Much of the summer was dedicated to converting a very, very cluttered study into an Ube room. This involved transporting lots of files and furniture, stripping the ceiling of popcorn, priming, painting the room several colors, taking down and replacing the fan, and decorating the room with various infant-like pieces of furniture (click on the pictures for the larger versions, if you are so interested). Good times ...
So ... the popcorn-removal aspect of the project sort of blew.
Like, really blew.
Minus the persistent electrocution threat, the taking down of the fan really wasn't that tough. I also noticed that many of my pictures featured beer bottles in the background.
Sanding the ceiling covered everything in white dust, starring yours truly as Tony Montana.
Taping off the molding sucked, but the primer worked like a champ, even on the newly sanded and bikini-waxed ceiling.
Yes. Pink. Very pink.
Step 72 involved painting alternating green stripes for Ube.
The crib was among the many, many things I have put together over the past few months.
The in-laws came through with these cabinets and some awesome drapes.
Here we see the new fan, spinning in front of the super-white, smooth ceiling.
The glider was awkward to put together, but super-comfortable and meshes well with the stripey stuff.
Like Jews to bagels and lox To Fox, the religious right flocks Now the White House is going to treat them As an ignorant enemy full of phlegm Shoulda just stuck with the Simpsons, Fox
Has State finally reached bottom? If we had I’s, we forgot to dot ‘em All we ask is respectable ball But it’s going to be a long haul So smoke ‘em if you got ‘em
His fat-ass mouth he’ll never hush Painkillers have made his brain mush Made racist comments about McNabb As he fed his enormous flab No room at the NFL inn for that bitch Rush
Under Bush, help came never He thought his flyby was being clever The pace of recovery has made me queasy What’s the future of the Big Easy? Hope Obama indeed makes it better than ever It was great to see Ned Ginn grabbing And shut up the announcers from blabbing Miami had me on needles and pins It was Hispanic Heritage Month for the ‘Fins What better way to celebrate than a stabbing
Now, I’ll be the first to admit that it’s likely not too smart to grade Pack football coach Tom O’Brien immediately following one of the most embarrassing and disturbing losses in the history of NC State football. However, I’m a believer that every new coach should receive five years to instill his program and his kids before the subject of his dismissal—or a contract extension—should be broached. Keeping that in mind, we’re now 2.5 years into the O’Brien era … so let’s have a (not totally comprehensive) report card of the progress halfway toward that five-year mark.
Gameday Coaching:C Why is this category first? Because nothing else matters except Saturdays (and sometimes Thursdays). Each and every measurement begins and ends with gameday. Keep in mind that this category is substantially and crucially different than preparation; this involves making in-game adjustments based on what the other team is doing. Winning the third quarter is usually a fairly good indication that what you are seeing in the first half and reacting to during halftime changes is working. Frankly, this is an area that has been woefully disappointing since O’Brien arrived; too often, the damn-the-torpedoes resolve (hell, he’s an ex-Marine) involved in sticking with a plan and hoping it eventually pays off has been found to be wanting against the better coaches. Among all the categories in which you can grade a coach, this one is perhaps most disturbing to me.
Recruiting:B To be fair, this is an area where O’Brien has actually been a pleasant surprise, in most quarters. He has long been considered to have a tremendous eye for talent, with some even describing him as an advance scout for Notre Dame when he was the head man at Boston College (i.e., he would spot a player at B.C., offer him a scholly, N.D. would see that happen, swoop in and land the player). To some who rely too much on rankings and get star-struck, there would appear to be an over-reliance on “sleepers.” However, O’Brien and his staff have proven that not only are they adept at recruiting to a system and signing players who match their profile, but they are also increasingly able to land big-time talents who are coveted by major programs. This grade would be higher if there were a couple fewer unqualified players every year and the on-field results were trending upward a little more clearly, but I think the recruiting philosophy is a winnable blend of system additions and difference-makers, and it will bear out as a successful approach in the long run.
Preparation/Game Planning:C+ The hard part is that the blame for woeful early-season starts has to be bundled into this category -- but so to do the strong finishes that have occurred in O’Brien’s first two seasons. For the most part, the staff has done a fairly good job of anticipating what the foe is going to do and fashioning a game plan that maximizes advantages and addresses shortcomings, especially (as with Herb Sendek in basketball) when there is additional time to do so. However, holes in the system have appeared in Year 3, with the predictability on the Pack’s part and the element of surprise on the opponent’s side leading to mind-boggling losses at Wake Forest and at home to Duke. Initially, this has been perceived to be a strength of this staff, but the relative lack of results in the era-defining Year 3 is setting off alarm bells throughout Wolfpack Nation.
Player Development:B- Another very tough grade because there are areas where player development is easy to see (along the lines of scrimmage) and other areas where the lack of development is glaring (secondary, linebacker). Year 3 has demonstrated an almost unconscionable lack of fundamentals in some spots, which have been graphically displayed in the sheer number of missed tackles and dropped passes. Shortcomings in this category also have to be attributing to the slow starts under O’Brien as well. However, if you believe that games are won and lost on the line of scrimmage (as I do), this grade should get a requisite boost thanks to what would appear to the development of potentially dominant defensive and offensive lines. However, in Year 3, once again, whether this category can be perceived as a strength or weakness of this staff is certainly up for debate due to recent performances.
Staff:B- One of the biggest criticisms of Chuck Amato (and rightfully so) was his inability to retain assistants from year to year, thus losing any semblance of continuity within the program. Now, though, the question has shifted into whether continuity should trump an overly loyal approach to assistants who don’t appear to be getting the job done. Does O’Brien have the fortitude to say goodbye to someone he hired or has a longstanding relationship with? If this is truly a “performance-based organization,” as he has repeatedly stated, at what point do you stop wandering down a certain road and start looking for a new path? These are legitimate questions for the offseason, should the Pack season continue to deteriorate at its current pace. But on the whole, O’Brien has assembled a loyal, hard-working, tireless group of football junkies who love to recruit … one would like to believe that that eventually has to pay off.
Offense:B The presence of Russell Wilson automatically bumps this grade up a notch or two, because what he has done is bring playmaking ability into a sound system that relies on the winning of one-on-one matchups. As the trump card, Wilson has the ability to save a play by making something out of nothing with his feet, and coordinator Dana Bible also deserves a lot of credit for tailoring his offense to match Wilson’s strengths, instead of the other way around. Now, whether or not the playcalling itself is too vanilla or conservative is certainly a viable question. Too often, defenses seem to know what play is coming based on formation, and it would appear that every time Wilson is under center, a run is coming. Bible has long been dogged by the reputation that he plays it too close to the vest (State has used maybe two trick plays on offense since O’Brien’s staff arrived), but his willingness to institute spread offense principles represents a departure from his desired offense and a willingness to play to personnel strengths, resulting in a sound grade overall.
Defense:C+ Here, opinions range quite a bit, most revolving around the ability—or lack thereof—of coordinator Mike Archer. On the plus side, State’s defense this year features more 3-4 principles and the defensive line has been both stout against the run and strong on the pass rush. On the down side, the Pack has been able to get precious few turnovers, has been devastated by inconsistency at linebacker and has been destroyed by inexperience and lack of fundamentals in the defensive backfield. To be fair, the Wolfpack has lost perhaps the best overall player on its team in linebacker Nate Irving and another playmaker in safety Javon Walker, whose career has ended abruptly. Teams attacked the seams in Irving’s absence last year, and when you combine his loss this year with the fact that the Wolfpack is horrible (there’s no other word for it) at cornerback, then basically teams can attack the middle and the boundaries of the field with short passes with abandon—and have. Where NC State is now is the secondary is too undisciplined to play zone successfully and too unathletic to play man successfully, which has allowed teams to attack through the air relentlessly with quick passes on three-step drops, rendering ineffective the Pack’s lone defensive strength: the defensive line. Now, the plus side is that it will be easy to predict what opposing offenses are going to do to State from here on out; the down side is that this coaching staff has proven to be powerless to stop it even when it knows exactly what is coming. How the second half of the ’09 season plays out will go a long way toward determining many of the categories above—and which grades need to be altered.
Special Teams:D In a word, unacceptable. State either has the wrong guys on special teams, the wrong schemes on special teams, the wrong emphasis on special teams or the wrong recruiting approach to special teams—or all of the above. The punter has to hope for 20-yard rolls to approach respectable punting averages when it isn’t getting blocked, the kicker is obsolete beyond 40 yards and can’t reach the 10-yard line on kickoffs, the coverage units aren’t disciplined or tough enough to handle assignments, and the return teams are led by a guy who goes 95 yards 2% of the time and runs 35 miles an hour into the kidneys of his own blockers the other 98% of the time. The Pack has a helluva snapper, though. Seriously, Jerry Petercuskie may be a strong recruiting coordinator, but as a special teams leader, he has to be aware that his job is in jeopardy, because his unit’s performance has been simply inexcusable, and outside of Steven Hauschka in O’Brien’s first year, this phase of the program has been surprisingly inadequate.
Results/Overall Grade:C+ Ah yes … the nitty gritty. NC State is 14-17 overall and 7-11 in ACC play thus far under O’Brien. The 5-7 mark in Year 1 actually represented a strong coaching effort considering what was left O’Brien & Co., and last year’s turnaround and four-game winning streak to earn a bowl berth was very impressive as well. Perhaps unfortunately for O’Brien and his staff, though, that finish led to high hopes for the Wolfpack heading into 2009, spurred by the return of the ACC Offensive Player of the Year in Wilson, the decision of standout end Willie Young to bypass the NFL for one more season, the return to health of a few key players and a favorable schedule. In most quarters, the expectations were tempered quite a bit by the loss of Irving (it was underestimated, in my opinion), but the lackluster outing in the season opener against South Carolina sent a shock wave through the Pack faithful. Lopsided wins over Murray State and Gardner-Webb proved that the Wolfpack could dismantle the teams it was supposed to beat, and a thrilling victory over Pitt showed that State could play with the big boys. Laying cracked and stinky eggs in the first two conference matchups against eminently beatable Wake Forest and Duke, however, suddenly throws into question the actual direction of the program.
It may not be entirely fair to place so much of the emphasis on the referendum on O’Brien’s tenure on Year 3 instead of the first two campaigns (although the grade is a bit higher due to the strong finishes in the 2007 and 2008), but the reality is that Year 3 is usually when programs on solid footing under a new coach tend to begin emerging. NC State has displayed time and again that it is a second-half team under O’Brien, but that reduced margin for error is going to catch up with any team eventually. Is this the year? That remains to be seen, but one suspects that the Wolfpack had better win a couple of games it is not supposed to win in order to take some of the heat off of O’Brien, because those howls in the distance are much closer than they appear—and they sure as hell ain’t wolves.
“But there is another kind of evil which we must fear most, and that is the indifference of good men.”
A tattoo artist I know once told me that they had a rush of youngsters coming into their parlor asking for “the tattoo from ‘Boondock Saints’” (an Irish cross on the inside of the arm). Setting aside the idiocy and unoriginality stemming from asking for a tattoo that means nothing except that you saw it in a movie that was made a decade ago, it pointed out the rise of this flick as a cult classic. So, I had to check it out for myself.
Originally released in 1999, it was re-released in theaters in 2006. It was written and directed by Troy Duffy, who apparently had been inspired to write the screenplay when he witnessed a drug dealer rob a corpse for heroin money in Los Angeles. Casting problems stymied the production of the film itself, along with Duffy’s own ego problems; at one point, Mark Wahlberg and Stephen Dorff had been tabbed for the lead brother roles—which, obviously, would have been met with horrible results.
The movie deals primarily with the concept of vigilante justice. Twin brothers Connor and Murphy McManus, played by Sean Patrick Flanery and Norman Reedus, respectively, are intent on avenging their dead mother, who was killed under circumstances we’re not privy to—or so we are somewhat led to believe. Either that or they are inspired by a sermon about the sad, incredible tale of Kitty Genovese. Living in poverty in an old jail or locker room, the brothers toil at dead-end jobs, brawl, go to church, punch women, speak many languages and, of course, drink. A lot. All of those factors eventually lead to them getting caught in the cross-fire between the Irish and Russian mafia, thrust into the middle of an international gang war they wanted little part of. After an evening in their favorite bar (served by a hysterical old bartender with Tourette’s), they get into a dustup with Russian gangsters that leads to a couple of dead Ruskies—and the brothers emerging as prime suspects for the Boston PD.
Cue the arrival of FBI Special Agent Paul Smecker, an eccentric, flamboyantly gay character played by Willem Defoe (apparently channeling Denis Leary). Using a Discman (which is funny, for some reason), Smecker listens to classical music as he investigates crime scenes and creeps out his colleagues with his effeminate ways. However, in a movie riddled with gay overtones, the agent attempts to fight back against the stereotypes in some ways; in one scene, after an intimate encounter with an Asian man, he kicks him out of bed, saying, “Cuddle? What a fag.”
The shot-up brothers eventually turn themselves into Smecker, playing up the fact that they acted in self-defense and using the jail as a safe haven against Russian mafia reprisals. The McManus brothers turn out to be local heroes among the cops, giving them even more protection, and Smecker realizes that they will bear close watching. In a strange scene set in the jail in the middle of the night, God supposedly revealed to the brothers simultaneously that their mission is to punish the wicked; the revelation isn’t clear in the movie and I only read about it in other quarters, so that’s a pretty major plot point to leave clouded in confusion.
Using foreshadowing and flashbacks, more characters are woven into the story, including a surprise appearance by the “Hedgehog,” Ron Jeremy, as a mafia henchman and the husband of Chloe from “24,” Carlo Rota, as boss “Papa Joe” Yakavetta. Somewhat accidentally, the McManus brothers stumble into the Yakavetta line of fire by intercepting a shit-ton of money involved in a Yakavetta drug deal, aided by the hysterical Rocco, a “Serpico” lookalike and Yakavetta mule with a variety of issues. The brothers put coins over the eyes of their adversaries, an ancient ritual intended to pay the toll for the dead to get across the river Styx.
Eventually, the brothers realize that they can steal from the evil while removing them from the world (they refer to themselves humorously as 7/11), so they establish a vendetta against Boston’s criminal underworld, eventually incorporating Rocco into their exploits. Rocco gets off to an auspicious start in overcompensating for his pushover reputation, killing a few Mafioso in a café (including one who looked liked Borat), accidentally murdering his sometimes-girlfriend’s cat, fondling an unconscious stripper (to which he says, “I’ll tip her!”) and shooting up a strip joint.
Driven by the credo “Evil man. Dead man.”, the trio’s efforts to exterminate as many pieces of shit in Beantown as possible forces the Yakavetta family to bring an animal out of retirement. “Il Duce” is painted as a cross between Hannibal Lecter and Kaiser Soze, a caged and imprisoned weapon to be used only as a last resort. He’s played by the always-underrated Billy Connolly, and after his pardon is bought, he goes after the threesome with an unstoppable, demonic pursuit. The epic moment of the movie comes when Il Duce tracks down the brothers and Rocco, and what ensues is a slow-motion, hellacious gunfight set to classical music in a really neat scene.
Smecker keeps stumbling across and investigating gorier and gorier scenes, and his inability to track down the culprits leads to something resembling a mental breakdown. He envisions a reenactment of the gunfight in another tremendous effect that depicts him walking through the flashbacks as bullets, blood and body parts fly all around him. The haunted Smecker gets his big break when he finds Rocco’s finger (somewhat predictably) lying in a bush. When the trio realize that Smecker will eventually find out who they are, some in-fighting ensues, although they team back up to fix their wounds with an iron, in a rather disturbing and pain-inducing scene.
Also somewhat predictably, Rocco goes over the edge during an intense confrontation with a priest inside a confessional booth. When the Yakavetta family eventually catches the three, Rocco meets an untimely end, marked by his final words of “Don’t ever stop.” The McManus brothers gain a couple of unlikely partners when Smecker enables them and Il Duce joins their cause as well. Again, in a rather unclear scene, the audience is asked to make the supposition that Il Duce is, in fact, the brothers’ father. In the next-to-last scene, the brothers and their father execute “Papa Joe” in a courtroom, gaining access thanks to the help of the police and Feds.
The credits run to a pretty cool documentary-type treatment of Boston citizens (even though the flick is filmed in Canada) reacting to the question of whether “The Saints” (they are never referred to as “The Boondock Saints” in the movie) are good or evil, asked by a reporter played by the girl who plays Holly on “The Office.” We listen in as Bostonians pontificate on whether killing is ever justified, whether the McManus trio are purely murderers or whether they are actually doing a service in protecting the city and its people from the harshest criminals.
It’s an intriguing movie, buoyed by some cool scenes, a unique premise and an aggressive soundtrack. However, the promise delivered in the first half of the flick disappears in the latter half, as the film devolves into a shoot-‘em-up. Sure, there is lots of blood and some timely one-liners, but the philosophical bent and discussion of morality offered up in the beginning are quickly forgotten at the end. Among other holes, are we really led to believe that the brothers just worked in a slaughterhouse and moped around up until their revelation? Is it not strange that they fell into their mission as evil exterminators accidentally? Failing the authenticity of his name, Flanery is simply not believable in his role as a badass; he’s just too dainty to pull it off. Also, there should simply be zero confusion as to major plot points such as God telling a couple of layabouts to start killing criminals, the references to the mother and Kitty Genovese, and whether or not Il Duce was father to the McManus brothers.
All told, it was an interesting, cool movie and well worth watching, but it fell far short of most of the elements that turn a forgotten flick into a cult classic. But it may be too late to stop the momentum; apparently, the sequel, “Boondock Saints 2: All Saints Day,” has already been filmed. I didn’t quite get what all the hubbub was about, but apparently more blood is on the way.
Oh well. Maybe it’ll at least have some awesome-like tattoos in it.
Welcome to America … the only nation in the world in which a disturbed and disturbing portion of its citizenry could possibly find a way to be infuriated by the fact that its President won the Nobel Peace Prize.
Dear sweet ever-lovin’ fucknuts.
Apparently, it's better to some to have a President who was universally hated vs. one who is universally respected. It’s becoming harder and harder to stay insulated from the tiny-baby-jeezus-worshipping, fraud-committing, pill-popping, common-sense-challenged, hypocritical mouth-breathers that don’t know their ass from their elbow.
I apologize in advance, Ube, for bringing you into this. We’ll do our best.
My laptop was useless, to my dismay For a new hard drive I had to pay To replace it took longer than god After I took it on over to Geek Squad One of them looked like Billy Joe from Green Day
Raleigh is the smartest city of its kind? You’ll pardon me and my disagree whine I really wish it was true But if they had seen what I do Those polled must not take the Beltline
So many flags you have to duck If we catch a pass, it must be luck We tackle like a buncha fags Our special teams are in rags Why does this all remind me of Chuck …
Bobby Bowden is the king of Tallahassee sin He’s gone, but just a matter of when Because he’s now a lame duck To violations, folks say, “What the f%$k!?” Guess it’s only a problem when you don’t win
When a TD disappeared from my score Rage filled me all the way to the core Only to me would this actually take place Unfixed, I would have shot my face If I lost to someone named Mewelde Moore And a bonus one for the road ...
“Californication” plotlines are a bit blurry The dialogue is kinda slurry Hank is still a Mulder-like dork And with Karen off in New York Only two reasons to watch: Eva Amurri
You have probably seen this by now, unless you live in a cave somewhere with Eric Rudolph or Bin Laden.
Someone told me once that the key to life is to get up exactly one more time than you fall down, and I have tried very hard to keep that in mind through the inevitable valleys. But I have never seen it crystallized in quite this way before.
0-3 was the start I did fear My ‘Fins make me reach for a beer Chad’s shoulder hangs by a thread His career is now all but dead But thanks for one magical year
Good news announced with a “Hark!” Half of infants will live to the century mark Good luck to Ube and every baby Living to 100 would be cool, maybe You can take your great-grandkids to the park
First the DVR crapped out all of a sudden Then laptop problems were buddin’ The toilet was destroyed by the fam Costs are forcing me to eat Spam Technology is turning me into a curmudgeon
Ned Ginn and his fetal position I jeer Now get ready for the stat of the year He’s got 134 yards on the fetch But only one after the catch Tough when your top wideout’s a queer Blackmail drove a producer at CBS Targeting Letterman’s workplace transgress It’s true what he did was kinda shitty But he was just a single guy in the City To me, he’s doesn’t have much to confess
Things have been breaking with frightening regularity in the Scoot household, and the latest victim is the trusty laptop. So ... we'll likely be on a short hiatus until the Geek Squad can work their magic.
To the ‘Fins and Bears he brought shame Sonny Bono thinks his ‘stache is lame Now Wannstedt visits the Carter Making me boo even harder I might get ejected two hours before the game
First he bashed Tiger pretty good Especially when no one else would Now Rick Reilly has taken on MJ For being an ass on his HOF day Calling him out like a true columnist should
Can’t tackle worth a lick Made up for it by dropping a pick His nickname is now “The Gerbil” As Barkley would say, “He’s turble” Gibril Wilson, you worthless prick
The Scooters are down in the cellar Should be put down like Ol’ Yeller It was high time to make a trade Before the last hope did fade So I gave Bradshaw for Dustin Keller Had a "Fringe" and "The Office" jones All on Thursday, along with "Flashforward" and "Bones" Even "30 Rock" and "It's Always Sunny in Philly" TV execs are either short-sighted or silly There are other days of the week, network drones
Sometimes when I drive And imbecility does thrive “Through With People” will play And I’ll sigh as I say “How do I keep hope alive?”
Will you help me turn the page On this occasional rage? Will your eyes make me breathe And your dimples make me leave All that in an outgrown stage?
So how will things change In my emotional range? With you on my chest Will I strive for the best? To think of it is really quite strange
Because maturity’s a duty I do it all for Ube Though she may be asleep She hears the promises I’ll keep With a love that shines like a ruby
So help me seize the day In your silent but present way Put an end to this sigh Point your finger to the sky One word you won’t have to say
I believe in you already My emotions I’ll steady This interminable wait The by-product of fate You’ll believe in me too when you’re ready
Your weight I do bear As we take every care To ready your home Where you’ll explore and roam Excitement builds as I prepare
Though the questions do mount As every day we count When the moment arrives And you complete our lives Do I have responsibility in the proper amount?
I’m sure they’re natural fears Though accompanied by tears But the one thing I know That you’ll learn as you go I’ll be your biggest fan across the years
As we finally meet our little pearl And watch your tiny fingers unfurl My belief, it will just cement That I was always meant To be Daddy to a little girl
Kinda funny, kinda clever. Kudos to whoever is in charge of marketing for "Jennifer's Body," because they're taking the lone strength of that flick and marketing the christ out of it.
Oh, that lone strength is Megan Fox. Because she is, like, strong.
Swayze had many a funeral mourner And he left lots of fans forlorn-er As Bodhi he rode the swell In "Roadhouse" he gave ‘em hell But he never put Baby in the corner
Abraham played him like a song What was done to him was just wrong He was a human turnstile Looked overrated by about a mile It’s time to check yourself, Jake Long
His talent level you could never accuse But it was heroin he liked to abuse Jim Carroll fell far from the top But his climb back never did stop As a poet, the streets were his muse
It’s starting again in redundant style So all I can do is just smile Fantasy football with rotten luck Narrow losses make me say “What the f*%#” Can no longer drown my sorrows at the ‘File Two “celebrities” acting crass Supposed to be role models, alas Serena went ape-shit on the attack Kanye looked like he was on crack It’s bad when the Prez calls you a “jackass”
We recently made another pretty awesome jaunt to the Outer Banks for some relaxation, shopping, sightseeing*, beer (well, for one of us) and beach time. I took some snapshots while I was done there, and here are a few of them.**
Unfortunately, the “No Swimming” flags were up on both Saturday and Sunday, thanks to treacherous riptides and rough surf. But the beach was still beautiful.
We also saw this puppy learning how to catch Frisbees, and he was so freaking pumped up about it he couldn’t stop barking even as he was running. I got pretty lucky with this shot.
On Sunday night, we decided to take a short walk on the nearby golf course to catch the sunset on the sound.
There were more than a few cool views of the sound to be had.
We also visited the pier on the sound that Gallo used to love to check out.
We met a kindly older gentleman and his 15.5-year-old dog, Christie. He said that Christie’s brother had passed away not too long ago and that Christie had been sad ever since. She seemed to like the pier, though, and the man thanked us for being nice to his dog and not making him put a leash on her. We assured him that he wouldn’t meet any more dog-friendly folks than us.
The 10th hole on the nearby course is one of a few that runs adjacent to the sound. There’s no telling how many golf balls (and driver heads) rest at the bottom of Roanoke Sound.
All in all, it was quite a “babymoon” (new term to Scoot) vacation to the OBX. Next up … the Ube roller-coaster begins -- that should be quite a trip.
* We took a trip to the Wright Brothers Memorial, which was cool to relive as an adult. I may add a few pix from that visit at a later date. ** If you click on the individual pictures, they get all, like, larger and easier to see and all.
As promised, in an effort to make up for last week’s poor effort, here’s a baker’s … I don’t know … 10?
Giddyup.
A WebSourced reunion’s in store How many tools will walk through that door Will there be talk of wife-swapping and incest? Or maybe a chicken-finger-eating contest? TGRK has killed Marco and four more
An embarrassment as an Oregon Duck Dude wasn't looking when he got stuck Then punched teammates in the mouth and ear LeGarrett Blount got suspended for the year Enjoy working at Food Lion, you stupid fuck
Tiger attacked Ernie Els from the start You don’t question someone else's heart Proof of why he's a douche Protected by Nike's swoosh Stay classy with cliches, you cowardly fart
Not enough NFL stories to soak in Now Shawne Merriman is Tila Tequila pokin’ On the stage comes Roger Goodell Says, “Can anyone blame Shawne? Hell, “It’s about time that bitch got some chokin’”
This summer passed by in a flash Been painting and trying to earn cash So we’re off for the last of the beach treks One more journey down to the OBX Before Ube makes it a family fun bash
Firing coordinators left and right Basically on opening game night New NFL coaches make you scratch your head These three teams might have shit the bed At least the Dolphins have finally seen the light
Baseball is more boring than cricket With the kids, it’s no longer a hit The Bulls no longer have Costner (Kevin) But they have a kid who went 7-for-7 To that I tip my cap and say “Holy shit”
As if it weren’t bad enough to be the ‘Skins Now we’re seeing they have even worse sins They’re suing a grandmother after 50 years Even after she lost her season tickets in tears That shyster Daniel Snyder has as many scruples as wins
Throwing away the last of G-Boy's food Made me one very sad dude Yet Carson still carries a pic of he And seeing her remember G Always enhances Scoot's mood
The latest Republi-douche sensation Needs a permanent Congressional vacation His party he embarrassed with his mouth And he shamed the entire fucking South Just one more reason I weep for this nation Cold-blooded as a stalker He was the original shit-talker On the court M.J. did surpass But to get inducted with class He had to ask State’s own “Skywalker”
There is a joke in here somewhere about how it’s no wonder that NC State couldn’t find the end zone on Thursday night, but still … pretty freaking cool.
I don’t have the time, desire for an immediate headache, patience or creativity to adequately address the inanity of the latest Republitard uproar, so today, I’m just going to point you directly to someone who does -- and did.
I’m going to yield the stage to one of the original “Mad Men,” a Stephen King lookalike, an old man and a tremendous writer, so read what he has to say.
P.S. In case you needed concrete proof that this country is going to hell in a handbasket, this one offers the only statement on the state of things you need: Brainwashed, cult-worshipping conservative mouth-breathers are furious that THE FUCKING PRESIDENT is talking to children in schools, while no one notices or cares that confirmed sociopath MICHAEL FUCKING VICK is making classroom speeches about goddam dog-fighting.
So just to sum up, portions of our society would rather have a convict involuntarily talk to their children about killing Fido than have the President speak to their children about how to achieve success in school.
OK, so with the first half of the draft gone, it’s time for a quick story. Picking just before and after me (in alternating rounds) was my arch-nemesis, a complete douchenberger who has won back-to-back-to-back titles—a begrudgingly amazing feat in a 14-team league, no matter how lucky he is. Beyond that, he’s a fat piece of shit that almost no one likes and who offers ridiculous trades to guys he’s been playing with for like 15 years.
Anyway, most of the dudes in my league (not me) are also in a 12-team league that always drafts the day before our 14-team league draft. A few wives are in that league and it’s more of a shit-talking, fun type of atmosphere … So, anyway, I’m told that the Douchenberger showed up to “watch” their draft the night before ours. Keep in mind, he’s NOT IN THAT FUCKING LEAGUE. And he doesn’t drink. And he takes notes. And he lurks in the corner like he’s one step away from starring on “To Catch a Predator.”
What is he doing? He said he’s charting “tendencies” to inform his “owner profile.” Apparently, this fucking no-life degenerate keeps secret files on all the guys in his league that denote their past drafting trends and transaction moves, etc. As if this weren’t enough, he got up (stone sober) in the middle of our draft and took a 20-minute grumpy, rendering the lone bathroom in the draft room obsolete for roughly four rounds. So here you have a fat, creepy, basement-dwelling tool putting the proverbial icing on the shit cake by trucker-dumping a bathroom in the middle of a fantasy football draft. Dear christ.
Anyway … on to the second round of the draft:
10th round, 134th overall:Kevin Boss, TE, New York Giants To make matters worse, the Trucker-Dumper poached Kellen Winslow just in front of me in this spot. Now, I hate Winslow with a passion, and it’s not like my team is going to live or die on what that pussy does in Tampa Bay, but it was the first time the douchenberger had successfully jumped my pick in the entire draft. Oh well. Boss is a serviceable addition, and Eli Manning is just panicky enough to look for the tight end on almost every passing down. Boss is a good red-zone threat, but I was hoping for a bit more of a dynamic #1 tight end. Alas, much like the unfortunate host’s bathroom, the Trucker-Dumper soiled those plans as well.
11th round, 149th overall:Kyle Orton, QB, Denver No matter how good a fantasy football owner you are, you always have at least one pick where you’re just berating yourself before, during and after the selection. The guy on the other side of me grabbed Eli Manning just before my choice, and I felt like I needed a second signal-caller in this spot, especially since Orton actually represented good value in this area. He’s an accurate QB, if nothing else, and you know Brandon Marshall has to extricate his head from his arse at some point. The Broncos are always going to be able to move the football, but Orton is just not a guy you can get excited about. My queasy feeling about this pick didn’t get better when Orton basically split his finger in two against someone’s helmet later that night. Honestly, though, dudes were taking kickers around this choice, so I couldn’t get too down about grabbing a potentially solid #2 (*pun intended*) signal-caller with this selection.
12th round, 162nd overall:Panthers, D/ST, Carolina Ah, yes … the “keeper round.” In our league, if you take a guy in the 12th round or higher who turns out to be worth “keeping” the following year, you can retain him on your roster for the price of a sixth-round pick. It’s a neat idea in theory, but it almost never works out. For instance, NO ONE protected or kept a guy in this year’s draft. Anyway, as other owners made reaches on people like Brian Robiskie, Michael Crabtree, Mark Sanchez, Jeremy Maclin and Glenn Coffee, I had waited for the dust to settle long enough on the defensive front to have a pretty good option available to me. The crushing groan to my left as I wrote in the Panthers defense and special teams was strong enough to let me know I’d dashed someone else’s plans, which made this pick all the sweeter. Carolina’s not one of the most dominating “D’s” in the league, but they are stout enough to give me respectable points most weeks—and with a lot of intriguing possibilities at wide receiver (especially) and running back (somewhat) as trade bait, I felt confident I could upgrade my D/ST down the road if necessary.
13th round, 177th overall:Mason Crosby, K, Green Bay Here’s another situation where it helped to sit back and watch a “run” on a specific position go its course, see what was left and then make a choice a couple of rounds later. Crosby is a strong-legged kicker for an offense that could put up a shit-ton of points in 2009, making him a good grab in the 13th round as my top kicker. In our league, kickers aren’t quite as valuable as they are in some leagues, but they can certainly make the difference in a couple of weeks during the year, and in a schedule that only lasts 12 games in the regular season, that can make all the difference.
14th round, 190th overall:Tony Scheffler, TE, Denver I was more than a little surprised that Scheffler fell this far; in my mind, it was proof that my strategy was working. Most owners were focusing on other positions on their rosters at this stage of the draft, so I was able to double up at a pretty important position (tight ends are mandatory starts in my league) while other guys were scrounging for fourth wide receivers and backup quarterbacks. Scheffler was a favorite of Cutler’s, and with Orton’s relatively weak arm and propensity for checking down, he could catch a lot of passes for the Broncos this year. His presence here helped me feel a bit better about the choice of Boss a few rounds ago—now I think I have the option to dictate the starter by matchup at this position as the season progresses.
15th round, 205th overall:Bobby Engram, WR, Kansas City Because I spent four of my top six picks on wideouts, I was able to ignore this position through the bulk of the draft. I felt like, in my #5 and #6 wide receiver slots, I had the freedom to roll the dice a bit, with relatively few consequences. I had drafted every position thus far and only needed a backup kicker and backup defense, so I could focus on wide receiver with my next two selections. Engram has always been one of the most underrated receivers in the NFL—the guy just punches in, catches 60 or so balls a year when healthy, moves the chains and doesn’t say a peep. That doesn’t make him exactly fantasy football gold, and he’s also getting up there (36!), but with the new Chiefs offense, he could fill the Wes Welker role for new QB Matt Cassel. The team isn’t exactly in love with #1 target Dwayne Bowe right now, either, and with Tony Gonzalez now in Atlanta, a team that is likely going to be down by three touchdowns in most second halves is going to have to throw to someone dependable. If Engram turns into that guy, he could be good trade fodder as my #5 WR, not bad for a player who isn’t likely to get off my bench.
16th round, 218th overall:Jerheme Urban, WR, Arizona Here’s one of those “really, he’s white?” names that pops up every now and again. He’s had a great preseason for the Cards and Kurt Warner reportedly loves the guy (in a very Christian way). If and when Steve Breaston comes back, Urban will likely be the #4 wideout in Arizona, but having a Cardinals receiver is never a bad thing, and if things break a certain way, he could be a real steal in this spot. He’s my #6 wideout, after all, so I had the luxury of taking a longshot, high-reward dude with this selection. Also, I have always wanted a “Jerheme” on my team.
17th round, 233rd overall:Dan Carpenter, K, Miami He’s a kicker. I needed a kicker. He’s a Dolphin. I needed a token Dolphin. What more do you want me to say here?
18th round, 246th overall:49ers, D/ST, San Francisco Um. They play a weak schedule? Former Pack stars Manny Lawson and Marcus Hudson play for them? Coach Mike Singletary might be the best linebacker on the squad? Rules mandate that I have to have a second defense, and their bye week was different from Carolina’s and they were one of like five defenses left, so after six beers or so, that made them the right fit for the last choice of a draft. If necessary, I can always drop and add defenses throughout the year based on matchup, so I don’t think it’s going to be bite me too bad.
*whew* That’s a lot of words, a lot of bad analogies and a lot of analysis for a long draft about a team that could feature 25% attrition over the course of the year. But at least it’s over—and football is here.
And on the bright side, maybe the bathroom doesn’t stink anymore.
Michigan’s been cheating without reprise Does anyone think it’s a surprise? Knew it wouldn’t end well with this hillbilly You reap what you sow when you’re silly The Wolverines fall while Dick Rod cries
Shocking—Butt Favre with a dirty play? But he really loves the game, so it’s OK “He’s like a little kid out there” He wears Peter King’s underwear The suspension should come down any day
Wilson looked like he was underwater Our receivers had hands of butter The refs were from Foot Locker And Spurrier’s off his rocker But it was a Wolfpack choke—yes, another
This week got the best of me Lost some Scooter creativity So I’m going to leave you with four And come back next week with a roar You’re lucky you didn’t just get three
It’s Thursday, it’s 12:58, it’s nine miles to Carter-Finley Stadium, we’ve got three-quarters of a tank of gas, eight beers, two more hours of work, it’s light outside and we’re wearing red.
Yup. It’s finally football time again. So I threw some beers, chips, hoagie, laptop, printouts and mag into a bag and rolled my arse to my 14-team fantasy football league draft. Here’s what happened:
1st Round, #7 overall:Stephen Jackson, RB, St. Louis Somewhat surprisingly, DeAngelo Williams went #3 overall (well, not that surprisingly, I guess, when you factor in the Panthers homer pick) and LT went #6, leaving me a choice between Jackson, Frank Gore and Chris Johnson. I had Gore last year and I see the 49ers going to more of a running back-by-committee (RBBC) approach, and I just have a bad feeling about Johnson this year. Lendale White is still there, Tennessee seems to have a ton of backs and Johnson seems to have allowed his rookie success to go to his head (*fill in EZU joke here*). When healthy (and yes, that is key), S-Jax is one of the most dynamic backs in the league, and I see him getting a LOT of touches this year (*don’t fill in Michael Jackson joke here*).
2nd, round, #22 overall:Steve Smith, WR, Carolina I was surprised that five receivers went off the board before Smith, so even though I had him last year (I usually don’t like to have guys on back-to-back teams), I couldn’t pass him up in this spot. In a year where the sure-thing wideouts just aren’t to be found, I knew one wouldn’t be around when I picked in the third. He’s got a dinged shoulder, but there isn’t a tougher player in the league (ask the many teammates he’s beaten up), and I have to think that Jake Delhomme has one more solid season left in him.
3rd round, #35 overall:Marques Colston, WR, New Orleans Colston was a guy I had pegged as someone I wanted on my team this year, somehow, someway. Luckily for me, there were some reaches in this round (Donovan McNabb and Vincent Jackson), and even though I was hoping Ronnie Brown would slide to me, when he was snapped up two picks before mine, I wasted no time grabbing Colston. He’s a big red-zone target who was hurt much of last year, but I’m predicting he’ll come back with a vengeance in Drew Brees’s pass-happy offense.
4th round, #50 overall:Roy E. Williams, WR, Dallas Admittedly, this was the first of my boom-or-bust selections. It was definitely one of those moments where you walk up to the chalkboard already shaking your head before you commit to the player’s name in Magic Marker. There were some iffy, question-mark-riddled RBs out there (Larry Johnson, Joseph Addai, Willie Parker) and I had considered Wes Welker and Anquan Boldin, but those are both #2 wideouts. And hell, I figured someone besides Jason Witten is going to have to catch Tony Romo’s passes, and word was that Williams was “getting it” before he had a minor ankle injury. This is the year for Roy; does the E. stand for “erratic” or “exceptional”? He’s either going to bust loose and prove to everyone that he’s worth what the Cowboys gave up for him, or he’s going to fade into oblivion. Sadly, my team could be dangling on that same precipice thanks to this choice.
5th round, #63 overall:Lendale White, RB, Tennessee The guy in front of me snaked Derrick Ward of the Bucs from underneath me, which left me a little flummoxed (I’m rarely flummoxed). I mentioned how I feel about Chris Johnson and the Titans this year, and with White’s famed no-tequila diet, I think he can get some things done this year. I certainly wasn’t thrilled with this pick, but I needed a second running back pretty bad and the remaining quarterbacks were all on the same general level in my eyes. The remaining “#1s” at RB were guys like Cedric Benson, Jamal Lewis and Julius Jones. I’m not even going to get into the latter two, but you’ll forgive me if I’m going to ask Cedric Benson to do it again while avoiding any water-related DUIs before I add him to The Scooters. The down side, of course, is I’ve now got back-to-back boom-or-bust choices in Williams and White, so a lot could be riding on whether they go boom (like the dynamite) or bust (like the Christine Hendricks).
6th round, 78th overall:Hines Ward, WR, Pittsburgh This was a selection that made my overall feelings about my draft spike upwards. I don’t think I’ve ever had Ward on any of my teams, strangely enough, but he’s the old standby. I think folks are a bit too quick on the Santonio Holmes trigger this year; when Roethlisberger is in trouble, he looks for #86 first, second and last. Ward is coming off a very strong year and I think Holmes actually opens up a lot of underneath zones for Ward, who is good enough after the catch to make him a TD option in the red zone. For my #4 receiver in a league where I can start one RB and four WRs if I want, Ward still being here was too good to pass up.
7th round, 93th overall:Jay Cutler, QB, Chicago Let the record show that I think this dude’s a prick. Luckily, in my league you don’t get points deducted for douchebaggery (though I’ve been pushing for a rules change for years), and in my mind Cutler was far and away the best remaining signal-caller. There are valid points to be made that he doesn’t have any established receivers to throw to, but he’s one of those guys where he makes the wideout instead of the other way around. A tremendous quarterback makes an average wide receiver look like a superstar, and the hope is that Cutler spreads it around enough to Greg Olsen, Devin Hester, Earl Bennett, Desmond Clark and Matt Forte that a couple will truly emerge. Cutler’s going to put up numbers and he’s also a threat to pick up some bonus points with his legs, so I was relatively happy that I was able to wait until the seventh round to land my top QB and have it be a guy of Cutler’s abilities.
8th round, 106th overall:Ahmad Bradshaw, RB, New York Giants With Derrick Ward gone to Tampa and Brandon Jacobs seemingly always nursing one injury or another, I think Bradshaw can get some things done in ’09. The G-Men have one of the best offensive lines in the game, and I have a strong feeling that Bradshaw is going to get important touches on the ground and in the air this season. He’s an ideal #3 back in that you can start him in a pinch if necessary and he’s also solid trade bait should an injury to Jacobs make him the top dog in the Meadowlands. With other owners grabbing tight ends and defenses left and right in this area, I liked Bradshaw a lot to help bolster a relatively shaky running back corps to date.
9th round, 121st overall:Fred Taylor, RB, New England Yes, he still has the nickname of “Fragile” even though he’s been pretty injury-free over the past several seasons. Yes, New England rotates as many running backs as Kate Hudson does leading men. Yes, Freddy is getting up there in age. But hell … somebody’s gotta be the #1 for the Patsies, and hasn’t the “Homeless Hoody” made a living by recycling past-their-prime former stars and helping them regain past glory? It was a nice spot to grab a #4 running back with big upside, especially since the top-tier tight ends were long gone and there was no pressing need on my part to grab a #2 QB or a #5 wideout. If the Cheatriots become the point-scoring machine they were prior to Tom Brady’s injury, this could turn into quite a steal for The Scooters.
If you’re into predictable physical humor, fairly obvious jokes and movies where a fat slob with a Jew-puff winds up bagging a hot chick that he’s not remotely in the same league as, then “Zack and Miri Make a Porno” is the flick for you. If you’re not … well … you shouldn’t have accidentally got it in the mail in the first place.
In my opinion, Seth Rogan jumped the shark about four movies ago, but either someone neglected to tell him or my expectations for comedy are grossly out of whack. The expected, predictable crowd of hangers-on who almost always seem to accompany Rogan is present, and it appears that Elizabeth Banks is intent on continuing her career descent. She was once a hot almost-leading-lady type, but for whatever reason, she takes roles where she tries to be funny rather than sexy.
Anyway, this was as big a waste of time as anticipated, despite a few funny moments. Judging by the last few flicks that have appeared in the mailbox, I’m starting to think NetFlix is the devil’s work. I’m half-expecting “Yentl” to come shortly, at which point the Jew-puff will transfer from Rogan to Babs Streisand. And I’ll throw up a little bit in my mouth while weeping.
