2007>2006: A Blog in Review

As the year of our lord two-thousand and seven comes to a close, I'm reminded of the many splendors I've shared with you these past 365 days. Won't you take a stroll with me, down memory lane?

January brought us Triple H's quadriceps tear and the short lived RAWnaissance. I started getting hyped up for 28 Weeks Later, which ultimately lived up to my expectations for the most part. Keith debuted an excellent new character that fizzled out about as quickly as the aforementioned RAWnaissance, but I'll always remember Keith Jackson: Problem Drinker fondly. The band ~! came into being, shortly before it ceased to be. Funky D took Funkdefy to its new home at the Rumba Cafe, and Wrestling Society X teased me with its short-lived glory.

February was a month of poor box office predictions by Lee, my devotion to my new i-Pod growing deeper, and Amy Smart having loud sex outdoors. It was a good 28 days.

March was melancholy. Ben's dog died, I missed my own dog, and probably watched that rascal Eddie on Frasier to cheer myself up.

April and May theoretically occurred, so there's no blogidence to corroborate that. June was much the same, though there was just enough activity to make some question my sexuality, I'm sure.

July was the great relaunch, and the beginning of the Jenna era. It was a weird time. Chris Benoit had just gone (or finished going) completely out of his mind, Patton Oswalt had a new album out, and the second broccasion swept Ruby Tuesday like a wildfire. ~! went out on a good note (PUN INTENDED), I became obsessed with that Islands song, and Scott Baio got his own reality show. The best picture ever happened, Jon Lovitz kicked Andy Dick's ass, I got all philosophical about TNA just before I stopped caring about them all together, and the Heroes of History got REALLY, REALLY GOOD. Ring of Honor debuted on pay per view, Andrew finished watching the 3rd season of The Office, and those girls of Gilmore got a sexy, new box set. I missed Lee's commenting, arrived way too late at the party to realize how great the UMCs are, and said goodbye to Chops and Mandy. Scott Patterson turned out to be a Clipper, John Krasinski got a chance at being a leading man, and DJ OPS moved about half a block. Josh got in on The Office fun after some gentle prodding, Harry Potter gave us a really long trailer, and Fire Pro Wrestling Returns was announced for a U.S. release.

August got off to a rollicking start as I saw Blades of Glory, deepening my affection for Jenna. Cody threatened to buy an SUV, I read the great Moneyball, and I started a doomed love affair with a Japanese professional wrestler. Funky D played out with the Dolby Fuckers, but he's not biased. The Office overtook Farscape as my favorite television show of all time, we all gave big props to the Space Monster for bringing the blog out of its doldrums, I met Scotty, and Adam Baldwin was underutilized. Office fan art scared even me, the first major blog streak ended at 33, I traveled to Kentucky, and I hated David Cross. Jenna starred in a depressing music video that ended up being sort of prescient, the shit hit the fan for WWE, and I really wanted a Jim Loves Pam shirt.

September reminds me of one thing more than any other: hatred of the Emmys. There were other highlights as well, though. The Office returned for it's fourth season, the Big Ten Network made life difficult for Buckeye fans all over Columbus, bears beat Battlestar Galactica, and Jenna and James SPLIT while the national media were a bunch of dicks about it. Paz Vega retroactively became the second hottest woman on the planet, Sid was not Vince McMahon's illegitimate son, Hulk Hogan used the power of Hulkamania to fell the World Trade Center, and we marched for Daymon. I got mad at Hunter for one reason or another, Aja should have directed the other Hills Have Eyes movie, and Joan Rivers said something catty about my Jenna. The blog nation turned heel, the Dixie Chicks were fantastic, Studio 35 failed at life, and Road Warrior Animal cut a promo on the Northwestern football team, and possibly the entire state of Illinois. I hated Tom Batiuk for the first of many times, Ken Burns brought the awesome, Alan Greenspan was a coward, and Joey Fatone may have nailed Britney. My sister angered the Lord, I began to feel the dark sway of the Browns backers pulling me in, and a fly fell in my beer.

October was quite the deal. I rediscovered my crush on Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the character, not the show), Sharon Jones' new album was really good, Lisa died, Ed Helms tried to rack jack me, and Pushing Daisies was delightful. Bennigan's disappointed, Gossip Girl provided just the right touch of trash for my Wednesday nights, and my grandfather turned 80 without anyone choking him. Andrew Dan-Jumbo couldn't possibly be straight, Andrew and Jason kicked me out of their tree house, and Kristal Marshall was somehow released. Krasinski turned 28 and mugged, there was a most rocksome Halloween party thrown down the street, and I dabbled in SKROBBLING. I won Halloween Movie Marathon for the second straight year, Andrew became obsessed about why I can't get over Montreal, and I got REALLY HIGH to write the final blog entry of the month.

November sucked. Dave kept saying "Olivia One", Kate Winslet couldn't win an Oscar to save her life, not to mention my lack of a PBR hat. COTA redesigned their site, I couldn't watch Uno, Due, Tre, Stalla! in this country, and the writers went on strike. Soulja Boy Tell 'Em continued to ruin my life, nobody but me and Adam appreciated Crispin Glover properly, and Lucio Fulci was praised way too much for my tastes. Eddy and ODB were still dead, the new Office PC game sucked large, and nobody asked for Zamfir to return. Columbus Alive was fit for a bird cage, Abe lived too far away to watch The Office in a timely manner, and Mark Valley didn't have a new show. Jenna and Buffy posed for a photo together and melted my brain, WHERE WAS WIGS' SOLO JOINT?!, and a leprechaun ran through a brick wall.

December was actually a nice way to close out the year, all things considered. The Big Doe Rehab dropped, the Bengals rallied to finish 7-9, Whirry defied death itself, and the Luchagors were frigging awesome. Kenta Kobashi returned after being almost as impressive as Whirry in trumping cancer, I ROFFLED @ Powerglove (still sorry about that, Paul), and Dreamcast haters were SHOOK. Earthbound manga was uncovered, I dusted off the Alex Wright dance to Funky D's dismay and the ladies' delight, and Uncle Adam gave me something to keep track of the days with. Mario Mario came out of the closet while Luigi Mario banged Princess Peach. I became a Widget maniac, the same people who dissed my Dreamcast celebrated the inferior sequel to Tecmo Super Bowl, and Billy Dee Williams was better than Carl Weathers. Custom Legos were marveled at, Krasinski was a Michael Hayes fan, Greg Oden became a video game cover boy, and strategy football came to your home console! The Bengals beat the Browns, which may not have been such a good thing in retrospect, and I got ALL OF BUFFY. The TV show that is. On DVD. My So What? Wednesdays streak continued unabated, Wild Zero was "EH", and finally, to close out the month of giving, of compassion, of friendship, Tony Dungy was a huge D-bag.

Now... wasn't that fun? I leave you with this, my most favorite picture of all time, making its third appearance here on Bride of the Blog That Wouldn't Die Meets the Space Monster. Oh, and be careful tonight, huh?


You're welcome. Have a Happy New Year.

Tony Dungy: Known Hater

Tony Dungy is selfish. Another brotha has a chance to take his team to the playoffs and he's like, "Oh, Peyton Manning can sit on the bench. Oh, Joseph Addai can take it easy. Oh, let's not aggravate any boo-boos Anthony Gonzalez or Marvin Harrison might have." Tony Dungy, you're not the man I thought you were. Now Jeff Fisher's in the playoffs. Is that what you wanted? Do you know what that makes you? A RACE TRAITOR. Just like Atticus Finch. And you know what happened to Atticus? He got Tom Robinson convicted. DO YOU WANT THAT TO HAPPEN TO PEYTON!?

It was a great season to have the Cleveland Browns as your second favorite team, for sure. 10-6 is nothing to sneeze at. With the Bengals coming back strong in 2008, and the Steelers always dangerous, the AFC North looks like the place to be next season. I can't wait!

86 Reasons the Dreamcast is Better than a TurboGrafx-16

The Browns took care of some completely unnecessary business earlier this afternoon, relying on their defense for once to shut down the 49ers. The game meant nothing for getting them into the playoffs, but it's never bad to have a 10 win season. Traitorous Dublin native Brady Quinn took his first snaps as a pro quarterback, and didn't screw anything up too badly. Jamal Lewis continued to prove why he deserves a two year contract after this season ends. Someone at Ruby's got really hammered. I won't sully his or her reputation here because lord knows I've been there, but they were in rare form to be certain.

I actually had to defend the honor of the Sega Dreamcast against various rapscallions today. In these enlightened times, I find it shocking that there is still anyone who denies the greatness of this console. YOU'RE ALL SHOOK.


Yes. Yes you were.

Depending on what time I get out of Ruby's (that's right, I'm goin' back!), I may post an update later tonight. This is the time to become a Colts fan if you're not already. All they've gotta do is beat the Titans and the Browns are in the post-season. COME ONNNNNNNNNNNNNN, SORGI! You can do it, pal!


Oh no.

Anyway, I'm sure he'll be coached up real good by Mr. TD himself.



Until tonight (or early tomorrow), this has been your sorta Browns fan update!


KEEP THE SEX TALK AWAY FROM HER, DREW!

This is not a kitschy blog

For the record, I've got Machida staying unbeaten via boring decision (and the power of Inoki), Wanderlei knocking out Chuck, and Hughes avenging last November's loss to The Frog by rear naked choke.

With that out of the way, I want to mention that I saw Shoot 'Em Up today, and I don't really know what to make of it. It was entertaining certainly, but it was also the most over the top action film I've ever seen, infused with dialogue cheesy enough to make the Razzie panel wince. On the other hand, it seemed one-hundred percent aware of itself. I can't decide if that makes me like it more or less. If you try too hard to become kitsch, are you really kitsch? I guess kitsch is made for people who try too hard though, so maybe it's a perfect fit.


Remember when I could complain about The Office losing awards? That was way more fun that complaining about how there's just not any Office at all any more.

Musing in the Morning

Bret Hart should have called his fans Hittites.

Jason saw the first two episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and wants to keep watching it. I consider that to be the test, really. If you can watch any first-season Buffy and want to continue, you're hooked. I like the first season now, but I readily admit that if I had started watching the show from the beginning, there's very little chance I'd be writing anything about it now. It improved by leaps and bounds from first to second season.

Turns out that Jerry Glanville's Pigskin Footbrawl game Fern was talking about a few posts ago is completely awesome. I had it on a Dreamcast disc and didn't even know it.



Despite its awesomeness, I have absolutely no idea why an NFL coach endorsed it. But picking up weapons and hacking other players to death is friggin' great. It's not quite as fun as Mutant League Football, but as far as hilarious 16 bit era games go, it ranks right up there with the likes of Dynamite Headdy and McDonald's Treasureland Adventure.

Add "ballin' on a budget" to the list of things I started saying that Jason then completely ruined for me.

Somehow, The Alliance was voted as only the third best Season One episode of The Office. This is a shenanigan. I am completely outraged by this nonsense. No other episode that season featured cardboard box related espionage. You've really done it this time, OfficeTally.com!

The more I watch back that first season of 30 Rock, the less enraged I am by its Emmy win in September. I was pretty pissed off that night, owing largely to four hours of recap and almost no love for The Office's third season. I still think it's ridiculous, and that the better show was snubbed. But 30 Rock is pretty fantastic.

I just wanted to get something up and posted before I headed to work. This may end up being DOUBLE POST DAY. In fact, to make sure of it, I'm not going to affix a Jenna Fischer picture to this entry, which should force the issue rather nicely. THE ISSUE WILL BE FORCED!

Driveby

I haven't been able to get to what I was trying to do today blog-wise, so I'll have to delay it for now. Hopefully I'll get it going for Friday, and I still need to pick a day to double post.

I broke my word about not going to Bourbon Street last night, so FOUR IN A ROW for this guy. Ill Poetic is really good at being a rapper.

Zero whatever was not really good at being a zombie movie, though the TRANNY SURPRISE~!was sweet. Wild Zero! That's the one. I just read where some dork called it the 10th best zombie movie ever, but he also had a Fulci movie on his list, so right there, whatever.

Does anybody want to sell me their PS2? My nearly unplayed Fire Pro is burning a hole in my VERY SOUL. If I don't have a platform to play it on soon, my condition could be


AAAAAH!

Did you hear the rumor that Jenna Fischer and James Gunn are getting back together? No? Well, don't worry. They're not. And we can still throw chairs at Ruby's.


EPIC FAILURE.

THE HAUL. I am materialistic (green)

Something special tomorrow, so be prepared to read it, feel sad, and then awkwardly not comment. Also, as requested by Lee, thoughts on Walk Hard are also on their way, just not today.

Because today, it's all about... THE HAUL.

I like things. Things to watch, play with, read, attend, wear, anything really. So know that upfront.

This Christmas, I racked in a Hall and Oates concert, no less than TWO ironic tee-shirts (Mr. Rogers and S-Mart), two un-ironic tee-shirts (Wolverine and THE UNDERTAKER), a video game for a console I don't own (Fire Pro Wrestling Returns for the Playstation 2), the first season of 30 Rock, the second season of Extras, the entire run of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a Nick Swardson CD (how did a cat so accurately pinpoint my comedic leanings? You're a wonderful gift giver, Jonathan), a ballin' pair of slip on winter boots, and last but certainly not least, two The Office clicky top pens with Dwight Schrute quotations coming up on each successive click! "The Schrutes produce very thirsty babies." Indeed they do, Dwight. Now quit your yammering and help me write some thank you cards!


Dear Jenna, thanks for saving my blog this past July. It's been a heck of a six months for us all here in my little corner of the blogosphere.

Merry Christmas, movie house!

I just woke up from a Christmas Eve power nap, and it's almost time to run the yearly gauntlet of family and friends that is the Napier holiday party. Wish me luck, and I'll be back tomorrow with THE HAUL.


Your movie may have bombed, but you're still THE bomb.

Every day is a holiday, another motherfuckin' dolla day!

Still hectic on the non-Romano side of the family, but I wanted to note that today is BENGALS-BROWNS II: THE RECKONING. Or possibly... WRECKONING. Carson Palmer is gonna be hittin' Chad Johnson like he's Rodney King, but with footballs instead of night sticks. Deltha "Dawn" O'Neal has got Derek Anderson on lock, and he'll come away from this one with no less than eight interceptions. DA's gonna be headed to Picayune in exchange for a case of Rap Pack trading cards when all's said and done. Kellen Winslow isn't gonna "Win" at all this afternoon, as the Soulja Boy's gonna find the kryptonite to his Superman in the form of the stifling Bengals defense. Tell 'em! The Cats are gonna whip the Browns so badly that not only are their mamas gonna feel it, the league's going to review the tape and conclude that the teams should trade records. Ya heard? Y'all musta forgot! And then the Bengals whooped them Browns! Who 'dey? 'Dey the motherfucking Cincinnati Bengals, and they ain't dead. They've just been asleep. NOW YOU'RE PLAYING WITH FIRE, BITCHES.

That was my first and last attempt at doing a Davekwon blog entry.

Peace and love, chillens.


I'd like a piece of her love? YES!

Thanks, Paul!

Family emergencies and other things taking up my day have resulted in this entry. The streak lives, though I am not proud!

And as noted, thanks to Paul for providing the JPotD!


Paulin'!

Ruminations of a Rider

Relying on COTA often complicates my life, giving me less freedom to get around than if I were capable of doing the driving thing without risking the lives of schoolchildren all around central Ohio. On the other hand, I feel that by riding the bus so much these past six years I've gained a lot of perspective on my own life by looking at what others struggle with. I have it pretty good, really. Yeah, I pass out more often than I'd like to lately, but I generally feel healthy, school is good, and I have great friends. What about the crack addict who somehow scraped together the dollar and fifty cents required to ride the bus this morning but got on the wrong route? What's so bad about my life compared to that?

On a happier note, I also got to witness a theological debate this morning. Two earnestly insane people sitting half the bus away from one another started arguing over who it was better to pray to: God or the Wizard of Oz. it takes all kinds.

I get a weird thrill out of seeing normal people cornered on the bus by sub-normals. Part of me wants to throw them a life preserver, but then another, more vengeful part of me recalls the times when I myself have been cornered by sub-normals and not been rescued. I really don't need to answer sports trivia questions for half an hour provided by a guy with a plate in his head. Nope, sure don't. But where were my fellow riders when I gave an indicative roll of the eyes after provoking my own personal game show host to shout "Motherfucker!" for the fourth time by correctly answering a question regarding John Cooper? He thought he had me stumped, apparently.

A strategy game set in the world of FOOTBALL is forthcoming for the X-Box 360. That's right, BLOOD BOWL is going digital. Video game geniuses have somehow managed to cross-breed something geeky with something not geeky, and somehow come out with a sum more geeky than either of the original parts! And it's not just a football strategy game. It's a football strategy game with spells and mythical creatures and stuff! It's like Mutant League Football to the nth degree, only with a turn-based option, which actually sort of makes it like a fully realized Blitz Ball from FFX. I imagine Lee could be up on this at some point. Somewhere, Andrew is having flashbacks.


BLURN!

This just popped into my head for some reason, but other than "You look like Babe Ruth's gay brother... Gaybe Ruth", I think the best line in Knocked Up is Martin Starr's stoner girlfriend remarking to a pregnant Katherine Heigl: "You must be angry at the baby whenever it steals your food, huh? 'Ohh that's mine, not yours.' But, you know, because you're family you gotta share." I love that movie.

Speaking of Judd Apatow related ventures, the Napier Family Christmas Day Cinematic Treat for 2007, Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story is not getting such great reviews locally. Perhaps the BACKLASH truly has begun. I really miss Craig Robinson being on my television screen every week. It has an 80% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes, however, and my own personal movie deity, the jawless Roger Ebert, gave it *** out of ****.

Wrestling matches are generally rated on a five-star scale by those that think it's important to rate wrestling matches. Neat story about that. While the rating system was popularized by Dave Meltzer with his Wrestling Observer Newsletter, it was actually Jim Cornette and another man named Norm Dooley who dreamed it up. They started out with a four-star scale back in the '70s, but then saw a series of Terry Funky-Jerry Lawler matches that blew their original system to smithereens, thus the addition of a fifth star. That's been nearly thirty years ago, and with wrestling changing as much as it has, it's possible that the scale needs to be expanded once more. Of course, I don't rate matches that way, so I don't really care. Anyway, that's the back story. Ta-da!

I was originally going to allow written reviews by people who have actually played both games help me decide which college hoops game to buy this year. But then I saw that Greg Oden is on the cover of one, while Kevin Durant's wack visage haunts the other. Easiest decision I've ever made. Although... I should probably get LAST YEAR's game so I can actually play as Oden and Mike Conley. Tough decisions. I guess I could just buy an NBA game, because I don't think he has a season ending injury in video game land.

Anyway, it's been real. See you tomorrow!


SAY IT AIN'T SO.

Do Das Wunderkind!

There were just two of us in that theater.

This could be the beginning of a very sexy story, but sadly the other person was Dave, and he didn't let me get very far.


We'll see, Williams. WE'LL SEE.

The zombie movie was cool though. Despite Dave's ridiculous insistence that Milla Jovovich is a "1", he was also able to enjoy it.

The main event of the evening, however, was the celebration of Andrew's life at Bourbon Street. Between the Free Cigarette Mafia coming through (better late than never), and getting to see JUAN~!, it was a heck of a three and a half hours. I've now been to three straight So What? Wednesdays, and I think it's time to take a break until the new year. No James Brown night for me on the 26th.

As for the birthday boy, he was well and truly tanked by the time I got out of there, which is just as it should be. He even hit me a few times. Granted, I was dancing in an incredibly awesome fashion and showing him up on his special day.

You see... I was doing the Alex Wright dance.


"Hey, man!"

Technically, this dance should be called "Das Wunderkind", but then I'd have to say "I was doing Das Wunderkind" and that has weird implications. Anyway, I did the excellent Alex Wright snapping dance for about half an hour, to such hits as Da Dip by Freak Nasty, and Bell Biv Devoe's seminal jam, Poison. Apparently, someone came up to Dave and said, "I think he's doing the climbing the wall move too much." YOU DON'T SNAP YOUR FINGERS WHEN YOU CLIMB A WALL. I should have given him a German suplex and Das Wunderkinded over his prone, quivering body. I could probably learn how to better do both right here.



Anyway, all in all, fun night.

I watched WWE's World Class Championship Wrestling DVD, and it was awesome. The Von Erich family is a complete car wreck, but there was a lot of great footage. And in that spirit, here's John Krasinski wearing a Fabulous Freebirds shirt.


Win.

I haven't really decided what I"m going to do as far as blogging frequency in 2008. I was thinking every other day, because that would allow me to top this year's total as long as I could maintain the pace. I've actually kind of enjoyed this BLOGAPALOOZA DEATH MARCH though, so I may have to revisit that at some point in '08 just to see how long I can go. Today marks 30 consecutive days of content, which will put record breaking post 34 on the 24th. It's a Christmas Eve miracle!


Much like that smile. Krasinski's, that is. Jenna's is good, but come on now. He's adorable.

Heroes

Davekwon wins the First Annual NapDaddy December 19th Hero of the Day Award for Excellence in Excellence! That's right, the man, the myth, the mogwai threw together an excellent mini-marathon of cherished Christmas classics last night. These included but were not limited to... Home Alone, Silent Night, Deadly Night, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and of course, the movie that left Lee with the least questions of any in the history of celluloid... Santa's Slay! For those that didn't make it, sorry 'bout your damn luck as James Storm might say.

Second place in the First Annual NapDaddy December 19th Hero of the Day Award for Excellence in Excellence goes to Funky D, because it's his birthday. Congratulations on living! You earned it!


True ballers choose life!

We're convening for So What? Wednesday at Bourbon Street at around 10:30 to celebrate this great man's 28 years of being so fresh and so clean, so come on down.

Before I forget, cheers to Uncle Adam for taking THIRD PLACE in the First Annual NapDaddy December 19th Hero of the Day Award for Excellence in Excellence. He places so highly because of his outstanding resolve to watch the Browns game last weekend, even though he believes doing so hurts the team. Way to throw down on superstition, UA!


"Yeah!"

My fffffffffffffffffff key is stuck.

ffffffffffffffffffffffffffff Wack.

Anyway, I'm going to see RESIDENT EVIL: EXTINCTION at the Carriage Place this afternoon with Davekwon. I have faith, you see, that I will like this movie as well as I liked the first chapter of the trilogy. My theory about the second movie, which I hated, is that I made a mistake in seeing it right after Shaun of the Dead. And I mean RIGHT AFTER, as we (myself, Ashley, Andrew, and I believe Lee) made a double feature of it that night. I don't believe strongly enough in this theory to actually subject myself to seeing Resident Evil: Apocalypse again, but still, it's possible that I was just riding a zombie high after Shaun and it couldn't live up.


Hell yes.

Dave bought Jonathan a collar and tie for Christmas. Very presidential. He and Andrew's cat by proximity, Sweet Lou, need to hang out.

Time to go. The mind needs to wrap around the foot. And the zombie movie and drinking ahead.


She's hot. I'm in a hurry, so you get an obvious caption.

A VERY IMPORTANT MATTER

As I was drifting off to sleep last night, I began to think about what I may want to blog about today. Often these 3 am thoughts are long forgotten by the time I wake up, despite my constant, misguided belief that "I don't need to get out of my warm bed to write it down. This time I'll remember." It's not like this was the world's greatest topic, but for whatever reason, I finally remembered one. First broached at Broin' Down V: OctoBROfest, I hope to put to rest, once and for all, the question of who the better man is between Billy Dee Williams and Carl Weathers.

While I strongly believe that both men would be fine Ohio governors, a choice must be made, and who better to make it than me, a 24-year old white geek with an affinity for Lando Calrissian and Apollo Creed?

If your answer to that question was "Anybody else", you're in the wrong place.

Now, to start, Lando Calrissian and Apollo Creed are both completely awesome and may actually cancel one another out. So we'll have to go a little bit deeper for this one I'm afraid.

Billy Dee played Harvey Dent in the original Batman film (well, not technically the original, but close enough).


"Holy Special Edition" indeed, Burt Ward.

Even though he was utterly screwed out of reprising the role for Batman Forever, and now once again left out in the cold by that pretty boy Aaron Eckhart, Billy Dee is the real District Attorney of Gotham City.

Weathers portrayed Major Dillon in Predator, which is kind of like having been in a Batman movie because the Governator was Mr. Freeze. All the same, I have to give the nod to Billy Dee in the category of BATMAN.

Billy Dee Williams played Gale Sayers in Brian's Song, which is a rad movie about interracial friendships before interracial friendships were cool.

Carl Weathers played linebacker for the Oakland Raiders. In the category of FOOTBALL, Mr. Weathers edges out his adversary.

Billy Dee Williams was a pitchman for Colt 45. Carl Weathers is currently shilling Old Spice. Where OFFENSIVE, STEREOTYPICAL PRODUCT WHORING is concerned, Mr. Williams has it all over the guy. Though I must say, I OBJECT to the notion that he's perpetuating any kind of negative stereotype.


Thanks, your honor.

Just one category remaining and Carl needs this one to stay in the game. Fortunately for him, it's AS HIMSELF EXCELLENCE IN SITCOMS.

While Billy Dee Williams has had excellent cameos playing himself on Scrubs and Martin~!, Carl Weathers got himself a recurring role on Arrested Development, playing himself as an acting coach. And he KNOWS HOW TO MAKE STEW, as my friend Rick Robinson will attest to.



Carl Weathers takes the category in a landslide!

This is tough. I wish there were a fifth, deciding category on which to render a decision. Sadly, there is not. I'll need a minute to figure this out.

MY FINAL DECISION after these words from Colt 45!


Colt 45: Bringing people together since yesterday

Thanks for your patience. I've figured it out. Based entirely on the fact that Billy Dee Williams plays Carl Weathers' boss in a made for TV movie that I absolutely have to see, here is your winner...

LANDO CALRISSIAN!


~!~!~!~!

Thank God that's settled. It's been eating at me for months.


A woman SMOOTH enough for Billy Dee himself.

End in sight

Rich Rodriguez isn't as bad as Nick Saban or Bobby Petrino, so don't even front.

I'm baking a frozen pizza. Yay me.


SPOILER ALERT: She dies. Don't buy this piece of shit.

I'm almost finished with Earthbound. That makes me sad. What will I play when I'm finished with that? I DON'T KNOW.

I need DJ Bazooka Joe's Silver Album mash up of Jay-Z and RJD2.

I need to find women with less, or preferably no, children.

I need to watch Jenna on the Regis show tomorrow morning. Wooo!

I need to get some dinner. Outtie 5k.


I wonder what she has to promote?

This entry brought to you by the Nintendo Fun Club

Sometimes people try to tell you things that just aren't true. Many times the lies are harmless, such as "No honey, you're not fat", or the moon landing. Other times however, lies can be very dangerous. Take something that happened today at Ruby's for instance. A supposed friend, clearly at times a drunken buffoon, swore up and down that I had, the previous Sunday, stated for all the world to hear, "I bleed orange and brown!" This is ridiculous, and the orange and black attack from Cincinnati will hold down their home field and trounce my second favorite team on Christmas Eve Eve (not a typo). The certainty of a Bengals win isn't the point, though. The point is that this lie makes me seem like a traitor, and while I don't have any experience with being a sports traitor, I'm of the understanding that it holds the same penalties as treason at a federal level. Something to do with being forced to read Ann Coulter books and third gender porn magazines.


Look out for "her" TRANNY SURPRISE~!

Even worse than the very real possibility of having to endure How to Talk to a Liberal: (If You Must) is some other straight up bullshit I heard at the game today. Somebody was trying to sell actual living, breathing human beings on Super Tecmo Bowl being in any way competitive with Tecmo Super Bowl.

As Chavo Guerrero Senior once said in a great moment, "THIS IS A SHENANIGAN!" I am not filled with mirth and joy over this particular shenanigan, however. This is the type of shenanigan that really sticks in my craw.


WHERE IS THERE TO GO BUT DOWN!?

I don't care about updated rosters, touchbacks, or fifteen minute quarters. Who the fuck would play fifteen minute quarters on Tecmo Bowl anyway? The score would be in the mid-thousands. I am now putting forward a call for people to MAN UP and accept their responsibility as children of the '80s. Reject the 16 bit false prophet! He is the lyingest liar of them all!


"UP IS DOWN, LEFT IS RIGHT, WHITE IS BLACK!"

Moreover, how can these people, of all people, forsake a game that includes QB BROWNS!?


What would Bernie say to you people?

I'm too disgusted to properly segue into Jenna's glory, so here you go.


A lady who knows the value of "Blasphemous" Bill Brooks and "Ivy" Joe Hunter.

Tossed Salads and Scrambled Eggs

I've been watching a lot of Frasier in syndication lately. I've determined that it is my favorite traditional (four camera w/ laugh track) sitcom of all time, with Fawlty Towers being a close second, due largely to its comparative paucity of episodes. Still, Frasier takes the cookie here, as it constantly delights me with its ability to take conventional sitcom plots and go in entirely different directions with them. No matter how many episodes I watch, I can't help but be dazzled by John Mahoney and David Hyde Pierce, as Martin and Niles Crane respectively, for their absolutely amazing portrayals. There's a reason this show won eight million Emmys in its eleven season run. HAIL FRASIER.



So blogophiles... what're your favorite sitcoms?


The Office doesn't count!

Another downer day

You may have noticed the Cleveland Browns widget that I added to the left panel. This doesn't mean I've forsaken the Bengals. It just means that I'm a realist, and the Bengals are out of playoff contention while the Browns can secure a spot as soon as Sunday by beating the Bills. Chad Johnson is still the best receiver in the league, and Carson Palmer > Derek Anderson. It just didn't come together for us this year. And I'll cheer like crazy for my Bengals to avenge their Week 2 loss against the Brownies on December 23rd, don't you worry. I'M NOT A HYPOCRITE.


Still better than that Browns Christmas elf.

Teddy Thompson's version of The Future is really awesome. I don't really know anything else by this guy, but he can cover Leonard Cohen like a champ.

There is nothing going on in the world or in my life right now. Nothing worth talking about on the inter-webs at least. Sorry for such a lackluster week. I blame my stubborn cold.


Empty space for the win!

I don't wanna blog. I'm just gonna watch CHIPS and Riptide

But I don't get the Sleuth channel anymore, so I'm stuck. Also, I don't think those shows are on Sleuth anyway.

Today is a bummer, as many of my childhood heroes have been named as ABUSERS OF STEROIDS in the Mitchell Report. Hal Morris... why'd ya do it?


Always picks me up, never lets me down. Unlike Lenny Dykstra.

Christmas in December

I give more hugs when I'm drunk. I also kiss dudes on the cheek in that state. My inner wop cannot be held back sometimes.


"It's-a me, Leather Mario!"

BRO-ho-ho was a great time last night, even lacking the presence of Davekwon and Sorry Keith Jackson. I got my first Christmas present of the year, as Uncle Adam presented me with a inspirational 2008 wall calendar featuring all of my friends from The Office! Jenna is April, so that could be a long month for me. Possibly lasting into next December. We'll see.


Thanks, Uncle Adam~!

The Cubs signed a Japanese outfielder named Fukudome to a four year, 48 million dollar contract. Did I mention that his name is Fukudome? That's awesome. He's also 30, so I see this going about as well as most big ticket acquisitions go for the Cubs. It boggles my mind how they can spend so much money and have so little to show for it year in and year out.

It's Wu-Tang Clan night at So What? Wednesdays down at Bourbon Street, so don't hate, or Dave will convince my cat to fine you.

You know what's weird? Attraction. As a heterosexual male, I meet many women that I can look upon and very academically determine to be quite pleasing to the eye. And of that group, there's a smaller subset whose company I enjoy. And within that, there's an even smaller subset who aren't so insane that I'd actually be afraid to date them. So we've got good looking, fun to be with, and a comfortable level of crazy. Why then, am I attracted to some and not others within this subset? On paper, they're basically the same. Attraction, as I may have noted, is weird. I guess no woman really has it all.


The exception that proves the rule

Earthbound, we break sound barriers

Lee left me a message last night. I must have been out of the room because I didn't even notice it until this morning. So, here are the lyrics to Happy RAWniversary by My Cousin Lee.

"Happy RAWniversary, Happy RAWniversary, Happy RAWniversary, and don't forget.... RAW IS WAR."

I think I got them right. It was pretty early when I listened to it. Either way, Happy RAWniversary to YOU TOO, Lee. I actually haven't watched the show yet, but it's humming away on the ol' DVR box.

Now that Whirry is back in action, I'm putting her through her paces by revisiting my favorite video game of all time, Earthbound. Emulators are the whip.


It's awesome that this exists.

It's the second Tuesday of the month, and just as it has been for the previous six second Tuesdays of the month, that means it's time to celebrate being a bro. This time out it's Broin' Down 7: BRO-ho-ho. Which is offensive if you're a mall Santa in Australia, apparently. Anyway, I think it's time to once again go over the excellent rules of Broin'!

RULES OF BROIN'

Rule Number One: NO GURLZ ALLOWED. This is broin' down, not hoin' down. You can do that on your own time.

Rule Number Two: Speaking of GURLZ, they are either a ONE or a TWO. No exceptions.

Rule Number Three: Six bros are company, ten bros are a sausage fest.

Rule Number Four: Thou shalt not use any modifier in reference to any BROIN event other than BRO.

We may get as many as EIGHT bros tonight, which I believe would top our previous record. And we definitely need eight next month for Twenty-BRO-Eight. If we ever get to ten, and thus it becomes a sausage fest by definition, we'll have to form a second chapter. We're dangerously close as it is!

With this entry, the streak has reached 21 days! My personal best of 33 will be crushed into dust as 2007 marches on to become the MOST PRODUCTIVE YEAR IN MY BLOG'S STORIED HISTORY.

If you want to write a letter to a company on behalf of a specific show, there's an easy tool for doing so located here. Get those jerks back to the negotiating table! Also, marvel at all the show titles you never knew existed. 12 Miles of Bad Road? ROFFLE.

All right, friends. See you tonight (Some of you at least. And for those I'm not seeing tonight, if you've got a pair, what's your excuse?)!


Remember crimping irons? Boo crimping irons. I still love you, Jenna.

How To Be a Browns Fan, Part 1

Step 1. Visualize the phrase "Come on, Browns!" in your head. Picture it as a cheer.

Step 2. Say the phrase out loud, taking extra care to ensure that you're making it as unintelligible as possible. Acceptable results include "MONBROWNS!" and "MAHHHHHHHHBRAHHHHHHHH!" You're only limited by your imagination!

Step 3. Repeat as needed.


"MUH-BRUH!"