set up, is designed only for people who read either of the 9 “popular” books of the day. Most of the store is dedicated to what books Oprah has given us permission to read, the rest is for gift cards, regular “hallmark” style cards, and any shit dealing with ‘Twighlight’.
If you are looking for a non-fiction book, by a non-famous author, written about anyone not named Obama, you might as well be looking for Unicorn droppings. You can buy any number of DVD’s (dozens dealing with both Twighlight, and Obama) or magazines keeping you up to date on the happenings of all of the Kardashian’s and the Hilton’s. You can buy just about any kind of “book for dummies” you can think of, as well as any kind of book about cooking for retarded vegan’s without leaving a carbon footprint.
If you are looking for a biography about any president who neither signed the Declaration of Independence, or has his face on Mt. Rushmore, you’re shit out of luck. Too bad for all the President Polk fans out there who were wondering about how Oregon became a state.
I was about 45 minutes into my journey before it dawned on me that I was totally fucked. I had a choice to make. I either had to give up my search, hike 45 minutes to my car, and drive all the way downtown to a private bookstore, or I could just buy one of the books Oprah wanted me to buy.
I bought two books Oprah hasn’t read yet, but I’m sure she’ll get to them soon enough. One actually seems like something I’ll try to “borrow’ after my recipient finishes it.
After I waited in the amusement park style line, and paid for my book I started hiking back to my ride (would have saved 10% if I were a “club member”, which I decided I’m a much better person for not being in this club). After almost getting run over by several geriatric’s, and high school girls, I got in my car, and tried to get home. My nightmare was just getting warmed up. This mall, like all mall’s will be the source of my nightmare’s for weeks to come. I not only witnessed a collection of the worst driver’s in the world, but a complete breakdown of the rules of society.
Most of the other cars would have been better operated by farm animals.
It was like nobody behind the wheel had ever seen a car before, let alone drive one on the road. This was clearly, the worst decision I have ever made.
Up to this point, I had done pretty well. All my gifts had been bought, really early in the morning, by my wife, via the internet’s, or at the liquor store. This was my only real slip up of the Holiday season. Not having been exposed to this mess all month made it hurt that much worse.
So because of this, I have decided to completely scrap my Christmas list.
Here it goes.
       Dear Santa,
I know I asked for a bunch of other stuff, like Bengals t-shirts, and stuff for my BBQ set-up, but could you forget all that? Go ahead and scrap my entire list, I only want one thing this year.
Could I please have a sniper rifle instead?
I can get my own bullets, and I’m sure I’ll only need about 30 minutes worth. It would also be awesome, if you could build some type of bell tower in the parking lot of the mall near my house. Outside the Barnes’ & Noble would be great. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask you for, except maybe some shiv’s or a book on how to make toilet wine, or maybe even a book about “being your own defense counsel for dummies”.
Thanks in advance Santa, I know you’ll come through for me. After all, I know for a fact you liked the bourbon and condoms I set out for you last Christmas.
   Merry Christmas,
Chris

A Christmas Miracle

December 23, 2009

I finally can say I am fully recovered from this past weekend. From the massive amounts of booze I put down my throat, to the latest last second loss to an AFC West squad suffered by my Bengals. I’ve gotten through it.
The Bengals fought the good fight, but came up short. All was not lost though. The passing game stepped up, and they went on the road, all the way to the left coast, and gave the #2 AFC team all they could handle. The game I saw, showed me that my Bengals, with all their defensive pieces, could take down San Diego, and my least favorite player, Phillip “I like young boy’s” Rivers. Had it not been for mental errors, it’s game over, and the Bengals are on the fast track to the 2 seed in the AFC. The game I saw, showed me the Bengals were the better team. Each San Dog TD resulted from the Bengals having a bone headed 3rd down penalty, that took a sure punting situation off the board, and put a Chargers first down in its place. Leon Hall, or the Rookie 3rd string safety having a coverage collapse lead to the other. Caldwell having another impressive fumble didn’t help, but with all distractions aside, and the playoffs on the line, I feel good about my Bengals chances from here on out.

I also had the privilege of being part of the wedding of two of my best friends. It was a great time, a weekend away, and a blur all at once. The D-man loved all he got to see in downtown Cincy, and playing with he grandparents. My wife and I had a chance to spend some time with some dear old friends, and just cut loose. I of course, tried to destroy my poor liver in the process. I no longer have the training regiment that allows me to consume huge quantities of alcohol, or go by on very little sleep. Despite all this, I pressed on, and got all I could out of my rented tuxedo. From what I can recall, I had about 13-16 more mixed drinks than what I really “needed” saturday night. I started drinking on an empty stomach, and went hard until it was time to crash. I partied like a 23 year old. Here’s the kicker.
For whatever reason, when I woke up Sunday, I didn’t feel that bad at all. Not even a delayed hangover like you get when you wake up still drunk. I was good to go. I figure one of two things went down.
Either the bar tender was “forgetting” to put booze into some of my drinks, or it was a Christmas miracle.
I doubt she was skimping me on the booze, as it was already paid for, and I tipped well. Plus, I threw in plenty of wine, and beer between mixers (and during), so it’s hard to skimp on the alcohol with those.
I gotta go with the Christmas miracle theory. I know for a fact I was trashed, and remember thinking I was going to regret it in the morning. So whomever is responsible, be it Jesus, Santa, or the ghost of Christmas present, I thank you, for saving me from the hangover from hell.
Sure, I had a few cobwebs, that are just no gone, but it could have been much, m uch worse. Both for me, and my Bengals.

Foul!

December 16, 2009

I wish there were referee’s following everyone around in everyday life.
How awesome would that be, if whenever anyone did something stupid, someone would blow a whistle and call them for a foul.
Three perfect examples of how this would help this world came to me while watching retardo-vision early this morning.
The D man woke early, and mommy is now dealing with the same flu stuff we all had earlier. The television was on NBC, and I could not find the remote. This meant that while I was getting him his breakfast, I had to watch crappy NBC news, shortly followed by the Today’s show, which is the worst show on television, not involving British judges, or Real housewife’s of any kind.
The first story, involved the search and rescue mission for the missing Hiker’s on Mount Hood. Obviously, I feel sorry for the families of these people, and realize it’s gotta be tough to give up hope but, come on people. First off, lets stop calling it a rescue mission, for obvious reasons. Second, is there any fine people have to pay, when they do something so stupid that results in putting countless others live’s at risk? Such as, climbing Mt. Hood during a snowstorm…in December. I gotta call a foul on this one. Climbing a mountain may be awesome, and for some people it’s a major achievement, but let’s do these events in the summer time, for obvious reasons.

Second, was the “missing” woman in Utah. As soon as I saw the family portrait, I knew what went down there. The crazy looking dude who looks like he likes to burn things killed the fat chick. End of story…you would think. Apparently, this dude’s story is that he took his two young kids “camping” in the middle of the night, and his wife was “missing” when they got home. The worst part is, the retarded cop claimed that there was no way to verify this because snow would have covered the campsite, and any evidence to back his story.
I’m calling foul on this one as well. A personal foul for having the worst alibi ever, and a flagrant foul, for if this moron really did take two toddler’s camping, in the middle of the night…in december…in Utah.
Let’s get back to the Husband of the year candidate for a minute. Apparently, he’s now “refusing” to talk to investigators. Who can blame him. You gotta figure if these cops are stupid enough to believe the middle of the night camping story, they may just be dumb enough to leave him alone if he just ignores them long enough. I’m also gonna call a foul on Utah’s finest investigating squad for this as well.

The final story, blew my mind. Associated Press Athlete of the Decade…Tiger Woods? Really? Even if we totally ignore the revelations of the last few weeks, and the fact that Tiger is a Sociopath, and a horrible, horrible person, athlete of the decade? I’ll go so far as saying Golf is a sport, even though I think a game best describes it, on the same level as Bowling, or Billiards. However, golfer’s are not athletes. Not by any standard. If the “sport” you take part in, may be easier to play while drinking, you are not an athlete. Yes it takes great skill, but seriously, look at golfers. Most of them make me look like Michael Phelps (another decent pick for this award).
Where’s the love for people whose sport actually requires athleticism, like Lance Armstrong, or Peyton Manning? What about a guy who may be the greatest Baseball player off all-time, in Albert Pujols? He won Rookie of the year in 2001, hit .300 or higher every season of this decade, hit at least 20 Home Runs every season including the injury shortened ones, and finished in the top 4 in MVP voting, every year of the decade, including years where he won the award. I hate the dude, but he’s going to go down as one of the best athletes of all-time, let alone the decade that will be known as his best.
Come on people, I gotta call a foul here as well.
At the very least, let’s give it to an athlete who plays a sport where smoking doesn’t help the performance, or a Cincinnati Red of some sort.

On The Mend

December 15, 2009

Just when I thought I was in the clear, the Flu took me down hard. It was aided by the shitty play of my Bengals, as my Sunday afternoon went from what I thought would be a relaxing day at home, to a relaxing day of ridding my body of all it’s fluids.
The Scotch regimen was working like a charm, however once I had gone two whole days without catching my son’s flu, I let my guard down.
So here I am, back in action, and feeling like a champ.
I do have to admit, it was well timed if anything. Not only did I get out of a crappy day after the Bengals lost at the office, I got a much needed boost to my diet. A lot of “suckers” out there, spend hours at the gym, and days of eating nothing but health food to lose the kind of weight I did in just 24 hours. My pants are fitting like old times now, and I barely had to lift a finger. The folks who are all crying about the swine flu won’t tell you about that upside.
Plus, I am pretty much indestructible now, as I have already bitten this season’s flu bug, which will come in handy. I’m in a wedding out-of-town this weekend, so not only is my tux going to fit awesome, but my immune system will be running on all cylinders. More drinks for me!
So Hooray for the flu. Next to hardcore food poisoning, there is still no better way to lose weight.

National Gang Week

December 11, 2009

Within the span of about 5 minutes today, my wife received the same Text message twice. It was one of the “please forward to everyone” multi-paragraph text messages, that retards enjoy sending to you.
This particular message was very alarming. Not because of the contents, but because people I know were stupid enough to not only know people stupid enough to forward it to them, but also to forward it to my wife. My wife, God love her, killed it in it’s tracks.
It said something along the lines of “needing to warn all the women out there” because it was “National gang week”, and gang’s were “on the rise”, and they had a “new tactic aimed towards women”. Apparently, these “gangs” take a car seat, with a fake baby in it, and set it next to a road. The baby will be “covered in blood” and some poor unsuspecting woman will stop to save the baby, and the gangs will run out of “cornfields” and “rape and torture” the women.
First let me say, there is no reason anyone should ever send a chain/multi-forwarded text message to anyone unless it has a hilarious picture, or says something like “Tiger Woods’ wife is down at the Costco parking lot giving out BJ’s trying to get back at Tiger”. Anything less than that is just strengthening the retardation of America.
However, since at least 90 percent of Americans are retarded, there is a chance this particular message will keep getting passed around. So, with that in mind, let me take a minute to point out how fucking stupid this message is. Then, if all goes well, I will move on to chain messages about gas boycott’s, hidden AIDs needles, and serial killers who hide under cars in the Wal-Mart parking lot.
Here we go.

“National Gang Week”. Really? National Fucking Gang Week? Did they decide on the date at the annual gang convention and crime show in Vegas? Who picks the date? Is it the elected head of some gang union, or is it like a board of gang director’s? Is there a parade, or even a specially colored ribbon I can wear to support National Gang Week? I don’t know about you guys, but I have enough on my plate this time of year, I don’t think I have time for National Gang week. Is there any way we cn move it to early May?

The gangs are hiding in cornfields: Let’s keep this one simple. If you can see a cornfield where you live, you don’t have gangs where you live. Chances are, even if you live a long way from the nearest cornfield, you still don’t have gangs where you live. Sure you may have a group of high school drop-outs who all hang out together, some wearing a unified color, and even claiming to be in a gang. Unless, you are a rival high school dropout, the only thing you have to worry about from these clowns is maybe getting your car stereo stolen when you park to buy crystal meth. Unless you work 3rd trick at a liquor store, even the most hard-core of gangs is no threat to you.
99% percent of the people who pretend to be in a gang, are only a threat to themself, of any future children they should produce. The other 1% lives nowhere close to you. If you do live near this 1%, you have bigger problems to worry about. The least of which is a text message about gangs in cornfields.

If you are driving around during national gang week, which appears to be in the middle of December for some reason, and you see a field that still has corn in it. Please, check and see if the farmer is still alive. he should have had those crops off months ago. If the field still has corn in it, he either died, or ran off to join a gang somewhere else.

Maybe the biggest problem we have here, besides further retarding America, is the boy who cried wolf syndrome. Even if the odds are 1 and 1 billion of someone driving past a bloody baby left on the side of the road in a car seat, if they don’t stop to help this baby, whomever started this text message needs shot. Granted, it will never happen, but if you do see a baby left on the side of the road, please, for the love of christ pick it up, and call 911. If a gang comes running out of a cornfield, whether it be during National gang week, or any other week, I will buy you a case of delicious Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer, and say I’m, sorry.
In the mean time, everyone be careful. With a little bit of luck, we can get through National Gang Week, and still be alive for Capital one Bowl Week, which is just around the bend.