Looks like I need to get my popcorn ready.
Depending on whom you listen to, the Bengals signing of TO is either the best move of all time, or the stupidest management decision in history, that is sure to lead to a mass shooting by a disgruntled employee, and the death of a franchise.
I’m not sure where I stand on this just yet, but I think the result will be someplace in the middle.
My gut reaction, is I am pretty excited, and I think it was a good move.
I know TO has a bit of a track record, and is pretty much a locker room killing asshole, but I think this time it will be different. I know it sounds like the woman whose husband beats her, and cheats on her who is about to get back with him, and then eventually ends up murdered. This time will be different, I can feel it.
I think the mix of Ocho, TO, and Antonio Bryant all trying to catch the same ball could go south in a hurry, but I have a good feeling. I think the three of them are just screwed up enough, that it will actually work. Yes, Bryant is an asshole, with maybe a bit of a drug problem, and the other two are the poster children of diva wide receivers, but I think the sum of the parts may actually work here.
It’s like a cake made with all spoiled, and disgusting ingredients, that once it gets put together, it’s perfection.

I think the two old guys have just enough left in the tank, to be threats, and Bryant is right there as well, if healthy, and not suspended. Sounds like another Bengals receiver, whose tale did not end well.
Right now we may not have a top flight #1 receiver, but then again we may have 3. At the least we have 3 1.5’s, and I like it. It’s the perfect recipe for Carson to get his groove back, for Cedric to have another monster year, for Bernard Scott to become a household name, and our new toy Jordan Shipley to be a serious threat across the middle.
The only thing I don’t like about this, is I saw the Bengals offseason additions on ESPN, and I remembered we also picked up Pac-Man.
Well, almost perfect.
Either way, we have three players, who all have their own TV show.
Dhani’s is the only one I actually do watch, but if things go well this season, Ocho’s, and TO’s shows may make my Tivo.
I understand how folks can be concerned about this mix. But look at the bright side, as a Bengals fan it’s either gonna mean really, really good things, or the same ole same ole of being a Bengals fan will at least be exciting as hell. If it does go south because of TO, it surely will be the end of him. That, and the incentive laden contract are reasons to believe he may be a big help.
What I don’t get, is how people are still picking Baltimore to win the AFC north.
I know it’s the easy thing to do, it take no actual knowledge of football, and if you are wrong, you never have to admit, you just talk about the teams who are winning, and move on. It’s the life of a football analyst. It’s like when you here “SEC speed” in a prediction, or a post game review. It’s waaay easier than actually breaking down the game.
I know Baltimore used to have the best defense, and since some of those guys are still there, it’s hard to get that out of your head. However, there is no question, the Bengals defense is far better. With the exception of two positions, the Bengals have a better player, and a better sum, and a better coordinator. Better players, younger players, who are better lead.
Did you see last season? Even without are starting safeties, best pass rusher, horrible kicking game, and no passing game, the Bengals still owned the Ravens.
Joe Flacco, if you have a lock down corner, can not pass the ball down field, and the Bengals have two lock down corners. He’s all screen passes, 8 yard crosses, and interceptions. With better depth in the secondary, and healthy safeties, it’s a lop sided Bengals advantage.
Offensively, there is no match in the AFC north, and even the most pessimistic Bengals fan has to be a little excited.
So yes, it could be a complete disaster, a train wreck playing out live on CBS every Sunday, and every night in between on Twitter, but even the worst case scenario will be fun to watch.
It could be the end of TO, the end of Twitter, and the best reality television all at once.
If we can just sign our new Tight end before the bye week, I’ll be a happy man.


I’m only 31 years old.
The bulk of my life, well over half, was spent at the same address.
The house I came home to from the Hospital when I was born, was the same house I moved out of as a young adult going into the world on my own.
After that, there was a few random addresses, all of which I still have memorized.
Now, however, I have no idea where the hell I live.
I mean, I can drive there from pretty much anywhere, I can find my way home, even without my GPS.
The problem is, I can’t tell anyone where I live. I can give a general idea, but I have no clue what my actual address is.
If I get lost in the grocery store, I am completely fucked.
In the past month, I have either been in possession of, or dwelled in 5 different addresses.
I’m like a crack whore, with hopefully better furniture, and less AIDS.
It started with our house, which we sold. I was there for a good 5 years or so, so I know that address. As we were preparing to move, I bought some land, paid some dumb-ass fee to get it “registered” so I had an address there so I could build a house, and pay “taxes”.
They even let me put in a driveway, right where they told me to, even though I tried to convince them it was not on my property, which low and behold, it turned out not to be, so I got to pay to move that driveway to it’s current, and hopefully final location.
Lucky for me, I work at a place where we have all kinds of excavation equipment, and I really didn’t pay anything other than the price of some stone, and the hourly rate for some dude who hates, and resents me.
Anywho, once we sold the house, we needed a place to crash until we could move into our temporary quarters while our house is being built.
So that’s three addresses, all of which I do know.
Then we got an email from the geniuses who told me to install a driveway on my neighbor’s property. They decided the address they gave me for our lot, which we own, and pay taxes on, and wrote on the 900 other documents we needed to file to build a house in America, needed to be changed.
Not sure why, I really liked the old address, but they decided to give us a different one anyway.
Now, we are moved into an apartment for 6 months or so, and that is actually the one address I need to know, but just so happens to be the one can never remember.
At this time in my life, I am expected to know where I live, but that’s just not the case here my friends.
I can tell you the address of 7 other places I have either lived or owned, but not the one where my next of kin lives. 

Just tonight, someone wanted to mail me a “thank-you” card, and wanted to know my address. I had to look at my mail to give it to them, which caused my wife to ask me why I don’t know my own address. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.
I guess in cases like this, it actually helps. It almost saved someone from sending me a thank-you card, which is the dumbest thing ever. I hate Thank-You cards.
If someone thanks you for doing something nice, then it’s one thing, but when it becomes an expected process in the way we live our lives, it defeats the purpose, cheapens the point, and makes people like me not want to give anyone anything, but I digress.
The point is, I am in turmoil here, wherever the hell here is, and I think this may be the end of me.
If I don’t learn my address soon, I’m just one moment of getting separated in a crowded place from living in a foster home.

Big News!

July 19, 2010

Things are slowly getting back to normal around these parts.
We’ve moved, yet again.
I finally reached my lifelong goal of living in an apartment.
My wife, is less than thrilled about the deal, and is counting down the days until our house is built.
I, am more of a trooper.
I see the bright side of things. No mowing mainly. I don’t even remember what I did with the shitty mower I bought two months ago.
Did it get stolen? Did I “donate” it? Or is it just sitting in the bottom of a river somewhere, thus fulfilling my prophecy?
It’s kind of like living in a hotel, except not a very nice hotel, no vending machines, and the rooms all have our furniture (sans my big screen). The biggest difference between this and a hotel, is the bed I sleep in has had way less sex in it, compared to your average hotel, let alone a decent soak-n-poke.
It’s not all sunshine, and unicorns however.
There are many frills I miss about owning my own home.
Having a yard for my kid to play in (although the mowing part, and the endless mounds of dog shit make that a near wash, since the D-man can still go to the park, or I can take him down to the highway to throw rocks at semi’s).
I miss having 2.5 refrigerators to keep beer and food in. I miss my bar, with the big screen plasma. I miss my deck. My man cave, my garage, and really just having a house in general.
The real issue, is the trash situation. I did hate lugging my trash can to the edge of my driveway every Wednesday, but now even that seems like a great system. I have to take the actual bag and throw it in a dumpster in the parking lot.
For most folks, this isn’t such a big deal.
For me, it’s a game changer.
Due to a few past “indiscretions” I’m not supposed to be within 500 feet of a dumpster, unless I am under the supervision of an adult.
So either I have to make my wife take it out there, or I have to put it in my truck, and then try and throw it into the dumpster as I drive by on the way to take my kid to daycare.
He enjoys this, as it will put him one step ahead of the game when he gets his drivers license, if he can already throw trash bags from a moving car.
So here we are.
In an apartment that seems to be full of people who are just out of college, or Indian.
But, it’s only temporary. We should be breaking ground soon, but it may not be soon enough.
According to my wife’s “Doctor”, we’re going to need that third bedroom in about 8 months, and I don’t mean for house guests.
That’s right, I’ve done it again. I scored!
So yes, there will be one more little Chris running around everyone.
You’ve been warned.

Stay Classy Indonesia

July 1, 2010

My son, is a great kid. I thought he was perfect.
I thought he was pretty advanced for his age. He can name all the Presidents on all the U.S. currency, which is pretty awesome for a 2 year old. That’s not the only thing that makes him stand out, but as it turns out, he may be waaay behind.
I’m sure by now, we’ve all seen the chain smoking 2 year old Indonesian kid.
He can flick a lighter, and fire one up, blow smoke rings, light a fresh heater with a still smoldering stub. He can hot box, he can exhale through he nose, and he still wears a diaper.
How is that supposed to make me feel as a parent, when all my 2 year old can do is know the difference between his left, and right elbow?
I mean, the kid is only 2, and he burns down two packs a day. Most Americans don’t hit the hallowed 2 pack a day mark until they reach a midlife crisis.
He’s so far ahead, it’s not even funny.
It’s not just that he’s so young, but that he’s so young and has figured it all out.
Imagine, being able to smoke a Marlboro, while someone else wipes your ass for you.
And being a strange foreign land, I’m sure the kid will still be breast feeding for another 4 years. Imagine being able to smoke, while you hit second base.
This kid has the life.
Apparently it’s not this kid either, a lot of fat little Indonesian babies seem to be smoking, according to Youtube, and most news services.
All my kid has done is memorize about 90 books, some of which he can pick up after not reading for nearly a year, and still read it to me.
Those Indonesian kids are probably already on to Playboy, and Hustler.
All we got is healthy lungs, and Brown bear, Brown Bear.
So while my son can see a Baseball game on television, and instantly know he needs to say “Go Reds!”, or that a football game means “Go Buckeye’s!”, and two arms in the air means “Touchdown!”. It doesn’t seem to be enough to keep up with fat little chain smoking, Indonesian kids in some fishing village.
I think the only way to keep my son from falling further behind, is to jump straight to cigars, and scotch. After all, we keep hearing about how much smarter foreign kids are than American ones, so I gotta try something